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Honey and Saliva	By : indira Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2029 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: Honey and Saliva
Author: Indira Neill
Pairings: HarryxRon, Percy+Penelope, OliverxPercy and MarcusxPercy
Comment: FEAR THE MOTIVE. This chapter does not contain the motive, but I'm getting damn near close to it I promise. I wrote this while listening to the Japanese band Due le Quartz. I don't like them much but they give a 'slightly but not too crazy' edge to the writing I think. Fitting considering Percy is slowly but surely losing his mind :D

Oh, and for the record, I'm atheist.

--

Penelope, Penelope my sweet little Penny. Find a penny pick it up, hope to god you don't get fucked. Round and round the carousel goes where it stops only the devil knows. Carousels in the sky, let the sleeping bastards lie.

--

I don't know even how I ended up in Penny's flat. One moment I was in the Burrow and the next I was here. In a stereotypical world I'd be soaking wet and freezing to death but It's actually rather warm out. You can't always get your tragedy done the right and proper way, but you have to make due with what you're given. If I were straight I'd fall in love with Penny instantly and we'd have lots of pretty little uptight children striving for that golden ring without enjoying a damn second of the ride. When all you think about is the ring, nothing else matters, you forget about the carousel.

It was plain instinct to come here first though. Harry is the one I need to talk to right now, to set my little plot into motion.

Motions, this all started with motions. Who would have thought one kiss would lead to one death? That's all that started this, one little kiss, more then I could have ever hoped for in my entire life. I wanted one thing and received the world for my troubles. But this is what I asked for, ask and you shall receive it would seem.

I wonder what my next motion will lead to. Each moment in itself is a watershed. There is no going back in time, even the cleverness of magic cannot fool fate. There is no climax to life because there is no plotline to it. We are just the sum of our motions. I am just one part of a greater whole I will never understand and no matter how much I flail and how much I try I can never change what has already been done. Oliver and I have already fallen in love, Ron has already killed Oliver, Flint has already shared my bed, I have already become a masochist. All these things can never be taken back because they have already occurred. So what do I hope to accomplish in meeting Ron? What can possibly be done?

Because a motion started this, a motion brought it to a climax, and now a motion will bring it to an end. This isn't a novel, it's not a story, it's not fiction, this is my fucking life and it's about time I took control of it. I cannot wait for fate because it is fate that has brought me to this point. A point I hate reaching but love for living. I will never wish for death. I am stronger then death I can beat it because Oliver couldn't. Oliver, are you listening now? Look at the child we have given birth to. Look at my obsession, my desire, look at me and see what we've created. Only our perfect love could create something so terrifying. Only we could create the man I am today.

Oh god, what's wrong with me.

I've begun shaking all over again and Penny has dropped the tea tray she went to retrieve from the kitchen. She's by my side as she was at Oliver's funeral. Without even looking at her I know there are tears in her eyes. She worries terribly for me, I'm beginning to worry about myself.

"Percy, oh God."

Her slender arms wrap around my shoulders trying to calm me, trying to stop the shaking that I have no control over. Her hair smells like coconut and her arms like vanilla. She is so utterly Muggle in appearance and demeanor. Even after all her years at Hogwarts she still maintained a strong idea of who she is. And who she is happens to be a girl from London who likes watching people move in streams across the crowded streets from the window in her flat. She told me about it once. How when she was a little girl she would just watch the people move like insects across the ground below from her parent's balcony. And then when we lived together that first year out of school and we didn't have a balcony, she would sit on the edge of the window and just watch the people. Sometimes she would cry. I would sit on the sofa and shake and she would just cry and cry. She's a little disturbed as well. Actually, I think I made her disturbed. She was a sweet normal little girl until I took it upon myself to invade her sweet pretty little world.

I would give the world to stop shaking now, to be the one to dry Penny's tears and tell her everything is going to be alright. But that would never work, because she's not the one with the problem. I need to tell myself that everything will be alright. I need to be able to lie to myself.

Slowly I begin to calm now and my shake is nothing more then a twitch. She lets go of me and raises one of her hands covered in her white dress shirt to wipe her eyes. The tears are gone before I can utter a note of reassurance. A smile spreads across her porcelain face, god I want to break her like the doll she is.

It's odd, I'm the only one in my family that says things like 'oh god' or 'Christ's sake' or anything like that. Naturally, none of them have a concept really of God. The reason we get Christmas holidays and the like off are because of Muggle-borns and half bloods and such. They're used to getting Christmas off and they have a sense of God. It's something purely Muggle we never question but we don't quite understand. And my family, we're so deeply Wizarding that any trace of God we may have had was lost long ago. Christmas is a time for gifts and snow and warm fires and home. It's not about the birth of our savior. Yet another thing my family will never know about me. I've found God and I pity the fact they have not.

I mean, I don't have any sort of set faith. It's hard to when you don't have anyone to guide you. But I love Muggle literature, I always have. When I read the Scarlet Letter, I was twelve maybe. I didn't understand a lot of it but I wanted to know God. I felt the weight of sin. True, I didn't understand much of it but it was a start. The irony of scarlet and gold, it was enough to get me hooked on it.

After Oliver died I started wearing a cross. The only time I took it off was when I was with Marcus. He wouldn't understand it, he would dirty everything it meant to me. Besides, I went to him to bleed my soul clean. Penny bought me the cross. She's the only one who knows about my expeditions into religion. The week after we moved into the flat she brought it in a little scarlet box with white lining, my gold cross.

Scarlet, gold, white. The end always leads back to the beginning. It's an endless cycle, don't give up on your revolution.

Her fingers go to my neck and the chain that hangs there. Maybe she can read my mind, maybe not. She tugs at the thin chain and pulls the cross out into the open where the light catches the edges of it. Just like my prefect badge used to catch the light. They're so similar. Something not fully understood by those who are not associated with it. Revolutions. She kisses me on the forehead while she breaks the clasp on the chain and holds on to it tightly in her palm. I feel both naked and relieved when she does this.

"I can read you like a book, Percy Weasley."

"And you always were at the top of the class."

"Right behind you."

"Now go finish this revolution of yours."

But while she can read me she doesn't understand that the revolution can never end. It's the most perfect motion in existence. When the revolution ends, there is no reason to go on living.

--

Simple paths and innocence in the dark
A shared ambition by endless ecstasy
I can walk, a motion, nothing more
We breathe, a motion, shared, together
Complex
Alone, crushed because
Simple motions, simple motions
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Honey and Saliva