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The days after Fred died were the worst days of George’s life.
Despite his departure from the Burrow years prior, Percy wasn’t an idiot. No matter how much his parents grieved, no matter how much his siblings screamed for it not to be true, George was always going to be the most affected by Fred’s death.
Percy knew this, just like he knew he had no right to be sad. He had no right to cry, and George had said as much.
It had been silent- unnaturally so, for the Weasley household. It had been quiet since Fred had passed the day before, save for hushed condolences and swallowed sobs.
Which is why Percy thought it would be good to come home. “I could help out. Maybe help George run the shop, if he needs it? When he’s ready, I mean. Or I can bring some more income in and start preparing for the services-”
“You can’t fucking… are you serious, Percy?” George’s voice sliced through the quiet kitchen. “Of course, that’s all you ever were. Serious. Right? You can’t sit here and play happy family now that the Ministry’s gone to shambles.” One of George’s hands was shaking, clutching his spoon so hard that Percy was afraid that it would snap.
Percy worried his bottom lip. He knew he needed to make things right; knew he needed to be patient with his brother.
“George, I just want to help-”
“You want to help?” George laughed coldly. “Alright. Okay, Perce. You wanna help me? Get the fuck out of our house. You surrendered your right to live here the second you walked out that door. Fred- Fred could have still been here if you hadn’t…” George choked on a sob, and Molly reached to touch his arm.
“George,” she said gently, but her eyes were warning him to stop.
George wrestled his arm away. “No. If he hadn’t come crawling back to this family, back to fight in the war, he wouldn’t have distracted Fred. We all know that. I’ve heard you all say it. Ginny? You literally mentioned it an hour ago.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Ginny rushed out, panicked. “Really, Percy, it’s-”
“And another thing,” George growled. “If you’re so eager to help, I have an idea. It’s the least you can do.”
Percy raised his gaze to meet George’s. “Anything, George.” He tries to convey his sincerity in his tone. He hopes George can tell how much he wants to make things right (how much he
needs
to make things right.)
“Leave me alone,” George ground out. “Better yet, just get out of our lives! We didn’t need you back then and we certainly don’t need you now.” He finally lets the spoon clatter onto the table. The noise rang harshly in Percy’s head. He tried to focus on that, instead of everything his brother was yelling. “Pack your shit and get out, Percy.”
Arthur cleared his throat. “George, maybe you should take a breather. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know
exactly
what I’m saying, Dad!” George pushed his chair away from the table as he stood up. It fell to the floor, splintering in two. “I want him OUT! Is nobody fucking listening to me? I don’t want him here!” His words were becoming thick with emotion.
Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw Ron stand up, nervous. “Georgie, why don’t we take a walk.”
“Don’t call me that. None of you are allowed to call me that! That was for Fred only, do you understand? You can’t just… you can’t…” George swiped at his face with his hands. He stumbled backwards, face red. “Whatever, alright? I’ll go on a stupid walk, but when I get back Percy better not be here. If he’s here then I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back til he’s gone.” George grabbed Ron’s arm and stormed towards the door, slamming it behind them. The family clock rattled on the wall, Fred’s hand still sticking out like a sore thumb.
Percy rubbed his temples. He felt like he was going to be sick. He wanted to be mad at George so badly. He wanted George to know how much his words hurt- but he knew George had a point. If he’d just chosen a side, if he’d never left in the first place-
“Percy!” Molly exclaimed, waving her hand in front of his face. “Percy, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Mum.”
Mrs. Weasley frowned. “Percy… I hate to ask you this. If you don’t have your own flat, you are of course welcome to stay here… but if you do have one, it might be best- I mean, your father and I don’t blame you at all, and George was wrong to imply as much. We just feel like it might be best if he has some time to adjust.”
Charlie stood up. “Mum, Dad, that’s not really fair. Percy didn’t do anything wrong.”
Percy knows that’s not true.
“I know George is grieving but Percy is, too.”
“No,” said Percy, “it’s okay. I have a place, I’ll spend some time there. George is the priority right now. If it’ll help, I’ll go.”
You don’t fucking have a place, idiot.
Arthur pats Percy’s shoulder. “Thank you, son. I’m sure George will get over this soon.”
“He shouldn’t.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I should go-” Percy cut himself off, realizing he had no idea where he was going to go. “Er, home. I should head…home.”
Even though Percy felt the gaze of several Weasley’s burning a hole into his back when he walked out the door with his suitcase, he didn't turn around. Percy would prefer
to pretend that they’ll miss him. Just for a moment. Even if he knew, in the end, none of them would.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It was late by the time Percy found a place to sleep for the night. It was chilly out, and his bones ached in the frosty air."Fucking idiot," he muttered, for what seemed like the millionth time that day. "Why would you say you have a place?"
He curled further into himself under the Muggle bus stop, and tried not to think.The truth was, Percy was hurt that his parents didn't even pay attention enough to know he didn't have a flat. He tried to rationalize it by reminding himself that
he
was the one who had cut tues with them, but since the battle, he'd been trying. He'd really,
really been trying to make things right.George was right, anyway. What right did Percy have to be there while Fred wasn't? If he hadn't made that stupid joke, then maybe Fred would've moved and the pillar would have crushed him instead-He drew in a breath, the cold air hitting the back of his throat. He couldn't think about that. Not now, anyway.An acorn bounced off the covering of the bus stop, and Percy startled back to reality. He wrapped his jacket further around his frail form, and tried to sleep.
"You're being a dick, George."George barely glanced at Charlie, who was leaning against his doorframe in a no-nonsense kind of way. "Come off it, Charlie. You and I both know the suck-up deserves it."Charlie sighed and slumped down into George's desk chair. "You know that's not fair. He's trying. He only wants to help."George laughed dryly. "Right. Okay. Sure. Let's say his intentions are pure, which they most certainly aren't. How long is it gonna be until he fucks up again? Maybe this time he'll make a stupid decision and it will result in Bill's demise? Or Ginny's?"Charlie scowled. "Watch it, George. Percy is still your brother-""I don't give a rat's ass if he's my brother! He's never acted like it!""Are you
joking?
All he's ever done up until the past few years is make sure you were safe!"George rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that shit, Charlie," he scoffed. "He just treated us like an embarrassment."The room grew dim. Charlie's head fell into his hands, exasperated. "George, he's grieving too. And I know that your grief is very different than ours, and that you feel like this is the only way to make yourself feel better. By lashing out, I guess. But that doesn't mean his grief doesn't exist."George was quiet for a moment. "If he didn't grieve us or reach out even once when he ditched us for that scumbag minister, than how can you be sure he even cares about Fred- about any of us?"For once, Charlie didn't have an answer.
When Percy woke up, his fingers were turning blue.In hindsight, he probably should have been way more concerned about that than he was, but instead he cast a warming spell and hauled himself to his seat. It was time to find somewhere with even the smallest modicum of heat to last him through the winter.He trudged down the street, being careful not to wipe out on the thin layers of ice beneath his feet."Oi!" A voice rang out suddenly. Percy lost his balance and stumbled, sliding across the ice to land on his knees. "Weasley? You alright?"Percy blinked. "Who's there?""It's me, Weasley. Flint, your old pal!"Percy wanted to laugh at that. Marcus Flint had always hated him. As if his luck couldn't get any worse. "Right. Marcus. Whatever you're going to do, just get it over with."Flint leaned over him, green eyes dull. "Weasley, I'm not a kid anymore. I'm not gonna beat you up... are you alright?"Percy smiled wryly. "Does it look like I am?"Flint frowned. "I guess not, mate. What are you doing alone out here on a cold night like this?""I need to be away from home for a while.""Heading to your flat?" Flint asked, helping Percy to his feet. When Percy didn't answer, Flint shot him a smug look. "Oh, don't
tell
me Prefect Weasley doesn't have his own place."Percy shivered. Flint said it like he already knew that. "I have to go, really. Thanks for helping-""Whoa, slow down there, Weasley. You know... I'm in need of someone to help with some household chores. You could stay at my place in exchange for that, until you get back on your feet.""That's kind of you, but I really should be looking into jobs to help pay for Fred's service-""I insist. Come on, it's too cold out here to spend the night." Flint grabbed Percy's arm. "You know you don't have anywhere else to go."Percy froze.
He was right. He didn't have anywhere to go. He had no one left.He looked up at Flint, and knew immediately that Flint was not doing this out of the kindness of his heart. But what other choice did he have?"Alright. I'll work for you."