Chapter Nine
Arthur moved towards Percy's room and slithered inside as quietly as possible. He kept his wand close to his body just in case he needed to yell out any spells immediately. His family could be in some sort of danger right about now, and he didn't want to take any chances. He pointed the wand over at the offending character for a few moments.
Standing in the middle of the room was Percy – his child, Percy. His hair was an absolute mess. He looked paler than usual. His normally rather thin child was scrawnier; enough that Arthur could see his cheekbones were more prominent. His rather colourful pants were baggy and had ridden up enough that Arthur could see the ghost of that terrible wound that they'd been talking about. He'd only seen a scrap of it and felt his stomach twinge. That wound took up half of Percy's leg! It was currently stitched and bandaged the muggle way… the painful way where they had to sew it in themselves.
It took a few seconds for him to see that Percy was hugging Lucius Malfoy's files to his chest. He knew those files; he'd taken them himself from the file cabinet in the Ministry.
That crook Malfoy! Sending his child here to steal files! The nerve of him!
He moved towards his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. Percy immediately jolted up, clinging to those files as he moved away from his father and towards the end of the room.
Arthur moved closer towards his son, but all it seemed to do was make Percy hyperventilate and look down. His child was frightened of his own father, and that made Arthur feel sick. He had never physically harmed Percy, and he would never dare to raise his hand on any of his children, yet this did not matter to him because obviously, he had to be doing something wrong if his child did not want to look at him in the eye.
Arthur chuckled and shook his head, "What are you doing with those?"
Percy's hands were steady as he pulled the files to himself. He didn't answer Arthur's question.
Arthur's eyes moved from the files down to Percy's pants. "I want to see your leg, Percy. Is it okay if I see your wound? Bill's told me about it… I want to…"
Percy tucked the file under his arm and used one of his chubby hands to slowly move his pants leg up so that Arthur could see that bandaged gash. The wound was absolutely massive, running from Percy's ankle up to his thigh and it was thicker than one of Molly's cakes. The bandage that covered the wound was already soiled with blood; the scent of which Arthur could detect from across the room.
The man slowly moved closer to inspect the damage.
Arthur's breathing was short and shallow as he moved to touch it. He slowly removed some part of the bandage just so he'd have a better look at the wound underneath. The stitching itself made Arthur want to vomit. He was furious at whoever thought that healing wounds in the muggle way was acceptable!
Percy leaned down to close the bandage, and pull down his pants.
"Give those to me," Arthur pointed towards the files, pulling his hands out.
Percy just shook his head. "No," he finally said.
Arthur's heart raced as he heard the sound of his son's voice – he hadn't heard Percy speak in so long. It somehow reinforced the idea that his child was here, with him; in this little room… alive.
"Please give it to me," Arthur's voice held no force or anger as it would've under normal circumstances. He was begging for his son to do the right thing and return those files. "Please."
"No," Percy insisted, his voice louder and far more stern.
Arthur shook his head and smiled weakly over at his son. "You see, if I don't give back those files back to the Ministry, then I'm going to be in an awful amount of trouble for it. You don't want your father to end up in trouble now, do you?"
Percy looked back at those files and then back at his soft-eyed father. "I have to give him these."
"Lucius Malfoy," Arthur's eyes darkened. He knew. "You don't owe him anything. You don't owe him this file… now, give it back, Percival. This could mean my career on the line."
Percy's eyes darkened all of a sudden, and he aged a few years. "He saved my life."
Arthur didn't know how to respond to that. He did know that Percy had to have somehow gotten help from someone about that wound, but he never in a million years would have guessed that Malfoy would stoop so low as to win his son's favour in a few acts of kindness and turn him against his own father.
"Percy, that man is nothing more than a manipulative liar," Arthur tried to steady his voice but just the thought of Lucius Malfoy smirking as he knew that he had Percy around his finger was enough to drive Arthur Weasley mad with rage.
Percy stared at his father with an angry look in his eyes.
"I don't care!" Percy exclaimed in a high voice.
Arthur didn't expect it at all, but his five-foot-six son that couldn't weigh more than Ginny had pushed the man aside and ran as fast as he could.
It took a few moments for Arthur to register what had happened before he found himself running after his redheaded son. Somehow, throughout this conversation, it hadn't registered to the man that his son still somehow wanted to leave even after all the pain that he had went through. He thought that Percy was coming home, but he was a fool!
His son was stealing from them! His son!
Arthur ran outside, panting for breath.
LUCIUS Malfoy was standing outside his door, smug. The files were in his hands, and Percy was hiding behind that man. This sickened Arthur, to know that his son preferred Malfoy to him.
"Percy," Arthur announced, not even caring about those files. It was his fault for mentioning them in the first place – what kind of a father mentioned files first thing when their child practically rose from the dead?
Arthur shut his eyes. "Come back home, Percy. Please."
Lucius then decided to speak, "Arthur, do you want to further torture this poor child?" he placed his hand on Percy's head and Arthur had never felt such an intense need to sever off another person's extremity before. Malfoy had no right to touch his son. "Your own child doesn't want to be with you."
"You stole from me, Percy," Arthur tried to make him see what he did was wrong.
Lucius then raised an eyebrow. "Correction, Arthur – you stole my files from the Ministry. The Minister doesn't know about these at all, does he? I could've just brought it to his attention, and have you fired from your pathetic post but I decided not to, simply out of the goodness of my heart."
Goodness of his heart! Like anyone would believe that. Arthur glared icily, "So you can blackmail me."
"That too," Lucius smoothly replied, shaking his head. "You and I both know that this is your feeble attempt at trying to dig some sort of dirt on me around the time of the war, and it won't work, Weasel. You're too idiotic to know that I'm very good friends with the poor lad that does the filing. Do you think I'd let anything discriminating go into my record? Do you think you could have one over on me?"
Arthur actually did. He'd been reading the thing for a while, hoping to get to some kind of theory. As long as a Malfoy was part of the Ministry, he did not believe that the wizarding community was safe – especially with a Minister that was so easy to persuade. Lucius Malfoy was the master of manipulation.
"Get your hands off him," Arthur hissed.
Lucius rolled his eyes. "Territorial, aren't you, Arthur?" he pulled Percy close to him.
Arthur's heart was pumping loudly in his chest. "This is some sort of sick joke, isn't it?"
Lucius smirked. "Says the man that left his precious son out on the Brighton street, bleeding to his near death all on his own? Tsk, tsk, Arthur…"
PERCY felt his stomach flop as he looked back between Lucius and Arthur. There was a cold tension in the air that he could not mentally cope with. He hated that Lucius was touching him and acting almost as if Percy was nothing more than a prize for Malfoy to pride around; almost showing his father 'oh, look, I've found your little son; the one that you've been looking for after all this time. I've won' and it made him feel furious. Nobody was winning this time around. Nobody but him will win at the end of this.
He had noticed that Lucius was bare of vials and potions. It didn't take him long to find out that he was not going to be given the supplies that he needed.
Arthur opened his mouth to defend himself, but in all reality, he couldn't. His speechlessness made Lucius Malfoy laugh, as he brought Percy close to himself. "That's it, isn't it, Weasel? You don't have an excuse for the things that happened to this child… do you?"
"Percy," Arthur said in a soft voice. "He's lying to you. He's trying to manipulate you. I am your father… you have to believe me."
Percy glanced back at Lucius Malfoy. He didn't believe a word coming out of the white-haired man's mouth. He also didn't believe anything his father had told him. He had come to the conclusion that both of them were terribly, terribly wrong. Percy stared back up at the man that had been taking care of him for years… he hated him.
"Where's my room?" Percy suddenly sputtered; images of that empty, empty space where his bed, closet and table used to be had made him feel sick. There was nothing in that house that was his anymore. He didn't care what anyone said to him – it was bloody obvious that nobody wanted him around!
He tried to hide back his tears, and it was difficult. He was in so much pain.
Arthur opened his mouth to speak and stuttered, "I-I… I thought you were dead, Percival."
His family thought he was dead, and they chucked out all of his things almost immediately; almost as if they had no value – and then they told him they cared? Liars. All of them!
Percy was full of so much hate and he didn't know where to displace it. "So, you got rid of all my things in what? A two-day period since my supposed 'death'… tell me, father, what exactly were you planning to do with the space that I was taking up?"
Arthur looked shameful. Good! He should be. "It… it isn't like that, son."
Son? Percy glared icily over at Arthur. "Oh no, you are mistaken. I am not your son."
Percy looked down at his feet. He hated this man for what he had done to him.
"Why did you do it?" his father practically yelled at him. "How dare you leave your mother, Percival? She's been in absolute hell ever since you've left. How dare you steal from me? How dare you tear this family apart for your own selfish reasons? And to think – this was over a few books that you've lost!"
Books? What books? Percy then remembered that the twins had taken away his books. He felt himself grow angry. This was not just one gigantic temper tantrum. He was not that stupid and pathetic that he wouldn't mind dying because of a few bloody books!
Percy shook recklessly with anger. "I hate you, I hate you… I hate you!"
He then stared over at his father with a cold look in his eyes. "You think I'm pitiful enough to leave this family over a few books that have been taken from me...? I was fantasising about leaving this family for so long. It is you who made me resort to this. It's you who ignored me. It's you who made me look after the twins. You don't notice me. You don't believe me. You don't even like me. Please forgive me for thinking that I had a better chance of survival outside of the constraints of what you people have offered me!"
Normally, he'd feel some sort of pride for using an extensive amount of the vocabulary that he'd gotten from reading so much and practicing so much but he didn't care. Every word he said made him feel like he had less air in his lungs and more heaviness in his heart. It hurt so bad to try and explain things that probably meant nothing at all to the two men that were standing beside him.
Percy then stared at Arthur with a fire in his eyes. "I hate everyone and everything. Don't lie to me and tell me that you care for me. If you cared, then I wouldn't have to question whether or not you do not so many times. I have been polite in asking. I have begged, and you do not listen. I have spent months practicing on my writing and my vocabulary, only to be shunned consistently by the people that should have loved me. I receive no praise, or acknowledgement. I'm just a free babysitter to you!"
He looked over at Lucius Malfoy, whom was grinning like an idiot.
"And you," Percy glared over at the white-haired male. "I am a fool to believe any word that comes out of your lips. You are a pathological liar. You aren't giving me a thing."
He threw away his bag. He didn't think he could mentally take eating his mother's food. Obviously, his father didn't care if he was dead or alive, considering the first thing he questioned was why Percy was holding a bunch of files. Percy's eyes flickered around. He knew the path that took him to the forest, but then there was the path that led to Stoatshead Hill. It was surrounded by an immense fog that he could disappear there rather instantly.
"You really are a smart little cretin, aren't you?" Lucius called out coldly.
Percy stared back at him. "And a common thief," he said, before immediately grabbing Lucius' wand from its place and running off towards the direction of the hill.
He knew that it was wrong. He stole from Alec Lestrange. He stole from his father, and now, he stole from Lucius Malfoy but he had to. All he wanted to do was leave his house and it was proving difficult to run away in the wizarding community. All they wanted to do was track him down and tell him they cared about him (absolute lies! They cared about him but they got rid of his things immediately after his 'death?' Pathetic!).
The fog was at its heaviest. He couldn't tell what was in front of him or behind him.
Once he was truly in the fog, he felt a sense of security fill his very bones. Despite his limp, he was able to walk and even run at a steady pace. The only difference was the pain he got shortly during and immediately after he walked at a pace his body didn't accept or when he ran. He leaned down and placed his hand on his injured leg. He tore off a sec of the bandage and saw white fluid secreting out of his wound.
"Percy!" he heard the sound of his father screaming. "Percival!"
The anguish seemed to intensify. The white fluid was hot. Percy had tears spilling from his eyes. He was so, so tired of this. He just wanted to submit to everything. He didn't care anymore. This was too tiring.
Percy curled up beside a large boulder.
"There you are, Percy… Percy…" Arthur picked up his son from the ground, and pulled him into his arms. Percy felt so sick, knowing that he went through hell and back just to end up in the same place again. 'Home.'
Arthur pulled his son into his arms tightly, and buried his head into Percy's shoulder. "My child, my son…"
The man was quaking, quivering, and laughing as he kept Percy close to him. "Dear Merlin, you're so light."
Malfoy seemed angry as he stomped towards their direction. Lucius reminded him of Draco in that moment – irrationally angry; a sore loser. He snatched the wand from Percy's hands.
"Lock up that abomination of yours before he harms someone," Lucius snapped, before disapparating.
Abomination. That was what he was. He had heard it so often nowadays, day in and day out with the Malfoy's – weasel, numbskull, mutation, fool, brainless, atypical, abnormality, anomaly… that thing. It. After a few seconds of being dormant, Percy fought through his father's grip but the man, whilst he didn't look strong, was able to keep Percy secured in his arms throughout their journey back to the Burrow.
"Shh… Percy, stop," Arthur said, his voice soft. "Calm down, please."
"Let me go!" Percy exclaimed, his voice high and emotional.
Dawn was breaking, and Percy felt very sick. He also felt extremely tired and sleepy. He tried to fight his father's grip, but eventually he just gave in. He buried his head in the crook of his father's neck and he cried. He didn't understand why he was being punished like this. He didn't want to go home!
"It's going to be okay," the man said soothingly, placing his hand on the back of Percy's neck as if he was a small, newborn child.
Percy's voice was soft as well. "Just let me go… please, let me go," he mumbled sleepily.
Percy didn't want to fall asleep just yet. He wanted to stay wide away just in case he'd be able to escape.
"I don't want to go home," Percy mumbled unhappily, as Arthur's grip around his son tightened. "I don't want to go home. I hate that house… I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"
Arthur did not loosen his grip. He simply stared at his son with a sad expression. "Calm down, Percival."
"Let me go!" Percy exclaimed, kicking his feet up in the air. "Let go of me! I hate you! I hate you!"
PERCY realised it was over when they walked through that door.
"Home sweet home," Arthur mused to himself, as they walked up the stairs.
Bill was still peacefully asleep, unaware of the happenings of the night. The house was still and there was no sound but the sound of the clock that was swaying in motion. Percy just gave up instantly then, his body no longer fitful or trying to rebel against his father's wishes. This was it. He was going to get into so much trouble when he woke up from his sleep and everyone would hate him. He would not get anymore new books. He would not be taken care of at all anymore. He was going to stay in this miserable life until he was of age, and then he could leave just as he wanted.
Arthur brought Percy back to his room, where Molly was yawning and turning to her side.
Percy would not lie. He wanted to cry out to his mother, and to say that he didn't mean to leave her. He meant to leave the rest of them, but he kept his lips still.
"There," Arthur breathed out, lying Percy on the empty side of the bed. "Safe and sound."
Percy stared back at the man with a dark expression. He took off his old, ugly shoes in defeat. He shed the clothing that Narcissa had gotten him and watched his father wince in distaste at the dark blue and purple bruising that covered Percy's body from head-to-toe. The bruising did not matter though – the pain of his leg distracted Percy from every other small injury inflicted on his body… nothing mattered but the pain in his leg.
Arthur disappeared for a few moments and returned back with one of the twins' pyjamas. Percy knew they were the twins' pyjamas because he took care of them before he tried to run away (and he failed at that too. He failed at everything). Percy grabbed the dark blue pyjamas and wore them. It was nice to be in those big, roomy clothing again after he'd been in those terribly clothing that Narcissa had bought for him.
Percy pulled up his pant leg to show the man the gash again, and Arthur seemed to cringe. Percy traced his finger along where the white liquid was pouring out… painfully. It stung.
"Sleep first," Arthur insisted, rubbing his hand down Percy's shoulder. "We'll deal with that tomorrow."
Percy opened his mouth to protest (it hurt so bad), but then he realised he had no right to complain. He ran away, and this was all his fault. He turned to his side.
"It's over, Percival," Arthur slipped in the bed, wrapping his arms around his son's frame. "Go to sleep."
AT six in the morning, Bill found himself trudging around the house in frustration. He honestly didn't know what came over him last night! He was supposed to sit down on the couch for a few minutes because he was a little dizzy despite him eating more than his share of custard and cake. His friends owled him and Bill had planned to play Exploding Snap with them. However, the minute he sat down on the couch, he fell into a slumber so deep and dreamless that he'd felt like he'd been asleep for days when he'd woken up. He didn't wake up for seventeen bleeding hours. It was uncanny. For a few days, the Weasley family clock had Bill's handle stuck at Mortal Peril because he'd happened to skip a few days of sleep.
He was about to chuck the clock in the fireplace last night. Floo it to Malfoy just for a bit of a laugh.
Bill sighed deeply, running his hand through his unusually scruffy hair. He remembered the last time he had such an aversion to sleep. It was because his mum kept on threatening to tear off his earring in his sleep. He didn't understand why she hated his earring so bad. She wore earrings all the bloody time... Ascending upstairs, he decided to peer into his parent's room to see if they were awake. Noticing that they were both asleep, Bill was about to leave until he realised that nestled between them was a sleeping Percy.
Rubbing his eyes, a sceptical Bill wandered over to Charlie's room. Oh, Charlie was actually awake for the first time in days and there seemed to be no vials of Draught of Sleep in his room.
Bill then asked, "Do you happen to know how many bottles of firewhiskey I drank last night?"