|percyficmod (percyficmod) wrote in percy_ficathon,|
@ 2007-09-06 15:18:00
|Entry tags:||fic, percy/harry, r, slash|
A gift for florahart!
Title: In Words and Deeds
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: approx. 5080
Warnings: Infidelity, DH spoilers
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. Making no money.
Summary: Percy has problems. Not the least of which is that Harry Potter happens to be his brother-in-law.
Author's Notes: Special thanks to E for the beta! This story is somewhat DH compliant, though it doesn't take the epilogue into account. Hope you enjoy, florahart! It's my first time writing this pairing.
From the diary of Hermione Granger
25 June 2009
It doesn't seem to matter that I've known Harry for all these years; I don't understand him at all. I've tried to tell him that Ron is the strategist, but he's still insisting on this ludicrous plan to insert himself into wizarding politics without the slightest input from Ron and me. Honestly. He's going to fall flat on his face, that's what he's going to do. And of course we'll be there to pick him up and dust him off. We always are. Still, I just wish he'd realize that he's an adult now. He needs to start exercising due caution with these things. I don't know how Ginny handles it.
It's almost as though he enjoys walking into the Ministry these days. Even with that horrible Rita Skeeter breathing down his neck every time he sets foot in the building, and Percy bloody Weasley in charge of the MLE. (I realize that he's technically my brother-in-law, but the man is still a complete swot.) Even if he does go through with this ludicrous plan to complete his Auror training, then run for public office, it will never work. These so called journalists are vicious things, always looking for a reason to tear him down. I swear, Harry Potter is going to be the death of me.
Percy Weasley knew that almost no one had wanted him to get the job. When Gawain Robards had stepped down as head of the MLE, no one had suggested Percy as his successor. No one except the Minister himself, of course. But when Kingsley Shacklebolt also stepped down a month later, citing his new son as a reason to spend more time with his family, Percy found himself with hardly an ally amongst his superiors.
Oh, he was qualified for the position. He had all the credentials necessary, not to mention the Order of Merlin First Class for his participation in the defeat of Voldemort; his experience wasn't the problem. It was his personality. Percy knew that. He knew people didn't like him. If he were to be honest, he'd have to say that he knew exactly why people didn't like him.
Knowing what it was that made him impossible to be around and doing something about it were two different things, however, and Percy wasn't going to change. He wasn't confident like Bill, or gregarious like Charlie, or quick-witted like Ron. He wasn't funny like George. And he couldn't possibly think of a single thing he had in common with Ginny. He was uptight and arrogant and deeply insecure, and finally getting people to recognize his courage didn't really seem to change any of that. It didn't make him more likeable.
Luckily for Percy, the head of the MLE didn't have to be likeable. In fact, things worked more smoothly if he wasn't. He sat at his kitchen table, watching a cup of tea grow cold in front of him. The pipes beneath his feet rumbled with rushing water, and he frowned by reflex as he sifted through his paperwork. He could afford a bigger place, a nicer place, but really, what use did he have for it? He lived here all alone save for Hermes. What would be the point?
He frowned thoughtfully as he noted that a team of Aurors had been sent to an area not far from Shell Cottage for a raid of possible dark materials. The crease in his brow lengthened as he looked up to see a Ministry owl tapping on the windowpane. He let the owl in and took its correspondence, paling as he read the script.
There had to be some sort of mistake, he thought. Surely the Aurors knew who Bill was, and that he was incapable of this sort of thing. This information couldn't be right. Shaking his head, he grasped blindly for his Ministry robe, hung neatly over a kitchen chair. He had to get to the Ministry right away.
From the diary of Ronald Weasley
1 July 2009
My brother Percy is a bloody miserable wanker. I knew he was faking it for all these years. Bill has been in jail – JAIL! – for three days now and Percy hasn't done a thing to get him out. His own brother. It's a fucking travesty of justice, that's what it is. Harry keeps telling me to calm down, but I will NOT CALM DOWN.
What kind of a Ministry are they running when a man can get himself locked up for being 'in the vicinity' of a shed full of dark objects?
I wanted to have a little talk with Percy myself, but Harry's insisting he gets to do it. Hermione says that's fine by her so I guess I'm outnumbered.
Also, Hermione is making me keep this thing. She says it's good for the 'growth of my soul' or some rot like that. Really. My wife is not right in the head sometimes.
"Percy," Harry said plaintively.
Percy raised his eyes but not his head, staring at Harry over the tops of his glasses. "I'm beginning to think you keep coming in here because you enjoy the Ministry, Harry," he said.
He was almost certain that for just one flash of a moment, Harry's cheeks had colored. Percy adjusted his glasses and looked down at his desk.
"I… I'm sorry, Harry. It's the same answer as last time."
Harry looked at Percy steadily through his own lenses, blinking slowly, and Percy fought the urge to squirm in his seat.
"The Wizengamot specifically stated…" he began, licking his dry lips.
"The Wizengamot doesn't seem too broken up that your brother is sitting in Azkaban right now, Percy," Harry said. "Why should I care what they think?"
"Bill's situation is… unfortunate."
"Unfortunate?" Harry barked out a short laugh that made Percy jump. "All you have to say is that it's unfortunate? You're a piece of work, Percy."
"I'm doing all I can, Harry," Percy said. "He doesn't get special consideration for being my brother. It wasn't my fault."
"It was your Aurors' faults," said Harry. "Which brings me back to my point."
"You think you can make a difference, don't you?" Percy said, and he felt the venom dripping heavy like molasses from his words. "You think that just because you're Harry Potter, you can change this."
Harry got to his feet, brushing the hair from his forehead with the back of his hand, making it all stand on end in a way that made Percy ball his fists and bring his hands to his lap. He wanted desperately to get to his feet and fix it.
"Yeah," Harry said. "I guess that's the case I'm making." His teeth dug into his bottom lip and Percy watched a line of white blossom across the red as his stomach wound itself in knots.
"Right," Percy said. "Well… you know my stance." He gave Harry a curt nod, then looked down at his paperwork, but the pounding of his pulse in his ears made it impossible to read the words. He was acutely aware of the door slamming crisply behind Harry as he left.
Later that afternoon, Percy would have harsh words with several members of the Wizengamot who had many years seniority over him. By the end of the conversation, they had sent for the head of the Auror department to draft a letter to Harry Potter, requesting his presence at the Ministry for an official interview, and they'd promised to look into Bill Weasley's alleged wrongful imprisonment.
At home that night, Percy went straight to the bottle of wine he kept for very stressful occasions, drank two glasses straight away, and promptly passed out face down across the foot of his bed.
From the personal journal of Bill Weasley
8 July 2009
Finally out of jail. Fleur was over the moon when I got home. Not literally, thank Merlin's pointy fucking stick. Harry came to visit me every day. Ginny has a good husband there.
Think I'll write Charlie. Maybe we'll go to Romania on holiday for a bit and get away from all this madness. Plus, the bloody wanker owes me. I cleaned him out in wizard's poker last time I was there and didn't make him pay up. Getting out of the country might lesson the urge to march into the Ministry and throttle Percy.
"So," Percy said, as if that were the entire statement in itself. "So." His adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he shifted his weight. "You've made it to Auror training."
His office was so quiet in between Percy's stilted attempts at conversation, that he swore he could hear the floor swallowing up every sound.
Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Um, thanks for that. I know you had something to do with it."
Percy looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. "The department needs an overhaul. You said so yourself."
"I did." He could hear Harry's smile, feel the step Harry took in his direction, and Percy realized they were alone, with the office door closed tightly. His cheeks grew hot with the thoughts that blossomed from that realization.
Then Harry's hand was on his shoulder and Percy jumped.
"Oh, sorry," Harry said with a soft snort. "I… I wanted to see if you were all right."
"Of course I'm all right," Percy said sharply. And he was all right, because he certainly wasn't standing here thinking about the way Harry's hand—no, make that his sister's husband's hand—was lingering on his shoulder. "Why wouldn't I be all right?"
"You're trembling," Harry said plainly.
Harry snorted. "All right then. Whatever you say." The stood in silence for a moment, then Harry spoke again. "Why do you always look at me like that?"
"Like what?" said Percy.
"Like you're undressing me with your eyes."
Percy sputtered indignantly. How dare Harry notice that? No one was supposed to notice that. Especially not Harry. Or Ginny. Or anyone else related to Percy for that matter.
"I've never done any such thing," he said, avoiding Harry's eyes.
Though Percy didn't notice exactly when it happened, Harry's breath had gone soft and heavy with discomfort.
"I've… um… I noticed because I've… looked at you the same way," Harry said, and now Percy looked up to meet his gaze. Did he really just hear that?
"Like… you want to undress me?" Percy said.
Percy wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, but he feared that if he moved his arm, Harry would pull his hand away from Percy's shoulder.
"Well," Percy said instead. "That's… something."
Harry smiled. "Something you want?"
"I… erm… What? I mean, I haven't thought about it… often. Well, I have, but… there are considerations."
"I keep wondering what it would be like," Harry said, as if Percy hadn't protested at all, "to touch you like this." And his hand slid from Percy's shoulder, down over his chest, slowly mapping the planes of Percy's abdomen.
Percy choked down a sound he was certain would sound nothing like an actual word.
"Or maybe like this," Harry murmured, and he slid his hand down further still, to cup Percy's crotch.
"A-Are you thanking me for getting you what you wanted?" Percy asked, the words followed by a hoarse laugh.
"I'm getting what I want right now," Harry said, dipping his head to ghost his lips over Percy's jaw. "I'll save the thank yous for later."
Percy shivered, his molars clacking together as he raised his hips just a little, pressing into Harry's touch, loath to look too greedy for it, even though he was. Part of his rational mind knew he should have had a conscience overriding these lustful urges, but it was nowhere to be found.
Harry raised his head, parting his lips, and Percy leaned forward in anticipation, their glasses clattering together with a clumsy noise at the corners. Harry's lips quirked up and his tongue slid along Percy's bottom lip, and Percy forgot that his conscience had ever existed in the first place.
From the non-dream journal of Luna Lovegood
11 November, 2011
Percy Weasley is a very strange beast indeed. I did a bit of intrepid reporting at the Ministry today, and after being passed around like a Fern-Lipped Gullyreed at a Frogroller's contest, I ended up in his office.
His face went all pale and long when I asked for his unofficial personal stance on Harry completing his Auror training, like he'd seen a grim. Well, what did he expect? That I'd march into the Ministry and demand their official position on the event? As if that would get me the real story. Oh no, this was much more telling.
When I asked him if Harry was any good, he spit a mouthful of tea right into his hand. I'll have to consult the Conspiracy Theorist's Handbook of Body Language to find out exactly what it means, but I suspect it's going to be terribly interesting. All in all, I think it was a productive day.
Minister Barnabus Hyde was a massive man, broad-shouldered and tall, with a critical eye that swept over his offices regularly, keeping all the Ministry personnel on edge. He'd use his imposing size to his advantage, his angular jaw jutting out as he towered over some cowering secretary, demanding answers immediately. Minister Hyde was all about demands. He was everything Kingsley Shacklebolt was not, and it seemed that no one could quite figure out how he'd come to be Kingsley's successor.
Percy, quite honestly, didn't know how to take the man. He'd never given Percy the same level of scrutiny he'd given every one else, and Percy couldn't help but fear that was because he was saving it all up for one grand dressing-down, perhaps complete with sacking Percy from the Ministry entirely. And now that he stood in Hyde's office, the door tightly closed behind him, the probability of that event coming to pass right now weighed on his stomach like lead.
"You've been in this position for how long now, Weasley?" Hyde barked. He stood facing away from Percy, gazing at a portrait on the wall with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Erm, three years… sir," Percy said, straightening his shoulders.
"Yes, yes. And in that time, would you say it's been a pleasure working under me?"
Percy blinked rapidly. "Of course, sir." The words didn't taste right.
"Very good." Hyde turned around. "It's been a pleasure working with you as well, Weasley." His voice was smoother now, slicker, and his wide mouth curved in a faint smile as he took a few long strides toward Percy.
"There might be great things in store for you at the Ministry, Weasley. If you're willing to… accommodate."
Then Hyde's fingers were brushing over Percy's shoulder, grazing his neck, and Percy wondered what had happened to all the air in the room.
"Sir, you're a married man," Percy said, trying very hard to edge away from the Minister without being obvious.
"My wife has had her affairs over the years," Hyde said, chuckling softly. "I'm allowed mine, don't you think?"
Percy swallowed hard. "No, sir," he said, and his voice sounded embarrassingly small to his own ears. He straightened his shoulders. "No, I do not. It's not right."
Hyde chuckled again, then leaned nearer to Percy's ear. "I'll let you rethink that answer, my boy," he said smoothly. "You could have a splendid career here at the Ministry, Weasley." He pulled his hand away from Percy's shoulder demonstratively. "But I suppose you're not yet too old to switch careers, are you?"
"Consider your options carefully, Weasley," Hyde said sternly. "You're dismissed."
From the diary of Percy Weasley
14 November, 2011
That is all I have to say at this time.
The thing about dating an Auror, or secretly dating an Auror as was Percy's case, was that they sometimes had assignments that kept them away from home. That meant overnight visits. Though Percy would never dream of divulging this information to anyone, he loved overnight visits with Harry. Most of them were spent touching and whispering and generally carrying on the kind of clandestine interludes that Percy had never allowed himself to dream about before.
Tonight, however, he crept into the room where Harry was staying on clumsy feet, distracted by what had happened at the Ministry.
Harry was already in bed, lights out, as Percy slipped inside the room at the inn. Normally, he would have curled up close and fallen asleep himself, leaving other activities till morning, but not tonight. He stripped out of his clothes and transfigured his trousers into pajama bottoms, carefully pulling them on, then folding the rest and setting them neatly on the dresser.
"Harry," Percy whispered as he climbed into the bed. "Harry, I need your help."
"I know you do," Harry said thickly, rolling over onto his back. "You're bloody hopeless."
"I'm serious." Percy pulled the covers up to his neck and pressed himself against Harry. "The Minister wants to have sex with me."
Harry's eyes opened wide and he stared up at the ceiling. "What?"
"Hyde. He's going to have me sacked if I don't."
Harry's brow creased and he blinked slowly. "But he can't do that. It's against the law."
"You're right," Percy said, utterly unamused. "No politician in the history of the Ministry of Magic has ever done something against the law. I don't know what on earth I'm worried about."
"Well, what're you going to do about it?"
"Nothing," said Percy. "It's my career or… or…" God, this was even hard to say. "He's a married man, Harry."
"So am I," Harry said, and this time his voice was quiet, with a note of unsteady guilt. "I'm married to your sister, Percy."
Percy's world went cold and he fidgeted beneath the sheets, edging away from Harry.
"I know," he thought he whispered, but the only sound in the room was a weak gasp of hoarse breath.
"But we never talk about that, do we?" Harry said. "We never talk about what we're doing here. We're breaking rules Percy. All sorts of rules. Don't you even care?"
"Of course I care!" Percy said quickly. "Of course I do. She's my sister! I care. But…" But what? All's fair in love and war? Ludicrous. "I know she's my sister."
"How long is this going to go on, Percy? How long can we do this before we miss something, before someone notices something… Do you know what it's like for me? I married Ginny. In front of your whole family, and my best friends, I stood up there and married her. And then there was you, and I just couldn't stay away. I couldn't…" Harry was rambling now, and Percy was hardly listening.
He stared up at the dark ceiling, the door on the other side of the room beckoning him with easy escape, and he could feel this little fantasy world starting to crumble around the edges.
"I can't do this anymore," Harry was saying, but Percy's quick mind had already met that end. He'd already pushed back any hint of emotion, bound every last hint of feeling tightly and squelched it.
"Are you going to stay the night?" Harry asked, but the words were dull and made Percy feel wholly unwanted.
"No. No, I'll… I'll leave now."
And then they lay in silence for nearly half an hour before Percy could convince his legs to carry him from the bed.
From the diary of Harry Potter
27 November, 2013
Today I told Ginny that I'm gay.
She already knew. She says it breaks her heart a little bit, but she's not surprised.
I didn't tell her about… him. But she knew there had been someone. I suppose it's official then. I'm now the Boy Who Came out of the Closet Ten Years after He Got Married. It doesn't have the same ring to it, really.
She asked me where I plan to go from here. I don't have a clue. I've got my work, though. That's enough for now, I think.
I still miss him sometimes.
Percy hadn't been paying attention to where he was walking. His mind had been on work, his focus fixed firmly on avoiding any thoughts of the ways in which Harry had made good on his promises to change the Auror department. Therefore, it was all he was thinking about. He'd known all along that Harry could do it if he tried. And somehow, despite being in charge of the MLE, despite Harry's overwhelming presence at the Ministry, Percy had avoided speaking to him face to face in over two years.
In fact, Percy had found that he could go nearly an entire day without thinking about Harry at all. At least that was how it had been, until last month. Gossip spread fast within the Ministry, but even faster through the Weasley family, and when Harry and Ginny split, Percy heard about it from every conceivable direction. And now the thoughts of Harry, any thoughts of Harry, couldn't be banished no matter how hard he tried. Harry was like a flame that could not be doused flickering in the back of Percy's mind. He was a compulsion.
Percy looked up suddenly, unsurprised to see Harry standing right there in his path. You couldn't think about a person so much and not make them appear in front of you at some point. Harry, however, seemed more surprised.
"Percy," he said.
"Harry." Percy licked his lips.
"How's Ginny?" Harry asked, looking down at a spot on the pavement beyond Percy's feet.
"She's… She's good," Percy said, nodding. "She stayed at the Burrow for a while, but now she has her own place. It's close to the embassy. She likes it."
Harry swallowed and Percy watched the way his adam's apple bobbed, feeling as though there were a string connecting Percy's abdomen to Harry's throat, as Percy's stomach leapt with its every movement.
"Bill paid me a visit," Harry said.
Percy frowned. "What did he have to say?"
Harry shrugged. "I should just be glad it wasn't Charlie, I guess."
"Did he lay a hand on you? I swear I'll—"
"No, no," said Harry. "Nothing like that."
"So you… You're…" Harry shifted his weight from what foot to the other. "You're still working for the Ministry, then."
"I'm technically your boss, Harry," Percy said. "Of course I'm…" He trailed off as the implication sank in. It wasn't that he still had his job, it was why. It was that conversation from two years ago when Harry got out of bed and walked out of Percy's life. Percy was never going to escape it. "Yes. Yes, I am," he said quickly. "I really should be going."
"You didn't have to do it, you know," Harry said, so smoothly that it was as if Percy had never tried to end the conversation.
"I… I know." Percy nodded. "I could have been noble."
Harry stepped forward, closer, and Percy's throat grew tight.
"What did you let him do to you?" Harry asked, reaching out and pushing an errant lock of hair behind Percy's ear.
Percy closed his eyes. "I… I appeased him until he lost interest," he said. "But not… I didn't… There was no… actual sex."
"Blowjobs, then?" Harry asked, and Percy gasped at the impropriety of it. That wasn't the kind of word you used around a man you hadn't spoken to in two years. Percy nodded again.
"I'm renting a place not too far from here," Harry said. "Do you want to—"
"Yes," Percy said.
It was only half a block to Harry's place. Half a block of hurried, silent steps and the press of a crowd of frustrating proportions and then a never ending staircase up to Harry's door. Inside, Percy didn't even pause to examine Harry's living conditions, or the state of the flat, because Harry's lips were on his throat, on that pulse point where Percy's blood was beating through his veins in quick bursts.
"Oh," Percy murmured, and then Harry's hands were inside his robe and beneath his shirt.
"Harry, I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have—"
"Shh. We shouldn't have done a lot of things." Somehow, Harry had managed to unbutton every button, and Percy's robe fell to the floor, then his shirt slipped over his shoulders. "Doesn't matter now."
"But it… but it does." Percy didn't know where to put his hands, and they were at once in Harry's hair and on his back and boldly traveling down to grasp his arse. "Doesn't it?"
Harry laughed. "No," he said as he shoved his hand down Percy's trousers, and then Percy knew that he was right.
Percy couldn't get out of his clothes fast enough, and neither it seemed could Harry. And by the time they were both undressed and had somehow made their way down to the bedroom, his cock was jutting out hard and eager, almost embarrassingly. Harry didn't seem to mind as he dropped to his knees as soon as they were inside the room, sliding his fist up and down Percy's cock, dragging his tongue around the head. Percy's legs went weak and he reached out to anchor himself with a hand in Harry's hair. Harry's mouth—wet, warm and consuming—was exactly as Percy remembered it, and he rocked his hips in earnest, never able to get enough.
"I'm… so close… Harry," he started rambling, too soon, and Harry pulled away abruptly.
Then the room was spinning and Percy was on his back and Harry's hand—oh, God, Harry's hand—was slick with something cool and thick, and he was rubbing it along the cleft of Percy's arse and Percy's entire body was thrumming. Harry's finger was inside him then, and Percy opened his eyes to look down and see Harry stroking himself with his free hand. Percy whimpered and clenched his teeth to keep from coming on the spot.
Harry was doing all the things that had always made Percy come apart, and by the time Harry's prick was sliding inside him, Percy was out of his mind with the need to come. He wrapped his leg around Harry's thigh, pulling Harry closer, reaching up to grip that wild hair again. Harry laughed suddenly, and grabbed for Percy's glasses, then his own, tossing them to the nightstand.
Percy opened his mouth to protest, but then Harry's cock was driving against his prostate, and the sound he made was long and keening instead. The world went fuzzy and soft around the edges, and Percy reached down, taking his prick in hand, stroking himself frantically as he felt Harry start to tense. It was perfect.
And then Harry was coming inside him, and Percy was coming all over them, and there was nothing in the world that was going to make this day any better. Later, curled around Harry in bed with the sweat cooling on his skin, Percy found that silence, and the rhythm of Harry's fingers brushing along the back of his neck, were all he needed, and the usual urge to talk about all this had fled.
From the diary of Ginny Weasley (formerly Potter)
12 December, 2013
So Harry is seeing Percy. My brother Percy. He paid me a visit to tell me about it himself. Percy did, not Harry. Harry would never do that. He's still too uncomfortable around me, too ashamed. Hermione says he's still trying to figure out who he is, but I think he's known for a very long time. I think he expects me to be angry. I'm not, though. When you love someone, you want them to be happy. I just want Harry to be happy.
But back to Percy. He was so nervous, his teacup was shaking all over the place, and he didn't even notice the hot tea he practically poured all over his lap. Silly thing.
It hurts, of course it does. Percy's my brother, after all. I'm not entirely altruistic though. I told him that I have no problems with it, but they're on their own when they tell my mum. Hermione thinks that's wicked of me. I told her there's such a thing as natural consequences, and that Harry needs to experience them for himself.
Maybe that's a little wicked.
Percy quit his job in the spring, when the trees were swelling with blossoms, and the world was green and wet. He packed up a little box at his desk, and left the Ministry. Gawain Robards was Minister now, returning from his early retirement after Hyde had been deposed in disgrace, and things were running much more smoothly. Percy, however, was finished with Ministry life. He was ready for a law firm of his own, and a small cottage with Harry. And once Molly's ire had passed—and it was Ginny who'd finally interceded on their behalf—Percy's nerves had settled a good deal.
Harry sat at the table, scanning the Daily Prophet over his tea.
"You'll be late this morning." He smirked at the paper and didn't look up.
"I know," Percy said, trying to sound unconcerned.
"Sorry about that—"
"Don't," said Percy. "Er… Don't ever be sorry about… that."
"About sex in the shower?" Harry said, and now he did look up.
Percy cleared his throat, his cheeks growing red. "Erm… yes."
"All right." Harry shoved a bite of toast into his mouth.
Percy took a deep breath, then sat down at the table, reaching for the cup of tea Harry had prepared him.
"Do you have a long day today?" Harry asked, folding the paper in front of him.
"I suppose I do," Percy said thoughtfully. "There are several cases that need my attention and I could do with some catching up on—"
"Come home early," Harry said.
"Come home early. When my shift is over. I want to see you tonight."
"I think that can be arranged," Percy said.
He dug his teeth into his lower lip, watching Harry for a moment before reaching for the paper. For as far as they'd come in four years, he still had a long way to go, but he had no doubt Harry was going to get him there.
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