Disclaimer: Fair use.

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You have to understand, being at Hogwarts was like shining a hundred flashlights into your eyes every time you opened them. Percy had barely begun to master the idea of "squinting" when he looked at bonds and a professor had just threatened him. With these factors combined, It was no wonder he almost missed the deviant bond, even focusing directly on Harry.

Almost.

"What is this?" He murmured aloud in instinctive revulsion. It was ice cold, stronger than anything he'd seen before, but discordant. A quiet ringing of wrong set him on edge. Something was familiar, too. As if he'd felt like this before. But how could he?

No one could split a bond like that. It would mean… He felt queasiness rise in his throat just considering the implications. Who could survive their will - their heart as Muriel had said - being in two places at once? More, if Percy could bring himself to believe his senses.

And whatever it was, he'd need help. If it had been attached at the surface, Percy might have removed it himself, but he could feel the ingrown bond twanging unpleasantly deep into Harry's will.

"I think we need to talk to Professor Snape," Percy found himself saying bluntly before he could rephrase it to better explain himself. Harry wasn't the potionsmaster's greatest fan.

"Why?" Predictably, Harry pulled his hands from Percy's, taking a step back. Feet set shoulder width apart, he looked ready to physically fight Percy off. Not the greatest opening statement, then.

"I think someone has… done something to you," Percy started delicately, trying to keep the chilling horror of it locked down inside him. He didn't want to spook Harry, even if the kid was more likely to uppercut him than run. Considering that what he'd seen needed to be addressed right away, he had better explain this well. "Hedge magic uses what you might think of as the… emotional connections between people. I was checking if Lockhart was- was truly no longer trustworthy and, Harry… I found something else."

"Emotional connections," Harry echoed, still a knife's edge from taking action, but momentarily distracted. "Like a bond of feelings?"

Taken aback, Percy agreed with furrowed brow, "...yes? Where did you hear that?" It was as apt a description as any for the bonds that shone and jangled and knotted outside normal perception.

"Hermione's been doing some research on bonds for… fun," Harry didn't avert his eyes or otherwise physically broadcast his deceit but he may as well have, given his conspicuous pause and clear discomfort. The boy was not particularly skilled at lying, though it appeared he'd gotten practice somewhere. "That's hedge magic she's been studying, then? You got it to work somehow?"

At times it felt like Percy's true rival was Hermione - before he'd shake the uneasy thought and remind himself she was twelve. Honestly though, she was far too clever for her age and it was easy to forget. At least it'd smooth the rough edges of this explanation thus far.

"Yes," he admitted bluntly, still reeling from the series of shocks the day had provided as if determined to put him off his game. His chest ached and his stomach was still churning lightly with a sickening anxiety. Now this. He'd been treading water for too long. The body of his troubles was deep and dark; Percy didn't fancy drowning in it, but it was looking like diving into this one problem might be the only course of action. "What I saw with it- I don't think we can let it be."

"What are you trying to say?" Flickering torchlight cast Harry's face in wavering shadows that did nothing to hide the growing stubborn set of his jaw. Percy hoped he could hold onto that.

"Hedge magic works with bonds and something I call will. Others call it heart. It's… the essence of who you are. It can be manipulated, or freely given of, or even taken entirely, depending on your skill and the strength of the bond and working." He took a breath, "Someone has… split their heart and… left part of it with you."

That was pretty heavy on its own, but Harry seemed to take it worse than Percy had anticipated, a soft gasp leaving his lips and his hand going to his heart with white, clutching fingers. "My- Professor Dumbledore said… He said Voldemort couldn't kill me last year because of my mother's love- could it- I mean, is it…?"

A creeping unease filtered up Percy's throat until he finally figured out what was wrong with Harry's reaction - what exactly he meant. That had been hope , not horrified realization - the likes of which Percy was feeling instead.

"Oh- oh, no, Harry," Percy took his shoulders quickly, as if he could physically hold Harry together through this next blow. "I'm so sorry, no, this is- it wasn't your mother. It's- the bond is- whoever did this is- isn't friendly."

Harry stood rigid in his grip for a moment, hand still tight over his chest. He turned his head away, "Right. Of course." A deep breath later, Harry met Percy's eyes with a steely determination, "How do we get rid of it?"

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It has been a very long day, Percy told himself for the umpteenth time as he conjured a thick rope and wrapped it around his chest and shoulders securely, tying the other end to a sturdy tree. After he tested it, Harry covertly tugged at it as well, making doubly sure it wasn't going to come loose. He seemed to have forgotten to take into account that Percy could feel the rope move, given it was attached to him on the other end.

They'd had a bit of a tiff over Professor Snape and ultimately decided against it. Especially when Percy had described how, exactly, one removed something foreign from the heart with legilimency. Percy wouldn't have chosen to have Professor Snape wandering around in his deepest self either, had the decision been his. Hence, they were here.

The moonlight puddled coolly on the surface of the Great Lake ahead of them, large dark protrusions in the distance proving the giant squid was having a bit of an active dream, out towards the center of the lake.

"Now, usually, you wouldn't do this alone or after curfew," Percy lectured as he waded gingerly into the cold waters. "Since I'm a prefect and this is a bit of a family emergency, we're not… really breaking any rules."

"Just bending them?" Harry asked with a quirk to his lips that didn't completely disguise the worry in his eyes. "I get it, Percy. I'm not planning to go swimming in the middle of the night any time soon."

"Right, well. Good." His previous fears of drowning had started to come back a bit more literally the closer he got to actually submerging entirely into the waters of the lake, but he'd taken the precautions he could without being unbearably rude. And he needed help. He couldn't bring Berodach around again today and he had a funny feeling his uncle hadn't done much more than Percy had with hedge magic. Call it a hunch, but the martial feeling Berodach gave off kind of implied he spent more time actively fighting than taking the subtle approach.

The merfolk, on the other hand, clearly knew more about it than he did.

Taking a deep breath more to settle himself than for practical purposes, Percy ducked his head under the water. "A child is in danger," he called into the water. "Is anyone willing to help?"

He had no bonds to the merfolk of the lake, even if he'd met and briefly interacted with Doileag and Ealasaid during an ill-fated Care of Magical Creatures class. There was nothing he could do but this. His heart was pounding in his ears from nerves and lack of oxygen as he waited on tenterhooks. Hogwarts and the merfolk did have a sort of pact, but it was unwritten and mainly arbitrated by Headmaster Dumbledore. Not a random prefect. Was it possible to be embarrassed and terrified at the same time? This felt so ridiculous.

"Yes." The voice was melodic and clear, cutting through the water with a clarity he likely lacked. "I'm coming to you."

While Percy would have liked to shout back his thanks, he didn't have the air for it. He surfaced instead, gasping and wiping the water from his eyes before he sustained some kind of infection. So many beings and creatures lived in this lake - not to mention the students who swam in it when the weather was warmer. The last thing he needed was its waters in his eyes.

"Alright, someone's decided to help, but they need a little time to get here," he reported once he could breathe again, tilting his head back to flop his deflated, wet curls out of his face. The Sleekeazy for Redheads that usually kept it contained washed out in water for obvious reasons. Tugging his earlobe irritably, Percy bent another rule and used one of his known failures at the rope summoning conjuration to make a strand of twine the length of his hand, tying his hair out of his face in an undeniably ridiculous style. The point was that it worked. Even if his bangs were likely flopping about the top of his head like the misplaced tail of a wet pomeranian.

"Okay," Harry acknowledged, tapping his fingers on his leg in a constant fidget and staring out over the lake. His stance was painfully tense, otherwise, and his wand clutched comfortingly in his other hand.

Percy knew he hadn't given Harry a great deal of time to process. It wasn't something he thought could wait. Someone's shattered heart was embedded in Harry's. Someone who wanted Harry dead, given the Arctic cold of the bonds between them. This wasn't like willingly scraping a bit of oneself to give to another. That grew back and it didn't maintain its own bonds; it just became part of the recipient. This was a chunk of an independent person inside Harry. There was no time to cater to fear.

He told himself that one more time as the sick feeling he'd grown familiar with curled smugly back into his gut, kneading the bottom with sharp claws and settling in for a long stay. This was necessary. Harry's mental well-being would hold until they got rid of the glaring threat to his very existence.

He could make more of an effort, though, right? They were still waiting on the selkie, so they had a bit of time, right?

"Harry," he started, unsure exactly what he wanted to say.

"They're here," Harry cut in, fingers stilling before his hand crept up to his chest, curling over his heart defensively. Hair like dead seaweed spilled over the water as the selkie surfaced, wide yellow eyes blinking up at them as her will slipped over theirs. This time Percy returned the greeting appropriately - he hoped. Given her quiet glance, he assumed he didn't screw it up at least.

She swam around him and plucked the rope curiously, sending a chill up his spine as she sent him a smile that was full of sharp teeth. Nonchalantly she moved past it and stared up at Harry. She pointed at him and turned to Percy questioningly.

"An enemy has left part of their-" Thinking of it in more than the abstract had Percy swallowing against an instinctive retch and he had to just say it without imagining the words, "They've shattered their heart and left part of it in his."

Her thin hands went over her mouth and she turned a delicate shade of blue. When she'd pulled herself together, she gestured downward and ducked beneath the waves. Giving Harry a pleading look that he hopefully interpreted as watch the rope, Percy took a deep breath through his nose and followed.

Beneath the waves, the selkie reflected enough light that she was all he could see beyond his own hands. Her tail lashed where she had swum out further, seeking more room for her to pace without hitting the rocky bottom. She turned on him when she noticed he'd obeyed.

Rapid-fire, she asked in her bell-like voice, "These questions, in order: how long has he been left like that? Who is deepest bonded to him? Where is his carer? Why are two children bringing us this problem? Who is this enemy?"

Not expecting the inquisition, Percy took a moment to process before he nodded and echoed her own gesture, but upward. They surfaced together.

"I don't know. Ron and Hermione, from what I've seen - er, my little brother and their friend. His carers are muggles. It was an emergency. I don't know," Percy listed off in between gasps of air. "It has a possibility of being You Know Who, considering Harry and Ron ruined his plans last year. Or one of his followers."

Percy had thought earlier that one of the cold bonds latched onto Harry could be the dark lord, but saying it aloud cemented the idea. He'd been a stone's throw away from You Know Who - not physically, but in a much more intimate sense. And Harry might have part of his heart.

"Voldemort?" Harry finally looked appropriately sick, but unfortunately the selkie was gesturing down again and Percy had to duck below the waves.

"I will need my elders for this," she said hastily, looking troubled. "You are…" Her will slipped over his again with that not-quite-comfortable brush of a stranger. "You will be needed. You are better than the old man and your bond is good. Can you get his others? Ron and Hermione?" Clearly the names were strange on her tongue, as they came out with a rolling trill beneath the syllables.

Percy nodded mutely; thankfully they were both Gryffindors.

She mimicked the nod, adding in an echoing note that ended abruptly like a burst of light in the darkness. "I will return within the hour. They will want to fix this." Her gills were working double time, actually visible as they moved with the flow of water through them. Starting to turn away, she paused and reached back, lightly touching his face and his will, "May your voice reach ahead and your tail er-" She stumbled over the word, correcting herself, "Your legs not fail you."

All he could do was nod again as she withdrew, presumably to fetch the help she needed. Possibly from slumber, but given the severity of the situation, Percy hoped they'd understand. He surfaced and immediately trudged to the shore, coughing and wiping the water from his face. His makeshift hair band had done its job, at least, and he didn't have to spit out any wet hair before he could breathe. He struggled out of the wet rope, coiling it up in his arms as he went.

"We need to get Ron and Hermione for this," he said, walking past Harry toward the castle. Harry was quick to fall in step. "She thinks we'll need them, and the selkie elders. So we're to meet back here as soon as we get them. Do you still have my glasses?"

Taken slightly aback at the non-sequitur, Harry searched his pockets and produced the familiar horn-rimmed glasses. "It's… that bad, then?"

"Well, it's not good," Percy retorted before remembering he was supposed to be efficient, not a jerk. The haste of the situation was catching up with him - as well as the stress of the day. Sliding his glasses onto his face and bringing the world back into focus, he cleared his throat, "Right, er, in any case, this is one thing it seems we can fix, and you'll be alright."

If only every problem Percy had could be fixed in a night. Though, he never wanted to see something like the atrocity in Harry's will again if he had the choice. It still made him feel ill just thinking of it.

Regardless of his distraction, he slowed enough to cast accurately, drying his clothes before they entered the castle. No need to track in lakewater while the house elves were most active.

The two of them rushed up to Gryffindor tower, where the portrait had to be woken. She didn't appear to hear them when they spoke to her, so Harry had resorted to knocking on the frame while Percy went a bit further up the hall. He was sure there was… Ah.

Percy tapped the frame of the painting containing a swamp and a small hut and was vindicated when a hag poked her head out of the door. Many hags preferred to keep nocturnal hours and it appeared painted ones were no different.

"Would you mind terribly helping us wake up the Gryffindor portrait?" he asked, pointing down the hall if it wasn't clear who he meant. Most people didn't refer to her by name and Percy wasn't a fan of her nickname, no matter how little it seemed to bother her.

The hag spat neutrally into the reeds about her home and nodded, shuffling to the edge of her frame and vanishing. She walked down the hall from frame to frame, stalking around or through the sleeping inhabitants of the other canvases and occasionally spitting on one if they appeared particularly deep in sleep. Finally she made it to the Gryffindor portrait and kicked her deftly in the shin.

"Oh! My word!"

At least it worked. Percy didn't have time to soothe any ruffled feathers, so he settled for a vague apology and mentioning a small emergency that, he emphasized, didn't need a professor woken, as he was a prefect and taking care of it. He'd, of course, report it in the morning.

Percy wasn't sure if he was lying or not; he hadn't yet decided if this fell solely under family emergency when he was involving quite a few denizens of the Great Lake. Granted, only Professors Kettleburn and Dumbledore could speak with the selkies above water, but it only took ducking one's head under to be able to understand. This was especially a risk if the merfolk decided a human adult should know and made a fuss of it.

In fact, Percy was probably taking a massive diplomatic risk on behalf of all British wizards, should anything go wrong. While all merfolk, selkies included, had declined the legal status of 'being' due to vampires being offered the same, they were still recognized as a pseudo-nation in a strange grey area of diplomacy. After all, declining the legal status didn't make them any less sapient or deserving of self-sovereignty.

He didn't have a great deal of choice in the matter, though. From the way Doileag had scolded him before, he knew they were better informed about hedge magic than he was, and it was clear the selkie he'd spoken with now had some idea of the complexity of what they needed to do. Percy had been at a complete loss, so it was reassuring that she'd had some sense of a direction to move in.

Ron had been roused while Percy was thinking and now the three of them were standing about the bottom of the girls' stairs, at a slight impasse.

"You… have a soul mate?" Ron tried again drowsily as Harry continued his attempt to explain.

"Scabbers," Percy said abruptly, turning on a groggy Ron and searching his pajama pockets.

"Scabbers is his soul mate?" Ron mumbled, producing the rat from somewhere and dropping his little furry body into Percy's hands.

"No, I trained him to do a few tricks when I was younger," Percy corrected him. He ignored Ron's confused murmuring about training Harry while he held his childhood pet before him. The lump had fallen asleep in his hands again and he prodded him awake. "Scabbers, fetch Hermione." He put the rat on the stairs, receiving a bleary look that he returned with a hand pointed up the stairs and a repetition of the command with a promise of bacon next breakfast. Scabbers had been hanging about Hermione for a year and a half now, via Ron. If he knew all the Weasley names, he should know Hermione's by now.

"Can a rat really…?" Harry trailed off as Scabbers hopped up the stairs and scurried into one of the dorms. A few moments later he scurried into the next and there was a longer wait before Hermione emerged, holding Scabbers in her hands, hair sticking up every which way.

"Guess he's not useless," Ron mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Percy sighed. He should have known Ron wouldn't have kept the same strict training schedule Percy had with Scabbers. He'd maintained a routine for the rat religiously as a child. Sure, for the first few months, it hadn't seemed to do anything, but just when he'd been about to give up and feed Scabbers to the ghoul so it wouldn't be a total waste, Scabbers had overcome some kind of mental block and responded beautifully. Having lived in a magical household and occasionally Hogwarts for years, it was no surprise the rat could still remember the commands even after Ron had let it all go to seed. Still, it wasn't the time to fully address it so he settled for a sniffed, "I told you he was food motivated when I gave him to you, Ronald."

"Didn't know he could be bribed," Ron muttered back. He received Scabbers from Hermione and Harry tried to quietly explain again from the top as they headed for the door. It only took once for Hermione to catch on so they pooled their resources to translate for Ron as he approached wakeful lucidity due to the cold air outside the castle.

"That's messed up," he summarized bluntly. "We gotta get it out of you."

"That's the idea," Percy agreed, only a little exasperated. It wasn't Ron's fault he was useless before he'd eaten. He just didn't wake up well without a meal. Besides, he had followed them out here in the middle of the night with very little understanding of what was going on beyond someone needing help. For that, Percy made a note to take them to the kitchens for warm milk or tea and biscuits afterwards.

Plus, it might help with the trauma of knowing there may have been a bit of You Know Who or one of his followers in him for Harry. Merlin, Percy didn't even know where to begin addressing that and they still had to get it out.

The journey down to the lake wasn't difficult, though Percy hadn't lit his wand either direction. Daylight had come early, it appeared. A yellow-green glow suffused the grounds, emanating from the lake. Water churned as selkies broke the surface and retreated, appearing to linger by the surface in a mass gathering as the light hit a peak and vanished.

Blinking away the flash, Percy could make out an inhumanly yellow eye nearly his height before Ron swore loudly and the unmistakable selkie elder breached the water with the top of their massive head. Normally, they stayed in the deeps, far north of Scotland, but it appeared the Great Lake's mystic connections to the waters of the world was not so much unsubstantiated rumor as Hogwarts: A History had made it seem.

"Ronald, keep it clean," he snapped. The last thing they needed was to insult a being the size of a small tower. Especially considering they needed the selkies' help if they wanted to get Harry's problem sorted.

In this spirit, Percy only momentarily hesitated when the elder extended their tremendous hand to the shore. He put a hand on their cool, scaled finger in a strange sort of handshake and felt a rumbling amusement that shook through his bones almost painfully. They gently tugged against Percy's will with a pull that resembled the world's politest riptide.

Oh Merlin, they wanted him to climb on. And given where the massive, luminous eyes of the elder landed next, they wanted Harry and friends to join him. Percy turned back to the three children reluctantly.

"They want us to, er…" he gestured at the hand. Hermione's eyes widened, sparkling with glee he hadn't expected before she glanced at Harry and sobered, nodding. She was already climbing on before the other two caught on and followed suit. The elder had curled their fingers slightly to provide them something to which to cling. Percy kind of wanted to grab the three expectantly waiting children out of the giant hand that could at any moment close tight or crush them down under the waves, but he needed the selkies' help and they'd agreed to give it. He couldn't turn back now without offense being taken - which might be even more dangerous now that the elder was here.

"Percy," Ron said simply, proddingly. He held out a hand to his older brother in a rare show of his not-non-existent emotional intelligence. Percy sighed and accepted it along with his lot in life which was evidently to do a lot of terrifying things to combat the other terrifying things that kept popping up. He didn't exactly lean on that hand, though. Ron was half his size. The grip was more symbolic as he clambered up onto the elder's palm and it actually would have been easier if he'd had that hand free.

The elder lifted their hand, bringing them out over the water and to their face. Percy clung to one finger with each hand, arms outstretched over Ron, Hermione and Harry as extra insurance between them and toppling to a watery grave. Said waters were still glowing a yellow green that reflected eerily off the scales around them. Probably that was how the elder seemed waist deep in the lake - their tail was actually still somewhere else. In the ocean, he supposed.

"It's real," Hermione breathed, clearly on the same line of thought. Vaguely, Percy could remember Hogwarts: A History being her second favorite book.

More to the point, he was incredibly surprised a patrolling prefect or professor hadn't come out to investigate the glow of the lake. It was kind of downhill and a ways away, but it was still fairly bright.

The elder smiled with horrifyingly large, serrated teeth and threw Percy harshly from his thoughts back to the real world. They were trying to be comforting, he assumed. One large finger from their free hand very gently approached and poked Harry on the top of the head, water pouring off their arm in sheets. Their hand dipped down towards the water, easing the group into reach of the dozen or so merfolk just under the elder. The lake was practically roiling with flicked tails and bobbing heads as the selkies and a scattering of colorful, foreign merfolk restlessly swarmed below. The girl Percy had spoken to earlier surfaced and reached up towards him, something in her hand.

He reached down and got four cold, slimy balls deposited into his hand for his trouble.

"Thank you," he grimaced reflexively. She shot him a strained half smile, flipping back down into the water and vanishing among the other merfolk. A melodic rumble shook through the air and water, sending ripples across the surface as the elder finished their hummed note. With a languid blink, they took in the humans on their palm and the fact that they once again had their attention. The elder used their free hand to put their fingers together and point it sharply at their mouth.

"Eat…?" Percy guessed, glancing down at the slick seaweed balls and back up at the elder incredulously. They couldn't possibly- well, alright they could mean it.

"Oh, isn't there some seaweed that makes you grow gills?" Hermione piped up, plucking one of the balls from Percy's hand and examining it. "I've been looking at legislation regarding non-human rights lately and I do remember they used a plant for the original being status negotiations with merfolk in their own cities."

Percy looked at her for a long moment and fought aside the irrational competitive jealousy. For the nth time he reminded himself that Hermione was twelve years old. Why the hell didn't he remember that, though? Gillyweed was a very intuitive name. Of course, he remembered it now, but that didn't count. And didn't matter , damn it.

"You're right. Good job," he told her, instead of lingering on the situation. Despite the dire nature of their circumstances, she still briefly lit up at the praise. Reluctantly, Percy held up one of the seaweed balls and glanced up at the elder again uncertainly.

They made the same gesture, this time smiling encouragingly.

Harry and Ron took their own seaweed and Percy nearly stopped them. Why did it feel like Percy was putting them in more danger than less? It was… probably gillyweed, from what Percy remembered of the description.

"It might be prudent for me to try it first," Percy started slowly, just in time to see Ron's throat work as he swallowed and turned a delicate green.

"It's horrible," he croaked, before abruptly grabbing at the sides of his throat. His eyes grew wide and his mouth gaped open as if he couldn't breathe, Percy's heart jumping into his throat as his worst fears came to life.

"Oh, honestly," came Hermione's cross response. Perfunctorily, she shoved Ron off the elder's palm and popped her own gillyweed in her mouth, ignoring the spluttering and splash as Ron hit the water. With a bit more grace, she levered herself off the edge with a second accompanying splash.

Percy couldn't help but lean over the side of the elder's palm after them, unable to breathe even without the effects of gillyweed. Finally, Ron surfaced first, then bobbed back down with a panicked expression and shoved a thumbs up through the surface into the air instead.

Clutching his chest, Percy felt his shoulders drop slightly further away from his ears, "Oh, thank Merlin."

If that had killed them he'd never have forgiven himself. And he'd have to find a way to drag their souls back from the afterlife to ground Ron for eternity and give Hermione the lecture of her life. At least, Harry hadn't-

Percy got a face full of lake water as Harry hopped in after his friends.

Alright, then.

He steeled himself and pushed the slimy seaweed into his mouth. It was not made better for having been through probably two or three different marine environments. Despite the urge to retch, he swallowed it down and made to gingerly edge off the elder's hand. Seeing the last human had taken their gillyweed, they helpfully submerged him before he could actually attempt it.

"...and the costs will be high," lectured the girl Percy still hadn't gotten a name for as water filled his ears and the wordless singing of the surrounding merfolk jangled through his senses.

"Hang on," Percy said unthinkingly, surprised when he could just barely understand himself. It was difficult to take in a breath at first, but soon the sensation of liquid in his lungs could be ignored. With a bit of effort. "Any cost paid should be mine; these are children."

Her retort was swift and unyielding, "You are a child, as well. I know the uniform of Hogwarts." She waved him off with a taloned hand, "But that is possible. Removing this-"

The trill that accompanied her words shot up a few octaves and twisted, distorting itself in the water into a sound that hurt.

"- will take all of us. It will be a high price. Can you pay it?" She turned in the water, her tail whipping out at a sharp angle. "As an effect, you cannot harm them with magic downstream."

In this context, Percy was just going to assume the word downstream had something to do with time and the future. He also wasn't exactly planning to harm any of them with magic in the future, so he didn't see that as much of a cost. He said so, Ron bluntly agreeing with him, and she gave a mirthless laugh.

"This is not the cost, it is just the effect of a grand ritual. You seek to do great harm - to the fragment. It is not an easy swim. Your heart will fight it," she placed a hand on his chest, the thick muscles in her wrist standing out starkly as she flexed her fingers and pricked him with her talons. "And it will be… wounded. You will not be able to use…" She cocked her head and chattered at a passing merfolk from warmer waters - judging on the brilliant golden-red coloration of their scales. They clicked back and she nodded. "You will not be able to use the branch of magic you are used to using to harm. Syala says you call them hexes and curses."

"And jinxes," added Syala.

"And jinxes," she conceded. "You will be vulnerable in this way for daring to take on such a great harm as removing a heart - even if it is not where it should be."

"Percy, you can't do that," Harry interrupted before Percy could agree to or reject anything.

Hermione jumped in, "You'll never pass your NEWTs!"

That was true, for Defense, anyway. And Percy may or may not have been having some strong feelings about that but he wasn't going to let a group of kids know that. Not when he didn't see any other way to fix this.

He really wanted to fix something.

Merlin, did he need to fix something.

Plus, he needed to keep his charges safe. What was more dangerous than having a piece of someone inside you who wanted you dead? He couldn't trust anyone else to take care of it. The impulse felt stranger than it usually did, as if the thought were forced. Probably because he was terrified.

His heart couldn't beat much faster and his stomach had dropped quite a while ago.

"It's alright," he heard himself say from far away. "This is necessary. We don't have another choice."

"We don't even know how long it's been there," Harry protested, the typical meekness in his voice falling away to reveal a firm sense of command beneath. He sounded like he did in a crisis, now. Or when Percy heard him from a room away. It aged him. "Maybe it's fine. Maybe it's been there for years and hasn't done anything. I didn't even know it was there!"

"Or it's possible that it's brand new- or it was lying in wait," Percy shot back, fear and his own reluctance giving his tone claws. "There's only uncertainty in a guessing game, Harry. What we know is that that aberration has to be destroyed, and this is the only way. I'm the only wizard you know that can do this. Right?" This last part was directed sharply at his erstwhile ally, the thus-far unnamed selkie. He hoped his expression conveyed how very important it was that she agree with him.

Regardless of whether it was true.

After a pregnant pause, she pulled her assessing stare from Percy and confirmed to Harry matter-of-factly, "Yes. This is the only way, child. Your adept is the channel between our pod and yours and will bear the pressure of the depths. If you try to leave with the-" She repeated the horrible noise that likely meant the heart piece. "-intact, we will have no recourse but to destroy you along with it."

Well.

Percy hadn't quite meant for that to happen.

He had been glad she was taking his side until she threatened them with murder in cold blood. Of course, he knew merfolk had had a tradition of drowning young wizards for sport for centuries, but he'd hoped the peace that had been painstakingly brokered between them would temper the violence of their past. At least now he knew where they stood.

"I won't let you-" Harry shouted, whipping out his wand. A speartip jutted into his space, stopping just before his throat and halting the motion. Strong fingers wrapped around Percy's ankles even as other merfolk restrained the kids. They were, after all, surrounded. Additionally, they were painfully disadvantaged in the water with mobility and spellcasting being drastically altered, gillyweed or no.

"You will," said Percy's ex-ally. He rather wanted to grab and shake her. It was a fun side effect of being held in place by multiple merfolk that that wasn't an option. She waved aside the selkie holding the spear and moved forward, easily relieving Harry of his wand and tapping his chest with it awkwardly. Clearly, she wasn't used to wielding a conductor of magic quite like a wand. Her fingers touched it only by the tips and held it away from her palm. "There is a chance of the ritual killing your adept if you don't cooperate. A willing patient is easier to survive than a fighting victim."

Harry's eyes darted wildly between them, slumping only when he could see that Hermione and Ron were also subdued and that there was no way to physically leave.

Eyes softening, she reminded him, "This is to help you, little one." She tucked his wand back into his pocket. With one stroke of her tail, she turned and crossed the space back to Percy. "You are still willing to pay the price and be the channel?"

He nodded, not trusting himself to vocalize around the lump in his throat.

Her hands reached out for his and the fingers around his arms slipped away, leaving him free to move again. He took her hands.

What happened next was… hard to describe.

He was vaguely aware of the merfolk ushering the kids over to him and Harry laying one hand on their joined ones, the other reaching back for Ron or Hermione. It was distant and unimportant. The selkie had ripped his awareness of bonds out of hiding and he was being subsumed. Their bonds were amazing. Unlike the often artificial bonds within Hogwarts, formed by close quarters and the meddling magic of a thousand friendships formed in its walls, this was like greeting the ocean by name. They were all aware of their connections, pushing and pulling through each other like a constant current of acknowledgement and kinship. It was being lost in a roiling ocean. It was never being alone.

It was not what he should be focusing on right now.

In the real world, the merfolk were weaving through and around one another in a coordinated chaos of a dance that formed a ring around the humans and Percy's still anonymous selkie acquaintance. They twirled and spun past one another as if they had silk attached to their tails and a great ambition to weave the world's largest tapestry together. Behind them, the elder had submerged and was providing a gently hummed backdrop of music that could probably burst their eardrums were it a single decibel louder.

As they danced, a rushing pressure built on the selkie's side of the connection. It gathered in her, but had no where to go. There was no bond between Percy and her.

"This is the part that hurts," she told him through gritted teeth. "Grab back."

Since they were holding hands, she could find him easily, even without a bond. That didn't mean he expected it when her will pushed into his like harpoon, tethering them with searing ice. The pain exploded through his body like shrapnel, but he couldn't go to his knees. Aside from the fact that he was underwater, the selkie's grip on his arms was like iron.

She dug her talons deep into his arms and hissed again with a series of furious clicks, "Grab back."

Abruptly, he understood. Bonds could be made over time, slowly, by care and affection. By friendship, or simply by helping each other out. It appeared a bond made by harm could be the work of a second.

He sliced back, ripping deep and settling his claws in with a viciousness he hadn't meant to unleash, fueled by the pain he couldn't quite push aside. They stood connected by cold and mutual pain for only a moment before the ice of a new bond snapped into place.

"Good," she snarled, teeth bared sharp and white, the angles of her face more strange and predatory when twisted in pain. He didn't have time to take it in as she pushed through him with the full weight of the merfolks' dance behind her, rushing down his bond to Harry and flooding into the icy abnormality with excessive force. He could hear the kids cry out, but more immediately, he could feel the fragment of heart start to pull loose.

The dancing picked up around them, the glow of the water reflecting wildly off the many darting scales. Even as the pain intensified and the kids gave startled yelps once again, the push of the combined merfolk proved too much for the fragment. Finally it gave.

"Crush it!" the selkie shrieked. Every ounce of pressure turned to the task, Percy included in the sudden rush. The fragment struggled to survive the same way that doomed gnome had back when Molly had taught him the wasting curse. It tore blindly out at its surroundings, attempting to rip life from anyone it could reach. The wave of the merfolk crested between it and Harry, however, cutting it off from the children entirely. And it crashed down.

The gnome had faded.

The fragment?

Percy would be having nightmares about the way it had left existence.

With that, the force subsided and drew back out into the merfolk from whence it came. Percy had been so ridiculously battered, inside and out; it was a struggle not to let himself give into his own feelings. When he could open his eyes again, he was being dragged much more gently toward the shore, along with the kids.

"Are you okay?" he asked blearily.

"Is it gone?" Harry returned, voice shaking and hands clasped tightly in Ron and Hermione's as the merfolk towed them along.

"It's gone," Percy and his acquaintance said flatly at the same time. His acquainted selkie, at least, was more comforting about it, though. She squeezed Harry's shoulder and seemed unfazed when he shook her off.

Harry scanned his gaze down Percy as if he could somehow see the damage. Finally, his jaw set and he shook his head, "Then, I'm okay."

"Okay," Percy agreed, unwilling to address anything right that second.

Their voices faded to unimportance as Percy tried to focus solely on holding himself together long enough to get back into the castle. He felt as if he'd been hollowed out and filled with the memory of pain. It wasn't that it ached so much as it felt… wounded, like his acquaintance had said before the ritual began. Something had been broken and would never mend quite the same way again. With that on top of the exhaustion, he didn't want to be with people just then.

"The gillyweed will wear off any moment, get them up."

They were hoisted onto the shore, the kids easily getting up and hacking out lake water as their lungs shifted again. Less willing to exert unnecessary energy, Percy merely rolled onto his side and threw up, sand sticking to his cheek and rocks digging into every point of contact with the ground.

He laid there, breathing in the smell of lake and sick, until he could hear Hermione asking if he was alright. Instead of bothering with an answer, he rolled the other direction and pushed up to his knees, then waveringly to his feet.

Instead of taking his progress from unmoving to walking towards the castle as the answer it was, she repeated the question. The cheek of that girl.

"Yes," Percy managed. Yes, he was alright. He was fine. He was alive and his kids were safe. Ish. For now. As if reminded that he needed to check, Percy added, "Were any of you hurt?"

The chorus of negative replies was music to his ears. They hadn't quite experienced what he had. Perhaps because there were three of them and their part in the ritual had been mostly passive. Either way, it was over and they hadn't been hurt.

He'd fixed something.

It was a tiny inkling of relief alongside the general misery and it was that which made his eyes burn with unshed tears. Picking up the pace, he found his glasses in his pockets and a part of his brain marveled that he'd tucked away his glasses at some point and they had remained there for the entire duration. Which had been, evidently, around an hour, considering the limitations of gillyweed.

An hour of that-

A shudder wracked his frame and it was only partially from being cold and wet. Abruptly reminded that he had a body and was a wizard, he cast drying and warming charms on them all as they entered the castle. Unintentionally, this meant he also interrupted and thus ignored any follow up questions concerning his well-being for a moment.

Hadn't he wanted to bring them to the kitchens afterwards? He couldn't. Not right then. Maybe tomorrow morning, he'd sit them down and they'd talk about it. But right then…

Sensing his urgency, they followed him up to the tower with a minimum of questions, all of which could be answered with some variation of "I'm fine" and "it's alright."

He sent them up the stairs to their dorms; they were surprisingly non-combative, sharing a look and going peacefully up without another argument. It would have been suspicious if they hadn't seemed wearied from the horrifying experience they'd just been through, as well. Probably they'd hunt him down tomorrow but he just- he just needed tonight.

In a haze, Percy left the tower and wandered in a fugue-like state, mind blank and emotions on pause until he found a classroom that was appropriately isolated and empty. He walked into the room, not bothering to light the torches, heading directly to the furthest, most cluttered corner. The cloth-covered piles of chairs were easy to pull in closer with a single spell until he was surrounded by white, sliding down to the floor with only stone to his back and unseen by the world.

Percy drew his knees up to his chest and wept.

Who could do that to a child? And why to one under his protection? He could feel the wound the selkie had predicted, feel the way his magic bent around it - crooked and wrong and uneven. He could feel it. He was never going to be able to cast- he couldn't cast an entire branch of magic ever again thanks to whatever sick bastard had thought permanently mutilating themself sounded fun and practical. In fact, Percy was going to fail a NEWT. He might as well drop the class. This brought on another round of bitter tears as Percy pressed his forehead harder against his knees, wrapping one hand over his mouth and muffling any sound that might escape.

Given the timing, Lockhart might well believe he'd scared Percy away.

A muffled laugh joined the sobbing and Percy slammed one foot against the floor in childish frustration at his own helpless humor. There wasn't a better way out of this. It was a big deal - removing a heart. Even before the selkie had said it, a part of Percy had known it, deep down. If it hadn't been for the sheer numbers and power of the merfolk and their assistance, Percy had no doubt it would have been impossible. Especially having experienced firsthand the force needed to do it. Someone would have died, had he gone to Professor Snape. Perhaps all of them.

But now, everyone was alive.

And the problem was fixed.

Incredibly, Percy burst into fresh tears as the small relief shone through again. Even if it ruined him, he could still accomplish something. For weeks, he felt as if he'd been running in place at the bottom of an ever-growing mountain, never able to even start the climb. Now?

Now he had at least touched a hand to its side.

He still wanted to scream and rage and break things because it just wasn't fair. But he'd been feeling that since the funeral. In contrast, the relief was novel and he would revel in it until it slipped through his fingers and he couldn't anymore. Sure, he was still miserable and crying, but at least there was that little bit of relief in there so his lungs didn't hurt quite as much as they might.

"Percy?"

Jolting, Percy accidentally smacked the back of his head against the wall with a loud, "Shit!"

It was, unfortunately, this reaction that allowed his little shadows to find him in the room. As he was gingerly holding the back of his head and trying to stop the stuttering sobs that began to taper off under the iron grip of his self control, Hermione, Ron and Harry peered around his barricades. His face heated down to his neck. He knew he looked a mess and it was obvious they could see that, too. Hastily wiping his face, he took a few deep, gasping breaths and ruthlessly slammed his emotions down for the foreseeable future.

"Hi," he gasped, wiping his face once more. "It's past curfew."

"Uh-huh," said Ron, sitting awkwardly a foot away. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Percy repeated for what had to be the fifteenth time that night. Hadn't they covered this already on the way in? He'd thought he'd managed to shake them, but they must have just snuck out after him. It was pretty impressive he hadn't seen them. That didn't mean they should be here. Even Percy might get in some trouble being out this late without a good reason. "You should go to bed."

Instead of listening, the three of them exchanged the same kind of look Percy had seen when he sent them up to their dorms. Hermione sat down beside Ron and Harry dropped to his knees to be at eye level. He reached a hand out hesitantly, glancing up at Percy multiple times before he committed to the action, and finally touched Percy's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

With just that miserable, guilt-ridden apology, something cracked in Percy's chest. Some barrier he'd relied on so long he'd forgotten he had it.

"No," he said. Then again, more insistently, "No." Gesturing at the three children, hair still disheveled from their dip in the lake and with the faint trace of tear tracks on their own cheeks, he demanded, "Come here."

He didn't expect to be so immediately obeyed - especially given that Hermione had not had the extra time with him that Harry had. But Percy found himself with his arms full as Harry, Ron, and Hermione clung to him with a fierceness born of the fading echoes of fear.

Hermione started to cry and without thought, Percy found himself following suit, squeezing the three tighter when Ron's sniffles grew suspicious and Harry's quiet shuddering was far more obvious than the boy would probably like.

Tears burned down his cheeks as he pressed his chin into the top of Ron's head and stated hoarsely, "It is not your fault. None of you. We're all okay, now." He trailed off into a murmur of it's okay, we're okay, throat tight with tears and occasionally overcome by a sob as they cried with him.

Percy didn't know how long they sat there, crying in the corner of an unused classroom blocked off by abandoned chairs. He did know that it had been quite a while, based on the way his head was pounding with a dehydration headache and his throat felt like he'd run over it with a cheese grater.

No doubt the kids felt just as miserable.

"Okay," he whispered softly when the last sniffles had trailed off. At this point, Ron and Hermione had relaxed into sad piles of boneless children and were mostly just lying against him with Harry maintaining his death grip on Percy's middle until the bitter end. "Alright," he said a little louder, patting backs gently. "We can't sleep here. Come on."

With a modicum of grumbling, Ron sat up. Hermione briefly squeezed his hand and then followed. On the other hand, Harry. Harry still wasn't letting go. He buried his face deeper into Percy's side for a moment before finally releasing him and scooting quickly away to get to his feet.

"Okay," Percy repeated. That had happened. He didn't know what he could possibly say, but luckily, he had a clear course of action to take besides talking about it. "Let's get you all to bed before we run into a professor or Peeves or something."

"Yes, that would be the appropriate course of action." They all jumped, turning to the newly opened door as Professor Snape amended with an irritated drawl, "If it had been several hours earlier. Weasley, being a prefect does not give you the right to flout the rules entirely." The last sentence came out at a bit of a snap, before Professor Snape took in their oddly wrinkled clothing - particularly Ron and Hermione's pajamas - and all of their red eyes. He tipped his head curiously, some of the anger bleeding off. His voice was low and clipped though his eyes shone with interest, "What exactly have you all been up to, being out this late at night? And all together?"

"I couldn't sleep, and I took a walk, but Ron realized I wasn't there and Hermione had been studying late so they woke up Percy to go find me," Harry explained carefully. Something about his tone was still off. While Percy would usually find it endearing that Harry couldn't quite pull off a lie, this time it would work against them.

Professor Snape's nostrils flared; as Percy had predicted he'd picked up on the deceit - and been immediately offended by the attempt. There was a good chance he couldn't get away with a vague family emergency again. It was a miracle the professors had let it pass so far. He might have to tell the truth.

"Professor Snape," Percy interjected before he could tear into the children for their tissue thin cover story. "I think this is something we may need to speak to the headmaster about, sir. And considering the… difficult nature of what we've been through, the children might be better off in bed where they won't interrupt the story."

"Is that so?" Oh no. His tone was tightly reined in. Percy had said something inflammatory again without realizing it. "As the professor here, I think we all should take a trip to the headmaster's office. So we don't miss any vital pieces of the story."

Oof. It seemed Professor Snape didn't want Percy controlling the narrative which was- well, fair. He hadn't told them much at all, lately, despite the events that kept dragging him out of the shadows and into their sphere of attention.

He still didn't want to tell them everything. His hedge magic practice was something that needed to be kept as understated as possible. Even with the- the wound he'd sustained, his plans for Lucius were still doable. Technically speaking, he wouldn't be cursing Lucius at all.

Percy roughly swallowed and nodded his assent, sweeping a hand to the side for Professor Snape to lead the way. He didn't. Instead, he crossed one arm over his chest and lightly touched his chin with the other hand, visibly thinking as his frustration cooled.

"On the other hand, there's truly no need to bother Headmaster Dumbledore with a group of hooligans at this time of night. I could simply strip you of your prefect status and call it done."

He- he couldn't. He wouldn't! Percy's mind stumbled over the threat and careened downward. What was it with professors and blackmailing him lately? His veins thrummed with furious adrenaline before his own thought registered and he looked up at Professor Snape, eyes shuttered and stance defensive. Blackmail, huh? He hadn't fully pieced it together consciously, but it appeared to be correct, now that he could take in the professor's leading tone. This wasn't just him being cruel.

"What do you want, sir?"

The question was, perhaps, more blunt than the situation should have called for. No doubt, Percy was meant to dance around the idea, muddy the waters so they could come to a deal with plausible deniability of some sort. He was too goddamn tired for that.

Professor Snape paused unreadably before he leaned in, his height nearly equal to Percy's but no less intimidating for not looming over him. In one fluid motion, the professor wrapped his fingers around his own left wrist and hissed for Percy's ears only, "I want you to undo your foul aunt's binding, Weasley. What else?"

No conscious part of him knew what in the hell the professor was talking about, but some latent memory tugged at him to look. He reached out with his will down the fragile bond between them - wasn't that a shock to the nerves - and found - found… Muriel. Or her magic. What was left of her effect on this earth tied in a complex Celtic knot blazing white to his other senses on the professor's wrist. It was just as blatant as the sickly, grey-red mess a few inches below it. A sickly mess that stank of the fragment's magic and was just as convoluted as his great aunt's binding.

"Oh, fuck me," Percy said and drew his wand.