El Camach 22 July 2009 W
JKR, not me.
Percy fic, after the war. Arthur connects with his son. Some Percy/Oliver slashiness.
Italics indicate thoughts.
Out of Your Sight, Out of My Mind
It happened so quickly. One of those…fluke things that people do when they're bored and some poor sod wanders into their midst. Percy Weasley was walking back to his flat from his Apparation spot. Work at the Ministry was dull and demanding, but Percy enjoyed hard work. It was quite late, for he had stayed afterhours to finish a report (that, of course, wasn't even expected for another week).
The next morning, a Muggle found him unconscious and bleeding in an alleyway near his house. He had been attacked by a group of wizards, most likely led by that brute, Marcus Flint, who were in his year at Hogwarts. A "hate crime," it could be called. Percy had finally come out. After almost a year of pestering from Oliver, he and his love had decided to stop hiding. It figures, thought Percy, that this would happen only a few days after we went public.
The Mediwizards were notified and Percy was rushed to St. Mungo's. He was still unconscious as the Mediwizards began their diagnosis, yet he seemed to be viewing the whole scene from above. It was like some kind of…out-of-body experience. It was eerie; he could see his unconscious self, the St. Mungo's staff…and his family. Percy hadn't spoken to or seen his family in a long time. After the war, things went back to normal… well, nothing could be normal again. Fred was gone. The family dynamic was broken. Percy felt very responsible for his brother's death and, even though his family didn't blame him, he like a burden to them, a reminder. So, he had separated himself from his family, retracting from everything but work, and Oliver. And yet, there they were…all 7 of them. And they even looked sad. Molly was crying, sitting on the edge of Percy's bed, stroking his hair. Someone had taken his glasses off. Oh, thought Percy. He saw his glasses on the bedside table, one lens cracked and broken. No one even thought to mend it, but, then again, they are a bit fussed about me at the moment.
"…Molly, Arthur… He's been cursed, well…we don't know exactly with what. There seem to be quite a few marks and we can't seem to discern what curses were used, yet. We've done all we can. But… well, there's little more we can do. He…may not wake up. I'm so sorry."
Oh, thought Percy. I might not be okay. Hm.. The spectral Percy looked back onto the scene of his family. Bill and George were helping his mum off the bed. Getting a cup of tea, I suppose. Mum needs it. His poor mother. So much loss. Percy had heard a fellow Ministry worker say that there is nothing so hard as losing a child. And poor Molly. Now she would lose two. Ginny sniffled as she walked out, and Ron took a long look at his brother's body before he crossed the threshold out of the room. Percy noticed, though, that his father remained.
Percy never remembered his father looking so old. Arthur was always quite thin, just as Percy was, but he never looked so defeated. He rubbed his pale face as he took off his glasses and set them next to Percy's broken ones. Percy's spectral form drifted close to his body and his father. Arthur stared at his third son for a long time.
"Oh, Percy…" Arthur more breathed the words that spoke them. "Why didn't you just tell us?"
Tell you what, Dad?
"Oliver came as soon as he heard."
Oh.
"I thought you were just flat-mates. But I…well, your mother was a bit shocked; you know how much she wants about 50 grandchildren. But she's okay. Bill and Ginny seemed to know. Did you tell them? Or maybe Ginny just guessed. She's very smart… We haven't told Charlie or George. Ron I think figured it out. Talked to Ginny, maybe. Oh, Perce."
His father dropped his head into his hands. It was with watery eyes that he finally looked up again at his unconscious son. Percy's conscious mind longed to reach out and take his father's hand.
"I don't mind, Percy, really. I…" Arthur took a deep breath. "It's been so difficult…for all of us, first with Fred…gone, then with you leaving." Arthur sighed. "I just wish you would have told us. We…we could have been there for your, to help you through this. And, hah, I mean, I like Oliver a lot. And I like him that much more if he makes you happy"
Arthur smiled sadly at his son. His voice broke when he spoke again.
"You can't leave us like this."
Finally, Percy reached out andplaced his spectral fingers on his father's hand, to assure him that he would be okay, that he loved him, that he wouldn't leave them again. The moment Percy touched his father, Arthur's head snapped up. He looked around, startled, searching for the source of the warmth he just felt on his hand.
Oh. You can't see me. But perhaps…
Percy's spirit lay itself down, hovering above his body. With a long exhale, he felt himself slip back into the warmth of his own skin. His vision changed. He was no longer above the scene, but peeking at his father through blurry eyes. He stirred slightly. Arthur stiffened at his side.
"..Hi, Dad."
If anyone else had been in the room, perhaps they would have noticed a small change on the bedside table. Where before two pairs of glasses lay, one whole and one broken, there, in that moment, lay two, whole, identical pairs.