So this song came up on the radio a couple of days agao, and although I've always loved this song, this time it somehow made me think of Percy Weasley. The third paragraph popped into my head and I couldn't just let it stay hidden there forever, could I?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling. The song "Untitled" belongs to Simple Plan. No copyright infringement intended.
I open my eyes
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white lights
It is quiet. From time to time the old wood in the ceiling creaks, and a bird is singing outside. That's all. Even the ghoul hasn't made a sound all day. The silence is unnerving, it isn't right, and maybe this is the reason why he has woken up.
When Percy opens his eyes, he has to blink hard against the bright light coming from the window. He puts on his glasses to see more clearly and wonders why it isn't as dark as it should be at night.
It takes him a couple of minutes to realize that it's not the middle of the night. It's the afternoon, which means that he has slept for one and a half days.
One and a half days ago he fell asleep wishing he'd wake up to another reality.
I can't remember how, I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight
The last 48 hours are nothing but a blur of images and noises, and Percy can't quite remember how he ended up in this room - his room – after all. It's weird, he thinks, that after all this time his subconscious mind hasn't forgotten the twentyfive stairs and nine steps that lead from the kitchen to his bedroom.
His bedroom, which he hasn't set foot in since a time that seems both a lifetime and a blink of an eye away. There are still the same posters of Puddlemere United on the wall, old books ("Transfiguration for Beginners", and Percy wonders why it's here instead of having been handed down to Ginny) and a pile of folders on the desk beneath the window.
His childhood refuge. There was a time when he'd thought he'd never see it again. And now he is here, staring at the ceiling and wondering why being here still feels so wrong when returning to his family is the only thing he has ever done right.
And I can't stand the pain
And I can't make it go away
No I can't stand the pain
His head is throbbing. It hasn't really stopped hurting ever since – no. He won't think of that one moment when his world fell apart. He forbids himself to think about it, and deep inside he is even grateful for the headache because it keeps the other pain at bay. It's probably a concussion and he ought to have let Madam Pomfrey have a look at it, but he doesn't care. The pain will fade, he knows it. It's only physical, he can deal with it.
The hurting inside is different. He doesn't know how he will ever be able to cope with that.
Somehow he can't help but think that it serves him just right.
Everybody's screaming
I try to make a sound but no one hears me
As he enters the living room, nobody but his father even so much as looks at him. The older man's eyes show a mix of emotions – sorrow, pity, grief. Charlie doesn't look at him but is sitting with his face buried in his hands. Percy wonders if he has been in bed at all. George is sitting in the old armchair with his knees drawn up to his chin, staring blankly at the white wall, and Percy's heart is breaking.
Nobody's speaking, and the silence is too much for him to take. It echoes in his ears, screaming at him, and all he wants to do is cover his ears and shut out the world.
I'm slipping off the edge
I'm hanging by a thread
I wanna start this over again
His mother enters the living room just as he is about to leave.
"Percy", she says, "You're awake." Her voice is hoarse and her eyes are blood-shot, and for a short moment he intents to hug her simply because she is his mother and they're grieving and it's the normal thing to do when you're a child being haunted by nightmares.
But instead he stands still, nods, and hopes that she understands what he can't say.
And miraculously, she does. After all this time and all the things he's said – and which he wants to make unsaid so badly – she can still read his mind like she did when he was a child. Somehow, Percy is relieved that she doesn't say more. He knows that one single word could be enough to break him.
So I try to hold on to a time when nothing mattered
And I can't explain what happened
And I can't erase the things that I've done
He inhales the fresh air, a cool wind is rustling the leaves of the old apple trees, and before he realizes what he is doing, Percy slumps down on the grass. He leans his back at the old tree and closes his eyes.
The air is buzzing with the sound of birds, some bees, a cricket in the distance, childhood memories. They still linger here, after all this time it feels like he could just reach out his hand and touch them.
Quidditch matches between the trees, snowball fights on Christmas mornings, hide and seek behind the shed.
The best days of his life, and still he gave them away. For what? Percy has spent many nights trying to find an answer to this, but has never found any. It doesn't make sense in retrospective, although it felt so damned right back then. Now he'd give anything for a second chance.
Life is no game, and you can only live it once. Percy knows that his parents have forgiven him. So has Bill. Charlie is fighting against his own guilt, he knows that. His older brother still blames himself for having been away for too long.
But despite being far away, Charlie has never abandoned his family. That's the difference.
He doesn't know what George is thinking. His twin has just died and gone forever – he has other things to worry about than the prodigal son who lives.
They all seem to be okay with him being part of the family again. His father might even say that he has always been a part of the family.
So why does he feel alone?
How could this happen to me
I've made my mistakes
Got no where to run
The night goes on as I'm fading away