Summary: Everyone assumes that Percy has the perfect life, but what if that wasn't quite true? *Slight OotP spoilers*

Author's Note: Pure and utter despair and depression, that's basically all I can say. Even writing it made me sad. It's mostly letters, but it works, I think. Hopefully you enjoy it, whether you love or hate the complex man that is Percy Weasley.

Disclaimer: You know how J.K. Rowling owns all those spiffy Harry Potter characters? Yeah, well I'm not her, so therefore I own absolutely nothing. I just created a little plot and borrowed a few of her characters for a while to have my fun.

Sincerely yours, Percy

Percy rolled over onto his back, his eyes still squeezed shut. Maybe, if he kept them that way long enough, he could forget what they would open to. A drop of water landed on his cheek, and he groaned, swiping it off quickly. His eyes opened and focused on the tiny bedroom, just slightly bigger than a walk-in closet, and moved swiftly up to the ceiling. It was leaking again.

Picking up his glasses from the tiny table beside the bed, he flicked a bug onto the floor and walked over to the shabby dresser in the corner. Percy pulled out a clean set of robes and mechanically started dressing for work.

A soft hooting grabbed his attention, and he reached over to the window, opening it a bit. "Sorry Hermes. I forgot you were out."

The owl landed on the top of the dresser, dropping a letter in front of him and hooting again. He pulled a few owl treats out of a small bag in the top drawer, giving them to Hermes with an apologetic look.

"I know you aren't happy, but I can't help it. If I admit that I'm struggling, you know they'll ridicule me for the rest of my life," he said softly, taking the letter and leaving the room. He put the kettle on the burner and shoved a few things around in the cupboard until he found a lone teabag tucked away in the back.

With a sigh, Percy opened the letter and read.

Dearest Percy,

Hello dear, I hope that you're well. Things have been rather hectic at the house recently, which is why I haven't gotten a chance to write sooner. I was surprised by your last letter. You've actually found a nice place! I know you would just frown at me if I told you to your face, but I'm very proud of you, despite the misunderstandings we've all had.

Fred and George flew out of Hogwarts three months ago, which I'm sure that you've heard by now. They've started that joke shop, despite all the arguments from your father and I. Charlie and Bill are doing well. Charlie will be coming to visit next week and would like very much if you could find time to see him. Ginny sends her love and says, "Though you're acting like a stupid git (she got that one from Ron, of course), I still miss you and wish you'd come home."

I won't take up any more of your time because I'm sure that you're very busy. Keep in mind what your sister said. We would all be happy to have you home, dear.

Love always,


Percy sighed, setting the letter aside. He hadn't found a nice place at all. The ceiling leaked, the water was never warm, the heating system never worked, and the windows wouldn't close. Not only that, but he had hardly any food and practically no money to buy some.

Sipping his tea slowly (in hopes of savoring the taste a bit), he stepped back into the bedroom to set the letter amongst other reminders of happier times. One particular letter drew his attention. It was the most worn out of the bunch, showing just how often he'd read it in the past few weeks. Pulling it out, he set the tea down and read it again.

Dear Percy,

Hello! How are you? It's been quite some time since I've had the opportunity to speak with you, so I thought perhaps I would write. I do hope that you aren't too busy to reply, I miss our debates terribly. You were the only one I was ever able to hold an academic discussion with, and I miss it. With Ron and Harry, it's always Quidditch and girls.

I know that things between you and your family have been rather strained since you left, but I'm sure that if you would just talk to them, they would understand. Your mother has taken not having you around very hard. Don't tell anyone this, but I believe you just might be her favorite son. I wish that you would consider going home, Percy. I'll be staying at The Burrow for the entire month of August and would really like to see you there.

You're a wonderful person, Percy, despite some bad choices on everyone's part. Please, don't let your stubbornness get in the way of having a good relationship with your family. They miss you even more than I do, which is quite a lot.



Percy wiped a single tear from his cheek and placed the letter back in the drawer with the rest of them. He had never written back, and he wondered for a moment, if she had even noticed. His mother probably put her up to it anyway, he decided. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, then reached for a quill and some parchment anyway.

Dear Hermione,

I regret that I did not write to you sooner. Perhaps you would have been able to help me with all the difficulties I've faced. As it is, I have decided that there is only one way for me to handle my situation. I hope you realize that none of this is your fault, it is strictly my inadequacy that has led me here. You were a good friend when no one else wanted to be, Hermione, and I thank you for that. Please tell my family that I love them dearly, but I could not let them see me this way. I've been lying to you all for quite some time. I have not found happiness, only complete and utter despair. Good luck with everything in your life, Hermione. I know that you will go far. It obviously doesn't matter now, but I think we would have done well together. I wish I would have seen it sooner and asked if you felt the same.

Sincerely yours,


Author's Note (again): Well, that's it. Rather short, and completely open ended. I was just in a mood, clicked new document, and started tapping keys. Unplanned, unfinished... review if you'd like, it'd be appreciated greatly. There may be a sequel if I can think of a plotline good enough for it, but no promises as of yet.