Once again, a HUGE thank you to my reviewers. You guys are the best and you make me want to keep writing. More romance - I just can't resist…

"Where have you been?" Percy scolded Hermes as his owl landed on the windowsill of the Executive Suite reception area. "You don't fool me, old chap. I know what you've been up to and I can't say that I blame you. I'd rather be with her, too."

Hermes let out an angry screech and eyed Percy in a dignified sort of way.

"Sorry, we can't go home quite yet. I have to finish copying these last few notes."

Percy looked down at his fingers which he was sure were permanently stained. When he had first accepted this assignment within the Order he had visions of excitement and danger, sneaking around in an invisibility cloak and rifling through desks. Instead, all he did was keep notes. If Cornelius Fudge said it, Percy had it on paper. It was boring and tedious and Professor Dumbledore assured him, it would one day be important. Sometimes, he could not resist goading Fudge into more outlandish statements. It just made things more interesting, and the right encouraging remark worked wonders. However, tonight things weren't interesting at all. His usually neat handwriting was beginning to look messy and the letters on the page were beginning to blur. He lowered his head to get closer to the page. If he just rested his eyes for a minute, maybe just a moment, he – would – be – able – to –

He was sitting on a park bench in the middle of Snape's classroom. Beatles were flying around the ceiling singing a pleasant rhythmic song. Penelope was there and she was beautiful. She walked toward him, straddled his lap and began to kiss him. He was running his hands inside her shirt and she made lovely breathy sounds as she moved slowly against him. It was bliss.

Suddenly, he looked up to see Ginny sitting at a desk twirling her hair with a quill. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh don't mind me," she smiled. "I'm just here to watch."

"Watch? Are you crazy?!"

"Oh, not at all. You set my example, Percy."

"And what an example it is!" said Fred, who along with George, was taking notes on a long piece of parchment across the room. "Don't worry, Perce. We're logging your every move."

"Consider it product research!" said George. "We're developing a new line of – "

"Stop it boys." Molly Weasley scolded as she sat knitting a sweater from her rocking chair. "You are doing beautifully, Percy. I am so proud of you. Just don't be afraid to use two hands on that bra strap, son."

"Ignore them," Penelope whispered as she undid a button and kissed down his neck.

Percy felt uncontrollable panic rising from within. "I can't ignore them!"

"Wrong answer, Weatherby," Mr. Crouch was now sitting next to them on the park bench drinking a cup of tea.

Percy jumped to his feet, knocking Penelope to the floor. "GO AWAY!"

"Percy, how could you?" she cried, looking up with a tear stained face before disappearing with a "pop".

"Penelope, wait! Not you! Please, don't leave me!"

Fred and George rose to their feet with applause, as the beatles swooped down into his face.

Percy's eyes jerked open to the sight of black ink spilling across his desk and a moth fluttering around his candle. He had knocked the well over. He reached for his wand to repair the damage and looked sheepishly over at Hermes, who was eyeing him sternly.

"I think I'm going to have to see her, Herm."

Suddenly, a paper airplane marked "Urgent, Minister of Magic" sailed onto his desk. He opened it out and smoothed the folds. It was from Mafalda Hophirk, in the Improper use of Magic Office. Percy's eyes skimmed the page. It was Harry. He had performed a Patronus in the middle of a muggle suburb. But how could this be? Harry was supposed to have guards following him. Something was dangerously wrong.

Percy opened his bottom drawer, took out the Phoenix feather quill and wrote quickly.

Professor Dumbledore,

Harry has performed a Patronus in front of a Muggle. Hophirk is on her way to the Minister's office.

P.W.

As he wrote the words they disappeared from the page. He had just enough time to replace his quill before Umbridge was standing by his desk.

"This just arrived Madame Umbridge. It seems Potter has performed a Patronus." Umbridge snatched the paper from Percy's hand and he could have sworn a smile flit across her ugly face as she read.

"This is serious Weasley. You must notify the Minister immediately. The boy is finally showing his true colors. Egotistical and unbalanced – not a pretty combination."

Percy shook his head, "Blatant disregard for the law." He scratched out a floo message to Fudge and tossed it into the fire, calling "Ministerial Mansion" into the flames.

"Good evening," Mafalda Hophirk appeared in the doorway. She was a large witch who towered above Umbridge, but she was always pleasant in a matter-of-fact sort of way. "I trust you've read my memo."

"Unbelievable." Umbridge was waving the paper in the air.

"It is definitely, serious," Hophirk nodded gravely. "We must send an owl to the boy's home."

"We should go immediately and destroy Potter's wand. We have no idea what he could do next," Umbridge raged.

"Excuse me Madam Umbridge, but don't you think we should wait on the Minister?" Percy questioned.

"The Minister is here." Fudge emerged from his office door. He was wearing a smoking jacket and carrying his pipe. "What's the word Weasley?"

"It's Harry Potter, sir. Improper use of Magic."

"Mafalda? What's our intelligence report?"

Hophirk handed the Minister a roll of parchment, which he unrolled and read while he paced the room.

"We've got him," Fudge rolled the parchment back up with glee. "It was only a matter of time. We're fortunate it happened so quickly. This will totally discredit the boy and we'll be able to keep him away from Dumbledore, break up their little mutual admiration society. Stop their power-mongering dead in its tracks. Mafalda, send an owl right away advising the boy that he is expelled from Hogwarts and that we will be there shortly to destroy his wand."

Hophirk nodded and apparated from the room.

"It's brilliant, Minister. You are a credit to the wizarding world." Umbridge cooed in her simpiest voice.

"Only with the help of my extremely dedicated and may I say, attractive, staff, Delores." Fudge winked.

Percy swallowed the bile rising in his throat, but Fudge continued.

"Weasley, we need a press release. Draft something up. Ministry sadened…offers Potter mental health services…safety of citizens primary concern…so forth and so on. Tell the Prophet I'll speak to reporters from my office tomorrow at 10:00."

"Excellent sir, I'll get right on it."

"Don't you think it would be wise to hear from Harry before you call the press, Cornelius." Professor Dumbledore had appeared quietly in the corner of the office. Percy was careful to hold completely still, but he gave an inner sigh of relief. This had all been too close.

"Dumbledore? What are you doing here? How did you…?" Fudge had turned bright red.

"The Ministry is not the only one with intelligence. I've been keeping a close watch on Harry." Dumbledore said calmly.

"Well, then you must agree that casting a Patronus tonight in front of muggle is…"

"I shall wait to hear Harry's explanation as I'm sure you will," Dumbledore smiled.

"What possible explanation could there be? The law is clear and he has broken it, not once but repeatedly," Fudge said stiffly.

"Is the famous Harry Potter above the law, Dumbledore? Are we going to have two sets of rules for our citizens? One set for those born to priviledge and another for the common wizard?" Umbridge smiled sweetly and Percy raised his eyebrows. He had to admit it, she was a sly creature.

"No, of course not. If Harry has broken the law he must be punished. But don't exclude his rights. The ministry does not have the power to confiscate wands unless charges have been successfully proven. I will defer to the position of the Wizengamont."

"Potter and trouble seem to go hand in hand, Dumbledore. You cannot believe the Ministry will allow him to continue at Hogwarts."

"The Ministry has no business in whether or not students continue at Hogwarts. Harry's discipline there is my determination," Dumbledore said coolly.

"We shall see about that," Fudge fumed. "So be it. Weasley, go and tell Mafalda Hophirk to set a date for a trial and notify the boy. He may keep his wand until then. I will personally, oversee his prosecution."

Dumbledore nodded slightly, "Thank you, Cornelius." And he turned quietly and walked out of the office.

Penelope stood in her tiny kitchen and tried, once again, to figure out how to make everything fit. She had designated one cabinet for potion ingrediants, one for potion storage, one for cauldrons, pots and scales, and one for actual food. That left no place for dishes, glasses, or table linens. There was simply not enough space and her counter overflowed with her carefully labeled jars that could not find a home. She was simply going to have to purchase a cupboard, that was all there was to it. Perhaps she could find one second hand and paint it. She just refused to give up space for her potions. Professor Snape had taught her well and now that she was starting at St. Mungo's she needed an extensive inventory.

It was almost midnight. She really should just stop and go to bed, but it irked her to leave the job unfinished. She had found her little flat through a healer at St. Mungo's. It sat above the garage on his estate. There was a similar space above the garage at Clearwater Manor, but they had always used it for storage. Here, she had a sitting room that opened into her kitchen, a small bath and a separate bedroom. Grandmother had allowed her to bring some pieces from home and she had shrunk her four-poster, a love seat, a cushioned chair, and a few small tables, bringing them to London in her purse. She had purchased a rug, and a lovely wizard pastoral of some cows grazing in a country meadow. When she brought the painting home, the cows had been off on a distant hill, their bells making soft clinking sounds, but she found on her first night that they could move to the front of the picture and become quite noisy. She managed to scare them back by jumping around in front of the frame and shouting 'shoo, shoo'. All the same, she felt quite good about her first decorating venture. It was warm and feminine and was much more to her taste than the gothic style of Hogwarts.

Still, even surrounded by things she loved, she sometimes felt lonely.

She was definitely, on her own now. No Ravenclaw girlfriends, no sweet Professor Flitwick, and no Percy. She sighed as she looked at her favorite photograph of the two of them together. Oliver had taken it during the Head Boy and Head Girl Party right before Percy had graduated. She had been so proud of him that night. It had been a splendid party. Granted, they both had a little too much to drink. Somehow, for just a minute, she had ended up riding around the room on Percy's back and Oliver (much to Percy's later embarrassment) had had a camera. Her photographic self leaned over Percy's shoulder and kissed his cheek , as he smiled, looking flushed and happy. The only problem was, whenever Percy in the photo caught anyone looking at the two of them, he promptly carried photographic Penelope behind the frame. "Come back, silly, it's just me," she said, stroking the picture with her finger.

Suddenly, a breeze caught her curtains and she heard a loud thump and a moan from her back yard. Her heart stopped and she felt a cold rush of fear. She was all alone. Her mind raced with safety precautions and she gripped her wand tightly in her right hand and reached slowly for a bottle of fire potion with her left. Moving as quietly as possible she crept toward the back door. Her hand was just reaching for the knob when Hermes flew through the open window.

Penelope didn't know whether to be relieved or not. "Hermes, you're back! Herm, I think someone is in my back yard."

The owl hooted and tapped her back door with its beak. Penelope grabbed her wand tightly and cracked open the door. Percy was sitting at the bottom of her back steps smiling sheepishly up at her.

"I think I sprained my ankle when I landed."

"You flew?"

"Yeah, I followed Hermes here."

Penelope rushed down the steps and pulled off Percy's shoe and sock as he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

"It's swelling but I can fix it. Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I'm OK."

"Lean on me and try not to put too much weight on it."

Penelope helped him maneuver up the steps but he stopped halfway.

"Wait – I forgot, before we go any further, you must ask me a question. Something only I know how to answer."

"Are you kidding?"

Percy grabbed Penelope's arm tightly and spoke to her intensely, "No, I'm serious. This is very important and you must get into the habit. Never, ever go with me or take me into your flat without making me answer. If I refuse or tease you or answer incorrectly, apparate away from me, immediately. Do you understand me, Penelope?"

"OK, OK, I understand."

Percy sat on the steps, "Ask me now."

"Um, alright," she muttered as she sat down beside him. "How much did I pay you for the infamous Ravenclaw-Gryffindor quidditch bet?"

Percy grinned, "Nothing. I lost my winnings on a second bet later that night."

Penelope smiled back, "Hello, Percy Weasley."

"Hello love. But Pen, you've got to do the same thing now. I've got to ask you a question."

"OK, shoot."

"Who's the chauffeur at Clearwater Manor?"

"Phillip, of course. Can we go inside, now and fix your ankle?"

"Yes, please."

Penelope pulled Percy into the sitting room then brought in a small cauldron of hot water into which she poured a bright blue powder.

"Soak in this," she instructed as she settled herself on the floor in front of him.

"Ah, so this is what you are learning at St. Mungo's?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Your mother could do this."

"Yes, but it wouldn't be as much fun."

"So, why are you here?"

"The truth?"

"Of course."

"I had a hard day and I missed you."

"Why did you have a hard day?"

"I can't really tell you."

Penelope sniffed and frowned, "I thought we didn't have secrets."

Percy looked down then looked back up sadly, "I can leave if you want."

"Don't be a prat. How's your ankle now?" She wrapped his foot in a fluffy towel before placing it on the floor.

"Excellent," Percy sighed as he removed his other shoe.

Penelope rose to take her cauldron back to the kitchen, "Do you like my flat?"

"I do. It's very, um, floral."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's good. I'm just not used to so many pretty things. My flat's pretty dull."

He wandered toward an open door and stopped in awe. Her four-poster stood covered with soft white pillows and a white goose down duvet. He felt her approach behind him and she slipped her arms around his waist.

"It's very comfortable, much better than park benches and blankets. Would you like to give it a try?"

Percy nodded slowly.

He moved silently to the bed and lay down flat on his back. She, likewise, lay flat on the other side and they both stared straight up at the ceiling for a full minute.

"Penelope, this is indeed, a very comfortable bed."

"Thank you. I'm so glad you approve."

"I think we should sleep in this bed."

"Well it can definately be used for that purpose."

Percy pulled off his glasses and reached across her to place them on the bedside table. She lay there beneath him, her dark hair spread across the white pillow as she looked up, smiling, with love and trust in her eyes.

"Can you think of any other purposes?"

"Maybe one or two," she whispered as he leaned down to kiss her and they pulled each other close. "I still can't believe you're really here. Do you feel like we are dreaming?"

There room was silent, no voices from his family, no ghosts of dead men, and no one in his mind and heart but her.

"No, my angel, believe me, this is better than dreaming."