A/N This is a bit experimental but I hope you'll like it :)
Oliver was on the other side of the world.
No, that wasn't it… Oliver was right around the corner of his mind. He was everywhere and yet he was far away.
Oliver was just under his pillow.
Percy had it fine.
He was at a good place right now. Secretary for the minister, most trusted person by the minister.
Family could wait, family would wait. That's what families do!
Wasn't that how it always was with family? No matter what, they were still there.
Oliver wasn't… no, he was. Wasn't he?
In his mind.
And who cared what family thought! This was important!
Very important, it was his future, his career.
Family would just have to wait.
Percy hadn't thought of Oliver in weeks.
He hadn't thought of his family much, he had so much to do. He was tired.
There was so much work he didn't have time to think about anything else.
Maybe that was why he didn't miss them, his family that is. But who would miss the twins and their annoying habit of making fun of him?
Percy would.
If there was time that is and not so much work to be done. His head was so full of plans and schedules he forgot to miss any of them… But at night he supposed he missed them.
Was that why he didn't think of Oliver, because all the room left in his head was occupied by his family?
It was one of those nights when Percy came home late, simply crashing to the bed eyelids barely open. The thought of his future kept him going, thinking it would be worth it when he one day would become minister of magic.
He buried his hands under the pillow ready to fall asleep fully clothed even though it was against everything he stood for. He would feel disgusted with himself in the morning. He didn't care, that would be tomorrow. Now he just wanted to sleep.
He froze suddenly very awake. As if someone had thrown cold water over him.
Hadn't he done that to someone once? Someone who bothered him? The twins? No…
Dirty quidditch robes popped into his mind.
He slowly retracted his hand from under the pillow grasping a small piece of paper.
No, not paper.
A photograph!
He sat up clasping the picture in one hand as he stared at it.
Two boys stared back at him, the pale one to the left looked stiff and awkward next to his tan broadly grinning friend. Muscular arm slung around the thinner ones shoulder, shoving him around a bit in the picture. Probably telling him to lighten up and put down the book he was grasping.
Percy lost his breath, no he released it. As if that breath were the memories he had suppressed.
He cried.
He cried himself to sleep that night while the two young boys at the picture still laughed as he held it through the night.
Oliver was so very tired of crying, he had cried enough.
He was pacing.
Who was this man in his bed?
A redhead.
No, he was tired of redheads they just made him feel worse.
A brunette.
This was a girl, a blonde…
Leave…
That's all thank you.
She would leave, he would leave… he left!
He was staring at that same old picture from sixth grade. Marwin was the one behind the camera, right? That didn't matter.
It was just the two of them on the photo and Percy smiled.
He was so tired of crying over it. He brought his wand over the left corner.
Incendio
Fire started eating at the freckled boy's robes, he was till moving around in the frame trying to get the other boys arm of him in a playful manor. Not aware of the flames that were eating him up.
Panic!
No, he didn't want this!
He started blowing at the fire and shaking the picture in the air.
Nothing!
Magic fire… he remembered to extinguish it and there he now sat head buried in his hands, photograph still in one hand as a nervous sweat ran down his neck sticking to the hem of his t-shirt. Why couldn't he quit him, lose him? Get rid of him!
The fire had swallowed Percy's robes but the rest of him was intact, he sighted in relief as he lay down picture pressed to his chest.
A picture can be a link to the things you remember and to the things you forgot.
It's a map to the things you lost.
A picture can tell you one thing… or another.
It can connect people and so easily can you tear them apart. And once you tear them they won't be completely whole again…
Only visibly patched up.
But as long as you keep it, as long as it's yours.
It will matter.
And as long as you cherish it, it belongs to you.
He belongs to you