Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter.

Chapter 2

Percy awoke the next morning and was overwhelmed with an excruciating pain that ripped through his head. He reached to the other side of bed. "Shannon?" he called. "Shannon, can I get a potion for my head."

The realization that she was gone came crashing down on him when he was met with silence. He pulled himself out of bed and crawled to the washroom to expel his stomach contents. He contemplated Flooing George for one of his miracle potions that counteracted the effects of alcohol. He quickly pushed that thought from his mind and reminded himself that he didn't need to rely on his family.

Once Percy had begun dry heaving he crawled back to bed and called into work to say that he was sick. He couldn't seem to go back to sleep with the blinding pain in his head. He remembered something he had heard Charlie say many years before. "Hair of the dog," he muttered in remembrance, before he crawled downstairs in search of another bottle of scotch. He noted it was the last one and decided he better get some more today.

Days slid by and Percy was still on sick leave. However he was disappointed that the effects of his alcohol were becoming weaker. He didn't want to think about his loneliness or failure. He didn't want to turn to his family and so the only solution was to end the pain.

He found himself in the loo and found a bottle of Shannon's prescribed sleeping pills sitting in the medicine cabinet. He smiled to himself. "It finally ends," he whispered.

XXXXX

Shannon was still weighing her decision. As much as it hurt, she felt she had made the right choice. She couldn't continue a relationship with a man that treated her as someone he tolerated and not someone he loved. She felt she deserved more.

She and Percy had met at the ministry when he was working for Fudge. They had only been friends until after the war. After Fred's death a dishevelled Percy had shown up on her doorstep and broken down in her arms. The vulnerability he had displayed filled her heart with love for the poor broken man. They had married only a year after that night. She helped him put the magical world behind him and supported him when he started a political career in the Muggle world. They returned to the Burrow for Christmas only. They performed magic behind closed doors. In the outside world they did their best to be a Muggle and had succeeded at being perceived as one.

As she thought back on the marriage they had shared for five years she felt absolutely sick. She suddenly realized Percy had been on his own for several days, and although she knew he would never forgive her she scribbled a note to George and attached it to her owl's leg.

XXXXX

George was wiping a smudged fingerprint off of the showcase in Weaselys' Wizard Wheezes with his thumb. An owl flew in the window and landed right where he had wiped. He muttered a swear word, as he pulled the note from the bird's leg.

George, I'm sorry to keep this so short. I left Percy and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind checking up on him.

With love, Shannon

George alerted one of his staff that he was leaving. He then pulled out his wand and Apparated to Percy's doorstep, ignoring the fact that Percy lived in a Muggle neighbourhood. He knocked several times and after being met with silence, he charmed the lock and broke in.

The house smelled like alcohol mixed with vomit. He knew instantly something was very wrong and ran up the stairs to find Percy lying face down on his bed unconscious. George felt for a pulse and after finding it was weak, he pulled out his wand again and Apparated to St. Mungo's.

Healers took him in immediately. Ginny saw George in the lobby and went to him. "Is Frederick all right?" she asked with concern, assuming George had brought in his son.

George filled his little sister in on what was happening. She told him to alert the family and she would find out his progress.

Within 20 minutes the waiting room was filled with almost every member of the Weasley family. George retold the story to his very concerned family members.

"I can't believe she left him," Hermione sighed.

"Does it really surprise you?" Ron asked his wife.

"RONALD," Molly scolded. "Your brother just attempted suicide."

Ron looked at his mother sheepishly. "Sorry Mum," he muttered, as he dropped his gaze to the floor and squeezed Hermione's hand.

Ginny returned moments later. "Well?" Molly demanded of her daughter.

"He had his stomach pumped and a psychiatrist is on call for when he wakes up."

"A psychiatrist?"

"It is protocol for an attempted suicide," Ginny explained.

"When can we see him?" Molly asked.

"After the psychiatrist," Ginny said.

"Should we contact her?" Bill asked.

"She left him," Ron answered.

"It doesn't mean she doesn't still love him," Hermione said.

"Hermione is right," Ginny agreed. "She did contact George."

"I will Floo her," George said.

Molly began pacing while the rest of the family began talking. Ginny put her arm around her mother's shoulders. "He will make a full recovery," she offered.

"Physically," Molly sighed.

George returned. "When she comes, no one mention their situation."

"We're not stupid mate," Bill retorted.

"Yeah, Fleur isn't here," Ginny whispered to Hermione. Hermione bit back a laugh.

After several moments of awkward silence, Alicia and Hermione wanted to feel useful so they opted to clean Percy's house. They arrived on the front step and pushed open the door. The scent of alcohol and vomit overpowered them as it permeated through the dense air. Hermione waved her wand and every window in the house flew open. "Hermione the neighbours might see," Alicia exclaimed.

"I thought not passing out was a good idea," she muttered. She looked over at Alicia, who looked very pale and was clutching her abdomen. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Alicia responded with a gentle smile; though her hand holding her stomach was not giving the image of someone who was fine. "The smell was just getting to me."

Alicia waved her wand and the dishes started doing themselves. Together the women went room to room allowing magic to clean up the mess. Hermione froze when they reached the master bedroom. She could see pills scattered on the bed and a picture album lay next to them. "Is that their wedding album?" Alicia asked sadly. Hermione nodded her response.

"He is so broken," Hermione said suddenly, as she frowned.

"Maybe this is his rock bottom," Alicia offered hopefully.

Hermione waved her wand and the pills all flew into the loo to be flushed. "Wingardium Leviosa," Hermione said as the album lifted from the bed and flew over to the bay window. Alicia repeated the spell and the sheets rolled into a ball and then levitated down to the laundry room.

After starting the washing machine she returned upstairs to find a very sullen Hermione. She followed Hermione's gaze to the night table where next to a picture of Shannon lay her wedding ring and a note.

"There is a note?" Alicia questioned no one in particular. "Should we read it?"

Hermione shrugged. "Is it really our place?" Hermione asked.

"If we understand him, maybe we can help him better. This holds the key to why."

"We know why?"

"Marriages end everyday. Lives don't end with them. There is more than the demise of his marriage that is responsible for him giving up his life."

"Fred's death, his guilt and now the loss of his wife," Hermione offered.

Alicia chose to look at the note anyway. She unfolded the parchment and stared at the gentle scribble. "I'm sorry. I failed you all. Percy."

XXXXX

Shannon arrived at St. Mungo's looking very sullen. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a messy bun and concealer had been splashed onto the dark circles beneath her icy blue eyes. Her hands trembled as she touched George's shoulder. He turned to her and the anguish in her eyes would forever be imprinted in his mind. "Is he all right?" she whispered.

Molly turned toward the sound of the voice. "Shannon dear," she said gently. "He is going to come through this."

"Oh Molly, I am so sorry," the young witch cried.

"Nonsense. It isn't your fault and you mustn't blame yourself."

"But…"

"There are no buts dear. I know you love my son but I also know he is too deeply wounded to love you back the way you need him to. Your marriage was built on a foundation of grief. Percy was not ready to love and for that your marriage could not survive. I'm just sorry I didn't guide him properly in life."

"You are definitely not to blame," Bill said. "Percy has some issues which need to be addressed by the psychiatrist. It isn't anyone's fault."

Molly sighed and turned to look out the window. "I'm his mother. I should have tried harder."

"Percy made his choices," Arthur announced, speaking for the first time since his arrival at St. Mungos. "He must live with them. We raised all of our children the same. Percy chose the path his life has taken and we are not responsible."

XXXXX

Percy awoke with another headache. He felt around for his bottle of scotch and instead felt bars on the side of his bed. He opened his eyes and yelped in pain as the bright light from the sterile white room entered his pupils. "Where am I?" he said aloud.

"Evening," a man in a white lab coat said as he marked something onto his clipboard.

"Am I dead?" he moaned.

"No such luck," the man said cheerfully. He waved his wand and Percy watched a Patronus float out of the room. "I'm Healer Kretchin and you are at St. Mungos."

"Am I dying?"

"No we gave you some potion which expelled everything in your stomach so you'll make a full recovery…"

"But?" Percy said for him.

"You have to speak to our resident psychiatrist. We are concerned about your mental state."

Percy groaned. "It was an accident," he lied.

"Oh yeah?" the healer muttered with amusement.

"I'm sure you hear that all of the time, but I am telling the truth."

"Oh no, I've never heard that one before," the healer said sarcastically.

Percy looked to the door as another man entered. His hair was dark brown but Percy could see specks of grey appearing at the roots. His brown eyes were dark and inviting and his gentle smile made Percy feel very safe in his care. "Percy Weasley, I am Healer Sullivan the resident psychiatrist."

"I really don't need to speak with you. It was an accident. This is getting blown out of proportion."

"Is it really? You were found lying unconscious in your bed next to a bottle of pills."

"I couldn't sleep."

"How much alcohol have you consumed in the last few days?"

"Why?"

"Your level of alcohol in your blood was very high."

"I had a few drinks."

"Mr. Weasley would you like to tell me why you were drinking so heavily on your own?"

"I needed sleep."

"So you went for a permanent nap?"

Percy glared at the man. "You don't understand."

"What don't I understand?"

"Never mind," Percy muttered, as he turned his attention to the window.

"You can open up to me. I'm not going to judge you."

"I don't care whether or not you judge me," he spat.

"I think you do. I am here to help you. You are dealing with things beyond your psychological capability. I can help you sort everything out."

"I don't need help from anyone."

"What is wrong with getting help?"

"I am not weak."

"Who said you were?"

"My brother's," Percy suddenly cracked. His eyes held a faraway look as he remembered his childhood.

"What did they do to you?"

"Excluded me," he said sadly. "They always excluded me because I was so weak. They called me Prissy instead of Percy."

"I bet that hurt."

"Of course it did. I never fit in with them. I've never fit in with anyone."

"How did you handle that?"

"I strived for perfection. I felt that if I was more successful than them that I would have had the last laugh."

"Did you?"

"No. It led to me rejecting my family. By the time I returned it was too late. We were in the middle of a war."

"Why was it too late?"

"I couldn't save Fred."

"Who was Fred?"

"My brother."

"What happened to him?"

"He died."

"How is that your fault?"

"I distracted him."

"You were in the middle of a war. Distracted, or not, he was a target."

"I never got the chance to tell him how I felt."

"What did you want to tell him?"

"That I was sorry."

"For what?"

"For resenting him."

"Why did you resent him?"

"His success. I wanted to be the only successful one. My success was supposed to shame them so that they would feel bad for the way they treated me. They had found their own success and I was never going to get my revenge. I was driven by this revenge. I wanted Mum to realize that I was the only son to be proud of."

"Were you punishing her also?"

"I never wanted Fred and George to be born. Before they were born she had time for me."

"How did you feel when they were born?"

"Neglected. Alone. Unloved."

"So you thought by being successful that you could get that attention back?"

"It's what I had hoped for. When that wasn't working I gave up and left my family behind."

"What were you hoping to achieve?"

"I wanted my mother to feel as rejected as I did."

"Do you think it worked?"

"I hurt her deeply, but I don't feel good about it. I planned to make up for it when I returned. Instead I ended up the outcast that distracted Fred and got him killed."

"Do they actually blame you?"

"George did for awhile."

"Until?"

"His wife helped him forgive me."

"If he forgave you why can't you forgive yourself?"

"I do not deserve forgiveness."

"Says who?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"How can I forgive myself for everything that I have done wrong?"

"You're not the first person to make mistakes in life and you certainly won't be the last."

"Yes, but…"

"What does punishing yourself accomplish?"

"It's just what I deserve."

"People have been forgiven for much worse than the few mistakes you made. You are not responsible for your brother's death. He chose to fight in the war and he knew the risks. You are only responsible for your own choices. Your family has offered you forgiveness but you cannot accept it and I still do not know why. Everyone deserves forgiveness and to have a second chance. Don't you think that it is time to take advantage of yours?"

"It's not that simple."

"What else is making it so complex? How many years ago did your brother pass away?"

"Six years," Percy answered with frustration laced in his strained voice.

"You have punished yourself for six years? Don't you think it is time to move on and live your life?"

"I have nothing to live for."

"Why is that?"

"My wife just left me," Percy confessed.

"How did her rejection make you feel?"

"The same as I did several years ago when I had felt neglected by my mother."

"How did you handle it?"

Percy thought very hard for a moment on exactly how he should answer that question. He drew in a heavy breath before speaking. "I didn't."

"So how would you like to handle it?"

"I'm not sure."

Percy looked back at the psychiatrist with a frown. "Can I please have a few moments alone?"

"Of course. I'll return later, but please think about what I said."

"I will," Percy promised, before closing his eyes and taking in everything he had just said.