Chapter 2
Percy’s eyes shot open.
The first thing he was aware of was that his head was killing him. It was pounding as if someone had started playing the drums inside his skull. His hands rose to his head to try to find the source of the pain, but all he could do was press his hands over his eyes to block out the sunlight blinding him.
He groaned and tried to form the words, to ask what happened, but who would be there to answer him? He was the only one in his flat, so if he had somehow cracked his head open, who would be there to care?
Percy tried to sit up, and his back protested the movement. His head swam at the motion, and he almost collapsed right back down before gentle hands caught him and carefully laid him back on the ground.
“Geesh, Percy, careful, mate.”
Percy froze at the voice. A voice he hadn’t heard in over a year but would still recognize anywhere.
“That was quite a fall,” the voice continued, and Bill’s face, unmarred and concerned and alive, came into view.
“Bill?” Percy’s mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
Bill smiled. “Yeah. You coming back around, Perce?”
“What happened?”
How are you alive?
“Well, someone,” Bill glared at something out of Percy’s direct line of sight, “Well, actually two someones thought it would be funny to scare you at the top of the stairs.”
“We didn’t mean for him to fall!”
“We would never do that!”
Percy sat up and spun around so quickly, his stomach revolted and he almost threw up, but he had to see to know for sure.
But the faces matched the voices. Two faces-or was it just one face if they were identical?- he thought he would never see again.
Fred and George looked close to tears with worry as they stared at their brother lying at the bottom of the staircase. Fred’s lifeless smile wasn’t fixed on his face; George’s eyes were still blinking and expressive and not blank and empty. They were alive.
The world pitched at Percy’s sudden movement, and this time, he did vomit.
Hands-Bill’s hands, not scarred from trying to defend himself against Fenrir Greyback- grabbed Percy’s shoulders to keep him from collapsing into a puddle of his own vomit. All Percy could see were deep, ugly scars and lifeless smiles and empty eyes, and none of it matched up with unscarred hands and concerned faces and worried eyes. He couldn’t make sense of anything, couldn’t think past the pounding in his skull. The world kept flickering in and out of focus: one minute, Fred was on the ground, surrounded by rubble with a smile frozen on his lifeless face, and the next, he was standing on the stairs and looking so guilty and ashamed and panicked and concerned. One minute, George was on the ground, bile and blood pooling in his mouth and his eyes wide open and staring blankly at the ceiling, and the next, he was standing beside Fred, looking just as guilty and ashamed and panicked and concerned. One minute, Bill was lying in a casket with his once handsome face clawed and mutilated and almost unrecognizable, and the next, he was behind Percy, holding him, his unscarred face swimming in and out of Percy’s fuzzy vision.
Percy spat out the rest of the vomit, and for a moment, the disgusting puddle of sick was replaced with blood: the blood of his mother and father and siblings.
Percy couldn’t handle it. The world didn’t make sense. Maybe it never did.
“Bill, I-“
Percy couldn’t even finish his sentence. His mind couldn’t cope with the absolute change in reality. The pounding in his head grew unbearable, and Percy passed out.
The next time Percy came around, he was much more lucid.
Seeing Bill sitting at his bedside still gave him a bit of a shock when he first woke up, but after a few thundering heartbeats, he recalled turning the Time Turner, the sand swirling inside of the glass sphere as the sands of time flowed backwards.
And then the fear and panic and uncertainty and confusion was replaced with relief.
It had worked. It had actually worked.
Tears sprung to Percy’s eyes, and he almost started sobbing. His family was alive. He had a second chance. It seemed too good to be true, but Bill was at his bedside, alive and unscarred, as living proof.
Bill stood up when he noticed Percy’s eyes open, glistening with unshed tears. Percy’s vision was still a little touch and go, but he could still see the concern in Bill’s eyes.
“Percy, are you okay?” Bill asked.
It took Percy a moment to comprehend the question. He nodded, a little bit slower than he intended to, but he couldn’t look away from Bill’s concerned eyes.
Yes. I’m okay. I’m better than okay, Percy thought, but he didn’t know how to say that without sounding crazy.
Bill sighed in relief. “Good. But just in case, how many fingers am I holding up?” Bill held up a couple of fingers, but they looked a little fuzzy.
Percy squinted. “Three?”
Bill frowned and looked at his own fingers, as though he was double checking how many he was holding up.
Bill shrugged and dropped his hand. “Close enough.”
Percy winced against the pounding still present in his head (although it had thankfully lessened while he was unconscious, so he could at least think somewhat clearly). “What happened?” Percy asked.
Bill frowned again. “You mean you don’t remember?”
Percy slowly shook his head. “I remember a little bit. I remember… the twins. I remember waking up at the bottom of the stairs, but that’s about it.”
Bill nodded, but his frown only deepened. “Well, the twins thought it would be funny to scare you at the top of the stairs. You tripped and fell all the way down the stairs. Banged your head pretty good. We think you have a concussion.”
Percy blinked. “I guess that explains why it feels like there’s a pack of wild dragons stomping around inside my head.”
Bill chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably going to be feeling that for a few days.”
Percy groaned. Not even a full day in the past, and he was already hurt. “Of course I am.”
“Is he awake?”
The voice made both Bill and Percy turn towards the door.
“Percy!”
Two identical redheads sprinted into the room and nearly vaulted themselves onto the bed as they shoved Bill aside to invade Percy’s personal space.
“Are you okay?”
“We’re so sorry!”
“We didn’t mean for you to get hurt!”
“Are you okay?”
“Are you okay?”
“Are you okay?!”
Percy waved his hands frantically to get them to stop. His poor skull was only pounding more and more with all of their yelling.
“I’m fine!” Percy promised. “But my head still hurts, so please stop yelling.”
Fred and George promptly clamped their mouths shut.
“Sorry,” they chorused, thankfully much quieter this time.
“Percy, we’re so sorry!” George exclaimed.
“Yeah, we seriously didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” Fred added.
“You better be sorry,” Bill started, angrily, but Percy waved a dismissive hand.
“Guys, it’s okay. It was an accident,” Percy said.
The twins and Bill looked shocked. To be fair, though, that was probably out of character for Percy, or at least the Percy they knew. The Percy they knew probably would’ve started lecturing them by now, not… forgiving them just like that.
Percy winced as his head pulsed with a particularly powerful throb.
“Just promise to never do anything like that again,” Percy added.
Fred and George quickly nodded.
“Of course-“
“-we won’t!”
Percy nodded. “Then, it’s fine.”
The twins sighed in relief.
“Now let him get some rest,” Bill said, and the twins nodded and left the room.
Percy hesitated, waiting until after the twins were gone. “Bill, I have a question, but please don’t look at me like I’m crazy.”
Bill blinked in confusion and curiosity, his frown deepening. “Okay?”
“What’s the date?”
Bill blinked again, this time in worry. “July 31st.”
“Year?”
Now, Bill looked a little scared.
“1990.”
July 31st, 1990.
…
Okay, Percy could work with this.