Train Ride
The day Percy is set to leave, the Monday after Molly had seen him and Audrey arguing, he spends all night awake. It hadn’t been easy organizing things in two days, and on the weekend no less. Oliver had been a massive help- he’d organized everything with Percy’s family. Percy was stuck with the finances and the paperwork.
He was nervous. Of course he was nervous. And realistically, he knew that Audrey was at the Wizard Policing convention, but he still kept flinching at every little noise, half expecting her to burst through the door and catch him red-handed with suitcases.
Percy doesn’t even try to sleep; he knows it won’t be an option. After putting the girls to bed, he casts a silencing spell on himself and quietly goes through their belongings, packing their clothes into two charmed suitcases. When he’s emptied their closet, he sorts through their toys and books. Lucy’s got to have Wiggles with her, and Molly’s been attached to this muggle doll of some bat-guy, so he puts those in as well. He’s done in about an hour, and their room looks cleaner than it has in years.
School was something he was worried about, but it should be okay. There was only one week left in the muggle school year- they weren’t open on the weekends, but he drafted a letter giving them permission for a week’s absence. It shouldn’t affect them too much.
Percy goes to his own room opens his old Hogwarts trunk to pack. He hasn’t got many clothes, and that dig about him ironing his socks at his parent’s anniversary party had some merit. He was meticulously organized and kept only a few clothes he kept on rotation. His three dress robes for work, two muggle suits, some cardigans and eight sets of trousers all went into the trunk. His undergarments were next, and then his neatly pressed and color-coded socks, and he was done. His shared wardrobe with Audrey was bare of all his belongings.
He clears out the bathroom, next, taking his toiletries and prescription potions and tucking them into the trunk. Then goes to the bedroom and collects some other odds and ends. His backup glasses and their case. A framed family photo of himself and the girls. A few books.
It could have taken him moments if he had used magic, but instead he uses his hands. There was something comforting about folding his clothes and putting them into the trunk. It feels more solid. More permanent.
Percy collects all their important documents, careful to make copies to leave behind. The ID cards, the girl’s birth records, and copies of the police reports and expired protection order. He tucks them into a black folder and adds it to the top of his trunk.
He drags the three bags to living room and props them up by the door, ready to be taken in the morning. He checks the time- it’s barely three in the morning. He plans to get the girls up and fed by 7, be out the door just after and arrive at the train station 30 minutes before their 8 am train.
Percy ends up cleaning, which is ridiculous. But he hasn’t got anything else to do, and if he stops moving, he’ll be stuck with his thoughts, and he may change his mind. So, he cleans. He washes all the dishes that have piled up in the sink by hand, dries them and puts them away. He sweeps and mops the floor. He polishes the silverware and washes the windows. He organizes the pantry.
Finally, when he sees the sun crest over the horizon from the kitchen window, he puts the kettle on and wakes the girls.
Entering their room, he opens the curtains with a flick of his wand. He gently taps the bed of Molly, who is very much a morning person and the easier one to wake up.
“Molly. Wake up, love.” He says quietly. His daughter mumbles something and opens her eyes, squinting in the morning light.
“Huh?” she asks, her hair a bedraggled mess. Percy smooths it down as Molly blinks the sleep from her eyes.
“We’re going to the Burrow in about an hour.”
She stares up at him in confusion. “We are?”
“Yes, love. C’mon, get ready.”
He feels bad about sort of lying to his children. He thought about telling them that he was leaving their mother, but he was half-worried that one of them would have mentioned it to Audrey by accident, even though she was still away. They were both almost eleven, they weren’t stupid, but it still could have happened.
Molly grumbles something but pulls herself from her bed any and makes her way to the bathroom. She’s taking this routine change very well. Percy almost expected tears.
He goes to Lucy’s bed next, repeating the same gentle tapping motion.
“Lucy, get up. We’re going to Grandma and Grandpa’s.”
She whines and shoves her head into the pillow.
“Five more minutes.” She complains, voice muffled.
“I’ll make you French toast.” He offers.
She pauses. “With blueberries?”
Percy’s not above bribery.
“Yes.” He tells her.
That’s enough to get her moving, so Percy leaves them to get dressed and ready while he makes the offered French toast. He washes some blueberries and adds them to the top of Molly’s.
The girls make their way to the kitchen table and Percy places the plates in front of them. He makes himself a cuppa and joins them at the table.
“Are you not hungry, Daddy?” Molly asks curiously.
“No, sweetie. Not right now.”
He’s much too nervous to eat.
Once the girls are done, he washes the dishes and places them in the cabinets. “Okay, c’mon girls! We’re catching the early train.”
“But we haven’t-,” Lucy starts to say.
“I packed everything last night. No worries there.” Percy finishes quickly. He’s ushering them to the door and handing each of them a suitcase. He picks up his own trunk and turns to look back at the living room once last time. There’s a note that he had scribbled the night before. It had taken him nearly two feet of parchment until he got it right. Well, not right. But passable.
Audrey,
I’m writing this letter with a heavy heart, as it is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. For a long time, I have been struggling with our relationship, trying to find a way to make things work, hoping things would get better. But it has become clear to me that this situation is not sustainable for the well-being of myself or our children.
I want you to understand that this decision did not come lightly. I have tried to hold onto the love and commitment we once had, but the reality is that I can no longer stay in a relationship that is damaging to all of us.
Over time, I have witnessed behavior from you that has been abusive hurtful and controlling. The emotional toll it has taken on me and the girls is unbearable, and I can no longer ignore how it is affecting our family. The hurtful words, the threats, the constant volatility—it’s not just damaging to me but to our girls as well. They deserve to grow up in a safe, loving environment, and I cannot, in good conscience, allow them to continue living amid this chaos.
I’m not leaving because I don’t love you. I am leaving because I love myself our children enough. We cannot continue down this path where our emotional and mental well-being is compromised daily. I know this decision will be difficult, and I’m sure you will have many questions, but I have made up my mind.
Please understand that this is not a decision I make in anger or out of spite, but from a place of wanting a better life for the girls. I will always care for you, but I cannot continue to sacrifice our their happiness and safety.
I will ensure the girls’ transition is as smooth as possible and will make arrangements to see you if you would like to maintain a relationship with them. But I need you to understand that things have changed, and I cannot let this continue any longer.
I wish things could have been different, but this is the reality we are now facing. I hope you can come to understand why I had to make this choice.
Love Take care,
Percy
He goes through a brief moment of panic, when he thinks he should just go back in, unpack their things and pretend like this never happened. But he thinks about Molly’s face, and he steels himself. He shuts the door behind him and locks it, then he and the girls head out to the street.
Percy had called for cab to pick them up, so he’s surprised when he sees a beat-up Crown Victoria sitting at the curb, waiting for them. The driver steps out.
“Aberforth?” Percy asks is disbelief.
Sure as shit, the old coot is there. He’s leaning on the open front door. His great deal of long, stringy grey hair and beard looks as wild as ever, but it looks like he had cleaned his dirty spectacles off, since Percy could see the bright blue eyes behind them without squinting.
“Hello Percy. Get on in.”
“What are you doing here? Did you drive here?” Percy as, completely flabbergasted.
Aberforth looks from the car to Percy and back to the car again.
“Brains like that, you’d be a Death Eater. Of course I drove. Get in, I’m taking you to the train station.”
“How did you-,” Percy starts to say, but Aberforth waves him off, moving to the boot of the car to open it.
“That Wood guy told me you needed a ride to the train station.”
Oliver, then. He must have asked Aberforth to escort Percy and the girls to the train station. He feels himself getting a bit choked up.
“I-,” Percy tries to say, but he finds the words getting stuck in his throat. The old man rolls his eyes and slaps the top of the car.
“Yeah, yeah. Just get in.”
They put their bags in the boot and get into the car. It’s a quick drive to the station, but it feels like it takes hours. As they drive away, Percy looks at the house in the side mirror of the car until it’s just a speck in the distance. Half of him wants to tell Aberforth to stop; to turn the car around so he can put the house together before Audrey gets back. But when he turns around to check on the girls, who are giggling about something or other in the back seat, playing a game with their fingers that involves counting, he finds the courage to stay quiet. He’s a Gryffindor, damn it. He should act like one.
When They get to the station, Aberforth helps him get their bags out of the car and walks with them to the train. When Percy sees it, his heart skips. He should turn around, he should go back-,
“Easy, lad.” Aberforth says. He places a calloused, rough hand on his shoulder. Percy swallows hard as Aberforth pulls him from facing the train to face him.
“Aberforth I should-,” Percy starts to say. The old man squeezes his hand on Percy’s shoulder. The touch is grounding.
“You’re doing the right thing. If not for you, for your girls.” Aberforth says, blue eyes sparkling a bit from behind his glasses. He clears his throat and shifts a little.
“I, uh. I had a son once. Didn’t quite last. But I knew I wanted the best for him when I had him. I want that for you.” The old man says this slowly and painfully, like each word is being dragged out of him like a dentist pulling teeth. The most he’s ever told Percy about his son, and the most emotion he’s ever shown. The man’s discomfort is showing on his face.
“Thank you. You can stop now.”
“Thank Merlin.”
Aberforth withdraws his hand and claps him on the back gruffly. The old coot wasn’t the best at words, but Percy got the message regardless. He had to do this. He had to get on the train with his kids and not look back. The train whistles loudly and an announcement overhead declares it’s the last chance to board.
Percy gets ahold of both of the girls’ hands, one on either side of him. He smiles at them, feeling wobbly.
“Well girls, let’s get going shall we?”