was i supposed to post this days ago? like 3-4? yes. i just became somewhat lazy.

warnings: solation, imprisonment, physical and mental abuse - some described in great detail, some only hinted, unlawful discrimination and God knows what else i decide to put in last minute... that 'God know what else i decide to put in last minute' includes suicidal ideation (possibly an attempt may it be successful or not later on) and mentions/possible illustrations of self-harm.

self-harm is mentioned here, but there is no graphic description. the owlery scene is one of my favourites. i absolutely love it.

oh my God, Harry Potter... (somehow) mentioned in a Harry Potter fanfic? it's the end of the world as we know it!

replies to any inquiries posed:

LittlebigmouthOKC: i actually really liked your comment. i don't know why but it does make sense. honestly, i'm not sure how Arthur/Percy's relationship would grow eventually or if Arthur changes at some point completely but it's definitely been hectic to say the least!

Chapter Thirty-Three

The morning didn't start off well for Molly Weasley. She was just cleaning Percy's bedroom because she hadn't this summer since he'd been at home (though he was doing a fine job of maintaining it himself. Barely anything to clean) and found four empty discs in Percy's bin that sent her in hysterics.

"Four tins of it?" Charlie rubbed his arm with a quick glance back towards Percy outside. "Blimey, what's he been doing with four bloody tins of Paisley and Holland's Extremely Effective Scar Remover over the last month?"

Molly picked up a second-hand cauldron and gave it to Charlie to hold.

"Maybe..." Molly paused, feeling her heart sink into her chest as she turned her head back to look at the see-through shop windows. Just outside of the shop, Percy was sat down on one of the benches, legs crossed in a startling, upsetting manner (how did he manage to cross his legs like that without both of his legs giving away?). "Maybe he's just scraped himself a few times in the hospital is all. He was working with children."

Charlie simply shook his head. "Mum..." his voice was quieter now. "Have you ever thought that—?"

"Yes?" Molly said, as she surveyed the second-hand shop for anything else that she could buy for Ron.

They'd already given Ron a few of Percy's old robes, hats, gloves and cloaks. The gloves were a little too tight but nothing an enlargement charm couldn't fix. The robes were a little long on Ron's diminutive frame, but the healers said he'd be just as tall—or taller—than Bill, Arthur and Percy so Molly kept her fingers crossed and just hoped that he'd just grow into them soon enough. She didn't want to try a severing charm because last she'd tried that on a robe, it ended up in tatters. Charlie and Bill rummaged through the whole Burrow, trying to find their old books to give to Ron considering Percy had a disquieting grip towards any book he'd ever received. Percy had a lewd fear of giving away a book and finding himself in a situation where he needed to use it. Percy wouldn't have it when Bill and Charlie told him that he didn't need some of the books he had at all. This just added on to the list of worrying behaviour that Molly saw from Percy.

With books and clothing aside, they'd bought him a second-hand cauldron and a few glass phials and brass scales that Percy insisted shouldn't be second-hand (apparently, these were a threat to Ron's safety). Charlie was giving Ron his telescope since for some reason that Bill refrained from explaining, he was still using his.

"Mum," Charlie's voice was very stern. "Remember when I sent you a few pictures of this lass over at the Reserve, right? And you asked me why her arm was so bloody mutilated—well, you said it in a nicer way but you get the gist of it, right?—and I said that she used to hack her skin off with a kitchen knife on purpose?"

Molly slowly nodded her head, her stomach sinking. She didn't like where this was going.

"Charlie, are you suggesting that Percy...?" Molly looked over at the window, eyes on the bench.

She saw Ron walk up to Percy, carrying a huge thing of ice-cream, which was just about to burst from the extensive amount of toppings on it—was that a whole cauldron cake in place of an ice-cream cup? Ron sat beside his older brother and started to demolish it. Molly had been in such a hurry that early morn they'd all forgotten their wands back at home. Ron had even forgotten to wear shoes, so Percy had lent him those ugly, old plimsolls, which slipped off his little eleven-year-old feet ever so often. Thus, Percy was sitting on the bench, clad in a pair of deep brown pants and a caramel-coloured shirt... and on his feet were Charlie's yellow-and-black Wimbourne Wasps socks that looked so strikingly out of place that it amused Bill and Charlie greatly. Bill lazily followed Ron afterwards, a pleased look speckled across his freckled features.

Molly stared over at her tall, thin sons, gripping tightly onto a grimly old box. "No, Charlie... No."

"Bill says he thinks Percy's given his leg a whack on purpose once," Charlie suddenly said. She felt her heart do a somersault before bile started to rise in her scratchy throat. "Mum, it makes sense. He's always wearing those long sleeves. Most of the time, every bloody inch of him is covered. If he's been hurting himself, then trying to cover it up by using what's in those tins... well, I wouldn't put it past him."

"Let's just go pay for these," Molly said, trying to recover from the images floating around in her head.

"Mum, I—"

"I mean it, Charles," a frustrated Molly stated, looking exasperated. "Let's go pay for these NOW."

Molly could barely pull out the few sickles that she needed for the cauldron before they left the second-hand store. By then, all three of them were sitting down. Bill was whistling and gently cocking his head from side to side. Ron managed to finish most of his ice-cream and Percy was still sitting with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs crossed in—in that abhorrent position. How could Percy even cross his leg like that? For Salazar's sake, didn't his bones have anything to say about it?

"Percy, show me your arms," Molly immediately said, before thrusting the bag towards a nervy Charlie.

"What?" Percy looked up, looking a mixture of confounded and irritated.

"Never mind, Percy. We'll do it at home," Molly was obviously not in her best mood, as she sighed deeply. She ran her hand through her frazzled vivacious red hair. "You'll strip down in once we've turned in, alright? Let your mum have a look at you."

"I am not stripping down in front of my own mother!" Percy called out. Ron looked like he was about to double over with laughter, and he'd definitely earned a few snickers and glances from those passing by. "I'd rather be cursed by an Unforgivable and be done with! What's brought this up anyway, right? Why do you have to have me down to my skivvies?"

"Oh, love, when I said strip down, I mean your underpants as well," Molly said coolly, only for him to stare at her with a flabbergasted expression. For a few seconds, the only thing that broke the silence was Ron's guffawing. It felt like any second now, a stream of ice-cream, brownies and cauldron cake was going to scarper from every one of his orifices from how intensely he was laughing.

"Mum, Percy mightn't be right in the head. I agree with that assessment," Charlie leaned slightly down and said, in an extremely soft voice, "but he's not that much of a loony."

"Charlie!" Molly exclaimed hotly. "Fine, you can keep them on, but the rest is off and I'll hear no more of it."

AS THEY walked down towards the end of the street, Molly paused and told Charlie and Ron to stay outside whilst she and Percy went into Eeylops Owl Emporium.

Yesterday when Arthur came back home and told her Percy didn't get himself a gift, she felt her blood pressure rising... she refused to accept this-this rubbish!

Molly had a talk with Arthur last night, and they'd both agreed that they'd get Percy any owl he wanted since he'd been made prefect. She'd remembered that she did promise Percy that when she'd gotten paid by Arthur for their harmless little wager, she was going to buy him whatever he wanted. Molly had no idea what that was, and she was sure if she'd toured through the whole of Diagon Alley, she'd probably not find anything that would catch his interest just like last time... but still, Molly saw the deep affection Percy had for Scabbers! If he'd be so smitten about an ugly, old rat he rescued from a few planks of filthy wood, then surely, he'd be bloody ecstatic to get an owl then, wouldn't he?

Molly remembered the first time that Bill got his owl; he was absolutely in love with her!

Funny thing was that Bill hated all animals and didn't even find a particular liking towards owls even growing up, but for the first few days that he'd gotten one, he wouldn't stop messing about with her.

She opened the door to Eeylops Owl Emporium, only to hear that awful ruckus. Molly shouldn't have been surprised though. It was an Owl Emporium after all. From all the times she'd been here, there'd always been that ear-shattering noise.

Molly walked inside along with Percy, peering around the cages herself. These were very nice-looking ones, these were! All the feathers intact, youthful and energetic—and noisy. Very noisy.

She saw a blonde employee try to advise to a few teenagers on which owl to buy. The screeching, hooting and bristling about was really doing her ears in—and then it suddenly stopped when Percy emerged into the centre of the room. Big blue eyes, framed by his horn-rimmed glasses, were lapping up the cages. His face remained restrained and dispassionate.

The blonde seemed so surprised at the sudden silence that she'd stopped speaking in the middle of her sentence. The bow-legged, dark-haired teenagers beside her also seemed wide-eyed and mystified as they stared over at Percy like he was about to Confringo the Emporium at any given moment.

Just before the blonde said anything, Molly timidly said, "My son's just got a special thing with animals."

"Special thing?" the blonde asked with a squeak. "He's not going to hurt any of them, is he?"

Molly gave her a glare that seemed to silence her. The glare melted in seconds, and was quickly followed by, "Merlin, I just hope he doesn't become a dragon tamer."

Percy tried to balance himself out, but failed immensely. He instantly grabbed a part of a cherry wood table, which immediately came apart at the seams and collapsed. A few cages collapsed and shattered, owls were freed from their second-hand pale cages; flying about haphazardly with alarm.

"Him a dragon tamer?" the blonde muttered, as she put the cages up near the closed window and mended them with a Reparo. "I'd believe that the minute that the Chudley Canons win the Quidditch World Cup."

Percy's cheeks coloured in deeply as one owl flew, settling on his shoulder.

"Oh, he could be a dragon tamer if he wants!" Molly exclaimed, trying to weakly defend Percy. It was then that she added on, "But I'd kill him if he even thinks..."

"Mum!" Percy exclaimed, the owl flying from Percy's shoulder. He flew in a way reminiscent of Errol. If Percy would do something as disgusting and inefficient as gambling, he'd bet that this owl—like Errol—dreaded the thought of having to send a letter to someone that was further than fifty feet away from him.

"It's true," Molly murmured. "Like I need you to have an excuse to buy more scar removing—"

Exacerbated, Percy, for some unholy reason, decided that it would be appropriate to tell his mum exactly why he'd been using Paisley and Holland's Extremely Effective Scar Remover for.

"Do you know why I've been buying those creams?" Percy suddenly spat out acerbically. This time, his mouth was definitely working faster than his head. "It's because I've got a scar planted on a very intimate part of me due to a sweet little hex. In her defence, no pain was involved... just the scarring. I was highly drunk and happened to mention a comment to Penelope that was—um, less than proper. In all sense, I deserved it but I've no idea why I can't get rid of that bloody thing. It's the size of a pumpkin pasty! Last I've had to undress in front of the boy's locker room in St Mungo's; they asked me if I was bitten during..."

Percy's cheeks were reddened by now, and all he could hear was strangers laughing gaudily.

The blonde picked up an anxious-looking owl that was shaking and placed it on her shoulder whilst she mended his cage.

"Oh stop it, please!" the blonde called out in mock shock from the corner as she opened up the cage to let the owl fly back in. Percy was attempting not to throw himself towards the nearest cliff to preserve the smallest shard of dignity he had left over in his unexciting frame. "I'm so intimidated by this great dragon tamer!"

Percy rolled his eyes, and then whistled loudly. The anxious, barmy-looking owl that was sat on her shoulder was so frightened at the sudden sound that he'd seemed to use her uniform as a lavatory.

She screeched.

"PERCY!" Molly exclaimed, looking appalled by his behaviour. She leaned forward to his ear, "You don't scare poor little owls like that... she's nearly had a heart attack!"

HIS name was Hermes, and he was Percy's new mate.

Percy's heart fluttered violently in his chest when he brought the pristine cage back home.

The immaculate confine had plenty of space for the owl to rummage round but Percy honestly couldn't wait to get him out of it. He barely tolerated putting Scabbers in his little black box, much preferring to place him in big pockets of his oversized jumpers or button-downs, which he'd often had to tuck into his tight trousers to make it seem like his button-downs were fit to measure. They were indeed fit to measure—for someone that was five stone heavier than Percy was.

Percy sighed in excitement when he'd placed the cage down and started to stroke the owl's soft feathers.

A part of him felt remorseful for pushing old Scabbers aside for this new pet, but Hermes was a gift.

Percy pulled Hermes out of his cage. He'd pulled out a small bag of owl treats he'd Reducio-ed to keep at his pocket. He performed an enlargement charm. The treats were so heavy that they nearly fell off Percy's weak hands. A flush flittered past his cheeks, as he struggled with opening the bag for a few moments. Giving up, Percy decided to call out a severing charm to open that-that contraption!

Merlin, these things smell almost as bad as a troll, Percy decided, scrunching his nose up. Or Fred and George.

Hermes moved closer to the thing of owl treats, and hooted.

After Percy decided that he'd rather be flung face-first into a roaring fire than hold one of those nasty little buggers, Percy used a levitating charm to place a little treat by the window. Hermes immediately gobbled it up before flapping his wings around in contentment.

Percy laughed in his own happiness, forgetting everything wrong that happened during that summer in less than a few minutes... well, that was until he remembered he told his mum he had a scarred knob.

PERCY ran his hand through his sweaty vibrant red curls. Well, the British heat was going to turn him into a poor constructed puddle in King's Cross station. He was given the task of looking after the twins—and Ron, whom would rather be looked over by a manky sock. Thus far, Percy had tugged at the clothes that Ron was wearing underneath, taken off a smear of hazelnut spread from his mouth, and took a cleaning charm to his shoes, which by Percy's standards were vile and rank. The twins snickered and Ron was just about ready to shed his human form and turn into a prefect-thirsty dragon.

His family went on to help some plonker that believed it odd not to have a ¾ in King's Cross.

Percy paid little attention to anything until he had to board the Hogwarts Express. Before he could thoroughly check the twins and Ron for possession of any hazardous substances, they seemed to run off and find themselves compartments.

Percy sighed to himself and thought he best start checking after these children to make sure that all of them were, in fact, intact and not causing much mischief and mayhem.

Peering into each and every compartment, a fifteen-year-old Percy found himself settle down when he realised that everything was in order. Nobody was frolicking about, causing havoc and distress.

The twins seemed to be invested in a conversation with Lee Jordan, plotting senselessly about which bloke they were going to torture at the start of this brimming year. Percy eavesdropped on their conversation from a distance to collect the necessary information he needed to tell them to stop torturing the student population. Oh, Percy would've broken up the conversation and warned them not to do anything too doltish, he really would've—but he wouldn't mind the year starting off with that wanker Pucey gallivanting about the Great Hall with an animated stuffed platypus running up and down his underpants... which just happened to be a pair of orange knickers (or so it would be when the twins were done with him).

During his round, Percy caught sight of Ron sitting beside that nameless black-haired plonker of a child that looked completely and utterly lost now, similarly to how he did on the King's Cross station. No doubt Ron's new friend was a muggleborn by the looks of things... at least that was Percy thought until he caught sight of that bloody lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

Congratulations, Percival, you thought The Boy Who Lived was 'a nameless black-haired plonker'.

It wasn't surprising that Ronald happened to befriend the wizarding world's hero in less than an hour. They were sharing enough sucrose-strewn sweeties to send a diabetic into a very acidotic condition. Percy patted his robe pocket, which was emptier than Roger Davies' big fat head. At least he didn't have to feel guilty about not having enough money to give to Ron to buy anything to eat on their way down to Hogwarts now, did he? Though now he was worried that his brother would pull his poor mate into a carbohydrate coma before they'd even gotten to Hogwarts. What would he tell his mum then? Ron fed Harry Potter to death with pumpkin pasties and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans? As if the Weasley's didn't have enough reputation as it was without them making the Boy Who Lived's blood thicker than cauldron cake batter!

Just as he was getting back to the Prefect compartment, he bumped into five-foot-ten weedy yet sinewy Oliver Wood. He was in Quidditch uniform for some reason.

"Head out of the clouds, Wood," Percy warned, only for Oliver to glower at him. "Off with the Quidditch robes. You are aware that you're supposed to be clothed in your normal school attire by the time we reach Hogwarts, so I suggest you do a quick swap of your clothing choices to avoid me having to dock points from Gryffindor before the school year's even started. Is that understood?"

Oliver's glare disappeared as he shrunk down and nodded his head. "Fine."

A sound of inharmonious laughter erupted through the train and Percy didn't have to turn around to know who the miscreants in question were.

"Oi, Wonder Weasel," cheers, Bletchley. In early mornings, Percy especially enjoyed being reminded that he was nothing more than his own genitalia according to these three tossers sat beside each other. Percy turned to have a look over at Miles Bletchley, a six-foot-two, blocky fellow whose shaggy, long blonde hair was shining so bright in the lit compartment that it reflected off Percy's horn-rimmed glasses. "How's your summer been? Chased around a few crummy old rats to adopt as mates, have ya?"

Percy offered a confident, self-assured smile.

"It was fine. Thank you for asking; Bletchley," Percy replied in a calm and collected tone of voice. He followed this by, "Unfortunately, I've not been able to find any rats this summer... though I suspect it's because they're all taken refuge in your mum's eatery—or so the reports say at the very least."

Miles seemed to keep the beaming smile glued on his face, but Percy knew that the comment unnerved him.

As for Percy, he'd heard so much worse (unfortunately, usually from his own family) than he wasn't even slightly wound up about Miles' pathetic attempt at unnerving him.

"You think you're so ruddy brilliant," Terence seemed to string himself along the conversation. He had grown to be exceedingly tall—at somewhere around six foot five, with his somewhere in between thin and average body type. "Seeing as you're a cripple, I'd advise you to watch your step."

"Got that out of the back of a Pixie Puffs box, did you?" Percy crossed his arms. "Ten points from Slytherin."

"That isn't fair!" Adrian shot up from where he was sitting. Percy had no idea why he'd done that, considering he wasn't intimidating – what with being the same height as Percy and weighing as much as a doxy egg. "GEMMA! Prissy took ten points from us for no reason! We aren't even in the bloody castle yet!"

Prissy. Percy rolled his eyes. It seemed to be everyone's favourite nickname for him these days!

"Ten additional points from Slytherin," Gemma said automatically, poking her head from the prefect compartment, curly brown hair flying in all directions. "I'm not deaf, you know. We can hear you four quarrelling from here! I know Quidditch commentators that are quieter than you lot!"

Wood stayed around, obviously enjoying the show before him as the train moved, when he should've been sat down in his compartment ages ago.

"But Gemma!" Terence called out, standing up from where he sat down. "The only reason you're being so callous is because last year, you shagged the weasel!"

Gemma and Percy's faces turned intensely red by this point.

Unfortunately, Percy wasn't very good at denying things that had actually happened. Terence was actually spot on with that comment, and he found himself storming off. He took a look back at Wood, who looked mildly amused as he finally decided to plonk that arse down a compartment. That smile faded, as he pulled out his Gryffindor uniform and disappeared down to have a change.

Oliver Wood was a very unforeseen and perplexing individual, Percy concluded.

Despite now being captain of the Quidditch team, Oliver Wood wasn't very popular or lovable. Beyond his friendliness with the Quidditch team, everyone really just thought of him as a Quidditch-addled maniac... mostly because he really was a Quidditch-addled maniac. With the hushed rumours reaching Slytherin dorms, he'd heard that he was partial to having his teammates wake up at around five in the morning for an amiable start of the day and it was cited that Wood was found gadding about the Quidditch fields at around two or three in the morning.

Smiling smugly to himself, Percy decided to go over the compartments one more time to make sure everyone else was seated. The twins seemed to hide a silly-looking ancient map that looked like something out of Percy's Ancient Runes class the minute they saw Percy walk towards them. The twins must equate the fact that Percy's dependency on glasses meant that he was partially blind, which he was not.

He went back to sit with the rest of the prefects. Gemma wouldn't even look him in the eye.

Percy stared at the window. A bunch of Slytherins were chattering about what he did with Gemma in Hogsmeade last year. He had a scarred knob... and it just dawned on him that he hadn't read a single thing of his books this summer! What a start to the year this was turning out to be!