7. Hurts - Sunday

Percy had always thought he was one of those people who were perfectly fine on their own. In part this was true, because he honestly wouldn’t feel better if some random person kept him company during those lonely hours at home. He was just as certain about this as he was about the fact that he’d still been wrong in assuming this meant he liked being alone. He didn’t, he really didn’t.
      Maybe he’d been stupid, thinking the Ministry always knew best and Harry and Dumbledore’s warnings could just be disregarded. Or maybe he’d been right. That wasn’t what this was about, even though it was a large part of the reason he was spending his nights alone in a bed that felt too large for one person. It didn’t matter compared to other things.
      What mattered was the fact that this was all his own fault. He’d driven the only person he actually wanted in his life away, because of his own stupidity and gullibility. He should have listened, shouldn’t just have assumed it would work out alright in the end. He had never been good with people, but he could hardly believe he had managed to make such a mess of his life.
      But he had. And he was sorry. He was so, so, terribly sorry. He’d take back everything had had ever said if necessary - he just wished Oliver would come back.

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