June 26, 1998

Percy entered the lift at the Ministry of Magic with a spring in his step. It was Friday morning - the best day of the work week and he had dinner plans with Audrey that night as something more than friends.

His excellent mood vanished as soon as he entered the reception area for the Minister's suite and a maroon-robed Auror blocked the path to his office. "Special Assistant Weasley? You're needed in the holding cells," the man greeted him.

"Er, thank you, Auror- " Percy replied, trying to remember the man's name.

"Dawlish. John Dawlish," the Auror supplied in an officious way as he led them back in the direction of the lifts.

"Oh, of course," Percy said. Dawlish was not a Death Eater, merely an unimaginative Auror who followed orders to the best of his ability without thinking them through. The Auror's humiliating defeat by an octogenarian witch and subsequent hospitalization at St. Mungo's had been the talk of the Ministry. "I'm glad you've recovered from your altercation with Madam Longbottom."

Dawlish flushed. "She was rather spry for an old lady," he said stiffly.

Too late, Percy realized he might have offended him. Social graces were not his forte. "Oh, yes, of course," he hurriedly agreed. "They're quite crafty once they reach that age."

As the lift descended to the bowels of the Ministry of Magic, the Auror's use of the past tense registered with Percy. "Wait - you said she was a spry old lady. Is she dead?" If Voldemort was now killing off elderly, pure-blooded matriarchs, then things were even worse than Percy feared.

"No, her grandson joining the Death Eaters saved her. She's just under house arrest," Dawlish reported as the lift arrived with a bump. "Though I'm not so sure how spry she is now, after being tortured."

"Of course," Percy said in a flat voice. "So, who have you captured? Another Muggleborn claiming to have magical ancestry?"

He hoped that was all it was, and that none of his surviving brothers had been caught. All of them were wanted criminals and blood traitors, according to the new regime.

"It's your sister," Dawlish said with a nasty smile as they exited the lift and made a left, heading away from the courtrooms and towards the holding cells. "We brought her in on suspicion of murdering her husband."

Percy stopped dead and gaped at him. "Ginny?" he said stupidly, since he had only the one sister.

"Yes, these morons arrested Ginevra last night." Rabastan Lestrange stepped in front of them, his eyes bloodshot and face haggard. "You need to help me get her out of here, Weasley."

"Of course," Percy nodded.

Lestrange rounded on the Auror. "This is an outrage, putting a pregnant, pureblood witch near Dementors! She's carrying the Lestrange heir!"

"We're not in the habit of releasing murderesses, just because they're members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight or pregnant," Dawlish said with an obstinate set to his jaw.

"Well, I suggest you rethink that. I'll have your head if she miscarries, and I mean that literally." Just in case the Auror misunderstood, Rabastan rolled up his sleeve and brandished his Dark Mark in the other wizard's face.

"Do you think I'm impressed by that?" Dawlish growled. "Threatening an Auror, Lestrange?"

Percy interrupted the chest-puffing with a dry cough. "Auror Dawlish, what is the evidence against my sister?"

"The evidence is that Rodolphus died from the Killing Curse and it's impossible to Avada yourself," Dawlish stated.

"That's all?" Percy asked.

"No, that's not all," the Auror bristled. "Rodolphus and Ginevra were having a row in her bathroom. Rabastan heard shouting and screaming, and a house-elf who popped in on them was gibbering about blood. She must have gotten ahold of her husband's wand and killed him after he hit her - no one else was there."

"She couldn't. Her wedding band prevents her from harming any member of the Lestrange family," Rabastan protested.

"So you say," the Auror scoffed. "But you seem unusually protective of your sister-in-law and not all that concerned about your brother's death. Perhaps that's a motive right there?"

"What does Ginny say?" Percy asked, practical-minded as always.

"Some faradiddle about Lestrange trying kill her but the spell backlashing against him," Dawlish reported with patent skepticism.

"He was under a magical oath not to use Unforgivables against her," Percy advised. "It's quite possible his own spell turned against him if he attempted to break that oath."

"Unforgivables against his own wife?" Dawlish echoed, appalled. "I don't believe you, Weasley. Nice try, but I think you made that up to protect your sister."

"It's true!" Rabastan shouted. "You can ask Charlus Nott - he was there!"

"Or maybe I'll ask Ginevra, under Veritaserum," Dawlish said, a sly look on his face.

"Is it safe? For the baby?" Rabastan asked with an expression of real concern. Percy thought it was ill-suited to his face.

"It's safe enough, but since she's a minor, the Ministry needs her guardian to consent. Ordinarily, that would be her husband, but since he's dead . . . . That's why Weasley's here."

"Yes, I'll sign whatever paperwork is necessary," Percy agreed immediately. Anything was better than having Ginny exposed to Dementors, and he was confident the truth would exonerate her. "But as she is a minor, I will need to be there when she's questioned."

"Me, too," Rabastan chimed in.

Dawlish gave an indifferent shrug. "Suit yourselves. Follow me." He led them back to the holding cells, where two Dementors were prowling the corridor. The Auror raised his wand and summoned his Patronus - a bulldog - to banish them as Percy shook helplessly, seeing his father's death flash before his eyes.

Ginny was huddled on the floor in the far corner of the cell, crying and whispering to herself. "Harry . . . the baby . . . Tom . . . Trixie . . . ."

Dawlish entered her cell to administer the Veritaserum. "Open up, witch," he ordered gruffly, a dropper with the clear potion in hand.

Ginny cringed against the stone wall. "No, no! I'll bite you!" she threatened, her eyes darting frantically.

The Auror took advantage of her panicked protest to squirt the Veritaserum into her mouth. Almost immediately, Ginny's face went slack as the truth serum took effect.

"Did you kill Rodolphus Lestrange?" Dawlish asked, not mincing words.

"No," Ginny said immediately.

"Who killed your husband?" he asked.

"Not my husband, not anymore," Ginny corrected.

"Who killed Rodolphus Lestrange, then?" Dawlish rephrased, sounding frustrated.

"Stupid bugger killed himself," she slurred. "Tried to Avada his wife in the mirror and got himself instead. Deserved it, too . . . glad he's dead."

Percy stepped forward, shaking off the lingering effects of the Dementors stationed outside the holding cells. "You've gotten the answers you needed, Auror Dawlish. There's no reason to continue holding my sister."

"No, I suppose not," Dawlish conceded, deflated. "Let's head back up to the Auror Department. I'll fill out the necessary paperwork and return Madam Lestrange's wand."

"Don't call me that," Ginny hissed. Some color was returning to her face as she recovered from exposure to the Dementors, but she had to take Percy's hand - reluctantly - to stand up from the cement floor of the cell. He tried not to feel hurt when when she released it almost immediately, wiping it on her robes for good measure.

"You're not married anymore. Once you have your wand, we can go to my flat. I'll make you a mug of hot chocolate," he offered in a soft voice as the walked towards the lifts, following Dawlish and Rabastan. That had been their dad's cure for all ills when they were growing up.

"Hot chocolate?" his sister said venomously. "I've been through hell and back, and the best you can offer me is a fucking mug of hot chocolate?"

"Dad always said - " Percy began.

"You killed him. You don't get to quote him," Ginny said in a flat voice. "Trust me, brother dear, when I say that hot chocolate doesn't fix everything."

Percy swallowed hard, remembering that his parents' response to Ginny's possession by a Horcrux at age twelve had been hot chocolate and a scolding. "I'm sorry, Gin."

"I would appreciate it if you could put me up for a few days," she said grudgingly.

"You're more than welcome." Percy spoke with sincerity. "To whatever you need, for as long as you want."

Rabastan turned his head fractionally in their direction, the only warning they had.

"Confundus," the surviving Lestrange brother said, jabbing his wand against Auror Dawlish's temple. Quick as a viper, he rounded on Percy.

"No!" Ginny screamed, as the jet of red light streaked from Rabastan's wand towards her brother.

Percy tried to duck. Too late, was his last thought, before unconsciousness took him.

He came to in a Ministry supply closet hours later, according to his watch. "Oh, bugger me," he swore, suffering from a massive headache and even larger sense of having failed his family - again.

Adding insult to injury, when he made his way back to his office, Lestrange had sent him an owl - and the damned bird had shat all over his desk while waiting.

"Shoo!" Percy ordered the evil avian, after removing the rolled-up parchment it clutched in its talons. "Don't expect a treat for your message."

After making sure to ruffle all of the paperwork it had soiled, the owl hooted and flew off, clearly in a sour mood. "That makes the two of us," Percy muttered.

After Scourgifying his desk and what could be salvaged of his in-box, Percy opened the scroll of parchment with greatest reluctance, knowing what it would say.

A sense of glee practically radiated off of Rabastan's spiky letters, as though imbued into the ink:

Dearest Brother-in-Law,

So sorry you missed the wedding! It was only a registry office affair, if that's any consolation. With the bride so recently widowed, anything more would have been gauche. Your safe conduct holds, so you may toast to my happiness with your lovely sister and wish us a long and fruitful marriage on your next visit.

Rabastan

Percy made a disgusted noise and crumpled the parchment. "Smarmy bastard," he muttered. "What about Ginny's happiness? And the marriage might be fruitful already, but it won't be long if I have any say."

A/N: Reviews were down quite a bit last chapter, which I hope is due to one of website's periodic tantrums and not an indication that the quality of the last chapter wasn't up to par or that Theo's storyline is less than gripping. (You could tell me if you thought so - really. I write as a hobby, but also to improve as a writer, so I do welcome constructive criticism.)

What that means is the reviews that did come in last chapter are all the more special to me - many, many thanks to each and everyone of you who left a comment! EggDupont, keep that hope alive. MrsMorgan813 - I totally agree, and the centaurs' vagueness makes them so fun to write - and keeps my options open.