poly_chromatic

Entry tags:

harry potter - fred weasley

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[ The feed turns on to flames in a patch of flowers, bright red in stark contrast to the healthy colour of the grass and roses about it, but they don't appear to be burning. Perhaps it's not a flame after all, but rather a particular head of hair - familiar to some, certainly - and then he begins to stir.

Up sits one Fred Weasley, bleary eyed and stretching with a yawn. He blinks a bit, taking in his surroundings curiously before noting the recording device and taking it with a vague sense of amusement. One more yawn and a lazy scratch of the back of his head, and then he speaks with a tired smile. ]

Not a bad place to kip, eh?

[ ooc; Fred returns to the City! He's just woken up in Xanadu, and he has no clue that he's been gone. This is completely open to 4th wall shenanigans of all sorts - only just don't tell him they're characters from a book, and anything from the age of the epilogue will be forgotten after the curse. I missed you all, and I love you. ;; ♥ ]

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May -

[He hesitates, then barges on - as much as he ever barges, anyway.]

May I see you?

[ His frown is visible even from where he's laying, and he turns to look at his brother. incredulous (and nearly amused). ]

Perce, are you honestly asking permission?

Yes.

Well?

Of course, you bloody idiot. That's not even a valid question.

Good. I'll be there shortly.

[And true to his word, about a minute later, there's the crack! of Apparition, then footsteps as Percy tries to scout out Fred's location. When he spots Fred, he stops stock-still.]

Fred.

[And then he's moving in to give him an awkward sort of hug, pulling him tight, because he doesn't do physical affection except sometimes, in extreme situations.]

[ Of all the things he expects of his older brother (which isn't much, he's learned not to because there's no telling what he'll do or say on any given day, depending on his mood or the weather or what political figure decides to use him for his own benefit), a hug is not one of them. Fred doesn't return the gesture right away; he's too busy being completely startled. The last time Percy hugged him willingly outside of social obligation and holidays is probably when they were still nippers, too young to be intentionally cruel but old enough to know that 'big brother' is synonymous with 'protector'. For a brief moment, he feels four years old again, afraid of nothing but entirely safe in his brother's arms all the same - and then his arms wrap around him tightly. Near clinging, near childish, because the last time they had a chance to be brothers was the last time Fred's heart had the chance to beat with the thrill of it. It's been too long, he's been waiting.

'You left' and 'it's your fault' and fuck, he just wants to feel safe here. ]

[Percy is not a hugger. He drilled the instinct out of himself at Hogwarts, telling himself that physical affection was undignified and childish, and that it was just as satisfying to express said affection through words and small unspoken gestures. But Merlin, sometimes there's nothing like some horrifically undignified, utterly childish physical affection to squeeze out all the filth and guilt and just unworthiness that's been building up inside of him. Because it is his fault, it's always his fault every time Fred goes away, it should have been him the first time and it shouldn't have been Fred this time, and if he had just let himself believe -

When he does pull back, finally, his eyes are damp, though hopefully the glint of the sun off his glasses hides it.]

I sincerely hope you're not just here for the weekend.

[ If Fred notices, he makes no hint of it. In fact, should anyone ask later on, he probably won't admit to this ever having happened. Everyone has their moments of weakness, but they are Gryffindors and they are Weasleys and Merlin forbid they forget their pride. ]

What, have we got a joint-custody sort of deal going on now?

[ Why would he only be here for the--? Realisation dawns visibly in his face, and suddenly it makes a bit of sense why Ariadne and Ginny have been so short with him. They all think he'll be leaving again in a few days. And for all he knows, he may be. ]

Bloody Hell. Bloody Hell.

[As Fred's revelation spreads, written across his face, Percy takes the chance to fight back the dampness at his eyes, because he is not about to cry. He has to fight through this and be strong for the rest, and he'll take care of himself later.

And Fred didn't know. Maybe that's a good sign (or a bad one).]

Have you spoken to Ginny or George yet?

I have - Gin, at least. She's...bloody livid, if you'll believe it.

[ Of course she is. They all should be. He is, too. And now, on top of that, he's scared, which can only be covered up with fake annoyance and a bit of cheek. ]

I've been told George's run off on his own. Brilliant, that.

I'll believe it.

[He's been on the wrong side of Ginny's temper enough to believe it without even being told. Of course she's angry. He should be angry, too, and he is, so angry at the city that took Fred away, and angry at himself for being a failure of an older brother, and if he allowed himself to be more of a Weasley, he'd have probably punched something by now. As it is, he simply crosses his arms tightly over his chest, wrangling in all those emotions.]

He's been in the shop, as far as I know. He won't leave.

[ Not to worry, dear brother, Fred'll have you covered in no time whatsoever. Ariadne said the same thing - that George'd be in the shop because he'd been hiding away. That's where he'll be headed after this, and he's fairly certain they'll be out a few products by the end of it. But for now, Fred holds it together, more or less. He's got to, because this is his mess and he's got to clean it up. ]

And what about you? Where've you been running off to?

[He doesn't even argue the 'running off' label, because that is what he's been doing, what he does when he feels angry and scared and confused and like a failure, like he did when Ginny vanished into the Chamber and what he did for two years.]

I've obtained a position at City Solutions.

Ah. Burying yourself in work, now there's a surprise.

[ Meaning none at all. But that's just who Percy is, isn't it? Ever the hard worker. He scrubs both hands over his face, exhaling deeply (too deeply, most people'd need more air). ]

You'll have to forgive me if I don't congratulate you just yet.

[The exhale that goes on too long makes him feel sick and cold all over again, but all he does is look away for a moment.]

I can't say I was expecting you to.

[ And it's precisely for that reason he let the air go. It'd be far too easy to lose it in a shouting match. ]

's good, really, imagine you'd be going bonkers without it. But - [ HUFF ] - now, Perce? Of all times?

If not now, when?

[He's trying not to get defensive. Breathe, Weasley.]

There's still work to be done.

When your family's not falling to pieces, maybe? When George isn't drinking himself into a coma in the shop - or Gin's not closing herself off from everyone in an empty flat?

[ He's getting upset. Dammit, why is he getting upset? ]

When I'm not - off being a completely useless twat in Merlin knows where? We still need you, Percy. We always need you.

[For a moment, there's something genuine written across his face: something like confusion and distress and a healthy dose of just not knowing, and loathing the fact that he doesn't, because he's meant to have all the answers and what good is he if he doesn't?

And then, as quickly as it's there, it's gone again, shuttered behind calm and distance.]

I felt I was doing the most good where I was. I can only do so much good hovering.

[ And for that very brief moment, Fred almost thought they might get somewhere. But of course not. They never do. They might never. So instead he laughs something bitter and turns away, covering his mouth with his hand and not crying, because he does not cry - before turning back with red eyes and a pointed finger. ]

You're a bloody idiot, y'know that? Completely and absolutely thick.

I beg your pardon.

[No, this isn't how it's supposed to be going; they're not meant to be fighting but he can't help himself. He always curls up into his protective shell and it always pisses Fred off. If he could stop, he would, but he doesn't know if he can.]

[ He'd rather a row than the silence from before. He'd rather have it out now before he loses the chance to say -- ]

You're our big brother! Our big, sodding twat brother - and we want you there even when we don't want you there.

[ And maybe that's true of more than just helping Gin and George grieve. Maybe anger and resentment and a string of foul expletives can only cover up so much of how much they wanted Percy with them when he was gone. They are Weasleys, after all. ]

I didn't know what to do! I couldn't help!

[And there's that blasted honesty tumbling out again, and he presses his lips together, crosses his arms over his chest uncomfortably.]

There's nothing to be helped, Percy! You can't fix this with Spell-O-Tape or file through it like paperwork!

[ Percy's folding on himself and Fred's exploding outwards, thrusting his arms out in frustration and speaking too much and saying too little. ]

We're a bloody family, just don't - don't hide from us. You ought to be with us, not ... huddled over some desk someplace where we can't see you.

[He doesn't wince away, stands straight, arms still folded tightly over his chest, hands clenching hard on his forearms.]

I've tried, but there's only so much I can do before it's just like trying to reason with a wall.

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feorge - 2012-02-16 00:27 (UTC) - Expand

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aperfectthird - 2012-02-18 03:06 (UTC) - Expand

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