Chapter 1
If they stopped to think about it, it was odd, really, how they were the ones that survived to the bitter end. If you had asked any of them, they would have told you that they had expected Harry Potter to survive. Or Hermione Granger. Or even Ronald Weasley.
But the Golden Trio didn’t, so neither did the rest of the Hogwarts students that stayed to fight during that final battle, nor the members of the Order of the Phoenix. One by one they all fell, like puppets whose strings had been cut. And Hogwarts, sweet, sweet, Hogwarts became nothing more than a mourning tomb.
So it was strange that after a year of constant battle and death, the last people to hold down the fort were the three people you least expected: Neville Longbottom, Percy Weasley, and Draco Malfoy. None of them knew how they had ended up being the last men standing, in the haze of battle there is no such thing as time or awareness for others, only survival.
So they had survived and they had prevailed.
Until they couldn’t.
They were outmatched now, three against an entire army. There was no chance of survival, and they all knew it. But they wouldn’t let Voldemort and his army take over Hogwarts and pervert it, ruin it like they did everything they had ever touched. So they kept going, out of spite, out of grief and anger because if it was their destiny to die in some ruined corner of the castle, then so be it, they had lost their fear of death on the second month of this battle anyway.
If they were going to burn, then so would a good portion of Voldemort’s army.
This they had vowed to themselves.
It was a simple plan, really, all they had to do was lead as many Death Eaters, werewolves, and monsters deeper into Hogwarts. Past the Great Hall, and the classrooms, and the littered bodies on the ground, and up the stairs to the seventh floor.
They stood at the end of the hall, in front of wooden double doors, none of the Death Eaters or monsters took notice of the fact that there were only two boys standing at the end of the hall, not three. Neville and Draco fought until their dying breaths to keep Voldemort’s army from getting past the wooden doors. It was a losing fight for them from the beginning, but they knew that, they weren’t there to win this battle, they were there as bait.
And Percy? He was inside the Come and Go Room, inside the metaphorical heart of Hogwarts. It was a bare room with cobblestone floors and six pillars supporting the ceiling. The newly conjured room, had a wall at the very end of it, completely filled with rows upon rows of neatly carved golden runes. They were the wards that were ment to keep students safe, wards that gave Hogwarts life. Percy noticed that some of the runes were not glowing gold like they were supposed to.
They had been deactivated.
And something bubbled in his throat, hysteria, he realized absently. Maybe it was the irony of the situation or the knowledge that the end was very near, but he really couldn’t help the laughter that escaped his lips when his eyes fell on the deactivated runes. Because he had known, just like he had known all those years ago, the harsh truth that everyone refused to believe and turn a blind eye to.
Albus Dumbledore would be the ruin of them all.
Even now, even beyond the grave, he had found a way to screw them all over. Because the runes Dumbledore had deactivated, something only the Headmaster had the power to do, were the ones that were supposed to make the castle impenetrable. He had deactivated the runes that prevented dark objects and possessed people from actually making their way into Hogwarts’ grounds. He had deactivated the lockdown rune sequence in case of an overtaking, something that could have protected the students this entire year. And there were other sequences and single runes missing, that Percy didn’t know the function of, but he could guess.
He looked down at the sledgehammer in his hands, gripping the handle tighter until his knuckles turned white against his bruised and blood-covered hands. Percy didn’t know if the blood was his, or his parents, from one of his siblings, or even from his many Death Eater victims.
He didn’t know.
What he did know, however, was that he had a job to finish, so without hesitation, Percy lifted the sledgehammer in the air and swung.
And swung.
And swung.
Again, again, and again.
Until the wall in front of him began to crack, until he could feel the electric magic seeping into the air, making the hairs at the back of his neck stand and the cobblestone floor reflect the eerie glow of the runes. Even then, even as he felt the entirety of Hogwarts shake and quake beneath his feet, he didn’t stop.
Not until he landed one final blow that made the wall explode and the world go boom!
It’s a strange feeling to wake up in the dark, covered in sweat, blood, ash, and grime. It was even stranger to wake up in the middle of a forest, body aching and head pounding him to death with no recollection of how he got there. Percy inhaled sharply, eyes snapping open wide, life being gasped into him with each shallow breath he took. The world was hazy, blurring and blinding him to his surroundings, the outlines of trees were blurring together as one, and Percy had to blink rapidly to understand what was happening.
But it was useless.
There was a buzzing in his mind, it refused to go quiet, his body ached in places it shouldn’t be possible to ache and he felt something warm trickling down his back and from the inner corners of his eyes. Percy knew what it was before he saw it, but that didn’t stop him from trying to confirm it. And sure enough, when he reached a trembling hand up to touch his cheek and inspect it, he saw blood-coated fingers.
Percy laughed; high, hollow, and hysterical into the dark night, he couldn’t help it. He laughed more than he had his entire lifetime, and it wasn’t long before his laughter turned into sobs, comprehension seeping into his mind.
He had survived.
Oh, how he regretted this outcome.
Percy cried his grief out, cried for the Fallen, for his family. For Neville and Draco, the closest thing he ever had to friends. Because despite not knowing how he had gotten to wherever he was, he knew they hadn’t survived. Percy couldn’t feel either of them, couldn’t feel the same echo of magic and promised oaths etched into his soul as he used to, he just felt… empty.
Percy turned his body on his side, the most he could do without his back screaming in agony, curling his body into the fetal position. He cried into the night until his body and soul had gone numb, screamed until his throat was raw, and then stared at the grass and dirt underneath him with dead-soulless eyes until he fell asleep.
Ten miles away from where Percy was, a house was burning. In it were the chard bodies of three unknown men. The house had been old and rundown, doors and windows barely hanging on by their hinges, it was a two-story grey-ish house. Three men had been sitting at the dinner table, playing poker, smelling of cheap beer, and days of not washing.
They each had a cigar in hand as they eyed each other’s poker faces, trying to find cracks in each other's masks. And there was the smell of death in the air, none of the men seemed alarmed by this, in fact, there were quite aware of were it was coming from. In one of the rooms on the second floor of the house, stuffed in a tiny closet, laid the bodies of two small children, their thin bodies chained to the wooden floor.
They had been taken by Death an hour prior, may their souls finally rest in peace.
So the Universe had no qualms about recreating the magical blast that had happened at Hogwarts before. There was a big boom that shattered the windows of the house and incinerated the house and every one of its occupants. The blast caused the electricity of the little town down the hill from where the house stood, to flicker in and out for a few long moments before it settled. The tall unnatural blue flames that rose from within the house were even more visible in those few moments when everything was dark in the little town.
It had become a beacon, drawing people from their homes and towards the burning house on the hill like moths being drawn toward light. People screamed for someone to call the firefighters or an ambulance, the people of the town did both.
At exactly eight-fifteen at night, ten minutes after they had been called in, firefighters rushed over to the house on the hill to extinguish the fires, to no avail. The eerie blue fire seemed to have a mind of its own, refusing to be put out and refusing to part and let the firefighters in to rescue survivors.
It was then the blue fire seemed to roar with life, spreading outward and away from the house, heading toward the forest behind the house. The firefighters divided and conquered, half tended to the burning house and the other half trailed after the fire that was making its way deeper into the forest.
The fire didn’t spread into smaller sections or set everything on fire, it seemed to have a single goal in mind. The firefighters tried to extinguish the fire, but it only seemed to aggravate it more, they noticed that they had walked almost ten miles from the house when the fire stopped spreading and they saw it.
The body of a boy lying on the ground, covered in blood and ash.
Evelyn Grace, a newly graduated Auror, ran down the corridors of the Ministry of Magic with a letter tightly clasped in her hand. She hastily apologized as she passed, bumping into strangers and colleagues alike, at the moment not really caring about politeness. She didn’t stop running until she stopped in front of a cherry wood door with a golden plaque that had, the Head of the DMLE, engraved on it with big block letters.
Evelyn didn’t take a moment to catch her breath or slow down the beating of her heart as she all but barged into Amelia Bone’s office. Two heads snapped towards her the moment she opened the door, Amelia Bones was sitting on her desk, a quill in hand, as she tried to do paperwork but kept being interrupted by someone. That someone was Minister Fudge who stood in front of Madam Bone’s desk with a lime green bowler hat and robes.
They had clearly been having a heated discussion before she interrupted, Evelyn could feel the tension prickle at her skin and make the hairs at the back of her neck stand the moment she walked into the room and closed the door behind her with a loud bang.
“Auror Grace what-”
“They found him, ” Evelyn quickly interrupted Madam Bones before she was reprimanded for her rude behavior. “They found Percival Weasley.”
“Good graces!” Minister Fudge exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. “Did they really?”
Evelyn nodded, handing the letter she had received to a stunned Madam Bones who snatched it from her hands to immediately start reading it. “I received a message from the Obliviators, who received a message from the Unspeakables, who told them that yesterday at around eight-thirty in the night, there was a magical explosion in a small town in the middle of nowhere. The explosion came from inside the house and caused it to go up in flames killing three men inside it.”
Madam Bones placed the letter on her desk, a look of worry crossing her face. She propped her elbows on her desk and rubbed a tired hand over her face. “What of Mr. Weasley? Where was he? Is he…” Madam Bones trailed off, unable to bring herself to finish the sentence. The thought of knowing an innocent child of one of her colleagues, a good one at that, was out there dead, had died alone and afraid made her stomach twist and turn painfully.
“No. No,” Evelyn whispered, shaking her head softly, the adrenalin of the discovery and the run she had made from her office to Madam Bone’s, finally wearing off. And the reality of the situation and the gravity of it finally dawned on her. “He was found alive, not ten miles from the crime scene, but he is in critical condition as of now. He was transported to the nearest hospital, a town over, from where he had been found and immediately placed in intensive care.”
“He needs to be transported to St. Mungo’s, immediately!” said Fudge. “The press will have our heads if they find out we didn’t do everything in our power to get the boy magical help!”
Madam Bones glared up at the Minister for his lack of empathy for the situation, but other than that, she practically ignored the Minister like he wasn’t even there. Madam Bones turned her attention back to Evelyn, and the Auror immediately straightened into attention.
“Send off a letter to St. Mungo’s, tell them to be prepared for Mr. Weasley's immediate arrival. I want a detailed report from both the Unspeakables and the Obliviators, I want to know how this case landed on both their desks and why.” Madam Bones then turned to the Minister, her lips twisting up into a false smile, not that the Minister seemed to notice. “Would you do me the honor of gathering the reporters from the press, Cornelius? I believe it is important the public knows that the Ministry is handling this situation to the best of our abilities, don’t you think?”
Minister Fudge nodded vigorously, already making his way out the door the moment he hear the words ‘reporters’ and ‘press’ in a single sentence. “Right. Right. Do keep me informed of the situation, Madam Bones. The public must not question the competency of the Ministry again.”
As soon as the Minister walked out the door and closed it behind him, Evelyn turned back to Madam Bones and asked, “Is the need to involve the media in this really that important?”
Madam Bones pressed her lips into a thin, displeased line, “It is for the Minister, I presume it is such a great relief for him now, to be able to tell the people how he has everything ‘under control’. Did you know that before you barged into my office he was insisting that I officially declare Percy Weasley as dead?”
Evelyn’s mouth dropped, “What! But the mandatory eighteen months haven’t even passed, yet! Eighteen months have to pass before we are allowed to declare a missing person as dead! And even then, we didn’t have enough proof to say he was. All we knew was that he went missing in Diagon Alley when his family was out shopping for school supplies for the boy's eldest brothers! Why would he ask such a thing from you?”
Madam Bones hummed as she stood from her seat, “Because the press and the people have been hounding him to find the boy, calling him all kinds of idiot under the sun for not being able to find Percy Weasley after a year of searching. This all makes him and us look incompetent in the people’s eyes, and Fudge cannot stand it a second more. So he thought that by declaring Percy Weasley dead the people will forget about this, that he could sweep it under the rug and we could all move on.”
Evelyn winced, “Except for the Weasleys.”
Madam Bones paused and then sighed, “Yes, except for the Weasleys.”
“So you just brought up the subject of the press to what, make sure the Minister makes us and him look competent, or to get the Minister out of the away?”
Madam Bones snorted, moving to the coat rack next to her desk to retrieve her coat. “Fudge can’t make anyone look competent even if his life depended on it. No, I need him out of the way. I didn’t want him tagging along with me to visit the Weasleys, he’ll just be insensitive to the situation and probably ask something stupid of them like an interview to tell the Wizarding World that they didn’t blame the Ministry for not finding their son sooner.”
Evelyn grimaced, “That does sound like something he would do.”
“Yes, it would. Now if you don’t mind I would like to be on my way to inform the Weasleys of the recent news.” Madam Bones moved to hold the door open for Evelyn and together they left her office.
Madam Bones apparated to the edge of the Weasley’s residence, since she wasn’t keyed into the wards of the home, she could not use the Floo. She walked up the little trail that led to the front door of the Weasleys’ home, passing a sign that read: The Burrow.
Amelia only had to knock on the front door once before it flew open, two small little gingered-haired children open the door. “Fred, George,” Amelia greeted them with a small smile, “How are you two?”
“Chipper!” they announced together, giving her toothy smiles.
“Both of your front tooths fell,” She acknowledged out loud, noticing the large gap between their top rows of teeth. They hadn’t had them last time she had come by for a visit, this must have been a new development.
Amelia had become quite acquainted with every member of the Weasley family over this past year. She usually visited them to give them updates on the case, or more often than not, to help Arthur convince Molly to get out of bed. Out of everyone in the family, Percy’s disappearance had hit Molly the worst, and how could it not, the woman was his mother.
The once lively and warm woman had been reduced to nothing more than a mere shell of herself. It had been three months into Percy’s disappearance when something had seemed to just… break inside her. Molly had become a hollow corpse, a living grave. She refused to get out of bed, refused to eat, wash, or even talk most days. Arthur had planned to turn in his resignation in order to be able to take care of his wife and kids to the best of his ability in these dark times.
But of course, Amelia couldn’t allow him to just quit and leave the family just floating adrift without a stable income now that Arthur would no longer be the breadwinner of the family. So Amelia had taken it up with Fudge and spun some bullshit story about how the Ministry would be seen more favorably if they gave Arthur an unlimited amount of leave with higher pay than before to support his family.
Fudge had bought it, much to the displeasure of his Undersecretary.
“They did,” the twins replied as one like they always did, “We are hoping the Tooth Gnomes pay us a visit and leave us money under our beds.”
“I’m sure they will,” Amelia smiled down at them. “May I come in?” She asked, changing the subject. “I’ve come bearing… news for your parents.”
The twins shared a look before they turn back to Amelia, plastic smiles now on their faces. “Sure,” Fred said before he and George stepped to the side and opened the door wider to let her through. Amelia stepped into the Burrow, her eyes drifting around the home out of habit, her Auror instincts kicking in.
There was nothing wrong with the inside of the house per say. On a superficial level, it was clean and well-organized, but there was a lack of warmth clinging to every surface and there was this absolute silence that seemed to somehow echo through the walls and drown everything and everyone in the vicinity. The curtains of the windows had been drawn, making the house go dark but not pitch black. There was no sound of children laughing or running around, no scent of freshly baked goods, or even a hint of anything broken or out of place.
And from what Arthur had told her about his boys, this was highly unusual, there was never a moment of silence or unbroken things in this house.
Amelia felt like she had just walked into a funeral, a living grave, and it made something deep inside her twist painfully with sympathy.
“Mum and Dad are in their room, mum’s been crying again,” George informed her casually like this was a very normal everyday thing that just happens. Amelia supposed it did, their brother had been missing for over a year now and during that time their mother had broken down crying at random times of the day, Amelia had seen it happen more than a handful of times herself.
Sometimes, Molly’s mind would wander off during a conversation, and it always seemed to wander back to her lost son one way or the other. Other times she would accidentally glance at the family’s clock, perched on a wall in the living room, out of habit, and see Percy’s hand swinging from pointing at ‘Mortal Peril’ to ‘Lost’. And at times when they would be very unlucky, Molly would see Percy’s serious or scowling face on a family photo and just barricade herself in her room, crying herself to sleep with the picture tucked despairingly to her chest.
“Thank you. Fred. George,” Amelia nodded to the boys with a sad smile, “I’ll go search for them.”
The twins just nodded and moved to take a seat at the dining table, where colorful inks and drawing paper were spread out throughout it. No doubt in her mind, that they had been drawing before she had knocked on the door. She took this as her cue to leave and made her way down the hallway that separated the kitchen from the living room to Arthur’s and Molly’s room.
Fred and George watched Madam Bones disappear down the hallway and into their parents’ room from the corners of their eyes. They only waited for the soft clicking of the door being closed before they both stood and took off running up the stairs, making sure not to make too many sounds and avoid the third step of the staircase that creaked every time someone stepped on it.
“Bill! Charlie! Bill! Charlie!” the twins whispered-shouted as they all but barged into Bill and Charlie’s rooms. Both boys were startled at the sudden appearance of the whirlwind that where the twins. Bill flinched, the clothes he had been unpacking, now that it was the winter holidays, fell from his hands and onto the floor. Charlie jumped in the air from where he sat on his bed, banging his head on the headboard in the process, the dragon book on his lap now forgotten.
“George? Fred? What’s wrong?! Are you hurt?” Bill demanded, walking over to them in alarm, eyes scanning them over for injuries.
“No! No! We are fine!” Fred replied.
“But Madam Bone’s is here,” George added.
“And she said she had news for Mum and Dad,” Fred informed them.
“About Percy!” George clarified.
“What!” Charlie hissed, throwing his precious dragon book to the side, and making his way toward the twins to cease both of them from one shoulder. “When did she get here!? What’s the news!? Did they find him!?”
“Whoa! Whoa!” Bill made placating gestures at all of them, walking over to the open door to close it as softly as he could. “Keep your voice down, Charlie,” Bill warned, “We don’t want Ginny and Ron hearing this.”
Charlie, Fred, and George all grimaced in unison. Ron and Ginny had been kept in the dark about Percy, they were just kids after all, six and five respectively. They were under the illusion that Percy had gone to live with their Aunt Muriel for a time because he had wanted to spend some time combing through her extensive library.
Ginny and Ron hadn’t questioned it much at first, but as time went on, they had developed the habit of asking when Percy would be back every day, without fail, at breakfast. When they were given vague answers by their father and brothers, they would narrow their eyes and purse their lips at each one of them as if they suspected they were being lied to, and the family was just hiding Percy somewhere.
They were toddlers, not stupid, they knew something was going on even if they didn’t have any proof.
“Now,” Bill began, ushering his brothers to sit on his bed. “Madam Bones. What did she say?”
“She only said she came bearing news,” George said.
“Then she went into mum’s and dad’s room,” Fred added.
“Then we came up here to tell you,” Fred finished.
“Do you reckon they found him? After all this time?” Charlie asked in a whisper, more towards Bill than the twins.
“I don’t know,” Bill whispered back, lifting George off the bed so he could sit on it. He gently placed a giggling George on his lap, arms wrapped around his tiny waist as he rested his chin on top of his head. “I hope so.”
Fred bit his bottom lip, as he shifted his body so his head rested on top of Charlie’s lap. “Do you think he’s okay? Percy?” Fred asked, his voice low and trembling, his eyes beginning to water.
Charlie reached out to comb his fingers through Fred’s hair, beginning to feel a burning lump in his throat. “He’ll be okay,” he promised, and even to his own ears, it felt like a lie.
“But what if he’s dead?” George's bottom lip wobbled, tears beginning to fall from his chubby cheeks. “I was so mean to him last time. I even set his favorite book on fire!”
Charlie flinched when Fred suddenly let out a wail. “I called him a bookworm and bossy!” Fred cried, tears also falling from his cheeks. “I called him a know-it-all too! And a Prat! And-and-” Fred didn't get to finish his sentence because soon after he descended into hysterical sobbing, clinging onto Charlie’s leg for dear life.
George didn’t fare much better after that either, burying his nose in Bill’s neck, trying to hide his tear-stained face as his little body shook from the magnitude of his sobs.
Charlie bit his lip hard, feeling his eyes beginning to sting and the lump in his throat beginning to burn with more intensity.
Even as tears began to gather in his eyes, Charlie refused to let them fall. Maybe later, when Fred and George had gone back to their room and it was only him and Bill left, maybe then, he’ll let himself cry. But right now the twins needed him, they needed both him and Bill.
Charlie glanced at Bill, he had his eyes closed, head tilted slightly upwards as if praying to some kind of higher being. His face had shifted to a pained and agonized one, one arm wrapped around a sobbing George securely, and the other had its hand curled into a tight fist on his lap, knuckles turning stark white and nails digging into the flesh of his palm.
“It’s okay,” Bill suddenly whispered to all of them, eyes snapping open to look all of them in the eye, "We are all going to be okay, I promise. Percy will be okay, and he’ll come home. And he’ll be his normal bookish self, ranting about boring facts he finds fascinating and how he's going to become Minister of Magic when he grows up. And how he is going to be the best in his class, and how he is going to be Prefect and Head Boy, and make mum and dad proud. We’ll all be fine, you’ll see.”
Fred and George seemed to go quiet at his words, the sobbing reducing to mere sniffles. And it wouldn’t be until later, much later, that Bill would realize that no, none of them will be okay and that nothing will be fine or the same ever again.
Ginny and Ron were playing ‘The Princess, The Wizard Knight and the Dragon’ in Ginny’s room at the end of the hall from Bill’s and Charlie’s room, much to Ron’s dismay and slight amusement. He had been forced into a pink princess dress that clashed horribly with his hair, and a flower crown, made from wild flowers Ginny had collected from outside their house, had been placed on his head. Shoes that had round rocks, the bottoms filled down, of course, taped to the back of the shoes to make them seem like high heels.
Ginny had Charlie braid her hair into two french braids, she held a branch from one of the trees outside, poised in her tiny and splintered hands to be used as a sword at any given moment. She had somehow acquired make-up from their mother, painting Ron’s lips bright red with lipstick and using that same lipstick to draw war lines across her cheeks. She had a plain long-sleeved grey dress on that reached to her knees with Ron’s black trousers underneath and brown boots on.
Ron was on top of three big boxes they had claimed to be the ‘Tower’ where the princess was being kept. He was watching Ginny begin to circle their poor-scared pet, Scabbers, all while stuffing his face with the cinnamon rolls his sister had bribed him with to play this game.
Scabbers had been dressed in a red sock, Ron and Ginny had cut holes in it for the rat's head and paws to fit through. They had made a red dragon mask made of parchment and taped it securely to Scabbers’ face, making sure not to suffocate the poor little guy.
Ginny grinned maniacally and moved to strike, Scabbers squeaked and made a run for it.
“Go, Sr. Ginny!” Ron bellowed, watching Ginny and Scabbers with the same intensity he would when watching a quidditch match.
Ginny dove for the rat, and missed it by a hair’s length, if she has known any curses at her age she would have been spatting them at the rat at this every moment. “Come back here, you coward!” Ginny bellowed, “Face me like a man!”
Scabbers tried to make it out the bedroom door, but Ginny was faster, she dove for the rat again and swung her stick. It made impact, Scabbers squeaked in pain and went sailing across the room, landing on Ginny’s bed.
“I got you now!” Ginny taunted, trying to grab the rat by its tail, but Scabbers was on the move again. He escaped Ginny’s grasp, and threw himself in the air, leaping to the nightstand next to Ginny’s bed and then leaping again to climb up the bookshelf.
“Sr. Ginny!” Ron cried, letting a cinnamon roll fall from his hands in surprise, “It’s getting away! Hit it with the stick again!”
“Thanks, Princess!” Ginny cried back before swinging her stick again, hitting the target with a loud smack. Scabbers cried out, lost his balance, and fell off the high bookshelf with a crying squeak. Ginny dove for it again, this time without the stick, her body slid across the wooden floor and caught Scabbers in her hands before the rat could fall towards its death.
Ginny panted and held a fainted-half-dead Scabbers up in the air in victory for Ron to see. Ron sat back, not having noticed he had been at the edge of his seat, and clapped politely as a good princess should. Ginny grinned up at her brother and bowed theatrically at him after she got up. She placed Scabbers in his grave (his cage) and sealed it forever (she’ll probably let him out to eat later).
“Now that the dragon has been slayed,” Ron began, clearing his throat to make it lower and sweet like a fair maiden’s, “I think it is time I should be freed. Oh, brave Sr. Ginny, would you please free me from my tower,” Ron batted his eyes down at her, pretending to swoon, and making the idiot almost fall from the tower.
Ginny’s lips quirked into a small smile, “My, but of course your highness!” Ginny moved a chair to stand next to the Tower to let Ron down. She held out a hand for him to grab as he gracefully descended the tower. When Ron finally made it down to the floor, Ginny kissed the air above his hand and Ron began to knight her.
“I, Princess Ronalda Weasley of Burrow Valley, hereby, knight Sr. Ginny Weasley, as an official knight and protector of this realm. May you protect this land with honor and bravery, with... umm-”
“Faith and grace?” Ginny offered, her body already tiring from kneeling in front of Ron for this long.
Ron waved a dismissive hand and continued hastily, “Yes, yes! With faith and grace, and with nobility and truth. Rise! Rise, Sir. Ginny Weasley, Brave Lioness, Defender of the Innocent, Warrior of the Tower, Slayer of Monsters!”
Ginny rose, head held high, and smiled at Ron. “Well done, Princess, you did better this time. You actually remember most of your lines!”
Ron's entire body suddenly slouched, sitting and walking like a princess was difficult and tiring, not to mention the rocks underneath his shoes were killing him. “Thanks, Ginny,” Ron mutter, “Can I get out of this outfit already? My feet are killing me.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed, walking over near her bed to pick up the stick that had been discarded on the floor. “Yes, Princess, you can retire from your duties.”
And really, that's all Ron needed before he started to pull the dress over his face, revealing an orange t-shirt and black shorts underneath, before kicking off his shoes.
“Careful with the dress, Ron!” Ginny hissed, moving over to her brother to take the dress from Ron’s hands. “It’s the only good dress I have!”
“Sorry! Sorry!” Ron said, holding his hands up in surrender. Ginny huffed, before neatly putting her dress away in one of her drawers.
“We finished early,” Ron pointed out, staring out Ginny’s window to see the sun still high up in the sky. “Usually we finish around lunchtime.”
Ginny stopped in her tracks, the drawer she had placed her dress in being left half open. “Yes, well, usually we don’t have Scabbers playing dragon, now do we?” She asked rhetorically, not turning to face Ron as she did, she waited patiently where she stood, waiting to see if Ron would bring it up or if she would have to.
“No, no he does not,” Ron whispered, turning away from the window and taking a set at the edge of her bed. “Do you think Percy will come back tomorrow? He played dragon better than Scabbers ever did.”
Ginny closed the drawer fully with forced gentleness, “Maybe,” she lied.
Ginny despite being only five, suspected that Percy was never going to come back. He was probably living the life with their Aunt Muriel, going through her library to his heart’s content. Percy wasn’t like any of her other brothers, while he preferred to stay inside and read, the rest of them preferred to go outside and play. While the others preferred to play quidditch, Percy preferred to listen to the Wizarding Wireless to hear the latest political news or that boring show about runes and their theory.
Ginny had more in common with her brothers even though she was a girl than Percy did.
That’s why she wasn’t all that surprised Percy had left, sometimes she had a feeling that Percy didn’t feel comfortable with any of them. Sometimes it felt like there was this invisible wall between the family and Percy, an invisible wall that only she and Percy seemed to be aware existed.
Perhaps it was wrong of her, to feel a little happy that Percy was gone, maybe now he would be happy with Aunt Muriel. But another part of her missed him, she missed playing ‘The Princess, The Wizard Knight and the Dragon’ with him, she missed having him narrate a story for her on the spot every time it rained and thundered and she got so scared that she would sneak into Percy’s and Ron’s room in the middle of the night.
Only to find Percy already awake because Ron had been scared too, and had climbed into Percy’s bed to demand he narrate Ron a story like she planned to do.
She missed the quests he would make up for them to complete like little scavenger hunts around the house. She missed the ridiculous games he would come up with so they would leave him alone to his reading in peace, like sending them off to hunt for fairies in the forest nearby with nets, knowing full well that no fairies lived in the forest.
Percy would hang windchimes made from shards of broken butterbeer bottles from branches he would climb up to. He would do this with the intention of recapturing Ron’s and Ginny’s attention whenever they grew bored and tired from searching for the fairies. The wind would blow and the windchimes would sing, and Percy would go ‘Do you hear that! It’s the fairies!’ and Ron and Ginny would take off running in the direction of the sounds, only to lose them when the winds stopped blowing.
Of course, Ron didn’t know about the windchimes that hung from the tree branches, he was still under the illusion that fairies did in fact live in the forest near the Burrow. But Ginny had known better, actually, it had been just last summer before Percy went away, that she had just so happened to look up as the sun hit the shards of glass and the wind blew, that she discovered the devastating evidence. She had never felt as crushed, or as lied to as she did then. She had been so angry at first, so utterly devastated at the news, that she didn’t speak to Percy those following days leading up to him leaving.
She regretted it now, of course, she didn’t know if she would ever see Percy again or if he would forgive her for ignoring him this entire time.
Not that it was completely her fault anyway.
She and Ron had tried to write to Percy multiple times over these past few months, they had really-really tried, but every time they tried to send off a letter with their family owl, they were intercepted by one family member or another.
It was as if the family didn’t want them to have any contact with Percy at all!
She hated them all now because of it- well maybe hate was a strong word, it was more like she was very aggravated and resentful towards her brothers and her parents. On some level, Ginny blamed all of them for Percy being gone, it had probably been their idea to send him away to live with their Great Aunt Muriel to begin with!
She was sure that Ron felt the same way towards their family too, considering he had followed her lead in avoiding their family in every capacity that didn’t regard asking when lunch and dinner would be served, to demand other things, or to ask when Percy would be back each morning.
“Maybe, he’ll be back by Christmas!” Ron said cheerfully, always so innocent and naive.
“Yeah,” Ginny whispered, not being able to look Ron in the eye as she lied. “I’m sure he will be.”