It was difficult to fight through the red, feverish mists that surrounded her in her state, thick clouds that threatened to crush her mind into vapor.  Penelope didn't know where they came from—perhaps the imprints of a true fever from her injury, perhaps the last fighting remains of the Imperius Curse that still fought for her.  Even then she could feel it, like tiny, sharp claws at her consciousness.  So painful.  She doubted her soul was yet strong enough to allow her a proper fight; she still wanted to just crawl into some dark corner and nurse it, a different sort of pain that weakened every last part of her as it mended the loose seams where her soul had been nearly ripped from her body.

Asa's face, suddenly kind again in memory, hovered at her thoughts, still crying.  Penelope felt the warm, tasty hatred that came forth.  Betrayed.  She felt so silly.  What a mistake, one she had always imagined herself above making.  The Order. . . they'd just tell her it could have happened to anyone.  But Asa. . . Asa had been Penelope's friend for so long, her teacher, her mentor during the long time Penelope had been searching for a threat to her side of the war.  How could it be, a kind Healer in the service of Lord Voldemort?  Penelope had made so many plans, so many decisions, all with Asa an ignored presence in the background.

So Asa had liked her, in the end.  Had made her a bargain.  No, not a bargain, but a deal in blackmail.  Penelope would keep her soul, and the Dementor brought in would go back hungry.  But she would receive the other half of the torture.  She would be placed under the Imperius Curse.  But it could be fought, yes.  And if she fought it?  Yes, maybe a Dementor could show up in the picture.  But it didn't necessarily have to have Penelope's soul. There were other souls in the village.  Perhaps the Dementor might prefer the taste of another's soul.  That of a certain young man?  These things could be arranged.

And so Penelope had gone on, but not fully obedient under Imperious.  She realized that she could fight enough, not quite enough to break it, but enough to get past the peaceful oblivion, be conscious, aware of the things going on around her, mildly ill at the things her body did.  She cringed, feeling her self slipping back into the Imperious.  How wonderful it wasn't that strong!  Asa was gone, the clever Healer out of the way, the one who had relied on a simple threat to keep a girl in line.  Well, Asa wouldn't be accused yet.

"Penny, are you all right?" Percy's voice echoed above her, strangely distant.

She force a nod and broke herself away from the red mists.  "Yeah, I'm fine.  It's just that. . .ow!"  Her movement struck at the shoulder wound.  "Damn.  Forgot about that."

Percy drew back, suddenly nervous, the poultice she had told him to prepare clenched in his fingers.  "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

She had to smile.  Men, especially Percy, could be such sweet babies.  "No, you're doing everything perfectly.  It's not either of our fault it still can hurt.  Just as long as it's clean."

He gingerly returned the poultice to the wound.  "It's just that. . . you're the Healer, Penny."

"Which means I'm capable of telling you what to do.  Trust me."

He studied her wound, face slightly green, before meeting her eyes.  "Shouldn't this be done. . . I don't know. .  indoors?"

"Indoors?"  She looked around at the trees.  "I didn't notice.  I really can't sense that much, under the Imperious. . . "  Damn it, she sounded like a schoolgirl giving an excuse.  "Percy. . . do you really believe this is me talking to you?"

He didn't blink. "Of course I do.  Everyone always said you can tell by the eyes." 

"You like my eyes?"

Then he did blink.  "It is you, isn't it?"  He sounded hilariously uncertain.

She laughed, nodding.  "It's me.  I promise.  And I hope it will.  Asa isn't here to make sure the Curse stays in place.  Sometimes I can feel it coming at me again, but its easier to fight."

Percy suddenly frowned.  "Brogan Marchent couldn't fight it."

"Brogan. . ."  Her mind whirled. "He was the one that stabbed me, wasn't he?"

He didn't answer, but his face twisted with anger as he slammed a fist at the ground, spraying dust. 

"Brogan. . . he isn't well," Penelope replied calmly.  She knew what Brogan was capable of, but it seemed too strange that he would attack her, of all people.  She was the one who had helped heal him after

Dormand attacked him.  But what could that mean to someone?  Someone like Brogan, who had trusted Dormand as his leader.  No wonder he was nuts.

"Of course he's not well!  He tried to kill you!"  Percy took a deep breath and was silent for a long time.  "He thinks your dead," he finished.

"Dead?"  She tried to get a good look at her injury, despite having already studied it and doled off to Percy instructions for taking care of it.  "How could he possibly think me dead?"

"He's crazy."

"Well. . . shouldn't someone tell him?"

"No!"  The word was like a knife, deep and cutting.  "No," he said more calmly.  "He might try to kill you again."  He looked about him, face fearful.  "Perhaps we had better leave.  He seemed really upset.  But he might still be around."

Still be around. . . She forced herself to sit up; the wound had stopped bleeding.  "He can't be. . . no one was supposed to be around when I went to see the. . . "  Her voice trailed off as fresh memories flew at her.  Instructions from Asa. . . instructions she had then written in a note to Remus Lupin.. . .  oh, no.  "They're coming!"

Percy dropped to her side and took her hand.  "Who's coming?"

She shook her head, inwardly cursing her own stupidity.  How could she have let that happen?  "I. . . I sent a letter to the Order.  To Lupin, actually.  He's going to come her, bring some people of the Order. . . and then I was to let the Dementors loose on them."

She felt Percy watching her, but she couldn't meet his eyes.  Finally, he asked "When are they supposed to come?"

"I have no idea." Her eyes felt hot, ready with tears.  She had done that.  Something against the Order.  Then, without her permission, a smile came. "Good thing I'm not going to release the Dementors."

He gave a laugh, one that seemed refreshing in all her fears.  "That is good.  Maybe we should thank Marchent for attacking you."

"This is perfect."  Realization was coming.  There was still time. And she didn't even need to write Lupin another letter.  The Order was coming, and with Asa gone there was no longer a threat.. . . she laughed and threw her arms around Percy, not minding the pain.  "It's so perfect!  Lupin and some others will come, and they won't be attacked, but we can explain everything and warn them about Asa!  They can help get rid of the Dementors!  It's wonderful!  The Order is actually coming!"  And after all this time of her not wanting to say anything.

Percy didn't want the Order to come.  Despite all of Penelope's happiness, he didn't want any more of them in the village.  How far could he trust Lupin to keep his secret?  How tempted would Lupin be to bring Percy's father or one of his brothers with him?  Even if he wasn't tempted, who might volunteer to come along?  And this was assuming Lupin had so far kept the secret.  He didn't try to show enthusiasm as Penelope explained her idea to Morsley and Valentine back at Penelope's tavern, but even so he was left fairly ignored.

"It's wonderful!" Valentine shrieked again and again. "This is perfect!  We're finally going to get help!"

"Am I not help?" Morsley put in.

"No, Winston, you're not," she replied with a wink.  "We're not going to worry about having to hide.  And on top of it, we've already got Gunnion out of the way as well, what with my letters."

"Letters?" Penelope echoed.  "You got them out of the way?  Excellent!"

Girls could be so strange, Percy thought.  So excited. . .  while he was left to deal with his family. 

It's silly, came an unbidden thought.  Was he worried about the Order coming just because of the chance a family member might be included?  Perhaps they were just safer if they stayed away from the village, Penelope out of mind control or not.

Was that really how he felt?  After all, he had been practically dragged into the whole mess against his will. . . why should they come voluntarily to danger?  In spite of himself, he smiled.

"I don't know when they're coming," Penelope was explaining.  "Very soon, I hope.  Lupin probably wants some time to pick people. If I know him, he'll want to have a good group."  She looked straight at Percy at that last phrase, and he went cold.  How did she always know what he was thinking?  "So we'll have to be ready.  Tell as many people in the village as you can.  Trust me, as far as I know, I'm the only here that had been under the curse.  I only want the four of us speaking to the Order, but I think the rest of the village should be prepared."  She laughed. "Isn't this great?  Oh, Asa will wish she had never left!"

"What about Brogan?" Morsely asked.

Brogan the nutcase.  When Percy saw him again. . . he didn't know what he would do.  He had tried to kill Penelope.  "He can't be trusted," he heard himself saying.

"Can't be trusted. . . ?" Valentine echoed.  "He's been working with us for a long time.  He. . ."

". . . Tried to kill Penelope.  I don't care what you think, he's too dangerous to be involved."  He didn't want to go through that again.  Not that fear, not that horrible sensation when Marchent had ran at Penelope with that knife. . . he gingerly touched the scar on his face.  Brogan Marchent would not be harming anyone else he cared for.  "We'll just have to keep him out of the way."

"He might do that himself," Penelope put in.  "He thinks I'm dead, that's probably upset him, and he might be hiding."

Morsley nodded, considering that.  "It wouldn't surprise me in the least.  Let's just hope he stays out of the way."

Hope indeed, Percy thought.

"He had better," Valentine said, voicing Percy's feelings.  "This is just too wonderful for anyone to screw up.  Winston, aren't you excited?"  She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.

Winston jumped back, surprised and blushing.

Percy smiled again.  That reminded him to do something.  He looked around for Penelope.

She was at the window, where an owl perched, calmly allowing Penelope to untie the letter, which she read quickly, her faced flushed with excitement.  That couldn't be good, not with her injury.  "Already?" she said softly.  Then she looked up, beaming.  "It's from Remus.  He's coming tomorrow."

Shout Outs:

Crystal Lightening:  Yes, well, I like scaring people.  Maybe I have some sort of death wish for Penelope.

Hydraspit:  Thanks.  I guess it would have been better for some character development to leave her dead.  On that note…. Who says she won't die?  I am the almighty authoress!  Bwahaha!

JerseyPike:  I realized that part would be confusing, but I thought it would be best this way.  I hope I explained it by doing Penelope's thoughts in this chapter and hope the rest of the characters would trust her.

Kemenran:  Thanks!

Mar:  That would have been the utter irony.  Hmm… maybe I should do some morbid rewrite to put that in.  That's be fun, in an evil way.

Nkittyhawk:  You say brilliantly dramatic. Ah, thankyee.  I kinda felt it was a tad cornball.  But I'm like that, so it's hard to fight it….