Forgotten Pasts

Hazel eyes peered worriedly through a tiny peephole, cleverly hidden by a piece of stretched stocking painted the same color as the wall outside. Behind him one of the three year olds stirred, and he- quickly and noiselessly- slipped onto the bed and gathered George in his arms.

"Per'y?"

The six year old smiled and hugged his younger brother.

"Hey George."

"Where Mu'y?"

Trying not to laugh at the younger twin's slightly broken speech, the hazle eyed boy smiled down at him.

"Mama's getting food."

"Oh."

Another voice-though most couldn't tell the difference, Percy could-broke in.

"Did you tell Mum'y to be careful?"

"Of course I did," Noticing the two try to hold back yawns, he admonished them quietly. "Now go back to sleep, y'hear?"

"Yesh Per'y!" The two chimed in unison before slipping back into bed, arms slipping around each other as Fred pulled his brother closer in an unconcious gesture of comfort, revealing to Percy's knowing gaze that they were both clearly worried; though they did not know the full extent of the danger, they knew that there was danger, and they needed someone to help them deal with the fear.

They needed each other, and Percy smiled. He always knew that the two were special- they completed each other after all.

Then a loud crash brought his attention back to the peep hole. Now that they were asleep again, the twins would be okay; they could sleep through anything, after all.

"Where is he!" Black robes and white masks. Percy winced, Deatheaters. His parents didn't want him to know, but you can't hide things from an Oracle.

The man was pushed away and hushed as another took his place.

"All we want is the boy, we'll leave you and everyone here alone if we have him. There would no need for," there was a slight hint of resignation in the man's voice; he obviously knew that there was no chance of Molly acquiescing to his offer. "unnecessary bloodshed."

Despite the youth in his voice, it was obvious that this man was the leader. And Percy knew who he was- of course he knew.

Simeon Lestrange, a Ravenclaw barely three years out of Hogwarts, Director of Security at the Ministry-the deatheaters' only truly successful spy in the Ministrial ranks- was the Seeker of his House Team until Sixth or Seventh year, when he quit the quidditch team in favor for studying for the NEWTs, and one of Riddle's Inner circle.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort, you couldn't hide things from an Oracle, remember?

Plus, Voldemort just sounded ridiculous.

A sudden scream brought Percy's attention back to his mother.

His mother- Molly Anne Figg-Weasley. Despite the fact that she had had six children, and had a seventh on the way-though he wouldn't tell her that-, she was still beautiful. She recovered well despite all of her pregnancies, and was almost as slim as she was the day she married Arthur, though everyone in the family agreed that it didn't matter at all.

In fact, they agreed, it would be better if she gained a little weight- that way random men would stop hitting on her whenever it was safe enough to go to a park (with several off duty aurors with them of course).

But currently, it was working against her. A death eater- 'Crabbe' a part of his mind spat venomously- had used his wand to tear of her clothes.

As the realization that his vision, despite how inaccurate his precognative abilities usually were, ran the chance of becoming reality, Percy did the only thing he could do to save his mother the indignity that Simeon's underling was was threatening.

Turn himself in.

-+-

"BLOODY HELL! FRED/GEORGE! WHAT DID YOU DO!"

"BOYS! Watch your language!"

William Gale Weasley, better known as Bill, high-fived his younger brother at the sounds of identical-voices screaming at each other, then at the sound of a creak, they turned their heads to survey their handiwork.

They were unpleasantly surprised to see a tired Percy stumbled into the kitchen. Sans glasses, the dark circles under their younger brother's eyes were glaringly obvious, and highlight changes that anyone had yet to realize. Percy had lost weight, his face was gaunt, and exhaustion seemed to pour off of his body in endless waves.

Charles Keene Weasley, Charlie for short, shared a shocked stare with his older brother before turning his attention back to the boy-teen-man in front of him. Oblivious, Percy poored himself a cup of black coffee, downed it quickly, then poured himself a second cup and essentially collapsed at the table.

"Percy?" Bill asked cautiously.

"Are you alright?" Charlie continued.

His younger brother turned cloudy hazle eyes to him.

"Kee? Glae?"

Charlie and Bill recoiled in shock-Percy hadn't called them that in years.

Then, as if he had realized what he just said as well, Percy snapped awake.

"Bill, Charlie." He greeted sharply as he sipped his-black, Charlie noted in disgust-coffee.

"Good Morning," He continued before standing and placing his now empty mug in the sink. "And good day."

"'Taus..."

Percy froze in the doorway at the unexpected use of his childhood nickname. When the three who could actually talk called each other by their middle names, because it was an 'bigger brothers only'-thing; just before Percy had to learn that books could be as amusing as the two brothers who had disappeared to that institution of education somewhere in Scotland; when all had been right in the world, or close to it.

Before...

"'Taus, are you OK?"

Choking, Percy forced the words out, making himself as haughty as possible, trying not to show the pain that his brothers were not aware of.

"I'm fine Charlie, just a few b-bad dreams."

With that, Percival Augustus Weasley turned his back on his brothers and walked up the stairs to his rooms, seemingly unaware of the worried glances two concerned older brothers shared as he kept a hand on the wall to guide his way upstairs.