All the King's Men
By Perse
Chapter 5: Of Mice and Men
The stairwell was dark, but there was a light at the bottom.
Ron descended slowly. While he wanted to reach the light, wanted to know if it held what he sought, he was also inexplicably afraid of it.
Still, he went. It seemed incredibly long. Eventually he reached the bottom, stepping into a small basement room.
People milled about—Order members. Lupin was there, and Moody. And Bill, in the corner.
In the middle of the room sat a chair. In the chair...sat his brother.
He approached the chair in a daze. No one stopped him, or even seemed to notice him.
Fearfully, shaking, he reached out a hand and touched Percy's face.
He was cold.
Too cold.
Feeling almost as if the hand had a mind of its own, he began to stroke Percy's cheek. His brother didn't move. Ron released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding in a shaky half-sob.
He was noticed then. Abruptly, Bill was beside him, gently grasping the hand. "Ron..."
Ron pulled out of his grasp, reaching for Percy again. He said simply, "No..."
Bill grabbed him; forced him away from the chair. Ron fell to his knees a few yards away, and Bill followed, placing himself between Ron and the chair and blocking his line of view.
"He's dead, Ron. He's dead."
"No! No...he can't be..." He was crying.
Bill moved to hug him, holding him tightly. When he did so he shifted out of Ron's line of vision, and he could see Percy's body again. His vision swam with tears and he closed his eyes, pressing his face into Bill shoulder.
"Ron! Ron, wake up!"
It wasn't the words, but the very real sensation of hands on his shoulders shaking him that woke him. He came awake with a gasp, disoriented. The bedroom was lit with a dull glow. Harry was at his side, leaning over him, concern on his face.
Ron simply stared at him for a few moments, breathing hard and trying to separate the dream from reality. Percy's alive, Percy's alive...he repeated it mentally like a mantra and shut his eyes tightly until he'd managed to convince himself that it was true.
When he opened his eyes again, Harry looked even more worried. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah." Ron pushed himself upright, forcing Harry to move back a bit. But he remained seated on his friend's bed. "I'm sorry I woke you," Ron said, rubbing his eyes. "Was I yelling?" he assumed, having played this scene more than once during the summer, though this was the first time this particular nightmare had put in an appearance.
"No." Harry paused, then said hesitantly, "You were crying."
Ron looked at him in surprise, then realized with a shock that his cheeks were still wet. He hastily scrubbed at them. He'd survived this whole hellish summer without crying. Why would he have this nightmare now, when his brother was safe?
Embarrassed now, he looked away as he felt his cheeks burn. "Sorry," he mumbled again.
"Don't apologize," Harry said softly. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offered, and it was sincere, if a bit awkward.
But Ron had no desire to relive it. "No, thanks," he said faintly. "I'm fine."
Harry looked unconvinced and almost pained as he appeared to be digging for the right words to say. Unwilling to have this conversation Ron asked abruptly, "Will you come to Diagon Alley with me later? I want to get something for Percy."
Harry looked surprised. "Sure," he answered hesitantly. "But...aren't you going home later today?"
"Yeah. And, I know you're not going to be staying there, but you can come with me. We can floo from there. Then you can come back for the night."
He knew the adults would never go for it. But he couldn't imagine anything he'd rather do, and he guessed that Harry was sick of being cooped up as well. Getting out of these walls, spending an afternoon out in the magical world with his best friend would be great.
He watched the emotions flicker over his friend's features before Harry said reluctantly, "You know they'll never let us out alone, right?"
"Oh, sure. I'll find someone," Ron responded absently.
"Damn," George cursed, feeling the sticky wetness of blood almost immediately begin to trickle down his hand.
"George?" Fred called, concern in his voice.
"Sorry, everything's fine," George responded. Fred was in the front of the store, helping a customer. George had been setting up a display in the back corner. Now he stared down at the broken glass and the oozing brownish liquid on the floor. He pulled out his wand and knelt beside the mess.
He heard the Fred thank the customer and walk her to the door as he said a soft, "Scourgify." The mess disappeared, and he tilted his head to look back up at the display. It was almost overwhelming from this point of view. With a sigh he let himself fall into a seated position on the floor, staring up.
His twin had returned to the register. "You want to talk about it?" Fred asked as he placed the money in the register and then headed in George's direction.
George sighed, at once annoyed that Fred could read him so well and glad that he didn't have to dance around the topic. "I want to see him. But at the same time...I really don't. You know?" He feared that he was making no sense.
Luckily, he'd never needed to make sense for Fred to understand him. "I know," his twin said quietly, coming to kneel beside him. "Are you okay?"
George stuffed his wand back in his pocket and then held up his bleeding fingers. "I'll live."
Fred took his hand gently and pulled out his own wand. As he performed a simple healing charm, George asked the same question he had already asked twice since Fred's visit with Percy the night before. "How do you think he'll respond to me?"
Fred sighed and put his wand away before answering, "He was fine. I mean, it was weird of course, and he was obviously a little uncomfortable. But we had a nice, friendly conversation." He paused, looking George in the eye in a way that seemed to look straight into his soul. "He really has no memory. Whatever has happened in the past is in the past, George. You get a fresh start."
"Until he gets his memory back?" George asked softly.
Fred looked away, apparently not having an answer for that.
"Are we supposed to treat him like someone else?" George paused to take a calming breath, then admitted, "I don't know how I'm going to respond to him, Fred. I don't know how I feel about him right now."
"George...last year, when we hated him for everything he had said and done...underneath all of that, did you still love him?"
"He's our brother. I can love him and not like him," George stated reluctantly. He met Fred's eyes, then added with a soft sigh, "Yes, I still loved him."
"And you still do. Latch onto that; that's all you need to know. That's all he needs to know right now."
George finally nodded, though reluctant and still concerned.
"Everything will be fine. Don't worry so much." That said, Fred's lips quirked into a slight smile. He reached to gently pinch George's side, finding the ticklish spot with ease that only a brother could possess. George jumped and smiled despite himself, then squirmed away with a well-placed elbow in Fred's chest. His twin moaned theatrically, but he had a grin on his face as he stood. He ruffled George's hair before heading back to the register.
George's gaze followed him for a moment. He wondered when Fred had become the big brother in their relationship. It used to be pretty equal, but lately he felt as if Fred was usually taking care of him.
He pushed himself up and went back to work on the display, firmly telling himself not to think about it. He still had hours before his meeting at the hospital that night, and they really couldn't afford for him to continue breaking things until then.
Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, coughing and trying in vain to brush the soot and ash from his clothes. Ron gripped his arm and tugged him away from the hearth, an act that Harry was quite grateful for a moment later when Mundungus came stumbling out after them.
Harry glanced around at the familiar interior of the Leaky Cauldron. There weren't that many patrons here at this time of day, so their appearance had only gathered a few odd looks.
"Well, you boys have a good time now, and meet me back here by dinnertime," Mundungus told them as he made a beeline for the bar.
Harry stared after him skeptically. "I'm surprised your parents agreed to this."
"Well...they're busy. Dad's at work, Mom's back and forth between the hospital, Grimmauld Place, and the Burrow. They won't even miss us."
Harry froze at that and slowly turned to look at his friend. "Ron, does anyone know where we are?"
"Sure. Mundungus does." When Harry gave him a dubious look he added, "I left a note that we were with him."
"Well, that ought to eliminate any worry," he said with a gentle sarcasm.
Ron purposefully ignored that, for he knew as well as Harry that his mother would have an aneurysm if she knew they had gone off with Mundungus. Instead he said simply, "Diagon Alley's perfectly safe. He knows that."
"Yeah, sure," Harry said aloud. But mentally he was remembering an encounter they'd had here a few years back with Lucius Malfoy. They knew there were death eaters walking around, blending with the magical community as they had done before. And they didn't know who all of them were. The danger had increased greatly since Voldemort had made his return public knowledge. While meeting Voldemort himself was unlikely, they could run into almost anyone else in Diagon Alley.
Nevertheless, he followed Ron out of the Leaky Cauldron and to the brick wall. And after Ron had performed the necessary tapping, he followed him through the opening created.
The street was crowded with witches and wizards shopping for magical supplies. It was the first time since the encounter in the Ministry that Harry had been in a public place unescorted or for any length of time. It was freeing.
And much more frightening than he'd expected.
Suddenly, he felt the need to look twice at everyone and to be hyperaware of his surroundings. It only took a few moments for him to know that he'd never enjoy the afternoon this way. To take his mind off the unwelcome paranoia, he decided to bring up another less-than-pleasant issue that he had been wondering about since that morning. "Um...Ron?" he began hesitantly, unsure of how to say this without offending his friend. But he couldn't imagine that Ron would have enough money to buy Percy much of a gift. And now Ron was looking at him expectantly, so he stumbled on, "Ah...we could stop by Gringott's if you'd like...I'd love to help out with Percy's present...I mean, it would still be mostly from you of course..."
After a few moments of staring at him blankly, Ron finally caught on and said, "No, no. It's okay; I borrowed a little money from George. The shop's doing really well you know." He paused, then added, "Thanks, though. And really, since you supplied the money for the shop in the first place, it is like you helped."
"Yeah, I guess so," Harry said with a smile. That had gone surprisingly well, and Ron had obviously been putting some thought into this. "Do you know what you want to get?"
"I have a pretty good idea."
About ten minutes later, after a brief stop to gaze longingly at the latest brooms, Harry realized that Ron was steering them towards the Magical Menagerie. He was a bit surprised, because Hermes was still perfectly healthy and had been hanging out with Hedwig all summer. Ron had been caring for him and would certainly be able to give him back to Percy.
But Ron clearly had something else in mind. When they entered the magical pet store, he ignored the wealth of other animals and went straight to the cages filled with rats.
Lots of rats, all displaying different sizes and colors and magical abilities, began to preen for his benefit. But Ron seemed to have something specific in mind, and he ignored the great majority of them. He eventually made his way to the last cage, stuffed back into a corner of the store. He reached in and fished a small creature out from its little burrow, then headed for the desk to pay.
Harry came up beside him and stared at the little rat. It was a bit scrawny and ragged-looking, as if it had passed through the hands of too many overexcited wizard children with their first wands.
He resisted the urge to ask again if Ron was sure he didn't want some financial help. But Ron knew him well enough to know exactly what he was thinking, anyway. "I know he's not the prettiest," Ron said. "But he's exactly what I was after. He reminds me of Scabbers. And you know Scabbers was kind of a gift from Percy, so it seemed appropriate."
Harry raised an eyebrow as Ron paid and they headed out of the store. Though in the end he had proven to care about the rat, Ron had always seemed to consider him Percy's used-up leftovers rather than a gift. Harry was beginning to think that it had been so long since Ron had seen his brother, and that he'd had so many confusing emotions toward him, that he was trying to reinvent his impression of Percy.
But maybe he was wrong. Or maybe it would turn out to be a good thing. What did he know about relating to siblings? Dudley certainly didn't count.
So he said, "I think it's a great gift." Then, a bit lighter he added, "You know, as long as he's not a servant of Voldemort's in disguise."
They both laughed.
Then they both stopped walking in the middle of the street and stared at the rat.
"Can they test for things like that?" Ron asked.
"Did you count his toes?" Harry asked with some trepidation, reaching for the rat's front paws.
They were all there. The little rat looked up at the two of them as if they were nutters, then simply relaxed in Ron's hands, looking bored. Harry shared a slight smile with his friend. "I suppose he's safe."
Ron tucked the little rat into his front pocket, where it curled up and almost immediately went to sleep.
Suddenly a familiar voice called, "Boys!"
Harry jumped and spun towards it. It was Fred, approaching them quickly from the other side of the street. "Little brother, Harry," he began with a bright and entirely false cheerfulness. "Out here, all by yourselves." He draped an arm around each of them, squeezed a bit tighter than necessary, and steered them in the direction of the joke shop. "Come say hi to George," he all but ordered. And even though Ron had a few inches on him, Fred easily manhandled them across the street.
They made a beeline for the shop, but they were intercepted on the sidewalk by a familiar face. "Harry...boys," the Minister of Magic greeted jovially, though in a way that suggested he had no idea which Weasleys he was talking to. "How are you doing?" he asked, sticking out a hand.
Harry expected to be let go so Fred could shake the offered hand. But instead, the redhead ignored it. If anything, his grip on Harry tightened protectively. "Fudge," he said coolly.
Ron and Harry both looked at Fred, then back at Fudge. Neither spoke. After a moment of awkward silence Fudge cleared his throat uncomfortably and pulled his hand back. "Well," he said with some of that fake cheerfulness that Fred had used just moments before, "have you met my new assistant?" he asked, nudging the young man behind him forward. "Most efficient man I've ever met. Say hello, Thomas."
Harry squirmed reflexively as Fred's grip tightened painfully. What was Fudge thinking, blatantly implying that Percy's replacement was better than him? Either he was an idiot, or he was being purposefully cruel. Harry was inclined to go with the first explanation, though neither of the Weasleys at his side seemed to share that sentiment.
As Thomas nodded politely to them, Fred sized him up in a glance and then proceeded to ignore him. Ron glared at him outright. Fred addressed Fudge with, "Percy's hanging in there, by the way. Thank you for your concern." His voice oozed with sarcasm.
Fudge stared at him for a moment. Obviously determined not to get into an argument in this very public place, he smiled and said, "Yes, yes. That's great news. Well, we'd best be running along. People to meet with, that sort of thing. Give Percy our best wishes, won't you?" As he spoke he nudged his assistant to get him moving and began edging after him.
"I'll do that," Fred responded in the same tone as before. As soon as Fudge was out of their direct path, he propelled Harry and Ron forward once more and didn't look back.
He didn't let go of either of them until they stood before the store's door. Then he released them, opened it, and held it as he ushered them inside. By this point Ron's face was approaching the color of his hair, anger evident in his features as he spun to face his brother.
George came from the back. "Ron, Harry," he said in surprise. "What are you—" he broke off as he observed his brothers' expressions.
"What are you two thinking? You can't be wandering around by yourselves!" Fred burst out.
"We're not children, Fred," Ron bit out.
"Then maybe you shouldn't act like irresponsible children!" Fred responded.
"One of the twins is lecturing me on maturity. Hell must be freezing over," Ron shot back.
"Someone has to," Fred said coolly. "It's obvious that someone needs to take care of you, since you don't have the sense to keep yourselves out of danger."
Though he was including Harry, he hadn't looked away from Ron, and it was rather clear where he was placing blame. Ironically, Harry realized, this was one of the few times Ron had been the one to lead him into possible trouble rather than the other way around.
Ron was countering, "We can take care of ourselves, you know. We battled death eaters, even though we were seriously outnumbered! And we did it without any of our baby-sitters!"
"Oh yes! And look how well that turned out! If you'd stopped to talk to any of your 'baby-sitters,' it wouldn't have happened at all!"
Harry winced, and George noticed. "Fred," he began quietly.
The two feuding brothers ignored him. "There was no one around for us to go to!" Ron threw back.
"Exactly! There was no one there then! And no one was there for Percy! Why do you think we're all so damn close now?"
And right there was the plain truth that no one had actually spoken aloud all summer. It made Ron pause, but he wasn't ready to let go of his anger yet. Harry knew it was more at the situation than the people, but venting against events wasn't near as satisfying as taking it out on people.
Still, he was surprised when Ron threw back, "And how would you help, anyway? Harry's faced Him four times and survived. All you've ever done is tick off some professors and made some kids have nosebleeds. You didn't even graduate. What good do you suppose you would be in a fight?"
His voice had risen to a level that finally woke the new pet in his pocket, and it squeaked as it squirmed in the small confines. Ron was forced to take a breath as he brought up a hand to soothe it.
Harry watched as Ron looked down at the rat, then looked up again to take in his brothers' expressions and the fact that neither of them shot anything back at him. He seemed to deflate a bit at what he saw.
George was staring at him in shock. Fred was quite purposefully looking away, drawing in deep but slightly shaky breaths.
After a few long minutes of strained silence, Ron finally spoke up again. "For the record, we did have a chaperone. He elected to stay at the bar."
And that was all the clues they needed. "You asked Mundungus to bring you out here?" George asked with raised eyebrows.
"Well...he was entrusted with Harry last summer, wasn't he?" It was a lousy argument, because they all remembered quite well what had happened when Mundungus had been left to watch out for Harry. Ron knew it; he had lowered his voice and clearly run out of steam.
"Come on. We'll walk you back to the Leaky Cauldron." Fred said it softly, managing to keep most of the emotion out of his voice, though clearly declaring an end to the argument. He never addressed Ron's last accusation.
George put out the closed sign and locked the shop before they began a tense walk back. Fred lead the way, though he kept glancing back as though he expected them to make a run for it. Ron was brooding. George seemed to have his thoughts occupied elsewhere. Harry observed it all; none of them spoke.
When they stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, Fred headed for the bar and confronted Mundungus. George steered Harry and Ron toward the fireplace, so they couldn't hear most of what looked to be a rather heated conversation—at least on Fred's part. Mundungus seemed rather befuddled by the whole thing.
After a few moments, Mundungus clamored off of his stool. "Goodnight, boys," he bid loudly before heading in the general direction of the front door.
Shaking his head slightly, Fred came back to them. He cast a slightly concerned look at George and moved closer to him. Harry noticed then that the abnormally quiet twin was gripping the urn with the floo powder so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.
"You okay with this?" Fred asked him in a low tone.
"Yeah. Sure. I'll be fine." George's smile was even more fake than Fred's had been earlier in the street. He was clearly worried about this. Nevertheless, George stepped into the hearth and declared, "St. Mungo's," and then he was gone.
Ron turned to Fred with an equally phony smile. "Well, thanks for the escort. We'll just be heading back now."
"Yes, you will. And I'm coming with you."
Ron rolled his eyes, sighed heavily, and stepped away from him into the hearth. "The Burrow," he stated clearly. Then he too was gone.
Which left Harry alone with Fred. "He's having a hard time," he said impulsively. Fred looked at him in surprise and he stuttered, "I just...I know he's being a pain for you. He's having a hard time with everything."
Fred shook his head in frustration. "He's putting you at risk. You didn't have to come out here with him."
"Yes I did," Harry said softly. "He's always been there for me. And, for the record, I wanted out too."
Fred sighed. "I know you guys are tired of being cooped up, and I can just imagine how George and I would have reacted to this a few years ago. But we—all of us—just want to keep you safe."
Harry gazed at him for a moment. At some point, Fred had grown up. A few years back, he had doubted that he would ever view the twins as responsible adults. But Fred had changed since he left Hogwarts. Or perhaps, just since Percy had disappeared.
Harry felt he could, and should, trust him with his concerns. "Ron's been having nightmares," he said suddenly. Fred glanced at him sharply, and he went on. "Bad ones...worse now than before Percy was found. He never wants to talk about them or anything, but I have been waking him up, and it's just that I won't be there now..." he rambled.
Fred bit his lip, not seeming all that surprised. "I'll keep an eye on him. Thanks, Harry. You're a good friend."
"I'm trying," he responded softly. "I'm used to being on the other end. Ron's the one who's a good friend."
As George approached Percy's room, he recognized the two figures outside with little difficulty. One was Tonks, hair a bright pink today, no doubt on guard duty. Standing beside her, Bill's hair rather clashed. It probably would have been good material for at least a few jokes had George not been so preoccupied.
He stopped a few yards from them and just stood, waiting to be noticed. It was almost eerie how Bill looked up almost immediately, seeming to sense his presence.
"Hey, Georgie."
George hated that nickname. The fact that he didn't react to it now apparently clued Bill in to his emotional state, because his older brother moved away from the door and came to him. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah. Sure."
Bill looked doubtful. "If you aren't ready for this..."
"No, I'm ready. Let's go." He started moving, hoping to convince himself of the words.
Bill caught his shoulder and turned him back. "Okay, but...try not to give him a hard time, all right?"
"I won't," George said, a little hurt that Bill thought he would be a jerk to Percy right now.
But then, hadn't he been worried about that himself?
What was it Fred had said? You love him, he reminded himself. Hang onto that and only that. Don't be angry...
As it turned out, he needn't have worried. When he saw Percy in that hospital bed, looking almost shy and as nervous as he was, he felt a rush of emotion. But none of it was anger.
"George?" Percy asked with a timid smile.
George had never really been one to think before he acted. With a jerky nod of confirmation, he went with his instincts. He crossed to the bed in a few steps and put his arms around his brother.
He was purposefully gentle, knowing that Percy could very well freak out and push him away. But George was shaking, and he soon found himself clinging in a way he'd never done with anyone but Fred.
He didn't have to be looking at Bill to know that his big brother's eyebrows had undoubtedly shot up in shock.
As for Percy, he stiffened initially. But after a moment he shifted to hold George carefully, patting his back a bit awkwardly.
After a few silent moments George forced himself to pull away. He noticed his hands were still trembling and quickly clasped them together. "Sorry," he said weakly.
"It's...okay," Percy responded softly with a shy smile.
Bill still looked rather surprised but very pleased. "I'll leave you guys alone," he announced, though he waited for Percy to nod before he headed out and closed the door behind him.
There was an awkward silence in which George had time to be shocked by his own behavior. He realized now just how worried he had been about his brother. It had been clouded by conflicting feelings, and he hadn't really let himself feel his fear all summer. But seeing him, now, in this state, had finally broken through all of his pain and confusion. It might be back tomorrow, but for the moment he decided that he should just not question what he was feeling. When he tried to name it he realized that it was a kind of pure love—something he hadn't felt for this brother in a long time.
Percy was quiet, clearly waiting for him to take the lead.
"I'm sorry about—" he broke off, gesturing between them, referencing the clingy hug. "It's just that...I've missed you." And he meant it.
There was that shy smile again, though it was a little strained. "I wish I could tell you the same. I'm sure I missed you..."
"Back when you remembered who I was?" George said lightly, determined to put Percy's worries to rest, and deciding the best way to go about that was to settle into his normal easy-going persona. "It's okay. I always annoyed you, so you probably didn't miss me too much. I'm sure you didn't miss our pranks."
The tension on Percy's face eased a bit with George's mood. "You and Fred?"
"Oh, yeah. Twin terrors—at least that's what all our big brothers used to call us. Our professors probably called us that a few times, as well," he mused.
Percy laughed. "You know, Fred didn't really seem like the prankster type."
George sobered slightly. "Yeah, well...he's grown up some lately." Trying to regain the jovial mood he added, "But don't worry; I can still be a brat. In fact, I'd be happy to. It might help you remember me."
Percy smiled. "It might. Somehow, I don't think I'm going to have as much trouble telling the two of you apart as I thought I would."
"We'll help you there if you need it," George said reassuringly.
They talked for a bit longer, the atmosphere between them now amazingly comfortable—more so than it had been in a decade. Even once he was past the initial rush of emotion, George still found himself truly enjoying Percy's company. When Bill eventually stuck his head in to tell him it was time to go, he impulsively gave him another hug as he stood. This one, Percy returned equally.
Bill hugged him as well before they left, and it was clear that the three of them finally had a good feeling about the way all of this would work out. Perhaps they might actually be able to be a family again.
tbc