Moschate: having a musky smell

March 22, 1998

Arthur had never really liked Molly's great aunt Muriel. To be fair, no one really did. But sitting on her lumpy parlor sofa that night, he thought he might have to rethink his opinion. Perhaps it was just his head still spinning from the crazy past half-hour (or, quite possibly, the slightly nauseating musky sent that seemed to permeate the entire house), but, Arthur reflected, there were probably not very many people who would usher in five bedraggled and sooty fugitives and their hastily-packed luggage at three o'clock in the morning without even the slightest hesitation.

For all her complaints and gossiping, there could be no doubt now that Muriel Prewett came from strong and noble blood. The same blood his wife and children came from. Speaking of….

"Molly," he said softly.

She didn't move from the window. The long sheers of the curtains hid her from view, but he could make out her outline keeping watch over the back garden where their eldest son had disappeared twenty minutes ago. And where he promised to reappear and give them some answers.

Arthur sighed and looked over at the fireplace. Ginny and the twins were huddled beside the hearth, heads bent, whispering to one another. Fred's arm was around Ginny's shoulders and George had drawn his knees up to his chest. It was hard to recognize the independent and wildly successful businessmen his nineteen-year-old sons had been only that afternoon. And Ginny… thank Merlin she'd been home. His mind kept flashing to what might have happened if she'd still been at school….

But she hadn't been. She was fine. She and the twins were fine. Right in front of him. It was the other four he needed to worry about. So ingrained was the habit from nearly thirty years of fatherhood that Arthur didn't even notice the checklist that automatically streamed through his head. Charlie was fine, safer chasing dragons in Romania than here. Bill was fine – or at least he had been a few minutes ago, physically anyway. Percy – Arthur had never thought he'd be grateful for his son's estrangement before this moment, but hopefully the two-year disassociation would keep him safe. And Ron… Ron.

Arthur's stomach lurched with fear. Bill had not explained much as he'd stumbled into their kitchen thirty minutes earlier, told them to grab anything important, and ushered them out the door. But there could really only be one reason for going into hiding….

Unable to sit still on that uncomfortable sofa, breathing in the dizzying aroma of the candle burning beside him, Arthur got up and slipped behind the sheer beside his wife, joining her in the vigil. He could feel her shoulder shaking as it pressed against his.

A flash of memory popped up in the back of his mind: the boys splashing about in the shallows of the river. It must have been nearly fifteen years before, but Arthur could still see Ron's vivid head suddenly disappearing beneath the rippling water. In the three seconds it had taken to jump in and pull him up, he didn't think his heart could pound so fast. The last eight months had been like those first three seconds he had lost track of his youngest son.

Molly suddenly gasped beside him, clutched his elbow. A figure had appeared on the back step with a pop. The curtains were already fluttering behind Molly as Arthur turned to meet Bill at the door.

"Bill!" Ginny cried, flinging herself into her brother's arms the moment he was inside the house.

"What's happened?" Molly demanded desperately, grabbing Bill's forearm.

"Ron and the others –?" Arthur started and he could hear the fear in his voice.

"They're alright," Bill interrupted before he could even finish the question. "They were caught, but they're going to be alright. We've got them at Shell Cottage, and we're not letting them slip away. They're alright."

Arthur sagged with relief. Ginny actually sank to the floor. Molly burst into tears. Bill put his arm around her.

"Come on. I've got a lot to tell you."

And he led the way into the dining room. George pulled Ginny to her feet and the three of them hurriedly followed. Arthur brought up the rear. He could already hear Bill starting the explanations. And a new feeling of fear mixed in with the dizzying relief of finally, finally knowing that his youngest son was alive: the fear of knowing what had happened to him while he'd been gone.

A/N: I always wondered what it was like on this end of things. I hope you liked it. Thanks a whole ton to every single person who reviewed! You guys are great! ;) Keep up the trend, pretty please!