George never thought Percy was a weakling. He put up with all they dished out. And cried less then Ron. (Granted, Ron was three when he'd made the comparison.) He thought he was disloyal, misguided, daft, obnoxious, and in need of a swift kick to the arse. But it wasn't the same thing. Fred and George had picked on him, but they hadn't let anyone else REALLY pick on him when they were around, either. Well. Call him names and such, because he WAS Percy. But it wasn't like they'd have let anyone really go after him.
He frowned, reaching for the bottle again for another wig, swallowing before he spoke. "He'd have turned us in. And if he wouldn't have, then he acted like he would have anyway, so it's the same thing. He never wanted to say two words to us if he didn't have to anyway, yeah?"