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A blood-curdling scream ripped through the house.
Percy stood, discarding his copy of The Daily Prophet carelessly on the floor of his study, trying to assess from where the scream had come.
They had been in their bedroom, hadn’t they? He ran down the hallway and didn’t see his daughters, only the remnants of the tea party he’d been under the impression they’d been having. Panic set in as he called to them, running into the kitchen.
“MOLLY! LUCY!”
“Daddy!” He heard Molly call and saw her standing outside under the tree in the backyard. Percy raced through the ajar door, and knelt next to Molly when he reached her.
“Molly, are you okay? What’s going on? Where is your sister?” He held his hands on her shoulders as she breathed rapidly, tears flooding her eyes. She said nothing, but pointed up above the roof of their brick home. Percy followed the line of her arm, soon hearing a giggle as a small blonde head came into view.
Bouncing precariously on a full-size broom just near the chimney was little Lucy, only four years old. Her apple cheeks were rosy, and her eyes were squinted in pure delight. “Look what I did, Daddy!”
Percy’s mouth hung open. He stood, one hand still on a now-sobbing Molly’s shoulder. “Shhh, shh, Mols, it’ll be okay,” he assured her.
“Lucy, dear, how did you get up there?” he asked, more to stall for time than out of pure curiosity. He glanced around the garden, wondering where the ladder had got to.
“I flew Daddy!” Lucy cried proudly, puffing up her chest, only to wobble once more on the broom. Molly tugged on Percy’s sleeve.
“She got Mummy’s broom out of the shed,” Molly said once Percy chanced looking away from Lucy. She crossed her little arms. “Then she climbed the tree and jumped off onto the broom,” she continued, stomping her foot as she added, “and then she flew.” She huffed, and Percy rolled his eyes, knowing she’d probably warned her sister that she wouldn’t be able to and had been proven wrong.
Percy removed his wand from his pocket slowly, knowing anything resembling trying to get Lucy down would only result in her instant revolt. “Luce, do you think you could come a little lower?”
He knew her answer before he finished asking.
“No Daddy! Flying’s fun!” She giggled again and floated higher above the roof, her chubby hands gripped tightly on the broom handle.
“Molly,” he called, trying to keep his voice devoid of the panic he felt. He heard her sniffle.
“Yes?” She wiped her nose on the arm of her jumper. Percy decided to disregard the urge to remind her that her sleeve was not a tissue.
“Daddy needs you to do him a favor, do you think you can help?” He glanced back to the roof where Lucy was now circling the chimney before looking back into Molly’s watery eyes. Molly nodded.
“Okay, I need you to go in the shed and get Daddy’s broom, okay?”
Molly’s head tilted.
“It’s the one with the black handle, probably towards the back.” He waited for some sign she’d understood. Of course, she’d never seen her father ride a broom, so this was all brand new information.
“Just run and get it, dear, okay? Quick as a flash,” he said hurriedly.
She took off at a sprint. Unfortunately, so did her little sister. He watched as Lucy became a blur and disappeared behind the other side of the house. After throwing the garden gate open, he ran to the front yard, where Lucy was now giggling with glee just over the apple tree.
“I can go fast, Daddy!” She reached a hand up to her face to smooth some hair off of her forehead, and Percy gasped as he saw how carelessly she floated there. She had no shoes on, one of her socks was scrunched down while the other was up, her skirt had flown up in flight to unceremoniously reveal her brightly colored pants underneath, and he could now see that there was a cut on her arm.
Not that there was ever a chance that Audrey had stepped out on him, but Percy wondered sometimes if Lucy had any of his DNA.
Molly was a perfect mixture of her parents— a perfectionist, avid learner, and people-pleaser like her father, and a weepy, effortlessly kind animal-lover like her mother. Lucy, also an animal-lover, had inherited her mother’s blonde hair and interest in cooking, but could not have been more different from her father. She consistently sought new ways to break the rules her parents had set. She showed very little interest in any structured activity, and had a proclivity for accidentally reversing her parents’ magic.
And thus was the issue. Sure, Percy thought, I could just summon her to the ground or cushion her if she falls. Unless she decides she doesn’t want to be summoned or cushioned. Horrifying images swam through Percy’s head as he imagined the worst. What would Audrey have to say when she got home.
Audrey sometimes volunteered with the Magical Beast department of the Ministry. Since she’d been at Hogwarts, she’d shown a gift for working with animals and magical creatures, even earning top marks on her Care of Magical Creatures OWL. Once in a while, Audrey would go to help feed and care for the creatures; Percy sensed it was more an escape from the girls and the pressure of stay-at-home motherhood than a chance to see the creatures she enjoyed so much.
He mentally kicked himself for letting the girls out of his sight, knowing that he should have never trusted that a tea party would be just that given Lucy’s genetics. When Lucy was involved, nothing was sure aside from mischief. Of course, he wasn’t in danger of being chided by his wife— she’d offer him a knowing smile and reassure him that everything was alright, adding as she always did, “your guilt is more than enough punishment for the both of us.”
Molly came barreling around the corner holding his broom, her previously-manicured bob now sticking out in all directions, laced with spiderwebs. She panted and handed it to him. Percy shook his head. Even in this situation, even with his youngest precariously bobbing in their front yard, his oldest now crying about how she was scared the spiders would lay eggs in her hair, and the prospect of a somewhat disappointed wife when his children inevitably snitched their father’s irresponsibility to her…
...he didn’t think he could be any happier with his lot in life.
Kneeling once more to Molly’s level, Percy smoothed some of the wispy strands of her hair back into place and cast a quick cleaning charm to her head. “It will be just fine, Mols. Now, can you be a brave girl and wait here while I go up and get your sister?” Her lip was trembling and her eyes seemed like they could overflow at any second. Percy watched her jaw tighten as she nodded curtly.
“Good girl. I’ll be right back with your sister,” he reassured her.
This was one of the differences between himself and Molly at her age. While most of Percy’s tattling and worrying had been related to wanting to please his mother and father, Molly’s was mostly concerned for the well-being of herself and those around her. She consistently questioned the safety of traveling by floo, citing her parents’ own rule not to touch fire. After learning her cousin Victoire had a peanut allergy, she’d refused to allow her parents to keep any peanut butter in the house, for fear that she’d get her cousin sick if she’d eaten it before going to their house.
Fear had always been a staple in Percy’s life, but it had been less founded in others’ wellbeing and more about not rocking the boat. Sure, he was concerned for his daughter, but he was also concerned that Lucy might fly above the muggle-proof visual barrier above the village that allowed them to fly in their own backyard undetected. Such a slip would only trigger an inquiry at the Ministry and the preventable memory alteration of any muggle that might see her. He only recently became comfortable in his position at the Ministry, finally feeling that he’d transcended his legacy of being on the wrong side of the Second War for so long.
Percy looked up above the yard to find Lucy now hanging upside down from the broom. “Look, Daddy! I’m a sloth!” She giggled again as her father sighed.
“Wow Luce,” he said in mock amazement, “ but can you sit up on the top of the broom? Daddy is going to come fly with you.”
In one swift movement, Lucy did a few barrel rolls and squealed. “Yay, Daddy!”
Percy gulped, a noise echoed by his eldest beside him, and hoped that his daughter’s excitement for him to join her would preclude her from doing anything more dangerous.
No, fear wasn’t unfamiliar. Even now, as he mounted his broom, he worried that he’d be unable to fly. It had been… how long had it been? Have I even ridden it since before I left Hogwarts? He never considered himself a truly proficient flier, especially compared to his siblings. He had, after all, been the only Weasley who hadn’t played Gryffindor quidditch, a fact that he’d never live down.
Percy braced himself for disappointment, kicking into the ground with force. To his surprise, he rose fairly effortlessly, the broom humming in his hands as if it hadn’t been nearly ten years since he’d last ridden. I guess that’s why everyone says ‘it’s like riding a broom...
“Daddy!” Lucy cried, zipping past him, seemingly encouraging him to chase her. Please, Luce, no.
“A..are you having fun up here, Lucy?” He asked. C’mon Percy. Get your shit together. Don’t let them see your fear.
“It’s so fun, Daddy,” she said, circling him. “Can we play quidditch like Auntie Gin?” Of course she wants to be like her aunt, Percy thought. Ginny had a very similar spirit of recklessness as a child, emboldened by her twin brothers. Although, he supposed, her fearlessness got her a starting spot on the Harpies... and married to the most reckless wizard I know.
There were always trade-offs.
Percy’s careful nature, rule-following, and fear had its trade-offs too. He’d enjoyed a fairly successful life thus far, achieving twelve O.W.L.s and having risen quickly in the ranks at the ministry, leading to a well-paying job and a much more comfortable financial situation than he’d remembered from his childhood. That success had come at the cost of having less friends in school. A fractured relationship with his parents and siblings. A boring and somewhat meaningless job at the ministry.
But they were safe. He’d managed to start a family and keep them healthy, happy and safe. Well, aside from the wild-haired toddler currently balancing on an oversized broom WITH NO HANDS.
“LUCY!” he yelled, startling the four-year old. Her eyes grew wide and her bottom lip began to poke out, a sure fire sign that things were not going in the calm direction he’d hoped.
“Lucy you’re going to fall!” Molly cried, causing Lucy’s broom to lilt towards the corner of the roof.
“Molly, please let me be the parent?” Percy pleaded, parroting one of his wife’s most frequently- used phrases. He turned his attention back to the air. “Lucy, sweetie, please put both hands on the broom, okay?” Lucy slowly followed his suggestion, her lip still trembling.
Okay, time for a new approach.
“We’ve just got to learn the basics before we do any tricks,” he reasoned. “Maybe when your Aunt Ginny gets back from her season, she can show us all how to do some flips!” Percy injected his voice with an air of excitement, a far reach from how he actually felt about the thought of seeing his daughters cartwheel through the air.
The new strategy seemed to work. Lucy’s mouth curled into a huge grin, all sense of sadness erased from her plump features.
“Now,” Percy continued, not allowing any time for his momentum with Lucy to be lost. “Let me teach you how to turn and dive.” He approached Lucy with caution, her eyes still shining with excitement. “I’m going to come beside you, Lucy, and show you.”
She nodded enthusiastically, causing her broom to rock once more.
For fuck’s sake… just sit still, Lucy!
Percy pulled up hip-to-hip with Lucy. He quickly tried to calculate his next move for the best option, but in an uncharacteristically spontaneous movement, he twisted and heaved Lucy off of her broom by her armpits, placing her in front of him on his broom. A peal of laughter erupted from Lucy as she watched the broom she’d been riding fall to the ground.
Percy heard Molly gasp, and he had to agree. We are further up than I realized...
In a moment that could only be considered pure luck, Percy remembered riding the broom with his own father— which led him to quickly cast a wordless sticking charm between Lucy and himself. Now if I can just manage to get us to the ground without Lucy deciding to completely disregard our safety…
The only solution was to give in a little; after all, Lucy was only four and couldn’t quite understand the logic of why she couldn’t fly. Besides, any reasoning he could offer her would probably be negated by the fact that Percy was pretty sure Lucy had learned the trick from her half-French cousins, whose parents had been absolutely delighted to find out that their children could fly.
“Let’s take it for a spin, shall we?” Percy asked.
“Let’s go!” Lucy wailed, gripping both hands tightly to the broom in front of her.
As they floated slowly— oh so slowly— through the air, Percy repeated what little he remembered from his own flying education from his father and Madame Hooch. After a few minutes, Percy felt a bit more confident that he was, in fact, still capable of this skill the majority of his family had considered essential in school.
In Percy’s eyes, of course, flying and quidditch had just been a distraction from the real work at hand. How was he supposed to score well on his N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s if he was always out on the Quidditch pitch? How would he become Prefect and Head Boy with quidditch to distract him from his rigorous academic schedule?
“Why don’t you ask Bill?” Charlie once asked him, teasing Percy about his lack of interest in Quidditch. Bill, after all, had proven to be a typical first, type-A child— not only becoming Prefect and Head Boy, but also playing Chaser for Gryffindor and earning a record twelve ‘Outstanding’ O.W.L.s in his seventh year; all culminating in an exciting and prestigious career as a code-breaker for Gringotts.
And then there was Charlie. Never an outstanding student per se, but an excellent quidditch player and a charmer at that. He’d managed his entire childhood to weasel out of any trouble he might find himself in. When Charlie announced to the family that he would be moving to Romania to work with dragons, a young Percy was sure that his mother would go spare at the thought, but Charlie managed to compliment, assuage, and most likely lie himself into a blessing from his mother. She’d done nothing but brag about her dragonologist son ever since.
Ron had, of course, been a dark horse for his parents’ favorite. No one ever imagined that the gangly, awkward child would turn out to be an Auror or an Order of Merlin: First Class by joining up with the fucking savior of the Wizarding World. Similarly, his sister had gone and married Harry and become a successful professional quidditch player, only solidifying herself more at the top of his parent’s imaginary list by being the only girl.
Undeniably, if there were favorites (which Percy mostly knew wasn’t true), Fred and George would win. Aside from their success and contribution to their parents’ Gringotts vault, there was no argument to be made that the only dead member of their family and his perpetually-grieving twin wouldn’t be the most favored.
Of course, Percy knew this was a somewhat unfair assessment, and morbid at that. However, he’d never exactly been proven wrong, had he? He too, like his brother Bill, had become Prefect and Head Boy, scoring nearly as well on his twelve O.W.L.s. He’d managed to work at the ministry alongside his father (despite his self-admitted fuck-ups during Fudge and Thicknesse’s time as the Ministers). He’d made friends with people that benefited his father’s department and who sent his mother nice cards and gifts for Christmas.
Percy had even managed to stay out of trouble most of his life, especially compared to danger-obsessed Bill, rebellious Charlie, the mischievous twins, foolhardy Ron, or naïve Ginny. Somehow, even before Ginny ever played Quidditch and before that time in the Ministry, Percy just got the feeling that he’d never measure up, no matter how hard he tried.
This was something his wife had worked on with him. She, herself, was an only child, and relished in the time she got with his large family. Where only-child Hermione was often overwhelmed by the sheer number of people that could fit in the Burrow on holidays, Audrey was delighted by the endless hugs, conversations, and entertainment the Weasleys provided.
Their first Christmas together before their marriage, Percy had been on edge, concerned that his family’s apathy for him would extend to his girlfriend, who at the time was pregnant with Molly. He and Audrey had plans to marry already, but the prospect of his mother finding out about their slip up and banning them from further family functions was terrifying.
That night after they’d opened gifts, they returned to Percy’s flat in London stuffed to the gills with hearty food.
“I think it went well,” Audrey said, shrugging her coat off for Percy to hang on the hook. “I know you were worried, but I really enjoyed myself,” she assured him with a smile.
Audrey always managed to do that, seeing right through his anxiety and quelling his fears as if she were an occlumens. She always found the right thing to say— but never said anything untrue or just what she thought Percy wanted to hear.
“You’re probably going to be mad that I’m saying this,” she said, flexing that intuition of hers, “but I really don’t know how you don’t see how much your parents love you.”
Percy turned abruptly to face her, surprised to hear this assessment.
“I’m not sure how you could tell,” he snorted, “with all the drunkenness and pure noise.” He untied his shoes and placed them neatly by the door.
Audrey tilted her head, glowering at him. “Perhaps because all you were thinking about was how loud and drunk everyone was, and ignored all the sweet things they were saying.”
There it was, a look he was all-too-familiar with: disappointment.
“Even Fleur had something nice to say,” Audrey continued, slipping her own shoes off next to Percy’s. “Honestly, I think she’s delightful.”
Of course she did, thought Percy . Audrey’s a Hufflepuff.
“And before you say it, it’s not because I’m a Hufflepuff. I’ll admit she’s a bit haughty, but she really does seem to want to get to know the family better — you included.” Audrey walked to the sofa and let herself down with a thump. Percy followed her, hoping that he hadn’t ruined what Audrey considered such a successful evening.
He sat next to her and watched her rub the subtle swell of her belly. “You know,” she said, reaching for his hand, “I never had siblings. Or cousins. And this little babe,” she said, placing his hand on her abdomen, “is going to have loads. I’m so excited to see her grow up and play and experience all the love I feel when I’m with your family.”
Tears flooded Percy’s eyes and he focused on trying to keep them from slipping down his cheeks. Audrey had other plans.
Living his chin upwards, Audrey met eyes with Percy. “Perce, I love you. Your family loves you. I know it hasn’t been easy and I know you blame yourself for things beyond your ability to stop.” Percy felt a rogue tear escape from his right eye.
“But this is the time. You have to forgive yourself for your mistakes. Your family certainly has.” She looked down at their joined hands on her belly, allowing her own tears to fall there as she tilted her head down. “And we have the responsibility to show this little one all the love in the world… something you won’t be able to do if you can’t love yourself.”
Percy could hardly believe that he’d slipped once more into his own self-doubt and loathing. After years of renewed relationships, family gatherings, and reassurance from any and every Weasley, there should have been no confusion: Percy was loved. Most of all by the wild-haired child that sat in front of him on the broom.
Percy lowered them to the ground slowly, hoping their laps and dives had satisfied Lucy. When his feet touched the ground, he unstuck them, releasing Lucy to hop off the broom and beam at him.
“Please, can we do it again, Daddy?!” she cried.
“Perhaps,” Percy replied, “but maybe let’s make a trip to see Aunt Ginny to get your own brooms and a real lesson.” Both girls erupted in cheers, enveloping their dad in tight hugs.
____________
“I think they’re finally asleep,” Audrey whispered, tiptoeing down the steps into the living room. Percy met her at the foot of the stairs with a glass of wine.
“How much trouble am I in?” he asked, sure that the precocious girls had sold him out when rehashing the day’s activities with their mother.
Audrey smiled and took a sip of her wine. “That depends on how much child-size brooms are.” The corner of her smile twitched, soon giving way to laughter.
Percy relaxed somewhat at this, glad that his worry had been for naught.
Audrey picked up on his relief instantaneously. “I know I can be a bit naggy at times,” she said, sticking her tongue out as Percy raised his eyebrows at her admission. “However,” she continued, “we both know Lucy is going to do whatever she can so make a mess or get herself in a bind. I’m just glad Fred and Roxanne weren’t over this time to make everything ten times worse.”
Laughing, Percy recalled the twins somehow managing to explode a shepherd’s pie and set their oven on fire, which had prompted Lucy to accidentally negate her father’s fire-dampening spell while laughing (quite maniacally, at that).
“Yes,” Percy agreed. “This was definitely a preferable outcome.” He took a sip from his own glass and slipped an arm around his wife’s waist. “As for the brooms, I have no idea how much they cost. I only ever used a hand-me-down broom from Charlie.”
Audrey appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Perhaps we can parlay with the Potters and convince them to buy the brooms,” she said. “After all, Gin is an industry insider after all.”
Percy squeezed his wife’s waist and placed a kiss on her temple. Her golden-blonde hair had begun greying slightly, no doubt in part owed to their daughters’ constant proclivity towards hijinks. However, the corners of her eyes and mouth displayed his most favorite of her features: wrinkles earned from years of smiling and laughing with him. There was no more beautiful sight than his wife enrapt with joy.
“That’s a great idea,” Percy said, punctuating with a kiss. “I’m glad I listen to you.”