A/N: I don't own Harry Potter.
Penelope is dead.
She was overcome with fear, fear of an evil that she had not known.
I remember her last letters, pouring out her worries to me on parchment. The ink smeared, the paragraphs jumbled.
My dearest Penny.
If I had been more alert to your tears, would you have chosen a different path?
If I had calmed your fears, would you have stayed to cure my loneliness?
***
Percy watched as the candle flickered lightly, melting down to barely a stub. He didn't bother to replace it, as he hadn't gone out in days. Owls from the Ministry, probably questioning his disappearance from work, lay unopened by the window.
Percy, himself, lay in bed, listening to his stomach growl for food loudly, as he contemplated whether or not it was possible for him to smother himself with his own pillow.
As the candle finally finally burned out, his thoughts turned to his family, or what he hoped was still his family. His brothers had always made it out that they would be happier if he wasn't there. They were probably jumping with joy right now. He knew they had grown tired of his willingness to work, and then afterwards, being proud of what he had accomplished. If only they had understood that was the only way he knew how to be. And then if he did try and joke around, they would just say he was trying to see if they were doing anything wrong so he could turn him in.
They didn't want him to joke around with them.
They didn't want him to work hard and be proud of what he had done.
Percy felt the tears come, even after he thought, he had no more to cry.
What did they want from him? How did they want him to be?
Penelope is dead.
She was overcome with fear, fear of an evil that she had not known.
I remember her last letters, pouring out her worries to me on parchment. The ink smeared, the paragraphs jumbled.
My dearest Penny.
If I had been more alert to your tears, would you have chosen a different path?
If I had calmed your fears, would you have stayed to cure my loneliness?
***
Percy watched as the candle flickered lightly, melting down to barely a stub. He didn't bother to replace it, as he hadn't gone out in days. Owls from the Ministry, probably questioning his disappearance from work, lay unopened by the window.
Percy, himself, lay in bed, listening to his stomach growl for food loudly, as he contemplated whether or not it was possible for him to smother himself with his own pillow.
As the candle finally finally burned out, his thoughts turned to his family, or what he hoped was still his family. His brothers had always made it out that they would be happier if he wasn't there. They were probably jumping with joy right now. He knew they had grown tired of his willingness to work, and then afterwards, being proud of what he had accomplished. If only they had understood that was the only way he knew how to be. And then if he did try and joke around, they would just say he was trying to see if they were doing anything wrong so he could turn him in.
They didn't want him to joke around with them.
They didn't want him to work hard and be proud of what he had done.
Percy felt the tears come, even after he thought, he had no more to cry.
What did they want from him? How did they want him to be?