Disclaimer: Don't own.

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It had not been a fun few weeks. Percy could admit this to himself. After Berodach had explained about Ginny and he having berserker tendencies of all things, he'd expected something to change. Classes had piled on more work, he'd kept a closer eye on his temper and started making a point of talking to Ginny about her feelings on a regular basis. She was warming up to it faster than he was. Otherwise, they hadn't made too much progress. Things felt the same as ever - besides the obvious.

"Are you sure you're not cold?" Ginny pressed, holding her scarf out towards Luna. The little blonde had followed them up to the Gryffindor stands, not realizing they'd be out here for an entire game. She had just a light jacket on and Percy had already offered warming charms and his own coat. Par for the course, Luna shook her head to Ginny's offer, as well.

"I am filled with the warmth of a competitive spirit," she informed them airily. Well, it was surprisingly balmy for the beginning of winter, so Percy would let her be. For now.

Brows furrowing and chest puffing in preparation for battle, Ginny looked rather more set in her course.

On Percy's other side, Hermione shuffled through some official looking documents and muttered, "Just let it go." Beside her, Ron snorted.

He was inclined to agree with the sentiment. The only reason he was out here in the first place was to see to the safety of a large chunk of the Gryffindor quidditch team he begrudgingly called his own. Luna was blatantly care-proof and he was not planning to add worrying over her lack of foresight to his list of problems.

Really, if he could have rationalized the lack of vigilance, he'd be sorting his own notes, too. Or figuring out whether he had accidentally given Flint a much more obvious indication of interest than he had intended. Percy had actually had to flee the other boy once this week to keep him from confessing. Or so he assumed. Flint had been fidgety and nervous during that study session, and he'd clearly had something to tell Percy but thankfully, there was that standing appointment with Audrey to attend.

Couldn't argue with finishing his dead mother's Christmas sweaters.

The thought sat heavy. He felt momentarily disconnected from the excited pre-game chatter and Hermione's dark muttering about her inability to concentrate.

As his attention narrowed, his own callousness set his chest to tightening, sent just a small thrill of fear down his spine- but Percy forcefully wrenched his mind from the thought. The match would be starting soon. Draco and Flint would both be flying, as well.

It was strange to have people on the Slytherin team he knew personally.

Jordan began his colorful introductions as the players flew out onto the pitch, prompting Hermione to slowly close her book, tucking the papers inside. Percy clapped politely along with everyone else, but he didn't hold a candle to Ginny's warlike scream as her brothers and Harry were introduced.

He'd have appreciated her enthusiasm better from a few seats away. As it was, he found himself momentarily deafened, though it had shocked him fully back to reality, at least. Hermione didn't look much happier, clapping hands over her ears with a long-suffering expression as Ron whooped. She caught his similar grimace and leaned in.

"Last year, we sat with Neville and Hagrid towards the back, and it's still horrendous."

Given that Ginny and Ron had not been close to the only ones to scream, Percy could believe it. He hadn't attended most of his brothers' games last year.

Fred and George looked confident up there, swooping and circling around each other gleefully like the human bludgers they were before Hooch called for the captains to shake hands, signalling the start of the game.

Furious patterns sketched through the air as the quaffle was thrown and the match began in earnest. The two bludgers were released and beelined each for a target - before one bludger dropped out of the sky.

It had been heading for Harry; the boy still hovered uncertainly where he'd been preparing to dodge it as Madam Hooch whistled sharply for a time out and the stands erupted in confusion.

"Could someone have missed with a curse?" Hermione demanded, already getting to her feet as if to take to the field, Ron right on her heels. Her eyes darted across the crowd suspiciously.

"It'd take more than a wayward curse to affect a bludger," Percy denied, but it would be very much in line with the way he and the rest of the Weasleys had been victim to a string of bad luck the past few weeks. Hermione, by proxy, had suffered the same. Tripping on air, missing items, and poorly aimed projectiles had dogged their steps with a loyal persistence none of them appreciated. Percy might have suspected the twins if they weren't afflicted the same as the rest. As it was, his main contender was Peeves.

But Peeves had never interfered with a match. And it wasn't truly bad luck the way the rest had been. The bludger had sort of… died.

Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were down on the pitch now, hovering over it with their wands. Professor Snape stood not too far away, scowl visible even at this distance as he awaited their verdict. There was a distinct separation between the Slytherin and Gryffindor players, even as they continued to swoop and swirl like agitated gnats while the professors' diagnostics drew on.

"Oliver wouldn't cheat," Percy concluded aloud in a murmur that only Hermione caught. It might seem that way to the professors below, but Percy knew Oliver was not the type. He hoped the players knew that, too, given they'd been able to have a few friendly games to get to know one another.

"Oh, I hadn't considered that. It'd be foolish to do something so obvious, wouldn't it?" Hermione worried her bottom lip, "I'm sure Headmaster Dumbledore will sort it out, whatever it is."

They were consulting with each other, a grounded Harry worriedly fidgeting between them. Finally they came to some conclusion, Professor McGonagall pressing her wand to her throat to call in a magically amplified tense shout, "Percy Weasley, please report to the pitch. Now."

Huh. He'd asked to be involved when Harry was in trouble, but for some reason Percy didn't think it was the case this time. Maybe it was the tightness of her voice. Or the fact that only the headmaster wasn't sternly staring him down as he navigated the stands.

"Mr. Weasley," Headmaster Dumbledore held out a welcoming hand as he joined them on the pitch, waving him in. Percy wasn't particularly fond of the idea of being surrounded by the unfriendly suspicion of his professors, but obediently entered the loose circle anyway.

He took up Harry's left and turned to face them, asking uncertainly, "How may I help you, professors?"

"Harry has a curious little trinket on his person that seems to have deactivated this bludger's animation." A twinkle in the headmaster's eye showed he wasn't all that upset with the discovery. He continued blithely, "It's clear, at least, that it isn't the intended purpose. However, as it is interfering with the game, we asked that Harry remove it - only to learn that he cannot. Only the person who created and secured this protective talisman can. Is that person, in fact, you?"

"Yes," Percy confirmed, mind ticking away at what had been revealed. His anti-Dobby amulet had caused this? Caused a bludger to drop from the sky, inert? It hadn't reacted during any of Harry's practices or the friendly, mostly Gryffindor-Slytherin pick-up games. Of course, Headmaster Dumbledore was likely correct as to the cause but- why? It only made sense if Dobby had been involved.

The silence dragging on passed easily around Percy as he mulled this over, but weighed more heavily on his professors. Professor Snape grew increasingly dour as the seconds passed.

"If you might remove it, Mr. Weasley?" prompted Professor McGonagall, lips tight.

That would be… inadvisable. Considering.

On the other hand, a professor was asking - ordering it done. Did he have a choice here?

He couldn't, though. Not when it might still be necessary.

"I…" Percy took in Harry's hopeful glance and felt his heart sink. He had had such a good relationship with him thus far, and now he'd be the same in Harry's eyes as he was with the rest of his brothers. But it was more important he be alive to learn to hate him. Percy turned back to the professors, straightening his spine and folding his hands behind his back, "I don't think I should remove the amulet, professor. It has never affected the bludgers before. If it has now, it means the bludger has been tampered with and shouldn't be in the game at all."

"I could not find any trace of that," the headmaster denied. But his tone was inquisitive rather than quelling. Almost encouraging. "On the other hand, I could not identify the spell you used on your… amulet, was it? - either. Merely that it had exerted some force on the bludger."

"It's a family practice," Percy answered distractedly as he reached for his other awareness. Stretching his will, he could feel the faint memory of a connection to the bludger, vanishing into the distance. It was a familiar energy, considering Percy had once trapped it within his own will and demanded answers. Dobby. He felt a bit sick just touching its echo. It was easier to rip through it, knowing it'd fade to nothing. Stop reminding him of what he'd done with its presence. Percy stripped the weak bond away like sweeping cobwebs.

The bludger rocketed off into the air, barely missing Harry and him as it sped between them.

"Well, it's clearly not interfering anymore," Percy concluded. "So the… person at fault must have given up. Professors," he added belatedly, blushing lightly as he came back to reality. He always sounded so rude when he wasn't paying attention. Probably because it was, in fact, rude not to pay attention.

Harry tugged his sleeve, lightly, eyes narrow on the path the bludger took. "Was it… something he did then?" The whisper was quiet enough not to carry, even if it only made Professor Snape's glare sharper. At least the potions master wasn't asking.

And Harry didn't seem nearly as betrayed as Percy had expected. It let the tightness in his chest ease a little. He murmured back, "The amulet did its job."

The annoyance that overtook Harry's expression was, Percy suspected, aimed more at Dobby than Percy. Especially as he nodded and ducked his head in thought after the exchange.

Professor McGonagall's brows drew together with concern, "Percival Weasley, I must insist on an explanation."

"We are, however, holding up the game," remarked the headmaster lightly. "Perhaps you might join me in my office, Mr. Weasley?" At Professor McGonagall's attempt to speak, Headmaster Dumbledore added gently, "I'm sure I can handle this on my own, Minerva."

That sounded like trouble. Specifically, it sounded like Percy might be in trouble. Even though he had known that'd be the likely outcome of refusing to follow direction, it still made a part of him claw up through his stomach with cold panic. He swallowed the feeling, giving the headmaster a silent nod.

Percy followed Headmaster Dumbledore off the pitch, trying to figure out how much he could say. How much he would say. He'd rather stay until the game's end - just to make sure Dobby didn't try again to do… whatever he'd intended. But it was out of his hands, now, and the amulet clearly functioned just fine.

It would be fine. He ignored the niggling fact that he was trying to convince himself more than anything and took a deep breath as they walked toward the castle.

"I have never been a fan of walking alone, Mr. Weasley." Headmaster Dumbledore's soft rebuke made Percy's cheeks burn hotter; he picked up the pace to take the headmaster's side. He'd been following a step behind out of deference, but he should have guessed Headmaster Dumbledore wasn't the type of man to expect that.

The wind whipped past in a brief gust of cold that had him briefly wondering if Luna yet regretted not taking his jacket when she had the chance. A distraction that didn't last as they entered the building and made their way through the still stone halls.

"I wonder," the headmaster began, "what sort of magic holds together a clever little trinket as that. It is a fetching shade of red."

That wasn't something Percy particularly wanted to answer with any honesty. Not when he still had Lucius Malfoy running around. "It's not illegal or dark, sir. It's just an old family practice Muriel taught me."

The next question was equally affable, but Percy felt the rhythm was strange. As if Headmaster Dumbledore were choosing his words carefully. "Would it be fair to assume Harry has had this amulet on his person since start of term?"

Percy instinctively extended an arm as they reached the stairs, which the headmaster gripped lightly with an easy smile. His fingers were thin and pale, blue and purple veins clearly visible beneath spots that revealed the true extent of his age.

"Yes, sir." Dipping his head, Percy kept his gaze on the stairs as they ascended. He wasn't exactly being rude, but circumventing the truth like this certainly wasn't polite. It made his insides writhe unpleasantly, so he elaborated, "I'm sure you can understand why I would feel the need for a small layer of additional protection… Given the events of this summer and last year's… incident with Quirrell. I'm especially glad of it, now that I know why Quirrell made his attempt."

"Ah, Minerva did say she'd explained Voldemort's involvement," Headmaster Dumbledore mused aloud, an undertone of sorrow in the words as he patted Percy's arm with his other hand in response to the habitual flinch. "No need to fear a name, Mr. Weasley. Not under the wards of Hogwarts, and certainly not when its owner has little claim to anything greater than simple existence."

Now this was a subject Percy wanted to explore. It had the added bonus of turning the focus from himself. Luckily the headmaster's office wouldn't be far, now. The halls were nearly empty, too; most everyone was out watching the game.

"How can you be sure, sir? With You Know Who alive at all, there's a chance he could regain his strength, isn't there?"

Bright blue eyes glanced sharply at him from behind half-moon spectacles.

Oops? Percy wasn't sure what he'd said that was suspicious. Or maybe the headmaster was simply weighing how much to tell him? Either way, Percy felt it was in his best interests to shut up for a while.

"It is possible," the headmaster allowed finally as they approached the gargoyle guarding his office. He spoke the password quietly to the guardian and it rustled to life, stepping aside smoothly. They stepped onto the spiral staircase within, waiting as it began to twist upwards like a corkscrew, delivering them to the top. "Your parents have always been some of my most loyal friends."

The words hit like a punch to the gut and Percy couldn't step through the office door right away. Headmaster Dumbledore had entered and settled behind his desk before Percy could convince his limbs to unfreeze enough to follow. Still every move felt stiff and ungainly.

"It is on that credit that we have not had this conversation before. Something in which I fear I may have been remiss." Nestled among his collection of shining artifacts, the headmaster was firmly in his element. The room was large, but he dominated it nonetheless, drawing the eye regardless of the number of spinning and ticking mechanisms that surrounded him. It was oddly disconcerting, considering the almost friendly chat they'd been having up until now.

"Sir…?" Percy prompted uneasily when the headmaster appeared content to continue sizing him up in silence. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Minerva has always kept me informed as to her lions and their growth. Imagine my reaction once I learned that one of her most ambitious, after being robbed of his parents and their guidance in one fell swoop, has turned to none other than Lucius Malfoy for mentorship. The very same boy who has been growing close to one for whom, I fear, Mr. Malfoy has less than kind intentions. For whom Voldemort has less than kind intentions, as you have previously noted." Headmaster Dumbledore had his hands folded on his desk, no wand in sight. His tone was even and his eyes piercing but not maliciously so. Yet Percy's heart was jackrabbiting in his chest as if the headmaster were about to cast a spell at it that instant.

This was far too close to his plans. Lucius and You Know Who, his parents. Even if the headmaster was approaching it from the wrong angle, the pieces were there. Ready for assembly if Headmaster Dumbledore merely flipped the board the other way around.

"There are other ways for Voldemort to return," the headmaster iterated cryptically, sending Percy a shrewd look. "You're correct in that. It is that which makes darkness so difficult to banish. There are many ways one can cast a shadow while trying to spell a light."

"Headmaster," Percy began slowly, trying to keep the waver out of his tone. It was far too close. "I believe you mean to say that Lucius Malfoy may lead me astray, but I assure you, I have no intention of… taking his advice. If I might explain my situation…" There was something he could tell the headmaster, without it revealing the plan Headmaster Dumbledore would never condone. Taking a breath, Percy spread his hands placatingly, "Lucius Malfoy is one of the largest donors to St. Mungo's, and for that, his word holds weight. He recently pushed for the long term ward to be… downsized. I only hoped to change his mind, but if he knows of You Know Who's survival, I doubt I could make any headway with a man such as him. Is… that what you're implying, sir? That Lucius is aware?"

"I find it unlikely that Voldemort would seek out the Malfoys in his weakened state," the headmaster said after a lengthy silence spent mainly searching Percy's eyes as the prefect tried his best not to look away. His fingers had knit together before he spoke and he was assessing Percy like another man would weigh a sack of carrots in his hands before a sale. It was clear he found something there as he continued, "There is a truth to your answer I cannot deny, Mr. Weasley. Yet I ask that you humor an old man's worries a short while longer; in any other circumstances, I would be appalled at a man asking such questions as I must. Alas, in matters of life and death, propriety is not what is proper." He sighed, a touch melancholic before he continued more firmly, "If you will answer, do so honestly that I may lay my own concerns to rest. I do not flatter myself when I say I am a fair hand at discerning mistruths." He waited until Percy nodded uncomfortably before he asked clearly, "What is your interest in Harry Potter, Mr. Weasley?"

"Um." He'd seen this coming. He had . Ever since the headmaster had mentioned Lucius Malfoy and You Know Who in the same paragraph. Of course, anyone would be suspicious of someone newly untethered who willingly tied themselves to the Malfoys and You Know Who's supposed vanquisher in a matter of months. Especially considering that Percy had never… never truly fit in with his family. It was exactly that perception that he intended to use against the Malfoys in the first place.

Unfortunately despite this foresight, Percy was still not sure of his own answer. Why did he care about Harry? He was Ron's friend, true, but so was Hermione. Jordan, too, was a close friend of his siblings, along with Luna. He hadn't drawn them in the way he had Harry.

Luna, was, of course, her own category and thus, incomparable anyway.

But Harry was alone in a way the others weren't. Perhaps that was his answer.

"He strikes me as needing someone to take responsibility for him, sir." As he said it, Percy realized exactly what a massive insult he had just delivered onto the entire school staff. Before he could backpedal, but after the instantaneous draining of all blood from his face, the headmaster laughed.

"You are just the man for a job such as that, Mr. Weasley," he stated plainly, the frostiness that had been prickling at Percy's awareness thawing away as the headmaster favored Percy with a fond half-smile. The sharpness had not faded from his eyes, but he seemed far less intimidating, his presence reduced to his body once more. "I believe I can trust in that sentiment. Is there anything else you'd like to share with me?"

Merlin, no. That was more than enough for one day. Percy's heart couldn't take it. He just wanted to leave. He'd probably be in time to watch the end of the Quidditch match, if he hurried. Harry was rather quick on the catch, but it hadn't been too long. Nothing too terrible could have happened. Hopefully.

He returned the headmaster's smile, grateful to escape.

"Nothing comes to mind, sir."

.

"I'm pen pals with Albus now," Berodach informed him with a bemused expression on the other side of the ward line. The far side of the Quidditch pitch was evidently outside Hogwarts grounds - and also within walking distance of Hogsmeade. They'd originally arranged to meet up after the game with a few of the younger Weasleys, but Percy had lost track of them. Especially as Harry had caught the snitch minutes after he'd left. Everyone he'd passed on the way out to the pitch had been talking about it. Considering he and Berodach had expected a longer game, Percy had spent a few blissful hours just doing homework before the time to meet Berodach rolled around.

Thus, no little Weasleys or Harry. At least it allowed them to speak unfettered.

"I'm not shocked, but I am amazed you've picked up pen pals among your modern slang," Percy returned, not looking up from his pacing. "I just had a heart-to-heart with the headmaster, myself, and I can't help feeling he knows something I don't know. About You Know Who? Or the Malfoys?"

Tone even and steady, Berodach reminded him, "We have a plan, and we can't take into account what we can't take into account."

Percy stopped pacing, tugging his earlobe once with an aggrieved sigh, "I know that."

"And I have made a great deal of progress on my side of things. Albus and I are getting on well; he seems to find me amusing in any case. I've made the rounds with the family and they're… mostly delightful. Which reminds me, Charlie had no idea I existed, as it appears he hasn't sent or received letters for a couple of months now-"

"You visited Charlie?" Percy interrupted, holding a hand out to stop the flow of the report. While Berodach had been planning to introduce himself to the Prewitts and Weasleys Percy knew, it was one thing to hop about the islands and quite another to head to the mainland. "In Romania? To introduce yourself?"

"It was a bit more difficult than I remembered, considering you're not in an active war. I assumed border security would have lessened, but then again…" He wobbled a hand in the air, making the metal ends to his thick braids clink against one another as his head tilted in acknowledgement of his own point, "Two dark lords in the time I was… gone goes a way towards explaining that."

At this point, Percy had his face in his hands. "You didn't go through customs, did you." It should have been a question, but the tone was too resigned. He'd really thought… "I'm guessing you're actually more on Fred and George's side of law-abiding."

"No, no, it's perfectly legal," Berodach straightened hastily, stepping up to where they estimated the wards began. "I'm technically an active soldier of the Ministry and I'm… not really beholden to customs. I may be the only active soldier, since they appear to have leaned into Aurors and Hit Wizards instead of maintaining a standing army. Despite… the two dark lords. I am still not sure of the logic there, but I will figure it out. The point is, I am still on the roster as part of an elite unit that can visit the mainland without alerting… anyone. Until the Ministry realizes that acknowledging my status as alive automatically reactivated everything else, that is."

"Which should take a while, since there's no army to speak of, and no reason to check the old rosters," Percy concluded. "Alright, that's fair. I'm not a big fan of it, but it's legal."

Flipping his new-ish wand up and into his other hand, Berodach fidgeted with the replacement in thought. He tapped a finger against it, "What was I saying before we started down this tangent?"

"You visited Charlie in Romania on your rounds to let the family know who you were and that you were alive." The prompt was delivered as Percy sank to the ground, sitting against a supporting pole for the Ravenclaw stands. The washed out blue and bronze fabric barely rippled at the touch, being thickly weatherproofed in layers of potion designed to last decades at a time. "And Charlie apparently hasn't read my letters."

"Ah, he said he hasn't received any," Berodach corrected. "Having been introduced to Errol, I would not be surprised if it were true."

Alright, he had to allow that one. The family owl, Errol, was ancient and he needed retiring ages ago. Ginny's Siffy was meant to be his replacement, but Ginny had been guarding her owl zealously, citing his exhaustion as the glossy young thing preened at her side.

There were, of course, school owls to use, but Errol would have been insulted. He'd somehow made it to Hogwarts and refused to return home in the past month. Possibly because he didn't want to hunt for his dinner, but that was something Percy didn't feel the need to analyze too deeply.

He didn't truly care about the motivations of the family owl; it just meant he was sometimes forced to use him.

"It's a distinct possibility," he conceded, leaning his chin into his hand, elbow on his raised knee. "How'd he take it?"

"All well on the eastern front," Berodach snapped a salute before following Percy to the ground, settling himself on the other side of the ward line. "He seemed relieved to know there would be another adult around. I believe. I am not well-acquainted with him."

"Makes sense, I suppose. He's been distant," Percy's tone was musing but his fingers flicked in an irritable gesture at which Berodach quirked a smile. Catching the reaction, Percy sat upright, drawing tensely into himself like a cat ready to pounce, "What?"

"You- er, you picked up something I've been trying to stop," Berodach explained obliquely, fighting the smile futilely until it took over his expression entirely. He pointedly flexed his hands in that familiar, aggressive gesture that had been so natural as a ghoul. Percy flushed a bright red at the implication. "It's perfectly natural, of course, we all pick up gestures from those we socialize with."

"I know," Percy asserted, crossing his arms and losing none of the tension he'd gained in the past minute. Nor the blush that plainly revealed his embarrassment, despite the airs he was putting on. "It's not important right now, though, is it?"

"No, no, you're right." They had much bigger worries to focus on. It was why they'd set up this meeting in the first place. Still, Berodach added, "It is… nice, though. As if it's proof I'm really here."

Truly looking cornered, now, Percy took in Berodach's earnest expression and made a face that encompassed such resignation that Berodach almost wanted to take back what he'd said. Was it a burden? To know that Berodach still struggled with… reality? After years of being trapped in near-isolation, he couldn't be expected to come out entirely unscathed.

In Berodach's inattention, Percy had stood and marched over. Hesitating only a moment, he crossed the assumed wardline with a militant determination and stooped over to give Berodach a truly awkward hug. Given that Berodach was seated, his head was the main recipient, pressed into Percy's stomach.

Ah. He hadn't wanted to break the rules.

"As a prefect, I can technically cross the wards in an emergency and there's no alarm if I do," Percy recited above him as if the thought had been foremost in his mind as well, not relinquishing his hold. "Plus, the other prefects typically don't loop around the pitch on patrol unless it's a particularly quiet evening."

Reaching up, Berodach tried his best to return the embrace. This unexpected attempt at comfort reminded him greatly of Pernilla, when he'd had leave to visit. She would actually demand he sit down so she could hug him from 'a position of power.' His sister would have this gleeful glow as she ordered him around that had always made him laugh. That was probably part of why she kept doing it.

He found himself reaching out with his will for Percy's and gently pulled that back, tightening his grip on the physical plane instead. No need for that when Percy was right here.

"Right, about the touchy-feely will throughout the day," Percy said immediately, having somehow noticed the aborted action without seeming to pay any attention to his other senses. "It's giving me pretty intense migraines, due to… Hogwarts."

The vitriol in the word was matched only by the exasperation twisted through it and Berodach drew back with a bemused laugh, pushing down the twinge of guilt to keep from falling into it.

"You sound just like your mother when you say it in such a hateful manner."

Eyes shuttering, Percy looked off into the growing shadows of the forest as he muttered darkly, "I didn't realize she was right until I had to deal with it, myself."

"I will try to keep myself to myself," Berodach promised, holding his hands up as if to show they were free of tricks. His tone slipped into something uneasy, "Though at times, I don't notice it until it's done."

"Hello?"

Though both of them jumped, Percy was the one to move, stumbling a step back over the wardline and shuddering. They had clearly guessed correctly as to its location. He turned toward the voice as Audrey made her way across the rocky soil that dominated the area around the Quidditch pitch. Trailing a little behind her was her fellow Hufflepuff prefect, Gabriel Truman. He seemed a bit put upon as his voice reached them.

"That's just Weasley," he was saying to her as she continued her trek.

"And…?" she gestured towards Berodach, distrust evident in the sharp motion.

Though the question was not directed at Percy, he felt the need to address it as she and Truman came to a halt at a distance they could easily dodge incoming spells. Prudent, given the strange adult who appeared to have walked out of the Forbidden Forest. All the more reason to nip this misunderstanding in the bud before it could blossom.

He stepped between them confidently, "Nothing to worry about, this is my- my…" What was Berodach, anyway? While he stalled out, confidence instantly wilted under the weight of explaining Berodach, the problem himself appeared to be counting something on his fingers.

"Second cousin's great, great, great, great, great granduncle?" Berodach suggested, going back to his fingers and mouthing great 's under his breath as he considered.

"My uncle," Percy corrected with an air of finality. The word made the most sense given their relationship and it was part of their blood relation. "In a sense. What are you doing here?" Now that it was established the Percy knew the potential intruder, he hoped to turn the focus away from their meeting. As such, he hadn't waited to give her a chance to question him.

"We started evening patrol a bit early and saw you while we were walking past the pitch," Audrey crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrows raising. "A strange man talking with a student at the edge of the wards would concern anyone. Of course, if he is your 'uncle,' he can just come back later with a visitor's pass, right?" She smiled at Berodach with the same sweetness as the honey in an agitated hive. Her eyes didn't leave him as she prompted, "Percy, it's nearly curfew; we can walk you back."

"He is family," Percy insisted. She was clearly giving him an out if he was there against his will. It was kind of sweet. And her duty as a prefect, of course, but… Well, Percy wasn't really used to being the one protected. More pressingly, she was inching her hand towards her wand and he didn't want a fight to break out. He held his hands out placatingly, shifting more fully between them to block the line of sight, "He's just here to hear how the twins' and Harry's game went, since he lives in Hogsmeade now. There didn't seem to be a need for a visitor's pass when he's not planning to step onto Hogwarts grounds."

"And now that I know they won and no one was injured, I'll just be heading out now," Berodach suggested, rising to his feet and taking a few steps back towards the forest. He shot her a charming grin, "It's clear now that Hogwarts security is fierce and my niece and nephews are surely safe with this young woman at the ready." He winked, but she didn't soften her stance, so he turned his gaze back to Percy instead. "I'll see you next Hogsmeade weekend? I'll be learning to bartend under the madam's supervision in the evenings, but I should have the mornings off."

Percy nodded, "Of course."

Something tense in the line of Berodach's shoulders relaxed at the confirmation. He flashed them all a smile that was far more real than his 'charming' one before disappearing down the little-used footpath he'd followed out.

Time to set things straight before they got any strange ideas.

"He's a blood relation we call uncle to minimize confusion due to a curse that unfortunately displaced him from his immediate family," Percy explained rapid fire. If he could get the words out before they could ask any uncomfortable questions, he might be able to frame the narrative how he liked. "I'm helping him get used to… Britain now that he's back and we're trying to keep him in the loop as much as possible so he doesn't feel adrift. Hence, meeting just to let him know how the match turned out."

He tried to keep a pitying expression on his face, letting his tone and gestures display the poor sod he wanted to convey without saying the words. In reality, Percy thought Berodach was adapting fantastically to being displaced by a century and he felt more sympathy than pity for his losses. Pity, however, was uncomfortable for everyone; hopefully it'd be enough to make Audrey and Truman drop the subject after a few final prods.

"You're taking on a lot of projects," Truman mused good-naturedly. "Given up on Head Boy, then?"

"You wish," Percy shot back instantly before clearing his throat and attempting a more neutral tone. "I mean, I'll figure something out."

"Gabe, seriously?" Audrey murmured, more to the sky than to the intended audience beside her. His shrug wasn't reassuring; she shook her head as if to clear it of his detour. "Alright, you technically didn't break the rules, Percy - though I wouldn't have expected you to bend them like this - so we don't have to report it or anything, but… You know you can talk to us, right?" She put a hand up when Truman opened his mouth and corrected wryly, "You can talk to Gabe about arithmantic problems, I suppose, and the rest of us if you're… in trouble or something."

And if it wasn't all winding up to something that, in a certain light, could be seen as illegal, he might have taken her up on it. As it was, he couldn't talk about his mundane problems without leading to… the Malfoys. Still, she was looking at him with a furrowed brow that demonstrated her concern. He drew up a smile from the thought that his fellow prefects did care, "I know; thank you, Audrey. You already know everything's not fine, but in this case, I'm okay."

"Okay, you can talk to me, too, you know," Truman put in abruptly, guilt in the downward turn of his lips and the shifting of his weight. "I know I'm not always, mmn, paying attention, but if you want to tell me… emotional things I can listen."

"Thank you, too," Percy added, his smile getting a little mischievous. "I can't wait to unload all my emotional baggage next time we patrol together."

Despite Truman's pained sigh, he didn't take it back and Audrey laughed, "C'mon, we can actually walk you up to the castle. It really will be curfew soon." Percy nodded and made to follow. As they traversed the grounds, he made his way to Truman's side and nudged him lightly with an elbow.

"I'm kidding, Truman."

The relief that flooded his eyes would have been insulting if it weren't so amusing, "Thank Merlin."

.

He'd managed to get away without explaining much more about Berodach. Of course, Audrey might just nurse the idea until she could corner him when they met up to knit together. Christmas was coming up quickly and he couldn't afford to miss a session when it helped to keep him on track.

He was ready to just head up to the common room and review his Gobbledygook for the session tomorrow morning. Professor Flitwick had hinted at a special guest lecturer and Percy wanted, at least, to be able to greet the likely delegate from the Goblin Nation correctly.

Audrey and Truman had left him at the door and returned to their patrol. Or, more likely, their pre-patrol walk. It was nippy, but the best it would get, weather-wise, for the next few months as Scotland descended into darkness. Or winter, he supposed.

"What are you?"

Percy stopped at the intersection that would lead him to the stairs and sighed.

That had been Harry's voice, hadn't it?

He looked around the corner only to see Harry disappear around the next, shoes slapping against the stone as he ran after whatever-it-was. Which was not the safest course of action in a magic-soaked castle like Hogwarts. Despite the fact that he had just thought it, Percy put aside his own advice and darted down the hall, rounding the corner in time to catch Harry's next turn.

Soon enough, his longer legs proved their worth as he caught up to the frantic Gryffindor and grabbed for his shoulders, arresting his flight, "Harry! What is it?"

"No, come on," Harry protested, the same confidence that had filled his voice while tricking the Dursleys ringing clear in his tone as he ducked out of Percy's grip and kept running. "They're getting away!"

"Who?" Percy demanded, but ran after his charge, anyway. He couldn't let him go off alone when he seemed so intent. Who the hell was he chasing?

"Can't you hear it?" Harry complained, skidding around a bust of Shikoba Wolfe. "They're lost! The same person who hurt Chen!"

"I don't hear anything-"

"Stop running and I'll find you, you-" Harry's speech devolved into hisses. They turned a final corner and came up short on a dead end. "No!" Harry hit the wall. "They have to be going through the walls somehow!"

"There are lots of secret passages," Percy panted absently, mind on the sudden spat of parseltongue in the middle of Harry's speech. "Were you just swearing in parseltongue?"

If so, he'd have to watch out for that. Coarse language was coarse language.

"What- no! I just said 'jerk,'" Harry's head shot up, eyes searching out Percy's as his hands fisted defensively. "In English!"

"It was definitely not English," Percy corrected, straightening and coughing a little. He may have put on a little muscle this summer but his lungs clearly hadn't benefited. "However, it is a magical language so it would make sense if it came to you without needing to think about it."

"But why would I…? Unless I was in front of a snake, I haven't done it since duelling club. Unless I was in front of a snake," Harry repeated with a dawning air of realization. "Maybe I'm hearing a snake." His brow creased, "A really, really big snake. That would explain why you couldn't hear them!"

Well, there was a tiny hole in that argument. Percy couldn't help but point out, "Wouldn't I have heard hissing?" After all, he'd heard Harry's hiss. It wasn't as if parseltongue was telepathic or something.

"The pipes are always hissing," Harry retorted. As he said it, the same thought appeared to occur to them as they turned to the dead end as one.

Well, that was inconveniently logical. Percy didn't enjoy admitting it, but he still said aloud, "A snake would find it easy to traverse the pipes, wouldn't it?" Before Harry's triumphant expression could get too set in the lines of his face, Percy hastened to cut off any plan of action other than the proper one. "Of course, there aren't any snakes that cause petrification - unless it's being used as a medium for a curse…"

Damn, that hadn't helped any.

Harry still looked disturbingly determined to do something.

"We should bring this to a professor right away," Percy said abruptly. It was something to do that wouldn't send Harry, and likely Ron and Hermione, after the person or snake responsible for Derek Chen's condition that was evidently still in the castle. "Professor McGonagall should be in her office-"

"She didn't listen to me last year about the Stone," Harry interrupted, face set in thought and arms crossed over his chest. "Professor Dumbledore might be here, but I don't know the password to his office."

Percy did. It was part and parcel of being a prefect. He… didn't really want to go put himself under the scrutiny of the headmaster again, though. Not that he was doing anything wrong! Not right now, anyway. But it was… unnerving. "Professor Snape-"

"No," Harry said firmly, eyes a little wide with incredulity. Alright, he could see where Harry was coming from. The professor wasn't exactly pleasant and he couldn't expect a twelve year old to see past that to the duties that bound him, disposition aside. Reluctantly, words drawn from him as if he were pulling them out of his side in the form of rusty nails, Harry offered defeatedly, "I guess Lockhart? He is the defense professor."

"That's acceptable," Percy put a hand on Harry's shoulder and turned him the right direction. "And if he's out of his office, Professor Flitwick is a duelling champion, after all."

It was with total disbelief that Harry asked, "He is?"

"He does work at Hogwarts; of course his past is impressive." It wasn't that he expected Harry to know each teacher's past, but they had been chosen to teach at Hogwarts - the best school in Wizarding Britain. All of them were bound to be impressive in their fields. Percy elaborated without further prompting, "He knows as many languages as Headmaster Dumbledore and he runs the choir and language club in his spare time. Plus, he keeps a full shelf of trophies from his time on the duelling circuits in his office."

"Maybe we should go to Professor Flitwick, then," Harry concluded once the new information had sunken in.

"I'm not sure where he'd be at this time of day," Percy had to admit. "Professor Lockhart, on the other hand, is sure to be answering fan mail in his office. He tells me it takes at least two hours daily, and I know he is quite devoted to his fans - I'm certain he won't have called it quits today."

They were already approaching Professor Lockhart's office, anyway. It wasn't too far from where Harry's wild chase had led them. This must have occurred to Harry as well, since he deflated, lips curving down and shoulders in, gracelessly conceding, "I guess Lockhart can tell everybody else or something."

He glanced up at Percy, opened his mouth and shut it again, and curled his hands into fists. Keeping his eyes averted, Harry blurted, "And I'd like to talk with you about something later if you have time this weekend but it's not important and you don't have to; it's just that I have some questions but they aren't about classwork or anything, so don't feel like you should just because you're a prefect, and I'm sorry this is a really terrible time to bring it up but you've been really busy lately and I didn't want to bother you-"

"Harry, breathe," Percy had refrained from knocking on Lockhart's door solely to hear out Harry's request, but the sentence hadn't ended. It was impressive and worrying at once. "Of course you can talk to me whenever you'd like. We can talk after this, if you want."

"Ah- um, okay." Eyes a little wide and cheeks flushed from either embarrassment or the fact that he hadn't taken a breath during that run-on sentence, Harry's hands relaxed and his eyes darted to Percy's face and away. "Thanks, Percy."

With a nod, Percy tried to put his new worries from his mind and knocked. Hopefully, Harry just wanted to talk about a crush or something similar. Not, say, You Know Who sending him threatening letters.

Actually, so long as it wasn't life-threatening, Percy would be content with whatever new problem had come up.

"Come in, come in," came Professor Lockhart's immediate reply. He was, in fact, answering letters at his desk, a delicate pair of cheaters perched on his nose that he hastily removed as they entered. A broad grin was directed their way, "My two favorite young lions! What can I do for you?" He touched his nose, pointing at Harry with the other hand, and affected a shocked expression, "You're not finally taking me up on my offer, are you, Harry? I've been hoping to give you whatever wisdom I can about dealing with fame, but you seemed to think it well in hand!"

"Sir," Percy tried to redirect the focus - surely Professor Lockhart wasn't this distractible in class with Harry, right? He had been right and then some in his diagnosis of the man as starstruck the first time the two had interacted and it seemed to be as strong as ever. "We're here because we learned something new about what may have attacked Derek Chen." Efficiently, he laid out the new information they'd discovered and how it might relate to Chen's petrification.

"Yes, yes, that does sound familiar," Professor Lockhart murmured when he'd finished. A drawer was dragged open and he was digging through a large set of files before he made a triumphant noise, pulling out a garishly turquoise folder. He flipped through it, holding it at an angle so as to keep its contents unseen by his captive audience. There were a great many thoughtful hums and pensive grunts before Harry broke.

He slapped a hand on Professor Lockhart's desk somewhat loudly, garnering the attention of the professor's portraits and the professor himself. It was somewhat surreal to have so many Professor Lockharts blinking bemusedly at them, but Harry charged on bullishly, "What is it? Sir?"

"Yes, I have come across a species of snake called the anathemus - I haven't written about this yet, so keep it to yourselves," he reminded them with a wink, pushing back golden curls roguishly as he did. That rather implied Professor Lockhart was planning to take care of this himself. Percy wasn't entirely on board with the idea, but he supposed he wasn't the professional here. "The anathemus is a perfect medium for a dark wizard's curses, seeing as it can transfer a weak curse of its own devising with a small bite. Yes, we may easily have overlooked a bite that small on young Chan."

"Chen," corrected Harry with a troubled look. Somewhat warily, he shifted closer to Percy as he spoke, "And I'm pretty sure it's a big snake, sir."

"Nonsense." The ruffles on Professor Lockhart's sleeves lent a somewhat preposterous air to his dismissive gesture. He didn't seem fazed as he continued, "An anathemus makes the most sense. Likely the dark wizard who cursed it is long gone - a shame since I could have made quick work of such a cowardly opponent - but the snake can be easily disposed of. I shall take up the task myself, of course. Though my fellow staff members may easily accomplish the same task, I doubt there is any need to wake them this late at night."

"It's hardly seven," Harry protested, this time entirely ignored by the professor. Even Percy was starting to grow a bit wary of the professor's behavior. He seemed quite excited - perhaps it was just the chance to see some action again. Something in the jerky, overly exaggerated motions of the usually grandiose man seemed off, however.

"I do believe the two of you can return to your dorm in peace; I won't tell anyone you've broken curfew, of course!" He tapped the side of his nose again, looking at Percy this time, "Wouldn't want to ruin your chances as Head Boy next year, would we?"

"I'm sorry, sir?" That was… Well, it was wrong, for one. Prefects had permission to be out after curfew for patrols and for the sake of the safety of the school. This fell under the second category. Harry, meanwhile, had stopped glaring at Lockhart to peer over the folder the professor had left on his desk.

It also sounded vaguely like a threat.

"Well, I only mean to say, it's a tad strange for a young man - nearly to your majority, right Percy? - to be running about with a second year after curfew, isn't it? Prefect or not?" His smile was too wide and the friendly tone nearly made the words pass by without comment before the meaning sank in. As Lockhart stood, casually rounding the desk, Percy's stomach flipped unpleasantly. "Of course, I know better. You wouldn't bully young Harry here for the use of his connections or- for less savory purposes. I'm afraid not everyone would see it that way, but as I've already promised!" He clapped his hands together, "This can stay between us! I'll take care of the snake and let everyone know I've solved the problem tomorrow - no mention of how I found out! You'd be free and clear!"

"Who's Tati Gutierrez?" Harry's voice was clear and pointed, the forgotten folder lying open in his hands. His eyes burned with suspicion as they lifted to Lockhart's, waving the paper higher, "Why is her name at the top of your file about a snake?"

He must have been too absorbed in reading the papers to listen. Percy was sort of glad he seemed to have missed the professor's little threat completely.

Said professor turned his smile on Harry, the expression tight. "She's the woman who asked me for help when the anathemus was terrorizing her small town in Costa Rica. I have a better memory for people than for my adventures and I keep notes for my books, since I would never take the time to sit down and write when people are in danger. That being said, that is my personal property, and I'd like it back. Harry." He held out a hand, fingers spread expectantly. It was strangely stifling, in that small room, and Percy suddenly didn't want to let Harry get that close to the professor.

He moved between them, taking the folder from Harry himself with, surprisingly, no protest from the boy. Now that he was holding the folder, Lockhart's gaze sharpened, and Percy paused.

What was going on? It seemed Lockhart wanted to edit them out of the story he'd be telling, but why? Lockhart would still be taking care of the snake himself; it wasn't like Harry and he were better suited to the task. A slimy chill crawled up Percy's spine and slid into his veins.

This was a dangerous situation, somehow. Instead of standing around thinking about it, it'd be better to get out, wouldn't it?

Reaching back, he took hold of Harry's hand.

"I am sorry to have disturbed you, sir." Percy took a step towards the door, keeping Harry behind him. "And Harry should never have looked at your personal files." Another step. "We'd be very grateful if you never mentioned we were here, of course. People could misinterpret." On his next step, he extended the folder slightly. They would reach the door in one more move.

"Oh, honestly," Professor Lockhart shook his head in exasperation, curls bouncing boyishly. "You're far too tense, Percy. We're just having a friendly chat." Despite his casual tone, he snatched the file as Percy took his last step, once Percy finally held out the folder within the professor's reach. Harry opened the door with his free hand and they both backed out, Percy shutting the door quietly behind them and staring at it for a moment as if it could explain what the hell had happened to Professor Lockhart.

But that wasn't what he should be doing, right now. It felt almost like something foreign nudged him, reminding him there was still danger and pushing his own thoughts to the side.

"We should go," he heard himself say. It was right. The correct course of action. Exactly what he would have thought of himself. Because he had thought of it himself, of course. Percy shook his head. They had to go. He gripped Harry's hand a little tighter and pulled him along. He didn't encounter much resistance.

"What deal was Lockhart talking about?" Harry's pitch was rising, but his volume stayed low. "Percy? What deal?"

"It was- it-" Percy stalled to a stop, hand still tight around Harry's. The corridor felt too small, even though he knew logically the arched ceilings were as high as ever. He'd never- he'd never had a professor act that way. Toward him. Even Professor Snape had never- threatened him with something so… He felt sick. His skin was too tight and too hot and it… hurt, a little. He had liked Professor Lockhart.

"...Percy?" Harry prompted again, coming around to face him, but not letting go of his hand. His lips were pressed into a tight line as he searched Percy's expression, "What did I miss?"

"It wasn't… even that bad." He really didn't know why he was making a big deal about it. He'd heard worse. He'd planned worse. It was just… Different. No, it was fine. It was fine. He was fine. "It was nothing, really. He wants us to keep quiet about coming to see him."

"That's strange," Harry pointed out, still peering up at Percy. "In exchange for what?"

Percy let out a strange sort of laugh he'd never heard from himself before, "My reputation, I suppose." He pressed the heel of his palm into his eye, head tipped down, thinking. Something was wrong. "I think I would've kept quiet if he'd just asked, before. Now? Something is wrong. Lockhart is clearly planning something he doesn't want exposed."

And he still felt cold. Beyond the heat in his skin, something was cold.

"Hold on," Percy leaned against the wall, preparing himself for the pain that increasing his awareness of bonds in Hogwarts always brought. The world spun into technicolor, as expected, and he breathed through the feeling, searching himself until he found the ice cold bond stretching out towards Lockhart's office.

This was something he remembered. People who didn't care about you simply didn't have bonds with you, and positive connections were warm. A cold bond- well. Lockhart wanted to hurt him.

Actively.

The question was: how far did Lockhart's change in attitude extend? Was it just Percy? He had to make sure.

Percy knelt down to Harry's level, "Can I just check something, Harry? Will you trust me a minute?"

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked, not unreasonably, given the suddenness of the question.

"Fair enough." Arguing wouldn't get him anywhere, and he'd already asked. If he'd been less shaken, he might have just checked from afar, maintaining conversation as he did. He'd done it with Ginny before, after all. Unfortunately, Percy's focus was shot and he was going to need a strong point of contact to examine Harry's bonds. "I've been practicing hedge magic since the summer and I want to use what I've learned to check you over for something dangerous. I'd prefer you keep it to yourself, considering it's not exactly a normal practice, but I won't force you to it."

No, hopefully, Harry would just agree. From what he'd learned of the boy, he wasn't the type to go back on his word lightly.

His brow furrowed, as if he'd been expecting something else, "Okay. That doesn't seem like a real secret, but if it… embarrasses you, I won't say anything."

"Thank you. Can I use it on you, just to look at something?" Percy asked, holding out his other hand. "It will be faster if I can have both your hands." Harry looked at the one already in Percy's as if he'd forgotten it was there but slid the other into place anyway in silent permission. His hands were a little sweaty now, from the running before and the stress they'd just escaped. So were Percy's, though. It was only a minor distraction.

He followed the bond between them - warm and healthy, to his relief - and slipped past Harry's will until he found - ah. Three ice cold bonds. Two more than Percy had, but one led off to the defense office just the same.

Perhaps one of the freezing bonds was You Know Who. Crushing defeat at the hands of an eleven year old was hard to forget.

Either way, he wasn't planning to nudge anything around. His mother had told him that there were magical creatures and some grand adept humans who could feel motion of that sort like a spider sensing vibration in the strings of its web. No, Percy was taking a simple, superficial look.

Which is how he almost missed the way one of Harry's ice cold bonds split into parts, with one leading directly to his own head.