Title: A shirt tells a lot about a person
Beta: Verity Grahams
Prompt: Write about a character winning the lottery and changing their identity because of it for QLFC
A/N: This is an AU where Percy, instead of working for the Ministry of Magic, wins the muggle lottery and becomes the person he (sorta) was when he chose the Ministry over his family.
Ottery St Catchpole, The Burrow, England — 1995
Molly was not stupid; she knew she wasn't, but she could not comprehend how she had missed it before. Maybe it was one of Arthur's hand-me-downs, or maybe it had been stuck between the bedframe and tan walls — but she had never seen it before. The shirt was not made of thick red wool or matted with stains, it was clean and reminded her of cruller with its fluted collar and cool, magnolia fabric that was like water against her warm flesh. It didn't bring about out a nauseating stench, either. Instead, it smelled of lavender and sandalwood — something Molly was quite unused too.
This shirt was smooth and modest, and Molly knew she couldn't have possibly afforded such a thing. They were on a very tight budget and as much as Molly disliked it; she knew each and every one of her children's clothing, and this wasn't one of them, yet she had found it folded neatly beneath Percy's frilled dress robes (ones she had spent hours making for him herself). They were new, and Molly mused on how Percy could have possibly acquired them, and so, with a mother's intuition, she had asked him.
Percy didn't look up at her when she asked, so, Molly - being the pushy mother she was - pressed forward, curious, and concerned, but also scared — not that she understood why. It was just a shirt; perhaps he had gotten it from a more well-endowed friend, or perhaps he had been saving up with the mere scrapings of pocket money they could give him.
It was just a shirt, a simple piece of fabric, so, Molly dropped it, forgetting all about it.
Percy was distant and withdrawn, and it concerned Molly to no end. He would stay up in his room for hours, and Molly wouldn't see him all day, not until it was time for dinner. He would come down the creaky steps with a faraway look in his watery, blue eyes, and Molly would try to talk to him, but it was as if she was talking to a wall. He would not answer her, but he would nod and eat — though most times he would push his food around with his fork — and then he would go back up to his room, and she wouldn't see him again until morning.
So, Molly walked up the dreary stairs and knocked on his door, hoping for him to open the door, and hoping for him to open his heart to her. But, he did not answer, and Molly was tired — tired of not seeing her son, tired of not hearing his voice, and tired of not seeing his warm smile. Mostly Molly was tired of the worried feeling in the pit of her stomach. But, when she opened the door, his room was empty, and his bed sheets were thrown haphazardly across his yellowing mattress. Percy was nowhere to be found.
It made her temple throb as she raced down the steps, staring at her grandfather clock with a high-strung glare — Percy's dial was pointed at home. It made no sense at all! Molly knew he was not home, and as she made her way back into his dirty bedroom, she feared the worse. She feared he had run away or had been taken from beneath her nose, but Molly shook her head before her mind was clouded with a whole range of catastrophic scenarios; scenarios that would most certainly drive her mad with worry.
Molly tore through his bed linens and drawers, searching for something, anything, but all she found was a thin, red paper with a large black star and numbers printed all over it.
It read Lotto.
Fred and George didn't seem to mock or ridicule Percy, anymore, and while Molly was proud that they decided to take that initiative to be a better brother, it was strange. Dinner wasn't by any means quiet, but there was a dynamic shift whenever Percy stepped into the room, and Molly couldn't say she enjoyed seeing the smug look in her son's normally calm, blue eyes.
Fred and George would just stare at Percy. It wasn't mocking or jarring or rude; it was, in a morbid sense, prideful — something that shocked Molly. She knew the twins; they weren't the type to see Percy as something worth looking up to — Percy was, though Molly doesn't condone labelling, a braggart. She remembered how Percy had paraded his Head Boy badge, and while Molly took to feeding his narcissistic, though not purposeful, psyche; Fred and George ridiculed him for it (even going as far as to try and lock him inside a pyramid while in Egypt).
Fred and George didn't like Percy, and though Molly didn't appreciate it, she understood. Sibling rivalry was simply nature.
But, perhaps, Fred and George are just growing up.
It was early in the morning when Percy came home with a young girl strung across his hip, his glasses reflected by the hanging crescent moon. The girl was frail with dainty fingers and a high collarbone, but she was clever with a sharp tongue, and this more than unnerved Molly. She wore black, dragon-hide boots that went up to her knees and silk blue robes. They were beautiful, and Molly began to think that maybe she had been the one to gift Percy the shirt, and she had been the reason Percy had left the safety of their home. Molly didn't like the effect this hussy was having one bit!
Percy was in love, but Molly quickly realized he wasn't just in love; Percy was entranced by her large, captivating amber eyes, and her plait of yellowish, blonde hair. Her name was Audrey; a name Molly thought was beautiful, and she told her so, but Audrey didn't seem to care. This did not help Molly's view of the girl one bit.
Instead, she turned in Percy's arms and kissed his red, stubble-ridden face, saying how he had purchased her all these lovely things for her. "Oh, he's just a gem!" she had said sweetly, a wide smile bejeweling her pink lips.
And, Molly quickly realized her son wasn't in love with her; he was in love with the image he was projecting with her on his arm.
Percy was in love with the fortune he had accumulated, and Molly could only stare at her son as he walked out the door, and out of her life.