Fic: No Challenge: Gift for kitrinlu
Happy holidays, kitrinlu! Enjoy! :D
Title: Runaway
Summary: After a huge row with his family, Percy Weasley figures out where to go from there. Set between books four and five.
Characters/Pairings: Percy Weasley, various others
Genre: Gen, Angst
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 2,031
CRACK!
Percy stumbled as he appeared, nearly falling headfirst into the dirt-paved country lane. He plunked his luggage down onto the grass. Straightening himself, he dusted off his navy-blue, tailored robes and smoothed his hair. Thank Merlin he hadn't thought to change out of his work clothing when he got home. Having that bright ginger hair was a social hazard enough, never mind wearing ratty robes along with it.
Home. Catching himself thinking that, he scowled. Percy had no home, unless his new office at the Ministry counted. He reckoned it didn't since he hadn't moved in yet. Nevertheless, if his work was in London, he should be, too. The question was how to get there. Ordinarily, he'd just Apparate, but the Ministry was closed for the evening. Percy wasn't keen on just magically appearing in a busy London street, and for that matter, Apparition may prove difficult with all his life's belongings in tow. Judging from the loud racket he'd just made, he wasn't emotionally stable enough to concentrate, either.
His hands still shook, he noticed, reaching for his wand. "Lumos." He held his wand aloft, waving it back and forth before he began feeling silly. Here he was, Junior Assistant to the Minister for Magic himself, hailing a bus in the middle of nowhere. It would have been so much better to travel by Floo; however, Percy would've sooner dived head-first off a cliff than ask his parents for a single speck of Floo powder.
He quickly shoved his wand in its pocket. He couldn't think of Mr and Mrs Weasley without wanting to break or strangle something. Still, it wouldn't do to snap his wand in two. Shutting his eyes, clenching his fists, Percy found the memory was too fresh to leave.
"The ONLY advantage Fudge can see is getting news on this family. He knows we're still close to Dumbledore. He's giving you that position at a price, Percy. Why can't you see through-"
"Why can't YOU see that this family is nothing? Why should the Minister care about us? We're not important. In fact-" Percy raised his voice when his father opened his mouth. "In fact, it's practically career suicide to associate with a Weasley. I've managed to transcend that, and you're still in denial about the family's social standing."
"You've transcended this family? Think you're too for us now, is that it?"
"No, but I think it's a miracle ANY Weasley managed to rise higher than head of an insignificant office."
"YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLE! You'd throw this family off the broom if it meant you getting ahead. I never dreamed one of my own children would be so selfish and ungrateful-"
BANG!
A huge, speeding bus appeared, and Percy jumped back along with the frightened trees. Squinting into the blinding headlights, Percy nervously flattened his hair and lifted his luggage. As he made his way over to the bus, the door slammed open, and a young man leapt out. He landed inches in front of Percy and apparently found this amusing.
"Sorry to frighten you, sir! Welcome to the Knight's Bus, emergency transport for-"
"Passage for one to London, please! And quickly."
Still grinning unpleasantly, the young man stepped aside to let Percy enter the bus. "You're in luck tonight, sir. Only one passenger besides yourself, so it's Bristol then off to London."
Percy nodded curtly, fishing twelve sickles out of his pocket.
"'S only eleven for London, but for thirteen you can get a-"
"I'm aware of that, sir. Take the extra for loading my belongings and leaving me in peace." Percy climbed the steps quickly, trying to ignore the mutterings behind him. "Who's he think he is...high 'n mighty...."
"...think you're too good for this family, is that it?"
Bristling, Percy climbed to the upper deck and settled himself near the front. As the bus shot off with another BANG, he gripped the rail beside him to keep himself from losing his seat. He chanced a glance out the window, and he almost lost his dinner for his trouble. The quickly changing landscape, the bus's erratic swerving...Percy shut his eyes, trying to think of anything else. He saw his mother shove away a half-cleaned cauldron- the remnants of the family's chicken soup dinner- and run from the room. She had a dishrag pressed to her face as she tried to stifle her sobs.
No, Percy thought firmly. He was done with that family. Molly and Arthur Weasley had made their choices, and it was none of Percy's concern. With an earth-shattering shake and a deafening bang, the Knight Bus appeared on a wide thruway. Percy clutched at the rail, feeling sicker than ever.
Oblivious to the horrible driving, the stringy-haired conductor hopped onto the upper level. He paused, studying Percy with that same detestable grin.
"Feelin' alright, Mister Weasley?"
"How'd you know my name," Percy snapped.
"It's on your bags. And besides, I was at Hogwarts with Charlie. Helluva Quidditch player, him. You've gotta be his little brother, right?"
Percy wasn't sure how to answer that question. He was done with the Weasleys. But Charlie and Bill, they hadn't been there for the row. What would they say?
"How much longer 'til London?"
"Not much. Be there before you know it. And oh yeah, Ernie needs an address. All you said was 'London,' and that's a big place-"
"The Leaky Cauldron."
"You've got it." The young man saluted, then stomped down to the lower level.
Percy sighed. He didn't want to spend the evening at the Leaky Cauldron. It was too high-traffic, and at this time of night, the drunks would be well on their way to oblivion. Percy had no taste for such riffraff- they were too loud, rowdy, and invasive. How could those people live with themselves after putting on such shameful, public displays? It's no matter, Percy thought, shaking his head. He had no place else to go. He knew no one well enough to turn up on their doorstep, except for Bill. Bill was in London. He could go to Bill, explain what happened, and perhaps he'd let Percy stay until he found a flat. Would he understand?
"It must be a burden, being so important," Bill said gravely. He'd begun placing forks and knives. Four threadbare placemats sat at one end of the Burrow's long dining table.
"It would be, for someone who wasn't up to the responsibility," Percy replied. He felt proud knowing that his eldest brother thought he was important. He'd always looked up to Bill.
"Oh, come off it, Perce!" Bill snorted. "Whatever you're doing can't be that essential. How often do you dine with Mum and Dad?"
"Often enough. Whenever I can get away from the office at a decent hour. You may not think my work's essential, but since Mr Crouch has been ill, I've been shouldering much of his work, too. Do you honestly believe that the Minister for International Cooperation's work isn't important?"
"Calm down, Perce. Yes, sure, what you're doing's important, but don't you think you should make it home for dinner more often? Besides you, it's just Mum and Dad now when the others are off at school. That's got to be weird for them."
The Knight Bus gave another jolt, and this time Percy did lose his seat. When he'd scrambled back up, he was relieved to see London from his window. He'd go to the Leaky Cauldron after all. Bill would never help him, once he found out he'd chosen work over his family. But it's not like that at all, Percy reminded himself. He was pleased when the conductor's call saved him from finding a reason why.
"London, Charing Cross!"
Percy stood abruptly, stumbling a bit as if on sea legs. Luckily, the annoying conductor wasn’t nearby to chuckle at him. When Percy stepped off the bus, the young man was helping a little white-haired fellow lug Percy’s bags across the sidewalk. The bags looked quite heavy; Percy frowned, watching the two men struggle with his own things. He almost offered a hand, but then thought better of it.
"Well, here you are, your majesty," the young man said loudly, dropping the luggage near the door to a small, ramshackle building (or, what appeared to be one.)
"Stan," the old man hissed. "You can't say that! Are you mad? Help me take this man's things inside."
Stan complied, grumbling all the while. Percy followed the two of them inside the Leaky Cauldron. An elderly woman approached them.
"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom's busy at the bar. Can I get you a room?"
"Yes, madam. One room, please. I'm not certain how long I'll be staying, so best make it for at least three days."
"Follow me, then."
In his distraction, Percy hadn't noticed Stan and his driver leave. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if he should've given them another sickle. At any rate, he refused to allow an old lady to carry his things. When followed the woman up a rickety flight of stairs, he had to turn sideways to keep his bags from jamming.
"Here's your room. Feel free to get settled, and I'll be back with your key. By the way, you're Arthur and Molly's son, aren't you?"
Percy froze, his thanks dying on his lips. "I...my parents and I haven't spoken in awhile. Been quite busy with the Ministry, where I work."
"Ah," the woman muttered thoughtfully. "Haven't spoken in awhile. Well if you don't mind my saying, perhaps you should drop them an owl? Just to explain, or apologize, if that's necessary. Oh, now I've gone and said too much, I'll be back with your key, dear."
Percy swallowed. He watched the woman's stooped back leave the room and the door shut behind her. Drop his parents an owl, to explain or apologize?
"I refuse to apologize for my success! Should I have told the Minister, 'oh, no thanks, I don't think my father would like that.' I am an adult, and I will make my own choices."
"I certainly wish you'd begin acting like an adult! I try to tell you the truth, but you refuse to listen. That is arrogant and immature! You see only what you want to see, and hear only what you-"
"WOULD IT KILL YOU TO BE PROUD OF ME? Would it? If you're so concerned about me, shouldn't you just tell me to be careful and let me make up my own mind? And as for all that You-Know-Who nonsense- do you even hear yourself? You sound like a conspiracy theorist!"
"And YOU sound like an ignorant, selfish child! If you'd like to make me proud, start by opening your damn eyes."
Percy blinked. His eyes felt itchy, so he pulled off his glasses to rub at them. He rubbed until his eyes watered, so he couldn't be sure if they were wet to begin with. The door creaked open again, and he accepted his room key without a word. When he replaced his glasses, he found the old woman standing there, watching him.
"Let me get you a drink, dear. On the house."
"I'm fine," Percy snapped. The thickness in his voice made him angry. "I have gold, and if I want something I will get it myself."
The woman just nodded. "Of course, dear."
The door closed with a final creak, and Percy stared at his bags. Suddenly, he felt very tired. He sat on the bed, meaning just to sit awhile, but found himself curling up onto his side. Pulling off his glasses, he set them on a table near the narrow bed. Before he could shut his eyes, though, he remembered something urgent. He still wore his new, tailored robes.
Percy pulled himself out of bed and out of his robes. Carefully, he draped his robes over an old wooden chair in the corner. He didn't have any sleep clothes that weren't in the bags, so he slipped into bed in his undergarments. Percy yawned, hoping his clothes wouldn't wrinkle too badly overnight. He'd be flat-hunting the next morning, and he needed to look respectable- despite his Weasley hair.
Jenna / Ravenclaw / 68 points
Title: Runaway
Summary: After a huge row with his family, Percy Weasley figures out where to go from there. Set between books four and five.
Characters/Pairings: Percy Weasley, various others
Genre: Gen, Angst
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 2,031
CRACK!
Percy stumbled as he appeared, nearly falling headfirst into the dirt-paved country lane. He plunked his luggage down onto the grass. Straightening himself, he dusted off his navy-blue, tailored robes and smoothed his hair. Thank Merlin he hadn't thought to change out of his work clothing when he got home. Having that bright ginger hair was a social hazard enough, never mind wearing ratty robes along with it.
Home. Catching himself thinking that, he scowled. Percy had no home, unless his new office at the Ministry counted. He reckoned it didn't since he hadn't moved in yet. Nevertheless, if his work was in London, he should be, too. The question was how to get there. Ordinarily, he'd just Apparate, but the Ministry was closed for the evening. Percy wasn't keen on just magically appearing in a busy London street, and for that matter, Apparition may prove difficult with all his life's belongings in tow. Judging from the loud racket he'd just made, he wasn't emotionally stable enough to concentrate, either.
His hands still shook, he noticed, reaching for his wand. "Lumos." He held his wand aloft, waving it back and forth before he began feeling silly. Here he was, Junior Assistant to the Minister for Magic himself, hailing a bus in the middle of nowhere. It would have been so much better to travel by Floo; however, Percy would've sooner dived head-first off a cliff than ask his parents for a single speck of Floo powder.
He quickly shoved his wand in its pocket. He couldn't think of Mr and Mrs Weasley without wanting to break or strangle something. Still, it wouldn't do to snap his wand in two. Shutting his eyes, clenching his fists, Percy found the memory was too fresh to leave.
"The ONLY advantage Fudge can see is getting news on this family. He knows we're still close to Dumbledore. He's giving you that position at a price, Percy. Why can't you see through-"
"Why can't YOU see that this family is nothing? Why should the Minister care about us? We're not important. In fact-" Percy raised his voice when his father opened his mouth. "In fact, it's practically career suicide to associate with a Weasley. I've managed to transcend that, and you're still in denial about the family's social standing."
"You've transcended this family? Think you're too for us now, is that it?"
"No, but I think it's a miracle ANY Weasley managed to rise higher than head of an insignificant office."
"YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLE! You'd throw this family off the broom if it meant you getting ahead. I never dreamed one of my own children would be so selfish and ungrateful-"
BANG!
A huge, speeding bus appeared, and Percy jumped back along with the frightened trees. Squinting into the blinding headlights, Percy nervously flattened his hair and lifted his luggage. As he made his way over to the bus, the door slammed open, and a young man leapt out. He landed inches in front of Percy and apparently found this amusing.
"Sorry to frighten you, sir! Welcome to the Knight's Bus, emergency transport for-"
"Passage for one to London, please! And quickly."
Still grinning unpleasantly, the young man stepped aside to let Percy enter the bus. "You're in luck tonight, sir. Only one passenger besides yourself, so it's Bristol then off to London."
Percy nodded curtly, fishing twelve sickles out of his pocket.
"'S only eleven for London, but for thirteen you can get a-"
"I'm aware of that, sir. Take the extra for loading my belongings and leaving me in peace." Percy climbed the steps quickly, trying to ignore the mutterings behind him. "Who's he think he is...high 'n mighty...."
"...think you're too good for this family, is that it?"
Bristling, Percy climbed to the upper deck and settled himself near the front. As the bus shot off with another BANG, he gripped the rail beside him to keep himself from losing his seat. He chanced a glance out the window, and he almost lost his dinner for his trouble. The quickly changing landscape, the bus's erratic swerving...Percy shut his eyes, trying to think of anything else. He saw his mother shove away a half-cleaned cauldron- the remnants of the family's chicken soup dinner- and run from the room. She had a dishrag pressed to her face as she tried to stifle her sobs.
No, Percy thought firmly. He was done with that family. Molly and Arthur Weasley had made their choices, and it was none of Percy's concern. With an earth-shattering shake and a deafening bang, the Knight Bus appeared on a wide thruway. Percy clutched at the rail, feeling sicker than ever.
Oblivious to the horrible driving, the stringy-haired conductor hopped onto the upper level. He paused, studying Percy with that same detestable grin.
"Feelin' alright, Mister Weasley?"
"How'd you know my name," Percy snapped.
"It's on your bags. And besides, I was at Hogwarts with Charlie. Helluva Quidditch player, him. You've gotta be his little brother, right?"
Percy wasn't sure how to answer that question. He was done with the Weasleys. But Charlie and Bill, they hadn't been there for the row. What would they say?
"How much longer 'til London?"
"Not much. Be there before you know it. And oh yeah, Ernie needs an address. All you said was 'London,' and that's a big place-"
"The Leaky Cauldron."
"You've got it." The young man saluted, then stomped down to the lower level.
Percy sighed. He didn't want to spend the evening at the Leaky Cauldron. It was too high-traffic, and at this time of night, the drunks would be well on their way to oblivion. Percy had no taste for such riffraff- they were too loud, rowdy, and invasive. How could those people live with themselves after putting on such shameful, public displays? It's no matter, Percy thought, shaking his head. He had no place else to go. He knew no one well enough to turn up on their doorstep, except for Bill. Bill was in London. He could go to Bill, explain what happened, and perhaps he'd let Percy stay until he found a flat. Would he understand?
"It must be a burden, being so important," Bill said gravely. He'd begun placing forks and knives. Four threadbare placemats sat at one end of the Burrow's long dining table.
"It would be, for someone who wasn't up to the responsibility," Percy replied. He felt proud knowing that his eldest brother thought he was important. He'd always looked up to Bill.
"Oh, come off it, Perce!" Bill snorted. "Whatever you're doing can't be that essential. How often do you dine with Mum and Dad?"
"Often enough. Whenever I can get away from the office at a decent hour. You may not think my work's essential, but since Mr Crouch has been ill, I've been shouldering much of his work, too. Do you honestly believe that the Minister for International Cooperation's work isn't important?"
"Calm down, Perce. Yes, sure, what you're doing's important, but don't you think you should make it home for dinner more often? Besides you, it's just Mum and Dad now when the others are off at school. That's got to be weird for them."
The Knight Bus gave another jolt, and this time Percy did lose his seat. When he'd scrambled back up, he was relieved to see London from his window. He'd go to the Leaky Cauldron after all. Bill would never help him, once he found out he'd chosen work over his family. But it's not like that at all, Percy reminded himself. He was pleased when the conductor's call saved him from finding a reason why.
"London, Charing Cross!"
Percy stood abruptly, stumbling a bit as if on sea legs. Luckily, the annoying conductor wasn’t nearby to chuckle at him. When Percy stepped off the bus, the young man was helping a little white-haired fellow lug Percy’s bags across the sidewalk. The bags looked quite heavy; Percy frowned, watching the two men struggle with his own things. He almost offered a hand, but then thought better of it.
"Well, here you are, your majesty," the young man said loudly, dropping the luggage near the door to a small, ramshackle building (or, what appeared to be one.)
"Stan," the old man hissed. "You can't say that! Are you mad? Help me take this man's things inside."
Stan complied, grumbling all the while. Percy followed the two of them inside the Leaky Cauldron. An elderly woman approached them.
"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom's busy at the bar. Can I get you a room?"
"Yes, madam. One room, please. I'm not certain how long I'll be staying, so best make it for at least three days."
"Follow me, then."
In his distraction, Percy hadn't noticed Stan and his driver leave. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if he should've given them another sickle. At any rate, he refused to allow an old lady to carry his things. When followed the woman up a rickety flight of stairs, he had to turn sideways to keep his bags from jamming.
"Here's your room. Feel free to get settled, and I'll be back with your key. By the way, you're Arthur and Molly's son, aren't you?"
Percy froze, his thanks dying on his lips. "I...my parents and I haven't spoken in awhile. Been quite busy with the Ministry, where I work."
"Ah," the woman muttered thoughtfully. "Haven't spoken in awhile. Well if you don't mind my saying, perhaps you should drop them an owl? Just to explain, or apologize, if that's necessary. Oh, now I've gone and said too much, I'll be back with your key, dear."
Percy swallowed. He watched the woman's stooped back leave the room and the door shut behind her. Drop his parents an owl, to explain or apologize?
"I refuse to apologize for my success! Should I have told the Minister, 'oh, no thanks, I don't think my father would like that.' I am an adult, and I will make my own choices."
"I certainly wish you'd begin acting like an adult! I try to tell you the truth, but you refuse to listen. That is arrogant and immature! You see only what you want to see, and hear only what you-"
"WOULD IT KILL YOU TO BE PROUD OF ME? Would it? If you're so concerned about me, shouldn't you just tell me to be careful and let me make up my own mind? And as for all that You-Know-Who nonsense- do you even hear yourself? You sound like a conspiracy theorist!"
"And YOU sound like an ignorant, selfish child! If you'd like to make me proud, start by opening your damn eyes."
Percy blinked. His eyes felt itchy, so he pulled off his glasses to rub at them. He rubbed until his eyes watered, so he couldn't be sure if they were wet to begin with. The door creaked open again, and he accepted his room key without a word. When he replaced his glasses, he found the old woman standing there, watching him.
"Let me get you a drink, dear. On the house."
"I'm fine," Percy snapped. The thickness in his voice made him angry. "I have gold, and if I want something I will get it myself."
The woman just nodded. "Of course, dear."
The door closed with a final creak, and Percy stared at his bags. Suddenly, he felt very tired. He sat on the bed, meaning just to sit awhile, but found himself curling up onto his side. Pulling off his glasses, he set them on a table near the narrow bed. Before he could shut his eyes, though, he remembered something urgent. He still wore his new, tailored robes.
Percy pulled himself out of bed and out of his robes. Carefully, he draped his robes over an old wooden chair in the corner. He didn't have any sleep clothes that weren't in the bags, so he slipped into bed in his undergarments. Percy yawned, hoping his clothes wouldn't wrinkle too badly overnight. He'd be flat-hunting the next morning, and he needed to look respectable- despite his Weasley hair.
Jenna / Ravenclaw / 68 points