Chapt. 5
Three words.
Harry's POV:
Harry doesn't really know what is entitled when one is in a relationship with another. Though he speculates that telling where one is, if one does not show up at night is one of those entitlements.
So Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One sits in a small apartment kitchen seething in anger. Nursing a bottle of FireWhiskey he's stolen from one Percy's cupboards along with cigarettes and chocolate the young man waits slowly getting more and more angry…
It's almost past midnight and the raven haired youth is ready to break everything in sight. Even the gold and mahogany bookcase he bought for Percy as a belated birthday present… the more time is left to the FireWhiskey to do it's work and the chocolate to lap at his mouth unhappily the more that Harry is ready to just kill Percy Weasley, The Ministry Employee that Buggers The Chosen One every night. Or day. Or whenever they feel like it.
It's past two o'clock in the morning and there's a very big ache in Harry's head. His shoulders are slouching on their own accord and he feels like blubbering. Which is stupid, considering the fact that Harry doesn't want to make this just another one of his episodes as Percy is deemed to call them. Though mind Harry will probably end up in Azkaban if he smells anything on Percy that shouldn't be there. Or see anything that shouldn't be there. Or hear anything that shouldn't be there. Or touch, breathe even sense anything out of place.
It's when these thoughts creep up on Harry that he knows he's a jealous lover. And probably a dangerous one, that's why he sometimes tells Percy that he should be careful on what he gives to Harry to be mad over.
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When the morning comes and Harry's slouched over the kitchen table with a pigmy owl pecking at his head, he knows that he's dwelt too long on Percy.
Taking the owl's leg and removing the letter he recognizes Ron's untidy scrawl.
He sighs not ready for what this might entail.
Opening the letter and reading the message for him to go over to the Burrow has Harry in quiet contemplation. After all since it's quite obvious that Percy didn't come home last night then he might stumble in this morning…
Rejecting the thought of seeing a hung-over and probably just-been-laid-by-some-fucking-slut Percy, Harry leaves the message on the table and goes to the Floo Powder.
Which is just a really stupid way to travel on a stomach full of chocolate, alcohol and a mouth full of tar… of course this thought doesn't go through Harry's mind until after he just into the fireplace with the Floo Powder in his hand.
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To say that Harry isn't a bit surprised when the entire Order and Weasley family are in the sitting room with grave faces on, looking at him would be the understatement of the decade.
It takes a moment to shake the strange feeling of apprehension off of him but when he does he begins to think that he should've stayed at the apartment.
"Harry, did Percy come home last night?" Harry can't help the coldness that passes through his system at these words.
He shakes his head no.
It is Remus Lupin who takes up the thread. His amber eyes solemn and weary.
"There was an attack at the Ministry last night. There's been a small report on how many casualties, or the injured. There was a small number of hostages that were taken…" The raspy voice fades and Harry can feel his insides freeze…
"Is he dead?" His voice is shaking and he doesn't even bother trying to cover it up.
"No. His body wasn't recovered, and he wasn't in St. Mungo's. Besides with Molly's clock it's safe to say that he's still alive and even one of the hostages taken by the Dark Side." There is no relief for Harry.
Harry nods not able to think of what to say or do.
He thinks that he can get out of this reasonably unscathed and go back to looking for the Horcruxes, Percy or no.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'IT'S SAFE TO SAY!' HE COULD BE FUCKIN' DEAD! YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT--" Harry's trying to calm himself but he can't really. There so much frustration in him that he has no place to put it but in his mouth and the words that come out of it.
"HIS OWN FAMILY DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT HIM SO WHY SHOULD I EXPECT YOU TO--" The words are being choked in his throat. The words coming from his mouth are being garbled and his eyes are stinging.
That's when all hell breaks loose for Harry Potter, the Boy Whose Destined To Defeat The Dark Lord. It's when the burning starts in his head that he lets out a scream of hysterics and falls to the floor clutching his chest where his heart is beating so rapidly that it becomes a back of the mind worry of being punctured and exploding… it's when he feels his heart break and his vision becoming black. It's when his throat feels like its being torn in two, and arms are around him trying to calm him down that Harry finally figures out what he didn't know.
He. Harry James Potter, the boy who never had anything he wanted and barely the things that he needed, releases that he needs Percival Ignatius Weasley.
Why?
Because his bed is cold and his heart may never heal without him.
I love him.
Dear God.