Redemption of the Phoenix (1?)
Rating: PG 13
Pairing(s): Percy/Tonks (eventually); Remus/Petunia, Percy/Petunia (unrequited)
Disclaimer: JKR, mistress and queen of the universe, owns everything about Harry Potter: I am merely playing in her universe, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Warning: This is part 2 of the Phoenix Quartet. It picks up after Hope of the Phoenix. It is essential to read that fic first in order to be able to follow the plot of this part!
A/N: Hi everyone! To those devoted fans of Hope of the Phoenix… Welcome to Part Two! And thanks for all the lovely reviews of Chapter 21 of that fic! To any new readers, welcome! I hope you read Hope of the Phoenix first (see warning, above), and that you all enjoy part 2…
This fic, like Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, grew in the telling. When I began Hope of the Phoenix, I intended it to be a simple romance story of around ten chapters. However, a plot slipped in: one that required four stories to tell! Consequently, these next few fics are not as thoroughly planned out… so, if there is something you would like to see, let me know in a review, and I'll do my best to fit it in, either in this part, or in parts 3 or 4!
Anyway, enough out of me! My beta, Tsuchi, who is reading this over my shoulder, says to: "Shut up and get on with the story!" And, lest it be said that I don't listen to my beta…
Chapter 1:
"Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy Birthday, Harry and Neville, Happy Birthday to you!"
The polyphony of voices swelled up from the hard wooden table in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, the glow from a multitude of candles on two expansive confections…well, Percy supposed that they should properly be called cakes, but as they far out did even his mother's previous record, that label was as inappropriate as calling the Colossus at Rhodes a statue.
Percy swallowed, and tried very hard to focus on all of the sparkling fairy-lights that his mother had used to decorate the birthday cakes; he tried very hard not to notice how her eyes were sparkling, how bright her laugh was, how her fiancé's arm was resting comfortably around her waist... no, he was not looking at that, not at all. He was happy that she was happy. He was, really; what sort of friend would he be if he weren't?
He turned, heading for the table – he could at least replenish his plate; he had really missed his mother's cooking – when he found himself on his back on the floor, and he heard the plate skidding across the floor; he was covered in extremely embarrassed auror-oh, joy, his favourite kind.
"Wotcher, Perce" she giggled, as she pulled herself up. She reached down a hand to help him up, a hand with purple nails, he thought irritably, but he must weigh more than she'd expected, because as soon as she started to pull him up, she lost her balance, and, once more, in a tangle of arms and legs, they were on the ground.
"Are you all right? Percy, Tonks?" Petunia's carefully manicured hand, with its sparkling engagement ring, reached down to help pull them up, her voice, full of concern and tenderness.
"Fine, nothing to worry about" Percy muttered. He could feel his face turning its usual bright red. Petunia was holding Remus' hand again. Really, Percy thought, for the fourteenth time that afternoon, he should have left after the Order meeting. It wasn't as if Harry really wanted him there...of course, his mum would have killed him; but right now, death was looking like a pretty attractive option.
"Here's your plate, Perce." A twin, Percy couldn't be bothered to notice which one it was handed him a plate of cake, with a clean fork on it. He took it, trying to regulate his breathing, trying to pretend that everyone in the Order (and several who weren't) hadn't just seen him knocked over, twice; and took a bite.
And promptly turned into a cat.
The cat that had been Percy howled, and ran to hide under a chair, watching as Tonks and the twins, as nearly everyone, burst into laughter. Petunia looked disapproving, though, which was the only possible consolation for this perfectly horrible day.
That night, alone in his flat once more, Percy paced around the room. His week's holidays would be over the next day, and he would go back to being Fudge's lackey, Ministry Toady and all round git. He felt uneasy in his skin, jumpy. He wasn't sure he wanted to be Percy Weasley anymore.
He couldn't afford to be like this, couldn't afford to doubt himself; he, who had never doubted in his life. There was far, far too much at stake. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to be still, focusing on the sharp burst of pain as his nails dug into his palm. If he gave into despair...well, he couldn't not now, not with You-know-who's plan already so close to being successful.
He felt the same flash of panic seize his heart that he had felt on the day of the fake conference – was it only a month ago? He felt his throat burning, and his eyes prickling. He'd looked up to find Petunia gone. He saw the empty head table once more; he saw Penelope lying in the Hospital Wing, curly hair spread across the pillow, staring, unseeing, at the ceiling; he heard Professor McGonagall saying that Ginny had been taken by the monster. He saw Ron emerge from the Lake, and felt once more the stab of fear, his little brother had almost been killed.
He had to stop this: he'd already ruined enough with his stupidity. He couldn't afford to mess this up, either. The Order was depending on him; him and Tonks, his father and Kingsley, to free Fudge from You-know-who's control and to get the Ministry completely on side. He couldn't afford to be side tracked, distracted.
Not by fear, not by embarrassed pride... Not by the fact he'd fallen in love with his only friend, the only person who had ever truly understood him – a very, very engaged woman nearly twice his age, who was also friends with his mother.
He groaned, and started pacing once more. Yes, he really, really didn't want to be Percy Weasley anymore.