Percy jolted upward with a yell, tears streaming in his eyes. There was a slight tremor in his body, and a line of sweat rolling down his spine. He was, for a brief moment, pleased that he had put up a silencing spell, although that brief moment was over as quickly as it began in his grief. During the two hours of sleep he had managed, Fred's laughter had haunted his mind. The eyes of Pius Thicknesse and Rufus Scrimgeour had mocked him mercilessly, and he watched as they laughed, and his memory of Fred's death repeated itself over and over again.

He moaned, the sound muffled by his pillow. As he blindly grasped for his glasses, his lungs began to fill with air. Putting the glasses on, he glanced at the clock. 4:27. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and placed his elbows on his knees. Today. It's today. The grief returned, only to be stopped by a creaking noise outside of his door.

Percy threw a robe on and grabbed his wand. He crept down the stairs, fear tearing at his senses.

"Hello?" He cautiously said, peering around the landing. Glancing at the kitchen, he nearly jumped at the sight of George.

"What happened, where were you?"

George shook his head, refusing to speak. Percy stood for a second, then began to bustle about, making tea. As he finished pouring it, he carefully placed a cup in front of George, and sat across from him. The silence grew thick.

Minutes passed Clearing his throat, Percy said, "I best go back upstairs then."

His chair scraped the floor loudly as he pushed himself back. Carefully placing his cup in a sink, he heard aver y quiet sound behind him.

"Sorry?"

"Stay."

Percy sat down again, a determined look on his face.

They sat like that for what seemed an eternity, until Molly came downstairs. Without saying a word, she began to make breakfast. As the kitchen became more crowded, the silence stayed.

The silence wasn't filled with tension, and it wasn't forced. It was almost companionable, understanding. Their family was torn and scarred, but not ready to give up.

The mass of black was quite large; Percy didn't even know there were this many people left in the British wizarding community. George acknowledged each and every person though, even if he merely nodded, and had yet to speak since he had asked Percy to stay with him that morning.

The wizard who was leading the funeral was very squat, and had a high pitched voice that set every nerve in his body on fire. Percy focused on it, as it was the only thing that kept his mind from going spare with grief. As the man finished, Harry walked up to the front, clutching Ginny's hand. Ron and Hermione had closely followed, but seemed disinclined to stand before everyone.

Harry took a shuddering breath and look up. His face was streaked with tears, and his voice cracked as he began,

"F-Fred Weasley was one of the greatest people I knew. He and his brother were one of the sole reasons I even made it through the war."

Percy's eyes widened with shock. What?

"This war didn't start in my 5th year. It started the moment I stepped into Hogwarts; a war I wasn't even aware of. You – you see, Voldemort was always present- present in those he had left behind, those who believed in him. This caused a lot of tension, and quite a few events that left people wondering if I had gone mad."

The crowd was filled with quiet talking as he said it. But Percy remembered- when the students had ostracized Harry more than a handful of times. Harry had taken on a look of steely determination, his voice becoming stronger and his eyes meeting the crowds'.

"Fred was one of the few who never lost faith in me. He was always able to stay optimistic, until the very end. No matter what had happened, or what others said about me, he never cared and always stood up for me. But that wasn't the only thing he did. Throughout the darkest times, even when it put him in danger, Fred was optimistic for all of us. His shop, and the radio station he was a part of! Those things were one of the few things that held us together! Even though it made him a bigger target, even though he had little to gain, Fred was always selfless."

The crowd was now eerily silent. Even the tears were silent, falling and falling. Percy felt as though he hadn't taken a breath in ages, his chest was so tight.

"We can't be sad though. Fred would have hated that. He was always creating smiles and joy, and wouldn't want us to waste away. So we will remember those good times- all the jokes, the support and the love he had for others- it will be what holds us all together. As a great wizard once said, "Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the lights." Fred isn't able to turn on the lights anymore. It's our turn."

Tears were streaming down his face, as Ginny led him and the others to the casket for their final goodbyes. As Percy finally reached it, his insides seemed to crumble.

This was all his fault. His fault. His fault. His fault Fred was dead. His fault everyone was in pain. His. Fault.

Time faded away, until a small hand woke Percy from the blinding grief that had enveloped him. His mum led him away, along with the rest of the Weasley brood. It wasn't until they were all crammed into the kitchen (How did they get there again?) that he noticed George was gone.

Ron's voice asked exactly that, and everyone seemed to snap to life. Bill and Charlie had gone to check Diagon Alley, while his parents checked the gravesite. Harry was checking Hogwarts and Hogsmeade with Ginny, and Ron insisted on looking at the hospital. Percy had been asked to stay, as though they were afraid that when he left he wouldn't come back. He had wandered into the den, mind miles away as he stared into the fire.

George was gone. Fred was gone. Would anything be the same again? It WAS HIS FAULT.

A single tear made a track down his face. It was rather a good thing he was alone- as the look on his face would have made even the most hardened and weathered men cry as well. Percy could only wonder, only think-

What now?