Percy didn't sneak or try to hide what he was doing when he entered the common room later that morning. No one was about, it being just after six on a Saturday with no classes until the afternoon. He was tired but not exhausted, having managed a few hours of tormented sleep, haunted by dreams of little Ginny dying alone, Harry and a green flash, an accusing Malfoy as well as other less identifiable spider nightmares. His magic felt less strained than he'd thought it would, especially after a pepper up potion burgled from the twin's stash.
After running around the room with his arms held wide to catch any disillusioned wizard that might be lurking, Percy used his body to shield himself from the portraits and regretfully took out the ornately carved wand that he'd won. It was an absolutely marvelous thing, something that already felt like a part of him. It broke his heart, but the wand had the Malfoy crest and was made of that highly noticeable blond wood. If anyone saw him with it then he'd be up before the Wizengamot in a trice and lucky not to be thrown in Azkaban just for his father's willingness to prosecute muggle baiters, even if he could 'prove' that he hadn't murdered Malfoy.
Flexing the wand between his fists, Percy simply couldn't bring himself to snap it. After an agonized moment of desperate thought, he considered whittling the crest off and disguising the wood with some kind of stain. That might ruin it, but snapping it would certainly ruin it. Pulling out his pen-knife, unused since learning the quill trimming spell, he gritted his teeth and placed the blade against the raised side of a ring of fleur-de-lis. Slowly, he began to apply pressure and was shocked when the entire carving slid off in a single piece, like a ring around a cigar.
The 'carving' was left dangling from what looked like some kind of scab, revealing lustrous dark wood with a haze of glue where it had been attached.
Mouth open, Percy examined the 'carving and realized that it was some sort of molded plastic that had been glued on and covered over by a veneer. Throwing it into the fire, he peeled the rest of the substance away. Revealed was a richly beautiful rosewood wand. Its only carving was the anti-slip checking that had been indented on the handle, which retained the veneer that had made up the wand's snowy outer appearance.
Looking at the exterior covering, Percy decided that the veneer must also be some sort of chemical mixed with real wood. It certainly had the requisite chemical smell when he peeled and threw it into the fire. It made him smile to imagine some sly continental wand maker gulling the rich purebloods out of vast piles of galleons by gluing up 'custom' plastic wands.
Using his handkerchief, fingernail, and the penknife to very gingerly peel the white flecks out of the checking, he cleaned and then carefully polished the wand, rapturously admiring its lustrous beauty. He saw yellows, reds, purples and every hue in between on the wood. Gingerly he tugged the wand, feeling the tough flexibility. He didn't know the core, but rosewood fit him. He could be described as prickly and he made the best of things, but he could bend if necessary.
Reluctantly sliding his wand into an inner pocket of his robe, Percy knew that in spite of its changed appearance he could not afford to be noticed for anything unusual just yet. He would have to keep the rosewood wand a secret until enough time had passed that it wouldn't be associated with recent events.
His family talked incessantly, incautiously and typically spread their thoughts far and wide. A new wand would not escape extensive comment, so he would have to keep it a secret. Maybe he could eventually pass it off as a dead-stick obtained from wand swapping. No pureblood would want to speak of the business, smacking as it did of necromancy or disrespect toward ostensibly revered ancestors.
Picking up the poker, Percy crumbled the plastic residue until all of it burned, leaving nothing behind but a slight chemical smell.
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Percy drew the unpleasant Prewett hand-me-down and cast an air freshening charm, once more considering his exposure. He had dealt with the wand and everything else taken from Malfoy was either burnt or hidden in the warded strong-room that Bill had made. No point-me charm could locate it and Flint's spare had been left in the Great Hall, under the Slytherin table.
Lf
Harry made his way to the common room early. His arm was aching badly in spite of Fawkes showing up to help him again. Flopping down in a chair, he was a little anxious to see Percy standing in front of the fire. Seamus had come in last night actually crying. Harry, who hadn't cried when the basilisk had bitten him, was leery of Percy. What could he have done?
"Good morning, Harry." Percy approached carefully, considering the extent of his exposure. He took a seat on the couch. "What are you doing up so early?"
"Good morning, Percy." Harry grimaced and rubbed his arm. "My arm hurts and I couldn't sleep anymore. I was waiting for the infirmary to open so that I could get it looked at and visit with Hermione. Where is Ron?"
Percy felt his face relax into a smile. It was enormously cute the way that the solemn boy so conscientiously visited the petrified girl. He would have made a fine little Hufflepuff. "Ron, Ginny and the twins left for the Burrow with Mother last night. She wanted to get you out too, but Dumbledore said no. They'll be back next term."
"Someone's got to be here for Hermione." He well understood what it was like to be completely alone and Hermione would be able to count on him. Harry grimaced, holding his arm, shifting in the chair and desperately trying to find a comfortable position.
"What happened to your arm? I would think that Madame Pomphrey would have kept you in the infirmary last night." Percy yawned, grimacing at the grainy feel of his eyes.
"The basilisk bit me and then a whole bunch of other stuff. I never did get to see her." Harry grit his teeth from the dull throbbing ache.
Percy froze in mid yawn, adrenaline spiking through him, his heart giving an odd lurch. "You were bitten by a basilisk?"
Harry wasn't much given to talking about himself, but he needed to unload. "It was big and fast but kind of stupid, knocking headfirst into the walls and biting at stone once Fawkes had the eyes out. It should have been easy to kill then, but the skin was so hard that my sword just slid off, even when I ran at it all braced to punch through!" Harry scowled at the memory of his pathetically ineffective attacks.
"You ran at it with a sword?" Percy could hardly believe what he was hearing, but it just didn't look like Potter was lying.
Harry shrugged. "That and dodged about looking for a soft spot. Tom, the berk, kept telling it where I was and it was going to get me, so I jumped at the open mouth and stabbed up through the brain from the bottom. It was plenty soft there, but one of the teeth went in my arm."
Percy gasped. "How are you still alive?"
"The tooth was broken and came out with me. It was really kind of lucky because I had left the sword stuck in. Tom, Voldemort's real name is Tom Riddle you know, had my wand and was almost solid."
"Voldemort." Percy felt faint at how close the bastard had come. "Why was it lucky, Harry?"
"I used it." Harry's scowl deepened. "Tom was hiding inside of a diary somehow, like a great dirty ink blot. Ginny got hold of it from Malfoy and Tom was taking over her magic, using it to make himself real, controlling and killing her. I got all numb and fell down while Tom just went on and on about himself, whining and complaining about how bad he'd got it, just like every shit of a bully does, as if anyone cares about their cowardly rubbish, bragging about how he was going to kill all of my friends and so on. I hate bullies and was thinking about how good it would be to somehow get him before I went, when Fawkes came up and cried into the wound. I suddenly felt much better."
Harry took a breath, green eyes blazing with remembered malice. "Ginny was almost gone and I'd had enough of Tom, so I stabbed the diary with the tooth before he was all the way out. It killed him at once and Ginny woke right up." He pulled up the sleeve of his robe to reveal an angry red ring where a huge tooth had punched through his arm. "That venom ruined my robe and it costs two galleons."
Percy felt his hair stirring from the sheer horror that the mark conveyed. If that spike of a tooth had hit bone, then scrawny undersized little Harry would have probably lost the arm. He closed his eyes, reeling at these horrific revelations. "Don't worry, Harry, I'll be happy to pay for your robe. Does Dumbledore know that you were bitten?"
"I don't remember." Harry rubbed his arm again. "Maybe. He wanted to talk in his office but he never really said anything and there was a thing with Malfoy. Since I was tired no one acted like it was important I just went straight to bed."
"It is rather important." Percy was in the throes of an epiphany. He did not like Albus Dumbledore. His parents lionized the old man as the 'Leader of the Light,' having followed him during the last war. His father owed the old man his job, but Percy wouldn't be in his camp, not now or ever.
Dumbledore was careless with lives, getting by on luck and never counting the cost as he never seemed to pay the price for his ideals, leaving that check for followers like the now extinct Prewett family to pay. The man was a terrible administrator and simply occupied his office, leaving all the work to his deputy. He couldn't be bothered to follow through on even the smallest thing.
All that one had to do to see it in action was to look at the deplorable state of Hogwarts, with three out of five core courses little more than bodged together self-study sessions and the rest sliding inexorably downhill. Percy noticed that the boy was becoming agitated by his ominous silence and smoothed away his thunderous scowl. "I'm going to cast mobilcorpus and take you to the infirmary now, Harry. Everything is probably alright, but try not to move about in case any leftover venom spreads."