Lover From the Past
A normal, sunny July morning. Shouts and laughs are coming from a house in the middle of a field, that is the Burrow. Oh, how Percy missed the joy and the fun of it all. Ginny and Ron ran around half-dressed, the twins tried to prove their mother the importance of one of their so said “innovational” invention. Charlie and Bill were having a conversation by the kitchen counter, both with coffee in hand. Arthur was reading a muggle newspaper in the living room couch. Bird chirped outside, warm light came throughout the window. Such a pretty day.
Percy missed these ideal mornings. Even if sometimes it didn’t always go well for him – Percy could share a few examples of some nasty pranks waiting for him even at the beginning of the day – he loved to be around the people he truly loved. These were those rare moments, when he truly felt as if he’d belong.
‘Percy!’ a voice called out for him, but when the boy turned around, no one was there. Another prank, really? Way to ruin his morning…
‘Percy~!’ mentioned person sighed.
‘Come out, I know it’s you two!’
‘Two?’ the voice stuttered. It didn’t click for a second, then the realization dawned on him. Oh. He expected George to come around the corner with a pale, despaired, depressed face. But it wasn’t him. Percy breathed out heavily.
‘Fred?’ no. No, that was wrong. Fred died. Percy could’ve sworn he saw his brother get crushed… But he was there, looking as if he had never died, ‘Oh my Merlin…’ he muttered, putting a hand on his mouth. But the mentioned twin didn’t show any signs of acknowledgement. He just stood, staring with two deep, blue eyes. Percy stared into them and realized that whoever stood infront of him wasn’t his brother. Those two empty orbs told him everything. But then, who was he?
‘No Perce, I’m George! Honestly, you call yourself our brother?’ the voice was so familiar, but Percy just couldn’t believe it. Everything was right yet wrong. No, this can’t be, he told himself over and over again.
‘You’re dead’ he didn’t mean to say that out loud. Percy bit his lower lip, but the person in front of him wasn’t fazed. Or so he thought. The… Thing smiled, but it wasn’t the usual devilish grin, which was often seen on the twin’s face, no. It was a twisted, crooked grin, something dark… Something evil.
‘Of course I am’ he answered, an unnervingly happy tone in his voice, ‘You killed me, remember?’
what? no.
No.
No, no no no no no no no no
That’s not how it happened!
‘Stop trying to prove yourself otherwise’ it’s smile grew wider, more creepy, but Percy wasn’t focusing on that. Drowning in guilt. Falling deeper and deeper… Where is the bottom? Is there a bottom? What if he’ll just sink forever? When will he reach the point, where he’d be deemed unsalvageable? ‘We both know what you are, brother. Face the truth: it’s all your fault. Everything. Because you were selfish and reckless and careless and neglectful. You murdered me in cold blood, and yet you still try to play the victim with that wheelchair of yours? Quit it. Quit it, just quit it. Everyone’s so tired of pitying you, of taking care of you, why must you cause even more problems?’ Percy couldn’t understand. Fred would never say these even in his darkest moods. But this thing… Whatever it was, it wasn’t Fred. It could never be Fred because Fred was dead. He died that night, and Percy didn’t do anything. The nightmare was right. Everything was his fault.
‘Percy…’ someone, from much further away called out. The creature disappeared and Percy was left in the Burrow alone. ‘Percy,’ it was much more clearer this time, and the Weasley realized where the voice came from. The front door was slightly open, light shining through the crack. The boy began to approach it, carefully. ‘Percy’ it had force in it, but the same worry remained as the last two times it spoke. Who was this person?
Percy opened the door, and the light swallowed him.
‘Percy!’ his brother, George called out for the fourth time. And he was awake. Lying in a hospital bed, tired and somewhat numb. What happened earlier… Was that his unconscious mind? ‘Percy!’ the mentioned person opened their eyes and looked around, trying to find the source of the call.
‘George…’ his voice sounded… Weird. It was raspy and weak. As if he’d been crying. But he knew he wasn’t. The younger looked at him with worry and care.
‘There we go…’ he let out a relieved sigh, ‘You scared me back there. I had a whole ass panic attack. Audrey even wanted to keep me here on watch with you, while I wait! I had to be real reasonable for her to stop talking about it. Seriously, how can you bare with that woman? She’s like mum-’ George blinked, then blushed, realizing how fast he began to babbler. Percy laughed, finding his brother hilarious.
‘It’s alright George, I’m fine now. Do you reckon they’ll let us go?’ George raised his eyebrows.
‘Audrey? Pff, perhaps in your dreams mate. That woman has some priorities, and safety is very much on the top’ he grinned. Percy rolled his eyes, then sat up, pulling out an infusion. He then got his wheelchair from his side and hopped into it. George got to his senses and ran to his side. ‘What are you doing? No, no no, you’re staying here! Lay back this instant!’ George could be scary if he wanted to be, but Percy didn’t seem fazed this time. He continued on with his way out, wanting to get some fresh air, wanting to be anywhere but there.
The events from earlier – before he passed out – began to find their way into his head.
Oliver died, huh.
Wait.
Holy shit, Oliver died… Oliver Wood died.
Percy abruptly stopped, the realization hitting him. George caught up with him, looking at his brother with even more concern.
‘Percy?’ he asked carefully, not wanting to scare his brother. Percy shook his head repeatedly, then looked up to meet his brother’s worried eyes. His were full of despair and shock. His face seemed paler than earlier too. ‘Percy?’
‘Oliver’s dead…’ the Weasley whispered, eyes widening. George stopped at the sudden statement. Wait, oh. George nodded warily, then embraced his brother in a comforting hug. ‘Oliver is… Oh my Merlin… Oliver is…’
‘Shhh… I know Perce, I know’ George muttered into his sibling’s ear, reassuringly.
‘George, I want to go home,’ Percy gripped George’s hand, tone pleading. The boy smiled.
‘Alright, if that’s what you desire’ he turned to speak to one of the nurses nearby, but Percy didn’t hear a thing they were saying. Oliver Wood was dead. Deceased, gone. He could never see him again. Percy grabbed his hair, then began to pull on it, biting back a sob. He was then apparated back home. (And he still had all of his limbs. Now that was surprising.)
George pulled his brother onto the couch and the two sat there in each other’s arms.
‘Oliver is…’ Percy gripped his hair tighter, only to have his hands removed, then held. ‘Oliver is dead.’ he said it for about the hundredth time, yet it still seemed so unreal. They sat in silence, George rocking his brother back and forth, until Percy was calm enough to speak in sentences. ‘I… I used to date him’ okay, that wasn’t the first thing George expected Percy to say, but nonetheless, he still listened, ‘We began to date in our fourth year and since then… There were some things that distanced us, but we never broke up… He was my love. My boyfriend. My sweetie… Oh my Merlin…’ he sobbed, and George’s heart broke even more. Not only that his brother didn’t trust them enough to share this information with them, but Oliver had to die before they could even meet and talk. Oliver didn’t live to be threatened by them. To be hugged by them. To be welcomed by them. Because George knew Oliver was perfect and he was sure Percy loved to be with him.
‘Oh, Percy… I’m so so sorry,’ George kissed his brother’s forehead. Another minute of silence passed.
‘We used to sneak around the castle to find a secret place to make out. We surprised each other and helped. Oliver was brilliant. So awfully brilliant. He was too brilliant. Too handsome and kind and helpful and… Why? Why did he have to go? George why? I loved him George. Why does everyone I love get taken away?’ the younger Weasley bit his lower lip, unable to find a proper answer. So instead, he stayed silent, listening to the grieving whispers of his brother. ‘I just… I just want a break… A break from everything… Is that too much to ask?’ Percy shook like a leaf in the arms of his brother. Wait… A break? George suddenly got an idea. He grinned.
‘A break you say?’ Percy looked up to him, then his face turned to confusion, then fear.
‘George? What are you planning?’ the younger boy kept on smiling, silently. Suddenly, Percy was yanked into his wheelchair and they apparated again, this time, somewhere foreign. Wait… Not so foreign. Percy blinked and looked at his brother, completely dumbfounded. ‘George!’
‘What?’ mentioned Weasley didn’t seem to notice the problem. The two were right at the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.
‘I’m not getting drunk’ Percy mentioned, his voice stern.
‘But you are’
‘Am not’
‘But you will be getting wasted and that’s final! You want a break? This is the perfect break. Trust me, you’ll just thank me later’ he said, already pushing his brother inside.
‘I highly doubt that’ for some reason, there weren’t many people. Percy and George sat down and a familiar face appeared.
‘Abott!’ George greeted. The girl turned around. Her eyes widened in surprise.
‘Weasley!’ she turned towards Percy, ‘Weasley,’ the three laughed and Hannah got her pen and quill.
‘What can I get ya?’
‘Two shots of firewhiskey please’ George answered before Percy, who sent him angry and disapproving stares. Abott grinned, and nodded.
‘Two shots of firewhiskey on the way~’ she sung, backing away to get the order. When she was finally out of view, Percy sighed.
‘Really George?’ he grit through his teeth. The younger Weasley just grinned.
After a round or two… Or probably more – Percy lost count at the sixth one – the two were pretty wasted. George was grinning from ear to ear, speaking something inaudible, while Percy rested his head on the table, lightly snoring.
‘Hey- Percy, Percy- Perce Perce, brother? Aww… Iggy~’ Percy looked up, slightly groaning.
‘What do you want George? I’m trying to sleep’ he growled, sending glares through the other, who was sadly too drunk to notice.
‘I called our friend Tommy to pick us up! Do you mind?’ he asked.
‘Who?’ Percy frowned.
‘You know! Our friend Tom, neighbour! Come on, you must remember, he drove us home… oh Percy, I want to go home!’ the explaining turned into a series of whines coming from George, Percy getting shook by him, a familiar person appearing at the door, them being dragged away, put into something, the rest’s a blur…
Percy opened his eyes again to find himself in foreign surroundings. Where was he?