Percy was the son who did not stick by his family until the end of the war. He had seen his share of horrors in the Ministry under the Imperio-ed Pius Thicknesse. Implied torture and abuse.

A Quiet Man

The eyes – pleading, begging. Hands reaching out… He had to get away, but there were too many.

Fred. Dead before him. Percy screamed.

"Wake up, Perce, wake up," Audrey. His wife was shaking him back into wakefulness. When he had fully roused, she accio-ed a glass of water from the nightstand. His heart was racing, and his breath came in pants. He had not had a nightmare since Lucy came. "You are safe here, love."

There had been a distraught witch in the lobby, pleading for the return of her children. She had a Muggle photo with her, slightly charred at the edges. A little boy barely five and a younger girl in a pink dress. She accosted a good many of the employees before the Aurors gently escorted her to St Mungo's.

"Poor woman. Her kids are long dead. They'd killed them then for just having a Muggle parent so they would not steal magic from the purebloods," the grey-haired Child Welfare witch had explained when Percy Weasley went to check if there was anything they could do for the poor mother.

Days when the dementors haunted the corridors of the Ministry as if they were in Azkaban. Walking in on Minister Thicknesse limp in his chair and surrounded by laughing Death Eaters… Waking up naked and confused in the office, sore and bleeding… There was a lingering foul taste in his mouth he would even taste after all those years since…

"Do you need me to set up another appointment with Healer Wickle?" Audrey asked.

Percy shook his head mutely. He would do it himself. There were tears running down his cheeks. His wife is as efficient as ever. She kissed him on the lips. It was too early to Floo-call the healer. Instead, she settled for making her husband comfortable. Audrey worked at St Mungo's as an administrator. Percy had met her there after the war, when Shacklebolt had all but ordered him to seek mind-healing. Audrey had been the welcome witch then.

He had not wanted to go at first, not wanted to make a fuss. His younger brother was dead. The family grieving. The new Minister Shacklebolt had walked in on Percy sobbing before a broken mirror in the men's loo on the third floor of the Ministry.

He had almost gotten a panic attack when he almost ran into Draco Malfoy in St Mungo's. The boy had looked so much like his father. Percy had almost drawn his wand. It was the younger man's reaction that threw him off. Where Lucius might have Imperio-ed him and forced him to kiss his boots, his son shied away. Mrs Malfoy had stepped between them before he regained control. That was many years back, before Audrey, Molly, and Lucy.

He had considered leaving the Ministry after the war, but he was needed. They had lost too many employees and bureaucrats. Someone had to keep the public services up and running. He could not bear to go into business with George. Looking at him would be a daily reminder of Fred. If he had been more alert, quicker, stronger…

Coward. He had stood aside and allowed the Death Eaters to take over. Cowering in the file room with the rest of the junior staff as Minister Rufus Scrimgeour was murdered. Afterwards, he had condescended to follow the orders given, never questioning. Lying low. Keeping safe. He had seen atrocities committed against Muggleborns, squibs… all justified under the new laws passed. He had testified in the closed trials that followed the War. Shacklebolt noted his assistant had an eidetic memory. After one particularly trying session, he had broken down in the loo.

Percy had missed out so much with his family, including Bill's wedding, the runaway success of the twins' Wizarding Wheezes... He had not been there to encourage Ron or Ginny when things got tough at school. He had wavered when the Death Eaters took over. He was thankful one of the few things Rufus did for him was teaching him to hone his occlumency. That had offered some measure of protection, though he was glad they were never truly tested. Yaxley was not as great a legilimens as he claimed to be, and Percy was able to deflect any suspicions regards to his loyalty to the Ministry. The Ministry was never the problem. It's who's working in it. So Dirk Cresswell had said. They found his remains on a desolate hillside where he had fallen.

After he found out the truth of Severus Snape from the Order, he had wished that the man was still alive. How did he cope with the horrors he witnessed, being so deeply entrenched within the enemy? Percy had barely lasted a year and emerged with his psyche in tatters. He kept his rooms near the Ministry despite Molly's pleas for him to move back home. He did not want to wake them up with his nightmares. Shacklebolt was kind, allowing him to take time off on bad days or to go St Mungo's. His healing was painfully slow. All those Imperios and Compulsions had left their mark. Still, he had recovered better than others. Some of his former colleagues emerged from the war permanently addled – residents of the Janus Thickey ward.

Percy started walking out with Audrey and soon proposed to her. She knew about his past. Her elder brother had been caught up in that turbulent year. He survived the war and turned his back on both the Ministry and Britain, moving to Australia to start anew as soon as he was cleared of all charges. Poor Milford had been nothing more than a filing clerk in the records room, the same records the Death Eaters used to hunt down their perceived enemies. Percy transferred to the Transport department at Kingsley's recommendation. He had no wish to work too closely with Hermione, his sister-in-law.

At eight-thirty, he sent a note to his secretary to inform her that he was not coming in and to reschedule his meetings. The approval for the new wizard subway line could wait. He called up the healer for an appointment.

He waited until Audrey had sent the girls to Charms school before leaving his bedroom. Topsy brough him breakfast in bed. Audrey would have told the girls their father had a late night and was sleeping in. She did pop in to check on him before leaving.

Percy did not wish to upset the children, the same way his father had tried to shield them from life's harsher realities until he could not. If it weren't for the Trace, they would have yanked Ginny out of school and gone into hiding together sooner. Ron's Trace had broken when he went on the run with Harry. His father had remained at the Ministry too much of that dark year, keeping his head down as much as he could. Percy was careful to avoid him. Perhaps they had sensed the dangers about them then. Percy had been distraught on receiving news that the Burrow had been attacked. Aberforth had reassured him that his family had fled before the Death Eaters arrived.

How odd that Percy now looked to his father as a role model of what a husband and father should be now. Arthur was unassuming - many would underestimate him, but he was unwavering in his love for his family. Perhaps he might find the courage to talk to his father, to share his experiences from the war. But that was a topic that was almost taboo in the Burrow. Arthur's injury by Voldemort's familiar, Fred's death…

It was almost time for his appointment with the healer. Percy dressed himself. Audrey would have gone off to work already. Weak, useless… The words still haunted him. Percy hunched his shoulders, wanting to make himself invisible, run, hide. He paused by the fireplace. On the mantelpiece was a photo of his daughters and wife. Audrey sat with baby Lucy on her lap while Molly sat cross-legged at her feet. They smiled and waved at him. His girls. Taking a deep breath to ground himself, Percy reached for the jar of Floo-powder. He was too rattled for any Apparition, not without risking splinching.

"St Mungo's Hospital!" he added the name of his healer's office.

He almost fell on his face when he arrived.

"Ah, Mister Weasley, you were expected," Healer Wickle caught him by the arm to steady him. "I met Audrey in the lobby. So little Molly has received her Hogwarts letter?"

Percy smiled as he allowed the healer to ease him onto a comfortable couch. "Shall we begin?"

Percy nodded. He had to get better for his family.

Author's Notes:

Percy is looking towards getting better for the sake of his family. He is not yet comfortable to share his experiences from the War with his father or other family members. He is going mind-healing and therapy in this fic while trying to live as a normal a life as possible in the public and in front of his family.