The tap is dripping again. Percy has tried three different charms on it, but none have worked for more than a day. There is a frying pan in the sink and the water rings against it as it falls. The sound goes through Percy's head.
Percy is tied to the bedpost, his arms behind his back. There is tape on his wrists so the rope won't chafe and he is kneeling on a cushion. Barry is standing in front of him, tapping a riding crop against his palm.
Barry has a card up in a specialized bookshop. Last week, Percy took it down to look at it. He never intended to do anything about it. "That's me," Barry said from beside him and Percy dropped the card on the floor.
The room is cold and Percy's skin is all over goose pimples. He is self-conscious, embarrassed about his hollow chest, his white legs, the peeling paper on the walls.
"Look at me," Barry says, and raises Percy's chin with the riding crop. "You're mine," he says, "mine to do what I want with."
The tap seems louder now, every drop is like a crash, like cars smashing in the street. Percy's rent is due tomorrow. He will have to go to Gringotts to get more Muggle money. He thinks the goblins are cheating him on the exchange rate.
Muggle money seems very sensible to Percy and he has submitted a report to the Ministry, suggesting that wizard currency be decimalized. But he thinks his landlady is cheating him too, charging so much for a chilly little bedsit with a gas ring and a dripping tap.
Percy wonders if he is supposed to say something back to Barry now. Percy looks at the mat of dark hair covering Barry's chest and belly. There is a scar on Barry's abdomen, a narrow strip of bare, shiny skin.
The crop cracks against Percy's cheek and he gasps. Barry strikes Percy's shoulders, one side and then the other.
Percy has a safety word. If he says the word, then Barry will back off, Barry will stop. Percy has never had a safety word before this.
Before this, Percy has screamed, has wept, has pleaded, and no one has ever stopped. Before this, Percy has been torn, been bent, been broken. He has suffered exquisite pain, relentless fear, overwhelming humiliation. And never a moment of relief until he shuddered and came and found himself alone in his bed, staring at the water stains on the ceiling as his cock softened in his hand.
When Barry hits Percy, it hurts. Percy flinches and bites his lip.
Barry unties one of Percy's hands. "Where's your mobile?" he says and is surprised when Percy says he doesn't have one. Barry gives Percy his instead. Percy is supposed to contact a friend, to let someone know he is all right. He rings the speaking clock.
When Barry ties Percy up again, he tests the knots so they won't pull too tight. He strokes the crop up and down Percy's chest, then smacks it across Percy's belly. Barry tosses the crop onto the bed and undoes his trousers.
Barry's cock is half erect and he strokes it until it is hard. Percy's is still limp, still soft. Percy is staring at Barry's cock, at his heavy balls, at his dark thatch of pubic hair. He knows that Barry will want Percy to take his cock into his mouth, to suck it.
Barry is tearing open a condom and rolling it onto his cock. Percy has never seen one used before. It will be dry against his tongue, he thinks. It will taste like dust and the plastic forks he gets with takeaway.
Percy remembers the soft white sausages he had for tea. The frying pan in the sink is filled with grease. The tap is dripping. Percy is going to be sick.
"Elephant," he says and Barry stops.
It's all right. Barry stops. He's not even angry. "You did well," he tells Percy as he unties the knots, as he pulls his shirt on. "It will be easier next time."
Percy steps into his trousers. He fishes his slippers out from under the bed.
"You want a new washer for that tap," Barry says and closes the door behind him.
The tape stings when Percy pulls it away. A few hairs tear off his arm and his eyes water. He pulls on a dressing gown.
There is a tapping at the window. Percy opens it and Hermes flies into the room. "You know you shouldn't come here," Percy says. "Stay at the office." Hermes has a letter from Percy's mother.
Percy strokes Hermes's feathers and Hermes hoots softly. Then he launches out the window, into the darkness. Percy puts the letter on the table and goes to do the washing-up.
FINIS
Chrissy F. @ March 11, 2005
I feel sorry for Percy. He was kind of annoying in the books, but he doesn't deserve that. It's so depressing.