His sister...
Percy had vivid memories of accompanying his Uncles Fabian and Gideon, along with his other siblings, to St. Mungos where Mum was laying on the hospital bed, with a thin coat of sweat on her and a sweet but exhausted smile on her lips. Dad was beside her, peering down at the tiny baby curled up in the swaddle. Ginny had been positively tiny.
He got to hold her that day as well. He was seated on the couch, keeping himself absolutely still as his parents instructed. Dad put Ginny into his arms; she was soundly sleeping. Percy had been unable to believe this was his new sister. A sister! He loved his brothers plenty, of course he did, but she was brand new and exciting. And she didn't smell like his-or rather, their-brothers. He made a promise, not only to himself but to his parents and uncles, too, that he would be the best big brother ever and protect her.
He failed on that promise.
Miserably.
This wasn't the first time he had such thoughts. As a child, Percy believed that because of him, Ginny would never get hurt at all. Bruises, scrapes and slightly bloody elbows and knees left him in dismay. He tried keeping a tight rein on her, only allowing her to go in places like the outside or in the attic when he was able to be with her. But Ginny didn't appreciate his efforts as he came to learn. She was rambunctious and curious and despised even at a young age being tied down by him. That was the first couple of years during which she was a toddler. He understood better once they both became older and his parents sat him down for a talk to instill in him that he needn't be that protective of her.
But this was worse.
Much, much worse than a skinned knee or bruised elbow.
His baby sister was...
She was...
She was likely dead at this point or soon would be. The thought made him feel physically ill.
Ginny would miss out on all of her important milestones. He'd never see her grow older, never see her go on her first date or graduate from Hogwarts. He'd never watch as she went on to become the extraordinary person he knew she would be in whatever career field she found herself in. There would be no wedding or children.
He'd never get to see her smile again or hug her.
At that point, he wanted to cry. He didn't do it often. He wasn't terribly sensitive and prone to bursting into tears at the slightest problem. But this, this was enough to make his chest ache and eyes burn.
But he pulled himself together. Just barely so.
He had to be strong, Percy reminded himself. He had to be. Fred, George, Ron, those three needed him. They needed him to be rational and of a sound mind. He couldn't afford to be broken now. Someone had to be there for them. And someone had to write to Mum and Dad to inform them of the situation; to Bill and Charlie too. They didn't know. None of them. They were likely off living life and being happy, all while unbeknownst to them that this nightmare was slowly unfolding itself.
He imagined his parents were at home, sipping on tea and Dad was reading the newspaper. They were enjoying one of the many quiet evenings they would have this year, now that all of their children were either out of the house or at school. Bill was working, doing something productive. Charlie, he figured, was wrangling one of the dragons and trying to get it to cooperate.
While Percy was sitting in the common room in one of the chairs in the back, frozen and feeling utterly helpless.
Fred and George were there as well. They were huddled with the three chasers from the quidditch team. They most definitely weren't acting like their usual selves. They were quiet and somber looking. Percy had never seen them that way except for extremely rare occasions and he didn't want to see it ever again. Ron, he didn't see anywhere. But he was probably upstairs in his dorm. He was never the greatest at dealing with his emotions. The last thing he'd ever want anyone to see is for someone to witness him crying.
Oliver was with Percy, offering some soothing words here and there. But they fell flat each time. For what a great friend he was-and he was the best-he was rubbish at comforting people. Percy appreciated it anyway, knowing the keeper was doing his best.
"I'm sure it'll be okay," Oliver spoke up again, patting Percy on the shoulder. "Your sister's a feisty one, I've heard. She'll be alright. She's got to be."
Sure, sure all that might've been true.
But would she?
Would she be able to make it? Would she fight her hardest and claw her way back out or would it be too much for her?
"I hope so," Percy's voice was tight with the painful lump in his throat.
Oliver frowned and while he wasn't a touchy feely type, he did lean over to give the red-head a one armed hug. He didn't say anything else as Percy gripped his arm, struggling to keep the guilt at bay when it was threatening to overwhelm him.
It was his fault. All his fault. He should have paid closer attention to her. She was more important than his grades or Penelope or being a Prefect. But he hadn't. He hadn't cared like he should have. And now, she was going to die and it was all his fault.
He rose to his feet, taking in a shaky deep breath. Oliver was still sitting, glancing up at him, questioningly. "I'm just going to see Fred and George," Percy said in regards to the keeper's unasked inquiry. He heaved a sigh. "Just to make sure they're okay."
He approached them and the three girls, unable to muster up even a half hearted smile. He cleared his dry throat, effectively grabbing their attention. "Can I have a moment with Fred and George, please?" he said quietly.
The girls exchanged a look amongst themselves, slowly rising from where they sat on the couch and walking away over to where Oliver was. They were still looking ahead at the twins, sorrowful eyes and all.
Percy sat down next to George, who was trying to hide that he was sniffling. Fred was beside him, naturally; looking down at his hands, repeatedly swallowing. Percy shut his eyes, wishing he knew the correct thing to say. But there was no textbook correct answer because these things didn't just happen to people.
"She's going to die, isn't she?" George's voice was barely a whisper, barely audible even in the relatively silent common room. Fred was clenching his hands into fists.
Percy blanched. He didn't want to admit that it was a strong possibility. He needed to be positive. "I'm sure there's no need to worry. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore is working on a plan to retrieve her right now-"
"Just tell me," George cut him off, the expression on his face was raw. The fear he was showing was raw and pointed. "Stop trying to be like mum and just tell me-tell us. Do you think she'll die or not?"
Percy couldn't speak for a moment. "I...I don't know," he finally confessed.
"What if she does?" Fred was stricken with fear now, pale as a porcelain sink. "It'll be all our fault. We haven't seen much of her this year. I didn't think..."
"We're awful brothers," George was shaking his head. "We're such gits! How could we not have done something about this? She might not have been taken if we paid more attention to her."
"She's going to die," Fred breathed. "She'll die and it'll be all our fault."
In that moment, Percy did something he hadn't done in a long time; he maneuvered around, tears beginning to sting his eyes. "Come here," he told them and pulled his younger brothers into his arms. He held them with the tightest grip imaginable, his face leaning down into their hair.
He didn't cry. He didn't start to openly weep which in turn would've set them as well. They just sat there in that semi uncomfortable position for who knows how long. Not many words were exchanged but they didn't have to be.
"It's going to be okay," His voice cracked. He kept it low enough so no one else heard him. "Whatever happens, it'll be okay. It always is."
He hadn't expected Fred or George to burst into tears, but one of them did. George's body trembled, holding onto Percy as if his life depended on it. Fred was the lesser sensitive type but he wasn't fooled, he knew that his younger brother was hurting just as much. He simply preferred not to show it. Percy knew George would rather not let the whole common room know he was crying, so quietly he whispered soothing words to calm him down. It worked, sort of.
"I promise you both everything's going to be okay," he said with a sense of determination that he didn't feel.
Fred, always the stubborn one, said, "You don't know that! You can't say that!" His voice was muffled by Percy's uniform.
He was right, to an extent. Promises were useless at this point.
"I'm being optimistic," Percy said calmly. "I'm sure Ginny's going to come out of that chamber and everything will be alright again. And if-when she does, we'll take this as an opportunity to be better brothers."
If they were able to have the opportunity. Percy wasn't so sure.
George nodded against him. Fred didn't, but that was alright. They stayed like that for a few more seconds until Percy's arms couldn't hold on to them any longer and he let go. George glanced at him, then looked away. "Thanks, Perce," he murmured. Fred echoed his twin's statement.
Percy squeezed his shoulder in response.
"Do Mum and Dad know yet?" Fred's surprisingly timid voice spoke up. "Have you told them?"
Percy's heart dropped again. He'd momentarily forgotten all about that. "No," he buried his face in the palms of his hands. "I don't know how."
"Do you want any help?" It came unexpectedly from George.
"No," Percy appreciated the offer. He really did but this was a task that he needed to do. Not burden his younger brothers with. "It's alright. I've got it."
How was one supposed to start this kind of letter in the first place? A greeting, a wish that they were well and then get on with it? Should he just skip the greeting and admit that he screwed up horribly and this happened? Percy was known for being collected, calm and knowing what to do. But this wasn't like all those other times. He didn't know what to do now. It wasn't a good feeling. He didn't like feeling vulnerable.
"On...on second thought," Percy exhaled and the twins were looking in his direction again. In that moment, they pushed aside any hard feelings between them, coming together during a time of difficulty.
"Some help would be nice right about now."