"Are you coming back to bed?"
Her voice floated down the hall of the narrow flat to where he sat, head in his hands, staring at the parchment that had just arrived by owl.
Percy sighed, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. He was tempted to brew a strong cup of tea right now… address this right away and just give them what they wanted…
But her voice pulled him to his senses, and he checked his watch. It would have to wait until morning.
Audrey was sitting up when he stumbled back into the bedroom, plaiting her long dark hair over the shoulder. He set his glasses on the nightstand before sinking down on the edge of the bed.
"What was it about?"
He pressed his lips together. "It's from the Minister. He's on the Wizengamot panel for a series of Azkaban hearings tomorrow, and he wants me to pull the birth records for each defendant's family. Just in case."
"He wants the records from everyone in those families?" she asked incredulously. "How many trials? Does he know it's two in the morning?"
Percy rubbed his temples, his elbows on his knees. "I know, it'll be a lot. I think this is going to be the new normal. Fortunately, I know a few of the surnames, so I'll have a good idea where to start."
He felt her hands on his back, thumbs gently pressing into his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I can go home if you want… sounds like this'll take a while, and I'd just be in the way."
"No." He straightened. "Don't go. I don't have the energy tonight anyway. I'll just have to get up early and start."
"Okay," she agreed uncertainly.
Percy swung his legs onto the bed, settling beside her against the headboard as she resumed with her hair. He watched her through the dim light as her nimble fingers worked, her narrow face and pointed nose silhouetted by the moon and her round, dark eyes soft on his. It was still hard to believe his luck, that as his world continued crumbling as a result of his decisions, she still managed to look past the pariah he'd turned himself into and find the person even he couldn't see anymore. She tied the end of her hair and rested a hand on his cheek.
"What's wrong?"
He shook his head, forcing a smile. "Just tired. Not looking forward to this project tomorrow."
They slipped back under the covers. Her leg slid along his and she hugged his chest. "I know. It doesn't seem fair. What time do those trials start? Do they actually expect you to be able to-"
"I'm not sure what he expects," Percy muttered. He realized he preferred when her hair cascaded across the pillow, so he could run his fingers through it. "His motives have been… erratic so far, to say the least. He's definitely not the only one calling the shots."
Audrey was quiet, and his sense of foreboding seemed to pass through her, too. "What does that mean for tomorrow, though? Will he be mad if you don't have it finished?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I've never been assigned something this… unreasonable."
She stretched forward to kiss him softly. He noticed that same look of concern, how her eyebrows pulled together in the way they did whenever she was about to suggest that he quit. But she knew what he would say. And so did he.
"I meant to ask you," she murmured. "I never noticed that photo on your dresser. Was it always there, or did you just put it up?"
He raised his head to glance across the room at the frame propped against the vanity mirror. It was too dark to see the little figures waving at them. "No, I just found it," he lied. "I was going through some old things."
She grinned. "It's a really cute picture. I can't believe you young you look. And seven kids always sounded like so many, but your family really doesn't seem that huge at all."
Percy matched her smile as dread settled in his stomach, the way it tended to in the middle of the night lately. "Yeah. Feels like a lot of people when everyone's talking around the same dinner table. But I'm lucky to have grown up with all of them."
Her fingers threaded through his, and her gaze dropped to the pillow. "Your dad looks really nice," she whispered.
His eyes fell closed. He knew she didn't mean to hurt him this much. "I know," he choked out.
Neither said anything for a long time. Her thumb grazing the back of his palm was the only indication she wasn't asleep. Percy thought of his father, of the many quirks he had always found so stupid, so infuriating, until one by one, hindsight had made them seem benign. Charming, even. Over the last two years he'd gotten good at pushing these thoughts away, keeping his family in a small, painful box at the back of his mind. But as his brother's wedding had approached, he'd felt the inexplicable urge to seek out that old newspaper in the Ministry's archives, clipping out the photo from their trip to Egypt and realizing that it must be the last one they'd had all together. Now, it was as though he'd broken the latch off that box, and the thoughts and memories flowed whenever they liked. Perhaps there were newer photos, ones with the whole family as they saw it now. Maybe Bill had finally outgrown the gaudy earrings, and Ginny had kept her hair as long as he'd seen it last Christmas.
"Do you think they'll actually start registering Muggle-borns?" Audrey murmured sleepily.
Percy squeezed her hand. "The paperwork came across my desk yesterday for Dolores Umbridge's commission." He'd wanted to toss it straight into the fire, but had reluctantly passed it onto the new Minister. "So yeah, they're going to try. I'm sure it'll be a failed attempt; I can't imagine they'll be able to enforce such a thing with everything going on."
She squeezed her eyes shut shifted closer against him. "I don't know what to do…" she whispered fearfully.
"Aud, I don't think you count as Muggle-born. And I doubt they'd be looking to round anyone up off the list; there are too many wizards from Muggle families out there. And there's nothing about that in the proposed legislation."
She arched a skeptical brow. "Sure, maybe I don't count, but what about my parents? Both Muggle-born." She sighed at the ceiling. "There's no way this is harmless. Everyone at work is comparing it to Nurmengard. If there isn't anything in the legislation yet, there's bound to be soon. This is how these things start."
"Okay, okay." There was the heavy sense of dread again, coiling up through his chest. "You could be right, and it's be best to get ahead of whatever is coming. But we don't know what this is yet. Let me see what I can find out about Umbridge's plans… I've been avoiding her for a while, but… we were once on quite good terms."
It was a mark of her astounding virtue that Audrey did not criticize his confession. Her doleful gaze pierced him, entrusting him with more than she should. "Okay, thanks. Let me know what you find out. I just need to know what's coming."
"Of course."
She propped herself up on her elbows and gave him a searching look.
"What is it?"
She gave him a sad smile. "I know what you think I'm going to say. And I know what you're going to say. But if you quit now… we could just go away, Perce. You and me. You wouldn't have to implicate your family in any of it."
He chuckled darkly. "Where would we go?" he asked skeptically.
She frowned. "I'm serious. We could go wherever you want."
"What about your work? The museum, your research?"
Audrey waved a hand dismissively. "I could quit. Or take a leave. I have some money saved up, and I might need to help my parents hide anyway. This is so much more important than a job."
Percy held her gaze, astounded by the earnestness, the bravery, the devotion he found there, touching him so deeply that it hurt. "I can't, Aud," he murmured.
She didn't waver. "Why not? I have friends abroad, we could go to Spain. Have you ever-"
"It's too dangerous," he said, sharper than before, loathing himself. "My dad, my brothers, they wouldn't be able to keep working. They're already suspected of conspiring with the Order of the Phoenix and helping Potter go underground. I can't risk disappearing and turning more eyes on them."
"Okay, if that's what you think is best-"
"You were right, okay? All those times you suggested it before. I should have left while Scrimgeour was still Minister. But it's too late. You're welcome to say you told me so," he snapped.
She seemed to deflate, and Percy wondered if he'd finally said enough to make her hate him, too. "Of course not. I'm not trying to make you feel worse. You can only deal with what's in front of you now, and I think you're right. It's not worth the risk."
He melted under her generosity. "Maybe someday," he offered, stroking her arm. "Spain does sound nice. If things change…"
"I know. It's okay, Perce."
To his surprise, she stretched up to kiss him again languidly. He pulled her close at the waist, and caressed her back as they parted and she rested her head beside his. The silence that followed was more subdued than before, each of them plunged into their own thoughts.
"You'd really like my dad," said Percy softly after a while. "He loves Muggles. He'd have a lot of questions for you."
She smiled, and the dimple he loved so much creased her cheek. "That's sweet. Maybe someday… I can meet him. And your family."
It broke his heart to return her smile. An icy cold swept through him as he realized that in the days since Thicknesse had been appointed, the chance of returning to his family had been reduced to dust. Arthur was smart; if things got much worse, he'd know how to disappear, and Percy would never hear from them again. Self-hatred wrapped around him like a vice, closing in until he could barely breathe. It would take a miracle, a true miracle, for him to get out of this alive. It was too bad those didn't exist.
"Yeah," he promised Audrey, stroking her cheek. "I think you will."