St. Mungo's
Charlie had promised Percy he wouldn’t leave, but watching as Percy fell unconscious, he couldn’t bear to just stand there as the healers worked on him. Percy looked awful- he had been covered in blood and what smelled like wine. There had been dozens of tiny cuts on his face and his hands where small pieces of glass had been embedded into his pale skin. There was also a nasty looking cut above his left eyebrow that was bleeding sluggishly.
His eyes, which were shut, were somehow bulging under thin skin and bright red. If Percy was still, Charlie could swear he could see chunks of glass resting just behind his eyelids. He didn’t want to think about how much pain Percy must be in. Worst of all had been his hand- it was black and blue, his middle and index finger bent at an awkward angle.
“Take care of him?” Charlie asks. Healer Melissa nods and shoos him out of the room. Charlie is left alone in the hallway, his ears buzzing.
He knew it. He had known it, from that first time he had stopped by, and Percy had that black eye. But he hadn’t said anything, he had let himself be convinced that everything was fine, and now Percy was in the hospital.
He allows himself a full 60 seconds of emotion- grief, panic, anger and tears. There was a lot of unpack here.
But first, he needs to tell their parents what happened.
Charlie stands outside the Burrow, staring at the crooked, familiar house that had been his home for so many years. The air is cool, a gentle breeze rustling the nearby trees. He can hear the shouts of children playing.
His heart pounds in his chest, his stomach twisted in knots. He needs to prepare himself for the conversation he never thought he’d have to have.
Telling his parents that Percy was in St Mungo’s was hard enough. But the reason? That was nearly unbearable. Especially because of what he knew before. He should have done something the day he came over and Percy had a black eye. But Percy had assured him it was fine, and he had seemed so convincing. Maybe Charlie hadn’t wanted to face it.
Then again, hearing about what happened at Mum and Dad’s anniversary party from George. He should have done something. He should have pushed a little more.
The Burrow is quiet as he steps inside. He can see the twins playing outside in the garden, hocking gnomes. It’s late afternoon, and he can hear the faint clatter of dishes being washed in the kitchen. The steady, comforting rhythm of home, of normalcy, feels worlds apart from the chaos Percy had been living in. And they had no idea. None at all.
Charlie walks toward the kitchen, his footsteps feeling heavier with each step. When he reaches the doorway, he sees his mother standing by the sink, her wand flicking lazily as the dishes cleaned themselves. His father sits at the table, leafing through a copy of The Daily Prophet, his brow furrowed in quiet concentration, a cup of tea in front of him.
They look so peaceful. So unaware. Charlie feels awful he’s the one to disturb this peace.
Charlie clears his throat, and both of his parents look up, smiles lighting their faces as they saw him.
“Charlie!” Mum exclaims, setting the dishes aside and moving toward him. She embraces him tightly, as though he hadn’t just been there a week ago. “What a surprise, dear! We weren’t expecting you.”
Dad smiles warmly from his seat. “Everything all right with the book?”
Charlie’s throat tightens He hadn’t even thought about the book. He wasn’t here to talk about his work. He was here to shatter their world.
“Mum, Dad,” Charlie begins, pulling back from his mother’s embrace. “We need to talk. It’s about Percy.”
Dad’s smile fades, replaced quickly by a look of concern. Mum’s brow furrows as she reaches for Charlie’s arm. “What is it, Charlie? Is he all right?”
Charlie takes a deep breath, his chest feeling like it might collapse under the weight of what he was about to say.
“Percy’s… He’s in St Mungo’s.”
The color drains from Mum’s face, and Dad stands up, the newspaper forgotten. “In St Mungo’s?” he repeats, his voice low and tense. “What happened? Is he hurt? Did something happen at work? What about the girls?”
Charlie nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “He’s hurt. But it’s not…it’s not what you think. He’s not hurt from work. It’s…personal.”
Should he even tell them why he’s in hospital? Should he let Percy tell them? Would Percy even tell them, or if given the chance would he lie through his teeth like he’s been doing for who-knows how long.
Mum’s eyes widen, her hand covering her mouth. “Personal? What do you mean?”
Charlie struggles to find the words, his pulse racing in his ears. He feels like he’s rehearsed this a thousand times in his head since dropping Percy off, but now, standing in front of them, the reality of it feels so much worse. He looks from his mother to his father, and the disbelief in their eyes only makes it harder.
“It’s Audrey,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s been…hurting him. For a while now.”
Dad’s face pales, his eyes going wide behind his reading glasses. “Hurting him?” he echoes, as if he couldn’t quite grasp the meaning of the words. “What do you mean?”
Charlie winces.
“Hitting him. Throwing things. I mean, really, really hitting him.”
Mum staggers back, her hand still over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. “No…no, that can’t be right. Audrey…she would never…” Her voice breaks, and she stares at Charlie, silently pleading for him to say that it wasn’t true.
“I didn’t believe it at first, either” Charlie says, his voice thick with emotion. “A while ago I went to their place for drinks, and he had a black eye. He me it was nothing, and then he didn’t want anyone to know. But it’s been happening for years, Mum. And it’s gotten worse. She—” Charlie’s voice falters, the words catching in his throat. “She’s been abusing him.”
Mum lets out a sob, collapsing into the nearest chair. Dad’s face is a mixture of shock and horror, and he sat down slowly, as if the weight of Charlie’s words had knocked the wind out of him.
“But…why?” Dad finally manages to ask, his voice rough. “Why didn’t he tell us? Why didn’t we see it?”
Charlie shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Dad. I don’t think…. Maybe he didn’t want to admit that something like this was happening to him. I think he thought he could fix it, or that it would get better if he just tried harder. “
Mum sobs into her hands, her whole body shaking with grief. “My poor boy…my poor, sweet Percy.”
Charlie moves to his mother’s side, kneeling next to her and taking her hand in his. “Mum, he’s safe now. He’s in St Mungo’s. They’re taking care of him, and he’s getting the help he needs. But…it’s going to be a long road for him. He’s not the same.”
Dad is silent, staring at the table in disbelief. “I never…I never would have thought,” he murmurs almost to himself. “How could we not see it?”
Charlie’s heart nearly breaks at the sight of his father, who had always been a pillar of strength, now looking so lost, so helpless. “He didn’t want us to see it,” Charlie says softly. “He hid it from everyone. But now that we know, we can help him. We can be there for him.”
Mum wipes at her tears, her face red and puffy. “I want to see him,” she whispers. “I want to go to him, to let him know we’re here. That we love him.”
Charlie nods. “I’ll take you there, Mum. We’ll all go. But we need to be careful with him. He’s been through so much. He’s going to need time.”
Dad finally looks up, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “We’ll be there for him,” he says, his voice trembling. “No matter how long it takes. Percy’s our son. We’ll get him through this.”
Charlie nods. They’ll get Percy through this, even if his brother is going to be kicking and screaming the entire way.
When Percy wakes up, the first thing he notices is something wrapped tightly around his head, covering his eyes. He panics, briefly, wondering if he’s gone blind. He reaches for it.
“It’s okay Percy. They’re bandages.” Comes his brother’s voice. Then he feels his hands on his own, gently guiding him away from the bandages covering his eyes.
“What-,” Percy starts to say, feeling groggy.
“You’re in St. Mungo’s. You called me. Do you remember?”
He regrettably does.
“There was glass in your eyes. They had to remove it, but your corneas were scratched up. Don’t worry, with modern magic you’ll be back to sight in no time. You also had two fractured ribs, and your right hand was broken.”
“I figured.” Percy says dryly.
“How are you feeling, dear?’ comes a warm voice. Percy should have felt comforted by it, but instead his heart drops into his stomach.
“Mum?”
Before she can answer, Percy turns his head blindly to where he thought Charlie had been standing.
“You told them?”
“Percy, I had to-,”
“No, you didn’t! You didn’t-, no one was supposed to-,”
“What, know? Know that your wife was beating the shite out of you? That she’s been treating you horribly?”
“That is not true.” Percy says sternly.
“Yes, it is Percy! She threw glass in your eyes for Merlin’s sake, and then she left you to pick up the pieces!”
“You didn’t have any right to bring Mum and Dad into this. I hate you!”
“I DON’T CARE!” His brother roars. He hears his mum drawn in a sharp breath. The room goes dead quiet, except for Charlie.
“I don’t care if you didn’t want me to tell them. I don’t care that you hate me. You can never talk to me again for as long as we both live. I don’t care. You need help.”
Percy, unable to see, shacked up in a hospital bed with a broken hand and glass in his eyes, can only grit his teeth. “Where are the girls?”
“At the Burrow,” Mum answers. “Harry and Ginny are watching them.”
Percy groans. There’s the biggest ‘I-told-you-so’ if he’s ever seen one. His reaction must give more than he’d like away, because Charlie barks out a sharp, dry laugh.
“They knew?”
“No!” Percy says quickly. “Or, just recently. They found some paperwork this morning.”
“Paperwork?” Dad asks. “What paperwork?”
Percy bites his lip. Screw it, he’d been caught. In for a penny, or whatever the saying was.
“Erm, some… reports. Police reports. Muggle police reports.”
“Police reports?”
“Our neighbors are nosy! They called the police every time we argued. It’s fine”
Charlie lets out a bitter, humorless laugh. Percy can feel the heat in his own cheeks. This was beyond embarrassing- it was downright humiliating. He was Percy-fucking-Weasley. He was a prefect, a head boy, top of his class and now top of his department. He should have handle on this, his own family, his own wife. And now he’s sitting in a hospital bed with his parents and his brother prying into his marriage.
“Percy, you’ve got to be kidding me. She’s abusing you.”
“No, she’s not.” He says through grit teeth.
Mum clears her throat. “Well, we’ll go to you place and pack your things-,”
“Wait, wait. What- pack my things?”
There’s a beat of silence.
“Percy, I swear to-,’ Charlie starts to say.
“I’m not leaving her. She’s…my wife. Arguments aren’t going to change that.”
“She put you in the fucking hospital!” Charlie shouts. “Are you serious, Percy? Look at yourself? She’s going to kill you at this rate.”
“I-,” Percy starts to say, feeling off center.
“This is ridiculous-, no, get off!”
Percy’s not sure what’s happening, but he can hear the seething rage in Charlie’s voice, the sounds of a scuffle, and then the door opening. Had Mum or Dad tried to stop him from leaving?
“I’ll talk to him.” He hears Dad say, and there’s more footsteps. Then the room the quiet again, only for the sound of his mother’s breathing.
“Percy-,” she starts to say.
‘Don’t, Mum.” His voice cracks. “Just don’t. Not right now.”
He can hear the pause in her breathing, and then a small sigh.
“Okay, Percy.” She says gently. “Get some rest. Just… think-, I mean…”
Another small sigh.
“I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Percy leans back in bed and pretends to sleep.