Groggily, Harry sat up in bed. Ron was still fast asleep just a few feet away in an identical four poster. The wizard turned to look the other way; Percy's bed was untouched.

The bed hadn't been slept in in at least the past twenty-four hours, that much was clear. The same exact books, in their same exact positions, were strewn across the blankets. The trunk was closed and locked, the bed was made—nothing had changed from yesterday.

Harry wondered about Percy and his whereabouts, and even further than that, he worried. The day before, the other boy had brought Katie to the infirmary, as well as helping convince others to help her. Madam Pomfrey came out, McGonagall and Hermione went in. People were talking, it was a bit chaotic.

After a matter of minutes, McGonagall had called Percy's name to find that he was nowhere to be seen. They had had to ignore that fact, for the task at hand was more important than wasting time finding him.

Later however, once Katie had been sent to St. Mungo's, McGonagall had gone looking for the Gryffindor in question. He hadn't been found. Harry now knew he had never even come back to the dorms.

Sighing, Harry heaved himself from the comfort of his covers. He'd long since finished getting ready when he heard the tell-tale groan of his best friend awakening. Ron, however, rolled over, and it seemed as if he were about to fall asleep again. Harry elected to shake him properly awake, he'd waited long enough.

"Bloody hell," Ron slurred, hardly awake, "it's Sunday mate. You know that, right?"

"It's Sunday, but it's also eleven. I've been up for an hour—get your lazy ass outta bed. I want breakfast." As he'd hoped, Ron had indeed been incented by the mention of food. Only ten minutes later, they had met up with Hermione in the common room.

"Could you two've taken any longer?" Hermione sounded annoyed, yet resigned. She hadn't even looked up from her book.

"Yeah, actually. If you want a demonstration, I can go back to the dorms. I'll just climb back in bed, fall asleep—you can time how long it takes for me to get back down here if you'd like."

Hermione stood up and Ron received a whack on the head with a rather thick book. He groaned.

"Geez Hermione…. Gah, I'm hungry, can we go get breakfast?"

"By Merlin's beard, when aren't you hungry?"

"Guys c'mon," Harry sighed, "it's Sunday, can't we just be happy? And for sanity's sake, will you stop poking at each other?"

:-:-:-:

The walk to the Quidditch pitch was rather quiet. Hermione had gone back to the common room after breakfast while Ron and Harry had taken off for practice. Now, they trekked through the dewy grass side by side, each too caught up in their own thoughts to talk.

Practice without Katie was going to be a reality check that neither of them wanted. There was a chance she wasn't coming back from that hospital. And even more concerning, Harry was convinced this was somehow caused by something to do with Voldemort.

He was alive again; no longer trying to stay under the radar. Maybe this wasn't the way it was meant to play out, maybe that parcel was meant for Harry himself—had he unwrapped the necklace in his bare hands and touched it fully, he knew he'd be dead right now.

Harry knew, he knew it deep down in his gut: this year was bound to be one of the most dangerous ones yet.

Mind elsewhere, Harry pulled on his Quidditch robes. Ron did the same. Walking out of the locker room, Harry found Dean waiting for him.

"Dean?"

"Katie's, uh, while, well she's—I was hoping I could fill in as chaser for a bit while Katie recovers. I was one of the stand-in picks on the announcement paper you put up at the start of term—or at least I'm pretty sure."

Harry tried to recall back to when he'd held tryouts; there was no outstanding memory of Dean. That most likely meant he hadn't done crazy well, nor had he done terribly. Yet, he was too tired to look further into it.

"Thanks Dean, that'd be great. I didn't know who I was going to pick and I definitely don't have the energy to hold tryouts for the role. Why don't you join in practice today; you can keep the position until Katie is back and able to play."

"Thanks mate, I'm glad to help," Dean grinned.

Although Harry was unsure of how well Dean played, he was immensely glad to have someone already come asking for the spot. He'd meant what he'd said, there was no way he was going to hold another tryout.

:-:-:-:

Quidditch practice had been… it had been draining to say the least. The pressure of being team captain was there, and he couldn't help feeling he was definitely in the blame for bringing Dean onto the team.

So far, his decision had not shaken out to be a good one. The rhythm the team had fallen into over the time they'd previously practiced had been thoroughly disrupted by the entrance of a new player. None of them knew how Dean played, and he didn't know how they played.

Harry wasn't quite as affected, for all he had to do was search for the snitch—but the others however—they all had to work together. The others knew cues Dean didn't, slight moves of their hand, or darts of the eyes. Katie knew these, she'd been there for years. None of these were things you could read in some Quidditch tips and tricks book.

The team had worked together, and they'd found a way to read each other. Dean's inability to do so truly showed how big a loss Katie had been. Dean was a skilled player, but he just wasn't Katie, and it showed.

He felt bad, but he sorely wished Katie would just come back. Guilt coursed through him, never more than now had he wished Katie to be back. Not for her well-being, for her safety—no, so she could play goddamned Quidditch.

Disgruntled, Harry tramped into the Great Hall, Ron by his side. He was grumbling about the practice, but Harry tried not to listen—it only brought him down. The two of them dropped on the bench directly in front of Hermione, and Ron immediately started shoveling food onto his plate.

"How'd it go?" Hermione asked, even though Harry could tell she already had a guess as to how it'd gone, judging by her tone of voice.

"Perfectly peachy," Ron responded, his voice dry and tinged with a hint of annoyance.

"It wasn't the best. Dean's filling in for Katie, and well—it's not exactly the same," Harry amended. "Any news on Katie?"

"No, sadly. Percy either, the bloke has all but disappeared into thin air."

"How has even Dumbledore not found him?"

"Well, maybe he hasn't tried looking. Maybe it isn't worth investigating him."

"That's insane, why wouldn't he even look?"

"I dunno," Ron butted in, "it's the weekend, maybe it doesn't matter until school starts."

"Ron!" Hermione burst. "Why would they not care just because class isn't in session? Dumbledore isn't just going to disregard-"

"He's gotta be around here somewhere, as long as he shows up to class tomorrow they probably won't see a problem."

"Why would-"

"He has a point, Hermione, honestly they probably couldn't care less. It's not as if he's breaking the rules, they never found him out of bed last night. McGonagall certainly never checked if he was in his."

"Fine, so-"

"Hey Harry, what d'you think about a game of Wizard's Chess back in the common room?"

"You two are—you know what, you go play chess, I'm going to stay down here."

After a few last bites, Ron stood up and left for the common room. Harry smiled apologetically at Hermione, then left to follow Ron. He heard her scoffing as they left.

:-:-:-:

The two had almost made it to their destination, Harry walking through the doors previously pushed open by Ron. Said friend was a few steps ahead, although Harry stopped dead in his tracks as Ron's voice cut through the air.

"Ginny?" there was disbelief and disgust laced into his now slightly shrill voice.

"Ron," Ginny's voice came. It was a stark contrast: calmer, though it held disgust as well, with disdain glaring through.

Harry stood rooted to the spot, the Weasleys always got along. Well, maybe that wasn't fully true. The twins were always playing pranks and typically could be trusted to have at least one family member somewhat pissed at them at all times. Percy Weasley was a notable outlier as well, he was so different from his siblings that Harry didn't know if he even really was a Weasley.

Yet, here in front of him, Ron and Ginny were screaming at each other. It almost seemed, with how quickly the heat had risen, they were in the middle of an old argument, now resumed.

"Why are you snogging Dean! He's a year older and—and you're right in the middle of a corridor that's-"

"A corridor that was empty before you barged in! And why does it matter who I'm snogging? It's none of your damn business. Yeah, he's a year older, that doesn't mean anything."

"Like hell it isn't my business, you're my little sister. I-"

"You have no right to dictate what I do, leave me alone."

"You know what, never mind. Just because Dean can use Katie getting hurt to squirm his way onto a team he doesn't belong on, and just to get you to snog his—"

"Ron," Harry broke in, before he could say anything worse. "I think we should get to the common room." He tried to keep his voice and face calm. He shot an apologetic look at Ginny and Dean, who they left behind as he ushered Ron out of the corridor. He reminded himself to stay away from that shortcut for a while.

Harry tried to ignore the feeling in his gut. He didn't really know what it was, the feeling like there were butterflies in his stomach. They hurt, though—along with the butterflies it felt like there was some monster in there, snapping at them and scratching at his insides.

He tried his best to not think about it. He told himself it was because of what Ron had said. She was snogging Dean, and it was odd to think about. And it seemed as if it were only because he was on the team now. Dean didn't even really deserve to be on the team at all.

But his brain told it was because she was snogging Dean. He pushed it aside.

Once inside the common room, Ron stormed up to their dorms. And not wanting to possibly get caught up in one of Ron's rants, he simply collapsed into one of the plush chairs closest to the fireplace.

He stared into the ever present fire, and after some time, the embers began to take shape. Slowly, they formed his godfather's face. Harry blinked away the vision and he was gone, never again would Harry see his face pop into the fire.

Turning away, Harry blinked again, hoping to stem any tears before they dared slide down his face. Sighing, Harry turned towards the table in the corner. His homework was still strewn where he'd left it the last night—too exhausted to bring it up to his dorm. He trudged over and sat down. Homework was no pleasure to get through, but anything was better than being left alone with his thoughts sometimes.

:-:-:-:

Hazy, and heavily disoriented, Percy blinked his eyes open. Briefly, panic seized his brain and served to momentarily stiffen his limbs. Both of his ankles were tied with a slimy yet strong sort of rope. His hands floated freely; there didn't seem to be gravity.

He lifted his upper half, attempting to mock a sitting position as he floated. He quickly found the 'rope' tied to his feat was kelp. The failsafe, he now remembered, he'd tied last night. Just in case he lost the small focus he'd needed to stay at the bottom lake. It would cause a problem, he'd thought, if he'd been found in a dead-man's float on the lake's surface.

The previous day's events were somewhat of a blur in his mind. The lack of sleep the night before, the adrenaline, stress, and anxiousness coursing through him the previous day had muddled its proceedings some.

He could recall, however, that he had most likely been looked for at some point. He'd used the disillusionment charm to hide in the Hospital Wing when he deemed that girl safe. Making sure no one would bother him, but at the same time making sure the girl would get proper treatment. She was later taken to an actual hospital and out of his sight.

When he could do no more, he'd fled to the lake. That lullaby had taken so much out of him. Yet, for hours he'd been in restless fits. The screams replaying in his mind, they invited an onslaught of memories and sounds. His PTSD did not like the sound of screaming.

Eventually, he'd fallen asleep. Now, he blinked up at the sunlight that fluttered down through the water. It was beautiful. He tried to fill his mind with that thought, and emptied it from the rest. He untied his ankles on autopilot, not giving the action a second thought.

Once he'd freed himself, the demigod took his wand out and cast his favorite charm. He now could only see flashes of out-of-place movement, rather than limbs as he swam. It wasn't as if he was invisible, gods, he wished there was a spell for that, but it was close enough.

The water around him became lighter with every kick. It hardly took any time before Percy was hauling himself onto the shores of the Black Lake. For once it seemed he'd actually gotten more than a few hours of sleep—if the sun was anything to go by, it was sometime a bit after noon.

There were some people out, but not many. They were at least far enough that with the charm in place he didn't think he'd be noticed. The demigod was about to go for the castle when he spotted Hagrid outside his cabin. He was sitting on the steps and seemed rather worn down and even a bit torn up. Going behind a tree, Percy released the spell and started out towards the hut.

"Hey Hagrid, you alright? I know some basic first aid and I could patch you up a bit if you wanted me to."

The man's eyes landed on the student and he started as he recognized him, "There yeh are!"

"Yeah… I'm here—you're bleeding, are you sure you don't want me to help you with that?"

"Yeh were missin' yesterday—where were yeh? An' why'd yeh come 'ere o' all places?"

"Well I was on the grounds, and just now I was walking around and I saw you over here."

Hagrid grunted and stood up, "Yer welcome in if yeh wanna come in."

Percy followed him into his house and found he liked the place. It was cozy and warm, a fire burning beneath a cauldron which hung over it. The ceiling was covered in pots and pans of all sizes and shapes, there was all sorts of gear hanging from hooks along with an array of weapons—of which he guessed were used for hunting and protection out in the forest.

There was a large bed in one of the corners of the room, and a large round table sat somewhat in the center surrounded by chairs. There was a couch and one chair, both plush, sitting beside the fire.

"You get to live here?"

"I know, it's one room I get it but—wait what?"

"It's so warm and cozy and personal, it's lovely. I'd take this any—woah!"

Percy was cut off by a large dog tackling him to the ground. He rolled over out from under the pup, grinning, he scratched The Spot™ behind the dog's ears and then moved his hand to its stomach.

"He likes yeh, 'is name's Fang by the way."

"Who's a good boy Fang? Yeah, it's you, you're the good boy. Oh he's just the cutest."

In response, Fang barked (loudly). Hagrid just stared for a bit. "Yeh know, most people are kinda scared of him."

"Who? This sweet boy?"

"In't 'e just adorable, I think you're the only person who agrees with me there. An' he's just as much a coward whatever people may think he looks like," Hagrid ended with a laugh, Percy even joined in. Thinking back, the demigod couldn't remember that last time he'd laughed.

"Well, coward or not, he's a very sweet dog."

"Why don't you come an' sit down—I'll put the kettle on."

"If you're just doing that for me, there's really no need, thanks though. But, ah, how'd you get all torn up?"

"Oh, well, I went in the forest ter check up on the newest herd of thestrals I saw just a few days ago. I was walkin' around and then the centaurs spotted me and ya' see, they don' take kindly to people comin' in ter their forest and normally I can keep 'em at bay but—well not today apparently."

"There are centaurs in there?"

"There's all kinds of magical animals in there."

"I wonder why they've never bothered me…" he wondered aloud under his breath.

"What was tha'?"

"Oh, um nothing—seriously though, wounds that big are highly susceptible to infection. I can bandage them for you."

"Alrigh', but you've gotta stay around and eat something."

"Deal."

:-:-:-:

Two hours later, with a smile on his face and Fang whining as the door closed, Percy was turned towards the castle again. His first stop was the Hospital Wing to grab what he'd left there yesterday.

Poking his head in, there only seemed to be one person on a bed. Amazingly, they even seemed to be asleep. The demigod crept across the room, careful not to make a sound or disturbance, and grabbed his bag.

Glancing in to check everything was still there, he discovered that there was still an unopened box of chocolates. He walked over to the sleeping person's bed and gently set the box on the nightstand. Hopefully they wouldn't be confiscated by the nurse.

Lost in thought, it seemed to hardly take any time at all before he was standing before the familiar painting of a fruit bowl. A reach of his hand, twitch of his finger, and Percy was walking into the kitchen.

The painting swung closed behind him and instantly he had a few elves rushing up towards him. They had small platters of food to offer, and at first he felt it rude to take them. Quickly, he found out they were rather happy to see him eat their foods rather than decline them.

It still went against his nature; he felt like a prick, almost like, well, like the gods—this is how they expected to be treated. However, it did seem to make them happier so, for now, he'd accept. The demigod had tried to give them things as thanks, but they never accepted; they did at least allow him to help clean. Right now, however, he was quite hungry and immensely thankful for the food.

Dobby was nearer to the back, standing at a sink and watching as dishes cleaned themselves—also most likely controlling the process. Percy took his wand out for the show, but used his water powers to clean the dishes in the sink adjacent to Dobby's.

"I got you some stuff in Hogsmeade, although you'll have to try them on for size."

"You is too kind sir, you needn't get Dobby anything."

"Oh, but I wanted to, you see, and you know you guys never have to make me anything, right?"

"I knows sir, but it is our pleasure. We thank yous very much for coming so often, we love the company, Dobby especially."

They finished the rest of the dishes in a comfortable silence. That is, at least, between the two friends. The other elves, of course, were talking and cooking and cleaning—generally being rather loud.

Once the pair had finished, and there were no more sinks piling with dishes, they sat down near the fire. "So, I brought a bag of what I got. I know you may not love everything but, well, I thought I may as well pick up what reminded me of you."

Percy lifted the bag up and brought out the outfit he'd pieced together. The shirt was colorful, stripes of all hues patterned the cloth; the shorts however were plain and grey. Although both were in their smallest sizes, neither would fit Dobby; that, he's known.

"Dobby loves it sir, I doesn't know how to thank you."

"Ah, come on, try them on, then I can shrink 'em to make them fit."

He didn't know exactly what the elf's favorite was, but he figured a pair of socks, a shirt, and some shorts as well as proper shoes might be favorable to him. It was a kind of thank you to him for constantly having some food for Percy when he most needed it.

When Dobby slipped the shirt on, it engulfed him almost completely. It looked more like an odd looking and ill-fitting dress rather than a shirt.

The demigod had practiced the spell for a while, specifically for this purpose—but there was no telling if it would work.

Annoyingly enough, it took five tries, but he did shrink the shirt to the proper size eventually. Dobby's large green eyes seemed to brighten as he inspected the shirt that fit him perfectly.

Percy smiled at him and repeated the same steps for the other articles of clothing, and as he went, he got a bit better.

By the time he had gotten the shoes out, he could manage the spell perfectly, first try. Dobby was grinning ear to ear, proper fitting shoes, socks, shorts, and shirt adorning his small form.

"Thank yous so much sir, how can I ever repay you?"

"You really don't have to, this is a gift for all you've done for me. So, um, where's Winky?"

"Oh, Winky is not here sir, Winky got very drunk, I had to take her somewhere else. Oh, Winky, she was crying. Would you like to go see her?"

"Sure, I do wish she'd let go and cheer up. She, oh she'll have to at some point right?"

"Dobby hopes so sir, but I doesn't know. Come, come, she is on the seventh floor."

:-:-:-:

They'd trekked up multiple flights of stairs and passed many different statues and paintings before they arrived in front of a tapestry and Dobby stopped. Confused, Percy watched as Dobby paced in front of the rather odd artwork.

The hanging fabric seemed to depict trolls attending the ballet. However, before he had a chance to think about that for too long, the tapestry melded into the wall as it morphed into a door of stone and swung open.

The elf walked right in, and in a slight stupor, Percy followed. Inside was a house-elf sized bed, a bedside table, and Winky laying in the bed itself. The set up was near a hearth, inside of which a fire was burning. All in all, it was warm, plain, but almost homey.

"Where are we?"

"This is the Perfect Room, I takes Winky here when she is very drunk; helps her get better."

"How—how did you find this place?

"Oh, Dobby was wandering around you sees, cleaning and such. I has a tendency to pace as well, and oh, that night Winky was not doing good at all. Dobby looks at those trolls outside and laughed, and then got carried away staring and started to pace. I need a place for Winky when she is not good, that is what he thought.

"Suddenly, the wall just opens up and here's a perfect room. Dobby comes here often now, it is a perfect place for anything. Three times, I found, you walk three times in front of 5th trolls and think of what you need. The door will open and there it is."

Beside them, Winky snored as he took the information in—this could be everything. "If it's anything you need it to be, how do you and Winky both get in?"

"Oh yes, the room is what you asks it to be, but she comes with me through the door and it's all for her. To get back all Dobby has to think is the same thoughts. You sees though, if I thought different thoughts, even just about finding her, Dobby couldn't get to her. It happened once—I stayed by the door until she came out—I couldn't remember the right words."

"I—oh, Winky, how are you feeling?"

"Sir? What is you doing here?" as soon as the house-elf had said that she gasped. "I is being so rude," she began to sob, "Winky is so very sorry, I is sorry, sorry."

Percy couldn't watch her cry any longer, he's stood by too many times, not knowing what to do. The thing was he did know what to do—maybe. The demigod had helped many kids while he was at camp, they seemed to like him.

The younger kids and new arrivals, they trusted him. Many were abused and from bad situations. Winky wasn't too different, he had to help. Percy bent down until he was on his knees and wrapped the small, shaking form of the house-elf in his arms.

She cried harder at first but he talked to her and she began to calm down. "I don't know your past friend, but listen to me, this is the present and the past cannot harm you here. It may have been hurtful, and it may have been great. You're here now though and you have to learn to let go.

"Some of these beliefs you have are very harmful to you, you must learn to care about yourself. You must learn to value yourself, you are cared for, by me and Dobby, if no one else.

"Help me help you make a better path for yourself, make your future a better and brighter place. Make the present happy again."

(AN: I always picture Percy as such a great person, someone who can make anyone listen and calm down and feel better… I am not the same—hope that wasn't too bad :S sorry guys.)

He cradled her against him as her breathing evened. He rocked her back and forth, continuing to talk to her.

Suddenly, he wished he had a bed here—tonight he could stay, keep her company; not to mention, he wouldn't have to face his dorm.

He managed to keep himself under control, but almost flinched hard enough to dump Winky out of his arms as a bed popped up beside him.

Carefully, he got up and set Winky on her bed, and turned towards Dobby who was sitting in a chair by the fire.

"I might stay here tonight if that's alright? Can someone stay here for long periods of time?"

"Oh yes, yous can stays here as long yous wants. I is going to the kitchen soon, dinner is being cooked. Thank yous very much for the clothes sir, I shall never forget this." He lowered his voice and whispered into Percy's ear as he bent down, "Please help Winky, she is very sad a lot, she is not well. She misses her old master."

The demigod hugged Dobby, "I promise I will try my best." And with that, they parted.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Yeah, it's been a while I won't even deny it. I am on my way to a schedule of a chapter around every two weeks though! I went over my plans the other day and I can't wait for everything to start heating up.

Hm, not much else to say. So, lastly a huge thank you to ZriptideZ who keeps my writing from looking like a complete mess. Go check her out, she's got some great stories.

Right, well, that's good-bye for now, see you in two weeks :) (8/25/21)