Percy sat at his desk inside his apartment’s little office. He had been living in London for about seven months now; outside was a flurry of snow and he could hear Muggle children running around outside, yelling about Christmas presents they just recently received. Ever since the summer, Percy had no contact with anyone in his family except for when he passed his father at the Ministry. Even then, Percy would hide his face behind whatever he was carrying, whether it was the Daily Prophet or his brief case. At first, he liked living on his own with no one to bother him, to make fun of him, to constantly put him down for following his dreams. He walked out of the Burrow with his head held high and no regrets whatsoever. Yet as time went on, Percy began to feel lonely. Sure, there was the Minister of Magic, who he was working for, and countless other people in his office, but when he returned to his small and empty apartment, loneliness would creep into Percy’s mind.
Occasionally, Percy would sit at his desk, a blank piece of parchment in front of him, his quill angled just the right way so he could write out his feelings. He thought he hated his family, but he soon realized he missed his family more than he would care to admit. Now, on this cold January evening, Percy decided he would try to write to someone in his family. He dipped his quill into his ink and positioned it to write.
Dear Mum and Da-
Did he really want to address his parents like that after what happened? He crumpled the piece of parchment and got a new one.