Now... To my new readers, welcome; to my old readers, welcome back! This is my Drabble a Day, though, strictly speaking, it's more likely to be a Work a Week, as these are far too long to be drabbles and too short, in my opinion, to be one-shots, and I will probably not get them done in one day... Who knows, I might change the title.
If any readers of my Warriors stories happen to be here, I am incredibly sorry that I haven't updated in such a while. I do have a massive case of writer's block, which is why I am writing this; to get rid of it. I promise, I will get back to my other stories as soon as I can!
So, without further ado, let me present Chapter 1 of A Drabble a Day.
"Thanks, Aberforth." A small sigh of relief escaped him, before his thoughts turned back to the battle he had just found out about, which was surely raging on behind the tunnel. "I'll be on my way." The barman nodded, sweeping his long, wire-grey hair, his blue eyes serious behind the dirty glasses. He turned away, starting towards the filthy tankards he had been trying to clean. Then, he turned back, abruptly.
"You've made bad decisions, Weasley," he started, staring at the red-head. "But you've been making up for them with your efforts to make things right. I appreciate that, and I hope your family does too." A pause, then: "Get along now, if you want to help them."
Percy nodded awkwardly at the man who looked so much like the man whom the Ministry had slandered before they knew the truth about Voldemort. He tried to say something, opening his mouth, then closing it again. He would be forever grateful towards the man, for letting him know about the battle, and for forgiving him for his mistakes, even though Percy had not wronged him personally. He just hoped for the same kind of forgiveness from his family. Then, he straightened his now slightly battered horn-rimmed glasses, turned and clambered into the shadows of the tunnel.
He found steps, right after the entrance, smooth and worn, indicating that the passage had been there for many years and, by the looks of it, used often recently. Light flickered from brass lamps hanging from the wall, dimly lighting up the earthy floor. Percy quickened his pace, anxious to get to the school he had loved, the place where his family was. His footsteps echoed off the cold stone walls, amplifying and multiplying them until they seemed to fill the entire tunnel.
Over the past months, ever since Thicknesse had become Minister for Magic, Percy had fully realised the depth of the hole the wizarding world was in. Under Rufus Scrimgeour, he had kept his position as Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, but once Thicknesse had risen to power, acting as You-Know-Who's puppet, Percy had been cast out of that position, and regarded with deep scrutiny due to his family. Increasingly vulnerable at every turn, he had tried to look supportive of the Ministry's new plans, forcing himself to ignore the Muggle-borns carted off to Azkaban each week.
The tunnel sloped upwards and Percy, lost in his thoughts, banged his head on the roof. Wincing, he ducked under the jutting outcrop of rock and continued upwards, panting as the slope became steeper. Black shadows danced along the walls, rippling slightly.
Managing to contact Aberforth, the barman of the Hogsmeade pub, the Hog's Head, had been difficult, and gaining his trust even more so. His pride had almost stopped him trying several times, but he persisted, until Aberforth trusted him, or rather, no longer regarded him with suspicion. Five minutes ago, the barman had contacted the red-head, tipping him off about a battle against You-Know-Who at Hogwarts, and Percy had Apparated into the Hog's Head immediately.
The path became suddenly steeper and ahead, Percy saw the tunnel vanish around a corner, a faint light illuminating the passageway from beyond, causing him to break into a sprint, running towards it in an attempt to reach his family. He rounded the corner and almost flew up the steps, before tripping and falling hard with a thump.
Slightly dizzy, he overbalanced and fell, shooting out a hand to break his fall onto the carpeted floor. Pulling himself up by the nearest chair, he looked around, gasping for breath and pushing his askew glasses straight. "Am I too late?" He clutched the stitch in his side as he surveyed to room wildly. "Has it started?" He had to know if his family was alright. "I only just found out, so I – I – "
He glanced up and spluttered into silence. There, right before him, stood his family, with the exceptions of Charlie and Ron. Standing around them were three other people, one of whom he recognised as Professor Lupin, his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in his final year at Hogwarts. Another, he realised with a jolt, was Harry, and the third, a beautiful woman who had her arm around Bill's shoulders, had to be Fleur Delacour, or Weasley as she might be now.
He stared hungrily at the people around him, trying to take them all in. His mother and Ginny, who appeared to be in the middle of an argument; the twins, looking at him with confused expressions; Bill and his wife, Fleur; Professor Lupin, looking as shabby as ever; Harry Potter, with an expression of shock on his face; and right at the back, his father.
There was a pregnant and very awkward pause, during which Percy gawked at his family uncomfortably, not having expected to run into them so soon. Fleur made an attempt to break the silence, though it did nothing to ease the tension. "So – 'ow eez leetle Teddy?" she asked Lupin, who blinked at her.
Percy carried on staring at his family, frozen to the spot, as they stared back at him; he could see tears in his mother's eyes, could almost feel the coolness from the twins. "I – oh yes – he's fine!" Lupin almost shouted back, as though raising the volume would fill the gap between Percy and his family. "Yes, Tonks is with him – at her mother's." Percy was still rooted to the spot, trying to open his mouth, but no words would come.
"Here, I've got a picture!" Lupin pulled out what appeared to be a photograph of a tuft of turquoise hair with a baby attached, showing it to Fleur and Harry, but Percy had found his voice.
"I was a fool!" he bellowed, not sure who we was talking to exactly, but knowing that he had to make himself heard. "I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a – "
"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron," finished Fred for him. Percy stared at him, the brother who had first disowned him.
"Yes," he said, swallowing his pride. "I was."
Fred looked him up and down, inspecting him, before holding out a hand, baffling Percy. "Well, you can't say fairer than that." Percy stared at it in astonishment, scarcely believing his eyes. He had only a moment to ponder whether this was a dream or not before he was pulled into a bone-crushing hug from his mother. He patted her on the back awkwardly, lifting his gaze to the man whom he had disagreed with so fervently, tears starting to spring to his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Dad," he told him thickly, trying to choke back tears. Arthur Weasley stared for a moment, blinking, before hurrying to embrace his son too.
"What made you see sense, Perce?" questioned George, as his parents stepped away, and Percy figured he owed his family the truth.
"It's been coming on for a while," he began, using the corner of his cloak to wipe his watery eyes. "But I had to find a way out and it's not so easy at the Ministry, they're imprisoning traitors all the time. I managed to make contact with Aberforth and he tipped me off ten minutes ago that Hogwarts was going to make a fight of it, so here I am."
"Well, we do look to our prefects to take a lead at times such as these." George imitated Percy's voice at its most pompous, causing Percy to stifle a sob of relief at hearing his brother joke as always, even at his expense. Feeling that this might be the last time he saw her, he hurried over to Fleur and shook her hand.
"So, you're my sister-in-law now?" he asked, as they, Bill and the twins made their way towards the staircase.
"Yes, we were married in August, ze evening Monsieur Scrimgeour was killed," she informed him, a little haughtily.
They proceeded down the stairs, and split up, George, Bill and Fleur one way, Percy and Fred the other. "So," said Percy, trying to keep up with his brother's quick strides. "What are we doing?"
"Protecting the passageways in and out of the school. George, Bill and Fleur will take three and we'll take the other two. There are seven ways out, but one's caved in, so that's no good, and the other one is under the Whomping Willow."
"I believe we should still put defences around it," Percy panted, as Fred broke into a jog. "It could be blasted open probably, so we should check on it and put some basic protection around it, just in case." Fred gave a nod.
"We'll check on it after we've done the passageway on the fifth floor, behind that Statue of Gregory the Smarmy. Then we're doing the passageway to Honeydukes on the third floor." He glanced at Percy, whose eyebrows had raised slightly. "You don't seem very surprised that I know where they are and where they lead to."
"The house-elves don't make Butterbeer, so the only place you could have got it from in your fifth year is from Hogsmeade," remarked Percy. "You weren't supposed to sneak out, you know." He frowned. "Especially not after curfew, and that was the year Black was on the prowl." Fred's jaw clenched and he hurried onwards, down a flight of stairs and along a corridor.
"Sirius was innocent," he said shortly. "Even Fudge knew that by the end. He was Harry's godfather and gave us a place for headquarters. He was a good man, and a prankster through and through."
They hurried on in silence after that, speaking only to cast spells to protect the entrances of the passages. As they muttered under their breath and ran from place to place, Percy's only thought was wishing that they would all get through this alive.
"Duck!" yelled Percy, pulling Fred out of the way of a flash of green light, pulling him down a fraction. Curse after curse flew towards them and spell after spell they shot back, ducking, dodging and weaving as they fought black-robed, hooded figure after figure. They backed around a corner, bellowing spells as they went, jets of light darting everywhere. He heard people running to help, saw spells fly from behind them as he and Fred battled a Death Eater each. The man Percy was duelling backed off quickly and, as he did so, his hood slipped and Percy recognised him.
"Hello, Minister!" he roared, sending a Stinging Jinx towards his former boss. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"
"You're joking, Perce!" Fred called back, as his Death Eater fell as several Stunning Spells hit him at once. Percy, who was busy sending a sea urchin jinx at Thicknesse, did not reply.
Fred whooped. "You actually are joking, Perce... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were – " But when the last time Percy joked was, he never found out. The air tore apart, catapulting them as the wall to their right exploded inwards. Screams and shouts ripped through the air as Percy landed with a thud, rolled over and got up.
Then, he beheld a terrible sight. In the wreckage of the wall lay an unmoving, red-haired body. Letting out a howl of pain and misery, he sprinted towards it. Ron was already there, leaning over Fred's body. "No – no – no!" his brother called out. "No! Fred! No!" Percy shook the limp figure, as though it would rouse it from the eternal sleep that had taken it. For there, the smile still on his face, lay Fred Weasley, unmistakably dead.
Percy felt numb. His body felt as though it had been turned to stone, his voice would not obey him, and all he could think of was that he wished he had made it up properly with his brother before this, that he had never left his family in the first place. Fred was gone, and there was nothing he could do. It was all his fault. If he'd not pulled Fred into this corridor, if he had not told Thicknesse he was resigning, if only...
Even when curses flew into the corridor, narrowly missing them, Percy's only through was to protect Fred's body, the last of him that remained. He heard someone, Harry Potter, shouting "Percy, come on, we've got to move!" he shook his head. He would not leave Fred's body here to be trampled and crushed in the heat of battle. He would not leave him.
"Percy!" Ron's voice was breaking as he pulled at Percy's shoulders, trying to move him. "Percy, you can't do anything for him! We're going to – " A scream erupted from behind him as a large shape came into view, the size of Dad's old car, but still Percy did not care. He leaned over Fred and wept, tears sliding down his face.
Harry's arm looped under one of Fred's arms, trying to drag him, and Percy stood and took the other; together, they dragged Fred out of the way, ducking beneath spells and pulling his lifeless form into a niche in the wall. They hid it with a few blocks of stone and, when Percy straightened, he saw a tall man whom he recognised, chasing some students. "ROOKWOOD!" he roared and, leaving the others behind, pursued him, with only one thought in mind: avenge Fred.
The rest of the battle passed in a daze. Witches and wizards fell as Percy ploughed through, duelling fiercely, adrenaline coursing through his body as he fought hooded and masked figures. He cared not who they were, not whether they were true Death Eaters or imperiused. All he cared about was fighting for Fred. When Voldemort's voice echoed through the castle, his first action was to take Fred from the place they had hidden him and lay him in the Great Hall. He could barely say what had happened when George, with a cry that no physical pain could cause, a cry that tore Percy's heart apart into a million pieces and scattering the shreds, rushed to Fred's side and knelt at his head, trying to revive him.
As the rest of his family arrived, his parents followed by Bill, Fleur and Ginny, none of their faces caused him as much grief as the look on George's as he stared wordlessly at his twin's corpse. When Ron reappeared, Percy couldn't stop himself from flinging an arm around his shoulders. The thought of losing two brothers in one go was unbearable, and Ron could so nearly have died in the explosion that killed Fred.
The respite passed quickly; it did not feel like an hour to Percy, who sat next to Fred's sprawled figure, his family sharing in his grief, constantly checking his watch. But after an hour, when all stood ready, poised to fight, nobody came. No Death Eaters, no beasts, no Voldemort. Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. Then, when all were beginning to hope that You-Know-Who had been defeated, his terrible voice rang out over them all.
"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone." Mum gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth. Hermione let out a small wail, whilst Ron looked as though he had just been clubbed by a troll.
"The battle is won. You have lost half your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Percy gave a disbelieving frown. Surely, surely nobody would believe You-Know-Who? Though he had not known Harry that well, he knew he was no coward and would not have run away. As for You-Know-Who sparing those who bowed before him and their families? He doubted it. Realising that most of the Hall had leapt up, hurrying towards the doors, he followed, seeing Ron, Ginny and Hermione sprint towards the doors.
"NO!" He heard his old head of House's voice rip through the air, a sound of pure despair, followed by voices he recognised more easily.
"No!"
"No!"
"Harry! HARRY!"
Percy dashed outside with the rest of the throng, who were almost crushing each other to get outside. As he saw, lying motionless in Hagrid's arms, the limp figure of Harry Potter, the last shred of hope died within him.
All through You-Know-Who's speeches about winning, Percy's hands shook numbly as he took in the fact that Harry, the Boy Who Lived, lived no more. Even when Ron' voice broke through the silencing spell, even when a boy Percy recognised as Ron's former roommate at Hogwarts broke through and had the flaming Sorting Hat placed on his head, he could not move.
It was only when a small giant roared in the distance, and met its brethren, and when the oncoming herd of centaurs galloped into battle, that he could move again. Holding aloft his wand, he turned to face the Death Eaters, ready to fight for Fred, for Harry, for Professor Lupin and for the countless others who had died for the cause, and the one he was ready to die for too.
Percy did not know how he survived the battle, or most of the events that happened during it. He only remembered backing into the Great Hall, with house elves attacking the feet and ankles of Death Eaters in a blur, and duelling with his father to bring down Thicknesse, whose partial transfiguration seemed to have been lifted. He remembered the duel between his mother and Bellatrix Lestrange as they fought to the death, the imprint of the terrible expression on his mum's face seared into his memory.
He remembered that one, final moment, when Who-Know-Who's Killing Curse and Harry's Disarming Charm met and the flash of green light rebounded back to Voldemort and he fell, splayed to the floor, and did not rise. And Percy, for the first time in a long while, felt at peace.