The Pensieve

Posthumous Event

He tried apparating first. The echo of his own snap through the dense forest of the campgrounds reverberated back to him. He looked around, spotted no red hair and cracked forward another twenty feet.

After over a dozen of these, Percy started to feel woozy and still had not spotted his siblings. His next jump sent him stumbling five feet forward into the trunk of a tree. His nose hurt terribly and his glasses were no longer sitting properly for some reason, one eye getting half a blurry view of the world from their askew position, the other had the glass nearly on the lid. He half expected to hear the twins laughing and Ginny trying to muffle her own giggles as he shook his head and prodded the bent nose piece in frustration, the tiny little plastic protecting the metal frames from his nose no longer flat as it should be. His worry only grew when he spotted a crying mother shielding her child, and she watched him, a stranger, in fear.

Screams rent the air, and he looked up too.

They had studied it in History of Magic, Mother and Father had whispered about it with fear in his youth, and drunk old Uncle Bilius used to tell the story to him, Charlie, and Bill about this death omen hovering over Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian as they lay dead in the middle of the street, a story the boys repeated sometimes at night to spook the others. Even Muggles knew to fear this glowing skull in the sky. As he looked up, the snake weaved through the eye sockets and out of the mouth. Someone was dead; that is what the Dark Mark promised.

"Ginny!" The fear, plea, and soul wrenching shout had him running. There was some part of him trapped and believing he would never see her again, having been dragged into that chamber. "Ron!" His kid brother always found himself in the worst situations. "Fred! George!" The twins actively looked for every trouble they could find.

The heavy heat of summer had him sweating, his sticky robes clinging to him. Mr. Crouch would have a fit if he saw him in this state. Bill and Charlie had been fools, leaving him to go find the others, but they'd been injured rescuing the Muggles, so he'd volunteered. It was all going so wrong!

There were people everywhere, yet it felt as if nobody were around. Like a nightmare, he ran through faceless crowds of huddled family's; all of them were shaking and screaming that weren't his.

He wished he were back in school because being Head Boy meant he could demand students to tell him where his siblings were, and they would answer. In Hogwarts everyone knew the Weasley's. McGonagall would know what classes they should be in, if they were in the dorms, or last seen on the Quidditch pitch. Dumbledore would have had them all in the Great Hall again, safe and together.

This was supposed to be a get together for some parlay and light fun of the greater wizarding society. What had gone so wrong?

"Percy?"

He'd been running too fast, an action that he had never indulged in before, but his feet hadn't been able to stop. He was trembling and turned too fast, only to skid on fallen leaves and go tumbling into another tree. There was that laughter.

"Perce? You great prat. What are you— is everyone alright?"

"George!" He smiled in relief, taking the offered hand and jumped to his feet.

"It's Fred." He smirked in that miserable way that they both did; the meaning was never entirely clear, was he correcting you or just trying to keep you on your toes?

"People have been shouting. What's going on?" The other twin stepped up beside him anyways, holding tight to Ginny's hand, sizing him up, but looking concerned for his state.

"You're bleeding," Ginny added, there were twigs in her hair, and her large brown eyes made him wish Mum were here.

"Where's Ron?" he asked, "and—and Harry and Hermione—"

"They got separated." The first twin frowned, looking identical to his brother as he glanced around. "We've been all over looking for them, little twits."

"Probably back at the tent by now sleeping," possibly Fred rolled his eyes.

"That's,"— he swallowed and wiped on impulse at his streaming nose, surprised when it came away covered in blood, when had that happened? —"that's a brilliant idea."

All three siblings looked at him like he'd spontaneously started eating his shoe. His feet were aching so bad it was tempting, just so he'd never have to put them on again. "Yes, let's get back to the tent." His chest was still rattling with stress.

None of them argued. None of them mocked, jested, or even smirked. The twins exchanged a long look, each took one of Ginny's hands again, and they followed him silently back, not even demanding if he actually knew where he was going.

They didn't quite run back, but they didn't walk either. It was a, hurried shuffle, yes, that was the correct word. The ugly brown tent flap was pushed aside in record time, spotted easily from its brightly colored crowd, because just like everything they owned, it stood out for its shabbiness.

Bill and Charlie were inside, his dragon keeper brother tying an old sheet to their eldest sibling while saying, "Sorry, my healing charms are a bit rusty. You wouldn't believe how little of our spells work on their hides—"

"Yes, Charlie. I know. Don't worry." Bill was prodding along the edges trying to make sure they didn't cut off his circulation. "I'm no better, trust me. I always preferred—"

"Bill!" Ginny burst around all of them in a singular moment of dominating the room with her tiny form. She was more like mother every day. "What's going on?"

"Don't worry. The Muggles are fine." He smiled and smoothed out her hair. Bill never talked down to any of them, but he was always the best at sounding calm and assuring. "We got them down, and the riot got pretty hands on as people were shoved around. I got pushed into the way of some peacock that took a nip at me. Who brings their birds to the World Cup?" He laughed and finished the knot himself while Charlie started muttering about his favorite shirt having a huge rip in it.

Percy took out his wand and began trying to keep his thoughts in order long enough to remember the charm to stop his nose from bleeding. He had to go back to look for Ron.

He should tell them, he knew he should, but the words wouldn't come to him. For once, he didn't want to help Bill keep the situation under control, and he didn't want to be like Charlie and loudly proclaim what was going on. He just wanted everyone back in the tent.

"No, Bill, the Mark. What's with that thing? Why were people shouting?" said one of the twins impatiently, but Percy was unsure which. They were still side-eyeing him, usually the twins were too busy laughing to be concerned.

Bill frowned, then turned and looked at him. A warm flush ran through him. He was still expected to know the answer, and he'd been trusted to get them back when even Bill didn't know everything, but finally, Dad entered with the rest of their family, and he knew everything would be okay.