Entry tags:

!status: complete, ^date: november 11 2003, character: percy weasley

Who: Percy Weasley
What: A break from the usual nightmares - with an entirely new one
Where: Percy's flat/Percy's subconscious
When: November 11 - 4AM ish
Rating: Language, but that's all.

---

"Weatherby!!!"

Percy's head sprang up from the desk he'd fallen asleep on, and looked around in a panic. He turned, realizing the voice had come from behind him.

"You miserable little leech! Sleeping on the job? After everything you've done, you don't deserve to sleep."

His eyes widened in shock at those that had assembled there, watching him with accusing eyes. The first was-

"M-Mister Crouch! Sir, I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to-"

"Of course, boy. Just like you didn't mean to get me killed? You remember, don't you - if it hadn't been for your ignorance, I would be alive today."

"Oh, stuff a sock in it, Barty," spoke the second person standing before Percy, whose hair resembled a lion's mane. "At least he didn't just hand you over to Death Eaters like he did me."

"That's not what happened!" Percy protested, though the accusation stung, as it had been thought of many, many times.

"Oh, of course not," Rufus Scrimgeour said with a sneer. "You just moped about, trying to find a distraction from your bloody brother's wedding, waiting for me to ask you to come in on a Saturday to work on something together to occupy your mind. You knew there was danger, and knew that weekends were when the Ministry was the least secure. You put me in danger and you knew it!"

"Hey, don't be so hard on the fool," said the third of the group. "It's not fault he's an idiot with horrible timing. I mean, telling a joke in the middle of a battle? It's no wonder I died with him watching my back."

Tears were now flowing freely down Percy's face, but he didn't care. "Fred, please, I didn't mean to distract you. You know that."

"Perhaps, since you're so good at distracting, you should have distracted me," said the lone female of the group, and the newest addition. "You knew I was desperate to find my brother's killer. I came to you to talk some sense into me, not because I even liked you after everything you did to me."

Percy stood up and took a step toward her. "Penny, I'm so sorry. I thought you would wait until you'd spoken with Ron, that you'd let the authorities handle it."

"Liar!" Her accusing eyes practically glowed in anger. "You figured I deserved to be hurt again, like you did years ago. You just couldn't let me go, could you? And you have the nerve to mourn me, as if you weren't the real cause of it all. If you hadn't made me leave you, none of this would have happened!"

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," Percy chanted over and over like a mantra. He dropped down to his knees, his face falling into his hands...

When he was suddenly grabbed up from the floor by two men, one each holding one of his arms as he was thrown up against a wall. Both of them wore black cloaks and white masks, yet one of them had eyes that would haunt him forever.

"You think you don't deserve to be punished for your crimes, simply because you weren't the one who held the wand that killed them?" The one with the eyes removed his mask. "Like you did us? Don't deny for a second you didn't want me dead."

Percy struggled in their hold, but was helpless. "It was a battle. I was after Rookwood, and-"

"And my friend got in your way, I remember. But I didn't. You heard my voice, and wanted to finish me off personally."

He shook his head frantically. "No. You were attacking some students. I couldn't let you do to them-“

“What I did to you?” The cold face sneered with an expression that for five years Percy had believed was the face of pure evil. “It’s not like I tried to kill you, you little wand-waggler. I just saw what everyone else saw in you, and thought I’d have a little fun. What, you mean it wasn’t fun for you?” The man’s laugh permeated the room. “You didn’t like me touching you at your desk? You didn’t like being Imperiused and made to suck my cock? You didn’t like me threatening to kill your little ex-girlfriend in Azkaban, or your Dad a few floors away, if you ever told what had happened? Not that they’d have minded, we both know they’d have let me do whatever I wanted to you. In fact, they did…”

As the man spoke, Percy was filled with such rage that he was finally able to throw them off. “Yes! I wanted you dead!!! Is that what you want to hear? I wanted to see you writhe on the floor in pain, and know that it was because of what you did to me!”

An arm slipped over Percy’s shoulders, and he looked aside to Fred’s surprisingly sympathetic face. “It’s all right, Perce. I know it wasn’t your fault. You’re just cursed, that’s all. Everyone who comes in contact with you gets hurt in some way. We’re just the worst of it.”

And now behind the others, Percy could see Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, Pius Thickness, and last but not least, his entire family. “No,” he whispered.

“You said so yourself to Ron. You’re cursed. You should have realized it years ago, but hey, better late than never, eh Perce? Though at this point, the best thing you could do would be to kill yourself. It’s the only way to make sure nobody else gets hurt because of you, and you know it.”

Percy wanted to argue, to ask how Fred could suggest such a thing, but one look around showed that every person around him agreed. They all mouthed kill yourself and you’re cursed until Percy’s eyes finally stopped on the one person who had always loved him unconditionally, no matter what he had done or how he’d acted.

“You know it’s the right thing, Percy,” Molly Weasley said in her usual motherly fashion. “That way, you’ll never hurt me again.”

Percy screamed…

---

He woke up trembling in his bed, shaken to the core. The voices in his nightmare still rang through his mind, accusing him, telling him what seemed to be the answer.

As he’d said to Ron, he was cursed. He would have to find a curse-breaker – someone other than Bill, because his brother would no doubt try to talk him out of it. And if whatever this was couldn’t be undone, then he would either have to live with the fact that he would hurt everyone he loved…

…or kill himself.