Chapter Text
Dotty does not like wizards. Regardless of Percy’s inexperience with dragons, this is an obvious, though not surprising, fact. After waving away Percy’s valid concerns about being ill-suited to care for a dragon with a “Don’t worry, I’ll check in from time to time. Everyone starts this way”, Adina launched into a list of Dotty’s problems:
“We can only guess at what exactly happened, but from what Elena has said, she has a multitude of problems,” she explained, once they had returned to Percy’s hut.
For one, at roughly two metres of length, she is an unimpressively small dragon. This is most likely due to malnourishment, mistreatment and lacking knowledge of dragon breeding. Adina estimates her to be not much older than a year. As soon as he was alone again, Percy scoured over his dragon breeding book. As a Romanian Longhorn she should reach a size of twelve meters at two years old. Her scales should be of a dark green colour, her horns glittering golden and sturdy enough to skewer her prey and roast it in her fire afterwards. The two little stubs on Dotty’s head and the pale green scales covering her small body definitely don’t measure up to this description. She should also have a considerably more muscular build, Longhorns being known for their short but bulky physique. They should also be able to breathe fire and start to fly at eight months, both of which Dotty had yet to show, though this is rather fortunate for Percy.
Then there is her attitude. From what Elena has told them, Dotty doesn’t get along with other dragons. No matter the gender, breed or age, she cowers at the sight of them, spitting smoke when approached. For a young Longhorn, this is a worrying behaviour. Though Percy has yet to see any of this, as Dotty’s reaction to wizards is to duck into the nearest hole she can find.
“Perfect for you to challenge that,” Adina says at breakfast the next morning.
And as far as challenges go, this one is a decidedly awkward one. The first time Percy meets Dotty on his own, clad in fire resistant clothing, he doesn’t so much as get a peek at her snout. The stables are modelled after each dragon breed’s usual choice of dens, so she has a small cavern inside, which she does not leave. Adina’s advice upon telling her this is to ‘just sit’ with the dragon, so he does. At first rather uncomfortably, the stiff upper body armour pressing into all the wrong places while he sits as still as possible, tense and bored at the same time. But once he starts bringing his breakfast with him, he at least has something to do. This goes on for the better part of a week, and he starts believing that progress is slowly happening, catching a glimpse of a snout or the reflection of a peeking pair of eyes here and there. That is, until he leaves one day, the heavy metal door slipping out of his grip and falling shut with a resounding bang. He stood there, holding his breath, feeling weirdly guilty, even when there was no noticeable reaction inside. His instinct is proven right, though, when there is no sign of Dotty the next morning. Neither is there the day after, or the day after that. There is no denying that he messed up; because of his inattentiveness all progress is lost now. Which is what he plans to tell Adina, waiting for her in the mess after another failed visit, mindlessly thumbing through his nearly finished Dracones Occidentum, preparing to admit that he appreciates her confidence in him, but he clearly cannot take care of this dragon, or any dragon at all, for that matter.
It is Charlie who arrives instead, his surprised expression followed by a genuine smile when he sees his brother. Percy tries to reciprocate, a wave of guilt hitting him. Since he eats his breakfast on his visits to Dotty, they hardly see each other. And while not a conscious effort, the lessened contact may have been somewhat of a plus for him.
“Morning, Perce. How’s it going with little Dotty?” Charlie asks, plopping down into the chair across from him. His hair is plastered onto his forehead with sweat, his clothes rumpled and caked with drying dirt. They are transporting two of their dragons to a different location today, Percy remembers with an internal slap to his head, no wonder there is hardly anyone here.
“Horribly,” he says honestly, envying the poor sheep being roasted by the Longhorn on the drawing in front of him.
“Romanian Longhorn, hm?” Charlie says, tilting his head to get a better look at Percy’s book. “You know, I took a little peek at her the other day,” he continues, “don’t you think she’s more of a Common Welsh?”
Percy frowns. Adina said she would check in from time to time and Percy wasn’t told to feed Dotty, so clearly someone else does, but Charlie practically looking over his shoulder, visiting Dotty when Percy isn’t there, does rankle him.
“Her horns are golden and are starting to grow out in a straight line, those are only found on Romanian Longhorns. The horns of a Common Welsh Green are a yellowish white and curve back,” he says instead.
Charlie hums in thought. “Have you considered that she might be a mix?”
“Adina says those don’t survive outside the egg,” Percy replies.
“And usually she’s right, but Longhorns and Common Welsh’s aren’t all that different from each other and stories of them cross breeding do exist. Common Welsh’s are also a lot smaller. And seeing how stunted she is, it’s not too farfetched. It might be unusual, but it’s not impossible.”
“Right,” Percy replies, his eyes wandering back to the drawing of the Longhorn. Disregarding what he believes to be the truth is hard, but he can see his brother’s reasoning. “And what would that mean?”
“Common Welsh Greens are much more subdued, for one. They’re pretty shy when it comes to humans. Have you tried throwing her some rats or sheep while you’re over there? Usually young Common Welsh’s like to eat with their mother and nest mates. They’re a lot more family oriented than most dragons. Wouldn’t hurt to talk to her a bit, obviously she won’t understand, but they’re usually chatty little things. Do be mindful, though,” Charlie gives him a careful look, “the young ones are really sensitive to their den’s feelings and can get agitated if their mother is troubled.”
Percy isn’t completely convinced of Charlie’s theory and thinking of himself as a dragon’s mother does little to instil any confidence in him. Regardless, his brother just offered him a plan of action and not having to disappoint Adina’s faith in his work just yet is worth the try.
So he thanks Charlie and does as he said: Every morning before breakfast he dresses in his fire resistant clothing, grabs some frozen rats or sheep parts from their storage and tries to enjoy his breakfast while their bodies thaw some metres away from him, talking about whatever nonsense comes to his mind. As the days go on he extends his visits, taking over the feeding as well, only staying in the mess to enjoy an occasional, corpse free, lunch.
And to his amazement, it starts working.
---
It is half a week later, almost three weeks into his stay at the sanctuary, when he comes to prepare his and Dotty’s breakfast, that Bill’s owl reaches them. As Charlie soothes the frazzled bird, Percy re-reads the brief message.
“Charlie,
I’m on my way. So long as the Germans aren’t as slow as the French, I will be there by sundown.
Prepare the food!
Bill”
“Is this from Bill?” Florian asks, squinting at the letter gripped in Percy’s hand. Percy nods and shoves it into his hands, before grabbing his things and fleeing to Dotty’s stable. In front of her door, hand reaching out or the handle, he catches himself. She might be more trusting now, their relationship progressing steadily, but that’s no reason to risk a repeat of the last door incident. So he takes a few deep breaths and only when his hands stop shaking does he enter. Dotty has taken to wait for him near the entrance of her cave nowadays, snout stretched as far toward the door as it can go, sniffing for Percy’s offerings. As soon as the door latches behind him he throws her the handful of rats he had grabbed earlier. She huffs some smoke in pleasure and then throws herself at her breakfast, not even glancing at him once he sits down. It hits him then, that he might only have a few more days with her, and he has to work hard to keep up a stream of words without letting his feelings seep into them.
Still, the sun’s climb doesn’t slow and he has to leave Dotty to continue with his remaining organisational work, dragging his feet as if it makes a difference. He knew Bill would come sooner rather than later. He also knew that he cannot hide in the Romanian mountains forever. But knowing and feeling aren’t the same thing, as he had to learn many times over, and once evening arrives it is only the thought of Dotty waiting for him that motivates him enough to march to the mess. The house in the middle of the sanctuary has become a lot more active these past days, Bill’s arrival concluding a week of new faces and names visiting and joining their location. Percy tried to meet everyone when they arrived, but the work at the sanctuary is irregular; the chance of finding the mess empty the same as finding it full of people he has never met, so he gave up quite quickly. Today the chatting and laughing can be heard well away from the building. Percy doesn’t hesitate to listen for familiar voices.
A warm gust of air greets him, the spicy smell of stew bringing him back to his first day here. Bill’s voice pulls him out of those memories in an instant. Percy quietly shuts the door behind him.
“It’s going quite well actually, though Mum says to tell you not to get too comfortable here, you’ll have to come back soon, do some proper work,” Bill says, “She can’t wait for you to come back and wrestle with the gnomes.”
Everyone at the table laughs. And they do take up almost the whole length of it. Most of the people are strangers to Percy, though they seem familiar with Bill, but he can spot Charlie and Florian among them.
“And how long are you hiding out here?” Charlie asks, pointing at Bill with his dripping spoon as if aiming his wand.
”Oh, don’t worry, you’ll have this spot for yourself soon enough. As soon as Pierre and his sisters arrive, I’ll grab Percy and scarper. I’m sure you’ve been itching to get back to civilization, right Perce?”
Percy stops in his track, caught awkwardly on his attempt to sneak into the kitchen. Thankfully the rest of the table has moved on to their own conversations, only Bill’s attention is on him. And Florian’s, who sits next to him.
“Err, right. Of course.” Percy shifts awkwardly on his feet.
Charlie whips around in his chair then, smiling when he sees Percy.
“There you are, Perce! How’s it going with Dotty? Did she like the goat meat I got her?” Charlie says excitedly.
Percy would love to stay and recount Dotty’s brave venture into goat meat to him. He’s actually had some more ideas and updates on her behaviour to go over as well. They have been discussing all things dragon lately, stopping for a quick tale or recommendation whenever their paths cross, but one look at Bill dissuades him from going into detail.
“She did. Actually, I’m heading over now and am in a bit of a hurry,” Percy says, moving towards the kitchen, “don’t want to make her wait!”
“Alright, then-” Charlie starts as Percy reaches the door and closes it behind him.
“Take some stew with you!” Charlie yells after him.
“Will do!” Percy shouts back, hurrying over to the meat storage.
When they talked about Dotty, Bill looked confused. And of course he would, Percy clearly hasn’t told him about his extra work, yet, and apparently neither has Charlie. He quickens his pace. He doesn’t want to be there when someone does.
---
Even in the Romanian mountains, Bill Weasley is popular. And unlike Percy, his brother apparently also has the advantage of having met most of Charlie’s co-workers before. Percy had always assumed that the two of them had visited each other before, but to see the familiarity that Bill has with the sanctuary and its workers wakes a childish fury in him. And to make matters worse Bill – like the grim – manifests in whatever places Percy seeks refuge in. Even the few empty stables aren’t safe from him.
And to add insult to injury, Bill starts taking over Percy’s duties. Conveniently doing so at the exact same time Percy intends to do the same. It is utterly infuriating. The only place that is safe is Dotty’s stable, forcing Percy to spend even more time there, which works for a while, until one evening, when he leaves only to find Bill waiting there for him. Percy gives him a quick nod and attempts to hurry to his hut, but Bill has other ideas.
"You are taking care of a dragon, then. I thought Charlie was joking,” Bill says, matching Percy’s pace effortlessly.
“He wasn’t,” Percy says, eyes on his destination.
“And how’s that going?” Bill asks, sceptically.
“Fine.”
They’re at his building now, only five more steps.
“Don’t you think it’s-“
“Late? It is. Let’s continue this chat tomorrow, Bill. Good night.”
Percy slams the door hut behind him, feeling unbelievably childish for it. That night he goes to bed hungry.
---
That night Percy’s dreams are on fire. Despite their heat, he wakes up shivering, drenched in his own sweat. Those who study Divination believe that the meaning of your dreams depends on the stars’ constellations that night. But when he squints out of his window the sun has already reclaimed the sky and so Percy cleans up, gets dressed and makes his way to the second best method as it is taught in Britain: Reading the drags of his tea. He has found that his lack of imagination is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to Divination, as he cannot for the life of him ‘hear fate’s whisper’ through signs that aren’t there. While this saves him from the doom-filled life Professor Trelawney seems to lead, it did not save his grades. Thankfully, Oliver owed him enough for a year’s worth of homework, and his imagination was plenty for the both of them.
When he downs the still hot liquid this morning, however, its dregs are practically shouting at him. There, on the bottom of his mug, is the unmistakable image of a sapling. He squints down at it, rummaging in his mind for what the textbook said about saplings and fire. It doesn’t take long, and as soon as he does he throws out the dregs and quickly scrubs his mug by hand. Dotty must be growing impatient by now. Hurriedly, he shoves the mug to the back of the cupboard and puts an assortment of rats and sheep meat from the storage onto the counter. There’s something missing.
“You’re up early,” Bill says from behind him, making Percy flinch violently.
“Not really,” he replies, rubbing his aching hand he hit on the counter. He has the meat, put away his mug and he doesn’t feel up for breakfast. What’s missing?
“Do you really think this is a good idea, Perce?” Bill asks. Percy wants to growl what, when he sees his brother’s eyes fixed on the meat on the counter. He knew this conversation would come, but he hoped it wouldn’t be this early.
“Charlie thinks it is,” he replies, keeping his voice even.
Bill gives a long suffering sigh. “Of course Charlie thinks it is, the man’s a lunatic when it comes to dragons, if he could take them with him, they’d be his solution to everything. But while he might forget that you’re not him, I don’t.”
“What?”
“This is nothing against you Percy, you’re a competent and hardworking bloke, but Charlie’s got years of experience, you don’t-“
“No, not that,” Percy interrupts him, his body weirdly numb, “what does he need to solve?”
Bill freezes. Percy can see the cogs turn in his brother’s head.
“That’s clearly not-“
“Solution to what, Bill?”
Bill scrunches his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he opens them again, Percy knows this won’t go well.
“It’s dangerous, Perce,” Bill continues in a calm tone, “you’re not a dragonologist, you can’t handle a dragon. You know, when Dad asked Charlie to take you along, I don’t think this is what he wanted.”
The meaning of his words hits him a few seconds too late. By that time, Percy has already snatched up the meat and stormed out of the door.
“Perce, wait!”
The buildings fly past him as Percy sprints towards the secluded building at the edge of the clearing. A favour. Of course it was a favour. It always is, isn’t it? Percy sees an opportunity, grasps it in his hands with all of his might and then, when he has it secured and safely tucked away, it turns out that it had been handed to him in the first place.
He knows he should have paused in font of the stable door to collect himself, take a deep breath and take at least some control of his emotions. But knowing and doing also isn’t always the same. And maybe, stupidly, Percy forgets for a moment that Dotty isn’t a pet, that for all the progress they have made and all the companionable hours they have spent together, she is still a dragon. A predator. A hurt, vulnerable, young predator.
The door swings open with too much force. Dotty is sitting near the entrance today, impatiently awaiting his late arrival, looking forward to her food, maybe even to him. Quickly, he makes a panicked grab for the heavy, metal door, but it’s too late. With a loud clang it crashes into the side of the building. What happens next is a bit of a blur. Dotty must have startled, her little wings flapping widely in an effort to get away from the noise. And then she must have spit. And Charlie was right, it turns out, a narrow spray of heat shooting his way is etched in his mind. Longhorns spray their fire far and wide. Only the breath of a Common Welsh is that concentrated. It couldn’t have been much more than her black smoke, though, he thinks dazedly, somehow sitting on the cold ground in front of the stable. He’s staring at his melting shirt, blistering red skin peeking through its holes. If it had been real fire, his arm would look a lot worse. Blood is rushing in his ears, still he hears footsteps thundering his way, a voice shouting. He wants to reply the door is still open, but when he rips his gaze from his arm, he finds it already closed. It is only the second that a hand grabs him by his shoulder that the pain sets in.
“Merlin, Percy. What happened?” Bill crashes to his knees beside him. Percy’s response turns into a yelp, his brother manoeuvring his arm to get a better look.
“Bloody- Merlin, Perce, don’t you have protective clothing?!” Bill asks, the grip on his arm softening.
He does. In the kitchen. “Forgot,” Percy forces through grit teeth, followed by a groan when Bill jostles his arm again.
“Shite, sorry, Perce. I have to get the burned clothes off.” He takes out his wand and says a spell, that Percy forgets the second it left his brother’s mouth. Almost instantly the screaming pain in his arm is reduced to a numb stinging, the shock of it leaving him panting for breath. When Bill moves his wand to carefully peel off what is left of Percy’s undershirt from his arm, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to throw up. He must have lost some time, because it is only moments later when Bill pulls him carefully to his feet.
“Alright, let’s get you somewhere warm, okay?” He mumbles, not waiting for an answer.
When they reach his hut, Percy doesn’t so much walk as he is getting carried. Gently, Bill deposits him on his bed.
“Wait here, okay? I’m getting Charlie, shout if you need anything,” Bill says, before disappearing out of the door again.
He can’t get Charlie, Percy thinks, though it feels like wading through a cold swamp. Adina and Charlie joined the group going to one of the other locations today. They can’t be back, yet. The only ones here would be… would be Elena and Florian, then. And they must both be busy. Taking care of dragons.
There is something tickling his face. Carefully, he raises his left hand to his cheek. His face feels freezing. When he looks at his hand again, his fingers are wet. It’s not raining outside. He doesn’t remember crying.
“Percy? I’m back,” Bill announces before coming in.
“Florian gave me this,” he gestures with his arm, carrying various items, “as long as they’re only second degree burns he said I can handle them, that you’d probably prefer it that Charlie looks them over when he comes back.”
He pulls over a chair to where Percy is sitting on his bed and arranges the items on his table. There’s a vial filled with a dark green potion Percy suspects to be a customized numbing potion, an orange salve and some bandages.
“He said the salve can hurt when putting it on, so tell me, if you feel anything and need this one first okay?” Bill says, lifting the potion. His eyes stay fixed on Percy’s face, however, until he gives a shaky nod. Only now did he realise just how dishevelled Bill looks. His cheeks are tinged red, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck with sweat and he is still breathing hard. His brother must have sprinted through half the sanctuary to get him help.
This time, he can feel the stinging in his eyes.
“Stop,” Percy says through the lump in his throat.
Bill, who was already bend over his arm, salve in hand, jerks back as if hit.
“What’s wrong?” he says, his eyes searching Percy’s face.
“I can do it. Please. Leave.”
Bill stares at him in disbelief.
“Don’t be daft, Perce, you’re hurt. I can do this for you.”
“I don’t need your help. Please leave, Bill,” Percy says, his voice cracking on the name.
Bill’s eyes are wide.
“Percy, what-“
“You were right! You were right and I was wrong and I can’t handle dragons or a job at the ministry or anything, by myself without hurting my family. Now will you please leave?”
Bill falls silent. His expression unreadable blur, though Percy is wearing his glasses. He has to focus on the dull pain in his arm, throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat.
Slowly, Bill returns the salve to table. Then, as if Percy is a wild animal he doesn’t want to spook, he stands up, open palms by his side. There is still a smudge of orange on his fingers, and for a second Percy wants to take back what he said, but Bill is already opening to the door, hesitating briefly before he turns around.
“Yell if you need anything,” he says softly. The door clicks shut.
Percy exhales shakily. Then inhales, holds, exhales again. It is definitely too late to do this now. He should have done it before even touching Dotty’s stable door. But he can’t think about that. Instead, he takes the salve with shaky handy and starts applying it onto his arm. The cold is both relieving and painful at once, like plunging into a freezing lake after a run. He finishes applying it regardless. Mistakes have consequences and you have to endure them, how else do people learn from them? He knows it’s being childish, this is nothing more than self-flagellation. All the thought does, is make him angrier. So when he grabs for the bandages, knocking the vial to the floor by accident, he doesn’t pick it up again. It rolled somewhere beneath the bed, anyway. He won’t go fishing for it. The salve must have numbing properties as well, however, as it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as he expected to clumsily put on the bandages.
He will have to pack soon. Pierre, whoever he is, hasn’t arrived yet, but Bill won’t want to stay much longer after this. That’s why Percy held off on unpacking at the first place, because he could be forced to leave at any time. But when he stands up on shaky legs to start gathering the few things he had unpacked, he notices that this isn’t true anymore. At some point he must have forgotten about it; because apart from one pair of socks, all of his belongings are sorted away. He must have put everything away by habit, whenever he used something. Looking at his neatly folded clothes in the dresser, he realises that their quantity increased since he had last packed. Even without the fire resistant items Adina had insisted on ‘lending’ him there are multiple pieces he knows didn’t originally belong to him. Slowly, he sinks back onto the bed. He can’t do this. Not today.
---
Later, some time after it became too dark to read and Percy realised that he doesn’t have his wand to light the fireplace, there is a tentative knock on his door, interrupting his empty staring at unreadable book pages.
No, thank you, he wants to say, sod off, Bill, maybe, but before he can so much as open his mouth the door already creaks open.
“Don’t hex me,” Charlie says. Of course it isn’t Bill. He’d told him to leave. And Bill clearly knows how to do that.
When Percy stays quiet, Charlie’s head pops up behind the door.
“I’d put my hands up in peace, but they’re rather full right now, so you’ll have to use your imagination, okay?” he says, stepping over the threshold. His hands are occupied by a tray precariously heaped with food.
Percy eyes it dubiously.
“Don’t look at me like that. You missed lunch and it’s almost time for dinner.,” Charlie says, kicking the door closed with his foot, “Don’t worry, if it’s too much you’ll just have to share with me.” He gives Percy a crooked smile, puts the tray on the table with a soft thump and sinks into the chair Bill abandoned earlier. It’s strange to see Charlie act as the mediator. Usually it was Bill who came with the peace offerings, coaxing whichever siblings were involved to shake hands and make up.
“I take it Bill’s too busy?” Percy can’t stop himself from saying. Charlie’s answering silence makes his face burn nearly as hot as his arm. He keeps his eyes pinned on the book on his lap.
“Listen, Perce,” Charlie says, finally, then stops. He seems to fight for the right words. Charlie has never been the one to field emotional talks. That was also usually Bill’s job, or Dad’s. Charlie is too practical, too independent, Percy adds in his head. Though, it feels almost unfair to think now, after all, so is Bill, and after Hogwarts, during the war, so was Percy.
“You’ve been doing a really good job with Dotty, you know,” Charlie settles on.
Percy huffs. Of all the things he could have said.
“Sure seems like it.” He says, vaguely gesturing with his bandaged arm, gritting his teeth against the flare of pain he gets in turn.
Charlie shifts in his seat. Percy tries to imagine the look on his face, but comes up short.
“Okay,” Charlie says quietly, as if to reorient himself. A quiet pop, rings out and suddenly the room lights up, the fireplace crackling with warmth. After a sigh Charlie tries again. “Ignore today. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Perce, don’t play daft. Even I can see that you’re angry at us. You were clearly avoiding me and extremely avoiding Bill. And while it got better for a bit, you’re doing it again, now. You know, if you don’t want to take care of Dotty anymore, that’s okay, I understand, she’s a dragon and she injured you. You’ve never really liked dragons. If you regret ever having come with me you can say so, as well. I can take it, you don’t have to force yourself to act like you enjoy it here.”
“Of course I still want to take care of Dotty,” Percy says, incredulous.
“Perce, she hurt you. You don-”
“I know she did, but she didn’t mean it,” Percy interrupts. And it’s true. If she had been aiming for him, it wouldn’t only be his arm that is damaged. She wasn’t aiming for him, she was aiming for the door. Because that is what startled her in the first place. She thinks of him as her mother, she would never expect him to hurt her. It was his mistake, not hers, no matter how much she hurt him because of it. He wants to say all of this, but when he opens his mouth only a sob comes out.
“Fuck, what’s wrong?” Charlie says suddenly, jumping up from the chair.
Nothing. Everything. He can’t stop bloody crying for one.
“Should I get Bill?” Charlie asks, making for the door.
“No!” Percy shakes his head.
“Okay,” Charlie sinks back into the chair, “not getting Bill. But you’re scaring me, Perce, if you can’t tell me what the fuck is going on, I’ll get him.”
“Noth-“
“You say ‘nothing’, I’m getting Bill,” Charlie says, raising out of his chair again as a threat.
“Today,” Percy says, voice hitching “at breakfast. Bill said you only took me along as a favour?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as a question.
“Yeah, that’s the first thing he told me when I came back here. That must’ve been a shite thing to hear. Don’t know where he got that from, honestly.” Charlie shrugs.
“What?”
“That’s what I said! Kind of missed his explanation, though. You’ll have to ask him.”
Percy throws him an angry look, Charlie only smiling innocently in response.
“Why did you, then?”
“What? Take you along? Perce, I don’t know how you haven’t noticed this, yet; everyone here hates office and maintenance work. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t, apart from you. Besides, I did miss you. A little.”
“Ah,” Percy chokes out, not knowing if that first part is supposed to be a compliment, “so. There was no favour?”
“No. No favour. Dad asked me, who I’m taking along and I said you. He only said to take care of you, which, well.” Charlie grimaces.
Maybe that’s why Bill was acting so overbearing. Percy can’t help but think of himself, having been tasked with taking care of Ginny in her first year at Hogwarts and failing abysmally.
“Have you thought of maybe talking to Bill about… this?” Charlie gestures broadly at them. Percy throws him a look.
“Right. Well, maybe think about it now, okay? Or not. Whatever you want to do. I’m not getting into Bill and your mess,” Charlie shrugs, “Do take this, though, please” he adds, before bending down and picking up the vial Percy hadn’t touched except to knock it on the floor like a child. He feels his cheeks grow hot again
“Right,” Percy says, taking it out of his brother’s hand.
“Great! Let’s eat, then.”
---
The is setting when Percy scrapes enough courage together to venture outside of what has become his home these past weeks. He doesn’t have to walk far to find Bill, who is standing inconspicuously a few metres before Percy’s building, watching the sunset. So much to not getting involved, Charlie.
“Don’t you have a jacket, you daft little boggart?” Bill greets him, when Percy has come close enough for him to drop his pretence.
When Percy fails to conjure a jacket out of thin air and without a wand, Bill sighs dramatically and starts taking off his own.
“Just take it,” Bill says, “I need this and I’m still furious with both of us, so just do what I say.” He carefully drapes his jacket over Percy’s shoulders, its warmth draping over Percy like a blanket. He didn’t feel particularly cold, but his shoulders relax regardless. Bill tugs on it until it sits just so. Something that is so like himself, like Mum, that Percy has to look away, and blink into the blinding sunset, instead.
Once the pressure of Bill’s hands has disappeared, Percy finds it in himself to speak, “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Bill says.
For a moment Percy thinks this is it. They will watch the sun disappear behind the mountains, bid each other goodnight and then act as if nothing ever happened. The tension starts seeping back into his shoulders.
“I’m sorry, too,” Bill says “Clearly, I don’t know you as well anymore. I should’ve known how much my pestering and my words would upset you, maybe I would have been more… tactful. Though maybe I don’t know myself quite as well as I used to either.”
As if Percy couldn’t relate to the feeling.
“Do you remember when we were little,” he says, a thought forming into words, which before had only existed as a nagging cloud of unidentified feelings in the back of his mind, “and I couldn’t sleep for weeks because I was so scared that you would stay at Hogwarts forever if you left?” He expected Bill to chuckle, make a comment, but when he looks at his brother all he finds is realisation. Still, Percy continues, “Do you remember how you promised me you wouldn’t leave me, then? You said you would come back home as soon as school ends. And I never expected this to be forever, of course, you were only elven when you said it, but- But I thought… At least until I turn seventeen, right? Or, or maybe if you really couldn’t stand it anymore, at least you would tell me before, you know, before Mum and Dad found out. At least.”
Bill turns to fully face him now.
“I remember. I never forgot, actually. And I’m sorry for not keeping that promise. It was just so easy to make excuses. That you probably don’t remember, and even if you did, it wouldn’t be a great deal anyway, that you’d love the chance to be one of the older ones, that you’d be too busy with your studies and your friends at Hogwarts to care, that you wouldn’t even miss me. Obviously, that was bollocks and I knew it, but I was being a selfish little seventeen year-old and I’m sorry. I knew how much you looked up to me then and I should have taken it more seriously.”
And it’s funny. How this is enough. The deep set anger, the tension, the frustration just breaks open.
“I get that selfish seventeen year-old part,” Percy says and laughs through his renewed tears. Bill gives a wet laugh as well, and then pulls him in for a hug. They’re exactly the same height now, Percy notices as he buries his face into his brother’s shoulder.
Without letting him go, Bill starts speaking again, “I’m also sorry about saying this was a favour. Dad was just worried about you, Perce. We both were. He came to ask me if I could ask Charlie to take you along, make you take a break, spend some time with us. But when I went to talk to Charlie, he already said he was going to take you. I just figured Dad had already talked to him. I’m sorry I just assumed that’s what it was. Obviously you would do well here, you’d do well everywhere.” Bill gives him a final squeeze and then let’s go. “I think Dad is just worried to make things worse since your fight. He didn’t think anything bad of it.”
“I know,” Percy says, rubbing at his eyes.
“Funnily enough,” Bill says suddenly, “I didn’t even know what your row was about, originally. I only found out when Charlie told me and he only found out because the twins kept moaning on about it to him during my wedding.”
Percy grimaces.
“Congratulations, by the way. I’m sorry I didn’t attend. I was too scared to open your letter. I didn’t know if it was going to be an invitation or a lecture. I honestly didn’t know which would be worse.”
Thankfully, Bill only laughs at that.
“Don’t worry about it. Fleur already likes you the most anyway. After Harry, of course. She calls you ‘the polite one’. If you keep it up, you might even have a shot at being a godfather.”
“What?” Percy asks, shocked “What about Charlie?”
“He’ll just have to wait for the second one,” Bill grins, before sobering up again. “Honestly, though, if there’s anything you need, you can always come by. Fleur and I are staying in Shell Cottage and I’m transferring to London. I’m not leaving Britain any time soon. You can also always talk to Charlie,” Bill adds pointedly, looking behind them at their poorly hidden brother.
“Oi,” Charlie yells, giving up his hovering to join them, “You better not be telling tales about me!”
“Tales? Of you? You’re the most boring person I’ve ever met, Charles,” Bill shoots back with a grin.
Charlie splutters. “Boring? Me? Have you looked at yourself recently? You’re a banker with an earring, mate.”
Percy rolls his eyes. They can go on like this for hours, bickering with each other. He remembers one time, it must have been Bill’s first Christmas home from Hogwarts, where they managed to go on the whole time they were decorating the tree. Percy must have been around six years old then, listening intently to his oldest brother’s stories of the magical castle and the many adventures he had in it. He doesn’t remember what started the fight, typically for their family, it could have been anything. But he does remember feeling incredibly put out by it. And he also remembers looking up, catching Dad’s gaze, and sharing an amused grin.
---
The day they leave for home is filled with gratitude and promises to visit each other soon. Though he has doubts about those promises, the length of the crushing hug Charlie gives him and the inconspicuous sniffling afterwards give him hope to the contrary. To Percy’s surprise, many of his now ex-colleagues seem sad to see him go. Though it is Adina’s parting words that hit him the most.
“This is it then,” she says, pushing away his outstretched hand to pull him into a quick hug.
“You definitely have to visit again soon,” she says “I miss you already.”
Percy laughs.
“Of course you do, who will organise the food now?”
“That too,” Adina says, letting go of him, ”but also because you took such good care of Dotty. You know, should you ever want a career change, there is a place for you here.”
“I will consider it,” Percy says, only half joking.
“Seriously. Dotty will be very happy and – between us – half the people here don’t even know how spell Norwegian Ridgeback,” she laughs her eyes glistening suspiciously.
So Percy, too, promises to visit. And once all the goodbyes have been said, Percy needs to dry his eyes as well.
Though, as his broom springs into his hand before he can finish his first ‘up’, he cannot wait to return home and see the look on his siblings faces when he tells them about his future career as a dragonologist.
He takes one last look at the reservoir and then nods at Bill to start flying.
The old needs to burn for new seeds to grow, so a bright future lays ahead.