Percy sat on the stone cold floor of his Hogwarts' bedroom. To his right
was a basin of warm water and to his left soap and a washcloth.
"Two very good things. Although, the first part is a little messy, but the end result is very good. A very good thing that I have a room to my self, this isn't something I want to get out," the red head murmured.
Percy unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off, leaving a puddle of white cloth on the hard floor. Realizing that he could not really do this with his legs covered, he divested of the uniform pants also.
He picked up the clothes and folded them neatly so that they would not get creased and wrinkled lying on the floor. He set them on the on the tidily made bed. "You could never tell that a teen age boy lived in this room."
The covers were straight, no stray clothing items on the floor. The bookshelves were full of books were full of textbooks and reference materials. There were no pictures, no games, no knick-knacks, no candy wrappers or any other 'normal' teenage items.
He walked over to the mirror. He was glad that he had charmed it to act like a plain muggle one. He would remove the charm when he left the room but he could not afford to have some of the activities he preformed in that room made public. He knew that he would be expelled for his one broken rule, but it was the thing that saved his sanity.
Looking in the glass, Percy sighed. A pale red head stared back at him. One sacrificed so much to be 'perfect'. His white undershirt and boxers, while pristine in their cleanliness, were thread bare and faded. His socks were unmatched and had numerous patches and stitches. He vaguely wondered if a matching sock existed in the Weasley household.
He ran a despondent hand through his fiery red hair before turning away from the mirror. He grabbed a towel and a box from the dresser to the glass. Walking over to the basin, he tried to talk him self out of the acts that he was about to commit.
It didn't work.
He set them on the floor and sat down next to them. He opened the box and stared at the muggle items inside. Gauze, medical tape, hydrogen peroxide, antibiotic cream and a straight edge razor all lay in the seemingly normal wooden box. Percy was smart and knew that Madame Pomfrey would think it odd that he came in with so many cuts. Each cut that would be so similar to the cut that he had the time before and the time before that. She would become suspicious. So he learned the muggle way to deal with them.
Percy picked up the razor and gazed at the shiny metal adoringly. He brought it to his lips. 'My Savior. The item that has single handedly saved my sanity. I don't know how long I would have lasted if I didn't have my little "escape".'
He glanced at his upper arms and decided that presently there were too many nicks and cuts, so he would have to use his upper legs. He had to make sure that they were in spots that would be covered by his clothes at all times. He rolled up his boxer legs and slid the razor across the out side of one of his legs.
As he watched the crimson red well up from the thin line, he sighed letting the physical pain take over and relieve, at least momentarily, the mental and emotional pain that racked his soul. It didn't make all his sadness go away but for that one instance the pain was truly bearable. It helped cut through the fogginess and self-doubt. And the self loathing.
No one liked him. Not his mother, not his brothers, not his father, not even himself. The only one that had even tolerated his mere presence was his sister. He wondered if anyone knew how hard it was to keep on going everyday knowing that everyone either loathed your existence or didn't know that you existed in the first place. He wondered if people knew how hard it was to not bring razor blade to a throbbing vein or artery, to not help the world and end your miserable pathetic life.
He thought about how the person that everyone loathed and despised was not even the real him. It was the person he made, the masks he wore to protect the vulnerable person inside him.
Percy looked down at the newest cut when the sharp pain was gone, leaving only a dull throb and sluggishly dripping blood. His gaze moved upward until his eyes set on the blue blue veins of his wrist. He wondered how long it would take for them to notice to notice that he was gone, before they found him. If he did, which he never would. He wasn't that much of a coward. 'It'd be interesting to know.'
He figured a day or two. The twins would need to fulfill their 'insult Percy addiction'. They would try to put something in bed or charm something. That would happen. Or they would smell my decomposing body.
He ran the blade across another piece of skin. He sighed in relief. He didn't need to think about those kinds of things when he was relieving his soul… it might lead to bad ends.
He closed his eyes. Suddenly, they popped back open. Something wasn't quite right. There wasn't anything that he was forgetting, was there? Percy racked his mind. He was supposed to be a perfect meeting. They couldn't have a prefect meeting with out the head boy!
He dipped a bit of the washcloth in the water and gently washed the blood off his leg. He then poured a bit of the peroxide on the cuts, hissing as the liquid bubbled on the raw skin. After it finished, he wiped the rest of the liquid off. As soon as he folded the gauze, he used the tape to fasten it over the cuts.
"I'll do the rest when I get back, no time right now." He hurriedly pulled on his pants cringing slightly when the cloth pulled on the make shift bandage. He ran out the door, tucking his shirt in as he walked.
He flew in to the Great Hall, where the meeting was to be held, with minutes to spare. For once he was that no one really paid him attention.
The hour passed by quickly and soon he was heading back to his room. He nodded his head as Oliver Wood yelled out his name.
Maybe someone noticed him after all.
Oliver watched as Percy walked by, confused at the large red stain on the leg of his pants.
"Two very good things. Although, the first part is a little messy, but the end result is very good. A very good thing that I have a room to my self, this isn't something I want to get out," the red head murmured.
Percy unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off, leaving a puddle of white cloth on the hard floor. Realizing that he could not really do this with his legs covered, he divested of the uniform pants also.
He picked up the clothes and folded them neatly so that they would not get creased and wrinkled lying on the floor. He set them on the on the tidily made bed. "You could never tell that a teen age boy lived in this room."
The covers were straight, no stray clothing items on the floor. The bookshelves were full of books were full of textbooks and reference materials. There were no pictures, no games, no knick-knacks, no candy wrappers or any other 'normal' teenage items.
He walked over to the mirror. He was glad that he had charmed it to act like a plain muggle one. He would remove the charm when he left the room but he could not afford to have some of the activities he preformed in that room made public. He knew that he would be expelled for his one broken rule, but it was the thing that saved his sanity.
Looking in the glass, Percy sighed. A pale red head stared back at him. One sacrificed so much to be 'perfect'. His white undershirt and boxers, while pristine in their cleanliness, were thread bare and faded. His socks were unmatched and had numerous patches and stitches. He vaguely wondered if a matching sock existed in the Weasley household.
He ran a despondent hand through his fiery red hair before turning away from the mirror. He grabbed a towel and a box from the dresser to the glass. Walking over to the basin, he tried to talk him self out of the acts that he was about to commit.
It didn't work.
He set them on the floor and sat down next to them. He opened the box and stared at the muggle items inside. Gauze, medical tape, hydrogen peroxide, antibiotic cream and a straight edge razor all lay in the seemingly normal wooden box. Percy was smart and knew that Madame Pomfrey would think it odd that he came in with so many cuts. Each cut that would be so similar to the cut that he had the time before and the time before that. She would become suspicious. So he learned the muggle way to deal with them.
Percy picked up the razor and gazed at the shiny metal adoringly. He brought it to his lips. 'My Savior. The item that has single handedly saved my sanity. I don't know how long I would have lasted if I didn't have my little "escape".'
He glanced at his upper arms and decided that presently there were too many nicks and cuts, so he would have to use his upper legs. He had to make sure that they were in spots that would be covered by his clothes at all times. He rolled up his boxer legs and slid the razor across the out side of one of his legs.
As he watched the crimson red well up from the thin line, he sighed letting the physical pain take over and relieve, at least momentarily, the mental and emotional pain that racked his soul. It didn't make all his sadness go away but for that one instance the pain was truly bearable. It helped cut through the fogginess and self-doubt. And the self loathing.
No one liked him. Not his mother, not his brothers, not his father, not even himself. The only one that had even tolerated his mere presence was his sister. He wondered if anyone knew how hard it was to keep on going everyday knowing that everyone either loathed your existence or didn't know that you existed in the first place. He wondered if people knew how hard it was to not bring razor blade to a throbbing vein or artery, to not help the world and end your miserable pathetic life.
He thought about how the person that everyone loathed and despised was not even the real him. It was the person he made, the masks he wore to protect the vulnerable person inside him.
Percy looked down at the newest cut when the sharp pain was gone, leaving only a dull throb and sluggishly dripping blood. His gaze moved upward until his eyes set on the blue blue veins of his wrist. He wondered how long it would take for them to notice to notice that he was gone, before they found him. If he did, which he never would. He wasn't that much of a coward. 'It'd be interesting to know.'
He figured a day or two. The twins would need to fulfill their 'insult Percy addiction'. They would try to put something in bed or charm something. That would happen. Or they would smell my decomposing body.
He ran the blade across another piece of skin. He sighed in relief. He didn't need to think about those kinds of things when he was relieving his soul… it might lead to bad ends.
He closed his eyes. Suddenly, they popped back open. Something wasn't quite right. There wasn't anything that he was forgetting, was there? Percy racked his mind. He was supposed to be a perfect meeting. They couldn't have a prefect meeting with out the head boy!
He dipped a bit of the washcloth in the water and gently washed the blood off his leg. He then poured a bit of the peroxide on the cuts, hissing as the liquid bubbled on the raw skin. After it finished, he wiped the rest of the liquid off. As soon as he folded the gauze, he used the tape to fasten it over the cuts.
"I'll do the rest when I get back, no time right now." He hurriedly pulled on his pants cringing slightly when the cloth pulled on the make shift bandage. He ran out the door, tucking his shirt in as he walked.
He flew in to the Great Hall, where the meeting was to be held, with minutes to spare. For once he was that no one really paid him attention.
The hour passed by quickly and soon he was heading back to his room. He nodded his head as Oliver Wood yelled out his name.
Maybe someone noticed him after all.
Oliver watched as Percy walked by, confused at the large red stain on the leg of his pants.