Percy Weasley

 

April 13, 1997
Feet hit the marble floor in quick thuds, long legs barreling through the groups of people without concern or remorse. He could feel every glare, hear every mumbled curse from those that he roughly shoved aside as he bolted through the Ministry. The wand in his hand drove him, pushed him to ignore the fire that quickly took over the nauseating fear that kept him rooted to the spot in the office. Her picture stared up at him from the file on the desk, the smiling face that Percy missed more and more every day. He didn’t think twice, didn’t over analyze like he always did, planning and picturing out a million different scenarios.

Her file was in the muggle born registration commission files. Everyone in the Ministry knew by now what happened to those that were put on the list, how colleagues and friends were brought in and never came back. As Percy quickly skimmed her file, he felt ice creep into his body, freezing time entirely. The rules never crossed his mind as he broke into Runcorn’s office and stole what he hoped was her wand, didn’t give him a moment of pause that what he was doing could hurt not just him, but her as well and his family. All Percy knew was that he had to find Zoshia.

Percy gripped to the corner of the wall as he skidded to a stop, the sudden jarring movement sending his glasses forward. The screams could be heard from beyond the closed doors, screams that cut through Percy and had him instantly pulling open the door. He stood taller as he slipped within the chamber, cold instantly pricking at his skin. Even in all his power at the Ministry, with how much others trusted him due to his estrangement from his family, he was never trusted enough to attend a trial, to see what exactly happened in the registration and now he knew why. Black cloaked figures swooped down one by one, feeding off the male below. Carefully, Percy backed from the room, his presence undetected as the focus moved to the red headed female fighting with Runcorn.

The spell left him quietly, Percy putting everything he had into the transfiguration charm. He was gifted in it, Percy able to transfigure complex and large objects by the time his studies at Hogwarts ended but a person - it was more difficult, drawing out his energy as he concentrated on making Zoshia as small as he could. Percy’s attention switched to the man in the chair, the ball of light drawn from him, the dementors descending before he had a chance to react, to do anything to help the man. The only thing left to do was run.

July 29, 1999
It had been two years since Percy had walked through the halls, two years to the day since he even thought of the nightmare that was just a memory for him, but a reality for Zoshia as she walked ahead of him, lost in her own grief to know that he was following her. Little did she know that he could see it, that since the start of the week Percy felt the shift around her. The fire that burned as bright as her hair faded steadily, nothing left but a wisp of smoke as she walked into the Ministry that morning. She smiled at the sight of him, a smile that usually had him grinning broader from but the smile she greeted him with never reached her eyes, and didn't light up her face. Percy felt it then, felt the skip of his own heart as they parted ways to begin their days, watched her as she hid within herself as she walked away from him.

Her steps came to an end outside the room, a room that Percy knew haunted her dreams and kept her up at night. In the time he woke up hungover at her house he believed the tiredness was down to him but time told a different story as he fought for sobriety. She had been there for him when he fought with his family, pushing him to leave again and Zoshia took him in. He saw it then, heard the cries as she slept that woke her. It was difficult watching anyone receive the kiss of death, Percy not fully over it himself and he only witnessed the end. But to watch the only loved one you had left, to be helpless as a parent suffered a fate worse than death while knowing you would have to sit in the chair they just died in and have your fate determined? Even in all of his suffering Percy couldn’t fathom it, didn’t want too.

Gently, Percy’s hand rested on her shoulder and instantly she tensed, her face buried in her hands as her hair covered her face as well. She was trying to hide it but Percy could feel the shudder in every inhale. He wasn’t good at dealing with emotions, was never an affectionate soul but with Zoshia the need to fix it, to bring back her smile was compelling.

“What do you think they did with him . . . with his body?”

He wanted to have the answer for her, wanted to give her some closure that she would never have. They both knew his soul was gone, that it was trapped and would never cross over. His body though, while it was left behind as a shell Percy still didn’t have the answer. He could have given her a speculation, guessing at what studies have shown that the body itself turns into a dementor or that Umbridge simply disposed of it.

Zoshia turned to face him, eyes large and glassy as she tried to fight it back, to keep her composure and Percy felt a piece of himself break with her that he couldn’t fix this. Falling in love had never been a part of his plan. Percy had been there before, loved fiercely and in the end was burned from it. His heart still held the scorches that Penelope had left, a distrust and hesitation when it came to even just opening up about himself. Zoshia was just supposed to be a friend, nothing in between but Percy knew that feeling shifted the moment he saw her name in that file, that the terror that coursed through him that drove him to go against everything, risk everything just to get her to safety was more than friendship. He felt it morph into something stronger, stronger than he ever felt for Penelope during the battle when he thought he had lost her. It burned brighter every time Zoshia was there for him despite the hurt he caused her. She gave him a reason to fight his demons, to come out on top.

A tear fell from her, Zoshia moving quickly to wipe it away, Percy capturing her hand in his. In all the years they had been friends he had never once seen her break, never saw her strength diminish and silently he let her know that it was okay, that he didn’t see her any differently now. They stared at each other for a moment before Percy pulled her into him, his arms circling around her protectively as she mourned the loss of her father.