HP Valensmut Mod (hpvs_mod) wrote in hpvalensmut, @ 2009-02-09 18:53:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | 2009, fic, sirius/percy |
Gift for emiime: Pierce the Veil (Sirius/Percy)
Title: Pierce the Veil
Author: midnight_birth
Recipient: emiime
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10,857
Warnings: Slight mental instability, some violence, scenes of explicit sexual nature, some harsh language, EWE.
Disclaimers: I don't own, obviously.
Summary: Sirius/Percy. When Sirius Black falls out of the Veil that had once claimed his life, seemingly having fought his way out, the Unspeakables are at a loss for an explanation. Kingsley convinces Harry to allow Percy, first assistant to the Minister, to become his part-time caretaker instead of a faceless Unspeakable in order to monitor his progress and perhaps gain further understanding of the world behind the Veil. But as Percy spends more time with the now slightly unbalanced and violent man he'd only heard horror stories about during his childhood, he slowly realizes that he may have signed up for much more than he bargained for.
Notes: Well, this idea really ran away with me, as you can probably tell by the word-count. The bunny was born the moment I saw your request. I haven't had this much fun writing something in a long time, and I'm quite fond of the result. Thank you for the amazing prompts you gave me to work with, and I really hope you enjoy it! ♥ An enormous thanks to wook77, the mod, who had faith in me and let me participate in this exchange this year even though I had issues last year! Thank you for running this exchange!
~*~
Percy was scribbling rapidly, completely absorbed in his report, and hadn't realized that Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing by his desk with a small smile on his face, looking mildly amused at Percy's overexertion.
"It's late, Percy," Kingsley said softly and Percy jumped, making an ugly slash with his quill. Kingsley looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. It's hard not to startle you when you're this into it. What are you working on?"
Percy glanced at his watch and was unpleasantly surprised to see that it was after midnight. He had started working on the report at half past six, and told himself that this time he would leave at a normal hour, or more normal than usual, at least. He glanced up at Kingsley, who looked tired and harassed too. He hated to see the well-hidden pity in the older man's face, but Kingsley's pity, unlike everybody else's, was at least tinted by understanding and a feeling of comradeship. The youngest and best Minister for Magic to date also didn't have anything or anyone to come home to, and spent every day keeping as busy as he could to veer his mind from that fact. Percy thought that was probably why there was nobody better than himself for the job of the first assistant to the Minister. He didn't depress Kingsley with talk of family or kids, and worked quietly and diligently, getting everything needed done without really getting in the way.
"That report you've asked me to compile, Minister," Percy answered, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Writing was the only thing diverting him from the feeling of tiredness, and now that there was nothing to take his mind off it, it had hit full force.
"Kingsley, please, Percy. And that report isn't due for another week. You should space yourself out a little bit."
Percy knew exactly what Kingsley meant by that. There was only so much work to be done, no matter how hectic it got, and if Percy finished it all in one go, he would be left alone to his loneliness and restlessness with nothing to occupy his time.
"Well, you sure are good at what you do," Kingsley said, waving a dismissing hand and giving him a grin. "I guess I don't have to worry about you ever falling behind on your work."
Percy nodded, remembering to look humble. From the very beginning, Percy had figured that being an assistant to someone with a lot of authority was an ideal career for him. He always possessed more than enough ambition, which, the Sorting Hat pointed out to him, would make him a very good candidate for Slytherin, but when he became the assistant to the Minister (Fudge at the time), he deemed his efforts sufficiently rewarded. He didn't strive for his superior's job. He was perfectly happy and comfortable doing what he did, and he could do it well, which was one of the most important factors in choosing a career path for him. He could be diligent, attentive, hard-working, over-zealous and over-achieving. He could be a great conversationalist without actually contributing to the conversation, and he could most certainly be trusted to do all his tasks on the level of adequacy someone working directly under the Minister would be expected to.
The transitions between Ministers weren't easy. Fudge was a blubbering idiot, and though Percy claimed he stood by the Minister rather than believing Harry and respected him a great bit, he could plainly see that the man was still a paranoid fool. When he was replaced, Percy let out a well-concealed sigh of relief. Scrimgeour, however, was the kind of replacement Percy hadn't expected. Coming from heading the Auror office and having the pressure of Voldemort's return on his shoulders, Scrimgeour stopped at nothing. Percy respected him, yes, but was, for the most part, completely terrified of the man. When Scrimgeour dragged him to his parents' as a decoy to get close to Harry Potter and Percy had to look his mother in the eye again after a long time, he thought he felt something inside long ago dead die anew. Scrimgeour didn't care about that. When he was assassinated and died as a hero, defending Harry under great torture, Percy couldn't decide what he felt. He certainly didn't want to work under the man anymore, though he dying wasn't the only way to have his wish fulfilled, he supposed. It took Thicknesse for Percy to finally figure out he had been wrong. Out of all the men he's worked for, Percy had never gotten a chance to get to know Pius Thicknesse. After the Imperius Curse was lifted, he was hardly mentally sound at all, and immediately replaced in office.
So there Percy was, now working for the fourth Minister of his time, content with the arrangements at last. He still blushed when he remembered what an enormous crush he had on Kingsley when he first started, and what a blubbering fool he must have been those first few weeks. Kingsley was a boss of a completely different kind. He commanded respect and authority, but could have been a buddy hanging out at a pub over a pint the way he behaved towards his subordinates. Percy never really knew how to act around him. The formal, "Yes, sir" way that seemed to satisfy the three Ministers that came before him wasn't Kingsley's way. Kingsley didn't have subordinates; he had friends who worked with him, not under him. For Percy, who drew a distinct line between anything remotely personal and work, that was the hardest thing to get used to.
"I've spoken to Harry," Kingsley said, crossing his legs. "He says you've stopped attending Friday family dinners because you claim to have too much work." Percy shifted uncomfortably. He should have known it was going to get back to Kingsley somehow. Everyone acted like they were all one big ruddy family now. Everybody knew everything about everyone else. "The last thing I want is for work to interfere with something like that, Percy. It bothers Molly greatly, you know how she is. I think she's really afraid to lose you again."
This was another thing about Kingsley. He wasn't afraid to bring up the uncomfortable subjects everyone else steered clear of. Subjects like Percy's family betrayal which was, though years in the past, not something everyone would ever really let go, he was certain.
"You're right, Minist - Kingsley. I'll make an honest effort to –"
He was cut off by a figure in a black cloak that seemed to have swooped into the office completely out of nowhere, startling the two men quite a lot. It was a young man seemingly slightly younger than Percy with dishevelled brown hair and big brown eyes. Percy could see a black hood resting on his shoulders and immediately made the connection. There was only one branch within the Ministry that had its workers wear black robes with concealing hoods and work late into the night, or mostly at night in some cases.
Percy hadn't had the chance to deal with a lot of Unspeakables throughout his whole time working at the Ministry, and was happier for it. The Department of Mysteries, as far as Percy was concerned, functioned almost independently from everyone else, and dealt with things no wizard or witch with common sense would want to get mixed up in. Unlike many others, even after hearing Harry's stories about his adventures within its many rooms, Percy had no interest in that branch of the Ministry. The Unspeakables were almost invisible black shapes one didn't often encounter in the corridors, minding their own business and staying true to their names. It was jarring and troublesome to see one as excited and breathless as the young man was, and Kingsley immediately dawned a concerned expression. As far as Percy gathered from his observations and constantly being by Kingsley's side, even the Minister himself didn't receive such visits very often.
"Your presence is required immediately, Minister," the young man said breathlessly, obviously trying to keep his tone as professional and calm as possible and failing.
"What is this about?" Kingsley was out of the chair.
The man threw a quick glance at Percy and then looked at Kingsley questioningly.
"This is my assistant, Percy –"
" – Weasley," the man finished suddenly. "Of course. You were Head Boy in my third year. You were at the battle, too. Anthony Goldstein."
The Unspeakables rarely gave out their names, but Anthony obviously expected Percy to recognize him. Percy nodded politely, feigning recognition. The man was obviously not in Gryffindor, and, being younger than Percy, it was not surprising that Percy had no recollection of him. His face did look familiar, however. If he wasn't mistaken, Percy had a feeling he had been a Ravenclaw, and though he remembered very little from the battle aside from Fred's death, he thought he faintly recalled the man's face from that night.
"I am to speak freely, then?" Anthony asked, obviously impatient to share his news.
Kingsley looked doubtful for a second. Percy knew he was completely trusted, but the matters of the Unspeakables were very different from anything else, of course. It wasn't a matter of trust here. It was a matter of as few people as possible being aware of what went on on the ninth level of the Ministry. Finally, Kingsley nodded.
"This is a delicate issue, Minister, we've never seen anything like it," Anthony started, finally allowing the information at the tip of his tongue to flow out freely and not even trying to conceal his excitement. "We've been studying that room for years. No one had ever come out of there. I mean, to think of the implications of this. I mean, death." He looked apologetic all of a sudden. "I know it doesn't befit an Unspeakable to be this excited or unchecked, but this is phenomenal. And to think who of all people. We need your authorization, of course. We haven't moved the subject, but he needs proper medical attention as soon as possible. He's in pretty bad shape, to tell you the truth. Looks like he fought a war. We have Healers on site, of course, but..."
Anthony trailed off when Kingsley finally seemed to collect himself and raised his hands for silence. Percy had not been able to keep up with the babble at all. All he managed to gather was that something completely sensational happened, it involved someone of some importance, and was huge enough to reduce the man in front of them with the most stoic profession one could find into an excited raving mess. Anthony seemed to calm himself at Kingsley's gesture and gain a firmer grasp on his emotions.
"You better come with us," he said, and made for the door, leaving the two no choice but to follow. Percy wasn't sure whether it was his place, and whether he was asked to come at all, but Kingsley was walking swiftly beside him without a comment, and Anthony made no objections. For all his impartiality to the subject in general, Percy's curiosity was piqued.
They walked to the elevator and rode it silently to the lowest level. The moment the doors opened, a sound of excited talking and shouts reached their ears. Anthony led them down the bare corridor to the black door at the end, partially opened. The moment they stepped into the circular room with twelve plain doors akin to the one they just entered, except without doorknobs, it immediately started spinning. Percy gasped and swayed on his feet, throwing out his hands in disorientation, but both Anthony and Kingsley stood calmly, waiting for the spinning to stop in order to advance. It was obvious it wasn't their first time there. The moment the spinning stopped, Anthony looked around for a second, muttering something to himself, and then made for the door directly on their left. Percy, with all his attention to detail, could not figure out how anyone would be able to tell the doors apart. But he supposed Anthony wasn't an Unspeakable for nothing.
They entered into a room that made Percy feel stifled and chilled to the bone the moment he set foot in it. It was a large room, empty except for rows of benches running all around the room, descending into a stone pit with a crumbling archway in the middle on a dais. A black curtain was hanging from the archway, swaying gently. The room was full of figures. They were all dressed in black cloaks identical to Anthony's, and some had their hoods ups. They stood conversing between themselves loudly and excitedly, and Percy's stare was immediately drawn by a cluster of people in the corner, obviously crowding around something. The moment Kingsley was sighted, a wave of whispers swept over the room until it was still and quiet, all eyes directed at the three of them. Anthony lead them to the group of people who politely stepped aside to form a path, and Percy found himself feeling out of place and uninvited again. It made him feel slightly better that nobody seemed to be paying him any mind, and all eyes were directed at Kingsley.
What the group of people was surrounding finally came into view as the last few parted to make way for them. There was a figure sprawled on the ground. Two Mediwitches were kneeling alongside the figure, blocking the upper body from view, but Percy could see the condition of the unfortunate man by his tattered, almost non-existent clothes, and bleeding, scarred legs and stomach. It did indeed look like the man had just stumbled in from a brutal battle which he seemed to have lost. He heard Kingsley beside him exhale loudly.
The Midiwitches stood up and turned to face them, allowing them to see the man's face for the first time. Percy heard himself gasp in unison with Kingsley, and his stomach turned. The man barely resembled a human with his bruised body, swollen lips and waist-length hair scattered all over the floor and tangled seemingly beyond repair, but Percy had no trouble recognizing him. He hadn't ever met the man in person, but the image of his wild, crazy-looking face was engraved in his mind from his very childhood. He remembered clearly the terror he had felt upon finding the portrait of the Fat Lady torn, and sleeping, shivering, in the Great Hall, expecting this very man to strike at any moment. He knew him to be innocent now, of course, but the only time he ever looked at the man's face was on Wanted posters, believing him to me a homicidal maniac. It wasn't an image or impression easily shaken.
"Merlin," he heard Kingsley murmur, finally giving voice to his own feelings. "Sirius Black."
~*~
Percy practically ran into Kingsley's office the next morning at the crack of dawn. Eventually, when Kingsley finally remembered he was there, he forced Percy to go home and get some sleep. Sleep was the last thing on Percy's mind as he paced his small flat, watching the clock hands creep on until he deemed it late enough to show up to work. He knew Kingsley would be there already, and will have been there all night. After Kingsley shouted for someone to get Harry Potter and to transport Sirius to a closed-off ward at St.Mungo's immediately and in complete secrecy, he had made it very clear to them all that aside from those present and Harry, no one was to be informed of this. Until they could figure out what exactly happened and how, and until Sirius was at least stable enough to say confidently that he would survive, Kingsley wanted no media coverage or word of mouth to spread the news.
Percy practically felt like skipping, having to remind himself constantly to keep his head firmly on his shoulders. It was indeed something that could change everything. Sirius had come back from the dead. Something no magic or potion in the world was able to achieve. But somehow, it happened. The possibility was there. Perhaps that meant... No. Percy couldn't let himself hope or even think about it that way. He had to be logical. Until he knew for sure how it had happened, he couldn't know whether something like this was possible to happen again. After all, Sirius's death wasn't a typical one. Maybe only Sirius, having died the way he did, could come back the way he had. But still, the possibility that the opposite could be true was there, and Percy found it hard to ignore it.
As he had expected, Kingsley was there, accompanied by Harry, Anthony, and a witch Percy had never seen before. Harry looked like he had just had a stroke. He was pale and jumpy, his eyes darting from Kingsley to the other two as they discussed the situation. When Percy came in, Harry jumped and hugged him, seemingly completely forgetting himself. Percy definitely didn't have a close enough relationship with Harry to warrant that kind of sign of affection. Not after Harry's fifth year. But Harry didn't seem himself. Percy almost felt sorry for him. Being an Auror, and the head of the department, too, was no walk in the park, and the stress combined with his youth's "adventures" had already took years off Harry's life, it seemed, and this was just another shock big enough to shake Harry to his very core.
"You've met Anthony." Kingsley gestured to the young man from yesterday and then the witch beside him. "This is Matilda Morek. Anthony is the head of the Unspeakables, and Matilda leads the research teams that concern themselves specifically with the Death Chamber." He turned to Harry. "Percy was with me last night when this happened. He is the only one aside from you and them, of course, that knows about this."
"Is he..." Percy had intended to say alive, but caught himself before blurting out something that insensitive. Besides, he figured that if Sirius had passed on, there would be a completely different reaction from the people in the office.
"He's stable," Anthony replied, understanding the question first. "The Healers were able to close some of his more serious wounds to the best of their abilities. He has some very serious injuries, but the Healers are certain that with a few weeks of the usual potions and charms, he will be all healed up. There are some the source of which they haven't yet been able to figure out, but they're working on that right now. There is no danger of him dying, at least, though he hadn't woken up yet, so we can't be sure..." Anthony gave Harry a worried look and Percy could see him struggle to find the right words. "We can't be sure of his mental state yet."
Harry flinched at that. Percy imagined that if Sirius woke up and turned out to be completely mentally unstable and beyond the point of recognition, it could be a harder hit than his death had been, especially after the temporary euphoria his return had caused.
"One thing is certain, Minister," Matilda spoke, seemingly returning to the conversation they were having before Percy had come in, "we have to keep this news secret for now, as you have said yesterday. Think of the uproar this will cause. Until we can give an explanation, at least, or a viable hypothesis, we can't let this go public. Besides," her voice softened, "I am certain that Mr Black will be much better off recovering in peace and privacy. Mr Goldstein has a valid point, too. We do not know the mental state of the subject, and until we do, we shouldn't overwhelm him with anything."
"Stop calling him the subject!" Harry barked angrily. "He's not an experiment in a lab. I won't let you regard him as such!"
For the third time in two days, Percy felt completely out of place. He knew very little of the Death Chamber and the Unspeakables, and was certainly no dear friend of Harry's, so he could not contribute to the conversation or any decision-making at all. He sank down on the couch, simply listening and observing. He was a part of this now, and observing was something he did very well. The subject was fascinating and he yearned to learn more, though it seemed nobody had any information yet.
"I am sorry, Mr Potter," Matilda was saying calmly. "I did not mean to imply or insult. But Mr Black is essential to our research. We have to know what happened to him. We have to be allowed to question him, when he's ready, and examine him."
"Just because he came back out from behind that veil, it does not mean he belongs to your department along with everything else that happens inside it," Harry snapped. "He is here and he is alive, by some miracle. After so many years doing only Merlin knows what, he should be allowed to recover without you badgering him in any way. When he's completely healthy and wishes to speak with you then, then I cannot stop you. But I am the only family he's got, and as he is unconscious, I am making his decisions."
"Harry, please, be reasonable," Anthony said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder and giving Harry an earnest look. "I know how much he means to you. I can only imagine how protective you must feel of him now. But we must have someone with him at all times when you can't be around him. We don't know, but he may say something in his sleep, or remember something only fresh in his mind in the moment. He may forget it later." Harry was starting to look dangerous, and Anthony sensed that, immediately adopting another approach. "I promise you, Harry, that we will not treat him with any less respect than a war hero, veteran and your godfather deserves. But he has some very serious injuries. If he remembers what happened to him, he may better the Healers' chances of finding how to cure him faster. Anything he says can be of enormous importance to not only us and the whole wizarding world, perhaps, but also himself."
Harry looked wary but thoughtful. Anthony had played his cards right and Percy was mildly impressed. He agreed with the notion, though. If there was anything to be found out about life after death and coming back from the dead, especially, it should be done. Harry shouldn't be so selfish as to stall this kind of progress.
Kingsley hadn't said a word for a long time, but when the room sank into a heavy silence and it became overbearing, he spoke, "I understand, Harry. This is a difficult decision that I am faced with. I know and love Sirius too. You know that. To say that I am happy to see him back and alive would be saying nothing. But this is possibly the biggest thing that's ever happened within these Ministry walls. I cannot ignore that fact, though be assured that I'm not putting more emphasis on that than Sirius's well-being. Both Anthony and Matilda are right. You cannot abandon your job completely. I would like to give you some time off, but with your job, I cannot offer you much. You cannot be with him all the time, but someone should be. And since nobody but we and the Unspeakables know of this, not counting the few Healers and Mediwitches who had been sworn to secrecy with very powerful spells and already have their hands full, it has to be one of the Unspeakables who does this, and they may as well do their job at the same time. Anything he says will simply be recorded. No questions need be asked until he is ready to answer them. Look at it as hiring a care-taker. You will need one, anyway. I would do it myself, you know I would, but, not unlike you, my job cannot be put on hold, either."
Harry's shoulders hunched and he ran his hand through his hair, making it almost too unruly to be allowed, and sank down on the couch beside Percy. His eyes met Anthony's hopefully, but Anthony shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I know you want to have someone you know and trust, but it's not an option for me, either."
At that, Percy saw Kingsley straighten up with an inspired look.
"You can have someone you know and trust, Harry, actually," Kingsley said and suddenly looked at Percy. Before Percy could process what was implied and had time to protest, Kingsley added, "Percy."
The rest of the people in the room looked at Percy as if they've forgotten he was even there, which he was sure was the case. Percy shook his head, unable to find the right words under the sudden scrutiny. The idea was ludicrous. First of all, Percy wouldn't go as far as to say that Harry trusted him. They had become civil enough and, like the rest of his family, Harry had told him to leave the past in the past, but there was still something strained between them. Percy didn't blame him. He accepted that and didn't really mind it. Secondly, he was certainly no caretaker. He was a secretary and assistant, he knew how to take care of papers and projects, not sick people. He always lacked the necessary empathy or the ability to express it for a job like that. It wasn't a secret, either. Kingsley knew perfectly well where his weaknesses lay, and they all had to do with dealing with other people.
It was Matilda who spoke first. "I must disagree, Minister," she said, giving Percy a look he could live without. "He doesn't know what we're looking for and he's not qualified. I must insist that an Unspeakable be placed to –"
"If you really just want to record what Sirius says when he's unconscious or when he chooses to speak," Harry interrupted her sharply, "then Percy is plenty qualified for that. Anyone can take notes. And since you're not looking to place a medical caretaker, as Sirius already has Healers around him, then I would have to say that Percy would be my first choice out of anybody you can offer."
Percy was surprised to get that kind of support from Harry. He knew, of course, that it wasn't really about him. It was mostly because Harry knew Percy. Everything he's done aside, Harry knew that Percy wished him no malice, and could trust Percy to be professional and do whatever job he was given earnestly and well. Percy was sure that any Unspeakable could do the job well enough too, but Harry didn't know any of them and had not been given many reasons throughout his life to trust strangers.
"I don't... I don't even know Sirius," Percy stumbled. He cursed himself inwardly. If he was going to get out of this, he needed a better-formed argument than that. But he knew that statement alone was powerful enough, because of what wasn't added but implied. He could have known Sirius as well as his siblings or Harry if he hadn't turned his back on them the only time he had a chance.
"It's for the best, perhaps," Kingsley said thoughtfully. "You are close enough to the people Sirius loves but not one of them, which may be good for him. When Sirius wakes up, he will ask questions. We all know what those questions are going to be. What happened. Who survived. Who died. We know the guilt he is bound to feel for not being here to fight alongside us when his friends perished, and then being the one to be spared and somehow ripped out of clutches of death. Perhaps it is for the best to have an impartial, honest person that Sirius will not be afraid to show his feelings to, or ask the delicate questions he may be wary to ask Harry."
"Very well." Anthony was much friendlier than Matilda, and seemed to be convinced that Harry had a right to choose the person he trusted with this. "He will be briefed, then. Come with me, Percy. Then Harry can take you to him. No reason to delay this."
"Are you willing to do this, Percy?" Kingsley asked finally.
Percy was beginning to think nobody would bother to ask that question. No. This was the last thing on earth Percy wanted to do. It was hard to shake off the prejudices he had had since he was a kid about Sirius Black. He may have been innocent, but Percy had never gotten to know the man who was a friend to his family and a hero to the war. He only knew the crazed-looking killer staring back at him from Wanted posters, sending chills down his spine. But, looking up at Harry, he could see that he had very little choice in the matter. Harry wasn't likely to trust an Unspeakable if Percy refused. And this needed to be done. Maybe what they could learn from Sirius would allow... Percy shook his head to disperse those thoughts and then, quickly, nodded.
"I am."
~*~
It had been weeks of sitting in a well-lit, large room and listening to incomprehensible shouts and moans for Percy before Sirius Black actually woke up. Percy and Harry had a schedule set up and took turns so someone was with Sirius all the time. Whenever Harry had to be at work, which was often, day or night, Percy would be with Sirius. He had very little sleep, but was accustomed to that kind of schedule.
Most of all, Percy was bored. Sirius was recovering in a large room in a large country cottage that Harry owned. Harry had decided that with Healers visiting around the clock, it was a better option than St.Mungo's. It was far enough away from the city and completely isolated. Percy had a small desk in Sirius's bedroom where he did his assignments and read days on end. For three weeks, Sirius said absolutely nothing of interest. It seemed to Percy that he was simply having nightmares, and the only actual words that had ever left his mouth were No and Leave him alone and a string of obscenities that sometimes even made Percy fidget uncomfortably.
There was very little to do. The Healers, who came during appointed times during the day, were not much for conversation. They administered the potions and left, not saying anything to Percy unless he asked them something. Hermione had also come every week on a Tuesday for a month to take care of Sirius aesthetically. It had taken her two visits to untangle and upkeep Sirius's hair with some very complicated spells. Percy had been sure that Sirius's hair was a lost cause the moment he saw the tangled dirty long mass, but Hermione was one who did not give up that easily.
"Gorgeous hair this man has," Hermione said wistfully on her last visit.
She was the only person aside from Harry that really stopped and chatted with Percy when she visited. Percy didn't really know why she came in the first place, but figured she must have volunteered to do what she could when Harry, against the Unspeakables' advice, let her in on the secret. She couldn't be a caretaker, as her work required frequent travelling and an absolutely hectic schedule. Percy knew that Hermione was also departing for a lengthy case in Bulgaria in the next few days.
"I think I'm finished with him. What do you think?"
Percy got up and walked over to the bed. It was hard to recognize Sirius now. His hair was smooth and a little shorter than waist-length, made into a tidy side ponytail and laid out on the bed beside him. He also lacked almost all small cuts and bruises. Healers didn't bother with rudimentary things like that, even though Sirius's body was covered with them. He had much more serious injuries than ones that would soon heal on their own to focus on.
"I can't do much about scars," Hermione said apologetically, "but he looks so much better off now. I know it's silly. It's not like it matters what he looks like, really, but Harry's heart breaks whenever he looks at him, I can see it. The bruises and cuts on his face, especially, made him look so much worse off than he is, and while it's tricky to get rid of them, it's really quite simple. Don't need to be a Healer to manage it. He looks healthier now, doesn't he? Maybe that will make Harry feel a little better."
Percy nodded. Sirius did look a million times better now. Handsome, even, Percy thought before rolling his eyes at his own ridiculous thoughts. His real injuries were on his legs. His right leg had a wound that looked like a dragon-bite but was not. Healers couldn't even begin to hypothesize what had bit him, but after trying dozens of potions and ointments, they were stumped to find the wound just as fresh as it had been the day before every single day. It didn't seem to be spreading or infected, but it looked horribly painful. It was just there, and no one was able to remove it. He had a similar smaller wound on his lower calf and right thigh.
He now looked like an exceedingly harassed man sleeping, and with his injuries covered up by blankets, he didn't look as sick as he did just a week ago. He had countless scars on his face and chest, and Percy thought that many of them had been there before his death and knew all of them would be there until his next one.
Hermione left shortly after and Percy was exceedingly sorry to see her go. Sorry and envious. Hermione was going back to work. Back to the Ministry, bustling with people hurrying on their way to do their jobs. Percy's job now consisted of sitting in a chair, staring at a sleeping person and doing nothing.
He sank down into the armchair beside Sirius's bed and gently removed the blanket down to his waist. It was stifling in the room, though all the windows were open, and Sirius was sweating. It wasn't the reason Percy had done this, however. He had found some silly amusement in sitting by Sirius's bed and connecting all his scars on his chest with dim rays of light that Sirius wouldn't be able to feel even if awake, trying to make designs out of them. He felt stupid doing it, but it was interesting enough to divert his mind from boredom for short periods of time. Because of this, he had every single one of Sirius's scars etched into his brain, and found himself connecting them in bed sometimes when he was unable to sleep in his mind. He dismissed it as his mind's habit.
He was in the middle of trying to make a tree, his wand inches away from Sirius's skin, when a gruff voice right beside his ear said, "Who are you and what the bloody hell are you doing?"
Percy screamed and jumped, dropping his wand and stumbling backwards, nearly tripping over the armchair. Before Percy had time to recover, he was staring at his own wand pointing directly at his head. A pair of black eyes watched him viciously. Sirius was holding his arm up with evident difficulty, but Percy had no doubt that Sirius could easily curse him into tomorrow if he didn't start talking, and fast.
"Per-Percy Weasley," he stammered, quickly straightening up and regaining composure.
"Weasley?" There was recognition in Sirius's voice and he lowered the wand. Percy stood rooted to the spot, because Sirius kept clutching it and scrutinizing him with a frown. "Percy Weasley? The boy Molly kept crying over that time you sent her jumper back unopened?"
Percy nodded. His mind was quickly taking mental notes. Sirius looked aware and was evidently in possession of his memories before his death. There was no sign of direct mental instability yet, but Sirius looked vicious, his eyes glinting dangerously as if he was capable of pouncing on Percy and breaking his neck if only he had the strength. Percy couldn't attribute that to anything yet, however. He wasn't sure whether Sirius acted and looked this way before his death. His posters certainly suggested signs of viciousness, and though Harry remembered him as a gentle, cheerful, mischievous man, Percy highly doubted that someone who spent twelve years in Azkaban could really be all that stable after escaping it to begin with.
"Then you are dead too?" Sirius asked, looking around him curiously, suddenly appearing completely placid.
"No."
Sirius's eyes narrowed. "I'm dead and you're here, so –"
"You are not dead."
Sirius's grip loosened and the wand fell to the floor. Percy was quick to retrieve it. He wasn't sure how Sirius was going to react to this announcement, and he wanted to be able to defend himself if it came down to it. Both of Sirius's hands were clutched around the covers so tightly his knuckles had turned white, and his eyes were focused on Percy for only a few seconds before suddenly going blank and closing slowly.
"Expecto Patronum! Harry, now! Sirius has woken up!" Percy told his owl Patronus urgently and she swooped out of the window. Percy was by Sirius in a jump, feeling for his pulse. His heart was beating, but he appeared to have fainted.
~*~
To Percy's greatest displeasure and discomfort, the next time Sirius came to, Percy was once again the only one on watch. After Sirius had woken up the first time, Percy harboured high hopes that the next time Sirius would wake up, Harry would be there and would be forced to answer all the questions Sirius undoubtedly had. If they were lucky, Sirius would tell Harry everything he could about life after death and what he remembered. That way, Percy could put this whole thing behind him, wish Harry and Sirius all the best, and only see them on Christmas holidays at the Burrow. But, of course, things in life never turned out to be that easy.
Percy was sitting in his armchair beside Sirius's bed, reading a book and contemplating, when his eyes snapped up to find Sirius staring intently at him. He wasn't sure how long Sirius had been awake, but controlled himself and didn't startle. He calmly shut the book and put it aside, brushing his hand against his hip where his wand was hidden to reassure himself.
"Remember to be calm," he remembered Anthony coaching him after last time. "Don't whip out your wand, don't make any sharp movements, and speak quietly and monotonously, if you can. He isn't strong enough to hurt you, and he doesn't have a wand. His mental state seems to be very weak, and we don't want to push him over the edge. Such shocks to his system and stress are not good for him right now. Answer all the questions he asks you honestly, but use your judgement when it comes to how much information he can handle and when you have to stop. Don't ask him much about his death, it seems to trigger him, but if you can manage to inconspicuously lead the conversation in that direction and get him talking about it, then try."
"Good evening, Sirius. How are you feeling?"
"Not dead," Sirius said, and sat up, grinning almost maniacally. Percy shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know you, do I?"
"No. We've never met."
"Sirius Black." Sirius outstretched his hand and Percy took it. With the handshake came a great feeling of uneasiness. Sirius didn't quite manage to break Percy's fingers, but the strength with which he shook his hand disturbed him. Perhaps Sirius had the strength to hurt him if he wished to.
They sat in silence. Percy wanted to turn inside out because Sirius's eyes didn't leave him for a second. It wasn't a blank spaced-out look, either. Sirius's eyes were focused and attentive. It was almost predatory, though Percy calmed himself down by telling himself Sirius just looked like he was about to pounce in general. But why was he staring so intently? Percy couldn't hold the gaze. He never knew how to stare into someone's eyes like that, and something about Sirius still really scared him.
"Well?" Sirius finally asked sharply. Percy gave him a questioning look. "Aren't you going to fill me in, at least?"
This was it.
"Is there anything in particular you would like to know?" Percy asked delicately, immediately feeling stupid. Sirius seemed to think Percy was stupid, too, because he scowled.
"Ok, then. Let's start with what year this is and how old I am and how long it's been."
Percy did some quick math in his head. This wasn't the question he'd been dreading. "This is year two-thousand and eight, August fifteenth," he started. "You... erm... passed away twelve years ago, in nineteen ninety-six. The Healers have said, however, that your body doesn't appear to have aged and remains, physically, in the state it had been when you... passed away in your thirties."
"Thirty seven," Sirius stated blandly.
The concept was bizarre to Percy. Sirius had been born seventeen years before him. Yet, right now, there was only a five years difference between them, technically.
Sirius's eyes suddenly flashed. "Voldemort? Harry? Remus?"
Percy swallowed. This was more difficult. Especially the last name on the list. He clutched his wand inside his robes.
"It's been ten years since Vol-Voldemort's fall. Harry had defeated him in the battle of Hogwarts for good this time. He is well and twenty-nine now, heading the Auror department. He hasn't married, though there is a rumour that..." Percy checked himself. "Well, if there's any truth to that he'll tell you himself, I imagine. He's scheduled to be here just about now, actually. He'll be very happy you're awake."
Percy stopped talking and got up, wishing with all his might for Harry to get there now. Sirius was still staring at him expectantly. Percy hesitated. This wasn't a job he could do well and flawlessly. He didn't know how to deal with people and their feelings. How to spare them, more precisely. He had no idea how he could stand there and delicately tell this man that his last remaining best friend and his wife were dead. That their son was orphaned. That so many people Sirius had known and loved weren't there anymore. That he had injuries nobody knew how to heal and that, finally, everybody was hoping he would be the one providing all the answers and explanations. Percy didn't know how to deal with that kind of situation, and he couldn't help the feeling of irrational fear spreading slowly through him as Sirius's black eyes looked at him as if he was something to eat.
"So did you memorize all of this to say?" Sirius asked suddenly. He shook his head dismissively with a smirk when Percy opened his mouth and then closed it again. "Is Moony coming with Harry, I hope?"
"Moony?" Percy asked apprehensively.
"That's right. You wouldn't know. Remus. Remus, is he coming?" Sirius chuckled. "That would be a treat. I'm never going to let him live down the fact that he's almost fifty now." Percy didn't say anything and Sirius frowned. "Why do you look like this? Is it Remus? Is he sick? Unavailable? Travelling? Is it a full moon tonight?"
Percy could hear Sirius's voice getting more desperate. He was grabbing for anything that wasn't the apparent truth. When Percy again failed to find the words Sirius grabbed for the front of his robes and yanked on them so hard Percy tumbled into bed almost on top of Sirius, throwing his arms out just in time to hold himself up off the bed, his face inches from Sirius's.
"Where is Moony?" Sirius snarled dangerously.
Percy's adrenaline was pumping in his temples. He was in actual danger now. And the ironic part, a cynic in him noted, was that Sirius was likely to tear his head off either way. If he told him the truth, Sirius would be distraught, which could lead to more violence. If he continued to gape like an idiot, Sirius was more than likely to get angrier. Percy looked down and swallowed. Sirius's chin was covered in stubble and his collar bones were jutting, a red scar running from the right side of his cheek, down his neck and stopped above his left nipple. There was something about the smell of Sirius's skin, also, that was very unexpected. Percy wasn't sure since when he'd become to have expectations of the scent of the man's skin.
And what the hell was he thinking about?!
"Remus Lupin and his wife, Nymphadora Lupin, were both killed in the battle of Hogwarts." He sighed and hung his head. "Their son, Ted, is being brought up by his grandmother, Andromeda Tonks, and is due to start his first year in Hogwarts next year. I'm sorry."
"You're lying." Sirius's voice was low and threatening.
Percy knew he should reach for his wand or try to fight Sirius off, but for some reason stood unmoving. He remembered what it was like to deal with sudden death of a loved one. He had no idea what to do for Sirius now. He had once comforted Ron, but it had been a long time ago, and it had been their brother. And Percy felt it was his fault, so it was really the least he could do. Now he was standing here and could only imagine what it felt like for Sirius to find out something like that from a complete stranger. A stranger Sirius heard nothing but bad things about during his life. In that way, they were kind of on even ground. Both had only known about the bad side of the other.
"You're lying," Sirius repeated, this time louder, and shook Percy violently. Percy's glasses tumbled off his face and fell on the bed. "Why aren't you saying anything?" Sirius roared.
"Sirius!" It was Harry, who rushed over to the bed and pulled Percy back, pushing him out of the way and enveloping Sirius in a tight hug, leaning on and effectively crushing Percy's glasses.
Percy stood, taken aback. Sirius's arms slowly went around Harry's back, but his eyes were still fixed on Percy. Without a backwards glance Percy turned on his heels and practically ran out of the room.
~*~
Percy knew he should've told Kingsley, but when Harry appeared to be completely clueless about what had been going on before he entered the room in his excitement, Percy kept his mouth shut and replaced his glasses bitterly. Partially, it was because he had a suspicion that if Anthony or Matilda got even a wind of the fact that Percy was put in a dangerous position he couldn't get himself out of, they'd immediately insist on him being taken off the case. With surprise, he realized he did not want that. He had a week to figure things out, as a week was as much as Kingsley gave Harry off work to spend with Sirius, after which time Percy would have to go back to his part-time caretaking duties.
His common sense had a valid argument. Sirius was a dangerous, unstable man. Nobody could blame him for it, after all he'd been through, but Percy felt that as an impartial party whom Sirius didn't know or care about, he was in much greater danger of being a victim of Sirius's anger and bitterness. From what he gathered, he hadn't acted violent around Harry at all.
But there was something about Sirius Black that drew Percy in. And it wasn't that he had come back from the dead. It was something Percy couldn't quite figure out. He had always been a very sensible person. He was never reckless, excited by danger, or lacking and wanting adventure. He enjoyed the safety and stability of his life. Some would say his life was boring, but Percy would choose boring over dangerous any day. But it was that exact danger and unpredictability behind Sirius's eyes that left Percy intrigued. He didn't really get it himself. Sirius had been the most exciting thing that had happened in Percy's life since the last battle. Until Percy felt the danger of Sirius twisting his neck off, he hadn't realized he needed any "excitement" in his life at all.
Harry had told Kingsley and him that Sirius took every death very hard, but better than expected overall.
"He says he doesn't remember much from the time of his death, but some things do keep coming to him for a minute here and there. Distant memories, sounds, smells..." He turned to Percy and gave him a peculiar look. "He also requested we don't switch his caregiver and he promises to behave."
Percy didn't know how to take that, so he dismissed Kingsley's questions about whether anything had happened to bring this on with a fake look of confusion. He assured both of them Sirius had not done anything that Percy would consider "behaving badly" and excused himself from the conversation.
The next time Percy had come in to visit, Sirius was wearing an open shirt and sitting up in bed, devouring the food on a tray in front of him with vigour. They stared at each other for a few minutes until Sirius nodded to the armchair by his bed and put the tray of food aside on the bed-side table. Percy sat down gingerly. Sitting within an arm's reach of Sirius didn't bide well.
"Did I hurt you?" Sirius asked, shifting uncomfortably and wincing from the pain in his legs.
"No." Percy paused and then pushed himself to be frank. "You scared me."
"I'm sorry. I've never been able to hold my temper well and what you said... It wasn't easy to accept. And I've always indulged my emotions. I felt like hurting you because I was hurting."
"Well, shooting the messenger is a common occurrence," Percy blurted out and was shocked at his own boldness. Sirius seemed equally shocked and impressed at the same time, and chuckled.
"I've heard about Fred," Sirius said, growing sombre, and Percy looked down with a frown. He didn't want this. He didn't want the pity or the empty I'm sorry. But it wasn't what Sirius was offering. "I want you to know that I have not once met him... where I was. Not him or anyone else that had passed. Not one familiar face. I don't remember much, but I do remember feeling like I was in limbo. Somewhere terrible where nothing happened; time stood still and I stood still with it. It was a horrible reality, and when I tried to step out of it, it had become a vicious war. Whatever held me there did not intend to let go. I remember pain and blood and fighting with something I couldn't see, every step forward requiring a dozen vicious battles. I want you to know this wasn't where your brother went. I don't remember all of it, but I have no doubt that what I say is true."
Percy stared, dumbstruck. He was afraid to move a muscle, feeling like any movement would unhinge him and give way for all of his emotions. With trembling hands, he Accioed a notepad and a quill and wrote what Sirius had told him down, barely able to make out legible letters at all. He knew Sirius had not told anybody this. He knew he was the first one to hear it, and it was an unexpected and enormous act of kindness on Sirius's behalf.
When he finally forced himself to look up at Sirius, he found the man staring at him with the same intensity Percy had come to expect.
"Thank you," he breathed out.
It was an unexpected notion when Sirius suddenly reached out his hand, palm up, toward Percy. Percy sat frozen, unsure of how to react. With a sigh, Sirius leaned forward and placed his hand over Percy's and squeezed lightly. Here was a man most in need of comfort, perhaps, offering to give it away. It hit Percy hard. They sat unmoving for a long time.
~*~
Percy began to read out loud. It was a way to spend time together without having to speak. Talking didn't come easy to them. Sirius had begun to remember more, and from one particularly vivid description had given an account that led Healers to believe that he may have been bitten by a Chimaera. The lion's head, goat's body and dragon's tail certainly matched the description. It was as rare a beast as it could get, and it took weeks for the Healers to develop an ointment. To their incredulity, it worked. Slowly but surely, it was healing the wound.
Percy had realized almost immediately that he was looking forward to his time with Sirius. Sometimes, Sirius would be laughing and cheerful, while others he became gloomy and violent, but Percy enjoyed their time together. Often he would look up from his book to find Sirius staring with a look that made his stomach twist in a knot. Those eyes really were something. Percy had learned how to stare boldly back into them, which seemed to amuse Sirius quite a lot. He would stare him down with a small smirk. It was a game they played that made Percy tingle all over. He was beginning to be afraid of his own reactions.
Without many actions or occurrences to signify it, Percy could say that they were growing closer. He felt comfortable with Sirius, and, even during the worst of his violent moods, trusted him. He had no doubt it was mutual. They didn't speak a lot, but it seems their eyes had conversations of their own. More often than not, Percy was not let in on the secret of what they were about, but he had an inkling he was too afraid to ponder on.
It had been about three months since Sirius had come into their lives when Percy was surprised to find Sirius sitting in the armchair when he came in, out of bed on his own for the first time.
"I got up," Sirius announced proudly and grinned. Percy gave him a small smile. "It hurts like the devil to walk, but it's good to get up."
Percy came up to stand by him and lay the book he was holding on the bed. He could immediately see that Sirius looked different today. His eyes shone in a way that made Percy nervous, and he seemed more confident somehow. Predatory was the word that came to mind immediately. He was happy, too. Percy hadn't known him before the war, but he got a vivid image of Sirius being just like that in his youth.
"Do you remember what you were doing the first time I lay eyes on you?" Sirius asked, his eyes lighting up. Percy thought he felt himself blush. Sirius hadn't brought that up once since the incident. "I always looked at my scars as ugly, really. But you made them into art, almost." Sirius grinned and opened his shirt, revealing his scarred chest. "Would you do that again?"
Percy's mouth fell open and, being completely aware of that fact, he failed to close it. This was as bizarre and unexpected a request as it could get, and Percy had no idea how to interpret it. He was also very sure it was all levels of inappropriate and, he realized with a pang of unfamiliar feeling, quite sexual. He stared at Sirius, waiting for him to laugh and declare it one of his many strange jokes, but Sirius wasn't laughing. He stared into Percy's eyes with a small smile, as if challenging him and seeing what he would do next.
"I don't think that's a very good idea," Percy managed to squeeze out finally.
Slowly, Sirius leaned forward and grabbed the front of Percy's robes, pulling. It wasn't as violent or angry as it had been the first time Sirius had done that, and Percy, to his own surprise, obliged in slowly coming closer. When he was right in front of Sirius, their knees touching, Sirius pulled himself up, wrapped one of his arms around Percy's neck and pulled him down, bringing their lips together.
It seemed to Percy that something had exploded in his stomach as he waited for his common sense to snap him out of it. But his common sense seemed to have shrivelled up and died, because the kiss was becoming more passionate, Sirius deepening it roughly and then pulling Percy down until he was sitting in Sirius's lap, and Percy wasn't stopping him.
"I have forgotten what this feels like," Sirius murmured. His words were a rather jarring awakening.
"We can't do this," Percy said, making a humongous effort to pull away. He didn't want to, but if his common sense decided to slumber, his sanity did not. Why was Sirius doing this? Was this a whim of an unstable mind? Perhaps it had just been too long since Sirius had sex, plain and simple, and Percy was the only one available. If it was a different circumstance, Percy knew, he wouldn't hesitate a second. But this was...
"We aren't doing anything wrong," Sirius said, keeping Percy on his lap firmly and slowly removing his robes off his shoulders. He looked slightly manic now, completely engrossed, frenzied.
"We are." It came out in a gasp, because Sirius bit Percy's neck hard.
"Merlin, you smell good," Sirius growled into his neck and bit again, this time eliciting a loud moan.
"We shouldn't," Percy insisted. "Sirius, please."
Sirius leaned back and opened his arms, leaving Percy to sit unsupported.
"Ok, then," he whispered, biting his lip, a gesture that made Percy up to this point undecided cock to grow hard immediately. "He leaned in again, leaving his arms spread out, and breathed out in Percy's ear, making a soft moan. "Get off. If you don't stop me now, I will not be able to stop." He kissed Percy's earlobe lightly. "You should know, though, that I wanted you the moment I opened my eyes and found you bent over my chest doing that bloody strange thing you were doing with my scars."
Percy made to move and couldn't. Sirius wasn't holding him down anymore, but something definitely was. It was the something that made Percy want to be around Sirius despite his fear. Because of his fear. It was the same something, as well, that made him close his eyes and, for the first time in his life, declare to himself that he really just didn't give a rat's ass. He hadn't wanted anyone like this in a long time. Sirius exuded power, control, an almost crazy drive, and it was something that made Percy want it. He didn't know how to say it, but their eyes met and Sirius understood. His grin was triumphant and Percy might even have found it endearing if his mind could string together thoughts now that lust had completely taken over.
Sirius let out a low growl and practically ripped Percy's shirt off, scattering the buttons, and pulled their bodies together again, their bare chests pressing close. His hands were caressing Percy's back and biceps, nails sinking into Percy's shoulders, making him gasp. In a fluid motion, Percy slid off Sirius's lap and was on his knees in front of him. He moved to remove his glasses, but Sirius stilled his hand and shook his head.
"I love them," he said throatily, and it was all the reason Percy needed to let them alone.
With fervour, he sat up and started kissing his way down Sirius's chest, nipping in places and tracing every single scar with his tongue. It seemed he had wanted to do that forever. His glasses fogged up immediately, of course, as he knew they would, but he was barely looking, anyway. He could hardly distinguish between his five senses at all anymore.
It took him a record few seconds to finally free Sirius's erection from his trousers and he stared at it, transfixed. A few months ago if anyone mentioned Sirius Black, Percy would shrug and think of the ugly, scary posters he remembered. If anyone had asked him if he found Sirius Black intriguing or sexy, he would have laughed and probably thought the idea alone quite disturbing. Now he sat on his knees in front of the man he considered the sexiest man he had ever met, his cock in hand, and sincerely didn't care about anything but that moment.
"You like it?" Sirius asked, smiling down at Percy's fascination. Percy nodded and Sirius added, "First time?" Another nod.
"Need some guidaahhholyfuckPercy!"
Percy had licked the top of the head and then sucked it in, making Sirius shudder and throw his head back. Sirius spread his legs wider, obviously fighting the urge to thrust into Percy's mouth, and his hands grasped his shoulders tightly. As with everything, Percy was slow and systematic, teasing and exploring until Sirius was screaming and bucking his hips. Percy was sure that anyone within miles of the cottage could hear Sirius's screams flowing out of the open windows, but the thought only made him harder. Sirius was moaning and writhing under him in pleasure from something he was doing. Percy didn't care if everybody he had ever known gathered around the house to watch and listen. He freed his own erection and started pumping desperately, syncing the movement of his mouth and the movement of his hand. His other hand gently cupped Sirius's balls.
Percy came first, trembling all over, his screams only muffled by Sirius's cock. Sirius came a few minutes later, his body shooting up and then collapsing into the chair, releasing a spur of hot come into Percy's mouth. Percy leaned into Sirius, pressing his head into Sirius's stomach, Sirius's hands in his hair. They sat like that, panting, catching their breath for a few moments until Sirius gently pushed Percy away and stood up slowly, with a painful effort. He sank down on the bed, lifted his legs up slowly, and then finally stretched out on his back.
"Come here," he murmured, and Percy pulled himself up off the floor, his legs trembling and feeling like cotton, and lay down next to Sirius, facing him on his side.
"We should probably get dressed," Percy said, enjoying the cool breeze on his naked sweaty skin. "Harry can come early, you know."
Sirius turned his head to look at Percy and the manic, mischievous glint was back. He arched an eyebrow. "You mean we're done?"
"You mean we're... not?" Percy asked, unsure if he could move for fatigue and weakness.
"Percy, I hadn't had sex in twelve years," Sirius said lightly. "I'm going to bugger you until you're unconscious, and then you're going to come to and I'm going to bugger you some more. And that's pretty much what your life will be like from now on."
For the first time in a long time, Percy laughed. "I work, you know."
"I know." Sirius nodded solemnly. "My caretaker, right?"
They both grinned.
"So... Was it just the sex, then, that you were looking for?" Percy asked. He knew perfectly well that people hated the "where is this going?" question right after sex, but this time he really wanted to know. He really wanted to hear an answer he would be happy with.
Sirius contemplated the question for a few moments. "Well," he started, "it was sex. But with you. Let me tell you, quite a few handsome Healers had been to take care of me, but... Nah, it was you, Percy. I just came back from the dead, it's been many years, and I don't know whether I'm ever going to be able to piece together what happened during those years and why. I can't really tell you anything aside from the fact that I want to live my life now and be happy, and that I would like that life to be filled with a lot of sex with you."
Percy nodded. It was a very back-handed confession of Merlin only knew what, but it was enough for now. It was good. Sirius was healing and would be ok soon. His coming back would eventually be announced, and he'd get a new wand and a place in their society. Maybe then Percy would take Sirius out on a date. Maybe one day they would form something more than they were now, but that was all in the future. They'd take it as it comes.