this was a really speed edit with Grammarly, so hope that it's not so bad. i usually reread my chapters more than 5/6 times as i'm not a native English speaker and sometimes miss small mistakes, but i'll just upload this one i think. hopefully, it's alright!


Stay A Day in My Coffin

Chapter Twelve

The Funeral, Take III


The days before Gideon and Fabian's funerals were sunny and bright.

On a warm July day, five-year-old Percy Weasley had managed to get everyone drinking from his nose-biting teacup, even the Aurors that had been swarming around the safehouse. He was rosy-faced, chubby with short limbs and a smile so bright that you'd think that he'd have mirrored the sun. He didn't really understand the rules behind having to stay in. He'd sneak out sometimes, walk outside the grass and look for things in the dirt that he could come home and gross someone out with whatever he'd find. He particularly liked digging flobberworms out of the dirt and throwing them inside his father's office, which was met with both concern and chagrin.

Fred watched these memories with renewed interest. All they did in the safehouses, as far as he could remember, was drive their mum crazy whilst Bill and Charlie whined about how much they'd prefer to be out for 'just a bit.' He'd had no idea that Percy had managed to get out so frequently, completely disregarding the threat of the war. As children often did. As children should do, Fred reckoned actually. If you didn't care about danger when you were a kid, when would you?

Before, Fred just assumed that Percy was born with a manual that taught him how to act around everyone and when danger lurked around. He had no idea that Percy just went in and out whenever he pleased.

"Percival!" he recalled Arthur wagging a finger at him as he found Percy sneak back into the living room. His feet and legs were covered in mud, and it was very obvious that he'd been outside. "Where have you been, young man?"

"Uh…" Percy didn't know what the right answer was to that question. "I'm not a young man. I am five."

A young man was considerably older than he was, Percy reckoned but Arthur wasn't pleased with his reply.

"That's not an answer, Percy."

"I was just outside for a few minutes. Just to see how it looked like outside today."

"A few minutes?" Arthur echoed. "Or a few hours?"

"Um… a few minutes." Percy then paused to contemplate his answer. "Maybe an hour."

"Maybe an hour," Arthur looked like he was going to lose it. "Alright, that's enough now."

He'd grabbed Percy from his arm and was taking him to the washroom. He'd stripped Percy down and forced him to bathe. Percy frowned and had not said anything at all. As Arthur washed his face, he continued to rant.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there? Do you know that there are people that are willing to take you at any time? Hurt you with a spell?" Percy said nothing, because, in his mind, he didn't care about those people. He could run away as far as he was concerned. He could find something. He felt like nothing could hurt him. He'd been out so many times. What would one more time do? "I'm not going to tell your mum. She'd lose her mind, knowing that you're out there, running about like it's summertime when there are horrible people out there ready to hurt you."

Nobody would hurt him, Percy wagered, but he didn't say that out loud. "M' sorry," he said shamelessly.

"You better be," Arthur warned. He'd taken Percy out of the bathtub and watched him brighten up.

"Uh… I have been hurt," Percy said each word as if they weren't part of a sentence. He showed his big purple bruise on his thigh and then grinned at his father. "Choco frog? I can have a choco frog?" he tried to bargain for his bruise.

"No."

"M' hurt."

Arthur looked like he wanted to tell him that was his fault that he'd gotten hurt. "Only half of one for being naughty."

"M' not naughty," Percy crossed his arms over his chest. "I was just outside for a few minutes…hour."

"The naughtiest boy in the world I'd reckon," Fabian came inside. Fred couldn't remember how his namesake looked like before. Couldn't remember the smile that could knock Gilderoy Lockhart off the cover of Witch Weekly, or the bulging biceps really. He wouldn't mind being named after him, he thought.

"Caught outside again, Percival?" Gideon came around. For some reason, they'd always called him by his first full name. Probably weren't used to shorter names when you and your twin were named Fabian and Gideon.

"A little," Percy mumbled. He technically wasn't caught outside… just forgot to clean his trousers a little that was all.

"You two shouldn't encourage him," Arthur said flatly. Fred thought he sounded more like their mum than ever. But he supposed that his mum hadn't the time to be telling off anyone, with all those other toddlers she had running around, plus having a newborn too. "Molly would absolutely lose the plot if she knew that you two know about him sneaking outside of the house like he does. I know that you mean well, but do you really think that this is what you want my son to be like? Running off with reckless abandon every chance that he gets? Putting joke products in Auror's rucksacks and watching it go off for his own amusement? As if we don't have enough to worry about..."

"He's five, Arthur," Gideon reminded him. "He's just doing what kids do."

"Do you remember when you were a kid?" Fabian asked. "A couple of ten kids back?"

"I'm not talking about what he does," Arthur said steely. "I'm talking about you knowing and not doing anything to discourage him from that. Because if you keep influencing him like this, he's going to grow up like you two."

"Ouch," Fabian placed a hand on his chest in mock pain. "That's very hurtful, Arthur."

"Very, very hurtful," Gideon agreed. "I mean, I didn't know it was so insulting—"

"—for us to influence your small wizard so much," Fabian continued. He leaned forward to ruffle Percy's hair and Percy gave him a toothy smile. "You know, we've got a new present for you." Arthur sighed because he thought that they gave him a present every day. It was usually something that helped destroy the castle. "Look," Fabian pulled something out of his pocket as Arthur pulled a t-shirt over Percy's head. "This is a hiccough sweet. You give it to annoying people and watch them spit their tonsils out when they're hiccoughing."

Percy grabbed the sweet and cupped it into his hands. "Hiccoughing sweet," he smelled it. It smelled so nice.

"Not to be put into Auror's teas," Arthur told him.

"I wouldn't think about it," Percy beamed. To be honest, he was really thinking he'd put it into his father's tea.

He had a pretty good day. After that, he'd figured out how small of a space he could fit into. He had his favourite dinner that night and ate double helpings. He had found a small corner in the house to read his new book in. It was about Dark Arts, it said, but he really wanted to know what that was all about. Nobody would tell him anything, but they'd kept mentioning it a few times around. But it was boring and rather dusty and made his asthma worse (and if he got an asthma attack, his father would never forgive him), so he forgot about that and went instead to see if his mum would give him the time of day. Of course, she didn't have any time for him because of the screaming babies she had but that was okay. He, instead, roamed around the massive manor, looking for trinkets he could find for his stash.

Percy was awake until one o'clock that night. He'd stayed up the whole night, unable to sleep because he'd had so much energy. He thought that it was so dark outside that even if there were bad people trying to hurt him, they surely weren't there anymore. Why would they be? So, instead, he'd sneaked out of the room.

He found his heavily pregnant mum and dad in their room, snoring from exhaustion. The twins were sound asleep, even Ron was sleeping, which was very rare. Everyone was asleep but him.

Sometimes, Fabian and Gideon were up at night, and they'd play Exploding Snap. They'd even shown him around their broom a couple of times, even though they weren't technically allowed to.

He could hear a lot of noise and commotion outside of the safehouse.

He walked outside, now in his pyjamas that were a little too tight on him. He was shorter and bigger than Bill and Charlie, but he didn't really care about that. He had made his own tiny map of doors he'd found that could lead outside; small doors that hadn't been charmed. Even windows that hadn't been charmed. The one he liked to leave through led straight to the yard and Percy could clearly make out figures in masks, throwing around their wands and flashes of light everywhere he went, of all colours. He could see his uncles stood with their wands held up pretty high.

Percy bit down his lower lip and patted his pocket for where he'd kept his toy wand. He crawled outside of his little door and straight into the scene before him.

It was very intense up close. There were so many jets of neon-coloured lights flicking back and forth that Percy couldn't even make out where he was seeing. Spells were being thrown out at each other mercilessly. It was Fabian and Gideon and three other Death Eaters—or so Percy thought so at least. He'd never seen them before, the bad people in the dark masks, but he'd read the name in the Daily Prophet enough. He used to sneak the articles into his room and read them before his father could. He always woke up earlier than anyone else in the house.

It was so hot and humid outside that Percy's forehead and body were damp. Percy held his toy wand up too, ready to attack, but no jets of light came from his wand. There was a sudden moment when Fabian had lost his guard and looked straight at Percy. Fabian's face was filled with shock-white terror. "PERCY! GO BACK HOME… NOW!" before Percy knew it, a jet of green light had hit him. Percy wasn't sure about it was at the time, but Fabian had fallen flat onto the ground. Percy watched Gideon look down at his twin, look back at Percy with such contempt that it made Percy feel funny. He'd never felt so scared in his life, and he just wanted to go back into his bed and be with his mum.

George—Gideon dropped down before Fred—Fabian, and there were sounds coming out of him, desperate, pleading sounds instead of shouting at his Uncle Fabian to get up. Why was he lying flat on the ground?

Before Percy knew what was happening, another Death Eater had pointed his wand at him. Gideon countered that attack with another spell and that Death Eater was flat on the ground. Another round of the same spell had sent the other two onto the floor, and Gideon's eyes were firmly onto Percy.

"Percy? Percy?" Gideon did not call him Percy. Neither Gideon nor Fabian called him that. They'd always just called him Percival, but they said it in a way that was light-hearted and jovial. "Come here."

Percy walked towards him, and he wondered if he was going to take him to bed and tell him that everything was okay. But he had a feeling that he wasn't. He had a feeling that the reason that Uncle Fabian hadn't gotten up was because he was dead. And he was dead because Percy snuck out of the house when he wasn't supposed to.

"Do you know what's happened here?" Gideon asked, in a way that made Percy feel dumb.

"Um…" Percy felt like he were in a test. "Uncle Fabian is dead."

"Yes, and you know who killed him?"

Percy looked at the Death Eaters on the floor and pointed towards there. "They did."

"No, no, Percy, they didn't. Think again," there was a crazed look in Gideon's eyes. "Think again. Tell me." He grabbed Percy's hand so tightly and squeezed it to the point where there were more bruises on it. "Tell me exactly what happened here." He paused. "You know what Uncle Fabian was looking at before he died?"

Percy nodded his head silently, feeling tears burn into his eyes. "I want to go to bed."

"Oh no, you little fucking rugrat," Gideon had never talked to him like that before. They were mates. They played Exploding Snap together sometimes. They went on broomstick rides. They played pranks together. "Your father is right about you, you know. You wreak havoc. You break all these rules and get everyone in trouble. You're never going to be good enough. All you're ever going to be is like me."

"I'm not like you," Percy shook his head. He'd never say those things to hurt someone. "I'm not like you."

"In what way are you not like me?" Gideon almost mocked.

"Don't hurt people." Percy shook his head. He felt like his heart was about to burst. "Don't hurt people," he grabbed his chest as tight as he could. "Don't feel good. I want to go to bed. I want to go to bed." His heart was racing so fast, and his chest felt like it were on fire. He didn't dare look down at his uncle on the ground. His mother would hate him forever. His father would never forgive him. Nobody would ever like him ever again.

"Don't hurt people?" Gideon found this even more laughable. "You killed my brother."

"No, no, no," Percy kept shaking his head. He was crying and sobbing. "That man hurt your brother. That man did," he was shaking all over the floor, his hands grabbing fistfuls of grass. He was kicking his legs all over the ground, like he did when he didn't get his way. When he didn't get an extra biscuit before dinner, or when his mum didn't pay enough attention to him. All of that looked like it was far away from then and now. That life felt like it were over.

Percy wished Gideon would stop talking. "Did he, Percy? And you didn't do anything naughty at all?"

He shook his head but kept his eyes closed. He couldn't dare look at his uncle on the ground. He couldn't dare face the sight of that lifeless, colourless body before him. It looked like it were cold and rubbery. "Promise that I'll be good," Percy wrapped his arms around himself, still shaking. "Promise that I'll be good."

"Promise?" Gideon replied back into a mocking tone, but then another jet of green light had hit him. Percy watched Gideon's body hit the ground, and that dark figure getting up. Percy's breathing was hitching. He thought he was going to die too, and that would be his punishment. For killing both his uncles.

But as he waited for death, it didn't come. Percy opened his eyes and through his bleary eyes, he watched the Death Eaters disappear. As if they were a figment of his imagination. The tears on Percy's face were drying, but it was like he couldn't move. The whole field smelled like cautery and death. He could feel the lifelessness in those bodies. They weren't ever going to move again. They were never going to hiccough again, no matter how many sweets he gave them. "Promise," Percy said to no one in particular.

He'd walked straight back inside, knowing that he'd done a very wrong thing. He knew that he shouldn't have left their bodies outside. He took a bath and changed by himself for the first time, even though he'd accidentally made the water a little too hot at first and then too cold. He'd thrown his dirty clothes into the fire and felt bad for it, but he never wanted to see those stained pyjamas again. He waited a while, but then he'd knocked onto his mum's door and told him that he hadn't seen Gideon or Fabian and if she knew where they were. (Liar, but just this one more time…)

The day of the funeral itself was bright and sunny. Percy hadn't gone, but his mum had gone out weeping and came back weeping. He'd spent the day looking for photographs of the funeral. It was an open casket service, and the funeral looked long and laborious. Percy started thrashing in the night, having horrible dreams of bad things happening because he'd done such a bad thing. By the time that the war had ended, and they'd moved to the Burrow, he'd started wetting the bed every night…

"Like what?" Ginny shook Fred out of his dream-like state.

"Oh," was all that Fred could say, because what else was he going to say? He'd told his parents all the bad news that he could about Percy, but somehow, that, even though it tied the whole story together, into a neat little bow—was beyond what Fred could even begin to articulate. He was unfocused and felt a chill run down his spine. Well, that explained everything. That explained why Percy was battling with two halves of himself. But he just couldn't believe that he'd never told anyone. He'd kept that as a secret all these years—even as an adult.

Fred felt like he'd run out of things to remember. His head felt heavy and everything else felt cumbersome. He wrapped his arms around himself. Percy, reliving his worst memory enacted with his twin brothers. He could see the similarities even from afar, of his own death, their death, mirrors of mirrors of mirrors. It was a stroke of either brilliance or sheer will that Percy hadn't snapped at that funeral.

"What did you remember now?" George finally said, prodding at Fred. "Fred?"

"There can't be any more than that," even Ron felt like it weren't possible.

"There is," Fred finally said. And if he couldn't say it, then how in Merlin's name did he expect that Percy would come around and explain that? "It makes sense," his voice felt scratchy and hoarse. Never in his life did would he say that he understood Percy, but at that moment, he did. How did you come out and say something like that? When was the time right? When did you feel comfortable enough to let out your deepest, darkest secret?

"What about?" George prodded.

"I don't know if I can…" Fred rubbed his neck. "I don't know how to say this."

"Seriously?" Bill found that laughable. "Yesterday, you told dad that Perce threw himself off a broom after they'd had that fight and cracked his skull open." Arthur flinched just at the memory. "It can't get any worse than that."

Fred didn't think it was 'worse' as much as it felt like… he didn't know how to describe it. It just left a bad taste in his mouth, trying to explain the sheer horror that a five-year-old went through before he'd changed into someone else.

Instead of Fred agreeing with Bill, he just shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Bill echoed incredulously.

Fred decided that now would be the best time to say something. He looked over at Molly for a few moments. He wondered how his facial expressions must look like on Percy's face. They must look foreign.

"No," Fred shook his head. "This one's on Percy." Then, in the same moment, he'd said, "I think…"

"Yeah?" Ron prodded at his shoulder.

"I think this is it," the second that Fred said it, the second that he knew it was true. "I think I have to go back."

"Go back?" George grabbed his hand.

Fred nodded his head. This was really the end for him. He had nothing else to add to this, and he'd heard everything that he'd needed to hear. Angelina had loved him. George was going to be okay. Their family was going to get through this, and he believed them when they told him that they would. "I'm dead, George." And it was the first time that he'd said those words that not only did he really believe it, but he'd accepted it.

"Yeah," George's voice cracked. He didn't look so certain about Fred going away now that it was happening. It felt like it was coming out of nowhere.

Fred, in his slightly stuporous state, smiled. Everything finally made sense. He'd watched Percy's life practically come together in front of his eyes. Like a blanket that was being stitched in black, grey and white. There was some colour there as well. If not for the fact that Percy owned more colourful pants than anyone else in the family.

"It sucks," Fred admitted.

"Yeah," George agreed, grabbing his hand. "Fred, I just want to say…"

"You don't have to say anything," Fred cut him off. Whatever George wanted to say. That he loved him, that he was going to do good, that he was going to miss him, that he still felt like a part of him was still missing and probably always would. He knew all of that. "I know."

"Yeah," George nodded his head, biting back his lower lip.

"Audrey," Fred figured that she'd be able to bring Percy back. He got up from his bed, still in his half-stupor. He still felt uneasy and then looked at his mum. "Mum," he said, as if it was the first time that he'd seen her since he'd been brought back.

Molly shook her head, tears starting to pool into her eyes. Fred had decided to choose her.

He'd grabbed her hand and grasped it as soft as he could before he took her to the kitchen. His hands were warm and sweaty, his hairline was damp, but his heart felt steady. When they were in the kitchen, Fred closed his eyes, leaned down to her ear. "Mum, please…please don't say anything," he'd instructed.

"Okay," Molly said. Fred didn't move his mouth away from his mum's ear. He was whispering, almost like he didn't want anyone else to know. Then he told her everything that he knew. He'd stitched together a portrait for his mum—you know, she was a good knitter. She'd be able to smooth out the pieces and figure things out. He'd told her about five-year-old Percy, eleven-year-old Percy, sixteen-year-old Percy in the lake, the fight, the funeral, what he was really doing. He'd said it all and somehow, he'd managed to do it in what felt like minutes.

Fred pulled back after he was done telling that story, feeling both more exhausted than he had in ages, and also more relieved than he had in ages. Molly was just stood there, looking stunned, with tears running down her cheeks.

"Mum," Fred grabbed her hands and squeezed them as tight as possible, lovingly caressing the space between her thumbs. "Mum, please take care of him." Then he shook his head and felt tears welling up in my eyes. "You know, Perce is technically a third twin, you know. Because I was just…"

He'd shared a body with Percy. That had to account for something.

Molly hugged him, holding him so tightly. He breathed in the scent of his mum's hair, the warmth of her, and then decided that he could very happily die like that. Being loved by the people that loved him.

He went upstairs to Percy's room afterwards and wrote a lengthy letter, explaining everything. Explained that he'd told mum everything. Fred wasn't sure about the grammar mistakes and knew that it was written pretty poorly. Audrey hung over him and read everything, but he could tell that her eyes had widened at some parts that he'd explained. Fred looked up at Audrey and smiled at her. "Are you ready to get your husband back?"

Audrey looked a little stunned but then nodded her head quite frantically. She paused as if to consider how that probably looked like. "Not that I want you to be deceased, of course…but I do miss my husband."

"I am deceased," Fred reminded her with a raise of an eyebrow. "But there's a little Fred in there," he pointed to her pregnant belly, to which Audrey just shook her head. "Tell Perce if he gets a bloke, he better name it Fred."

"Percy and I are not having children anywhere in the future," Audrey reminded him. "Besides, I prefer George."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, yes, I would. Georgette for a girl."

"This is awful," Fred pouted, feeling his shoulders slouch. "Tell Perce I can't be bothered to find another piece of parchment to finish this, but tell him I love him, or whatever it is that you're supposed to say to the bloke that let you rent his body." He looked down at Percy's body, really looked at it for the first time since he'd had it. "Think I've put on half a stone since he'd lent it to me actually." Percy's stomach was much softer than normal. "You'd think he'd put on weight in places where he actually needs, like his chicken legs, but…well, you know."

Audrey just shook her head in disbelief. "Are you ready?" she'd pulled her wand out. She looked a little shaken herself. "Do you think you want to do anything one last time before you go?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"What?"

"I just…" Fred wasn't exactly going to go look for his ex-girlfriend now. He let his shoulder slump a little. "Well, I just want to kiss a bird just one more time before I croak again." He thought that Audrey would tell him off for being an arsehole and taking advantage of a situation, but instead, she'd leaned forward and kissed him. And when she did, Fred felt like he melted. There were butterflies in his stomach, and he felt a tingling in his hands. Fred was a little breathless after the kiss, and when the memories started flooding in, Fred tried to think of just anything else, because he at least wanted to keep their nocturnal activities private. Even if he did catch a glimpse of something rather interesting…

"Satisfied?" Audrey asked.

"Very."

Fred thought that this really was it when Audrey had put her wand up, but then he'd heard a knock on the door. There were his family members all squished together in that tiny hallway. George was looking at him with those glossy eyes.

He nodded his head. "Um, Fred…" George let one a shaky hand wave to him. "Everything's gonna be okay."

Fred knew that, but to hear it was really nice. "Promise?" then he felt himself shiver, remembering Percy and Gideon.

"Promise," George answered back, with a stern nod to his head. "Better than ever."

Fred liked the sound of that. He turned to Audrey and nodded her head. He really hoped that this was going to work. He closed his eyes, and the last thing he could remember before Audrey started waving around her wand and saying all sorts of complicated charms was that he really was happy. And if Percy was there to see him off again, he'd like to think he'd say something important. Like how he'd ruined his stationary and he couldn't even read the handwriting on this 'heart-warming letter' of his. Fred smiled, genuinely smiled, and thought that his coffin better be one of those velvet crushed interiors that smelled consistently of candy floss.

You'll be okay, Fred thought, and he really was thinking of his whole family, of Lee, of Angelina. Then he tried to stifle back a laugh because he'd forgotten to tell Lee he'd be going back. They were going to do one last episode of Potterwatch, complete with the raunchiest jokes that Fred could think of.

He thought of all the things that he'd wanted to do that he hoped that George would do instead of him. Of places that he'd wanted to travel to, things that he'd wanted to see, dishes that he'd wanted to eat, but it didn't bring him any longing. He felt like George knew all the things that he'd wanted to do. He felt like maybe next time, George would be the one that was telling his story from top to bottom. And Fred felt like maybe he'd have a couple of his own too.

This was better than being crushed under a couple of rocks that was for sure.