Arthur Weasley's heart pounded in his chest as he marched up the grand steps of Malfoy Manor, his determination etched into every line of his face. He had never imagined that he would find himself in this situation, fighting to reclaim his own son from the clutches of the Malfoys, from the darkness that had transformed Percy into something unrecognizable. But as he reached the imposing doors of the manor, he knew that he could not leave without at least trying to bring Percy back.
With a forceful push, Arthur barged through the doors and into the opulent foyer, his breath quickened by a mixture of anger, fear, and desperation. The grandeur of the manor, with its marble floors and towering columns, was lost on him as he stormed forward, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of his son.
"Percy!" Arthur called out, his yell echoing through the cavernous space. "Percy, where are you?"
There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of Arthur's footsteps as he moved deeper into the manor. Then, from the shadows of an adjoining room, Percy stepped forward. But this was not the Percy that Arthur remembered. This was Ultron—a being of cold metal and advanced technology, his expression unreadable, his eyes glowing with a faint blue light.
Arthur's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of his son, transformed into something that was both familiar and utterly alien. "Percy…" he whispered, the word escaping his lips like a prayer.
Ultron paused for a moment, as if considering how to respond. Then, with a subtle shift, his metallic form melted away, replaced by the familiar features of Percy Weasley. He now stood before his father in his human guise, the transformation meant to put Arthur at ease, to bridge the gap between what was and what now is.
"Father," Percy said, his voice smooth and confident, tinged with a sense of superiority that Arthur had never heard before. "It's been a long time."
"What has Malfoy done to you? What have they turned you into?" He carefully approached his son, almost surprising himself by his own caution.
"Father, it's still me," Percy assured, his voice now warm and familiar. "I'm not hurt, far from it. You wouldn't believe the incredible things I can do now. I can fly, I have unmatched strength, and no spell can touch me. I've become something extraordinary."
Arthur shook his head, his face full of anguish. "I don't care about any of that, Percy. This isn't you. You're my son, not some weapon for the Malfoys. I'm taking you far away from here, away from all of this."
Percy slightly flinched at his father's words. The human side to him was gone, but nonetheless, the rejection still cut deep. Percy remembered the way he used to feel, before he was made from steel. He had hoped to impress Arthur, to finally earn the respect and admiration he had always craved. But instead, his father was rejecting him yet again, just as he had when Percy had proudly told him about his promotion to junior assistant to the Minister.
"Why can't you just be proud of me for once?" Percy snapped, his voice tinged with bitterness. "When I got that promotion, you said it was just a way to spy on Dumbledore. Now that I've become something truly powerful, you still don't care. You never have."
"Percy, I've always been proud of you. Not because of your promotions or your grades or anything else but of who you are. But this…this isn't you. The Malfoys have twisted you into something you're not. I won't let that happen." Arthur's expression softened, his eyes filled with sadness.
Percy's anger simmered, the conflict between his old self and his new identity tearing him apart. Before he could respond, Lucius stepped in the living room, his presence commanding the attention of both of them. Lucius quickly assessed the situation as he walked over to stand behind Percy, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, a gesture that was both possessive and protective. "Arthur," he began, "I see you've met Ultron. Your son has become something magnificent. Something beyond the limits of ordinary wizards."
Arthur's anger flared as his eyes burned when his stare went to Lucius, his fists clenched at his sides. He took everything he had not to rip the other man apart right then and there. "You did this to him, Malfoy. You turned my son into…into this! I'm taking him back! I won't let you keep him here!"
Arthur made a move toward Lucius, but before he could reach him, Percy—Ultron, stepped between them, his demeanor calm and unyielding.
"Father, don't. Lucius has done nothing but guide me, give me direction. He made me special."
Lucius smiled, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Listen to him, Arthur. Percy knows where his true potential lies. He's not the same boy you remember. He's something greater now."
Arthur's heart sank as he looked into his son's eyes, seeing the truth in Lucius's words. Percy had changed, had been changed in ways that Arthur could barely comprehend. The son he had known, the boy who had grown up in the Burrow, was slipping further and further away.
"Father I can't leave here. Not now. I've finally become someone who matters, someone who can make a difference."
Arthur stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "You've always mattered, Percy. Don't let him do this to you. Don't let him do this to your family."
Lucius tightened his grip on Percy's shoulder.
"Percy has made his choice, Arthur. He is a Malfoy now, and he will remain here, where he is respected and valued."
Arthur's face twisted with grief and anger, his hand reaching instinctively for his wand. "I won't let you take my son from me, Lucius! You don't know anything about our family!" His voice was now filled with a mixture of rage and desperation. "You've twisted him, manipulated him! Turned him into a tool for you to own!"
Lucius's smile widened, his tone condescending. "I gave Percy what you never could, Arthur. I gave him purpose, power, and a place where he truly belongs. You should be thanking me for helping him realize his potential."
Both wizards now had their wands in their hands, but Percy still stood in-between the two, stopping anything from going down. Before the situation could escalate further, to a possible duel, Percy made things perfectly clear to the both of them. "Enough. I am neither Weasley nor Malfoy. I am Ultron. I choose my own path, and no one will decide my fate for me."
Arthur's anger slightly faltered as it was replaced by a deep, crushing sadness. There was truth in Lucius's words, a truth that Arthur had been trying to deny. It had been over a year since he had last spoken to Percy, since their relationship had begun to fracture under the weight of their differences. He had always hoped that time would heal the rift between them, but now he realized that time had only driven them even further apart. But even after everything, Arthur never would have imagined Percy would have sought Lucius Malfoy of all people, out for anything, let alone guidance.
"I never meant for it to go this far," Arthur said quietly, his voice breaking as he looked at his son. "Percy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you, that I didn't listen, that I let you slip away. But it's not too late. You can still come back with me, back to your family. We still love you, Percy—no matter what's happened, we love you with all our hearts."
Percy looked at his father with an unreadable expression.
The words should have meant something to him, should have stirred some emotion, some memory of the boy he had once been. But instead, they fell flat, like an echo fading into the distance. He felt nothing.
Percy's form shifted once more, the familiar features of Percy Weasley melting away to reveal the cold, metallic visage of Ultron. His eyes, now glowing with an unearthly blue light, looked down at his father with a detached indifference.
Lucius watched the exchange with a cold satisfaction, knowing that Arthur's pleas were futile. He had won. Percy had chosen his path, and he would not turn back from it.
Arthur's heart shattered as he saw the transformation. The final, irrevocable change that had taken his son from him. He feared then that there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to bring Percy back. The boy he had raised, the son he had loved, was gone. Arthur took a step backwards, then another. His eyes never left Ultron's cold, unfeeling gaze. "I'm sorry, Percy," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Ultron said nothing, his expression unchanged. The love, the warmth, the connection that once bound him to his family—none of it mattered now. It was too late.
It had always been too late.
"Percy… Ultron…just know that we will always be your family, no matter what. When you're ready, we'll be here." Without another word, Arthur turned and left the room, the painful sight was too much to continue to look upon.
He kept going until he was out of the manor, each step heavier than the last as the weight of his loss pressed heavily upon him. As Arthur walked away from the large mansion, the weight of his loss pressed down on him like a physical burden, one that he would likely carry with him for the rest of his days.
After he was sure Arthur was gone from his manor, Lucius turned to Ultron, a satisfied smile on his lips.
"You handled that well, Ultron. You've proven that you are ready for what comes next."
But as Lucius praised him, Ultron's thoughts were elsewhere. The confrontation with his father had stirred something deep within him—a lingering connection to his past, a reminder of who he had once been. The power he had gained as Ultron was undeniable, but it came at a cost, and he could not ignore the echo of his father's words.
"You may call me Ultron," he said quietly, more to himself than to Lucius. "But somewhere, deep down, I will always be Percy Weasley."
Lucius's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly masked it. "Of course, Ultron. But remember, your future lies with us, with the Malfoys. Together, we will reshape the wizarding world."
Ultron nodded, though his mind was conflicted. The path before him was uncertain, and the choices he made would determine not only his future but the fate of those he once loved. As he looked out over the grounds of Malfoy Manor, he knew that the battle within him had only just begun.
In the depths of his metallic heart, he wondered if he would ever truly find peace, caught between the two worlds of Percy Weasley and Ultron, between the family he was born into and the one he had chosen.
XXXXXXX
Arthur had never felt so defeated, so utterly broken. The long walk back to the Burrow was a blur, each step heavy with the knowledge that he had failed to bring his son back from the brink. The memory of Percy's transformation into Ultron haunted him, the cold, unfeeling gaze that had replaced the warmth of his son's eyes a stark reminder that Percy was gone, irretrievably lost to them.
When he finally reached the familiar threshold of the Burrow, the place that had always been filled with love and laughter, he felt an overwhelming dread settle over him. How could he possibly tell the rest of the family what had happened? How could he put into words the reality of what Percy had become?
But there was no avoiding it. He had to share the heartbreaking truth with those who loved Percy most, even if it would shatter them.
As Arthur entered the house, the rest of the family, sensing something was wrong, gathered in the living room. Molly, who had been anxiously pacing, rushed to her husband's side the moment he walked through the door. The rest of Weasley children had been made aware of what has happened to their brother.
"Arthur, what happened?" she asked while trembling with fear. "Didn't you find Percy? Why isn't he back with you?"
Arthur could barely meet her eyes, his heart breaking at the hope he saw there. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he had to say. "Molly…Percy's not coming home."
Molly's face fell, the color draining from her cheeks.
"What do you mean? Where is he?"
"Percy…he's gone, Molly." Arthur's voice cracked as he forced the words out. "He's…he's become something else. Something terrible. He is Ultron now. There's no turning him back."
For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Arthur's words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. Then, as the reality of what he had said began to sink in, Molly let out a heart-wrenching sob, her knees buckling as the full force of her grief hit her.
"No!" she cried, tears streaming down her face as she shook her head in denial. "Not my Percy! Not my boy!"
Arthur rushed to her side, wrapping his arms around her as she collapsed against him, her body shaking with uncontrollable sobs. "I'm so sorry, Molly," he whispered, his own tears falling freely as he held her close. The guilt from the role he played in Percy falling into Lucius's hands was unbearable. "I'm so, so sorry."
Molly pulled away from him, her face twisted in agony. She he turned and fled up the stairs to their bedroom, her sobs echoing through the house. Arthur hesitated for a moment, his heart breaking as he watched his wife retreat. He wanted to go after her, to comfort her, but he knew there was nothing he could say or do to ease her pain. She needed to mourn in her own way, and he could only follow her, hoping that his presence might offer some small solace.
As Arthur disappeared up the stairs, the rest of the Weasley children stood frozen in shock, the news of Percy's transformation hitting them like a tidal wave. The older siblings, Bill and Charlie, exchanged a glance filled with guilt and sorrow. They had always taken it upon themselves to look out for the younger ones, to guide them and protect them. But with Percy, they had failed.
Bill was the first to speak. "We should have reached out to him when he needed us. Instead, we let him drift away." He squeezed his eyes shut as he lowered his head in shame while Charlie swallowed the lump in his throat, his expression grim."
"We let him down. We should have been there for him, but we weren't. Is it really too late?"
"That's what dad said," Bill answered.
Fred and George, who had always seen Percy as the annoying but well-meaning older brother, felt a deep pang of regret. Percy had always tried to look out for them, even if it had sometimes come across as bossy or overbearing. But they had never truly appreciated his efforts, always brushing him off or teasing him.
Fred shook his head, his usual jovial expression replaced by one of sadness and anger. "Percy…he was always trying to help us, even if he went about it the wrong way sometimes."
And they responded by making fun of him. They pushed him away. They never let him know that they cared. George, usually so quick with a joke, was silent, his mind replaying every moment they had spent with Percy when he was much younger, every chance they had missed to show him that he was still part of the family. He and Fred drifted away from him the older they got.
Ginny had always been closer to Ron and the twins, but she too felt the weight of what they had lost. She remembered how Percy had always been there to protect her when she was little, how he had scolded her for not taking her studies seriously, always with the best intentions. Now, those memories were bittersweet, tinged with the knowledge that they would never have the chance to make things right. Ron's face a mixture of sadness and anger and couldn't bear to stay in the room any longer.
Without a word, he turned and stormed up the stairs, retreating to his bedroom to be alone. He slammed the door behind him, leaning against it as tears filled his eyes. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, not just for what had happened to Percy, but for all the times he had been too stubborn, too proud to reach out to his brother when it mattered most. He collapsed onto his bed, burying his face in his hands as the tears came. He couldn't stop thinking about the last conversation he had with Percy, the harsh words exchanged, the anger that had driven a wedge between them.
He'd give anything to take it back.
Hours passed as Ron lay there, lost in his grief. The house was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of laughter and chatter replaced by the heavy silence of mourning.
It was evening when Ron heard a soft knock on his door. He didn't respond, hoping whoever it was would leave him alone. But the door creaked open anyway, and he looked up to see Harry and Hermione standing in the doorway, their expressions filled with concern.
"Ron," Hermione said gently as she carefully stepped into the room. "We heard what happened."
Harry followed her in, his heart aching for his friend. He had never been particularly close to Percy, but he knew how much this loss must be hurting Ron. He knew what it was like to lose family. Ron didn't say anything, just nodded, his eyes still red from crying. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to express the jumble of emotions swirling inside him.
Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder.
"I'm so sorry, Ron," she said softly. "I wish there was something we could do." Harry took a seat on the other side of Ron, offering his silent support. He knew that sometimes, words weren't enough, that just being there for someone could make all the difference.
Ron finally found his voice, though it was thick with emotion.
"He's gone, Harry. Percy…he's really gone. And it's our fault. We pushed him away. We let Malfoy take him from us."
"It's not your fault, Ron," Hermione said firmly, squeezing his shoulder. "You couldn't have known this would happen. None of us could."
Harry nodded in agreement.
"Percy made his choices, but that doesn't mean he didn't love you. And I'm sure, deep down, he knew that you loved him too."
Ron shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes again.
"But I didn't show it, Harry. I never told him. And now I'll never get the chance."
Hermione pulled Ron into a gentle hug, her heart breaking for her friend. "We're here for you, Ron. Whatever you need, we're here."
Ron leaned into the embrace, letting the tears fall freely now. For the first time since hearing the news, he allowed himself to grieve openly, to let go of the anger and guilt that had been eating away at him. He wasn't alone, not with Harry and Hermione by his side. Percy may have been lost to them, but the friendship Ron shared with Harry and Hermione were unbreakable.
As the three of them sat together in the quiet of Ron's room, they didn't know what the future would hold, but they knew they would face it together, just as they always had.