Enigmatic Magic

alohamoraharry:

Harry had kept his eyes on Percy, lashes lowered though – almost as if he felt voyeuristic in what he was doing by watching the other. It felt surreal that Percy was back in the room – and at that, he was undressing, piece by piece, but at the same time, it felt natural – like they had just done this eleven, twelve days ago - as if those days were just yesterday. The clothes rolled off Percy’s body and as if it was just another other day before bed, Percy was sliding into his side of the bed. The mattress dipped down when Percy moved in and it acted like a heart palpitation to Harry because his entire heartbeat froze for a split second. He lost count of it completely until it synced back to normal. He probably lost his breath too, but he was too focused on his loss of heartbeat to notice.

When Percy moved into his arms, all Harry could do was welcome him into the space that was there. He had often held his children – hugged family and friends – folded hurt witches and wizards into his grasp to comfort them. But now, now as he felt his boyfriend move into the fold of his arms, he felt as if this space between his chest and the palms of his hands were made for Percy alone. He nuzzled his face against Percy’s head, shifting himself up a few inches so that he was once again taller than the other. His body automatically began finding the correct position for the pair of them – his leg sweeping between the parted one of the opposite’s – and his arms clasping behind Percy’s backside, pulling them until they were flush chest to chest. Eleven days ago was today and today was beautiful indeed.

He’d felt it at the crook of his neck – the juncture where his neck met his shoulder. At first it was just sniffling, and then it was wet and cold and warm at the same time. There was a soft sob that echoed out between the gap and Harry gripped his hands a bit tighter. Not into the skin of his boyfriend, but instead, he tightened his palms into each other and made his grasp tighter. He didn’t want to respond yet – not yet because right now Percy needed to speak, and to be completely honest, Harry needed to listen.

The crying – and Harry was sure he could categorize it as that now – began to grow louder and more distinct, and Harry found himself burying his nose into the soft curls of Percy’s hair even more. That surreal feeling and missed emotion washed over him like a wave coming in from the ocean. The house smelled like Percy to be honest – and Harry had maneuvered around different cardigans and sweaters and jackets just to pull that scent in through his nostrils, but no article of clothing could ever compare to the real thing. Harry wasn’t going to cry, no, but he found himself lost in the simple dynamic of being allowed to hold his lover. His right leg (the one that was cut through Percy’s own set), moved down a bit to rub up and down the back side of one of Percy’s calf – something he had done quite frequently but never put so much effort in until now because he needed to.

I’m not sad. I’m just, I’m happy.

Harry had felt the same way. Seven words completely described how Harry was feeling – word for word. He wasn’t crying, but he had let out more emotions and more sentiments than he usually did (even for being Harry Potter) and that was because he was just downright happy. The ten days he’d waited – that they’d both waited – led to this. “I love you, Percy, I love you very, very much.”

He wished he could have come up with a better saying than the words uttered by so many people on a daily basis, but there in three words – I love you – laid the entire truth. He loved Percy which is why he waited ten days and it was why he was willing to wait even longer, just for this one moment where he could hold Percy and bury himself against him. To feel his heartbeat against his chest and tangle his hands through the orange curls of his hair. “I’m not going to stop you from saying I’m sorry because I did that to myself all week, prat. And I said it to myself as if you were next to me. You’ll stop sooner or later when you realize that there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’ll just remind you of that until it hits you – hits you hard in the heart,” he licked his lips and ducked his head down, almost eye-level but still a bit taller in the duvets of the bed. He pushed his face across and kissed each one of the wet eyes of the opposite. At each kiss, Percy had closed his eyes and Harry smiled against each kiss. “The fact hits you that there is nothing to be sorry for because you came home. And not to the flat, Percy – you came home to me and that’s all I wanted.”

Harry moved again, though this time he pulled Percy with him. He shifted on his back, laying his head atop of his pillow, and shifted Percy until his head was planted on his chest, right against his heartbeat. His left hand moved under Percy’s shoulder, holding the far side of one, and his right hand moved to touch Percy’s waist, rubbing up and down against the flesh that was there.

“I’ll hold you tonight, Percy,” Harry whispered, his face still nuzzled into Percy’s curls from his angle above as he pointed his face downwards. “And I’ll hold you every day that you let me you, prat. Completely bent for you – you stole my heart, mind, soul, and everything in between since the day at the bloody ice cream shop. You’re mental if you think I’m letting go of my hold on you.”

He squeezed Percy’s waist a bit and smiled against his hair. “Tired? Do you want to sleep now?”

When Harry returned his sentiments, when he knew that Harry still loved him, too, could do so again, hadn’t really even stopped, no - that was when Percy had really started to calm down. He felt his chest loosen up, his breathing start to even, and there - there, when Harry said he wouldn’t stop him from saying sorry, that was when Percy felt himself smile. He would stop sometime soon enough, but for now his brain was still on the I’m so sorry mode that felt like it had to keep coming out physically. He would probably even whisper it in his sleep, and only hoped that neither of them would hear it. But he was just happy that Harry was going to keep trying to knock it into him that he didn’t need to keep saying it, because that would help him realize that Harry was here again, that Harry had not left the flat in his absence, and had not left his life because of his rash decision.

There’s nothing to be sorry for. That, above everything else that Harry said, stuck with Percy. It stuck itself to his mind, right there almost front and center (but not quite, because front and center was where Harry sat with a stupid grin on his face, where he always sat, even when Percy had tried to push him away in those first few days away). He repeated Harry’s words over and over in his head, only pausing to listen to Harry say that he would hold him. 

Oh, and the bloody ice cream shop where it had all started and the place where Harry had never really left. Percy, though he didn’t say it now, had a vague notion that he wanted to go back to that shop someday, but this time just him and Harry. Not that he hadn’t loved having Lily there with them, but the next time, maybe they could share an ice cream sundae and just, have a date out in Diagon Alley, have it be part of that date. But for now, Percy kept that idea to himself, putting it alongside all his other ideas involving him and Harry that he didn’t quite want to share yet. But when the time was right, he would.

“I’m glad that I was able to meet you and Lily at the shop - it had been too long, hadn’t it? Never thought this would be the eventual result of that meeting, but, I’m glad. Glad it was. You were actually really adorable that day, and nice, and just… you. You’re great, Harry…”

When Harry asked if he was tired and wanted to sleep now, Percy only nodded, knowing that if he hadn’t used a lot of his magic to put those memories into that letter, maybe he’d be up to something more (if Harry wanted it, too), but tonight… well, he just wanted to sleep. He’d be better in the morning, fit for more. Tonight, though, he wanted several hours of sleep with Harry tucked by his side. This was home, and he just wanted to get used to it again, get used to having Harry here and get used to being happy again. If all this was still here in the morning, he would finally know - it wasn’t just a dream. He would sleep, he would wake, and if Harry was still here, if he wasn’t at Bill’s, then this was truly reality. It already felt like it, but he just wanted a good night’s sleep and to wake up and really, really know.

“Sleep… yeah. I’m tuckered out, love, sorry - but, magic and all. Coming back, tonight, all of it. I’m…” - he yawned - “tired. Right…” He lifted his head a bit, stretching out his neck to put a kiss against Harry’s jawline, resting his lips there a bit longer than usual, taking all he could from the touch, and that included a bit of stubble. He smiled into Harry’s skin, and then went to nestle himself against Harry’s neck, laying a few kisses there. But what he wanted, and what he did, was end up with his head against Harry’s heartbeat again, after kissing Harry’s collarbone and licking it just to tease the git, his git.

“I really do love you,” he said as his eyelids fluttered, “and I appreciate you for being in my life. For just, you. Who you are. I can’t wait to see you again in the morning. It’s… it’s what I missed a lot when I was gone. You weren’t there to wake up to. But now, now you’re here when I go to sleep…. and I don’t have to sleep alone, so I won’t wake alone…

“I don’t miss anything anymore now that I’m back here with you.”

He had already been growing tired as he spoke, his words softer each syllable until he was whispering, his words small against Harry’s chest. After he stopped speaking, Harry’s heartbeat lulled him into sleep, the simple thump-thump of it encircling his head like music.

alohamoraharry:

Harry trailed after Percy when he went to the bedroom. It felt strange still, seeing another shadow (ahead of him, behind him, anything) as they glided to the bedroom. He was always used to his shadow right behind him, but now, almost as if it was some sort of reassurance, there was Percy and his shadow, walking with him. He supposed that this bout of realization was coming in waves. The first touch of Percy’s hand to his shoulder; their legs under the table; kissing once – twice (lips against skin); and here now, walking with his counterpart. All of these events made Harry’s heart swell because Percy kept his promise and that meant a great deal with Harry.

He knew that things would never be perfect, hell, with him, being the boy who lived, more often than not, they were chaotic. But he had learned a long time ago that the biggest thing that mattered was the journey to get you there and the end result. The end result in this scenario was rather beautiful in his mind – to him, Percy had kept his problem, and he had suspected, to Percy, that he was just as in shock that Harry was still here. Just here. The journey itself, while intense, had brought them closer in some ways. It was too soon to fully understand how, but Harry felt that cord (invisible, not colored, and strong as ever) that tied them become a little firmer from all of this – more connected.

When Percy sat on the edge of the bed, déjà vu rushed over Harry for a moment. Ten days ago, Percy had sat on the edge of this bed and written out a letter to Harry before leaving; eleven days ago Harry had helped bandage Percy up after a bath together; probably (just about) fifteen days ago, they made love on this bed and Harry cried Percy’s name against his neck.

And right now, right now Percy was sitting there, spilling his guts. It pulled at the chords in Harry’s heart and he knew – he knew he needed to say one more thing. It reminded him of the autumn when he had firmly told Percy that Fred’s death was not his fault. Harry had rarely been so dramatic and truthful in his words, but on some very rare occasions, he would easily speak his mind.

“Percy.” Harry said softly, his arms moving down to handle the ducklings still in the opposite’s hands. He moved around and placed them back on the pillow, spelling them to stay (he really didn’t want the great fall part two because poor Sherlock would was damn near worried over John for ages after the first one – after all, ducklings can talk to each other). He was back a moment later, standing in front of his lover. He had a soft smile and for once he towered against he opposite in height. He liked their height difference for the most part – he was smaller by a few inches, but it fit just nicely. He lifted his right hand – touched Percy’s cheek to raise his gaze. He would have cracked himself if this was the first time they had touched since Percy came home because Percy was so damn beautiful. He almost lost his words in the back of his throat.

“I know what it’s like to feel guilty. For ten days I felt guilty about what I did to you last autumn, and I suppose I deserved it. But what I also learned is that while I needed to feel that guilt for a bit, nothing could change the past or anything that I had already done. I could only work on the future – which is proving to you that you’re exactly what I needed and wanted all along. That being married didn’t stop me from having feelings for you - for wanting you. I should feel more guilty over that but I’m not. I can’t blame myself for how I feel compared to what I physically do. So I don’t blame myself for still being in love with you while I was with him. It’s the truth,” He stopped his words, letting his fingers fan out against the freckled flesh of Percy’s skin. “I don’t want you to be sad or upset or guilty. Because it would hurt me when I looked into your eyes knowing that the chain effect of what I did in the autumn led you to need to leave which led me to being a prat with my emotions. Don’t – don’t worry. That’s over and done with now and you promised me you weren’t going to leave again and that’s good enough for me – that’s more than good enough. It’s what I need to hear and I trust you completely.”

He pushed his head down, forward, pressing a kiss to the crown of Percy’s head. His lips formed into a smile after he pressed in. His opposite hand moved up, touching the other side of Percy’s face even though he couldn’t see it from this angle. “It’s going to be alright and I’m not mad. Out of the ten days you were gone I was not mad at you a single day. Not a single one, Percy. I just wanted you home and you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He pulled away slowly, but moved away quickly, wanting to give Percy room to digest anything he said. He moved to his side of the bed and slid in under the duvets, curling his head against the pillow place there. In a few moments, Percy would join him – and in a few moments, everything would be (just about) back to normal. In a few moments, it would be day one – a new countdown of the start of this platform in their relationship. In a few moments, the last ten days would be history.

Harry took care of the ducklings when Percy wasn’t thinking about them, and then Harry was taking care of him when he wasn’t thinking enough about taking care of himself. Percy still knew and still wished that he hadn’t left at all, but, there were no time-turner’s anymore and even if there were, he was sure that Harry would never let him get his hands on one because honestly, the past was the past as that cliche went. And that cliche did happen to be the truth, which Percy kept trying to drill into his head. He’d been doing so ever since he’d had that row with his father, because, well, what good was it to dwell on what could have been if he hadn’t split from his family for those years? His life was his life because of the choices he’d made, and this life, where he was now, he did like it.

He liked how Harry said exactly how he felt, and he felt safe because of how Harry, for once, was taller than him. And - and, it was just how Percy Weasley was not one to usually wear his bloody heart on his sleeve like the others in his family. And now that he had, for once, done so, he saw how beneficial it was in some situations. How it would always be for the best with Harry, instead of… running away. Running away from Harry and their problems would never be good. It just - it would never work. That wasn’t how relationships flourished, it was how they destructed. Not talking was worse than arguing. Though Percy was glad that he had not yet gotten into a real row with Harry, but he would prefer that now over what he - they - had gone through in the past almost ten days. 

When Harry kissed the crown of his head, and then his other moved to touch the other side of his face, Percy leaned forward just a little bit, eyes shut to everything but still feeling and hearing and smelling Harry. He’d missed it all, not just seeing Harry, but just, everything that was Harry. He had missed just Harry. And now, somehow, miraculously, it was all right again. Percy could just… just sense that Harry was speaking the truth. And Percy’s chest felt lighter than it ever had been when he’d been with this man. It felt bloody great. 

It’s going to be alright. That - that’s what got to Percy, and when he heard it, he opened his eyes again. It was just that, so easily, Harry could say those words, utter them from his lips. Now, Percy Weasley did not easily cry. He had, of course, just a few days ago, but that had been about shame, about guilt, about hurting Harry. When he had never wanted to, in his sane mind. But he’d been a bit mad when he had left - definitely not in his right mind. But before that cry, he couldn’t remember the last time he had (it might have been the night Harry had almost offed himself, but who wouldn’t cry when faced with that?) - he hadn’t even done so in the days after Fred died. He’d instead turned stony-faced, unfeeling, numb. Because if he cried, it would show that it had really happened. 

Now, sitting here on the edge of the bed, he did not cry either, but he knew what it felt like when he was about to. The tears pooling around his lashes, and if he blinked, one would come down and he’d lose it. He breathed in evenly, deeply, when Harry pulled away, keeping his eyes on the wall where he had just previously been looking at Harry’s form. He heard Harry get onto his side of the bed, and in a few seconds, Percy stood, getting out his shirt, trousers, all of that until it was just his boxers. He didn’t bother to fold the clothes up, planning to wash them of being away from here and Harry. He wanted to get rid of that kind of reek to them. 

When he did crawl into bed beside Harry, he stared as his boyfriend, contemplating a lot of things that he couldn’t put into words. He just stared at him and then brought him into his arms, nestling his head into the crook of Harry’s neck, sniffling because he knew this was coming. But he wanted to at least get something out his mouth before he was unable to talk anymore.

“I’m not sick, don’t worry, I just - I’m fucking happy. I cannot believe, wrap around my head how good you are to me. Anyone else - anyone else would have just thrown me out into the freezing street. But you. You waited, you weren’t mad, you were just you. And I fucking love you, Harry Potter. So when I start -” He couldn’t keep them back anymore, and so he just cried, but they weren’t sad tears at all. Well, maybe a few of them were remnants from being sad, but no, most of them were just happy and shocked and thankful and everything that he felt about Harry spilling out from his eyes and going down his cheeks. He felt his chest shuddering, shoulders heaving, and he held onto Harry tighter. He should have felt ashamed for crying, and would have if this was anyone else but Harry. But this was Harry.

“Yeah, when I,” he said through hiccuping and sniffling, quickly accioing a tissue so he wouldn’t get bogeys all over Harry, “when I start doing - this. I’m not sad, Harry,” - he blew his nose and smiled once he tossed it over onto the floor, decided to worry about cleaning it up tomorrow. “I’m not - I’m not sad. I just, I’m happy. Sure you’ve heard of these bloody happy tears before. But - but I am. Thankful. Happy. Glad that you’re here and you’re… you. God, I’m bloody bent for you. I am. I’m still sorry for what I did, I’ll probably keep saying that for a while, but. Right.

“Will you just hold me tonight?”