Chapter 1
"Aha! I got it to work! Molly! I got it to work!" Arthur yelled excitedly through the kitchen, waving the muggle video camera in the air. He'd be working on getting the camera to work for weeks now and finally, finally, the little red light indicated that it was working. Finally.
"That's nice dear," Molly responded, hands busy kneading dough. Her apron covered in flower and her hair put up with her wand "what are you going to do with it now?"
Arthur grinned. A cheeky grin, the grin that his dear wife fell in love with. "I'm going to interview the kids, something for them to look back on in the future."
As he walked through the house, looking for each of his children, he prepared his million galleon question. What do you want to be when you grow up? As suspected he found fourteen year old Bill and twelve year old Charlie in their shared room, comic books strewn across the floor. The absolute dissary.
"Boys! What do you want to be when you grow up?" Arthur asked excitedly.
"I wanna be something cool! Like care of magical creatures professor at Hogwarts!" Charlie almost screamed. He was ever such an excitable boy, they all were. Well almost.
"I want to be a archaeologist! Imagine going to somewhere hot to look at bones!" Bill gave his answer and Arthur gave a chuckle.
"Brilliant answers boys, brilliant."
Off he went to find his other children and he caught Fred and George in as they were walking to their room. "Boys, boys, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
They gave their cheeky grins. The grin they got from their father, a twinkle of mischief in their eyes. "We wanna be world renowned pranksters, and put Zonko's out of business!" They proclaimed, while pulling superhero poses. Arthur gave a sharp laugh.
He found Ron and Ginny in the kitchen with their mother. Four year old Ginny trying her hardest to copy her older brother, practising a dance? Maybe? "And what do you two want to be when you're older?"
Ron, stopping his dance instructions, turned towards his father. "I wanna be rich and famous! A famous aura! Yeah! And eat lots and lots and lots of éclairs!" He yelled, giving his mother a wistful look, trying to convince her to hand him the éclairs on the work top. Good luck.
"I wanna be tall! I'll be in charge when I'm tall" Ginny glared at her older brother. His daughter really was going to be a force to reckon with. "Yes, yes you will, my darling."
He eventually found Percy, his nine year old spitting image, in the living room. Perched in the window, content to just watch the snow fall, absentmindedly fiddling with the Christmas lights around him. "Percy, son," Arthur started, speaking much more softly than he had with his other kids "what do you want to be when you grow up?"
Percy turned to look at his dad, his big glasses falling down his face as he smiled softly.
"I want to be happy." He turned to look back out the window, to continue watching the snow.
He hadn't expected that. He'd thought that maybe he'd have said he wanted to work in the ministry or at Gringots, but no, his nine year old biggest dream was to be happy.
"I had no idea Percy used to be so..." Harry started. They'd played the old video Arthur had taken fifteen years ago. After all, it felt only fitting, with it being the first Christmas they were all together. Almost. Almost all together.
"Soft?" Ron finished.
"Yeah!" Harry confirmed. It was strange, seeing this family video filmed by a completely magical family. Stranger still to see Percy of all people, being so, so innocent. So small.
Arthur spoke, gruffly, one of the only things he had said all night, "Percy was an incredibly sweet boy, I've not clue what changed."
"He started changing when he met that Clearwater girl, she really were a bad influence." Charlie stated, matter of factly.
"They're still together." George said. "And rumour is she wears the pants in that relationship." Fred continued.
"How would you know?" Ginny asked, genuinely intrigued.
"Why, Oliver Wood of course." They stated in uinson.
Percy shivered, sat outside the doorstep of the burrow. He'd only come to make sure his family was okay through the window but Penny had locked him out of the house. Again. He huddled against the door, trying to forget the throbbing of his cheek bone, it had most definitely already bruised, considering he apparated while it was still bleeding.
He pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to imagine that he was wearing a big coat and warm boots instead of the t-shirt, shorts and socks he was wearing. He watched the snow fall around him and something inside him hoped, hoped that someone would need to come outside for something.
He drifted off slowly, as the mottled bruises on his arms began the blend in with the snow around him.
He didn't even remember what they'd been arguing over this time, maybe he'd asked if he could buy himself a pair of shoes for work. He really should've known better, but it didn't matter so much now. Even outside in the cold, he felt the burrow surround him.
When he finally fell asleep, he didn't hear the door unlock.
"Reckon he's hurt?"
"Reckon he's drunk."
As the Weasleys looked at their estranged brother and son, they came up with all sorts of explanations. Harry and Hermione hanging back towards the kitchen.
"Reckon we should bring him inside, it's freezing out here." Charlie said, with grunt as he lifted his brother off the floor and into the living room. At twenty three, he should way a hell of a lot more, especially at six foot, four inches.
"Well it's one way to accept mum's invitation to dinner, turn up late and covered in blood." George mumbled, as Fred hit his arm lightly. He couldn't do much with his left arm anymore, not after the battle.
"What if he is actually really hurt, think we should wake him up?" Fred whispered, looking at his older brother with more concern than the others.
"You've gone soft, oh twin of mine." George said. "He's probably just drunk and forgot his way home."
Fred shook his head. "In a t-shirt and no shoes? What if he's hurt himself, or someone hurt him?" He stroked Percy's arm gently, as if afraid to hurt him himself. "You know he's not been right since the battle-"
"You mean he's not had a sober day since the battle." Ron cut in. He looked almost angry, if not a touch worried.
"That's not what I meant, he's been sober-"
"Yeah well, you're the only one he talks to anyways." Ron stormed off into the kitchen, coming back with a glass of cold water, only to tip it over his brother.
"Ron!" Bill shouted, pulling his baby brother away from the couch. Percy woke with a start and instantly moved further into the couch, almost cowering in a way, until he realised where he was.
He took a moment to collect himself and then- "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I'm sorry, I'll go." He started until Fred clasped his arm with his good hand.
"No, stay, you've no shoes on." Ron and Ginny didn't look like they appreciated Fred's invitation for him to stay, and neither did George by the look of it.
"No, no it's okay, I can get home-"
"No you can't. Stay, let me clean your cheek up for you." Fred said, as he hobbled on his purple-orange-blue-pink crutch.
Arthur stood back, watching carefully, curious. "What happened, son? Looks like someone whacked you with an old tome."
"It, uh, doesn't matter, my own fault really, silly mistake." He rambled, and jumped when Fred touched his shoulder.
"Here, let me look." Fred couldn't speak louder than a quiet but normal speaking voice, notanymore, not without a throbbing headache.
He turned Percy's face towards him, carefully cleaning the blood away with a warm cloth.
"Here, I can- thank you." Percy whispered, taking the cloth in his own hand and ever so gently the dabbing at the blood. It really fucking hurt. He pulled his knees to his chest once again and rested his chin on them. "I wouldn't ask but would you- would you mind if I stayed here the night? It's okay if not I can-"
"Of course you can, darling. We'd be thrilled to have you stay the night, it's been far, far to long since you've stopped by." Molly interjected. "Your old room is still how it always was."
"Thanks mum."
Arthur didn't mean to spy, he really didn't but he couldn't help himself listening to Fred and Percy when he went downstairs for a drink. He sat on the bottom step and listened. Percy was sat where he had been all night, and Fred in his special arm chair.
"She did this to you, didn't she?"
"She didn't mean to."
Who? Surely not his girlfriend. She was what? Five foot tall, maybe? She only weighed around seven stone.
"What happened this time?"
This time?
"I'd asked if I could maybe save a bit of our money, I need new shoes for work but honestly, what with money being so tight and Penny being out of work, I should've known better."
"So she battered you because you need shoes?"
"No, no, she didn't- she didn't batter me- I fell."
"You're coffee table is not that sharp, you dulled it down because I kept bumping my leg on it."
Why didn't he just ask if he could borrow some money, or a pair of shoes? None of them would've minded. Not at all.
"Why don't you let me give you a long term loan, Perce? You can pay it back when you can, like a year or so."
"No, no, I couldn't Fred. I couldn't take money from you."
"Percy, look at you, how tight is it right now?"
Percy didn't answer, instead, he looked away. He looked ashamed.
"Percy, how tight is it?"
"....I haven't eaten all week."
Arthur wished Percy had told them he was struggling. They could've helped. They can help. Even if he just came by for something to eat. His heart ached at the thought that his son was starving and was too embarrassed to ask for help.
"Let me help, Perce."
"No."
"Let me guess, Penelope-" he spat the name with venom "eats three meals a day."
"She's busy looking for work. She needs the energy."
"And you don't? You're actively working. You're working a high paying job and she's draining your account and leaving you to starve."
"It's not like that."
"It's exactly like that, Perce. She's killing you and you're perfectly fine with it. Where's all that self respect gone? Where's my big brother gone?"
Arthur went back upstairs and wept.