It began quietly like a stalking storm on the horizon. One moment he was scolding rule-breaking first years—Ravenclaw to his surprise—and the next he was squinting against the blurry brightness of the infirmary. A hovering medi-witch from St. Mungos was the first face he saw. He attempted to sit up, to speak, but when he opened his mouth all that came out was an embarrassing groan. Everything hurt and he didn't know why. In a rare moment where he listened to his body, he let himself fall once more against the infirmary bed. The medi-witch was talking over her shoulder and he blinked with a lack of understanding of what he was hearing.

"He's stable enough to be transferred now through the floo."

Where was he going? Unsteady and now unnerved, he reached clumsily for his glasses on the nightstand next to him. His unannounced movement made someone in the large room squawk. A blur of red congregated at the foot of the bed. "Perce?" one of the lanker forms asked hesitantly. Percy shoved his glasses on his face and the figure came into more focus. One of the twins—he thought it was Fred because he had a barely noticeable bend from a previously broken nose—was the one that spoke, his shoulders hunkered and looking too much like a scolded child. George wasn't any better; he looked pale, his splattering of Weasley freckles looked odd. He was grabbing on his own arms, one shoulder flushed against Fred's. They were still blurry, Percy's eyes unable to stay focused even with his glasses back on, but he recognized the looks. The shifty behavior. Did someone die or were they hurt?

Percy tried to quickly do a headcount and ignored the way his head swam because of it. He pushed past the dizziness and the pounding behind his eyes. There was Fred, there was George. Ron was there, his two friends forming a landlocked fortress on either side. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, Percy added to the tally. Neither looked comfortable to be there, not used to Weasley type huddles Percy assumed. The only one he couldn't see amongst his Hogwarts going siblings was—

"Where's Ginny?" He almost bodily flinched at his own voice. It was hoarse and high-pitched, cracking in ways it hadn't since he went through puberty. He did, however, cringe at the soreness of his throat, the cottonness of his tongue. A small figure pushed past the unintentional body wall that Ron, Potter, and Granger had made. Ginny voiced a delicate barely there 'here' and Percy could breathe for a moment. Then he stiffened. Ginny was not delicate, she was a firecracker and screamed her presence to the world much like their brothers. "Bill, Charlie?" was his next two-named question.

"They're going to meet us at St. Mungos," George said. His voice was wrong, too. It was so un-George like that Percy did a second check on him for any injuries. Finding nothing he could easily see, Percy relaxed momentarily.

He swallowed past pins and needles. "Mum, dad?" He asked for them in a weak whisper. Off to the side, Ron was shuffling in place uneasily, eyeing Percy with something he couldn't recognize with how the room spun and the lights grew brighter. Maybe it was because Percy never called mum and dad mum and dad anymore. He hadn't since he was in 3rd year, but his voice felt like it was blocked and his head felt like he was underwater; he was reverting back to simple words and terms. It must have been odd for his little brother to hear him being so rude and disrespectful.

"Already there, stick-boy." Ron had decided to answer that time and Percy was startled at the old nickname. He hadn't even known Ron knew that one; it belonged to Bill and Charlie before the rest followed after Percy. Then the twins had come up with far more creative nicknames because stick-boy was too boring to them. They had heckled their older brothers for months for being so dull.

Percy exhaled, his tense shoulders relaxing against the charmed cool infirmary pillows. "Good." He wanted to continue, to say 'good, it's nothing important' but he felt too tired to open his mouth again. The twins shared an unreadable look readable only to each other. He was distracted by Ginny abruptly crossing to the side of the bed, the medi-witch had left to talk to Madam Pomfrey in quiet tones, and launching herself to his hand. Her small hand was clammy but surprisingly strong in its grip, her free arm held a blank book to her chest like a lifeline, the smallest peek of a quill poking out of her robe pocket. Her fingers, he belatedly noticed, were ink stained. His eyes fluttered once then twice, the deep exhaustion settling into bones, and he let his eyes close with the knowledge he hadn't failed. His siblings were alright, their parents were alright.

He was asleep before he realized just how tired he was.

The next time he woke up it was to a gentle clustering of muffled noise and the smell of antiseptic, healing potions, and powdered gloves. It was a dim room, curtains closed firmly over the window. The lights above had been lowered; he found himself thankful it wasn't as blinding as the infirmary. Despite the more comfortable room, his head throbbed in line with the rest of his body. He felt like a walking bruise. As he began to close his eyes again, the strangest lure to sleep more pulling at him, a rather physical yank on his hand forced him into wakefulness.

Ginny was staring at him with swollen red eyes. When she saw him looking back, she grabbed onto him with a stronger grip that was painful. He flinched and tried to pull away but she didn't let up, instead tightening her hold much like a snake. It would be impressive if it wasn't hurting him. "Mum," she began, not moving an inch, "he's awake."

The shrill squeal of a chair scraping against the floor had him cringing away. Ginny readjusted their hands and tightened her hold even more. Her eyes narrowed, jaw clenching. "Percy, sweetheart." Percy squinted up at the shapes of their mother. She seemed to waver, unsure, before confidently placing the back of her hand on his forehead. "How are you feeling? Any pain? Discomfort? I keep telling them you have a fever, but they won't do anything about it. Can you believe the nerve of that?"

She was babbling. Percy hadn't heard her babbling in years. Awake and now alarmed, he attempted to sit up, unending questions on his tongue. Where were Fred, George, and Ron? Where were Bill and Charlie? Potter and Granger? Where was father? Mother shot him a scolding look at the same time Ginny did. "Oh, no you don't, young man! You may be as stubborn as a bloody mule but I'm your mother. I have more experience." Percy would have jumped at the out of character language but Ginny was climbing into the bed, his glasses in her free hand. They slipped onto his face with a surprising show of dexterity from his little sister. She didn't let go of his other hand once, shuffling in an awkward and uncomfortable circle before collapsing against him on the narrow bed. She yanked his trapped arm around her shoulders.

Their mother's eyes softened. Ginny rested her head against Percy's shoulder, her legs pulled up to her chest. "She didn't want to leave you," their mother answered his unspoken question.

"I—What?" Percy croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "But she has classes. She'll fall behind her peers and she won't know her way to her lessons. I can walk her there right now." Their mother smiled and scoffed, shaking her head.

Ginny mumbled against him, face hidden, "Not at Hogwarts."

Percy felt himself go cold. His throbbing muscles momentarily forgotten, his back tensed. "Not at—? Mother, that's against the rules! A student can't leave the grounds unless it's an emergency! Where are the rest?"

Their mother opened her mouth and the door to the room opened. A flood of redheads filtered in and Percy felt faint. Potter and Granger were not there, at least, and he hoped they had enough sense to stay at Hogwarts. Ron, it appeared, did not have that same sense as his two hooligan friends.

"Where—"

"You had a seizure, Perce." Ron's face was completely unapologetic as he cut off Percy who was puffing himself up to retort before he understood what was being said.

"Wow, what tact oh brother ours," George said, ruffling Ron's hair.

"Ronnikins never had a tactful bone in his body," Fred was quick to comment.

Both were looking at Percy like he was going to disappear at any moment. He sunk into the bed, shamefully hiding behind Ginny. Their quips were slow, he noticed, off-beat and off-kilter. It wasn't even funny or sharp or clever. Over Ron's angered shout of 'knock it off', Charlie snuck closer. "You're in St. Mungos," he finally answered Percy's unfinished question.

Percy nodded to show his thanks, but his mind was out of the room and back at Hogwarts. His bag which he had uncharacteristically left behind in his dorm room. Inside, he had a half-finished astrology essay and a finished potions essay that he hadn't been able to submit yet. There were rolls of bare parchment for the other essays and assignments he hadn't even begun yet; their due dates were fast approaching. One of his textbooks, he realized with growing horror, had been left carelessly on his bed at Hogwarts. There were four other books he hadn't been able to borrow from the library and it looked like it might be too late to do so from the shadows creeping from under the hospital's curtain. Had he been able to deduct points from those rule-breaking Ravenclaws before his fit? There were also first years he was supposed to show the path to the Charms classroom. Having successfully spiraled himself into a panic, his head snapped towards his mother, nearly dislodging his sudden carry-on of a little sister.

"When do I get released? I have schoolwork I need to do, not to mention previous engagements as a Prefect."

"Percy," their father was quick to interrupt at the sight of his brothers obviously pulling themselves for a row. "You had a seizure." Percy stared at him, having not realized how close he had gotten. Their father looked haggard, their mother linking their arms together seemingly being the only reason he was still standing.

"Yes? I do know what a seizure is. I didn't need to be sent to St. Mungos. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey could have handled it just fine." Percy was not understanding why his family was acting so oddly. It was just a seizure and the Hogwarts infirmary would have been the better choice due to the distance.

A few of his brothers scoffed, one mumbling under their breath 'there's our prattish Prefect Percy.' Percy was fairly certain that it came from Ron, but both of the twins looked annoyed enough that it could have also come from one of them. If not in voice then in spirit. Ginny shuffled away from her spot and glared. Not at him, but at their brothers. Her eyes appeared to be narrowed at Ron. While it was an almost refreshing change for this strange day, Percy found himself uncomfortable with the twist of her grip on his still captured hand. But he didn't want to deny his sister any comfort and so merely pursed his lips.

Their father repeated himself slowly. Percy fought down a sneer, his face flushing in the infamous angry Weasley red. "I am not stupid! I merely don't understand why we must go through all this trouble when I have so much responsibility to do this year alone. I'm graduating soon, after all." He bit his tongue on his desire to berate their father for leaving work early for no reason.

He was just fine! And there was no reason to leave Hogwarts.

As their father was visibly floundering and Percy was obviously becoming angered, Bill completed boxing Percy in by slipping through to stand next to Charlie. "They said it was a Psychogenic Nonepileptic Seizure." When Percy merely blinked stubbornly stoic, Bill sighed and continued, "They're caused by stress, Perce. Are you under a lot of stress?"

George leaned in towards Fred to stage-whisper. "I thought they said distressed?"

"Distressed sounds so Percy-like. It's perfect for our old stick-in-the-mud brother." Fred nodded like he was some sort of judge given important evidence.

Whatever small—weak—moment of normalcy broke as Percy was suddenly met with multiple pairs of Weasley eyes. Even Ginny, who had seemed mostly content to be a quiet growth on his side, was looking at him expectedly.

"Well, I—I have a lot of responsibilities and you all know that," Percy sputtered, flushing now in embarrassment.

Ron whispered in the quiet room, "You're graying, you know?" It was uncharacteristic for the youngest brother to whisper, to look and sound meek. But it was the truth. Percy had a minor panic at seeing the early strands of gray hidden amongst his curls the first time. Percy wondered in mute numbness if Ginny's abrupt meekness was spreading. Was it contagious? Maybe his siblings were getting sick. Some sort of magically personality shifting ailment.

Mother's hand was back in his space, shifting this time through his hair like a bird building a nest. Her breath caught in her chest. "Love." That was all she seemed able to say in the moment as her fingers caught the unmistakable gray within the red.

Percy suddenly felt frustrated. He raised his shoulders. "Premature graying is not that strange."

"It is if you've had a seizure because of how much stress you've been under. Surely you know how this looks, yeah?" Bill's arms were crossed, his eyes narrowed. "You're sixteen for Merlin's sake!"

Percy wasn't sure how to argue further without repeating himself so he decided to stay quiet. His jaw was set.

Their mother broke from her silence. "Percival Ignatius Weasley. Answer me honestly. Are you under pressure at Hogwarts?"

He had never been able to properly lie to their mother when she had that face and used that voice. Wordlessly, he gave a stiff nod. "It's to be expected. I'm the oldest there right now and I've made Prefect. I have to take care of the others as well as the other students on top of my own studies if I wish to find a job in the Ministry."

"Too much pressure?" she pressed with a raised brow.

"I can handle myself just fine."

"You had a seizure." Their mother's hands were now on her hips. Percy merely pressed his lips firmly. It kept circling around to that useless fact. "You're coming home to the Burrow, you're taking a year off of school, and that is final."

"What? That's—That's—No! I refuse. The Ministry—"

Their father, who had stayed mostly silent, jolted. "The Ministry can wait. You are ill. You're—You're so ill you have gray hair and somehow I never noticed that."

"It can't!" Percy argued. It was childish sounding even to him.

"Why does the rubbish Ministry matter so much?" one of the twins blurted and Percy was too overheated to see which one it was.

"Because we need the money!" His words seemed to stun the rest. Their parents stole a glance with each other.

"Is that why you're under you're so much pressure?"

"Well, someone needs to care." Their father reeled like he had been slapped and Percy cringed. Ginny leaned heavily against him, grabbed him harder. He breathed in. "I want to buy my brothers and sister new textbooks, new clothes and robes, Ron needs a new wand, and I'm pretty sure the twins need new cauldrons. It's a miracle they haven't exploded a room with those old, unstable things." There was more there hidden behind his words. None of it was an unspoken apology; he would not apologize to his father for finally voicing his frustration. Their father was the one refusing promotions and more pay. "I," he began hesitantly, "want more for them."

It was what he wanted more than anything. He wanted them safe, fed, and with things of their own. He wanted them to walk proudly without snickers at their tattered second-handed robes. He wanted them to read from new textbooks that weren't water stained, full of nonsensical notes from past owners, and with all their pages still intact so they wouldn't miss anything vital.

Father shook himself from his stupor and his breath came out in a shudder. "You're not their father, Percy, and you shouldn't have needed to act like one. I—I'm sorry." He had this strange look on his face like he was seeing Percy for the first time. "Why didn't you come to me or your mum?"

Percy worried his lower lip, refusing to look at anyone gathered. He felt like he had done something wrong now. Broke some unspoken social rule. The exhaustion—which he knew was from the seizure—was overtaking him once more. He wanted to sleep. To pretend none of this was happening. His concerns were his own, his stress was his own, his desires to give his siblings better lives were his own. But their parents, his own siblings, were acting like it shouldn't be and he was confused. "It's my duty as their older brother." His answer appeared to be the wrong one if he was going off the rapid-fire insults from the twins.

"You git!"

"Stupid dumbarse!"

"Did your already humongous, big head expand to the point where you can't think?!"

"Where's your brain?!"

He took it with a cringing, uncomfortable expression. Their mother shouted over their ruckus and they stopped, breathing heavily, muttering under their breaths and most likely covered in Weasley red.

Ron took his chance to jump back into the fray. "You didn't mention anything about yourself." He threw in a half-hearted, "Git."

Percy hated how utterly observant his little brother could be when his heart was in it. He turned his face away further and accidentally met Charlie's eyes. Percy felt panic. He was—

"Sorry for keeping you from their jobs. They shouldn't have called you."

Charlie's expression soured. "You really are a big dumbarse git, aren't you? You're our brother. Of course, we'd come if you needed us."

"But it's not a—"

Bill firmly shook his head and Percy's jaw clicked as he closed his mouth.

"Year off from school, you stay at the Burrow," their mother repeated just as firmly. Percy, now defeated and too tired to argue, nodded.

Ron suddenly jumped onto the bed, shoving his way bodily between Ginny and Percy. Ginny hissed like a spooked cat. Two slim arms wrapped around Percy's middle and he blinked down with wide eyes at the messy red hair and the feeling of a face now pressed into his chest. It lasted for a moment and then his little brother was climbing back down to stand with the twins. "Ron, what—"

"You're gonna have to talk to a mind healer now," Ron said with a grin, acting like he hadn't just hugged his big brother for the first time in years.

Confused, tired, and feeling like a bruise, Percy looked up at their mother with a pleading glance. Surely that wasn't true. He didn't need to talk out his feelings with a mind healer.

But she nodded with a sly grin of her own. A spot of intense concern was lighting her eyes, smoothing the appearance of joy. "They said it would help you. Since these types of seizures are due to psychological means instead of—Dear, how did they put it?"

"Abnormal electrical activity," their father replied quickly.

Percy blinked. He had never heard those sorts of words from their parents before. From their faces and tones, however, he realized they knew exactly what they meant. He felt a bundle of unexpected pride and then embarrassment for thinking so little of them. Of their own intelligence and understanding. "Okay," he said simply in a hoarse voice with a throat full of cotton.

After Percy slept for another hour and his siblings gradually—reluctantly—went back to Hogwarts, he spotted Ginny writing in the unmarked book. She had kicked up a fuss, screaming she wanted to stay until he was back at the Burrow. Their mother allowed it with a sharp tisk of her tongue. Preparing to leave through the hospital's floo network, he stole a peek over her shoulder.

Black arts and how were what he read but a second glance showed the beginning of a History of Magic essay.

Percy shook his head, sure he was merely tired from his fit and the sudden emotionally draining talk. He was sure it was nothing to worry about. Concern was worming its way into his chest, however, and it remained well after Ginny went back to Hogwarts. He resolved to keep an eye on his little sister when he was able to.