Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.

Chapter 13: Truculent

Bill waits with his four youngest siblings, plus Harry and Hermione, all of them piled into the Burrow's small sitting room as the bangs and booms from upstairs gradually subside. Bill is reminded in a twisted way of the ruckus the twins used to cause in their bedroom; things were a lot simpler in the Weasley household back then.

Mum had come down a couple hours ago, visibly distraught by whatever had happened in Percy's room, but refused all their attempts to console her. She'd just said that Charlie was calming Percy down and then disappeared into the kitchen, nosily cooking up dish after dish even though night was beginning to fall. They all know it's her way of coping, so they say nothing and do their best to pick at whatever food she brings out. Their Dad had gone up to bed and then, apparently unable to sleep, retreated out to his shed in the back garden.

Ginny and Hermione are half-heartedly studying for their N.E.W.T.s while Fred and George play a subdued game of Exploding Snap. Ron and Harry are playing chess, thankfully using a muggle set rather than the cantankerous Wizarding pieces. None of them have much to say—the revelation of Percy's actions during the war, followed immediately by his magical breakdown had wrung all the emotion out of them.

Bill is considering attempting to pull a big brother move and send them all to bed when creaking from the staircase pulls their attention from their chosen distractions. Charlie plods down into the room, looking more drained and haggard than Bill has ever seen him.

Ginny echoes Bill's thoughts, declaring "You look dreadful," as she hurries over and pulls Charlie into a hug.

"Thanks, Gin," Charlie says with a wet chuckle. He collapses onto a couch and runs his hands through his hair.

They all glance around at each other, wondering who is going to ask first. Bill takes the plunge. "Can you tell us what's going on?"

Charlie presses his fists against his eyes, sighing heavily before speaking. "Penelope is dead. The Death Eaters killed her."

Bill swallows. It had seemed likely, but it still hurts. He doesn't remember Penelope from school, but Percy had written him countless long-winded letters singing her praises. If something like that had happened to Fleur…

Charlie offers a few more clipped sentences—explaining how the Death Eaters caught Percy and Penelope after discovering their scheme for saving muggle-borns, how Percy had altered his own memories to protect those he had saved, and how Penelope had been killed.

"Poor Penelope," Hermione murmurs, tears running down her cheeks.

"Did Percy tell you anything else?" Ron asks, putting an arm around his girlfriend.

Charlie pauses, hesitating. The pain etched into Charlie's exhausted face plainly says that there's more. But Charlie shakes his head. "No. That's…no."

Out of all the Weasley siblings, Charlie was probably the worst liar. Bill would have given that honor to Percy, except it turns out Perfect Prefect Percy was actually a skilled deceiver. Until he wasn't.

"Okay, so, that's not true," George says flatly. "Tell us."

"It's not—it's nothing," Charlie stammers.

"It's obviously not nothing," Fred retorts, his scarred face twisted into a deep frown. "Just tell us!"

"Does it have anything to do with what the Death Eaters are planning?" Ron asks.

"No!" Charlie snaps. "It's nothing like that!"

"So it is something," Ginny concludes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"For Merlin's—" Charlie grabs at his hair with both hands, looking a bit deranged. He breaks off suddenly, glancing around the room and over to where their Mum is working in the kitchen. "Where's Dad?"

"Don't change the—"

George starts to object, but Charlie interrupts, leaping to his feet. "Where is Dad?" He demands.

"Where he always is, out back in the shed," Bill says, confused by Charlie's sudden aggressiveness. "What—?"

"Oh no he bloody well isn't." With the belligerent confidence of a Quidditch player turned dragon keeper, Charlie barrels out in the back garden.

"Charlie – oi!" Bill calls after him, to no avail. He turns to the rest of the extended family, telling them, "Stay here, alright? I'll handle this."

Of course, no one but Harry and Hermione actually listens to him. Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny spill out into the back garden, their lumos charms lighting up the late night air with an eerie glow. Some of the protection spells they set around the Burrow are visible, too, red and silver tendrils twining together in an endless parade around the property.

"Charlie, what the hell?" Bill vaults forward, putting himself between his hostile little brother and his father's shed. "Calm down!"

"Calm down?" Charlie's face is a contorted mess of fury and anguish. "Percy is—and Dad's just—he should be here!"

Bill's heart clenches as he realizes the source of Charlie's anger. He also had some conflicted emotions about their Dad locking himself away in the shed instead of trying to help with Percy, but Charlie hadn't been there for Percy and Dad's row, and didn't understand the depth of the wounds that had been carved that night. "I get it, alright? But this isn't going to—"

"Come off it, Charlie!" Ron grabs at the back of Charlie's shirt and Charlie wheels around; somehow, Ron ends up sprawled in the grass.

"Percy is his son!" Charlie growls. "He should act like it!"

"Then maybe Percy should—" Ron starts hotly, staggering to his feet.

"Don't you dare!" Charlie shouts over him.

"What? What's wrong?" The shed door flies open and Arthur stumbles out, wand at the ready.

"Nothing's wrong, Dad," Bill says quickly. "Just tensions running high."

"Nothing's wrong?" Charlie repeats, turning an incredulous and almost betrayed look toward Bill.

"You know what I mean," Bill shoots back defensively. "There are no Death Eaters attacking, that's all I meant."

Arthur blinks in the light of their illuminated wands, staring back at his children scattered about the garden in front of him. Ron is indignantly shaking dirt off his clothes. "Is, er, is Percy doing better, then?"

Bill winces as Charlie's anger visibly rekindles.

"Oh, so you've decided to show an interest all of a sudden, have you?" Charlie fumes.

Shock and pain flicker over Arthur's face. "Hey," Ginny snaps. "That's not fair." Fred, George, and Ron nod, coming immediately to their Dad's defense.

"I'm just saying, you haven't seemed to care much since he's been back," Charlie says heatedly.

Arthur's face flushes dark pink. "That's not true."

"Oh, really? It's not true you haven't said two words to him?"

"He hasn't wanted to see me!" Arthur exclaims, his face now the same color of the little red hair left on his balding, graying head. "He looks at me like…like…"

"Like he thinks you hate him!" Charlie whips around, expanding his rant to include all the siblings. "Like that stupid fight is all you care about!"

"It wasn't a stupid fight," George says, coldness creeping into voice.

"You don't know what he said—" Ron huffs.

"Oh, Merlin, not this again!" Charlie throws his hands up. "Why don't you tell me, then? Tell me what he said that was so bad you lot don't care that the Death Eaters murdered his girlfriend in front of him! That it's not enough for you all that he was tortured for months! That he can't even tell me what happened except they wouldn't let him—"

Charlie breaks off, his eyes widening as if he just realized what he's been saying. Arthur's mouth is heaving open and closed like a beached merman, and whatever sense of fight had been building in their younger siblings bleeds away as tears begin to gleam in Charlie's eyes.

"Fuck," Charlie mutters, and before Bill can say a word Charlie rears back and buries his fist in the side of the Burrow with a wordless scream.

Bill forces himself to tamp down his own emotions as he steps toward Charlie. "It's too late to talk about this. Everyone needs to get some sleep." Charlie pulls his battered fist from the wood, hissing curses under his breath.

"Don't you think we should—" Fred starts, but Bill cuts him off with a stern look. "Fine. We'll all keep repressing for another night, then. Sounds healthy." The younger siblings still living at the Burrow file back in, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione prepare to return to Grimmauld Place.

"I didn't mean that I don't care Percy got…hurt," Ron mumbles as he walks past. Bill nods in acknowledgement.

Arthur is hovering near them, and Bill looks at him expectantly, willing him to speak, willing him to do something to take on some of the burden of this terrible situation.

"I really didn't think Percy wanted to see me," Arthur says timidly. "If he does, I could…?"

He leaves the suggestion hanging, and Bill sighs, feeling like he's the parent here. "Percy hasn't seemed like he wants to talk to anyone," Bill says, and hates the relieved look on his father's face. Hates that he's felt the same way, relieved not to have to deal with mire of trouble and trauma surrounding Percy. As Arthur returns to the Burrow, Bill turns his full attention back to Charlie.

"How bad is it?" Bill asks. They're both staring at Charlie's bleeding hand, but neither of them are talking about it.

"Worse," Charlie whispers. "It's worse than we thought."

Bill's stomach plummets. They had thought it was pretty fucking bad, how could it be worse? "What did he say?"

Charlie's mouth opens and closes, and then he shakes his head, as though he couldn't find the right words, or couldn't force his voice to form them.

"We'll figure it out, okay?" Bill says, practically wincing at the lack of conviction behind his words. He pulls out his wand. "Medeor." With a single spell, the wounds on Charlie's hands seal up. "Reparo." And with another, the damage to the Burrow disappears. If only everything were so simply remedied.