"Hello, Minister! Did I mention I'm resigning?"
"You're joking, Perce! You actually are joking...I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-"
No! Fred!
Percy couldn't believe his eyes. Fred cannot be- No! It must be some mistake, some trick, or maybe a joke...Yes, that would have to be it. There would be no possible way that his brother, Fred Weasley could be dead. He, Percy, could barely fathom the idea. It had to be some sort of practical joke. Fred would jump up, and George would pop out from behind the wall and they would both yell "Gotcha!"
So Percy waited. But nothing happened. Dust swirled. Tears began to stream down his cheeks, and still the prank went unannounced. Then, the grim thought - the thought that should have never crossed Percy's sane mind - came up.
What if it wasn't a joke? I had this perfect opportunity to reunite our family, and there I go again, blowing everything. I'd failed my rescue mission. How would my family ever forgive me? Would they? Or would they just go on, blaming me forever for the death of my brother? But whatever blame they placed upon me, it would be nothing, nothing, compared to the blame I was putting on myself... Failed rescue mission... Broken forever... No going back...
But this, this is where the rescue operation can begin anew, where I can strive forevermore to find solace with my family.
A/N: Again, a drabble for the Magic Number Competition! From Percy's POV after Fred's death. Using prompt Rescue Operation.