Bright light and pain. The light hurt worse than almost anything he'd faced so far. Fred tried to open his eyes again, but the light was blinding and the world was a blur. His ears were ringing terribly, too. He closed his eyes and grabbed a hold of whatever was within reach- cool linens. He felt them bunch up in his fists. Fred gasped and wrenched open his eyes. He shouldn't feel linen, only his wand and rocks and maybe even one of his brothers trying to help him up. No. As his eyes refocused, he caught sight of all the glamours of the hospital wing. The only thing new was George in the corner, sitting in a chair. Every other time, they'd been side by side in bed from some prank or Quidditch accident. His eyes flicked back to his brother in the chair. He wasn't sure how long George had been there, or how long he'd been lying in bed. He had more than a day's worth of scruff.
"Oh Merlin," George said, jumping up as he noticed Fred was awake. "Are you alright?"
"Months, maybe even day before, Fred would've had some sarcastic quip about how lying in a hospital bed made him perfectly fine. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Instead, he stared evenly at his twin and asked the only question that mattered to him at that moment.
"Did we win?"
Moments passed before George answered him, and for a dreadful moment Fred imagined that they had lost.
"We won, Fred. We won."
George sighed heavily.
Reassured that Voldemort wasn't about to bust in, Fred checked himself over. HIs ears hurt, his head was bruised, he had more scrapes than he could found, and his shoulder was wrapped up so tightly he couldn't even hope to flex it.
"You broke a couple bones and got hit with quite a bit of shrapnel. They had to dig out all of the shrapnel by hand, so they haven't healed your shoulder yet."
"Oh," Fred said, surprised. "How long have I been here anyway?"
"Three days. They weren't sure when you were going to wake up."
Fred glanced around the room. He'd always imagined that his whole family would be around him if ever anything bad was to happen, yet there was only George. It was odd that his mother wasn't in the room, fussing over him and smoothing his blankets.
"Where's Mum?"
It was then that Fred noticed the redness in George's eyes and the somberness in his face.
"Fred…"
"Where's Mum!"
Fred could see George taking a deep breath and Fred hoped that those traitorous words wouldn't come out of his brother's mouth. His mom couldn't be…
"Mom's busy, Fred."
He sighed.
"Doing what?"
George gulped. Fred watched his brother's eyes fill with tears.
"Planning a funeral."
"Whose funeral?"
He didn't want to know the answer.
"Percy's."
The week after Fred was discharged from the Healers' care was filled with funerals. Nymphadora Tonks was only five years older than Fred, yet she was already a widow left alone with her son. And Percy was no better. He had graduated not even four years ago; he'd had his whole life in front of him. They'd gathered at the graveyard in Ottery St. Catchpole where generations of Weasleys had been laid to rest. It wasn't Percy's time to rest. His brother had never deserved this, had never deserved to be lying there so cold. He had been a prat more than once, but he had always been on their side. He'd fought with them in the final battle, though no one would have blamed him had he not.
His girlfriend had shown up at the funeral. They had assumed she was muggle and Molly Weasley hadn't bothered to send her the news. However, she was a muggle-born that had been lost in the crowds of Hogwarts. She had only escaped the purge because of Percy. She stood there sobbing alone and Fred felt the guilt crash into him.
He should have died instead of Percy. It should have been his funeral instead; he should be the one cold in a coffin and lowered into the ground. It had taken time, but he remembered the final battle. He had joked around, and then the wall had exploded. The last thing he remembered was Percy pushing him out of the way. If only Percy hadn't, Fred would have died, but his brother would still be there. He was the one who had been blasted by the wall, while Percy had only been grazed. Percy had been ready to start a family, while Fred wasn't even sure which girl he liked. As the coffin was lowered into the ground, Fred went over to Audrey and put a hand on her shoulder. Together they sobbed- for lost family, for lost hope, for lost opportunity.
It had taken until August to reopen their shop. Three long months had passed of rebuilding and mourning. Their shop had been vandalized while they were in hiding and that had taken a while to clear up. On top of that, they'd helped with the Hogwarts clean up. By the time they'd helped with that, Fred and George only had a short time to build up product stock and hire helpers. Verity had returned, but they had hired one more to help out with their wider range of products. They had the typical joke products, but that wasn't the only thing they kept in stock. Despite the war ending, many people still didn't feel safe. They'd kept their stock in shielding hats and disappearing cloak, in silent sneakers and Muffliato mouthpieces. Still, they had room for a bit more.
It was just past dusk one night when someone knocked on the shop's door. George had left early for his date with Angelina, but Fred had stayed behind to get some work done and to try to figure out what to do with all the empty space. He looked up, trying to see if it was George coming back because he'd forgotten something. He could see a figure through the glass, but he couldn't tell who it was. He gripped his wand tightly and opened the door.
"Fred?"
Fred recognized the girl standing on the stoop to their shop.
"Audrey?" he asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"
She held up that day's Daily Prophet.
"There was an ad in the back saying you guys were hiring. I came to apply."
"But," Fred started, as Audrey brushed past him and walked into the shop.
"Look, I can't find a job anywhere. I'm really hoping that you guys will hire me."
"Merlin, this is all my fault," Fred yelled.
"What?" Audrey said, startled.
"If only I had died instead of Percy, you wouldn't have to worry about that."
"Fred…"
"He would have taken care of you…"
"Fred…"
"You wouldn't be wandering the streets if he was still here!"
"FRED!"
Audrey eyed his as he cut off his rant, flushed.
"Fred, Percy was a great men. He loved me. But I doubt I would have a job even if he was around."
"But…"
"But nothing. In case you haven't noticed, there are still prejudices against muggle-born; it will take a while for them to fade. Percy might have been able to find me a position as a secretary, but I wouldn't have taken it. I earned seven NEWTs and nine OWLs, all Exceeds Expectations or better. I was a Ravenclaw Prefect from fifth year on. By any account, I should have my pick of jobs. However, a lot of them are still closed off to me."
She eyed him speculatively.
"That's why I'm here. I think I can help you with ideas for the store, and I can stock the shop and help with customers. Percy would have loved to see your shop grow."
Fred frowned.
"Percy hated us pranking people."
"No, he hated you guys pranking him, and by extension, the rest of the family. He was the target of quite a few of your pranks," She looked at Fred meaningfully. "He didn't care when they were in fun or when the person deserved it, as long as it didn't disturb his studying."
Fred's eyes widened.
"You're hired!" he hollered, streaking to the work room in the back of the shop. Audrey chased after him. They didn't come out all weekend, except for food and sleep.
The day the shop reopened, everything was ready. They had their normal pranks in stock and some of the more serious items throughout the shop, but the real surprise was the end cap at the front of the shop, full of "Percy's Finest". They had magical earplugs in the center, designed to block out all chatter but that from the teacher. To the side were quick notes for the OWLs and NEWTs. There was erasable ink, designed for revisions. Fred and Audrey had even designed a Studying Salve, guaranteed to give you uninterrupted hours of focused studying, a Distraction Detox, certain to drown out every distraction, a Teaching Tissane, which helped the drinker learn important lessons, and their finest product, a Remove-All. It was guaranteed to remove even the best of pranks, as long as the pranks were against the owner.
As Fred, George, Verity, and Audrey closed down shop that day and prepared to make more stock, Fred smiled. He felt like he was finally doing something Percy would be proud of.
Christmas was particularly difficult this year. Mum had insisted that everyone come home for the Hollidays that year. Fred knew that Charlie had a difficult time making it back with work, but they were all crowded in one house again. Fleur, Hermione, and Harry had joined them as well, and the house was bustling and warm. Mum had made cookies and the Christmas tree was decorated with flittering lights and ornaments. It wasn't the first Christmas that Percy hasn't been with them, but it was just as noticeable as the past three before. Only now, he would never have a Christmas with them again. Christmas Eve finally arrived with a blizzard, leaving them all stuck in the Burrow. That didn't deter Molly from cooking her finest. But for once, the food wasn't able to fill the emptiness.
Fred was sitting alone in front of the fire when the stairs creaked. The clock read a quarter after two and Fred was sure that no normal person would be up. It was only a few minutes later when George sat down next to Fred.
"Everything ok?"
"No," Fred grumbled.
His twin quirked up an eyebrow and Fred sighed.
"I hate myself for enjoying Christmas without him. I'm angry at myself everyday for going about life when he no longer can. I just don't know what to do anymore, George."
He looked back into his own face, mirrored in his brother's, before looking back in the dancing flames. They sat there quietly for a minute.
"Fred," George said seriously. "Are you sure that you're really angry with yourself, or are you just hurting so badly that you can't rip off the bandaid? Timid pain never benefitted anyone, and the sooner you tear the bandaid off, the less it will fester and the faster it will heal."
He looked at his brother for a long moment. Fred felt like he could bawl for days, but he hadn't done that since he was six.
"You know, you keep going on about how you should have been the one to die," George remarked lightly. "Did you ever wonder how I would have handled losing my twin or stop to think that maybe I want you here? Just food for thought."
With that, he stood up and walked back upstairs. It would be another hour before Fred made it back up, but he had finally cried himself out.
As the months passed, Fred began to heal. It wasn't easy; he hd plenty of bad days. George and Audrey both helped him, but there was quite a bit that no one could do for him; Fred had to do it himself. April Fools day rolled around. It was one of the busiest days the shop had every year and ironically, it was his and George's birthday. They had been invited over to the Burrow for their birthday dinner.
They were halfway through dinner when the familiar argument came up.
"When are you two planning to find real jobs," their mother asked.
Fred made the mistake of putting his head on the chopping block.
"Mum, this is our real job. We aren't giving up the joke shop."
From there, the argument descended into familiar territory. It hadn't changed since they had started the joke shop four years ago. At 21 years old, he'd hoped that his mother would stop arguing about his choice of career. However, it soon became evident that she wasn't quitting, but only bringing out the bigger wands.
"Why couldn't you be more like Percy? Why did he have to die instead? He was so successful," she wailed. "He had twelve OWLs and NEWTs all by himself, and I'm left with the son that could barely get a handful with his brother. What parent wants that?"
"Mum," he started, hurt. It wasn't exactly true. They'd only had six OWLs together, but they'd had to take their NEWTs to officially sell their products. He and George had both earned their NEWTs in Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, Charms, Defense, and Care of Magical Creatures out of necessity. They hadn't failed any others, either. In fact, he and George had recently studied to take their Muggle Studies and Arithmancy NEWTs just to increase the types of products they could sell. They were successful in their own way.
"Don't argue with me," Molly snapped. "I simply don't care anymore,"she added softly before storming away from the table.
Fred kept waiting for a belated cry of "April Fools!", but it never came.
He quietly stood up. "I'm not hungry anymore," he said, heading for the back porch.
It was later that night that Arthur found his son alone in the dark.
"Fred, may I talk to you, please?"
His son looked up at him mournfully; even the shadows didn't hide his red-rimmed eyes.
"I never knew," Fred whispered.
"I didn't either, son," his father whispered softly. "She did a good job of hiding it from all of us, but we would have disagreed with his over it."
"She's my mum, how can she hate me?"
"I don't think she does. She's just hurting over losing the son she was closest to. You were the easiest for her to take it out on. It doesn't make that right, though."
Fred looked off in the shadows and didn't respond.
"Look, son, the Ministry is setting up a memorial for everyone who has fallen during the war. It's scheduled for May 2nd. Each person who we lost is supposed to have a family member stand in for them during the proceedings."
Fred looked back at his father.
"So you'll do it, or Bill can."
"No, son. I need to be the wall for your mother and sister and Bill and Fleur will be expecting their first child that week. Charlie may not be able to get back from Romania. Either way, I believe you would be the best person for it and our family would be honored to have you up there representing us."
Fred looked up at his father and knew that his father would be proud, and that he would be proud of himself. It would be right for Percy, above all, and that was what mattered. He looked evenly at his father.
"I'll do it."
They came together a year from the moment the battle had started. Nearly everyone had lost someone- a sibling, a friend, a lover. Individuals from both sides had turned out to mourn the loss.
But that wasn't the only loss. Hogwarts had given much of herself to the battle as well. Although the castle had been repaired, it hadn't been returned to its former glory. The stones in the castle had absorbed the latent magic year after year and had woven it into its very core. In some places, the tendrils of magic had been shattered in such a way that it couldn't be put back together. It was broken. And on that day, families came together to build something beautiful with the broken pieces left behind.
On each piece of masonry was a name- the name of a fallen loved one. Fred held his out. He had carved Percy's name in himself, modeled after the plaque Percy had had hanging on his door for longer than he could remember. He placed his in the growing wall of names that were interwoven and cemented together.
It wasn't the first time he'd wondered how life would be different if he'd died instead of Percy, if this very piece of stone had killed him instead. However, he hadn't wished it upon himself in quite some time. He pressed the stone into place and vowed to live his life for his brother- the brother who'd resigned from his job and joked around in his last moments. Percy had done it all for his family, to show them who he really was. In the process, he'd given Fred the keys to who he could become.
Fred pressed the stone down to set it and watched countless others lay theirs in place. From the pieces of a broken castle and broken lives, the monument and moment were becoming whole. Eventually, the wizarding world would follow, and Fred could only hope that his family would as well.
Entered for the Big/Lil sister competition. I wrote as the Lil Sister, with Always Padfoot as my Big. The guidelines were: You must use at least three of the following prompts in your story. ** Prompts-Character: Fred Weasley. Word: cold. Quote: "Do you think anger is a sincere emotion or the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?" -Andrea Gibson. Color: red. Item: package.
