Costs of Duty - Chapter 2/? (Harry Potter)
Title: The Costs of Duty
Author: Wisiaden
Disclaimer: Do I look like I own Harry Potter? Really?
Rating: M (for sex and possible themes)
Summary: Percy always upheld his duties in seriousness, but living that way takes an enormous toll on him. Thank Merlin Oliver Wood shares his misery. Post-War. Literally.
Pairings: Percy/Oliver
Warnings: None for this chapter.
Author's Note: It’s been a while, hasn’t it? It took so long for this chapter because I couldn’t figure out how to start it. I had the basic idea in mind, but I didn’t like how it turned out when I wrote it out each beginning lines. So, I stopped writing for a bit, and I finally figured out how to write it. Thanks for all the lovely reviews. I’m glad someone out there is enjoying whatever I’m churning out. Also, special thanks to “Anon”. It’s been a while since I read the books, and I actually know the first four books better than the last three. I have corrected the error you mentioned. Anyway, that’s all I have to say, and have fun reading this chapter. It’s not as depressing, honest.
---------------
Chapter Two
Percy knocked on the door to the minister’s office. A loud “come in” called out to him, and when Percy stepped into the office, he couldn’t say he was entirely surprised at who sat in the desk. He was one of Dumbledore’s men, the famous auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. The man was leafing through some files, but he lifted his head as Percy came to stand before him.
“Sir,” Percy greeted, voice solemn and always proper. He was in a commendable form of straight stiff back and shoulder, long limbed and poised. It was a battle for his job, and Percy was determined to win. Shacklebolt, on the other hand was oblivious to Percy’s anxious state, merely looked at Percy with mild curiosity. He gestured to the empty space in front of the desk and around Percy.
“Sorry,” Shacklebolt coolly sated. “I don’t have any chairs. They went missing.”
“They are in the hall,” Percy said. He saw a sportingly familiar piece of chair leg lodged into a crooked portrait. Evidently, even the ministry needed to be repair.
“Oh?” Shacklebolt said. He leaned back in his chair.
“They’re not useable anymore,” Percy replied. “But if you fill out Form 345A, you will be able to obtain new chairs. However, I’ll advise against ordering anything fancy. The budget isn’t quite what it is now.”
Kingsley stared. Percy winced to himself and hurriedly added, “I mean-I’m fine with standing, sir. Now, you wanted to see me?”
“Yes, I did,” Kingsley said slowly. “You have been…doing much more than people believe.”
Percy didn’t twitch at this though his heart gave a slight start. “Only what the ministry calls for.”
Shacklebolt hummed, “two weeks suspension sounds good. Then, I want you back here. As my temporary assistant.”
Percy gaped, “sir?”
Shacklebolt smiled. “You do good work.”
“I’m not supporting you for minister,” Percy said. It seemed too much of a good thing or a bribe. Shacklebolt tapped the files on his desk with his fingers and laughed.
“Understood. I’m only acting minister anyway. I don’t want this job.”
Percy’s eyes narrowed, and he wondered if Shacklebolt suspected exactly what he did during the war. He left it alone, hoping it wouldn’t come up and said, “it’s a shame Bones isn’t here.”
Shacklebolt nodded. “She was amazing.”
Then, Percy hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to excuse himself, but Shacklebolt noticed and dismissed Percy with a hearty, “I’ll see you in two weeks. I’ll order some chairs too.”
Outside the office, Percy exhaled a much needed breath. It hadn’t turned out as bad as he imagined. Things were going to get tricky, and Percy hoped he covered his tracks up neatly. He didn’t want anyone to know. As Percy considered that, he strode to the lift in brisk steps as he always did and into one of the most awkward situations in his life. Arthur Weasley entered at the sixth floor.
“Percy,” Mr. Weasley said, voice evident in shock.
“Dad,” Percy replied promptly. The descent was slow, and Percy nervously picked at the loose thread on the sleeve off his robe. It was the same thread from when Percy had talked to Oliver, still hanging on after a good wash. At this rate, Percy wouldn’t have a left sleeve anymore.
“You didn’t’ come to the Burrow,” Mr. Weasley said, stilting. It was likely the worst thing the man could have said because it pierced Percy straight thorough his nerves in guilt. He mulled over how to respond. It wouldn’t go over well if Percy said he didn’t think he was welcomed, even if it was true.
“I didn’t know I was supposed to,” Percy settled on at last. It wasn’t as if his father would know he saw mum and purposely avoided her.
“Well, Molly worries,” Mr. Weasley replied. There was an undercurrent that Percy ought to know he was supposed to come, and in all things deliberated Molly Weasly’s worry was the crux. That which mattered most. Still, to Percy, it meant little in a tidal wave of tension and bitter feelings. He almost heaved a sigh of relief when the lift opened to the Atrium.
“I’ll try to find time to visit,” Percy said, desperate to leave. It was all Percy could say but like Mr. Weasley’s worst thing to say, it was the worst thing Percy could have said.
“Try?” Mr. Weasley repeated. His mouth was open, incredulous. “Don’t you think you could do more than try?”
“Dad, don’t make a scene.” Percy said, placating. He shifted uncomfortably, keenly aware as people watched, attention gathered all around the Atrium. Arthur Weasley exploded into the infamous Weasley temper at that. It was worse than Mrs. Weasley’s though his was quieter comparably.
“A scene? Is that all you care about right now?” Mr. Weasley demanded to know. “Do you know how much we worried? Your mum has been crying almost every night, and you won’t even come home! You can do more than try!”
Each word was said with a levity of controlled unchecked anger.
“I said I will try,” Percy forcefully grounded out. His teeth were clenched tightly, and Percy barely noted how unsettled he was. It was a good thing Percy was a master of exiting scenes he couldn’t deal with. He hightailed it out there with as much dignity as he could, the people in the Atrium be damned. He ignored his father’s shout: “Percy! I’m not done here.”
He darted into the bathroom near the exit out and cried briefly before recomposing himself for Hogwarts. At Hogwarts, Percy cajoled and wheedled a job away from any potential meeting with family members and associated family members. Avoidance, Percy decided, was the best policy for now.
OOOOOOOO
Percy pushed his glasses up on his nose more firmly though he didn’t need it. His gaze landed on the window. It was a clear view of the lake. Then Percy thought of Fred because it didn’t seem real and leaned heavily on the broom he found. He was using it to sweep the muggle way. He wondered when the funeral was because it should be coming up, it was the second day post war and he stopped there. George would probably hate it if he attended, and Percy couldn’t see Fred expressing a desire to have pompous Percy at the event.
“And here,” a voice broke Percy’s reverie, “I thought you’ll be doing work.
Percy turned, grateful for the interruption. Oliver was standing at the top of the stairs to the floor. He didn’t think he’d see Oliver again.
“Well, I, um-“ Percy blushed. It wasn’t for his wanking but for the crude manner in which he informed Oliver that he killed Fred. He didn’t know how the other man took it. Oliver held a special spot for the twins-they were his beaters after all.
“What are you doing here?” Percy asked, steadying his voice. His eyes were stuck on the hairline cracks on the floor though.
“Was told you might need a hand up here,” Oliver said. “Only six of you here, everywhere else has at least ten.”
“Oh,” Percy said. “We’re managing fine.”
“Well, I came to help, but all I see is the improper usage of a broom.”
Percy’s weight was crushing the ends of the broom. He quickly pulled back. The ends were completely bent out of shape, forming a soft mass of ‘L’s. Percy weakly chuckled. He was sweeping by hand because he needed a numbing chore to do (Penny introduced to him to the act of cleaning mindlessly). He had even cleared out the rubble to one side by hand too.
“It’s not improper,” Percy lightly objected. “It’s perfectly normal for muggles to utilize brooms in such a way for efficient cleaning.”
“You’re making it up,” Oliver accused, but he was smiling. Percy shrugged and demonstrated. It wasn’t as effective with the bristles all bent. Oliver looked pained, “I don’t care if it’s just an old Cleansweep, but that’s just wrong.”
“Just help me clean.”
They worked in silence before Oliver spoke. “I saw Ron earlier, and he said you haven’t been home. When do you plan to go see them?”
The broom in Percy’s hand fell with a clatter, and Percy swore. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Perce?”
Oliver was concerned. He picked up the broom and held it out to Percy. Percy grabbed it, but Oliver didn’t let go of the broom.
“Oliver?” Percy tugged fruitlessly. It was tight in Oliver’s grip.
“You’re still the same, I see,” Oliver said. He released the broom. It was slack in Percy’s hand, and it clattered onto the floor again.
“What?” Percy looked at Oliver, confused.
“Your eyes,” Oliver pointed out. “They’re red. You’ve been crying, haven’t yeh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Percy evaded. He grabbed the broom and continued sweeping. Oliver sighed, “I know we drifted apart, Perce, what with me at Puddlemere and you at the ministry, but I haven’t been your dormmate for seven years for nothing. I can always tell when you cry.”
Percy was quiet.
“You know you can talk to me if you ever need an ear,” Oliver added. They worked in silence again and at the end of it, Percy looked at Oliver.
“Sunday,” he said.
“Sorry?”
“Sunday,” Percy repeated. “I’m thinking Sunday-the Weasleys’ Sunday dinners.”
Oliver considered what Percy was telling him and nodded.
“Why don’t you come over to my place after? It’s been a while since we’ve got together.”
Percy couldn’t speak for several seconds.
“It’s-it’d be late,” Percy declined. He was already grateful that Oliver was offering him a refuge in his words.
“It’s fine,” Oliver waved Percy off.
Previous Chapter Chapter Three