Warnings: None that need stated.

AN: A little over a year later. Weasley household. Previously chapter 12. (Edited March 07)


Oliver Heads Off


I'm still not sure how I managed to let the twins drag me out and onto a broomstick before I left. Oh yeah, that's right, all that whining about wanting tips from a professional Quidditch player. What can I say; I'm a glutton for praise just as much as the next person.

Stretching out carefully, I tilt my head back to study the mid-afternoon sky and then let my eyes drop down to my feet where my bag and broom are settled. I don't think I'm leaving anything behind, and if I am I'm sure someone will track me down and send it to me.

"Oliver."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley?" I smile at her as she comes scurrying out of the house, holding a small package in one hand.

"You're going off to London to join your teammates, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Oh good. Could you be a love and drop this off at Percy's flat for me. I meant to give it to him before he left but I completely forgot."

I take the package out of habit, and then the words sink in. Percy left? "Percy has a flat in London?"

"Yes."

She doesn't seem to be ready to volunteer any more information on that. "Why did he come here then? I was under the impression from the way everyone acted and the things that you said that he still lived here."

"He did until just recently, after this past school year." Her features seem to have frozen into a mask of pleasantness. "And then he moved out, he wanted to be closer to his work. Percy is such a dedicated young man."

"Then why did he come back here instead of going to his flat?"

"He was supposed to visit for the weekend before he was called away. We don't see him that often. When he came back he was going to stay with us for a couple days but he had to leave, pressing business to be attended he said. Packed right back up and left."

"I was given the impression he was away and that he lived at home, though."

"I did say it was only recently, didn't I? Just habit, I guess, especially with him coming around to visit again."

I open my mouth but no words come out. It occurs to me that Mrs. Weasley is skillfully avoiding the question while answering it at the same time, though I can't imagine why. I look to the package she's handed over; surprisingly heavy for the fact it fits in one hand easily. There are no identifying marks on it save the Burrow's address and Percy's name.

"Do you have his address?" I ask after a moment.

"You don't have Percy's address?"

She seems rather surprised by this. I'm beginning to think that there is something very serious bothering her because the Mrs. Weasley I have come to know these past few days wouldn't have been surprised that I don't have his address knowing that I didn't even know he had a flat.

Maybe I'm just losing my mind.

"No, Mrs. Weasley."

"Let me write that down for you, then. Do you know London well enough to find it, you think?"

"Muggle London?"

"Well, I've never been there but he tells me it's something of a mix." She frowns slightly.

"I'm sure I won't have any trouble."

She hustles back inside, snapping something at one of the twin's on the way. My eyes fall to the package again and not seeing any warnings for it to stay upright I turn it over slowly in my hands. As far as I can tell the contents of the package don't shift at all. A stain on the bottom catches my eye. It's a rusty brown color, really out of place on the otherwise clean and faultless packaging.

Mrs. Weasley's return startles me. "Here you go, Oliver."

"Oh, uh, thank you."

"Are you sure you're well enough to Apparate there?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And you're sure you know where you're going?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you'd rather not take Floo Powder to Diagon Alley?"

"Mrs. Weasley, thank you, but I'll be fine," I tell her firmly.

"And you have all your things?"

"Yes."

"All right. Well, if you need anything..."

"I'll let you know."

"Be safe, Oliver."

"You too, Mrs. Weasley."

She stands there waiting expectantly. I kneel long enough to tuck the package carefully into my bag, thank goodness the majority of my stuff has been decreased in size or it wouldn't fit, and then I stand, bag in one hand and broom in other. I concentrate and twist on heel, and as I feel that familiar pull around my stomach, quite like a portkey's effects, I wonder who I pissed off in a previous life for all this weird stuff to keep happening to me.