DO NO READ if you haven't read the 7th book

Author's Note: Percy's reaction after the explosion


"You actually are joking, Perce…I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-"

A massive explosion cut off the rest of Fred's words. We were all thrown in different directions, crumbled rocks flying through the air from the breaking castle walls showering us. I scrambled to my feet, looking frantically around for my friends. I barely registered Hermione trying to stand when I heard a cry.

Turning, I saw Ron kneeling beside-

"No!"

I leapt over the rubble and all but collapsed on top of Fred. His eyes were open, looking up at me, but he wasn't moving.

"No-no-no! No! Fred! No!" I screamed, roughly shaking him. He couldn't be dead; he was too full of life to be dead. Not Fred, half of the dynamic duo, always cracking jokes, always finding the bright side of things.

It couldn't be true. But as I desperately clung to his shoulders, ignoring the sounds of Ron crying and the fight raging around me, I realized it was too late for my brother.

"Get down!" a voice yelled.

Fighting the urge to sob, I flung myself over Fred, cradling his head in my hands, trying to protect him, trying to be his big brother for once.

"Percy!" I felt Ron tugged on my, trying to get me to move, but I wasn't moving, I am a Weasley, and no Weasley gets left behind. "Percy, you can't do anything for him! We're going to-"

More screaming, more curses shouted.

Then Harry was there, grabbing hold of Fred and trying to pull him away from danger. I staggered to my feet, a broken man, and helped hide my brother, making sure he was safe from the Death Eater's cruelty.

I stood back and gazed down at the face I'd taken for granted all my life. Pictures and memories began flashing through my mind: Fred, flushing all my Chocolate Frog cards down the toilet when he was two; Fred, looking nervous but excited as he sat on the stool waiting for the Sorting Hat to be placed on his head; Fred, laughing hysterically, dancing out of reach of an angry Ron; Fred, looking determined, beating away Bludgers from his teammates.

A single tear ran down my face. Why couldn't I have told him how much I loved him when he was still around to hear it? Why did he have to be the one to die, why couldn't it have been me instead?

Dazed, I backed away from niche his body was placed in. Somewhere, in the distance, I heard a girl scream in terror. The stream of memories ended. Suddenly, a fiery, almost unbearable rage overtook me. I looked wildly around and spotted the bastard, running after more children to slaughter.

"ROOKWOOD" I snarled, and dashed after him.

My own safety didn't matter to me as I ran on, no longer ducking when something exploded or bothering to dodge curses. I wasn't going to let him get away. Rookwood had helped kill my brother, and I was going to make sure he suffered.


AN: Raise your hand if you cried when Fred died!