Fight
Harry is able to Floo right to the Ministry of Magic. It’s his day off, so he gets some odd looks from the Welcome Witch since he's in the office when he doesn't need to be, but it’s no trouble at all getting into the building, and then to the elevators.
Merlin, this place still had relaxed security, didn’t it? It’d been almost easy to sneak in here when he had been 17. He’s certain he could do it again if he needed to.
It’s as busy as ever. Various magical creatures flit about—house-elves and goblins bustling on errands, and witches and wizards in robes of all colors hurrying to their destinations, voices blending into a melodic hum of conversation.
It’s a simple hop, skip, and a jump to Percy’s department’s floor. He says hello to Seamus Finnegan, who he knows works with Percy.
“Hiya Harry. You alright? It’s it-,” Seamus starts to say.
“Yeah. I just need to talk to Percy. Do you know if he’s in?”
Seamus shrugs. “Think so. I think he’s hiding from the Americans in his office.
“That sounds familiar.” Harry mumbles. “Thanks.”
“Go on then” Seamus says with the wave of his hand. Harry walks up to Percy’s office door. He can hear muted voice coming from inside. He knocks bluntly on the door. It’s all but three seconds before the door opens.
Percy stands there, his cheeks a bit flushed and red.
“I told you I don’t care about the-,” he putters to a stop when he sees who it is. “Oh, Harry! What are you doing here? Did you and Ginny find Wiggles?”
Harry gives him a tart smile. “Yes, we did. Mind if I talk to you?”
Percy steps back and holds the door open for Harry, allowing him to walk in. He shuts the door behind his brother-in-law. He’s dressed as impeccably as ever, his glasses perched on his nose delicately.
“Have a seat.” Percy offers.
The office is very, very neat. Not that he’d expect anything less from the third Weasley. Every item has its place, from the neatly stacked piles of parchment to the precisely aligned quills and inkpots on the desk. The walls are adorned with certificates and commendations. A few family photos are tucked into one corner, there’s a snapshot of Percy and Audrey’s wedding reception, a family photo that had taken together at the last reunion, and one of his children, smiling brightly at the camera.
Percy walks around the desk to sit in his own high-backed chair. He peers at Harry curiously.
“What’s this about?” he asks, clearly trying to not let panic leech into his tone. “Everyone’s alright?”
Harry nods vigorously. “Yes! Fine, everyone’s fine. Circe, nothing like that. Sorry I should have led with it.”
Percy visibly sags a bit in relief. Harry understands- he can only imagine what Percy had been thinking; his brother-in-law appearing out of nowhere on his day off and asking to speak to you privately.
He feels bad about worrying Percy, and he feels bad for starting to conversation he’s about to have.
“How are you?” Harry asks, trying to keep his tone light and gentle.
Percy gives him a thin smile. “Busy. As usual, of course. Work’s been demanding.”
“The Americans?”
Percy sniffs. “The Americans. Rowdy lot. They’ve never heard of a professional office it seems.”
Harry nods. “I can only imagine.” He swallows. “Right. So, Percy. Erm, there’s something I need to talk to you about. And I want you to know that I’m not here to… to judge you or push you. I just want to help.”
His brother-in-law’s face shifts from something easy and casual to solemn. Something wary passes through his eyes.
“Help? With what?"
Harry hesitates for just a moment. “When Ginny and I were looking for Wiggles, we accidently found some paperwork.”
He reaches into his pocket and unshrinks the black folder with a wave of his wand. Harry sets it on the desk in front of Percy. His brother in-law's face drains of all color rather rapidly.
“It was an accident. We read it before we knew what it was. And Ginny’s worried,”
And murderously bloodthirsty, Harry thinks privately and purposefully does not say out loud.
“And I am, too.”
Percy sits back in his chair, his face tightening. He shakes his head, seemingly trying to dismiss it.
“It’s nothing, Harry. Really. Audrey and I- we argue sometimes. It’s normal in any marriage. We get loud, sure, but people get the wrong idea.”
Harry looks him up and down. Percy’s hands are trembling slightly. Harry can tell- it's the giveaway that maybe he isn’t as composed about all of this like he wanted to be.
“I know relationships can be hard. Look who I’m married to.”
Percy cracks a small smile.
“But it’s not just about arguments or yelling. There are police reports, Percy. Four of them. People have seen you hurt. This isn’t something you should have to handle on your own.”
Percy’s lips press into a hard, thin line, his eyes darting away from Harry’s. “Audrey doesn’t mean to… hurt me.” He says quietly. “She’s just under a lot of pressure. It’s been hard for her. She’s in counseling.”
“That doesn’t excuse what’s happening. You don’t have to justify anything.”
“I’m not justifying anything,” Percy says, sounding almost strangled. “I know what it looks like, but it’s not as bad as people think. Audrey- she’s not a monster. She doesn’t want-,” he huffs out a breath. “I can handle it.”
Harry heart physically pains him. He remembers what that thought process was like. First, you’d make excuses, then you’d try harder, and once you’d accepted that was the way things were going to be, you’d tell yourself that you could handle. It’s like Harry is six years old, trembling as his uncle got a belt.
“I’m not saying Audrey’s a monster, Percy. I’m sure she loves you. But that doesn’t make it okay. You shouldn’t have to handle it, least of all not alone. You don’t deserve it.”
For a moment, Percy is silent, his eyes locked on the floor. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.
“I don’t need help, Harry. This is my marriage. I made vows to her. I’m not going to abandon her just because things get difficult.”
Harry purses his lips. “I’m not asking you to abandon her,” he says as gentle as he’s able “I’m asking you to take care of yourself. Myabe you two can go to couple's counseling. I just- you need to let someone help you, even if that means talking to someone outside of the family. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
Without warning, Percy stands up. He turns his back to Harry, back railroad straight. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t want help. Not from you, not from anyone. Audrey and I- we’ll work it out.”
Harry stands as well, fighting against the urge to push any further. As well as the urge to grab Percy by the shoulders and start shaking him to get him to see some sense.
“Okay,” Harry says quietly. “I won’t push you. But I’m here if you ever need to talk. You know that, right? Ginny, too. Or Charlie or Bill, or anyone else.”
Percy nods, though he doesn’t turn around. “I know. Thank you, Harry.”
The silence that falls between them stretches, heavy and unresolved. Harry knows that Percy wasn’t ready to accept any help, but he also knows that he couldn’t just walk away and pretend that everything was fine. He made a quiet vow; he’d stay close, keep an eye on things, and hope that one day, preferably soon, Percy would be ready.
He walks around the desk and places a gentle hand on Percy’s shoulder as a quiet reminder.
“Take care of yourself, Percy. And if you need anything- anything at all, just let me know.”
Percy doesn’t turn, or even look up, but he nods. “I will.”
Harry withdraws his hand and walks out of Percy’s office. He couldn’t force this, any of this. Even if he really, really wanted to.
Now he just needs to figure out what to tell Ginny.
“Audrey, I think we need to go to counseling.” Percy says as soon as his wife walks in the door.
He knows this isn’t the right time, or the right place, but he’s hanging on by a thread. Harry-freaking-Potter walking into his office and confronting him about the police reports, which he had STUPIDLY saved, had been a bit of shock. Even more shocking, or perhaps more pressing, was that Ginny now knew. Which means if he can’t get this resolved, then he’d be picking up his sister from jail where she’d face attempted murder charges.
“What?” Audrey asks, clearly blindsided. Percy feels a bit bad about it. She hasn’t even been able to take off her jacket or unpack her suitcase from her work trip to Milan.
“I think we need to go to counseling.”
She tilts her head and takes off her jacket, hanging it casually on the hook by the door. “I’m in counseling.”
Percy sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He’s not looking forwards to this.
“I know. But both of us. I think we need to see a marriage counselor.”
She blinks a few times and scoffs at him. It’s like she’s trying to figure out what to say next.
“Marriage counseling? We’re fine, Percy.”
‘We’re not.” He says firmly. He can’t back away from this.
“I know we argue, but doesn’t every couple?”
He shakes his head at her. She ignores him and walks through the hallway into the kitchen. He follows her. It’s early afternoon, but she rummages through the cabinets and finds a bottle of wine which she uncorks with a wave of her wand.
“Not like us.” Percy says, shaking his head. He watches as she finds a wine glass and pours a rather large serving.
“We’re fine, Percy. We don’t need some-, some stranger critiquing our relationship.” She takes a long sip from her glass.
“We’re not fine. This isn’t normal.”
“Of course it’s normal! Couples fight. You’re overreacting like you always do.”
“No, I’m not!”
“We’re fine.” She says in a tone that means she wants the conversation to be over.
“What about after I forgot to put the girl’s lunch in their bag, and you threw a bowl at me? Or when you pushed me, and I hit my head when you were upset about randomly running into Oliver?”
“That was-,”
“Or what about when you embarrassed me in front of my family at my parent’s wedding anniversary? Or when you told me to stop spending time with Penelope because you’re somehow insanely jealous of my best friend?”
She rolls her eyes. “Here we go,”
“What? What does that mean?”
“You’re doing it again.” She waves a casual hand in his direction, the other gripping the stem of the wine glass tightly.
“Playing the victim again.”
Percy’s heart stutters. He wants to fight back, to argue that he really is the victim in this, but that can’t be entirely true, right?
When he doesn’t reply, she scoffs. “Why are you always bringing up old shit, Percy?”
“I’m not always-,”
“You’re the one with the problem here, not me.”
“Of course I have a problem!” he explodes, his voice rising. “You push me, you hurt me, you make me feel horrible. You constantly talk down to me. I’m not happy, Audrey! I’m not.”
She stills suddenly, and Percy wonders if this was a very, very bad idea. He licks his lips nervously.
“And i-if you don’t agree. I’m leaving you.”
She stares at him and gets that odd blank look on her face that Percy has learned to recognize as a mask of rage.
“Excuse me?” she says in a hushed voice.
“If you don’t agree to counseling, I’m leaving you. And I’m taking the girls.”
Without warning, she hurls the wine glass at his head.
Unlike with the bowl, he can’t duck. It collides with his face and shatters, sending shards of glass and red wine everywhere. Percy hunches over, and falls to his knees, desperately trying to wipe as much glass away from his eyes as he can.
“Do not,” she says in a low voice, breathing hard. “Threaten me with my children.”
“Audrey-,”
This had been a very, very bad idea. He shouldn’t have given her this ultimatum. He should have brought someone with him. Why didn’t he just take Harry up on his offer?
He reaches blindly, unable to open his eyes, for his wand. He’s got to get the glass out of his eyes. Percy feels the wand just under his fingertips, but before he can get a grip, her foot is colliding with his hand. He feels something crunch, and the wand soars away from his grasp. He lets out a gasp of pain as the nerves in his hand shoot fire that radiates up his arms. He falls flat on his stomach on the floor and curls in on himself.
Percy desperately cradles his hand to his chest, trying to decide between attempting to get the wine and glass out of his eyes or gripping his very obviously broken hand.
“Audrey!” he exclaims, panic leeching through his voice. “Look at yourself! Look at what you’re doing!” he pleads.
“I’m like this because of you!You just threatened to take my children away!"
Percy groans, unable to open his eyes. He can feel specs of glass under his eyes, and even though he has his eyes shut he can feel them burning from the acidic wine which had splashed into his face. He’s wet, but he’s not sure if it’s his own blood or the wine. He can’t even tell if he’s bleeding.
“This! This is why! You make me like this, Percy!”
All the sudden, there’s another kick, right into his injured hand. He feels her boot make contact and the pain becomes unbearable. He swears he can feel the bones shift and grind against one another. Then comes another kick, square into his chest. And another.
Percy feels very floaty, all the sudden, despite the pain that is lancing up his arm and across his face like he’d been shocked. He’s feeling almost detached from himself, going numb. He loses himself for a few moments in a greyish haze. He thinks his wife might be yelling but he can’t tell. All he hears is ringing.
When he comes back to himself pain is shooting through him like lighting. The kitchen is quiet, the only sound his rasping breaths echoing off the walls.
“Audrey?” he calls out, his voice hoarse and rough. There’s no reply. It hits him then- she’d left. She’d blinded him and broke his hand and left him on the floor of their kitchen. The kitchen where he’d made her a birthday cake, the kitchen where their children ate. In the home that they’d built together.
He feels like shattering.