Heroes at Hogwarts

ten | answers and skipping stones

percy

Percy couldn't get out of his thoughts, but he figured with Harry sitting here with him- by the lake and away from others- he may be able to make some headway.

Harry cleared his throat, returning his focus to the boy next to him. "So..."

Percy chuckled a little. "It's fine. Fire away."

"What?" Harry asked. He was tensed slightly, like he expected Percy to explode. 

"I know you have questions. I'll answer them, the best I can," Percy explained.

Harry swallowed, but took a shot anyway. "First, what's wrong?"

Percy wiped his face again, though no tears were falling anymore, and waved the younger boy off. "Oh, nothing, just missing home is all."

Harry nodded like he didn't believe him one bit. "Fine. So, with the wind the other day..."

Percy chuckled dryly. "I knew you didn't buy that." 

"I know it wasn't the wind, for one thing. Hasn't happened since, either, and Hagrid says-"

Percy interrupted him, "You asked Hagrid?"

"I ask Hagrid about everything." Harry waved him off. "Including the whispers from the professors about you and your friends." Harry turned to him with suspicion in his eyes. "And when McGonagall is worried, I should be."

Percy smiled a little. "You really took this into your own hands, huh?"

"Not really." Harry gestured to the tattoo on Percy's forearm. "I asked Hermione to do some digging. She hasn't found anything yet, but maybe you could tell me what S.P.Q.R means? Or maybe the trident? Or the line?"

Percy covered the tattoo with his other hand. "That's another story. Off limits. And no scar questions, either, I know you quizzed Jason about his."

Harry was silent for a moment. "He told me you guys had your own war to fight, it's why you didn't know about Voldemort."

Percy nodded. "That's right."

"What kind of war?"

Percy pursed his lips. "Come again?"

"What kind of war, Percy?"

"The kind where you fight each other, Potter, what do you mean?"

Harry sighed. "I saw Frank's scars too. And Jason's. None of them are curse scars."

Percy thought for a moment. He looked out across the lake. "No, they aren't."

"Then what happened?"

"You ask a lot of questions," Percy muttered.

"You told me I could," Harry retorted. "And you said you would answer them."

Percy smiled. "Wands aren't the only thing that can cause scars, Harry, even for wizards."

"A muggle war, then. With knives and bombs and guns."

"No." Percy shook his head. "No."

Harry looked more confused than ever.

"No guns. No bombs. Knives, yes. Swords, yes. Daggers, arrows, spears. That kind of war."

"Hands on combat?" Harry asked.

Percy touched a scar that was poking out the sleeve of his t-shirt. Because it was their free hour, he could wear normal clothes. "You know it."