i've tweaked a little in this chapter. there was some wording i preferred not to use. i have to say this version in much more tolerable.
responses to any inquiries made in last chapter:
WolfSpirit1992: thus far, i'm at around Chapter 25 and tweaking/editing/re-writing meticulously, but Percy and Marcus haven't had much of an interaction or a closed off scene on their own as of yet, but i'm definitely planning some form of it at some point. you're right about Marcus being the type to be very defensive. i think the next few chapters are literally there to drive that point across. in fact, it's practically hammered in this piece of writing. interestingly enough, when i initially wrote/planned the scene the first time around, i did plan on Marcus and Percy forming a closer friendship but these characters have a mind of their own and something entirely unplanned was produced. i actually had to re-write a lot from the original script because the plot went into a different direction than i had first anticipated. in fact, i've about 60 pages of events that i have to re-write because it diverged far from what i planned initially towards Marcus' abuse plotline.
Phoenixx Rising: yes! i'm glad you noticed that he didn't even mention them as friends until this. as for that blush, it's more of an innocent reaction catching yourself staring at someone after you've just compared them to someone you didn't want to compare them to, i.e. Adrian to Snape. speaking of which...
to mention as a GENERAL NOTE REGARDING PAIRINGS in this fanfic, as the plot i have planned and the events that occur are complicated enough on their own without having to throw in a pairing. there might be unintentional slashy undertones (though that's hard to avoid considering if you squint hard enough, you can find slash anywhere), but i don't have plans for a full-fledged slash. if i do any pairings, they are more likely to be canon pairings (i.e. Penelope/Percy or more likely since it's more canon, Percy/Audrey) if it comes to that because it'll flow more smoothly with the plotline, i.e. there's none of the "have to come to terms with sexuality" madness that will just make this fanfic more complicated than intended. it is possible that there will be no pairings, specifically because although i did not introduce Audrey yet, there's about a 6 year gap between Audrey and Percy, with Audrey being older, in this fanfiction. this actually makes her as old as Bill. the age difference serves a purpose. another thing to note is that i am not sure how long i am making this fanfic, but the longer it is, the higher the chance that there will be a pairing.
Chapter Nineteen
"That's impossible," Terence Higgs decided that early Sunday morning, as he piled on eggs on his plate, still traumatised from last night's pre-dinner encounter with Marcus. In fact, they were all some sort of variation of stunned—Percy was stunned silent, Miles was stunned from shock and Adrian was stunned in horror. Terence was so stunned that his whole body was numb. "Marcus can't look like that. Marcus can't. Nobody looks like that without a reason. It can't be natural. Nobody naturally looks like they're going to fall over and die any second. They can't, especially not Marcus. Especially not him."
Terence and the others had been sitting in the Great Hall that morning, eating an eight o'clock breakfast. Marcus was nowhere to be seen considering his aversion to waking up before noon on the weekends.
"Listen," Percy Weasley suddenly called out, his voice down an octave as he buttered a bread roll. "I have procured some unpleasant information related to Marcus that I am trying not to think about, but it is extremely important and thus, I'm inclined to share..."
Percy put down his buttered roll, reaching for a jar of apricot jam. Terence wrinkled his nose, because who in the right mind would eat apricot jam? "Charlie told me that Marcus' father uses physical force on him and from what I've heard, Marcus has confirmed it but insisted that nobody intervenes into his family life. If Marcus' father did indeed use physical force on him, then I don't think it's far from implying that he might have indulged in other means of child abuse, such as..."
"Starving him," Adrian mumbled, shaking his head and sinking down in his chair.
Terence could remember sitting in a compartment with Marcus for the whole of the ride to Hogwarts. Terence remembered nudging a bag of peanuts to him, and Marcus seemed to be in such a foul mood that he'd kept on threatening to cause Terence an oesophageal obstruction if he didn't stop. He remembered practically having to force down a few bits of almonds down Marcus' throat and even then, Terence didn't think he got more than eight. He remembered thinking that Marcus barely ate for 'someone his size' but he pushed it away. He pushed it away because if Marcus really was eating so little, he'd look more like Adrian or Percy did. In fact, Terence remembered how scraggy Percy was when he'd first come round Hogwarts, but now, he'd seemed to have put on enough that he looked just about Adrian's frame. It was a little uncanny too how slender they were, because they both ate enough for the whole Slytherin table.
Last time Terence seen them in the Great Hall, they'd eat inhaled so many potatoes that Miles concluded that they were probably the source of the Great Irish famine. Terence thought that he maybe ate a bit too much, but it was nothing compared to those two lunatics, scoffing enough carbohydrates to prepare themselves for prolonged hibernation. He was pretty sure he once found Adrian and Percy in the commons, gripping their stomachs tightly after consuming a bad batch of caramel candy.
"I was going to wake Marcus up, you know," Adrian broke Terence out of his re-visualisation of Percy and Adrian sharing a bin and hacking up an intense amount of vomit... Terence was still hungry for his delectable bacon butty. "Drag him down to the Great Hall with me so he could eat something before he bloody well collapses and dies, but Merlin, I'd have better luck waking up the dead."
Miles was poking at his poached egg. "What are we supposed to do now?"
He looked up, green eyes eerily frightened and lacking any humour. "I don't know about you blokes, but I'm considering nailing him down in his bed so that he won't go back home. Merlin knows that that's the only way to do it instead of trying to knock some sense into Marcus' big, fat head."
"It's none of your bloody business," a voice called out from behind Miles, making Terence's heart stop.
Terence looked up to see Marcus looking colder than usual. How could someone that looked so sturdy and brawly with their clothing on look so emaciated with it off? It really perplexed Terence, but also frightened him. Before Marcus even got a chance to sit down, everyone else seemed to have shoved their plates towards Marcus, whom just raised an eyebrow.
"I can get food by myself, mum," Marcus mocked, grabbing a mug which spontaneously filled with tea. He added a cube of sugar, stirring it in aggressively.
Suddenly, Terence thought of Marcus' mother. He'd met her before. She was short, curvy, and had large... err... those. She was attractive enough that he swore that Adrian was once gawking at her, large glossy eyes and all. Gross. She would have known that Marcus' father was doing this to him, right? She would've stopped it, right? It couldn't be true. It just... Marcus didn't actually look like that...
"Cut it out, Flint," Miles sounded suddenly highly furious. "We know. About what your father does to you, so cut out the dragon dung so we can talk about this. I'm not scared of you anymore. Hell, I'm scared of Terence more than I'm scared of you right about now. You're so bloody pathetic that you can't keep your bloody self warm. Now, let us help you before you end up killing yourself in the process."
"Shut up before you say something you'll regret, Bletchley," Marcus warned smoothly, his voice ran like honey. He didn't even look the least bit enthralled yet, which Terence thought was surprising since usually, Marcus got extremely angry over much smaller things.
Miles stared at Marcus with a raised eyebrow. "I regret not noticing any sooner. We've been mates forever. It took Percy Weasley to tell us that your father—"
Marcus glanced back up at Percy with a cold expression. "So, it was you, Weasel?"
"You had bruises on your neck. Shaped like fingers," Percy suddenly mentioned, and that thought made Terence's heart sink. Did Marcus really have those? How come Terence had never noticed that? The redhead closed his eyes. "What else was I supposed to do? I was worried for you and I don't regret that I've told them either. You need this intervention. You need help. It's—"
"None of your bloody business!" Marcus called out breathlessly, eyes darkening with every word that left his mouth. "He's my father. They are my bruises. This is my body. It is my bloody life. Don't involve yourself where you don't belong—"
"We are your mates," Terence interjected all of a sudden at Marcus' flawed logic. "We—"
Marcus had been squeezing the mug of tea in his hands so harshly that it just broke, smashing into a thousand little pieces in his hands. Marcus hissed out in pain when the hot liquid hit his thigh, and his hands were cut with little red cuts. "It's none of your business!" he slammed his fist into the table, his chest rising and falling dramatically with the intensity of his gaze.
"We—" Adrian was cut off by Marcus.
"I'm going back to bed," Marcus flicked his wand and muttering a Tergeo, clearing the pool of liquid on the table when really, he should've been applying a cooling charm to his thigh, which was no doubt red and swollen from where the liquid had hit it. He stood up immediately afterwards, storming out of the Great Hall, but not before flickering his direction over at Oliver Wood and hexing him.
Miles didn't even laugh as usual when Oliver Wood screamed in fury over being covered in all kinds of boils and acne. He must've been upset, because Oliver looked in near pain from the amount of skin blemishes covering his body and face.
"Flint!" Snape's voice rang across the room. "Detention on top of your other detentions!"
"Good," Miles muttered in annoyance, before he grabbed a cheese and tomato toastie. He took a bite, and then said, "I say we owl my dad. He's an Auror and get Marcus' father under jurisdiction because I don't care what Marcus says. I don't care how much he hates me. That arsehole is not getting away with hurting Marcus, even if it'll take all of bloody Britain to get Marcus to admit he might need help."
Terence's respect for Miles just went up a few notches. He found himself brewing a mug of tea for himself.
Percy Weasley raised his eyebrow and smirked, "I'll write the official letter to send, mentioning the exact Ministry codes that Marcus' father is violating."
Terence immediately jumped into the conversation, knowing he had something else to contribute. "I'll drag him to Pomfrey in the morning and get her to have a good look at him. Maybe she could write something to confirm that Marcus' dad might be hitting him or something like that. She could also give him some sort of nutritional advice so he could put on a few bloody stones..."
"We could send that along with the letters that Miles and Percy will write up," Adrian tied it all up.
Terence snorted. "That's a lot of parchment, but hey, it's all official and nifty. I like it. This could work."
"Better than the other plan I had in mind," Miles muttered to himself, and then let himself smile a humourless smile. "I was going to hit him with a Beater's bat until I knock some sense into him. You know, out of love."
Percy rolled his eyes and then dryly commented, "I'm sure that if Marcus ever ends up presenting to St Mungo's with a bleed in his brain, it'll be because you love him so much."
Terence had been eyeing Percy intensely. Why was he even there?
"Why do you talk like that if you're eleven?"
What eleven-year-old talked about bleeding into the brain as a consequence of a being beat with a bat? What eleven-year-old talked like they knew everything about the whole world? How did Percy even know half the things that he did or speak the way that he did? It was abnormal, because no eleven-year-old talked like this.
In fact, Terence was sure that this was Percy's toffee-nosed way of proving that he was better than them...which Terence didn't appreciate.
Percy's cheeks coloured in deeply. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."
A shiver went down Terence's spine, and he instantly changed the subject. "You still talk like you're an old man instead of a child. I mean, sure, I think we all—well, Adrian, Miles, Marcus and I—have had those aristocratic parents that get you used to saying big and fancy words to describe normal things so you sound smarter than you actually are, but you're just... you talk like this all the time, and it's annoying. Because eleven-year-olds don't talk like this. Nobody talks like this... except maybe Lucius Malfoy and I think he just uses them because he likes to hear himself talk."
Way to single him out. Adrian, Miles, Marcus and I.
"I talk like this," Percy insisted. He didn't sound offended. He took another roll and buttering it heavily. "If you want to say I'm annoying you, then you could just say it without having to run around in circles. I could leave too, you know, but I thought that it's best not to start a squabble when Marcus just fled the scene in a dramatic fashion."
Marcus. Terence flicked his thoughts back to yesterday. Marcus seemed like the poster child for those children that had left You-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's dungeons, starved, frail and scared. Those children they kept in the ads of Pixie Puffs, insisting that every box the house would buy would benefit these starving children. Terence used to smile at the thought that maybe those children were eating Pixie Puffs that morning too. Maybe even with milk. How could Marcus, one of his best mates since they were young, look like one of those children without anyone noticing? Marcus was just always Marcus. He was not one of those children that they locked up in shelter homes that tried to offer the best they could for children that were abused or neglected during the war. How could Marcus be one of them? This was the same boy that had insisted that cheated on every bloody game of Quidditch and Exploding Snap that Terence had ever played with him, the very same one that sat outside the common rooms as he rumbled papers with badly written essays and the very same one that used to tear him out of bed late at night, telling stories in poor attempts of scaring Terence enough that he couldn't return back to sleep.
"I happen to like it," Adrian interjected. By then, Terence had noticed that Miles was back to grinning that smile that told them that he was thinking of something mischievous, offending or dirty. "Stop whining, Terence. You're just pissed about Marcus and are trying to put it on Percy, and shouldn't because he's only been in our little circle for a little while and he was the one that noticed that—that thing that's been happening for years that we didn't."
Terence looked away from Adrian for a few seconds. He didn't even know it was true until Adrian said it like that. Truth was he was more than just a little jealous of Percy Weasley...
ADRIAN was leaning against Percy, trying not to fall asleep as Percy went through the hand movements for their charms. Adrian really was trying his bed not to fall asleep, but there were so many ways he could perfect his Tergeo and Scourgify. Percy's Tergeo was so precisely put together that Percy even knew how many millimetres of fluid his spell managed to siphon off. Suddenly, he felt a hand prodding at his side, and looked up to Percy's face, who was now only inches away from him and looking exhausted himself.
"Adrian, you're falling asleep," Percy mentioned in annoyance. "Again."
Adrian looked up from Percy's shoulder and offered a sheepish smile. "Is it over?" he suddenly asked, before he looked over at Percy's neat and concise scrawl. He noticed that they hadn't even gone through a fifth of the workload yet, and groaned.
"Percy, please," he begged. "Come on, let's do something else. Let's—um, I'll share my chocolate frogs with you. I'll even let you keep the collectable cards."
"We haven't gotten through a fifth of this material," Percy commented, sounding highly annoyed before his face softened dramatically and he allowed himself to smile. "Do you have the white chocolate kind?"
Adrian nodded his head wildly. "I hoard them for you, mate. I think you're the only one that likes them."
Percy rolled his head as Adrian offered him one of the chocolate frog boxes that he had lying around. He should really stop keeping his chocolate frogs lying around his bag. Shrinking charm or not, it was just not a good idea. A few days ago, his bag dropped and all of the boxes open. He had about twenty different chocolate frogs assaulting portraits. For three whole days, he couldn't enter the Slytherin commons because that damned portrait was still sour about frogs hopping about their portrait.
Adrian was a messy eater. Within seconds, his frog ended up being all over his cheeks and chin. Percy took measured and nearly accurate bites, so much so that Adrian could barely describe what Percy was doing as eating. Was he enjoying the food or just putting something into his mouth just because? Adrian always wondered because Percy didn't look like he gained any amusement from whatever he was eating.
Adrian's mind was rattling. "We've been mates for a while now, but I've never asked you about what happened when you ran off. I mean—I know you completely shattered your leg in the process, but I don't know how and I'm pretty curious about the whole thing. Entertain me."
Percy looked like he was assessing something in his mind, probably to tell or not to.
"Do you know that Ravenclaw, Penelope Clearwater?" Percy suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow.
Adrian tried to recall her. Oh, yes. He could see her clearly now. A bit of a chubby little girl with growing blonde hair—he'd heard great stories about the Clearwater hair, the hair that cascaded down into a golden waterfall. Pity that it was completely ruined now, and it looked like Penelope didn't seem to take care of it like Adrian did. He'd seen her between classes, once or twice, struggling with how many books she was holding. Her friends looked like they'd wanted to help, if only they weren't carrying as big of a load in their arms as they'd hurried over to their Potions class.
"Yes," Adrian commented finally.
Percy looked down at the frog; Percy had broken off a good part of its eye and was chewing it avidly. He swallowed before he said, "I think I saved her life."
"Think?" Adrian repeated. Normally, he'd barely believe these sorts of tales, but that was with people like Marcus, whom already over-exaggerated. Percy did over-exaggerate as well, but not about personal accomplishments as much as he did how well he could transfigure a pot into a pig. "I'm sorry. How in Merlin's name did you save her—?"
Percy cut him off to explain, "She was in the woods near my house. Lestrange was about to attack her. He was unarmed and had left his wand aside. I happened to pick it up and I happened to remember a few spells. We ran for safety, and my family seemed to cross my path then. After that, we encountered a manticore that seemed to think that he was very funny. Penelope was, yet again, unharmed. I ran before Bill and Charlie could take me back home, and procured this large gash on my leg. Instead of doing the practical thing and ending this wild goose chase, I continued to run with an injured leg. This, of course, exacerbated it to the point where I was taken to the hospital. I left the hospital to avoid a confrontation with my family, and stumbled upon a portkey that took me to muggle Brighton, where I was found by Lucius Malfoy."
Somehow, he'd said all of this under a breath and paused only for a millisecond before he continued, "Malfoy took me to be treated in exchange for information and taken the potions that I stole from Alec Lestrange, that—well, I forgot to tell you but when I did get that man into a bind, I did steal his things. It was highly impractical but I've seemed to be good at it. Stealing—anyway, he promised me back my things in exchange I steal something from my own father, so I attempted to. It didn't go very well and I ended up back home, and now, here we are."
It took Adrian more than a few minutes to let the story sink into his head. Did any of this really happen? Percy's facial expressions didn't even twitch as he told the story, and there was no incredulous looks or laughter. Adrian did not know why, but he did believe him.
He believed the redheaded boy that was sitting beside him, as they ate chocolate frogs together.
"I heard once," Adrian began after a silence seemed to encompass the room, "that Alec Lestrange trains manticores to their bidding using different potions. Some of them stay loyal to him and others ward off and become insane. It's kind of funny."
It kind of wasn't funny at all, but Adrian didn't know what to say.
Percy nodded his head. "I suppose," he placed a hand on his knee.
"Does it still hurt?" Adrian suddenly asked, staring at the way that Percy had bent his leg. It seemed unnatural and he didn't seem to be flinching. Was this a position he took on to make the pain better, or did he bend his leg this unnaturally because no matter how he bent his leg, he was going to be in immense pain?
"Yes," Percy replied quickly, staring down at his dodgy leg. "Some days more than others."
Adrian swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly nodded his head.
He wanted to ask more, but Percy didn't seem to be the kind to talk about what happened. Percy was implying that he saved a Ravenclaw from the midst of serious, life-threatening distress. He had implied that he met one of the Ministry's most perilous wizards and hadn't painted him in the prettiest picture either. He had implied that he'd bypassed a manticore. All of this sounded ludicrous, but Adrian had not seen Percy as a liar. He was not the kind to exaggerate any non-academic accomplishments, and having have seen his long, thick and poorly healed gash, all Adrian could think about was that perhaps, Percy wasn't lying at all. There was a certain maturity in his eyes that would be explained by the things that he'd gone through.
Besides, Adrian wasn't fooled. Percy was a Weasley. Weasley's—those bleeding Gryffindor lunatics! His mum had told him that once, at a funeral, they just happened to 'lose' the body? They'd accidentally portkeyed the body all the way to San Francisco, and had a hard time retrieving it? Apparently, this was not an unusual recurrence. Apparently, this toffee-nosed Weasley relative named Muriel turned to his mum and said, "This is the fifth time this year this has happened!" Adrian shuddered just at the thought of it.
"How long have you known the lot? Terence, Miles, Marcus?" Percy expressed, raising an eyebrow.
Adrian's cheeks coloured in. "Since we were little. We met by accident at one of the big old balls that the Malfoy's liked to throw, so we went there. We were supposed to stay quiet, so we quietly snuck down to the kitchen late at night. I've never eaten so much in my life."
Percy shuddered. "Even taken into account how many potatoes we've had between us that night?"
Adrian's cheeks reddened even more extensively, so much so that they were now beetroot red. "Merlin, you should've seen the look on your brother's face when we were wobbling around, drunk off jacket potatoes. How many did you have? What was it? We had fourteen between us, didn't we? That night was brilliant, you know, before the grand upchucking happened..."
Percy glared. "I still haven't gotten the smudges out of my school robes mind you. And the caramels too..."
"It's not our fault that we hadn't eaten all bloody day," Adrian insisted, shaking his head and letting small tendrils of jet black hair come in front of his eyes. They'd been busy with something that Adrian couldn't recall, but busy enough that they hadn't had more than half a cup of butterbeer between them for some time. "And yes, I had even more than that."
"You ate more and you didn't implode?" Percy raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on Adrian's wrist. Their long, thin arms against each other – nearly identical in height. "I think I might have to take you down to St Mungo's and have them run all kinds of tests. Merlin knows what kind of metabolism you must have if you're going to eat as much as three giants and still look like an Inferius."
Adrian found this funny for several reasons. "You eat like me."
"I do not eat—" a sudden realisation seemed to hit Percy's head, and his ears had all but gone red.
"We share food, remember? Everything—including fourteen jacket potatoes," Adrian muttered, poking at Percy's flat stomach."I think you've put on a few pounds."
Percy rolled his eyes. "Ah, yes, I'm the epitome of obesity."
When did he get to the point where he and Percy shared food? When did he get to the point where he accepted that wherever Percy said was true, no matter how unrealistic that it was? Adrian muttered a Tergeo under his breath, siphoning a small amount of white chocolate around Percy's mouth. Adrian was surprised to see that his Tergeo didn't cause Percy to be landed into St Mungo's. Last time he tried to clean something off someone's face with a cleaning spell, he'd somehow ended up 'cleaning' a blood vessel. Adrian was just glad he didn't accidentally give Miles a stroke.
What would he tell his mum then?