Keeper's Secrets

Boxing Day, 1994

Percy opened one eye ever so slightly and squinted towards his window, which was lit only with silver moonlight. "Nrgh," Percy grumbled and turned over, pulling the duvet up over his neck and snuggling up closer to Oliver.

I can hear the soft breathing of the boy that I love
As he lies here beside me asleep with the night
And his hair in a fine mist floats on my pillow
Reflecting the glow of the winter moonlight.

He awoke again, several hours later, the moonlight gone and replaced with the pitch-black rattle of his windowpane as the pouring rain struck it at an angle, the wind barrelling down off Dartmoor and across the Burrow.

Percy lay awake, listening to the rain for a long time. The grey, cloudy light got bright enough to cast shadows on the wall and, kissing a softly-snoring Oliver on top of the head, he slipped out of bed and put on his dressing-gown. Oliver mumbled happily and went back to snoring.

Someone told me long ago
There's a calm before the storm
I know...it's been coming for some time
When it's over so they say
It'll rain on a sunny day
I know...shining down like water

I want to know
Have you ever seen the rain?
I want to know
Have you ever seen the rain?

Percy padded down the silent hallway to the loo and, as he washed his hands, he stared at the face in the mirror for several seconds, running his hands through his hair, pulling it up and away from his forehead. To think...less than a week ago, he and Oliver were not together, still 'just friends', though friends with secret infatuations for each other. It felt like the world was rushing by so quickly while he and Oliver were walking slowly, hand in hand, along a beach, admiring the view.

Percy frowned and leaned forward onto the sink, running the water and splashing it on his face. Now that the continual adrenalin rush of the past six days was starting to wear off, he was concerned about Oliver's parents, he realised. He knew that Oliver needed them, needed their support, or else he'd have to find that support elsewhere. Percy frowned again.

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf Heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least:
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee,--and then my state
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings'.

Notwithstanding all the surreptitious reading about gay issues and facts and opinions and everything else that a young man who has a crush on his male best friend does, Percy was still at a loss as to how to deal with the large, parent-shaped hole in Oliver's heart. With time, of course, Oliver would learn to deal without them if necessary...but would that be necessary? Percy frowned again, but caught himself. Having frown wrinkles before hitting twenty was not part of his master plan.

How did I know you had a master plan, Percy's devil said, settling onto his shoulder.

Oh, honestly, there's nothing wrong with being prepared, his angel said, sitting next to the devil.

Oh, I agree, the devil said, squirting the angel with a tiny tube of lubricant before they both disappeared.

Percy blinked and stared in the mirror again, and a pair of eyes stared back at him. "You've changed," he told the face in the mirror aloud, despite the fact that it was not a magical mirror and thus could not reply. Yes, he had changed. And he was going to have to start making changes too. Like telling Penelope about Oliver, and...the gay thing. There really wasn't a better way to put it than 'the gay thing', Percy thought to himself. 'My sexuality' was too clinical, 'me being a fag' was too abrupt and bombshell-ish.

"Penelope, I want to tell you about my boyfriend," Percy tried out aloud to the mirror. Too bombshell-ish? Perhaps.

"Penny, I haven't been totally honest with you, and I regret that very much." Oh, please, you sound like you're going to tell her that you've been nicking Galleons out of her handbag.

"Penelope, there's something I need to tell you." Not bad. But...what if she already knew? What if she was offended by the fact that Percy was assuming that she didn't know?

"Now you're just second-guessing yourself," Percy said to the mirror. Damn straight, his angel replied, popping into view for a brief moment before disappearing again.

"Penny, there's something that I'm not sure if you know or not, but if you don't, then I want to tell you." Gods, if she ever figured out what you were saying between all the negatives and the 'if's...

"Penelope, there's something I need to make sure you know." That's better. Non-committal. It'd certainly seem like he gave her the credit of being able to guess. Although...

"Penny, I need to make sure you know I'm gay." That sounded best. Shorter, more to the point, but still not underestimating her powers of divination.

Percy frowned again and then smoothed his forehead out with his fingers. "No, not stressed about this at all, not me," he said to his reflection with a grin and a sigh. "Shit."

When you're standing in deep water
And you're bailing yourself out with a straw
And when you're drowning in deep water
And you wake up making love to a wall
Well it's these little times that help to remind
It's nothing without love.

He padded back down the hallway towards his room and slipped back into bed next to Oliver. There were a few noises coming from the kitchen downstairs, but the grandfather clock in the hallway had read You've Got Ages Yet, so he felt justified in going back to sleep.

Except, Percy realised three seconds later, that his mind was still running at Firebolt speed. It was Penny, he thought. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but at the same time, she needed to know that he was not going to -- could not -- love her as anything more than a good friend. What would she think of him? How would she react?

He stared at the ceiling. Would it be easier for her to know that the reason Percy was calling their relationship off was not for another woman? He'd read so much conflicting information from various sources on that question. On the other hand, there was the question of whether she would be embarrassed to have 'turned' Percy gay. He knew that the very idea that that was possible was silly...but did she know that? There was, he realised, a distinct lack of ways for a straight person, particularly a straight wizard or witch, to find out information about gay people and what made them tick.

Percy rolled his eyes at himself. Here he was, lying in bed next to the person he loved more than anything in the world, and being concerned about how the straight wizarding community got its information about issues of sexuality. Damn it, Percy thought. I am anally retentive.

Oliver gave a snuffle and shifted position. But then again, Percy thought, that's not entirely a downside...

Where it was dark now there's light,
Where there was pain now there's joy,
Where there was weakness, I found my strength,
All in the eyes of a boy.

Hush, love, I see a light in the sky,
Oh, it's almost blinding me.
I can't believe I've been touched by an angel with love.
Let the rain come down and wash away my tears.
Let it fill my soul and drown my fears.
Let it shatter the walls for a new sun.

A new day has come.
A new day has come.

Oliver was still showering, and Percy sat at the kitchen table, playing with his now-cold piece of toast. Crumbs crackled off it, falling onto his jumper and jeans, but he was lost in thought and didn't notice.

"Really, Percy, you'd think you were twelve again," his mother said, tutting as the crumbs fell to the floor.

"Hmm? Oh. Sorry, Mum."
Molly sat down on the chair opposite him and folded her hands into her apron. "What's wrong, Percy?"

Percy didn't meet her eyes. "Things."

His mother took his hands into hers and tried to make eye contact. "What sort of things, love?"

"Penny things. I haven't the foggiest what to do about them, either."

Molly sighed. "Oh, I see. What are you thinking of doing?"

"Well, I can either go see her and tell her. Or not."

"I know I sound terribly old saying this, dear, but nothing good ever came of waiting around with something like this."

"I know, Mum, but...it's not that easy."

"Nothing worth doing ever is," she said gently.

Percy sighed. "All right. So I do go and tell her...and then what? How do I tell her?"

Molly smiled at her son. "You'll work something out, I know you will."

Percy sighed, his forehead crinkling.

When I find myself in times of trouble,
Mother Mary comes to me,
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be,
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

Footsteps came from outside the kitchen and a figure came round the door.

"Oh, here's Oliver. Tea, Oliver dear?" Molly asked, getting up and heading for the teapot.

"Oh, yes please," Oliver said, heading over to Percy.

"Morning," Percy said, reaching up for Oliver's head and pulling it down towards him.

"Hiya, gorgeous," Oliver murmured into Percy's ear while Molly was pouring the tea. He nipped gently at the tip of Percy's ear.

Percy sighed again, a mixture of contentedness and sadness.

"What's wrong, darling boy?" Oliver asked concernedly.

"Penny," Percy said. "Don't know what to do."

"Tell her, sooner rather than later," Oliver said.

Molly came over with Oliver's tea. "See? We agree on that, Percy dear," she said.

"All right. Oliver, will you come with me?"

"Why don't you send Hermes?" his mother suggested as she walked out of the kitchen with a basket full of washing.

"Good idea," Percy said with a sigh, reaching behind him for a piece of paper.

Dear Penny,

I really need to see you soon. We need to talk about some things that I can't really put in an owl. How about Diagon Alley sometime this afternoon? Send Hermes back with your reply.

--Percy

"Perce," Oliver said gently. "That sounds like an 'I'm about to dump you' letter."

"It is," Percy said.

Oliver caught his voice for a second. "You're right. It is."

"Is it really that bad?" Percy asked.

"Well... try this. Let me dictate."

Dear Penny,

Haven't seen you in ages -- I miss chatting to you. Want to meet up for some ice-cream in Diagon Alley today? Send Hermes back with a note.

--Percy

"Ol, that's a bit disingenuous," Percy said. "It sounds like I just want to meet her for a chat, rather than to...you know."

"Tell her you're gay?" Oliver said, comfortingly. "Perce, I don't know... Are you ready for this? If you can't say it to yourself, do you really want to start stuttering when you have to tell Penny?"

Percy closed his eyes for a long second. "You're right. As usual."

Oliver draped his arms around Percy. "Be strong, my Percy."

It'll be fine lover of mine
It'll be just fine

Lend your voices only to sounds of freedom,
No longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from,
Fill your lives with love and bravery
And you shall lead a life uncommon

I've heard your anguish, I've heard your hearts cry out.
We are tired, we are weary, but we aren't worn out.
Set down your chains, until only faith remains,
Set down your chains.

And lend your voices only to sounds of freedom,
No longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from,
Fill your lives with love and bravery
And we shall lead a life uncommon

They arrived in Diagon Alley to find the Leaky Cauldron absolutely heaving with people. It seemed like everybody and their grandmother was out returning presents that were the wrong size. Percy remembered from Muggle Studies that non-wizards had the day off on Boxing Day. Apparently, he recalled, Muggles didn't call it Boxing Day because you boxed up all the presents you didn't want and returned them. The Muggle holiday had something to do with masters giving servants the day off, but no house elf had ever wanted the day off, particularly not at this busiest time of the year.

They weaved around an old witch with a walking stick and a stuffed badger on her head, and headed into the Alley. The sun didn't look like it was going to come out any time soon, so the Alley was quite chilly and covered with slush from the heavy frost.

Remember, Percy's angel said to him from on top of his left shoulder, don't touch him in public. You don't want to out yourself that way.

Oh, fuck that, the devil said disgustedly from the other side of his shoulder. Do you really care what people who don't know you think?

Except that there are a lot of people here who do know you, the angel said, and you probably will have to talk to them at some point. You'll probably want to get a job from some of them, too.

Do you really want to work somewhere where people hate you? the devil asked.

"Oh, shut up," Percy said absent-mindedly.

"What?" Oliver looked at him.

"Oh. Not you. Sorry, talking to myself."

So we're okay, we're fine
Baby I'm here to stop your crying,
Chase all the ghosts from your head.
I'm stronger than the monster beneath your bed,
Smarter than the tricks played on your heart.
We'll look at them together then we'll take them apart
Adding up the total of a love that's true
Multiply life by the power of two

Percy and Oliver picked their way along the Alley until they reached Quality Quidditch Supplies, where Oliver caught sight of the Firebolt in the window.

"Ooh, let's go in," Oliver said, dragging Percy by the sleeve into the shop. He headed straight for the Firebolt, reaching out to touch it, but being deflected by the protective charms the shop had placed on the exceedingly expensive broom.

"Look at all these features, Perce," Oliver said. "It even has a hex-repelling charm."

Percy looked affably at the admittedly gorgeous broomstick. It was nice enough, but not worth spending--

"Look how much it is!" he gasped.

"Yeah, I know," Oliver said. "Deadly."

Oliver wandered off to look at the range of new charms for broomsticks and Percy poked around the toy broom section. He settled on a model Firebolt for Oliver and brought it over to the harried-looking wizards at the till, who were attempting to stop a group of small children from pawing at the signed copies of posters of the Montrose star Seeker, Gregor MacGrunty, grinning toothily and waving. Taking his purchase into a quieter corner -- one which was only as busy as Platform 9 3/4 on the first of September -- he pulled out his wand and snapped the wizard figure riding the Firebolt into two.

He stuck the top half of the wizard onto the broomstick behind its legs, and Transfigured each half into one full figure. Carefully shaping the new figures, he turned the front figure's robes into a black woolly jumper with a golden O and white Snitch wings, black corduroy trousers, and made its hair short and dark brown. The eyes were already deep brown, so he left those. The figure behind that one he positioned so that its arms were around the first one and its head was planting a kiss on the other's cheek. He changed the hair to curly ginger and the clothes to a silver jumper with a dark grey P and grey khakis. Satisfied, Percy stuck the broomstick into his pocket and looked around for Oliver.

He found him in the queue for the till (the wizards having put Leg-Locker curses on the poster-pawing children), waiting to buy The Puddlemere United Official Annual, leafing through the pages while he waited.

"You really are obsessed," Percy said, peering over Oliver's shoulder.

"Bloody hell!" Oliver jumped and snapped his head around. "You made me jump."

"I noticed," Percy said, nudging Oliver in the ribs with his elbow.

I've been waiting since I can't remember
I've been waiting just to find somebody true
Somebody like you
Do you know?
I'll never let you go

It had started to rain as they made their way out into the Alley again, and Percy steered Oliver under the eaves of the stationery shop and into Flourish & Blotts, which was only slightly less busy than Quality Quidditch. This time, however, there were fewer children pawing the merchandise but more ancient yet sprightly witches with canes to manoeuvre around. Oliver followed Percy around the display table and up the stairs, in the direction of the Mythology section, which was hidden behind an extremely large bookshelf filled with multi-volume sets of reference books. Oliver spotted titles like The Compendium Of Magical Maladies And Ailments by Evangeline Grundlewamp, Lystmamber's Wytches Encyclopaedia of Goblyn Hystory and The Wizard's Atlas, 1823 edition.

"Look," Percy said excitedly, "I've found something on Israfel."

"Who?" Oliver asked, wandering around the corner and looking at the book Percy held up. It was entitled Israfel, Angel of Song and on the front there was a stunning-looking angel with fluffy white wings and a gleaming torso with his mouth open as if he was singing.

"Israfel, the mythical angel of songs," Percy said. "Sort of like a Muse."

"Huh," Oliver said. "Is there an angel of Quidditch?"

"Er...I'd doubt it," Percy said with a grin. "Unless we're talking about you, darling boy."

"Flirt," Oliver said, reaching down to kiss the top of Percy's head and squeeze Percy's shoulder muscles with his strong hands. "But that's not that bad a thing."

Percy grinned and tilted his head back for a long kiss. He stood up and they walked around the reference bookshelf, down the stairs and into the queue, where a hag was arguing about the returns policy.

"Madam," the young witch was saying firmly, "it states quite clearly on this large sign here that books on hexes and curses are not returnable."

"But none of them work," the hag protested.

"Then complain to the author, madam."

"I'll hex you!"

"I thought you said they didn't work," the witch said, handing the book back to the hag and calling out, "next, please!"

The hag wandered off, looking very disgruntled, and Percy took her place at the counter. The witch tapped the price charm with her wand and it glowed red, detached from the book and hovered in the air in front of Percy.

"Four Sickles and two Knuts," the witch said as Percy clanked through his wallet to find the correct change while she put the book in a bag for him. He paid the witch, who waved her wand at the price, which then disappeared.

They walked towards the door and peered out of the windows. The rain was coming down heavily now, and everywhere there were witches and wizards with Impervius bubbles around their bodies, little scurrying domes of running water, reflecting the dull light from the sky and the lights from the shops.

Percy quickly muttered "Impervii," and waved his wand around Oliver's head and his own as they opened the door. He felt the slightly charged aura spring up around his head as the double dome took effect. The rain bounced off the invisible wall around them both as they stood under the Flourish & Blotts awning.

Humidity is rising...barometer's getting low
According to all sources, the street's the place to go
Cause tonight for the first time
Just about half-past ten
For the first time in history
It's gonna start raining men.

"Fortescue's?" Oliver said. "I really fancy their white chocolate praline ice cream right now."

"Okay, but how can you even think of eating ice cream on a day like this?" Percy asked as they hurried across the Alley to Fortescue's, which was, unsurprisingly, sparsely occupied.

Only a few, mostly younger, people were sitting at the small tables inside, and Florean Fortescue looked quite bored. Oliver noticed Marcus Flint, Slytherin's captain, sitting in the corner with several other Slytherins, and studiously ignored him.

"One cone of white chocolate praline, please," Oliver said as he reached the counter.

"Nuts? Chocolate syrup? Butterscotch pieces?" Fortescue asked as he reached in and scooped out the creamy white ice cream ribboned with golden caramel and pecan nuts.

"No, thanks," Oliver said, handing over the correct change before Fortescue asked for it.

"And I'll have the egg-nog flavour, with whisky sauce, in a cone," Percy said after studying the board of flavours and picking one of the seasonal ones.

"Anything else on it?" Fortescue asked as he drizzled the amber whisky syrup over Percy's cone.

"No, thanks," Percy said, sliding his own coins across the counter and taking the cone from Fortescue.

"Enjoy," the man said, returning to his stool behind the counter and picking up his copy of the Daily Prophet.

Oliver and Percy headed for the deep, long alcove in the back of the shop, on the other side and out of view of Flint and the Slytherins. They sat down at the table at the back of the alcove as the bells on the door jangled loudly, and licked their ice creams in appreciative silence.

"Want a lick?" Oliver asked.

"Mmm," Percy said, and swapped cones with him.

"Gorgeous," they both agreed, handing the cones back again.

Oh it's such a perfect day
I'm glad I spent it with you
Oh such a perfect day
You just keep me hanging on...

Just a perfect day
Problems all left alone
Weekenders on our own
It's such fun...

Percy licked his fingers clean after finishing his ice cream as Oliver began to crunch down his cone. Wiping them on a napkin, Percy reached into his pocket and brought out the little Firebolt with its two figures and hid it with his hands on the table, looking up at Oliver and smiling.

"What've you got there?" Oliver asked as he wiped his hands clean.

"A present. Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

Oliver did so, and Percy handed over the model. "And open them."

"Oh, wow!" Oliver said, grinning from ear to ear and lifting the model broom higher to get a closer look.

"Do you like it?" Percy asked.

"Like it? I love it," Oliver grinned. "Oh! Look! It's us on the broom! Oh, Percy, it's perfect."

Percy beamed and pulled out his wand, tapping himself and Oliver on the head. "Minianima," he said, flicking it at the broomstick.

A wave of magic washed over the two lifeless figures, which stretched as if they were waking up. The Oliver figure looked up at Oliver as the Percy figure looked up at Percy. Blinking, the models looked at each other and hugged closer on the broomstick, the Percy model reaching round to kiss the Oliver model.

It's a perfect day,
Tomorrow's going to come too soon
I could stay forever as I am
On this perfect day

I'm in the race but I've already won
And getting there can be half the fun
So don't stop me 'til I'm good and done,
Don't you try to rain on my
Perfect day
It's a perfect day

It's a perfect day
Nothing's gonna bring me down
I could stay forever as I am
On this perfect day

"Percy...I just...don't know what to say," Oliver said, his voice cracking. "It's...it's more than fantastic. It's simply brilliant."

"You do like it, then?" Percy asked.

"You silly prat, I adore it." Oliver leaned forward and kissed Percy deeply, their eyes closing, leaving themselves only to the sensation of the moment.

Over to their left, towards the front of the shop, came a gasp and a sort of crunchy splat. Their heads whipped round.

"Oh, fuck..." Oliver breathed as he saw Penelope Clearwater standing in the entrance to the alcove, about ten feet away. Her hands were at her mouth and her eyes were open wide and staring at them. Her ice cream -- toffee and mint, it looked like -- had exploded on the floor, sending green and brown fragments and globs everywhere.

Oliver's hands let go of the Firebolt and figures, which tumbled to the table and dislodged the Percy figure. The figure stood, rounded the broom and sat down backwards on it, facing the Oliver figure and pulling himself closer to him. The Oliver figure let go of the broom and reached for the Percy figure's head, pulling him closer for a deep, long kiss.

"I...I...Penny, I can explain," Percy stammered. "Come over here and sit down."

Penelope stood stock still where she was. "I don't think I want to, Percy," she said.

"Please, Penny," Percy said, sounding desperate.

Penny walked, zombielike, towards them. "I just saw...I just saw you two kissing," she said as she sat down.

Percy gulped. Oliver saw the lump in his throat and heard it as Percy tried to speak. "Penny, I...I'm gay."

Penelope blinked as if the world was coming back into focus. "And...me? When was I going to...going to find out?"

"I sent you an owl--"

"--an owl?" Penelope's eyes narrowed. "You sent me an OWL? I'm your girlfriend -- or I thought I was, and you sent me an owl?"

Percy swallowed again, trying to force the lump to subside. "Yes, I thought--I wanted to--I thought I ought to..." Percy broke off as Penelope's eyes fell on the Firebolt, on which the two figures were indulging in some fairly heavy petting.

"You thought you ought to what? Get around to telling me, sometime, somewhere, that you were lying to me the entire time we've been going out?" Penelope's voice cracked. "You heartless bastard, Percy Weasley. You complete, utter bastard."

"Penny, I--" Percy stammered as he saw several people enter the alcove. It was Flint and several other Slytherins, including, he saw now, Draco Malfoy.

"You...you lied to me. You made me believe you were in love with me. Doesn't that count for anything? Don't you think you owe me anything for being in love with you?"

"Penny, I--I'm sorry, I--"

"Well, that makes it all better. I'll just go now, and wonder how long you two have been together while I was so obviously deluded," she said, standing up. "You're a liar, Percy Weasley. A liar and a poof, a dirty little poof. I regret the day I set eyes on you."

Turning on her heel with her head held high and her cheeks flaming, Penelope marched straight through the Slytherins, who parted like ice before a flaming sword. Percy followed her with his eyes, emotions pouring from them with his tears. He turned away as she strode out of sight around the corner of the alcove, to hide his tears from the Slytherins. Oliver reached out a hand and placed it on Percy's arm, but Percy didn't respond to his touch.

"Well now, isn't that--" Draco Malfoy began in his sneering drawl.
Oliver turned to see Marcus Flint flick an outstretched palm up in front of Malfoy, who stopped in astonishment.

"Not a word, Malfoy," Flint said, gesturing for his team to stand back while he walked up to Percy and Oliver.

"Hi," Flint said quietly, crouching down at the table with a look in his eyes that Oliver had never seen before. "Look, Wood, I, er, know we've never been on good terms. You too, Weasley. But -- I know what you feel like...I'm sorry. They won't say a word," he said, cocking his head back at the other Slytherins. "I'll make sure of that. If you, either of you, need to talk, owl me."

"Flint, I--I--" Oliver started.

"Shh. He needs you," Flint said, nodding at Percy. "But...owl me."

Flint stood, straightened up and walked back to the Slytherins. "Malfoy, if I hear you've breathed a word of this to a soul, you and I will have an unpleasant encounter, understand?"

"Yeah," Malfoy said sullenly.

"I'm not sure you do," Flint said, walking away from Oliver and Percy. "Let me explain exactly what will happen if you do ever tell anyone."

The Slytherins walked out of sight and Oliver turned all of his attention to Percy. He left his chair and crouched down next to Percy's chair, wrapping his arms around his lover and squeezing him tight.

"Don't worry," Oliver said, knowing how inadequate that sounded. "Don't worry, I love you. I will always be here for you. I will always protect you, and watch over you, and...oh, Percy."

Weep, O mine eyes, and cease not,
Weep, O mine eyes, and cease not.
Alas, these your springtimes,
These your springtimes,
Methinks increase not.
Oh, when begin you to swell so high
That I may drown me in you,
That I may drown me in you.

The emotional cycle that had been the previous week suddenly flew apart. Oliver had been coping with all the worry and pain and rejection and uncertainty by simply loving Percy, and Percy's grief overwhelmed Oliver's defences like a tidal wave of pain. Oliver felt not only the rejection of his own parents, but Penny's rejection of Percy as she stood there in fury. His tears flowed freely now, running down his cheeks as he buried his head in Percy's shoulder, and Percy buried his head in Oliver's. Their bodies shook with the wracking sobs of people whose worlds have just collapsed around them, the Firebolt with its oblivious figures forgotten on the table.

Miserere mei, Deus
secundum magnam misericordiam tuam;
et secundum multitudinem miserationum tuarum
dele iniquitatem meam.

English Translation:

Have mercy upon me, O God,
according to thy lovingkindness:
according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies
blot out my transgressions.