this chapter is a tad short. I hope you don't mind, I know the wait was outrageous.

disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

unedited

the journal

chapter 10

He really didn't know what possessed himself to say it. Something about speaking the words that had been dancing upon his tongue (far longer than he'd care to admit) was extremely bittersweet. Percy couldn't tame the surge of guilt that overtook his senses as he watched Bill's features contort in shock and horror.

He waited as Bill seemed to gather his thoughts.

"You talk to me… And you let me help you."

Percy nodded, eyes focusing and un-focusing as he ran his hands through his hair.

"My friend is dead, Bill. The rest of us made a pact to change our ways and live our lives more healthily, but the more I think about it, the more I've thought about how much I wish it was me who died. And it just really fucking sucks, because before he died, I was getting better—at least I think I was. I hadn't cut myself and I hadn't even smoked as much and then last night he just dies and this whole day I've been stuck trying to pretend that it didn't happen because you guys never knew he existed, and he's one of the reasons why I act the way I do, but he understands—understood."

Bill stayed silent as Percy continued speaking, watching as the tears welled in his brother's bright blue eyes.

"He thought he might have OCD too, you know? I knew this and I never researched it, or tried to find him help. I was too caught up in letting my illnesses destroy me, trying to blame it on you guys as though you alienated me or something. Maybe you did. I don't know. I don't know anything. I don't know why I hadn't researched his OCD before today. I found his problem too, I think. I should've done it sooner, because if I had, he would still be alive. If I had just helped him a little sooner he wouldn't have felt like he was alone. He would've felt wanted."

"Percy, you did all you could for your friend. You were there for him. You supported him. That's all he could ask for. I bet you helped him so much, now please, please let us help you."

Something inside him snapped with that.

"Why? Why on Earth would you want to help me?"

His brother looked extremely shocked, staying silent as his features painted a portrait of pure disbelief. His mouth opened and closed in an almost comical way as he tried to formulate a proper response.

"What? Why wouldn't I want to help you?"

"Because when have you ever helped or cared about me? I thought this would be a turning point, you finding my journal, because maybe you'd finally realize a piece you all had in my emotional state. It's not all mental illness, Bill, did that idea ever strike you? Because I find it very hard to believe that mental illness can formulate without any catalyst. At least not mine.

"You want to know why I'm the way I am? There was the war, of course. Hiding away in dark rooms in the middle of nowhere during your first years of growth and development is a terrible thing. But then there's also the way you all treat me. You all treat me like an outsider. I've clearly never belonged in the clan of Weasleys, have I? You guys can never admit when you do anything wrong! It's always, oh well, it's not my fault Percy's a loner. It's not my fault that Percy can recognize when the twins joke with him. It's not my fault we never ask Percy to do anything with us. It's not my fault we never care when he locks himself in his room and practically begs for attention. Nope, it's all one big chemical imbalance in his brain, and nothing we've ever done has or will played a role in that.

"Even after reading my journal—my innermost thoughts and feelings—you still refuse to believe you have a role in anything. You haven't changed any behaviors, not really. Me having a couple emotional disorders is just another reason for you all to exclude me. Because I'm finally a trailblazer in the Weasley family, but it sucks because I'm not getting recognition because I'm smart, or brave, or talented. No, I'm getting recognition because I'm the resident loon. Can you even begin to process how that makes me feel, Bill?!"

Bill tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

"Percy… I…"

Percy watched as his brother struggled to gather his thoughts, and in the back of his mind he began to doubt his thought process when he burst out with his little speech. Great, now he'd probably be locked up or some shit. Some birthday.

"I'm so sorry," Bill began. He ran a hand through the loose strands hanging out of his ponytail. "I guess I caught so caught up in diagnoses that I didn't even process what caused those things."

Percy blinked as his brother pulled him into a hug, staring over Bill's shoulder at some patch in the distant, some pale green cluster of trees, waving in the gentle breeze and waving before his vision in the hot sunlight streaming downwards towards the ground. He was so distracted he barely processed Bill speaking again.

"I'm gonna talk to Mum and Dad, Perce. And I'm gonna talk to Charlie, and the twins, and Ron and Ginny. And we're gonna work to get better. I promise you that. Just please, please, continue to seek the help you need professionally, and we'll supply you the rest.

"Percy, it's a nine letter diagnosis, but there's no nine letter cure. And I see that now. I'm just so sorry it took me so long to figure it out."

He nodded, his thoughts swirling in his mind.

The burst of frenzied energy that had sparked his outbursts in the store and just now drained away very quickly, and Percy suddenly found himself feeling very tired. He believed this was what his Mum would be feeling the times she'd say she was "done." When the kids just weren't behaving and she was sapped of all energy and drive.

He shakily pushed himself out of his perch and wrapped his arms tight around his chest. "I'm kinda tired, Bill. I think I'm just gonna go upstairs and sleep or something. B-but don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything bad like smoke or cut. I'm just gonna sleep. Or at least try to. Maybe breaking past my insomnia will be the first step. After all, you need energy to fix a chemical imbalance in the brain." He gave a weak laugh to signify to his brother that the last part was a joke, and he was grateful when the 20-year-old retuned the sentiment.

"Hey, Perce. Maybe sometime this week you'd wanna invite Oliver and your other Muggle friends around. You don't have to, I just thought maybe you'd want to see them."

He nodded slowly, wiping one side of his currant curls behind his ear with a flat palm of long, pale fingers.

"Okay. I'll see if they can come sometime this week."

Percy slowly dragged his feet up the stairs as he heard the fireplace blow out dust and smoke as his family Flooed back in. When he got into his room, he changed out of his clothes and into a sweater and some long pants. He suddenly felt very cold, despite the August heat.

He crawled under his covers and pulled them up to his chin, willing his insomnia to slip away for just a few hours and allow him the comfort and release he craved, in a way without permanency.

And he stared out the window just as the canary orb of the sun broke open and begin spilling a pale, milky blend of pink and orange across the sky, painting the clouds and treetops and the inside of his room with their tenuous touch. A chiffon blend of carrot and coral pouring itself out into the pastel blue hue of the endless sky.

For once, he wasn't awake long enough to see the sun slip below the treetops, or to watch the world color itself in a shadowy steel glow.