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thoughts and feels and thoughts and feels
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September 2009
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thoughts and feels and thoughts and feels [userpic]

I wandered off and came back to this after a few hours. I'm not sure if it still says what I meant it to originally. Perhaps will return to it in the morning.

Out the Door

Percy sat in a hard wooden chair, staring at the door to his flat. There was one other hard wooden chair that had never been used and a hard wooden table. In the next room there was a bed, an owl perch, five pairs of boxer-briefs, ten socks, and some hangers with some robes on them. Behind him there were two mugs, a kettle, and a tin of teabags. In the bathroom was a towel, a razor, a bar of soap, a bottle of shampoo, and three and a half rolls of toilet paper. There was a small trashcan next to the bathroom door. He'd never really gotten around to decorating or even furnishing the place. He'd never spent enough time there to really even think about it.
There were no memos, no reports... It was strange, he thought; his father had always brought his work home with him. His father loved the work he did. There was that half-crazed gleam in his eye when he talked about such mystic things as ballpoint pens and lightbulbs and radiators.

He thought of the Burrow. He thought of a nine-armed clock and Enchantment in Baking and garden gnomes and ghouls. He thought of a radio tuned to the WWN and a drainboard with an owl on it, of windowboxes full of herbs, of galoshes and chickens and a garage full of 'Muggle artifacts'. He thought of Ron's radioactively orange bedroom, of finding piles of Dungbombs *everywhere*, of the bags full of frills that Ginny had eviscerated from her room last summer. He thought of maroon sweaters and hot sausages and elderflower wine and eleven people sitting around a checked tablecloth.

He thought of creeping out of bed when his father came home late at night and sitting with a cup of tea and listening to stories about the Ministry. The ones Percy most wanted to hear were always the ones Arthur seemed to find the most boring. Percy didn't care much for cursed glasses or bewitched garden hoses, but he loved to be told about how a recent outbreak of magical telephone mishaps led Fudge to decide to pass the Communications Noninterference Act, and how the committee formed to write a plan of action for implementation decided to organize the strategy according to area and media and handed the task of appointing workers to a subcommittee, and how the subcommittee had voted that Arthur's office needed to thoroughly examine all the telegraph lines in York. It was so orderly, so logical - everyone doing the job handed down to them. He liked the predictablity of the hierarchy, the way everything could be coordinated so that everyone was working with each other rather than at cross purposes, and he said so. Arthur seemed to think over this for a moment before replying "Yes... bureaucracy does have its advantages." But he was proud to see the delight on his son's face. It was that same visible pride he wore when he watched Charlie win Gryffindor their last game at the end of Charlie's seventh year, when Bill and then Percy had been named Head Boy, when each of them had received their acceptance letters to Hogwarts. His father loved the work he did.

He looked away from the door. He thought of waking up in a gray room with robes hanging in the closet. He thought of making himself a cup of tea and going to the Ministry for another sixteen-hour day.

For some reason, he thought of Christmas; thought of Professor Flitwick creating garlands of golden bubbles just like his mom always had. He thought of waking up and looking out over the rooftops of Ottery St. Catchpole, keenly aware of exactly where in space his family was at that very moment - and equally keenly aware of what was for breakfast. He always thought they had nothing, and yet they had so much more than he.

He thought they would never take him back.

Then he thought of train rides back from school, of his parents' equal delight to see all of their children. He had always thought they were glad to see him because he had achieved highly and they were proud of him.

He thought of the promise of someone - anyone - sitting in the kitchen waiting for them. Whoever it was, he'd kept them waiting nearly a year now.

But the only way to get there was to walk out the door.

Current Mood: frozen!