this was a double update. i posted chapter 13 and the epilogue at the same time, so... this story is complete, just to mention. thank you all for following the story. and hope to see you for future stories too.


Stay A Day in My Coffin

Chapter Fourteen

The End (Epilogue)


"Happy birthday, Perce."

Well, it better bloody be, George had thought. Because it took him ages to convince the staff that he did not have anything dangerous with him coming in. They had run every single spell around his cake box. The longer it took, the more that George wanted to throttle them. Not that the rest of the family was pleased either, having to be screened. They'd confiscated their wands, watches and even Ron's new packet of Exploding Snap cards! What did they think that Percy was going to do with that? It was a bloody children's game!

"Happy birthday," Percy reiterated sarcastically. "It's a bloody disastrous birthday." No matter how often George saw Percy in the hospital gown, he still looked funny.

"Do you see me celebrating in here?" Percy asked. His room was filled to the brim with books he'd already read, as well as pieces of artwork that he'd created during his therapy. Looked like Percy wasn't meant to become a portrait artist after all. He couldn't tell what it was that he'd been making, and probably wouldn't be able to if his shop dependent on it. "Do you see anything worth celebrating?"

"Well, it's a nice colour," Arthur mentioned. "The room." It was bright pink, shocking flamingo pink.

"Looks like Umbridge's headquarters," Ginny decided to mumble.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, do you know what we had to go through to get here? All of us?" Ron asked.

"Ronald!" Molly looked surprised at this. Audrey just snickered. They'd usually let them in one by one. George was sure that Azkaban had less security than where Percy was 'institutionalised'—but Angelina had always told him that probably wasn't the 'nice' term to use. "Aw, love, there's plenty worth celebrating! This is a beautiful place."

"Beautiful?" Percy looked around his obnoxiously pink room, which was brighter and more vibrant the more you looked at it. Hard to believe that Percy didn't burn his eyes out looking at the place for too long. He picked up the pot of custard that he had on his small table. Looked like Fleur's diet custard. "The food here is horrible."

George just shrugged. "You don't look malnourished, Perce."

"Oh, piss off."

"That's a bad word, Percy," Ginny joined in.

Percy crammed his mouth full of custard. Imagine coming back home nearly a year ago to tell his mum that they'd taken Percy to the hospital, and he was staying there indefinitely. There was a lot of both anger and relief when Percy was admitted. The more that Percy had been there, the more he complained. But he did genuinely seem in better spirits. Not all the time, of course, but generally better than usual. He no longer dodged the question and talked about how rubbish he felt like all the time, which George was seeing as progress. Audrey came by almost every day. For some reason, they let her in, but when George came by, he'd have to go through a five-step analysis to verify that he really was related to the bloke that also had red hair and freckled skin. Also had to somehow prove that he wasn't carrying anything that could kill him!

Blimey, was that the kind of vibe that he gave off?!

George quickly found out that Percy didn't do too well when you asked him how he was doing all the time, but in enough time, if you acted like everything was just peachy keen, he'd talk about it himself. He hadn't told him a lot of the stuff that Fred had, but it was so different hearing about it in Percy's words. It hit harder somehow, even when Percy was telling those stories whilst they ate a bit of Thai curry and summer rolls. Percy kept saying that he really was going to go spare if he had to drink another 'nutritional supplement' that tasted like chalk, so George usually snuck him in something to eat that didn't have 'all the vitamins ever!' enriched into it.

When Percy talked about how he'd felt like when he was growing up, George wished he knew what to say.

What did you say when you realised that your brother had been growing up virtually all by himself, going through things you'd never even thought that he'd ever feel? But they were talking now, and that was good enough for him. Percy talked to George, to Ron, to Ginny, to his mum and dad. And to his wife, of course, but he'd supposed she already knew everything anyway. He'd event sent long letters to Bill and Charlie. He could see some of them poking out of his dresser, pages long. It reminded him of when they were first-years and they used to write every single thing out in as much detail as they could because everything was so new and exciting and a little scary too. He'd imagine Percy would be more terrified than excited. This was the first time he'd ever been admitted to the hospital like this. George would like to believe that it was the last time too, but he didn't know what the future would be like. All he knew was right now, Percy was finally talking to them.

"Where are my presents then?" Percy asked.

"Wow, you know being treated in here has turned you into such an arsehole," Ron mumbled.

"It's my birthday," Percy reminded him. "Is it that presumptuous of me to assume I'll be getting gifts?"

"They took them," Molly said with a flush to her cheeks. "Said they needed 'further inspection'."

Percy really did look good. George knew that didn't mean anything, but he looked comfortable sat there, eating custard at the bed. There was no way that the old Percy would be eating anything on the bed. He'd have been sat at the desk in Auror-like precision, slowly taking mouthful after mouthful. And there was no way that he'd be talking with his mouth open because he was too bothered and uptight about how uncouth he looked like—well, he still did that, but George supposed that it was still better than usual.

"Mum's right," George said, and then Percy eyed him carefully. "What?"

"What have you smuggled in?" Percy placed his hands on his knees and waited for him to give in.

"I've not smuggled anything in," George stood his ground.

Percy looked like he didn't believe him. "Nothing at all?" he'd asked. Before George could answer, Percy reached into his coat pocket and grabbed what was a small wisp of an envelope tucked into his jacket.

"HEY!" George yelled.

Percy leaned back into his bed and then toyed with the envelope. He was learning from Fred, that arsehole.

"I bought that," George finally said."For you. Thought that was the only way I could smuggle anything in this bloody prison... to let you know, anyway."

Percy opened the envelope and then pulled out the leaflet. It was for a shiny, new broomstick. George could recognise the almost child-like excitement in his eyes and the healthy flush into his cheeks. George was sure that Molly was going to kill them if she knew that George had decided to give Percy a broom. But when Percy was talking to him about broomstick racing last week, there was something in him that just lit up. He really liked it. George bet he liked other things too. Things that he deserved to get a real chance at. To talk about doing instead of doing it in the dark.

"What is it?" Molly asked.

"Book coupon to Flourish and Blott's," Percy answered without a beat. George was surprised at how easy it was for him to lie sometimes. Percy looked at George and smiled. An all-knowing smile. Almost like they were sharing a secret. George shivered, because the last time he'd seen one of those, it was on Fred.

He wondered if Percy liked to play Quidditch.