Fic: "Her Son, the Hero" for magentabear
Title: Her Son, The Hero
Author: paradise_loved
Recipient: magentabear
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death
Character(s): Molly Weasley, Percy Weasley
Summary: Percy and his mother keep a special relationship throughout the war, up until the very end of it.
Author's notes: I really enjoy writing any member of the Weasley family and this is the first time I've written Percy. I hope you enjoy what I've written for you!
Her Son, the Hero
A soft August rain fell on Molly Weasley's face as she stood outside the Burrow one morning. Her red hair was damp with water as she waited, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, for her son to arrive. With a sudden 'pop', Percy Weasley appeared about five meters in front of her, briefcase held in his left hand and horn-rimmed glasses now speckled with raindrops.
"All gone?" he asked briskly, not moving from the spot he had arrived at.
Molly nodded. "Your father and the twins are at work, Bill and Charlie are still out of the country, and Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny are staying with the Lovegoods. As far as I know, I should be the only here until six this evening. Would you like some lunch?"
Percy grinned and walked over to embrace his mother. "Of course, Mum." He followed Molly back towards the Burrow. He took his briefcase and held it over his mother's head as the two walked quickly towards the house.
"You're a bit late," Molly pointed out casually as they stepped inside.
"It's not that easy to Apparate when the weather is miserable," Percy protested, as both he and his mother knew that he was (though it was a rare occasion) late.
Once sitting at the table, in the spot that had been his when Percy had lived at home, Percy tapped his glasses with his wand and the water flew off. Molly stood by the kitchen counter, watching a knife chop a loaf of bread into slices as she held her wand above it.
"How - er - has everyone been?"
"Busy," Molly replied conversationally. "Really," she insisted afterwards, glancing at Percy's skeptical expression. She handed Percy a sandwich and a glass of pumpkin juice as he continued to watch her closely. "Sorry it's a bit plain, but your father and I tend to eat lightly while the children are away or at school. So, have you been following the Prophet lately? Did you see the reports of Death Eater sightings in France?"
"Mum!"
"What?"
"You and I have been having lunches together once a month now for nearly a year and a half. Normally, you ramble on the entire time about Ron or about Ginny or how Fred and George are making more than my salary - but this time! Nothing! I'm not even supposed to be here. The only person who knows about my work is Moody - and Dumbledore did, I suppose - but if this is going to become so awkward, I'm not going to bother risking coming here," Percy explained, furiously, his glasses slipping down his freckled nose as he grew more animated.
There was a silence as the two stared at each other, listening to the sound of the rain falling outside. Molly pursed her lips as she sat down at the head of the table, not breaking eye contact. Percy looked away to take a sip of pumpkin juice before murmuring, "Sorry, that was… that was completely uncalled for. I've just been stressed between working on reports for the Ministry and seeing - "
"No," Molly said softly, barely above a whisper, "perhaps you're right. You've got enough to worry about between making sure you're loyal to the Ministry and the Order. You don't have time for your mother to make you lunch every now and then. You're fighting a war from two sides."
"Mum - "
"Percy," she interrupted, "I understand. I know. It's all right."
The two sat silently for a few minutes, the only sound being that of Percy chewing the bread. Molly walked away and returned moments later with a basket that appeared to be filled to the brim with food.
"Here you are then!" she exclaimed, setting the basket down beside Percy's elbow. "Some treats for while you are working, just like the ones I used to send you when you were at school. Go on, then, go be a hero."
Percy grinned and wiped his mouth with the napkin that had been placed in his lap. "Thanks, Mum."
* * * * *
Snow was falling the next time that Percy was at the Burrow. It was Christmas Eve and despite the fact that the whole family would be home for the holiday (he also assumed that Harry, Hermione, Fleur, and Angelina Johnson would be there as well), Percy knew that he had to see Molly before he went back to work three days later. He knew perfectly well that he wouldn't exactly be welcomed by the rest of his family and friends, but it was worth the risk if he was able to talk to her before… well, Percy would find a way to explain that to her as well.
He knocked loudly three times on the front door, the warmth of the wooden door reflecting the happiness and warmth within. Percy shivered slightly from the cold and stomped his feet a few times to kick off any snow that had been accumulating on his boots.
The door opened a crack and he saw the bright eyes of one of the twins (after so much time away from the Burrow, Percy knew that he'd barely be able to tell them apart, if at all).
"Fred?" shouted a voice from inside, sounding vaguely like Molly's. "Fred? Who is it?"
"What d'you think you're doing here?" Fred snapped at Percy. "D'you just think you can waltz in here and ruin Christmas for all of us? Perce, you can't just leave for a few years and then think it'll be all right to come back."
"Fred?"
"Nothing, Mum, it's Percy," Fred shouted back into the house, and opened the door so Percy could step in from the cold.
Percy shook the snow off of his hair and glasses as he stepped into the warm sitting room of the Burrow. The whole family was sitting around the fireplace, snug and warm together (a few of them with hands intertwined, as well) and Percy felt a small twinge of jealousy surge through him. Molly stood up from the comfy chair she had been sitting in, charming her scarf to knit itself, and stared at him, brow furrowed.
"Er - Happy Christmas," Percy said plainly to the group of faces staring up towards him. "I brought you all some Butterbeer," he added, holding up a bag that was filled with six jugs of Butterbeer. He set the bag down next to where Ginny sat, Harry's arm comfortingly around her waist.
"Thanks," Ginny murmured to him.
"Sorry, really, but Mum, d'you mind if I speak to you in the kitchen or somewhere private for a few minutes?" he asked. "Then, I promise you lot can go back to your party or festivities or whatever it is you're doing.".
Molly nodded, still refusing to speak to him, and led him back into the far corner of the kitchen. Percy slid out of his coat which he hung on the back of a chair and turned to embrace her.
Molly was shocked as her son hugged her, and, after a moment or two, affectionately wrapped her arms around her boy.
"I have some news from the Ministry, but I only want you to know about it, Mum," he began. "Due to some of the recent attacks in London against Muggles, they've transferred some of us administrative witches and wizards at the Ministry to work as Aurors. They want us out on the streets of London by the first day of the year, and I thought it was something I should let you know."
"Why? You're going to be - "
"I've never been as good at Defense Against the Dark Arts as Bill or Charlie, or even Ron for that matter. I'm better with books, Mum, and these attacks have been vicious. So, speaking plainly, I don't know how likely it is that I'll live to see Voldemort defeated."
"So what is this?" Molly asked, her lip trembling more and more during Percy's speech. "This is my warning? Are you telling me to prepare myself? I'm just supposed to sit around and be ready for your death until the time it comes?" she continued, voice rising with every question.
"Yes - no - Mum, I have no idea. I don't know what's going to happen and I'm frankly too terrified to go see a Seer to find out. I just want you to… if… If the worst should come out of this 'promotion' of mine, I want you to keep our secret. I don't want the rest of the family to know that I've been working with the Order this entire time," Percy explained, tensely gripping the back of the chair with his right hand. At this point, he couldn't afford to look into his mother's eyes. He knew he would burst into tears along with her if he did.
"What…?" Molly inquired. "All this work you've done? Unnoticed? You've been helping the Order this entire time - Moody's been keeping me updated on your work and you've been so valuable. You're a hero, Percy."
"Mum-" Percy choked. He waited for a moment, and then spoke again clearly. "I know. I know what I'm doing is for a good cause. I just don't want them to feel guilty. I don't want them to feel as if they've shunned me for no reason. You've raised an incredibly noble family, and I wouldn't want them to feel guilty for the rest of their lives. It's not fair to them. Really, Mum, it's not fair at all."
Without a response from his mother, Percy turned around, taking his coat and putting it back on. "Happy Christmas," he muttered to her as he left the kitchen.
"Wait - I - "
Percy turned around to see Molly holding up a navy sweater with a large capital 'P' on it. "You're not too important for a Weasley sweater, are you, love?"
With a grin, he walked over and took the sweater from her. With a soft kiss on her cheek, Percy said good-bye.
He walked back through the sitting room and waved timidly to the silent group of people around the fire. "Happy Christmas to you lot, too." With a short grin, he let himself out of the Burrow and back into the cold.
* * * * *
He had written to her every day since then. Every day, Percy had told her what had gone on at the Ministry, with Moody, or in the streets of London. He was always working, but she would receive a letter from him every day at around noon. Every day, Molly would be promised that when it came down to it, he would rather be a hero than cower away as he had before.
Near mid-March, during the first rain of the year, there was a knock on the door that was harder and firmer than most knocks on the Burrow door tended to be. It was nearly four in the afternoon by then, and the light was starting to dim. By that time, she had yet to receive her daily letter from Percy. Molly reached the door after peering out of the window to see a Ministry official. She breathed deeply, already aware of the message she was about to receive, and walked over to open the front door.
The Ministry official didn't need to tell her that her son was a hero. Molly Weasley already knew that.
Author: paradise_loved
Recipient: magentabear
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death
Character(s): Molly Weasley, Percy Weasley
Summary: Percy and his mother keep a special relationship throughout the war, up until the very end of it.
Author's notes: I really enjoy writing any member of the Weasley family and this is the first time I've written Percy. I hope you enjoy what I've written for you!
Her Son, the Hero
A soft August rain fell on Molly Weasley's face as she stood outside the Burrow one morning. Her red hair was damp with water as she waited, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, for her son to arrive. With a sudden 'pop', Percy Weasley appeared about five meters in front of her, briefcase held in his left hand and horn-rimmed glasses now speckled with raindrops.
"All gone?" he asked briskly, not moving from the spot he had arrived at.
Molly nodded. "Your father and the twins are at work, Bill and Charlie are still out of the country, and Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny are staying with the Lovegoods. As far as I know, I should be the only here until six this evening. Would you like some lunch?"
Percy grinned and walked over to embrace his mother. "Of course, Mum." He followed Molly back towards the Burrow. He took his briefcase and held it over his mother's head as the two walked quickly towards the house.
"You're a bit late," Molly pointed out casually as they stepped inside.
"It's not that easy to Apparate when the weather is miserable," Percy protested, as both he and his mother knew that he was (though it was a rare occasion) late.
Once sitting at the table, in the spot that had been his when Percy had lived at home, Percy tapped his glasses with his wand and the water flew off. Molly stood by the kitchen counter, watching a knife chop a loaf of bread into slices as she held her wand above it.
"How - er - has everyone been?"
"Busy," Molly replied conversationally. "Really," she insisted afterwards, glancing at Percy's skeptical expression. She handed Percy a sandwich and a glass of pumpkin juice as he continued to watch her closely. "Sorry it's a bit plain, but your father and I tend to eat lightly while the children are away or at school. So, have you been following the Prophet lately? Did you see the reports of Death Eater sightings in France?"
"Mum!"
"What?"
"You and I have been having lunches together once a month now for nearly a year and a half. Normally, you ramble on the entire time about Ron or about Ginny or how Fred and George are making more than my salary - but this time! Nothing! I'm not even supposed to be here. The only person who knows about my work is Moody - and Dumbledore did, I suppose - but if this is going to become so awkward, I'm not going to bother risking coming here," Percy explained, furiously, his glasses slipping down his freckled nose as he grew more animated.
There was a silence as the two stared at each other, listening to the sound of the rain falling outside. Molly pursed her lips as she sat down at the head of the table, not breaking eye contact. Percy looked away to take a sip of pumpkin juice before murmuring, "Sorry, that was… that was completely uncalled for. I've just been stressed between working on reports for the Ministry and seeing - "
"No," Molly said softly, barely above a whisper, "perhaps you're right. You've got enough to worry about between making sure you're loyal to the Ministry and the Order. You don't have time for your mother to make you lunch every now and then. You're fighting a war from two sides."
"Mum - "
"Percy," she interrupted, "I understand. I know. It's all right."
The two sat silently for a few minutes, the only sound being that of Percy chewing the bread. Molly walked away and returned moments later with a basket that appeared to be filled to the brim with food.
"Here you are then!" she exclaimed, setting the basket down beside Percy's elbow. "Some treats for while you are working, just like the ones I used to send you when you were at school. Go on, then, go be a hero."
Percy grinned and wiped his mouth with the napkin that had been placed in his lap. "Thanks, Mum."
* * * * *
Snow was falling the next time that Percy was at the Burrow. It was Christmas Eve and despite the fact that the whole family would be home for the holiday (he also assumed that Harry, Hermione, Fleur, and Angelina Johnson would be there as well), Percy knew that he had to see Molly before he went back to work three days later. He knew perfectly well that he wouldn't exactly be welcomed by the rest of his family and friends, but it was worth the risk if he was able to talk to her before… well, Percy would find a way to explain that to her as well.
He knocked loudly three times on the front door, the warmth of the wooden door reflecting the happiness and warmth within. Percy shivered slightly from the cold and stomped his feet a few times to kick off any snow that had been accumulating on his boots.
The door opened a crack and he saw the bright eyes of one of the twins (after so much time away from the Burrow, Percy knew that he'd barely be able to tell them apart, if at all).
"Fred?" shouted a voice from inside, sounding vaguely like Molly's. "Fred? Who is it?"
"What d'you think you're doing here?" Fred snapped at Percy. "D'you just think you can waltz in here and ruin Christmas for all of us? Perce, you can't just leave for a few years and then think it'll be all right to come back."
"Fred?"
"Nothing, Mum, it's Percy," Fred shouted back into the house, and opened the door so Percy could step in from the cold.
Percy shook the snow off of his hair and glasses as he stepped into the warm sitting room of the Burrow. The whole family was sitting around the fireplace, snug and warm together (a few of them with hands intertwined, as well) and Percy felt a small twinge of jealousy surge through him. Molly stood up from the comfy chair she had been sitting in, charming her scarf to knit itself, and stared at him, brow furrowed.
"Er - Happy Christmas," Percy said plainly to the group of faces staring up towards him. "I brought you all some Butterbeer," he added, holding up a bag that was filled with six jugs of Butterbeer. He set the bag down next to where Ginny sat, Harry's arm comfortingly around her waist.
"Thanks," Ginny murmured to him.
"Sorry, really, but Mum, d'you mind if I speak to you in the kitchen or somewhere private for a few minutes?" he asked. "Then, I promise you lot can go back to your party or festivities or whatever it is you're doing.".
Molly nodded, still refusing to speak to him, and led him back into the far corner of the kitchen. Percy slid out of his coat which he hung on the back of a chair and turned to embrace her.
Molly was shocked as her son hugged her, and, after a moment or two, affectionately wrapped her arms around her boy.
"I have some news from the Ministry, but I only want you to know about it, Mum," he began. "Due to some of the recent attacks in London against Muggles, they've transferred some of us administrative witches and wizards at the Ministry to work as Aurors. They want us out on the streets of London by the first day of the year, and I thought it was something I should let you know."
"Why? You're going to be - "
"I've never been as good at Defense Against the Dark Arts as Bill or Charlie, or even Ron for that matter. I'm better with books, Mum, and these attacks have been vicious. So, speaking plainly, I don't know how likely it is that I'll live to see Voldemort defeated."
"So what is this?" Molly asked, her lip trembling more and more during Percy's speech. "This is my warning? Are you telling me to prepare myself? I'm just supposed to sit around and be ready for your death until the time it comes?" she continued, voice rising with every question.
"Yes - no - Mum, I have no idea. I don't know what's going to happen and I'm frankly too terrified to go see a Seer to find out. I just want you to… if… If the worst should come out of this 'promotion' of mine, I want you to keep our secret. I don't want the rest of the family to know that I've been working with the Order this entire time," Percy explained, tensely gripping the back of the chair with his right hand. At this point, he couldn't afford to look into his mother's eyes. He knew he would burst into tears along with her if he did.
"What…?" Molly inquired. "All this work you've done? Unnoticed? You've been helping the Order this entire time - Moody's been keeping me updated on your work and you've been so valuable. You're a hero, Percy."
"Mum-" Percy choked. He waited for a moment, and then spoke again clearly. "I know. I know what I'm doing is for a good cause. I just don't want them to feel guilty. I don't want them to feel as if they've shunned me for no reason. You've raised an incredibly noble family, and I wouldn't want them to feel guilty for the rest of their lives. It's not fair to them. Really, Mum, it's not fair at all."
Without a response from his mother, Percy turned around, taking his coat and putting it back on. "Happy Christmas," he muttered to her as he left the kitchen.
"Wait - I - "
Percy turned around to see Molly holding up a navy sweater with a large capital 'P' on it. "You're not too important for a Weasley sweater, are you, love?"
With a grin, he walked over and took the sweater from her. With a soft kiss on her cheek, Percy said good-bye.
He walked back through the sitting room and waved timidly to the silent group of people around the fire. "Happy Christmas to you lot, too." With a short grin, he let himself out of the Burrow and back into the cold.
* * * * *
He had written to her every day since then. Every day, Percy had told her what had gone on at the Ministry, with Moody, or in the streets of London. He was always working, but she would receive a letter from him every day at around noon. Every day, Molly would be promised that when it came down to it, he would rather be a hero than cower away as he had before.
Near mid-March, during the first rain of the year, there was a knock on the door that was harder and firmer than most knocks on the Burrow door tended to be. It was nearly four in the afternoon by then, and the light was starting to dim. By that time, she had yet to receive her daily letter from Percy. Molly reached the door after peering out of the window to see a Ministry official. She breathed deeply, already aware of the message she was about to receive, and walked over to open the front door.
The Ministry official didn't need to tell her that her son was a hero. Molly Weasley already knew that.