Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who added this story to your Favorites or Following list. I hope you continue to enjoy Order of Mercy.

Chapter Two

Percy pulled the collar of his cloak more securely around his chin, watching for his brother. Bill had designated The Swan in Tinworth at eleven o'clock as their meeting place. So, here he was, sitting at a corner table, hoping not to draw attention to himself.

Tinworth appeared to be a quaint English hamlet by the sea, but it was in actuality one of those few towns where Muggles and Wizards lived elbow to elbow, like Ottery St. Catchpole. Not that the Muggles had any idea that their neighbors were magical, of course, they just accepted that their town was a bit eccentric.

The tinkle of bells above the door alerted Percy to the entrance. He watched Bill enter the pub, his head tucked down and his long hair free to cover his face. This was only the fourth time Percy had seen Bill's scars up close. The first time had been shortly after the attack, in the hospital wing at Hogwarts.

Details of the Battle of the Astronomy Tower, as it was called, had reached the Ministry lightning fast. Dumbledore dead, Snape accused of his murder, Death Eaters infiltrated Hogwarts. Bill's injuries were reported almost as an afterthought, but Percy had felt as if he'd been punched in the gut.

They had always seemed invincible to him—Bill and Charlie, his elder brothers. Maybe at twenty-one-years old Percy should have known better. He had just come from the funeral of the older brothers of his best mate, Oliver Wood, after all. Two men, the same ages as Percy's own brothers, members of the Order of the Phoenix, he had known them most of his life. Yet, Bill's maiming still came as a shock to Percy.

Scrimgeour had not wasted any time in going to Hogwarts in the wake of the battle and, of course, Percy as Junior Assistant went along, as well. Not that he had been worth much to the Minister while there. Percy could only think of one other time when he had felt like that, like he had been turned inside out, and that was when Ginny had been taken to the Chamber of Secrets in sixth year.

His distraction had been obvious to the Minister. Unlike his predecessor, Scrimgeour was keenly observant and even kind, after a fashion. He had released Percy from his duties to check on his brother. Percy had lurked outside the Hospital Wing all that day, Disillusioned so that no one would see him.

He had watched as his parents trudged in and out, sometimes together, sometimes separately. It came as no surprise that Mum had been a wreck, but Dad was rather haggard himself. It had struck Percy then, how much his parents had aged in his absence, how much of a toll the war had taken on them.

He'd seen his brothers and sister as well. Ginny looked so grown up, but also tense. Ron and Hermione had been nearly inseparable, they were together every time Percy had seen them. That hadn't come as a surprise either.

Then Fred and George showed up, looking successful in their matching dragon hide coats as they walked into the Hospital Wing. They were successful, weren't they? Wildly so. One could not help but hear about their shop, see it conspicuously standing out against the drab and worn shops on Diagon Alley. They had walked into the room with their usual smiles in place, but they had left looking somber.

Finally, late in the day—night really—the parade of Weasleys had ceased. Percy ended the Disillusionment spell and crept into the Hospital Wing. Moonlight came through the tall windows and a fire glowed in the large hearth, but it was otherwise dark. He had found Bill's cot readily. The eldest Weasley brother had been asleep, or maybe even dosed with a Dreamless Sleep Draught, with the blankets pulled up to his chin and lovingly tucked in around him. Bill's face had been covered in bandages that were starkly white in the dark room. Even so, Percy could see red, raw lines here and there and the corner of Bill's mouth was being held together by Muggle stitches.

Fast asleep in the cot beside Bill's was the girl, Fleur Delacour, from the Tri Wizard Tournament. Percy had known they were engaged, yet it had been strange to see this other woman in the place that would have been Mum's otherwise. It had occurred to Percy that for all the times he had seen his family members come and go throughout the day, he had never seen Fleur until now. He surmised that she had never left his brother's side and even now, she was sleeping within arm's reach. That had seemed comforting somehow.

Percy had sat quietly at Bill's bedside for a while, watching the reassuring rise and fall of his big brother's chest. It had been there that Percy realized that it was time to go home. Oliver had been encouraging him to for some time, he'd out right berated Percy for his stubbornness in the run up to the Wood brothers' funeral. But Percy knew that he couldn't just go home. He had too much to make up for.

Through the warm glow of pub lamps, the man walking to the table now looked healthy—even if he did look like he'd been in a Care of Magical Creatures class gone horribly wrong. Bill slid into the chair opposite Percy's, a smile tugging at his mouth. Something like grief welled up in the pit of Percy's stomach and he knew it could be read on his face. He wasn't used to that, Bill's smile. It was so different from what it had been.

Bill's expression changed, his eyes carefully shuttered. "Hey, Perce, I know it takes some getting used to."

"No," Percy denied, avoiding his brother's eyes and feeling ashamed of himself.

It wasn't the physical fact of Bill's scars, it was that Percy wasn't there when it happened.

"It's okay to stare if you want," Bill said. "In fact, it would be better if you got it out of the way before you met Fleur, unless you want to be on the receiving end of her Veela temper."

Percy looked Bill in the face, pushing his glasses up. "I have met Fleur, actually. During the Tri Wizard Tournament."

Bill grinned again, a spark of brotherly camaraderie in his eyes. "Of course, I had forgotten. You and Charlie both met her before I did. I guess it's lucky for me that she has good taste, then."

Just like that, Percy felt himself relax. "I-I visited you in the Hospital Wing," he admitted.

"Yeah?" Bill asked, one brow quirking.

"I waited until everybody was gone and you were asleep. Actually, Fleur was there too, asleep in the cot next to yours."

"You didn't have to wait until the family was gone, Perce."

Percy ignored this and said, "What I really want to know is how Dad convinced Mum to let you have Muggle stitches?"

Bill touched his mouth absently, a wry look to his eyes. "The bastard nearly ripped my lip off. Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix it with magic, they even brought Healers from St. Mungo's in and they couldn't fix it either. Cursed wounds."

"That's a bit of irony, there," Percy said without a trace of humor.

But Bill laughed anyway. "The Curse Breaker with the cursed wounds? No one else seems to find the hilarity in it."

"I said it was ironic, not funny."

"I wasn't expecting Perfect Prefect Percy to think it funny, was I?"

Percy rolled his eyes. Bill was long gone from Hogwarts by the time he was a prefect. Honestly, Percy really did not feel that Bill should be able to throw the "Perfect Prefect Percy" thing at him.

"I wasn't the first Head Boy in the family," Percy reminded Bill.

"True, but I was cool."

Percy lifted one eyebrow. "Shall I write Charlie, then? Find out what he thinks of your time as Head Boy?"

"Charlie should have been smarter than to let the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team urinate on the Slytherin's brooms, girls included. Of course they were going to get caught," Bill said hotly, this was still a point of contention between the brothers. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Don't ask me," Percy said innocently. "I think it was just implied that I was not cool. How should I know?"

Bill was chuckling again. "Sure, take the piss. Let's get out of here and you can meet my wife."

"So long as we set the record straight."

"Oh, what record is that?"

"No matter what you had to put up with from Charlie—"

"Fergus Wood, too," Bill put in. "Those two could get up to a lot of trouble together."

"Fine, Fergus too," Percy conceded. "Regardless, you never had it as bad as I did with the twins."

Bill laughed. "Alright, agreed, I had it easier."

"Cheers."

The two brothers got up from the table, Percy throwing down some money for his pint. He was reminded, rather pleasantly, that some things had not changed. Maybe Bill's smile was not what it had been, but he still laughed in the same easy way. There was comfort in that, but Percy still felt anxious.

Nothing was the same as the day he walked out, Percy knew that, but the family was the same at heart. Bill was still the big brother everybody looked to, Mum still fussed over her children, the twins were still causing trouble of some sort. Yet the family had gone to war without him, Percy. Bill and George had both been maimed. Ginny, Ron, and Fred had all been in battles. And Percy was the Ministry loving prat.

Was there room for him still?

Bill clapped him on the shoulder and led him into a shadowy alley. With a quick look around, they Disapparated only to reappear on a beach. Bill trudged towards the cliffs with a "come on," and Percy followed. Soon, a cottage came into view and Percy knew without a doubt that this was Bill's home—there was a certain rightness about it.

Standing on the small back porch, her tan skirt blowing in the breeze, was Fleur Delacour—or the new Mrs. Weasley. Though Percy had met her on several occasions during the Tri Wizard Tournament, he was struck with the feeling of meeting her for the first time. The girl he had met three years ago in her blue-gray satin had seemed cold and brittle, this young woman in her earth tones was warm and calm. The smile she gave Percy, while disarming in its radiance, was almost shy.

The two brothers followed Fleur into the kitchen on a wave of accented chatter. A small feast was laid out on the lace draped kitchen table. Chicken salad, croissants, a fruit medley, asparagus in some rich looking sauce, finger sandwiches, all of it presented in pretty, floral dishes. It was so different from home, more elegant, more refined. Yet there was a familiarity to it. Maybe it was the heaps of food, as if Fleur were serving an army, or the loving care that obviously went into the meal?

Fleur motioned for Percy to sit. "Everything smells delicious," he said.

"You've outdone yourself," Bill agreed. He was standing behind Fleur, his eyes flickering briefly over the table setting. Then he touched her. Just his hand placed on her ribcage, but Fleur went a rather pretty shade of pink, her own hand perching on her collarbone like a bird.

"Merci," she murmured.

Something so hot and intimate had passed between the newlywed couple that Percy felt at once jealous and embarrassed to have witnessed it. He thought of Penelope, his only serious girlfriend. Normally his ruminations of her tended to be brooding, thinking of the rather abrupt end of their relationship. But now, for the first time in three years, he was thinking of their happier times. Percy wondered if he ever looked at Penny the way Bill was looking at Fleur now. Probably not.

He knew for certain that repressed and proper Penelope never showed the kind of emotion that was on Fleur's face as she took her seat at the table. Meanwhile, Bill pulled his hair back in a leather strap, looking perfectly normal, but as he passed Fleur, Bill's fingertips grazed her upper arm. She shivered. Percy looked away.

They all acted as if nothing happened as they ate the meal. After lunch, Bill and Percy cleared away the dishes, it felt like they were boys again. But over tea, talk grew more serious and there was no denying that they were adults living in dark times.

Percy extracted a pile of parchment from his pocket and reversed the Shrinking spell. "You have no doubt read about the Muggle-born Registration Commission," Percy said in a businesslike manner. "Have you heard of Dolores Umbridge?"

"Yes," Bill replied coldly. "Did you know about the blood quills?"

"No," Percy said, shocked, "of course not."

"Did Fudge?" Bill pressed, speaking of the Minister of Magic who preceded Scrimgeour and was Percy's former boss.

Percy hesitated, thinking of that time with Fudge, then answered honestly, "I don't know. Once I proved useless as a source of information, Fudge kept me on the outside circle. But…"

"What? Go on."

"Knowing Fudge, my guess would be that he was forcefully ignorant of the situation."

Bill nodded, seemingly satisfied. "That makes sense."

Percy cleared his throat. "Back to current events, then? I am sure that you can surmise that the so-called invitation to Muggle-borns will be compulsory. And they are bringing in Dementors."

Fleur gasped at this news.

"What?" Bill demanded, his eyes hard. "Why?"

"They are fearful people," Percy said, offering the conclusion he had come to after learning this information. "I suspect that they fear rebellion and want to keep everybody depressed and hopeless."

"That is not a good place for you to be, Percy," Bill said pointedly.

A flicker of a smile came to Percy's face. "I appreciate your concern, but I can't be any place else, can I?"

Bill crossed his arms, looking uncharacteristically petulant, but he didn't argue.

Percy shuffled through his papers, pushing his glasses up his nose. "However, I think that is just a secondary benefit of the Dementors. Look here…"

He passed the parchment to Bill. Fleur sat forward so that she could read over Bill's arm.

"They are reinforcing the guards at Azkaban and making plans to expand it," Percy surmised. "I think they plan to imprison the Muggle-borns."

There was silence all around the room as this information sunk in.

"That will be just the beginning," Bill said quietly after some time.

"I quite agree," Percy replied. "But there's more. You will undoubtedly see it in the Daily Prophet in the next few days, but Snape is to be installed as the new Headmaster at Hogwarts."

Bill stared steadily at Percy.

"Attendance will be compulsory." Percy pulled out another sheet of parchment. "And Blood Status will have to be proven."

"And if it cannot be?" Fleur asked.

"I couldn't find any definitive information on that," Percy admitted.

"Which is frightening in itself," Bill commented.

Percy nodded, pushing his glasses up needlessly. "There are many vagaries, and I fear what they are not willing to put in writing."

"But surely," Fleur said tremulously, her hands were shaking, "zey do not intend to drag eleven-year-olds off to Azkaban."

Bill covered her hands. "Shh, love."

He turned to Percy then and asked, "How did you get this information, Perce?"

"I am not in Thicknesse's inner circle, he is surrounded by Death Eaters and toady sympathizers," Percy said matter-of-factly, "but I still work in his office and I still have high clearance. Plus, I do a very good Disillusionment charm. All of these are duplicates of files found in Umbridge's office and some of it comes straight from Thicknesse's desk."

"Percy," Bill admonished, his voice was full of recrimination, but his eyes shone with admiration. "This is incredibly dangerous, what you are doing. They will kill you."

Percy laced his fingers together and looked at Bill steadily. "I know that, but I was a Gryffindor the same as you."

Bill sighed. "I do appreciate this and so will the Order, I'm just afraid for you."

"One more thing. This is just conjecture." Percy looked at Fleur. "Umbridge is a very bigoted woman. She hates all magical creatures and holds them in disdain. Once she is done with the Muggle-borns, I expect her to turn her powers on others of mixed blood."

"Like Hagrid?" Bill asked.

Percy was floundering for words. He hadn't expected Bill to miss the implications of what he had just said. He looked to Fleur, she was sitting with a very straight back, her chin angled defiantly. It was obvious that Fleur understood, and Percy was sorry if he had hurt her in anyway.

"Like me, chéri," she said quietly, placing a hand on Bill's fist.

"You're a witch," Bill insisted, looking Fleur directly in the face.

"I am a quarter Veela, I am a creature."

"Bollocks to that."

"It is true," she insisted. "My grand-mére et grand-pére had to leave Belgium to marry because she was listed as an animal by law. He could take her as a mistress, but a marriage between zem was illegal."

"It's not like you're a bowtruckle," Bill replied, he smoothed one strand of hair from her forehead with his finger.

"Non, I am not a bowtruckle, but I am not perfectly human either."

Percy cleared his throat, "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean…"

Fleur looked at him with clear, blue eyes. "Zere is nozing to be sorry for. I know what I am and I know zat I am lucky to have a wand. It is zee benefit of being beautiful, people forget zat I am really a bird."

"Are you, then?" Percy asked, fascinated despite himself.

Fleur laughed, low and throaty, her face lighting up. "Non, I am mostly witch."

"But she has a ghastly temper," Bill teased, tickling her ribs.

Fleur squirmed, shooting him a mock glare. "And you had better stop zat or I will turn my temper on you, monsieur!"

There was laughter and teasing over tea and some old biscuits that Fleur found in a cupboard. Percy couldn't remember the last time he had smiled so much, let alone laughed like this. He wondered how this laughter could even exist, in the middle of a war, after such a depressing discussion, but it did and he felt buoyed by it in no small measure.

Twilight was settling in when Bill and Fleur walked Percy to the Disapparation point. The married couple were barefoot on the beach, walking hand in hand. The waves could be heard crashing on the beach in the distance and everything was cast in comforting, sleepy shadow. It occurred to Percy that he felt at peace in that moment.

"This is a wonderful place you have," he told his brother, looking back at the house.

Bill offered his hand and the two men shook. "Come around again, Percy, you don't need an excuse."

Fleur stepped forward and hugged him. "You are always welcome in our home."

oOo

Later that night, Fleur lie snuggled into Bill's chest. He was sleeping and she was glad. The full moon would be here soon, he would need his strength. Yet, sleep eluded her. She could not stop thinking of all that Percy had told them about the Muggle-borns. She thought of Ted Tonks, alone and afraid, wandering England hoping to avoid capture. She thought of Andromeda Tonks, also alone and afraid, wondering where her husband was.

Fleur could not stop thinking about how she could have helped the Tonkses if she had known.

Beneath her, Bill stirred. His head thrashed on the pillow and his muscles tensed. Fleur sat up slightly to look at him. In the silvery moonlight, she could see the pinched look on his face, though he was still asleep, gripped in the nightmare. The nightmares came and went, but they grew stronger as the full moon neared.

"Shit…" Bill muttered.

"Shh, shh," Fleur hushed, tracing the scars across his face. "It is just a bad dream, mon Bill."

"Merlin…Dougal…no…"

So. It was this nightmare. Fleur was not surprised. In April, Bill witnessed his dearest friends killed battling Death Eaters. It had shaken him, even more than the attack by Greyback. He felt such guilt at having recruited them to the Order.

Fleur hummed French lullabies and stroked his hair. Finally, Bill quieted, a sheen of sweat on his body. Still, sleep would not come for Fleur as she stared at the ceiling. He'd hated it when she volunteered to help bring Harry from his aunt and uncle's home. Bill had not said it aloud, but she could see the ghosts of Dougal and Fergus Wood in his eyes when he looked at her.

After their wedding, in this very room, Fleur had asked to join the Order of the Phoenix in full. It had been their first fight as man and wife.

"The wedding was only the beginning, Fleur," Bill said, he sat on the bed with his hands fisted on his thighs. "Things are only going to get more dangerous from here."

"Do you zink I do not know?" Fleur demanded. "I watched our beautiful wedding burn!"

Bill gritted his teeth.

"What are you not saying?"

"I don't want you in the Order," he said slowly, hiding his eyes from her. "Maybe you should return home."

"I am home. Zis is my home." Fleur took a step closer to him, trying to see the emotion in his eyes.

Bill sighed, looking tired and exasperated. "You know what I mean."

"I am not a fragile flower. I can fight."

"I know." He looked up, but still did not look at her. "But I don't want you to."

"Zen come wiz me," Fleur demanded, "to France. Be safe wiz me."

Bill glared at her then. They both knew that was not an option. His eyes narrowed, he was accusing her of the great crime of not fighting fair, but Fleur did not care. She knew where she belonged, it was wherever Bill was. War be damned.

"You know," she said then, "that I do not fight only for you. Cedric was my friend. He was one of zee few people to ever be kind to me and not expect anyzing from it. Harry, he is my friend too…And zat Death Eater who pretended to be Mad-Eye, he attacked me and manipulated me. I have reasons."

"I know," Bill relented, his jaw clenched.

"And I am a Weasley now, am I not?"

He straightened. "Of course you are," he said defiantly.

"Zen I am brave," she said, invading his space. "I fight for my family and my husband, oui?"

And then Bill had kissed her long and hard. Fleur could feel his anger and frustration, but also his love for her. He knew her vulnerabilities and her flaws, but it was her strength that fired his blood. She knew that.

As Fleur watched Bill sleep beside her in their bed, it was her strengths that she was contemplating. Fleur had little control over her Veela magic, which was paltry in comparison to her mother's, but she was a brilliant and powerful witch. She had believed in her abilities when she could not believe in anything else about herself. Until the second task of the Tri Wizard Tournament.

She had panicked when attacked by the grindylows, she had failed Gabrielle. It was her greatest shame and it shook her to her core. Then the events of the third task left her trembling and vulnerable with few who she could turn to. Madame Maxime was not the nurturing type, and Fleur had few friends amongst the Beauxbatons students. In fact, she had no friends.

Audrey, at the time a Ravenclaw seventh year, had been the first to befriend her. She was a pretty girl, but not beautiful. Yet, she showed no jealousy of Fleur, something she had never experienced with another female. Audrey became her first friend.

Soon, Audrey was followed by Viktor and Cedric, her fellow Champions. Viktor was immune to Veela, there was a colony near his home in Bulgaria, so Fleur's trivial charms were nothing to him. Besides, not only was he interested in a different witch, he was as accustomed as Fleur to the unwanted attention of the opposite sex.

Cedric, on the other hand, seemed somewhat awestruck by her. Then one day, when Fleur caught him staring at her, he had blushed and looked away.

"Sorry about that," he said. "You must get that a lot and it can't be very comfortable, can it?"

Fleur had never met somebody willing to empathize with her before, so she let her guard down and was rewarded with a sweet friendship.

In the wake of Cedric's death, Fleur had turned to Audrey and sometimes Viktor. But Viktor was as shaken as she was, and very angry. It was harder to find comfort from him.

The Tournament had taken the heart out of Fleur. She second-guessed her abilities, her instincts. Even after finding out about the Order of the Phoenix, Fleur had not pressed to join for fear that she would panic again. But she had handled herself well during the Battle of the Seven Potters, and again at the wedding. It was with a reawakening confidence that she asked to join the Order. And it was with a heavy heart that Bill had cleared the path for her.

Now, Fleur wondered if the Order of the Phoenix was the place she belonged in the fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Maybe there was something else she should be doing.