Author's Note: Well, I certainly didn't see this coming.
Most of Arthur's nights were late. Sometimes it was work that kept him at the ministry well into the evening. Other times, it was a mission with the Order that kept him from home. But most of the time, it was The Wall.
When he realized that Percy seemed to not only be missing, but missing from one of the most serious attacks on the Ministry of Magic since Grindelwald, he didn't want to believe it. Over two days, he went to Percy's office. To his flat. To the library and a myriad of shops and pubs he thought the boy might frequent. Finally, he went to St. Mungos.
And when all leads turned dry, he went home. To his kitchen. To his wife.
And then the fighting started.
You work in the same building; how did you not notice he was gone?
Why didn't you tell me sooner?
Why did you let everyone treat him so poorly?
You pushed him away. It's your fault he's missing.
A chill had fallen in The Burrow. At first, Arthur tried to write it off as a sign of the times made worse by Ron's travels with Harry Potter, Ginny's enrollment at a much darker Hogwarts than anyone could remember, and the twins' general penchant for mischief at a time when it could very well get them killed.
But Percy's disappearance was the proverbial last straw.
It started as silence. Cursory greetings were given as he walked in the door, but meals were shared wordlessly. Soon, the greetings stopped. And after that, the shared meals. What began as a prepared plate resting for him in the warmer turned into a pot on the fire and then nothing at all.
Gone also were the nights of warm embraces as they drifted to sleep, curled up in each other's arms. They may as well have slept in separate rooms for all the space between them. And then they did.
With little to come home to, Arthur devoted himself to The Wall. Every night he would stand in the shadows, watching his son's photograph, waiting for somebody to visit it. There were times when he thought it had finally happened, and Arthur did not hesitate to descend on the visitors who might have a relationship with his son.
There was a group of friends and a woman - even a sharply dressed young man, once - but they all just stared at him pitiously and apologized for not knowing Percy.
But Arthur was determined. He would wait for hours, increasingly staying so late that he opted to sleep in his office rather than make the journey home. Soon his trips to The Burrow were largely just for meetings with the Order or when Molly would send tersely written notes requesting his presence because one or more of the children would be home. As heads of the family, they had a charade to uphold after all.
Arthur's colleague, Davis, had been a godsend during all of this. Sometimes he would keep Arthur company at The Wall. Other times he would stop by Arthur's desk with lunch - and once even a fresh shirt and pepper-up potion when he realized Arthur hadn't been home in days. He was even kind enough not to comment on the careless, patchy stubble that adorned Arthur's jaw until it had overcome its sloppiness, filling out into a neat, ginger beard and moustache.
And sometimes they would just talk. Davis was sympathetic to Arthur's troubles, but - newly divorced himself - - it didn't take long for "I'm sure everything will be fine" to turn to a well-meaning "sometimes things just don't work anymore, and you'll drive yourself mad trying to force ithem."
Arthur would nod his head at this and quickly change the subject. He was certainly in a rough place with Molly, and he wasn't at all sure he could get out of it, but he refused to completely lose hope in his marriage. Because if he could give up and walk away from their 30 years together, what else could he give up on? His son? Never. Well, never again, the little voice inside his head would sometimes hatefully remind him.
It was that voice that Arthur was trying to silence when he accepted Davis' invitation to visit a pub (or several). "Have a few drinks, find something to laugh at, and help this pathetic old wizard find some pretty witches to bedazzle with his charm." It was fun for a while. The mead flowed freely, and indeed he got a bit of a laugh out of Davis' numerous attempts to pick up women - the most recent of which had ended with his target shaking her head before he had even reached the table.
"Third pub's the charm," Davis said as they neared the Hog's Head.
"Have you ever thought of, I don't know, NOT trawling the pubs in your quest for romance?"
"Where's the fun in that? Davis said with a smile as he pulled the door open and they found a table. Arthur took a seat as Davis ordered their drinks and made a lap around the establishment, scouting his options. It had been a long night, and Arthur was about to suggest they make this the last call when Davis rushed back to the table, a blonde young woman on each arm.
"Arthur!" he said excitedly, "I'd like you to meet Katia and Persephone! They're new in town."
"Hello, there" Arthur said as he rose to make room for them at the table.
"Why don't you come help me at the bar, Artie. Let the ladies get settled," Davis said as he quickly grabbed Arthur's hand and tugged him let himself be dragged across the room until they were out of sight of the women.
" 'Artie' isn't going to become a thing with us is it?" Arthur asked.
"Depends on your answer."
"My answer to what?"
"Katia and Persephone are sisters, you see, and neither wants the other to feel like a third wheel..."
"Oh, Davis, no."
"Just one night, Arthur! You don't even have to do anything, just sit there and keep Persephone entertained for me."
"Davis, that girl is half your age."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Davis said. "At the worse, she's two-thirds."
"Too young." Arthur shook his head. "And what if Molly finds out?"
"She'll be, what, more frigid than she already is?" Arthur shot him a glare, and Davis quickly backtracked. "IF she finds out, tell her the truth: I'm an idiot and absolutely hopeless and you were just helping me out." Arthur let the thought roll in his head for a moment. It was almost like a date, but not really...
"Please, Arthur," Davis pled. "I really need this. You know it hasn't been the same since Janet..."
And in truth, Davis *hadn't* been quite the same since his marriage collapsed. And yet, for all that was different, he was still there for Arthur as much as he had ever been. Maybe even more.
"Oh, all right." Arthur said. "ONE HOUR."
Davis grinned and slapped him on the back as Arthur twisted off his wedding ring for the first time in nearly three decades. Grabbing four steins of ale, they returned to Perspehone and Katia.
"Here we are," Davis said as he set the drinks down. They were nice girls - apprentice healers in Russia taking part in an exchange program at St. Mungos. Persephone was particularly interested in muggle history and struck up a conversation that Arthur was all too happy to be a part of while Davis and Katia exchanged any number of pleasantries and stories.
Persephone had just begun to tell Arthur about something called a Space Station when a bit of conversation caught his ear.
"And just like that, the cauldron exploded!" Katia exclaimed. She and Davis burst into gales of laughter.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Arthur asked.
"Oh, Katia was just telling a story about one day at work when a researcher was experimenting with mixing calming and laughing draughts to make a better anaesthetic."
"And the cauldron exploded," Katia repeated. "To this day, no one knows why, but we'll always remember Old Man Miller - the grumpiest wizard you could ever meet - prancing around-"
"With that smile on his face!" Persephone finished. "It was so funny, Arthur. Those researchers were such a stodgy old sort, and to see half of them acting so ridiculous while the other half pondered the miracle of fingers...hilarious. Of course, nothing got done for three days and the majority of the calming draught was destroyed, which certainly caused problems..."
"Oh, Persephone, stop dwelling on the negative," Katia said. "Finish telling Arthur about the moon house."
"The *space station*" Persephone corrected before continuing, but Arthur found himself only half-listening.
"Far up in they sky, farther than you could ever reach by broom, is a giant ship named Mir."
"Fred, where's your brother."
"It's so large, that the only way it could exist was for smaller rocket ships to carry it into space piece by piece..."
"He's upstairs, and 'can't possibly come down right now.' Something about a cauldron thickness report."
"And when it was finally built, men could fly up in these same ships and live among the stars for weeks, looking down not just on England or Russia or America, but the entire world."
"As if the world is going to end because cauldrons aren't all the same."
"I have to go," Arthur said. "It was lovely meeting you, but I can't stay here."
"Arthur, what are you..." Davis was agape as Arthur stood, collected his coat and headed for the door. "Excuse us for just a second," he said as he rose to follow Arthur. "We'll be right back." Arthur was already out the door when Davis caught up to him. "Hey, where are you going?" he asked.
"Davis, I am so sorry, but I really have to leave,"
"No, you don't," Davis said. "Come back inside; everything's going so well. Let Persephone finish her story; you didn't even ask how the ships stay up..."
"I wish I could, but I have to go-"
"Where?" Davis shouted, his patience finally worn well past its breaking point. "Where do you have to go, Arthur? Back to that wall so you can hide in the shadows and wait for someone who's never going to come?"
"You don't know that."
"It's been more than a month! How many people have you watched come back and cry over one of The Missing, leave a new note and walk away only to come back the next day and the next and the one after that?" He didn't wait for Arthur to answer. "Hundreds! Hundreds of people have done that, except for Percy. No one is coming for that photograph, and even if they do, it won't bring him back. Arthur, it is time to start moving forward."
"That's easy for you to say! It's not your child!" Davis reached for Arthur, but he pushed him away, knocking the man back several paces.
"Don't do this, Arthur."
"I have to."
He apparated before Davis could say another word.
Note 2: Who would have thought that in my months of not being able to find a single word for several works in progress, it would be a new chapter for this sad little story I thought was finished that would crack my dry spell. There will be another chapter, because this one went on far longer than I intended