Disclaimer, again. All characters are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner
Bros. Apparently now. I don't own any of them, I'm just obsessed, changing
sleeping habits to fit in writing time for them. Yikes that sounds sad.
Don't sue! I don't make money from this, purely for love of the characters
does Anlia write.
Author's note; This story is dedicated to Silver, whose a loyal fan if there ever was one and who I must thank for her constant reviewing. Thanks!
Also, it is dedicated to Iniga, whose wonderful stories and beautiful portrayal of Ron and Percy inspired a great deal of this fic. Thank you and please keep writing. Onwards!
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Soft light filtered through the window. Dancing dust particles weaved in and out and her eyes focused on every one until it glittered out of sight.
The seat she sat on was hard, much too hard for her much too thin frame, but she didn't care. She never cared.
Everything was in focus, everything around her. She could hear the plants growing, feel the air pushing at the outside of the windows.
She glanced down at her hands. She was holding…..*Focus!* came the inner voice. Rebelliously she continued to look out of the window. *Focus Mappe!* Whose voice was that? Her own, her parents pleading with her to come back to them, to reality. Time and again.
She was holding a cup. It was warm. She was drinking something. Mappe Maleficent looked down in pleasant surprise. The thought she had been trying so hard to grasp...came. *Coffee, not too hot, sweet, sugar and creamer.*
Biting the urge to giggle she focused her eyes on the liquid, now rapidly growing cold. Brown, swirled with cream.....beautiful. It reminded her of someone. Something.
No matter. Briskly Mappe pushed her stringy hair out of her face. Her eyes caught two men staring at her from the booth over. A coffee shop. Gloucester. Near her home. _Her_ home, totally completely hers now that those two were gone. Her parents, gone. Gone, gone, really gone.
*Focus Mappe* She sighed. Very well. Again she caught their eyes. They both looked at her with something akin to fascination. She smiled broadly, allowing herself to be pleased at their reaction.
Shuddering they both returned to their conversation, casting furtive glances over their shoulders. Something quirked at the corner of Mappe's mouth.
Muggles were so very easy to bait. Her graying crooked teeth were set in a thin, white face. Dark circles under eyes, she looked like she had battled illness for most of her life. But she had not. Mappe Maleficent liked the way she looked. Liked people's typical reactions. Curiosity, fear, pity.......no, Mappe's thin lips turned down. She didn't like pity. Never had....but it didn't matter.
She did giggle now. Didn't matter. She stood up, forgetting why she had come here. Didn't matter anyway. Muggle baiting? No, she could do that anywhere. Coffee? She could get it at home. Her house elf, completely loyal and unquestioning would have gotten anything for her. Trissy had taken care of her and her family for as long as Mappe could remember.
Which, most of the time wasn't very long concerning anything.
In fact, Trissy should be waiting for her. The repulsive creature always kept tabs on her. Mappe didn't like it. She didn't like to be watched. Except by Muggles. They were so easily disturbed.
She stood up, her long thin hands resting on the sticky table. She raised a gray eyebrow, grimacing. Disgusting really. This Muggle world. The thoughts that floated away and came at intervals were beginning to collect themselves.
She could feel it. Something had been stirring. She could always feel it. Even if she was not welcome.
A hand on her shoulder as she turned to leave. Snarling, she met.....oh, no matter, simply another Muggle. He looked displeased for some reason. Staring at him she realized he actually wanted her to pay.
She focused on him. This would be fun. It always was.
"Miss, I said you need to pay for that coffee. T'ain't free, y'know."
"Free?"
"Yup, yeh need to...pay." The heavy-set man trailed off, wiping his hands uncertainly on his smudged apron. No one paid any attention to them as they stood there, eye to eye.
"No, I don't wish to."
"Yeh....don't...wish...."
"That's right, I don't wish. And if I don't wish it....I don't do it." She was smiling now. He smiled back absently. Her eyes. Swirling, sparkling, darkness and light, they were pulling him in.
The Muggle's watery blue eyes began to widen. He swayed on his feet. She reached out a finger and touched his shoulder. Amazingly, it steadied him.
A crash. No one looked up. Shattered mugs and a tray on the floor. No one noticed.
The tiny bell on the door tinkled pleasantly as it swung open, then shut.
"Rupert!! That'll be comin' out o' yer pay..."
An older man with a five o' clock shadow on his face growled at the younger man who blinked dazedly.
"What do ya thin' yer doin'?" Rupert the waiter looked down at the mess sheepishly.
"Nothin' Mr. Grenville. Just wiping this table." The rag began its work as Rupert whistled cheerfully.
Mr. Grenville scowled at him before turning away, muttering about incompetent help and wastefulness in a time of poor economy.
No one in the café even looked up.
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*Percival Weasley, Ministry employee extraordinaire* That sounded pretty good. Even better was, *Percival Weasley, Minister of Magic*
Tap, tap, tap. *Or, how are you and the missus today, Mr. Weasley? Still holding up the Ministry?*
A few candles flickered, trying to remind the redheaded youth that it was getting late. The afore-mentioned Percival Weasley, better known to most as Percy, wasn't paying attention.
Tap, tap, tap. Percy's wand tapped against the side of his desk, absently. Paperwork was neatly filed to the side, done hours earlier than expected. As always.
Office tidied, floor cleaned, errands to run, even checked in at....*ooops*. Percy sighed deeply. He'd forgotten something he needed to do but it still didn't matter. He...was...._bored_.
Bored and daydreaming. His wand, ten inches, blue fir with a unicorn tail at its core like nearly all Weasley wands, tapped against the side of his immaculate desk again, and again, and again.
Hmm, *How's that family coming along? Son heading down the path you were? Prefect, Head boy, Ministry employee like his father, eh, Weatherby?*
Percy's lanky frame nearly fell out of its chair. Where did _that_ come from? Dusting himself off with as much dignity as he could muster (and for him, it had always been quite a bit) he looked around to see if anyone had caught him staring off into space.
Nope. Most others in his office were gone, left without even telling him. International Relations, where he'd been since the events of late summer of this year. After the Triwizard Tournament.
Percy's pleasant daydreaming was now decidedly cut short. Running a hand through his neatly combed, bright red hair Percy sighed deeply.
*Need to check in, wonder what time it is. Mum's going to be worried.* Percy nearly rolled his eyes but resisted. Molly Weasley, his mother, was one of the few in his family that wasn't irritated, angered or downright disgusted by his oft-times pompous behavior.
Any further pleasant daydreaming was now off limits with that thought. Scowling, Percy stood up.
*Wonder if Dad..er, _Father_ is still here.* Percy headed towards the door and opened it to a deserted hall located in the Ministry of Magic.
*I really need to look into getting a place of my own.* Percy had enough money. He could even ask Penelope if she minded moving in with him, though the thought of being so brazen caused a deep red to creep up into Percy's freckled countenance. He'd think about it later.
Percy's attention came back to the deserted hallway when he found it _wasn't_ so deserted after all.
Someone was coming towards him. Dark, thin moustache and cold eyes. Macnair. Percy's thoughts of what Ron had said about this man were pushed away by necessity.
It wasn't as though Percy enjoyed pushing thoughts of his youngest brother out of his head, usually it was just the opposite. But as a junior employee, and being decidedly lower on the Ministry totem pole, Percy did what he could to be on the winning side.
*The winning side.* An eerie feeling came over him. Suddenly what had been an annoyance became a necessity. A childish, startling necessity to check in with his father. But none of the Weasleys had ever been sterling in Divination, even with their top marks, at least not to his knowledge.
Maybe it was Macnair's disconcerting glance, which hadn't left the young Weasley ever since seeing him in the hall.
Raising a hand and pushing up his horn-rimmed glasses, Percy said stiffly. "Hello Macnair. Working late?"
Macnair smiled. It was one of the most unpleasant things Percy had seen in a long time. "Percy Weasley. I was just looking for you."
Something in Percy's subconscious told him that wasn't necessarily a good thing. He chalked it up to the growing darkness and tension he'd been feeling at home.
"Something you need?"
Macnair's smile was gone. "No, not really. Just wanted to chat. Looking for your father?"
Percy's face was wooden. He was good at keeping it like that, to his own and family's great frustration.
"As a matter of fact, yes."
Percy didn't want to keep talking to this man. He found that he didn't really like him, fellow Ministry employee or not.
"He's gone. Left a few minutes ago."
*Without telling me?* Percy pushed away the initial feeling of hurt with not a little embarrassment. It wasn't very typical of his father, that was all, especially lately.
"Yes.....as a matter of fact. I'd say the place is pretty much deserted."
Macnair wasn't looking at Percy any longer. He was looking over the tall young man's shoulder.
The smile was back.
Percy looked at him apprehensively. Something felt.....wrong.
A hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind, startling him. Another voice, younger, that Percy didn't know said, "Let's chat, then, shall we Weasley?"
"Stupefy!" The last thing Percy saw was his own wand clattering to the floor and Macnair's shined shoes.
**************************************************************************** **
~ "Arthur.....you cannot possible hope to keep this up. My master is still looking for your brats and we will find them."
"What is it that you hope to achieve, Malfoy?"
"Don't you think I mean my threats? The more children you have the more I will destroy, in front of you. It doesn't matter what you do. I will always remember, now or later. Keep close tabs, Weasley......you may lose something precious if you don't."
"Your threats were never very original, _Lucius_. And your so-called master cannot hope to hold onto power forever. Not with Dumbledore standing against him and Hogwarts intact."
"Not very perceptive, are we Arthur? You think your sons are safe there? You have two under that weak Muggle-lover's crooked nose. I know, but don't you have another brat? Not yet at Hogwarts? Or have you lost track?"
Arthur's blood froze.
"Yes, one you have barely seen. One who doesn't even know you by name. Pathetic isn't it? If your children are going to be disappointed in you, at least let them get to know you first. He isn't safe, is he? He won't be safe...won't know you, none of them are safe...none of them."~
"NO!" Arthur's head came up from his desk, his thoughts releasing him from his disjointed nightmare. *Percy!*
Trying to control his breathing, Arthur Weasley wiped some sweat off his brow and smoothed his remaining hair as best he could. Nightmares again. Nightmares he hadn't had for a long time.
Not since....Arthur smiled sadly, picking up a picture frame on his desk. He shouldn't have fallen asleep on the job anyway but with the hours he had been putting in, trying to account for the disturbing rise of what Fudge disgustingly called "Muggle hysteria" his over-worked body needed the rest.
The picture, like all in the wizarding world, was moving in front of his eyes. Molly, his wife, seven redheads....and one black. Harry Potter stood there, a half-smile on his face, shyly standing to the side of his youngest son, Ron, who had his arm around his best friend.
Harry's photographic self kept trying to duck his head, as though embarrassed to be there but Ron wouldn't let him. He kept pointing to the photographer, Arthur himself, a wide grin on his freckled face.
Arthur let his eyes rest on the dark-haired boy for a moment. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Fragments of the familiar nightmare came floating back to him as the last vestiges of day crept away from the windows.
Arthur wondered sometimes if Harry knew what he meant to the wizarding world. To the Weasleys themselves. His defeat of Voldemort meant the return of laughter and playing in sunlight. It meant the safety of his children. It _had_ meant that....
Arthur Weasley's stomach twisted. Voldemort's return. He knew what that meant, knew better than maybe anyone.
Still, it was very appropriate Harry had been in the Weasley family picture. He was one of them. Arthur smiled at the photograph. He was, indeed, a very fine boy. Amazing, taking into account the way he had grown up.
And for Arthur to criticize Muggles of any variety was certainly saying something.
Harry had his own family now, besides the Weasleys, though it wasn't very large. Sirius Black. Remus Lupin. His deceased father's best friends.
Arthur allowed himself a chortle of laughter in his deserted office when he thought of bumbling Fudge's reaction if he knew half of what Arthur did concerning the former convict alone. He had been taken aback by the knowledge of Black's innocence.....and the idea of Peter Pettigrew growing up so close to his sons was something he wasn't prepared to think about yet.
It made him ill. But Black was indeed Harry's godfather, in name and in deed. Although the man had yet to be cleared, Arthur felt sure that the essential evidence, namely Pettigrew's reappearance was close at hand. With all of the implications that came with.
Thinking of Pettigrew brought Arthur unpleasantly back to reality. He rested the picture back on his desk, stretching his tall frame and popping his back with satisfaction.
Something's one never got tired of, Muggle or Wizard. Arthur looked back at the picture. Percy, his third-oldest son looked back, face unreadable behind a stiff smile.
Focusing hard on his son's face, Arthur resisted the temptation to go and check up on him. Percy wouldn't like it and the familiar awkwardness he always felt around him would only cause more tension.
Sighing deeply, Mr. Weasley half-heartedly attempted to clean up his office before shrugging and apparating to his destination with a *pop*.
"Let's narrow this down. How do you feel about your brother, Ronald, for example?"
"Well, I love him in a 'he's my brother so I have to' kind of way"- Percy. Iniga, Cyanide
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Voices....he didn't recognize any of them. Who was talking? If Fred and George were planning something again he would take utmost pleasure hexing them into next Tuesday.
Waking him up like this. They would hear about it....they probably wouldn't listen but they would certainly hear....
Percy made to stir and froze when he realized that he couldn't. Move, that is.
It was cold. Damp and forbidding. *Where am I?* Percy's stomach did a double-roll and he pushed down his fear.
*Assess your situation, Weasley!* Percy wondered crazily if he should have become an Auror. Even his precarious situation didn't prevent him from grimacing when he imagined his younger brothers' reaction to _that_.
Percy tried again to move from his position. Nothing. He was stuck. Turning his head, he realized two things at once. One, the voices were coming closer and two, he had no idea who they were or where he was, because he was blindfolded.
"He's waking up, sir."
"Well...that didn't take as long as I'd feared. Can't give anything away just yet, can we Weasley?"
Percy scowled when he realized whoever it was, was speaking to him. He tried to move again and was rewarded with an explanation.
"Oh, don't bother. The spell won't be released until we see fit and we have some business with you, _Weatherby_."
Several malicious snickers followed the comment.
Okay, that did it. Now Percy was angry and not even his brothers like to see that. Of course, it didn't help his situation one iota but he could feel still feel his emotions mounting.
"Since time is of the essence, I suggest we get started."
"Where am I...who are you? Death Eaters?" Percy surprised himself at his own boldness. "Is this Macnair? Are you barking mad, what do you think you're playing at and......?"
Percy was cut off when his head was pushed back and something thick, steaming and incredibly vile was forced down his throat.
"Well, hopefully that will shut him up. Never stops talking, this one. Even his own flesh and blood won't have nothin' to do with him at times."
If Percy didn't feel the overwhelming urge to vomit, he might have been infuriated.....and hurt, by his abductor's comment.
He was gagging but the mixture somehow managed to stay down. Now he was concerned. Poisoning him? For what purpose? All of suppressed memories of Barty Crouch, Sr.'s death last year came flooding back to him.
Who would want to murder him? A tap on top of his head refocused his attention.
A low growl, a different voice met his ears as his head began to swim. Percy felt far away, his head swayed and lolled onto his shoulders. Something was happening to him.....he'd never experienced anything like it.
"Sure it's gonna work?"
"Of course, it worked on the other three we used it on. This one was the one we needed to interrogate though. His brother is thick as thieves with Potter, y'know."
*Ron* Through a deep haze, Percy realized they were talking about his little brother. A shiver of fear penetrated and he struggled a bit against the spell holding him back.
"Begin the questioning."
A soft slap whirled Percy's head around. It didn't hurt but Percy felt disconnected with his body, free from any sensation, pain or otherwise. The mixture he'd been given was settling heavily in his stomach, churning unpleasantly.
"What is your name?"
"Percival Weasley" Shocked, Percy felt his mouth answer of its own accord. Now he was genuinely shaken. What the hell was that stuff he'd been given? Oh...God....he knew the answer though he didn't want to.
"Who are your parents?"
"Molly and Arthur Weasley"
"How many siblings do you have?"
"Six" Percy was sweating, trying to fight against his traitorous body. It wasn't working. Something was in control. Veritaserum. What _was_ all of this?
"Six? Merlin's beard, it's a wonder the lad is sane."
"Shut up! All we need are answers, not your idiotic comments."
"Where do you live?" *NO! Not this, can't tell them....*
"A few miles from Ottery St. Catchpole"
"Is your house called the Burrow?"
"Yes"
"What is your youngest sibling's name?" Percy bit his tongue and tasted blood. He still answered, however.
"Virginia Weasley."
A silence. "Who is the one slightly older than her?" Percy's head swam. "Fred and George."
A longer silence. "Do we need to be more specific?"
"I said shut up! This is a test, we need to see how he answers to later questions."
The same voice, harsh and cruel cut into Percy's panicked thoughts. "That was cute. Won't do any good though, brat. Who is your youngest brother?"
"Ronald Weasley."
"Yes, young Ronald. Is he acquainted with Harry Potter?"
*No...no, no, no...* "Yes"
"In what way?"
"He is his best friend."
"How.....sweet." A gagging noise and more guffawed laughter in the distance. Percy hung his head for a moment.
"Where does Harry Potter live?" Percy immediately knew this was the question they had been after the whole time. Relieved, he felt himself answer.
"I don't know."
"You cannot lie to us. We know your family has taken Potter out of his summer home every year for several years now. _Where_ does the boy live?"
"I don't know." Percy almost smirked. "I've never been there."
Silence again. Mutters and an irritated, "How should _I_ know? No one tells me anything from higher up. We were supposed to get a hold of a Weasley and he was the easiest to get to. I thought he knew!"
The mutters stopped. Percy felt exhausted but he knew that his interrogation wasn't over. As for afterwards, he suppressed a shudder. He didn't hold any illusions.
"What members of your family have been to Potter's home?" *Oh...no....*
"Fred, George, my father....Ron" He listed the names off quickly.
"How did they manage to find it?"
"My father knows from Dumbledore. Ron knows because he corresponds with Harry regularly. Fred and George know....because they know." That said more than these lackeys could ever know about the terrible twins.
"Very good. A few more questions then you'll be on your way." Percy's mouth was a thin line. He didn't believe it for a moment, anymore than he trusted the false friendliness in the man's voice. But still.....he didn't have much of a choice in the matter right now.
"Does your family plan on having the Potter boy stay with you this year?"
"Yes, they planned on it but it isn't definite."
"Why is that?"
"Because Dumbledore said it wouldn't be wise right now."
"Why would _Dumbledore_" the name was spit out with some venom "say that?"
Percy was silent for a moment, then the Veritaserum dug deep into his memory, against his will. "Because of the protection his blood relatives give him right now."
"He lives with his blood relatives?"
"Yes"
"We weren't aware he had any. The records have been kept quite safe by your wonderful _Dumbledore_" Again, the name was tossed out like a curse.
"That is powerful magic. Is Potter aware of it?"
Percy bit back the temptation to ask how in the bloody hell he would know. He didn't answer. A painful spasm in his gut and a flash of agony in his head caused him to instinctively reply.
"No"
"Tell me, what would you do if we killed one of your siblings to get to Harry Potter?" The question was tossed out like a bomb and Percy was shocked.
"I would make sure you would never get the chance to do it."
"Ah, honesty! How refreshing" The heavy sarcasm didn't matter to Percy whose head still felt detached from his shoulders, despite the momentary flashes of pain.
"Thank you for this information, Percy. Truly....and don't worry. Although we can't provide you with excuses for where you have been the past few hours, we can promise you that you won't remember a thing.....Obliviate!!"
Percy Weasley, blissfully, knew no more.
**************************************************************************** **
Ron sat on his family's porch, swinging his long legs and swaying back and forth on the old, rusted swing.
It squeaked in protest but he barely noticed. Pigwidgeon, *still a stupid name* was off on an errand or else Ron would have used him to ask one of his two best friends, Hermione Granger, some advice.
It's what he usually did when he was worried, go to Hermione, as she usually had the answers. Subconscious or not, it had ceased to be embarrassing to the redhead for some time now. None of that mattered however as the porch door opened and slammed shut and timid footsteps approached him.
"Mum and Dad are phoning some Aurors."
"You sound like Dad."
"You just need to get the hang of using that _Telly-fone_ Ron, it isn't that hard. Indulge Dad for once. You like this old swing he put up."
Ron grimaced, finally noticing the terrible squeaking the old, rusty chains were giving off. "I'd like it better if I could put a Silencing Spell on it."
"I'm sure Dad will find the, er...loil? Eventually."
The quiet descended on the two youngest Weasleys. Ginny put her head on Ron's shoulder, who immediately put an arm around her.
"He's probably just doing some stupid Ministry stuff. You know how he gets. He was obsessed with Crouch and...." Ron tasted something bitter in his mouth as he remembered what Crouch, both the younger and the senior's, fate had been.
Ginny sniffed. Ron mentally smacked his forehead. "He's _fine_ Gin. He can take care of himself."
"I...I know."
The door opened and shut again. Two boys, identical from their worn sneakers to the top of their curly red heads, came sauntering out.
"Well, Perce has really gone and done it this time."
"Yes, dear Fred. Our wonderful older brother had finally given himself, mind, soul and body to the Ministry."
George clasped his hands in front of him and said in a falsetto voice. "Oh...my, my. It was only a matter of time. Percy and the Ministry, a match made in heaven."
Ron glared at the twins, feeling oddly angry. Usually he would have joined in but....he felt...well, something inside didn't feel right and with Harry's account of what had happened in late June....
Ron was worried. Percy hadn't come home from work today. Sure, he sometimes stayed there until obscenely late hours but he always checked in with their mum first.
Perfect Percy, always following the rules to the letter. Always...until today.
Mr. Weasley had even apparated back to the Ministry to check up on him. He had come back ashen-faced, and holding Percy's wand.
Molly, biting her lip, had contacted everyone from Penelope Clearwater, (Ron rolled his eyes remembering the Ravenclaw's annoying high-pitched cries, girls, how mental could you get?) to Albus Dumbledore without any luck.
Dumbledore had contacted Fudge, who had then spoken to Arthur at the Weasley's home, irritated and nervous.
Ron was getting even angrier remembering Fudge's blustering explanations as to where Percy probably was. Something about the way he was acting seemed......strange. And that had worried everyone from Ron's parents down to Ginny, who out of all of them was the most affectionately loyal to Percy, no matter what.
Except maybe the twins. They were elbowing each other and grinning. Ginny scowled at them and rubbed her eyes fiercely.
Ron continued looking ahead. "What time is it?"
"You're asking us, ickle Ronniekins?"
"Why, past both of your bedtimes, certainly."
"I'm not going to sleep until Percy is here and stop calling me that!!" Ron's outburst caused all three to step back and look at him, surprised. Ginny smiled at him briefly before turning a determined look onto her older brothers.
"Same goes for me."
Fred rolled his eyes and George stood in front of his younger siblings, tapping a foot on the porch.
"Listen you two. Ol' Perce is a workaholic who loses his sense of time, space..."
"The world as we know it..." Fred contributed helpfully.
"Yes, thank you, oh brother of mine."
"Certainly, Gred"
"As we were saying..."
"An' you should probably listen up, since we are older and wiser"
"Not to mention better-looking." Ron swiped at George half-heartedly when he mussed up his hair.
"Sometimes Percy can be a bit...er, caught up in his sad little world."
Ginny's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Mum and Dad tend to overreact. It's what they do best, y'know."
Ron began swinging his legs again. "Then why isn't he at the Ministry?"
Silence. Fred looked at George, (or was it the other way around?) and both shrugged. Ron peered at them as they stomped back inside, catching something for one slight moment. Worry. The twins were actually worried.
And that scared Ron more than anything that had happened so far.
A crunch of gravel caught his attention. He looked into the darkness of the summer night, barely seeing a tall figure coming down the path through the yard, weaving slightly on their feet.
Ginny jumped up from beside him and ran down the steps, grabbing the figure in a tight hug. Ron felt something give inside of him and rubbed the back of his head, feeling stupid.
"Percy! You...where _were_ you!! You scared us really badly! I...." Percy, hair mussed and robes in disarray, looked down at his little sister, not returning her embrace.
Ginny looked up, her face clouded with uncertainty. "Percy? Are you all right?"
Nothing, no answer. Ron was now on his feet as Ginny looked to him pleadingly for help. He grabbed one of his older brother's arms and began leading him up to the door.
The dazed, empty look on Percy's face made Ron's stomach twist with anxiety. What in bloody hell had _happened_ to him?
As they walked into the Burrow's kitchen, the three were greeted with a storm of hugs, tears and questions.
Percy responded to none of them.
Arthur grabbed his son and hugged him tightly, forgetting about his usual awkwardness around Percy in his relief.
Nothing. Molly sat Percy down at the table and the Weasley family, minus two, looked at him with concern.
"I knew it, had to happen some time. His mind has finally snapped."
"Shush Fred! Percy, dear? Are you all right? Where were you? You had us all very worried...."
Percy's hazel eyes, just like Ron's, yet different from the rest of the family's simply stared ahead, not registering any of them.
Ginny made a squeaking noise, trying to cover her tears. Molly was close to that herself. "P-Percy?"
Molly turned to her husband. "Arthur...what's happened to him? Do you think?" She didn't finish that sentence, her face a mask of fear.
Arthur Weasley, his face white, looked his son over, beginning to understand what had happened to him. He knew that dazed look. A feeling of absolute fury was coming over him, turning his ears red.
"Arthur?" Molly looked at him uncertainly.
"He's had his memory tampered with. I'd know that spell anywhere."
Collective gasps met Mr. Weasley's comment. Fred and George looked at each other with disappointed expressions.
"Why didn't _we_ ever think of that? Brilliant, why it could have saved us so much trouble"
They were ignored, probably for the first time in a long time. Ron's head was spinning. Who would do this? Percy could be a pompous pain in the....sure, but he was harmless.
Arthur took out his wand. "Enervate" he said softly. A dull light flashed around Percy's head and his chin immediately slumped down on his chest.
Molly stepped forward but was stopped by her husband. Percy lifted his head after a moment and looked at them, absolute confusion in his eyes.
"Wh-What?"
"Percy" Molly's face dropped several years as she gathered her son, head and shoulders taller than her, to her in a fierce embrace.
Arthur had a hand on Percy's shoulder, waiting for him to fully come to to ask some questions his son probably wouldn't be able to answer.
First, however. "Ron, Ginny....Boys" All four had their eyes on Percy, fascinated. None even registered their father's voice.
"It's late. Time to head upstairs." Still nothing. This was getting old.
"It's summer." George interjected, watching Percy with morbid interest.
"Your mother and I need to sort some things out. Go on." Ginny sighed, knowing that tone. Not even she could dissuade their dad when he sounded like that.
The twins and Ginny began walking up the stairs. Ron lingered, however, at the bottom, watching his older brother nervously.
"Percy....do you know what happened?"
A shake of the head.
"What was the last thing you remember?" Percy's eyes looked dull and tired, his face pale and sweaty. He suddenly jumped up and ran to the sink, violently ill.
Arthur's concern increased tenfold. Molly rubbed her son's back helplessly as her husband made his way over.
Catching a sniff of something....potent, he stepped back. Molly looked at him, her face unreadable except for the eyes. Both knew that smell.
Molly began leading Percy into the living room, probably to lay down on the couch. Arthur, turning to follow saw his youngest son standing in the shadows and sighed deeply.
"Ron, I remember telling you to go to bed." Ron didn't answer. He felt foolishly afraid and childish and had no idea why.
His dad was in front of him, leading him up the stairs. "Percy will be all right. He just needs to rest and then we can figure out what's happened."
Ron nodded and his dad placed a gentle hand on the top of his head before walking back down the stairs.
Later that night, Ron crept out of his bedroom, trying not to make any noise as he headed towards Percy's room. The ghoul was, luckily, in a cranky mood that night and was banging on some pipes to show its displeasure.
As the rest of the Weasley family was quite used to it, it didn't have the desired effect.
Percy was laying on top of his bed, pale as a ghost, his hair matted with sweat.
A bottle of Pepper-up potion had been set on a bedside table, by him. Ron couldn't explain what he was doing to anyone, let alone himself and since Hermione wasn't there to establish the answers for him, he decided to leave well enough alone.
*Weird, shouldn't be so dependent on...her, even if she is one of my best friends. Hope Pig got to the other one, and Harry damn well better answer in a hurry.*
Ron pulled up an old, worn chair and wrapped one of Percy's old quilts around him. He watched his brother's restless sleep until his eyes got rather heavy and then he gave in to sleep.
He awoke feeling slightly disoriented, *must run in the family, lately* not remembering where he was.
Percy was gone, probably to work and Ron was lying in his brother's empty bed with several more blankets on top of him, though he had no recollection of how he had gotten there.
He hoped his parents came up with some answers soon.
I know it seems confusing now. Just wait until later, just kidding. All will be revealed, all is planned out. (though not very well, um…okay, maybe I need to polish the plot a bit, but it will make sense eventually) As for my beloved Weasleys, how could I ever harm one of them, permanently that is?
Feedback is welcomed, Harry Potter rocks and all that. Until next time.
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Author's note; This story is dedicated to Silver, whose a loyal fan if there ever was one and who I must thank for her constant reviewing. Thanks!
Also, it is dedicated to Iniga, whose wonderful stories and beautiful portrayal of Ron and Percy inspired a great deal of this fic. Thank you and please keep writing. Onwards!
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Soft light filtered through the window. Dancing dust particles weaved in and out and her eyes focused on every one until it glittered out of sight.
The seat she sat on was hard, much too hard for her much too thin frame, but she didn't care. She never cared.
Everything was in focus, everything around her. She could hear the plants growing, feel the air pushing at the outside of the windows.
She glanced down at her hands. She was holding…..*Focus!* came the inner voice. Rebelliously she continued to look out of the window. *Focus Mappe!* Whose voice was that? Her own, her parents pleading with her to come back to them, to reality. Time and again.
She was holding a cup. It was warm. She was drinking something. Mappe Maleficent looked down in pleasant surprise. The thought she had been trying so hard to grasp...came. *Coffee, not too hot, sweet, sugar and creamer.*
Biting the urge to giggle she focused her eyes on the liquid, now rapidly growing cold. Brown, swirled with cream.....beautiful. It reminded her of someone. Something.
No matter. Briskly Mappe pushed her stringy hair out of her face. Her eyes caught two men staring at her from the booth over. A coffee shop. Gloucester. Near her home. _Her_ home, totally completely hers now that those two were gone. Her parents, gone. Gone, gone, really gone.
*Focus Mappe* She sighed. Very well. Again she caught their eyes. They both looked at her with something akin to fascination. She smiled broadly, allowing herself to be pleased at their reaction.
Shuddering they both returned to their conversation, casting furtive glances over their shoulders. Something quirked at the corner of Mappe's mouth.
Muggles were so very easy to bait. Her graying crooked teeth were set in a thin, white face. Dark circles under eyes, she looked like she had battled illness for most of her life. But she had not. Mappe Maleficent liked the way she looked. Liked people's typical reactions. Curiosity, fear, pity.......no, Mappe's thin lips turned down. She didn't like pity. Never had....but it didn't matter.
She did giggle now. Didn't matter. She stood up, forgetting why she had come here. Didn't matter anyway. Muggle baiting? No, she could do that anywhere. Coffee? She could get it at home. Her house elf, completely loyal and unquestioning would have gotten anything for her. Trissy had taken care of her and her family for as long as Mappe could remember.
Which, most of the time wasn't very long concerning anything.
In fact, Trissy should be waiting for her. The repulsive creature always kept tabs on her. Mappe didn't like it. She didn't like to be watched. Except by Muggles. They were so easily disturbed.
She stood up, her long thin hands resting on the sticky table. She raised a gray eyebrow, grimacing. Disgusting really. This Muggle world. The thoughts that floated away and came at intervals were beginning to collect themselves.
She could feel it. Something had been stirring. She could always feel it. Even if she was not welcome.
A hand on her shoulder as she turned to leave. Snarling, she met.....oh, no matter, simply another Muggle. He looked displeased for some reason. Staring at him she realized he actually wanted her to pay.
She focused on him. This would be fun. It always was.
"Miss, I said you need to pay for that coffee. T'ain't free, y'know."
"Free?"
"Yup, yeh need to...pay." The heavy-set man trailed off, wiping his hands uncertainly on his smudged apron. No one paid any attention to them as they stood there, eye to eye.
"No, I don't wish to."
"Yeh....don't...wish...."
"That's right, I don't wish. And if I don't wish it....I don't do it." She was smiling now. He smiled back absently. Her eyes. Swirling, sparkling, darkness and light, they were pulling him in.
The Muggle's watery blue eyes began to widen. He swayed on his feet. She reached out a finger and touched his shoulder. Amazingly, it steadied him.
A crash. No one looked up. Shattered mugs and a tray on the floor. No one noticed.
The tiny bell on the door tinkled pleasantly as it swung open, then shut.
"Rupert!! That'll be comin' out o' yer pay..."
An older man with a five o' clock shadow on his face growled at the younger man who blinked dazedly.
"What do ya thin' yer doin'?" Rupert the waiter looked down at the mess sheepishly.
"Nothin' Mr. Grenville. Just wiping this table." The rag began its work as Rupert whistled cheerfully.
Mr. Grenville scowled at him before turning away, muttering about incompetent help and wastefulness in a time of poor economy.
No one in the café even looked up.
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*Percival Weasley, Ministry employee extraordinaire* That sounded pretty good. Even better was, *Percival Weasley, Minister of Magic*
Tap, tap, tap. *Or, how are you and the missus today, Mr. Weasley? Still holding up the Ministry?*
A few candles flickered, trying to remind the redheaded youth that it was getting late. The afore-mentioned Percival Weasley, better known to most as Percy, wasn't paying attention.
Tap, tap, tap. Percy's wand tapped against the side of his desk, absently. Paperwork was neatly filed to the side, done hours earlier than expected. As always.
Office tidied, floor cleaned, errands to run, even checked in at....*ooops*. Percy sighed deeply. He'd forgotten something he needed to do but it still didn't matter. He...was...._bored_.
Bored and daydreaming. His wand, ten inches, blue fir with a unicorn tail at its core like nearly all Weasley wands, tapped against the side of his immaculate desk again, and again, and again.
Hmm, *How's that family coming along? Son heading down the path you were? Prefect, Head boy, Ministry employee like his father, eh, Weatherby?*
Percy's lanky frame nearly fell out of its chair. Where did _that_ come from? Dusting himself off with as much dignity as he could muster (and for him, it had always been quite a bit) he looked around to see if anyone had caught him staring off into space.
Nope. Most others in his office were gone, left without even telling him. International Relations, where he'd been since the events of late summer of this year. After the Triwizard Tournament.
Percy's pleasant daydreaming was now decidedly cut short. Running a hand through his neatly combed, bright red hair Percy sighed deeply.
*Need to check in, wonder what time it is. Mum's going to be worried.* Percy nearly rolled his eyes but resisted. Molly Weasley, his mother, was one of the few in his family that wasn't irritated, angered or downright disgusted by his oft-times pompous behavior.
Any further pleasant daydreaming was now off limits with that thought. Scowling, Percy stood up.
*Wonder if Dad..er, _Father_ is still here.* Percy headed towards the door and opened it to a deserted hall located in the Ministry of Magic.
*I really need to look into getting a place of my own.* Percy had enough money. He could even ask Penelope if she minded moving in with him, though the thought of being so brazen caused a deep red to creep up into Percy's freckled countenance. He'd think about it later.
Percy's attention came back to the deserted hallway when he found it _wasn't_ so deserted after all.
Someone was coming towards him. Dark, thin moustache and cold eyes. Macnair. Percy's thoughts of what Ron had said about this man were pushed away by necessity.
It wasn't as though Percy enjoyed pushing thoughts of his youngest brother out of his head, usually it was just the opposite. But as a junior employee, and being decidedly lower on the Ministry totem pole, Percy did what he could to be on the winning side.
*The winning side.* An eerie feeling came over him. Suddenly what had been an annoyance became a necessity. A childish, startling necessity to check in with his father. But none of the Weasleys had ever been sterling in Divination, even with their top marks, at least not to his knowledge.
Maybe it was Macnair's disconcerting glance, which hadn't left the young Weasley ever since seeing him in the hall.
Raising a hand and pushing up his horn-rimmed glasses, Percy said stiffly. "Hello Macnair. Working late?"
Macnair smiled. It was one of the most unpleasant things Percy had seen in a long time. "Percy Weasley. I was just looking for you."
Something in Percy's subconscious told him that wasn't necessarily a good thing. He chalked it up to the growing darkness and tension he'd been feeling at home.
"Something you need?"
Macnair's smile was gone. "No, not really. Just wanted to chat. Looking for your father?"
Percy's face was wooden. He was good at keeping it like that, to his own and family's great frustration.
"As a matter of fact, yes."
Percy didn't want to keep talking to this man. He found that he didn't really like him, fellow Ministry employee or not.
"He's gone. Left a few minutes ago."
*Without telling me?* Percy pushed away the initial feeling of hurt with not a little embarrassment. It wasn't very typical of his father, that was all, especially lately.
"Yes.....as a matter of fact. I'd say the place is pretty much deserted."
Macnair wasn't looking at Percy any longer. He was looking over the tall young man's shoulder.
The smile was back.
Percy looked at him apprehensively. Something felt.....wrong.
A hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind, startling him. Another voice, younger, that Percy didn't know said, "Let's chat, then, shall we Weasley?"
"Stupefy!" The last thing Percy saw was his own wand clattering to the floor and Macnair's shined shoes.
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~ "Arthur.....you cannot possible hope to keep this up. My master is still looking for your brats and we will find them."
"What is it that you hope to achieve, Malfoy?"
"Don't you think I mean my threats? The more children you have the more I will destroy, in front of you. It doesn't matter what you do. I will always remember, now or later. Keep close tabs, Weasley......you may lose something precious if you don't."
"Your threats were never very original, _Lucius_. And your so-called master cannot hope to hold onto power forever. Not with Dumbledore standing against him and Hogwarts intact."
"Not very perceptive, are we Arthur? You think your sons are safe there? You have two under that weak Muggle-lover's crooked nose. I know, but don't you have another brat? Not yet at Hogwarts? Or have you lost track?"
Arthur's blood froze.
"Yes, one you have barely seen. One who doesn't even know you by name. Pathetic isn't it? If your children are going to be disappointed in you, at least let them get to know you first. He isn't safe, is he? He won't be safe...won't know you, none of them are safe...none of them."~
"NO!" Arthur's head came up from his desk, his thoughts releasing him from his disjointed nightmare. *Percy!*
Trying to control his breathing, Arthur Weasley wiped some sweat off his brow and smoothed his remaining hair as best he could. Nightmares again. Nightmares he hadn't had for a long time.
Not since....Arthur smiled sadly, picking up a picture frame on his desk. He shouldn't have fallen asleep on the job anyway but with the hours he had been putting in, trying to account for the disturbing rise of what Fudge disgustingly called "Muggle hysteria" his over-worked body needed the rest.
The picture, like all in the wizarding world, was moving in front of his eyes. Molly, his wife, seven redheads....and one black. Harry Potter stood there, a half-smile on his face, shyly standing to the side of his youngest son, Ron, who had his arm around his best friend.
Harry's photographic self kept trying to duck his head, as though embarrassed to be there but Ron wouldn't let him. He kept pointing to the photographer, Arthur himself, a wide grin on his freckled face.
Arthur let his eyes rest on the dark-haired boy for a moment. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Fragments of the familiar nightmare came floating back to him as the last vestiges of day crept away from the windows.
Arthur wondered sometimes if Harry knew what he meant to the wizarding world. To the Weasleys themselves. His defeat of Voldemort meant the return of laughter and playing in sunlight. It meant the safety of his children. It _had_ meant that....
Arthur Weasley's stomach twisted. Voldemort's return. He knew what that meant, knew better than maybe anyone.
Still, it was very appropriate Harry had been in the Weasley family picture. He was one of them. Arthur smiled at the photograph. He was, indeed, a very fine boy. Amazing, taking into account the way he had grown up.
And for Arthur to criticize Muggles of any variety was certainly saying something.
Harry had his own family now, besides the Weasleys, though it wasn't very large. Sirius Black. Remus Lupin. His deceased father's best friends.
Arthur allowed himself a chortle of laughter in his deserted office when he thought of bumbling Fudge's reaction if he knew half of what Arthur did concerning the former convict alone. He had been taken aback by the knowledge of Black's innocence.....and the idea of Peter Pettigrew growing up so close to his sons was something he wasn't prepared to think about yet.
It made him ill. But Black was indeed Harry's godfather, in name and in deed. Although the man had yet to be cleared, Arthur felt sure that the essential evidence, namely Pettigrew's reappearance was close at hand. With all of the implications that came with.
Thinking of Pettigrew brought Arthur unpleasantly back to reality. He rested the picture back on his desk, stretching his tall frame and popping his back with satisfaction.
Something's one never got tired of, Muggle or Wizard. Arthur looked back at the picture. Percy, his third-oldest son looked back, face unreadable behind a stiff smile.
Focusing hard on his son's face, Arthur resisted the temptation to go and check up on him. Percy wouldn't like it and the familiar awkwardness he always felt around him would only cause more tension.
Sighing deeply, Mr. Weasley half-heartedly attempted to clean up his office before shrugging and apparating to his destination with a *pop*.
"Let's narrow this down. How do you feel about your brother, Ronald, for example?"
"Well, I love him in a 'he's my brother so I have to' kind of way"- Percy. Iniga, Cyanide
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Voices....he didn't recognize any of them. Who was talking? If Fred and George were planning something again he would take utmost pleasure hexing them into next Tuesday.
Waking him up like this. They would hear about it....they probably wouldn't listen but they would certainly hear....
Percy made to stir and froze when he realized that he couldn't. Move, that is.
It was cold. Damp and forbidding. *Where am I?* Percy's stomach did a double-roll and he pushed down his fear.
*Assess your situation, Weasley!* Percy wondered crazily if he should have become an Auror. Even his precarious situation didn't prevent him from grimacing when he imagined his younger brothers' reaction to _that_.
Percy tried again to move from his position. Nothing. He was stuck. Turning his head, he realized two things at once. One, the voices were coming closer and two, he had no idea who they were or where he was, because he was blindfolded.
"He's waking up, sir."
"Well...that didn't take as long as I'd feared. Can't give anything away just yet, can we Weasley?"
Percy scowled when he realized whoever it was, was speaking to him. He tried to move again and was rewarded with an explanation.
"Oh, don't bother. The spell won't be released until we see fit and we have some business with you, _Weatherby_."
Several malicious snickers followed the comment.
Okay, that did it. Now Percy was angry and not even his brothers like to see that. Of course, it didn't help his situation one iota but he could feel still feel his emotions mounting.
"Since time is of the essence, I suggest we get started."
"Where am I...who are you? Death Eaters?" Percy surprised himself at his own boldness. "Is this Macnair? Are you barking mad, what do you think you're playing at and......?"
Percy was cut off when his head was pushed back and something thick, steaming and incredibly vile was forced down his throat.
"Well, hopefully that will shut him up. Never stops talking, this one. Even his own flesh and blood won't have nothin' to do with him at times."
If Percy didn't feel the overwhelming urge to vomit, he might have been infuriated.....and hurt, by his abductor's comment.
He was gagging but the mixture somehow managed to stay down. Now he was concerned. Poisoning him? For what purpose? All of suppressed memories of Barty Crouch, Sr.'s death last year came flooding back to him.
Who would want to murder him? A tap on top of his head refocused his attention.
A low growl, a different voice met his ears as his head began to swim. Percy felt far away, his head swayed and lolled onto his shoulders. Something was happening to him.....he'd never experienced anything like it.
"Sure it's gonna work?"
"Of course, it worked on the other three we used it on. This one was the one we needed to interrogate though. His brother is thick as thieves with Potter, y'know."
*Ron* Through a deep haze, Percy realized they were talking about his little brother. A shiver of fear penetrated and he struggled a bit against the spell holding him back.
"Begin the questioning."
A soft slap whirled Percy's head around. It didn't hurt but Percy felt disconnected with his body, free from any sensation, pain or otherwise. The mixture he'd been given was settling heavily in his stomach, churning unpleasantly.
"What is your name?"
"Percival Weasley" Shocked, Percy felt his mouth answer of its own accord. Now he was genuinely shaken. What the hell was that stuff he'd been given? Oh...God....he knew the answer though he didn't want to.
"Who are your parents?"
"Molly and Arthur Weasley"
"How many siblings do you have?"
"Six" Percy was sweating, trying to fight against his traitorous body. It wasn't working. Something was in control. Veritaserum. What _was_ all of this?
"Six? Merlin's beard, it's a wonder the lad is sane."
"Shut up! All we need are answers, not your idiotic comments."
"Where do you live?" *NO! Not this, can't tell them....*
"A few miles from Ottery St. Catchpole"
"Is your house called the Burrow?"
"Yes"
"What is your youngest sibling's name?" Percy bit his tongue and tasted blood. He still answered, however.
"Virginia Weasley."
A silence. "Who is the one slightly older than her?" Percy's head swam. "Fred and George."
A longer silence. "Do we need to be more specific?"
"I said shut up! This is a test, we need to see how he answers to later questions."
The same voice, harsh and cruel cut into Percy's panicked thoughts. "That was cute. Won't do any good though, brat. Who is your youngest brother?"
"Ronald Weasley."
"Yes, young Ronald. Is he acquainted with Harry Potter?"
*No...no, no, no...* "Yes"
"In what way?"
"He is his best friend."
"How.....sweet." A gagging noise and more guffawed laughter in the distance. Percy hung his head for a moment.
"Where does Harry Potter live?" Percy immediately knew this was the question they had been after the whole time. Relieved, he felt himself answer.
"I don't know."
"You cannot lie to us. We know your family has taken Potter out of his summer home every year for several years now. _Where_ does the boy live?"
"I don't know." Percy almost smirked. "I've never been there."
Silence again. Mutters and an irritated, "How should _I_ know? No one tells me anything from higher up. We were supposed to get a hold of a Weasley and he was the easiest to get to. I thought he knew!"
The mutters stopped. Percy felt exhausted but he knew that his interrogation wasn't over. As for afterwards, he suppressed a shudder. He didn't hold any illusions.
"What members of your family have been to Potter's home?" *Oh...no....*
"Fred, George, my father....Ron" He listed the names off quickly.
"How did they manage to find it?"
"My father knows from Dumbledore. Ron knows because he corresponds with Harry regularly. Fred and George know....because they know." That said more than these lackeys could ever know about the terrible twins.
"Very good. A few more questions then you'll be on your way." Percy's mouth was a thin line. He didn't believe it for a moment, anymore than he trusted the false friendliness in the man's voice. But still.....he didn't have much of a choice in the matter right now.
"Does your family plan on having the Potter boy stay with you this year?"
"Yes, they planned on it but it isn't definite."
"Why is that?"
"Because Dumbledore said it wouldn't be wise right now."
"Why would _Dumbledore_" the name was spit out with some venom "say that?"
Percy was silent for a moment, then the Veritaserum dug deep into his memory, against his will. "Because of the protection his blood relatives give him right now."
"He lives with his blood relatives?"
"Yes"
"We weren't aware he had any. The records have been kept quite safe by your wonderful _Dumbledore_" Again, the name was tossed out like a curse.
"That is powerful magic. Is Potter aware of it?"
Percy bit back the temptation to ask how in the bloody hell he would know. He didn't answer. A painful spasm in his gut and a flash of agony in his head caused him to instinctively reply.
"No"
"Tell me, what would you do if we killed one of your siblings to get to Harry Potter?" The question was tossed out like a bomb and Percy was shocked.
"I would make sure you would never get the chance to do it."
"Ah, honesty! How refreshing" The heavy sarcasm didn't matter to Percy whose head still felt detached from his shoulders, despite the momentary flashes of pain.
"Thank you for this information, Percy. Truly....and don't worry. Although we can't provide you with excuses for where you have been the past few hours, we can promise you that you won't remember a thing.....Obliviate!!"
Percy Weasley, blissfully, knew no more.
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Ron sat on his family's porch, swinging his long legs and swaying back and forth on the old, rusted swing.
It squeaked in protest but he barely noticed. Pigwidgeon, *still a stupid name* was off on an errand or else Ron would have used him to ask one of his two best friends, Hermione Granger, some advice.
It's what he usually did when he was worried, go to Hermione, as she usually had the answers. Subconscious or not, it had ceased to be embarrassing to the redhead for some time now. None of that mattered however as the porch door opened and slammed shut and timid footsteps approached him.
"Mum and Dad are phoning some Aurors."
"You sound like Dad."
"You just need to get the hang of using that _Telly-fone_ Ron, it isn't that hard. Indulge Dad for once. You like this old swing he put up."
Ron grimaced, finally noticing the terrible squeaking the old, rusty chains were giving off. "I'd like it better if I could put a Silencing Spell on it."
"I'm sure Dad will find the, er...loil? Eventually."
The quiet descended on the two youngest Weasleys. Ginny put her head on Ron's shoulder, who immediately put an arm around her.
"He's probably just doing some stupid Ministry stuff. You know how he gets. He was obsessed with Crouch and...." Ron tasted something bitter in his mouth as he remembered what Crouch, both the younger and the senior's, fate had been.
Ginny sniffed. Ron mentally smacked his forehead. "He's _fine_ Gin. He can take care of himself."
"I...I know."
The door opened and shut again. Two boys, identical from their worn sneakers to the top of their curly red heads, came sauntering out.
"Well, Perce has really gone and done it this time."
"Yes, dear Fred. Our wonderful older brother had finally given himself, mind, soul and body to the Ministry."
George clasped his hands in front of him and said in a falsetto voice. "Oh...my, my. It was only a matter of time. Percy and the Ministry, a match made in heaven."
Ron glared at the twins, feeling oddly angry. Usually he would have joined in but....he felt...well, something inside didn't feel right and with Harry's account of what had happened in late June....
Ron was worried. Percy hadn't come home from work today. Sure, he sometimes stayed there until obscenely late hours but he always checked in with their mum first.
Perfect Percy, always following the rules to the letter. Always...until today.
Mr. Weasley had even apparated back to the Ministry to check up on him. He had come back ashen-faced, and holding Percy's wand.
Molly, biting her lip, had contacted everyone from Penelope Clearwater, (Ron rolled his eyes remembering the Ravenclaw's annoying high-pitched cries, girls, how mental could you get?) to Albus Dumbledore without any luck.
Dumbledore had contacted Fudge, who had then spoken to Arthur at the Weasley's home, irritated and nervous.
Ron was getting even angrier remembering Fudge's blustering explanations as to where Percy probably was. Something about the way he was acting seemed......strange. And that had worried everyone from Ron's parents down to Ginny, who out of all of them was the most affectionately loyal to Percy, no matter what.
Except maybe the twins. They were elbowing each other and grinning. Ginny scowled at them and rubbed her eyes fiercely.
Ron continued looking ahead. "What time is it?"
"You're asking us, ickle Ronniekins?"
"Why, past both of your bedtimes, certainly."
"I'm not going to sleep until Percy is here and stop calling me that!!" Ron's outburst caused all three to step back and look at him, surprised. Ginny smiled at him briefly before turning a determined look onto her older brothers.
"Same goes for me."
Fred rolled his eyes and George stood in front of his younger siblings, tapping a foot on the porch.
"Listen you two. Ol' Perce is a workaholic who loses his sense of time, space..."
"The world as we know it..." Fred contributed helpfully.
"Yes, thank you, oh brother of mine."
"Certainly, Gred"
"As we were saying..."
"An' you should probably listen up, since we are older and wiser"
"Not to mention better-looking." Ron swiped at George half-heartedly when he mussed up his hair.
"Sometimes Percy can be a bit...er, caught up in his sad little world."
Ginny's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Mum and Dad tend to overreact. It's what they do best, y'know."
Ron began swinging his legs again. "Then why isn't he at the Ministry?"
Silence. Fred looked at George, (or was it the other way around?) and both shrugged. Ron peered at them as they stomped back inside, catching something for one slight moment. Worry. The twins were actually worried.
And that scared Ron more than anything that had happened so far.
A crunch of gravel caught his attention. He looked into the darkness of the summer night, barely seeing a tall figure coming down the path through the yard, weaving slightly on their feet.
Ginny jumped up from beside him and ran down the steps, grabbing the figure in a tight hug. Ron felt something give inside of him and rubbed the back of his head, feeling stupid.
"Percy! You...where _were_ you!! You scared us really badly! I...." Percy, hair mussed and robes in disarray, looked down at his little sister, not returning her embrace.
Ginny looked up, her face clouded with uncertainty. "Percy? Are you all right?"
Nothing, no answer. Ron was now on his feet as Ginny looked to him pleadingly for help. He grabbed one of his older brother's arms and began leading him up to the door.
The dazed, empty look on Percy's face made Ron's stomach twist with anxiety. What in bloody hell had _happened_ to him?
As they walked into the Burrow's kitchen, the three were greeted with a storm of hugs, tears and questions.
Percy responded to none of them.
Arthur grabbed his son and hugged him tightly, forgetting about his usual awkwardness around Percy in his relief.
Nothing. Molly sat Percy down at the table and the Weasley family, minus two, looked at him with concern.
"I knew it, had to happen some time. His mind has finally snapped."
"Shush Fred! Percy, dear? Are you all right? Where were you? You had us all very worried...."
Percy's hazel eyes, just like Ron's, yet different from the rest of the family's simply stared ahead, not registering any of them.
Ginny made a squeaking noise, trying to cover her tears. Molly was close to that herself. "P-Percy?"
Molly turned to her husband. "Arthur...what's happened to him? Do you think?" She didn't finish that sentence, her face a mask of fear.
Arthur Weasley, his face white, looked his son over, beginning to understand what had happened to him. He knew that dazed look. A feeling of absolute fury was coming over him, turning his ears red.
"Arthur?" Molly looked at him uncertainly.
"He's had his memory tampered with. I'd know that spell anywhere."
Collective gasps met Mr. Weasley's comment. Fred and George looked at each other with disappointed expressions.
"Why didn't _we_ ever think of that? Brilliant, why it could have saved us so much trouble"
They were ignored, probably for the first time in a long time. Ron's head was spinning. Who would do this? Percy could be a pompous pain in the....sure, but he was harmless.
Arthur took out his wand. "Enervate" he said softly. A dull light flashed around Percy's head and his chin immediately slumped down on his chest.
Molly stepped forward but was stopped by her husband. Percy lifted his head after a moment and looked at them, absolute confusion in his eyes.
"Wh-What?"
"Percy" Molly's face dropped several years as she gathered her son, head and shoulders taller than her, to her in a fierce embrace.
Arthur had a hand on Percy's shoulder, waiting for him to fully come to to ask some questions his son probably wouldn't be able to answer.
First, however. "Ron, Ginny....Boys" All four had their eyes on Percy, fascinated. None even registered their father's voice.
"It's late. Time to head upstairs." Still nothing. This was getting old.
"It's summer." George interjected, watching Percy with morbid interest.
"Your mother and I need to sort some things out. Go on." Ginny sighed, knowing that tone. Not even she could dissuade their dad when he sounded like that.
The twins and Ginny began walking up the stairs. Ron lingered, however, at the bottom, watching his older brother nervously.
"Percy....do you know what happened?"
A shake of the head.
"What was the last thing you remember?" Percy's eyes looked dull and tired, his face pale and sweaty. He suddenly jumped up and ran to the sink, violently ill.
Arthur's concern increased tenfold. Molly rubbed her son's back helplessly as her husband made his way over.
Catching a sniff of something....potent, he stepped back. Molly looked at him, her face unreadable except for the eyes. Both knew that smell.
Molly began leading Percy into the living room, probably to lay down on the couch. Arthur, turning to follow saw his youngest son standing in the shadows and sighed deeply.
"Ron, I remember telling you to go to bed." Ron didn't answer. He felt foolishly afraid and childish and had no idea why.
His dad was in front of him, leading him up the stairs. "Percy will be all right. He just needs to rest and then we can figure out what's happened."
Ron nodded and his dad placed a gentle hand on the top of his head before walking back down the stairs.
Later that night, Ron crept out of his bedroom, trying not to make any noise as he headed towards Percy's room. The ghoul was, luckily, in a cranky mood that night and was banging on some pipes to show its displeasure.
As the rest of the Weasley family was quite used to it, it didn't have the desired effect.
Percy was laying on top of his bed, pale as a ghost, his hair matted with sweat.
A bottle of Pepper-up potion had been set on a bedside table, by him. Ron couldn't explain what he was doing to anyone, let alone himself and since Hermione wasn't there to establish the answers for him, he decided to leave well enough alone.
*Weird, shouldn't be so dependent on...her, even if she is one of my best friends. Hope Pig got to the other one, and Harry damn well better answer in a hurry.*
Ron pulled up an old, worn chair and wrapped one of Percy's old quilts around him. He watched his brother's restless sleep until his eyes got rather heavy and then he gave in to sleep.
He awoke feeling slightly disoriented, *must run in the family, lately* not remembering where he was.
Percy was gone, probably to work and Ron was lying in his brother's empty bed with several more blankets on top of him, though he had no recollection of how he had gotten there.
He hoped his parents came up with some answers soon.
I know it seems confusing now. Just wait until later, just kidding. All will be revealed, all is planned out. (though not very well, um…okay, maybe I need to polish the plot a bit, but it will make sense eventually) As for my beloved Weasleys, how could I ever harm one of them, permanently that is?
Feedback is welcomed, Harry Potter rocks and all that. Until next time.
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