Percy had never been shy of the fact that he had certain favourites - especially when it comes to his family. While he had never gelled well with his more athletic and vociferous brothers as a child, Ginny was someone who seemed to accept him without many questions. Even after all these years, it was her rather than his more emotional parents or excitable brothers he looked for first. “Ginevra,” he sighed dramatically, leaning against the tent pole. “I would expect you of all people to pick somewhere more worthy than a clumsy bush.”
Ah, Ginevra. He saw the grief etched in lines on her face: lines which had been barely visible before Harry’s death. He knew what it felt like to lose a spouse and as much as he wanted to broach the topic, he doubted whether they could both carry it through. Not today, at least. “Well I’m glad I came on the last day. If I see any more of reckless drunk apparating, I might have to call my entire department on overtime.” The sad truth was that there was no trace of humour in Percy’s statement - he would have done it.
“Oh, that’s strange,” he mumbled suddenly, his hand slipping into his robes’ pocket. He seemed confused as he rummaged around before pulling out an Acid Pop. “Hmm. Look what we have here.” He offered it with a flourish to his sister, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Well, we don’t want it being wasted, do we?”
“I’m not a classy broad, you know this, when the family caught wind of me snogging Dean Thomas in public in my youth and it nearly caught their knickers on fire,” she walked over to her brother, and took the Acid Pop from him, a grateful smile on her face as she bowed. They were good at this, quiet moments and teasing, being honest and also burying the truth when it was just too much to face. Ginny wasn’t sure which side they’d be on right now, her mood was predictably UNSTABLE but she knew that she was with a trusted person with her emotions, with her feelings, her thoughts. Percy knew what it felt like -- this brand of loss. “It’s like I’m seven again, you giving me an Acid Pop when I’m sad over something. Like most of the my brothers leaving for school.” It was all so simple then. The sadness could be fixed then.
“I don’t have any candy for you, but I do have something else that may help you calm down a bit and leave your poor department alone,” pulling out a half empty bottle of Firewhiskey ( one she had smuggled in for obvious reasons ), “poison free firewhiskey, Percy?” A morbid joke, one that slipped out and made it obvious as to what Ginny was thinking. What she was feeling. She’d jokingly talked about snogging a lover in the bushes, she’d talked about people LEAVING, she talked about the past. Harry was on her mind, and she wasn’t sober enough to keep her tongue from talking about him around the brother who the intricacies of her pain better than most. Sometimes, she felt that talking to George about losing a spouse was nothing compared to what he had lost -- but Percy knew. He also knew the guilt well.
“Harry didn’t love this festival, he didn’t hate it either. He didn’t love large groups of people, actually, but he’d always BRAVE it. For the kids, for me,” she sighed, putting the Acid Pop in her mouth so she could unscrew the cap of firewhiskey. She took a sip, then handed it over to her brother. “You don’t have to share insanely personal thoughts, if you don’t want to, but if you do I figured the firewhiskey would help.”