Gadling [HP; Percy Weasley]
Sep. 16th, 2018 09:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schizoauthoress_libraryTitle: Gadling
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: G
Spoilers: set during "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix"
Warnings: mentions of family estrangement
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 700
Summary: Percy Weasley usually eats alone. Today, a stray shows up.
Note: There's more to this. But I wanted to post this first part since I'm so far behind in my writing goals lately.
Word of the Day: zeugma, noun:
The use of a word to modify or govern two or more words when it is appropriate to only one of them or is appropriate to each but in a different way, as in to wage war and peace or On his fishing trip, he caught three trout and a cold.
Gadling
Percy Weasley is in the habit of taking his lunch alone. Others in the office will group up and socialize, but Percy likes eating alone. He can be quiet, planning out what he'll do when he has free time outside his job.
He's not a Ministry automaton. No matter what his younger siblings say.
There's probably a lot the other Weasleys say about Percy these days that ought be taking with a grain of salt. He's betrayed their values, after all -- and like any line of pureblood wizards, the Weasleys are exceptional at holding grudges.
Percy refuses to forgive first.
****
Percy stashes his robe in his messenger bag. Underneath, he wears an outfit that won't stand out in Muggle London.
He discovered early in his career with the Ministry of Magic that Wizarding London is comparatively tiny, and cramped with too many magical folk on lunchbreak. There are no quiet corners in the cafes that cater to witches and wizards. Percy prefers claiming a bench in a Muggle park. Nobody bothers him then.
It's nice, sometimes, to blend in. It's nice that nobody in the park thinks "Weasley" and makes judgements upon seeing him.
Percy's just another young professional here.
****
No surprises for lunch, just a ham sandwich.
Percy's gotten very good at making sandwiches since moving out of his parents' home. More complex dishes elude him, even with magic, and Percy is far too thrifty to justify -- to himself -- the cost of eating out very often.
He misses his mum's cooking, but not enough to swallow his pride. He's doing just fine.
He misses a lot about his parents' house since walking out -- his parents themselves, to name two -- and yet... he's actually happy living on his own. His family's absence in his life gets less sharp with time.
****
What doesn't lose its edge -- what he tries not to dwell upon -- are memories of the times Percy felt mocked or excluded by the family. He remembers that when he feels lonely, and it keeps him from crawling back to the Burrow.
Merlin knows he wasn't blameless -- with his siblings especially, Percy retaliated with superiority and sarcasm. If he didn't measure up to them, he'd use a completely different metric of success.
Sometimes he worries his family never loved him -- that there was nothing to love -- but Penelope tells him often those thoughts were groundless. He tries to believe her.
****
Percy picks up the second half of his sandwich, and hears a low bark. He looks up to see a big black dog sitting close to the bench. Startled, Percy rears back as he sits up, cautious of the unfamiliar animal.
The dog regards him with calm dark eyes, making no move save the lolling of its tongue as it pants. Percy stares.
It's only when his gaze flicks toward the sandwich that the dog reacts, ears perking up. Percy raises an eyebrow; the dog wags its tail as if in response.
Percy tries to sound severe, "Dream on, pooch."
****
The dog heaves a deep, oddly human-sounding sigh at that. Percy tries, and fails, to stifle a chuckle.
He's not heartless. When the dog whines piteously, trying to look cute by wagging its tail, Percy relents. He plucks out the lettuce leaf and tears the remaining triangle of bread, ham, and cheese in half.
The dog perks up, watching until Percy tosses the food in the dog's direction. Then the dog jumps to catch the sandwich fragment, gulping it down.
Percy takes a bite out of what's left, considers the dog again, then surrenders even that remaining piece of sandwich.
****
The dog stops to look up at him, just briefly, before eating that piece more slowly.
"Good boy," Percy says. It's a guess, because he hasn't -- ahem -- peeked to confirm.
The dog barks happily, tail wagging with yet more enthusiasm.
"Sorry," Percy apologizes, spreading his empty hands, "That's all I've got today." Moments later Percy yelps with surprise when the dog licks one of his hands, making it a slobbery mess. Percy grumbles sarcastically, "You're welcome," as he wipes off on a trouser leg.
The dog looks for all the world like he might laugh, but Percy knows that's impossible.
*-*-*-*-*
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: G
Spoilers: set during "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix"
Warnings: mentions of family estrangement
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 700
Summary: Percy Weasley usually eats alone. Today, a stray shows up.
Note: There's more to this. But I wanted to post this first part since I'm so far behind in my writing goals lately.
Word of the Day: zeugma, noun:
The use of a word to modify or govern two or more words when it is appropriate to only one of them or is appropriate to each but in a different way, as in to wage war and peace or On his fishing trip, he caught three trout and a cold.
Gadling
Percy Weasley is in the habit of taking his lunch alone. Others in the office will group up and socialize, but Percy likes eating alone. He can be quiet, planning out what he'll do when he has free time outside his job.
He's not a Ministry automaton. No matter what his younger siblings say.
There's probably a lot the other Weasleys say about Percy these days that ought be taking with a grain of salt. He's betrayed their values, after all -- and like any line of pureblood wizards, the Weasleys are exceptional at holding grudges.
Percy refuses to forgive first.
****
Percy stashes his robe in his messenger bag. Underneath, he wears an outfit that won't stand out in Muggle London.
He discovered early in his career with the Ministry of Magic that Wizarding London is comparatively tiny, and cramped with too many magical folk on lunchbreak. There are no quiet corners in the cafes that cater to witches and wizards. Percy prefers claiming a bench in a Muggle park. Nobody bothers him then.
It's nice, sometimes, to blend in. It's nice that nobody in the park thinks "Weasley" and makes judgements upon seeing him.
Percy's just another young professional here.
****
No surprises for lunch, just a ham sandwich.
Percy's gotten very good at making sandwiches since moving out of his parents' home. More complex dishes elude him, even with magic, and Percy is far too thrifty to justify -- to himself -- the cost of eating out very often.
He misses his mum's cooking, but not enough to swallow his pride. He's doing just fine.
He misses a lot about his parents' house since walking out -- his parents themselves, to name two -- and yet... he's actually happy living on his own. His family's absence in his life gets less sharp with time.
****
What doesn't lose its edge -- what he tries not to dwell upon -- are memories of the times Percy felt mocked or excluded by the family. He remembers that when he feels lonely, and it keeps him from crawling back to the Burrow.
Merlin knows he wasn't blameless -- with his siblings especially, Percy retaliated with superiority and sarcasm. If he didn't measure up to them, he'd use a completely different metric of success.
Sometimes he worries his family never loved him -- that there was nothing to love -- but Penelope tells him often those thoughts were groundless. He tries to believe her.
****
Percy picks up the second half of his sandwich, and hears a low bark. He looks up to see a big black dog sitting close to the bench. Startled, Percy rears back as he sits up, cautious of the unfamiliar animal.
The dog regards him with calm dark eyes, making no move save the lolling of its tongue as it pants. Percy stares.
It's only when his gaze flicks toward the sandwich that the dog reacts, ears perking up. Percy raises an eyebrow; the dog wags its tail as if in response.
Percy tries to sound severe, "Dream on, pooch."
****
The dog heaves a deep, oddly human-sounding sigh at that. Percy tries, and fails, to stifle a chuckle.
He's not heartless. When the dog whines piteously, trying to look cute by wagging its tail, Percy relents. He plucks out the lettuce leaf and tears the remaining triangle of bread, ham, and cheese in half.
The dog perks up, watching until Percy tosses the food in the dog's direction. Then the dog jumps to catch the sandwich fragment, gulping it down.
Percy takes a bite out of what's left, considers the dog again, then surrenders even that remaining piece of sandwich.
****
The dog stops to look up at him, just briefly, before eating that piece more slowly.
"Good boy," Percy says. It's a guess, because he hasn't -- ahem -- peeked to confirm.
The dog barks happily, tail wagging with yet more enthusiasm.
"Sorry," Percy apologizes, spreading his empty hands, "That's all I've got today." Moments later Percy yelps with surprise when the dog licks one of his hands, making it a slobbery mess. Percy grumbles sarcastically, "You're welcome," as he wipes off on a trouser leg.
The dog looks for all the world like he might laugh, but Percy knows that's impossible.
*-*-*-*-*
