Narcissa Malfoy had lost her sense of regal dignity. She looked at the empty desk where the Quill and Book had lain and her complexion turned pale. Her eyes darted around the empty room and she drew her wand.
"I know you're here. You cannot Apparate from this room. Where are you hiding, you filthy coward?" Her hand shook as she zapped aimlessly around the room, her spell sending red sparks bouncing off the stone walls. "Where is the Book and Quill? My husband needs them and he will be most unhappy if they are gone. Find them for me and perhaps he will spare your life." She paused and pushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, then ran her fingers across her lips. "Is it you, Sirius? Are you hiding under Potter's damn cloak again? Don't do this to me Sirius. I know you hate me, but really, what did you expect me to do? You and Bella - always so completely convinced you were right about everything. Well, you can forget that, cousin. Life is about compromise."
"Listen Sirius, you know me well enough to know I really don't care about politics. But Lucius is going to be the next Minister of Magic and he believes he needs that little quill. So give it back, Sirius, and I'll let you go. We'll pretend this never happened."
She stopped and waited expectantly. For a moment, the room was completely still. Then in a fit of anger she brandished her wand in a circle. "Dammit Sirius, I said show yourself!" Slowly the few items in the room began to rise in the air. The desk, the wastepaper basket, the rolls of parchment and quills all floated up, then came slamming back to the ground. From the wastepaper came a strange muffled sound. Narcissa bent down and pushed crumpled papers away to reveal a tawny owl and she pointed her wand at its throat. "You're not Sirius. Who in the world are you? Well don't think I'm transforming you. You'll have to deal with my husband and his friends. I guarantee you, you will wish it had been Narcissa you faced with they get a hold of you."
With a flick of her wand, Narcissa trapped the owl in a cage and bent down to turn a tiny gold key in the lock. The owl let out a threatened screech and thrashed against the bars as she picked up the cage. "Goodness such a fuss. You know you're rather cute. Perhaps I shouldn't tell Lucius about this. I could just clip your wings and keep you as a pet. Of course, you'd have to stay locked up forever." The owl let out a terrified screech. "No? You'd rather face my husband? Well, your choice, I guess." She sighed and carried the cage out the door, through the narrow passageway, and up into the wine cellar.
"Did you like my husband's pet, owl? Nasty creature, isn't he? He wasn't always this size, you know. Boys and their games. Fortunately, his brain didn't engorge with the rest of him. He's just as stupid as they come…Scat you nasty vermin…" She held the rat off with her wand as she passed, wound through the shelves and then jumped back up into the silver kitchen of Malfoy Manor.
"So owl, how did you know where to find the Quill in our house? I wonder, I wonder. Well, lucky you, you'll probably get to answer that question as soon as my husband returns."
She carried him up and out of the kitchen. He could see little around him, the house seemed large and dark. The rustle of her silk dressing gown was the only sound as they climbed flights of marble steps. Finally they entered an elegant room with a low burning fire. Long red velvet drapes fell on either side of the windows. Narcissa sat the cage on a delicate table and Percy could see that a huge portrait of her own likeness hung over the fire.
"Is he back?" she asked the portrait.
"No. His suite is still empty. What are you going to do?"
Narcissa looked in the mirror. She ran a finger over the small puffs under her eyes and smoothed her neck. "I'm going to bed." She waved at the door and the lock clicked. "He's safe. And no one's getting into that cage without this." She pulled a key from her pocket and placed it under her pillow then crossed to a small silver box on her dresser and returned to the cage with an owl treat. "Ah, proud are we? Don't turn up your beak at me, owl. You should enjoy that because life is short." She yawned and stretched across her bed. "Shorter for some than for others."
"Love, I'm telling you I've never heard of him," Madam Rosmerta loaded a tray with three steaming bowls of lamb stew, as Penelope leaned across the bar.
"But I know he was here. Norman Brown. He's a solicitor and he would have had an office here in Hogsmeade. It would have been about twelve years ago. Here, just look at him. Doesn't he look the slightest bit familiar?" Penelope held out a photograph she'd found in a Clearwater corporate directory.
"Hmm…He's nice looking isn't he? A real cutie." Madam Rosmerta handed back the directory.
"So you might remember him?" Penelope asked hopefully.
"Love, running this place is a huge job. I'm not turning my head at every pretty boy who walks through the door. Do you honestly think I'd remember a customer from twelve years ago?"
"No, Ma'am," Penelope sighed. "I guess I'm just grasping at straws."
Madam Rosmerta smiled, poured a frothy cup of hot chocolate, and pushed it toward Penelope. "Drink up," she said as she levitated the crowded tray and followed it toward the back of the pub.
Penelope sighed and quietly sipped the hot chocolate not noticing that someone had risen from a nearby booth and slid onto the stool next to her.
"Know him," a reedy voice said.
Penelope looked over and then down. Long crooked fingers held a shot of fire whiskey. A pimple-nosed, pointy-eared goblin was sitting next to her, his chin barely reaching over the top of the bar.
"You know him?" Penelope repeated in a shocked whisper.
The goblin reached over and pointed a deadly fingernail at the picture. "Him. Yes."
Penelope exhaled slowly. She found all goblins highly distasteful. They were rather dirty creatures and this particular one looked especially knarly and reeked of fire whiskey. Still, he was the only one who was offering her a clue. "Do you mind if I ask your name?"
"Klawvik."
"Klawvik, I'm Penelope. How did you know Norman Brown?"
"Gringotts. Work there. Saw him," the goblin said dully.
Penelope took another sip of her hot chocolate. Getting information out of a goblin was about like milking a toad.
"What does Norman Brown do at Gringotts, Klawvik?"
"Makes Deposit. Every Week. Very large."
"And the last time you saw him in Gringotts was?"
"Friday."
Penelope's heart raced. It was almost all the confirmation she needed. Norman Brown was entering the magical world every week. With a rather sick feeling in her stomach she wondered why this drunk goblin was offering to tell her this. Goblins were usually terribly standoffish with wizards.
"Klawvik, is there some reason you remember him so well?" Penelope looked down at her mug, afraid to hear the answer.
The goblin growled barring dirty pointed teeth and then spat on the bar. "It's Muggle money," he said.
Penelope drank down the last of the hot chocolate in one giant gulp. "Thank you, you've been most helpful," she said quickly. The goblin didn't respond and she pulled her cloak around her and pushed through the crowded pub toward the door.
"Penelope! Wait! Penelope Clearwater!"
She was so distracted she almost didn't respond to the call, but then turned, confused, to see Fred and George starring up at her from a nearby booth.
"What…what are you doing here?" Fred asked eyeing her with surprised interest.
It was shocking how the twins could look so much like Percy and yet so completely opposite at the same time. Where Percy seemed to be all angles, the twins were apple cheeked circles. But the hair was the same, the lips were the same, and sometimes she thought perhaps the eyes were the same.
Penelope cleared her throat. "I…I think I should be asking you that question, Fred Weasley." She checked her watch. "It is past curfew at Hogwarts, even on a Saturday night. You should both be in your dorm room right now."
"Once a prefect, always a prefect, huh, Penelope?" George said dryly.
She tossed her head. "Something like that."
Fred gripped the handle of his mug of ale. "So tell us, fair Lady Clearwater, run into Sir Head-Up-His-Arse lately?"
"You're not funny, Fred," she said tightly.
"I'm not laughing."
Penelope felt her whole face turn red and her mind went blank. A lie, a comeback…where was it? She looked desperately toward the door. She had to get out. "Yes…well…charming as always. Sorry to run but I have more important things to worry about."
"Oh by all means then…" said Fred with mock sincerity.
"Pray, we don't detain you," George added pompously as she started away.
"However," Fred's voice stopped her in her tracks, "should you run into anyone related to our mother, you might want to suggest he send her an owl."
"I don't know about that, brother dear," George interrupted. "The last owl from that person was a real doozy. Returned jumper, no note, regular old Father Christmas our brother Percy."
Penelope felt the rage biting at her and she crossed back and leaned over their booth. "Hold on Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber," she hissed. "You two don't know what the hell you're talking about."
The twins froze in silence and then looked at each other. "Please then Penelope," George said desperately, "why don't you enlighten us?"
Penelope started backing away. "No…no…I've got to go…I'm…I'm…" she bumped into a plump wizard crossing behind her and caused him to spill his butterbeer. "Sorry…sorry…" She turned and fled into the street.
Percy watched the fire burn down to glowing embers. The portrait of Narcissa had closed heavy black lashes and the real Narcissa had reclined on her satin bed. The clock on the mantel said two in the morning. This was it . The worst case scenario. He had always known it might happen and he knew what he would have to do. He'd thought it through. They would take his wand. They'd pour Veritaserum down his throat and then they'd kill him. Then they'd go straight to Grimmauld Place and they'd kill everyone there. The thought of it was sickening. There was only one answer. He'd have to beat them to the punch.
All Order members knew the spell, knew that there were some things worth dying for. Even Penelope knew it - a thought which he had ignored and continually pushed to the back of his brain. Turn your wand on yourself and repeat the words 'Aquae Phoenix'.
Perhaps it wouldn't be all that bad. They had said it would be painless. It would be alright, he told himself. The world would keep spinning without Percy Weasley. Spring would come without Percy Weasley. The Quill would suck up his name and spit out a new one, some other child born to see sky, smell grass, and touch skin. His mother would cry, but one day she would laugh again. Ron would grow strong and Ginny would grow beautiful and Penelope would…she would…
She would just live…
He knew she could do it. She would live for his sake.
It's only a little time, a little space that separates us, my love.
He found his most private memory of her smile and locked it in his heart.
It would be enough.
Penelope ran down the dark street and turned the corner toward the Hogshead. Bending over, she caught her knees and cursed. Norman Brown, the man her grandmother had trusted as executor of her estate was stealing from her, Percy's brothers hated him, and she'd almost just let information about the Order slip. What else could go wrong?
A long mournful screech cut through the darkness and Hermes dove toward her. He came close to landing on her head and his talons grabbed at her hair as he flapped back toward the sky.
"Ouch! You crazy bird! What are you doing? Hermes?"
He circled back again landing on her arm and flapping his wings several times before taking off.
"Come back, Hermes! Where's Percy? What's wrong?"
This time when the owl lighted Penelope grabbed him tightly so he couldn't take off. "Hermes, is Percy in danger?"
The owl hooted and at that moment a fiery phoenix feather dropped from the sky. Penelope grabbed the attached note and read it quickly. Still clutching Hermes against her chest she ran toward the Hogshead and pushed open the oak door. She almost fell into the dirty old pub and every eye turned on her. She made her way toward the bar. The bartender didn't even look at her.
"Excuse me. Excuse me," she whispered, "but I need to use your Floo. It's urgent."
The bartender looked her over once and then went back to folding the stained napkins piled before him. "Back there," he tipped his head. "Kitchen."
Penelope nodded, pushed through the swinging double door behind the bar, and hurried into the gray dingy kitchen. She barely noticed the sleeping animal with curly Q horns beside the hearth, but quickly fumbled on the mantle for some Floo powder.
"Hold on tight, Hermes," she said as she stepped into the green flames. "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place."
Several hours later Narcissa rose and the fire leaped to a lively dance. She sat for a while at her dresser, combing through her long blonde hair. Then she twisted it up into a knot, and donned a pale blue satin robe. "I'll be back, owl," she said as she left, closing the door to her suite with a snap.
His heart was pounding. She was sure to return with Malfoy at any moment. He lifted a sharp talon. Was there a way to pick at the lock? It was awkward, and he had to catch his balance with his wings as he started to tip over. There was a dull thud outside in the hall. He tried to pry at the door with his beak. It rattled and moved slightly, but it was locked fast.
The door swung back open and Narcissa hurried back into the room, a gray hooded cloak now covering her robes. She grabbed his cage and started for the door.
"Don't forget the key," the portrait called.
Narcissa seemed frantic. "The key. There's a key. Where is the key?"
"It's still under the pillow," the portrait instructed.
"Oh yes, yes, of course. I'm just flustered," she said grabbing the key and slipping it into her pocket.
"Don't forget who you are, Narcissa. Lucius Malfoy would be nothing without the Blacks," the protrait called.
She grabbed the cage and headed out into the hall and down the steps. It was clear that Malfoy Manor was just coming to life. The dull grey light of dawn was trickling through open curtains. The Malfoy family portraits were waking and they called to Narcissa as she hurried down the steps.
"Good morning, Madam. Up early Madam?"
"Yes, good morning. Good morning all," she said nodding pointedly to the portraits. She did not slow but headed straight for the front door. Pulling the hood over her head she started out into the morning fog.
Percy could see nothing but a gray mist. He had a suspicion she was following someone or something. He listened carefully and he was sure of it, a rustle of grass ahead. He strained and caught a glimpse of a dark figure. Of course, Malfoy would not murder him in his own house. He was leading her away from the mansion. He wondered how many Death Eaters would be waiting for him.
Her gray cloak almost disappeared into the morning fog. She was climbing a hill and he could hear her breathing had become heavy. She cast a quick look backwards. "Almost there," she whispered.
He wasn't sure whether she was speaking to him or to herself. The sun was beginning to rise a blood red and ahead of him rose the majestic temple. Stonehenge.
Narcissa entered the circle of the temple and drew her wand. "Protego," she cried and a hundred columns of light rose toward the sky. He knew now he was trapped inside the temple. She kneeled, brought forth the key and opened the door of the cage. He hesitated, huddled at the back. The Death Eaters would appear around the temple as soon as he transformed. He had to reach for his wand quickly before they could disarm him, but not before he told Malfoy what he thought of him. Go ahead, he thought. Just get it over with.
With a blinding flash he transformed. One last time to feel the beauty of being human. He had his wand ready and he pointed it at Narcissa's temple. "Have the courage to show yourself before you kill me Malfoy!"
The dark figure stepped forward. "Nobody's killing anybody, Percy.
It was Sirius.
"Sirius…Is this a trick? I don't understand?"
Sirius was grinning, "No trick. Look where your wand's pointed, boy, then maybe you will."
Percy looked at Narcissa and saw that her sleek blond knot was turning black and little curls were springing out in odd places. Her perfect nose seemed to be growing into something less than perfect and her violet eyes were changing to a sparkling aqua blue. The face he loved was smiling at him.
"I save your skin and this is the thanks I get?" Penelope raised an eyebrow and nodded at his wand.
"Better do better than that little brother." Bill emerged from the fog in the same silver grey cloak, beaming at him. Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared with a bright smile across his face and Percy saw that Hermes was sitting on his shoulder.
"I can't believe you're all here," he stammered. "I thought…well, I really thought that…"
"None of that today, Percy," Professor Lupin lowered the silver hood. "You didn't think we'd leave you in there did you?"
"But how did you know?"
"Well, when you got the Quill back to Hogwarts but didn't come home yourself that was a big clue," Bill said. "Plus you've got a faithful friend in that owl. He'd been watching your back." Bill looked serious for a moment. "You were damn lucky, Percy, that Malfoy wasn't home."
"Yes," Lupin nodded, "We've tried to keep a close eye on him."
"It was this young lady who came up with the real plan, though." Kingsley nodded admiringly at Penelope. "Little did we know she had a potion cupboard that would rival Professor Snape's."
Penelope grinned. "I've kept a stock of Polyjuice for months. It came in handy for sneaking past the portraits. They're the real alarm system, you know. But I couldn't have done it without Sirius. He knew the house."
Sirius shrugged. "Unfortunately, I've been in there quite a few times."
Penelope continued quickly. "We took a gamble and guessed that Malfoy would be careless with some of the tower windows. I flew up and climbed inside. After that, it was easy to Apparate close to you. I hid in a closet just outside the door and fortunately, I didn't have to wait long until she came out. Then I...uh…"
"What did you do to her, Pen?" Percy asked amazed.
"Well, I did the full body bind on her, grabbed a hair and then I - " Penelope blushed, "I transfigured her into a broom."
The Order members broke into laughter. "Oh what I would have paid to witness…" Sirius chortled.
"Serves her right," Penelope sniffed.
Percy gaped at her. "What if Malfoy had come home? What if a portrait had seen you? What if Narcissa had put up a fight?"
"Well then we would have broken in and fought to get you out," Bill said.
"I must say this way was much more fun," Sirius grinned at Penelope.
"And actually more expedient too," Lupin added. "It may be hours before Malfoy realizes what's happened."
Sirius growled darkly. "Yes, and don't kid yourself. I doubt he'll find out from my lovely cousin. Narcissa runs by the rules of cover your own ass. It won't be in her best interest to tell the truth so she'll draw a convenient memory blank."
"I don't know what to say," Percy looked around. "Thank you, thank you all." The sun had risen and the fog was beginning to fade. He felt as if a cool rain had washed over a firestorm.
"Well I'd say this mission has been accomplished," Lupin said briskly. "Let's all go home."
Sirius stretched and cracked his knuckles. "Oh no, Remus, the fun's just getting started. I think I'm going to go down there and see if I can sweep a few floors with Narcissa, before I…"
"NO SIRIUS!" they all chorused at once.
"Okay, Okay." Sirius rolled his eyes and then took Penelope's hand and gave a stiff and rather formal nod. "My lady, you are devilishly clever. And you, Fudge boy, well you know what we all think of you." He winked and a smile spread across his face as his body dissolved into the morning mist.
The members of the Order were disappearing one by one, until only Bill remained. "Are you two going to be okay? I think you'll be safe at Penny's for today. You're well protected there."
"Do you think Malfoy's home yet, Bill?" Percy asked. Malfoy Manor looked as still and quiet as ever on the grassy plain.
"If he's not, he will be soon. Keep your ear to the ground Perce. We'll need to know if his plan for this school for Muggle-borns stays on track. As long as Dumbledore is at Hogwarts, I think we'll be able to keep him in check."
Percy nodded then wrapped his arms around Penelope. "You saved me."
"What did you expect?" she smiled.
"That was very dangerous. You could have been hurt, Pen."
"Oh you Gryffindors are all the same," she sighed. "You think you are the only ones who can ever be brave. Come on then, let's go home. I'm suddenly starving."
"Spoken like a Weasley," Percy grinned.
Penelope laughed as he lifted her feet off the ground, "Now, now, let's not get carried away."
Peter Pettigrew appeared in the study of Malfoy Manor and poured himself a glass fire whiskey. He quickly downed it and shuddered, then poured himself a second.
"Help yourself to my whiskey, Pettigrew." Malfoy had slipped into the room. Peter didn't flinch.
"I think I will, Lucius." Peter had become plumper over the past few months and his shabby brown waistcoat was pulled tight. He reached into it and pulled out an antique pocket watch. "I don't have much time for you, Lucius. The Dark Lord has important work for me. Let's get this over quickly. I understand you've hit a bit of a glitch in the pure-blood campaign."
"It's a minor setback." Malfoy pointed his walking stick at the fireplace and a fresh log fell from nowhere causing sparks to shoot from the hearth. "We lost an important tool for now, but I have every intention of getting it back. Sooner than later, I would say. Dumbledore's days at Hogwarts are numbered."
"Well, that could be. But I wouldn't underestimate Albus Dumbledore if I were you," Peter said coolly. "Funny, I thought you had the thing well guarded, Lucius. Any ideas how someone broke into your home and took it? Have you questioned…hmm…your wife, maybe?"
"My wife knows nothing about it."
"Really?"
"What are you insinuating about my wife, Pettigrew?"
Peter shrugged and walked over to the fire and tapped the crystal glass against his silver hand until it broke. "Oops, sorry about that," he grinned. "No matter, it doesn't bleed you see. What do you need me for, Malfoy."
"You know what I want you for," Malfoy hissed. "I want the Muggle money. You've been putting me off for months. But the time for recruitment is coming and we need that money to attract new Death Eaters. Our success depends on numbers and you know as well as I do that we don't have what we did last time…"
"Calm down, Lucius. You've obviously had a bad day." Peter opened an ivory box on the table and pulled out a cigar. He held it to his nose and took short repeated sniffs. "May I?" he asked as he pulled out his wand to light it.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Help yourself."
"Do you know where I've been the past several months, Lucius?"
"I don't really care, where you've been, Peter."
"I've been spying in the pubs and back alleys of Magical London. One particular place has really caught my fancy. A little place called The Owl's Nest: cozy storage cellar; excellent rubbish bins; and most importantly," he chuckled, "educational entertainment." Peter took a deep draw on the cigar and blew the smoke out in a curving tail-like strand. "My time there has been well spent. You see, Lucius, planning is necessary if you want to do things properly. Of course, experience has shown us that you don't know about pulling things off properly."
"You twisted pathetic little rat. How dare you…"
"Now, now, now, Lucius," Peter held up the silver hand to stop the tirade. "You do want your fortune, right? Well, I have the perfect case. One vulnerable little heiress, whose weaknesses we can exploit, a huge Muggle fortune, and a way to hurt Arthur Weasley. It's very clean little package, Lucius."
Malfoy's jaw dropped. "Who, what are you talking about?"
Peter turned from the fire with an evil grin. "Does the name Clearwater ring any bells?"