(Untitled)

[vedovo]

Who: Arthur and Percy Weasley
Where: Budleigh Salterton/A seemingly abandoned cemetary near Dover.
When: 15th-17th August, 2001.
Status: Complete

Comments

[foolishambition]

Percy stood at the cemetery gates for a long while staring at the crooked rows of stone and patches of yellow grass. He turned the stems of the bouquet of yellow daffodils he brought - freshly cut from a greenhouse on his way over from work - causing yellow petals to be wrenched from the stems from the force of the motion.

The day was hot, sticky, and humid. But, still, Percy wore his best robes - black linen with silver embroidery - and traveling cloak, all buttoned up to his neck. He resisted the urge to tug at his collar, settling for the comforting motion of pushing his glasses up his nose. He held the flowers up to his face and inspected the damage as he crossed from the road into the cemetery itself.

Each step he took forward pulled him deeper into the past: Ron's angry face at the Burrow as he threatened to kill him, fading notes of his mother's watered down perfume, teaching his sister to hold a quill properly so she could write to Bill, acidic words spilling from his lips, his own quill, as he worked, in desperation, to

[vedovo]

Arthur's body had frozen solid, as if he were petrified, and the only sound he could hear other than his son's voice was his own rattling breath. Percy - and Ron, and Ginny - they were all alive. He tried to imagine with Ron hair, but couldn't. If Arthur was honest with himself, it did not surprise him that Percy didn't know where they were. Arthur loved his son more than he loved himself, despite the hurt he had caused the family, but the others had never really felt the same way

[foolishambition]

Percy still felt like someone was watching him. Staring at him. It raised his hackles and put him on guard. His wand was in the pocket of his robes, within reach; but if someone attacked he certainly wouldn't get to it in time

[vedovo]

Now or never. It was now or never, and Arthur couldn't let it be never, not now that he had seen Percy - seen how much had grown, even if he had grown old and tired, and heard about Ron and Ginny and how they could all be safe. Arthur could not let it be never. He rose to his feet, holding his hands clearly aloft in surrender.

"It's me, Percy. Only me, and I'm not armed. It's only me."

His voice cracked at the end, and Arthur did not dare to take any more paces towards his son.

[foolishambition]

Percy nearly dropped his wand when a man who looked like his father stepped into view. He tightened his grip on his wand and took a step back. He was speechless for a moment as he took in the sight.

"You're dead," Percy whispered. "You can't be him. Can't be."

The man - maybe Father - said he wasn't armed. Percy could see his hands and didn't see a wand. He wanted it to be his father. He searched his mind for something - a small fact, something that only Arthur would know; he came up empty. He couldn't think. "How do I know it's not a trick?"

The only way he thought he'd have proof in this moment is if he were to dig up Arthur's grave and find nothing except dirt there.