The Patchwork Weasley

Chapter Two

This Is Not A Confrontation

Bill and Charlie were having a grand ole time back in the Burrow. With only a couple of hours differences between England, Romania and Egypt, nobody was portkey-lagged. The conversations they had between each other when they've arrived were light and cheery. The kitchen was more well-prepared than it had been the last time that Bill was there for the holidays, stuffed to the brim with more roast trimmings than a Witch Weekly Christmas catalogue…and it was just the beginning of the summer holidays!

"Charlie! Bill!" Ron and Ginny ran up to them almost immediately.

Ginny hugged them and Ron pretended that he was too manly for any affection.

"Looking good, Charlie!" Fred said from the doorway. "The tan looks great on you. Totally hides your pasty complexion."

"Aye, that's what working in the boiling heat would do for you," Charlie answered. Bill scoffed. With the sweltering heat in Egypt, all Bill had gotten was sunburned. He'd actually just been told to go home the last few hours of his job because he was an alarming shade of red. His mate, who was an Egyptian Curse Breaker, wouldn't stop taking the piss out of him for it.

"Bill wouldn't agree," George said when he got into the room, as if he could hear Bill's inner thoughts. "Nice hair, mate. Totally hides your lady flower."

"Haha," Bill rolled his eyes. "Well, I'd say that you have to worry a lot more about yourself, mate. With pants that tight, I'd assume whatever peanuts you've got have been crushed."

George went red as Fred collapsed into laughter.

"Oh, you two look so tanned!" their mum walked into the kitchen. She had one looked at Charlie, who looked baked and winced. "Oh, love, you haven't been putting on sun cream, have you?"

Bill was in a new pair of ripped faded jeans, a white t-shirt and a dragonhide jacket, much to Charlie's displeasure. His hair was longer, falling past his shoulders and he'd managed to get another silver-studded ear piercing to go in with his black one. He found it odd that his mum hadn't chastised him for ruining his image even more. Come to think of that, Molly did look a little bit pale, shook and withdrawn. As if something was on her mind.

Meanwhile, his younger brother, Charlie, was more tanned and more muscular than ever and had more dragon burns on his forearms than he had last year. He was in a weather-beaten jacket, looking absolutely exhausted. Probably been up half the morning no doubt, working before his departure. No matter how often they talked, Bill still thought that Charlie was bloody mental for deciding to abandon his Quidditch dreams to chase a couple of fire-breathing beings in a fuck-all dragon reserve that had more reports of missing dragon tamers than they had ones they could account for.

At dinner, the wine was flowing (for the adults, of course) and there were potatoes done in more ways than Bill even knew was possible. He loaded his plate with gammon, mashed potatoes, candied ham, Yorkshire puddings and a lonely carrot.

"How was your journey?" his mum asked, the first question she'd always asked him. Usually, after she made a tut-tut-tut comment about how he should really consider cutting his hair, or that she didn't think that his 'delicate', milky complexion would be able to handle the prolonged exposure to the hot Egyptian sun without combusting one day.

"It was alright, mum," Bill found it funny that she'd asked all these years, and his answer never changed. "Always has been, you know. No portkey-related emergencies thus far but I'll let you know if I ever get sucked into a black hole."

"Don't joke about that," Molly paled.

"It takes about a few seconds, not really much of a journey either," Charlie made a nonchalant gesture with his hands. You'd think someone the size of Charlie would eat more than a plate of gammon and vegetables, but you'd be sorely mistaken. Every year, Bill forgot about the fact that going out with Charlie was a snoozefest, with him drinking light beers. He was watching his delicate, fifteen-stone figure. "That's the great things about portkeys, you know. The hard part is getting the Ministry to grant you one but…you know how Ministries are like. Holidays or flight risk? You'd never know with the way they act when they ask for all that 'necessary documentation' rubbish…"

Bill snorted. "Most people can read what they need to bring to the Ministry the first time, you know." You'd think that Charlie would know considering how much time he spent going to and from Romania and England.

"I know, love," Molly smiled at him, like she hadn't heard that joke a million times as well. "And you know that scorched look don't help that image that you aren't an Azkaban escapee," she eyed him carefully.

Charlie just shrugged. "Nobody's ever been threatened by a piece of burnt toast."

"Charlie!" Molly didn't appreciate his dry sense of humour.

"You know, mum, speaking of all that… we got in a new thunder of wee dragons this month," Charlie finally decided to say. Bill sighed. He'd already heard this story on the way there. "Danish I think! Naughty little rascals. I reckon they'd give poor ole Claus a heart attack when I'm away. You know they've been running all over the place! Massive things!"

As Charlie was rattling off his thoughts on the world, Bill zoned out. In fact, he started to zone out after he heard Charlie mention things about how big they were (pretty much how he described every single bloody dragon that he'd ever come across) and all the fire-related emergencies that he'd managed to get into.

"Of course, there' s got to be some fire…"

Molly looked horror-struck. "Oh dear."

"…had a couple of scraps, nothing that a little burn ointment couldn't fix…"

"Charlie!"

"…the government! Think they'd give more regulations about that sort of thing…"

"Think you'd be going to the hospital if you're out there getting thrown around by a Norwegian Ridgeback on your regular working days!"

"Mum, you know what the lads would think about me if I go to the hospital for every little burn and scrap?"

"The lads! What do the lads care if your eyebrow gets singed for good?"

At some point, their mum sighed and leaned back as Charlie talked all about the death-defying situations he'd been in.

The twins were soaking it up like they were looking for inspiration for things to set on fire or blow up. Ron pretended not to be perturbed from some of the more graphic things that Charlie said, and Ginny was snickering every time Ron made a funny face. Meanwhile, their dad was absentminded. Same old, same old.

In fact, things were just peachy and keen, until Bill dared to open his mouth and ask, "Hey, where's Percy?"

"Percy?" Ron repeated, as if he'd never heard that name before.

"You know, tall, prissy, blind in one eye—literally," Charlie shrugged. Bill shuddered. "That Percy?"

The way the tension rose in the table, you'd have thought that Bill was asking about a serial killer on the run instead of his own flesh and blood. It was an innocuous enough question. "If he's sick, I can get him a plate," Bill decided to say.

"Unless he's comatose, mate, I think he can get his own plate," Charlie told Bill.

Bill rolled his eyes. "It's really no trouble, you know. I don't mind getting off my arse for someone else." He looked at the spread before him. "Reckon he'd want the gammon or ham?" Charlie might say that, but Percy was always an annoying little sibling to him. And he was to Charlie too, even if his younger brother wouldn't admit it. When Percy was brought home, Bill wasn't even interested in some stinky stupid baby that cried all the bloody time!

"Perce isn't sick," Fred mumbled. "He's just angry because he's been told he's adopted."

"Refuses to come downstairs no matter what we tell him," Ron added on.

Bill looked at them like they started speaking in Elvish. Percy? You know, their red-haired, freckled, blue-eyed brother? Wore glasses like their father? The only one to inherit the Prewett frizz? Shared that lean, wiry frame that his father, Ron and he himself had too? Had the same scowl and smouldering look as his mum?

"Well, tell him it's a joke!" Bill didn't seem to see what the big deal was.

Even Charlie started laughing because he thought it was a joke. "So what he's adopted? That's not the first time you've told him that he was related to Snape or the like," there was a bemused glint to his eye. "You two do this all the time, you know. I mean last Christmas, you told him to dislodge that stick out of his arse and look for an inscription to find out where his birth parents really are." He turned to Bill, "You remember that?"

Bill solemnly nodded his head. He did think it was a little over-the-top, considering it was a holiday, but the twins really were always like that. Sticking ornaments into his hair when he was sleeping and stuffing his stockings full of explosives. No wonder Percy dreaded Christmas, preferring most of the time to stay in his room and not be disturbed.

"We can't!" George argued. "Not this time, Percy is really—"

"Really what?" Bill echoed, raising an eyebrow at George.

"We didn't mean that," Fred finally said, his ears turning pink. That was when Bill started to feel a little weird.

"Didn't mean what?" even Charlie was starting to look at them strangely.

"And we didn't know," George replied flatly. "We were just having a laugh."

He looked at his parents, who were looking a little pale. That was strange too. What had gone on between these two and Percy that was so bad that even his parents wanted to distance themselves from it?

Charlie looked for answers too. "Mum, dad, what's—?"

His mum uncomfortably put the fork down and sighed. "Percy really is adopted."

"He's still your brother no matter what," Arthur swooped in. "Of course, he is, but your mum and I didn't have him."

Bill shook his head. He remembered his mum getting bigger around the time that she had Percy, eating loads and crying a lot. There were pregnancy tests all over the place! He even remembered his Aunt Muriel scoffing, talking about babies and the like. Couldn't remember much though. He was a wee lad himself. But he did vividly remember his mum bringing back home a bloody tiny pink thing that cried all the time.

"Mum, Percy can't be adopted," Bill told her, wondering if his parents were mentally ill for a second. "You know, the red hair, the freckles, blue eyes? Looks exactly like you when he's losing his temper?" Even Bill, who worked with probabilities all the time, thought that that was a stretch, a catch in the dark if there ever was one. "Think you need new glasses, dad."

Even Ginny, Ron and the twins were looking at each other like they believed Bill more than their parents.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Well…"

"You're taking the piss," Charlie very bluntly said. "There's no bloody way that Percy isn't one of us." Usually, his mum would've told him off for being so crass, but she just looked guiltier. Then he flicked his eyes to Fred and George, the other party that Bill was thinking about. "What did you lot do exactly? Practice your memory charms on mum and dad!?"

"We didn't do anything!" Fred and George yelled in unison, looking annoyed.

"Percy's already done that," Ginny explained meekly.

"Well, maybe he's not persuasive enough," Charlie said. "Haven't you gotten enough of a rise out of him?"

"I think mum and dad really mean it, mate," Bill nudged Charlie by the side. "I think Perce really is adopted."

Charlie looked like a first year about to be thrown off his broomstick during a Quidditch match. "How come Perce doesn't know that he's adopted?" he finally asked, rather loudly. "How come nobody knows?"

"Yeah," George straightened his back up. "Why didn't anyone say anything?"

Molly cleared her throat and Bill jerked his head up to look at her. His mum had changed in the past five minutes. She was this lovely little thing, harmless, just a few seconds ago, and now, he didn't know what to think of her. He barely recognised her, his own mum. "You have to understand that these are extenuating circumstances, love."

"Extenuating circumstances?" Bill echoed.

"Your mum always wanted to have a big family—we both did. Both came from big families ourselves," Arthur decided to say. Well, she'd certainly achieved that, didn't she? Lots of kids everywhere. They had to build extensions in the Burrow just to house them all. Bill kept his mouth shut, his jaw tightening just thinking about it. "She had a hard time getting pregnant after Charlie. We both thought that she wouldn't be able to—you know, we tried for years after we've had Charlie. I mean imagine, Charlie and Percy are years apart really. That's a long time for us to be trying."

Bill looked back at Charlie, who looked as white as a sheet. He probably didn't like his name being mentioned so much.

"Merlin," Charlie didn't look like he was coping well. Neither was Bill, or anyone else. "And what, you browsed around a couple of orphanages, found a red one and said that that's the one for you?" he acerbically asked.

"No, love," Molly looked uncomfortable. Good, she should be! "We didn't…"

"You didn't what?" Bill prompted.

"The lady that was showing us around the orphanage thought we might want one that looks similar to us," Arthur was stumbling over his words, his tone was so low that Bill had to strain to hear him, but he still made out every word. His father didn't obviously want to tell him anything about Percy's adoption process. "We weren't even going to adopt him." Then he must've realised what he'd said, and he was fumbling with his words, "But we couldn't just leave him there. He was in a bad shape."

Bill winced at the thought. He could just imagine Percy stood there, believing that he was his parents' act of charity. And he couldn't blame him. "And Percy knows that you didn't mean to adopt him? That it was an accident?"

"It wasn't an accident," Molly looked unsure what to do with everyone ganging up on her.

"No, Bill, doubt that mum and dad told him they were coerced into taking him," Charlie stiffly mentioned.

"We weren't coerced," Arthur fumed. But there was something in his defences that did tell Bill that they didn't take one look at him and scooped him into their loving arms. There were some parts of this story that their parents were ashamed of. "I love your brother like I love any one of you. When I brought him into this home, he had been—and is—my son."

Charlie looked moved by that. Bill was too, even if he did feel a little iffy about the whole thing.

"Alright, I guess," Charlie decided to say, nodding his head.

"Alright?" Ginny didn't seem to think it was alright. Nobody did.

"You're right," Charlie didn't really agree with it all. "We'll work through this. Get Perce downstairs, have him sit through his dinner with a scowl until he feels better about everything." He turned to Bill, who nodded to him. "You're right, you know? He is our little brother. Nothing's got to change about it just because you didn't have him."

Bill had a sinking feeling that things weren't what they seemed. "Yeah, I suppose."

Just as Charlie had left to go upstairs to get Percy, Bill looked at his parents in a new light.

"We should've told Charlie that Percy's mum is going to take him back," Ginny decided to mention.

"Yeah, he probably doesn't want to sit through another dinner if his days are numbered," Ron agreed.

"His days are not numbered," Molly kept a stern facial expression. "Your brother is still family no matter where he goes."

"Where he goes?" Bill thought that was laughable. "There's a woman that's going to be taking him?"

Fred nodded his head. "Yeah, Bill, that's why mum and dad even told him."

"Blimey," Bill didn't know what to think.

Bill thought that he couldn't be any more shocked, but he accidentally bit his fork when he heard that. He thought he might've shattered his tooth in the process. He snapped his head back at his younger siblings. They all knew about that!

"Percy's mum," Bill reiterated the words. He couldn't believe that Percy had another mum, that there was another woman out there that gave birth to his prissy younger brother with the carroty hair and permanent scowl. He'd never been close to Percy, but now knowing that he was close to losing his brother, Bill felt ill. "She's going to be taking back our brother? And you're just going to let her take him?"

Even his mum flinched a little, hearing Bill say that. "Yes, love, um…" she was wigging her hands a little.

Charlie had come downstairs, looking sour-faced. He'd probably heard the news from Percy as well from the way he looked.

"Your mother mentioned that there were extenuating circumstances," Arthur looked beaten by the conversation they were having. This was the longest dinner they'd had in months, with their plates still being mostly untouched. Nobody was filling their glasses. There wasn't any scraping of plates. "Well, there was a legal matter…they don't think that it was legal after all. The whole situation surrounding it seemed very peculiar. They don't think that his mum was in the right state to give away her child, you know. She was really ill after she'd had him—they didn't expect her to make it."

It was so bizarre for Bill to be hearing about Percy's other life. There was a whole story behind Percy that Bill had no idea about. He had a different family. Maybe he lived in a different part of England. Maybe he wasn't even English at all. He probably wasn't pureblood like their family was. He may have gone to a different school than Hogwarts if he'd been with his other family. Maybe he'd never have met Percy in another life.

"It's probably for the best," Ron finally said. "Perce never belonged here anyway."

"He was our brother!" Ginny looked at him angrily. "What are you saying?"

"You'd be happy to get rid of him, wouldn't you?" Charlie replied back acerbically. "This woman is just going to come in, take our bloody brother back to Merlin-knows-where and nobody even cares about it!" he sat down beside Bill, digging into his dry gammon and congealed beef gravy. He crammed them into his mouth. Probably so he didn't have to say anything anymore.

"Of course, we care about it!" Molly huffed. "What are we supposed to do? Ignore a court order from the Ministry?"

"Maybe telling him he was adopted sixteen years ago would be a start," Bill offered his insight. He couldn't believe his parents decided to keep this a secret. And for what? Fred and George still teased him about being adopted all the time. He couldn't imagine that it did him any favours, considering how secluded Percy turned out anyway.

"Well, that's easy for you to say now, isn't it?" Arthur asked. "We took him in. We gave him a home."

"We loved him like he was our own—he is our own," Molly added on. "I don't understand why you're bent on these details. If we had a choice to keep Percy in the house, we would. But it's not up to us. These are…"

"…extenuating circumstances," Ginny finished off tirelessly.

"Yes," Arthur nodded his head. "Well, they are. And that's the last we'll be talking about this."

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes. Everyone turned back to their plates.

"I bet that she's like him," George sunk into his chair. "His perfect, prefect mum, probably looks down at the poor, little folk like us." He said the last part with this slow contempt, as he looked at Fred, who was furious himself.

"The Wizengamot practically said that mum and dad nicked Percy from his mum's arms," Fred shook his head.

Bill thought his heart might stop into his chest when he saw Percy poking his head into their kitchen door. His hair was a mess (had he cut it recently? Looked horrendous) and his loose clothes looked crumpled. He looked like he'd put on quite a bit of weight recently, and the freckles on the bridge of his nose looked darker and more prominent. He'd probably been outside more often, which was good. He knew that Percy would rather stay at home. The weight around his face had made him look younger than he was. But his face was so withdrawn and pale like he'd just seen a ghost. He looked closer to a third or fourth year than a sixth year, even with his height. Percy was just a few inches than Bill's six-foot-three, so he was rather tall.

Charlie picked Percy up and then hugged him so tightly that Bill swore that one of his ribs broke. Percy tried to wiggle out of Charlie's hold, but the bloke had at least about three stones on him—probably more—so Percy just laid limp into his arms, as Charlie assaulted him with his brotherly embrace.

"Hey, Perce," he said. "Nice haircut. Looks great. Like you've been caught between two Hungarian Horntails, and they'd accidentally burned half of it."

"Thanks," Percy muttered, sighing in relief when Charlie let him go. Percy fell backwards onto the closest chair, as he rubbed his wrist. "Can you not attack me every time you're in?"

"Sorry, mate," Charlie wasn't sorry at all. He was grinning. "You got taller, haven't you? I mean I've expected Ron to be taller, but you look like you've gotten a few inches on you since I've last seen you."

"Hmph," was Percy's only reply. This urged Charlie to grab him and run his hand through his hair rather affectionately.

"It's not so bad," Charlie mentioned. "The haircut. I've seen worse…mind you, we cut our hairs with scissoring charms, not at the barbershop."

If Bill had seen both of his parents in a new light, he'd really seen Percy in another light as well. He looked younger than his years somehow.

"Oh, love," Molly's voice had turned sickly sweet. "I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. And I wish…I wish that I can tell you that you don't have to go and that you could choose what you really want but…" she gave him a watery smile. "Oh, love, I'm so sorry." She reached out and held his hand, squeezing it as tightly as possible.

Bill expected more of a reaction from Percy, but he couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Charlie pushed an empty plate towards Percy. It didn't seem like he had much of an appetite. He loaded his plate like normal, with his usual roast potatoes, gammon, Yorkshire puddings and vegetables, but he was picking at it more than he was eating it. Usually, Percy, like the rest of them, would be inhaling his food, especially to get to the pudding. He'd have a double serving of whatever that was, probably with more custard than he should and sit down having that with a whole pot of tea. But somehow, when Percy ate his food, he still was dainty and refined and took him about a million hours just to scoff a roast dinner that should've taken him about ten minutes. Percy could sit at the table for hours.

"Didn't notice your haircut, Perce," Fred tried to keep his tone as light as possible. "Looks like you're modelled after the Bloody Baron."

"That's an insult to the Bloody Baron," George didn't have as much livelihood to his voice either. "But with that translucent skin and your glaring, all-seeing eyes, I suppose it's easy for you to look like a Hogwarts ghost in general. But now, you've got the hair to boot!"

"But worse," Fr ed agreed. "Much worse."

Bill swore he saw Percy smiling. "Is that all you have?" he taunted, pouring even more gravy on his plate. It looked like his gammon, vegetables and potatoes were drowning in a pool of gravy.

"Um…" George obviously didn't actually expect Percy to retort back.

"I could've done better than that," Percy seemed completely unbothered by their digs. "Thought you might ask me if I've done it by myself in the bathtub or let Uncle Bilius have a stab at it with one of his kitchen knives." As he said that, his shoulders dropped, probably because he realised that 'Uncle Bilius' was completely unrelated to him.

"Um…" George was fumbling.

"You've completely missed the mark." He offered them both bright smiles. "Maybe if you've mentioned I look like a mangled crup, or the fact that one side of my haircut is more lopsided than the other side, making me look more of a git than usual, then maybe I'd be more bothered."

"I'm sure that's not true, love," Molly didn't seem to understand how they got onto the subject of his haircut. "I think you look quite nice. Quite fit for that girlfriend of yours." Usually, his mum's dig was obvious that she wanted to have Penelope over for the holidays. Percy still talked to her quite a lot. Bill had seen a photo of her before. To be honest, he didn't know what she saw in Percy. She was blonde, tall, with amazing breasts and the figure of a Witch Weekly model.

"Penny?" Percy squeaked out; as if he'd had any other girlfriends in that time period.

"Yeah, Perce, your girlfriend, Penny. She's just been Obliviated this year, been taken straight to the infirmary, remember? You were upset about it for ages," Ron snorted.

"Yeah, Perce. Your girlfriend. Unless you have another one we don't know about," Fred placed a hand over his chest. His plate was absolutely piled with mashed potatoes and beef sausages. "But you're right, you know. We have been too lenient on you recently. I can't remember the last time we've put something questionable into your pillows or—"

"—swapped your shampoo bottle or—"

"—fed your owl weird things and have him upchuck all over your room," finished Fred after George had cut him off.

"You two will be doing no such things!" Molly wagged a finger at them, almost threatening them. Bill bet that they wouldn't make do on their threats because, in normal circumstances, they'd have already had Percy's dinner blow up in his face. "Haven't I told you to leave your brother alone? As if he hasn't been through enough without you poking fun at him all the time!"

"What has Percy been through besides nearly dying that one time from eating an almond?" Ron mentioned.

Ouch. They'd almost forgotten what had just happened.

"Well…I have a different mum," Percy said, in a matter-of-fact tone as he raised his eyebrow at his mother.

Bill was pretty sure everyone had suddenly held their breath. In fact, his father had been taking from a glass of water and started promptly choking on it when the conversation took a sudden turn.

"And father technically," Arthur offered a sweet smile.

Percy nodded his head. He was cutting his gammon aggressively. It mostly looked like he was stabbing his gammon steak as much as he could with his knife. He looked funny in his Puddlemere jumper. Even with the weight on, it was about three times his size.

"It's not the worst news in the world," his mum had said lightly. "To find out you're adopted, is it?"

Bill watched his younger brother stare back at her vacantly, not saying a single word.