Chapter Thirty-Eight
As Fleur stood on the beach, the New Year was six hours old. Finally, 1997 was gone. Despite marrying Bill in that year, Fleur could not say she mourned its passing. She had witnessed her husband grieve for two friends lost to war, feared for his life, watched her wedding explode into violence and chaos. No, she would not miss the year that had passed. What lie ahead of her was unknown, 1998 could well be worse than the year they were leaving, but with dawn more than an hour away, she would pray for peace. It would be enough.
"I feel like we've done this before," Audrey commented at Fleur's side. She was tapping a spoon against her thigh, watching the silhouettes of their men on the beach as they prepared to leave.
Fleur thought back to that morning they sent Catriona Wood into hiding with her baby. It was the morning that the Order of Mercy took its first steps. Now here they were with another mother and son. Taking Audrey's hand, Fleur gave it a squeeze.
"Time to go," Bill said softly, walking over to them. "We'll be back day after tomorrow. Better go say 'bye' to lover boy."
Audrey did not take even a moment to scowl at Bill before rushing over to say her farewells to Percy.
"Stay at Shell Cottage," Bill instructed, wrapping his arms around Fleur. "Don't open the door for anyone. Do you have all you need for the next few days?"
"Do not worry, mon Bill," Fleur murmured, feathering her lips over his scarred flesh. "Audrey will stay wiz me while you are away."
He squeezed her close. "Don't win the war while I'm gone, I want my turn at You-Know-Who."
"Sh!" Fleur rapped his arm. "Zat is not funny!"
Her mind conjured the faces of those she had failed. Ted Tonks, on the run somewhere. Justin Finch-Fletchley, dragged away from Platform 9¾ by Death Eaters. Scores of others. There was only so much a small band of rebels could do.
Bill kissed her. "Happy New Year, Mrs. Weasley."
"Be safe," Fleur whispered. She held him a little tighter until finally Percy called for them to leave. Keeping her hands on him until the last moment, Fleur reminded herself that Bill was only going to Romania. A mountain full of dragons was safer than their seaside home.
oOo
Travel to Romania required two stages. First, the Portkey deposited them on the coast of France where Percy had created a second Portkey that took them onto their final destination. Back to back Portkeys were disorienting. Bill's head was still spinning as his feet met the snow packed ground in the forest near the Andrei Cardei International Dragon Reserve, tucked away in the Carpathian Mountains, and protected by some of the strongest Muggle Repelling Charms Bill had ever seen. It was a massive, sprawling location housing the world's largest collection of dragons. It was also breathtaking, dotted with trees and lakes, reaching up to the sky as if offering its beauty to the gods.
Shaking his head, Bill looked around to see Percy in much the same state he was—on his feet but dizzy. A few yards away was a welcome sight. Charlie, baby cradled against his chest, helping Mary to stand. Bill couldn't help the smile that stretched from his ruined mouth to his eyes. Life and duty may have kept Bill and Charlie on far sides of the world, but it never severed their bond. The moment Bill saw Charlie, it was as if no time had passed.
"Oi, areshole!"
Charlie looked up and grinned. "I'd greet you properly, but I've innocent ears here, git."
The moment they shared came to an end when Charlie's eyes settled just beyond Bill's shoulder. The shorter man's mouth turned down, his brow lowering dangerously over his green eyes. Bill glanced behind him to see Percy fiddling with his glasses and watching Charlie. Bill's two nearest brothers had always had something of a rocky relationship. There were times when they got on famously—usually when Bill was away—but all too often Charlie was annoyed by Percy who was eager to be included with his big brothers. That the two had so little in common didn't seem to work in their favor as it did with Bill and Charlie. And then there was Charlie's temper. He was hardheaded and quick to anger, but quick to forgive, too. Bill was counting on that now.
He wanted Percy to come home. His latest reasons for staying away were valid ones, and hard to argue with. Everyone was in danger, a change in the status quo could be just the thing to tip them all into disaster, but they weren't a family of Gryffindors for nothing, were they? They hadn't been together, all of them, since the Quidditch World Cup, going on four years ago. It was time for that to change. It was time for Percy to be a part of the family, for Bill's blasted little brothers to start getting along like adults.
"C'mon," Charlie said gruffly. "We'll freeze our arses off out here." He turned to Mary. "It's a bit of walk, can you make it?"
Mary nodded. "I think so."
"Tell me if you change your mind. I'll Apparate you back to camp and let these wankers find their own way." Charlie opened the long, dragon-hide coat he wore, tucking the swaddled baby inside, and took Mary's hand to lead her down the path.
oOo
Percy looked around the cramped cabin. He'd never visited Charlie in Romania before, it had never even crossed his mind, honestly. Now, however, he was rampantly curious about the place Charlie lived. It was sparse but homely with family pictures on the walls and stacks of dragon books on the coffee table. Percy picked up some magazines and chuckled. Girly magazines, too.
"Ah," Bill said when Percy showed him. "I can see that Charlie's reading preferences have changed little since our Hogwarts days."
"I used to knick his Playwizards out of his dorm during my fourth year," Percy admitted. "It was Oliver's idea. He figured it was safer to steal from Charlie than Fergus."
"That was you?" Charlie emerged from the bedroom, his muscular arms crossed over a broad chest. He was glowering at Percy, and not over his lost pornography.
Percy had known facing Charlie would be a trial, but it couldn't be avoided if he ever wished to return to his family. Someday. That date seemed to hover in the distance, constantly moving out of reach like a bad dream. Only he wasn't dreaming, he was in a mess of his own making and so he must submit himself to the whims of time.
That didn't mean it was easy for Percy to do. Frustration filled him as he stared into Charlie's enraged face. Percy knew he should be humble, ask for his brother's forgiveness, but he just wanted to get this whole thing over with.
"Alright," Percy bit off. He tossed the magazine onto the sofa and whipped off his glasses. "Let's get this over with. If you could just give me a black eye and not bust my nose, I would be grateful."
Charlie was a blurry red and copper shape, but Percy could tell that he had moved towards his little brother. "Gladly. Let's just step outside."
"Knock it off!" Bill cuffed Percy against the back of his head. "Put your glasses back on. Charlie is keeping his fist to himself this time around."
"After what he said?" Charlie bellowed. "What he's done?"
"You weren't even there," Bill shot back. "You're just going to take the twins' account for the truth. As if they aren't a bit biased."
"It was pretty awful," Percy admitted.
Both older brothers looked at Percy, Charlie jerking a hand in Percy's direction.
"I was…well, I was a prick," Percy continued, shoving his glasses on and looking at the ground. "An ungrateful prick, actually."
"See!" Charlie said.
"That's not the point," Bill grit out.
"It is though, isn't it?" Percy asked.
"See!" Charlie agreed.
"Unless you actually have something constructive to add, shut it, Charlie," Bill growled.
"How did you think this would work, Bill?" Percy asked, turning to his eldest brother. "Charlie would hug me and say how much he missed me?"
"Don't bloody well think so," Charlie muttered, crossing his arms again.
"First of all, Charlie and I do not hug," Percy pressed on.
"Agreed." Charlie nodded.
"And secondly, it shouldn't be that easy. I don't want it to be. I said horrible things to our father, I have hurt our mother repeatedly, and I walked out. I need to make amends, and if Charlie feels as though he needs to punch me in the face…well, so be it."
"You were always a realist," Charlie said, cracking a grin. "It's what I liked best about you. Unlike William. He always thought being oldest gave him the divine right to fix everything with a snap of his fingers."
Percy smirked. "Yes, well, it is a serious character defect."
"He's never really had to work for anything. He could always count on being brilliant and charming."
"He does have a tendency to be insufferable."
"Aren't you two precious," Bill said dryly, bracing his hands on his hips and glaring at his younger brothers.
Percy and Charlie laughed, the older of the two moving to the kitchen. Relief washed through Percy. He thought maybe, if he were very lucky, the worst of it was past him, and it hadn't been nearly as difficult as he had feared. For the first time since he took Scrimgeour to the Burrow last Christmas, Percy had a glimmer of hope that he truly could have his family back. Though, he had to admit, Charlie wouldn't be the most difficult brother to win over. He hadn't been there that night when Percy yelled those horrible things at their father, nor was Charlie the type to hold a grudge. No, the twins and Ron were much less likely to forgive Percy, and he couldn't blame them. He'd let his little brothers and Ginny down.
Glancing at Bill, Percy allowed a small smile. He suspected that Bill was hoping for just this result when he invited Percy along on this trip. Well, Bill was right as usual. Annoying really.
"How does Butterbeer sound?" Charlie called from the kitchen. "Or something stronger?"
"Shouldn't we stay sober?" Percy said. "In case Mary needs help with the baby."
"Always the responsible one," Charlie said. "You stay sober, Bill and I will get pissed. It'll make forgiving you easier."
"On second thought, I'd like something stronger," Percy said. Under no circumstances was being the sober brother to Bill and Charlie's drunkenness a good idea.
"Good man." Charlie grinned and poured three tumblers of Firewhisky.
oOo
"When was the last time the three of us got drunk together?" Charlie asked. He was tipped back in his chair with a mug full of Firewhisky propped on his chest.
"Augusht 1994," Percy slurred, holding one wavering finger in the air. "It wa-wash the day after you got home for the Qui-Quid…the World Cup."
They were sat at Charlie's small kitchen table. It was a piece of furniture that had seen better days. It bore a scorch mark, more scratches than Bill could count, and one of its legs was shorter than the rest and propped up on more girly magazines. Bill stared down at a witch who kept pushing her bosom up with her hands and winking at him. Merlin, Charlie was a bachelor. Maybe bringing Mary and the baby here was a bad idea after all.
"We went out with the Woods," Charlie muttered, his chin sinking onto his chest.
Bill glared at his second brother. Charlie was a sentimental drunk, if they didn't change the subject fast he would start crying like a bloody little girl. The last thing Bill wanted to do at that moment was sit in Romania with his brothers and cry over the loss of their friends. Time to sacrifice Percy for the cause.
Slapping Percy on the back, Bill smirked at Charlie. "Guess who has a girlfriend?"
"Ah, did ickle Percykins finally find a girl who would shag him? Good on you, mate, you had to part with your virginity one day."
"Audrey did not take my virginity." Percy swelled up, his head held precariously high, then hiccoughed.
The older brothers dissolved into laughter, which was cut short by the baby's cries. Charlie's chair legs banged against the floor as he stood to retrieve the child from the bedroom. Bill busied himself with preparing a bottle.
"Where's Mary?" Bill asked when Charlie emerged from the other room with only the baby cradled in his thick arms.
"Why wake her?" Charlie replied with a shrug. He was already pulling the blankets loose. "One of you give me a refresher course on how to change a nappy, yeah?"
Percy cleared the table with his wand, and the two men lay the baby and all his supplies across the top.
"We're going to have get you some clothes, little man," Charlie cooed, he stroked the back of the baby's hand with one broad finger, and the child latched on. "And probably some more nappies, too."
The baby was looking up at Charlie, whose face was pressed close.
"My father-in-law has an account to cover refugee expenses," Bill said. "I'll see if I can get you some blunt to cover Mary and the baby's stay."
Charlie shrugged and scooped the baby up after his nappy was changed. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad to do my part—Merlin knows I've done little else for this damned war."
"Dumbledore gave you a job and—"
"Shove it, Bill," Charlie said. Despite the inherent harshness of his words, Charlie's voice was mellow. He took the bottle from Bill and put it to the baby's mouth. "I've done less to help in the fight against You-Know-Who than Percy."
Percy glared at Charlie. For a moment, Bill waited for the inevitable blow up. The words were more than unfair, which was the point. Charlie was just taking a dig at their little brother, a little jab so that Percy would know that not all was forgiven. Instead of defending himself, Percy slammed his chair in and stalked to the couch, throwing himself against the cushions.
"Don't be an arsehole," Bill muttered. "Percy's risked his life these last months."
"The way you've done for the last several years?" Charlie shot back. "You nearly died, Bill. Hell, Dougal and Fergus did."
"You've been hiding Muggle-borns along the Romanian mountainside since August, and who do you think is responsible for their escape from persecution," Bill said. "There would be no Order of Mercy if Percy didn't risk his life to bring Fleur the names."
Bill's hands strangled the back of the kitchen chair, his knuckles white with strain. He stared from one brother to the other, but neither spoke. In fact, they were resolutely not looking at each other or Bill. Fury was like bile in Bill's gullet. Charlie may not have hit Percy with his fist, but he'd certainly aimed a blow at their younger brother where it counted. But Bill was equally pissed at Percy for refusing to defend himself. Maybe Percy felt he had it coming, but he was never going to win back his brothers' trust or regard by rolling over and playing the whipping boy.
"That true, mate?" Charlie asked quietly, his eyes trained on the suckling baby.
Percy looked up. "Yes."
"You got some bollocks."
"Cheers."
"Now move," Charlie said, shoving Percy off the sofa. The older brother kicked off his boots and reclined against the cushions, the now sleeping baby across his chest.
"What are you doing?" Bill asked.
"Going to bed. You wankers can have the floor."
"Shouldn't you put the baby back with his mother?"
"Nah, he can stay with me," Charlie replied and kissed the top of the baby's head. "We've got to find you a name, little man."
"Charlie, the baby won't be here forever, maybe you shouldn't start any bad habits like letting him sleep on your chest," Percy said, fiddling with his glasses.
"Just for tonight," Charlie said. He waved his wand, and the lights dimmed.
Bill and Percy exchanged exasperated looks in the semi-darkness.
oOo
Percy was awakened by a strong finger poking him in the face. Inhaling deeply through his nose, Percy lie very still and willed his brother to quit being a bloody git. Not that it worked. It never worked. As far as Percy was concerned, he was related to the greatest lot of prats on Earth. Finally, Percy snatched the finger and bent it backwards until he heard Charlie yelp.
"You wanted something?" Percy asked.
"We really pissed off Bill, huh?"
Everything about the cabin was cramped. With Charlie on the sofa and the coffee table pushed against the wall, there wasn't much room for two men above six foot two to spread out on the floor. Bill had taken the spot nearest the fire, turning his back on his brothers and tossing a vulgar hand gesture at them. That left the spot next to Charlie for Percy, which was just what Bill had planned no doubt.
"He deluded himself into thinking we would kiss and make up," Percy said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you wake me up for a little gossip session?"
"Nah, little man is getting restless," Charlie replied. "I reckon he'll need a bottle again soon."
"You should wake Mary."
Charlie hummed noncommittally. "So, everything Bill said about you is true?"
"Yes." Percy dragged the word out. He didn't want Charlie to think he was boasting. He didn't want to be that person anymore.
"Why did you do it?" Charlie asked.
"Well, it's about time I did the right thing, isn't it?"
"No. I meant why did you walk out."
Percy glanced up at the couch, but even if it wasn't dark, he didn't have his glasses on. Everything was a dark, blurry shape, yet he imagined that Charlie was looking down at him, taking his measure. Percy was filled with the need to live up to his older brother's expectations. That need was a suffocating force that expanded in his chest until it hurt to breathe.
Clearing his throat and pounding his sternum, Percy tried to find the right words.
"I know you and Bill…I know none of you understand it, but working at the Ministry, moving my way up to a position of power, it was all I wanted. I was as driven as you are by your dragons. I got that position in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, it was small but with loads of potential. I thought—I really thought that I was proving myself indispensible…and then everything blew up. There was talk of sending me to Azkaban for Merlin's sake."
"You were scared," Charlie said quietly.
Percy folded his hands over his chest. "Yes. Scared and humiliated. Fudge's offer felt like a lifeline. I thought-I thought…I wanted Dad to be proud."
"But he wasn't."
"Not by a long shot. I was furious." Percy's eyes stung with unshed tears. He took a deep breath to try to rein in his emotions. He just wanted to own his mistakes and move on, the time for crying was over. Besides, Charlie was the last person Percy wanted to see him cry.
"And what's kept you away all these years?" Charlie asked, his voice bland. He was asking a simple question, and though Percy searched for it, there was no extra emotion packed into his words. No recrimination or accusation, just an opportunity to explain himself.
"Pride. Stubbornness," Percy answered. He sighed, and added, "I didn't feel I deserved their forgiveness. That's the real reason I help the Order of Mercy. Pretty selfish, huh?"
"I don't know, Perce, you're doing a hell of a lot of good at the risk of your own life. Maybe all of this had a purpose. Think, if you had listened to Dad in the beginning you wouldn't be in a position to help the Muggle-borns."
The room was dark but for the dying embers of the fireplace. All Percy could make out above him was blackness, but it provided the correct amount of contemplation. Charlie's words played in Percy's mind over and over. He'd never thought of it that way before. That something good could have come from this separation from his family and everything that happened with Penelope. He had never quite connected the dots on how one thing led to another, but now it seemed obvious. Furthermore, Percy liked the person he was just beginning to grow into. Would Percy be the man he was now if it hadn't been for all his missteps and failures? He couldn't help but feel the answer was no. If Percy hadn't turned his back on his family, if he hadn't been shown a fool time and again, he would still be that insufferable parchment pusher who had first joined the Ministry. Would Oliver have stuck around for that? Would Audrey have ever flirted with such a stuck-up prick?
Percy regretted the things he said to his father, he regretted how things ended with Penelope, he could not regret the man he was becoming.
"What are you doing?" Percy asked.
Charlie was sitting up, his bare feet close to Percy's face. "I'm going to change him and give him a bottle. Go back to sleep."
"Really, Charlie, I think you should wake Mary. She's having a hard time bonding with the baby."
Charlie hummed deep in his throat. "We see that sometimes with the dragons, poor woman. 'Course the dragons usually eat their young when they've failed to bond."
"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that," Percy replied dryly.
Their conversation ended when the bedroom door opened and a female figure padded out.
"Go back to sleep," Charlie whispered, nudging Percy with his big toe.
Percy resisted the urge to stab his big brother in the foot with his wand.
A lone candle flared to life. Rolling onto his stomach, Percy put his glasses on and watched Charlie talking to Mary. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, looking up at Charlie and nodding every few words. Once again, Charlie turned his dinner table into a changing table, the baby squawking indignantly at having his bits exposed to the cold world.
"Have you thought of a name?" Charlie asked.
Mary was fiddling with her wedding ring. "I should name him Michael, after his father, but…it doesn't feel right."
"Having your father's name is a lot of pressure, probably for the best," Charlie reassured. "What about Pax? It's Latin for 'peace'."
It was also the Roman goddess of peace. Percy wondered if he should pipe up with that information. After all, the baby may not like being named for a goddess one day, but Percy held his counsel. Naming the baby Pax, it was like saying a prayer. One small hope for what could be.
"Peace?" Mary looked at the baby. "I like that. Pax Michael Lathrop."
Charlie finished the nappy and placed the baby in Mary's arms. Even in the dim light, from Percy's perspective on the floor, Mary looked awkward. Actually, she looked as if she'd been handed a dragon rather than her own baby. The little guy knew it, too, squirming and fussing. However, Charlie seemed unfazed, gently pushing mother and child into a chair before fixing the bottle.
"You know," Charlie said. He squatted before Mary, bottle in hand. "If you put his body against yours, skin to skin, he'll settle right down."
"Skin to skin?" Mary looked down at her woolly cardigan then, slowly, unbuttoned the top three before fitting Pax against her chest. Just as Charlie had promised, the baby pressed a hand against his mother's breast and melded into her. "How-how do you know so much about babies?"
"They aren't so different from all the baby critters I used to hide in my room when I was a kid."
Mary took the bottle from Charlie, a tentative smile on her face. "Your mother must have loved that."
"You've no idea!" Charlie chuckled.
oOo
The war ground on through those early months of 1998 without relief in sight. Just as the Order of Mercy resumed their efforts, so did the Muggle-born Registration Commission. It was like a Muggle factory, churning endlessly, polluting the air with its belching smokestacks, grinding out its commodity of fear and rumors. In opposition was a small band of witches and wizards. Too small, really.
Everyday, families went missing. Before the month of January concluded, the inevitable happened. Death Eaters attacked Xenophilius Lovegood in his home. It was only once students returned to Hogwarts that it was discovered the man's daughter was kidnapped. No one could quite piece together the events that led up to Luna Lovegood's disappearance. Her father hadn't reported it, but the kidnapping was assumed to have happened over Christmas holidays. McGonagall was the one to alert the Order of the Phoenix, regretfully adding that the pupils were keeping mum on the subject. It was another reminder that no one was safe, not even school children, and especially not those who fought against dark magic.
Meanwhile, Diagon Alley was a ghost town as even old Tom shuddered the Leaky Cauldron, leaving the twins as the last shopkeepers, besides Gringotts, reckless enough to keep their doors open. Never let it be said that goblins could be terrorized out of doing their job. Hogsmeade was little more than a prison where residents dreaded leaving their homes. The previous autumn may have been marked by confusion and disbelief, but the austere winter left no doubts except for one.
Where was Harry Potter?
Deaths and disappearances were announced daily on Potterwatch, but Harry Potter's whereabouts were a mystery. Fred and George urged the public to keep hope, but in February when the Order of Mercy failed to keep some of their own family safe, hope seemed elusive. The Spinnets were gone in a night. Two generations of the family, leaving Alicia alone.
It was with the promise of spring at their fingertips that Percy came across a familiar face in Umbridge's files. Long after the woman had left for the day, Percy knelt by her desk, duplicating her files, when blue eyes he knew too well blinked up at him from a photograph Spellotaped to the folio. He swallowed harshly, staring at it for longer than he should. Why hadn't he considered what danger she was in sooner?
Penelope Clearwater was invited to testify before the Muggle-born Registration Commission on suspicion of theft of magic.