A/N: For La Lectrice… no I am not a fan of the Order in fact I think that they are just a bunch of hypocritical assholes… as for the horror thing… I'm 'trying' it out. I don't know if it's going to work but I'm going to try… basically I'm cocky (braindead) enough to think that I read enough Stephen King to pull it off.
Chapt. 7
Love may be beautiful
Love may be bliss
But I only slept with you because I was pissed.
Percy POV
Percy is surrounded by darkness. There is no light and the moisture is starting to get up his nose. He can think of several plants that if put in a proper potion may relieve the symptoms he's starting to get but in actual truth they would do him no good.
Not that the knowledge would do him any good in the dungeon in which he's locked. The pains of the beatings only a few hours ago seem a fresh in his mind. There pains from the blows on the side of his head and his neck feels tender from where a pair of hands had squeezed until he could no longer breathe.
Several things are going on in his head at once. The thoughts are crowding over each other and creating a blinding ache in the left side of his head.
Harry used to run his hands through his hair trying not to snag his fingers on the curls. Sometimes it would work and sometimes it wouldn't.
Percy can hear the malicious laughter of his torturers. In fact he thinks he recognizes one of them. Flint? Being a Death Eaters would be something that the Slytherin Troll would do.
When the shadow of a light comes and the cold raspy voice of a woman that looks truly mad comes Percy knows that he will be hurt beyond belief tonight.
A new voice comes to life. The shadow of what appears to be a man falls into the door way.
"Come now, give him to me."
"Don't be a glutton, Fenrir. He is to be saved as a warning."
"He smells so good. Delicious, something my pack would dearly love." The small chuckle of laughter reaches Percy's ears.
"I'll allow you to take more prisoners then. I'm sure there are some that would do quite nicely."
"Bless you Bellatrix." The loud burst of laughter makes it hard for Percy to anticipate the 'Crucio' that hits harder than the one only a couple of hours before.
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Harry POV:
Harry isn't the most empathic of people. Not even with Neville despite the fact that he and Neville share a common history. One where neither of them have parents who can tell them out loud that they love them. One where one or the other could have been the Boy- Who- Lived.
No, Harry isn't the most empathetic of people, but it has never gotten him in the dumps as he is now. He knows that the Weasley's are suffering from Percy's abduction but for some reason he cannot help but feel it was their entire fault.
He blames them for insulting Percy, for turning him away for every hurt that Percy received. However Harry seems to overlook his own hypocrisy. The way that he couldn't stand Percy when he was at Hogwarts and how he blamed him for the near invisible but still their incompletion of the Weasley's. The tears that Mrs. Weasley was always trying to hide.
Once he thought of blaming Percy for making him feel this way. The hurt and betrayal being worse than when Sirius died, or when Dumbledore was murdered. But if he thinks of that he remembers how he and Percy got together. Not a fairy tale romance that Harry secretly wanted or the passionate union that he thought he might receive.
No, a drunken spar that never seemed to end. Not that he wanted it to do.
Harry wanted Percy only because they were both drunk and out of character. Harry wanted Percy because Percy didn't care if he was going to save the Wizarding World. Harry wanted Percy because he thought the red head was beautiful.
Harry didn't want Percy to love him. Or for him to love Percy. No, it was never about love. Love was for when he married Ginny and had a bunch of kids that would love him without any hitches.
But when they had sex Harry couldn't help but think that he loved Percy. Percy as he was to Harry, not Percival Ignatius Weasley, not even Perce. Just Percy. Two syllables that rolled of his tongue so easily when he fell asleep. The way that Harry's name rolled off of Percy's when he came down from his orgasm.
Harry doesn't know whether to cry or to scream, as he stands in the apartment, that he secretly loved Percy.
He can see The Room in the corner of his eye. The only thing that was entirely Percy, the one that Harry was starting to love.
He knows that he could go in there.
He knows that he would go in there.
But what he doesn't know is, if he could handle it.
Because when it comes to secretly loving Percy he doesn't seem to be able to handle a lot of things.
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