Percy hesitates, staring at the door as though it might attack him. It's been so long since he's returned to the Burrow, to his home. The last time he had, he'd only broken his mother's heart even more.
But that's over. The war is over. No more running and pretending. No more denying who he is and what he's come from.
He lifts his hand, but he stops. Does he knock? Does he simply walk in as though nothing has happened? It's the home he's always known, and yet Percy feels like a guest- or, worse, a stranger.
"Just gonna stand there and watch the paint peel?"
Percy turns to find George behind him. Though his younger brother smiles and teases, Percy can see the pain lingering in his usually mischievous eyes.
"I-"
"If you write a report on the time it takes flakes to drop according to size, I'm putting U-No-Poo in your drink. Swear," George says. With a sigh, he grows serious. "So, you're back?"
The older wizard nods.
To Percy's surprise, George hugs him. "Good. We've missed you. Even me," he admits. "Do I knock?"
"You really are an idiot, Perce," George snorts, pushing the door open and dragging his older brother inside. "Oi, you lot! The royal prat came home!"
Home... By now, it's such a foreign concept. But Percy is tired of running. He's ready to start again.