Much as I dislike Percy, I felt compelled to write this story about him. Plus I was watching Lost last weekend and one episode in particular stuck with me... maybe those of you who watch the show know what I'm talking about and can see where this is going. I sure hope not. I hate people who spoil the surprise.

Set near the end of DH, this is the story of Percy's struggle to come to terms with Fred's death... though in a rather unusual way. I hope you all enjoy this, it's the result of a late-night global homework session and my overactive, plagiarizing mind. (It just took me like 10 minutes to remember the word "plagiarism". That's how tired I am.)

Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm American. J.K Rowling is British. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

Percy Weasley stood numb with shock in front of the gravestone of his little brother. Even though Fred had died a whole week earlier, he still found it hard to believe that he was gone forever. All around him, Fred's family and friends stood around the grave, some weeping openly, others doing their best to put on a brave face for the grieving family. The funeral had ended nearly twenty minutes earlier, yet most of the mourners were still there, finding it nearly impossible to say goodbye to their beloved prankster.

One mourner in particular, however, stood out in the crowd. Fred's twin brother stood a little apart from the others, his only outward sign of sorrow being the large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey that he was polishing off by himself. Frowning slightly, Percy made his way over to George, trying to ignore how much he looked like the brother he would never see again.

"Do you seriously have to do that right now?" he asked his younger brother, irritated.

Though more than half the bottle of firewhiskey was gone, George was still standing quite steadily. "'S good stuff, this Ogden's," he told Percy matter-of-factly. "Only the best for my brother." As he spoke, he raised the bottle to the freshly carved headstone. "Here's to you, Fred," he said solemnly, pouring out a considerable amount of alcohol onto the grave.

"Stop that," Percy told him forcefully, seizing his wrist to pull the bottle upright. "What's Mum going to think of that kind of behavior?"

"I don't think she minds," said George, swaying slightly as he stole a glance at their inconsolable mother, who was sobbing as she gripped Fred's headstone, their father attempting to drag her away. Sighing, Percy left George to his drinking as he went to stare at the headstone once more:

Fred Gideon Weasley

1 April 1978 – 19 May 1998

"Mischief managed"

Percy wiped away the tears under his glasses that he hadn't even known were there until now. Seeing those words carved in the cold stone drove home the reality that Fred was gone forever, that Percy would never be able to see or talk to him again, never be able to share a stupid joke with him –

"I wish I could go back," he whispered so softly that no one could hear him. "If only I could go back to the battle… I'd be able to save him, I know it…" The tears were falling faster now, and he made no attempt to wipe them away. The fact was that he blamed himself for letting Fred get killed; he knew that if he hadn't tried to joke around with him, there was a chance that Fred might have gotten out of the way of that crumbling wall, and that none of them would be here right now. Everything would go back to normal, if only Fred was still alive.

"To Fred!" he heard George shout as though from a great distance away, as he lit off several Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-Bangs. Unfortunately, George was too intoxicated to know what he was doing; instead of shooting into the air like they were supposed to (or maybe that was just how the fireworks were supposed to work), they shot into the crowd of mourners, making them shriek and duck for cover. But Percy took just a second too long to react to what was happening… he saw a rocket heading right for him and made no attempt to get out of the way.

"Percy!" he heard his mother shriek as the firework made contact. There was a flash of blinding light, a searing pain at the back of his head where it made contact with Fred's headstone, and then –

Nothing.

---

"Percy? Percy!"

Percy moaned in pain, lying on his back. His head was still throbbing painfully where it had hit the headstone, and he made no attempt to open his eyes.

"Perce?" It was his mother's voice, low and soothing. "Perce, can you hear me?"

"Way to go, George!" came Ginny's reproachful voice. "He finally comes back to us, and you go and knock him out!"

"I'm sorry!" said George defensively. "Is it my fault that I missed him so much, I accidentally knocked him over when I tried to give him a hug?"

Percy was bewildered. What were they talking about? Hadn't there been a fireworks mishap? What was all this about George trying to hug him?

"Yeah, good one, Forge!" came a teasing, laughing voice. Percy froze in shock… he certainly had never expected to hear that voice again. Only the complete surprise of hearing it forced him to open his eyes.

"F-Fred?" he said shakily. "Is it really you?"

Sure enough, Fred stood around Percy's prone figure with the rest of his concerned family members: his mother was feeling his forehead with concern, his father was stroking the hair off his forehead, Bill and Ginny were kneeling by his side, and the twins were laughing together at George's apparent clumsiness. The sight of the two of them together was something Percy had never thought he would see again, and the image brought unexpected tears to his eyes.

"Fred!" Percy gasped, jumping suddenly to his feet and rushing over to his younger brother. "You're all right!" He wrapped Fred in a tight hug, afraid that he would evaporate if he let him go.

"Well, of course he is," said Bill, frowning in confusion over Percy's actions. "But he won't be if you don't let him get some air!" Blushing, Percy let Fred go, though reluctantly, still staring at his little brother's face as though he couldn't look at him long enough.

Fred shifted his feet awkwardly. "Well, that's enough of that, Bighead Boy," he said, trying to lighten the serious mood Percy's reaction had created. "Ready to go kill You-Know-Who, then?"

"Wh-what?" Percy stammered, completely thrown by this new bit of information. For the first time, he took in his surroundings: There were Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tapestries hanging on the walls, hammocks all over the place, and a large wireless in the corner. Something about this room seemed very familiar, but Percy couldn't quite place it… "Where are we?" he asked his family at large.

"Um, the Room of Requirement?" said Ginny in a very "duh" sort of voice. "Don't you remember? You just came through that passageway – " she pointed at the back of a painting hanging on the wall " – asking if you had gotten here in time for the battle against Voldemort, and then you and Dad made up?"

And slowly, it was all coming back to Percy… this was the night of the Battle of Hogwarts, no one had died yet, the war was still going on… Somehow – and he had no idea how it had happened – he had gone back to the night Fred had died, only he could still remember every detail of the battle and its aftermath. One particular detail came floating back through Percy's memory, and he turned to scowl at his mother.

"Did you push Fred aside for me just now?" he asked her sternly.

"Oh, thank Merlin, he's got his memory back!" said George in a mock-grateful voice.

Mrs. Weasley turned slightly pink. "Well… yes, I suppose I did," she finally said sheepishly.

"You shouldn't have done that," he told her firmly. "You're going to regret it…" He recalled how for days after Fred's death, his mother had cried over this one simple action, saying how she had rejected her son right before he had been killed, and what a horrible mother she was.

"Um… well, all right," said Mrs. Weasley uncertainly. "I'm sorry," she told Fred, turning to him.

"That's okay," responded Fred nonchalantly, obviously as confused as she was. A rather awkward silence followed, which Fred broke by saying, "Well, if we're done being sentimental, shall we go off to war now?"

"No!" Percy tried to say, but it was already too late. Fred had bounded out of the room, closely followed by George. Percy ran after them, trying to stop Fred from entering this battle. He didn't know or care how it had happened, but he had been given a second chance to save Fred's life, and he would be damned if he let his brother die a second time.

Sorry about any inconsistencies with the book, I don't have it with me right now. But hopefully you all have picked up that Percy's gone back in time to the night of the battle with the knowledge of how to save Fred. Will it work?! If you review, maybe I'll post chapter 2 and let you find out. :)