It was a bright June day - the kind of bright day that should have made his step lighter. But somehow, Percy Weasley felt as if he was looking at the world through dirty glasses. Not that the feeling was any surprise. For weeks now, he had felt as if he was standing outside his body, watching his own life creep by. Every day, he heard his voice saying things to his parents and his siblings and yet the words were totally disconnected from the thoughts running through his mind. He worked long hours at the Ministry, attending meeting after meeting about the future, about building on the legacy of heroes. And yet it was the past that haunted him. He needed to leave it - leave the Burrow, leave his office, leave the memories that looped continually in his mind.
And so he walked - walked the sidewalks of London not really knowing where to go. At last, he found himself back in front of his own flat, not because it provided him with any particular comfort, but more that it was just familiar. For all its lonely dullness, it was at least completely private. He climbed four flights of grey steps and fumbled in his pocket for a key.
The flat was wrecked. Had it only been three weeks since he had left this place in a desperate panic to get to Hogwarts? It felt like it had been years ago. Ministry papers were scattered where he had left them and a book on the Imperius Curse still lay open on his unmade bed. Unwashed dishes were growing mold in the sink and his dirty Ministry robes lay in a pile beside the cupboard.
Percy flicked his wand at the fireplace and started a magical fire. Ridiculous, he told himself, to start a fire on such a warm day. But somehow things always seemed a little homier with a fire in the hearth. He Accioed the rubbish bin and with one swoop of his wand, the mass of Ministry papers floated into the air and shot into the can. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that he would never have to save or file these papers. Turning his attention to the empty bottles of butterbeer on his kitchen counter, he was struck with sudden resolve. He would take it all to the basement furnace and dump it there himself - every bit of rubbish, every bit of silly worthless nonsense that had filled his life for years. He wanted to watch it all burn.
xxxxxxx
He made his way down the basement steps with a bag of garbage, the drama of the little cremation ceremony playing over in his mind. It was the end of his former self. Fred would have approved of the gesture and Percy imagined his brother looking down on him and applauding. He lifted up the latch on the furnace door. The heat burned his face and forced him a step backwards. Looking down at the glowing coals, he muttered a eulogy.
"So this is it. The end of Percy Ignatius Weasley's crap. Gone forever. Burned to a bloody crisp. And the world will be a better place because of it."
Glass shattered and a strangled voice cried out behind him. Percy jerked around, letting the bags fall to the concrete floor.
"Who's there," he called, whipping out his wand. His reflexes had not forgotten the battle and his body was still reacting to sudden startles. He looked in every direction, but there was no one there. The cold cinder block walls simply stretched into blackness.
And then a small voice came from somewhere near the rubbish shoot. "Please don't hex me. I don't have a wand."
A girl emerged from behind a bright red rubbish skip. She was skinny with smudges on her narrow face. Her honey-colored hair was tangled and her wire-framed glasses were taped with dirty spell-o-tape. Clearly, he had frightened her. She had been rummaging through the bin.
Percy lowered his wand and took a step toward her. This was an issue for the Ministry. Witches and wizards who had been on the run for a year were now returning from hiding. Many were without homes or wands and they were turning up in strange places all over the wizarding world. "Hello there. Do you need help?"
She looked at him suspiciously. "No. Do you need help?"
Percy knew he would have to move carefully. "Miss, may I ask why you are rummaging through that skiff?"
She swallowed and bit her lip. "May I ask you why you were about to throw yourself in the furnace?"
"I was – what?" Percy hesitated and then realized what his little eulogy must have sounded like.
"Oh no, not me! I was – I was just going to burn the rubbish from my flat." He held up the bag and the girl looked at him.
"The way you were speaking, I thought…"
"No, no. I'm perfectly fine. Now, if you would allow me, I can assist you to St. Mungo's. You know the war is over now, and the Ministry has set up a temporary housing ward for homeless witches and wizards…"
"It's over?"
"It's over."
Her lip began to quiver. "Who won?"
Percy swallowed back his own emotion and answered kindly. "The good guys won."
She looked at him, bewildered and then began to sob in earnest. "I – I – Ju-u-st – n- n -need – my – wand baaack," she wailed.
"I can help you with that. When was the last time you had something good to eat?"
She looked up at him and he could see behind the broken glasses that the hungry eyes were a deep aquamarine color.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said extending his hand. "Come with me."
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and nodded and he cautiously led her back to the lift. "I'm Percy, by the way. Percy Weasley."
"I'm Audrey. Audrey Sommersby."
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She was shaking. Why – why did she cry out like that? It was because it was him. It was irrational, the way her legs had always turned to jelly around him. She had never even spoken to him in school, she'd only watched when he held the door open for the other girl or nonchalantly carried her books. After all, who could hate Penelope Clearwater? She was sweet and smart and polite with that beautiful hair that was always pulled back with the perfect matching bow?
Now here she was following along behind him as if he were Head Boy again. He was talking about the war being over and the idea seemed unreal. It couldn't be over. The world seemed exactly the same. There was no change in the color of the sky or the sounds of the cars on the streets. The alleys were still dirty, the night was still cold and yet - he said it was over and that she hadn't known. How could she not know? And yet – this was Percy Weasley. He was speaking kindly to her and letting her into his flat. Dark shadows seemed to be intruding around the edges of her vision and she felt a little dizzy.
"Are you alright, Audrey? You look pale."
"Could I go to your bathroom?"
"Of course, it's right over here."
She shut the door. She was not going to faint. Quickly, she turned on the water and splashed her face, grabbing the towel by the sink. It was dark red and clean and soft and it smelled so lovely. She rested her face in the warm softness. The war was over. It was really really over.
Forcing back the tears, she stood up and looked in the mirror. Her stomach dropped. The pale, dirty face that looked back at her was almost unrecognizable.
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"I'm sorry, Percy, but we're talking about at least a week. We're slammed, mate." The head in the floo was Percy's old friend Cecil Leonard. Cecil had been Head Boy the year before Percy and was now a Healer at St. Mungo's.
"Come on, Cecil," Percy hissed. She's in my loo, right now. She has nowhere to go. You guys are supposed to have money coming from the Ministry to get these people back on their feet."
"And it doesn't work that easily," Cecil sneered. "You Ministry guys think you can throw some money at us and it will fix everyone's problems. These people have been running and hiding for almost a year. Many need serious treatment and St. Mungo's is working all of us overtime. I haven't been home in three days," he added painfully. Percy shifted guiltily. Cecil had been married just last year and he was, obviously, missing his wife.
"Look, if you were in my shoes, what would you do?" he asked.
Cecil sighed. "Does she seem hurt?"
"No. She's frightened, I think."
"With good reason, I'm sure, if she's been escaping the Dementors without a wand. Talk to her. Make sure she understands where she is and what has happened. If you think she is confused in any way send Hermes and I'll come by your flat. In the meantime, send the Ministry paperwork to my attention. I'll do everything I can to expedite things here. But I can't promise you, mate. Until I can get an open bed, you'll have to handle her on your own.
Cecil disappeared and Percy got up from the floor and knocked on the door of the loo. "Um…Miss? Audrey?"
"Yes?" Came a voice from behind the door.
"Are you alright in there?"
There was no answer just the sound of sniffles.
Percy's heart started racing. He tried the door. It was locked. "Are you sick?"
"I don't know…" She was crying again. Percy considered breaking down the door and then checked the idea. If she really was sick that could be embarrassing. What he needed was another woman. But where could he get a woman? He couldn't or wouldn't go to his mother. Everyone at the Burrow had enough on their mind. There were the women he knew at the Ministry, but he didn't associate with them outside of the office. He'd never call on Penelope. Not in a million years. There was only one hope he could think of, and it was a long shot.
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He marched down the hall to flat 7D, steeled himself for what he was sure was going to be an unpleasant experience, and knocked. Within seconds Roger Davies was at the door holding a cocktail.
"Oh Percy. Hey there. Listen it's not a good time right now, I'm a little…"
"Yes, I figured you were," Percy said placing a hand on the door to try to keep Roger from slamming it in his face. "I'm not actually here to see you. I wondered if I could disturb your date?"
"My date?"
Percy could just see her standing behind him. She was tall and glamorous with long brown hair and a very short skirt. "Roger?" she called, "Is there a problem?"
"No, not at all." Roger raised his eyebrows and gave Percy a little push back into the hall. "Hey man, give me a break here…" he hissed.
"Roger, this is an emergency. I need a girl."
"That's been clear for three years, old chum, but you're not honing in on my territory tonight. I've been working on this honey for two months now. I just got her to open up about her plans to start a magical beauty salon. I'm on a roll, man. You've got to go."
"I'm sorry Roger, but this will only take a minute, at least I think it will only take a minute and I really need a woman because there's a girl in my flat and I think she's sick and…"
The girl was standing in the door behind Roger. "What's going on here?"
"It's nothing Betsy, it's just my insane neighbor."
Percy leaped at the opportunity. "Betsy, I'm so sorry to bother you, but I really need your help."
Ten minutes later Percy was sitting on one end of his sofa and Roger Davies was sitting on the other staring into his whiskey. Betsy was in the loo with the girl. When she emerged she smiled. "Percy? Is that your name?"
Percy nodded.
"Can I see your clothes?"
"My clothes?"
"Yeah, lovey. I need to look at your clothes."
Percy led her into his bedroom and Roger Davies groaned and swigged down the last of his drink. Betsy selected a pair of paisley pajamas that she seemed to find rather humorous and then headed back to the loo. When she returned the second time, she frowned at him. "I've run a bath for her and she's going to wash her hair. She needs food, though. I don't think she's had a real meal in weeks. Do you have anything in here?"
"Not much," Percy answered truthfully, "I have some canned stuff."
"Roger's got a casserole in his flat."
Roger looked up from the sofa. "Hey, I made that for you."
"It's okay, lovey-dove. What do you say, you and I go out dancing? I feel like I need to move any way."
Roger perked up. He looked from Betsy to Percy and then disappeared. When he reappeared he was holding a casserole dish with two potholders. Betsy smiled. "Oh it does smell delicious, love. Maybe you can cook for me some other time. I really love breakfast, you know."
Rogers eyes widened and he plopped the casserole on the kitchen counter. "Well, the casserole's all yours, Perce. Glad we could help you out here, but can't stay any longer, you know."
"Yeah, I understand. Thanks to both of you. I owe you one, Roger."
"Oh it wasn't any problem at all," Roger puffed importantly as Betsy beamed at him. "Glad we could help out and I hope the girl's going to be okay. What was her name, anyway?"
"Audrey. Audrey Sommersby," Percy said.
"Audrey Sommersby? Blimey, she was at Hogwarts with us."
"Are you sure? I don't remember her."
Roger rolled his eyes. "You Gryffindors were always so daft. She was in Hufflepuff, I think. A year behind me, two behind you. Didn't play Quidditch or anything like that - quiet, a little artsy, as I recall."
"Well that explains a few things," Betsy said.
"Explains what?"
"Well, she's embarrassed, don't you see? You may not remember her, but she remembers you. And now she sees you again after all these years and she, well, she looks a fright. Just be kind to her. She's obviously been through quite a lot."
Roger left with his arm at Betsy's back, giving Percy the thumbs up sign as he shut the door. Percy went to the kitchen to find a plate and fork and then went and knocked on the door to the loo. "Um – excuse me - Audrey, it's okay to come out. There's some food out here. You must be starving." The door cracked a bit. "Come on. Believe it or not, it smells really good."
She emerged with wet hair, wearing his paisley pajamas with the sleeves rolled up. She looked something like a tiny kitten that someone had tried to drown. "Sit here by the fire where it's warm and I'll bring you the food on a tray," Percy said. She shivered and obeyed him. He placed the tray with the casserole in her lap and then retreated back to the sofa, watching her eat. Her plate was clean in less than two minutes and he was bringing her seconds. "Who knew Roger Davies was a good cook?" he chuckled. "There's no telling what other tricks he has up his sleeves. Talented guy, Roger Davies, but he only has one ambition."
She smiled with her mouth full. She hadn't really said much. Percy thought about Cecil's advice and wondered if he should try to get her to talk. He decided there would be time for that later. He went to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a tiny bottle and brought it back to her. "Tomorrow, we'll go get you a new wand, but for now I want you to take some of this. It's dreamless sleep potion. You remember. We brewed some at Hogwarts. Truth is, I take it sometimes myself. It helps with the nightmares."
"You have nightmares, Percy?" she said softly.
"I think everyone has had nightmares lately."
She stood up and went to his window, it was dark outside now and the skyline of London sparkled over the tops of buildings. "Are you absolutely sure it's over?"
"I'm sure."
"And we're safe here?"
"Safer than you've been in a year."
"You always made people feel safe, Percy."
"Did I?"
"Yes, you patrolled the corridors all night when the Chamber of Secrets opened and that night Sirius Black broke into the castle you stayed awake all night making sure everyone was in their sleeping bag."
"Yes. Well, I was a kid and I wasn't really making anyone safer."
"You made me feel safer. I knew no one would pull any pranks on us while we slept. I knew you would keep the door safely locked. I felt safer because of you."
He smiled at the irony and poured a teaspoonful of the potion. "Just a little bit should do you. You can have my bed tonight and I'll sleep here on the sofa."
"No, I don't have to take your bed," she swallowed down the potion and then stuck her tongue out and shuddered. "Ugh that stuff tastes like gin mixed with toothpaste. I can sleep on the sofa or even on the floor."
"Nonsense. Sleep in the bed for tonight." He steered her carefully toward the bedroom. She was already starting to get drowsy as he helped her under the covers.
He pulled a blanket from the cedar chest at the foot of the bed and headed for the sofa. His mind raced with guilt and worry. How many people, just like this poor girl, had the Ministry stripped of their wands?