Brixham House (On Temp. Hold)

5.5-A Tarnished Name

May 2nd, 2004

George watches, amused as Percy stumbles and flushes and fidgets. Until finally he's at the front of the stage, before the microphone and takes a deep breath.

Percy's eyes travel, scanning the large room until there-in the very back, he spots George leaning against the door frame. Arms crossed, dressed in a suit he normally reserves for business meetings but he had taken to wearing at the shop, and watching Percy give speeches apparently.

Percy nods, it's quick and precise then he's shuffling his note cards and speaking.

Droning on about some law he was attempting to pass and the benefits it would have on society.

Last Sunday, at the weekly Weasley dinner, he had asked if any of his brothers would like to come to his presentation. Charlie squirmed out of it, mumbling about house renovations. Bill was taking Victorie to the muggle zoo. Ron and Harry both had work, their most recent case becoming increasingly difficult as they kept more and more of it a secret.

So all eyes fell on George.

Percy turned away, the disappointment evident as he was certain George would never agree. In fact, he shouldn't agree.

Because since May 2nd, of 1998, George and Percy had never really gotten along.

Or they would, for sometimes weeks on end then George would get drunk and he would write a mean letter and he would wish hell on Percy. By the next Sunday, he treated him like any other bloke on the street.

"I'll go Perce-don't expect me to be proud of you though." He had quipped, busying his hand with his beer bottle label as Ginny coughed in laughter and his mother berated him under her breath.

Never brave enough to tell him off outright when it came to Percy.

"I wouldn't dare." Percy attempted, but he turned away disappointed in himself for the odd joke and let Audrey work a hand over his neck, cupping it and pressing her fingertips to his skin.

Which led George to glancing at everyone else at the table. Harry with his arm proudly around George's only sister. Ron elbowing Hermione for some of her steamed vegetables. Bill passing Fleur a glass of wine. His father dabbing his mother on the corner of the lip.

Then Charlie-who caught his eye, and smiled gently.

Percy came trotting down the stage steps confidently, head held high as the room filled with polite applause and crossed the room to the back. Not bothering to reclaim his seat he had chosen an hour earlier, and came to a stop beside George against the wall. Waiting until the next speaker rose, fumbled their cards and began breathing harshly into the mic.

"I didn't think you were going to come." Percy whispered, tucking his hands in the pockets of his suit pants.

George studied the side of his face for a moment. The wrinkles near his eyes. The gray hairs growing in around his temples, the way his glasses pinched at the skin on his nose and the shade of blue under his once glowing eyes.

"I didn't want to." George whispered back, rolling his shoulders. In face he nearly hadn't, spending far too much time in bed this morning but he had taken one look at himself in the mirror after finally pulling himself out of the warmth of his covers, and made himself go.

"I would have understood, you know." Percy scoffed quietly, kicking the toe of his shoe on the marble floor. "Given what today is." He finished in a whisper.

For the first two years after the war, no one came out of their houses on May second. Not during the day time that is. But the bars and the pubs and the dingy clubs on 2nd street, they would be packed the moment the sun set.