Hot off the press now that finals and projects are done. I'm literally uploading this from a bus, so be in awe of my devotion... or not. It's really not that great an endeavor.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and co.
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"While I'd be the first to say that Lockhart knows what he's doing," Percy stared at the booklist incredulously, "This is a little overboard." Molly was tsking idly over his shoulder at the lists, but didn't interject. He had everyone's annual Hogwarts letters spread over the dining room table (to Ginny's dismay, as she'd prefer to fawn over hers a bit longer) and was tapping the large chunk devoted to every one of Lockhart's adventure books. "We're getting one set," he decided, "and we'll bloody well read them aloud if we have to, to finish them before the year starts."
"We can look through the thrift stores, and get some doubles," Bill hedged, crossing his arms with a huff, "Why pick this year to abruptly develop an appreciation for good fiction?"
"It's hardly fiction, but, I do believe they're been a bit sensationalised," Percy murmured off-handedly, as the two of them trailed off into their own thoughts, eyes locked on the letters spread before them. "We could make temporary copies," Percy suggested, there wasn't a copyright spell yet that didn't take at least 24 hours to take effect, and it wasn't as if they were stealing the book, or distributing it, which were what was actually against the law, "Especially since someone promised Ginny an owl."
"Errol is practically dead and she agreed to both letting the family have use and just getting the one big present," Bill defended, and when Percy's only response was a raised eyebrow, deflated. "We'll look at the second-hand bookstores first and then we'll consider it if we can't get two sets for a reasonable price." Percy nodded with half a smirk; looking wouldn't hurt anything, after all.
"Help," came a plaintive voice, and Ginny was leaning on Bill's arm, a lopsided, half-done braid in her hair. She looked up at him with big, pleading eyes, "I can't reach behind my head to do my braid."
"What about a ponytail?" Bill suggested, shiftily, and she pouted, not accepting the substitution as equal, "You look nice in a ponytail, Ginny."
"Bill, we're going to Diagon today and it's my birthday," she explained matter-of-factly, the pout sliding out of her tone, "I can't be a mess." Bill muttered something about sisters under his breath and tried again.
"The ghoul will likely eat anyone who even thinks you look a mess," he placated, and she huffed dramatically, the reminder that he'd already given into quite a lot she'd wanted today sliding off her like water off a duck's back. Percy still had no clue what it was about Ginny batting big, teary eyes at Bill that had him scrambling to appease her. He should know by now Ginny had complete control of her own tear ducts.
"I got it," Percy interjected, taking Ginny by the shoulders and sitting her down sideways on a chair. With all the practice braiding and weaving he was getting lately, he had her hair done in a snap, "Ribbon?" She supplied it, and he tied off the braid, patting the bow to let her know she was done, "Alright. Get your brothers going, will you? We'll be leaving soon."
"Your brothers, again," she pointed out, but slipped from the room merrily enough, presumably to obey, checking her hair by feel as she left.
"That is weird phrasing," Bill agreed, turning to Percy once she was gone, but let it drop at the first sign of ever higher raised eyebrows, lifting his hands in surrender and turning back to Percy's spread of materials, re-focusing, "What potions supplies can we supplement from the forest?"
At that moment, a wet sound, like a large, viscous bubble popping, could be heard, followed by a cry, "Everything's fine!"
Percy met Bill's eyes wryly, "Ask the twins."
After executive decisions were made and a whirlwind of preparatory activity, they were making second-checks at the floo, as Percy scrubbed agitatedly with his sleeve at an equally aggrieved George's face, and Bill checked feet for appropriate shoes.
"I'm clean enough," George groaned, pushing Percy's hand from his smokey face, "Everyone's sooty after a floo, anyway."
"Come on, then!" Ginny was practically vibrating in place, and surprisingly, Fred was the one holding her down, her usual cohorts of Ron and Harry off with the fairies again – figuratively, that is. She tugged at Bill's robes with a winning smile, "We don't want to spend all day, do we?"
"Alright, we're going, already," Bill conceded with a grin for her impatience, "Everyone has their list?" The chorus of affirmatives that answered him had him nodding and they were finally off. Their little crowd stopped in at Gringotts, again given suspiciously little trouble with the ghoul meandering along behind Percy at its greatest height, having eventually grasped bipedal motion with its new arrangement of limbs. The previously hopping, skittering quadrupedal mess now lurched forward on its back legs as if in a constant lunge towards the nearest victim. Honestly, Percy just enjoyed being able to walk down Diagon without pushing his way through. The opinion of strangers meant little to him.
"Can we meet Hermione at Fortescue's at eleven?" Ron piped up once they'd been through a few shops, intimidating shopkeepers and patrons alike and actually getting some good haggling credit out of the sheer bulk of purchase and the presence of the ghoul. Big, hopeful eyes shot at Percy and Bill, but Percy wasn't having it.
"You couldn't have brought this up yesterday?" He asked dryly, Ron trotting beside them as Ginny clambered up behind onto the ghoul's shoulders, as was her right as Reigning Birthday Queen, and prompting Percy to add, "Plus, it's your sister's birthday."
"Ginny's alright with it," Ron replied immediately, calling up to her, "Right, Gin?"
"Whatever!" she called back cheerfully, swaying from side to side with the ghoul's gait and waving merrily at random passers-by from her perch.
Percy's eyes could not physically roll any more emphatically. Planning was a near-mythical thing in the Weasley household, but he was certain Ron had to actually try to be quite so forgetful.
"If the birthday girl's fine with it, it's fine with me," Bill distractedly gritted out, physically restraining Fred and George from approaching a shady stand on the edge of Knockturn promising perfect luck for thieves and burglars that would clearly be raided by the Aurors by day's end, "You two aren't even thieves!"
"We could be," Fred said seriously, wriggling and twisting in an attempt to free his arm, "You just won't let us."
"We could be glorious," George put in, though he'd visibly given up. He still spread a hand before him in an expansive gesture, "Our money troubles gone like frost in the summer."
"That's right poetic, Gred," Fred stopped struggling to compliment, wiping a single, imaginary tear from his eye, "It speaks straight deep down to the heart of me."
"Thank you, Forge," he responded gravely, "I try."
Having reached his quota of twin for the day, Percy turned to the younger Weasleys and Harry, "There's a couple of things we'll have to get at Flourish and Blott's; you can stay here and help Bill, or we can go grab them quickly before the Lockhart book signing starts and the store becomes a war zone."
"I'll go," Harry shrugged, and Ron was right behind him, if reluctantly. He never really liked shopping for books.
The Birthday Queen felt the need to make a scene, however. "Onward," she declared, chopping her hand forward through the air, "To victory."
"Yes, happy birthday, Ginny, we're all so glad you've survived another year," Ron mumbled, and received a foot to the shoulder as Ginny "accidentally" slipped down the ghoul's back far enough to reach, "Ow, hey!"
"No kicking," Percy scolded automatically, "And don't be a prat, Ron." While he thought he heard takes one to know one from the boy, Percy wasn't willing to get into an argument for a passing jab and let it go.
"It was an accident," Ginny pouted, abruptly all wide eyes and rainbows, as the Queen faded back to make room for exaggerated innocence.
A snort, and Percy shook his head, "Let's get going."
When they made it to Flourish and Blott's, the store was already packed, a crowd milling in and out the entrance, clogging the center of the store, where it appeared Lockhart had shown up early. His outfit was a bit gaudy, almost garish, but Percy supposed such a decorated explorer could wear what he liked while he was back in the midst of civilization. Perhaps mucking around all the time made him appreciate the finer things in life when he had them. It wasn't Percy's business.
The ghoul, however, proved its ongoing worth, and as people caught sight of it, the crowd parted like sheep before a wolf. Yet, the presence of Lockhart kept the movement more excited than nervous, as girls squealed at the celebrity instead of shrieking at the ghoul, and Percy and his hanger's-on thusly waded through towards the shelves with less trouble than they might have had, each with their own search and retrieve missions.
"What's this?" A voice called out dramatically, "A graveyard ghoul? Have at thee, beast!" Ah, Percy had spoken too soon. A space cleared between Lockhart, who had been speaking, and the ghoul, who was still carrying Ginny on its back and tilted its head at him curiously. "A hostage!" His wand was brandished with a flourish, and Percy stepped between the two before this could get any more out of hand.
"That's my familiar," he then calmly, slowly pointed up at Ginny, who waved, looking a bit star-struck and thus of no help at all, "And that's my sister. They're fine." Most people, seeing the ghoul placidly following his subgroup of Weasleys, could connect the dots. Magical creatures following a family were either enchanted or familiars, after all. Still, Percy knew it was hard to turn off battle paranoia, of which Lockhart likely had heaps more than Bill.
"Ah," Lockhart straightened, and gave him a dashing smile, extending a hand, "No hard feelings, eh?"
Percy shook it, "Of course not, sir. I admire your readiness."
Catching sight of something over Percy's shoulder, Lockhart froze in the handshake, "Is that- Oh, my stars, it's Harry Potter!" He rushed past Percy and shook Harry's hand with a great deal more vigor, motioning in his photographer, who began snapping photos, "Harry Potter, himself, come to get his copy of Magical Me!" He ushered Harry with him up to the stage, who, pardon the wording, appeared rather harried, and Percy had to choke back a laugh. Lockhart announced he would be giving Harry a set of his books, free of charge, before Harry murmured something to him, looking sly, and the announcement changed to Harry and his friends, which made Percy actually laugh. It looked like heroes could be star-struck as well. Of course, then Lockhart declared his appointment as the Defense Professor, and, really, Percy approved, clapping along with the rest of them. While Quirrell hadn't been a stuttering wreck as a Muggle Studies Professor, as Defense he'd been a bit… lacking, not to speak ill of the dead – even if he had been a thief.
"That'll be a nightmare," Ron muttered to Harry when he'd been deposited back among them, and Percy huffed.
"Honestly, don't degrade the man before you've seen him teach," Percy berated mildly, "I'm sure Headmaster Dumbledore knows what he's doing hiring a decorated hero and Dark creature hunter for the spot."
"Him?" Ron asked, looking sceptical as they moved into the shelves.
"Never judge a book by its cover," Percy teased, and his siblings groaned in unison.
"No puns on my birthday," Ginny commanded imperially, sitting upright and sticking her nose in the air, "Her Royal Birthdayness demands it."
Sketching a bow, Percy replied gravely, "Of course, my Queen." He straightened, "Now get moving or Bill will catch up to us with the twins." Needless to say, they scattered after their respective goals. Unfortunately, Bill eventually did catch up with them alone and explained that the twins had skipped their leash and were who-knows-where in the Alley, so they gathered what they had in order to hurry through the purchase. At the register, however, they were loaded down with four sets of Lockhart's books, which was more than enough, and Lockhart bee-lined over to sign Harry's, and then inevitably the rest of them.
"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name," he grinned down at Ginny, who had clambered down to the ground in order to receive her autograph personally, and she blushed marvellously. Percy wondered idly if Ginny would be infatuated with every wizard associated with heroic action that crossed her path. At least, he could rest assured she wasn't into Dark Arts.
When Lockhart finished the rest of the signatures, he turned to Percy expectantly, Ron and Harry over-exaggeratedly examining the extravagant loops of his signature just out of his sight. "Percy Weasley," Percy supplied, knowing it was silly to turn down an autograph from a man giving you something for free, though he'd never quite seen the point of autographs in the first place. It was just a short message and a person's name, scrawled in their hand. While it had some magical significance, there was very little value in that type of thing for anything kind.
"Percy," Lockhart echoed, scrawling it with a flourish, "You have quite an interesting familiar. Does it have a name?"
"Sir Cuddles," Ginny giggled from out of sight and they both glanced over in surprise before Percy snorted and Bill, off to the side, covered his face with his hand.
"No, it does not," he replied, giving Ginny a brief mock-glare, "I hadn't thought of it, really."
"Well, names do have power," Lockhart signed the next book absently, "They take and give." Finished with the last in the set, he presented them to Percy with another unnecessary flourish, who slid them without ceremony into his cauldron.
"Thank you, sir," Percy bowed slightly, making Lockhart duck his head belatedly in response, and the Weasley crowd hurried from the store, the crowd parting before them until they smacked into someone who evidently didn't move out of the way of things.
"Weasleys," the tall, blond man sneered, and Bill spat, his back a long line of tension, "Mr. Malfoy."
"I heard about Arthur," Malfoy drawled, "Such a… shame. And Molly, too, I suppose."
"You suppose," Bill echoed, his fists tightening at his sides, knuckles white and mouth slipping into a snarl.
"My condolences, in any case," Malfoy swept his cane to the side as if to sweep away his own words, and stepped calmly to the side, "Please."
They walked past him with sidelong glances and outright glares, Ginny stumbling on the edge of his cane before Malfoy caught her and set her going again without a word, making her brothers tense at the contact.
"Are you alright?" Percy asked her lowly, as they exited the store, and she nodded, looking a little shaky but otherwise unfazed.
"I'm fine," she assured him, and it was Percy's turn to nod as she reclaimed her ghoulish throne and they hurried to find Fred and George before they unleashed unspeakable havoc on the Alley. They managed to follow the colors, in the end, as a series of multicolored and unhappy Alley patrons mixed into the usual bustle. It was incredibly irresponsible of them to test anything on unwilling participants, much less as randomly as it seemed they were working.
Bill and Percy grabbed an ear each, dragging the twins out from their hiding spot behind a few barrels, where they'd clearly been documenting the effects. George snatched up their ink and Fred had the notebooks, even as they protested the rough treatment with a variety of curses and pleas.
"Both of you are in trouble," Percy hissed, "and if we didn't have to meet Hermione's family today… Well, we'll deal with you when we get home." For once, Bill was on his side, though his reasoning left a bit to be desired.
"You can't just prank people without a reason or a calling card," he scolded, as if that actually meant anything, but the twins were nodding, and looked chastised, to Percy's irritation, "And when you run off, you make Percy worry. Which makes the ghoul worry." They glanced up at the predatory creature, which Ginny had been whispering to before it huffed a breath over them and took them both in one arm, leaving Bill looking smug, "So, you've lost your walking privileges for the day."
"On the orders of Queen Ginevra," Ginny hissed to him, and Bill nodded, a smile tugging at one side of his mouth, repeating the words in a grandiose manner.
They began to make their way towards Fortescue's, and the ghoul's loping gait did not sit well with the twins. "I think I'm getting seasick already," Fred moaned. George merely looked a bit pale.
"You know, Percy," Bill remarked abruptly, in a seeming non-sequitur, "I do think I'm growing to like that ghoul."
A blink to process the statement, and Percy grinned, returning the shoulder nudge Bill gave him; they'd gotten the books they needed, Ginny would get her owl after lunch without too much stress to their bank account, and Bill was coming around to Percy's familiar- today was shaping up to be actually rather nice. He and Bill exchanged a quick series of glances as they approached the ice cream parlor, however, and came to a silent consensus. "Pairs," Bill said hastily when the inevitable, watery-eyed, pleading glances turned on him, "One small bowl for every two of you." Ginny gestured wordlessly between Harry, Ron, and herself, and Bill rolled his eyes, "Except Ginny, because it's her birthday." There was some good-natured ribbing from the twins about getting fat on the spoils of her victory, but Ginny took it in stride. Before they found tables to push together, Harry said something to Bill in an aside that had Bill shaking his head and patting Harry's shoulder, sending him off with Ron to hash out what they wanted while they waited for Hermione's family to show up.
At Percy's questioning glance, Bill explained quietly, "Harry wanted to help out, but I told him he has to remember he's paying tuition each year with what he's got, and it needs to last. Only way to get him to leave off." The last was said with a laugh, "He clearly doesn't know what he's paying yearly, so it sent him quiet."
"That's a bit mean," Percy said, but a smile was tugging at his lips, "He's going to be irritated with you when he finds out he could pay for a Hogwarts education a few times over with what the Potters likely left for him." Bill shrugged, a matching smile on his face; he'd never been one to let a weakness lie and he had a funny way of pointing it out to you.
"What do you want? Strawberry?" Bill asked suddenly, and when Percy smirked at him, made a face, "What?"
"You've already shown your hand," he teased, getting a huff in return.
"Alright, so I'm in the mood for strawberry ice cream," Bill admitted.
"That's fine," Percy agreed with a hint of mischief.
Walking around collecting the kids' orders, Bill went up to the counter with Ron and Harry for back up with the carrying, leaving Percy with Ginny, Fred, and George. And the ghoul, of course.
"What are you and Bill getting?" Ginny asked, and at Percy's answer, began to laugh.
Fred only snorted, "Does Bill know the ghoul will co-opt the bowl?"
"I didn't think I needed to bring it up," Percy folded a napkin primly in front of him, unable to keep the smirk from his face, despite his casual tone. Soon their wayward party members were back, laden with ice cream, and the Grangers arrived with their own ice cream, joining them with only cursory glances at the ghoul. Unlike the magical population, the elder Grangers seemed unfazed by its presence. When Percy asked about it, the dentist couple explained that they tended to accept whatever they saw in Diagon Alley as normal, since they didn't have any frame of reference for it.
"I am a little relieved," Jean Granger admitted after a short explanation of what the ghoul was doing with them, "that most people aren't walking around with pets like that. Hermione would never let up about a cat, if it were true."
"I'm not that bad," Hermione protested from where she was wedged between Ron and Harry, the three of them eating from the two bowls of ice cream between them indiscriminately. Her father made a noise of disagreement from around a bite of his own, and Ron got an elbow to the side when he laughed. They shared a look of kinship – Dan Granger knew very well how sharp his darling daughter's elbows were.
"What's the problem with a cat, if I might ask?" Percy ventured curiously, and Dan winced pre-emptively.
"Nothing is wrong with a cat; they just don't like natural cat behaviour," Hermione complained.
"You can't train them, they mark up all your furniture, and they don't really love you," her mother counted off on her fingers, the twins stifling one another's laughter at the apoplectic look on Hermione's face.
"They do, too, love you," she began, and Percy hastily interjected,
"Well, what about a kneazle, then?"
"Oh, yeah," Ron jumped in, "kneazles are really smart, so as long as they like you, they're easy to train."
"It's the 'as long as they like you' that's jumping out at me," Jean muttered to her husband.
"What's a kneazle?" Harry asked, looking blank.
That drew in Ginny, who explained it was a sort of magical cat that she thought was just the best, which drew in Bill, who argued that they could be downright nasty if they didn't take a shine to you, which drew in George, who had to speak against whatever Bill thought, and Fred who just wanted to add to the chaos… Eventually the entire table was involved in a debate over the merits and downfalls of different magical pets. Hermione favoured a kneazle, and was backed by Ron, but George eventually began arguing the value of a jarvey, a sort of talking ferret that would possibly be well-loved if not for its smell and inability to speak anything but insults. Fred seemed to be honestly considering the merits of a small water sprite known as a tokoloshe, but once it was explained that they looked rather like a gnome mated with a cross between Percy's ghoul and a merman, and tended to pull nasty pranks along with the ability to become invisible while wet… He was unanimously shot down.
"What do you think, Percy?" Hermione asked, appealing to the only magical authority around – and Percy was a bit chuffed Bill had been so utterly overlooked, if only for his obvious bias against kneazles, "Kneazles sound lovely, don't they?"
"They can be," Percy admitted, ignoring the evil eyes from the anti-kneazle side of things, including Hermione's mother, "Our Uncle Parsifal had one that followed George around whenever we visited. It was so enamored with him, it would trip him up twining his ankles when he tried to walk."
"I forgot about Hetta," George murmured, a strange expression on his face.
"They had just about the same hair color back then," Bill put in, an unwilling smile touching his face, "It was the only way to tell the twins apart before they started freckling."
"Don't you all have…" Hermione trailed off, clearly indicating the Weasley red hair with her eyes.
"When you live with this much red hair, you learn to differentiate the shades," Bill replied with a wink that caused Hermione to flush slightly and look down.
"That cat saved George's hand, once," Fred remarked, thoughtfully, and the eyes of the group swivelled to him.
"When did that happen?" Percy asked, and the story came out as George fidgeted beside his tattle-tale twin. Evidently, young Fred and George had gone poking about their Uncle's study one holiday visit, and made their way into a locked drawer.
"There was this puzzlebox inside and nothing else," Fred was saying, relishing the attention and drawing the story out, "Wooden, with a couple of pigs and sheep carved into the side. Obviously, we wanted to work it out, and George pulls it out of the drawer, careful-like, not wanting to break it or anything. Suddenly, Hetta comes barrelling into the room like we'd set her tail on fire- we didn't," he added at Hermione's accusing glare, "-and knocks the box right outta George's hands. Right in the nick of time, too, because just as the box was falling, wouldn't you believe it, the thing opened a mouth, full of sharp teeth, and snapped shut on air instead of George's hands." Fred paused for the obligatory gasps, and Ginny supplied one when it was clear he wasn't going to continue until someone did. "So, I threw Uncle Parsifal's throw rug on it and we tossed it back in the drawer and got the hell out of dodge." He shrugged, "Figured it was probably an anti-theft spell, later, but back then, we were too freaked out to care."
Something about the idea of a puzzlebox that bit was niggling at Percy, but he couldn't for the life of him remember when he might have heard of such a thing. It occupied him through the rest of the visit, and well after they'd finished their supplying and returned home, Ginny finally climbing down from the ghoul on the way back so as to better coo over her owl, a handsome tawny creature she'd dubbed…
"Onesiphorous? Really?" Ron's hand was on his hip as they introduced the new, unfortunately named owl to Errol. Percy didn't quite see a problem with it; it was a bit burdensome for an owl, but he doubted Onesiphorous cared.
"Siffy," George piped in as Errol sized up the interloper, "Siffy and Errol. Sounds like a comedy on the radio."
"His name is Onesiphorous," Ginny corrected with a restraining hand on Onesiphorous as if he would take offense, and received only a snort in return.
"No one's going to say all that every time they want to refer to your owl when they could just say Siffy," George teased.
"Don't you start spreading that around, then," she demanded, a finger pointing into George's unruffled expression.
"Why, my dear sister," he put a hand on his heart, "Would I do that to you?"
Leaving the bickering with a stealthy slide out of the room, Percy found Molly rapidly talking at the ghoul, though she turned to him as he entered her field of vision. "Percy," she said, floating up to him and poking through his chest, "You let your sister run into a Malfoy in the Alley?"
"How do you even-" Percy cut himself off, leaning around his mother to glance at his ghoul speculatively, which pointedly did not react, and gestured for Molly to follow him somewhere a bit less likely for him to be overheard speaking with thin air. Or at least, he'd tried – Ron had followed him, fleeing his irate sister and her swooping owl along with George, hollering as they ran past. Trying to send Molly a look that said we are not done, Percy ran after the conflict, catching and untangling it enough to send them up to their rooms for long enough to cool down. Ron and George needed to stop teasing Ginny, and Ginny should not react with violence.
"Only blood will ease my suffering," she replied with unsettling solemnity before heading up the stairs, Onesiph- for the love of god, Siffy on her shoulder. It was getting tedious just thinking that owl's name and Percy supposed he could see where Ron and George had been coming from now. Alright. The combatants were in solitary. Fred was off teaching Harry something in the garden that Percy would likely regret later. Bill was occupied with the list of locations the twins had dumped on him when prompted to reveal where they foraged up the potions ingredients they used over the summer.
Percy put one hand on the railing and took a moment to breathe.
"No time left to waste, Percy," Molly sing-songed behind him, causing him to jump, "You've got a lot to learn and so little time to learn it in."
"Can you speak with the ghoul?" Percy asked suspiciously, ignoring the lead in and was, in turn, similarly ignored. He wasn't sure exactly how he ended up scrubbing the pantry floor on hands and knees, but he was sure he'd tried his best to get answers along the way. Probably. Honestly, his head went a little fuzzy sometimes when his mother was around, so really he had no idea.
"…and right now, you'll have turned it off, just from sheer boredom," she was lecturing when he came to, 'pacing' around him and occasionally vanishing into a shelf or wall due to the enclosed space Percy was in, "But at Hogwarts, you will get blinding headaches for maybe the first week if you don't figure out how to block out bonds and such before then. The whole castle basically shoves itself into people's magic and then strings them together like beads in a necklace with all the glee of a demonic child…" Her tone was a little bitter now, but Percy just let it wash over him as he worked at a recent spill. Amazingly, he had no idea what had caused this particular stain, despite being the most frequent user of the kitchen, and he had no desire to find out.
Molly was determined to get him to learn how to block the feeling of bonds before Hogwarts, despite her admission that it had taken her around a month to do it, herself. They had around a month left, to her reckoning, and Percy's protests that two and a half weeks were not a month were summarily disregarded.
So it was that Percy was disgruntled, unanswered, and exhausted the day Gringotts called Bill back to work. He'd heard Bill out peaceably with his siblings, and nodded along until he nodded off, being prodded back to startled wakefulness by George's gleeful poking to his side.
"If you're not awake," George whispered, clearly taking his duties very seriously, "I will soon be authorized to test things on you."
"I'm awake," Percy informed him dryly, pushing down the spike of agitation that had no place- oh, wait. It was George. Righteous anger and vindication licked at his insides unbridled for all of a moment before Bill resumed speaking.
"And you're all sure we've got everything?" Bill asked, almost nervously. It was unlike Bill, who tended to take things as they came, and Percy eyed his older brother thoughtfully as his siblings and Harry chorused affirmatives. "Percy will still be here, of course." Percy felt eyes turn to him and remained steadfastly, disinterestedly staring at Bill, his ghoul snorting behind him and upsetting the delicate balance of his hair. Still, Percy did not flinch. It seemed Bill had awoken his paternal instinct in the time he'd had with his siblings, and from the way he kept tugging at that earring, he wasn't sure why he suddenly didn't want to leave his family alone when he'd been fine with it before and-
"We'll be fine, Bill," Percy assured him, cutting off the train of thought he could almost see forming in Bill's furrowed brow. It was… nice, he thought. Yes, it still brought up a twinge that Bill was only now regretting needing to leave, but… He was regretting it. Maybe it was a little off to see someone close to you worried and upset and just think, finally, but Percy had never claimed to be a bastion of mental health and emotional stability. He was just glad Bill was taking the responsibility seriously for once. Or, well, that was a little unfair. He was glad Bill was taking this responsibility so seriously.
"Right," Bill cleared his throat, straightening, "Right. You'll get them all to the train on time, I'm sure. And there's food."
"Oh, Merlin, this is actually painful to keep listening to," Fred moaned quietly, and his twin nodded, still looking put out – probably from mulling on the disappointment that Percy had woken so easily. With some unspoken communication passing between them, Fred and George stood as one and took an arm each, frogmarching Bill to the floo. Bill's surprise passed quickly and he grabbed them in a bear hug, laughing slightly.
"Geroff," George said, sounding distinctly muffled, but his hand briefly joined Fred's on Bill's back. Ron and Ginny attached themselves like the limpets they were in a previous life, as Harry and Percy bore witness to the awkwardness that is an extended Weasley hug. With two people, it was hard enough to decide when to let go. With five? There were several aborted motions before the tangle broke and Bill was free.
"Percival Weasley," Bill began admonishingly, extending an arm his direction, "What are you doing over there?"
For just a split second, Percy experienced a jolt of panic he hadn't been expecting. I don't want to break down here, he found himself thinking, but that couldn't be right, could it? He was fine. Wasn't he? The pause had gone on a little too long, and Percy quickly plastered on half a smile, covering with, "Waiting for you, obviously." He got a roll of the eyes for that, but Bill didn't rise to the bait, instead just stepping forward and sweeping Percy into a hug that… didn't feel like anything. Percy patted his back awkwardly and was released, making him feel as if he'd just tapped out in a wrestling match. Bill ruffled Harry's hair and moved back to the fireplace, taking a breath.
"Well, goodbye," he said, and received the Weasley Song of Farewell in return, mostly consisting of Ginny demanding postcards and pictures, the twins insisting on progressively more elaborate well wishes, and Ron attempting to look disaffected but really just making it more obvious he didn't want to see Bill go. The fire flared green and the sound dropped off.
"Time for supper," Percy declared, too tired to deal with whatever might come about if he let them all marinate in Bill's absence. Pointing to the ghoul, he continued, "You're back at the table, congratulations."
What was that, anyway? Sure, Percy knew he wasn't perfect, but he'd thought he was okay. He'd felt okay. A bit hazy, but okay. Everything had been very… well. Busy, now that he thought of it. He hadn't really had much time for introspection or feelings beyond reacting to whatever was dropped into his lap. There'd been less crying from his siblings and more snark, and he assumed some of the leftover tears and mucus had made their way to Bill. He knew Ginny had ended up in Bill's room the night following her birthday, at least, and had probably kept him up rubbing her back as she cried most of the night judging by the way he'd looked the next day.
"Everyone's homework is done, right?" Percy asked once they were all seated at the table and passing food around.
"Yeah," Ron informed him around a mouthful of something no longer identifiable.
"Don't speak with your mouth full," Percy scolded in perfect synch with Molly. He tried to focus on it, but it was like the thought just slid behind another, hidden and out of reach.
"You asked a question," Ron shrugged, and Percy supposed that was true, but it had not been directly aimed at Ron. Still, further attempts at maintaining discipline would not go uncontested, he was sure, and a war over dinner was not something he'd rationed energy for.
"Everyone else?" Percy prompted, and got a round of affirmatives, "And the Lockhart books?"
"We have notes," Fred's voice had the insistent emphasis of one suffering from persecution of the most persistent sort, "So. Many. Notes."
"I just don't want anyone to be unprepared," Percy defended mildly, batting the ghoul's hand from his own plate and pointing firmly to the one belonging to it, which garnered him a wounded look. The book list tended to come with a series of notes from the professors to read up on one chapter or another before the first day of class. These were typically short assignments on top of the usual summer essays and were more for enhancing understanding than for points. It wasn't as if there were a quiz the first day of class, but the first lecture tended to be based on that suggested reading. With four sets of the chronological Lockhart books and instructions to have at least skimmed them all, it didn't require as careful management as, say, the year Charlie and Percy actually had shared a wardrobe, but it was still something to monitor.
"So, if we're all ready for Hogwarts, and we've still got a few days," Ron began leadingly, mouth actually empty of food for once as he drew his fork across his plate, eyes glued on the motion, "Could we go visit Dad?"
As if from behind a thin, opaque barrier, a tidal wave of hot and roiling anger blindsided Percy, and he thought, dimly, Well, there it is. Was there any way he could say no? It was his first instinct, and he could feel the refusal fighting to hit open air from the tip of his tongue, but… What would he say? No, you can't go see your comatose father. Because reasons. Reasons I don't feel comfortable sharing with you because you might take his side. His mother was watching him curiously, and he met her eye for a moment, taking in the familiar color even if the laugh lines were gone and the eyebrow unscarred. He never did find out what had caused that tiny nick down the center of her left eyebrow, did he? He could ask. Because she was still here. Even if she was… different. Taking in that thought with a deep breath, Percy raised a hand to his temple and made himself say without thinking too deeply on it, "Of course. We should have been ages ago." Molly wasn't the only one with eyes on him, and Fred was being just as obvious about it, but kept whatever he was thinking to himself beyond a light furrow to his brow. "But," Percy raised a finger to forestall the celebration, "you have to finish packing first."
"I'm done," Ron replied promptly, "Harry helped."
"I'm done, too," Ginny said, revealing the depths of the conspiracy as George nodded into his plate and Fred added a verbal affirmative of his similar status.
"So, tomorrow?" Ron asked hopefully, and Percy missed his plate, almost stabbing the table before he set down his silverware.
"Sure." Percy put down the fork, folding his hands in his lap instead, where he could trust them not to cause trouble.
"Really?" Fred pressed, searching Percy's face, even as Ron hit him playfully in the shoulder, all grins, now.
"Why wouldn't he?"
Why wouldn't he, indeed?
Percy let the rest of them move everything along, only chipping in when he was actually required. It was difficult to force himself to actively try to see his father and when they finally made it, it was vaguely surreal. They all crowded around the bed while Percy sat back, legs crossed, leaning his temple against one hand and waiting for them to get bored staring at Arthur's unconscious face. Instead, they all began to talk to him. At him. Whatever. Even Harry was dragged into it when Ron introduced him and the twins made him say hello.
"He's unconscious," Percy protested when his siblings turned on him expectantly, but George dragged him out of his chair anyway, explaining condescendingly that coma victims sometimes could hear what's around them, that it might help.
Thusly, Percy was now standing at his father's bedside, searching for something to say other than maybe I don't want to help. "Glad you're not dead," Percy finally said, succinctly, "Keep at it, yeah?" And he sat himself firmly back down, meeting the stares of his siblings with a dismissive wave to get back to visiting because he was not going to stay here all day.
He sort of wanted to shake the man and scream at him for what he'd done, so really, Percy felt he was displaying admirable restraint. Now if Fred would stop sneaking looks that were not nearly as subtle as he thought they were, then Percy would be just peachy.
The hand not supporting his weight tightened on the chair's arm as Ginny began to cry, on the other side of the bed, and her brothers awkwardly patted her back as she asked her father to wake up soon. This man didn't deserve tears, to Percy's mind. His eyes were flat and his lips pressed into a white line as she pulled herself together with minimal fuss. Arthur had gotten himself into this, and their mother besides, and he could bloody well dig himself out. Sure, he was comatose, but as George had pointed out, it was possible he was conscious enough in there to fight on his own.
Still… He couldn't say he didn't miss his father. Yet sitting by his body's side when Arthur wasn't blatantly there to react as Percy hugged and then possibly decked him was not something Percy found in any way, shape, or form productive. After about an hour more of this, Percy had had just about enough and came back to reality, standing and causing his siblings to jump after his long stillness. He cleared his throat, "Wrap it up. We've got to get home if you want lunch at all today." The only real hold he had over them was food, and he dreaded the day they figured it out. Directions ignored would be the least of it. George and Ron were the worst grumblers, but they rolled out soon enough, crowding the thin halls of St. Mungo's with only a part of the Weasley brood as they funnelled towards the visitor's floo.
A notice caught Percy's eye as they left, warning that downsizings were coming in the future for this wing, and he made a note of it as yet another thing to look into later. When a healer found themselves caught against the wall as the Weasley parade passed by, Percy amended his 'later' to 'now.'
"Excuse me, ma'am," he said, bowing slightly and gesturing for his siblings to wait a moment, which at least Ginny heeded, "Would you have a moment to explain what the department downsizing means for patients here?"
"Ah, we'll do the best we can," she replied, seeming frazzled as she juggled a few different potion bottles and clipboards before she produced a flyer and passed it to Percy, "We're going to be ridiculously understaffed, thanks to the budget cuts being pushed through by Mr. Malfoy. His 'sizeable donations' never seem to make it to the terminal ward."
"Thank you," Percy bowed her off as she hopped back to her duties with a frantic energy. When he turned back to his siblings, Ginny had wrangled the twins away from the floo, and Ron was being appealed to in order to help the two escape to explore Knockturn Alley on "accident." He looked almost convinced.
"Alright, home," Percy ordered, herding them through the floo and listening carefully to each passenger's declared destination. None of them tried to flee with him leaning by the mantle with an eagle eye and soon they'd all made it back to the Burrow without any other mishaps along the way.
Sometime later, the flyer found its way to Percy's desk, and he smoothed it out over the wooden surface. It was somewhat unassuming, outlining the cutbacks that could be expected in a clearly strained cheerful tone. A little healer in training cartoon dutifully pushed about a trolly along the bottom of the page. While there would still be a healer on duty, it would be just that- a healer. Singular. So if complications arose in two different areas in the ward, they would need to call for assistance from people already on other jobs. Wonderful.
He pushed the paper away with an energy borne of frustration, Molly already hovering at one shoulder and the ghoul encroaching on the other.
"Well, you'll have to do something," Molly insisted after a short period of silence, "Your father deserves care just as much as any other patient. Just because he isn't conscious doesn't mean he isn't alive."
"I can see their point," Percy lied, feeling mulish and unreasonable, but the resulting scolding he could see building in Molly's throat as her chest puffed and her lips pursed made him recant the sentence, "But yes, I will see what I can do. There's still whoever sent Dobby to look for, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah," she waved this off, "But Lucius is one of your suspects, anyway."
"So, what, I look for blackmail?" Percy asked incredulously, but his indignation faded as the cogs started turning, "Or instead of making us more of a threat, I could make us less. Supplicants, looking for aid."
"What?" Molly asked, but Percy was already beginning to feel a plan come together, "Go back to the blackmail. I don't like the sound of this."
Holding up one hand as if to fend her off, Percy dug through his desk with the other, "No, it could work. Two birds with one stone. I don't need revenge; I need to keep the kids safe. If I start to insinuate that with you gone, the Weasleys are beginning to see the errors of our ways – or at least I am because Merlin knows the rest of them would rather die than go along with it – and noticing the influence he wields at St. Mungo's, go to him to appeal the decision to cut funds in the terminal ward… We're no longer enemies but something below him, even on his side. He'd leave us alone."
"I don't know about that," Molly began uneasily, "Lucius is-"
"Aha!" Percy pulled out a folded handout, slamming it down triumphantly on his desk. Ministry Mentors, the front read, and Molly quieted. "Look, I can't make him just disappear, so we need to deal with him however we can, right?" He met his mother's eyes earnestly, "Keep them safe no matter what, yeah?"
"…Yes," she conceded, "It could work. If you're very, very careful. Lucius is dangerous, but he does have a bit of honor left to him, I think."
Percy's returning grin was blinding, larger than she'd seen since she came into being with the original Molly's death, and Molly fell into a disquieted silence, watching what was nominally her son work out how to manipulate events so as to protect her other children without drawing suspicion.
How far will you go? she wondered, and a dark, fierce smile curled at her lips like fire on kindling.
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