A/N: Hey, y'all… Long time no see. This is the first time I've written anything HP in a long time, so just… be gentle with me.

Egyptology Task 9: Write about newlyweds.

WC: 1358

WARNINGS: Some drinking, nothing graphic.

Enjoy!

It wasn't that Percy wasn't happy for his brother. He truly was. Truly.

He just hadn't ever expected to be at his little brother's wedding reception, firewhiskey in hand, without a ring on his own finger.

He tried to smile thinly out at the crowd in case someone happened to glance his way, but he worried it came off as more of a grimace. There was something uncomfortable twisting in his gut, preventing him from truly enjoying the festivities. Any other night, Percy might have been engaged in conversation with another guest, maybe a little less than sober, rolling his eyes as he witnessed George trying to convince Charlie to drink something stronger than butterbeer.

Tonight, Percy was seated firmly at a table, separated from the mingling guests and brave dancers. From his vantage point, Percy could see Ron's hair, tousled from his attempts at dancing bobbing up and behind the crowd; someone shifted a little to the left, and then Percy could see his youngest brother's face in full. Ron was grinning so widely it looked like his face was about to crack wide open, but there was a softer excitement shining in his blue eyes as he gazed at Hermione—his wife, now—who was attempting a timid, but much more successful, dance. And there, glinting on Ron's left hand, a band of silver.

Percy's gaze fell to his own hand: bare. He swallowed thickly. Growing up, he'd of course thought about what the future might hold for him and his siblings, and marriage was never something he'd left out. Well, except maybe for Charlie, who'd never needed a romantic connection to feel whole. But Bill, George, Ron, Ginny—they'd all dated in school. Some relationships had been more successful than others (Percy fully suspected that Hermione had been the first person Ron had ever had a successful relationship with), but they'd seemed to stumble upon the right partners in the end.

George had finally asked out Angelina Johnson. Ginny was still going steady with Harry. And now, Ron had married Hermione.

These outcomes weren't surprising. Percy had expected them, even. It had just never crossed his mind that his younger brothers might say their vows before he did.

Now, watching his little brother dance with the woman he loved, Percy couldn't help feeling out of place. It wasn't jealousy; it was longing. He wanted what Ron had found, and he didn't understand why it was taking him so long to find it.

His thoughts were interrupted as the groom himself fumbled his way through the crowd and fell into the chair next to Percy. Ron looked out of breath, flushed from forehead to neck—but extremely pleased.

"Hey, Perce—this is—I—wow."

Eloquent, but Percy didn't comment on it. Instead, he raised his half-empty glass to his brother. "Congratulations, Ron," he said, sincerely but maybe a little stiffly; not that Ron noticed. He was too high on his own happiness. Percy tried not to ignore the stab of loneliness.

Ron was beaming at him, though, so Percy poured the groom a glass. Ron took it without hesitation, but was too distracted to actually take a sip. "She—she said yes."

Percy quirked his brow over his glass as he drank his whiskey. "She said yes several months ago."

Instead of the annoyed glance Percy half-expected (although, that might have been more reminiscent of teenage Ron), Ron chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah," he admitted, "but sometimes I still can't believe it. I didn't know I could be this happy, you know?"

And it wasn't said maliciously. It was an honest statement, innocently made, but it gripped Percy around the heart and squeezed. He wanted that. He wanted it so badly, and how was it that Ron, George, and Ginny had all found people to love in school, when they were so young? Had he missed something? Missed someone?

He was sitting alone at his brother's wedding reception, trying to smile at a man in love even when the chasm between them widened its gaping maw. He inhaled shakily and poured himself another finger of firewhiskey—he'd need it to get through the evening.

"I'm glad you came," Ron said suddenly, and Percy paused in his motions. His relationship with Ron had never been perfect, but in their adulthood they'd managed to come to an understanding of each other. That Ron had even considered there to be a sliver of a chance that Percy wouldn't come to his wedding—it filled Percy with shame.

"I wouldn't miss this," he said softly, eyes cast on the tablecloth. He adjusted his glasses with the hand that wasn't holding his drink, mostly to keep busy. "I'm proud of you, Ron. You've found something great."

There must have been a tinge of bitterness in his words, because now Ron was looking over at him with uncharacteristic perceptiveness. "Did you come alone?" he asked, and someone else might have found his direct line of questioning callous, but Percy had never appreciated skirting around topics. It was something he and Ron had always shared. "I thought you were seeing that Ravenclaw—Clearwater? Penelope Clearwater—again."

Ah. Flashes of blonde hair and slamming doors swam in front of Percy's eyes. "I was." The finality was so clear that even Ron immediately picked it up.

His brother winced, flushing pink from embarrassment now instead of joy; Percy hated he'd been the cause of it. "Ah. Sorry, mate, that's… sorry."

Percy wasn't sure what to say. He didn't really want to pretend he was fine, but he loathed the thought of bringing down the evening's atmosphere more than he already had. Tonight was about celebration, and all he could do was regret and long. Stalling, he took a swig of his drink, but it didn't provide him with an appropriate response. Perhaps luckily, his new sister-in-law chose that moment to make her appearance.

"Really, Ron," he heard her scold (even as she muffled her laughter), "you're just going to abandon me on the dance floor? I barely escaped Fleur, and I think your mother wants a word next."

"Mum loves you," was Ron's reply, but even though he stood obediently he cast a hesitant glance Percy's way. This was the new Ron—a man who understood that people weren't black and white, and that situations were often more complex than they were made out to be. It was clear he was reluctant to leave his older brother alone with his thoughts, but Percy had occupied enough of his time.

"Don't leave your wife waiting, Ron." He smirked, watching as the words your wife struck Ron in a peculiar way, something ecstatic and almost disbelieving crossing his face at once.

"I'll send Bill," Ron decided as he began to follow Hermione back into the crowd of people. It made sense; Bill was the eldest of the Weasley children, and he'd always been the one to pick up their pieces. He was probably the sibling Percy was closest to.

He just nodded, but had no intention of waiting for Bill. He finished off his drink and decided to look for Fleur; it was getting late enough that Victoire and Dominique should be taken home, and Percy had no issue with using his nieces for a tactical escape, all under the guise of doing his brother and sister-in-law a favor. Besides, he loved those two girls—he didn't mind watching them for the remainder of the night.

Lucky for him, Fleur had had a little too much wine to pick up on his less-than-chipper mood. She gratefully agreed to letting the girls go home with him, and he walked his nieces over to the Floo stationed conveniently at the back of the hall, not wanting to risk Apparation right after his drink. Right before he left, he glanced once more over his shoulder, searching for—he wasn't sure. What he found was Hermione standing on her tip-toes to peck Ron on the cheek—very innocent, just a casual show of love. Percy watched them a second longer before ushering the girls into the Floo.

He tried to ignore his heavy heart as the emerald flames engulfed him, but he couldn't escape the tightness in his chest.