Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Alas.

Author's Note: Next chapter returns to Draco. I'm thinking I'll need two weeks as I have to re-orient myself to the actual plot of this book, lol.

OoOoOoOoO

One year ago…

"You'll have to give a statement," Gleason said.

Percy looked at all of the magazines and articles that littered the coffee table. 'Hero of England, Assistant Minister Weasley' read the Daily Prophet, 'Brave and Courageous Assistant Minister Saves England' said the Magical Times, 'Percy Weasley – Britain's Unsung Hero' proclaimed the Wizarding Weekly.

Percy looked back up at Gleason. "What the hell did you do?"

Gleason shrugged. "This wasn't me, Weasley. Your story is just that compelling. And here, look at this one, the ladies are loving you."

He tossed Percy a women's magazine. Percy looked at the photo on front. It was a photo of him – not that this was a new development, all of the newspapers had photos of him – but this type of photo was new. All the other newspapers had used official photos of him, his stern portrait in front of the flag, his somber picture when he had been sworn into office, and so forth. All of them had captured Percy looking serious and grave.

This photo, however, was a candid shot. Percy had to think back to recall the event. It had been right after a long and trying news conference. The news had been good for a change. They'd received a pledge of assistance from the States. The official Ministry photographer had followed Kingsley and the others back to the Minister's office to take a few 'behind the scene' photos.

Percy was rarely the focus of the photographers, but this time the camera had focused on him. He was sitting in one of the chairs in front of Kingsley's desk. His dress robes were draped over the arm of the chair, leaving him in dress trousers and a plain Oxford, open at the throat. The picture captured him in the act of pulling off his glasses, glancing out of frame, and then laughing, ever-so-slightly, at something unseen. If Percy remembered correctly, John Kelley had just cracked a joke.

It was a very flattering photo of him, which made Percy stare at it for a moment. He usually looked pinched or upset in photos. 'Constipated' was the way Fred and George always described it. In this photo though… he almost looked like Bill. Almost. Bill was easily the best-looking of the Weasley boys, and Percy couldn't really hope to surpass his brother in that regard.

He glanced at the headline above the photo. "Assistant Minister Percy Weasley: Smart, Brave, and Sexy." The tagline read, "Learn about the handsome hero who saved the Ministry of Magic – and he's single!"

Percy felt something like panic seize him. He looked up at Gleason. "What the hell is this? Sexy? Single?"

Gleason raised his hands, acting innocent, but also looking like he was having a blast at Percy's discomfort. "Hey, I did not print that, but wow, is it doing wonders for your popularity. Everyone is clamoring for an interview, and I mean, everyone. Even a bunch of foreign media sites are interested."

"Shit," Percy said, feeling something like dread wash over him.

Gleason laughed, just a little. "Look, Weasley, we need to think about catering to the media. I can see it going one of two ways. One, we do it press conference style. You give a statement, take a bunch of questions, and it'll be over in thirty minutes. The downside is it'll be more chaotic and it will be harder to control the questions that are asked and the narrative that comes out. Option number two, we sit you down for a one on one interview. That will be longer, about an hour, but we can pre-screen the questions and guide the story. What do you think?"

For as much as Percy disliked Gleason, there were times like this when he remembered just how good Gleason was at his job. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses. "There are more important people to interview."

"I've got other heroes on a press conference tomorrow," said Gleason. "Rudy Costace and George Parrish will be there answering questions about how they evacuated the Ministry. Laurel Heddy, from Sports, will talk about how she evacuated her whole floor safely, and Carlo Santiago, intern for Muggle Affairs, will talk about he wrestled a hippogriff."

"Put me in with them," said Percy. "Let's not give too much attention to this story. It's ridiculous enough already."

Gleason shook his head. "That won't be enough."

"We'll think about a one-on-one later," said Percy. "But I'm not about to steal the spotlight from anyone else who risked their life to save the Ministry. Put me in with them. And I want to approve the reporters who will be in attendance."

"You always do," said Gleason.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Arthur Weasley considered the letter in front of him. It came from a regal looking eagle-owl, bearing the crest that marked it as an official Ministry owl. The owl was waiting now, perched still and patient on the table, as Arthur tried to come up with an appropriate reply. He struggled for words, so he read the letter again.

'Arthur and Molly,

I am deeply saddened and grieved to hear of Charlie's death. Charlie was a brave man, a good man, and I know his absence will be felt dearly.

Not only is this letter to wish you the deepest of condolences, but also to let you know that Percy is doing well. I know there have been reports of his injuries. Rest assured, he is recovering well and is, as usual, trying to do too much too soon. We are making sure he gets his rest.

I do hope you are proud of your son – both your sons – and if I might request a favor, could you please consider coming to the Ministry and seeing Percy? I'm sure that being with his parents during this time would be a great comfort to him.

Please write back when it is convenient for you to travel here, and I will see to it that the proper arrangements are made.

My heartfelt sympathies,

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Arthur put the letter down. He picked up the newspaper beside it, one of many that talked about how Percy had single-handedly saved England.

The newspaper stated that after seeing the Minister to safety, Percy had activated the self-destruct on the Ministry building, preventing Voldemort from gaining control. But that report did not match what Arthur knew to be true.

After Kingsley had been evacuated, there had been hours of conflict. Hundreds of civilians, Aurors, Civis Arma troops, and Order members had died. And no one had even seen Percy. And Charlie, convinced that Percy was in danger, had died trying to save him.

So where had Percy been during those hours? Why hadn't he activated the self-destruct sooner?

And the newspaper said Percy was seriously injured in the attempt. But now Kingsley was reporting that he was back at work already.

Arthur felt grief and anger well in his chest. He was burying Charlie tomorrow. He was trying to console his family, comfort his wife, and plan a funeral, and now Kingsley wanted him to visit Percy to… what, exactly? Hold his hand while his scrapes were tended to?

Arthur picked up his pen and formulated a quick response.

Dear Kingsley,

Thank you for your sympathies. Charlie's death is a great tragedy to this family.

I have already owled Percy concerning his brother's death and funeral arrangements. We had hoped he would come home. His mother is requesting that the family retire to the Burrow and spend time together. We assumed that, due to his lack of response, he was not inclined to attend. I am, of course, grateful to hear he is recovered from any injuries he might have sustained.

Charlie's service is tomorrow, 2pm. You are most welcome to come as well, although I recognize that might be difficult for you in your position. Surely you could spare Percy for attendance.

Yours,

Arthur

oOoOoOoOo

"What is that?" Percy demanded.

It was morning, early morning. Too early, in Percy's opinion, but with the press conference taking up most of the afternoon, he needed to get some actual work done. He hadn't been expecting Deanna to levitate an entire box of parchment onto his desk.

"Mail for you," Deanna said.

Percy looked inside at the hundreds and hundreds of letters that were inside. "But… I was only gone from my apartment for a few days. I was only expecting a water bill."

"Let me specify," said Deanna. "This is fan mail. If your water bill is in it, we're going to have to do some digging."

Percy felt something twinge in his temples. "I don't have time for this," he said faintly.

"This isn't even all of it," said Deanna. "This is just what security cleared, so if you have any urgent correspondences… well, let's hope that water bill isn't due soon, huh?"

"There has to be a better way," said Percy.

Deanna shrugged. "All of the Ministry mail is going to be delayed for the next few weeks. Not only is there more of it, but security needs to make sure nothing's been sabotaged."

"We're going to have urgent correspondences that can't wait a few weeks," Percy said. "What can we do to quicken the process?"

"Our correspondence secretaries who filter through the mail are either stuck in London, injured in a hospital, or dead," said Deanna, rather bluntly.

Percy felt the same twinge in his head. He rubbed at his temples. "Right. Okay. Let's send out a call to the local temp agencies and put a job posting in the paper. We're the Ministry of Magic. We need to be able to answer our mail on time. Have Lindsay interview any potential candidates. Make sure they appear capable of learning on the job."

Deanna nodded. "And what about this box?"

Percy sighed and motioned over to the corner. "Somewhere over there."

She did as instructed. Percy let out a breath and tried to re-focus on the insurance forms that were stacked in pillars around him. A knock on the door interrupted him. Percy looked up and tried not to scowl. "Gleason."

"Read it and rejoice," Gleason said, plopping a newspaper down on his desk, sending a couple loose pages fluttering to the floor.

Percy glanced at the headline. "Interview with the Heroes of the Ministry This Afternoon.' The subheading read, 'Learn all about the harrowing details of the battle at the Ministry. Tune into the live broadcast'.

"Live broadcast?" Percy demanded, because he did not agree to that.

"Hey, once the radio stations learned that you were going to be attending, I've been receiving requests to air it non-stop. It's going to be a larger audience than the Quidditch World Cup."

The twinge in his temples sharpened. Percy sucked in a breath and massaged his temples, trying to ease it away. "You can't just spring this on me."

"What's been sprung on you?" Kingsley demanded, entering in the room. There was something sharp in his tone that had Percy glancing up, confused.

"Radio," said Gleason. "The press conference is going to be on the radio."

Some of the tension eased out of Kingsley, but he still frowned at Gleason. "Get a list of pre-approved questions out there."

"Pre-approved questions!" Gleason whined.

"Or Percy gets pulled," said Kingsley. "For Merlin's sake, Gleason, are you trying to send him back to the hospital?"

Gleason whined a little bit more, but then grudgingly moved off. Percy shot Kingsley a look. "I'm not going to faint again."

Kingsley grabbed a chair. "I think it's too much for you right now."

Percy shrugged. "Gleason knows what he's doing. It's useful to show a strong government to the people right now. And if that means sitting through a press conference, then I can do that."

"It's not just a press conference," said Kingsley.

Percy frowned. "What?"

"The Wizengamot rushed through the applications for several honors for those at the conference, you included. You'll be receiving a medal for your efforts in the battle."

Percy blinked for a moment. Something warm and vain bolstered in his chest, the way it always did when he got recognition for a job well done. It was followed immediately by a plummet of guilt. Why was he getting an award when others had died?

And then something dark twisted in his thoughts. A medal? He'd lost his vision, and he was getting a medal? As if that made it all better?

The sharpness in his temples became a bolt shooting through his brain. He dropped his head forward on his hands.

"Whoa, you okay, Percy?"

"Migraine," said Percy. He was used to migraines. Everyone knew he had migraines. He wanted it to be a migraine and not something else. Side effects of the glasses.

Kingsley dropped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Take it easy until this afternoon. Lie down for a bit. I'll have Healer James come up with some pain relievers."

Percy let out a breath. Pain relievers sounded perfect.

oOoOoOoOo

Bill paused for a moment, not quite sure he'd heard that right, and then reached out and turned up the radio.

"-his first interview since the attack at the Ministry," radio announcer Gladys Temple was saying. "The hero who saved the Ministry from falling into the wrong hands, Assistant Minister Percy Weasley."

"And that's not all," said Mike Patrick. "There are rumors that he'll also receive recognition from the Ministry for his actions, perhaps the Medal of Arthur, which awards valor and service to the nation."

"If anyone deserves it, it's the Assistant Minister," said Gladys. "And he'll be joined on stage by three other heroes of the battle, so remember, tune in for the ceremony. It will be starting today at 1:30."

Arthur reached by him and smacked the radio off. Stunned silence filled the kitchen. Bill glanced around at the family gathered.

"He'll be here," said Ginny, crossing her arms. "He won't choose an award over Charlie's funeral."

"He let Charlie die," Fred said.

"Oh, bollocks," Ginny retorted.

"You weren't there," George said, speaking up in defense of his twin. "We were trying to get down to the seventh floor. We were fighting Death Eaters because we were told that Percy was down there. We didn't see him."

"The Ministry is huge," Ginny argued back. "That means nothing."

"We swept the Ministry," said Ron. He looked up from his cup of tea. "We swept the Ministry, Ginny. We didn't see him."

"He was hiding," said Fred.

"Is that so bad?" Ginny asked. "He was trying to get to the self-destruct, and he was all alone, and maybe that was the best he could do."

"Hiding while Charlie died for him?" George asked. "Is that really the best he could do?"

"You don't know the full story," Ginny said, her eyes flashing defiance. "Until we hear it from Percy's mouth, we are not going to accuse him of anything other than doing his job."

"Oh, we're going to hear it," said Ron. "At 1:30 pm. When he gives an interview and gets a medal while Charlie gets buried."

Molly burst into tears and ran out of the room. Arthur followed her. Ginny glared at her brothers. Bill watched the glares get returned. And then he noticed Pansy, in the corner of the room, something hard and scary entering her eyes.

oOoOoOoOo

The interview was being held at the War Memorial Building. Rather fitting, Percy thought, all things considered.

He and Kingsley arrived early because there were plenty of matters to be dealt – and plenty of officials to meet with. The War Memorial was the closest building to the Ministry with extra space, and so it was already becoming a secondary Ministry site for the minor offices – the Department of Sports and Magical Animals and the like.

It was also commonly used for state funerals, and when Percy and Kingsley walked by the back hall, there was a funeral in progress. Percy recognized the portrait displayed outside of the closed doors. Violetta Gabny.

He paused and stared.

"She was found dead in her home after the Ministry fell," Kingsley told him. "The Violetta we saw that morning was an imposter."

There was an attendant at the doors. "The service just started, Minister," she said.

Percy looked over at Kingsley, and together they stepped towards the door. The attendant swung it open, and they slipped unobtrusively inside, followed by the more distracting contingent of Aurors tasked with following the Minister.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The clock drew closer to two pm. Bill couldn't help but watch the clock while he listened to the radio. He'd thought at first that Percy was going to be interviewed right at one-thirty. He'd thought that Percy would say a few words and then he'd come straight to the Burrow for the funeral.

But it was quickly becoming obvious that the ceremony was deliberately saving Percy for last. Bill watched out the window as the lawn filled up – relatives and neighbors and Order members all piling underneath the black tent that took up the entire front lawn. Bill remembered getting married there. The tent had been white then.

Bill had already listened to a few opening speeches. And then he had listened to a few awards given out. Laurel Heddy and Carlo Santiago both received the Medal of Arthur – civilian recognitions for their service to the country. George Parrish and Rudy Costace both received the Golden Shield.

Bill glanced at the clock now. It was minutes away from 2pm. The kitchen door opened and Arthur stepped in. "You coming?" he asked.

Over the radio, the Chief of Aurors was speaking. "And now, I ask that the Assistant Minister, Percy Weasley, join me on the stage."

The applause from the audience was thunderous. The radio announcer, Gladys Temple, had to pitch her voice louder to be heard over the applause. "The Assistant Minister is walking out now. You can hear by the cheers that he is the one everyone is excited for. His story and bravery have captivated the nation. He's shaking hands with the Chief Auror now."

Arthur stepped closer. Both he and Bill bent over the radio.

"Assistant Minister Percy Weasley," said the Chief Auror. "It is my great honor to grant to you the Staff of Merlin!"

The radio crackled with the cheers from the audience. Bill looked up at his father and they both stared, incredulous. The Staff of Merlin was the most prestige award in the nation.

And Percy had gotten it?

"Astounding!" Gladys Temple exclaimed into her microphone. "The Staff of Merlin hasn't been awarded in a century. It's reserved for the highest of honors, and it is clear that England agrees with this decision. The entire audience is on their feet. I can see the Assistant Minister looking rather stunned, it appears he did not know about this honor. He's shaking hands again with the Chief Auror, and now with the other honorees on stage. Official reports said he was seriously injured in the attack, but it is clear he recovered well. There are no visible injuries.

"And just listen to that crowd! Still standing. Still applauding. We'll have to wait until the end of the conference to hear what the Assistant has to say as he is scheduled last in the line up. We expect we will hear him around three o'clock, if everything stays on schedule. Now-,"

Arthur flicked the radio off. "Come," he said. "The funeral is starting."

OoOoOoOoO

Percy waited in the wings as Rudy and George finished up their interview. A make-up witch flitted about him, dabbing a little bit of potion to his face to make him less pale.

"Two minutes," an assistant told him.

The make-up witch dabbed one last spot on his face and then gently ran a soft cloth over the medal pinned to his chest. The Staff of Merlin.

Percy still couldn't believe it had been awarded to him. The highest honor for bravery and service to England. Percy was only the twelfth person to receive the medal. He'd been so shocked, so surprised, that he hadn't heard what the chief of Aurors had whispered in his ear as he pinned it to his robes. He'd been afraid his knees would give out from standing so long as the audience kept clapping and cheering.

Percy had only been expecting the medal of Arthur – like the other two civilians had received. He had no idea…

It was going on four o'clock now. The interviews and speeches were running over, and Percy was scheduled last. The others were on stage. Carlo and Laurel had taken seats on stage, their portion of the interview already over. Rudy and George were at the podium now, feeding off of each other as they talked about their ordeal during the battle. Rudy was the funny one, and George was the straight man. They could have been a comedy duo. They were half the reason it was going so long.

The moderator finally had them step back to join the other seated guests, and then Percy was called back onto stage.

Percy sucked in a breath and then stepped out onto the stage. The applause was less intense now. Maybe the audience was getting tired after two hours of pageantry. Maybe their hands hurt from clapping so hard for everyone else.

Percy crossed the stage, shook hands with the moderator, and then took his spot at the podium. He pulled the note cards from his robe pocket and carefully arranged them. He was supposed to start with his statement. Percy looked out at the audience and began his carefully planned words.

oOoOoOoOo

The radio was on.

Percy's voice was talking.

Molly wanted to listen, she truly did. Arthur had said that Percy had been given the Staff of Merlin, and part of Molly understood why Percy had missed Charlie's funeral. That award was so important, and so grand, it would be a hard thing to say 'no' to. Especially for Percy. Percy always loved winning awards.

Molly knew it was his way of trying to stand out from his brothers. She knew he was desperate for attention and validation, and she genuinely tried hard to give it to him. She tried to give all of her children equal time and energy, but the others tended to be so loud, and Percy so quiet, that sometimes he did get neglected.

And then when Molly tried to make-up for that lapse, tried to shower him with praise and affection, it seemed to only make things worse. It came off insincere, and the other boys, picking up on the extreme, thought it was something of a joke and teased him for the attention.

So Molly understood why he hadn't come, but she also wondered why he couldn't have just postponed the ceremony. Percy was always talking about his position in the government, and all the responsibilities he had. Surely he could have moved the press conference. Surely he could have at least asked his parents to delay Charlie's funeral. Arthur would have been furious to be sure, but Molly would have done it. If Percy had been that brave, if he truly deserved the Staff of Merlin, then he should have the opportunity to be recognized for it.

Molly wasn't quite sure what Percy had done, apart from setting the self-destruct on the Ministry, but it must be important if he was getting the Staff of Merlin. She tried to pay attention to Percy talking on the radio, tried to understand what he had done, but it was hard. Her mind kept wandering to Charlie. To his casket. To the hole in the ground.

There was applause on the radio, jerking her from her thoughts.

"And now the Assistant Minister will take questions from the audience," Gladys Temple announced.

oOoOoOoOo

Percy took a sip of water as the first reporter spoke up.

"Assistant Minister, can you describe what was your greatest obstacle in getting to the self-destruct?"

The questions had all been submitted to Percy and Gleason before the conference. Percy started his answer with a little pre-planned joke. "You mean apart from convincing the Minister to actually evacuate the Ministry and not don his old Auror robe to fight the Death Eaters?"

He paused for the laughter, not raucous laughter, but the polite chuckle of an audience eager for levity in dark times. He waited a few beats, and then continued. "Honestly, I had a lot of help from Auror Rudy Costace, who is here along with me today, his actions being appropriately honored."

Percy paused again, for applause this time, and even joined in.

Rudy took that as his cue to jump up and join Percy at the microphone. "I got taken out halfway through, but I assure you, that not even Potter himself could have fought the horde of Death Eaters I was up against."

More laughter, louder this time. Rudy was far better with the jokes. The Auror gave a jaunty little wave and then reclaimed his seat.

"After Auror Costace was injured," Percy continued, "I had to make my way to the self-destruct alone. Thankfully, being Assistant Minister means I know a lot of back passageways and shortcuts. Even most Ministry employees weren't aware of the route I was taking, much less the attacking forces. The hardest part was probably staying out of sight. I'm not the strongest dueler, so I really focused on stealth over brute force."

"Stealth?" asked a voice. An alarmingly familiar voice.

Percy frowned and glanced out over the auditorium. He spotted Gladwell Avery tucked into a side row. He was standing, his wand projecting his voice over the entire audience.

"Mr. Avery," said Percy, "I wasn't aware security was letting you in these days."

In fact, security was not supposed to let Avery in at all. The reporter was notorious for inflammatory pieces and general mayhem. That was the reason he had been barred from Ministry press conferences.

"You can't keep the truth of being reported, Assistant," said Avery.

"And you can't seem to stick to the truth," Percy responded back, keeping his voice neutral but stern.

"Let's have the truth then," Avery challenged. "By stealth, you mean you were hiding, weren't you?"

Percy could see several Aurors walking down the aisle, ready to remove the reporter, but Percy knew that would just cause a greater commotion. And then the public would start to wonder why reporters were being removed from the conference. They would start to wonder if Percy had something to hide. He leaned in to the microphone. "There is no need to remove Mr. Avery at this time."

The Aurors paused. There was a palpable tension in the room. Percy gave a bland sort of smile, one that said he wasn't troubled in the least by Avery's accusation. "I will answer your question, Mr. Avery; however, I daresay you will have to answer to the Aurors before you leave. Yes. There were times when I hid from the Death Eaters. If I felt that I could not defeat the forces at hand, I tried to avoid them, and if I could not avoid them, I hid from them, all while making my way down to the self-destruct trigger."

"It was obviously the better move," Rudy called out from the stage. "Seeing as I ended up unconscious after trying to force my way through."

There were a few laughs and a few murmurs from the audience.

Percy appreciated the backup from the Auror. He looked back at Avery. "Is that all?"

"Hardly," said Avery. "I understand you attended the funeral of Ms. Violetta Gabny this afternoon. Why did you attend Ms. Gabny's funeral and not other Ministry employees?"

Percy resisted the urge to sigh because of course a gesture of respect was now going to be taken out of context. Instead, he answered clearly and precisely. "The Minister and I arrived early for the news conference today. We saw that the funeral had just begun. As Ms. Gabny was a good friend of myself and the Minister, it seemed only appropriate that we stop in to pay our respects. Obviously, we cannot attend every funeral, although if it were possible, I would attend every funeral, and I believe the Minister would do the same."

"And what about your brother's funeral?" Avery asked. "Was it not possible for you to attend his service today?"

Percy paused. What?

What funeral?

Being a politician meant Percy never revealed when he was caught off guard. He never admitted to not knowing what the hell someone else was talking about.

He paused now, and glanced to the others on stage, hoping for some sign. He saw Rudy stiffen.

Percy extrapolated from that piece of information. Rudy was a liaison to the Order. He would know if the Order had suffered causalities. He would know if one of Percy's brothers was dead.

Rudy's body language told him that Avery's accusation was correct. One of his brothers was dead.

The world seemed to spin underneath him. The earth was re-setting on a new axis. One of his brothers was dead.

There were faint murmurs in the audience. Percy was taking too long to answer. The audience was wondering if the Assistant Minister had skipped his brother's funeral to attend an award's ceremony – hardly the message of valor and honor that the Ministry was trying to convey.

Percy had a job to do. He turned back to Avery. The reporter was waiting, a smug smile on his lips.

Percy opened his mouth and began to speak, feeling oddly removed from his body. It felt like he was listening to himself speak from across the room.

"At this time, I am not ready to discuss my personal life. The purpose of this conference was to honor the brave men and women who risked their lives in the battle, and I am very humbled to be a part of this interview. I recognize that my story pales in comparison to the others on stage today."

He paused, licked his lips, and continued. "I believe that, as a country, we need to hear these stories. We need to be reassured that there are brave men and women willing to rescue us, willing to save us, willing to die for us. That is why I came here today. Not for glory. Not for accolades. But to do my part in reassuring our great nation that we are still strong. We are still resolved. We are still united. I believe that the citizens of Great Britain will sleep sounder tonight knowing that."

Percy paused for breath and realized that people were applauding. A few people were standing up. He waited for the applause to die back down and then turned to Avery. He pinned the reporter with a look. "This is not a platform to draw attention to personal tragedies. Not when such tragedies are being felt across the country. I would ask that you respect that, and to respect my own need for privacy at this time. And now, Mr. Avery, I do believe it is time for you to exit this room."

Percy gestured for the Aurors to come down. They did and quickly whisked the reporter away. From the back, someone gave a cheer.

And already there was another reporter standing, a hand in the air, ready to ask a question. Percy glanced down at his note cards. There were so many questions left. There were so many answers to give and statements to make.

But who was dead?

Which of his brothers had died?

Percy stepped back from the podium. He tried to take in a breath, tried to steady himself. It wasn't working. He leaned back into the microphone. "My apologies. I will take no further questions."

He left the stage with an urgent step, barely hearing the murmurs from the audience.

One of his brothers was dead.

Kingsley was waiting in the wings. Percy walked past him and out the auditorium door.

Who was it? Who was dead?

Kingsley was following him. He was saying something. Percy couldn't hear him. He walked out of the building. There was a Ministry car at the curb.

What if it were Charlie? Oh, Merlin. Not Charlie.

Percy reached the car. He opened the back door.

"Percy, please wait," Kingsley said.

Percy turned. Kingsley looked distressed. Percy could extrapolate from that piece of information as well. Kingsley knew that one of his brothers was dead.

"You knew," said Percy.

Kingsley's face constricted. "The Healer said you weren't ready for the news. Percy, you're pale as a ghost. Let's find James."

"Who is it?" Percy asked.

Kingsley paused.

"Damn it, Kingsley!" Percy snapped. "Who is it?"

"Charlie," said Kingsley. "It was Charlie."

Oh, Merlin.

Percy hurriedly sat down in the back seat of the car because the world was spinning again.

"Percy, let's go back to Greenfriar," Kingsley said.

Percy pulled his legs into the car and shut the door. He engaged the lock and turned to the front seat. There was no driver – there didn't need to be a driver. "The Burrow."

The car pulled out.

Percy sucked in a breath.

Damn it, Charlie.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The black car pulled up to the house. Bill watched from the kitchen window. He'd been washing his teacup when the car had arrived, and he set the cup down now. Percy emerged from the back of the car. His robes were expensive. Bill didn't know why that was the first thing he noticed. Maybe because the sheen of his robes matched the sheen of the car.

Bill heard movement behind him and turned. Arthur had seen Percy as well.

Arthur cursed under his breath and that alerted the rest of the family.

They were all in the kitchen. The funeral was over. It'd been a short ceremony. They'd returned to the house afterwards because it was starting to rain and gradually the house had emptied leaving the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Severus, and Pansy.

They were all gathered around the table now because Molly had made tea, and then she'd made sandwiches, and then soup, and she would have kept going if Arthur hadn't made her sit down. The food was sitting on the table now. No one was really eating.

Bill leaned against the counter, feeling suddenly old and tired, and then the door opened and Percy stepped in.

Bill could see Percy tense as he took in the whole family, but then Percy's eyes rested on Molly.

"Mum," Percy breathed out, and he started forward.

"Where were you?"

The words were cold. The entire room looked over. Percy froze, mid-step, and turned towards Arthur. Bill hadn't heard that tone of voice from his father ever directed at one of the family before. It was usually reserved for the likes of Lucius Malfoy.

Bill looked at Percy, really looked at him, the way he used to study Draco when the teen was keeping information from him. Percy was pale. He looked tired. His eyes were pinched at the corners, which meant he was getting a headache. But there was no obvious sign of injury. No reason to why he missed the funeral.

No reason except the medal, pinned to his robes.

"I didn't know," said Percy, and there was a note of wretchedness in his voice that had Bill believing him. "I swear if I had known-,"

"How could you not know?" Arthur demanded. "We owled you. Twice!"

"The mail is – the mail is delayed," said Percy, stumbling over his words in earnestness. "It has to be searched, sorted. I haven't gotten any notice."

"His name is on the casualty list!" Fred spat, standing up from the table. "You don't need an owl for that, do you?"

Percy took a step back. Bill watched his eyes glance about the room. Percy opened his mouth, closed it, and swallowed. It could have been nerves, Bill supposed, but it looked like Percy was trying to decide what to tell them.

Percy licked his lips. "I haven't been given the casualty reports."

George scoffed. "Not so high and mighty as you make yourself out, are you?"

Percy bristled. "I've been on light duty. I was injured. The Healer hasn't cleared me for anything more than paperwork."

"Oh, so the Healer will clear you for a broadcasted press conference, but not your own brother's funeral, is that it?" Arthur asked.

"No! I didn't know about the funeral. Of course I would have come if I had known!"

Arthur stepped forward and flicked the medal on Percy's chest. "Would you have? Or were you too proud about this?"

Bill watched Percy glance down at the medal, and then back up at Arthur. Percy's face set into something stubborn.

"I behaved myself admirably during the battle, and I am proud of my actions, and proud that my actions were recognized. But that doesn't mean I would choose this medal over Charlie's funeral. Of course I wouldn't. But yes, I am proud. And I hope that you are proud of me as well." Percy paused. He took in a breath. "During the battle, when I was trying to get to the self-destruct, I-,"

"Used stealth, didn't you, Perce?" Fred called.

"Hid from Death Eaters," George added.

"We heard the whole thing," said Fred. He gestured to the radio.

Percy shook his head. "Yes, I did. That's not the full story though."

"Not the full story?" Fred asked.

"What the hell does that mean?" George asked.

"It means that he's taking credit," said Arthur, crossing his arms.

"Taking credit?" Percy repeated. His cheeks flushed, a stark contrast to his pallor. "Taking credit for something I actually did? Merlin forbid I actually recognized for saving the country when that's what I did!"

"Charlie died trying to save you!"

Bill glanced over at the table. Ron was standing, his chest heaving. His hand was clutching the table.

There was a beat of silence.

"What?" Percy asked. His face drained of all the color it had gained during the argument.

"We came across Rudy Costace," said Bill, pitching his voice gentle, because it was obvious that at the very least, Percy had truly not known about Charlie's death. "He said you were trying to get down to the seventh floor. Charlie wouldn't leave without you."

Bill watched Percy took a couple of steps backwards and shake his head. "No."

"He was worried about you," Bill continued, still gentle.

Percy scrunched his eyes shut for a moment, like he wanted to block out reality.

"We couldn't get to the floor," said Bill. "He was hit by a killing curse. He didn't suffer."

Percy let out a breath and opened his eyes. He shook his head. "He shouldn't have tried to save me."

"Shouldn't have tried?" Arthur asked. "And why is that? Is it because you weren't where you said you were? Is it because you weren't in any danger at all?"

Percy's eyes sparked. "He shouldn't have tried because there was no way he could have gotten to me. He should have just given up."

"Yes," said Arthur. "Precisely what I'm thinking."

Bill flinched at the statement and it hadn't even been directed at him. Percy let out a harsh exhale, like he'd just been punched in the gut.

"Arthur!" Molly called, her voice admonishing.

"I say dad's right," said Fred.

"Percy doesn't even care that Charlie died for him," George said.

"Don't care?" Percy asked. He strode for the table and slapped his hand down so hard that Bill jumped with the crack of it. "Don't care? You think that I don't-," Percy stopped himself, whirled around to face the door, and Bill glimpsed at his face. It was practically bloodless. Percy whirled back around to the table.

"Charlie was mine!" Percy proclaimed. He stabbed the table with his finger in emphasis. "Charlie was mine! All of you had each other. None of you even cared, but Charlie - ," Percy's breath hitched in. His body trembled. And then something in his expression turned venomous. He took a step back from the table, deliberately separating himself from the family. He spoke, his voice cold and vicious. "Charlie would be the first person to tell you all to go to hell."

The family collectively sucked a breath in, shocked into silence by the cruelty in Percy's words. Molly burst into tears. Fred lunged forward, but George grabbed onto him. And Percy –

Percy looked like he didn't even care. He turned on his heel and marched smartly out of the house.

Bill watched him through the window. He didn't get back into his car. Instead he walked to the family cemetery in the small grove in the back.

oOoOoOoOoO

The family cemetery was located in a small, continually overgrown grove of trees in the back of the Burrow. Percy had always liked the faint wildness of the plot – the moss and ivy that wound around the graves and the white and purple wildflowers that seemed to spring up as quick as grass. It was a quiet place, a quick escape from the chaos of the house. Percy had often spent his summers tucked away in this cemetery, content with a handful of books and his thoughts.

Now, though, another grave had been added. The grounds had been carefully pruned and clipped for the ceremony, and none of the peace remained.

Percy knelt by the headstone and took a breath of damp, fresh-turned earth. He brushed a hand over the inscription.

Charles Weasley

Son and Brother

Never Forgotten

Percy dropped fully to his knees. The tears that he had cried in the car ride over had dried. The only thing left was his anger.

"You're just too easy to bait, Perce," he could hear Charlie say.

The fact that the voice was only in his head didn't make it any less real.

"How, exactly?" Percy demanded of the gravestone.

"You take everything so personally," said Charlie's voice. "You know they're upset. You know they find someone to lash out at. You feed right into it, stoke the flames, and then you get mad when you get burnt. Go back in and explain. We're Weasleys, sometimes we have to be forced to listen."

"Like hell," Percy snapped. He shouldn't have to explain himself. They should have given him the benefit of the doubt. They'd give everyone except Percy a chance to explain themselves, and Percy's pride couldn't take it anymore.

He could hear Charlie sigh. "Why is it that you're at the most Weasley-est when it only hurts you? You can debate with the Wizengamot without getting angry. You can overlook an insult from a government official when etiquette asks it of you. You can turn your cheek to a whole slew of reporters when it suits you. But now that your family hurt your pride, you're holding the most epic of grudges."

Percy let out a breath. He placed a hand back on the gravestone. "Of course they took you, Charlie," he told the headstone. "You were the best of all of us."

There was no response. Percy sighed again and bowed his head. "I hope there are dragons for you to ride in the World Beyond."

A few splatters of rain fell. A couple of very deliberate footsteps warned him someone was approaching. Percy scrubbed a hand over his face and turned.

Severus Snape approached. He stopped a few feet away and inclined his head.

Percy stood. "You're looking well, Professor."

"Same to you, Assistant Minister," said Snape. "I had feared you were dead, seeing as I left you in the middle of an unpleasant conversation."

Percy heard what Snape wasn't saying. 'I'm sorry I left you to die.' He shook his head. "You were half a room away from me, Professor. And the Dark Lord is rather quick on the draw – seeing as he doesn't even need to use a wand anymore. There was no way you were going to reach me."

"Still," said Snape, "I was quite relieved to hear you survived. And I have been asked by the Civis Arma not to reveal what occurred in the Ministry, or I would have been more forthright with the Order about the crucial role you played."

Percy shrugged a shoulder. "The government needs some secrets."

"I do wonder, if perhaps it wouldn't benefit you if I did reveal more," Snape said delicately.

And Percy again heard what Snape wasn't saying. 'I could tell your parents what really happened.'

Percy scoffed. "I don't need you to fight my battles. Let them think what they will." He sucked in a breath and straightened his robes. He looked back at the house, and suddenly, it didn't seem like home anymore. "It's high time I said my good-byes."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Ginny heard the kitchen door open and glanced over. Percy re-entered. He cautiously glanced around, but there was only her and Bill left, cleaning up.

Percy cleared his throat. "I have to go back to the Ministry," he said. "Is Mum around?"

"In her chair," said Ginny.

Percy nodded and exited the room. Ginny finished drying a dish and then followed him to the living room.

Molly was sitting in her rocking chair. Her knitting was limp in her lap. Ginny watched Percy kneel beside her. She stopped rocking.

"Sorry about earlier, Mum," Percy said.

"Your brother's dead, Percy," Molly said, her voice strained. "Why did you have to say such hurtful things today of all days?"

Percy sighed. He reached out and grabbed her hand. "I know I make a mess of things sometimes."

"It's funny because you were always the neat one," Molly said, trying for a laugh. It came out a little watery.

Percy nodded and laughed a little too. "It's just… no one listens to me. I was trying to explain what really happened. Listen, Mum-,"

"We shouldn't need an explanation," Molly interjected, her voice imploring. "We should know what's happening in your life, Percy, so there aren't any explanations or excuses, but you shut us out."

"I wasn't the one who shut anyone out!" Percy said, his voice getting sharp. "Dad was the one-,"

"Please, no arguing," said Molly, her face looking pained. "Not today."

Ginny could see Percy's face fall a little, but then he schooled it into something more distant. "Of course. Not today. I won't upset you any further." He stood and kissed her cheek. "Be well, Mum."

"I love you, dear," Molly said.

Percy nodded and left the room. Ginny followed him to the door.

"Is it a good reason?" she asked.

Percy paused and turned to her.

"The reason you missed today," Ginny said. "Is it a good reason?" She could forgive him, was ready to forgive him, if he just gave her a reason.

"Good?" Percy asked. His expression morphed into sardonic, tilted lips and hard eyes. "Yes, it's a good reason. Is it good enough? Well, I think we both know the answer to that."

He gave a bland smile and left, the door closing after her with a sharp finality that echoed through the house.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Present Day…

"Well, that's a load of bollocks," said Pansy, feeling slightly let down by the whole thing. She hadn't expected the whole family drama to be caused by lack of communication. Overall, the whole thing seemed rather anti-climatic.

She watched Percy shrug and take another bite of coconut curry. About a third into his story he'd ordered take-out. He made Pansy pay for it, and for another bottle of wine, which he opened and poured this time. She was feeling slightly less guilty about drugging his dinner now that he'd had her replace it. And the bottle of wine had been pricey.

"Seriously," said Pansy, shifting to look at him more fully. "Why didn't you just tell them that you're blind? Rubbed their noses in it."

"I shouldn't have to tell them," Percy said. "No one else has to explain anything. I'm the only one that gets regularly interrogated. I'm not Weasley enough for them. Not noble enough. Not idealistic enough. Not poor enough."

Pansy snorted because it was a little bit funny. Not poor enough. Only Gryffindors would use poverty as a signal of superiority. The noble and honorable poor.

"You laugh, but it's true," said Percy. He put down his carton of curry and picked up his wine glass. "I'm too refined. Too polished." He gestured around him at his apartment, and Pansy laughed again.

His house was not refined. It was expensive, to be sure, and full of high-quality goods, but it was too comfortable to be refined. She looked at Percy, in his jeans and t-shirt, take-out on the coffee table, wine glass in his hands. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the wine. His bare feet were propped up on the table, his long toes curled over the edge. There was something refined about Percy though, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Too conniving," Percy said, a dark note in his voice. He took another sip of wine.

"Hardly," said Pansy.

Percy looked over at her. "You don't think I'm conniving?"

"You're not as clever as you think," said Pansy. "I mean, I just took you down. You knew I was someone up to no good, and you still invited me over, and you still ended up unconscious on the floor." She arched her eyebrow at him. "Sounds to me like you're a little stupid."

Percy shook his head. "That was simple risk-benefit analysis. I factored the potential benefit to be higher than the risk, and seeing as I'm still alive, it paid off."

"What potential benefit could you possible get from having me over?" Pansy asked. A sudden though hit her, and she felt a little disappointed. "Please tell me the benefit wasn't sex."

"What?" Percy spluttered. "No! I don't want to have sex with you!"

He sounded so sure of it that for one moment Pansy was slightly offended. "Well, why the hell did you invite me over?"

Percy turned to her. "I wanted to meet my niece."

OoOoOoOoO

Please review! :-D