Percy Weasley

Ancient volumes towered around him, thick-spined books that went back as far as the eye could see. The library was an easy place of solitude, formidable walls of silence that were filled with inked treasure, infused with the scent of old books and knowledge. Hogwarts library was a haven inside of a haven, a little slice of Percy found deep in the endless pages he encountered in the six years he had attended Hogwarts. It put to shame the little bookstores that held a special place in his heart, the hidden nooks of the library where he always found the answer he needed. Almost always.

Dust plumed into his face, disturbed the finely layered dust from the hard casings as the next set from the stack of books he complied on the floor rose with grace it lost when they hit the table. Eyes narrowed, he brushed the particles from his robes. He had become desperate now, scoured the oldest books with iniquitously outdated information while he waited for Hermes’ return from Romania. Percy still cringed at the owl he had sent his brother, the plea for help in a subject that he was neither good at nor enjoyed; magical creatures. It would have been foolish not to reach out to the only person he knew that had more knowledge of magical creatures than their professors. Romania seemed eons away, much too far for the speed in which he needed the reply so Percy reverted back to what he knew. Books.

It had been over a month since Penelope had been petrified, nearly six weeks to the day and they were still no closer to discovering the culprit. Days spent in the library, entire weekends lost in hopes that he would be able to bring her back, speed up the drought, or at most, stop any further attacks. Dating in secret he had no idea that she had been petrified, a kernel of emotion that lodged in his throat when it was announced to the prefects and remained there. He didn’t think much of the relationship until then, didn’t focus on his feelings until they were thrown into chaos when he lost someone he was starting to care deeply for.

“Petrification is a malign magical state in which a living creature is rendered immobile and unresponsive as if they had been turned to stone. Petrification could be inflicted by the Statue curse . . . you don’t bloody say,” Percy growled under his breath, the books slammed shut in aggravation. 

It was the same information over and over again. Every book, no matter the publishing date all stated the same thing. They gave no sensible clues to who or what was petrifying muggleborns, only that Mandrake Restorative Draught was the cure. He had tried to convince McGonagall of the possibility that someone was using the statue curse but relented at his very first-ever threat of detention. 

“Perce?”

Wide brown eyes peered shyly out from behind the stack of books, Ginny’s flaming hair limp around her face. Weighted guilt came over him at the appearance of his baby sister. She hadn’t been right since she came to Hogwarts and he knew it. The entire school year he had done as his parents asked, looked after Ginny, and fiercely protected her, but he was floundering now. 

He couldn’t do it, couldn’t take on anyone else’s problems. Everything weighed down on him, the attack against Penelope the final break. His days spun in endless circles, small increments of sleep that had him constantly on edge as his school work and prefect duties began to suffer. He did his best to keep up with his parents’ demands of keeping an eye on his younger siblings and Harry, making sure they stayed out of trouble but in that too it felt like he was failing. Fred and George were impossible to keep out of trouble. Ron and Harry, he kept an eye out for them in the halls, keeping weaker tabs but they were still in his line of vision. Ginny though . . .

Exhausted eyes fell on the youngest of the Weasley’s, Percy’s voice lost in the little usage and dust he inhaled earlier. She looked as he felt and shame flooded his face. “What is it?”

“I need to talk to you.”

There was something in her tone, the softer way that she spoke that made Percy take pause. In his heart he knew this wasn’t Ginny, this wasn’t the behavior of his little sister in the slightest. The fire in her was out, had been for some time. He had done everything he could to help her, even going against rules and brewing her a pepper-up potion that had no effect. He kept the news from his parents, led them to believe that Ginny’s first year was going perfect, that he had everything under control. The idea of failure terrified him, the concept that in some way he would let his parents down in his inability to behave like a parent figure and raise his siblings. It didn’t matter now, he had already failed them and lost the privilege of being seen as perfect; of being seen at all. 

“If this is about Penny, I really don’t want to talk about it. I’m rather bu-”

“This isn’t about your girlfriend!”

Her voice echoed around them and Percy glared in her direction. “That you’re not supposed to go around shouting your mouth off about, mind you. Anyone could hear you in here.”

“As if people are in here snooping around to hear about your stupid love life? Not everything is about you.” Their eyes locked, a familiar flicker of his sister behind her scowl. “I just need someone to talk to.”

Percy turned back to the rows of books, fought the rise to claw at his forearm as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. He refused to show that the lack of care for him hurt, that she knew he was suffering and still there was something more important to talk about to her. He also needed someone to talk to, and even though he refused to place his problems on Ginny, it would have been nice to have known she cared. 

“If this isn’t about me and Penny, why can’t you talk to Ron or something?”

There was a snort of derision, thuds that violently shook Percy from his reading as she knocked his books to the ground. “I don’t know why I even bothered with you, you’re such a prat.” 

Ginny’s feet hit the ground as she took off out of the library. Book in hand, he paused for a moment in his search for answers, his gaze following after his sister. A part of him wanted to go after her, to make sure she was okay, but he knew better. Any chance he had to her talking to him was gone, the single instance that she actually came to him for help, and once again he failed. Pressure filled his chest, a sudden inability to draw in the next breath as he sat back in his chair and stared out at nothing.

---------

Percy spent the day in the library, inquired about Ginny to anyone who came through. He thought little of it when he heard no one had seen Ginny since the morning, assumed she had hidden away again in her dorm. The sky had darkened by the time Percy had finally emerged from the walls of the library. His head throbbed, no new information on how to speed up the process in healing those that had been petrified, how to bring Penelope back.

The sight of red words in his peripheral vision brought Percy out of his haze, forced him back into the world around him in the deserted corridor. The words sat on the stone wall, the stale smell of copper that assaulted his senses. The horrific message bared down on Percy, rooted him to where he stood.

Her Skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.

The world stalled, a horror that seeped deep into his bones and rose like a wave meant to drown him. In the freshness of the words, Percy backed away, eyes that slowly followed the drops of blood that hit the ground in sync with the books that started out as a lifeline for him. He knew that writing. With every beat of his heart, Percy felt it sink further, plummeting into suspended disbelief to what he was seeing - what he knew in his gut.

"Ginny . . ."