Father of Mine

Father of Mine

I just closed my eyes, and my world disappeared.

It was sunny and beautiful, the air warming Percy Weasley's shoulders through his thin

robes as he walked leisurely up the path toward the Burrow. He could Apparate, of course, and be home in two seconds, but he wanted to savor his happiness and solitude for a few more minutes.

The day had been exhausting, yet exhilarating. Percy had been absolutely petrified when Fudge had summoned him to a meeting, but had listened in incredulous delight as he had been offered the position. Junior Assistant to the Minister. He had been working there a year, and already he was that far up. He had been so sure that his job had been done for after the Crouch fiasco, had been prepared to give up every dream that he had ever had, face his father's disappointment, and his mother's loving but sad platitudes, but now he was coming home with something to make them both proud. Mum had always been proud of him, showering him with compliments at every victory, but Dad was another story. Percy always pretended not to notice his father snickering at the twins' snide remarks, the quick roll of his eyes whenever Percy talked about work. His father didn't respect him, didn't seem too particularly fond of him. Percy couldn't remember ever receiving a compliment from Arthur, rather, he remembered the twins never being told off for picking on him, Dad not saying a word when Bill and Charlie made fun of him in that joking, light-hearted, but yet so cruel way. His father loved him, he was certain, but nothing Percy did seemed to make him proud.

This time, however, Arthur would have no choice but to be impressed. No one else had ever risen so quickly in the Ministry that Percy knew of. That had to count for something, didn't it? Percy had to be something special for the Minister to take notice of him so early.

You know that's not the reason, a nasty voice whispered from deep inside his brain. You completely mucked up the first job, you know Fudge would never want you on your own merit. He knows your family is close to Dumbledore, he wants information...

Percy stopped his train of thought before it could go further, it was useless anyway. Even if Fudge had chosen him on the basis of things that Percy did not wish to contemplate, he could still shine. He could completely earn his way, get Fudge and the rest of the Ministry to take notice. Just because he might not have gotten the job on talent alone didn't mean that he couldn't perform wonderfully.

As Percy opened the front door to the kitchen his heart pounded in confident expectation. He imagined seeing the look of delight on his mother's face, hearing those long-desired words from his father: I'm proud of you, Percy. It was almost painful, this feeling of anticipation and joy. Percy had never felt so hopeful, and had never looked forward to something as much as this. Rigid control of emotions was extremely helpful when it came to work and getting ahead, but it was certainly a treat to let go, let the happiness fill him and erase all his doubts.

Arthur and Molly were both in the sitting room as Percy came in, and looked up in trepidation. Ron and Bill were there too, apparently waiting to see what had happened in the meeting. The pity in all of their eyes made it clear that they were expecting that he had been sacked, or severely reprimanded. Percy almost smiled in delight, thinking about how shocked and pleases everyone would be at the news.

"How was the meeting, dear," Molly asked anxiously, rising to her feet and enveloping her third son into an embrace. "What did Fudge want?" Percy smiled at her and hugged back. A look of surprise came over her face. Percy rarely returned her embraces, and he saw a dawning of hope in her eyes, as if she was wondering if the meeting hadn't gone so badly after all.

"Well, he offered me a new position," Percy then said. He smiled inwardly at the surprised gasp from his mother, the raised eyebrow from Bill, and the dumbfounded look on Ron's face. Only Arthur remained fairly impassive, though Percy saw something pass through his eyes. "He wants me to be the Junior Assistant to the Minister!"

Percy waited on tenterhooks for the compliments, the happiness, just some positive acknowledgment, but after a few moments it seemed none was forthcoming. Bill leaned back in his chair, surveying his younger brother with a worried, sympathetic look. Ron was still looking thunderstruck, but a slight dawning of comprehension had stolen into his eyes, and the pity that was so apparent on Bill's face had begun to settle into Ron's countenance. Molly's kind brown eyes were full of anxiety, and she reached out to gently smooth Percy's hair. And still Arthur said and did absolutely nothing.

"Well, what do you think?" Percy said after a few moments, to break the uncomfortable silence and mask his own worry.

Arthur then stood up, walked over to his son, and lay a hand on his shoulder. Percy stiffened under the unexpected rare touch, and looked at his father's placating face.

"Look, Percy, I don't know if it would be such a good idea for you to take the job," he said in a quiet, patronizing (or so Percy imagined it) voice.

"And why not?" Percy snapped, the indignant tone slightly ruined by the shakiness of his voice. He didn't want to listen to his doubts being spelled out by his own father, he simply wanted to hear that he had done well, that his father was proud of him. They could talk about the other things later. Why couldn't Arthur give him this one time to feel good, to feel like he had done well?

"Son, you know that your job with Crouch did nothing to help your reputation," Arthur began slowly, trying to be gentle, apparently not realizing that his words would put a knife through his son's heart. "I truly doubt that Fudge would hire you on as his assistant without some other reason."

"And that reason would be?" Percy prompted, not wanting to hear this, but at the same time wanting to so he could refute it, say it wasn't true.

"To put it bluntly, I'm sure he wants to use you to get information about Dumbledore," Arthur said quickly, then wincing as he saw his son's face fall. "I'm sorry, Percy, it's just that Fudge knows that our family is close to Dumbledore, and he's determined to get to everyone who supports him. What better way than to have you in his office? I'm sure he knows you're eager to please, that you would tell him things that he wants to know about Dumbledore's activities."

Percy stood, staring at his father in horror. So this is what Arthur truly thought of him? That he was talentless, that he brown-nosed and didn't have enough brains to keep his mouth shut when important? Is that why Dad had never given him the approval that he desired, because he thought so badly of him? The knowledge of his father's feelings, that Percy would probably never hear what he needed from him, felt like a kick to the stomach. His breaths were coming in shallow bursts, and he felt sick. Had Arthur always thought so little of him?

"Percy, I'm sorry." Arthur said again, giving his son's shoulder a quick squeeze. "But you do have to face facts."

"Face facts?" Percy repeated, his horror and unhappiness suddenly defeated by white hot rage, at himself for allowing hope, at Arthur for trying to destroy his dreams. "How do you know? Why can't I have gotten this job on merit, not because Fudge wants to use me as a spy?"

"Percy, listen," Arthur said. Percy hated the patronizing expression and the placating tones of his voice.

"So Dad, you really think that I don't deserve it, that I could never get this job without some stupid ulterior motive?" Percy asked, mortified that his voice cracked on the last word. He just couldn't stand the fact that, yet again, his father would not be proud of him. Arthur looked horrified at the thought that his son might cry, and tried to backtrack.

"I didn't say that, dear, it's just that your reputation precedes you, and Fudge-"

"Dad, if any reputation precedes me it would be yours," Percy snarled, wanting to make his father hurt at least half as bad as he was. "Everyone thinks you're so odd, with your weird Muggle obsession, your stupid collections and your stupid job. That's why we don't have any money, because your half-witted obsession keeps you back. It's pathetic, you know. Everyone expects me to be just like you, and I have to fight against it every damn day. In fact, you're right, it's a miracle that Fudge would think of me at all, considering who I'm related to."

Percy ignored the sharp intakes of breath from Ron and Bill, ignored his mother's gasp of horror. All he could think about was hurting this man in front of him, the man who claimed to love him yet laughed at his shortcomings, talents, and basically every part of his personality with his brothers. The man who would not even for a second consider that his son might have earned this job on his own merit. The man that had just bashed his son's every hope to the ground.

"Percy, don't be ridiculous," Arthur now said, trying to mask his anger with a soothing tone. "My reputation has nothing to do with this. But your's does."

"And my reputation is what got me the job? Not anything positive about my reputation, mind you, just that I'm an idiotic blabbermouth."

"Percy, I didn't say that. I'm sorry that's what you heard-"

"No, apparently you aren't, or you never would have said it!" Percy snapped, his voice close to a yell.

"I said it because it's true!" Arthur had raised his voice slightly, and was losing control of his emotions. Percy took that to mean that his comments had hurt him, and felt a vindictive pleasure that was almost foreign to him. He rarely tried to hurt people. "You can't go around deluded, Fudge will take advantage of you, make a fool out of you, you have to see the truth before you get hurt!"

"If anyone's deluded it's you!" Percy shot back. "Fudge has got it in for Dumbledore, because the man's running around spreading lies. It's stupid of you to back him up with no proof."

"How dare you!" Arthur spat, coming as close to a yell as he had so far. "Harry's word is good enough for me."

"Then you are absolutely pathetic. You're throwing your entire life away on the word of a mentally disturbed fourteen-year-old! You think I'm stupid, but I'd never do anything as foolish as that!"

"And that's less stupid than following a man who refuses to even consider that You-Know-Who is back, who won't even investigate?" Arthur's voice was truly a yell now, and his face had turned beet red.

"Fudge is the Minister of Magic," Percy snapped, "and I would take his word over that crackpot Dumbledore any day!"

"Then you are even more of an idiot than I thought you were!" Arthur barked. Percy blinked, a cold feeling rushing through his chest, freezing his heart. So it was true, then. Arthur thought of him as stupid. Arthur saw the look on his son's face, and his expression softened.

"I'm sorry, Percy, that was out of line," he said gently. "I don't think you're an idiot at all."

"Yes, that's why you called me one," Percy said, not caring about the bitterness and hatred apparent in his voice. "I can't believe I actually belong to this family. You lot are a bunch of ignorant fools."

"Well, Percy, you do belong to this family," Arthur snarled. "And as long as you do, you cannot work under Fudge and put us at risk."

"Well then, I don't want to be a part of this family anymore. I'm leaving!" Percy yelled. "And I'll make sure that everyone knows that I have nothing to do with your lot. So, Dad, if your theory is correct, Fudge should sack me in no time!" He gave his father the best sneer he could muster, and marched out of the sitting room, noticing with irritation and irrational hatred that the twins were standing in the doorway and had apparently heard every word, judging by the filthy looks they gave him as he passed. Ignoring them, he strode up the stairs to his room. He pulled out his old battered suitcase and began throwing clothes in, for once not caring about neatness or order. So intent was he on packing that he didn't even realize his mother was in the room until she blew her nose.

Percy looked around toward the door, where Molly was standing with tears streaming down her cheeks, and handkerchief in hand. He couldn't help but feel guilty, but then remembered that she hadn't even spoken a word in his defense, was probably firmly on the side of his father. His rage, which had abated slightly, hit him full-force and he turned back to the task at hand.

"Percy, darling," Molly whispered. Percy hunched his shoulders against her words, trying not to feel ashamed, trying not to feel at all. "Your father and you are just angry. The two of you need to calm down and talk this out later."

"Mum, please," Percy said, trying to sound strong, but unable to keep the shaking out of his voice. "This is for the best. I'm not going to sit around and be dragged down with Dumbledore and his lot." Percy wasn't even sure if he believed that You-Know-Who wasn't back or not, he wasn't even sure what he thought at all, but he certainly wasn't going to crawl back to Arthur and apologize, not after what the man had said.

"But dear-" Molly began, but Percy cut her off.

"So, Mum, do you think he's right?" He asked, noticing with irritation that his voice was trembling even more. She didn't answer, but the look in her eyes told him everything, and abruptly a great overwhelming sadness was fighting to take the place of his anger. His mother, his only champion, didn't even believe in him now.

"Goodbye, Mum," Percy said, trying not to care about the heartbroken look on her face, but failing rather desperately. Taking a deep breath, a quick look at the room that he had slept in since childhood, and one last glance at his mother's tear-streaked face, he Disapparated.