Weasley Family Fallout

Chapter 1: The Fight

The war was won three weeks ago, and Fred was buried shortly thereafter. Even though Arthur, Bill, and Fleur had all returned to work, life at the Burrow was far from normal. All the kids had moved back home for the next few months, except Percy who had failed to reconcile with his family, even after Fred was killed. Harry and Hermione were staying there as usual..

All the Weasleys had changed in one way or another. Tempers and emotions were running high amongst the family. Fred's death, Percy's failure to come back, and the stress of the whole of the war had been tough on everyone. The person who had been affected most was Arthur, though he didn't show it...or at least tried not to.

As the patriarch, Arthur was expected to be the tower of strength for his family during this difficult time. He was expected to hold his family together and make everything better. After so long, this can wear even the strongest of people down.

The weeks wore on and Arthur was spending more and more time in his shed. Molly and the kids knew where he disappeared to every day. None of the kids dared ask him why or what he was doing in the shed. They decided it best to leave their father alone.

Molly noticed that as time went on her husband had changed. He was acting completely opposite of how he was in the days following the war and Fred's funeral. Anger and frustration were the only emotions he showed nowadays...well, except for the little bit of depression he tried to keep hidden.

On the few occasions where Molly asked what was wrong or why he always went out to the shed, Arthur replied with his temper or a simple "Nothing" Sometimes when she kept badgering him about it, a new hole would end up in the wall. She thought she knew one of the reasons for his isolation, though.

The truth was, after always having to be strong for his family, Arthur was worn down; he couldn't keep up the façade anymore. He felt better when he was alone and away from his family in his shed with a bottle of firewhiskey in hand.

On Thursday, a month after the war, Arthur returned home from work early. When Molly asked him why, he responded with a shrug and headed straight to his shed. He needed to escape from his emotions, from the pressure his family unintentionally put on him, from everything. There was only one way he knew how to escape without showing his weakness – he wasn't supposed to show weakness.

Arthur was sitting in his shed with his back to the door, staring out the window that framed the rolling hills, holding a bottle of firewhiskey. This had become a regular occurrence whenever he was home. Sometimes he would sit out here for hours on end before finally forcing himself togo inside.

Arthur was taking a drink from the bottle when he was surprised to hear a knock at the door. He hadn't even been home an hour, and no one ever bothered him out here.

He ignored the knock, hoping whoever it was would leave him alone, but, unfortunately for him, the door creaked open.

"Arthur?" Molly asked tentatively.

He didn't turn around at the sound of his wife's voice, but let out an exasperated sigh.

"Arthur?" Molly said a little louder and moved a little closer. She saw the firewhiskey in Arthur's hand, but, honestly, she wasn't surprised. This is what she suspected he was doing. She could always tell he had been drinking after coming in from the shed or even coming home from work.

"What?" he snapped, still not turning to face his wife.

"Please come inside. I'm worried about you."

He still didn't turn to look at her, but shifted his gaze to the table in front of him and said, "I'm fine."

"Arthur Weasley, you are not fine." She moved closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder, "Now, pl-"