At least everyone was going to be OK, Fred thought. Harry and Hermione would manage easily, Bill had Fleur, Charlie had... Well... Whatever made him happy. His parents had one another, even his mum would laugh again, she'd promised that, and she wasn't one to break a promise like that.
He looked at the pile of sweaters his dad had left on something that looked like an old – ancient – cupboard which was lying on its side in a corner of the attic. All the different colours, all with a huge 'F' in the middle, one for every year he hadn't been there to unwrap them at Christmas eve. He wished he could take them with him, every single one of the sweaters. Of course he knew he couldn't, but even a half-dead boy could dream, right?
The next person to say their goodbyes took such a long time that Fred started to think they might not come at all, that they'd forgotten about him or something like that.
Since he had to wait anyway, and since he couldn't do much else for he was bound to the stone and couldn't really touch anything, he started singing.
Why? He had no clue. He felt so inexplicably happy about his current situation; everyone was going to be okay, he got to talk to all of them one last time and, even though he wasn't sure whether he'd see his friends and family ever again, he felt kind of glad about leaving. Leaving that awful, depressing feeling behind, that is.
He even managed to convince himself that this was for the better for everyone, including George. Being stuck with a vague image of his lost brother wouldn't help him any further in life. And yes, Fred called himself things like 'a vague image' by now, he'd be gone by sunset anyway – at least, that's what he thought – , better use his last hours to make a complete idiot of himself, right?
He sang 'A Cauldron Of Hot, Strong Love' from the top of his lungs, nobody could hear him anyway. The song, even though it was terrible, reminded him of home, of the Burrow. He missed his home, he wished he could've just gone there one more time. If only it was to de-gnome the garden or something silly like that, he just wanted to feel home again.
He suddenly remembered the old clock that had always been standing in the kitchen, the one that didn't tell you the time, but the place where every member of the Weasley family was at that particular moment. I wonder what place it says I am right now, Fred thought.
He stopped singing when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Glad that no one could've possibly heard him sing a Celestina Warbeck song, he watched the door to see who would come visit him next.
He was surprised when he saw that Percy shuffled into the room, his head bent down and his eyes on the floor.
Percy had changed a lot.
His hair wasn't as neatly combed and taken care of as it used to be. He didn't wear horn-rimmed glasses anymore, but a different, slightly smaller, spectacle frame. The real difference wasn't to see in his appearance, though. It was in the way he acted, the way he stood and walked. There was no sign whatsoever of his usual 'dignified matter', or, as he and George used to call it, his 'megalomania'.
No, Percy didn't look pompous in any way at that moment. He looked rather shy and sad, not watching where he was going as he was only staring at his own shoes.
Well, this was going to be an awkward talk.
Suddenly, Percy lifted his head and took a shaky breath. Still slightly crouched, he reached for the stone, looked at it for a second and then turned it around in his hand, not bothering to close his eyes.
He blinked a few times, his expression suddenly flabbergasted, so Fred reckoned he could see him now.
“Ey Perce, long time no see.” He said flatly, not knowing exactly how to act around this new version of his brother.
Percy opened and closed his mouth a few times, still looking shocked. “F-Fred?” he managed to get out.
Fred nodded. Trying to make some proper conversation and make the whole situation a bit less awkward, he started rattling. “Yup, it's me. And I can assure you it's me and not George because I don't have that mole that he has on his – ”
“NO!”
“Wait, wha-” Fred started, not knowing what happened since everything went really quickly. Percy had screamed and thrown the stone across the room with a grunt. Now he was walking to and fro through the room, nearly pulling his own hair out while yelling even more. “MY FAULT... DON'T DESERVE... SHOULD'VE BEEN ME... ALL MY FAULT.”
Fred, who didn't have a clue what was going on, tried to sooth him, telling him to calm down and take it easy. Of course he realised soon there was no point in doing so; Percy couldn't hear him, since the stone now lay somewhere on the other side of the attic, lost in the major pile of useless stuff. The idiot, why had he thrown it away? Now Fred was really stuck, the stone as good as gone and his older brother raging in front of him.
Percy kept shouting and now started to throw other things across the room.
CRASH. He had tossed an old chair against the only bare wall, where the entrance was. The chair immediately broke to pieces, useless bits of wood flying everywhere.
Then came a dusty vase, which hit a mirror on the wall, smashing them both. A dirty cauldron, one of the broomsticks, the little side table. Percy slowly turned the attic to a complete mess, worse than it had been before.
“MY FAULT! … WHY? … BROTHER...”
Desperate to do something, anything, Fred made his way towards Percy and waved his hands in front of him, trying to get his attention. He hated seeing Percy like this, it was just wrong. Percy wasn't aggressive, he was calm and serious and annoying. The worst thing was that Fred knew Percy behaved like this because of him.
Fred even tried to grab Percy's wrist to stop him. Naturally, he couldn't, his hand went right through Percy's arm. However, Percy calmed down a little, raising his head and searching the room. He had unconsciously grabbed his wrist with his other hand, tears of anger streamed down his face.
He didn't yell anymore, he just muttered to himself, his voice raw. He sank to the ground, sobbing, his face hidden in his arms.
“I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” he kept saying.
If he hadn't been in this creepy ghost-like state, where nobody could hear him or touch him, he would've just cracked a joke, he would've looked at George and they would've started laughing.
But George wasn't there. He had to do this alone.
The only problem being that there was nothing he could do.
Then he heard another pair of footsteps on the stairs that led to the attic. Yes, Fred thought, finally! The footsteps were hurried and light, Fred didn't even have to see a face to realise who this was. He had heard those footsteps dozen of times back at the Burrow, all those years ago.
Ginny rushed into the room and looked around. “What – is – going – on – here?” she panted. As soon as she saw Percy's sad figure on the ground, an expression of understanding appeared on her face and, stepping over a few broken chair legs, she walked towards her brother and sat down next to him.
“Shhh. It's ok, Perce. It's ok.”
“NO!” Percy bursted. “It's NOT!”
Ginny stroked his back, not saying anything, waiting for Percy to continue.
“It's NOT ok! It's my fault, it's all my fault. If I hadn't been there, if I hadn't tried to be so bloody funny, Fred wouldn't have been distracted and he would've still been... would've still been ALIVE!” He nearly screamed this last word, pulling his hair again.
“Come on, Perce.” Ginny soothed. “You know that's not true. It was the fault of whoever caused that explosion. There's nothing you possibly could've done.” Her voice trembled.
Fred swallowed. He had always tried to make people laugh, he had practically made that his life mission, yet now he just made everyone sad, the only thing they had to do was think about him and BOOM. Waterworks. That wasn't how it was supposed to end.
“What would Fred think if he saw you this way?” Ginny asked, not with blame, but with compassion.
“Erhm... I did see him.” Fred muttered, tired of being ignored.
“But he did see me!” Percy cried. When Ginny threw a quizzical look at him, he continued. “I felt him, his presence. I think he tried to grab my wrist. It felt as if Sir Nicholas touched me, or one of the other ghosts. Only I didn't see anyone.” His voice trailed off and he had grabbed his wrist again.
Ginny looked at the side table, which was now on its side, one of its legs crooked. “Where's the stone?”
Percy pointed at the mess, in the direction he threw the stone.
“You threw it away?!” When Percy nodded, Ginny just sighed. “Idiot. Now, help me look for it, will you?”
“No.” Percy prompted. “I don't deserve to see him. You look for the stone.” And with those words he got to his feet and went for the door.
“No, you won't!” Ginny protested, blocking his way. “You will see Fred tonight and you will talk to him. Otherwise you'll regret it. He wants to talk to you, I'm sure of that!”
Do I? Fred thought. He wanted to talk to his brother, sure, he didn't want him to feel this way, because it surely wasn't Percy's fault that he was dead... But to face him while he was such a mess, he didn't want to remember Percy like that. He never thought he'd say this, but he'd rather see him with his 'megalomania' and his Prefect-badge on his chest.
Ginny was now searching a pile of empty cauldrons for the stone. Percy remained where he was, by the door, perfecty still, with his hand stretched out towards the doorknob. His eyes were closed and a tear trickled down his cheek and on his shirt.
CLANG.
“Oh no!” Ginny yelled, jumping aside quickly to avoid the falling pile of cauldrons. “We really need to start cleaning up some time! Kreacher will never be able to handle this on his own, poor thing.” She shoved the cauldrons aside, making scratches on the floor. “Why do we even have all these – ” Falling silent, she watched the floor. The tiny black stone had appeared out of nowhere when she had moved the messy cauldrons. Ginny held her breath as she reached for the stone, carefully taking it in her hand and examining it. She threw a look at Percy, who watched her with an expressionless face.
“You ready?” she asked, but he shook his head vehemently.
“Oh come ON, Perce!” Fred grunted out of frustration. “Please just be yourself and try to annoy me again like you used to!”
“Fred!” Ginny yelled, her eyes huge, eyeing him, obviously being able to see and hear him. “You – you haven't changed a thing!”
Fred rolled his eyes and couldn't help but grin. “Is that everything everyone's got to say to me?”
Ginny shrugged. “It's true though.”
He saw Percy's uncomprehending look and nodded towards him. “What about him?” he said, not knowing what to say about the situation.
Sighing, Ginny said, “Doesn't think he deserves to see you.”
“I know, I know,” Fred urged. “I heard everything. But, as you said, I have to talk to him.”
Ginny looked slightly surprised. “You did? I thought Percy was just seeing things, saying you grabbed his arm and all...”
“I did. Though I didn't expect him to actually feel it.” Fred was wondering how Ginny could be so calm, considering she'd freaked out completely when she'd merely heard about Fred and the stone. What had changed in the meantime?
Ginny nodded, looking at Percy once again. Percy still hadn't moved, his eyes fixed on Ginny. “Perce... He needs to see you. He just said so himself.” Fred nodded, which added nothing to Ginny's remark whatsoever, but at least made him feel like he did something useful.
“C'mon Percy.” Ginny watched him with sad eyes. “Please?”
But Percy didn't do anything.
“Tell him that if he won't take a hold of that bloody stone, I'll change his Head Boy badge into something far worse than 'Bighead Boy'.”
Ginny chuckled while she told Percy exactly what Fred'd said, even Percy cracked a slight smile, although the sadness in his eyes remained. Ginny held out the hand in which she was holding the stone, not saying another word, and, to both her and Fred's surprise, Percy took it. He shut his eyes and squeezed Ginny's hand. “I can't do this.”
“Yes, you can.” Ginny said, squeezing back. “Now open your eyes.” She looked at Fred and gave him a reassuring smile. Fred just beamed, slightly proud of how his words had convinced Percy so easily. It was funny, really, how Percy reacted to him right now. Had it been nineteen years earlier, Percy had merely frowned at practically everything he and George said.
Percy slowly opened his eyes.
“Let's try this again, shall we?” Fred said, grinning. “Hi Perce!”
Percy began crying again. Well, Fred thought, at least he didn't yell and throw stuff across the attic this time. We're making progress.
“F-fred! I'm so so so sorry!” Percy sobbed. “It was all my fault and I should never have said all those things I said! I was so stupid!”
Fred grimaced, remembering the times before the Second War, when Percy had neglected his family to work for the – corrupted – Ministry of Magic. “Yes. Stupid you were.” Fred said calmly. “But it wasn't your fault, what happened to me.”
“It was! If I hadn't tried to be funny...”
“I would've died without a smile on my face.” Fred stated sadly.
Percy fell silent, he didn't even sob anymore. Ginny looked from Fred to Percy and back, her face sad and her cheeks slightly red, as if she was trying to hold back her tears.
“That's nonsense.” Percy said eventually.
“It's my nonsense.” Fred said. “Therefore it's true nonsense, thank you very much.” Percy smiled. “And it was funny, what you said.” Fred added.
“I can't believe it took me that long to realise how wrong the Ministry was...” Percy's voice sounded troubled.
“At least you realised your own stupidity in the end.” George said. “And that's what matters. Mum had her son back.”
“And lost one, as well.” Ginny added sadly.
Percy swallowed. “It's not fair. It should've been me. I deserved it after what I did.”
“Now that's nonsense.” Fred said. “You don't deserve to die.”
“But you were so young...”
“Old enough to die, apparently.” Fred laughed. “And I'm fine, really. I'm still here, aren't I?” He turned around as if showing himself off, chest out, just like Percy used to do whenever he was wearing his dear badge.
“Ouch, PERCY!” Ginny said suddenly. “My hand will die away if you squeeze it any harder!”
“Sorry.” Percy murmured, but Fred laughed, he looked like a little kid holding his mum's hand.
“Do me a favour, Perce, will you?” Fred asked. When Percy nodded, he continued. “Please be your old cocky self and annoy George as much as possible, will you?”
“I'm not cocky!” Percy said.
Ginny threw him an unconvinced look. “Oh really?”
“Okay, maybe I was. Only a bit.” Percy corrected himself. He saw Fred's amused look. “Oh shut up you!”
“I didn't even say anything!” Fred laughed.
Percy laughed as well, which still was an unusual sight to Fred.
“Will I see you again, though?” Percy asked.
Fred used the same semi-truth he had told Charlie and Bill. “Of course! But not too soon, okay?”
Percy nodded. “Thanks, for everything, Fred. And sorry for everything I ever did to you.”
“Don't say sorry, you're not you when you're not annoying us! And don't blame yourself for what happened to me. It really wasn't your fault. It could've happened to anyone, I was just the one with bad luck that day.”
Percy nodded again, though not as convincing as before. “There's nothing I can change about it now, can I?”
“You might as well accept it.” Fred agreed.
Percy smiled. “Thank you. And there was no way in jinxing my badge, anyway. It still says Bighead Boy and it hangs on the wall, next to the picture of our family in Egypt. I never changed it back.”
“You're not kidding me!” Fred said, surprised. “You're actually way cooler than I thought, Perce!”
“Now, don't exaggerate it.” Percy said, a bit of his old pride had returned. “Though I think it's about time to go now. I'll leave you alone with Ginny. I can't thank you enough for what you've do– ”
“Wait a minute,” Ginny interrupted him. “That's all? We've been telling you the same thing for nineteen years! About it not being your fault and all... And now it's all good all of a sudden?”
“My voice is magic, dear Gin.” Fred stated pompously.
Percy laughed. “What he said.”
“Now, dear Perce.” Fred said seriously, mimicking Percy's dignified manner. “It was absolutely excellent to have this conversation with you. And naturally, it was a real pleasure.”
Percy laughed and let go of Ginny's hand and the stone. “I don't talk like that!”
“Of course you don't.” Fred said, mockingly. Percy left the room, a smile on his face.
Fred turned to Ginny, who was still holding the stone, still slightly surprised about Percy's sudden change.
“He's a mystery to me, that is.” Ginny said, slowly shaking her head.
“He's Percy, what did you expect?” Fred replied, shrugging. He remembered his thoughts about Ginny and her sudden change in attitude and couldn't help but ask. “Why? You were so confused and didn't want to see me back then, at George's house... And now you're basically Percy's older sister... How?”
Ginny grinned. “Ah well, motherly instinct, I suspect? Can't let yourself break down when there are people who need your help.”
Fred suddenly felt a lot of respect for Ginny, and not only for the incredible Bat-Bogey Hex she could preform. Ginny had really grown up, she wasn't his little sister anymore.
“Percy isn't like this all the time, by the way. He's his usual self on most occasions. Telling stories about the Ministry and about his time at Hogwarts in a tone like he's the Queen of England.”
“Queen of – ?” Fred asked, but Ginny interrupted him immediately.
“Yeah, don't ask. Harry and Hermione have been introducing us to the muggle world over the years. I even know who Rumplestiltskin is by now! Kind of funny, because we're not supposed to know his name... Oh, and Ron is like obsessed with this Sherlock Holmes guy, says he's even better than Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle.”
“Uhmm... Right. How's Arnold, anyway?” Fred asked, matter-of-factly, trying to stick to subjects he could understand.
“Who? Oh, Arnold!” Ginny laughed. “My little pygmy-puff... He died a long time ago. Or well, I think he did.”
“You think he did?” Fred was quite curious about this, since he and George had invented those creatures and he never got to see how long they would last.
“Yeah, well, one day he just stopped working, I guess.” She shrugged. “Didn't move anymore, he was just a stuffed toy all of a sudden. It's still on my bed stand, actually.” She smiled and then added in a whisper, “Since it reminded me of you.”
“A dead animal reminding you of me? I feel flattered.” Fred laughed.
“You should, he was awesome. Though the second one I had was better than Arnold, to be honest. I gave one to Lily a few years ago, we called it Kevin.”
“Kevin? Was that all you could think of?”
“Of course you'd have liked it better if we'd called it Fred, wouldn't you?” Ginny raised her eyebrows.
“Exactly! Fred... Such a wonderful name!”
They both laughed.
“Thanks for teaching me to laugh, Fred.” Ginny said suddenly, sounding extremely serious and looking at her feet. “You taught me nothing is impossible, as long as you have enough nerve. And I love you.”
Fred smiled, saying goodbye to Ginny seemed so hard compared to the others. “I love you too, little sis. Don't forget about me, will you?”
“Never.” she said simply. She smiled once more before putting the stone down in front of Fred's feet and walking away. “I wouldn't be able to ever forget you, even if I wanted to.” she said before closing the door behind her.
Fred held his breath for a moment. Damn, this goodbye-thing was much harder than he thought it would be. Saying his 'last words' to everyone he once had been close to was slowly killing him inside, irony intended. At least the others seemed to be better off with these goodbyes, everyone had left this room smiling, sort of. And, ticking off names on an imaginary list of people who'd visit him, he realised there were only a few more goodbyes to be said. Two, to be exact.
At that exact moment the door opened and Ron stepped in. He had a little note clenched in his hand and sighed as he saw the room. “Bloody hell, Harry, this is worse than our Gryffindor dormitory...” Shaking his head, he suddenly noticed the little black stone on the floor and, with a questioning look on his face – Oh Ron, you look so intelligent when you do that, Fred thought, snorting –, picked it up.
Holding the stone in his hand, he looked at Fred. Just looked.
“Ehm... Hi Ickle Ronniekins?” Fred tried
“Fred! I – I don't know what to say...” Ron said, his expression vacant.
Fred pointed at the note in his hand. “You could start to explain what that is. And please don't say a thing about me not having changed at all, I know that by now.”
Ron looked at the note in his hand as if he saw it for the first time in his life. “Oh, right.” He unfolded it and his eyes flew across the lines written on it. “Hermione's idea. She told me this would happen, me not being able to say anything that makes sense. Told me to write down what I wanted to say. Smart of her, really.”
“I bet so.” Fred said, wrinkling his eyebrows.
“Wha– Ah well, never mind. Here I go.” Ron said, straightening the little paper before clearing his throat and starting to read it out. “Dear Fred.” He sighed. “I miss you. I know it sounds silly and you're probably laughing at me right now for saying so, but I really do. You were always there to cheer us up when we felt down, always there to make a fool of us whenever we did something wrong. You scarred me for life when you changed my teddybear into a giant spider, you made me nearly choke on my food whenever you joked about Percy during dinner, you mocked me when I became a Prefect, you made mum yell at you like she never did at anyone else, except maybe Mundungus, you made life so much better with your joke shop when times were dark. In short, you made us laugh when no one else could.
But still, when we needed you the most, when we needed a joke or a nasty prank to cheer us up... You weren't there.” Ron remained silent for a moment, looking at Fred. Fred didn't laugh at all, he listened to Ron's story with an intense look on his face, impressed by Ron's new abilities to get his feelings onto paper.
“Anyway,” Ron continued. “When you were gone, we weren't a family anymore. Mum was broken, Percy blamed himself, George didn't laugh... Without you we weren't the same.”
Fred felt terrible. Again, he never wanted anyone to feel this way because of him.
“Without you we were broken. But slowly, although there were huge pieces missing, we repaired ourselves. We grew up, keeping you in our memory, remembering your smile, remembering your annoying pranks and your random apparating. And we managed. And I realised, as I was covered in white feathers and sticky stuff – a prank I strongly suspect you were involved with lately – , that we could laugh, because you taught us to do so. And that's what I want to remember about you, because that's the best thing a person can do for someone else; teaching them to be happy.” Ron finished his monologue, sighed once more and folded the paper again, putting it in his pocket.
Fred found it hard to talk, a lump had appeared in his throat. “Did that all fit on that tiny piece of paper?”
Ron lauged. “You'd be surprised.”
“Thanks for saying that, little brother.” Fred managed to say.
“Now I'm going to go quickly, or I'll cry my eyes out in front of you and you'll have something else to make fun of.” Ron chuckled.
Fred chuckled along with him. “I'd have enough material to make fun of you without you crying, don't you worry about that.”
“As always.”
“Thanks for taking care of the shop, by the way.”
Ron shrugged. “It was nothing, it wasn't the same with me as it was with you.”
Fred smiled.
“So... I'll go now. I'll see you again soon, right?”
“Right you will.” Fred answered, nodding and trying to smile.
Ron left the room.
Fred felt empty by now, though he realised the worst goodbye was yet to come. How could he possibly ever say goodbye to his partner in crime?