How Do You Solve a Problem Like Fergus?
Ron sat with Tommy on the wooden bench in Embankment gardens, watching as Lee and Fergus sprawled out in the blazing sun-–the latter burning quite badly, and enjoyed the shade.
Ron didn't think he needed anymore freckles and he knew for a fact he'd burn worse than Fergus if he tried to sunbathe so he sat watching Tommy lazily kicking out at pigeons strutting too closely in the hope of being thrown some food.
When the pigeons weren't scrounging or strutting like Lockhart with a broomstick shoved up his arse, they were trying to mount each other.
When Ron snorted with laughter the first time he saw a particular pigeon puffing out his chest and putting on a show before a disinterested female, Lee sat up to see what was so amusing. The male pounced, wobbled unsteadily on the female's back for a second before she threw him off and flew away, seeming quite annoyed.
"No means no!" Ron had chuckled at the flustered-looking bird.
Lee gave him, Ron, not the pigeon, one of his 'not funny' looks and Ron's smile faded and he stared off in the other direction until Lee had settled back down again.
Lee was all for making the most of the sun. Fergus just wanted to sleep off his hangover and Tommy just seemed to enjoy the company. Ron was there because he had no idea where else he was supposed to be. Harry had made it pretty clear he wasn't comfortable being alone with him, at least not alone and talking seriously about things, so sitting with three people who weren't going to run away from him rather than talk was a decent option.
His present status was 'getting better', 'recovering', 'getting back on his feet' and all sorts of other things that meant unemployed and directionless.
A little way away from Lee and Fergus was the sign they were both ignoring. It was a small round sign on the end of a short stick with neat white, carefully hand painted, letters on it.
'Please keep to the path'
The sign made Ron think about his own path and where it led. What if it took him somewhere he didn't want to go? Who was setting out the route anyway? Had he surrendered his whole future to just have the quiet life from now on?
Of course, the sign may just have been politely directing people not to walk on the sodding grass.
Merlin, he hated how introspective this whole mess had made him. Even keep off the grass signs were speaking to him personally. Just as he smiled ruefully to himself, Tommy turned to share a similar meaningful smile before Lee muttered something and Fergus huffed and propped himself up on his elbows.
"Well, take yer bleedin' shirt off then, ya great prat!"
Lee scowled at Fergus and then looked down at the grass mumbling just loud enough for Ron to make out.
"I can't take it off, can I?"
"Why not?" Ron called across the pathway to him.
Lee's dark brown eyes rolled in Ron's direction and fixed upon him fiercely.
"Don't you start as well."
"Seriously," Ron said, knowing what the problem was but doing a damn good job of pretending he didn't, "if you're hot then take it off. That's what makes us different from women, y'know? We don't have to hide anything from the waist up."
"Unless you have a third nipple, of course," Tommy mused aloud.
"Hey Jordan," Fergus chuckled, "ye got any extra nipples there ya shouldn't have?"
"No, but I do have less skin than I'm meant to thank you very much and I'd rather not draw attention to it if that's alright with all of you?" Lee snapped.
The four of them froze and shared an uncomfortably long silence before a helicopter flew overhead. Tommy had explained that it was a traffic chopper for the local radio station, a statement that meant absolutely nothing to Ron, but he had smiled and nodded all the same. Lee huffed and lay back down while Fergus gazed edgily over to Tommy and Ron on the bench.
"They're nothing to be ashamed of, Lee." Tommy said, his voice practically making Ron jump clean off the bench after all that weighty silence.
"Scars don't tan anyway, so what's the point?" Lee spoke into the grass beneath him.
"So correct me if I'm wrong here," Fergus said as he sat all the way up now to stare at Lee as if he was completely do-lally, "are you tellin' us you're laying out here to get some colour?"
Tommy snorted, Fergus' mouth turned upwards into a smile and Ron bit his lip to hold in his own exclamation as Lee lifted his head and struggled not to laugh. Ron pulled at his own t-shirt and grinned cockily.
"I'd take mine off but I wouldn't wanna blind people."
That did it. Lee was laughing and Fergus joined in with his throaty cackle.
"Oh, please take off your shirt, Lee," Tommy joked in a pleading manner. "If I sit next to him while he's topless, he'll drain all the colour out of me as well!"
Lee rolled his eyes and awkwardly pulled off his shirt. Ron saw the light pink scarring all over Lee's back briefly before the dreadlocked sunbather rolled over and laid on his back, lean brown chest facing skyward.
Ron swallowed as he thought about why Lee had lost all the skin from his back at the hands of the Puppet Master and his belt buckle.
"Hey, Lee..." Ron began.
Lee's head lifted and angled to look at Ron and he was smiling.
"It was worth it."
"What do we do with all the memories, Mad-Eye?" Tonks asked as she picked a small phial out of the large wooden rack in the middle of the table and watched the silvery liquid shimmer in the light.
"Well, the memories are the property of the boys so..." Moody shrugged uncomfortably, stomping on his false leg past the table and over to the open door of the evidence room to make sure nobody was lurking around.
The press had requested to see some of the memories submitted by the Venlo survivors in place of testimony at the trial. When they were refused, they set about trying to get hold of the phials using more devious methods. After one particular hired thief was apprehended with all of Ron's memories in his possession, the Wizengamot ruled that the memories either be returned to the witnesses or destroyed.
"What are we supposed to do, Mad-Eye?" Tonks huffed and ran her hand through her bright yellow hair, turning it mauve in the process. "Are we going to go to Ron and say, hey there how are you doing, would you like that pure, undiluted memory of being sexually assaulted poured back into your head?"
"But that memory is his to decide what to do with," Moody said gruffly. "We have no right to destroy it without his permission."
Tonks worried her lip between her teeth until it flapped like a diving board above her chin and she sucked it back into shape with a huff.
"I just don't want to have to bring any of them this decision right now. You do know Finnigan got arrested again the other night, don't you?"
"Know?" Moody's real eye bulged. "I'm the one who bailed him out, not easy that, me in a Muggle police station!"
"And that bastard is still harassing Ron to come and visit him in Azkaban. Remus told me the other day."
"Yes, well, we know what that's about, selfish swine, but like I said Tonks, this problem isn't going to go away. Best deal with it now while feelings are still raw than wait for them to recover and then open up old wounds again."
Tonks sighed and nodded sadly. She slotted the phial back into position. It was labelled 'Thomas Painter – memory of hanging torture of Ronald Weasley and execution of Daniel Prang.'
"Is this ever going to be over for them, Mad-Eye?"
Moody looked at her with both eyes and then turned to leave without a word.
Tommy had insisted that Fergus talk to them somewhere other than a pub, a suggestion that took some persuading, and the Irishman had become instantly defensive with the three of them until he let fly with an outburst in the middle of Wheezes.
"Look, I'm not an alchie okay? I'm not drinking because my poor, enfeebled mind can't stop me but because I feckin' want to, alright? I. Feel. Like. It!"
Lee shushed Fergus and pulled him around the back and over to the stairs that led to the twins' flat above the shop. He'd sent a Patronus ahead to make sure they didn't mind them showing up to hash this out; nobody wanted a confrontation at their family home but they didn't much want to get it done in public either, and Fred and George had been instantly accommodating.
"Get up those stairs and don't you bloody well upset my brother, got it?" George said as he helped Lee shove the grumbling Fergus up the stairs.
Fred tugged on Ron's sleeve and then threw something small and orange at him before winking.
"It's got a Cheering Charm on it, little bro," Fred explained just loud enough for Tommy to overhear. "Thought it might do something to calm the stutter when it gets away from you...might not but worth a try, eh?"
"I've got speech therapy for tha-" Ron began to say as he rolled the small, furry ball around in his large palm doubtfully.
"And it's working brilliantly, Ronniekins, but not very fast, eh?" Fred smiled before turning back to look at Verity getting overwhelmed in the busy shop by herself. "Look, I've got to get back to work but if you feel things are getting away from you, just give it a squeeze and it'll send a Cheering Charm through you and lighten the load a bit, okay?"
Ron nodded and turned to follow on up the stairs.
"Nice to see you out of the house, Ron!" Fred called but Ron didn't seem to have heard him.
Tommy turned to Fred and grinned at him.
"Great idea, that…good to see you again, Geo...Fred?"
Fred laughed and gave Tommy a slap on the shoulder and jogged away to take charge of the till before Verity burst into tears.
Tommy took the stairs two at a time and caught up with Ron just as George was passing him at the top of the stairs and looking him in the eyes intently.
"You alright?" he asked in a low mumble.
"I would be if people stopped asking me that," Ron replied sarcastically.
George smirked and shouldered Ron into the wall as he passed by. Ron sniggered a little bit and then he and Tommy stepped through to the living room where Lee was standing before a tetchy Fergus, who had his arms folded across his chest.
"I can't believe yer doing this, treatin' me like an auld wino or somethin'," Fergus huffed before dropping himself down into a squashy armchair that immediately made a farting sound.
Lee snorted and rolled his eyes as the chair began to speak in Fred's voice 'Get your fat arse off me! This is Fred's chair!' and Ron gestured to the sofa with a smile of resignation.
"The sofa doesn't heckle if you wanna sit, Fergus."
"No, I don't wanna sit!" Fergus snapped as he got up again and glared at them all. "I wanna spend some time wi' me mates and have a laugh and not have teh deal with all the crap our families are rubbin' in our faces."
"Well, we can't have a bloody laugh with you when your drunk, Fergus! You're no bloody fun!" Lee said as he waved his arms animatedly.
"Oh, I am sorry, Jordan!" Fergus said melodramatically before flailing his arms around while he did a ridiculous looking jig around the living room. "Here I am, here's fun Fergus for yeh--tell the clown what to do, boys!"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Lee huffed and dug his fingers into his dreads and massaged his scalp in frustration.
"Fergus, we don't want you to entertain us, we just want you to stop hiding from us in bars and brushing us off every day because you've got a hangover," Tommy explained as he sat on the arm of the sofa and then got tipped off and onto the sofa cushions.
'Don't you know what bit's for sitting on, you twit?' George's voice mocked from the piece of furniture.
"Oh, we're gonna have a great chat in here, aren't we?" Fergus rolled his eyes. "What's next? Is the coffee table gonna stamp on me foot?"
Ron moved across the room and gripped Fergus by the shoulders, walking him backwards back into Fred's chair and forcing him down into it. A soon as Fred's voice piped up again Ron slammed his hands down onto the armrests and two dust clouds billowed up.
"An arse is an arse and Fred's not ge-getting any so stop complaining!" he ordered the armchair.
'I'll tell him you said that' the armchair sang smugly; it was almost like Peeves the poltergeist at Hogwarts.
"I'll tell him you hold in all his secret farts and let them out whe-when he's not here." Ron moved back away from the chair and waited for a sign of compliance.
"Oh-ka-kay!" Fred's voice responded with a mock stutter.
Fergus kicked at the chair with his heel.
"Watch it you, that's yer brother yer takin' the piss out of!"
"That's not actually Fred," Lee smiled before kicking the armchair himself and sitting down on the edge of the coffee table. "That's just a chair."
"A charm on a chair," Ron nodded, "don't worry abo-bout it."
Tommy saw that Ron had just rolled the small furry orange ball between his fingers and given it a slight squeeze. As he looked up at Ron's face, he saw the redhead stifling a giggle behind his other hand.
"It's pretty funny, really," Ron grinned before throwing himself down into the seat beside Tommy and putting his feet up on the table.
'Feet off the table!' both Fred and George's voices shouted.
"Oh, sod off!" Ron chortled as he banged his foot down on the surface and turned to look at Fergus. "So are you gonna be a moody git or are you gonna tell us why you're being such a bastard to your mother?"
Fergus started at Ron in amazement. Tommy would have been taken aback by Ron's carefree attitude as well if he hadn't seen the exchange between brothers at the bottom of the stairs a short while ago.
"Um, well yeah." Lee was slightly thrown by Ron getting straight to the point in such a merry fashion. "I mean I'd love to have my mum treating me normally and telling me I was a prat when I was a prat rather than all this 'Oh, honey, let's talk about your feelings' crap every day. What's your problem with her?"
"That's my problem!" Fergus huffed as he sat up in the chair. "That's my problem right there. Me Ma has never once feckin' coddled me like yours all did you. She's all fer treating me like I was before all this happened and I'm not the same now!"
"What's wrong with her treating you as if you were still you and not made of glass?" Lee asked, face clearly bewildered that being treated the same as before could be considered a bad thing in any way.
"Oh, what does it matter how yer ma treats you, Jordan? Yer never bloody around her!" Fergus spat cruelly.
"My mum understands that..." Lee nodded his head discreetly in Ron direction, "I'm needed!"
"I don't need you," Ron said cheerfully. "I've got people coming out of my ears at home. Oh! You know what I need? I want great big empty house with nobody in it...and a sweetshop!"
Tommy couldn't help but snort with laughter and edge along the sofa to try and pry the small orange ball out of Ron's hand. Lee frowned at Ron worriedly and Fergus smirked at him for being dismissed by Ron in such a breezy manner.
"See maybe yeh wanna spend some time with your Ma and leave yer man alone, Lee, eh?" Fergus sat back in the chair and folded his arms smugly.
"Look, this isn't about me!" Lee said angrily. "This is about you and your need to drink until you fall down or get into a fight every night."
"I don't fall down drunk I'll have you know," Fergus said, as furious as he might have been if Lee had accused him of screwing a goat. "And I'd like teh see you turn and walk away from people saying Ron was driven to mass murder by all the feckin' semen up his arse!"
Lee threw himself at Fergus and pulled his arm back to punch him in the face but Fergus flipped himself out of the armchair and twisted Lee's arm behind his back, forcing his face into the cushions.
"Yeh see? Yeh see, you do the same thing I do and you haven't had a drink at all, so get off yer high horse and stay off my back while yer at it!"
"Oh why is everything always about bloody me?" Ron waved his arms around wildly. "Who cares what these fuckers think? What do they fuckin' know anyway?"
Tommy tried to grab for the hand with the orange ball of fluff in it but Ron was still gesticulating wildly.
"You'd do it fer us and don't say yeh wouldn't," Fergus said knowingly as he released Lee and took a few steps away from him.
"What?" Ron said with a snort of derision. "I'm supposed to take a swing at somebody if they call you a drunk?"
Fergus's eyes darkened and a tiny muscle in his cheek twitched.
"Well here's news for ya, Fergus...you are!" Ron laughed.
Tommy lunged for Ron's arm and the two of them toppled backwards and landed on the sofa. Tommy was sprawled on top of Ron's body and he ripped the orange ball from his hand and climbed off the cackling redhead with a sigh of relief.
"Fred gave him a slow-release cheering charm," Tommy explained as he held up the ball. "Don't take it personally, either of you. He'd find anything funny right now."
Fergus' face lightened and he held out his hand to take the ball from Tommy. Lee rolled his eyes and got up got of the armchair and stomped across the room towards the stairs.
"I'm going to give Fred such a bloody clout!" he grumbled as he went.
Ron was still giggling as he got up and called after him.
"Oh Lee, come on mate…he was trying to help me relax the stutter...and it worked, didn't it?"
"Worked?" Lee spun around and his voice grew louder, "Worked? How is giving you a hysterical charm to control your emotions any different to him self-medicating with alcohol?"
"Self-medicating?" Fergus said as he scrunched up his face. "What the hell are ye talkin' about, Lee?"
"I've been reading up on how people like you deal with the sort of things that happened to us and..."
"People like us?" Fergus exclaimed in outrage.
"Cuckoo!" Ron said as he twirled his finger at the side of his head and then doubled up with giggles.
"I think he's talking about all of us, Fergus," Tommy said, trying to calm the nerves of everyone in the room.
"Not you, Tom, you're not the same," Lee said with a dismissive wave before looking back at Fergus angrily. "Before all this happened, if your mum wanted you to stay home for a family night or dinner or just to keep her company on a lonely evening would you have ranted at her and stormed out or would you have given her just one night without complaining?"
"But the difference is she's not after one night in wi'me," Fergus threw the orange ball down onto the coffee table after a small smile began creeping onto his face. "She's after never letting me go back ta the life I had because of what went on."
"But you can't have the life you had, Fergus, none of us can," Lee said as he moved away from the stairs and back towards Fergus once again.
"I won't hide in me Ma's house until people stop bein' arseholes, Lee," Fergus shrugged carelessly, the cheering charm seeming to have levelled out his aggression to some extent.
"I'm not suggesting we hide, I'm just..."
"What do you mean, I'm not the same as you?" Tommy said coolly.
"What?" Lee blinked, completely blindsided by Tommy speaking up at all.
"You said I'm not the same. Why am I not the same?" Tommy felt his throat dry up as he spoke.
"What? No, I meant...oh, not you as well, Tom!" Lee huffed.
"Apparently not me as well, no!" Tommy said indignantly. "Apparently, my experiences in that place don't count. Or maybe because I got out before the massacre and the seriously bad torture, I dunno, maybe I should feel lucky to have been dying the whole time and missing out on all the male bonding!"
"Tom," Ron said, not giggling anymore but seemingly unable to stop smiling as he picked up the orange ball from the table and holding it out to him, "don't get tetchy, give Fred's ball a squeeze and everything'll be better!"
Fergus snorted as Ron began sniggering and Tommy took the ball from him before the charm made him hysterical. He turned and looked at Lee, feeling the light-headed cheerfulness of the charm lightening the dark cloud hovering over his head gradually.
"You know what, Lee?" Tommy said with a sigh, "Maybe we're all dealing with our issues the wrong way but at least we're dealing with them. What are you doing to keep yourself from going mad?"
Lee looked from one of them to the other before marching back to the stairs and carrying on all the way down them without another word.