"Percy?" George's voice pieced through the cloud of grief, and slowly he looked up.
"George?" he replied, and kicked himself for making it a question. The time when he would have to ask Fred or George when a twin looked at him was over now. "Yeah?" he said, to cover for his mistake, but George's face had darkened.
"Don't you know yet?" George asked. "Haven't you heard?"
Of course he had. Irritation and anger overcame Percy, and he stood up quickly, about to snap at him, but then he saw the blank expression on George's face and didn't have the heart.
"I've heard," he said simply.
"How... how did you know?" George said, making no attempt to hide his suspicion.
"I was there," Percy said dully. "I saw him die."
And George's face crumpled, and he began to shake uncontrollably. Percy sank down next to him, patting him on the back, his own eyes filling with tears.
"You shouldn't have seen..." George wailed. "You didn't deserve to see- you're in the Ministry..."
A cold hand seemed to grasp Percy's heart, and it was all he could do to not shake him. But he was depressed- he didn't know what he was saying, did he?
"Was in the Ministry," Percy corrected. "But, George, I'm your brother."
"He's only by blood," George sobbed, and Percy felt slightly nauseousness, noticing the change in person. He couldn't bear to be round him anymore, and strode quickly away; and threw up by the side of the battle.
A/N: This is shorter than I meant it to be, but it seemed right to keep it brief. Please review! I've never really done a post-war fic before, and I appreciate constructive criticism.