i have edited this chapter and it got deleted. i am so mad, but fortunately, i scanned it very quickly and uploaded this before work. please excuse any errors, i really don't think i'd update for a very long time if i didn't do this quick scan and as some of you know, i'm not a native English speaker, so please ignore some minor mistakes when you can.

to NWFairyGodmother, i don't really find it to be a negative review the one that you've posted. i understood your points and they are fair. i know that the three chapters are very different, particularly to the first. and this one is even more different because it's in Fred's POV. but if you'd allow me to explain, in my mind, the first chapter was a very emotional chapter and then the second ones, all my character just felt so emotionally depleted and numb after the funeral/the war/the events of the books. you saw it as drawn out and awkward and maybe even boring but i was operating on the basis that this may be the last time you'd see Percy for 10-15-20+ chapters (if you'd ever see him again anyway) so it would be very telling that they would be so emotionally detached from the situation when it was such a very intense, very worthy situation to be able to react to. i felt like it was an injustice to just include their initial reactions when they've heard the news, and tried to remedy it by the third chapter (but all my chapters are so emotionally numb, they don't have much of a reaction to begin with even though their intentions are pure) and that's really important for me to get across. to be fair, i've always written things as honestly as i can and to be honest, i felt like after such an eventful funeral, sometimes, you don't address things like you're supposed to (they literally haven't closed any of the issues they had with Percy in the last 2 chapters) when you feel like you don't have much emotion to give back to. i feel like in introspection, they would all feel differently about the situation and that's really important. and if i had a chance to rewrite it, i can't imagine it being any different because i've written it with the idea that it'll come together really well eventually. i hope you do enjoy the rest of the story.


Stay A Day in My Coffin

Chapter Four

The Swap


When Fred opened his eyes, he saw shiny red Quaffles floating in front of him. George was stood in front of him, waving his hand to him and calling out, "Percy?"

"Percy," Charlie was stood beside him. Percy? "Are you alright?"

"Oh, Percival, I was this close to letting your father take you to that hospital…" Molly whined.

"That was quite a fall," Arthur commented as if it were something that Fred should be proud of.

Percy? Fred reached out to rub his hair, which felt about as stiff as a broom. How much hair gel did he put in here? He'd probably seen Wood use less broom polish on his Cleansweep. And wait, he didn't put hair gel in his hair. Was this some sort of bloody prank? Then as his vision became focused, he was staring face to face with his twin, George, who had lost his ear in a tragic accident involving one of Bill's dangling girly earrings. When he sat up straight, he realised that he was wearing the prattiest pants alive.

"What do you mean Percy?" Fred asked. "Where is that bloody prat? I don't see him."

He had the most searing headache. He looked up to take in his surroundings and realised that he'd tripped down the stairs. Well, just bloody great. Who tripped down the stairs after the age of six? How much firewhiskey had he had last night that he'd slammed his head into the floor after tripping down the stairs? Then he remembered the war. Oh, yes, that was a big thing to just suddenly forget about. They'd gone into Hogwarts, hadn't they? There was a massive upheaval. People were dropping like flobberworms being crushed. Hard as he tried, he couldn't remember their victory. Strange. But considering they weren't hanging upside down in You-Know-Who's dungeons, he supposed they'd done alright. And considering he couldn't remember what happened, he supposed they'd celebrated it alright!

"How much did I drink last night?" Fred reached in to smooth his hair, which felt like it had been glued to his scalp.

But mentioning Percy, he did remember seeing that git made a joke and then…well, he couldn't remember the rest. His head was in so much pain. A WALL collapsed on him! Yes! Then why wasn't he in the bloody hospital? How had he tripped down the stairs? And why did George look like he'd lost about half a stone since he'd last seen him?

"That's not funny," George said quietly, his shoulders trembling. "What's this supposed to be?"

"What do you mean?" when George didn't answer, Fred sighed. "Well, I fell down the stairs, didn't I?" Fred gestured towards the stairs. "And I have this massive headache. Couldn't think of it being anything other than a hangover…" he smiled sheepishly at their mum. "Well, you know how that goes."

George was glaring at him. "Oh, I know how that goes." What was that supposed to mean?

Fred cocked his head to one side. "What in Merlin's name are you jabbering on about?" he mumbled. Then he realised that he sounded a lot like Percy and a lot less like himself. Then again, it could be the fact that he felt like he'd split his skull into two halves. "And where's the rest of you, mate? You look like you're about to be modelling Dobby's socks."

His twin looked uncomfortable. "Are you supposed to be Fred?"

"What kind of a dumb question is that? Who else am I supposed to be? The Minister for Magic maybe?" Fred was starting to sound shrill and quite like their mum. Quite like Percy too when he got cross and started sounding like he'd somehow lost a Y chromosome. "Merlin, George, are you sure that you're not the one that's fallen down the stairs?"

George didn't look quite convinced. "Prove it," he said stiffly.

"I'm not proving anything!" Fred waved his arms around erratically. "Some twin you are. 'Prove that you're Fred'."

"Prove it!" George's screams drowned any word that anyone else was going to say. Since when was George so unhinged?

Fred snorted. "Oh, I'll bloody well prove it, alright!"

He'd bloody well prove it until George was sorry that he'd asked him to prove it. He glanced over at the mirage of people that were standing over him. Some knocked-up bird, his parents that looked like they've about aged three decades, a fuming Ron, a confused Ginny, a detached Bill and Charlie and an even more fuming George. Well, with these lot there, he didn't exactly feel the need to prove anything.

"You still sleep with a bloody teddy bear that's for one," Fred held no bars back. "Named him Mr Fluff. You wear the same underpants for three days straight if you could get away with it. You sometimes throw mum's pudding into her house plants and that's why they keep on dying. You've tried to wank yourself with a can of squirty cream before and embarrassed yourself in the process but I've blackmailed you with the pictures so that you could stick a spider into Ron's room when Harry was sleeping there. You once snogged Lee on a dare. Ron knows I've got pictures of him trying to break into the girls' dormitory back from fifth year. Bill keeps his pornographic magazines in the same—"

"That's enough," Bill huffed immediately afterwards, looking at him with a hardened expression. "Fred."

"Yes, Fred! Who else would I…?" then as the headache subsided, he realised he sounded eerily like he had a P in his name. "Oh, no, no, no, don't tell me, I'm in this git's body." He looked down at his body and realised that it was tall and wiry and weird. He didn't know what to do with all these limbs. He got up from where he was sat, even though Charlie looked like he was about to pull him up. "Aye! Arsehole, I don't need your help. I'm not a fairy princess." He stood up and faced the mirror just adjacent to him on the wall and groaned. "Apparently, I'm just a bloody prat!"

He couldn't believe that he was in Percy's body. It didn't feel right to be looking down at George.

"Where am I? Where's Percy?" Fred bet he looked mental, asking for Percy when he was in Percy's body. "If I'm in his body, then he has to be in mine." He cocked his head to George. "Unless he's in yours. Come to think of it, you were acting like an absolute git just a few minutes back."

"Oh, shut up," George didn't seem so welcoming. What made him so frosty?

"Come on, love," Molly grabbed his hand and it felt strange. She never really did that with him. Maybe to her ickle baby Percy, she did that plenty to, but he couldn't remember the last time she held his hand. "Let's sit down and talk about this."

"Why should we talk about this?" Fred asked, waving his free hand around in a lighthearted gesture. "What's going on?"

"It's…" Arthur pursed his lips together into a tight line. "It's complicated."

"Fred?" Ginny's eyes were big and hopeful, but she looked confused. "I'm glad you're okay. I guess."

As Fred passed by the Weasley family clock, he realised that his handle was nowhere to be seen. They were all staring at him like they couldn't believe that he was there, and he had this sick feeling in his stomach. Was he gone? Was he dead? And if he were dead, then where in Merlin's name was Percy supposed to be? Six feet under? Because the git wouldn't do that for him. There was no way that he just fancied a nap in a coffin. But the more that he was trying to remember what happened after the wall had collapsed, the more blanks he drew.

"Oh," Fred realised. "I'm dead, aren't I?" His jaw was clenched tight. "That's why you're acting like this."

"Yeah, Freddy," George's voice cracked when he said those words. Merlin, George. Fred felt a pang of pain for him like no other, thinking about the fact that George made it out alive and he didn't. That meant that George had to see him be buried. That meant that… Fred shook his head, feeling knots form into his stomach. "You're gone. We just buried you the other day. And I don't know what Percy did. I think he…he just wanted you to swap bodies, so I guess you're in Percy's body and Percy's—well, I don't know what Percy is. I guess he's dead for now?"

"I guess," Ron looked just as confused.

Dead for now? How could someone be dead 'for now?' But Fred was dead just a couple of minutes back, and now, he was living, breathing and walking around in this six-foot-something body that he wasn't even used to.

"Swap bodies," Fred echoed incredulously. Was it disgusting that his first reaction was hoping it would take them some time to swap back? If he were dead… well, he wasn't going to be doing much then, would he? Except just be gone. And he didn't know if he was ready for that. Who's ready to die, Fred? Are you bloody mental? He thought to himself. Do you think Percy wanted to give up his life? And why would Percy sacrifice himself so that you could get to chat to George about the shop? "When my body is buried. So, Percy is in my body which is, you know, in a coffin. In probably some miserable place. And it's…temporary?"

"We don't know," answered Ron. "We don't know muck all about this. I don't know what Percy's done, the nutter."

"Don't talk about him like that," that knocked-up bird said, crossing her arms over her chest. Fred had put two and two together and realised that that must be Percy's bird. What in Merlin's name was he doing swapping bodies with a ghost when he had a wife that he'd knocked up? And was it really in his best interest to have a baby anyway?

"Ah, you must be the girlfriend—the only person I can ever imagine actually defending Percy," Fred replied. Who else would bother defending Percy? "Nice to know that precious ickle Percy found someone else to snog after he left home." He tossed a look over at George, who didn't return it. Merlin, he was out of practice as far as he was concerned. Die for a couple of days, and suddenly, everything was gloom and doom.

"I'm not his girlfriend. I'm his wife," Percy's bird answered. Fred whistled.

He noticed that everyone was staring at him, and nobody said anything.

"Do you remember anything?" Ginny asked. "About being dead?"

Fred shook his head. "No," wasn't that weird? He felt like he'd just woken up from sleep. He didn't feel like he'd been dead. "Sorry to disappoint you but it was a whole lot of nothing," he exaggerated a sad face and then realised it probably looked horrible on Percy's features. Not that his brother was hideous, but he wasn't exactly the best amalgamation of freckles, red hair and pasty skin. He sometimes thought that Percy looked like he was just recovering from dragon pox. "Merlin, Percy is so bloody tall." He wasn't used to being almost level with Ron, who was tree-sized.

Bill was smirking. "What's wrong, Freddy? Find it hard to believe that you don't need help reaching the high shelf?"

"Oh, piss off," Fred replied, which was so strange to hear it in Percy's voice. He thought that it was rather nice that Percy had sacrificed himself for his brother, but couldn't he have convinced someone marginally better looking and wasn't so awkwardly limbed? Because Fred realised that Percy didn't mean to look like a prat, but his body just instinctively made him look like an absolute git. "So…is our shop still open?"

After hearing that their shop had been destroyed, Fred felt a little gutted, but he didn't think too much of it. He wanted to pretend that everything was okay but seeing George look the way that he did made him feel sick. George looked like a kid. He and George weren't ever porky kids by any means, so the couple of pounds that were off George's frame made him frailer than Ginny. Seeing the fact that he had dark shadows under his eyes, like he hadn't slept at all, was kind of disturbing. Fred held his breath when George walked into the room and his ears turned red.

Their room was a bloody disaster. George had torn Fred out of his photos. His bed was a bloody mess. Look, their room was never tidy, but it had never looked like this. It looked like a tornado had gone through the room. It had become obvious to Fred that George had been destroying his room and cutting him out of pictures. He'd had Fred's clothes all in a pile in the corner of the room. He'd even pushed Fred's bed to the other side of the room. It was kind of overwhelming.

"Uh…" George had never found it hard to talk to him before, but now, he was rubbing his neck.

"I get it," but Fred didn't get it. He didn't know how it would be like if he'd lost George, but he couldn't imagine cutting him out of their pictures like they were in a bad breakup. What was going on through his mind when he'd done that? And it wasn't like George could forget how Fred looked like. All he had to do was look in the mirror!

Fred walked over to the pile of clothes in that small corner of the room. He picked up some of his favourite black sweatpants and a bright red t-shirt that could probably burn out real Percy's eye sockets. Fred unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down.

George smiled weakly. "You look great, Freddy. Very professional."

Fred was grimacing as he looked at his underpants. "Does he seriously have to look like a prick naked too? Oh, for Merlin's sake." Did Percy really wear tighty-whities? Of course, he did. Did Percy really think this through when he just gave his body to Fred, knowing that Fred would be seeing him starkers?

He pulled up his sweatpants, which would fit him almost perfectly, but was a loose mess around Percy's chicken legs—and obviously, closer to shorts than pants. His t-shirt, again, which would normally fit him stretched so weirdly around Percy's body, and barely hit his hip when it would be close to Fred's thigh.

He climbed into bed with George, when he hadn't done that since they were kids. Percy's body was too big for George's bed and he had to curl himself in ways that he didn't think a body could even curl just to have enough space. George buried his head into Fred's arm, as tiredness washed over him. George grabbed Fred's hand and was stroking the insides of his wrist. He was starting to doze off, but Fred's eyes were snapped wide open.

"Fred?" George called out tiredly. "Aren't you tired?"

Fred shook his head. "No," he supposed he'd been asleep for a couple of weeks now. "I think I feel a little bit like the prat." George just sat up a little and stared at him with a 'seriously?' expression on his face. "I mean I'm carrying his big fat head on my shoulders. I guess it's a given that I'd be thinking about the stuff that Percy thinks about but it's just weird." But he didn't feel comfortable lying there in bed with George. The priggish git wouldn't even relax if he were sharing a bed with his own twin brother. That was great to know! "I really do feel like I have a stick up my arse."

George smirked. "Do you remember how Perce felt about it when we told his old girlfriend that he had cold sores?"

That was a good one. "Oooh, I'd like to know about that one too," Fred hadn't been there to witness it, but Oliver Wood had said that he'd been pretty pissed at the time. George laughed in response. "We can make a list. I can revisit all of Percy's reactions." He shuddered in delight just thinking about all the stuff he'd get to experience firsthand. He wondered if Percy ever wanked in the Gryffindor showers like a normal bloke, or if it was beyond him.

"Yeah," George replied drowsily as he started to doze off.

"This can be a good thing," Fred sounded almost like he was forcing it.

George just smiled. It looked tender and heartwarming. It kind of reminded him of how his mum smiled when he saw a newborn baby. Scary stuff that was. "I can't wait until I tell Lee and Angie that you're back."

Fred felt like his lids were starting to get heavy too suddenly and he closed his eyes. Now, that it was so quiet, his mind drifted away to a hoard of memories he didn't even know that he had. But suddenly, he was lying in bed all alone, listening to the sounds of a bristling street outside. He could remember turning to the side and looking outside, and it all just seemed rather bleak and uninteresting. Blimey, was that what Percy thought about everything? Scary. When Fred looked outside and saw the world go by, his mind just buzzed with all these ideas of what he wanted to do, but all it did for Percy was give him this sinking hollow feeling. Fred had never felt like that before. He didn't know what to do with this feeling that the whole world was just unravelling before him.

After a while, he stood up from his bed and then headed downstairs, feeling a little perturbed by how dark his thoughts had gotten. Was that just a side-effect of being brought back from the dead? He hoped so.

When he was searching the fridge for food, he heard snickering behind him. "You've only been back for a few hours and you're already raiding the fridge," it was Bill. Fred looked up from the fridge and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "How does it feel like to be in Percy's body?" he asked.

"I feel…" Fred shook his head. "Look, I feel great, but Percy's such a bloody downer."

"Anything in particular?" Bill asked, and Fred shook his head. "Well, don't you think it might have something to do with the fact that Percy is grieving? Can you imagine how bad he must've felt to decide to bring you back from the dead, at—possibly—the expense of his own life?"

"You mean…" Fred's shoulder slumped. "Percy might really not come back? That wasn't a joke that everyone was making? Seriously?" he felt like he'd just been hit with a massive Bludger. It was amazing that he was still stood up.

"Yeah."

"Why would that git do that?" Fred didn't understand. "Does he have a death wish?"

"Well, you know better than we do. You're in his head," Bill pointed out, but Fred was shivering. What kind of headspace did you have to be in to decide that you were going to bring your dead sibling back at any cost? And in a million years, if Fred had to guess who would sacrifice himself like that, he wouldn't have ever thought Percy would do something like that for him. And was it for him? Or was it just so that Percy could ease his guilty conscience?

"I guess," Fred felt kind of strange for not being able to just tell them straight off what he thought. He just moved his head away from Bill's and let his shoulders slump in defeat. "But it's not like I can magically tap into Percy's brain and figure out what his political, social and romantic opinions now, can I?"

"I don't know," Bill moved towards the kettle so that he could pour himself a cup of tea, which he then heated with a wave of his wand. Steam came out of the cup and it suddenly smelled like breakfast around the table in the morning in the Burrow. Bill then proceeded to dump enough clotted cream into his tea to give his father a stroke. "Can you?"

Fred tried to think about it, but he just drew up a blank. "I don't know" was all he could reply with.

He made himself a sandwich from leftover ham and some low-fat cheese his mum insisted on having around (there wasn't anything else and he didn't want to ruin Percy's girlish figure). He made his sandwich and toasted it with a couple of charms before sitting down. He had it diagonally cut and cheese was pouring out from the sides. As Fred started eating it, he felt a little ill. The cheese tasted nice and warm into his mouth and the ham was salty, but it was leaving this strange brick-like feeling in his stomach. Fred swallowed like it was a chore. Well, girlish figure mystery solved. Percy had such a stick up his own arse he couldn't even relax enough to enjoy his food.

He's mourning, remember? Fred recalled his conversation with Bill, who was sat across from him sipping tea and reading Seeker Weekly like everything was fine and dandy. "Is George okay?' he suddenly asked. "Because...he cut me out of the pictures in our room. And bugger doesn't look like he's done much sleeping before I was around."

Bill winced as if he'd been pinched. "He wasn't okay," he said rather stiffly. "Fred, you were gone," he reminded him. "What did you think that George was going to do? What would you have done if something happened to George?"

"I don't know." The thought of George being hurt in any way made Fred feel uncomfortable. "But I reckon I won't be cutting him out of my pictures and throwing his clothes in a pile at the end of the room." He felt like he didn't recognise George anymore. That he'd changed and as much as they continued with their usual banter, it felt like it was off-key. There wasn't as much of a spark in George as it had been before.

"Everyone grieves differently, Fred," Bill sounded out in disbelief. "This is the first time that George has slept in ages without any nightmares." He frowned. Fred didn't envy him for witnessing George so distraught "Come off it, Fred, if something had happened to George, you'd be absolutely livid."

Fred shivered. "I'm not heartless, mate." He could imagine being angrier more than anything, getting into fights and getting their parents into more trouble than ever if anything had happened to George. And whilst they were on the topic of grief, did that mean that they were going to start grieving Percy too? Because he was technically 'gone for now', or were they just going to assume that Percy was on some death-defying adventure that he may not return from? Because Fred felt like a right cunt for not believing that Percy had electively decided to lend his body to Fred for a while.

"I hope you're thinking of going to bed soon," Bill gestured towards Fred's ham and cheese toastie, which he'd eaten approximately one and a half bites out of. "Percy has work in the morning."

"Work?" Fred didn't know what he was going to bloody work for. Where there a Ministry still standing after all of this? And what was he going to be doing in Percy's boring old job? "You've got to be joking."

Bill smirked. "I'm sure mum's going to be packing you a lunch box."

"She doesn't!" there was no way that Molly had been packing Percy his lunch box all this time. There was no bloody way. He wouldn't believe it. But now, he was suddenly hyped up, thinking about all the ways that he could absolutely destroy—or come on, to be fair, let him call it what it was—improve—Percy's life. "This is going to be fantastic."

"Fred, you know Percy would probably like to keep his job," his oldest brother warned. "Just a word of warning."

"Noted," Fred didn't give a rat's arse about Bill's 'word of warning'.

Fred hadn't slept that night, which was all as well, because he'd changed into Percy's clothes, trying to figure out what would make him look prattier. Was it this argyle jumper that looked like it belonged to their granddad? Was it these pair of pinstriped trousers that had been cut in a way that made Fred felt like he'd given himself a pelvic fracture just pulling them up? And what about the sad, leathery straps of Percy's suspenders? (Not meant to be confused with women's suspenders.) Well, in the end, he'd decided that he couldn't be bothered to try any more things, so he supposed there he was in this weird amalgamation of Percy fashion. He put on his satin purple Ministry robes. With all these patterns and colours, Fred would say that Percy was primed to be working a day in their joke shop.

He shook George awake just to tell him that he was going to work because he was in Percy's body, to which George sweetly replied, 'piss off' and threw a pillow back at him. Well, at least he was feeling better now, wasn't he?

By seven in the morning, Fred was just about to leave when he caught his mum shoving that fabled lunchbox towards him. He was going to be taking the piss out of this for ages. Poor ickle Percy needed their mum to be making him food. How would his wife feel if he knew he was two-timing her with his own mum?

"Don't you go around causing so much trouble," Molly said, just pointing out that she still knew it was Fred. She scrunched up her nose, eying him up and down. "Did you really have to dress like that? You look like a joke."

Percy is a joke, mum was Fred's real response but he just kept smirking at him. "It's Percy's clothes, mum."

"Love, I hardly doubt Percy would put this together himself if he were steaming drunk," now that their mum mentioned it, Fred had never seen Percy steaming drunk. How come he'd never seen Percy have a drink? He could just imagine him losing that control he craved so much and making a great big fool of himself. He must remember if Percy had ever had a tipple. He must take Ron, Charlie and George out drinking just to figure out how it was like. "And don't you run him out of a job. Percy's…Percy's done a huge favour, letting you lend his body so don't you start going around ruining his life for your amusement." She then looked up, because their dad was apparently by the door. When had he gotten so stealthy? It wasn't the wizarding war anymore, dad. "Arthur! Tell your son that he shouldn't be ruining Percy's career for a laugh."

Arthur just smiled as he walked over to Fred. "First day at the Ministry then? Oh, you'll love it." There was a warmth in his voice that made Fred shudder in a way that felt weird. What was that feeling that he was supposed to have felt? Pride? Would Percy ever stop being such a smug twat? "It's a real hoot."

"Arthur!"

Fred smiled back at him. "Thanks, dad."

Arthur just shrugged at her. "You always wanted the twins to be involved in something serious!"

"Darling, are you really leaving like that?" Molly asked. "You're missing your glass—"

"Can't chat, have to go," Fred kissed his mum's cheek, which was very un-Percy-like. Very un-Fred-like to be fair too, but it surprised her enough that she didn't say anything. "So many cauldron bottom reports to write, so little time!"

So, the first day of being like Percy, and by eight in the morning, Fred was dying of boredom. He was in this stuffy desk, with this massive pile of work in front of him with labels like URGENT smacked across it. What was so bloody urgent anyway? It better not be cauldron bottom reports, or Fred might lose it. But some Percy part of him must have kicked in because he was making his way through the gigantic pile on his desk. This is boring, Fred thought to himself, without even touching anything on the desk.

"Arthur told me everything… Fred," Kingsley's voice made Fred shudder because he didn't expect the bloody Minister of Magic to sneak up on him. He was eying his clothes up and down. "Try not to muck up the Ministry," he prodded him by the sides like they were old pals. Very not Ministry-of-Magic-like of him, but then it was Kingsley. "I don't want to sound like I don't trust you to know what you're doing… but do have any clue as to what it is you're supposed to be doing?"

"Not a clue," Fred answered indifferently.

"That's a bloody shame, but I don't know what Percy does either. But he had an assistant of some sort—she comes in around an hour from now," Kingsley's admission was very strange for Fred to know. Percy could be releasing Death Eaters out of Azkaban for all that Kingsley knew—not that Percy was an evil mastermind of the sort. "I mean all this daft paperwork," he gestured to the room, which seemed to be covered from surface to surface in boxes. "They filed certified forms on the death of muggleborns like they were turning in portkey requests."

Fred nodded his head, not sure how to comment on that. "She?" he commented instead. "Are you sure that Percy's wife is okay with him hanging around other pretty assistants for long hours of the day?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll approve of this one," Kingsley winked at him. "Told her all about you."

"About me?" Fred echoed incredulously. "Isn't this supposed to be one big secret?"

"Who said?" but there was a twinkling in Kingsley's eyes that let him know there was more to the story. "And I heard that this particular lass already knows a lot about you."

"The cover girl for Primpernelle's, is it?" Fred asked and turned to the slop of paperwork on the desk and sighed before picking one up. There were people getting off all sorts of departments on the elevator. Made you think if you really needed a Quidditch and Sporting Community straight after Hogwarts. What were they supposed to be there for? Morale? And he knew that was a little hypocritical coming from the bloke who envisioned running a joke shop all his life, but he never claimed to be part of the bloody government then, did he?

As he was waiting around, Fred made himself a rather horrible cup of tea that tasted mostly like water, and then gave up and decided to review the papers on his desk. It was like the second he'd picked up a quill, some Percy-like thing just clicked into him because he had titled the paper as Number One and then went about scanning it. On top was also written To Review. Merlin, Percy had such pretentious handwriting. He used to spend ages trying to perfect it back at Hogwarts in his 'free time'. He even took out a paper from the desk, when he had no idea that there were more papers to begin with. The key card. Percy's thoughts, Fred recognised when he'd looked at the laminated glossy gold paper and put it by his report. It was a missing person's report, filled in by the Ministry, to look for a muggleborn that was wanted in for 'questioning'. It's nice to see you show some incentive, he suddenly remembered Umbridge telling him when he'd taken a file full of muggleborn names and decided that he was going to be making sure they were being brought in!

Fred, Fred, Fred, he reasoned with himself. How do you know how it was like being in the Ministry at that time? I'm sure if you didn't help bring muggleborns in, they slaughtered you in your own flat. And it wasn't like you were the one that was reaching out to poor ickle Percy at the time, were you?

Feeling a little ill (and not wanting to know what in Merlin's name was going on in the Ministry at the time where Thicknesse was in charge), Fred turned to look through the drawers. He found a package of cauldron cakes that didn't look like they were expired and took them out. And suspicious enough, there was a very glossy, very in-date catalogue from their joke shop! Fred excitedly picked it and up and flipped through it. Strange as it was, Percy had circled in a few products. And as strange as it was, Fred could remember large shipments of said products being ordered in from a company. A 'company?' Or Percy funding their business? And what would Percy do with 'Weather in a Bottle?'

I smell something that's a lot like mum's fish casserole surprise thank you very much, Fred thought to himself.

"Fred? Is…is that really you?" that voice snapped Fred out of any reverie that he might be having as he looked up and saw Angelina Johnson just stood there, with her mouth agape. She was wearing a pair of black shorts, and an oversized Holyhead Harpies sweatshirt. She looked as fit as ever, and here Fred was, completely tongue-tied and looking like an absolute moron. And he just had to be in Percy's body. Why did he have to end up being in the body of a bloke that had about as much muscle tone as one of their mum's jumpers? "Kingsley and George told me."

And Lee would broadcast that all over Potterwatch just wait and see. Fred broke out into a grin. "Missed me?"

"Arsehole," Angelina huffed as she sat across from him. Her eyes went down to the cauldron cakes on his desk, and the fact that he'd done absolutely fuck-all in the past hour. If he'd known that Angelina was going to be there, he wouldn't bother even pulling out a quill. "So, what have you accomplished so far?"

"What have I accomplished?" Fred feigned a look of hurt. "Here I am, just brought back from the dead, and all you seem to care about is what I've accomplished when I was six feet under…"

Just saying that out loud made them both shiver. Angelina's eyes darted down to her feet. Shame that the chemistry that they'd both had seemed to have been squandered the second that Fred had died. Seven years of attraction down the toilet just because you were pronounced dead a few weeks back!

"What do you do with Percy all day anyway?" Fred changed the subject. "Besides shagging him on the desk because you just simply couldn't resist this," he gestured towards Percy's body with a smirk. "You don't look the same…"

"Ha-ha." Angelina crossed her arms over her chest. "And maybe I don't look the same to you because Percy wears glasses?"

Fred reached to feel for the glasses on Percy's face. Ah, so that was what he missed today. And here he thought that someone would remind him why he couldn't read the elevator numbers correctly and why he was craning his neck to read Percy's scrawl. Not to be cruel to people that needed glasses, but wasn't it sad that you needed help to do something that most of the population can do without a second thought? What next? Needing help to take a leak?

"Fair point," Fred rubbed his eyes. Now that he really paid attention, everything did seem a little out-of-focus and he was straining to see a little. "What do you and Percy do all day in this stuffy office anyway?"

"We go over reports that were for muggleborns that were brought in for questioning to look for them. You know, it's something for me to do when the Quidditch season is off. Oliver mentioned he was helping too—probably trying to get rid of this war as quick as he could so that he could go back to playing Reserve for Puddlemere," Angelina said in a matter-of-fact tone with a nonchalant shrug. Of course, Angelina would be the kind of person that would pop into the Ministry, have a job for a few days and then decide that she'd rather be flying around a broomstick. She probably didn't disagree with Oliver's notion. "There were these massive muggleborn protection groups before. You remember them from Potterwatch. I don't know if you know about it—because do you remember Penelope Clearwater? Percy's ex-girlfriend? She led one. And there were moles in the Ministry that would help change the reports around to hide them. They used secret words from the key card." Angelina tapped at the keys. "We figure out where they're at from the key card and we update their files—well, Percy does most of that since he doesn't mind so much the paperwork."

"So…" Fred began. "You help get muggleborn identification information that was kept partially hidden by Ministry moles?"

"That's just about it," Angelina shrugged. "But I'm sure there's more to it. I mean…I'm sure that there is more cryptic messaging in the reports that were being put in. There are just random numbers that would pop up everywhere! Nobody knows what they mean, but Kingsley thought that maybe they were involved in hiding the muggleborns because he's having a hard time figuring out where they're hidden… even if we know that their whole life story—which again, is hidden by key cards in the script. As of thus far, we have more missing muggleborns than ones that have been found. And it comes as no surprise to you, Percy is more helpful than me when it comes to this rubbish! Kingsley gave him the key card to work with after all. And I'm just his part-time assistant."

"I know that all of that is supposed to be heartwarming, but it just sounds bloody boring," Fred voiced out.

"Unbelievably," Angelina agreed. "The ones that we find dead or tortured or mutilated, they get sent to St Mungo's—for free of course—and a lot of purebloods and half-bloods have been opening their homes to homeless muggleborns that have lost everything in the war. I mean I like that part—you know, the helping them part—but not so much all the paperwork. You never, ever get to see who you're helping, just endless piles of scrolls that need to be updating." But Fred had a feeling that most of their job was the paperwork part. "Bloody daunting. I threaten to quit every day."

Fred wanted to quit right now actually. "Well, I'm not doing Percy's job for him." Then he asked, "But then, why does Percy have a catalogue from our joke shop?" to which Angelina just shrugged at him.

"Supporting his baby brothers maybe?"

"Over his dead body," Fred said and then felt himself wince at the thought. It was hard enough saying it without thinking about whether Percy was dead or not. "Um…Ange, do you think that Percy's not going to come back?" he found it hard to put those two together. If Percy were back in his body, that meant that Fred would be…

Angelina seemed to think the same thing because she didn't look happy about the turn of events. "I'm not sure. Honestly, I have no bloody clue what he did, or how he did so…"

"Yeah. Everyone feels the same way."

Fred didn't bother looking at the paperwork that Percy had. He'd try and give it a go another day, but it wasn't every day that you were struggling with the thought of your own mortality. He'd gotten a flying memo from Percy's ex-girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater (fancy that!), about seeing him in the pub after he was done working. Fred wanted to answer back with 'I was done working the second I've gotten behind that desk' but he'd instead answered back that he'd suppose that he needed to eat (a direct jibe at Percy who pushed back his lunch hour until it was time for dinner.) So, then, at only one in the afternoon, Fred was sat at the pub with Penelope Clearwater sat across from him. He couldn't believe what was happening. This sounded like a badly written romance novel. Day one of Percy Weasley's life. Turned out the old bugger was having an affair? Why else was he meeting up with his ex-girlfriend?

"Percy," Penelope wasn't exactly making googly-eyes at him. Fred wanted to tell him that he wasn't Percy, but he wanted to play into this. What was going on? She pulled out a scroll from her bag. What was that? List of favourite positions? Write an essay about how vanilla sex was so overrated? "Percy, did you get to finish the list?"

"Um…"

Then he remembered what Angelina said about Penelope being the leader of one of those muggleborn protection groups. So much for a hot, steamy affair. And it also explained why Kingsley didn't want to butt into this. So, Percy was either part of or aiding some muggleborn protection group.

Penelope sighed unhappily. "We need that list."

Fred had no idea about the situation between them, but he was beginning to feel a prickling of irritation already and he hadn't even been there for more than a few seconds. Percy's feelings, not his own because he had no bloody clue what was going on.

"I know you don't work for me. I know that you have other things on your mind. I know your brother just died," Penelope said that as if she didn't care about those other things that he'd had on his mind that was for starters. Fred was a little offended that his death was about the least important thing on that list? Bugger. Fred could feel some sort of resentment there that Percy had from before. A part of him was considering how nice it would be if a dungbomb just went off right now. Fred almost smirked at the idea. "But I need that family you were looking after to complete the list. We need this come to full circle and it can't if you're hogging all those reports to yourself."

Fred rolled his eyes. Merlin, had Percy really been snogging her before? She hadn't even asked him how he felt like.

"I'm not hogging the reports to myself," he didn't know what Percy would say in this situation but 'piss off' wasn't an option. That was all he really knew. He had tried to sound as snooty as possible. And with Percy's voice, he was beginning to realise was easy to do. "As you said, I have other things on my mind."

Perce, what do you do with these files? He asked himself. Where were Percy's thoughts when you needed them?

Nothing of your concern, he imagined Percy answering him back.

Bloody hell.

He wanted to high-five himself for his performance though. He sounded like a complete git. Penelope just huffed and before he could say anything, Fred nearly let out a squeak when Oliver Wood just happened to sandwich himself in between them. Seemed like he'd discovered cologne, but he'd put on so much that Fred's first instinct was trying not to gag. Oliver offered a bright smile towards Fred, who did not return it but stared at him, agog because what in Merlin's name was this supposed to be like anyway?

"Leave him alone, Pen, he just bloody buried his brother a day back. He planned the fucking funeral for Merlin's sake. It's not like he's just been on vacation," Oliver reminded her, puffing out his cheeks. He looked at Percy with the kind of concern that you'd hate for any of your friends. "You alright, mate?"

"When has Percy ever taken a vacation?" Penelope replied teasingly. "That's fair enough… but…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake…"

Fred nodded his head stoically. Percy planned his funeral. Of course, he did, considering he loved organising everything but Merlin, that sounded pretty rough.

"Percy, I don't know where you hid that family. I know where everyone else's hid theirs, but I have no idea where yours have gone!" Penelope finally stated, sighing deeply. "You were the ones that assigned them through…I don't know—whatever algorithm that you've put together so that you could hide them. And it's great but now, we don't know how many of them had been attacked, how many of them survived, how many of them know that the war is actually over so… please, can you let us know? Or just give me a few names! I don't need the whole registry in my hands by tomorrow. Just. That. Family." She looked desperate. "You can owl me."

"I was hiding a family from the Ministry? I mean—" Fred nodded his head, but instead, he was thinking about what he'd seen at his desk. "I might have an idea. I'm not sure if—"

"I know that you did, Percy," Penelope sighed in relief. "How soon can you get back to me?"

Percy had to have a list somewhere, even if it was just a name. There was no way that Percy hadn't bloody deciphered a single one since then, had he? "I don't know," Fred shrugged which was one of the least Percy things he could've done, even Oliver sat beside him was looking at him like he was an imposter. "I have an absolutely harrowing schedule," he'd added the last bit at the end, which made Penelope roll her eyes. Was Oliver Wood part of the muggleborn group too? And he realised when he opened his trap, he sounded like he was mocking Percy for every time that he'd said that he'd had a 'harrowing schedule' and couldn't be 'bothered with their nonsense.'

"I can help you if you like," Oliver shrugged. "Ange always goes home at this time, so it'll just be me and you."

"I don't need your help, thank you very much," sounded very Percy-like to Fred's ears.

"Suit yourself."

Fred just managed to get back to the office to see Angelina pack her things. It was then that he'd locked the door behind him and let out a deep breath. Angelina looked up from her massive bag, where she'd probably shrunken down half her desk and crammed it in there—along with her Quidditch equipment of course. "Fred? What's wrong?"

"Do you know if Percy's part of Penny's muggleborn protection group?" Fred asked rather hurriedly, trying to put out all the pieces together. "She just asked to meet up for lunch. Ol was in on it too?" he was talking so quickly he could barely catch up with what he was saying. "I have no ruddy clue what they were faffing on about. They want names from a list that I don't even bloody know if Percy has! They said Percy was hiding a muggleborn family from the Ministry!" even as he said it out loud, he didn't know why Percy would be helping muggleborns out. "I mean—you've been doing this," he gestured towards the papers. "You said you were trying to get muggleborn details. So, can you help a mate out?"

"Just barely," Angelina stared at him. "Knowing their upbringing, where they snogged their first crush and what they had for lunch is hardly helpful information. Kingsley says that they've been running around in circles most of the time trying to figure out where muggles have been hidden but at least the report deciphering is helping them. But out of hundreds of muggleborn files, we've only managed to track down about ten." Her ears went red. "And they…they weren't in good shape."

"Oh," Fred swallowed the lump in his throat. "Were they from Percy's reports?"

Angelina shook her head. "No," she raised an eyebrow at him. "Percy's the one that's working on his own reports. And Kingsley thinks that he's been taking so much time because—well…" he gestured towards Fred's body, which led him to nod his head. "Do you think that there's something going on?"

"I don't know," Fred answered with a hapless shrug. But internally, a part of him that was very much like Percy was screaming at him and all directions pointed to the fact that there was something wrong here. And there was this sinking feeling in his stomach and this immense guilt. Merlin, Perce…what have you done?

He leafed through the papers and a rush of emotions just went through him. Then it dawned on him, this irreversible rush of emotions that he was getting—Percy's emotions, Percy's thoughts, Percy's feelings and Fred felt like he was about to double over. Because Fred realised that Percy couldn't remember where he'd hidden them. And Fred was left utterly discombobulated, because how could you not remember hiding a whole family?