Percy Weasley hasn't had a decent night's sleep since he was five years old. That was when the night terrors started. His brothers teased him mercilessly when they found him sobbing in damp bed clothes from where he wet himself almost nightly. "Ickle Percy's afraid of the dark!" It only made him sob harder.
His parents were concerned. They would have nightly chats before they sent him to bed. "Please don't send me to bed, Mummy!" Percy would wail, his knuckles white on his mother's apron. Her heart went out to him, her little boy, her perfect Percy. She'd look up at Arthur, her own eyes begging and pleading with her husband. But Arthur stood firm. No son of his was ever going to be afraid of something as trivial as the dark.
"It's time to grow up, son," he said sternly, walking Percy to his bedroom. "All little boys must sleep in their own bed with the lights out."
Arthur ignored his son's pleas, prying the tiny fingers from the door frame. He placed his son in the soft bed and pulled the covers up to his neck. "Stay with me, Daddy," he cried, reaching out to hold Arthur's hand. "Stay until I'm asleep. He can't get me once I'm asleep."
"Now, Percival," he said, using the boy's full name. "There is nothing in this room that can harm you. There are no boggarts in the closets. We checked them all last night, remember?"
"But he doesn't come from the closet," Percy whispered, afraid to even tell his father what he saw. "He just appears. He only comes when the light's out and everyone is asleep. Please, Dad, don't leave me."
Arthur patted Percy on the head and walked over to door. "I don't want to come in here tonight, Percy. If I do there will be a little boy with a sore bottom tomorrow."
Percy gulped. The last thing he wanted to do was make his father angry. "Can't…can't you just leave the door open a crack?"
Arthur shook his head. "Goodnight, Percy," he said and shut the door, eliminating the last speck of light in the room.
Percy clutched at the covers, his palms beginning to sweat. Every night it was the same. Nothing would happen until the house fell silent and then he appeared. His pointed nose and black beady eyes staring down at him, grinning in the mad way that he did. The man never said a word, he only stared at Percy with a hunger in his eyes that he never was able to understand.
He shut his eyes tight, his hands shaking as they clutched the sheets. He wasn't going to panic. Not now. Perhaps tonight was going to be the one night that the scary man didn't show up. Percy looked over at his new pet, a rat he called Scabbers and felt a bit relieved. "Will you protect me tonight?" he asked softly. The rat squeaked in reply. A bit of relief washed over him as he snuggled back into his pillow. Scabbers would keep him safe. No harm could come when Scabbers was here.
Percy fell into a light slumber.
Creak
His eyes flew open, the world blurry and dark. He reached for his glasses when he heard the noise again.
Crrreeaaakk
His heart jumped into his throat. Percy began breathing rapidly- short, panting breaths. Maybe it was his Mum and Dad heading to bed for the night or the ghoul that lived above the attic-
Peerrccyyy
His eyes went wide. That voice was calling his name. Sweat poured from his body as terror swept through him. Hands clutched frantically at the bed sheets pulling them hurriedly over his head. He was safe under the sheets. Nothing could get him there.
Shuffle. Stomp. Shuffle.
The blood was pounding in the boy's ears. The noise was coming closer. His breath was quick, a short staccato sound that was barely audibly. Must stay quiet. Must stay still. If I'm still he won't be able to see me. Won't be able to hurt me.
His body shifted as the mattress moved as if someone was sitting at the very end. Someone large and so very heavy. Percy shoved his knuckles in his mouth to keep from screaming. His eyes were still wide, darting to the ends of the sheets making sure there were no openings. No one could get in if the sheet was wrapped firmly around his body, protecting him from the outside. A soft breeze blew past his ankles. To his horror the sheet had moved, leaving a gaping hole exposing his leg.
Percy felt the mattress shift again. He was paralyzed with fear. He had to close the opening! The man could see him! He reached forward so very slowly, his hands shaking like leaves in the autumn wind. The air outside his small cocoon was so cold, so very cold. It must have been the man that made it cold. He touched the opening and slowly, oh so slowly, pulled the sheet down.
A hand reached in and touched his own. His throat went dry, his mouth flew open and he screamed; a silent gasping wheeze. The hand was missing a finger! Oh god, a finger!
Percy. Good boy, Percy.
He wanted to run away, flee the room, bang on the door to beg and plead for someone to let him out but the hand held him there, blocking his every escape. Percy's body shook violently, bile rising in the back of his throat burning the delicate flesh. There was nothing he could do. The monster was going to take him. He was going to-
The hand vanished. The body that had been so heavy on the mattress disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. All that was left was the squeaking sound of Scabbers. Percy didn't dare leave the safety of his shell under the covers, but he said a silent prayer thanking whatever deity that had blessed him with such a fearless rodent.
He didn't sleep at all that night and when he woke the next morning Molly had another fresh set of soiled linens and pajamas to wash.
"Ickle Percy's afraid of the dark!"
He never had a decent night's sleep- even when he left the lights on. He'd awake to the feeling of that four-fingered hand over his, a silent scream on his lips.