okay, i wanted to upload this and the next chapter on the same day, but that chapter is still in the works (not fully written, not edited at all) and this is already done and edited...so...i'm just going to post this one i think.

What Were You Doing Out There in the Dark?

Chapter One

Admission

During the wait in St Mungo's A&E, Arthur paced around from one end of the bed to the shimmery grey curtains, waiting for a healer to come in. He had forgotten how he'd apparated to the hospital, how Percy's shoulder felt underneath his clammy hand, and how the triage room looked like. He could vaguely recall the scrub-clad nurse checking Percy's blood pressure with an audible pfft-pfft-pfft cuff as she kept asking him what had happened.

Assault, he'd seen one of the other nurses write although Percy had barely said a few words. They gave Arthur a look that made him feel like he belonged in Azkaban That was when he realised that they thought he'd throttled his own child. And the thought of someone physically placing his hands around Percy's neck sent him in such a boiling rage.

He strangled his own child, and then what? Brought him here to the hospital to have him get checked out? What a story!

The hospital smelled like betadine and plastic. The lime green blankets looked like they'd been carelessly cleaned with a charm and then stuffed back onto the beds haphazardly. The small chair by the headstand was ricketier than the rocking chair that Aunt Muriel sat on every holiday. The whole cubicle was so small that Arthur could barely stand up without his head getting whacked over the roof. And it was scorching inside. Arthur found himself perspiring in his black turtleneck and his corduroy jacket within seconds. He'd taken off his jacket and thrown it onto the dirty-looking chair just to take a breathbreathbreath because what in Merlin's name was happening and how did he end up in this vile situation?

What was happening to Percy that he'd practically had this blood-curdling mental breakdown just a couple of hours shy from what was supposed to be a normal working day?

"Percy." During this whole time, Arthur hadn't forgotten why he was there. "Are…are you alright?"

"Yes, dad," Percy's voice was so small. He barely sounded like himself.

"What's happened?"

The whirs of monitors, the sounds of ruffling blankets, the echoes of nurses outside talking in their native languages…

"Percy." No response from him. None whatsoever. "Percy, you have to tell me what's going on."

His son had stopped shivering after he'd been placed on the bed, and he seemed less hysterical after a few minutes.

"Percival," Arthur echoed out. He tried to sound as nice as possible but really, it just came out as accusatory.

Even with him breathing normally, he was as pale and damp as Molly was after she'd given birth. His face was whiter than the walls and the sheets underneath him. He looked like he'd just seen his grandfather's ghost.

Percy clung to his sheets. "I don't know," his voice cracked. "I don't know what happened. I don't know."

"You're the one that wanted me to help you," the statement came afterwards, which Arthur assumed was even worse. Percy shuddered. You're gaslighting him for Merlin's sake, Arthur knew he was. He was manipulating Percy's own words against him when he was at his most vulnerable, but he couldn't help himself. He had to know what was going on. He had to know how they ended up there in the hospital. "How could I if I don't know what's happened? Hmm?"

"I don't know," he looked like he might come apart if Arthur asked him anything else. "I don't know."

"You don't know as in you don't remember or you don't know how to tell me what's happened then?"

Hot tears sprung into Percy's eyes again and he was back to crying and sniffling. "I don't know."

"Percy—"

"Please stop asking me questions. I don't know." And Percy was back to those heart-wrenching sobs.

"Alright. Alright." Arthur truly felt like an absolute arsehole. "I'm sorry," he added on.

What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do?

"Listen, Percy, I don't know what's happened, but I just want you to know that I'll be there for you no matter what happens. You can tell me anything. You don't have to keep this to yourself. I—"

"Percy Weasley?" a healer had opened one of the curtains. He was young with the blondest hair that Arthur had ever seen. He had the kind of doe eyes that could put him on the cover of Witch Weekly magazine. He walked in with his lime-green robes looking particularly luminous in the all-white cubicle. He flashed his teeth, which were just as florescent and white.

Percy was sat up on the bed and the healer approached him quite carefully. As if he were worried that Percy was going to explode in a bunch of red fireworks. To be honest, Arthur was thinking the same thing too.

"What's happened today? What's brought you to the hospital?"

Percy gave no response. The healer was stood rather awkwardly and looked up at Arthur instead. "Do you know?"

Arthur stiffened. "Err—"

The healer looked a little concerned when he caught sight of the marks. "Oh—what's happened to your neck?"

"My neck?" Percy reached forward to touch his neck and it was like he just realised he had marks on his neck.

Percy's eyes widened as he realised how he must look like. Arthur let in a jagged inhale. He was sure that the image of Percy rapidly breathing with his pupils dilated and his hairline damp with his own sweat wasn't one that would leave his mind any time. Because no matter what had happened between them, this was his child. His very traumatised looking child. Probably figured out there was a war now, has he? a sardonic part of Arthur thought. And he felt ashamed that this was his first thought to his own child sitting there, wheezing and looking like he was about to cry.

"Did someone do that to you?"

Percy shifted onto the bed rather uncomfortably.

Then as if Percy wasn't there at all, the healer turned to Arthur. "You're the father I presume?"

"Hmm?" Arthur hadn't heard the last thing that he'd asked.

"Are you his father?" the healer spoke in a much louder tone.

"Oh, yes, yes, I am. I'm his father." Arthur stiffened before he introduced himself, "Arthur. My name is Arthur." As if it were important. He looked down at Percy, who looked just as withdrawn as he was when he'd first seen him.

"Alright." The healer also didn't care about that piece of information. "Well…um… do you know what's happened?"

"Not at all. Just found him like this outside of our workplace. We both—we both work at the Ministry," Arthur just shrugged as if it were a normal occurrence. Then he felt like he was hammered by guilt, because shouldn't he be more distraught about what happened? He found his son sat outside of his office, having a mental breakdown. And he was absolutely distraught, but he was so emotionally detached from everything. How could he dissolve into tears when his son needed him? "Err—this is the first time it's happened," he wanted to clarify. "I don't particularly know—well, I just saw the…marks on his neck and I've thought maybe that it's best to come to the hospital." He realised how much he was trembling and fumbling with his pockets until he noticed the healer looking down at his hands. "But I don't know how it's happened or what's happened—just that it looks a bit serious. I'm not sure, to be honest…"

The healer tossed a look at Percy. He didn't look too happy about it. "It does look a bit serious." Then he smiled at Arthur as if to diffuse the gravity of the situation. "Been in a bit of a scuffle, haven't you?" he asked Percy. But when he got no answer, he cleared his throat and shuffled awkwardly into his place. "Can you please wait outside, sir?"

"But…this is my son." Arthur wasn't comfortable leaving Percy alone. "He's just been through something terrible and I—"

"I know," he didn't sound so pleased with him being there. "And I'd like to talk to him alone. If that's possible?"

"Of course," Arthur didn't know how to feel, thinking that Percy would probably talk to this man if he were outside. "Take your time." He looked over at Percy and squeezed his hand. "I'll be right outside, alright?"

"Okay," Percy didn't look at him at all when Arthur was trying to reassure him.

Arthur left the cubicle and was directed outside to the waiting room by one of the nurses.

He could barely look at the chairs in the waiting room, so he stood outside in the absolute ice, but the wind was so cold and his whole body felt numb within seconds. He was freezing without his corduroy jacket. His lips felt like they were getting blue, and he'd just noticed the time when he looked down. It had gotten so late, and he hadn't even noticed. After he'd calmed down, he'd walked back into the waiting area, towards the reception and asked a bubbly-looking woman if he could use their owl service to let their wife know that he'd gotten busy with something, and he wouldn't be coming home until much later. But even after he'd written the owl and sent it off, he'd realised that barely any time had passed. It seemed as if it had frozen the second that the healer had asked him to leave the room, where Percy was probably telling him all kinds of awful things about him. About what happened to him, about what happened to his family.

The words that they'd said to each other kept repeating into his mind.

You're a fool for believing in Dumbledore. Harry is just a child. He doesn't know what he's talking about. And if you've tried hard enough, then maybe we won't be looking for scraps and having to borrow each other's clothes and…

As Arthur was getting riled up, one of the nurses asked for him again. He'd been escorted back to Percy's bed, where he was wrapped up in this drab blanket. He was clinging onto it so tightly that he practically disappeared underneath it. Arthur looked back at the clock. 11:35. 11:36. 11:37 flashed before him in what just felt like seconds. Three minutes had passed, and it was just silence between him, and the healer that was looking at the beeps and sounds of the monitors.

"Is…is everything alright?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, yes," the healer answered as if he suddenly remembered that he was there. It was then that Arthur had noticed that the gash on Percy's cheek had been magically sutured. Steri-strips had been placed on it. "We'll just be doing a quick wand scan, make sure that Percy's got any fractures or anything in his skull and we'll also have to make sure his throat is alright." He'd gestured towards the cup of water, which Percy hadn't drunk anything from. "Just have him have a drink."

"Oh," Arthur wasn't sure if it were great. What was he supposed to do now? It was obvious that Percy didn't want to tell him.

At least he'd told the healer. At least he could be treated now. But it still sounded rather ghastly. There had obviously been something in the story that made him think Percy might have fractured his skull if they wanted to do a scan to see if he did, weren't there? And someone had strangled him. Arthur didn't need a special wand to be able to see that.

After the healer left, it was just him and Percy and this wall of tension between them.

"Is that alright?" Arthur gestured towards the cup of water into Percy's hands. "Would you like something else?"

"No… this is alright." Percy didn't meet his eyes. "Thank you."

Arthur nodded his head and waited for Percy to actually drink that, but he just kept staring at it.

"I can get you some butterbeer." Arthur had noticed some being sold outside of the hospital, and they looked like they still got customers at this time. The woman that was behind that cart was reading Witch Weekly and looked rather content with how the night was going. "Or a hot chocolate if you'd like. But it is rather hot in here, isn't it?"

Percy was back to trembling and looking like he was about to burst into tears again.

"Hey, it's alright," Arthur had placed a hand on Percy's arm. "It's okay."

He'd brought Percy close to him and hugged him as tightly as he could as he watched him start to sob again. When he'd quieted down after a while, he'd seem to realise how late it was and he looked a little pale.

"Dad, the time…it's…" Percy shook his head. "Can you…my flatmate—Roger, he'd be…"

"Your flatmate?" Arthur echoed incredulously. "Who's Roger? He'd be worried, is that what you're trying to say?"

Percy bit down his lower lip. "It's not important."

They took him to the procedure room to do a few quick wand scans afterwards. Arthur had no idea how he was going to sleep that night at home when he had grotesque images of marks around his son's neck. After Percy had been transported by the bed to the procedure room, one of the nurses told him that they had to get Aurors involved. He supposed that he did.

Someone had to have strangled his son. There was no way that those marks showed up out of thin air.

His fingers were numb from being stood outside in the cold. He had no idea what had just happened to his third son. He had no idea how he was going to convince him to come home for the night, or if he was really alright being by himself for the scans. And Arthur felt like he'd been punched in the face when Percy had come back, and the healer had told him that Percy was going to be admitted 'for observation' because he had a skull fracture. It was at this time that Arthur felt like he might just lose it because he didn't think that the healer would ever say something like that to him. He was so stunned that he became a little breathless, wondering what was going to happen to Percy. It didn't sound like it was a benign thing—just a little crack on his skull! It sounded like something that could hurt him. That could even kill him. Arthur kept frantically asking questions to any healer that would come.

"Is Percy going to be alright?"

"Do you think I can go get his clothes from his flat, or do-do you think that something is going to happen?"

"Can he eat? Should I get him something to eat?"

"Do you think I can go to his flat now?"

"Could something happen to him?"

"Can you watch over him when I write a letter to his mum?"

"Should I be waking him up if he tries to sleep? Is that what you do with head injuries, do you know?"

He wasn't getting very reassuring responses either. They couldn't predict what was going to happen to Percy, but they did tell him that he could eat and drink normally. He was too terrified to leave him alone, scared that the second he'd leave, Percy would start to be drowsy and unresponsive, or something would just happen to him, so he just stayed there in the hospital. At around two in the morning, after they'd safely shifted Percy to the ward and he'd managed to cry himself to sleep, Arthur had gone to the owl service in the wards and written a long letter to Molly, explaining that he was in the hospital with Percy, that something had happened, and that Percy was under observation and that he didn't want to leave him alone so that was why he hadn't bothered to come home. He explained which ward they were in (31), the room (1, bed F) and that they were in an observation bed along with other patients.

He hoped that she was sleeping. But at the same time, he hoped that she wasn't. So, she could come here, relieve him of his duty, so that he could get some shut-eye himself.

When Percy started to shiver even with a double blanket, Arthur pulled down his corduroy jacket over him and wrapped him around in it. They had his clothes taken off by then, which Arthur had noticed was blood-stained, and had him lie in this paper-thin gown. Aurors had come to see and talk to Percy (alone, Arthur would like to add). He'd been in the hallway of the ward, waiting for them to finish. He could hear Percy's distant sounds becoming wobbly and incoherent with the tears. He'd gone back to being in such a state again just talking about whatever had happened. Arthur almost felt bad for wanting Percy to tell him, if telling him was going to make him dissolve into a state like that again.

Kingsley was appointed lead Auror investigator, and Arthur was almost relaxed when he'd seen him walking out of the room in ruffled blues and a somewhat glassy look to his eyes.

"Arthur." He didn't say his name like they were two mates having a catch-up. He rubbed his eyes. "I'm going to have a coffee downstairs…why don't you come with?" The way that he said that sent almost a shiver down Arthur's spine because whatever he wanted to talk about was pretty serious. "I'd like to talk to you."

Arthur glanced at Percy on his bed. He'd managed to fall back asleep in seconds, probably from the sheer exhaustion.

"Oh…" Arthur stiffened a little. "Okay." He then turned to one of the nurses behind the nursing station, who held a rather irritated expression. "I know I've been a proper pain in your arse since I've been in. I'm going to go with the Aurors now to discuss some things regarding my son. But if—"

"If anything happens to him, we'll let you know," he cut Arthur off before he could say anything.

"Oh." Arthur supposed he may have annoyed the hell out of them, asking all these questions. Coming in and out all the time, asking them if his heart rate was alright, if he was going to be alright, when he could see the healer that was looking after him and all those sorts of questions. "Well, um…thank you." He turned to Kingsley and nodded his head at him.

"You can go now, Mr Weasley."

"Yes, I know." Could he? Arthur glanced back at the monitor beds. Percy's shock of red hair peeked from underneath the blankets. "Thank you." Then he reluctantly moved away from the station, away from where he could see Percy.

A part of him felt very empty leaving the ward, and it wasn't because he didn't have his jacket on.

The little coffee shop in the hospital was small, with little red leathery barstool seats. Kingsley had gotten them both coffee without asking for Arthur's preferences, not that he had any at the time. Arthur listened to the sounds of the coffee makers magically brewing and churning out cops of coffee, which magically appeared before them seconds after the order had been made. The waft of frothy sweet coffee made its way to Arthur's tired, distraught nose. His limbs felt so heavy. He could feel the warmth of the cup, the cold settling into his body. He listened to Kingsley slurp his coffee, almost like he didn't care if it scalded his tongue. Glowing neon signs burned holes into Arthur's head. A couple of days ago, all he cared about was whether or not Ron, Harry and Hermione would be caught in a compromising position again before the holidays. Now, all he could think about was whether or not a child that he'd fought with was going to die in his sleep.

"He told me that I can talk to you." Kingsley finally said. "I suppose you don't know what's going on."

"Not a clue."

Arthur held his breath in. Took a sip of coffee. Warm. Sweet. It calmed him down a little. "Did he tell you?" Arthur asked.

"Most of it," Kingsley answered. Arthur could hear the way that his tone had changed. It didn't sound good. It sounded like Kingsley didn't like what he'd heard himself; like he didn't want to explain what happened. And if Kingsley didn't want to tell him what happened, then he supposed he could understand why Percy didn't want to, especially not in his condition. "But he asked for a lot of details to be omitted out when I'm talking to you."

"Oh." Arthur didn't know how to feel about that. "Important details?"

"Gravely." Kingsley looked a little conflicted himself, and he sounded just as torn.

"But why would he—"

"It's a sensitive matter." When Kingsley had said that, Arthur felt like throttling him. Well, he knew that, didn't he? He knew that it was a sensitive matter. This was his son for Merlin's sake!

"He was…um… assaulted?" Arthur prompted. "Strangled. There was an altercation."

"Yes."

"Did you tell you with who?"

"Yes. He did. In fact, there's evidence proving and collaborating his story—not that we wouldn't have believed it if he didn't. But I just want to mention that it's there. That we have pictures. We have blood evidence." Kingsley filled the silence by taking a few sips of his coffee. "But the who and the why and...and the general background is where it gets complicated."

"Complicated?" Arthur didn't understand why it had to be complicated.

"The why your son doesn't want you to know. And the why ties in... with a lot of other things."

"That's okay." Arthur was starting to sound desperate. "I just want to know who could've…"

"The Minister."

Arthur felt like he'd been slapped in the face. The thought of Fudge's greedy hands over his son's throat made his blood boil. He didn't care what the circumstance was. "The Minister of Magic?"

"Yes."

"Fudge." Arthur echoed; his voice filled with anger.

"Yes…well, you see where it gets difficult to take the Minister of Magic to trial. This case file notes can be lost. There's a lot of interdepartmental corruption," Kingsley mentioned. Arthur didn't know why in Merlin's name Fudge would have beaten Percy like this. And didn't Fudge have anyone that would beat his son up for him? "And I don't think your son wants to press charges. If it goes to court, he has to go on the record and say what happened and I don't think…"

"Fudge." Arthur reiterated again. "Cornelius Fudge put his hands around my son?"

"Oh, Arthur—"

"Why the hell would that monster touch my son?" Arthur seethed.

"Arthur, I—"

"He strangled my fucking child."

He couldn't imagine any argument escalating enough that the Minister would start throttling his assistant!

"And you know why." Arthur noticed Kingsley's face change.

"I can't tell you, Arthur," Kingsley looked apologetic about it too. He sounded like he really did want to tell him, but at the same time, he looked like he was glad that he didn't have to. "And maybe it's better if you don't know."

"How is it best if I don't know?"

"It's a sensitive situation."

"I'm his father."

"Percy's of age now, Arthur," Kingsley reminded him. "And unless he tells you, I can't."

Arthur didn't agree with that, but what could he say? How could he approach Percy and flat out ask him himself?

"And maybe you should respect it when he tells you that he doesn't want you to know," Kingsley said.

Arthur didn't agree with any of that, but that felt like the end of the conversation. But just as he was returning to the ward, he noticed his wife stood outside, waiting to be let inside.