Disclaimer: See Chapter one

Author Notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, they all put a smile on my face! Anyway, I've been busy writing the next few chapters, and it looks like this story will have around 23 or 24. Well, here is chapter nine, hope you enjoy it!

Chapter Nine

Sitting down gingerly beneath the big tree behind the Burrow, Percy grimaced as the wet grass began to seep through his clothes. Laying his cane down and stretching out his leg, he titled his head back to rest against the bark. He felt the light rain hit his face, and wash down his neck.

Sometimes, especially after a nightmare like he'd just had, he had to get outside. Had to be somewhere he wasn't trapped, where there weren't four walls, a floor and a ceiling that seemed to be pressing in. After those months, he'd noticed many changes. The physical ones – scars, a limp, and a tendency for his brain to rebel and try and shake its way out of his body – then there were the nightmares, and the fear. And to top it off, a small room with a few books, the type of place that had been his sanctuary all through his childhood was now like hell, reminding him of the room he'd be chained in for months. So now, he had to look elsewhere to be calm and safe. For him now, that was outside. Even if it was raining.

Allowing the rain to trail down his face, then his neck, he tried to relax and let the tension that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his body seep away. He hated this time of day, when he was left alone with nothing but his thoughts for company. And what a day. A day spent alone in an empty apartment, in pain. And a night at a Weasley family dinner, his family – Merlin, his family. They were still so angry, he knew it, even if they didn't verbalise it. Knew too that he had no one to blame but himself. Just one of many things that he blamed himself for. Like what happened to Fred.

God, Fred, his arm still in a sling. Although he claimed he'd eventually recover, Percy knew that Madam Pomfrey thought he mostly likely never regain full use of his arm. That was definitely Percy's fault. He was an Order spy, for Merlin's sake, he should have been aware enough of his surroundings to protect his little brother. And it had been close, so close. He'd honestly thought for a second that Fred was gone. In those few seconds, he wondered how he'd tell his family, wondered why it hadn't been him instead, and then wondered if there was a way to trade places. Then Fred had stirred a little, grimacing in pain, but cracking bad jokes, and Percy knew that his nightmare hadn't come true yet. Now every time he saw Fred or George (because for a second back in the battle he'd truly had to consider George going on without Fred) the guilt seemed increase. One more reason he'd tried to stay away, one reason he didn't think Kingsley knew or had guessed.

After the agonizing dinner – complete with a complementary migraine – he'd left his parents house, making an escape to his own after almost having his injuries ousted to his family, thanks to Ron. Come home to a sad and empty apartment, and a lovely seizure. Then Kingsley burst in, and now he was back at the Burrow.

Back at the Burrow, and facing a family who mostly still treated him like a traitor. Not that he blamed them, most days he felt like a traitor. The fact that he'd been forced to use a cane only made things worse. And now he had to spend an indefinite amount of time around them. God, he didn't think that he could take it.

And after coming back to the Burrow, to the annoyed faces of his siblings, he'd plead exhaustion, and fled to his room. Only to be woken rudely by the sound of his own voice screaming. Good thing he picked up a new habit – silencing charms before going to sleep. He shuddered, not sure if it was the cold or the memory that made him shake. Wincing, he began to massage his right hand. He didn't know if it was the damp air, or some leftover nerve or muscle damage, but the bloody thing had been aching something fierce lately. And even if the outside was a relief from the demons of his sleep, the damp rain definitely did nothing for his leg.

Sighing, he dug in his pocket for his pain pills. They didn't do much, but it was better than nothing. According to Madam Pomfrey, after overdosing as badly as he had, anything too strong would send him back. He didn't want to become an addict, and was now reluctant to take even these mild pills, but he could barely think through the pain of body. Maybe that's a good thing.

Forcing himself to relax, he slumped against the tree, and tried to clear his mind of all the damned thoughts and memories playing havoc with his psyche.

It was the sun that woke him, glaring straight into his face. Groaning, he shielded his eyes, and tried to get his bearings. He shifted slightly against the bark at his back, and couldn't contain the gasp the spilled from his lips. Bloody Merlin, sleeping outside in the rain is definitely not good for the leg. He concentrated on breathing in and out, trying to lessen the pain. Finally he was able to focus on something else, other than the pain, and he realised that it was past dawn, his parents would be up, and he had to get inside before they realised where he was. Steeling himself, he slowly and painfully dragged himself to his feet, the tree and cane all that were really keeping him standing. Gritting his teeth, he set out for the house, wincing and blinking back tears at every step.

By the time he got to the door, he was panting, sweating, and praying that no one was in the kitchen. Lady Luck was on his side, because the kitchen was blessedly empty, although the steaming cup of tea indicated that someone was around. No sooner had he taken a seat at the table, and floated a cup of tea over for himself, than his mother bustled in.

"Percy! I didn't realise you were up, let me fix you breakfast," Molly bustled around the kitchen as she spoke, pulling things out in preparation for breakfast.

"Actually, I'm fine Mum, I'm going into work in a minute anyway, so I'll just grab something in an hour or two," Okay so a lie, but I don't think Mum appreciates how nauseous my meds make me.

"Percy you can't be going in already! Your father doesn't even leave for an hour!" Molly continued cooking, despite his protests.

"The Ministry is in the process of rebuilding and they need every employee to be dedicated. Since I am Assistant to the Minister, it is even more important for me to show my dedication." Molly pursed her lips and didn't follow the matter any more. And Arthur, who had entered the kitchen just in time to hear Percy's pompous little speech frowned and sat down at the table without a good morning. Internally, Percy sighed. Perfect Pompous Percy strikes again. It really is the easiest way to get them to leave me alone. If only they knew how much I hated what I had to do, how little trust and faith I have in the Ministry now, maybe they wouldn't be so quick to believe Perfect Pompous Percy. Standing was not without difficulty, despite his attempt to appear normal. Percy gritted his teeth against the pain and nodded to his father, before apparating to work.