welcome home
Disclaimer:Harry Potter and all associated characters, places, and terms are property of J.K. Rowling.
It is 3 o'clock in the morning and all is silent inside the Burrow. The family clock rests in the kitchen—all hands pointing towards 'Home,' save two. A young man sits at the counter; head slumped on the table, snoring quietly. Dusty glass bottles stand in front of him, lined up like soldiers on the frontline. Several are knocked over, laying haphazardly in the cold moonlight.
The old floorboard beside Ginny's room creaks slightly and George wakes with a start, resolutely shutting his eyes again as soft footsteps gingerly sound across the landing. He assumes they are his mother's, checking up on the family while they sleep. She does that often now.
The footsteps grow nearer now, padding gently towards the kitchen counter. George wills himself to maintain his steady breathing and waits for the bottles in front of him to disappear with a silent 'Evanesco', like usual. He hears them being shoved roughly aside instead and finally looks up as the stool next to his is occupied by a tall figure with flaming red hair.
"Go away, Ron," he mumbles.
"I'm not Ron," says the other, and George scowls.
"Sod off, Perce."
His older brother ignores the demand and pulls several of the bottles towards him again. For one crazy moment, it seems as if he'll methodically organize them and it's so Percy that George has to stop himself from laughing out loud.
"Quiet!" Percy hisses, "You'll wake Mum!"
George covers his mouth with his hands and Percy continues his inspection of the bottles. Raising one up to his face, he shakes it a bit before grinning crookedly.
"Eureka!"
A look of understanding dawns on George's face and before he could protest, Percy uncorks the bottle and chugs down the alcohol.
"That was mine!" George exclaims in a hushed whisper and he looks so endearingly indignant that Percy can't help but laugh.
"Quiet!" George whispers, eyes shining with mirth, "You'll wake Mum!"
They both laugh at how ridiculous the situation is (when was the last time Fred and George actually laughed with Percy, and not at him?) and George turns to his left to grin at his twin—only to sober up immediately when his eyes meet empty air.
He stands up abruptly, knocking Percy's bottle of beer to the floor as the effects of his late night drinking finally catches up with him.
"George?" Percy asks and George firmly ignores the look of hurt of confusion on his brother's face.
They hear footsteps upstairs—"Fred?" Molly yells, as she sits up in bed—and Percy's eyes widen with understanding.
"George," he says softly, but George interrupts, muttering "Go back to bed, Perce," before turning around to leave the kitchen.
Percy frowns before pulling out his wand and clearing away the dusty bottles on the kitchen counter with a silent 'Evanesco'. He turns around just in time to see his mother on the landing.
"George?" she asks confusedly, "Percy? What—"
"It's fine, Mum," Percy interrupts her, "George and I were just having a drink. We'll be going back to bed now. Come on, George."
He walks towards George and slings an arm around his brother's shoulder, steering him up the stairs. George doesn't even protest, opting to stare resolutely at his sock-clad feet instead.
Molly stares at her sons, concern evident on her weary face, and Percy smiles at her as he passes by with George.
"Love you, Mum," Percy says and George looks up from his feet.
"Yeah…you're the best, Mum," he mumbles quietly, and Percy grins at his little brother, ruffling his hair as he does so.
They go back to their respective rooms and Molly smiles fondly. As she moves forward to return to hers and Arthur's bedroom, the two hands on the family clock move forward as well to rest on 'Home'.
A/N: I am unashamed to say that Percy is my favorite Weasley—I can relate to him the most out of all of Rowling's characters. Also, I like to think that he and George grew closer after the War. Yeah. I hope you enjoyed the story! Reviews are appreciated, though not absolutely necessary.