To Hush, Or Not to Hush
By: vez
It was an unspoken truth: the moment you begin to hear voices in your head, you were considered insane. Percy Weasley never heard voices in his head. In fact, he never heard words that were never meant to be spoken. Anyone who knew Percy realised that he was an extremely stable young man. The term crazy never was used to describe the straight laced Weasley.
It was true. Percy was not crazy. He was something else altogether.
If you were part of the Weasley clan, you would be accustomed to noise. It was fact and useless to get away from. Fred and George alone could and on many occasions had brought the house down with their pranks and 'experiments'. It was no wonder why Percy desperately treasured peace and quiet. Some might claim that quiet or the lack of sound denoted emptiness in one's life. To Percy, quiet was simply a lack of noise.
While Percy never heard voices in his head, he was constantly aware of them. Certain things whisper to him, especially when he was alone. These voices were neither taunting nor horrifying. They were friendly, benign even. The voices were unfortunately always there and they refused to go away.
On mornings when Oliver had Quidditch practice back in Hogwarts, Percy would have the whole room to himself. There were no interruptions and no noise. It was just Percy and blissful, sacred silence. He would spend those moments doing absolutely nothing -- just staring at the ceiling or out the window. No thoughts would go through his head. Even the voices were the quietest during those moments. Percy felt complete. Although it felt cliché, he felt one with the universe. The voices surrounding him seemed to agree. He never really knew where the voices came from and exactly whose voices it was. Although they spoke to him, Percy never replied. It was strictly a one-way conversation. All Percy did was to listen to them.
He didn't hear the voices all his life. In fact, it was only during the dark times, the War with Voldemort, that the voices started to whisper to him. Percy always considered the voices his friends. It was so very lonely during the war. His two older brothers were in school and his father was in the Ministry. The rest of his siblings were too young to do anything. The only other person who was old enough to talk to and entertain four year old Percy was his mother. But Mother always seemed so exhausted and worried. No matter how many times she held Percy and told him not to be afraid, he knew she was lying. During those dark times, fear and silence dominated. There was no energy or room for the sound of laughter or play. That was why the only playmates Percy had were the voices. For the longest time, he thought the voices belonged to his fairy godmother or father who took pity of his loneliness. As he got to be older, it didn't seem to be important anymore.
The voices never left him alone after that. They were loyal to him. When he left for Hogwarts, they followed him there. Even when he graduated and had his own apartment, he could hear the same voices. However, over the years, the voices grew louder and louder. More voices were fighting to be heard. They were all clamouring for his attention.
It was all getting to be too loud! Where was the peace and quiet Percy craved?
The voices were starting to become noise and if there was one thing he absolutely hated, it was noise. What made things worse was that his apartment was situated in London. London never slept, be it the muggle or wizarding side. The noise was getting to him. It was even starting to show in his work. The mistakes he made were small and quickly corrected. Percy was lucky he spotted them before it was handed in to his superior. The thing was that Percy never made mistakes, not even the tiniest of errors.
It became glaringly obvious that Percy had a problem and he had to find a solution, fast. One way was to move to a quieter place, in the countryside or even back to the Burrow. After all, there was no one left in the house except for Mother and Father. But Percy never liked to deceive himself. The problem wasn't really the noise of London. The truth was Percy loved London. He admired the fact that the city was overflowing with life. When he lived there, the city gave him a sense of purpose. It was as if Percy was part of something important. The problem was the voices he heard. How was he going to convince them to away?
As soon as he thought about the voices leaving him, Percy felt a wave of sadness wash over him. He would be left alone again. Sure, he had family and friends. There was no more war, there was no need to go in hiding. Whenever he felt alone, he could always give someone a visit or invite someone for lunch or dinner. He didn't really need the voices anymore did he? Unfortunately, Percy was never very good with social situations. What if no one wanted to spend time with him when the voices left? Who would he turn to?
What was he going to do? He couldn't live with the voices but he wasn't sure if he wanted to live without the voices. What was life anyway? Percy remembered spending most of his time making sure his younger siblings were not in any trouble. Even when he left Hogwarts, he came back the next year as a judge for the tournament. It seems like all his life was spent worrying after his siblings. Come to think of it, he hadn't really lived his life, has he? All he did was to live for them, not himself.
Percy Weasley was a problem solver. There was no problem that was too difficult for this young man. He would find his own solution, sooner or later.
To be continued…..
Author's note: If you liked it, please review it! J This piece of work was inspired by The Hours, which I thought was an excellent movie although a little confusing. I haven't been writing Percy in a while and I fear I might be losing my touch. Anyway, real life beckons!