RhondaWeasley.com

[May 2005]

Fandom: Harry Potter
Title: A conversation about Percy
PenName:Rhonda Weasley
Character(s):
Paring(s):
Rating: G
Summary: Arthur reflects on a son he’s lost and Molly comforts him (during OotP).
Notes:
Warning(s):
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by the wonderfully talented J.K. Rowling.

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Arthur heard his kids laughing upstairs, quite excited at the prospect of living at ‘Order’ headquarters. It was all good fun to them, a game almost. He envied there enthsiasium, for him it was a return to dark times. He remembered what it was like when Voldermort first rose to power, what it was like to see the the dark mark and know terror would follow, what it was like to live in fear of what was coming next. For the kids it was just a scary fairy tale.

Because he didn’t want to think anymore about it anymore, Arthur grabbed the picture album at Molly’s bedside and flipped through it’s pages. There was a picture of Bill at his birth. Bill had been followed by 6 more children, so he had almost forgotten the thrill of holding his first born. It was hard to believe his oldest son was ever a baby. But looking at the picture now, he remembered holding Bill for the first time. This screaming bald infant (and seeing how long his hair was now, it was hard to believe, at birth, he was the baldest of he and Molly’s babies – Ginny came in a close seconds, but she wasn’t completly bald. She had small traces of red hair even at birth). As he looked at the picture of baby Bill, Arthur remembered swelling with pride at the idea of finally having a son. He was worried he could never love another baby like he loved Bill, but when Charlie came along a couple years later with a head full of hair he felt the same joy. And it was the same for all of his sons and his little girl, his only little girl who he could hardly believe was turning into a woman already. It seemed like just yesterday the healer shocked him with the words ‘it’s a girl’.

He flipped pages in the photo album, watching the family he and Molly built together grow on each page. And his eyes came to rest on a picture of himself and Percy. Percy couldn’t have been more than two years old. The picture made no sound, it was just little Percy laughing as his father swung him around in his arms. But the sound of Percy laughing in his memory was as clear as ever, because Percy rarely laughed and rarely had moments of feeling like his little boy. But this was one of the moments that was different, one of the moments where he really felt connected to Percy. Molly always said Percy looked the most like him. From the day he was born she’d said that, but Percy had been such a serious child that Arthur found it hard to see himself in the child. Looking at this picture, he didn’t feel that way, he really saw himself in the laughing little boy.

As the little black and white Percy toddler in the picture lifted his arms to Arthur’s younger-self, Arthur heard him clearly in his head as if he was reliving the moment.

‘Do it again daddy,’ Little Percy said reaching for his father. ‘Do it again.’

And Arthur would lift him in the air and spin him around and around. Each time he lifted him in the air he made him something different. ‘Percy’s a golden snigget’ — ‘Percy’s a hippogriff’ — ‘Percy’s the fastest flying broom in the world’. And everytime Arthur put him down from a make-pretend journey as something new, he lifted his arms again and said ‘Again daddy, do it again’ until Molly called them inside. He lifted the boy in the air and flew him straight to the table, with Percy laughing the whole time.

He’d give anything to hear that little boy laugh one more time.

“I loved watching you that day,” Molly said coming to sit next to Arthur. She smiled as she looked down at the photo album. “He’s so much like you, you know?”

“He may look like me Molly, but he’s nothing like me,” Arthur said. “That’s our problem.”

“I think the problem is that deep down, you’re too much alike. You were the black sheep in your family too,” Molly told him. “Remember you told me that? You were the one your brothers always said was rather ‘odd’. It was the same way for Percy, just his brother’s tease him for being the opposite of what you were.” Molly sighed. “But in the end, it’s the same feeling. The feeling of being one that’s different. The one that will never be accepted for what he is.”

Molly turned the pages to the day the twins were brought home. There was a little picture there of Percy leaning over to see the newborn twins. Fred spit up all over Percy. The rest of the family laughed.

“We thought it was harmless fun at the moment, but it was the beginning of a lot of hurt for Percy. He didn’t just stop being the baby, he was overshadowed by little baby twins. And when Fred and George were babies, we thought everything they did was so cute and funny… especially since there were two of them. We could barely fuss at them without breaking into a fit of giggles. And, in the end, they had each other. And Bill and Charlie were the oldest, so they had each other too. And little Percy was just kind of left hanging out there. I think he withdrew into himself a little.”

“Fred and George may be pranksters, but they’re on the right side. Besides, Percy’s a grown man now…”

“And the hurt’s just suppose to go away? Did your brother’s teasing ever stop making you feel bad. Has it ever stopped hurting you that they said your muggle facination was ‘ruining’ the Weasley name?”

“No”

Molly turned back to the laughing picture of Percy. “Arthur, he’s just that little boy inside. He wants his daddy’s love and attention.”

Arthur threw the photo album down.

“Then why would he do this to us Molly?! Why would he abandon the family?!”

“Because, in his mind it’s the right thing. Personal resentments he’s buried for years are… maybe… obstructing his judgement, but he’s just standing up for himself, something you’ve always prided in your other boys. In his own way, he’s just being the man you taught him to be… the man we taught him to be. And we have to trust in that.” Molly wrapped her arms around Arthur’s neck. ‘He loves us Arthur, he’s our baby. Just as much as Bill and Charlie and Fred and George and Ron and Ginny.”

“I know,” Arthur said sadly. “Deep down I know that.” He paused for a long time. “I’d give anything to hear him laugh again Molly. I don’t know the last time he laughed.”

“You’ll hear him laugh again Arthur,’ Molly replied. “We’ll hear him laugh together.”

And then she kissed him softly and some of the pain slipped away. After all these years, it was still magic to for Arthur to kiss Molly. And at those moments, he remebered the love that had created the seven children they shared. And children that came from that kind of love didn’t become death eaters, they weren’t evil. Maybe Percy was a little mixed up, but it wouldn’t be forever. He and Molly would get their third son back, they had to.

The End