All characters belong to JK Rowling.
For the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Round 6 -Post War story. Prompt used: Dialogue: "I have no money left"
Please review :)
Percy sat at his desk in his office. Paperwork was piling up on the trays, stationary piled up around his workspace. There was a piece of paper in front of him, but he couldn't remember what it was even meant to be. A report on magical items he was supposed to write yesterday, but forgot? A proposition to the minister about the Auror department he meant to write for ages, but didn't? He looked at the clock on the wall. It was magnificent, the carefully-carved handles ticking at an exact second at a time, pointing to careful graphics of planets and stars and constellations. He always meant to see how they were made, maybe he can schedule an appointment to the factory today? No, this wasn't what he was supposed to do. He shook himself, and returned to gaze at the blank sheet in front of him. Why was his attention so scattered? He used to be able to focus for days on end.
He used to able to focus for days on end. The war change him, he knew. He was more dedicated to his job and studies than anything else in his life before the war. But war changes men, and he had to admit this change was probably for the good. The war taught him to care, to support, to live. He was a bit disappointed it had taken so much for him to realise his love for his family. He was constantly mad at them, before the war: mad at them for annoying him, for cutting his focus, for bringing him into a world where there was neither money nor justice.
A knock sounded from his door.
"Come in," he said. Even to himself he sounded whithered and tired, voice croaking from lack of sleep and also lack of productivity.
"Hey." This, in contrast, was a young and hopeful voice he could not dream of hearing again, not after what he had done to him. He lifted his head to look at the figure in the doorway, a figure he would be in debt to for the rest of his life.
"George? What are you doing here? I thought-"
"You thought I wouldn't forgive you, didn't you?" Percy nodded slowly. He felt ashamed, but was unsure if it was for what he had done or for his belief that George would hold a grudge against anybody. He felt guilty whenever George did or said anything, because mostly it proved that he was still and ever will be a better person than Percy.
"I came to say thank you."
"Thank you? What for? All I ever did was shout at you, tell you off, betray you. I don't deserve thanks. I should be thanking you for not hating me." He looked up with tearful eyes. All of these things were haunting him for weeks now, not letting him have a moment of peace for himself.
"You pulled me away from Fred. You were the only person who saw what was happening to me. So thank you." A moment of silence followed.
"I— It was all I could do. After all I've done, it was all I could do to repay you. You and Fred. I didn't want to see both of you broken, together with everything happened. I could still save you, at least."
"You did." George had an odd, pleading look in his eyes. What had he to plead for? He had nothing to be forgiven for, nothing to ask for from anybody. He never betrayed, never left, he was always there for anybody who needed him, even at the darkest moments he cheered the entire population up, and yet, everything that could possibly go wrong happened to him. The entire universe owed George an apology, why was he pleading from Percy? "We'll be alright, you know. It will all be fine. We'll get through this. The hard part is over now. Now we just need to fix our lives."
"I have no money left, George. Nobody to talk to, nowhere to go. I can't even get my job done, because I keep worrying about whether you guys will ever forgive me. I have nothing." He looked to George for reassurance, and found his own expression mirrored in his brother's face. What kind of brother he was, not even realising his younger brother came to him for support?
"You can talk to me. I'm not sure if everybody else forgave you, but they will. You did the right thing at the end, didn't you? It has to be alright, at some point in the future. We'll both be alright."
"Yeah. I guess we will."
It was a week since his conversation with George now. Percy left work early that day. He went home, to his real home, and was surprised to be greeted with hugs and smiles. He knew that they didn't forget and didn't get away with it, but he didn't want to. As long as they accepted him, he could prove to them he really did change.
George tried to loan him money, but he refused. Not only on principal, but also because he didn't need it as much any more. For the first time since the war he managed to focus on his job for a whole day. He stopped beating his head against the wall for minimal wage, and actually got the proper pay that lasted him until the next pay, without having to skip dinners and work through the night.
He talked to Ron the other day. An honest conversation, not just awkward small talk like they used to when they passed each other on the street before. It was completely arbitrary: they were considering which Quidditch team was more likely to win this tournament. Thinking back, Percy realised this wasn't the first normal talk he had with his brother since the war, it was the first proper talk he had with his brother, ever. It was the first time he saw how heated Ron could become about the smallest of things, and how fun pointless arguments were with him. He remembered the previous Quiddith tournament, in which he acted like a jerk, and smiled as he realised how much he progressed. He was a good person. His family loved him again. All was well.