Title: Family Loyalties

Author: Melanie M. (Talewg)

Disclaimer: Insert witty disclaimer banter here because I have nothing better than "Not mine. Not paid."

Warning: slightly dark.

Summary: Apologies are hardest when your brother isn't the man you once tried to kill.

Notes: Thank you to my beta reader Kappie, for all her hard work on this piece.

The first thing Fred noticed was the smell. The building reeked of sweat and dirt. The first thing George noticed was the wall paper. The striped design was peeling off of the wall, leaving piles of crumpled paper on the ground. The carpet was stained from years of dirty shoes, vomit, and blood. As they walked upstairs, they noticed the burn marks along the banisters where people had stubbed out their cigarettes.

The third floor was smoky and Fred almost tripped over a man passed out in front of room 335.

The fourth floor was littered with empty beer bottles and old shoes. The hallway from 414 to 425 was covered in a cloud of smoke that the twins did not recognize, but it smelled like burnt pine trees.

By the time they reached the seventh floor, the twins had seen the bullet holes across the fifth floor and the addicts stumbling around the sixth. The seventh floor smelled musky, like a million sprays of different colognes used to cover up the lingering smells of alcohol and vomit. Unfamiliar symbols were carved into the walls, some of them spelled to shimmer with colors or move. Shallow knife marks lined the hall for about twenty feet before they stopped at a scorched spot on the wall. Fred traced the veins on his wrist without thinking and George shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

The end of the hallway loomed ominously, and their steps slowed. The door itself was rather clean compared to the rest of the building, but still nothing so nice as to put in the Burrow. The wood frame had blade marks all up one side and halfway across the top. Some of the notches looked old, but the ones on top the door looked new. Some of them had blood, transferred fresh from blade to wood, dried into the crevices. George tried to count the notches on the door as he and Fred slowed, but gave up after thirty-five.

Neither brother looked at the other. They only looked at the door as if asking it for answers. It took George a moment to realize that Fred had already knocked. His twin, it seemed, was more eager for the confrontation than he was. Either that or Fred could bear the silence no longer.

Both twins held their breath as the handle turned. Although they had been preparing for this conflict for weeks, neither was truly ready to see their brother again.

Percy lounged in the doorway in fitted brown pants that slightly flared at the bottom and a half-buttoned royal blue shirt with the color turned up. He was barefoot and his hair was half-dried and tussled. But the biggest surprises of all were the chain necklaces—each with a trinket or two—hanging in the middle of Percy's chest and the cigarette held between his middle and index fingers.

He stood there for a long moment, taking in the twins' appearances and expressions. Finally he turned away and walking into the kitchen area to pour himself a cup of black coffee. The twins took the open door as an invitation and walked forwards. Their assumption was quickly proven wrong.

Fred knocked his head against an invisible wall that stretched across the door frame. Percy glanced over his shoulder and spoke. "You can't come in." At the twins' look of confusion he continued. "I've charmed it in protection. You cannot come in until I invite you. And since I have no intention of doing so, you can just stand there and say whatever it is you came to say."

"So what-" Fred began angrily, "you'll treat us like vampires or something?"

Percy sipped his coffee, leaning against the counter, and took a drag from his cigarette leisurely. "Oh no. I would much sooner invite in a starving vampire before I'd let in either of you."

Fred swallowed a frustrated sigh, but said nothing.

"We only want to talk," George's voice was more remorseful than Fred's had been, but Percy remained unaffected.

"Funny, that's exactly what you said last time." He did not try to hide the bitterness that danced between each word.

The twins suddenly found the answers of the universe etched on the carpet under their feet. After a length of time, George spoke again, his voice full of defeat. "We—we all—want to you-to come," he choked out the last word and looked down again, "home."

Percy sat his mug down and pushed himself away from the counter with his foot. He stalked to the couch and sat down defiantly; his feet hit the top of the coffee table with a dull thud as he crossed his ankles. Silence stretched for several moments while Percy grabbed a carton of cigarettes off of the side table. He pulled one out and replaced the pack next to a silver lighter. He touched the new cigarette to the still burning end of the old one and waited for it to light. "You know," he began, his eyes focused on the burning embers, "if the family really wanted me home, they would have sent someone else." He punctuated his last word by launching the still burning butt at the twins. It hit Fred's pant leg and he jumped with a start.

Fred was fuming. "You know, we're trying to apologize here and you won't even listen to it!"

"Fred!" George tried to interrupt his brother, but Fred was not having it.

"No!" he yelled at George before turning back to Percy. "Can't you even see what we're offering here? We're—"

"Shut the fuck up, Fred Weasley," Percy spat out. "Don't you dare come around here and preach to me. You have no right, no right, to tell me to be gracious. Because I am gracious—gracious to the Ministry for my job and this flat."

Fred looked incredulously around him and flung his arms out wildly. "This flat is shit! If you had any dignity you'd—"

"You dare talk to me about dignity," Percy said softly. "You dare talk to me about my dignity?" He questioned, voice growing louder, angrier. "I have no dignity thanks to the two of you! I lost it the day my secretary found me in my office half-dead and bleeding out on the carpet. I lost any dignity I had! You made sure of that."

The twins were silent. Percy lit another cigarette with shaking hands. The cap of the lighter shut with a metal clang that vibrated through George's ears.

Fred opened his mouth to speak as Percy took a deep, calming drag from his cigarette. Percy inhaled loudly, making Fred forget what he had been about to say.

Percy narrowed his eyes at Fred's open mouth, pure hatred lurking in his eyes, and Fred quickly shut his mouth. "But you see," Percy continued suddenly, "a man without dignity is not rare. A man without dignity or pride…well. I did not drag myself to your door and forfeit my pride. I did not betray the Ministry for a family that had never wanted me anyway. Unlike your family" Percy raised his chin with pride, "at the Ministry we take care of our own."

"This is what you call being taken care of?" George questioned sadly. How could this be better than their family, he wondered.

"No, not this," Percy laughed morbidly, but quickly stopped. "I am not so greedy as to ask the Ministry for an expensive flat in a good neighborhood after they spent several hundred galleons on my hospital bills. The Minister picked up all charges and kept the whole episode quiet," he said wistfully.

The twins were shocked. Percy had saved them from an official inquiry. Fred met George's gaze and saw the question in his head reflected in his twin's eyes; had Percy saved them unintentionally or on purpose?

His mood lifted, Percy took a last breath of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray. "Well," he announced airily as he stood up and stretched his arms, shocking the twins out of their thoughts, "this was rather uneventful and I have things to do. You know what the best part of this charm is?" he asked as he walked to the door. "Not having to tell company to leave." Percy smiled cheerfully and slammed the door in their faces.

-fini-

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