there is the last chapter. following this is just a short epilogue.
Dead to Me
Chapter Seventeen: You Want Me To Do What?
"Of course, after my body decomposed, as you're all aware…" Percy gestured towards a shell-shocked, pale George, who was sure that he was going to pass up, throw up or just kneel over and die if Percy continued to talk. He could barely process anything Percy even said anymore. Merlin, would he just stop talking? Could he be any more depressing? George's heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on. Did they seriously just let him die like that? Like he was a literal piece of rubbish? "I tore out all the calendars in my house and well… not to sound mental, but I set them on fire. Well, I didn't exactly see the point of being very time oriented. George, you were already aware of the fact that I am not particularly good at judging time since when you've met me, I hadn't known it had been that long. Eight years that is." He cleared his throat. "I know that it sounds rather cruel and selfish just to surrender to death as I have, but I'm not sure I couldn't have survived in such a state for much longer without any assistance...it has been a rather long time. And I was…I was very tired." He even sounded tired. How could a ghost be tired?
Percy was really looking to comfort them with his story telling! George felt better now about coming together and talking about this… honestly, George couldn't believe Percy just said that he didn't regret giving up his will to live because he couldn't wait eight years for his family to notice that he'd disappeared off the face of the Earth! But that wasn't his fault. Before this happened, George hadn't thought about Percy in years. How was that normal? Not to think at all about someone you called family. If George hadn't bought this house, how long would they go on not knowing? It was sickening to even think about! How could someone he grew up with die like this? Even as Percy was dying, he didn't believe that his death would really be like this! And who would? Percy was right. Who fucking died a cold, miserable death like this? How could they not know? How could they leave him to suffer like this?
Percy flushed. Well, not flushed per say, but he did look less pale and translucent. "Well, that's just about it," he smiled weakly. "That's the whole—oh…one more piece of information." George's eyes widened. Blimey, there was more?
He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Audrey did… somehow find out about my unfortunate demise a few years after. It was after Penelope had…" his voice trailed off. "She killed herself," there was a crack in Percy's voice. "Well, um…Penny was admitted under Audrey and Greenford's care. Audrey tried to contact me after Penny had died, you know, because of Molly and discovered—well, she discovered that I've passed away as well. I'm not sure what's really gone on but I know Audrey adopted Molly after that. I believe she has another daughter named Lucy, but I'm unsure. I like to think that she does. It would be nice if Molly grew up with a sibling. And well, Audrey still visits me sometimes. Usually in the summer, with flowers for-for the house as I've said. Well, not that she's ever seen me but I'm sure she knows that I'm generally… present?" he smiled again.
Merlin. George found himself letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
Percy then nodded his head energetically. "So yes," he paused awkwardly. "That, in fact, is the whole story…I believe."
Silence encompassed the room. Percy looked uncomfortable, sat there waiting for people to tell him something.
But what did you say to that exactly? George was honestly speechless. Oh, that was a shame that you died in such a horrible manner, but if you'd just not been a git, then maybe we would've read that owl?
George hated himself for what he'd done. What they collectively did. It was hard to process even days after. Because if they'd just given him the bloody time of day, he'd still be alive. And if he'd been alive, then maybe Percy really would've gotten better. Maybe he'd be the one that was walking his little girl to muggle school, watching her to science experiments with rubber ducks and airplanes. Maybe he would be here to sign his own bloody books and gloat about being famous. Maybe he'd be a normal person again. Maybe he wouldn't have felt like he'd been rejected by the world ever since he'd been born. Maybe he would've been happy. But they took that possibility away from him. And it was a shame, a real shame that not only he'd passed away, but the way that he did left George wishing that he could take back every decision he'd made in the past ten years. Because George knew Percy was afraid of dying alone. Everyone knew that he was afraid of being alone forever. They used to tell him that he was going to die all by himself just to rile him up. If they'd known how true it would've been, George never would've said it.
It was so bloody hard to know how desperate he was for someone to be there with him. He had nobody there to hold his hand as he'd died. Nobody to tell him that it was going to be fine. Nobody to bury him. He had to watch his own self rot in his house. How could he regret giving up when everyone else had given up on him? George bit down his lower lip, his vision blurring with tears. What was the point of crying anyway? Even if Percy hadn't given up, he would've still died. Even if he drank his weight in water and ate as much as Hermes could get him, George doubted he could've lived all by himself in a cramped, decaying vacuum for eight years just waiting for people to spare him a thought? To wonder if maybe he was still alive?
George glanced across the room and met Fred's eyes. Fred looked more corpse-like than ever.
Do you know what to do? George mouthed to him, but Fred looked at George like he was either joking or mental.
He didn't want to, but he found his eyes drifting towards everyone else in the room. Molly's face was tear-stained, but she'd already cried, broke down and sobbed her way through the story. Now, she was just quiet and disheartened as she stared at Percy. Beside her, Arthur was still whimpering and rubbing away his tears. Next to him, Ron's shoulders shook and he refused to meet eyes with anyone in the room. A solemn Hermione had her hand on his knee and was whispering sweet things into his ear. Besides Hermione, Ginny's hair was a colossal mess, and her nose was red and stuffy. Harry was rubbing her back, but even he looked disturbed. In the corner all by himself, Bill looked like he wanted to tear out his hair as he grumbled to himself, rocking back and forth. Sat beside him was Charlie, who looked furious with himself. He'd bit down his lip hard enough to bleed and was scratching his wrist rather aggressively. George felt furious too, but he was also really tired. Beside him, he looked down and noticed Angelina had been holding his hand. How long had she been holding his hand for?
"Thank you," he whispered to her, and she just leaned to kiss his cheek. He shuddered under her touch.
George couldn't take it anymore. This was the saddest sight he'd ever seen, and George could do fuck all to help anyone of them. What were they going to do now?
Fred locked eyes with Percy, and they stared at each other for some time. Percy looked so sad.
"Isn't…anyone going to say anything?" Percy asked, his hands shaking. Merlin, as if it weren't bad enough that Percy had to retell how he'd died in such a horrible manner, but they couldn't even comfort him now!
George opened his mouth to speak, but the words were stuck in his throat. He was ashamed of himself. Percy turned to the rest of his family. Everyone stayed quiet. George was trying to scramble through his mind for something to tell him but couldn't think of a single thing to say. He watched Percy's face change: from disbelief to fury to confusion to pain. Each emotion made George's heart beat ten times faster. And Percy looked like he wanted to lash out but was holding himself. Why was he holding himself? George couldn't help but wonder. They deserved to hear every horrible thought Percy had ever had about them, over and over again until they realised that for war heroes, they'd really wronged him. They hurt him. They killed him.
"Percy, come here," Arthur gestured towards the spot next to him.
Percy floated to Arthur. He sat down but was still hovering a few inches off the ground. George smiled over at him from afar, his heart thudding quicker by the second. Arthur snaked a hand around Percy and pulled him into his chest. "Listen to me," Arthur's voice was so warm and firm that it even calmed George down. "You know that we care about what happened to you, don't you? You know that we love you? That you're still part of this family despite anything that had ever happened? You do know that, don't you?" when Percy had no answer, Arthur just rubbed his shoulder. "I don't think there's anyone here that would say that they wouldn't spend the rest of their lives wishing that things had gone differently. Already I wish I could take back what I said...what I did to you." George stared at Percy. He had to know that, but he acted like he didn't believe that. "You do know that, don't you...? Don't you?"
"Well, I…" Percy stammered. He just stared at George in disbelief. Merlin! He didn't know. George didn't even think about telling him that because he was so sure that Percy had to know that they all hated themselves for that.
"Come on, Perce," George felt so broken. "You have to know that we would've come if we knew."
Percy's eyes were watery. "Really?" he sounded like a first year being told that the stairs at Hogwarts were dangerous.
Bill looked shattered. George doubted there was anyone in the room that believed that Percy thought so lowly of himself. "You have to know that, Perce. Deep down, you have to know that we would've come if we'd bothered to read that letter. Dad is right, we'll bloody hate ourselves for the rest of our lives for not reading the stupid bloody letter…but if we had read it, we would've helped you." He saw Percy shake his head. George was stunned. He really didn't believe anyone would've come for him. He really believed that they would've let him die like that even if they'd read it. "Perce, you were sick for years. But you didn't tell us."
Percy cleared his throat. "No," he replied brokenly.
"You didn't think we would've helped you, did you? You think that we would've laughed at you." Even as Bill said it, he sounded a little disturbed. Merlin, there was nothing funny about him disintegrating just thinking about opening the blinds. "That's what happened, didn't it? And now, you're dead because you wouldn't tell us until…" he stammered.
Percy refused to look at Bill. "Yes, I did," his voice was barely audible. "I thought that…I thought…" he trailed off.
"Thought what?" Charlie joined in on the conversation. "Perce, you're our brother. How could you think like this?"
He looked ashamed, then he just balled his hands into fists. "You've laughed and challenged everything else I've ever done! Why would I believe that you wouldn't mock me for this too?" he replied back coldly, and George would admit that they deserved that. And this conversation was going so well before that. "And isn't it you that had written me off for the past ten years? Why do you find it surprising that I don't know how you feel about me? How dare you claim to even like me! Do you know how long I hoped someone would come and help me? Do you know how long I've waited for you to bury my body?" his voice cracked at the end, and George shuddered. "I just…I…" he stammered, his eyes puffy and red.
"I'm sorry," hearing Percy apologise was even worse than hearing him snap at them for leaving him alone.
"Look, Perce, I—" Bill was cut off by a furious George. How dare he get Percy to apologise to him? Arsehole!
"Just leave him alone," George found himself saying. "Stop interrogating him!"
Bill flushed deeply. "He needs to know that—"
"That what? You would've helped heal him, no question asked?" George asked him hotly. "Because you've welcomed him with open bloody arms when the fight happened? Do you honestly believe that? Because Percy doesn't. And I don't," his lip was shaking. "Perce, look, maybe we never got along, and we've mucked up things so much between us, but…but we didn't want you to die, okay?" He seemed to accept this a little more. "We love you."
"Love me?" Percy echoed incredulously. He might as well have scoffed. He didn't believe that either.
"Yes, we do," Arthur sounded like he was on the verge of tears. George couldn't fathom how it must feel like having to tell your own child that you loved them and them genuinely not believing it. It was even worse remembering that Percy had died feeling that nobody in the world cared for him. "You're my son. You have to know."
Percy smiled weakly at his father, but he had no light in his eyes. He looked so hopeless.
Everything felt so tense and George could barely breathe. He wanted to know what would make them move forward from this. It felt like they were at an impasse. Percy floated in his house, a ghost that had lived alone for the last eight years, and here they were, telling him that he didn't die for nothing and it all just felt so worthless. No matter what they said, it didn't just magically correct the last few years that he'd spent in this house all alone.
"Do you even like being here?" George asked, snapping Percy out of his thoughts. "Do you want to stay here?"
Percy didn't say anything for the first few minutes, then he shook his head. This house terrifies me. The way I died scared me, he admitted. Seeing how I looked like after I died, George... it disgusted me. I looked like a monster.
George shuddered as he imagined Percy having to come face to face with his own skeleton. His corpse had literally decomposed in this house and they had the gall to tell him that they loved him, and expect him to accept it? It wasn't fair.
George then cleared his throat. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" he asked slowly.
Percy didn't meet George's face. And where, exactly, do you propose to take me? He doubted Percy was jumping for joy at the thought of returning back to the Burrow or his old flat. He doubted that he wanted to leave the house and see a world that had moved on without him. He doubted he wanted to go to Hogwarts again, where he'd worked himself to the bone to end up dying alone in his house. In fact, George couldn't think of a single place Percy might actually want to go to.
Maybe you can replace Binns in Hogwarts, George thought. Percy smiled a little.
"Where… where do you want to go?" George asked softly.
Percy looked a little overwhelmed at the question.
"Percy?" George's voice was even softer now. "You don't have to…you…um—"
I want to go away, Percy's response made George shudder. I don't want to exist at all anymore. He paused and looked at George seriously, his eyes hardened. What's there for someone like me, George? Everything is gone. Everything. He supposed he didn't really know what ghosts did, they were just around. Fred would probably be causing so much mischief at Hogwarts. He couldn't imagine Percy doing much else rather than tell students that they shouldn't be out past curfew. But Percy looked weary and tired.
"You can't mean that," George said aloud, not caring at all that it was rude to have this obvious one-sided conversation with Percy that nobody else could hear. Fred was even giving him a look. "Percy."
If I asked you to, would you… Percy looked at him, pleadingly. Would you burn this house down? For me? So I can finally just...just go?
George's heart was hammering in his chest. He didn't know where Percy would go without this house. He was afraid of sunlight for Merlin's sake. He hadn't seen it in a decade. He didn't have a coffin. He didn't have anything. "Percy, I…" he felt so overwhelmed. Percy was staring at him with those gigantic eyes, practically begging. "Please don't ask me that."
But this is what I want! I don't want this! Don't you understand? Percy replied. He looked angry. But with that anger was this absolute, unadulterated terror that made George feel so weak. I won't…I'm not just here just to make you lessen YOUR guilt. It was a harsh thing to say, but George knew there was a ring of truth to it. I…I shouldn't be here at all, George. I died eight years ago. I have no purpose in this world.
Why was he here? George wanted to ask but he didn't know if Percy knew the answer to that. Not that George really cared anyway. He didn't want to know anything anymore.
"I...I can't, Perce," George confessed, strands of dull red hair falling in front of his sincere chocolate-brown eyes. "I'm sorry."
You're sorry? You're SORRY? Percy shook his head in disbelief. This was a mistake; Percy's hands shook. There was no point in this. No point at all! What did you think was going to happen at the end of this? Did you think that we would all link hands and find eternal peace? Tears streamed down his face. It always surprised him to see him crying. Percy was a ghost. He didn't feel like it was natural for ghosts to cry. As he watched him shake and tremble in pain, George didn't know what to say that would convince him that things were going to be okay, because George wasn't sure if they were going to be. This isn't fair, George. I don't deserve to feel so miserable forever just because you don't want to see me go.
"Are you crying?" Fred looked a little surprised too. He obviously didn't know ghosts could cry either. "You can cry? We can cry?"
"Oh, Percy, love," Molly sounded heartbroken. "Please…please don't." She looked overwhelmed. "Tell me…tell me what we can do. What we can do for you, just…"
You can leave me alone. Percy thought. Forever. It's not like it matters anyway. He got up to his feet, clenched his hand into fists and then phased through the ceiling, disappearing out of sight in seconds.
George didn't know what to say. It felt like just a few days ago, he'd seen Percy floating in front of him for the first time. Now, he was asking him to burn this house down for him? George felt more lightheaded than the day where he'd fainted. He was so conflicted he couldn't really think straight. But a part of him already knew that he should do whatever Percy said. Whatever he wanted. He seemed so desperate, so sad… it was really the least that they could do for him.
But why did it have to be that? Why couldn't it have been something easier?
"What did you do?" Ron broke the silence, staring at him angrily.
"Nothing," George honestly replied, shaking his head. "I just…I don't think he wanted Bill to tell him off for not involving us when he started to get ill," he shot Bill a look.
"I wasn't…" Bill looked horrified. "He thought I was telling him off?"
"What did you call that then? You were practically blaming him for letting himself be so bloody alone," George replied lowly. "Merlin, do you understand how hard this is for him? He lived alone in this house for a decade. He died alone in this really horrible way that I wouldn't wish on the Death Eater that killed Fred. Of course, he doesn't believe that anyone loves him! Of course, he thinks that you're outright lying to him. How could he believe it when we just left him here to rot for years? Before I told him, he hadn't known that we'd torn his hand out of the Weasley family clock or that we threw his letter into the fire! He lived for years thinking we knew and didn't bother coming. He didn't have anyone to tell him otherwise. What was he supposed to think? And…he really tried. He tried to think the best of us for years but…Merlin, it's been eight years! How long was he supposed to go on, telling himself that it was all a mistake?" George's voice cracked.
Bill winced. "Oh," he sounded dejected. "I didn't think…" he shook his head. "Merlin. That must've been hell."
"So, that's what you are now," Fred said from across the room. "The Git Whisperer."
"Don't call him that," George said a little stiffly. "Well…I am. I can hear what he thinks…if he wants me to. I think."
"Yeah, Freddie, looks like you've been replaced," Ron snorted. Fred shot him a glare, but the humour melted off Ron's face in seconds. He looked a little uncomfortable. "What…what were you two even talking about? He looked really upset."
George didn't meet Ron's eyes. "He doesn't like being here," he whispered. "The way he talked about this house, just before he'd died…it sounded like he really wanted to get away from here." He bit down his lower lip. "I don't really think he wants to be anywhere. I think he wants to…disappear. For good," that was a hard thing to say but Percy did sleep a lot for someone who was already dead. For someone who didn't need sleep. He lived the same day in and out for the past eight years. And the first time that he'd seen his family after his death didn't particularly go so well. George knew that he was a little too cold on him, especially at the start. He wished that he could take it all back. He wished that he knew what to say to make him feel like it wasn't all so bloody pointless.
Arthur looked completely downtrodden. "Can he?" he asked softly. "Can he…can he just…"
"I think so," George nodded his head. "He...he wants me to set his house on fire."
Charlie paled. "What would happen to him?" George just shrugged. "You're not going to do it, are you?"
"I don't know. I think I might," George confessed. Molly whimpered, and George found himself biting down his lower lip. "It's what he wants. It's the only thing we could do for him. He can't really do much, mum. He's just suffering living in the place that he was scared of dying in. It-it…" he stammered. "It's the only thing he's ever asked me to do." George didn't even know that he was thinking about doing it until he'd said it. But now that he did, his heart was pounding in his ears.
Was he really thinking of doing this? Was he really going to burn down Percy's rotting, moldy house?
"I…I know," Molly replied, which surprised him. George was surprised at how blasé she was being. "But not like this," she said firmly. "Not with him feeling so unhappy and spiteful. There's no way he can really rest if he…if he thinks that we…"
"I know, mum," George nodded his head, smiling weakly at her. "I won't let him think like that. I promise. He's going to know before he's really gone…he's going to know that we love him. I promise." Arthur looked stunned. He didn't look convinced. Nobody really looked convinced with what Percy wanted, but how dare they deny him this? George just wished it weren't something so hard for him to do. "This is what he wanted, dad. I…I don't know what to do. This is the only thing he asked me to d-do," he sobbed recklessly, his chest aching as he trembled.
"Hey, hey…" Arthur moved close to him and had his arms wrapped around him. "It's alright. It's alright," he tried to tell him. "We understand." It didn't sound like he really did. "You're right," he said. "He's going to know that we love him. We're going to make sure that he knows." George nodded his head, but he wasn't sure how he was supposed to show Percy how much they felt for him.
As George took a deep breath, he realised that he always knew deep down that they couldn't just stay visiting Percy in his rubbish bin house forever. There had to be something else. George always hoped deep down that the solution would be something different.
"Did you hear that, Perce?" George sounded out. "We're going to do it." He paused, waiting for Percy to appear. Was he going to come back? Or did he go a step too far? "We're going to burn your bloody house just like…" he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Just like you want." Every word he said hurt so much. "I promise."
Percy suddenly appeared from behind him, nearly making him wet himself. "Really?" he sounded shocked.
George nodded his head. "R… really," he stammered unhappily, but seeing the light in Percy's face made the pain in his chest go away.
Before George could process what was happening, Percy wrapped his arms around him and hugged him so tightly that George was finding it hard to breathe. George hugged him back, rubbing his cold back. He clung a little tighter and before George knew it, Percy was sobbing. The sound of Percy's sobs so close to him made George cling on even tighter. He could hear his heart racing in his chest. He couldn't believe that Percy was hugging him. Percy, who hated any sort of physical condition whatsoever, was clinging onto him like he was a lifeline (ha!).
"Perce," George thought that maybe this was his chance. "You… you k-know we love you, yes? We really love you?"
Percy's sobs got louder. "Yes," he said a little quietly, as if he didn't want to hear it himself. As if he was too scared to admit it to himself.
George just shook his head, "No, Percy," he was sure his heart was about to burst out of his chest. "We love you."
"I know," Percy's voice was louder. "I know." George felt a little more relaxed now. He was shuddering from how cold he felt, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything at all. "I promise."