Summersmut Mod (summersmutmod) wrote in hp_summersmut, @ 2009-08-19 00:00:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | 2009, fic |
[FIC] Guilt Trip :: Harry/Percy | gift for emiime
Title: Guilt Trip
Author:
Recipient: emiime.
Pairing: Harry/Percy.
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 4,432
Warnings: EWE, some passionate snogging, some injured people.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: When Percy is injured when he’s sent to deliver a message to Harry on an assignment, Percy is assured that Harry’s guilt is the only reason for his overwhelming concern. But perhaps not everything is as easy as Percy thinks it is, or as bad.
Author's Notes: I really hope you like this, dear reader! I’ve never written this pairing before, but it’s two of my favourite characters, and I had tons of fun writing for you! I tried to squeeze as many of the things you liked in as I could, though unfortunately I can’t write neither AU, nor anything to do with religion, hope that’s ok. It’s not as long as stories I usually write, but RL stepped in and set a limit. I hope I squeezed enough plot in there, though. :) Also, a million thank you to the mod, who was more understanding than I deserve. ♥
~*~
The accident was Percy’s fault and everybody, including him, realized it. Everybody but Harry. Percy always thought that it was one of Harry’s unfortunate character traits that made him take upon himself the responsibility and the weight of the world, but he supposed it was because it was forced on him for such a great portion of his life, eventually it simply became habit. Of course there was the Gryffindor bravery and nobleness that played a huge part in it, too, but if not for that Percy would surely have been dead, so he couldn’t exactly complain.
He felt a pang of guilt and shame every time he thought about it (and was lucid enough to think). There were many things that it would’ve made sense to do in the situation he found himself in – stuck in between two wands pointing at each other with nothing other than hostile intent. Run, step aside, even falling to the ground would be better than what he ended up doing – freezing in place.
He remembered Harry’s urgent, commanding, scared screams to get out of the way!, but he simply couldn’t will his body to move. It was mortifyingly embarrassing to think back on it. Percy had survived the final battle, where his life was endangered more than once, and was given his Order of Merlin: First Class, as well as proclaimed a war hero. To add to that, he was known as someone who had an uncanny ability to remain calm and rational during any situation (being a Prefect and Head Boy really helped develop those abilities), and cracking under pressure or panicking were things that no one would even think of putting in the same sentence as his name. Now, of course, that reputation was unsalvageable, ruined, and it really didn’t help that by his complete lack of common sense under duress, he endangered Harry Potter, of all people. He dreamt of his face plastered all over the front page of the Daily Prophet before he first gained consciousness.
He remembered what happened down to miniscule detail, though he wishes that of all the things he managed to injure, his head would have been one of them. He would’ve preferred to remember what happened the way Harry told it, not the way it actually happened.
It wasn’t usually the way to send a Ministry worked to deliver a message to an Auror on a stake-out, but this one was different, completely harmless, as Kingsley assured him. Percy worked right under the Minister, so he was the clear choice when an urgent and completely confidential message had to be delivered to the head Auror currently on assignment. Percy took it as a mundane task, though secretly he was immensely proud to have been entrusted something so confidential. Tasks like that were plenty, Kingsley trusted him completely with absolutely anything, but every time Percy felt an overwhelming feeling of pride and accomplishment, as if it was an unexpected honour. From young age all his siblings and classmates thought him snobby, and he knew he pulled off the facade of being the best and knowing it well, but in truth he treasured and felt accomplished every single time. The best didn’t come as easily and wasn’t as assured to him as he always made it look.
His assignment was rather simple – Apparate, hand Harry an envelope, pass on a message, Disapparate. “A monkey can do it, really don’t mean to bother you with something so mundane,” Kingsley joked, and in retrospect that joke stung quite a lot. A monkey could do it, and Percy failed spectacularly. In one of his semi-conscious delusions, he saw a monkey named Weatherby serving as Kingsley’s assistant while Percy ate bananas on display in a cage in the atrium.
He Apparated to the wrong coordinates, realizing that too late and missing the safe ward-protected area of the stake-out by miles. When his feet hit the ground, he immediately knew something was wrong, as he was standing about seven feet away from a dishevelled-looking Harry, whose wand was pointed directly into Percy’s face. He heard a shout from behind him as a spell flew inches away from his ear. Harry ducked just in time, but his mortified face was now fixed on Percy, obviously not worried about his own well-being anymore. He was screaming what Percy knew to be commands to Get out of the way!, and Percy’s logical mind calmly pieced together the situation and the fact that he landed smack in the middle of a duel, and the person behind him would not hesitate to kill him to get to Harry, but his body refused to move. He stood, rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on Harry’s with fear and confusion.
The rest Percy didn’t remember as clearly as everything else. There were many simultaneous screams and flashes, he caught figures behind Harry before something hit him hard in the back of the head, and he saw Harry lunge at him and tackle him to the ground. The last thing he remembered was Harry’s face inches away from his, asking him something urgently, and then everything went black.
He wasn’t sure whether he was still somewhere on the cold ground in the outskirts of England when he pried his eyes open and saw Harry’s concerned face hovering above him. Slowly, however, the realization that he was laying on something soft and the smell of rubbing alcohol and flowers brought on the realization that he was in a bed. He couldn’t see much without his glasses, but since he was definitely not home, he had to assume he was probably at St.Mungo’s.
Percy was surprised when he found himself almost unable to move, and even more surprised when Harry informed him that he had been out for over five days. Apparently, the rest of the Aurors had shown up just in time but, not expecting to see a third party in the way, fired counter-spells before Harry could pull Percy out of the way. Percy got him from both sides with quite a few spells, though from what he understood, he would’ve been hit by many more and probably killed if Harry hadn’t jumped at him. As it was, he was lucky to be alive.
At first, Kingsley blamed himself, watching Percy’s slow and stalling recovery. Slowly, however, the facts of the matter started to piece themselves together. Percy had missed the Apparition point. Percy stood frozen for so long any but minor injury probably could’ve been avoided altogether if he had done what was the smartest thing to do and gotten out of the way. Nobody blamed him, of course. Healers said that freezing was a perfectly common reaction to being attacked or finding oneself unexpectedly on the receiving end of a life-threat, and mis-Apparating was all that uncommon, either. Kingsley graciously admitted that any details aside, it was his fault, and quickly passed a law to never include civilians in any Auror operations or assignment, unless a very specific expertise was needed. Percy’s injuries were promised to heal soon enough, though, without any long-term repercussions, and it seemed to him the Ministry would be only too happy to sweep the whole occurrence under the rug.
As embarrassed and guilt-ridden as Percy felt, he thought he could actually get on board with that plan and move past the whole incident as quickly as humanely possible, but Harry presented a very big obstacle. Percy didn’t know how, exactly, but Harry had managed to blame the entire thing on himself. He wanted to shake the younger man and tell him that if not for him, Percy would’ve been dead, but Harry couldn’t see past the fact that he froze up in surprise, too, and didn’t push Percy out of the way quickly enough.
Percy found it difficult to try and dissuade Harry, because his pride didn’t allow him to straight out say that it was all his fault. He wasn’t even sure he made peace with it quite yet himself. Percy knew that for Harry, it was a combination of the fact that the Weasleys were the only family he had ever known, and the fact that he could’ve somehow prevented Molly looking as worried and distraught as she did tortured him. Even if he and Harry weren’t ever even remotely close. In fact, Percy could very easily say they were strangers. They were civil at family gatherings and semi-friendly when they met at the Ministry, but partially due to what Percy had once voiced regarding Harry before Voldemort’s coming back became common knowledge, and partially because of their completely opposite personalities, the two of them were unable to get along as easily as Harry got along with the rest of the Weasleys.
Despite the fact that they couldn’t even call themselves friends, however, Harry came to the hospital every day after he finished work. Percy dreaded those moments, though every day at five he brushed his hair, put on his glasses, sat up in bed and smoothed the covers on top of himself. He didn’t want to admit to himself he waited for Harry to come, rather preferring to think he got ready like this because Harry would inevitably appear either way, and Percy may as well look presentable.
They quickly discovered that neither of them was good at small-talk, and there was only so much small-talk one could come up with, anyway. They always started with Harry inquiring after Percy’s health, then updating him on the weather outside, and then finishing off by updating him on all the goings-on at the Ministry which, day-to-day, were pretty minimal. After that was sufficiently discussed, they sank into long uncomfortable silences neither knew how to break. They had nothing in common, and their personalities didn’t match up enough for that to build a friendship on. Percy had no interest in hearing about Quidditch or Auror assignments, and Harry simply didn’t understand a lot of things Percy talked about, like books he had recently read and long proposals he was thinking of submitting for the Minister’s approval.
Secretly, Percy wondered why Harry kept coming, when it was more than evident that these visits were awkward and painful for both of them. He knew Harry felt he owed Percy something, felt guilty, but it was high time for the feeling of debt to wear off. If Harry was coming out of some twisted feeling of duty, he had over abundantly made up for any guilt he felt by now. The Healers often noted to him in passing how impressed they were at Harry’s dedication, and how they must be great friends for Harry to come every day. Percy had to admit that the fact that it wasn’t true stung slightly more because of the fact that aside from his mother, Harry was really the only person who visited faithfully. He didn’t blame his family, of course. His father worked overtime, Ginny was away on games, both Bill and Charlie lived too far away, Ron was swamped with Auror-work, and George was feeling the pressure of running the joke shop all by himself now that Ron had moved on to finally pursue his dream as being an Auror. Kingsley stopped by sometime only for a minute here and there.
Percy didn’t want to think about it in those terms, but having the only “friend” who visited him not being a friend at all, and not wanting to be there in the first place, didn’t feel all that great. Before now, he never really missed friendships. Work was his life, as it had always been. He had his ideal job and it took most of his time. He politely conversed with his colleagues and was viewed as a pleasant young man, but he never bothered to make more than acquaintances, and most of his social life consisted of family dinners, half of which he couldn’t even find the time to attend. He never really had a chance to realize that if something took his work away, he had nothing. Of course, he never wanted or needed to take work out of the equation before, but now that he was forced to for a long period of time, things were starting to come into perspective, and it wasn’t the best one.
Awkward silences with Harry turned out to be not as bad as empty depressing silences with himself. Yes, Harry’s visits were painful, but he found himself dreading the time when he would be released from St.Mungo’s and forced to spend at least a month at home doing nothing, “healing”. He was sure Harry wouldn’t visit him at his flat, especially once Percy was up and about again, and the thought was surprisingly depressing.
~*~
It took fifteen minutes just to get off the couch, throw on some trousers, and shuffle through his tiny flat towards the door, but the knocker was relentless and insistent. Percy threw his door open with a sigh. He had been home a week, and he was expecting Molly, her arms full with dinner, groceries, and cleaning supplies. He knew she loved the fact that finally, for the first time in her life, she could baby him, and grudgingly he let her. He had deprived her of that joy when he was a child, and he couldn’t really say with a clear conscience that he disliked it. Molly’s presence and love brought the kind of comfort only mothers could supply, and Percy was only discovering that for the first time at thirty.
It wasn’t Molly. Harry looked slightly nervous and apprehensive, clutching a bag to his chest and immediately peeking behind Percy into the flat curiously. Percy wanted to feel irritated – he didn’t like guests that didn’t owl ahead, and he was in no shape to entertain – but he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but slightly excited at the sight of someone beside his mother.
“Hi!” Harry smiled and Percy forced himself to smile back. The awkward silence that followed made Harry twitch and then shove the bag he was holding into Percy’s hands. “I brought you some Butterbeer. You know, as a get well gift.”
“Thank you.”
Percy could see that Harry was only giving Percy the polite couple of beats to invite him in before walking away. He was in mid-turn when Percy made a snap decision. “Would you like to come in and have some of it with me?”
Harry’s face lit up in surprise and evident pleasure at being asked in after all, and Percy found himself stifling a thought of excitement that Harry actually seemed to want to be there. It was improbable, of course. Harry was most likely glad of Percy’s niceness, but secretly wishing he could be doing something else. Percy found himself hating everything that was Gryffindor about Harry. He wanted the other there, he wanted company, but he was sure he would rather Harry wasn’t there at all than feeling forced to be there.
Slowly, Percy made his way back to the couch and sank onto it with a groan. Harry, meanwhile, grabbed a couple of glasses and, scanning the room for alternatives for a moment, sat gingerly beside Percy. The couch wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big enough for the two of them, it seemed, and Percy found that they were almost uncomfortably close. It didn’t seem that Harry noticed that at all, though, so Percy fought the thoughts back and accepted the glass of Butterbeer.
They sipped their drinks in silence, Harry looking around him with evident curiosity. Secretly, Percy felt relieved that Molly had been by the previous day to clean. Usually, he kept his place in a pristine condition, but having difficulty standing or walking for a long time, he had to rely heavily on his mother and his spells to maintain neatness. He was glad Harry hadn’t visited when the place looked like a sty; Percy didn’t think he’d ever be able to live that down.
“You’re... erm... better?” Harry asked when he seemed to run out of things to stare at.
“I believe so. Still not as mobile as I would like to be, but I can be more or less self-sufficient now, and that’s a positive thing.”
“I bet.”
Percy sighed and leaned back, running his hand up and down his chest absent-mindedly. There it was again. Nothing to talk about, painful silence. He took off his glasses and chewed on one of the ear-pieces, a nervous habit he only allowed himself when he was alone. The silence was uncomfortable, but being with Harry wasn’t. Harry smelled strongly of wood fire, probably due to some assignment he had that day, and Percy loved that smell. He fought the completely inappropriate urge to lean over to Harry and sniff him, though the other was close enough for him to fully enjoy the scent as it was.
His reverie was interrupted by Harry clearing his throat. “Erm, would you like me to get you a shirt?”
Percy looked over at Harry in surprise and caught him glancing away from his chest. Now Harry was unmistakably blushing, and looking anywhere but at Percy. Percy cringed. Did Harry not like the sight of him without a shirt so much he actually felt the need to make an impolite move to remedy the situation? The explanation that made more sense would be that they weren’t really friends, so entertaining in only trousers was hardly appropriate and only added to the uncomfortable feeling of the entire affair, but Percy couldn’t help but immediately feel insecure. Of course Harry wouldn’t want to stare at him half naked. It wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. Percy never concentrated on the feelings, but he didn’t have a lot of esteem for his body. Covered in freckles and on the wiry side, he could clearly understand if someone else would find it unattractive.
“Right. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to look at...” Percy trailed off. His voice sounded much more dejected than he intended it, and the words that came out weren’t exactly what he planned to say, either.
Harry’s eyes widened in almost-panic and he began to shake his head frantically as Percy whipped up his wand and Accioed a shirt, only praying that the one that landed promptly on his knee was clean. Sniffing it as inconspicuously as he could manage he was assured that it was and began putting it on awkwardly. His shoulders and arms still hurt, and the act of putting on a shirt was actually quite exerting.
“No! I didn’t mean I didn’t want to.” Unexpectedly, Harry grabbed for the shirt rather roughly, pulling it easily out of Percy’s weak grasp. “It’s just the opposite! I didn’t mean it like that!”
Surprised and not exactly understanding, Percy tugged on the shirt again, but Harry wasn’t going to let him have it. He shook his head again and pulled again, practically throwing Percy, who had a much firmer grip on the material, forward.
Then, Percy wasn’t sure what was happening at all. There was a warm pressure on his mouth and the smell of fire wood was everywhere. It took him a long time to realize he was actually being kissed, practically pulled on top of Harry in a non-too-gentle way as Harry’s arms went around him firmly. Kissed by Harry. His usually logical mind that was capable to take anything apart and make sense of it was at a loss. How did they go from awkward silences to snogging? Why would Harry kiss him? And most importantly, why in Merlin’s balls did it feel so bloody awesome?
Harry leaned back suddenly, gasping, making Percy try and fail to suppress a groan. His glasses were askew, his eyes were shining with a passion Percy had a hard time believing was directed at him, but there was something else there... Percy’s stomach plummeted. Was that... regret?
“You kissed me.” Of a million things that Percy could’ve said at that moment, he was sure he found the randomest and stupidest thing to utter.
Harry was searching his face unsurely, looking for something, but he wasn’t moving away. “Yeah.”
“Now you regret it.”
“You negate everything, don’t you?” Harry frowned. “Why do you always think like that?”
“Do what?” They were talking now, but Percy was still pinned to Harry’s body, being half-cradled in his lap. Was Harry going to pull away and leave or pick up where he left off? “You’re only here because you feel like you have to be, always were by my hospital bed for the same reason, and now... this... you didn’t mean to... And you wanted me to put my shirt on because I look –”
Harry’s finger pressed to Percy’s lips and he shook his head, this time slowly and solemnly. “Exactly. Why must you think like that? You’re one of the most intelligent wizards I know, Percy, you can figure anything out, and yet somehow your mind doesn’t want to grasp the truth.” Harry planted another light kiss on Percy’s lips. “Why is that?”
“Truth?” Percy didn’t want to assume anything. He wouldn’t believe it even if Harry said it.
“I have a crush on you, Percy. A big old-fashioned, unreasonable, stupid crush. And yeah, I felt terrible that I couldn’t protect you more than I did –”
“You saved my life and –”
“I know. But if it was up to me, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all instead of being hurt as severely as you were.”
“But it wasn’t your –”
“I know, Percy, I’m not a kid too blinded by some kind of over-exaggerated sense of justice.” He smirked. “You thought I was, didn’t you? I know it wasn’t my fault. But that doesn’t mean it hurt any less to see you get so hurt and not being able to do something about it. To watch you in that bed barely recovering at all. I came because I cared. I was concerned and worried. Not because I felt I owed it to you.”
“But it was awkward!” Percy didn’t know why he kept grasping at threads and making the argument he didn’t want to be true. He supposed he just couldn’t accept what Harry was saying as easily as he would have liked to. “You obviously didn’t want to be there!”
“Stop it!” Harry growled. His hand was almost painful, grasping Percy’s neck and collar bone. “I was nervous because I have a school-girl crush on you, and as embarrassing as that sounds, I’m about as good with stuff like that as I ever was, which is to say I not good at it at all. I’m nervous and shy around you and I know I should grow up and have a little more guts but obviously I didn’t. And I had no way of knowing whether you were... I mean, except for that short time at Hogwarts with Penelope, there was no clear indication of whether you were... Well, I didn’t know. I asked you to put your shirt on because I didn’t want to jump your bones, and, as you can very well see, I did it anyway.”
Percy breathed out slowly, trying to calm his thoughts. They were racing a million miles a minute and all his logic and problem-solving skills went out the window. His mind seemed on overload. Harry Potter, his baby brother’s best friend and the saviour of the wizarding world had a crush on him, dull old Percy with no friends and no interests outside his career. Had a crush on him for a while. Everything that Percy interpreted a certain way concerning Harry was actually the exact opposite of what Percy thought was true.
He never even let himself entertain the possibility of liking Harry Potter. Yes, he did realize he liked blokes shortly after Penelope, but he kept his sexuality a secret. Most of his experiences were anonymous faces who didn’t know his name and whose names he wasn’t interested in learning. He didn’t know why he held it under lock and key, but somehow he didn’t want that kind of attention, positive or negative or any at all. Aside from having his hard work praised and acknowledged, he didn’t do well with attention. He didn’t want to “come out”, either. He just wanted to be left alone to his work.
Ha had always found Harry attractive. Like many girls back at Hogwarts, he saw the appeal of the strong hero who overcame obstacles and saved the world. But, through his family, he got to know the real side of Harry, and he didn’t mind that side at all, either. He always knew that he could easily allow himself to have a huge crush on Harry, but his common sense told him it would be a waste of time and emotion. Harry had once dated his sister, after all, was obviously not gay, and would never be interested in Percy even if he was. The fact that all this time he was wrong on both accounts threw Percy for quite a loop.
“So... What?” Percy’s throat felt dry.
Slowly, gently, Harry guided Percy’s body until the older man was completely in his lap.
“You haven’t pushed me away yet,” Harry said calmly, “so it’s fair to assume you will not be doing that.”He brought their bodies closer together and Percy allowed the stronger man to handle him, revelling how Harry could be rough and gentle and mindful of his injuries at the same time. “I know you’re hurt,” he added when Percy gasped quietly as a certain shift of his body, “and I’m afraid we’ll have to let your beautiful body heal before I can do the things I want to do to you, but there are other things we can do meanwhile.”
With that, they were kissing again, except Percy was answering hungrily now, trying to match Harry’s impatient passion. His mind wanted to think and analyze and probably self-deprecate, too, but Percy wasn’t going to let it yet. He wanted to sink into the sensation of Harry’s lips, breath, teeth, everywhere they could reach, and just concentrate on the feeling. He could panic, doubt, fear, and over-analyze later. And then Harry let it talk him out of it and take it all away again.
Of one thing Percy was absolutely certain. If mind over matter was a true concept, he would heal exceptionally fast from then on. He definitely needed a healthy body for what he knew was coming, and he couldn’t wait.