A little info: Percy is a single dad; Molly was born in '99 and in the story she's 14 and Lucy is 12. Molly being born in '99 is part of a headcanon I have but anyway, enjoy! And, if you have any requests dont hesitate to comment!
Contrary to what his oldest might believe, Percy wasn't stupid.
He remembered his Hogwarts days quite well; the times where his dormmates gave into the temptation of teenage rebellion, trying to coax him into joining and him blatantly refusing. Oliver, in particular, had a difficult time suppressing his urge to sneak out well after dark to practice his flying for quidditch. For a while, he seemed to have thought Percy didn't notice but he was most definitely wrong; Oliver couldn't have stayed quiet as he pulled on his jumper and shoes to save his life.
Oh, yes, it was as if it was yesterday.
Only now, a number of years later, a divorce and two lovely girls, he was dealing with that same rebellion all over again-with his own daughter.
Molly was his pride and joy, his first born. She and him had always been inseparable, especially after her mother leaving them so abruptly. All had been well until she entered her teenage years and suddenly that sweet little darling child that clung to him, declaring to the entire family that she was going to marry him once she was older, was now having a rather poor attitude and, as of last night, getting drunk.
Percy didn't make it a habit of leaving his girls alone-call it fear but even though the war had been over fifteen years now, it was difficult to get rid of old habits. There were still times when he'd receive a letter or hear a loud noise and it brought him back to those days, that night and he'd feel as though he'd been soused with icy water all over again.
He didn't expect to be cornered by his boss about some meeting all the way in Brazil he and a few other selected officials were required to attend. It would take a few hours longer than he'd like, but there was no way out of it. It would look rather professional of him, should he not go. As much as he wasn't exactly fond of his current job, he needed it, financial wise, so he was resigned to that fact.
Usually, he'd leave them in the care of his parents; they were all too happy to see their granddaughters so they never minded. For that, he was thoroughly grateful; grateful for their never ending support through his reconciliation and divorce.
But, the girls were getting older, much as he hated to recognize that. He couldn't keep treating them like little children so, with great reluctance, he decided to allow them to stay at the house by themselves with Molly in charge.
It wasn't really ideal. While a week had passed without any major outbursts from his daughter or any complaints about her attitude, Percy couldn't help the knot that had formed in his stomach. He just knew something was bound to go wrong but he wanted to trust his girls and give them a bit of independence like they (or, more accurately, more so Molly), were yearning for.
Molly had been ecstatic, repeatedly reassuring him that everything would be fine and taken care of.
He really should have known better.
It was right after his meeting had finished. He'd been in a foul mood; hungry, tired, ready to get away from those twats and go back to his own home where he could relax and not have to hear his name roll off from their tongue so haughtily.
He'd been just about to apparate when he received an owl from Lucy. The sight of Bubbles (Lucy's owl, which seemed to have an attitude of its own) nearly sent him into a panic right then and there. He took the letter out into the hallway, away from the prying eyes to read it.
His jaw had clenched and he'd gripped the letter until his knuckles went a sickly white.
Molly had evidently invited one of her close muggle friends over for the evening, something of which he didn't have a problem with; but somewhere along the night, between the loud music and pizza, one of them had the bright idea of getting into his liquor cabinet where he kept his firewhiskey and both girls were wasted.
Firewhiskey was far more potent than any muggle alcohol so the hangover would be much more severe.
Needless to say, Percy was furious. There had been some bumps lately, with him wondering what had gone wrong and how his lovely child had turned into someone he hardly recognized. But he thought they were getting over it. He thought she was starting to mature, something.
He'd given them a lecture just be left, reminding them that this was a test and they needed to be responsible. Molly had waved her hand, telling him that he didn't need to be worried, that they would be fine.
He hadn't expected perfection. It was their first time. Nothing could have prepared him for that. It should have been something minor! A fight with Lucy over something trivial, a broken vase, an injury that could have been mended quickly-anything else but that!
Merlin, he felt like a failure.
That sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen to families like his. His kids weren't out of control like the kids of a couple coworkers he could easily name. His kids had rules, boundaries; they had curfews and couldn't eat their dessert before eating all of their vegetables and they most certainly couldn't just roam the streets as they pleased.
It was difficult to accept and he wanted nothing more than to rush back that instant and shake Molly until all that nonsense was taken right out of her. He barely kept a rein on his temper. If it wasn't for him remembering where he was, with who he was in the presence of, he would have lost it.
But he didn't. He was quite calm as he apparated back, inhaling and exhaling a handful of times before walking inside. Lucy was at the kitchen table, quietly poking at a sandwich. Molly, she'd mentioned with a gesture toward the stairs, had gone straight to bed after Lucy helped drag her there.
She didn't know the whole story. Apparently, Lucy had been upstairs reading when this all occurred and went to ask Molly about dinner when she came across Molly and her friend, Clara, stumbling and giggling madly.
Percy could tell that his youngest had been a bit scared by the incident, having never seen her sister act that way before and he inwardly shook his head. He embraced Lucy, telling her that she'd done the right thing by telling him and that even if Molly became upset with her, she would get over it eventually.
Of course, with that in mind, he'd debated on how to approach the topic with Molly. Storming into her bedroom, screaming at her wouldn't do any good for either of them. But neither would suppressing a reaction. Molly had to understand that her behavior was entirely unacceptable and that there would be consequences for it. He did not want a repeat of this.
Ultimately, Percy decided to wait until the morning to broach the subject. She would be hungover by then, miserable and searching for an anti hangover potion that was going to mysteriously disappear from the cabinet.
Although, as he later found out, he didn't have to wait until the morning for her to be feeling the effects from her impromptu drinking. She threw up half the night. Lucy had come into his room at one point, begging for him to put up a silencing charm so she didn't have to hear her gagging.
When he awoke hours later, he did his typical Saturday morning routine. He brushed his teeth, combed his hair and went downstairs to prepare some breakfast. Lucy was already there, setting down a plate of eggs and pancakes in the spot he usually sat in.
He accepted it with a warm smile. He and Lucy ate breakfast without bringing up the previous night's activities and somewhere around noon, Molly stumbled down the stairs and by Merlin, did she look a sight.
Her hair was disheveled, not even brushed yet; eyes were puffy and red, looking as though she'd been gravely ill. She was moving slowly, wincing at the tiniest bit of sound and turned a sickly pale at the sight of eggs and pancakes on the counter.
For a split second, their eyes met and she swallowed thickly. He thought she was going to confess or make up some lie in order to get out of the mess she'd gotten herself into. However, she had no time for either. A knock on the front door took the spotlight off of her.
As he went to go answer it, he gave her a look on his way by that clearly conveyed how this wasn't finished yet and she seemed to have understood, with the way her eyes lowered.
It was a woman at the door, Clara's mum, to be exact. She was absolutely irate at the fact that her daughter came home drunk and was still throwing up. She yelled at Percy, blatantly insulted his parenting skills and suggested he'd better invest in a lock. He kindly, despite feeling anything but kindness, suggested that she not worry because he could deal with his girls just fine.
"Oh, yes, just fine," she'd retorted, flustered. "I have a fourteen year old that's hungover and you think that's fine, don't you?"
"I think," he cut in sharply, "you should go take care of your daughter and I'll take care of mine, thank you."
She didn't speak right away, a cluster of emotions flickering across her face. Finally, she huffed. "Fine. Have it your way. But just don't expect my kid to ever come back." With that, she turned around and stormed over.
A deafening silence came over the house.
When he turned back to face them, Molly looked like she was on the verge of tears, whether that was because she was ashamed and the weight of what happened had crashed down on her or she was upset at getting caught-he didn't know. What he did know, however, was that they needed to have a talk.
"Come with me," he told her, nodding toward the stairs.
She followed him, feebly, without any of the argument that would have ensued if she was feeling alright.
They went into her room and he shut the door after she came in, curling up on her bed. "Sit up," he commanded. "I want you to pay attention."
She obeyed, groaning and clenching at her head. "Dad, can you be a little quieter?" she said weakly. "Merlin, my head hurts."
"Wonder why?" he said rhetorically, crossing his arms. He loomed over her, giving her the most disappointed look. He didn't speak for all of two minutes, pacing back and forth with her watching, or best as she could. "I really don't understand what's gotten into you, Molly." He threw his hands up the air, exasperatedly. "This-drinking! You know better then this. I raised you better than this!"
She had the decency to look abashed.
"You know you're not supposed to ever touch my firewhiskey. What made you think for a moment that this was okay? Hmm?"
"I-I don't know," she was shrinking at how angry he was, for it was rare that he raised his voice like he was doing now. "Clara was bragging that her dad let her drink and I didn't wanna look stupid so I said you did, too. And I dunno, I only meant to have one drink."
"It's never just one drink, Mol," he shook his head. "You should know that. You remember what Uncle Charlie said, don't you? About being dependent on firewhiskey after Uncle Fred died? He never meant to get hooked, either. But he did. And it all started because he had one drink."
"Yeah, but dad," she shifted her position, wincing a moment later. "I'm not gonna be like that."
"You don't know that," his anger was resurfacing again. "Your Uncle Charlie said the same thing when your Uncle Bill warned him. My point is, you are not invincible like you think you are. And I will not, will not my daughter do that to herself. As long as you are living in my house, you will be obeying my rules and that includes no drinking until you are of age."
"Why are you freaking out?" Molly exclaimed-surprisingly loud for someone with a headache. "You drink."
"I-" he punctuated the word with a point of his finger in her direction, "am of age. You aren't. And I don't drink that often. Moreover, this isn't about me. This is about you. Do you even realize what could have happened?"
"But nothing happened! Clara and I are fine."
"That's not the point. You were lucky, very lucky. What if you'd done magic? Or go outside of the house? What if you or Clara got seriously hurt? Or Lucy? What if someone saw you? Do you understand that it wouldn't be reflected on you, but on me? Do you want you and your sister to be taken away? Because that's exactly what would happen if someone else knew and they thought I allowed that to happen. Is that what you want, Molly?"
"No," she whimpered, her bottom lip trembling.
"Then you need to start thinking about the consequences," he snapped. "I don't care if Clara thinks you're stupid becuase you know what? By the way her mother was reacting, I'd reckon she lied to you. So how does that feel? She lied and now you can't be around her anymore. Was that worth it?"
Molly buried her face into her hands, sobbing.
Percy's chest ached. He didn't want his baby girl to cry but she also needed to know that this was serious.
"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I'm sorry, Daddy."
He could tell that she was being genuine this time and not some halfhearted response she'd been giving him so he'd stop talking and leave her alone.
He sat down on the edge of her bed, pulling her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. She cried into his chest, mumbling incoherently. "I know you are, honey," he told her, caressing her long hair. "I know. I'm sorry I raised my voice but you need to understand that you can't do this stuff. I don't like yelling at you or your sister. I don't like having to punish you guys. But I do it because I love you both dearly. You know that, don't you?"
He felt her nod.
"Good," he kissed her forehead when she pulled back. "Now we need to talk about your punishment."
"I know," she mumbled.
"You're grounded for a month. No friends, no owling anyone, no radio, nothing. You're going to do extra chores and the next time I have to leave you're staying with your grandparents."
"For how long?" Molly wiped at her eyes.
"That depends on you. You need to prove to me that you can be trusted because right now, I don't have very much trust in you."
There was a look of hurt that briefly passed over her face.
"Molly, I want the best for you and Lucy. I want you to grow up to do anything you want to do. But what I don't want is for you to make some mistake that costs you. I made enough of those already, I don't want you doing the same," Percy sighed.
"I won't," she promised, then grimaced. "I'm never drinking again."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it," and he gave her the first real smile that day.
"Does this mean I can have an anti hangover potion? Please?" She bit her lip in anticipation.
"I'm afraid not," he said, watching her face fall. "That's also part of your punishment. You made the choice and now you have to live with it."
"I guess that's fair," she admitted. A couple seconds passed by. "Daddy?"
"Yes, Mol?"
"I'm sorry."
"For drinking?" he clarified.
"No-well, yeah but also acting like a brat lately," she flushed, unable to look him in the eye.
"I know you are," Percy said, smiling fondly. "But I am expecting a change in behavior from now on."
"I will," she nodded. "I love you, Dad."
"I love you, too," he said earnestly, giving her a tight hug.