Authors Note: I don't own Percy, and I'm just leasing the rest,
Seriously, JKR owns everything you recognize. This is my first Percy fic,
be kind or at least constructive. Unbetaed.
Two trunks, shrunk down of course. But still, my entire life to this point fits into two trunks. Don't get me wrong, slightly less than a year ago my entire world consisted of a single tent, the arena, 20 twenty work hardened men, the masters, and my herbs. Two trunks are vastly accumulative. I was never what you would call a pack rat.
I once lived my life sparingly. At first, because I was a poor boy born into a large family, there was nothing to accumulate. By the time the toys came to me my two elder brothers had demolished whatever usefulness or value they had possessed. Books and clothing would remain in my hands only so long, to be passed down to the four born after me. I didn't resent it the way Ronald did; I learned very quickly that knowledge and praise were the only acquisitions that would stay solely in my possession. For years I lived that exact belief. However, past praise means little in the face of present accusations and disappointment. Knowledge can become mere opinion, at worst falsehood if scrutinized.
So now I know better, or at least I can admit to my past mistakes and apologize for my no doubt impending future mistakes. I would like to believe the mistakes I made were honest; made in arrogance. I was a fool! I fooled myself into believing that holding onto nothing meant nothing was holding me back. That in gaining praise, knowledge, and authority I was finding myself. Truly a fool.
I didn't find my self in the hogswart library. I didn't find myself in the ministry of magic. I certainly didn't find myself when I left the family. Hell, I didn't even find myself while spying for Dumbledor. Cliché-ly enough I found myself while I was lost.
Lost in a forest, in Merlin only knows what country. Wandering with those 20 men that I later became so close to. Hungry and bruised, both in body and pride, I admitted to needing others. Their help and their kinship. I wasn't the only one to learn this lesson during those horrible weeks spent lost. Each of us was sent to learn what we needed to know most. I needed to realize who I was and what my limitations were.
I ran away after the war. With only my rucksack, full of my ministry earnings and a change of cloths, I ran away. To get lost in a forest, and find myself. It was probable the smartest thing I had done to that date.
I realized, after reconciling with my family, that I had become a recluse while working for the ministry and Dumbledor. That no one really knew me. That they were basing their reactions and relationships to me on my past actions; whether good or bad. How could I have expected more. How could I expect them to know what I did not, being- anything about myself. So I left.
"Hey mister, for a few knuts I'll help ya load those yeah?" Startled out of thought, I turned to see a gangly young man, not to shabbily dressed but, looking a little down on his luck. Grinning I decided why not, I never did spend that rucksack of galleons. "Sure."
Each of us lugged a trunk onto the loading platform and then into the baggage compartment. "That be everything then mister?" asked the youth, looking like he hoped it was. "Yes, thanks," I reply handing over a galleon and departing to my compartment. Thinking to my self, "everything I own, yes; everything I am, no." Feeling another grin coming to my lips, I plan on sleeping the entire trip to my parent's home. Twenty-six years old, a medi-wizard of sorts but with out title; and that is how I prefer it now. I am going home, this time for good.
Dum dum dum... to be continued? Tell me what you think.
Two trunks, shrunk down of course. But still, my entire life to this point fits into two trunks. Don't get me wrong, slightly less than a year ago my entire world consisted of a single tent, the arena, 20 twenty work hardened men, the masters, and my herbs. Two trunks are vastly accumulative. I was never what you would call a pack rat.
I once lived my life sparingly. At first, because I was a poor boy born into a large family, there was nothing to accumulate. By the time the toys came to me my two elder brothers had demolished whatever usefulness or value they had possessed. Books and clothing would remain in my hands only so long, to be passed down to the four born after me. I didn't resent it the way Ronald did; I learned very quickly that knowledge and praise were the only acquisitions that would stay solely in my possession. For years I lived that exact belief. However, past praise means little in the face of present accusations and disappointment. Knowledge can become mere opinion, at worst falsehood if scrutinized.
So now I know better, or at least I can admit to my past mistakes and apologize for my no doubt impending future mistakes. I would like to believe the mistakes I made were honest; made in arrogance. I was a fool! I fooled myself into believing that holding onto nothing meant nothing was holding me back. That in gaining praise, knowledge, and authority I was finding myself. Truly a fool.
I didn't find my self in the hogswart library. I didn't find myself in the ministry of magic. I certainly didn't find myself when I left the family. Hell, I didn't even find myself while spying for Dumbledor. Cliché-ly enough I found myself while I was lost.
Lost in a forest, in Merlin only knows what country. Wandering with those 20 men that I later became so close to. Hungry and bruised, both in body and pride, I admitted to needing others. Their help and their kinship. I wasn't the only one to learn this lesson during those horrible weeks spent lost. Each of us was sent to learn what we needed to know most. I needed to realize who I was and what my limitations were.
I ran away after the war. With only my rucksack, full of my ministry earnings and a change of cloths, I ran away. To get lost in a forest, and find myself. It was probable the smartest thing I had done to that date.
I realized, after reconciling with my family, that I had become a recluse while working for the ministry and Dumbledor. That no one really knew me. That they were basing their reactions and relationships to me on my past actions; whether good or bad. How could I have expected more. How could I expect them to know what I did not, being- anything about myself. So I left.
"Hey mister, for a few knuts I'll help ya load those yeah?" Startled out of thought, I turned to see a gangly young man, not to shabbily dressed but, looking a little down on his luck. Grinning I decided why not, I never did spend that rucksack of galleons. "Sure."
Each of us lugged a trunk onto the loading platform and then into the baggage compartment. "That be everything then mister?" asked the youth, looking like he hoped it was. "Yes, thanks," I reply handing over a galleon and departing to my compartment. Thinking to my self, "everything I own, yes; everything I am, no." Feeling another grin coming to my lips, I plan on sleeping the entire trip to my parent's home. Twenty-six years old, a medi-wizard of sorts but with out title; and that is how I prefer it now. I am going home, this time for good.
Dum dum dum... to be continued? Tell me what you think.