Characters: Percy, Fred, little Molly, George
Summary: The shop, after Fred.
Pairings: None
Author's Note: This can be considered a companion piece to Whatever Remains of Home and to my Prodigal Son series at large as well, though I suppose that if you wanted to stretch canon enough you could read this as an independent piece.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Something felt wrong immediately when he stepped into the shop after George, little Molly balanced securely in his arms (Percy didn't trust a shop run by the Twins—just George now, he reminded himself with a pang and a jagged feeling in his throat). Percy hadn't been able to pinpoint the source, hadn't been able to discern what made everything feel wrong when he first entered the shop. It just did. The air was thick, even accounting for the dust, and it seemed like a place where ink and shadows was supposed to bleed from the walls.

Something wrong, something incredibly wrong.

The third morning that he was there, coming down in the morning as the process of getting Weasley's Wizard Wheezes back open for business, that was when Percy realized what was wrong with the shop, what seemed so out of place.

His eyes scanned the shelves from the staircase, watching George make his progress.

It was too quiet.

—Fred had always been the more talkative Twin.—

It was entirely too quiet, and Percy and George couldn't banish the silence the way Fred could have because Percy was by nature quiet, George was by nature quiet, and they had nothing to say to each other. Fred could have filled a room with talk and laughter. He could have made this shop come alive. But Fred wasn't here to make the shop come alive.

As Percy started going over the wares to check for damage, he could hear Fred's voice, a small presence balanced on the shell of his ear.

You know, I didn't help raise this shop for it to be a place of silence. You're draining the life out of the room, Percy. Can't you just try to be cheerful for once? I don't know who said it would kill you to be cheerful, but it won't.

Why do you have to suck the life out of every room you enter?

Why can't you just try to talk?

Ah.

You're no me, so you can't do it. Oh yeah, that's admirable.

Percy gritted his teeth, and tried to ignore him.

It was just too quiet.