DISCLAIMER: See all the other chapters. Nothing had changed.
CHAPTER NINE
CHOICES
"Wake up, Mr. Minister Weasley."
The voice was freezing cold. Percy shuddered, awoke, yawned; tried to wake as peacefully as possible. He rolled over (like a good little lap dog) and turned to face his Master, glad for once that he was nearly blind.
"The happy twinsies were reunited today. "
"They were?" said Percy, (my wrong is righted) his words breathless with relief, "Do you think he'll forgive me? Do you think everything will be alright now?"
He had said the wrong thing. His master stared down at him, like a bomb seconds away from exploding.
"Not that I care," Percy lied quickly, "When you first came to me I did, but no more-"
"Shut your spineless little mouth," his master said in a dangerous calm, "it is painfully clear that you are beyond hope. I know you care about your miserable brothers, and will use that to my advantage."
"W-what do you mean, Master?" Percy faltered.
"I need one more favor of you."
(to be expected)
"What?"
Voldemort laughed hysterically, slapping his knees, clutching his belly.
Percy sat up, reaching for his glasses. He knocked over a glass of water on the night stand, and it seemed (i hope) that his Master might die laughing.
"I have them, Percy. Don't bother yourself. I like you better blind."
"What else do you want from me?" Percy cried.
"It was easy enough to replicate George's body… couldn't use the old one, ah, what a mess that was. Hardly anything left-"
"PLEASE DON'T TALK LIKE THAT!" Percy slapped his hands over his ears.
Voldemort waved his wand and Percy was forced to stand at attention. His master further amused himself by having him salute. (don't you fucking cry don't you fucking cry you deserve this humilation)
"I thought you didn't care, Minister. I thought you were evil incarnate. Hmmm?" He threw Percy back on the bed. "Enough fun. I'll come to my point. George will return to his full self, and they will be the happy Weasley Twins once again, and I will take away your nightmares- in fact, I'll make all of you forget this ever happened- if you tell me where your family is hiding."
"WHAT?" Percy squeaked. "I could never- exchange one for my whole family?"
"No- silly boy. Exchange your guilt for Ron."
"Ron?"
"He knows who keeps Harry's Secret. I know he does."
"Of course he doesn't! I don't even know where we were hiding!"
"Percy." Voldemort said sickly-sweetly, "Tell me who his Secret Keeper is. Tell me who knows. Who knows who it is, Percy? You know you want to tell me."
"I DON'T KNOW!"
"Your family doesn't care about you," Voldemort told Percy as if he were an idiot for ever thinking so, "The only reason they had you is because they already had two strapping boys. They were trying for a girl, weren't they Percy? And you weren't a girl, and then the twins were born and you were forgotten, weren't you Percy?"
"My parents love me!"
"I'll kill George. I'll follow in your footsteps. Imagine how poor Fred would feel… seeing his twin brother die again."
"I don't know where he is! I don't know who keeps his Secret! I don't have any idea!" Percy found himself groveling at Voldemort's feet. "Please leave my family alone- I'll do anything I can, please fix George- I don't know where my family is, they gave me a precise time to Apparate out!"
"Really?" Voldemort said.
Suddenly Percy was groveling in front of nothing.
* * * *
Bill had no clue where he was. He'd made it nearly two miles away from the hiding place before another attack of the heaviness hit him. He was surrounded by crowds of American Muggles.
"He's drunk!" one of them decided.
"Call C.H.E.I.R.S.!" said another.
Finally one bent down close enough for Bill to whisper in his ear, "I'm fine. Let me alone. I'll be fine in a minute."
"He's British!" That particular Muggle declared, and everyone murmured excitedly, as if that fact was important.
From far away Bill heard a horrible wailing noise that seemed to be getting louder and louder. He tried to ignore it and persuade his body to move, but between it and the Muggles he wasn't doing well.
After a few minutes the crowd stepped back, and Bill felt himself being rolled over on his back and lifted. He was on some sort of bed, and Muggles in uniforms were pulling his eyelids apart and putting their hands all over him.
"Leave off!" Bill cried. Now that he was on his back, he could talk much louder. "I'm fine! Just let me alone!"
Once of the uniformed Muggles pulled a horrible mask over his mouth. Bill panicked, flailing about as best he could, but the heaviness showed no signs of relenting. He was loaded in a van, where the Muggles continued to poke and prod at him. He was staring to feel weak… somehow, in all the confusion, he grew very drowsy…
He woke up with no memory of even shutting his eyes. He was in the whitest room he had ever seen. Long, glowing rods encased in some sort of weird material hung from the ceiling. He was still too heavy to move, so he called, "Where am I!"
A Muggle in a tiny white dress came running over. "John! You're awake."
"Where am I? Why do you call me John?"
"Oh, sorry honey. Someone stole your wallet, so we've been calling you John Doe. You're in the hospital, honey. You had a seizure."
"I did not. I-" Bill stopped. How could he possible explain it to a Muggle?
"Don't get excited, now, honey. You got any family you want us to call?"
"No," Bill said irritably. He didn't like the way the Muggle was snapping her gum, or the weird way she was looking at him.
"Do you want to sit up?"
"Certainly, if that were in any way poss-" Bill was silenced again. With a growl, the bed seemed to come alive. It was actually elevating! He didn't have time to be amazed, for he looked down at himself and screamed. There was a tube coming out of his arm, running up to a hanging sack full of liquid. "Merlin's Beard, what have you done to me?"
"Come down, honey, it's just an IV. We'll take it right out when you're ready to leave."
This information provided little comfort, but as Bill could not move, there was not much he could do.
"Do you feel up to answering a few questions, sweetie doll?" The girl asked, winking at him. Bill was taken aback. He didn't answer. "Good. What's your name, sweet thing?"
"Bill."
The Muggle girl giggled. "I'm gonna need your full name, honey."
Bill rolled his eyes. The girl seemed not to notice. "William Arthur Weasley."
"Do you have insurance, Billy?"
"What in the bloody hell is insurance?"
The girl emitted the most horrendous, high-pitched laughter that Bill had ever heard. Voldemort himself couldn't have done worse. "Your accent sure is cute, darling. We'll take that as a 'no.' Any allergies?"
Bill had no idea what an "allergies" was. He decided, as the risk of hearing her laugh again, that it would best to just answer no.
"And have you had epilepsy since you were a child, Billy?"
"Epil what?"
The Muggle raised a drawn-on eyebrow. "Alright, honey. Where are you from?"
"Ottery St. Catchpole."
He didn't know how he managed to do it again, but winced as that hideous laughter emerged from her heavily glossed mouth again.
"And do you know who Harry Potter's Secret Keeper is, baby doll?"
If Bill was able to move, he would have ended up on the ceiling with the bright lights. Instead he could only gape. "W-what did you say?"
"You heard what I said, Bill." The woman said, her lips curling grotesquely into an evil smile.
"Who the hell are you?" Bill cried.
"Tell me, Bill. I'm simply dying to know!" The torturous giggle again, then she looked at him inquisitively. "Don't you just hate being this way? All lethargic and weighted down? I can fix it, you know. You'll be normal."
She clasped her long hands together and brought them to her cheek, her penciled eyes raised toward the ceiling in mock-dreaminess. "You'll be able to fulfill your dreams!"
"You're lying," Bill spat.
"Am I, Bill?" she said, taking a step back. She outstretch her arms, and in a with a pop! became a man, dark-haired with nice teeth, wearing a black cloak. From the cloak he produced a wand, and when he waved it Bill was flying toward the ceiling, light as a feather-
Back to normal.
"Planning ahead is important, Bill, remember that. Always plan ahead."
Bill's first impulse was to run away, but was too frightened of the tube in his arm. The man seemed to sense this, and with another wave of his wand, Bill was incapacitated again.
"See? I can do anything, Bill."
Bill stared at him. The man's smile fell.
"Well, don't you even want to know how I did it? After every healer east of the Atlantic tried and failed?"
Bill didn't move a muscle.
"Because I put it on you, Bill." He looked pleased when Bill's face registered surprise. "Come now, you didn't honestly think your silly brothers were capable of such a curse, did you? Plan ahead, Bill. Always plan ahead., whenever you can."
"Who are you?" Bill repeated.
"Who else?"
Bill was beginning to wish he'd stayed at home.
"So, without further ado, I offer you a choice. I can gather from the fact that you were found lying face down on a Muggle street corner that my little curse is wearing you down, and you can no longer Apparate. Which means you must have found some other way to leave your family's hiding place. You left out the front door, didn't you, Bill?"
"No," Bill said, "I Apparated to the wrong spot. I'm rusty."
Voldemort laughed. "You're rusty at lying. Surely there must be Apparations wards on the house. I don't think your dear Mummy and Daddy would like the idea of their dying son coming out into the world. I think you had to sneak out, didn't you?"
"No, I told you-"
"You'll never be ill again, Bill. Never. Just tell me where they are. Tell me where Ron is."
"You honestly think I would sell out my family? I'd rather die," Bill told him firmly. "And I am not ill, and I am not dying."
"Ah, my boy, you will, don't worry, you will. Slowly. Come to me directly after the next full moon, or you'll be deader than George," Voldemort paused to laugh madly, echoing off the steril walls, "Quite literally."
The cruel, frozen laughter lingered for too long after he disappeared, and Bill was once again flying toward the ceiling…
Please review! And I have a new fic, if you want to read it. Just look for it under my name.