A Christmas Surprise

On Christmas morning, Molly awoke next to Arthur. She snuggled closer to him beneath the covers after glancing over to find him fast asleep. She could stay in bed with him all day. In fact, she had the entire first half of the week; with Arthur off work for the holidays and Ginny and Harry old enough to take care of themselves, they had all the time in the world.

But Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were different. They had to get out of bed to celebrate with their family and a few close friends. Neither of them had anything against that, not at all. They both would have just liked it if they had a little more time to themselves, though.

As Molly lay next to her husband, she briefly thought about waking him, but decided not to since he'd been having so much trouble sleeping lately. Instead, she slowly got out of bed, careful not to disturb him, and began getting ready for the day. The frigid air stole any remnant of drowsiness she still felt.

"Mollywobbles," Arthur mumbled from under a pile of blankets as she was about to go downstairs.

"Oh, Arthur, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "Come back to bed."

She braced herself on the mattress as she leaned across the bed to give him a good morning kiss "We just spent three days in bed -"

"Not yesterday."

"And I have a lot –"

Molly squealed as Arthur reached out from beneath the covers and pulled her down onto the bed before engulfing them both with the mountain of blankets. He wrapped himself around her.

"I have to make breakfast. It won't be too long before the kids wake up," she protested. George and Charlie stayed in their old bedrooms the night before since they lived alone.

"Most of our kids know how to cook."

"Bill and Fleur and Percy and Audrey are spending the morning at their own homes, and Ron is spending it with the Grangers."

"Charlie and Ginny can cook."

"And we'll have guests in a few hours – Great Aunt Muriel…and Kingsley…and Minerva…and Hagrid…and Andromeda and Teddy."

He smirked. "All I'm hearing is that we have a few hours, then."

"No, I really need to get up." She squirmed in his arms.

Arthur released her and playfully pouted. Molly fought with the blankets, but couldn't find an opening.

Arthur smirked again and waggled his eyebrows. "Can't get up if you can't find your way out."

"Arthur, what did you do? Put a never-ending blanket spell on these?" she huffed, still fighting with the blankets.

"That, my dear, was all you."

"Seriously, Arthur…"

"Seriously," Arthur chuckled, "it's because you insist on sleeping with fifty blankets."

"Five," she corrected. She crossed her arms and huffed as she gave up.

"Fifty…Five," Arthur said as he acted like he was weighing them in each hand before shrugging. He smiled. "Merry Christmas, Mollywobbles," he murmured.

"Merry Christmas, Arthur."

They pecked each other on the lips.

"How about I cook breakfast this morning while you sit in front of the fire sipping a big cup of coffee?" Arthur suggested.

"You don't have –"

"I want to," he said sincerely.

"Well, okay, then."

Arthur fought with the blankets for a moment before finally finding the edge and throwing the blankets off of them.

Molly went to the dresser mirror to straighten up. "My hair is a complete mess!" she exclaimed.

Arthur came up behind her with a bedhead of his own and tilted his head. His necklace glinted in the reflection. "Don't bother it. It reminds me of someone famous – well, semi-famous anyway."

"Who?" Molly asked, genuinely intrigued.

Arthur smirked. "Me."

"The only thing you're famous for is driving me mad," she joked.

"You have the hair for it," he teased before walking away. He narrowly dodged her hand as she playfully swatted at his bottom. He stopped and wiggled it at her. This time, Molly did not miss. "Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his rear as he went into the bathroom.

"That's right. You better go get ready," Molly called as she began to fix her hair again.

Downstairs not much later, Arthur built a fire and brought Molly a cup of coffee. Instead of going back into the kitchen to start breakfast, he ran upstairs. He came up behind Molly on the couch when he returned.

Molly turned her head around. "What are you doing?" she asked, "You're supposed to be making breakfast."

"I know, I know. There's something I want to give you before the kids come down," he said before kissing her on the side of the neck.

A soft moan escaped her lips. "As much as I'd love to, we don't have time."

"That's not what I meant, but we know who's on Santa's naughty list," he growled, nipping her ear and causing color to rise in her cheeks.

Molly cleared her throat. "Well, what is it then?"

"Well, it's not a Christmas present. It's for our anniversary."

"Our anniversary is still a few days away. Can it not wait?"

"No."

Arthur pulled out an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to her. Molly carefully opened it, anticipation bubbling up inside of her. If it couldn't wait until their anniversary it had to be something spectacular.

When she took out what was inside, she discovered it was a photograph. Clear, blue water calmly rolled onto a white sand beach before retreating into the ocean. Palm trees swayed in the breeze as they provided shade for a quaint villa with a straw roof.

Her heart sank further the longer she looked at it. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but a photograph was definitely not it. In their thirty years of marriage, this had to be the most disappointing gift Arthur had ever given her.

"Oh! What a beautiful picture," she tried to say enthusiastically. "Is this the Maldives?"

Arthur walked around the couch to sit next to her. He nodded.

"I'd still love to go there one day," she mumbled longingly, still staring at the photograph.

"The photograph isn't your gift," Arthur said. "And it's more of something for the both of us."

"We're not going on a trip, are we?" she asked, the corners of her lips quirking upward.

Arthur raised an eyebrow before picking up an artificial rose from behind the couch and handing it to her.

"Arthur..."

"We leave at nine tomorrow morning and get back just in time for the New Year's Eve party."

"I have always wanted to go to the Maldives!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.

"I know," Arthur chuckled, straightening back up. "With this new job, we can finally afford it."

Suddenly, Molly's face fell as something dawned on her. "But we're hosting the New Year's Eve party. We won't have any time to get ready for it."

"I talked to the kids. They'll get the house in order for the party."

"They're okay with that?"

"Most of them said they'd be happy to do it."

"That's nice of them," Molly said, beaming at the tropical picture.

Arthur kissed her on the cheek before hopping up. He had just entered the kitchen when he poked his head back into the sitting room and said, "Don't lose that. It's our portkey," in reference to the rose. A huge smile was plastered on Molly's face as she twirled the rose between her fingers and sipped her coffee in front of the crackling fire.

After a while, Molly heard movement upstairs. It was a sound she hadn't heard in a long time and missed dearly. Sure, the few years all her children were at school or had moved out on their own, there was plenty of silence around the house. But that silence was not definite. The kids would come home from school for the holidays and the noise would return with them. The silence that covered the Burrow in recent months was very different – It was more permanent. None of her children would live in the Burrow again, and, before long, they would not even spend the night because they would have families of their own.

She relished the rustling, sleepy murmurs, creaking floorboards, and running water until she dragged herself to the kitchen. A few pesky anxieties had slowly encroached upon her reminiscence that she needed to quell before the kids came downstairs.

"How's breakfast coming along?" she asked her husband.

"It's almost done."

"The turkey?"

"In the oven."

"Er – Arthur?" Molly asked timidly.

Arthur set down the spatula and turned around to fully face his wife.

"This trip – It's a dream, but…I have some concerns."

Arthur leaned against the counter, crossed his arms, and cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're supposed to go back to work next week, and being the head of a department brings a lot of responsibility. Maybe now is not the best time."

"Oh, that?" Arthur shrugged off her concern. "It's all worked out. I've got plenty of vacation time, and Perkins will take over until I get back."

"Oh. That's…That's good," Molly said unconvincingly. She bit her lip.

Stepping forward and uncrossing his arms, Arthur asked, "Molly, what's really bothering you?"

"Do you really think it's a good idea to leave for a week? Kingsley is still requiring you to go to two meetings a week."

"I've worked it out with Kingsley. He's okay with it if I miss a couple meetings."

"But are you going to be okay?" Molly asked. "The meetings you go to really seem to help, and you've only been to one this week. By the time we get back, you would have gone nearly two weeks without going to one."

"Ah, I see," Arthur said, understanding finally dawning on him. "Look, it's gotten a lot easier." He placed his hands on either side of her face and assured, "There's nothing to worry about," before kissing her forehead.

"Just promise you'll tell me if it starts bothering you?"

Arthur looked her in the eye. "I promise," he sincerely said. "And we'll be together the whole time anyway, so you'll always have an eye on me." He gave a small smirk.

Molly stood on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the lips.

George slipped in unnoticed. "Morning," he said, giving his mum a start. Arthur was unperturbed.

"George!" Molly exclaimed.

George put his hands up in defense. "I'm not the one snogging in the kitchen."

"We were not snogging."

"Are Charlie, Ginny, and Harry up yet, George?" Arthur intervened.

"They're on their way down."

The present family members ate breakfast in a rather solemn silence. Missing half of the family cast an odd feeling over the morning. They could fool themselves into believing Fred was spending Christmas elsewhere like Bill, Percy, and Ron until the three couples arrived. Then, they had to face the real reason for their beloved son and brother's absence. George was especially quiet throughout the day.

The atmosphere lightened when they emptied their stockings and exchanged gifts, but the phantom of Fred and others who had been lost loomed in the back of everyone's minds. This Christmas was bittersweet, indeed.

After all gifts had been opened and everyone put on their new Weasley jumper, George hopped up and pulled out one last round of packages.

"Alright, the other gifts I gave you were more useful and something I thought you'd all enjoy, but I've recently come out with a new line of toys that I hope you all find amusing," he announced as he tossed neatly wrapped packages to everyone.

Arthur and Molly watched the kids open theirs first. They each received an action figure of themselves as well as one of a Death Eater; for some, it was a nameless villain, and for others, it was one which held some significance. Bill got Greyback; Percy, Pius Thicknesse; Harry, Voldemort; Ginny, Tom Riddle; Hermione, Bellatrix; and Ron, Draco Malfoy.

Arthur's chest tightened as he began to see a trend and remembered the toy snake his great-nephews had been playing with weeks before. He knew it was silly to be afraid of a toy – Alexander had even confirmed it had no physical impact on him - but he couldn't help it.

"They're animated, too, so you can have them duel," George explained. "And, of course, the bad guys always lose."

A smile tugged at the corner of Percy's mouth when George told him how Pius Thicknesse sprouted sea urchin spikes at the end of the duel. Ron guffawed when George hinted that Draco would be turned into a ferret. Bill, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione did appear to find the latter half of their gifts amusing, but George did not seem to notice, too busy pointing out the dragon sidekick that came with Charlie's action figure.

Eventually, George looked at his parents expectantly. "Mum? Dad?"

Molly unwrapped her gift to find herself and Bellatrix, but Arthur stopped after noticing he had an extra box containing the sword of Gryffindor. His heartrate quickened.

"Who – or what – did you get me, George?" Arthur asked quietly.

"There's only one way to find that out, isn't there?" George quipped.

"Or you can just tell me," Arthur retorted brusquely. The package in his hands began to shake ever so slightly. Molly laid a placating hand on his forearm.

"I-It's Nagini," George stuttered.

"What would make you think I wanted that?" Arthur exploded. "What were you thinking? Were you even thinking?"

George's face and ear quickly became as red as a tomato. "I-I-I just thought you'd get a kick out of it. Y'know," he scratched the back of his neck and shrunk back, "getting to slice its head off." Hesitantly, he looked over at his siblings. "I mean, you guys like them, right?"

Molly didn't understand what George had been thinking either. He had always been sensitive to other people's feelings. A gift like this didn't seem like him at all.

"I understand where you're coming from," Bill said. "But it is a bit much for some of us."

Arthur dropped the gift on the floor before stalking off to the kitchen. Molly stood, also.

"He doesn't show it around you kids, but the snake attack deeply affected your dad, and the new information that has recently come to light hasn't helped any," she explained.

George bolted.

Molly glanced from the kitchen door to the stairs where George disappeared and back. She couldn't choose between her husband and her son. Arthur was a grown man, but he did have – and still had - great difficulty because of the snake attack. An event as traumatic as that was damaging on many levels and would take years to get past if that was even possible. On the other hand, George was still in an extremely delicate place and was trying to get back to his old jokester ways. This day, she was sure, was hardest on him.

Charlie stood. "I'll handle George, Mum," he said. "You take care of Dad."

Molly gave her second oldest son an appreciative smile before going into the kitchen where she found Arthur pacing back and forth. When he noticed her standing just inside the doorway, he came to an abrupt halt.

"How's George?" he asked breathlessly. "I didn't mean to go off like that. I know it was all in good fun, but –"

"Shh." Molly placed her hand on his cheek, and brown eyes met blue. "Charlie is talking to George. How are you? What made you react that way?"

"I don't know." Arthur shrugged. "I was fine until I saw what everyone was getting. Then I got anxious, but that was all. I don't know what made me blow up like that. It just came out of nowhere."

"Did you have another panic attack?"

"No."

"Your chest?"

"Fine."

"How are you?" Molly repeated her first question.

Arthur sat down heavily in a chair and rubbed his face. "I've reconsidered my decision not to go to that meeting today."

Molly pulled a chair out next to him. She stroked his hair.

"Do you need someone to go with you?" she asked.

"No," Arthur said, his eyes unmoving from the oven where the turkey was slowly cooking. "It's not for a few more hours. I should be better by then."

"What will you do until then?"

"Distract myself. Focus on something else." His eyes flicked to the corner cabinet where they used to keep the Firewhisky and wine before he looked at Molly out of the corner of his eye and smirked. "Just don't let me sneak out of the house before then," he tried to joke, but Molly didn't even smile.

She continued to soothingly run her fingers through his hair. After a few minutes, her hand came to rest on the back of his head. "It's okay if we need to wait for a better time to go on our trip," she assured softly. "You're sobriety is more important than some trip."

"We don't have to do that. I can't put my life on hold because of this." He looked her in the eye. "But, I will tell you if I start having problems."

Molly frowned.

"Come on. We'll get down there, and we'll be having such a good time that none of this will even cross your mind," Arthur said. He shifted in his seat so his body was facing hers. Resting his elbows on his knees, he took her hands in his. "White beaches…crystal clear water…the warm, salty air…This is a place you've wanted to visit your entire life. Thirty years of it, you've spent putting up with me." He gave her his goofy, lopsided grin before becoming serious again. "This last one was definitely the toughest, but we made it." He gently squeezed her hands. "You deserve this."

Molly's cheeks grew pink and a small smile peaked out. "If you're sure…"

"Positive," Arthur replied. "You don't need to worry about a thing."

He kissed her atop the head as he stood. "I need to talk to George."

He reached the landing that the twins' bedroom was on. The door was cracked, and Charlie was still in there talking to George.

"I'm such an idiot," George said.

"No, Geor-"

"Dad was right. How could I think anyone would want something like that?"

"I like mine."

"You weren't maimed or psychologically damaged."

"Ron and Percy got a kick out of theirs, And Mum, Fleur, and Audrey didn't seem too bothered," Charlie tried reassuring his brother again, but George seemed to ignore him.

"How could I be so insensitive? I should have given everyone an action figure of themselves and left it at that."

"George, sit down," Charlie calmly commanded.

One of the beds creaked.

"You gave everyone great gifts. You gave Mum and Dad new bathrobes; Ron, Ginny, and Harry new broomsticks; Percy a new briefcase; me new dragon-hide boots; and all the other gifts, it seemed like you put a lot of thought into them as well. Why did you feel the need to give everyone those action figures, too?"

There was a moment of silence.

"I thought it might be something Fred would've given them," George said quietly, "as a little joke, I guess."

"Oh." The other bed creaked. "I – Er – That's –"

Arthur couldn't stand there any longer. Gently, he tapped on the door before entering. He wasn't sure what he would say, but he couldn't lay that responsibility on Charlie. George sat on his bed while Charlie sat across from him on Fred's. They both turned their attention to their father.

"I'll take it from here, Charlie," Arthur told him quietly. As Charlie passed him on his way out, Arthur patted him on the back and said, "Thank you."

Arthur looked at Fred's bed then gave George a questioning look, silently asking if it would be okay for him to sit there. Ever since his twin's death, George had been rather picky about Fred's things.

George nodded, giving his dad permission to sit there.

Father and son simultaneously said "George" and "Dad" after Arthur sat down. They both gestured for the other to speak first. Finally, feeling as if he should be the first because he was sure George would start apologizing, Arthur spoke.

"Son, I'm sorry," Arthur said sincerely. "I shouldn't have gotten so upset, and I, especially, should not have taken it out on you. I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"I'm sorry too, Dad. I should have thought more about how it might make everyone feel."

"You don't need to apologize. You were only trying to make people laugh."

"And I thought Fred –"

"I heard," Arthur softly interrupted so his son wouldn't have to repeat it. "I know you miss Fred. We all do. We all wish he was here with us – and he is, in spirit – but you don't have to act like your brother."

"I know," George mumbled. "I just don't…feel…complete, you know?"

"You felt like half of a whole with Fred?" Arthur ventured.

George nodded.

"You and Fred complemented each other well. You balanced each other out. Fred could be brash and wouldn't think about the consequences of his actions while you were more level-headed and would make him stop and think. He was more carefree and fun-loving - and had a tendency to carry things too far - while you have always been more sensitive and compassionate. And you were both incredible pranksters and showed us you were more than that when you built your business.

"You and Fred were twins, yes, but you were two very different people. Son, you are your own person. You may not feel like it right now, but you are complete without your brother - and that doesn't take anything away from the relationship you had with him. It just means that you're going to be fine."

"Thanks, Dad. I just don't want Fred to be forgotten."

"He won't be," Arthur said with great conviction. "But we don't want to lose you in the process either."

By the time Arthur and George got back downstairs, the guests had arrived and the mood had lightened substantially. Harry and Ginny helped Teddy open his Christmas gifts from them on the floor near the tree; with Harry as his godfather, it was already obvious that Teddy would be spoiled. Hermione and Percy talked with Kingsley in the sitting room. Audrey and Fleur found their own little corner to chat in.

After greeting Kingsley and the currently raven-haired baby, Arthur wandered into the kitchen to find the others. Bill talked with Professor McGonagall while Ron and Charlie were in a very animated discussion with Hagrid. Molly showed Andromeda Great-Grandmother Prewett's Christmas dishes while Muriel rambled on about the dishes' entire history.

Arthur gave a general "Merry Christmas!" to the new arrivals. Three of the four reciprocated. Great-Aunt Muriel met his cheerful greeting with a scowl.

Arthur braced himself.

Muriel's eyes flicked to her great-niece when Molly discretely cleared her throat. The old woman's expression softened slightly and she told Arthur, "Merry Christmas."

A house full of people. That would be Distraction City for Arthur. But there was one thing he needed to do before anything else.

He managed to politely pull Hagrid and Professor McGonagall from their conversations and into the privacy of the hall. It was a rather tight squeeze with the half-giant.

"Minerva, Hagrid," Arthur began, looking at each of them in turn, "I need to apologize to both of you. I should not have put you in the position I did a couple months ago. I am, however, thankful that you intervened. But I am sorry it had to come to that."

"I'm just glad to see you are doing better," Professor McGonagall said with a small smile.

"Yup," Hagrid agreed. "Hated seein' yeh like that, Arthur."

"It wasn't much fun on this side either," Arthur said.

Having said what he needed to say, Hagrid and Professor McGonagall went back to their conversations while Arthur went to Molly.

"How's George?" Molly asked as she basted the turkey.

Arthur leaned against the counter next to the stove. "He'll be alright."

"Have you talked to your grandparents today?"

"No. They said they'd pop in for a bit when they had the chance, though. There are so many people at their house no one will miss them if they sneak out for a few minutes. Here, let me take that," Arthur said when Molly was about to put the turkey back in the oven. Levitating it worked well, but with the house full, it would be easy for someone to accidentally bump into her and cause the turkey to crash to the floor. Arthur grunted as he set the twenty-five pound bird back in the oven.

"So, how's this coming?" he inquired.

"Right on schedule."

"Mum!" Ron called. "When are we eating? I'm starving."

"Not quite two hours. Grab a snack if you need to."

Arthur glanced at his watch. It was just past two o'clock. "We're eating at four?" he asked his wife.

"We always eat Christmas dinner at four," she replied. They ate an early dinner on Christmas so they would skip lunch in anticipation of the upcoming feast. "Your meeting isn't 'til six, right?"

"It was moved up today, so it wouldn't interfere with people's plans."

"What time is it then?"

"Four." Arthur scratched his head. "You all eat when it's ready, and I'll eat when I get back." He hated to miss Christmas dinner, but he didn't want to make anyone have to wait.

"No, I'm sure no one will mind waiting an hour. I'll just put a warming charm on the turkey like the rest of the food."

"I think Ron would probably starve to death by then," Arthur joked.

"He knows how to make a sandwich."

Time flew by. Before Arthur knew it, it was time for him to leave. The holiday and house of people provided a great distraction for him.

After exiting the lift on Level Seven, Arthur leisurely wound his way through the corridors, the path imprinted in his mind from taking this route two dozen times before. The Ministry was almost completely empty due to it being a holiday.

He came to another corridor that intersected the one he was walking down. Just as he was about to turn the corner, something collided with him from behind. He tripped as someone stepped on the back of his shoe, and he caught himself on the wall. Papers scattered across the floor.

"Bollocks. Not again," the other man cursed under his breath.

Turning around, Arthur realized it was his younger brother who had crashed into him. "Run into people often, Ian?" he quipped with a small smirk. He extended a hand to help him up.

Ian cocked his head, raised an eyebrow, and frowned slightly as color crept up his neck.

The papers flew neatly back into Ian's hand after Arthur waved his wand.

"Shouldn't you be at home with Molly and the kids?" Ian asked.

"I could ask you the same."

"Touché. But, no, I was just dropping these by the office," Ian said, gesturing to the paperwork. "I noticed a major mistake the other day and wanted to fix it before anyone noticed."

That was just like Ian, Arthur thought. If something was out of order, whether it was his mistake or not, Ian had to correct it right away. Arthur could not understand what would be so important that it would sanction a trip to work on Christmas Day, though. That was strange even for the workaholic who was Ian.

"Arthur!" a brown-haired, young man called cheerily as he approached the brothers.

When Arthur turned his attention to the young man, he realized it was Peter, the first person who formally introduced himself at Arthur's first meeting. The boy was nice enough, always friendly but sometimes to the point of annoyance. But ever so slowly, he was growing on Arthur.

Arthur gave the lad a wave.

"Oh - Hey, Ian!" Peter greeted as he came to stand next to the Weasleys.

"Hey, Peter," Ian reciprocated with a genuine smile and a small laugh. "So, I see you know my brother."

Peter narrowed his eyes at Arthur and cocked his head as he briefly studied the older man. Suddenly, he straightened up and his eyes became wide as he exclaimed, "I knew you looked familiar! You're Arthur Weasley."

"You couldn't gather that from the Prophet?" Arthur asked flatly.

"I prefer the Quibbler. The Prophet is full of rubbish," Peter replied, waving his hand. "No, I know you because you're Charlie's dad, right?"

Arthur nodded once.

"Yeah, I met you a few times during summer holidays when I was at Hogwarts. I was Seeker for Hufflepuff, so Charlie and I would play in the orchard. Mrs. Weasley would have to make us come in for lunch. She always baked cookies or a cake or something like that, too. Usually, Mum and Dad wanted me home by dinner, so I didn't see you much, but I stayed the night a few times. When you found out I was a Muggle-born, you couldn't ask enough questions. You know, I actually just saw Charlie the other day."

Arthur had trouble remembering the boy from all those years ago until Peter mentioned he was a Muggle-born, not only because of that fact but because he was an exceptional Quidditch player, especially since he was eleven years old before he had even heard of the sport.

"You went to play for the Wimbourne Wasps, didn't you?" Arthur asked, crossing his arms.

"Yeah - for a few years." Scratching the back of his neck, Peter turned his attention to the floor. "But there were a few incidents that resulted in a forced career change. Now, I work in the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Arthur said sincerely. On a more light-hearted note, he added, "Can't be easy working with this one." He ruffled Ian's hair. With pink cheeks hidden behind his short beard, Ian immediately began straightening his hair with his free hand.

Peter gave a bark of laughter. "Ian being one of England's best Seekers makes him tolerable," he teased.

Ian blushed further.

"I'm sorry, Ian. You're not that bad. Really."

"On an unrelated matter, you're back at work Monday, right?" Ian asked Peter.

"Yeppers."

"Alright. It's nothing too serious, but I need to talk to you first thing."

"Sure," Peter said uncertainly. He peaked at the papers in Ian's hand. "Is that some stuff I did? Oh, don't tell me I messed up again."

Ian frowned.

"Gosh. I'm sorry. I'm such a screw up."

"It's fine," Ian assured. "You're still learning, and I caught it before anyone else noticed. No harm done. All I want to do is show you where the mistakes were, so you'll know next time."

Peter blew out a relieved breath. "Oh. Okay. Well, I'm gonna head in there." He jabbed his thumb toward the corridor Arthur had been about to turn down when Ian collided with him. Many people headed that way had already passed the trio while they talked. "I heard they have extra sweets on Christmas, and I don't want to miss out. Do you want me to grab you something?" he asked Arthur.

Arthur shook his head.

Peter took a step before turning back to Arthur. "Oh – Um – Mr. Weasley –"

"Keep calling me Arthur."

"Arthur," Peter corrected, "even though Charlie and I still hang out, he doesn't know about this, so –"

"I won't say anything."

"Cheers."

As Peter departed, Ian looked past Arthur and down the corridor to a room buzzing with indistinct voices. He raised his eyebrows in understanding and mild surprise. "Oh…You're here for the alcohol counseling."

Arthur stared at his younger brother, neither confirming nor denying that statement.

"No shame in that," Ian assured softly.

"It's nice of you to cover for Peter like that," Arthur said, changing the subject.

"Well, he's a good kid. He's made some bad decisions, but I think it's about time someone cut him a break," Ian said. "He tends to stick his nose where it's not welcome, and he can be exasperating at times, and I sometimes think he took one too many Bludgers to the head, but you can't stay upset with him for long."

The corners of Arthur's mouth quirked upward. He had slowly been coming to realize that as well. He thought back to his first encounter – well, what he had thought to be his first encounter – with the young man. Even though Arthur bit his head off for staring at his scars that day, Peter always tried to talk to him. Arthur would repay him in an ill-tempered manner, but after the first few meetings, Arthur finally started to become more friendly, not just with Peter but with anyone who approached him.

"Besides, if I can put up with you going off into long ramblings about Muggles, Trent's incessant, immature jokes, and Desmond being intermittently angry with me for no reason, I could tolerate anything," Ian jested.

"It's not always easy when you're regaling us with the same stories from your glory days playing for England," Arthur returned the joke. "'We were playing the World Cup against Italy in the pouring rain. They were up by a hundred and fifty points. I saw something glint in a flash of lightening as I dodged a Bludger. I raced toward it and caught the Snitch just before the other Seeker and right after England scored another ten points,'" he imitated Ian enthusiastically. Then, he took on an air of indifference and shrugged. "I mean, it's not like we were there or anything either." He cracked a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, alright. I get it. I'm not a walk in the park either," Ian admitted. "I'll let you get in there. I need to get to Gran and Gramps's anyway. Elaine and the kids are already there."

"Watch where you're going from now on, eh?" Arthur said, clapping Ian on the back.

The two brothers parted ways, going in opposite directions down the intersecting corridor. Arthur glanced over his shoulder at Ian; nope, he had already returned to reading the papers in his hand. Arthur shook his head. His younger brother would never learn.

As Arthur entered the room, everyone was settling into seats. There had to be twice as many people there as usual. A beautifully decorated Christmas tree stood in the front corner. Garland wrapped in lights hung from the ceiling, making elongated "U" shapes along the walls. Dishes of various Christmas goodies covered the back table.

Arthur quietly poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed a Santa-shaped sugar cookie before finding an empty seat behind Amos. Holding the cookie between his teeth, he patted Amos on the shoulder as he sat down. Amos turned around and smiled at him.

"I thought you said you weren't coming," Amos whispered as the wizard up front began the meeting.

Arthur took a bite from the cookie as he removed it from his mouth and shrugged.

Arthur listened as people spoke, but did not speak himself; however, he did catch himself scanning the room for Conner at one point. He didn't see him. He didn't expect to. Conner never attended Friday meetings and Arthur overheard him telling someone he would be spending the holidays at home in Ireland.

Over the past few weeks, Arthur rarely saw Conner. Conner, Arthur assumed, still attended Monday meetings, but the meetings Arthur went to became sporadic since he started spending time with Molly again. He preferred going in the morning because of the nightly dates he and Molly would go on. The week he had been back at the Burrow, he went on Monday because he didn't want to have to wake up early if he didn't have to; he'd much rather laze around with Molly all day since he didn't have work.

The meeting finished quickly enough. Arthur's stomach growled as he stood. That involuntary action was not surprising considering he hadn't eaten anything but that cookie since breakfast.

Amos faced Arthur as he stood. They shook hands.

"You must have snuck past me in the hall. Otherwise, I would've said something," Arthur told him.

"Oh, I didn't have anything else to do and I wanted plenty of time to socialize, so I got here very early." Amos waved it off. "I reckoned you'd be at home in front of a fire with your family."

Arthur scoffed. "I was. Had to drag my sorry arse here." He frowned. "I don't know what happened. Something triggered it and I lost my temper with George. Besides, Molly was worried about me going a week and a half without a meeting."

Amos's eyebrow knit together. "Arthur, I have to agree with her. That's not a good idea. Not right now, at least," Amos said. "Aren't you required to come, anyway?"

"Oh, it's not for no reason," Arthur clarified. "I'm taking Molly away for our anniversary."

"Ah. Where to?"

"The Maldives."

"I heard it's very nice there this time of year. Very tropical."

Arthur's stomach growled again, reminding him that he wasn't supposed to stay and chat.

"Say, Amos, have you eaten yet?" he asked as an idea popped into his head.

"I had brunch with some friends from grief counselling."

"Do you have plans after this?"

With downcast eyes and a frown, Amos shook his head and sighed, "Nope."

"Why don't you come to the Burrow for dinner?" Arthur offered.

"Oh – No – I couldn't possibly -"

"I insist."

"You're not prepared for an extra mouth."

"We have tons of sides and a massive turkey."

"You have a massive family," Amos replied, "which I do not want to intrude upon."

"You won't. We already had time together as a family, and we have some friends over right now."

Amos seemed to consider his offer now.

"Come on, Amos. It's no trouble," Arthur reassured. "And Molly banned all alcohol, if that's what you're concerned about."

"Did Molly make her custard tart?"

Arthur nodded.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Amos exclaimed. "Come on, then."

Arthur chuckled. Amos never could get enough of Molly's custard tart. If ever the Diggorys were invited to dinner and Molly hadn't made a custard tart, Amos would be deeply disappointed.

When they got to the Burrow, the table had already been extended and widened with extra chairs placed around it, making it almost impossible to walk around the kitchen; that's why they preferred eating in the garden when the weather was nice and they had guests. All the place settings were set with the Christmas dishes Molly had been showing Andromeda earlier that afternoon, and the center of the table was filled with dishes of food. Desserts still sat on the counter for later. Most everyone had gathered around the table, Hagrid sitting at the end nearest the sitting room, which was Arthur's usual seat, because it was the only place the half-giant could fit.

"Sorry, we're late," Arthur announced before pecking Molly on the cheek. Amos came through the sitting room door behind him.

"Oh, Amos!" Molly exclaimed. "It's so nice of you to join us."

"You're custard tart is what sold it," Amos joked as she hugged him.

Molly set to making a place for him and told Arthur to call the others. Harry and Hermione were upstairs somewhere. Andromeda had gone to change Teddy. Arthur had passed Bill and Charlie on the front porch just a moment ago.

Once he completed his task, Arthur made his way to the other end of the table. He slipped Kingsley the paper confirming his attendance as he squeezed between his chair and the counter. It wasn't long before Molly took her seat by him and everyone else was settled.

Silence fell across the room when Arthur stood at the head of the table and cleared his throat. He picked up his glass and looked around the table. "I want to start by saying how thankful I am to be surrounded by family and friends – or should I say friends who have become family. The past few years have been hard on all of us. Today, I am sure, is especially difficult for each and every person here. But, those we lost are not truly gone. They are with us in spirit and in our hearts - Ted, Tonks, Remus, Alanna, Cedric, Alastor, Sirius, Dumbledore," he took a shaky breath, "Fred, and so many others. While we remember them, let us not forget those who are still with us and to cherish the time we have with each other." He raised his glass. The rest of the table followed suit. "Here's to those who are with us in spirit, to family, and to a brighter future."

A soft and solemn "Hear, hear" was said in unison around the table.

As dinner progressed, the mood lightened and the atmosphere became joyful. It quickly became impossible to distinguish what was being said halfway down the table. Conversations became entangled with one another. At the opposite end of the table, Hagrid and Amos talked animatedly. Charlie would pop into their discussion every once in a while when he wasn't involved in a friendly, trivial debate with Bill and Kingsley. Poor Fleur smiled politely at Muriel, who prattled on about something across the table from her. Halfway down the table, Percy and Professor McGonagall seemed to be captivated by their discussion, something about the future of house-elves at Hogwarts; apparently, Hermione had gotten to Percy in the past few months. When Hermione wasn't whispering to Harry beside her, she passionately took part in the house-elf discussion across from her. Ron and George practically shouted at each other since they were across the table and a few seats apart; Audrey even raised her voice slightly as she talked to the two brothers. Nearest him, Teddy sat in a highchair between Andromeda and Ginny. As Ginny fawned over and fed the little tyke, Andromeda and Molly talked to each other across the table. Harry seemed to be the only one not enjoying himself; the raven-haired boy – or man, Arthur supposed – had been unusually skittish all day, now Arthur came to think about it. When he asked Harry if he was alright, he received a spluttered, "Er – Yes sir, Mr. Weasley, sir."

Suddenly, a big, booming laugh erupted from someone at the table. It wasn't Hagrid this time, but it easily could have been. The din quietened as everyone looked toward Arthur's end of the table. George continued to laugh a deep belly laugh. Next to him, Audrey grinned from ear to ear. Further down the table, Ron's face turned bright red as he laughed so hard mashed potatoes shot out of his nose; Hermione watched her boyfriend in disgust. That was the first time in months anyone had seen George laugh like that; he had almost hyperventilated from laughing so hard when he turned Muriel into a canary at Percy and Audrey's engagement party, but this was much more than that. No one heard what was said, but Audrey somehow brought this on, and it was the best Christmas gift any of the Weasleys could get.

People turned back to their own conversations when the laughing fit subsided. Eventually, everyone stopped eating, even Ron. They still sat around the table when the Floo in the kitchen roared to life and Gran and Gramps stepped through exclaiming, "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" the table chorused.

"I do hope we are not interrupting," Gran said, carrying a large, glass bowl.

Both Arthur and Molly stood.

"Not at all," Arthur said. "I think we were about to scatter, anyway."

"Is there a place I can set this, Molly?" Gran asked, lifting the bowl slightly. "I made a trifle – I forewent the sherry," she added to her grandson.

While Molly cleared a spot among the desserts on the counter, people began to drift to various parts of the house.

Gramps squeezed his grandson's shoulder. "How have you been, Son?"

Arthur watched Molly. With a smile that reached his eyes, he replied, "I'm fine."

That was one of the rare times Gramps believed Arthur when he said he was fine - and Arthur was. He was happy and his family was as whole as it could be, but things weren't perfect. He still had to regain the trust of his children, and, then, there was the business of the curse.

"You're grandmother has been driving me mad this past week. Ever since you moved out, it's been too quiet around the house at night – her words, not mine - so we've had at least two little ones spend the night every night."

"Well, you may have more to visit in the near future. I'm sure it won't be long before Bill and Fleur or Percy and Audrey –" Arthur stopped a thought popped into his head that had never crossed his mind before. The way Ginny fawned over Teddy all day – How Harry flinched any time someone mentioned his name and shook like a leaf the rest of the time. Was his little girl pregnant?

"Arthur?"

Arthur shook that thought out of his head. "It's nothing."

Gramps followed Arthur to where Gran and Molly stood near the sink. Muriel shuffled up to them.

"Good evening, Muriel," Gran said politely.

Muriel drew herself up to her full height. "Irene. Costin."

Gramps crossed his arms and grunted, "Muriel."

Muriel sniffed and eyed Arthur. "I see you've finally cleaned up your son's mess – at least temporarily," she said to his grandparents.

Gramps uncrossed his arms and drew in a deep breath, his chest puffing out, as he readied his rebuttal, but he deflated just as quickly when Arthur gave a miniscule shake of his head. Instead, he walked away. Gran and Arthur followed as Molly scolded her great-aunt.

"She's been halfway decent today," Arthur said in an attempt to calm his grandfather. Neither of his grandparents liked the way Muriel treated him, but he had gotten over it a long time ago. And even though they were all in the same house during their Hogwarts years, Costin and Irene never got along with Muriel. She always had been a judgmental gossip. "I think Molly had a word with her beforehand."

"Even so, you do not deserve to be treated that way. I have never understood why you stand by and take that," Gramps said in an angry whisper. Gran placed a placating hand on his arm.

Arthur shrugged. "What good would arguing with her do? She has never liked me, and she never will. She never thought I was good enough for Molly. This past year, I've only done things to reinforce that belief."

"But you do know that's not true?" Gran asked. "If you don't believe us, look at the life you built, the family you raised, how hard you've worked."

"I know."

"Just don't let her get to you, Son," Gramps said.

"Have I ever let her get to me?"

"Not as far as I know, but you do have a tendency to bottle things up."

"I don't care about her opinion of me," Arthur stated firmly.

Gran and Gramps wandered off to visit with their great-grandchildren before having to go back to the Weasley bash taking place at their house. As he passed to talk to Amos, Arthur overheard Harry and Hermione talking in hushed voices on the stairs. He stopped.

"Look, Harry, now is the perfect time," the brunette said. "Everyone is here, including her great-grandparents. I'm sure they would love to be a part of this moment."

"But her brothers –"

"May be shocked at first, but they'll come 'round. I mean, honestly, it shouldn't be that surprising. You've slept in the same bed for months now."

Shite. Harry got Ginny pregnant. She couldn't be, though. How was she supposed to finish school? Or play professional Quidditch? She told them about how the Holyhead Harpies scouted her at the most recent match and how excited she was. Arthur was all for having grandchildren, but this was too early for his little girl. She wasn't even married yet, for Merlin's sake!

Footsteps jolted Arthur out of his thoughts as the two bounded down the stairs and past him.

"Fleur, will you get everyone in the kitchen to come in here please?" Hermione asked Fleur, who was nearest the kitchen.

A moment later, the whole family, plus guests, were accounted for in the sitting room.

"Harry!" Ginny squealed as he pulled her up off the couch to stand with him in front of the fireplace. "What are –"

She suddenly fell silent when the raven-haired man got down on one knee without letting go of her hand.

"Ginny, I've loved you for a long time. There was never any doubt about it. The many months we were apart were dreadful. I never want that to happen again. I've been waiting for the perfect time to ask this, and I couldn't wait until you graduated. So -" Harry pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it. The diamonds sparkled in the firelight. "Ginny Weasley, will you marry me?"

With another squeal, Ginny nodded her head.

Harry slipped the ring on her finger before standing. She threw her arms around him and kissed him square on the lips to the whoops and hollers of the onlookers. Arthur breathed an internal sigh of relief. The dinner with Harry asking his blessing all those months ago had completely slipped his mind. Whether the boy intentionally planned for that to happen or not, Arthur did not know, but it was nice being surprised by the proposal.

A crowd quickly formed around Harry and Ginny so everyone could hug and congratulate the couple.

"Yeh know what this calls fer?" a teary-eyed Hagrid exclaimed as he rummaged through his many coat pockets. "Wait – It's in 'ere somewhere. I carry it jus' in case summat like this 'appens."

After a moment, Professor McGonagall asked, "Hagrid, what are you looking for?"

"Champaign, o' course!" he answered, his eyes landing on Arthur as he looked up from his coat. He immediately stopped his rummaging. "Oh! I'm such an idiot! I mean, 'ere I am lookin' fer alcohol in front of an alcoholic," he spluttered.

Amos quietly cleared his throat. "Er – two, actually," he corrected with two fingers raised. "But it doesn't bother me."

"I'm sorry. I got carried away. I wasn't thinkin'. Oh, I'm so sorry," Hagrid wailed.

"You're okay, Hagrid. It's not that big of a deal," Arthur assured.

"It is a big deal," Molly cut in. "I explicitly stated no alcohol was allowed, whether it was intended to be taken out or not."

"Molly, just being around alcohol isn't going to push me over the edge," Arthur reasoned.

Molly fixed him with a stern look. "It has before."

"That was different. I was a day sober, and the only reason I made it that long was because I had been stuck in the hospital and couldn't get any. It's been over two months. I have a little more control over it now."

"I know, and I'm proud of you for that. I am. But with the problems you were having earlier –"

"Why don't we take this somewhere more private?" Arthur interrupted.

Without protest, Molly followed him into the kitchen.

"Look, as far as I know, I will always have times where I want to drink. Some are bound to be worse than others. But that's part of life for me now. I don't want other people to not be able to drink because I'm around." He took her hands in his. "This is my problem."

"I know. I just don't want to take any chances. I don't want to lose you again." She squeezed his hands. "I can't lose you again."

As much as Arthur wanted to tell her everything would be alright, as much as he wanted to ease her fears, he couldn't. It was impossible to guarantee he wouldn't drink again, but he would do his damndest to make sure that didn't happen. All he could do now was hold her close.

"I know we knew this was a possibility," Molly mumbled into his chest, "but I didn't think it would actually happen to you. I wasn't prepared for any of this to happen."

"It caught me off guard, too."

Arthur kissed the top of her head before leaning back. "Hey," he said. Molly looked up at him. "Our little girl just got engaged. Let's not miss celebrating that milestone with her."

With that, they rejoined the others.

A/N: Thank y'all for reading and for all the reviews, favs, and follows since the last chapter. A special thanks to THGHPTVD2 and the most recent Guest for the long and thoughtful reviews.

I am a bit uncertain if I portrayed Hagrid correctly in this chapter, so input on that would be helpful and much appreciated.

Also, I've noticed recent chapters have been long. Are y'all okay with that? Or would you like them shorter?

Please drop more reviews! I love hearing from y'all!

Oh! And check out "Fatherhood" by MandyinKC for snippets of Arthur and each of the Weasley kids. She is a fantastic writer and does a great job portraying the Weasleys!