Loud voices. A shout. A yell. Laughter that was bordering on obnoxious.

Loud. Piercing.

Loud.

Al rubbed his hands down along his trouser covered thighs, inhaling and exhaling, desperately trying to regain his senses. He swallowed, throat feeling dry as the punch he'd sipped on what seemed like hours ago was long gone. Everyone else was oblivious to his inner turmoil; they didn't notice anything was amiss with him.

You're being dramatic

Christmases at the Burrow were an extravagant affair; not so much in the fact that they had fancy things or presents piled up to the ceiling, rather it was a celebratory gathering with the whole family-not unlike Sunday evening dinners-where Grandmum made her famous dishes that could have fed an entire army, the finest of china that was given to Al's grandparents from Aunt Fleur was used and they would all squeeze in where they could in the living room to socialize and bask in the holiday cheer.

Everyone looked forward to it. Everyone was giddy and merry and bright.

All but Al.

The Burrow made him nervous. The anticipation of arriving, whether for the holidays or Sunday dinner, filled his insides with dread. A constant feeling of nausea that would make bile rise until the urge to vomit was unavoidable. He shouldn't feel that way, he'd remind himself when those feelings would arise and make a twinge of guilt fester. These people were his family.

But why did there have to be so many of them?

Trapped.

Al was trapped. The Burrow was relatively tiny compared to his own house which wasn't even that big either, for that matter. His legs were terribly wobbly, they could've given out at any second. He couldn't properly register who was in the living room and who was crowding into the kitchen. The voices, they all blended together. The laughter pounded in his ears.

Was he trembling? Or was he merely imagining it?

He didn't like crowds or loud noises that penetrated through his skull. Hogwarts was the worst; the cheers and screams kept him from attending quidditch games no matter how much his siblings and housemates urged him to come anyway. They didn't understand. None of them did. It would be of no use to tell them. Jamie and Freddie would have a field day tanning him over it. The rest of the family might pity him for it.

So he kept the secret to himself where it was safe.

Boom!

Al's heart nearly leaped out of his chest. The shriek died in his throat. He felt physically ill. His eyes darted around in search of the cause of the noise. An angry chorus of George rang around throughout the two rooms. Grandmum grabbed Uncle George by the ear-the one he had left, lecturing him on how he needed not to set off his products like that where someone could get hurt.

As it turned out, his uncle was innocent. Indigent sounding as he proclaimed he had nothing to do with it. The rest of the family didn't believe him, emitting scoffs and eye rolls and muttering under their breath. He had been telling the truth, however. It was all Jamie and Freddie's doing. They grinned shamelessly, even when Aunt Angelina and Mum erupted and rounded on them for pulling the stunt. Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting until he could slide in to get a word in edgewise.

Everyone else settled back into the conversations they held before, the adults remarking how similar Al's brother and cousin were to Uncle George and Uncle Fred at that age. They seemed relatively unbothered now, no longer startled.

All but Al.

His hands clenched and unclenched. Licking his lips over and over. He usually ran a hand through his hair repeatedly but Mum had specifically warned him not to mess it up. His hand lowered, falling limp to his side.

He needed to get out of there and soon slipped out without anyone noticing.

Al was the shy Potter child.

He was the one that was hardly noticed.

And that was alright with him. Except...sometimes.

Sometimes he wished he were noticed.

/

The snowflakes fell steadily to the ground, some into his hair. A gentle gust of wind made the already frigid air chillier. He pulled his cloak tighter to him, exhaling. His breath was visible, his hands red and splotchy. It wouldn't be long before they started to go numb from the cold. He'd have to go inside then.

He wished he didn't.

Al paced and forth, his hands pulling at his hair, shoving the thought that Mum was going to be upset with him aside. Why, why did he have to come? Why couldn't he stay home where it wasn't as loud and much calmer?

Why?

The snow crunched behind him. Al whirled around, eyes widening momentarily at seeing Uncle Percy standing there. He wore a kind smile. A genuine one. Not the half, awkward one he sometimes got.

"Hi," Al's voice was barely above a whisper, filled with shame at being caught. No one had witnessed him behave like that before. He was careful at hiding it.

Uncle Percy came beside him. He didn't force Al into hugs or slap him hard on the back like Uncle Charlie and Uncle George did. His eyes were soft, no trace of pity on his face like Al would have expected.

"I...I-" Al didn't know what to say. "Uncle Percy, you're not...you're not going to-"

"It's okay," Uncle Percy said gently. "Just breathe, Al. Deep breaths."

Al did what his uncle said to do, following his lead after he demonstrated. It took a few times for him to feel less light headed, less tense. But he got there.

"Are you okay now?" Uncle Percy said carefully.

Al couldn't look his uncle in the eye, shrugging.

"Did Jamie and Freddie scare you that badly?"

How could Al begin to explain that it wasn't just them? Al simply shrugged again. Uncle Percy didn't speak for some time; silence descended over them and they merely stood outside, watching as the snow covered the grassy plains of the Burrow property.

"I noticed you aren't very fond of loud noises or family gatherings."

Al's head darted in his uncle's direction, disbelieving because nobody else had figured that out. "You...did?"

"I always notice things," Uncle Percy said with another smile. "Come on, sit down with me."

"Our trousers will get wet," Al gave him a strange look.

Uncle Percy said nothing, brandishing his wand to cast two spells; the first being a warming charm-it was really bloody freezing out there and he sighed in relief at the feeling that came back into his fingers-and the other being so their trousers would remain dry. "There you are," He said.

Al humored him by sitting down on the ground, his knees up to his chest. His uncle sat next to him. He drew shapeless blobs in the snow. "How long have you known?" He said quietly.

"Long enough. I figured it out when I caught you covering your ears at George's birthday party."

A flush came over Al's face that had nothing to do with the weather. He remembered that party; the kids surrounded Uncle George as he faced two cakes-one being in memory of Uncle Fred. Al wanted to stand back away from everyone, not liking how suffocating it was to be so close to everyone. Mum and Grandmum had other ideas. They wanted Al to be with the rest of the cousins and his siblings. Grandmum wanted to get a picture of all them together and Mum had nodded encouragingly, in a way that Al knew he couldn't really refuse.

"Oh," Al murmured.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Uncle Percy said sympathetically, "being around a family like ours?"

Al ducked his head. "A bit," He admitted. "It's stupid."

"It really isn't."

He lifted his head, staring at his uncle in the eyes, unconvinced. "No one else is like me. I don't know anyone else that feels what I do and I can't tell anyone because they'll think I'm mad!"

Because you are

Even Jamie thinks something's wrong with you

Lily too

Mum and Dad probably do as well

"I am mad, aren't I, Uncle Percy?" Al's chest ached. "That's what's wrong with me."

"No," Uncle Percy took on a stern tone. It only lasted for a moment and then he softened. "Al, can I touch you? Is that okay?"

Al wasn't particularly fond of a lot of touching. He tolerated it when it came to family because he didn't have much of a choice. He'd be urged to hug them anyway. He liked his dad's hugs. They were nice and warm and made him feel good. Some people like Uncle Charlie were much too rough. He didn't like feeling as though life was getting squeezed out of him.

But..

But Uncle Percy asked instead of just assuming he was okay with it. And never once had he made Al feel distinctly uncomfortable. Maybe it was alright this time.

He nodded slowly.

Leaning forward, Uncle Percy's arms went around him. One hand was on the back of his head and the other around his middle area. It was one of those just right hugs; not too long or too short and just enough squeeze that didn't make him gasp. When he began to pull away, his uncle put one palm on his cheek.

"Al, listen to me," He said softly. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you."

Al lowered his eyes. "But...I'm strange, Uncle Percy."

"This whole family is strange," Uncle Percy chuckled. It made Al crack a tiny smile.

"I guess."

"If it's any consolation," Uncle Percy continued, "I'm not fond of crowds either."

It should have made him feel better but it didn't. Al pulled away completely. Uncle Percy watched him. "But you're different," He muttered. "Do they make you feel like you can't breathe or...or like you're...trapped?"

Uncle Percy looked concerned.

Al shuddered as a memory of the first day of classes from this year came back at full force. "That happened. First day of class. I was almost late because I..I couldn't go out there. The corridor, it was full of people. I just froze. I couldn't move. I ran back up to my dorm and stayed there until I thought it was safe."

He'd never so much as said it out loud since it happened.

"I thought I couldn't breathe," Al was shaking his head as those sensations he'd felt during the episode started to creep up again. "It was like I was being strangled. It's not normal, right? It's not normal. Normal people don't feel like-"

"Al," Uncle Percy's voice brought him back into focus, "just breathe, okay? It's alright. There. That's it. Good job."

If it was said by other certain people, Al might have thought they were being condescending. Uncle Percy was different. Somehow, it just felt sincere coming from him.

"Have you told your parents about this?" His uncle asked.

"No..."

"Don't you think you should?" Uncle Percy pressed.

"Why? They can't help me."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"How?" Uncle Percy said. "How do you know that?"

He didn't.

Technically.

"I just...I don't want to be a disappointment."

"Why would you be a disappointment?" Uncle Percy asked.

Al gave him a look, practically saying are you seriously asking me that. "I'm Harry Potter's son. I'm not supposed to be strange."

"What are you supposed to be, then?"

It took a moment for Al to answer, opening and closing his mouth several times. Finally, he settled on, "Normal."

"And what is normal?"

Why was he asking him that? "The opposite of me," Al responded.

"Why do you say that?"

"Uncle Percy," Al whined. He wasn't prone to it but this was exceedingly frustrating him.

Uncle Percy didn't seem to mind. He smiled again. "First off, you are not your dad. You're Al, my most favorite nephew.'

"You shouldn't have favorites," Al smiled slightly.

"It'll be our little secret, then," Uncle Percy winked. He then continued. "Second, stop feeling bad because you don't see the world like everyone else. This is not a flaw, Al, whatever this is. We can work around this, figure out how to make you more comfortable and deal with things that bother you."

Al's ears caught onto one word.
"We?"

"Well, you didn't think you were handling this all by yourself, did you?"

A warm sensation fluttered through Al's chest.

His uncle's smile was warm. "Whatever this is that you're going through doesn't change who you are, Al. You're still my brilliant nephew and the best wizard Gryffindor has seen in ages."

"Uncle Percy, don't exaggerate," Al groaned. He was nowhere the best.

"I'm most certainly not," Uncle Percy's eyes twinkled. "And as your uncle, I'm afraid you'll have to take my word for it."

Al rolled his eyes good-naturedly. There came more silence, but this time it didn't feel so heavy.

"I really think you should tell your parents," Uncle Percy said eventually. "They need to know."

Al shrugged.

"Al, I promise you, your parents aren't going to judge you. They love you so very much. I know if it was me and Molly or Lucy were dealing with what you're dealing with, I would want them to talk to me. I'd want them to know that they don't have to hide anything from me."

"Even if it's weird?" Al said quietly.

"Especially if it's weird."

Al was going to thank him when the door to the Burrow opened up and out came his Dad. He wasn't even wearing a cloak or a hoodie. He had a flash of worry across his face until he saw Al. Then he relaxed, looking greatly relieved.

"There you are, Al. I was beginning to wonder."

"Sorry, about that, Harry," Uncle Percy said as he rose to his feet and aided Al as well. "I didn't think to say anything before I came out here."

Dad waved off his apology. "Don't worry about it."

Al felt Uncle Percy's gaze linger on him, a silent source of encouragement for him to say something. "Dad," He said cautiously.

"Yeah, Al?" Dad said, looking attentive.

He's going to think you're mad

Because you are

Don't say anything

Just shut up

Al looked at Uncle Percy, feeling his Gryffindor courage come back to him. It gave him the strength he needed.

"I, er, need to tell you something."