Chapter 23: Mortimer's Mansion

Credence and Percy

No one brought the word 'matron' to life quite like the daunting figure in front of Credence as he staggered to his feet. She looked him up and down silently for a few seconds, appraising the child who had permanently scarred her youngest son. Mrs. Boyd looked nothing like what Credence pictured as a mother. At least, she was nothing like his old Ma; short and plain. Mrs. Boyd was tall and thin, incased in the suit of a business woman. Her dark features were perfectly framed with straightened black hair that went down past her elbows.

Mrs. Boyd took a few steps forward as she examined him. Credence had to fight to stand still and not to shrink away. He didn't want to insult Percy's mother on first seeing her, even if her intimidation levels were rivaling Professor Blygull's. Mrs. Boyd reached out and brushed her manicured nails across the ends of his dark locks; "You'll need a haircut while you're here." There was none of the New York accent in her voice that the rest of her children had. Credence's hair had indeed gotten a little out of hand since Ravina had finally broken down and cut it over the winter break. As long as it wasn't the bowl cut that Mary Lou used to give him, he had never taken much notice. Now though, he was starting to feel like a dirty chimney urchin who has accidentally tumbled into the wrong house.

It must have showed, because Mrs. Boyd's expression softened into something a little more maternal. She added, "You'll make yourself at home, I hope."

Credence's small suitcase came skidding out of the fireplace so fast the he had to jump out of the way before it upended him. Sam was moments behind, landing much more gracefully than Credence had.

"Hi Ma," he said, "Petra's comin' soon. She's worried 'bout the No-Maj baker at the place we came from."

Mrs. Boyd shook her head – still not setting a hair out of place – "I don't know why you have to use a No-Maj shop. They're so uncivil."

"It's the only place near the train station with a fireplace," Sam said, "but I swear, as soon as I can apparate –"

"Percy, why don't you show your guest around?" Mrs. Boyd said over her son, "And take off your shoes before you leave the carpet. In fact, the three of you might just want to change your clothes. I never understood Floo powder."

Mortimer's Mansion was an appropriate name for the extensive and immaculate abode that only held two people most of the year. Certain areas did show the boy's chaotic handiwork of the past three weeks of summer; especially Percy's room. Even he, though, couldn't disguise the grandeur of the house. The wallpaper was a swirling design, and if Credence didn't look directly at it, he felt like it was moving in the corner of his eye. The many portraits certainly were. Percy greeted each of them by name as he passed them: "Hi George. Hi Theodora. Cats treatin' you alright Marsha? How's the soup King Henry?"

But his casual manner didn't distract Credence from the other large piece of information that Percy had forgotten to mention in their year of friendship at Ilvermorny.

"How did you get all this? I mean, I didn't know you were rich." Credence asked, later, after they had walked around every important piece of the giant house.

Percy looked a little sheepish. "It wasn't always like this. It was kinda an accident. My pa was always makin' stuff. You shoulda known him. I remember when I was younger he would always be inventin' things. Have you ever seen those trick wands that look real but they're actually rubber? He made those and sold a few and then they started a business and suddenly he was rollin' in dough. None of us expected it. Or, I mean, I wasn't born yet, but Petra and Sarah - you know, my married sister - they told me about it. They remember bein' poor.

"Anyhoo, after he died, Ma took over the business. She don't invent stuff like Pa did, but she's good at marketing and politics and all the boring bits. She just gets the stuff he made when he was alive into people's hands now." He looked sideways at the Obscurial, "I know I shoulda told you all this stuff. Your life is just so different."

"It's fine," Credence said, even though he was troubled. He could understand keeping secrets.

A/N: I have already talked about how the similarities between Percy Boyd and Rob Weasley are completely unintentional as I hadn't even read Harry Potter when I made this story up. However, after I started reading it, I decided to do some things to try and separate the two characters. Making Percy's family rich was one of those things. Please review!