Last weekend I was in Indiana, this weekend I'm in North Dakota. Next weekend I'll be in Illinois, and the weekend after that I'll be in South Africa (really!)
I had originally intended to finish this story by the end of the year, but it's become bigger than I had imagined. There's so much I want to say and I want to do Hermione and Percy justice. So if This Could Mean Danger isn't done by January 2nd, that's not because I lost interest, it's because I'll be travelling to Johannesburg.
-Gina
The day off of travelling by foot had done them all some good, and Hermione had declared that they'd get moving again after breakfast. Ron, now regularly dosed with Hermione's muggle painkillers, was more lethargic but also more cooperative in helping them to pack up and go. He'd even volunteered to wear the locket for a few hours, to give the two of them a break. Harry joined Hermione in examining the map. They were hoping to move to a location 10 kilometers southeast before pitching their tent for the night.
Hermione wished she could get Harry to talk to her. He'd been different, since the flying battle over Little Whinging. Ginny had managed to get him to talk to her at the Burrow, but he'd been more passive than usual, and quieter. Hermione knew the locket affected him, made his headaches and nightmares worse, but even when he wasn't wearing it he was still sullen. He talked to Ron about quidditch, and Hermione about research, but he'd all but stopped any voluntary communication that wasn't immediately relevant to their mission.
They arrived at the new location at dinner time, and Hermione made them a quick hot meal that admittedly didn't taste very good. She reluctantly took the locket from Ron and slipped it over her head, shivering at the cold metal.
In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea to read Percy's letter with a magical device around her neck making her miserable and grouchy.
Hermione,
The Muggleborn Registration Commission has been in the works for several months now, and was passed a few weeks ago. Their purpose, as you may have surmised from your visit, is to "catch" muggleborns who've "stolen" their magic from others. The dementors are there to guard the prisoners, and there's been heightened security all around the building as a result.
Breaking into the ministry last minute was not the best idea. If I'd known further ahead of time, I might have been able to be more help.
Percy
Percy must have just freshly written the message, because the ink was still very black and slightly shiny. Hermione vanished it in a huff and scribbled her reply.
Percy,
You knew about this for months and you only thought to tell me now, after we were almost captured? After Ron was almost killed? How could you not tell me that muggleborns are being imprisoned?
Again, if I had known that you were going to try to break into the ministry of magic, I'd have warned you. I didn't tell you about the MRC because I knew it would upset you. I'm sorry to hear you were almost caught and I hope that Ron is doing okay.
Percy
How could you keep this from me? I thought we'd promised to be honest with each other. You don't have to worry about upsetting me with information. There's a bloody war on, I need any and all information you could possibly give me. I am a muggleborn. There's a giant bloody commission set out to get me and string me up by my ankles, this information is very relevant! How could you?!
Hermione
From what I can see, you're plenty upset about this information. Again, I am sorry that I did not tell you sooner, I didn't mean to upset you and I certainly will not withhold information like that from you again.
Percy
Hermione was all but sobbing out loud when she received Percy's last message. She was grateful to have the little room in the tent to herself, where Ron and Harry couldn't see her. The locket was cold around her neck, and she couldn't seem to get warm, even with her long socks and an extra blanket. After thinking for a few moments for a proper response and only coming up with a slew of carefully chosen curse words, she gave up, tears staining the blank page as she struggled to stay quiet. Merlin knew Harry and Ron had no idea how to handle when she cried. They never had, not since she was eleven and hiding from a troll in the bathroom.
How could Percy have kept the Muggleborn Registration Commission from her? How could he not have told her that the ministry had brought in dementors? Or that they'd increased security? Or that Harry's head on a platter was worth all the gold in Gringotts? That information was important! Ron had almost gotten killed because they'd been stuck in a situation they hadn't known about. They'd gotten the locket by pure luck, and had managed to avoid capture by seconds.
She fell asleep on a tear-stained pillow and slept fitfully, with dreams of screaming and flashing green lights.
The second Percy saw Hermione's first response to his letter, he knew he had made a big mistake in not telling her about the Muggleborn Registration Commission. He'd made a point of never mentioning it in his letters. It was to protect her, he had told himself. It would only worry her more if she knew that the ministry was actively throwing people like herself into prison. But that lack of information, his purposeful omission, had had consequences. She was obviously furious.
And it made sense, he reasoned. She was research driven. She had a deep need within her to know all information available. Information was her trade, her super power. And she valued friendship and truth highly. It was one of the core principles of their own friendship-they'd become friends in the library, and bonded because of the truths they shared only with each other. He'd withheld information from her, and he knew how viscerally she was feeling the betrayal, as it had lead to Ron's injury.
But, he argued to himself, had Hermione really thought that breaking into the Ministry of Magic on a whim was going to turn out well? With only hours of notice, Percy hadn't had the chance to give her any useful information, or talk her out of it, or learn what her plan was so he could help. It had been a pretty stupid thing to do, honestly. The ministry was looking to turn Harry Potter over to Lord Voldemort, throw muggleborns into prison, and make life very difficult for anyone who disagreed with them. So why on earth did Hermione think going there had been a good idea?
He'd tried to placate her with an apology, but it was already late at night and he imagined now that he hadn't done a very good job of it and he had only wanted to go to bed and forget the entire week. It had been a trying day at work. Another group of muggleborns had been sentenced to life in Azkaban. Percy knew Remus and Tonks had plans to get another family to safety soon, but it was slow-going to plan it out. They could only fake so many car accidents while avoiding suspicion, and Tonks wasn't assigned to escort duty very often. Every time Percy sat in the courtroom for his required hours on the MRC committee, he wished bitterly that it had been that person's file that he'd destroyed.
We can't save them all, Remus had told him. But Percy always felt that he could never save enough.
Percy grew concerned when didn't hear back from Hermione the next day. She'd clearly been more upset about his sin of omission that he'd expected, and he knew she had reason to be, but what else could he do? He had apologized more than once, done his best not to rub it in her face that their plan had not been a solid one. He wasn't sure what else he could have said to alleviate her anger.
But now she was silent. Two days went by without a response, then three. In the meantime, Remus requested Percy's help in procuring short-term supplies for a family of four, and he did so promptly, just as he had the first time. Tonks caught his eye at work and twitched an eyebrow at him, the closest either of them could safely get to a greeting. He knew from Remus and from what he'd heard around the office that she had been promoted to Senior Auror in Kingsley's absence, despite her pregnancy. She was known for her quick wit, her excellence at disguises, and for her supposed neutrality in the coming war. Obviously, the last part was not at all true, but she did a superb job convincing the whole of the British Wizarding government otherwise.
The family was moved safely, and then a few weeks later, another was, and then another. Percy had come to expect Remus' quiet requests, and he looked forward to the call to action whenever it came.
Hermione still had not responded to any of the notes he left in her book. Occasionally, when he checked back in the book, they'd been vanished, so he knew that she'd read them, at least. But nothing more. He wished he knew more; knew that she was safe, knew that Harry and Ron were alright, knew where they were. If they needed help. Anything.
Then came Remus' next request, which was different than the last and made Percy's heart pound.
Percy,
There are two families that Dora is escorting to Azkaban tomorrow and we're planning to spring them both and get them to safety. Sorry for the short notice, but we've had a golden opportunity.
Would you be able to house one of the families for one night? It would be a father and two sons, ages 34, 14, and 12. They will be brought to you by Floo at 6pm tomorrow evening, and Dora would come to fetch them at 7am the next morning.
I wish I didn't have to ask this of you, but Bill's house cannot hold both families comfortably and you are the only other person in on this operation whose home is not being watched by the ministry.
Let me know ASAP
Stay safe,
Remus
Remus,
I'll take the family for the night. See you at 5pm.
Percy
The family, a muggle father and two sons, one magical and one muggle, were brought to Percy's apartment at 6pm on the dot. It wasn't the family that surprised him, but rather, their escort.
"Percy?" Bill Weasley stepped out of the floo network with the younger of the two sons. He was immediately on his guard. Percy hadn't seen Bill since he'd been mauled by the werewolf. The deep gauges were slightly curved with angry red and white raised edges. Even several months later, Percy wondered if they were as painful as they looked.
"Bill," Percy fought to keep his voice level.
"I didn't know you were our host," The muggle father was watching the two redheads square off, but his sons were already distracted, playing with an exuberant Juno. The elder one was wearing Hogwarts robes, and though Percy knew he was 14 years old, he looked younger.
"I didn't know you were the escort," Percy felt an awful lot like a kid brother, with Bill looking down at him with clear distrust etched on his scarred face.
"Everything alright?" The muggle father's accent, unmistakably Irish, made Bill turn, relaxing visibly in what Percy knew was an effort to help the father feel comfortable with yet another strange place with strange people.
"Yes, sorry. This is my brother, Percy. I haven't seen him in a while, so it surprised me that he was meeting us. Percy, this is Scott, and his sons Peter and Forrest. Forrest is the shorter one there with your dog," Bill's voice was light and friendly. If Percy hadn't known better, hadn't felt his heart beating in his ears so loudly he could barely think, he would have believed Bill's bluf.
"Welcome, I'm glad you're here," Percy said, and shook Scott's hand.
"We're glad to be here. Peter got his summons to that damned commission just last week, I had to pull him out of Hogwarts. No one has really told us what is happening, other than my son is in trouble for being a wizard,"
"I can explain more of that to you after dinner. I don't think your boys would want to hear about it," Scott, with the wisdom that parents seemed to gain some time around the age their children learned to speak, nodded with understanding eyes.
"Auror Tonks will be back tomorrow at around 7am to fetch you all and get you to your next stop. Percy will take good care of you until then. If you need Remus or I, you can have Percy floo for us. Alright?"
"Yes. Thank you again, Bill," Bill affixed Percy a long, meaningful look that clearly said 'we'll talk later' and vanished into the green blaze.
Percy made a quick, kid-friendly dinner, which the boys gobbled down, thoroughly distracted by the small touches of the wizarding world about the flat. It was easy enough to get the boys interested in playing fetch with Crookshanks and Juno while Scott helped Percy to clean up the muggle way. Under the cover of the running water and clattering silverware, Percy quietly answered all of Scott's questions about the necessity of their relocation. It was difficult to explain every detail, as Scott's experiences with the magical world were mainly limited to his young son. The terrible reality of the situation, which Percy reluctantly confessed to Scott, would likely have resulted in Peter's placement in Azkaban for life, and Forrest and Scott likely would have been killed.
Percy transfigured two cots for the study, and Scott took the bed Hermione had stayed that summer. It was a tight fit, but the day had been exhausting for all, and Peter and Forrest were soon asleep. Percy offered Scott a nightcap, and they sat up for a bit to chat. Scott was interested in hearing about what Percy did for a living, and about the wizarding world. Percy gave Scott the somewhat simplified version of his work as the junior assistant to the minister for magic. He told a few stories from his school days to give Scott an idea of what Peter likely had been studying before being pulled out a school. The two men, despite being near strangers, easily got along, and Percy thought maybe in another situation, they might have become fast friends.
Scott headed to bed after a while, but Percy stayed up a while longer. He couldn't recall all of the protective charms that came standard with the flat, and was terrified that they wouldn't be enough. That they'd be caught. That something would go wrong. Though realistically, Percy knew there was no reason for anyone to suspect he had any alliances with the Order and with the Anti-Voldemort movement, but now that he had fugitives in his home, everything was different. His mind raced as he thought through anything and everything that could go wrong.
Juno had been commandeered by Forrest for the night, and Percy knew the crup was likely asleep at his feet, as she was apt to do. Crookshanks settled on the sofa next to Percy as he sat, wand in hand, determined to stand guard for his charges. Nothing would get to them, not if he could help it.