to the guest that's left me reviews about them worried if someone in the family has been doing this to a child, i can't really give any advice on that (especially through the internet) beyond just contacting your local child protection services/committee and letting them take over the case and to investigate it properly.

The Mother Who Cried Werewolf

Chapter Four

You've Broken What?

"Is this it?" Arthur asked, showing the twins the box of chocolates. Molly had just gone out to do the food shopping, and he was out gathering some much-needed evidence. "This is your box of…um…joke sweets?"

"Oi, Fred, look, it's our Skiving Snackboxes!" George called out to Fred.

"Dad, wait, I'll get Ron and Ginny," Fred ran out of the room. Arthur wasn't glad about that.

"And Charlie and Bill!" George called out after them. Arthur did suppose this concerned the whole family.

As the whole family save for Molly and Percy were shoved into the twins' small bedroom, Arthur was struggling to breathe. He wondered if this was the best idea considering everything.

Charlie and Bill looked as flummoxed as him, so he supposed that he was due for some company.

The twins, Ron and Ginny huddled and were talking as Fred turned to the drawers beside his bed. He opened them and took out a glossy box that looked the same as the one that Arthur was holding in his hand.

"Look, dad, it's the same box," Fred picked up an identical-looking box on his bed and showed Arthur. Strike two for Molly Weasley. He opened the box and expertly pointed at the sugar-coated orange sweets cut into two halves. "This is the end that makes you sick," he gestured to one row, which was labelled MAKE SICK, and then pointed to the other row labelled STOP SICK. "And this is the one that stops you from being ill. Does Percy have his in the box?"

Arthur opened the box in his hands and noticed that the Puking Pastille in the MAKE SICK portion was missing.

"No, I don't suppose that bit is there," Arthur frowned. This was serious. "And the other bit still is."

"Yeah, that's because we gave him the other end from our box," Fred pointed at another box strewn across the room.

"See, dad?" George was brimming with excitement. When did the family get so divided that everyone proving that Percy wasn't physically sick was such a big priority to them? "Percy was lying about being sick all along."

"Can't believe it," Charlie looked distraught. "Dad, do you think this is true?"

"He swallowed that bit just fine," Bill reminded him. Charlie nodded his head.

"And mum knows now," Fred added on. "She knows that he's not really ill. She knows that he's faking it. And everything can go back to normal now."

Arthur had a feeling that it ran deeper than that. He felt the weight of the family's problems on his shoulders. This issue had had the house divided. Everyone was looking at Percy like he was a Death Eater because he just happened to go into the hospital every now and then.

"You've not told them, have you, dad?" Bill whispered, but everyone else had heard him.

"Told us what?" Ron asked with his arms crossed over his chest.

"That dad's leaving mum," Charlie answered. Arthur didn't find it surprising that Bill had confided in Charlie for that. It was a little hard to keep that sort of information to yourself.

"Dad, you can't be leaving mum!" Ginny looked white. "It's not mum's fault Percy is the way that he is."

"I don't… Ginny, boys, this is really hard for me to explain," Arthur stated. "But it's not Percy's fault."

"Of course, it's his fault," Ron huffed. "Why else would he want to leave mum? All you do is fight about him. Maybe it'll be better if we can just take him to some nursing home and have someone take care of him. Then everyone would be happy. Percy could get everything that he wanted."

Arthur would never do anything like that to Percy. "Percy does not make himself ill."

The twins both looked at him, white-faced and angry. "He does!"

"He admitted that he can swallow!" Fred followed.

"He ate that sweet right in front of our eyes! You found the box in his room!" George assumed, waving his hands around in disinterest.

"I didn't find the box in his room," Arthur honestly replied. "I found it in your mum's room."

They looked gobsmacked, flinching away like Arthur had raised a hand to them.

"He hid it there," Fred insisted. "I don't know why, but-but mum wouldn't make Percy sick, dad."

"Yeah," George didn't look convinced by Fred's reasoning either. "Why would she have them?"

"Dad, are you serious?" Charlie looked a little ashen himself. "Do you think that…"

"I think that your mother has been making Percy sick for her own—personal—Merlin knows what—pleasure?" the more Arthur thought about it, the more he made sense. "You boys know that it makes sense. Percy never wants to be in the hospital. You always have to drag him there, but your mum has his overnight bag packed before he's even in A&E."

"No, dad, you're wrong," George insisted. "Mum's not made Percy sick. Percy makes himself sick."

"What does mum get out of it?" Fred didn't understand that bit. Arthur didn't think he did either.

"The only thing I can think about is that she meets up with her mates in the sewing circle every week," Arthur could remember how irritated she had been before that she couldn't have at least a semi-posh wedding because her mate, Valerie, had an extravagant one last week before they were due to be married. "And I think she quite likes it when they call her a saint for everything that she's done for him."

"Dad, mum deserves better that," Bill himself looked agog. "She wouldn't make Percy sick just for people to tell her that she's a good mum for taking care of him! That doesn't even make any sense!"

"Percy's her own child, dad," Charlie reminded him, as if he'd forgotten. "She wouldn't hurt him like that."

Arthur was plenty sure that that was what was going on. "I don't think that your mum likes Percy very much," he admitted. She made it look like she did by spending all her time with him, but she was making him ill. She wanted something to happen to him, or she didn't care if it did. "I haven't told you any of this, but your mum has changed since she'd had Percy. She's a lot moodier and hostile. A healer even said that he'd wanted her to go into the healers for an evaluation, but your mother wouldn't have it. I do…I do think that it's possible that she doesn't care much about him at all."

He could remember that his wife seemed happier to talk to the nursing staff when Percy was in hospital or take horrific pictures of him when he was sleeping and ill. She took photos of his deformed arms before, and she had to have about a hundred photos of his tubes everywhere. Arthur thought it was odd but took it as an idiosyncrasy. Now, it made him sick to think that maybe the sights of all those things satisfied her.

"Dad, you can't leave mum," was all that Ron said quietly.

"It'll be better this way," Arthur insisted.

"Yeah, for you," George eyed him with a hard look.

It made sense why Percy had monitors on him when he didn't need him, why Molly insisted that he always be in bed, and why she insisted on taking him to Diagon Alley every week. It wasn't for him. It was for her.

When Arthur headed to Percy's room, he found him looking a little spaced out and tired. He looked so dry, and Arthur had forgotten that beyond eating that one sweet, he hadn't had anything else afterwards. "You must be starving," he said, running his hand through Percy's hair. "What would you like to have?"

Percy looked sullen. "I don't want anything," he sounded hoarse from how much he'd been vomiting.

Arthur frowned. "Percy—"

"Please just leave me alone," Percy cut him off.

"You look a little tired," Arthur had noticed.

"I'm fine. Just leave me alone," Percy turned away from him almost to signal that the conversation had ended.

Arthur reached out to stroke his hair, which was still a little damp. Just as he was about to leave, he thought that Percy's arm was positioned a little strangely. He pulled the duvet off of him and found his wrist in a mangled position. A little bit of his bone was poking out of the skin even. It was sickening to look at.

"Did your mother do this?" Arthur finally asked. Percy's face remained indifferent. He refused to tell him anything.

Skele-Gro didn't work when you put it through a tube. It had to be ingested by mouth. Over this last year, Arthur had taken him to the hospital and watched healers wrap him up in plaster like they did with muggles and sent him home. They used a special wand to relocate the bone before putting on the plaster.

The thought that his wife might have intentionally done that to him was unthinkable.

"Percy," Arthur's voice was as stern as he could make it. "Did your mother break your wrist?"

"How dare you, Arthur, accuse me of-of breaking my son's hand!" Molly looked furious standing by the door.

Arthur turned to see Molly standing there looking genuinely livid. As Arthur would have if Molly had accused him of the same thing.

"Well, did she?" Arthur asked Percy again, almost prompting him to put his mother into shame. "Percy, please."

As far as Arthur knew, he wasn't mysteriously left alone with his nearly bedridden son for an hour. Arthur didn't hear him fall. He didn't hear a scream or as much as a moan coming from Percy's room. Whatever had happened had happened in Percy's hand, Arthur was sure had something to do with his wife. He'd bet his life on it.

"Yes, Percy, why don't you tell your father how wrong he is?" Molly asked, moving over to him. "What have you done to your hand? Why don't you tell him the truth?"

Arthur felt himself grow furious. He was sick of everyone blaming this poor child for everything that had gone wrong in their lives. "Have you done this on purpose, Percy?" Arthur said quietly.

Percy nodded his head, but he didn't even look convincing.

"It's alright," Arthur tried to convince him. He felt like a fool, putting on a show for everyone when on the inside, he'd already made up his mind. Percy had nothing to do with this. He was the victim. And now that he'd made up his mind, he didn't want to leave Molly alone with Percy, not for another second. "I'll get you a Skele-Gro for your wrist."

They always had Skele-Gro around the house. Considering Percy's multiple fractures here and there, they always had a bottle on hand. Thinking back to that, he shuddered. All this time, had Molly been deliberating hurting Percy to shut him up? Arthur had never noticed how docile Percy was when Molly was talking to him. He would've never told her that he wanted to be left alone like he had told Arthur.

He didn't even remember what Percy ate when he used to eat. He was rummaging around the fridge, trying to find something non-offensive. He ended up throwing leftover roast lamb, potatoes and vegetables into a wholemeal wrap. He opened the sweet cupboard and just threw in a couple of chocolate bars—two honeycomb and caramel ones. Along with a large jug of water, he returned back to Percy's room. Arthur was relieved to find Charlie sitting at the edge of the bed. He was washing Percy's deformed hand with a wet cloth, but he was doing it a little roughly.

"Easy," Arthur ordered when he noticed the way that Percy was wincing and complaining. But when he was talking, he made no sound. Arthur noticed that his tracheostomy tube had been meddled with. The speech valve in his tracheostomy had been removed and was lying by his side. It was the most talkative he'd seen Percy in ages, and it had to be when he couldn't actually talk.

Then a sinking feeling came into Arthur's stomach. That was how Percy's fractures were such a silent affair to begin with. If Molly took out the speech valve from his tracheostomy, Percy couldn't say a word. No Silencio needed. She didn't even have to listen to how much she was torturing her child by waving her wand around and grinding his wrist into powder.

Arthur took the cloth from Charlie and gently cleaned off the area himself. He let Percy eat first with his other hand. He felt nauseated seeing how quickly Percy ate. He must've cleared the whole massive wrap in about three bites.

"Percy, slow down," Arthur insisted as he opened the chocolate bar for him.

Percy did not slow down. The pace at which he ate that chocolate bar made Arthur furious. He doubted that he even tasted what he'd eaten. He reached out for the second chocolate bar with his good hand. There was an animalistic look in his eyes. Arthur opened it for him because he had a feeling Percy would cram it down his throat, wrapper and all. After he'd eaten, he didn't look the least bit satisfied. If anything, he looked even hungrier and more miserable than he ever had.

His face changed when he had to drink the Skele-Gro. He had no idea what it must be like to grow up drinking that. He'd only had it once briefly when he'd broken his arm as a seventh year in a Quidditch match. He could still remember how vile it was, and Percy looked like he'd rather have a broken wrist than drink another Skele-Gro.

Arthur felt bad for practically coercing Percy to drink it. He'd brought the drink to his mouth and made him slug it down without giving him an option. Percy tried to move away but Charlie held him down and it wasn't hard.

He knew why they took the speech valve out of Percy's tracheostomy because he was shaking and screaming soundlessly. Even if it was just a few minutes to see his wrist was mended again, the sight just left Arthur spinning. After his wrist had been mended, Percy just laid there, panting heavily.

"Well, now we have that all sorted out," Molly said. "Everything is out in the open."

"Yeah, we'll get you help, Perce," Charlie looked back at his dad, looking guilty. That was when Arthur realised that he believed their mother's story about Percy hurting himself. "Dad, we were going to play Quidditch, aren't we?"

Arthur started having palpitations thinking of Molly being alone with Percy all day when he was out with the rest, playing Quidditch. "Percy, come on," he said gently. "Come play with us."

"He can't play. He—" Molly began and then realised that she'd caught herself. How could Percy be too ill to play but also be faking his illnesses? Either he was fine, or he wasn't. "Well, don't be home too late." She shot an angry look over at Arthur, who had taken it all in stride.

Percy looked so stunned that he'd been invited out that Arthur swore that he almost smiled at him.