In Ten Months

by FallenShateiel

PWHP. Professor Weasley is an odd teacher. He's constantly drunk and doesn't like Gryffindors...

Title: In Ten Months.

Rating: M+

Pairing: PW/HP

Summary: Professor Weasley is the most odd teacher. He's constantly drunk and he definitely doesn't like Gryffindors.

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PROFESSOR WEASLEY'S POV:

It's been four weeks and three days.

I know this because I've counted.

I've had to spend the past four weeks and three days teaching such… children.
I sympathize with Snape. I understand how the man could be as nasty as he can. I can get that he only favoured the Slytherins because they are perhaps the only students beside the Ravenclaws that don't have a habit of being complete barbarians.

The First Years are perhaps the only class that I have in which I can deal with. They do have a habit of actually listening to the instructions and being wary of messing up their potions.

Which is improving whether I believe it or not…

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End of Prof. Weasley's POV:

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1 1/3 MONTHS

Percival Ignatius Weasley doesn't know why the hell he's here. There really isn't any reason for him to be here. After all he stopped all talks with his family about his life so long ago.

And indirectly disassociating himself with everything connected with his family.

Which included Hogwarts.

The place he currently resides in at the moment.

He finds it irritating that he can't seem to think of this place as anything as where his life now ends. After all it did start here. Only now ironically he loses any chance he had becoming the one thing he worked so hard for and gets stuck in a job that he would have never wished on his worst enemy.

Well. Maybe Fred and George.

But he wouldn't ever be that mean to any children trying to learn Potions.

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He doesn't really like the circumstances in that contributed to the lack of employment/future at the Ministry for Magic.

Naturally because it was such a mortifying experience he thinks about it ALL the time.

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He likes to drink.

A lot.

And he isn't very nice when he does.

In fact he's a down right arsehole.

Anybody who had caught the Daily Prophet that Fateful Day would know that he is a down right nasty piece of work.

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Yelling obscenities to a priest and telling the homeless to go and get a job.

Obscenities is describing it all nicely. Telling the homeless to go and get a job is stretching at how mildly it really was.

God, was it worse than anything.

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He secretly thinks that Professor Snape was a drinker.

That all that crabbiness was really hangovers.

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His certainly are.

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PROFESSOR WEASLEY'S POV:

I don't really care for FireWhiskey. Or mead. I'm a more vodka and rum person.

Sometimes scotch.

I will drink FireWhiskey.

Doesn't mean I would like to.

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I like to brew Potions.

Always have.

There is a sudden accuracy to everything and all creations must be made to make sense. The correct balances and precise measurements…

I've always liked this.

I once thought of become a researcher when it came to both Potions and Transfigurations. I had the prerequisites to go through the training. And with my Arithmancy I without a doubt would have been accepted at the most prestige institutions.

As it is, I am stuck in a school with hundreds of bumbling idiots who can barely tie their own shoelaces never mind brew something as simple as a Calming Draught.

Then of course, one must take in account all those stupid joke toys they keep on them…

One wonders where our youth are going. With shit like that.

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End of Prof. Weasley's POV:

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2 1/2 MONTHS:

When he wakes in the morning he feels his head pounding and himself getting a feeling of dread at being awake.

Mostly because he spent a good part of the night nursing a bottle beside him while either complimenting himself for his genius thinking at theories of Potions he could improve or create. Or berating himself for sending homework essays to kids who have no grammar, spelling skills and definitely no IQ.

But he has to set the homework essays because the Headmistress McGonagall already talked to him twice about how he's not sending any homework.

He wishes that he could just tell this lady to shove it.

But he still respects and admires her as he did all his student years.

That doesn't mean that he marks the essays properly.

Properly mean 'nice and sober'.

It's more of a 'snarky and nicely hammered by four o'clock.'

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He doesn't care for his appearance anymore. Instead he's stopped eating properly because if he eats then drinking after wards makes him feel sick.

Which one's easier to give up?

It's not that he doesn't eat. He does.

It's usually something dripping in greasy and smothered in chocolate.

More than smothered in chocolate.

It usually is chocolate.

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His hair has gotten out of control.

Curly hair and not wanting to drag a damned brush through it doesn't work.

There goes he only takes baths because in a shower he tends to stumble and end up scrawled painfully on the floor.

So he sticks to baths. Even though he used to find it nasty to be swimming in one's own filth.

He finds he really can't give a damned now.

He doesn't really wash his head.

Mainly because it means bending his overlong legs, emerging himself fully into the tub. And he hates it when he goes back to sitting up right and his chest gets cold.

That. And, because he's too damned lazy these days.

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The black circles under his eyes have darkened.

Not nicely either. They stand out too much with his bright hair and sickly pale skin.

There and the fact he doesn't leave the Dungeons and the light no longer hits his face. His skin now becoming slowly sallow and rough.

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He's had to be refitted for new stronger glasses since September.

He doesn't care.

He mourns the passing of his Special Horn Rims.

These stupid Squared Freaks don't match up to his Special ones.

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Sometimes in the middle of the night. Or day. He just knows he has no class to teach.

Anyways, he'll just sit there either with back leaning on his headboard or on a sofa he has in his sitting room. Just sit there and contemplate his hand.

His left hand.

The one he hardly ever uses.

He thinks it's unfair.

To not use his one hand never really use.

His right hand is the one he uses to stir and write with.

Hell, it's the one he uses when he gets frustrated and or tired and leans on it.

But his left hand is always left alone.

Always.

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PROFESSOR WEASLEY'S POV:

It's perhaps the most tiring thing to have to deal with my estranged younger sister.

Her little 'accidents' have caused more students to go to the hospitals than I believe even Peeves screw up have managed.

I would have her removed from my classes.

But already I can hear the Headmistress's reasoning that I must not allow personal relations in on my professional work.

So I just take in a bitter pride on picking on everyone I know in association of 'Poor Little Ginny' and give all the points to the 'Nasty Slytherins'…

I like to laugh at the thought of what this must do to the rest of the school.

"Professor 'Weasley' giving points to Slytherins and never once to the Gryffindor."

"Hey, wasn't he the Gryffindor Head Boy?"

I get a sort of perverted sense of satisfaction out of it all.

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End of Prof. Weasley's POV:

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3 2/3 MONTHS:

He has been given orders by McGonagall to start going to breakfast.

He is of strong belief of a theory that he put into practice at the last months that he had at the Ministry. Which were either you show up really 'really' late or don't show up at all.

No one will ever question you believing that either you have permission or a very good excuse.

Of course this theory doesn't work in a boarding school. Especially when the only excuse you have is that you're too drunk to be bothered to show up for your first class.

Well, he has tried. He has been there at least 65 of the time. Which is something compared to the rest of the time where he would just give his all his students a list of things that they will be doing. So that they can do it when he's not there.

When he thinks that he has been there 65 of the time he's not counting that either time was because he tardy by fifteen minutes.

He also doesn't like to think he's avoiding the only other red head in the room.

Though he supposes is why McGonagall has gone so long without firing him.

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He doesn't like to eat his vegetables.

It reminds him of his mother.

When she used to force all of them to eat their vegetables.

Ever since he moved out on his own he's found ways of avoiding thinking about his mother.

"Weasley, you have got to be the most unhealthy eater that I have ever seen." The new Defence Professor says this with a slight disgust in her voice.

Percy gives her a once over.

Health freak.

He takes the salt shaker and spills it on everything.

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He finds it weird when he gets a letter.

No one sends him letters.

Even the Howlers have stopped.

But still he rips open the letter and tries to read it.

Only that he can't really.

He realizes that he doesn't even have his glasses on.

So that means that he isn't walking around in one of his drunken hazes where he can't ever figure out what the hell he is doing.

He accio's them and then puts them on.

He reads the letter taking in none of it.

He puts in his pocket saving reading it for later.

It won't happen.

It's just a nice thought to alleviate any sort of guilt he may have in the future.

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PROFESSOR WEASLEY'S POV:

I have no idea how the hell I get away with it.

Even the little girl who always thought that the world revolved around her thinks so. In fact I think the whole conversation/shouting match in the middle of the classroom told basically of an idea how I might get away with it.

"---You only got this job because Mom practically begged McGonagall not to allow you to become some bum on the street. Though you might as well---"

I delicately twirl my wand in my fingers. Smiling dangerously. I was feeling in a vindictive mood.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn.

Twenty-Five points to Slytherin for keeping your side of the room quiet."

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End of Prof. Weasley's POV:

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4 MONTHS:

It occurs to him on a Saturday morning when he's rudely awakened from his rather wonderful sleep that he never did read that letter.

He stumbles off his bed to answer the door. It takes awhile but finally he does make it out of the door way and not into the wall. Again.

"Hello Percy." The voice is brisk and feminine.

Percy would know if it was a female if he didn't have crusty eyes and a visionary impairment working against him at the moment.

"Waarrgkk" He meant to say 'What the Fuck Do YOU want?' however he ended up with a sort of mixture between a growl and 'What'.

He can't really see the person. But he figures that he'll seem repulsive/incoherent enough that they'll leave him the hell alone.

Actually he doesn't really think that they will.

It's more of a hope.

"Why don't you freshen up? And meet me in the Front Hall in about 20 minutes?" The voice and carrier leave as Percy lets the door fall close.

Dragging himself back to his warm bed where he's spent a lot of his time.

He can't sleep so he tries to get dressed. Getting clean pants on before deciding he's exhausted and falling back onto his bed. Where he'll stay until he falls asleep…

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"When I told you to freshen up I didn't mean for you to sleep." The person is in his room.

He pops one eye lazily open. Before closing it and allowing his heavy body weigh him down.

"Get up." He ignores the annoying voice choosing to concentrate on the kink in his back.

"ARRGG!"

He's freezing.

Whoever the hell dared to disturb his slumber must die!

He's forcibly dressed by spells, and has his glasses shoved on his face.

Which he deeply resents.

He 'can' put on his own glasses.

Jeez.

"Come along." Percy only focuses enough to realize that the person in front of him has extremely bushy hair and bossy voice.

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He hates being sober.

It feels irritating.

Even if he's still not completely sober.

He feels like he is.

Having to spell his glasses dark so that the cloudy sunny sky doesn't blind him.

Having to wear a coat when no one else is because he's ridiculously cold.

Having to have an expression on his face that clearly says what he's feeling.

Shit.

"Well. You still like tea right?" The chirpiness of the voice has gone and is replaced by a neutral nasally weird sort- of sound.

Percy snorts.

Tea. He hates tea.

"Coffee." If this devil in front of him thinks that he can be ordered around than think again.

"I prefer that as well."

OK. Who the hell is this?

"I know it's been awhile but my name is Hermione, Percy." She sounds amused.

Percy just rolls his eyes. Finding it stupid she should think he would give a damn.

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He's sitting in a sort of uncomfortable mood sipping his coffee. Which is crap. After all if it isn't strong it's disgusting. Besides there is milk in it. And sugar.

Well, he can live with the sugar.

But milk. It squicks him.

Drinking the awful stuff makes him want to scream.

Or maybe it's the slight pounding stuffy feeling he's getting in his head at the moment.

He looks up to see that the girl is staring at him.

"What?" He's irritated.

She just sighs and shakes her head.

Percy rolls his eyes half way before stopping as it becomes painful.

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PROFESSOR WEASLEY POV:

I cannot believe that I have such a spiteful sibling in my midst.

Barging into my chambers without permission and smashing all my stuff.

Actually the little bitch only destroyed one things of a certain nature.

But one of the cost me a lot of money… I'm lying. I've learnt to acquire a taste for the cheapest.

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It's been one day.

Already I know that sobriety is overrated.

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End Prof. Weasley's POV:

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5 1/2 MONTHS:

Percy knows he's done something to deserve perhaps the uncomfortable tea/coffee dates with a woman who he ultimately has nothing to say to. And she has nothing to say to him.

He makes sure that when she's not looking to work more on the incantations that will turn his coffee to something a tad bit stronger.

It wouldn't make a difference to the feeling both of them get off each other.

But it would make this more bearable.

"So why did you take the job?" It's the first time she's spoken for 10 minutes.

Percy shrugs.

Hey, it's an answer.

----------------------------

He shocks himself when he finally notices that his demon sister is actually Head Girl.

He shocks himself more when he realizes that if Hermione Grannare (whatever, so he doesn't know her last name) isn't in school than Ron and his hip attachment Potter aren't either.

Graduated.

It took him 5 1/2 months to realize that.

He thought he was a bit better than that.

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He's going to try and smarten up.

Mainly because he looked up from where he was just 'resting' his head on his desk while his First Years completed a relatively easy Potion that they've already done. When he got called on it he just said he was going to be testing them big on this one at the end of the year.

Anyways he looked up to find that he was indeed being watched.

By two young men. One of them who looked eerily like him. And the other one with raven-black hair.

The red haired one gave him a rather scathing look.

He took a bottle out from where he had been hiding it and popped the top.
His own Firsts Years are used to him so they don't look up.

But he sort of relishes in the way that the young men just leave.

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PROFESSOR WEASLEY POV:

I don't care anymore.

I used to care what people think.

But somewhere along the line I just stopped giving a good goddamn.

I don't know where it all stopped but I know that it's been recently.

That banshee that they call Ginny is still bothering the corner of my eye.

So is that brown hair bush. She bothers me.

I've rarely met anyone who's bothered me more.

I'm suppose to start writing up drafts for McGonagall on the tests I will be giving my classes…

My life blows.

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End of Prof. Weasley's POV:

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6 1/3 MONTHS:

It's true that it is rather an awkward meeting that these two people engage in weekly.

But Percy still can't help but feel offended when she feels inclined to bring someone else along. Like Penelope Clearwater. Only she felt inclined to invite his dorm mate Oliver to her bed before even he had a chance.

"Hello Percy." Percy gives him a scolding look. Even Bush Hair knows not to try and talk to him when he hasn't had his coffee.

He drinks the hot coffee.

He then starts to think of ways to start sneaking his stuff around with two people possibly tailing him.

"So. What did you do for Christmas?" The kid is still as raven haired and green eyed as he was when he was a First Year.

The question catches Percy off guard. Mostly because he had forgotten about Christmas. Never mind what he did.

In fact he ended up on the steps of a London church with a polka dotted dress and the word 'FAG' written in giant neon pink on his forehead.

But he'll neglect to mention that.

"Nothing. You?" He doesn't care. But he might as well try to be polite.

Harry Potter just nods and starts talking about what happened at the Burrow.

To which Percy is blissfully unaware, as he didn't even bother listening to the drone going on around him.

"Har! Mione! What are you guys doing here?" Out pops three or more red heads heading over to their table where they engage in a sort of talking thing with the two most uncomfortable people in the world.

Percy slips out. Everyone assuming he's going to the bathroom.

Which he does. He just happens to find use for the window as well.

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He's decided that he's spent enough time with just himself.

He takes out some of the Potions journals that were once Snapes and have his notes still in them. Something that makes Percy extremely happy considering he doesn't have to search around for all that stuff.

After all that would require not only work but also a lot of thinking.

It's baby steps he should be taking with those things.

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PROFESSOR WEASLEY POV:

I've read some of the theories that Snape had on the subject of Werewolves. And apparently he thought that it was more than plausible that there could be a permanent fixture on the problem. Since like most things it's virus that mutates into the body and thus becoming apart of the person it can't be cured.

However he thought that it could be trapped into the body.

Perhaps an animagi potion mixed that in with the Wolfsbane meaning that the werewolf would just end up an animagi in his right mind.

I personally think it's brilliant.

Possible?

Oh. Do I smell another essay that could be on the final test for the Fourth Years?

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End of Prof. Weasley's POV:

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7 3/4 MONTHS:

He's sick and tired of being blamed by the girl who somehow coerced herself into the position of being Head Girl.

He feels like screaming at her.

What he'll scream he doesn't know.

All he knows is that he'll be really mean about it.

As it is he does take a lot of points from her house.

Which he relishes to seeing the lose of the House Cup at the end of the year.

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Sometimes he feels as if someone's playing a nasty trick on him.

One that makes him stuck sitting at table listening to two people who have had nothing to do with his life talk. Percy himself will not talk. Mostly because he's too busy thinking about some of the writings of Snape.

And because he has nothing to say to these people.

"…So Molly wants you to come to supper tomorrow night." Percy only caught the end of it.

But he still manages to shake his head no.

Potter looks affronted.

"Why not?" His green eyes are sort of creepy looking. There is something about them that Percy doesn't like.

Percy shrugs. He doesn't feel like talking or thinking. He's having one of his slow days.

"'Your' Mother wants you to come. Which is more than one can say of anyone else!"

"Harry!"

"No. Hermione, he needs to hear this. He's being selfish and unfair. After all he walked out on them--"

Well, Percy figures that if Potter can say that than not only can Percy walk out on his family he can walk out on two relative strangers.

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He's sitting in his rooms. Nursing a bottle that he hasn't touched yet.

He's staring at the wall and his fingers are frozen because he doesn't feel like lighting the fire.

He's just feeling down.

Real down.

He doesn't like this feeling. He has no energy to do anything. Even to think is something that requires a lot of work.

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Sometimes he can't sleep.

That's how his drinking started.

He just couldn't sleep and he hated the thoughts of using a Potion or a Muggle drug.

So he took alcohol into account.

Except he started to take it as a relaxant. Unaware or unwilling to see that the shifts into his personality.

He knows it's there he's had to because of the facts that he's lost his job for the damned thing.

Tonight he doesn't think that even the drink will help him.

So he just lies there.

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PROFESSOR WEASLEY POV:

I've been thinking about some of Snapes' theories. They seem to be more than plausible to me.

Especially the one about the way one could trap the virus of the werewolf and somehow transfer it to an animagi.

It seems to make more than enough sense.

I think that I could try to put the theory into an experimentations trial period.

Of course there will be a bit more than enough problems with the fact there is no sure way of doing such experimentation without somehow separating the virus from something else.

It's just a theory. But one that I think could work.

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End of Prof. Weasley's POV:

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8 1/3 MONTHS

He still drinks.

If all those failed attempts at having peaceful tea were supposed to stop him than that Bush Hair had better re-evaluate her standings.

Something that Percy can tell right now that if he doesn't one day quite cold turkey than he'll never be able to stop the erratic behaviour he displays with alcohol.

He wouldn't go so far as to call himself as an alcoholic.

Give it a couple of more months than maybe he will.

But other than drinking he does do his schoolwork and does effectively teach his students compared to the dismal teaching he has done for nearly 8 months.

He knows that McGonagall is happy with his change of heart in the school.

He's still late for his first class.

But McGonagall managing to change it so that he doesn't even have a morning class forgives it.

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He's growing a bit bitter.

With the way he treats the Gryffindors and favours only Ravenclaws or Slytherins. He would like the Hufflepuffs if he couldn't stop thinking of them as pansies who squeal when he tells them to use the, and he quotes

"Ucky poor dead spiders that are soooo gross!"

He finds them ridiculous. Just as he finds the Gryffindors infuriating with being arrogant bigheads who can't read simple instructions or the rules.

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He's taken to wearing a lot of clothes.

Mostly because he's always cold these days.

He's tired and doesn't go out in the sun. Opting to staying in the dark where the temperature is near frostbite.

It's his hands that he's sometimes worried about.

They hurt when it rains outside. An ache that constantly has him rubbing at them.

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He's not exactly Mr. Sunshine of the teachers. In fact he's known as the most cynical. More so than Trelawney. Which amazes Percy when he realizes that it's true.

He wears mostly black because it seems to create the most heat and look less ridiculous.

Though he doesn't wear robes. Muggle clothes. It suits him better.

His hair has a dry and damaged by fumes look to it. Quite the opposite of old Snapes'.

His face looks like it is trying to swallow in on itself.

Percy noticed this when he looked haphazardly in the mirror one morning.

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He doesn't like to think of the slight burning he's starting to feel painfully around his stomach region.

Nor the fact that his lungs are feeling a lot of phlegm build up these days.

Something he finds disgusting.

Lately he's been trying to fix up some personal issues he has with his life.

Such as what his feelings toward his family are.

Well, its more of a debauching it more. Not a real fix up.

Considering that he obviously doesn't like his own sister. And that despite all the requests to go for tea with Potter and Bush Hair he refuses.

After all just because his family has decided to roll over and play the bitch for the Boy-Who-Lived doesn't mean he has to…

OK. So that isn't the real reason.

It's completely made up and has no actual dealings with reality.

But it sounds good. And is the only one he'll have if he's confronted.

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He isn't prepared to turn and find that Potter apparently has decided to invade his lab.

"I've called your name three times." Potter has inky black hair. The kind of hair that gets all over the place and one cannot put it back down.

"What is it?" He really isn't in the mood for anything emotional or touchy feely.

"I want to know why?"

"You're going to have to be more specific."

Potter sighs.

"Look can we talk and maybe we can have some coffee or something." He looks as tired as Percy.

Maybe Percy can afford being a civilized person for once.

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"What do you want to talk about?" Percy wants to get this over with. After all he does have some experiments he needs to time as well as papers to mark.

Potter picks up his coffee cup and twirls it in his rather big hands.

"You know, I never had any family when I was a kid." His head is bowed and the glasses are reflecting the candlelight off so Percy can't see what going on in those over expressive eyes. "Not family like yours."

The last bit leaves Percy feeling conflicted mostly because he doesn't know what to say to a statement like that.

So instead he opts to just staying silent.

"Why don't you care?" Harry lifts his head. His eyes are soft and inquiring. As if they really want to know why Percy has done the things that he has done in accordance with his family.

Percy looks at the dark murky ness of the coffee in his hand.

"I don't know." He looks up to see Potter staring at him.

He tilts his head. Trying to think of what he's trying to say.

"I am who I am. They are who they are. We are extremely different people. Always have been. None of us have been able to click." He stops. He has no idea where he's going with this.

Percy stares with his big dark brown eyes into Potters.

"We don't choose our families. I know that you know that. Even though I love them." and this is where Percy stresses himself. "I cannot be 'with' them. It's just something that doesn't work and never really did."

He stops.

"So you decided that going away was going to allow them to forget you?" The younger man sounds exasperated and desperate.

"No. I just needed to get away. I needed to be Percival Ignatius Weasley…" Percy stops. He's feeling too emotional. It's not a good feeling especially when he can feel the break down just behind his voice.

"I don't want to hurt my family. But there really has never been anything but a name between any of them and me. There is shame; there is pride, anger, and indignant confrontations. But ultimately there is nothing that binds me to them.

For me to die for them in a courageous act it would be an obligation. Nothing more. Nothing completely pure despite all the good intentions involved. We just don't go together. "

Percy looks up. He's staring deep into those creepy green eyes hoping that this young man can understand. And he thinks he can.

"I decided to stop trying to bring us together in ways that we can never be together.. " Percy takes a deep breath. "That means we cannot be a family. Nor pretend to be anymore."

There is a quiet atmosphere after Percy's little speech.

Potter finally speaks.

"I know how you feel. Not exactly the same but about not being able to feel that love for you family. I used to be like that to the Dursley's. Back when I thought that the reason they didn't like me was because of something I had done."

Percy feels the need to reach over and place his hand on the young mans knee. As a sign of comfort.

He quells that need.

"The only thing I don't think I can understand is how you can love your family yet at the same time not feel a goddamned thing about them." Potter's stare is intense and Percy can feel a sort of accusation.

"I know you love them Percy. Otherwise you wouldn't be such an arsehole to them. The thing I don't know at all is why you insist on telling people you hate them."

"I said I love them." Percy's feeling like he's being thrown into a river.

"But at the same time you say that you can't stand them. How can you love someone you can't stand." It comes out as a rhetorical question that infuriates Percy.

Percy takes a minute to try and calm himself down before he thinks 'fuck it' and goes head on for being an arsehole.

"I don't know. How the hell do you manage to hate someone you've never known?" At this Percy gets up and leans over Potter's shorter frame.

"Tell me, how are Malfoy and Zabini's head doing on the pike? Rotting still or have you decided they mess up the pretty picture of the landscape to cut them down?"

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Percy Weasley isn't man known for his niceness.

Nor has he ever exactly been known for being vindictive and a tad bit bitter.

Yet from the way that Potter reacted one would think he's in league of becoming perhaps the most horrible person in the world.

They ended up scrawled on the floor as Potter started punching Percy in the face. With all his might which quite shocked Percy.

Percy could only figure what the hell was going on seconds before Potter finally wrapped his hands around his neck and started squeezing.

Which caused him to choke and lose consciousness.

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When he wakes up it's to a softness of his bed and the unusual warmth of the fire.

He tries to sit up but finds that his back is in pain. He swallows and his throat is on fire.

He flops back to his bed wishing that he had been a big enough alcoholic to start leaving a bottle underneath the pillows.

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PROFESSOR WEASLEY'S POV:

There is something wrong with the children.

A sort of wrong that one would usually consider good if that meant no accidents for an entire week.

They are up to something.

-----------------------------

It seems I didn't bother concealing the black bruises on my neck.

McGonagall came to my rooms and tried to escort me herself to the Infirmary. To which I had told her that it would be better for me to allow it to heal in a natural sequence.

I don't believe she understood. But thankfully she needs not to.

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9 MONTHS:

Percy has gotten quite a lot of letters of apologies from the man who allowed him to intimidate his students while at the same time earning nearly all of their respect.

Really he should send the boy something to the nature of Thank You. Because he's not so stressed out in his classes.

In retrospect he wasn't before.

But now he's trying to create a sort of system with his drinking. Meaning that he isn't blind drunk when he's teaching just as soon as that door closes for perhaps the last time that day does he become the drunk that he completely is.

---------------------------

"I'm sorry." Percy ignores him and picks up another essay. He wants to get this all done before tomorrow. He has plans of showing his Third Years how to pick some plants that will be good for most of their potions. It will take him all day tomorrow to decide and decipher if what they picked was correct. Seeing as how some plants have more properties than others.

The hand that reaches underneath his rather round jaw lifts it up. His eyes focus on the green emeralds in front of him.

"I said I'm sorry."

Percy tries to move his head from the hand when it suddenly tightens and he's given no choice but to stare at the young man.

He wants to yell at the idiot to let go of him so that he can either say the Killing Curse or give him a stupid answer.

As it is he spends two minutes in a very awkward situation.

"You make me so mad. Just like everyone else who's ever met you. So much more smarter than everyone else. So much more perfect than everyone else." Percy watches with a strange detachment as those green eyes flash dangerously.

"Even when your not fuckin' perfect you still manage to give off a big ARSEHOLE spread across your face." The snarl comes out close to his face spraying him.
Percy would love to take off his stupid round glasses right now and wipe them.

But he doesn't dare.

The hand lets go of his jaw and the person steps back. The look of disgust on the person's face is evident.

The door knocks.

It opens to reveal a red head that pops her head in and squeals out 'Harry!' then looking shocked as said 'Harry!' snaps a 'Not Now!' at her.

He storms out of the dungeon leaving the red head girl standing shocked and looking slightly offended.

Percy goes back to his marking.

"I hate you."

"Twenty points from Gryffindor Ms. Weaslette. For being too blind in hero worship to believe that you could have a boyfriend you can't possibly love. "

He smirks as he hears her sucked in air.

He doesn't bother looking up when his door slams once again.

Percy Weasley finally has gotten to hurt his family.

Calls for a celebration, don't you think?

---------------------

PROFESSOR WEASLEY POV:

I'm feeling like shit.

It must be the fact that I've been trying to quit drinking.

It's not working.

In fact I just happen to get worse headaches and feel more and more like shit. If not worse.

---------------------------

Whatever I'm having a drink.

-------------------------

End of Prof. Weasley's POV:

----------------------

9 1/3 MONTHS:

Percy knows that he's done something wrong. The moment he was told that the Head Banshee of Gryffindor decided to drop his class.

He knows that he'll be receiving a visit from someone he really doesn't want to hear from.

Of course that would mean that he might also end up with more bruises on his neck, which is why he's locked and warded his doors.

----------------------------------

He's drinking some Muggle Bacardi when he feels both his wards break and door slams open.

He jumps and attempts to run out of his sitting room and try to make it to his bedroom… however he was sitting on the sofa that ends up flipping over and falling while at the same time effectively having him hit his head on the corner of the wall giving intense pain.

He's feeling so much pain and trying to sit up to figure out what the hell happened. Unfortunately he's forced to his feet by a pair of hands that lift him too fast.

He can hear the words but he can't place their meanings.

His head really hurts.

He feels himself being dropped to the ground and the door close as the darkness enfolds him.

--------------------------------

He wakes up four days later in the Hospital Wing.

-------------------------------

PROFESSOR WEASLEY POV:

It's all almost over.

Thank god.

----------------------------

End of Prof. Weasley POV:

---------------------------

10 3/4 MONTHS

Percy isn't sure what he's going to now that all the exams are done.

He spent four days in the Hospital Wing. Told that he hit his head on the wall creating not only a deep wound on his temple but a concussion. He also had started to develop an ulcer in his stomach.

So he quit drinking.

Though it has become his habit of wiping his hand over his lips with that sort of need to have something that isn't there.

He thinks about it frequently.

-------------------------

It's only a week before the school year is ended and he has officially been a teacher for 1 year.

Though with the way that everything had gone this year he's amazed that he isn't unemployed once again.

He's in the lab and experimenting while making Poppy's (as she insisted on being called) request for Healing Potions and such.

He finds that he's being interrupted with someone rapping on the door pane.

"Yes?" He's really trying to concentrate and can't really spare a glance behind him if he's to get this exactly as he needs it.

"You know you made him really mad." The voice is feminine and bossy.

Percy feels his narrow shoulders drop.

He doesn't really want to talk about it.

"I don't know why I should care."

"He feels guilty."

"And so he should."

The grabbing of his arm and being spun around isn't something he appreciates.

"You provoked him. YOU hit him where it would hurt most!"

Percy snarls and yanks himself out of Granger's grip.

"WAS I THE ONE WHO TRIED TO STRANGLE HIM! WAS I THE ONE WHO JUST LET A PERSON NEARLY DIE ON THE FLOOR OF THEIR OWN CHAMB--" His yelling is cut short when a figure appears behind Hermione and casts a 'Silencio' on him.

"Leave Hermione. I'll deal with this." He doesn't really want to be left alone with this guy.

"Harry--"

"Please Hermione." She nods and leaves.

Percy looks warily at this person.

He really doesn't want to be here. Especially when he can't speak.

The young man looks at him with sharp eyes and anger.

"I won't be lifting the spell since we don't seem to get along when you can talk." Percy deeply resents that.

True enough as it is.

--------------------------

They are sitting in his sitting room once again.

"I've been told that you have quit drinking. That's good." Potter is the only one who's been talking all night.

And boy, does he talk.

In the beginning it was about how he hated how Percy was such an arsehole and how he got under Potter's skin worse than either Malfoy or Snape could have ever done.

Percy took it as a compliment.

The middle consisted on how he dare tell the Head Girl Banshee that he was gay.

Which if he had been looking at Percy he would have seen a very mean smirk.

He's hoping this is the end.

------------------------

Potter's been sitting there with his head in between his knee his hands covering his face. There has been a quiet silence.
Percy finally gets fed up and goes over to where Potter is and lifts his head. He raises his eyebrow to reflect the thought 'Is that it?'

Potter is staring at him funny and he doesn't like it.

"I've never had sex."

OK. Whatever the hell Percy was expecting it sure the hell wasn't that.

He jumps back and is cursing the fact that he can't say a word.
"I've never had sex." Potter repeats. "So how can I know, never mind you that I'm gay."

Percy assumes it's a rhetorical question that he isn't expected to answer.

"Are you?"

Percy thinks about it.

He doesn't know.

Sex was something that just happened to him. Not something that he had ever sought out…

Potter takes his hand in his. Standing very close to Percy.

"I never thought of the possibility of being gay before or even liking another guy that way until Ginny came and told me what you said. I never felt that cold hard flaming passion for Ginny or anyone else the way that I can't help but do with you…you make me so mad. I want to hurt you and the same time I want to claim you. Which is why I left each time."

There hands grabbing at his neck and he tries to stumble back. But the hands are braced over his pale neck and he's scared to move in fear he may provoke.

Potter kisses his mouth harshly.

No tenderness.

----------------------------------

There is nothing in the tenderness as Potter shoves Percy down on his bed. They are both naked and willing to just go at each other. Something animalistic in the way Potter is doing everything and how Percy is responding.

Percy responds as he does because he has never felt alive and hot at the same time for a very long time.

So when they finally get the clothes off and start just to rut against each other.

Both of their bodies starting to get very interested with each other.

When Percy finally flips them over and starts to attack Potter's neck and starts biting harshly. He gives into the passion he feels and starts to roughly grab every bit of Potter he can.

It becomes harsh and erratic both of them scratching wounds into each other's flesh.

Percy finally goes down and takes Potter's very hard arousal into his mouth. The tip of it past his mouth as his hands tries to keep the hips from bucking into his mouth. He suckles the skin and runs his tongue over the slit…

He gets up and straddles Potter's waist. Taking his hand and putting it in Potter's mouth, having the wet hot tongue lap at his fingers. He then leans forward and allows his body to be prepared by his own fingers.

It's been a long while since he's done this so tad bit uncomfortable. Especially since he's allowed his fingernails to become too long. But he's determined to do this. Even if it might not do anything for him.

He's moving his own fingers in and out trying to stretch himself enough so that he can accumulate Potter.

Finally he closes his eyes to the look on Potter's face. The pure look of arousal and lust. He tries to find his own prostate so that he can try and guide Potter there.

When he does he bucks himself up.

He finally grabs Potter who jumps at the suddenness of the grab and starts to make all sorts of noise as Percy lowers himself on him. The first ring of flesh is hard to come by for Percy as he flinches. The second ring is the one that Potter starts to get very excited.

He ends up with an armful of an almost 19 year-old boy in his arms with his legs wrapped around him. Percy rocks on him as Potter's cock thrusts into his arse. Percy manipulates his body so that it hits his prostate and he's moaning and rocking hard on Potter.

Then the fingernails start to dig into Percy's back as he's flipped over and Potter takes over the entire scene and just starts pounding deeply and possessively and a bit painfully into Percy.

Percy can't help but want it. He allows the harsh bites on his neck as the headboard is thrown noisily against the wall and Potter's grunts echo with the sounds of flesh. The smell of sex heavy in the air as Percy starts to feel himself fall into the point of hot painful intensity. He grabs his own neglected arousal that is against Potter's hard stomach. He pumps it hard and starts to spiral down to his own harsh orgasm. Barely aware of the mop of hair brushing against his face as the bites deepened to draw blood.

---------------------------

Percy's tired and in desperate need of a drink.

He has a nineteen-year-old male who's in top shape sharing his bed and he can't get a wink of sleep. Mostly because he's forced to lie with his legs open or try and teach the other one the joys of being on the bottom.

However, there is one good thing about it all.

There is a glass of water on his nightstand and all he needs to do is mutter the charm and he has a nice glass of rum for himself…

Except when he goes to open his mouth he finds that he can't. That in fact he can't make a sound.

"mm' ercy…" The boy with the raven hair and that goddamned scar has the nerve to basically roll over and squish Percy to the mattress as he sleeps.

While Percy secretly thinks of ways to murder this fuck!

--------------------------

1 MONTH:

Percy's reset the time for this year.

After all a lot can happen in ten months.

--------------------------

-----------------------

Le fin.

A/N: OK. WOW. That was ridiculously LONG. Every time I kept trying to shorten it I would just end up making it longer and longer.