Chapter 1. of new story. has no title at the moment.
Title:(unknown)
Chapter title: Dreaming Into Walls.
Rating: Unknown right now.
Pairing: PW/ HP
Summary: ... I was thinking that there needs to be a harry/percy fic from harry's side of it. so i have him as the narrator in a second person viewpoint and as the scared kid i think he would be at the prospect of the war.
Chapter fic. Just for fun. and because i love making percy a little more human.
Also unedited. i wrote it in a hurry last night. and just wanted to post it to my LJ. no where else at the moment.
-----------------------------
There are a couple of reasons why the Weasley family broke as they did.
Harry seen them as an outside observer to this family of bright redheads. He seen them and made no comment since it wasn’t his business.
Respectfully he felt their pain at the curly redheads sudden angry departure. He felt their pain and anguish… yet the more he thought about it to himself. The less it seemed complicated.
When Harry leaves the Dursley’s he knows that he won’t look back. They won’t look at him. He’ll have hateful memories that will stay with him for the rest of his life. But the Dursley’s won’t have that. They’ll keep the only son they wanted picture on the wall and forget he even exsited.
And that was fine by Harry. He didn’t need to have the Dursley’s in his life.
But he thinks that with the Weasely’s that they do need all of them together.
It feels empty when they walk around and talk and there’s no one in the corner disapproving or saying vigils that no one else fully agrees.
It’s not Harry’s place to say anything.
------------------
There’s a slight chill in the room that Harry’s sleeping in.
As he turns to find a more comfortable place he wonders if in this small room there are dreams in the walls that no one but Percy could have dreamt.
He wonders if there’s not dark secrets that he could steal from the corners of this dark room.
He wonders if there’s not a word that he could speak in order to reveal the images of those dreams that are only known to one person.
Would they be dark and painful like his are?
Or would they be blank as the snow sparkling in November?
His pitch black hair is splayed messily on the peach pillow as his green emerald eyes pierce through the darkness of the night.
---------------------------------------------
“Only that Git didn’t show up for Bill’s wedding.” Despite the smile that George has on his face the bitterness of his tone is sharp in it’s hurt.
Yet the identical redhead grins that same crazy grin.
Harry had never thought that he would be around for the day that the Twins would need to fake their humour.
He turns his head from what could be a slightly awkward situation. Drinking in the coolness of thick milk.
He wonders when the Weasley’s turned so cold.
It shouldn’t matter to him.
But as he begins his life, without hope for the future. Without family whom he could call upon with his hopes, dreams…
He’s seventeen.
He’s supposed to be in his final year at Hogwarts.
He’s supposed to be the boyfriend of a girl whose presence makes him feel like he has some part of himself together.
But he doesn’t have any of that.
Harry Potter believes that the Weasley’s deserve some of that.
He believes that the Weasley’s deserve to have some part of them together. As they had always been.
However, as he stares into the cracked mirror seeing the blue bruises under his eyes, he realizes that some things won’t fix themselves or go away.
Sometimes when things are broken, they’ll stay broken until you find some other use for it.
---------------------------------
When he looks down at his fingers he thinks they are stubby. Neville’s fingers are longer even though his hand seems smaller.
He doesn’t want them scary long like Voldemort, Dumbledore or Snape.
Percy’s pale fingers were long and reminded Harry of a pianist. One that came to his Muggle school when he was eight.
He thought that the music was beautiful and that woman with the talent to make him smile was like one of those angels.
He wonders if angels could exist.
-------------------------
He feels like tearing at his skin. With the fork by the plate of food he’s yet to touch.
There’s no one in the kitchen with him. He only just got back.
He gets this feeling that everyone is thinking he’s doing something when he’s gone all day.
He gets this pain in his chest when he thinks of telling them he’s not doing anything but walking.
Walking
He wonders what would happen if he just walked away from it all.
“Oh, is it too cold for you dear?” Mrs. Weasley’s eyes are the same brown as Percy’s. Just as passionate and compassionate. Or so Harry thinks he remembers.
He smiles, sits up and declares in what sounds like his normal voice.
“It’s perfect.”
------------------------------------
He’s tried to tell himself that talking to someone won’t help him. Because he’s never wanted to talk to anyone…
Not about something like this.
But he wants to have the same thing he had for those two short years.
He wants to have that person who’s constant and won’t change their views. Thinking that he’s a monster.
He’s scared.
His eyes tear up at night as he stares at the hidden dreams in the walls and wishes to the Gods that this isn’t happening to him.
The warmth of those tears leave stains on the pillow, the salt on his lips become too much as he tries to hold his shudders.
He wants to talk to someone.
Someone who’s not going to tell him that’s it’s going to be alright. Someone who’s not going to hold him. Someone who is going to allow him his anger and his selfishness. Someone who will sit there and say nothing as he smashes his head to the table or bites a hole into his arm.
He wishes he wasn’t so scared.
--------------------------------
“Hello, Percy.” Harry’s sure that this is completely unexpected.
To both of them.
The brown eyes behind the horn rims are like Mrs. Weasley’s in that they never lose their expression. They stay calm even throughout the biggest onslaughts given to them.
Percy’s soft chin dips down in a nod and he steps aside.
Harry enters smelling an odd citrus smell.
He doesn’t pay any attention to the décor, instead just turns around to face his host.
Harry can see that Percy’s back is tense and he’s in quite a hyper mode for confrontation.
But Harry’s not interested in that.
He just wants to sit. They don’t even need to talk right now.
Percy’s red curls sway slightly without the gel that surly must hold it in place usually. His body seems more grown up in a soft sky blue shirt and grey trousers. The robes always seemed to billow around him creating this child dressing in his father’s work clothes.
Harry wonders if Percy ever did dress up like his dad and go around pretending to be the Minster for Magic.
Harry used to want to be an astronaut.
He wanted to see if Neptune was really that beautiful, and whether such a pretty place could be where all the people who could like him would be.
He told the teacher in class one day and he laughed ruffling his hair even though the other kids said you can’t have glasses to be an astronaut.
“Would you like some tea?” Harry nods. There’s a couch right behind him. He sits on it as he hears Percy puttering around behind him.
When Percy puts the cup on the coffee table, he says nothing to Harry’s tears and soft cries. Takes his place right beside Harry. Listening to soft music on the radio.
-------------------------------------
They sit and don’t need to talk. Harry curls up on his side of the couch and watches the shadows dance on the wall as the days go by.
Percy’s sometimes there. Though not until later on.
He never locks the door and Harry lets himself in.
He has coffee ready and sometimes a snack when Percy comes in. They sit on the couch and sometimes just listen to the silence.
Harry leaves and goes to the Burrow later on in the evening and does his dance around them. Until bed, where he sits and stares at the walls.
It’s a Thursday that has him packing his bags and waiting for the awakening sounds of the Burrow to tell them that he won’t be staying.
He doesn’t feel conflicted about this.
He doesn’t feel guilty as he stares at these walls and thinks of nothing.
He loves the Burrow. The best times of his life were born on this plot of land. The warmest feelings in his heart come from here.
But it’s just not for right now
Harry knows that no one is going to fully understand.
He also knows that they will give him whatever freedom he needs right now.
Percy doesn’t say anything to Harry when he shows up with his one small bag of belongings.
Just conquers up a pillow and blanket for Harry when he goes to bed.
Harry doesn’t have to lie about this being alright. He wouldn’t even if he could. When Mrs. Weasley heartbreakingly asked him where he was going to go, he shrugged and leaned over to peck her on the cheeks. He didn’t look anyone in the eye and didn’t say anything when Ron tried to grab at his arm.
Percy.
Harry knows that Percy doesn’t understand all this. They were never close and don’t know anything about each other.
But they also know that they don’t need to know anything about each other to know that this is fine.
“What would you do?” Harry’s hand is muffling his voice as he sits curled into a ball on the side of the couch.
Percy stops his ruffling around with his papers. His head titled thoughtfully to the side as he meets Harry’s eyes.
“I would leap, not hesitating with a jump.” Harry doesn’t say anything continuing to stare at Percy when he turns back to his papers. There’s a big curl near the back of his ear that uncurls and curls back.
----------------------------------------------
Harry finds he can’t sleep here as well as he thought he could.
Instead of staring into walls he finds himself lost into the chipped corner of the coffee table in front of him.
He wishes he could figure it all out.
But he doesn’t know what the question he’s being asked is?
He hears Percy’s bed springs squeak as he gets up to use the toilet.
He lifts his head for when Percy comes out.
Instead of going back to his room, Percy goes into the kitchen and takes something out of the freezer and the smell of hot chocolate has Harry enamoured.
They sit side by side on the couch breathing in the smell of hot chocolate and slight coldness of the strawberry ice cream Percy brought out.
Harry throws his comforter over both of them. Jumping when he encounter’s Percy’s icy toes, smiling softly at Percy when he snorts some of the ice cream up his nose.
Near morning Harry ends up following Percy to his bed for the two hours before Percy goes to work.
---------------------------------------
In the mornings when Harry wakes up he smells in that citrus smell.
He doesn’t know where it comes from. He knows it’s not from Percy, because Percy smells like the rain and the paper smell of a new book.
He gets up from Percy’s bed and goes around to investigate.
This would be the first day that the black haired young man would show a real interest in the apartment.
Looking into every crook and cranny he can find. Seeing that the furniture is mismatched in a tasteful array that reminds him of the Burrow.
He finds that Percy’s sloppy when it comes to his paperwork. And his socks.
He sees that Percy loves junk food. His favourite chewy cherry candies, judging by the amount.
He sees that Percy has a small little garden outside his front window.
The radio is Muggle.
But of a really bad model in Harry’s opinion.
He finds food to make and creates what he thinks will be a great dinner.
He goes to visit the Burrow on a day that it rains in London and shines in St. Owlery.
He says this to Mrs. Weasley with a nearly forgotten smile. His eyes are softer and the bags under his eyes are no longer something to worry about.
He laughs and smiles and talks in ways that he hasn’t been able to for a very long time. He forgets that he is the Boy- Who- Lived and is Just Harry.
Even though his best friends are not there, the day is passed pleasantly.
Harry and Percy have gotten to the point where they can talk to each other.
With Percy answering random questions that Harry never really got to ask before.
Harry learns things about politics and a wide range of things he probably would have never thought of knowing.
He sometimes jokes that knowing all this pointless information takes up too much room that could be used for other things.
Percy just quirks an eyebrow.
Which makes Harry laugh.
---------------------------
Harry will still have those nights where he can’t sleep and he’ll stare down the ceiling and wish for something else to happen.
Percy will turn over in his sleep and his breath will create shivers down Harry’s spine.
Harry will stare at Percy when he’s sleeping. At the soft flutter of those near blonde eyelashes. At the paleness of his skin and the freckles that are not the shocking ones of the other Weasley’s.
Sometimes he’ll play with one of the curls or run his fingertip on those cherub lips.
If Percy wakes up to this he looks at Harry for moment, before getting up to go to work.
Harry sometimes wonders what would happen if he kissed him.
Chapter title: Dreaming Into Walls.
Rating: Unknown right now.
Pairing: PW/ HP
Summary: ... I was thinking that there needs to be a harry/percy fic from harry's side of it. so i have him as the narrator in a second person viewpoint and as the scared kid i think he would be at the prospect of the war.
Chapter fic. Just for fun. and because i love making percy a little more human.
Also unedited. i wrote it in a hurry last night. and just wanted to post it to my LJ. no where else at the moment.
-----------------------------
There are a couple of reasons why the Weasley family broke as they did.
Harry seen them as an outside observer to this family of bright redheads. He seen them and made no comment since it wasn’t his business.
Respectfully he felt their pain at the curly redheads sudden angry departure. He felt their pain and anguish… yet the more he thought about it to himself. The less it seemed complicated.
When Harry leaves the Dursley’s he knows that he won’t look back. They won’t look at him. He’ll have hateful memories that will stay with him for the rest of his life. But the Dursley’s won’t have that. They’ll keep the only son they wanted picture on the wall and forget he even exsited.
And that was fine by Harry. He didn’t need to have the Dursley’s in his life.
But he thinks that with the Weasely’s that they do need all of them together.
It feels empty when they walk around and talk and there’s no one in the corner disapproving or saying vigils that no one else fully agrees.
It’s not Harry’s place to say anything.
------------------
There’s a slight chill in the room that Harry’s sleeping in.
As he turns to find a more comfortable place he wonders if in this small room there are dreams in the walls that no one but Percy could have dreamt.
He wonders if there’s not dark secrets that he could steal from the corners of this dark room.
He wonders if there’s not a word that he could speak in order to reveal the images of those dreams that are only known to one person.
Would they be dark and painful like his are?
Or would they be blank as the snow sparkling in November?
His pitch black hair is splayed messily on the peach pillow as his green emerald eyes pierce through the darkness of the night.
---------------------------------------------
“Only that Git didn’t show up for Bill’s wedding.” Despite the smile that George has on his face the bitterness of his tone is sharp in it’s hurt.
Yet the identical redhead grins that same crazy grin.
Harry had never thought that he would be around for the day that the Twins would need to fake their humour.
He turns his head from what could be a slightly awkward situation. Drinking in the coolness of thick milk.
He wonders when the Weasley’s turned so cold.
It shouldn’t matter to him.
But as he begins his life, without hope for the future. Without family whom he could call upon with his hopes, dreams…
He’s seventeen.
He’s supposed to be in his final year at Hogwarts.
He’s supposed to be the boyfriend of a girl whose presence makes him feel like he has some part of himself together.
But he doesn’t have any of that.
Harry Potter believes that the Weasley’s deserve some of that.
He believes that the Weasley’s deserve to have some part of them together. As they had always been.
However, as he stares into the cracked mirror seeing the blue bruises under his eyes, he realizes that some things won’t fix themselves or go away.
Sometimes when things are broken, they’ll stay broken until you find some other use for it.
---------------------------------
When he looks down at his fingers he thinks they are stubby. Neville’s fingers are longer even though his hand seems smaller.
He doesn’t want them scary long like Voldemort, Dumbledore or Snape.
Percy’s pale fingers were long and reminded Harry of a pianist. One that came to his Muggle school when he was eight.
He thought that the music was beautiful and that woman with the talent to make him smile was like one of those angels.
He wonders if angels could exist.
-------------------------
He feels like tearing at his skin. With the fork by the plate of food he’s yet to touch.
There’s no one in the kitchen with him. He only just got back.
He gets this feeling that everyone is thinking he’s doing something when he’s gone all day.
He gets this pain in his chest when he thinks of telling them he’s not doing anything but walking.
Walking
He wonders what would happen if he just walked away from it all.
“Oh, is it too cold for you dear?” Mrs. Weasley’s eyes are the same brown as Percy’s. Just as passionate and compassionate. Or so Harry thinks he remembers.
He smiles, sits up and declares in what sounds like his normal voice.
“It’s perfect.”
------------------------------------
He’s tried to tell himself that talking to someone won’t help him. Because he’s never wanted to talk to anyone…
Not about something like this.
But he wants to have the same thing he had for those two short years.
He wants to have that person who’s constant and won’t change their views. Thinking that he’s a monster.
He’s scared.
His eyes tear up at night as he stares at the hidden dreams in the walls and wishes to the Gods that this isn’t happening to him.
The warmth of those tears leave stains on the pillow, the salt on his lips become too much as he tries to hold his shudders.
He wants to talk to someone.
Someone who’s not going to tell him that’s it’s going to be alright. Someone who’s not going to hold him. Someone who is going to allow him his anger and his selfishness. Someone who will sit there and say nothing as he smashes his head to the table or bites a hole into his arm.
He wishes he wasn’t so scared.
--------------------------------
“Hello, Percy.” Harry’s sure that this is completely unexpected.
To both of them.
The brown eyes behind the horn rims are like Mrs. Weasley’s in that they never lose their expression. They stay calm even throughout the biggest onslaughts given to them.
Percy’s soft chin dips down in a nod and he steps aside.
Harry enters smelling an odd citrus smell.
He doesn’t pay any attention to the décor, instead just turns around to face his host.
Harry can see that Percy’s back is tense and he’s in quite a hyper mode for confrontation.
But Harry’s not interested in that.
He just wants to sit. They don’t even need to talk right now.
Percy’s red curls sway slightly without the gel that surly must hold it in place usually. His body seems more grown up in a soft sky blue shirt and grey trousers. The robes always seemed to billow around him creating this child dressing in his father’s work clothes.
Harry wonders if Percy ever did dress up like his dad and go around pretending to be the Minster for Magic.
Harry used to want to be an astronaut.
He wanted to see if Neptune was really that beautiful, and whether such a pretty place could be where all the people who could like him would be.
He told the teacher in class one day and he laughed ruffling his hair even though the other kids said you can’t have glasses to be an astronaut.
“Would you like some tea?” Harry nods. There’s a couch right behind him. He sits on it as he hears Percy puttering around behind him.
When Percy puts the cup on the coffee table, he says nothing to Harry’s tears and soft cries. Takes his place right beside Harry. Listening to soft music on the radio.
-------------------------------------
They sit and don’t need to talk. Harry curls up on his side of the couch and watches the shadows dance on the wall as the days go by.
Percy’s sometimes there. Though not until later on.
He never locks the door and Harry lets himself in.
He has coffee ready and sometimes a snack when Percy comes in. They sit on the couch and sometimes just listen to the silence.
Harry leaves and goes to the Burrow later on in the evening and does his dance around them. Until bed, where he sits and stares at the walls.
It’s a Thursday that has him packing his bags and waiting for the awakening sounds of the Burrow to tell them that he won’t be staying.
He doesn’t feel conflicted about this.
He doesn’t feel guilty as he stares at these walls and thinks of nothing.
He loves the Burrow. The best times of his life were born on this plot of land. The warmest feelings in his heart come from here.
But it’s just not for right now
Harry knows that no one is going to fully understand.
He also knows that they will give him whatever freedom he needs right now.
Percy doesn’t say anything to Harry when he shows up with his one small bag of belongings.
Just conquers up a pillow and blanket for Harry when he goes to bed.
Harry doesn’t have to lie about this being alright. He wouldn’t even if he could. When Mrs. Weasley heartbreakingly asked him where he was going to go, he shrugged and leaned over to peck her on the cheeks. He didn’t look anyone in the eye and didn’t say anything when Ron tried to grab at his arm.
Percy.
Harry knows that Percy doesn’t understand all this. They were never close and don’t know anything about each other.
But they also know that they don’t need to know anything about each other to know that this is fine.
“What would you do?” Harry’s hand is muffling his voice as he sits curled into a ball on the side of the couch.
Percy stops his ruffling around with his papers. His head titled thoughtfully to the side as he meets Harry’s eyes.
“I would leap, not hesitating with a jump.” Harry doesn’t say anything continuing to stare at Percy when he turns back to his papers. There’s a big curl near the back of his ear that uncurls and curls back.
----------------------------------------------
Harry finds he can’t sleep here as well as he thought he could.
Instead of staring into walls he finds himself lost into the chipped corner of the coffee table in front of him.
He wishes he could figure it all out.
But he doesn’t know what the question he’s being asked is?
He hears Percy’s bed springs squeak as he gets up to use the toilet.
He lifts his head for when Percy comes out.
Instead of going back to his room, Percy goes into the kitchen and takes something out of the freezer and the smell of hot chocolate has Harry enamoured.
They sit side by side on the couch breathing in the smell of hot chocolate and slight coldness of the strawberry ice cream Percy brought out.
Harry throws his comforter over both of them. Jumping when he encounter’s Percy’s icy toes, smiling softly at Percy when he snorts some of the ice cream up his nose.
Near morning Harry ends up following Percy to his bed for the two hours before Percy goes to work.
---------------------------------------
In the mornings when Harry wakes up he smells in that citrus smell.
He doesn’t know where it comes from. He knows it’s not from Percy, because Percy smells like the rain and the paper smell of a new book.
He gets up from Percy’s bed and goes around to investigate.
This would be the first day that the black haired young man would show a real interest in the apartment.
Looking into every crook and cranny he can find. Seeing that the furniture is mismatched in a tasteful array that reminds him of the Burrow.
He finds that Percy’s sloppy when it comes to his paperwork. And his socks.
He sees that Percy loves junk food. His favourite chewy cherry candies, judging by the amount.
He sees that Percy has a small little garden outside his front window.
The radio is Muggle.
But of a really bad model in Harry’s opinion.
He finds food to make and creates what he thinks will be a great dinner.
He goes to visit the Burrow on a day that it rains in London and shines in St. Owlery.
He says this to Mrs. Weasley with a nearly forgotten smile. His eyes are softer and the bags under his eyes are no longer something to worry about.
He laughs and smiles and talks in ways that he hasn’t been able to for a very long time. He forgets that he is the Boy- Who- Lived and is Just Harry.
Even though his best friends are not there, the day is passed pleasantly.
Harry and Percy have gotten to the point where they can talk to each other.
With Percy answering random questions that Harry never really got to ask before.
Harry learns things about politics and a wide range of things he probably would have never thought of knowing.
He sometimes jokes that knowing all this pointless information takes up too much room that could be used for other things.
Percy just quirks an eyebrow.
Which makes Harry laugh.
---------------------------
Harry will still have those nights where he can’t sleep and he’ll stare down the ceiling and wish for something else to happen.
Percy will turn over in his sleep and his breath will create shivers down Harry’s spine.
Harry will stare at Percy when he’s sleeping. At the soft flutter of those near blonde eyelashes. At the paleness of his skin and the freckles that are not the shocking ones of the other Weasley’s.
Sometimes he’ll play with one of the curls or run his fingertip on those cherub lips.
If Percy wakes up to this he looks at Harry for moment, before getting up to go to work.
Harry sometimes wonders what would happen if he kissed him.