Bill's POV:

"If they gave him the Veritas Potion, of course he's not responsible for what he told him. Everyone knows you can't resist its effects," my father stated, as I finished repeating the information Charlie had told me. He was sitting across the table from me, one arm around my mother's shoulders.

Beside my father, my mother had broken into tears not long after I had started relaying the information. As much as it hurt to see my mother cry, at least I knew I was sparing Charlie from having to endure that same feeling. As Charlie had promised Percy not to leave his side, I had volunteered to spread the information to the others. I had told George and Fleur first. As I was leaving for the Burrow, George had headed upstairs to join Charlie by Percy's side.

"Charlie told him as much," I assured him, "but Percy is still convinced it's his fault and that we'll think he betrayed us because of that."

"I guess we can't really fault him for feeling that way," Ron said quietly, from beside me. My baby brother's eyes were focused on the table. "Fred, George and I always did give him a hard time and none of us were very nice to him after he moved to London."

Reaching out, I rested my hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. I knew I was just as guilty as he on that last account. The few visits I had made to him in London had always ended in arguments.

"Feeling guilty about what's already been done isn't going to help anything," my father said, looking around at all us. "The best thing we can do now is show Percy that we don't blame him for anything and make him feel like part of the family again."

"How?" Ginny asked from her spot on the other side of Ron

"I want him home," my mother said, through her tears. It was the first words she had spoken since she had greeted me at the door.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I ventured carefully, knowing that she wasn't going to react well to my words. Still, Percy had finally seemed to feel more at ease at Shell Cottage the past day. I didn't think that changing his environment again was a good idea. I never got the chance to explain that reasoning though.

"You are not his mother," she yelled, glaring at me from across the table. "You don't know what's best for him."

"Now, Molly, calm down," my father said soothingly. "I know you're worried about, Percy. We all are. However, he is of age now. We can't go dictating to him what he can and can't do. If he's at Bill's then at least, we know he is safe and isn't alone. That's the two most important things right now."

My siblings and I sat quietly, watching the exchange between our parents. Though mum opened her mouth, presumably to put up a further protest, our father didn't give her a chance as he continued.

"I made the mistake once of pushing my will too far with him, Molly. We both know how that turned out. Don't repeat my mistake."

My mother didn't reply in words but her disappointed sigh told me that she was conceding the point. I felt relieved at that. There was enough going on right now without adding an argument with any of my family, especially my mum, to it.

As my mother rested her head against my father's shoulder, my father looked across the table at me.

"What's your plan right now?"

"Right now, I just want to concentrate on helping Percy get well again. He needs to regain his strength physically before he's really able to deal with the emotional toll all this has taken on him," I replied. "At least Percy is starting to open up to us. The more he's willing to share with us, the easier it's going to be to give him the support that he needs. Fleur and I are willing to let him stay at Shell Cottage for as long as he needs to and is willing to."

"And if he wants to go back to his own apartment in London, are you going to let him?" my mother asked.

I could hear the desperation in her voice. I knew what answer she wanted me to give, and it hurt that I knew I couldn't provide that.

"Once he's strong enough physically to be on his own, yeah I'll let him leave when he wants to. I won't try holding him and risk alienating him again."

My father nodded in acknowledgment of my words, although my mother remained silent.

"Can we come see him?" Ginny asked quietly, breaking the silence in the room.

I glanced over at my little sister as I spoke. "If and when he's up for visitors. Also, not everyone at one time. The last thing we want to do is overwhelm him."

"Perhaps it's best if we all wait for tomorrow," my father said. "And even then, not all go over at the same time. He'll be asleep most of the day any way, after taking the sleeping draught."

I found myself nodding. It did seem best not to overwhelm Percy, although given the doubts he had confessed to Charlie this morning, I did think that at least one member of my family needed to come see Percy this evening. "Dad, I think you need to come see him tonight," I told him. "From what Charlie told me, Percy is convinced that what happened is going to change how we feel about him. As traumatized as he is right now, nobody showing up will probably just reinforce that feeling. Given the problems the two of you had, I think that hearing from you that we don't blame him for what happened is important, even if you're not able to convince him of the fact."

"But it wasn't his fault," Ginny protested. "Anyone would have given out the information in the situation he was in."

"We all know that, Ginny," my father replied before I had a chance to reply. "However, as Percy has already convinced himself otherwise, it's going to take reinsurance and patience on our part to prove that."

I was happy to see that he had picked up on my line of thought.

Looking from Ginny to me, my father continued. "I'll come by later this afternoon. Hopefully, I can be there around the time the draught wears off."

"We'll be expecting you," I replied, pushing back my chair and getting to my feet.

"Do you have to go so soon?" my mother asked, finally lifting her head off my father's shoulder.

"I want to take advantage of this time and try getting some sleep," I told her, taking a step back from the table and pushing the chair in, as I spoke.

My mother nodded silently, standing up as well. Coming around the table, she embraced me. Returning the hug, I held my mother close, knowing that I needed this as much as she did. Though we had gotten passed yet another hurdle, I knew my family had more to get past.

Percy's POV:

"As much as I hate the idea of leaving with things so unsettled here, part of me is looking forward to getting back to Romania. I'm hoping that perhaps things will start feeling normal to me again."

"I know what you mean, though I'm not sure I'll ever find that."

~And it's my fault, ~ a voice inside me added, as I struggled through a state of being half awake.

"You'll figure it out. It's just going to take time."

"How much?"

"That's one question I can't answer for you, George. Just don't rush anything. Take it one day at a time for now. What about the shop?"

"I don't know. I don't even want to think about going back there right now."

"Then don't. You'll know when you're ready."

~I'm sorry, ~ I thought as I opened my eyes to the now familiar surroundings of Shell Cottage. The setting sun cast shadows in the room.

Turning my head, I spotted Charlie sitting in the chair next to the bed. George, who must have been standing while he talked to Charlie, was approaching the bed. Seeing him, the image of Fred's lifeless body laying amongst the debris of the castle wall, flashed through my mind. It was a scene that I didn't think I'd ever be able to forget. Fleetingly, I wondered if I would always see that image every time I saw George.

"Sorry about what, Percy?" George asked, as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Never mind," I replied, realizing that I must have actually said the words. I didn't miss the concerned look that George cast in Charlie's direction.

"How you feeling, kiddo?" Charlie asked, leaning forward in the chair. I felt his hand come to rest on my shoulder.

"About the same," I replied. Despite the uninterrupted sleep I still felt tired and stiff. The guilt and the fear were still there, but they didn't seem as powerful as they had this morning. This morning I had felt a sense of panic, sure that at any moment one of Voldermort's followers, that hadn't been killed or caught during the war, would show up and hurt my family in their search for me. Now, at least, I knew how irrational that sounded even though that doubt still floated at the back of my mind. "Though I don't feel as overwhelmed as I did before," I added.

Charlie gently squeezed my shoulder. "It's a start," my older brother said. "You should use the sleeping draught at night for a while, until the nightmares are more manageable."

I shook my head in response.

"Percy, please. You need proper rest to regain your strength," Charlie replied.

"Bill or I will stay with you if you don't want to be alone," George offered.

"Or I can stay," Charlie added.

I shook my head again. "You said your boss wanted you back. I won't be the reason you lose your job."

"The job is not as important to me, as you are," Charlie replied immediately. "Besides, I have a week until that even becomes an issue."

Again I shook my head. I had already changed Charlie's plans once. I refused to be responsible for that again. Still, despite my protests, I could see my second eldest brother hanging around if he was worried about me. The only way I could see of assuring that he would head back to Romania was agreeing to what he wanted.

"I'll use the sleeping draught, at night, if necessary," I told him.

From the look on his face, I don't think Charlie was totally convinced but he let the subject dropped. "Okay then. I'll probably grab something to eat and then head for Romania then as you seem intent on getting rid of me," he said lightly.

The words he spoke next took me by surprise.

"Dad's here. He stopped by so he could see you when you woke up."

"He's angry, isn't he?"

"No, Percy. Just concerned like all of us are."

I wanted to believe Charlie, but it was hard. All I could remember were the angry words that had been exchanged between my father and myself when I had left home. The two of us had said very little since then. With things left like that before us and the fact that I hadn't showed any overt concern for him when he had been injured a couple of years ago, I couldn't see how my father could be anything but mad. Even if he had been willing to forgive me before, I couldn't imagine that happening now. Not after what had happened to Fred and admitting to putting everyone in danger.

"Is it okay if I send him up here to see you?" Charlie asked.

~No! ~ my mind screamed. I was still ashamed about the way I had acted before and now that he knew this new information, I felt even more ashamed.

"Yeah, sure," I managed to get out, knowing that refusing would only hurt him further.

"Okay," Charlie said, giving my shoulder a squeeze as he got to his feet. "I'll send him up and I'll come see you again before I leave," Charlie promised.

I nodded, wanting to ask Charlie to stay but not wanting to explain why to my brother. It seemed irrational even to me that I was afraid to see my own father. Truth be told, I was though. I knew he had been right all the time, and that I had hurt him through my actions over the last few years. Nothing I could say or do could change that.

"How about I hang around."

I looked at George, who I had forgotten was even in the room. He was still sitting on the edge of my bed, and was now looking at me with a mixed expression of concern and understanding. Denying that I needed or wanted someone to stay with me crossed my mind momentarily. I hated feeling dependent on anyone nor did I feel I had any right to be asking my family for anything after what I had done.

Truth was though, I didn't want to face my father alone and I had a feeling George sensed that. After all, he had made a suggestion, not asked if I wanted him to stay. Still, I couldn't bring myself to vocally express my desire, nor did I try to get George to leave.

George reached out, took my hand in his, and gave it a squeeze. I knew then that he really didn't plan on going anywhere, and as I heard approaching footsteps, I drew strength from that. Afraid that George might let go, I grasped his hand, not wanting to lose that connection. I felt the hand I grasped squeeze my hand reassuringly. After so many years of dealing with things on my own, it was a nice not feeling alone for a change.

I wasn't naive enough to think that it would last for long but while I had it, I planed on clinging to it.