Homecoming

May Eve prompt: Harry/Percy, with Harry being very obviously toppy and possessive during a dinner at the Burrow.

It would be the first dinner Percy had with his family at the Burrow since…it was too painful to think of, too much of an aching gap. He shook his head in sorrow, and Harry put a comforting hand around his neck, a reminder of belonging, comforting and warm, like a brand of binding, a chain that linked them.

"Alright…?" Harry asked, with a roll of his tongue that did shivering things to Percy's insides. Harry didn't really ask it, he demanded it, and to that Percy could only nod and blush.

"I'm fine." He promised, softly, and Harry let him go with a nod. It was both welcoming, that freedom, that Harry trusted him in ways that no one else did or dared now - and a disappointment. Percy after all, couldn't have all of Harry's attention for himself, always. Harry was born into this world with power and fame, born to be admired, born to have others obey and stand in awe of him.

Percy was one of many, he felt. It might always be that way – he would live with it, he must, and take what time Harry gave him freely, and treasure it – though Harry might never know.

"We're here." As if Percy couldn't see it, but had to have Harry say it: it was a hint, and Percy obeyed it, getting out of the car that Harry had taken to drive Percy from the Ministry of Magic to the Burrow. Drive, because Harry didn't trust Floo. Percy didn't mind, it had given him time, cherished and precious time, with Harry.

"Hey, Percy." Bills says, big brother that he is, he doesn't hesitate to enfold Percy in a welcoming hug. It'd been Bill who had tended to hurts as far back as Percy can remember when his mom couldn't. The thing about hugs is you can't give one without getting one back, so Percy did just that, and gladly.

"Hey." Percy greets back, soft and grating. Bill lets him go, and Charlie pats him on the back, rough and almost awkward. Harry's teeth flash, like a dragon, and Charlie backs up, smiling cautiously.

"Good to see you, Charlie." Percy says, and doesn't see that Harry relaxes. George does see, and ever trying to find him self and fill Fred's shoes, he saddles up to Percy, wrapping an arm about his waist in an almost too familiar gesture.

"Mom's made up all your favorites." George says, amiably, it's all his favorites, sure enough. He sees them sitting there on the table spread, and his mother – smiling openly. Percy can't help but smile back. She pats the seat next to her, and gladly Percy sits. Harry, of course, had followed him – them – and Percy thinks nothing of it, nothing of why. Harry claims the only other seat next to him, and Percy is grateful for this, though he has no words to tell him so.

Dad starts to dig in, serving mom first – and like him, Harry makes up a plate for Percy, all his favorites. Percy thinks only that it's because if he's too slow making his plate, his brothers (and sister) will eat it all up.

Ginny, at this gesture, rolls her eyes – but it does not stop Harry, and Percy – almost defiantly, eats what he was given.

"So when are you asking him?" Ron asks with a raised eyebrow. Percy, at first, doesn't know who he's talking to. His littlest brother is glaring at his best friend, easily, Harry shrugs the look away.

"Asking who what?" Percy asks, the fear creeping into his belly, uneasy, he looks to Harry for a hint. Harry meets his look reassuringly, swallows – and for the first time looks uncertain.

"Would you marry?" Percy shakes his head, it hasn't been done in a long time – one wizard (the more powerful) marrying another off. It hasn't been done, but that does not mean that it can't be done – most especially when it's within a pureblood family – and blood traitors or no, that's what the Weasley's are.

"Who?" Percy asks, hopeless and clueless. Of course he'll agree if it's Harry's choice. It isn't done to cross the most powerful wizard among them all. Harry's bold green eyes flick away, as if shy, as if in disbelief, but they meet him again, sure and confident.

"Me." Percy can only nod, again and again, numb and dazed with glee. He knows his brothers laugh, clap, shout, that his mother cries, that his father grins – that his sister sings of wedding things.

But its Harry that he sees, only Harry – for Harry brought him home, offers him home, is his home.