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The Weight of Living	By : percyplusoliver Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Percy/Oliver Views: 4738 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This can also be found at AO3. I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters. I am not making any money from this story. I just do this for kicks :) Note: This begins around HBP-era

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
Author Note: SO SORRY about the delay!! Real life got in the way, and then NaNoWriMo happened (which will be posted soon as well). I'm nearly finished with the whole fic; I should have the whole thing done by the end of January at the latest!
***
They arrived in the Scottish Highlands, near Hogwarts, on the afternoon of April 30. Oliver wanted to check on his parents, and Percy wanted to surreptitiously check that his youngest sibling was still in one piece. There was something unusual in the air. Neither Percy nor Oliver could place what it was, though. It just felt...strange. The fog hung low over the hills and the air smelt of smoke. That was definitely unusual, Percy thought, slightly concerned, a frown crossing his face.
“Let’s get a bit closer,” Oliver whispered, looking worried. Percy nodded, following close behind.
As they approached the castle, Percy was shocked – no, horrified – by what he saw. Gone were the luscious gardens; in their place were blackened bushes and trees. The grounds no longer looked inviting; instead, it looked positively menacing, as if daring visitors to approach. Percy shuddered unconsciously. This wasn’t the Hogwarts he had known. He was suddenly very worried for his sister. If it was this grim on the outside, what could it possibly be like on the inside?
He looked over at Oliver. His mouth was wide open and his eyes were even wider. He seemed to be just as horrified.
“What happened here?” Oliver breathed. “It’s so...” He couldn’t find the right words. Nothing could describe the feeling of foreboding this gave him.
“Awful? Wretched? Horrible? Depressing?” Percy supplied with a grimace. “I knew the Ministry – and by extension the Death Eaters – had a hand in the goings-on at Hogwarts, but I had no idea to what extent.” His frown deepened. “If I had known...”
“You couldn’t possibly have,” Oliver said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, though he was secretly slightly annoyed. If Percy had known, why hadn’t he at least said something? But who would he have told? A rational voice piped up. The Ministry is full of Death Eaters and Death Eater sympathisers. He would have been sent straight to Azkaban – or killed. Oliver shuddered at the thought. He had come so close to losing Percy on so many occasions – now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past. They had to focus on what was in front of them, which looked like it would take their full attention.
He took Percy’s hand as he inched slightly closer to the castle. He felt cold all over – Dementors. Looking up, he saw the familiar black-cloaked figures surrounding the towers.
“I don’t know if I can, Perce,” Oliver said in a shaky voice, ashamed. The Dementors at his hearing had been very nearly too much for him to handle. He shivered, feeling his blood run cold. He was supposed to be the strong one, wasn’t he? And here he was, frightened as a child, clutching Percy’s hand as if he might float away. He was mortified.
“Ouch, Oliver, you’re hurting me,” Percy complained. “Don’t squeeze so hard.”
Percy couldn’t possibly know how much the Dementors had affected him, could he? Oliver thought not. If he did, he would be more forgiving.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, loosening his grip.
“Look,” Percy whispered. A hooded figure was coming down the path toward them. They quickly ducked behind a large shrub, disappearing out of sight just as the figure reached where they had been standing. Oliver gasped. It was Professor McGonagall. She looked much older than Oliver remembered.
“Professor!” he heard Percy hiss.
She turned her head, looked directly at them, and furrowed her brow. Percy yanked Oliver out of the bushes and in front of Professor McGonagall.
“Mr. Weasley! Mr. Wood!” she exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here?”
They both began speaking at once.
“My sister...”
“My parents...”
“Your sister, although a bit worse for wear, is fine, Mr. Weasley,” said McGonagall. “Unfortunately, Mr. Wood, I am unable to offer you any information on your parents.”
“A bit worse for wear?” Percy asked, mildly horrified. “What do you mean, Professor?”
“Mr. Weasley, you are aware of the situation at Hogwarts, are you not?”
Percy shook his head.
“Shame. I had thought, seeing that you work – worked? - for the Ministry, you would be informed.” Professor McGonagall paused briefly. “The long and short of it, gentlemen, is that Death Eaters are now running the school. Your sister, Mr. Weasley, along with Mr. Longbottom, Miss Lovegood, Mr. Finnegan, and others, has been deliberately disobeying them.”
Percy rolled his eyes. Of course Ginny would do that. Of course she would disobey direct orders without regard to her own safety.
“She’s very brave, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall snapped. “You might not think so – you were always more interested in following the rules than what was right – so I don’t expect you to understand.”
Percy flushed a deep crimson, embarrassed. She was right, of course; it just stung to have someone he respected point it out.
“It’s not safe for you two here,” Professor McGonagall continued.
Oliver seemed to find his voice, and spoke up. “If the Death Eaters have taken over the school, why are you leaving, Professor?”
“I’m not leaving, Mr. Wood,” said Professor McGonagall, exasperated. “I am simply taking an evening constitutional.” She winked at them and gestured with her head, indicating they should follow her.
Percy raised an eyebrow at Oliver, who nodded briefly in agreement.
“Wait a moment,” Professor McGonagall said. “Wait until I’ve reached the crest of the hill, and then follow me.”
Percy and Oliver both nodded, and stepped back into the shrubs to wait.
***
It turned out that McGonagall was leading them into Hogsmeade via a little-used path. They ended up near the Hog’s Head, a place Oliver was very familiar with. He had become friendly – or as friendly as one could be – with the proprietor. Oliver had certainly appreciated Aberforth supplying him with enough Firewhisky to drown a hippogriff, and especially appreciated him not passing the information on to his brother.
Upon entering, McGonagall nodded curtly to Aberforth and led Percy and Oliver into a side room.
“You’ll be safe here,” she said, glancing between the two men almost curiously. “As long as you don’t do anything stupid.”
“What do you mean by that?” Percy replied hotly. He glared at Professor McGonagall.
“You know precisely what I mean, Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall responded crisply. “The Death Eaters are not playing. This is not a schoolyard game.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “As I said before, you are not your sister. You are – and always have been – more concerned with following the rules than doing what is right.”
Percy looked at Oliver, whose face was blank.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Professor,” Oliver said suddenly. “I was about to be sent to Azkaban – casualty of the Muggle-born Registration Commission – and Percy broke me out of prison. From what I’ve heard, he also fudged Muggleborns’ genetic records in order to save their lives. So no, Percy is not more concerned with following the rules than doing what’s right.” He glared at her. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going back up to Hogwarts. You may not have faith in Percy, but I do.” Oliver frowned at McGonagall, who looked taken aback. Oliver was certain that almost no one ever contradicted her. He wouldn’t let anyone put Percy down. Not anymore. That had happened all too often when they were younger, and he had stood by, when he (hypothetically) had the power to make it stop as one of the more popular students.
No matter, Oliver thought. That’s ancient history.
“Come on, Perce,” Oliver said, his glare at McGonagall intensifying. He took Percy’s hand in his, and they left the Hog’s Head, leaving a thoroughly perplexed Minerva McGonagall in their wake.
***
Back at Hogwarts, night had fallen. The charred foliage made the castle look intimidating, and both men shivered as they walked up the path past Hagrid’s hut.
"This isn’t right,” Oliver said in a low voice, gripping Percy’s hand tightly.
Percy nodded.
“No school should be like this. Something has to be done,” Oliver added fervently.
Percy rolled his eyes. “And what do you propose that we do about it? We’re just two people.”
Oliver sighed, a deep, put-upon sigh. “You know, Perce, for being so clever, sometimes you can really be an idiot. There’s not just the two of us. Remember what McGonagall said? About Ginny and the others? That’s at least six, and it’s a damned good start.”
Percy looked sceptical, so Oliver continued. “Nothing ever got done by people hesitating, Perce. Make up your mind: do you want to make a difference, or do you want to hide in the shadows?”
***
In the end, Percy decided that Oliver was right: it was time for him to emerge from the shadows; to stop blindly following the rules and instead do what was right, even if it was hard. That night, the two of them crept down to the Quidditch pitch and slept under the stands. It was chilly, but at least they weren’t out in the open. It wasn’t the safest place – that probably would have been the Hog’s Head – but it would do.
They were both on edge all night. Neither slept very much, every noise stirring them out of an uneasy sleep. They huddled together for warmth and out of fear. What if they were caught? What would happen to them then? Oliver would almost certainly be sent to Azkaban, and Percy...well, neither of them knew. Neither of them wanted to think about getting caught. It was too horrific an idea to even consider.
When the sun rose, the fog still hadn’t lifted, giving the area an eerie feeling. Oliver woke first, feeling his body protest at the less than ideal sleeping conditions. He yawned, and then stretched. He was exhausted and sore. He glanced over at Percy, who was twitching in his sleep.
“Perce?” Oliver whispered. “Perce, love, it’s time to wake up.” He shook Percy’s shoulder gently.
“Mmmmmgggghhhh.”
“Wake up.”
“Ugh.”
“We can’t stay here. It was okay in the dark, but now that the sun is rising, we have to find a better place. Somewhere students won’t go.”
Percy opened his eyes reluctantly. He had slept very little and very badly, and had just fallen into a deep sleep when Oliver had shaken him awake. “But I’m so tired,” he whined. “Can’t I sleep just one more hour?”
“No.”
“30 minutes?”
“No.”
“15 minutes?”
“No.”
“5 minutes?”
“No.”
“An hour?”
Oliver laughed. Percy’s negotiation skills were clearly lacking first thing in the morning.
“Come on, slow coach,” Oliver coaxed. “If you get up now, I’ll get you up later.” He winked at Percy.
That got Percy moving. He sat up, rubbed his sleep-encrusted eyes, and yawned hugely. “I’m exhausted,” he said. “I slept terribly.”
“You and me both,” Oliver agreed, running his fingers through Percy’s messy hair. “But we have to get moving’ find a place where we won’t be spotted.”
“I know the perfect place,” Percy said. “I used to go there to study on sunny days.” He stretched and yawned again. “I’ll show you.” Standing up, he reached for Oliver’s hand and pulled him up. “Come on.”
***
Nearly an hour later, after taking what seemed to be an extremely scenic walk, they arrived in a shady clearing. Oliver had had no idea that it existed...but then, when had he ever been one to go out of his way to revise?
“This was my little sanctuary,” Percy said quietly. “I had peace and quiet; I could revise; and my siblings...” he trailed off, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.
Oliver nodded. He couldn’t empathise with Percy, of course; they had had vastly different experiences as students, but he could attempt to sympathise. He put an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders and pulled him close.
“For what it’s worth,” Oliver said, “it’s a nice little place. It’s very relaxing.”

Percy smiled, his cheeks pink with pride. “It served its purpose.” He paused. “And I’m sure we’ll be safe here for the time being.”
“Well then,” Oliver said, a mischievous glint in his eye, “I believe I promised you something. Do you want it now or later?”
Percy raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think I would turn you down?”
“That’s what I thought,” Oliver replied as he leaned in and planted a kiss on Percy’s lips.
Oliver kissed Percy passionately and Percy sighed. He couldn’t get enough of Oliver. He pulled Oliver close, wanting to touch every inch of him, to reacquaint himself with Oliver’s muscular body. He slid a hand under the waistband of Oliver’s trousers, making Oliver shiver.
“Perce,” Oliver breathed.
Before Percy could respond, he heard a rustling in the bushes behind them. He stopped abruptly and pulled his hand out of Oliver’s trousers. Oliver whimpered in protest.
“Shhh!” Percy whispered, putting a finger to Oliver’s lips. “Listen!” He leaned closer to the noise, motioning for Oliver to do the same. Oliver frowned but obeyed. The rustling grew closer and louder, until it was mere inches away. They both sat stock-still, afraid of being discovered.
Seconds later, Luna Lovegood burst into their clearing. She looked around and, seeing Percy and Oliver, cocked her head interestedly. “You’re a Weasley, aren’t you?” she asked Percy curiously, staring dreamily at him.
Percy nodded. “Red hair give it away?” he asked, rolling his eyes. Oliver snorted. He wouldn’t normally be so caustic, but she had interrupted them, and he was annoyed.
She didn’t seem to notice. “And you,” she said, pointing to Oliver, “were the Gryffindor Quidditch captain.” Oliver nodded. This girl certainly has a knack for stating the obvious, Oliver thought.
“You two left school years ago,” Luna continued, as if neither of them were aware. “What are you doing back here?” She stared at the two of them for a length of time that made both of them extremely uncomfortable.
Percy and Oliver exchanged glances. Was it worth it to come up with a lie? Oliver shook his head almost imperceptibly. Percy took that to mean that he oughtn’t lie; that he ought to just tell the truth.
“I work for the Ministry,” Percy said, an air of pompousness creeping into his voice, “and I’ve only just recently learnt about the Death Eaters in the school. They’ve been taking over the Ministry, but I didn’t know they were at Hogwarts, too.” He paused, frowning. “So we’ve – I’ve – come here to check on my sister. Ginny,” he added lamely.
Luna nodded sagely. “She’s been fighting the Death Eaters here, you know,” she said matter-of-factly. “And so have I. And the rest of Dumbledore’s Army.” She said this as if she expected them to know what she was talking about. Their confused expressions showed otherwise.
“What are you on about?” Oliver asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.
“Dumbledore’s Army, of course,” Luna repeated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Harry formed it two years ago to resist Umbridge. Now we’re fighting the Death Eaters in the school.”
Percy felt his stomach drop. His little sister, fighting Death Eaters? She wasn’t even fully qualified! He didn’t feel he was qualified to fight Death Eaters, and he had been out of school for four years!
“You’re worried,” Luna said serenely. “Ginny is a talented witch. She’s gotten injured, of course – the Death Eaters are very strong – but her hexes are brilliant. You should be very proud of your sister.”
Percy would decide that after he saw her – if she was scarred beyond recognition, he planned to forbid her from returning to Hogwarts. As if she would listen, he thought, rolling his eyes internally.
“I reckon Neville’s about reached the Hog’s Head,” Luna continued. Percy realised she must have been talking while he had been considering his sister’s well-being.
“Why?” Oliver asked, now interested.
“Aberforth said it was important,” she answered. With that, she pushed past them, further into the glade. Oliver looked after her curiously. “What an unusual girl,” he said slowly. “I can’t recall ever having met her.”
“Nor can I,” Percy admitted. He thought he remembered Ginny mentioning her once or twice, but that was it. “But she’s confirmed what McGonagall told us – the Death Eaters have taken over the castle, and a group of students, including my sister, are fighting them.” He frowned, worried.
“You want to check on her now, don’t you?” asked Oliver, placing a comforting hand on Percy’s shoulder.
Percy nodded gratefully. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
Oliver shook his head. “I’d like to see what’s become of the school.”
“Thank you,” Percy said with a smile. He stood up and pulled Oliver along with him.
Oliver grinned. “Let’s go, then.” He pushed through the bushes towards the path that led to the castle. He moved quickly and purposefully, ducking behind shrubs whenever he heard footsteps. Once they had to hide for nearly 30 minutes due to an impromptu conversation between two people neither Oliver nor Percy recognised. They couldn’t hear the conversation, unfortunately, though they caught a few words here and there, none of which gave them any useful information.
Finally the pair went their separate ways, and Oliver and Percy shared a relieved look. Taking Percy’s hand, Oliver continued up the path to the castle. They weren’t far away now.
***
They finally reached the castle in the late afternoon. Despite the time and the season, it was as dark as night. They shared a nervous look. This couldn’t be good.
It was Oliver who finally made the move to enter the castle, after what felt like an eternity of staring at the charred facade. What if the inside was the same? What if it was even worse? Neither of them wanted to imagine that possibility.
The dank smell hit them as soon as they walked through the heavy door. It never used to smell like mouldy cellar. Oliver shuddered. He was having unpleasant flashbacks to his recent imprisonment. What had happened to the house-elves? Why weren’t they taking care of the castle anymore?
Suddenly they heard footsteps. Heavy footsteps accompanied by what sounded like swirling robes.
“Snape!” Percy hissed, dragging Oliver behind a statue of Bartemius the Baleful. “Quiet!” He held his hand over Oliver’s mouth as the footsteps got closer, louder, more purposeful. Percy held his breath. They couldn’t be discovered; they weren’t supposed to be here! He tried to take in a silent breath and let it out slowly, but it made his nose tickle and he felt a sneeze coming on. Shit, he thought, terrified. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!
They watched as Snape looked around, seemingly aware of their presence. He seemed to consider checking behind the statues in the entry hallway, but a loud BANG!! from the Great Hall grabbed his attention and he hurried away, long robes swirling behind him.
Percy clapped his hand over his mouth and nose right before a very violent sneeze escaped.
“Shhh,” Oliver scolded. “You’ll get us caught!”
Percy made a face. “Let’s go see what that noise was,” he suggested. He raised a questioning eyebrow at Oliver and started pulling him towards the Great Hall.
While nervous, Oliver was also curious about what was happening. Nothing felt right to him. It all felt a little...off. Uncomfortable, and a little frightening. Like something dangerous was bubbling just under the surface.
Percy darted down the hall, dragging Oliver with him. “Hurry up!” he said urgently. “I want to see what’s happening!”
Oliver’s pace quickened to match Percy’s and they reached the Great Hall moments later. The door was open a crack, and they peered in. What they saw shocked them.
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The Weight of Living