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Incessant banging on the door woke George up. It didn’t help that his head was close to splitting open after those ten shots of Firewhiskey last night.
“BUGGER OFF! I’M FINE, A’IGHT?”
The banging didn’t stop.
George groaned, clutching his good ear as he removed a piece of rubbish plastered to his forehead. “Look Ron— or Dad— Bill— Lee—Harry— I don’t fucking care if you’re the BLOODY MINISTER— FOR THE LAST TIME JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”
There was silence. George sighed in relief.
Then BOOM! as his front door was blasted open.
That got George to sit up.
Panting in the doorway, removing shreds of debris from his robes, was Percy Weasley.
“When’d you start doing that?” said George in amazement.
“Now, I guess,” said Percy, looking mildly surprised himself.
-
George sat glumly in his chair, watching as Percy rushed about the flat like a mother hen, setting spells to clean George’s massive pile of dirty dishes, fold away his rumpled clothes scattered on the floor, and remove layers of dust from his furniture.
“I like it the way it is,” muttered George.
“Sure you do.”
“Percy, look. I’m fine. Really.”
Percy stopped waving his wand and stared down at George.
“George, will you take a look around you? Or even take a look at yourself? How long has it been since you even looked in a mirror—“
Percy stopped talking at the look on George’s face.
“I’m sorry,” said Percy softly. “I know…”
“Do you though, Perce? Everyone says they know, how hard it must be, they understand… but DO THEY?”
George buried his face into his hands. He couldn’t even cry anymore. His grief had wrung him dry.
“You’re right,” said Percy quietly. “You’re right, George. I can’t really know what it’s like.”
Percy placed a hesitant hand on George’s shoulder. George shook him off.
“But George, please. You have to know something. You’re not alone. Let us help. Please.”
This time, George let Percy put his arm around him.
“Only ‘cause I’ve never heard you say ‘please,’” he mumbled. “And by the way, you’re a terrible hugger.”
Percy chuckled.
-
A few hours later they were sitting at the same table, sharing a pipe of Diagon Alley’s finest tobacco and finishing off George’s last bottle of Firewhiskey.
“Perfect Percy, first blasting open my door, now this,” said George, shaking his head. “What’s next? Robbing Gringotts? Flying dragons?”
“I think I’d start with world domination,” said Percy without blinking.
George stared at him incredulously.
“Merlin’s bollocks, you just made a joke, didn’t you?”
Percy actually looked sheepish as he shrugged.
“Why’d you have to be such a prat before, Perce? If Fred could see you now…” George trailed off.
Percy looked at him sadly.
“I’m sorry, George.”
“Oh, enough already.”
“No, George, let me finish.” Percy took a deep breath, staring at his half-empty glass. “I’m sorry I was with Fred when he died… when you should have been the one there with him.”
They stared at one another for a few moments without saying anything.
Then George looked away, passing a hand over his face. When he looked back at Percy, his eyes were rimmed red but he smiled anyway.
He raised his glass, and Percy did the same.
“To Fred,” they said in unison, and drank deeply.
-
“I think that’s the worst part of it, you know,” said George, later, when the room was all hazy and blurry around the edges. “I never got to say goodbye.”
“But could you have, George?” Percy asked softly. “Said goodbye, I mean?”
George closed his eyes, imagining himself standing before Fred, his brother and his best friend, the other half to his soul… and having to send him away, to somewhere very far, without George there by his side.
“Probably not,” said George. “I’d either stop him from going… or I’d follow him. No in-between.”
Percy shuddered. “George, you’re not…”
“No, Perce. I’d be lying if I said I never thought about it. But,” said George with a quiet laugh, “Fred would never forgive me.”
“He sure won’t,” agreed Percy.
-
“I have an idea,” said Percy suddenly, right as George was drifting to sleep.
“Hm?”
“Come on, George,” said Percy, poking him. “Let’s go.”
“You’re really annoying, Percy,” grumbled George as he was forcibly dragged away.
-
They stood on top of an isolated hill on a frigid early morning, the sun not yet peeking over the horizon. It took them a while to assemble everything to their satisfaction, but finally they were ready.
George found himself grinning nonstop for the first time in a long time. He looked at Percy, who looked back at him in equal excitement. Together they shouted:
“Three-“
“-two-“
“-one-“
BAM! BANG! WHOOSH!
The Weasleys’ Wildfire Whiz-Bangs set off in spectacular sequence, filling up the dark sky with light, noise, and color.
George watched the fireworks go as his own heart seemed to tighten, swell, and break all at the same time.
“I really miss him, Percy. You know?” said George, his voice cracking.
“Yeah. I know.”
-
When it was all over, the silence wasn’t numb or depressing. It was just peaceful. The brothers remained sitting there on that hill for a while, shoulders touching, until the sun rose over the fields.
“Thanks, Perce.”
“You’re welcome, George.”