Percy used to thing that here was nothing about death that wasn't logical. Nobody could truly avoid death. Some had tired, more had failed. It was inevitable. It waited, watching, pondering the best way to come. It always came. Logically, Percy Weasley knew that everybody had to die at some point in their lives. It was the way of life. People died. Logically, he knew that he was going to lose people; he knew he was going to lose members of his family eventually.
He had not expected for it to happen so soon, however.
He remembered very clearly the day his grandmother had died. He had been young, only about seven, and hardly understood what was happening. He remembered his mother crying, which he had only seen a few time in his short life, and hugging him. His grandmother, or Nan Nan, had been old. He had been sad. He did not like to see his mother so upset. He hardly knew his Nan Nan, but he still loved her all the same. Even at the young age of seven he had told himself that it was okay that his Nan Nan had died, because, logically speaking, everybody died eventually. It made him less sad, he had discovered, to think that it wasn't just him and his family that was suffering. Everybody lost somebody. It wasn't just him.
He had almost forgotten what it felt like to lose someone. It had been so long since his Nan Nan had died, Percy found he had completely forgotten the pain. He had rationalized it to the point that he separated himself from his feelings of sadness.
He couldn't rationalize what happened to Fred. It wasn't logical.
Percy, for all his intelligence and quick wit couldn't seem to think and postulate a reason for why Fred died. It made no sense to him.
He wasn't sure if anything would every make sense to him.
He went through what happened more times than he could count. He saw it happening a million times over. He couldn't sleep without seeing him. Fred smiled at him in his dreams. He smiled at him like he had been the last time. That smile, one that was burned into Percy's mind, would be there forever; haunting him, reminding him.
Most people didn't notice that Fred and George had different smiles. Percy noticed, of course. He noticed everything. He had often thought he should have been sorted into Ravenclaw. He didn't think of himself as particularly brave, as evidenced by the way he handled Fred. He should have been able to put on a brave face. He should have been able to hold and comfort his mother like she had done for him when Nan Nan died. He couldn't. All Percy could do was think. He tried to think of why it might have happened at first. He tried to think of why, or what, they might have done to warrant such a thing. He had always told himself that there was always a reason. His Nan Nan had been ancient. Fred was barely nineteen. He had had so much to do, so much to offer. Percy didn't really see why it should have been Fred's time to go.
It had taken Percy some time to come to terms with the fact that logic had nothing to do with what had happened.
That made him happy. He loved logic. He did not like to think that one of his favorite things would have had anything to do with his younger brother's death.
At least that was something.
Percy had never felt so confused and stupid in his entire life. He was normally so in control of his mind and its processes. He was meticulous. He was thorough. He was foolishly proud of how smart and logical he had always been.
It did him very little good when he imagined he needed it the most, however.
His smarts and logic did him very little good when trying to deal with the horrendous death of his younger brother. It did nothing for him when trying to be there for his family. He did not know how to hold his mother and tell her that it would be okay. It wouldn't be okay.
How could it be?
Percy, for the first time in his life, had no answer. He had no words, no jewels of wisdom, no offerings of solutions. There was no answer besides the one that none of them wanted to say out loud. Fred had died fighting the Death was no other way to reason it. He had died fighting for something he believed in. Percy didn't think he should have been there in the first place. He and George should have been at their joke shop, planning ways to make people happy.
That was what they were good at; making people forget their problems and smile.
Percy had never been able to do that. He was too dry, too uptight, too logical.
He wouldn't be able to make people smile after all that had happened. Fred would have been able to. Fred would have been able to help people move on from the terror of Voldemort. He would have been able do something that no one else could.
Percy had always used to scoff at the ideas the twins came up with. It wasn't a logical source of income in his mind. He hadn't been able to see the merit, at the time, of a joke shop when there was real work to be done.
He hated that he ever thought that, now that he truly understood.
What good was logic, anyway? He didn't real think it was all it was cracked up to be. It had been his crutch, his source of power. He couldn't help but disdain it.
There was no logic in Fred's death.
It should have been Percy. It should have been him. He had been there, when it happened. He had been the one to see him. He had been the one that was supposed to protect him. He was the older brother after all. He knew, from the moment it happened, that it should have been him. Percy couldn't make people smile the way Fred had been able to. He couldn't make them laugh. He couldn't make them happy. The world needed Fred and George in the times they were in. They didn't need Percy. They didn't need him.
They needed Fred.