ugh, guys, there's only a few chapters left. it's 58 in total, not including the epilogue! the next one is my favourite! it's absolutely filled with angst.
inquiries to the last chapter:
Phoenixx Rising: Percy's mind is truly surprisingly shocking and dark. i loved writing it because i feel like it's a little different than most pro-Percy fanfics, where i can still show that despite him having such dark thoughts, he is still not technically a terrible human being. "It still makes me sad that their friendship fell apart so badly." funny you should mention that given how this chapter is written! i love how you were giving Lucy's father a thought. honestly, i've never really paid attention to it though i am very interested in hearing those analogues. it's meant to come across as coincidental, but honestly, i could've gone with a much wilder route!
FairyRave: the SAT should be banned. i went to an American-based school but am studying in an Irish university and dear God, the SAT is awful. i got the most average mark on it possible. "and the tidbit about Sirius did peek my interest too, I wonder when that's going to come in," unfortunately, i did an Avengers "What Happened in Budapest" thing. it's never going to be mentioned again, but dear God, i'm awful.
Chapter Fifty-Six
December just seemed to go by. The month went by faster than Ginny on her new Firebolt, a gift that she'd gotten from Harry on her seventeenth birthday.
Percy supposed this was attributed to the fact that he'd spent a good three weeks of October attempting to wake Adrian Pucey from a coma that he had unintentionally put him in, but was not sure he entirely wanted to pull him out of.
During the first few days, Miles Bletchley kept on insisting that Terence should give Adrian the kiss of life as that would be sufficient enough to wake him up.
"Come to think of it," Miles began to say. It was peculiar to see someone that had been burned to a crumble (well, not mum's underdone cherry crumble, Percy thought with irritation) model the whole of Madam Malkin's new selection of winter robes... all on top of one another that was. Percy was sure that Miles also had thermal underpants on. "Bastard's probably never had a snog in his life."
"Of course he's had a snog," Terence mumbled, crossing his arms. "His mum's snogged him, you know!"
Percy actually thought that a snog was an adequate measure of waking Adrian up... given that if Terence really did give Adrian a snog, the little lad would suddenly get up and try to cough out the level of toxic smoke that happened to enter his tortured trachea. At this current moment, Terence's snogs could probably bring back the dead. Whether or not it could wake Marcus Flint from his hibernation was debatable.
In fact, Percy was somewhat unsure if he should call the noxious, environmentally hazardous fumes erupting from Terence's mouth as 'bad breath.' The ex-Death Eater no longer had a house, family or any money to buy himself the cheapest sausage roll, but somehow had enough to buy himself one of the most deplorable types of alcohol known to mankind and chug it down by the gallons. Percy was sure that nobody should dare light a match around him because Terence was filled with so much flammable liquid that he might just combust!
(Percy was somewhat tempted to light a match around Terence a few times.)
Nearing the end of the month, Miles and Terence had been debating if they could just throw a whole range of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes fireworks into that room to wake Pucey up from his slumber ("I am sure that setting off fireworks in a hospital is not the best course of action," Percy stated.) According to Terence, the bloke was scared of practically everything, but he was particularly afraid of loud noises. Percy begged to differ, as he was quite sure that Adrian was more frightened of bad hair than he was of loud noises. The conversation, whilst already disturbing in nature, had become even more troubling when Miles had decided to vibrantly illustrate his sex life by mentioning that if loud noises were something that could wake Adrian up, he would just bring his wife, Mallory, over and bonk her in Adrian's hospital room. Apparently, they were loud enough to wake up the whole of Europe.
After hearing that wonderful tid bit of information, Percy couldn't sleep all night. He was too busy thinking about that one time that he'd accidentally walked in on his parents at it like a couple of rabbits!
On a mildly cold day (freezing for most), Percy walked in the room, only to be brutally attacked by Adrian. He was hugged so tightly that Percy swore he could taste the bile that was coming up his throat. "I'M SORRY I WAS A BASTARD TO YOU FOR NO REASON FOR TEN YEARS!" Percy did not accept his apology because he had lost all ability to hear. He had also probably suffered from a collapsed lung. Percy was set on never forgiving him until Adrian asked, "Do you have any more of that frozen pumpkin juice?"
Percy genuinely tried to hold some form of resentment for Adrian, but after the inquiry of frozen lovely jubbly pumpkin juicy wuicy, Percy had decided that Adrian Pucey wasn't that bad after all. There was also the fact that Adrian lost all of his pain and temperature sensation. This was a scintillating thought. Percy was toying with the idea of sticking a tick to Pucey's neck. He wondered how long it would take for Adrian to notice a tick feeding on him.
It was odd. It was like they were trailing off from when they actually had been mates—in first year! Ever since that bastard had woken up, he'd practically spello-taped himself to Percy.
In the mean time, Miles had given Percy a proper briefing on why he was flambéed – apparently, it took him three seconds to remind them of the absolute spell-binding horror he had to go through, "You know, lads, I don't really remember what's happened. Just that I've woken up looking like my mum's roasted duck."
Quite a riveting tale Percy had to say. He didn't expect that plot twist at all!
Terence, on the other hand, had reminded them that he'd lost everything every three or so hours.
Adrian took the time to remind him that he could still feel pain so he hadn't lost everything. Terence grinned to that and said, "Yes, how lucky am I! If a dragon was to breathe a ball of fire on me, I'd feel it!"
Miles disagreed with this. "Lad, if a dragon was going to breathe fire on ya, you'd feel pain only momentarily. Then your nerve receptors do die off and then you can't feel pain!"
Terence seemed agitated by the fact that it seemed like all his mates have lost some of their skin receptors and he hadn't. Percy begged to differ and pointed his finger towards his inflamed, nearly-always-red dodgy leg. He had definitely not lost the any sensation receptors there.
"Well, have a dragon breathe fire on it," Miles mentioned. "That should fix it right up!"
Percy rolled his eyes when he'd heard that. "I'm sure that the smoke—that is, from the terrible fire that's practically set you ablaze—has travelled to your brain and killed off any viable neurons. I believe that it has converted you into a pyromaniac that makes less sense than a drunken house-elf."
Meanwhile, Terence wondered what drunken house-elves were like.
(Percy doubted any house-elf would sink to a low enough level to drink that cheap bollocks Terence called alcohol. Even if Percy was homeless, he'd be too refined to drink that rubbish.)
As the days passed and many mind-boggling conversations were had, the blokes started to gravitate more towards the past. They'd started to ask about Marcus quite often. Terence and Miles were quick to tell Adrian about Penelope Clearwater.
"Did he really marry that tight-arsed cow?" Adrian wondered.
Percy glared at Adrian. "You are not allowed to demote Penelope's existence to cattle, and-and just because she does not waste all of her money on liquor like you lot does not mean that she is tight arsed! I'm not sure if you've noticed but she's quite happy to throw all her money away in speciality robes shops!" He was sure that this was why people assumed that Percy and Penelope had once been in a relationship.
Percy showed them the most darling photograph of Avis. Then, as Percy suspected, they then proceeded to ruin the moment by mentioning that she seemed to look like one of the creepy antique porcelain dolls that spewed out colourful (and very personalised) insults when one threw them against the wall. Percy remembered those dolls very vividly. The last that Percy played with one had to be when he was five, the doll used to mock him. Every night, it was "perfect prefect Percy is a pretentious, pathetic prat!" Apparently, these dolls were also seers because they'd manage to summarise his past, present and future in one sentence.
(The worst thing was since the lads made the comparison to the porcelain doll that used to give five-year-old Percy nightmares and sweet, beautiful little Avis; Percy started to be able to see the resemblance!)
As suspected, Terence continued to whine about the fact that he was now living in a bench by a pub (and refused to stay with anyone that offered him a place in their home). Percy took the time to remind him that Terence smelled like he lived in the pub—well, actually, he smelled like he lived in a puddle of old man's pub vomit. Percy supposed that he could be more sympathetic but he decided that he best reserve his sympathies for those who showered more than twice a week.
Oh, Percy nearly forgot to mention! For Christmas, Audrey gave Lucy and Percy her flu. Together, with the power of unity, they've managed to spread it to every single person they've seen in the last two weeks!
"Percival, this is the worst Christmas I've ever had," Audrey reminded him that night, as they were all huddled up in front of the fireplace, hoping that nobody decided to drop by the Floo network. They were freezing and Percy believed that he probably had malaria. Lucy was huddled up into his arms, and Audrey was pressed up against his shoulder. "Godric, what if someone visits us? We've nothing made for Christmas dinner."
Percy only rolled his eyes. "Audrey... who in their right mind would visit us on Christmas Day?"
Lucy laughed her little bum off when Charlie and three of his mates walked in, asking what they'd made for Christmas dinner. Audrey had nearly torn Percy's ear off, but had decided against it. It was too much effort, she'd decided. She'd simply punished him by letting him cook for four twenty-six year old lads. That was how Percy managed to nearly set the kitchen on fire on Christmas Day. At ten at night, he'd given up and gone off to the local muggle takeaway and bought back enough fish and chips to feed an oversized family—well, maybe not his family but maybe a family of extremely hungry half-giants. He had also (very elegantly) nearly collapsed outside of the chippy and nearly died but nobody cared.
In Percy's opinion, December was an alright month. It ended with a bit of a bang, as an ecstatic Tarvos found Percy walking around the hospital one day and gave him an embrace that was so suffocating that Percy ended up fainting into Tarvos' arms... and like one would do with the creepy antique dolls, Tarvos thought that giving Percy a good whack against the wall would work on him. It certainly did! When Percy woke up, he started spewing colourful insults towards Tarvos right away!
NOW, January just seemed to run by as well. It surely ran faster than a dishevelled, thirteen-year-old Percy did from his tormentors... whom were once his mates, and now, yet again, were his mates again. He was not. Percy was not sure how this happened, but he just took it as it was. It was, after all, yet another reason why he did not self-harm as much as he used to (though to be fair, he used to practically harm himself the minute that someone left him alone.) Still, his progress was satisfactory enough that Audrey took it as a sign of genuine improvement and a sign that things were actually changing.
"You don't look happy when I've said you were improving," Audrey noticed Percy's facial expression.
"Well, err... you've to bear with me as I attempt to explain this," Percy cleared his throat. He straightened his spine. "See, your ease and trust towards the situation makes me feel like I am not ill enough and that my experiences are not as bad as they actually are. At the same time, it also makes me feel quite proud of myself. Also, there is the fact that I still want to die a fiery death but at the same time, I do not want to die. I just want to kill everyone else. Now... am I making the least bit of sense to you?"
Audrey smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "Shut up, Percival."
On a final January note towards the self-harm, Percy had recently discovered that the rubber band method that Audrey had insisted he tried was absolute rubbish! Especially considering that he tended to snap his wrist with the band up to the point where the flaky, abused skin underneath started to bleed. He supposed that that negated the reason why he was using the blasted thing in the first place.
In other non-mental-illness related news, Apollo had been started to owl him nuggets of advice (very cryptic nuggets of advice that was.) Percy enjoyed reading them probably as much as he enjoyed being constipated. Unfortunately, Apollo did not get the memo when Percy sent him a long, well-written letter explaining that Apollo's cryptic messages were absolute rubbish and that if Percy wanted to waste his time, he'd talk to a sphinx or read The Daily Prophet. Apollo still insisted on sending him cryptic messages; each letter being so long that Percy had once debated whether or not he should use the blasted thing as toilet paper.
Apollo's most recent 'message' was a three page poem regarding how preserving one's virtue was the key to success in everything in life, leading Percy to conclude that he was almost certain that Apollo thought that he was a virgin and that Audrey was carrying some other tosser's baby... how lovely.
Even the Greek God of healing and music thought that he was a twat.
Instead of properly going through the rubbish Apollo had sent him, Percy chose to waste his time by reading books about various protection charms that one may use when they were, err... fornicating...
He wanted to make sure that Audrey did not get knocked up again anytime soon as he did not want to have seven children. Lucy disagreed with this vehemently and had started to shove his books into tight and hard to reach places. She apparently wanted 'a lot' of brothers and sisters.
Well, Percy wanted 'a lot' of pain potions, but they both weren't getting what they wanted!
Audrey had locked the potion cabinet so he would not overdose on any potion. In her words, if his headache was so bad, then he should go have a good wank.
Adrian was helping Percy prepare for his encounter with Ares... by putting flobberworm mush into Percy's hair to treat the 'damaged' dull red curls overnight. He had insisted that Percy start this regimen and stay consistent with it because his father was already showing signs of balding.
"That's how you're preparing for this?" Ron had said when he'd happened to visit the flat and seen Pucey fluffing Percy's curls. To this date, Percy had no idea what Adrian referred to when he said that he wanted to fluff Percy's curls. "For Merlin's sake, Perce, you're not saying yes, are you? Sprucing up for the Greek God of war! You're already having a bloody baby with someone else!"
Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny have been irritating Percy. They insisted on attempting to help him, but Percy was not sure how many times he could say that he did not need any help. Ron's form of help was dropping by every now and then to remind him that putting people through the Cruciatus curse was a bad thing and that it was not normal to jack off to funeral images. Percy would continue to remind him that he did not want anyone to comment on the things that arouse him, especially not his little brother.
On the third of January, Percy had decided to go to the Burrow for supper. The minute he'd come in, he saw Oliver Wood swooping into the living room, carrying his father's suitcase. He trudged upstairs with as much energy as a baby owl on steroidal potions.
Percy loathed energetic people. They made him feel like a pile of unproductive bones.
Percy simply stared over at the lad as he ran up the stairs. He was hoping that Oliver would trip on the stairs, fall on his back and get an injury that would prevent him from continuing with his brimming Quidditch career. He then remembered that his epilepsy might make that abhorrent thought a probability and then forced himself to think of good things about Oliver, such as the fact that...
Well, Oliver was an Animagus. He was a dog. Dogs were loyal and adorable... and they thought that sinking their teeth into the palm of your hand was 'playing.' And if they gave you a really good bite, they could give you rabies... and then you can die within the next few weeks in a rather violent death...
During dinner, Oliver actually helped the process by deciding to mention to everyone that he had failed his Charms, Potions and Transfiguration O.W.L's. Percy supposed he had relaxed then, knowing that the person that he was envious of was a complete failure in life.
(Yes, Percy was not in a good mood on the third of January. His mum had promised to make him custard buns, but she did not. Percy was really looking forward to biting into her freshly baked rolls and feeling that cold custard contrast with the soft warm bun outside. He would not feel that happiness now. Thus, it was not Percy's fault that he wanted to burn every house in Devon to the ground with nothing more than his small piece of wire and a lightning bolt.)
(He attempted to not think of burning houses. He did not want to be responsible for the fact that the Burrow might spontaneously catch fire.)
On the fifth, he had realised what a nice smile Oliver had. This was making not hating Oliver a very difficult thing for Percy to do, especially given the fact that Oliver pinned badly worded death threats to the shed, warning Percy not to eat any of his jam roly-poly.
Percy replied by telling him that roly pollies, not only referred to the British dessert, but also referred to arthropods that curled themselves into a ball (roly pollies were also called pill bugs). Percy may have pinned multiple images of roly pollies (or pill bugs) mating to Oliver's door and no, it was not a childish thing to do. He was simply educating Oliver after all!
"A few days ago, I've made a jam roly-poly for Oliver and he hasn't had a single bite of it!" Molly sounded worried. "That's quite odd, don't you think?"
"Quite," Percy nodded his head. "Something must've been bugging him."
(He could not stop thinking of fire for the past two days that he'd been in the Burrow. Thankfully, only his pillow had caught fire and nobody had gotten hurt.)
(Also, he no longer had a bed. Just a pillow and about three thousand blankets that his mum had made especially for him. "Don't you eve dare say that I'm just trying to deal with you! I love you, Percival! Godric, you're pale... what have you had today? Certainly not enough if you look this pale. Doesn't he look pale, Arthur?" she was frantic about him. He... he felt quite happy about it.)
Percy returned back to Audrey's flat on the eleventh. The first thing that Audrey had done when he'd walked inside was yell at him because... well, he wasn't exactly sure why she was yelling at him but he was sure that he'd done something abhorrent and idiotic but just could not remember it. Lucy was angry because she wanted Percy to have brought her back some sweeties.
Thus, Percy had decided, within five minutes of coming back to the flat, that he'd really missed them when he'd been away.
FEBRUARY just seemed to go by. The month just disappeared quicker than Percy's dignity did when a six-month-pregnant Audrey had decided to have sex with him in public (and subsequently, getting caught doing so in public and having to be bailed out by a fairly amused Ron—whom Percy had to pay so that he wouldn't tell anyone else about this calamity.) It didn't help because everyone found out eventually and Terence, Adrian and Miles were taking the mickey out of him for a week afterwards, and Audrey? Well, her sex drive was still impossible. Percy wasn't sure how one attained a penile fracture but with how she was going at it, he wouldn't be surprised if one day, she'd just break the bloody thing!
"Penelope and Marcus are coming home today," a happy Audrey with a big, happy belly (that Percy could gape at for hours) reminded him on the eighteenth of February.
She placed her hand on his shoulder and then pulled herself close to him. She was looking at him with a kind of affection that made his heart race.
"You haven't harmed yourself in weeks," she was staring over at his arms.
He'd been using tins and tins of Paisley and Holland's Extremely Effective Scar Remover to clear the congealed bloody mess he had before. Fortunately, most of his scars had faded. He didn't believe that rubbish about time healing all wounds and frankly, he was too impatient. Apparently, he was 'lucky', because the woman at the cash register said that it was wouldn't have been possible to fix what he'd done to himself. Well, the woman hadn't taken into account that since he'd been living with Audrey, everything that he once thought was impossible had simply just become 'difficult' and 'unlikely'—such as the fact that it was unlikely that he would ever see himself as more than a glorified horklump. Unlikely, but not impossible.
Percy stared back at her. He was in awe of her. "Well, I did burn my tongue on a cuppa last night."
"Well, then I might have to leave you for that one," Audrey said, moving her hand from his shoulder right to his cheek. She enclosed whatever gap was between them.
"I believe it's only fair," Percy was not even sure how he was speaking. Her eyes were just...
"Do you have to do this EVERY morning?" an irritated eight-year-old Lucy walked into the room. She was in her purple pyjamas that Percy had bought her (he was shameful to admit he was wearing, too, was wearing purple pyjamas.) Her glasses were sliding up her nose, and it prompted Percy to push his glasses up, nearly pushing his glasses into his corneas in the process. "I understand! You like each other! You like each other so much you two are content with looking at each other for the rest of your lives and you can! I don't mind but-BUT NOT BEFORE YOU MAKE ME BREAKFAST!"
"Content," Audrey reiterated the word Lucy insisted on using.
"Think you've used the word a few times," Percy nodded off towards Audrey.
Audrey's cheeks coloured in and a smile found its way to her lips. "I'm sure I did."
"YOU'RE DOING IT AGAIN!" Lucy exclaimed, standing up from the chair and trying to push Percy away from her mother. She was staring at the empty table and groaned. "Now, what's for breakfast? I'm starving!"
Audrey disappeared to her muggle macrowave. Percy was not quite sure how Audrey was so efficient in using these contraptions. He did like the fact that he snuggled up to a muggle fairytale every night with Lucy on Audrey's command. It was nice to read something completely unfamiliar every day. Audrey tapped onto the machine, and suddenly, it came to life. Percy shuddered and looked away. He did not trust these-these monstrosities. What if this macrowave just... exploded? Audrey did mention that this was a wizarding version of a muggle product because it did not run on-on... eckeltricity!
Audrey pushed a plate of waffles towards Lucy, whom looked unhappy with this. Perhaps, it was the fact that it looked to be studded with owl treats and seeds. The strawberry jam was thick and gelatinous.
"Audrey, I know that I'm always short of a few sickles, but don't you think it's a bit cruel to feed our daughter owl treats?" Percy had mentally kicked himself for calling Lucy their daughter... it wasn't his fault that the girl looked so much like him that a drunken Bill confused her for an eight-year-old Percy.
Audrey glared at him. "I am not feeding Lucy owl treats!" she exclaimed. "They're dates."
"Lucy is too young to be frolicking with men," Percy mumbled, before he realised that she meant the fruit and he flushed. He cleared his throat. It was nearing seven and he really had to dash. "Audrey, there's something I've been meaning to tell you all week, but you know, something's always come up, like on Saturday, where I wanted to tell you something and you decided that you were... err... excited."
Audrey nodded her head.
"And on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday when you've decided that you were... excited," Percy reminded her, only for her to nod her head again. "Well, that thing I wanted to tell you is that in approximately ten minutes, I have to leave because I've snagged myself a job! At the Ministry!"
Audrey should really close her mouth before she caught a couple of glumbumbles.
"Percy," she sounded surprised. "Percy, you're an epileptic."
"Yes, I know—" Percy was cut off.
Audrey shook her head in disbelief. "You haven't even finished your schooling."
"That's not fair! I was busy being tortured!" Percy crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. He flushed when he realised that he was not supposed to talk about his endless turmoil in front of his eight-year-old child, whom was... first of all, not actually his child and was busy poking Audrey's homemade strawberry jam with her spoon just to watch it wiggle around. "I mean..." his cheeks coloured in.
Percy swallowed a lump in his throat. "You see, I may have... accidentally... saved the Minister's life."
Audrey rolled her eyes. "You've saved the Minister's life?"
"It was on The Daily Prophet on Sunday!" Percy tried to argue. They only brought the paper so that Lucy could use it for her scrapbooking. She liked to cut the newspaper into small little animals and glue them. He was sure somewhere in her scrapbook, there was a poorly constructed elephant with the headlines: TWAT SAVES MINISTER FROM IMPENDING DOOM. "I don't just annihilate things you know—and by annihilate; I mean to say that I obliterate things in a completely orderly and organised fashion."
Audrey shook her head. "I cannot believe you," she leaned against the counter.
"I can't believe this breakfast," Lucy mumbled, still picking at her strawberries.
"EAT IT, YOU LITTLE TWAT! IT'S GOOD FOR YOU!" Audrey exclaimed. Lucy hadn't even flinched. She was busy groaning about the size of the strawberries. Percy wouldn't blame her. He'd never seen a strawberry that was bigger than Audrey's bosom. She turned to Percy. "AND YOU! There is NOT ONE TIME in my life that I do not regret having you around me! You're a selfish bastard! I can't believe you-you saved the Minister and got a job! How dare you!"
Percy was not sure why Audrey was mad at the moment. "Love, I'm sure there was something you've been meaning to tell me but haven't told me due to... how excited you are."
"There is nothing that I've not told you!" Audrey exclaimed, still looking angry and then her face dissolved. "Well, perhaps, there is this one small thing..."
Percy did not get to ask what she meant before the door to her flat was suddenly smashed in. Nine happy black-haired women walked inside; followed by an ecstatic Miles Bletchley practically tied to one of them. Terence followed in, carrying a flash of what Percy immediately deduced to be cheap liquor. An angry Oliver Wood followed in, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I might be throwing a party today since Marcus and Penelope are coming back and it's Marcus' birthday too," Audrey suddenly chirped.
Percy blinked and stared at the catastrophe that was forming before him. "Audrey, I'm going to work."
"I know," Audrey replied.
Percy fixed the tie that he was wearing and turned to go to his room to put on his wrinkle-free Ministry robes. "I might not come back home. Not ever."
Audrey nodded her head. "I know."
OLIVER Wood was sitting on the couch. It was nearly three o'clock. He'd had nothing to eat, and was feeling rather nauseous. He couldn't stop thinking about Marcus right now—actually, he couldn't stop thinking about Marcus ever since he'd left England. Considering today was the lad's twenty-third birthday, Oliver had gotten him a Falmouth Falcons shirt that was officially signed by one of the better known Beaters. He loathed that team, but he thought that he could do this one little thing for his mate.
He couldn't even properly revel in the most recent victory he had: he absolutely smashed it in last game when he'd taken up the old Keeper's spot, so much so that they'd decided to take him off the reserve team and put him on the actual team.
He was supposed to be bloody ecstatic, but he had been so depressed. The one person that he had to share his excitement with was going on long early morning boat rides in Thailand with his wife and child.
Godric, he'd been so lonely without Marcus around.
Oliver had tried to go out with other people, but he felt even lonelier than ever with them around. He feigned smiles and beams, but nobody could see how truly upset he was.
He'd even cried himself to sleep a few times at night.
He hadn't been separated from Marcus this long since they'd decided to be mates. That was nearly eight years ago! Whatever rows they had were resolved in less than half a day and they were back to talking to each other again... oh, how he could talk to Marcus for hours. He couldn't even talk to any of the Weasley's for three minutes without feeling like the conversation was going on forever (how could they spend six hours talking about Harry? He liked Harry, but the poor bloke couldn't even go to the lav without someone commenting on it!) He tried. He really tried. He'd probably gone out with both the reserve and the actual team about ten different times just to try and ease into the whole thing and he just felt worse than he did when he was sitting at home, sulking by himself. It didn't help that everything he bloody did reminded him of Marcus. He had stacks of dark chocolate frogs stashed in a box under his bed that he'd started to collect for the little lad so that he'd have something to nosh on when he'd come home. They were the limited edition kind that had small bits of fruit and nuts in them. Oliver smiled when he thought about how much Marcus would love them! He'd especially like the one with tiny peach bits and pecans.
Merlin, this was pathetic. Oliver was pathetic. He couldn't even wish for Marcus to have a bloody awful time, because he genuinely hated the bloke to be sad. He was honestly hoping that Marcus had a marvellous time. He just hated that it had to be with her. She'd-she'd bloody stolen his idea! They were supposed to travel—
Hearing the doorbell ring was enough to pull Oliver out of couch. He'd probably run over there faster than the Quaffle went through the hoop during yesterday's practice (yes, it was an awful practice. Yes, he'd mucked up and yes, they were threatening to replace him.) For once, he was not dressed in his Puddlemere United robes for once, and had insisted on wearing a thick jumper and dark trousers. Oliver could barely recognise himself in the mirror without his usual attire.
He opened the door with a beam on his face. It disappeared when he noticed Penelope holding Avis into her arms. Great... the overcooked tart was here!
"Where's Marcus?" Oliver asked. Yes, he was irritated.
"He's at the flat, changing his clothes," Penelope answered before she walked inside. Oliver thought that this was rubbish, but realised that the little lad must be cold. It was freezing outside and last owl he'd received, they were in some sort of awfully hot climate. She grinned over at Audrey. "Marcus and I had a brilliant time together! It's really brought us closer... we might even do it again in a few years time. We nearly missed our Portkey a couple of times, but we made it there in the end! I have so many photographs to show you! Where's Percy right now?"
"He's at work," Audrey replied, and immediately, Penelope stared at her with incredulity. "He saved the Minister from some doom—I've to read the Sunday Prophet—and now, he's got a job at the Ministry."
Penelope just shook her head, digesting the information.
Oliver's heart raced into his chest when he heard another knock on the door. He turned to open the door and was taken back. He shifted uncomfortably in his position. Wait, were those cheeks he had? Impossible!
Oliver's eyes drifted down to Marcus' clothes—oh, those black trousers and white shirt. He looked like a schoolboy. The worst thing was he couldn't even blame Penelope. If Marcus wasn't wearing robes, he was wearing a black-and-white ensemble like this one. It looked ridiculous. There were quite a few times he'd even decided to put on a sweater vest on to fully complete the look of a lad whose mum had dressed him up. Honestly, given that he'd actually met Viola, Oliver was partially sure she actually still dressed him up!
Marcus beamed over at Oliver. Well, his tooth was still missing. "Where's my birthday cake, Wood?" he asked. "I want to blow up candles."
"Blow out," Penelope corrected in irritation.
Marcus smirked and shook his head. "Blow up."
Oliver was trying to digest what was in front of him. "Your clothes..." he sounded surprised. "They fit you!"
"I know!" Penelope looked smug, shaking her head. "Marcus, did you get Avis' bottle?"
"Of course not," Marcus replied, putting his hands into her pocket as Avis walked over to him, and grabbed one of his legs. She stared up at him with big, blue eyes.
Oliver was eyeing up Marcus, still trying to digest the bigger picture. "You... you've put on weight!"
"Yes, he eats three times a day instead of three times a week now! With snacks! Isn't that right, Marcus?" Penelope said, watching him sit down on the couch before he picked up his daughter from the ground and placed her onto his lap. "If his mother says something about this, I'm going to kill her."
Marcus stiffened up and pulled his legs up against the couch. He looked so unsure of himself that it actually made Oliver's chest tighten up.
That was one thing that Oliver and Penelope seemed to agree on. Viola Flint was a right cow, she was!
"Well, I've the cake ready if anyone wants to have a..." Audrey paled dramatically, and bit down her lower lip. Oliver's heart started to thud, seeing her in distress. He didn't hate Audrey. In fact, he actually liked her. There was something about her that reminded him of Molly. "I think my water's just broke."
PERCY cocked his head to one side. "Minister Shacklebolt, the whole Ministry is in shambles. Everyone is having trouble reorganising all the disordered documentation. There is a thorough routine background check that has to be done on every Ministry employee that is estimated to take five months and three weeks to complete. Half of the employees had to be fired due to their affiliation with You-Know-Who. The building is so overworked that nobody has, thus far, stopped to say hello—except for you, of course and I have finished the miniscule amount of work that you have set out for me to do as your personal assistant."
"What's the problem then?" Kingsley hadn't even looked up from the letter that he was reading.
Percy took a deep breath. "Don't you think that you want me involved in helping in any of these affairs? Given the fact that, as I've said before, I've finished all the work you've set out for me... in the first ten minutes of my arrival, and you've gotten so tired of staring at my face for the past hour that you've told me to get your robes from Madam Malkin's."
"Did you get my robes?" Kingsley asked, looking up from the paper with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, I have but that's not the point, Minister," Percy's cheeks coloured in. "I was asking if I can pop down to the department just below and help them with their proceedings. They seem to be... rather stressed."
"I'll call up someone to take you down to the—" Kingsley was cut off when a stressed out looking Penelope ran into the office. She obviously did not have an appointment with the Minister, like Percy did. Well, he was the one that scheduled the Minister's appointments, so he would know. Yes, he had to schedule an appointment for himself.
"Percy!" she exclaimed, running up to him and wrapping her arms around him. "Your wife is giving birth."
"I've not married to her yet," Percy corrected before he digested what Penelope was telling him and paled dramatically. He felt rather ill as the reality of the situation dawned on him. "Penelope, she's only just six months in! She's not even in her twenty-fifth week yet!"
"I know, Percy," Penelope's eyes were big and wide. "We have to go... it's lovely to meet you, Mr Minister! I'm sorry that it had to be under these circumstances! I've heard that Percy saved your life! Err... that'll be an interesting story to tell the wife, isn't it?"
"He's not married either," Percy replied automatically.
Penelope suddenly walked up to Kingsley's desk. "Mr Minister, how come St Mungo's receives so little of the government's money? And how come I'm paid so little in comparison to other hospitals in Europe—"
"PENNY, LEAVE THE MINISTER ALONE!" Percy screeched. Kingsley didn't seem at all entertained by this. He grabbed her and guided her to the door, offering a weak smile towards the Minister. "Do you need me to pick up anymore robes whilst I'm out, Mr Minister?"