Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise, the only things here that are mine are the plot, a few background characters and one very crazy, caffeine deprived, Ministry bigwig.

A/N: As is now traditional, I apologise for the ludicrous wait for this. If indeed anyone was waiting.

Jadely31 – you may be the only person left reading this, and you always say such lovely things too! Thank you again for reviewing, you have my solemn promise I will not drop the story. I am thoroughly determined to finish this. Percy's having quite the day here, the poor darling, but I definitely think he's making progress. :)

A Subtle Change

Chapter 26

Without coffee things had, over a few days, quickly grown ever more tense in the Ministry offices. Percy's head was pounding, possibly due to Druscilla's frustrated yells at everyone who'd crossed her path and possibly due to it being admittedly far too long since he'd last had a cup of coffee. His boss had proved more than equal to the coffee battle and he hadn't managed to drink a cup at work for days. It didn't help that there was rarely any decent coffee at home as his mother had many years ago switched his father onto decaf (probably in a misguided attempt to calm his over-excitement about bringing muggle artefacts home from the office).

Percy suspected Druscilla simply didn't think about making her own coffee. She'd spent so long with other people fetching it for her that she seemed almost bewildered by the fact her mug was empty and no one was doing anything about it. He'd caught her on her way in that morning with a take-out cup from a muggle coffee chain, that smelt like it contained a quadruple espresso, and vanished it before she could down it in one. Her response had been unrepeatable. He was beginning to think that this 'decaffeinate the boss' idea was poorly thought through. Druscilla wasn't becoming any less twitchy, she was becoming more so, but now it had descended into a battle of wits and wills between the two of them to keep each other off the coffee. At the back of his mind was the idea that this was probably not wise, nor was it helping current affairs. The mile-wide competitive streak he had though was egging him ever on.

Percy's day usually began by briefing his boss on hers. Despite the fact that he had his own department to run (in name at least, if rarely in fact) Druscilla Thornfield still had him at her beck and call as though he were her PA. He had long since realised that at least part of the reason she had installed him in his current position was to extend her own reach through him, he might be keeping the International Magical Cooperation office ticking over but she was always the one holding his reins.

Druscilla was in a foul mood after the coffee vanishing and the atmosphere in her office that morning was distinctly uncomfortable. "I had to clear most of your diary for today," Percy explained. "The Order meeting's at 11, then this afternoon is the Auror training session you told Kingsley you'd take part in."

"And you expect me to do that without coffee do you?" Druscilla snapped, shuffling papers on her desk.

Percy stilled the papers with a careful hand. "How's everything progressing?" he asked his boss cautiously.

Denied the chance to mess up her paperwork, Druscilla began fidgeting obsessively with a quill. Another side-effect of her decaffeination appeared to be an even greater inability than usual to keep still. "Slowly. You'll get an update from myself and Kingsley at the meeting later, I don't want to announce anything yet." Percy was a little hurt at her unusual unwillingness to keep him in the loop. She sighed in frustration and threw down her quill. "I just want to be doing something, but I'm running out of things to do."

Percy nearly asked if she'd like some of his work, such as the mountain of filing she'd left on his desk, but thought better of it. "Why don't you take a break. Go for lunch with Remus or something after the meeting?"

"He's not talking to me," she sulked. "Just because I called him out on what his bickering with Snape was really about the other day, and for that matter all the rest of the time as well."

Percy decided, by the manic look in her eye, that it was best not to question what Remus bickering with Snape was 'really about'. "I see, so you provoked him again."

She snorted, "I don't know why you're always on his side, I am the one paying your wages." Lack of caffeine was definitely making Druscilla more difficult.

"I'm not on anybody's side," Percy started to placate her, before adding, "But you have developed a tendency around him of acting like an eight year old with a playground crush."

"Excuse me?" she spluttered.

"I'm just saying, if he had pigtails you'd be pulling them."

"Percival Weasley, your sudden (and believe me unexpected) ability to sort out your own love life does not mean you get to lecture me on mine!"

Somewhat embarrassed by her reference to his situation with Oliver, he decided the only thing to be done was to brazen it out. "What love life? I thought Remus wasn't talking to you?"

"Out!" She pointed decisively at her door. "Out now!"

Percy retreated gratefully, wondering what had possessed him to actually voice his inner thoughts to his boss in such a manner. As a manic shout of, "And don't come back until you've given up this madness and made me some coffee!" followed him down the corridor, he reflected that, if one of them didn't back down from this coffee issue, sooner or later he was going to find himself rapidly unemployed.

XXXXXXX

The worse things seemed to get between the Order members the more Order meetings Dumbledore seemed to call. It was as though he thought that with constant exposure to each other they'd soon all be the best of friends. Percy frankly would have preferred to have the time to get some actual work done. He was however spending his morning once more sat around the large dining table at Grimmauld Place.

This meeting was no more successful than the last few had been. There seemed to be a general sense of waiting for something that was driving everyone to the edge of their endurance. With no new information Dumbledore seemed at first almost to have called them all together just to keep an eye on them. Percy was oddly sure however that the 'something' they were waiting for had started moving without most of them being kept informed. Himself included. His suspicions were partially confirmed by the headmaster turning an almost cold eye on the cluster of Ministry staff sat at the opposite end of the table to himself. (Percy couldn't help but note Druscilla had set herself up at the foot of the table with Kingsley on her right hand side. It looked almost as though she were willing to start a fight about which end of the table was going to be the head, and for once it looked like Kingsley might be more willing to support her than he would Dumbledore.)

"Druscilla, Kingsley, would you like to update us on recent Ministry developments," Dumbledore did not sound as though the mentioned 'developments' had pleased him.

Druscilla deferred, unusually, to Kingsley. It was clear the two of them were most definitely working together.

"Following recent discussions with the Minister," Kingsley began, his usual calm tone touched with more gravity than usual, "The decision has been taken to license the Aurors in the use of the Unforgivables whilst in conflict with, or pursuit of, the Death Eaters. I will be informing them this afternoon and reminding them of the rules and the conduct that they are expected to follow."

There was a shocked murmur around the table. Tonks looked deeply uneasy, large blue eyes fixed on her boss in a mixture of trust and uncertainty. Not the best way to find out you'd got a license to kill, control and torment, Percy thought, in a room full of people not facing the same terrible responsibility.

Something deep in his bowels twisted unpleasantly at the idea of Aurors, of Ministry personnel, carrying out Ministry-sanctioned Unforgivable Curses. His own eyes flew accusingly to Druscilla who, as ever, met his gaze in utter assurance of her own point of view. She'd supported this, Percy was in no doubt of that, she and Kingsley made a seamless team when in agreement and they clearly were here. He looked away.

From one end of the table Percy naturally glanced to the other. Dumbledore's gaze was stony, it was clear exactly what he thought. There were a number of other people too looking deeply unhappy with the decision and some were eyeing Percy angrily. Guilty by association, never mind that this was the first he'd heard of any of it or that he didn't have the first clue how to feel about it beyond that horrible nagging ache in his guts that governments shouldn't be killing their own citizens. Dumbledore's gaze however softened as it met his, almost as though he could read Percy's feelings on the matter in his eyes. It was Dumbledore, he probably could. Instead of making Percy feel better, it made him feel oddly as though he were betraying Druscilla and he quickly looked away.

Ever since that terrible day 18 months ago, when he had come home from what had felt at the time like a monumentally important day in his career only to end up walking straight back out again with no where to go and suddenly no family to care where he went, he'd felt the impossible conflict between his loyalty to his job and the Ministry and his loyalty to his family and those they had allied themselves with. Leaving Fudge's office had not left behind all of the issues the Ministry intrinsically had, that perhaps all governments had.

Percy believed in showing a united front, in standing by his boss and the Ministry, sometimes when he didn't agree with them. He understood, as he felt some people never did, that it was impossible to always agree with the Ministry, short of starting a coup and setting himself up as dictator. He had a feeling that should Dumbledore ever feel a need to try that he'd have a terrifying number of supporters, many of them currently sat round this table. Druscilla on the other hand would be torn down the moment she gave any serous indication of even considering anything of the kind. If there'd been nothing else to sway his opinion that alone would have made Percy more comfortable with her than the headmaster, he was long done with leaders who, intentionally or not, commanded unquestioning loyalty. However, questioned or not, Druscilla had his loyalty and even as he resolved to speak with her in private he steeled his expression in public and kept his doubts firmly to himself.

Many of the others had no such qualms. Unsurprisingly this included his mother who had never in her entire life shied away from arguing for what she thought was right.

"What reasonable use can there ever be for the Cruciatus curse?" Molly Weasley was eyeing up Druscilla in such a way as to make Percy think his boss really should be looking more worried than she was. It Moody however who answered the question.

"Sometimes Aurors need information and there's no other way to get it." Moody sounded grim and Tonks went white, including her hair, though Percy was reasonably sure that with all eyes on Moody nobody else noticed.

"Those curses are called unforgivable for a reason." Emmeline Vance spoke stiffly, her anger at the idea barely restrained.

Druscilla snorted. "Yes. Reason being we really, really wanted to instil in people the severity of what they were doing in even so much as contemplating using them. Trouble is the Death Eaters didn't get the owl." Druscilla and Emmeline had never seemed friendly, the older witch certainly cast a slightly judgemental eye on the occasional wildness of Druscilla's behaviour and the younger woman made it clear she did not care for this one bit.

"So we're handing Aurors the right to kill people?" Mundungus Fletcher cast a sly glance at Tonks, making it clear he did not think the girl who had already spilt coffee over him twice today was someone he'd trust with Unforgiveable curses.

"I can assure you that my team are responsible, controlled and willing to sacrifice their lives to keep our world safe," Kingsley was not about to let such remarks pass unchallenged. "I see no reason that under the current circumstances we should leave them fighting at a disadvantage, these are not your average criminals." Something in the way Kingsley phrased 'average criminal' while looking directly at Mundungus made Percy want to chuckle and he saw definite smiles from both Druscilla and Moody.

"The Auror's job is supposed to be law enforcement, not waging war!" Hestia Jones sounded worried.

"Precisely." Druscilla and Kingsley seemed utterly united in intent and strategy, both giving the same response within a split-second of each other.

"Enough." Dumbledore brought the argument to a close a little later than Percy would usually have expected him to. "We have no power to influence Ministry decision making. Druscilla and Kingsley must advise the Minister as they think best." The Headmaster's displeasure was obvious but it did at least put an end to the discussion.

It was often the way these days that the Order only remained together long enough for Dumbledore to quell the latest argument and today was no change. As the meeting drew to a close the Order members started to file out in small groups and Percy couldn't help but observe the very definite (and often warring) cliques that had developed within the Order.

The Hogwarts teachers almost always arrived and left together, with the exception of Snape whose movements were becoming ever more erratic as Voldemort's activity and unpredictability increased.

Percy's parents and Alastor Moody were often together, his father's long-term friendship with the paranoid ex-auror going some way towards soothing some of his wilder suspicions. Strangely the person Moody was seen talking with most often, aside from the Weasleys, was Mudungus Fletcher, who seemed to enjoy the opportunity to get under the other man's skin. Mundungus appeared to love nothing more than engaging in an endless battle of wits with Moody in an attempt to wheel, deal and steal everything he could get away with.

Emmeline Vance and Hestia Jones were clearly old friends who kept much to themselves, often talking quietly with Dedalus Diggle.

Oliver and Charlie had, much to Percy's early chagrin, clearly taken to one another. They had each recognized a kindred Quidditch obsessed spirit and were now once again locked in conversation about some match or other that involved people Percy had never heard of. He had occasionally contemplated interrupting with a point about the political relations of the countries playing and asking how diplomacy and conflict transferred onto the pitch but he was afraid he'd get the same look Fred and George so often gave him that seemed to say 'Go away, Percy, you just don't get it.' Fred and George were of course always out of the room as soon as possible and back to plotting chaos while Bill remained, somewhat self-importantly Percy felt in his less charitable moments, at their parents' side.

Remus was like Severus Snape in a lot of ways Percy thought, something of a loner who often came and went without anyone knowing or accompanying him. Though, unlike Severus, Remus managed to seem at home talking to any and all of the Order, his natural friendliness smoothing over even the grouchy Potions Master's sarcastic attitude on some days.

Then there were the rest of the Ministry members. Druscilla was spending an increasing amount of time speaking with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks, especially since her relationship with Remus seemed to have turned frosty again over the past couple of days. She had hung back to speak with them now, or rather to speak with Kingsley while Tonks waited at the side looking like she was longing to go and talk Quidditch with Charlie and Oliver but waiting patiently for her boss.

"Fudge is still complaining about not being kept in the loop on things," Druscilla was grumbling, "I think he thinks I know more than I actually do."

"Well you've been conning him with that for years, though it is a little rich wanting to be kept in the loop when it was his department information was leaking from." Kingsley was still frustrated that they had failed to catch Natalie Andrews, the spy in the Minster's office, until it was much too late. He was possibly even more frustrated that it had been Druscilla and not one of his own team who had uncovered her. "We don't need anyone else involved who may decide to sell us out, people are getting jumpy and scared and that's never a good sign."

"Yeah, right now I'd sell you all out for a decent cup of coffee," Druscilla grumbled, unintentionally lightening the tone. "This time tomorrow I suspect it will no longer even have to be 'decent'."

"Good to know, perhaps you could tell me after you've done it and I'll arrange for the Aurors to pick you up from your office?" Kingsley smiled at his long-time colleague, aware that she would never do anything of the sort.

"Oh please!" she scoffed. "I was an Auror, I know all the tricks, you'd never catch me!"

"You weren't an Auror." Percy was unable to stop himself interrupting. "You did the training but then were offered a post in International Magical Cooperation and never actually served in the Auror Office, though you have led several of the more high profile or high risk raids and saw combat alongside the Auror Office during the last war."

Druscilla frowned crossly. "Percy, did you swallow my CV as well as the encyclopedia and, I'm willing to bet, all that coffee you keep confiscating?"

"I did do some research before agreeing to work for you." Right now he wasn't sure he'd done enough.

"And yet you still accepted the job," Kingsley chuckled.

Druscilla was beginning to look almost comically outraged.

"You know if You-Know-Who were just a little more patient he'd realise the real way to win this was to wait and let us all pick each other off." Tonks sounded gloomy, even her cheerful optimism was beginning to fade of late.

"He's got Harry Potter and an army of Death Eaters at his disposal I wouldn't go criticising his strategy just yet." Druscilla snapped.

"Not to mention all the information he can get out of you if he just thinks to buy you a coffee first!" Kingsley chuckled.

Remus lifted an eyebrow and remarked, "Still anyone's for a cup of coffee, Dru?" as he wandered past without sparing her a glance.

Percy found himself backing away slightly at the glint in his boss' eyes at that moment.

Druscilla let out a sudden frustrated exclamation in the form of an unladylike snort. "Right, I'm done here, I'm just going to find my cloak."

Kingsley watched her stalk away and raised a sceptical eyebrow at Percy. "So we like our officials twitchy at times like this do we?"

Percy looked momentarily confused, then chagrined. "When this started I thought it would make her less twitchy. I hadn't counted on her going into a full-on withdrawal, I didn't realise how addicted she was! I think she was actually functioning solely on coffee and adrenaline."

"And now she's functioning solely on adrenaline?" Kingsley prompted gently.

Percy sighed, "You think I should get her a cup of coffee, don't you?"

"I think she drinks too much coffee, she always has, but it's hardly the worst of her vices." Kingsley looked as though Druscilla's 'vices' rather amused him. They tended to leave Percy vaguely disturbed.

Druscilla returned before he could respond, still looking disgruntled, now wearing her warm winter cloak. Percy suspected she only put it on for the effect of stylishly swirling it when irritated as she could hardly need a cloak when travelling by floo. She was swirling it now, swishing it's folds in a restless manner. "I should get back to the office," she declared.

"Yes, I'll head back with you, Professor."

Druscilla pointedly ignored her young employee. "Kingsley, I believe we have a training session to get to?"

"Of course. We'll see if you really do know 'all the tricks'." Kingsley, ever the gentleman, gestured for Druscilla to lead the way and the two of them exited Grimmauld Place without a backwards glance. Tonks exchanged a brief, long suffering, look with Percy before quickly following them.

Left alone Percy sighed and sank down in a nearby chair, enjoying a moment's peace before he headed after his trying boss. He hadn't been sat for more than a moment though before he felt strong hands massaging his shoulders, drawing the tension from him with practised ease.

"Oliver?"

"You were expecting someone else?" the Scottish accent took on a decidedly mischievous tone.

Percy glanced around nervously and stood up, pulling slightly away and keeping the chair between them. "We're the only ones here, Percy," Oliver's tone hardened a degree.

Percy sighed and looked away, refusing to meet Oliver's eyes and somehow Oliver found he couldn't be as annoyed as he wanted to be. Percy just looked so tired. "Let me take you for lunch. Anywhere you like."

Percy shook his head, "I need to get back to the office, maybe another day."

Oliver was not to be deterred, he was pretty sure that when it came to Percy it paid to be persistent. "Well then why don't you come to mine this evening? I'll cook us some dinner."

"Is this that brand of cooking you specialise in that involves a take away menu?" Percy's remark came out harsher than he would have liked but Oliver, as ever, took it in good humour.

"Like you're any better." Oliver grinned, "I'm sure I'll find some way to prevent us from starving. What do you say?"

Percy reluctantly refused. "I'll probably need to work late. I'm sorry. If I finish at a reasonable hour maybe I could come over later?"

Oliver tried and failed to hide his disappointment, "Sure."

Feeling guilty, and a little more daring than usual (probably down to the lack of coffee again), Percy kissed him briefly without even glancing at the open door (though he was unable to help the relief that flowed over him when no one caught them). "I'll try not to finish too late."

XXXXXXX

Kingsley and Druscilla parted ways at the Ministry with Druscilla faithfully promising to be at the Auror training session as agreed. Kingsley was however unsurprised when the session started promptly that afternoon without her. She sashayed through the door somewhere in the middle of him explaining the second exercise to the gathered Aurors and stood there watching intently until the Aurors paired off and started work and he granted her his full attention.

"Well," she was twirling her wand in a manner every wizarding child was taught was reckless and foolish, "Who do I get to play with?"

Kingsley raised his wand with a confidant smile. "You get to join me. You heard the aim of the exercise, disarm and restrain as quickly as possible without resorting to causing serious or lasting harm."

She chuckled darkly, "No problem."

The two started out slowly, coolly assessing, testing each other with exploratory attacks and cautious parries. The escalation was dilatory, almost lazy, a slow-dance with two well-practised but unfamiliar partners. Things did escalate nevertheless, the attacks becoming ever more well-placed as they soon grew to anticipate each other's moves. As the defences became less easy and their parries less sure, Druscilla's fighting style became progressively dirtier. Kingsley was far from foolish enough to allow his gentlemanly ways to cause him to hold back but he was taken by surprise by just how underhand some of her tactics were. From playground misdirection to the full on use of spells and strategies very much not Ministry approved, targeted to wrong-foot, unbalance and disturb the senses, Druscilla was clawing at any chance of the advantage. Kingsley however had had years of practice in the last war fighting people who did not believe in fighting fair and held her at bay well enough to pursue his own style of attack.

Most of the Aurors by this point had stopped to watch, eager to see which of them would finally take down the other. Spells bounced madly back and forth, two pairs of dark eyes following each others' every move. The other Aurors were hardly less appraising in their gazes while quiet wagers were passed on the outcome. None of them uttered a word of verbal encouragement to either though, Kingsley had trained them far better than that.

Eventually when advantage truly passed to one of them the other was slow to notice it. As Kingsley threw one final spell at Druscilla he finally saw recognition dawn in her eyes. He snatched her wand out of the air and pocketed his own as she went down like a sack of potatoes, nothing graceful in the move at all, head smacking back against the cushion-charmed floor hard enough that it still made an impressive cracking sound. She lay entirely still for a worrying number of seconds before lifting her hand to her head with a groan. "Ok, I surrender," she croaked out.

Kingsley twirled her wand in his fingers in an imitation of her own behaviour in the doorway. "Glad to hear it." He extended a hand which she took with good grace and allowed herself to be hauled back to her feet, stumbling right into him before she regained her footing.

The rest of the Aurors were quietly exchanging galleons and all looking pleased to see their boss the victor. Druscilla turned to them, "I see you are in excellent hands and that under your protection so is Wizarding Britain. You are all aware of the current climate, we live in interesting times and you are the front line that has to stand between our way of life and those who would take it from us. I hope you know that I, and indeed the rest of the Ministry, have every faith in your abilities and more importantly in your devotion to your duty and the rules we ask you to operate under. I hope you will take the recent re-licensing of the use of the Unforgiveables against Voldemort's supporters as the expression of our faith in your judgement that it is."

There were more than a few grim nods and pale faces among the Aurors. Druscilla turned back to Kingsley, "Walk out with me?"

Kingsley followed her out towards the lift and once they were out of sight and sound of anyone else she stopped and, to his astonishment, proffered his wand. "You might want this."

"How did you..."

"I don't need a wand to disarm a man," she winked. "I picked your pocket when you picked me up. Something a guy I once knew taught me...of course he wound up in prison for grand larceny so I try not to practice his tricks too often. Promise me you won't help any other of your victims back to their feet, that was a little trusting considering the nasty tricks I tried to pull on you in there."

The man was grudgingly both amused and impressed. "It would seem it was, but I can assure you if I had ever considered you a real threat I would have left you on the floor."

"Well I suppose I should congratulate you, I threw everything I had at you and I couldn't stop you."

"I imagine you can fight even dirtier than that if you're moved to it."

She laughed, "Very possibly, but I concede you are likely the better dueller."

"That's why I lead the Aurors and you..."

"Lead the Ministry?" she had a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Not yet you don't," he chuckled.

XXXXXXX

Percy had spent the afternoon sat at his desk, dwelling on the events of the morning until he could stand it no longer. He had work to do that wasn't getting done, an ever diminishing chance of leaving work in time to see Oliver, and a headache worse than the one he'd started the day with. He knew he needed to talk to his boss but he wanted to be a little sure of his own thoughts first. He briefly considered speaking to his father but the conflict of Ministry and family loomed dangerously close in that conversation and he quickly rejected the idea. There were not many people Percy had ever turned to for advice, he generally preferred to keep his own council, but there was one possibility.

Sighing, Percy checked the time and calculated that Hogwarts classes should have ended for the day but that there was still a good hour left before dinner. Mind made up he flooed directly to the school and, avoiding the Great Hall and the prospect of running into Dumbledore, headed straight for the dungeons, garnering a few odd looks from some Slytherins on the way. He found Snape in his office.

"Mr Weasley." The Professor seemed wary of the unannounced visit but still more polite than Percy imagined he would have been if it had been any one of his siblings dropping by. "What brings you here?"

"Good Evening, Professor. I wanted to talk to you if you have a moment." Percy stopped to collect his thoughts, he was all too aware of how likely he was to be touching once again on an extremely difficult subject for the older man. Screwing up his nerve, and trying not to remember the response he'd received the last time he'd done that, Percy barrelled ahead. "What was said this morning, about the licensing of the Unforgiveables against the Death Eaters. What do you think of it?"

Snape looked surprised and slightly irritated at being asked. "I think it is necessary to fight them in the only language left that they understand." There was a calm control in his response that seemed in danger of fraying, Percy had the feeling that 'slightly irritated' was simply the emotion that had bubbled through, beneath the surface the man was likely worse than irritated at being forced to discuss such a topic.

It should have made him cautious, probably should have made him respectful enough to back off, but Percy wanted some kind of real response and found himself pushing for it slightly desperately. "Doesn't it make us no different to them? We kill for a cause, so do they, we both think we're right, what's the difference?"

"Mr Weasley," Snape sounded frustrated, "Coming to me for moral guidance is, at the very least, misguided," he sneered.

Percy's conscience was screaming at him that he was asking someone, who didn't like discussing feelings at all, how he felt about deadly force being licensed upon those he had once called friends and even possibly against himself. The fact that the person in question was Snape, whose support had been vital in putting him back on his feet once before, made him feel all the worse. "I'm sorry, sir," Percy was by now regretting the whole idea, "I'll leave you in peace."

"Is this about them, or about you?" Snape's voice recalled him from the door as he was leaving.

Percy frowned in confusion and returned to stand in front of Snape's desk, like a student about to receive a telling off. "What?"

"Is this about Death Eaters being human beings with a right to life," Snape sneered, "Or about you still exorcising your guilt from last summer. Are you under the delusion that standing against use of the Unforgivables will somehow change what you did yourself? That you killed someone."

Percy was quiet for a moment. "I don't know." His voice sounded very small in his ears and he could feel tiny, traitorous pinpricks of too long repressed emotion behind his eyes.

Snape gave a small smile, it lacked the warmth of approval but the humour in it was not, Percy felt, entirely at his expense. Still it irritated him, that he had come looking for guidance and received this in return. "What are you smiling at? What about any of this is worth smiling over?" he asked quietly.

Snape's tone achieved a level of stern, steady calm worthy of McGonagall herself. "Weasley, ignorance is a dangerous thing, perhaps never more so than when it is ignorance of our own motives or our own selves. It is however at its least dangerous when we can admit to it. I suspect this soul searching has more to do with your own guilt than anything else. What you did has changed you. This is the consequence." He was silent for a moment and his expression softened from its normal irritation to a weary scowl that looked almost concerned. "I warned you not to allow the incident to define you."

"I'm not," Percy insisted. "I just don't know if I can stop it defining how I feel about certain things."

Snape paused and looked away. "No, probably not." He returned to reading through some papers on his desk. "You should talk to someone, you're not handling things as well as you think you are. And by 'someone' I do not mean me."

Percy's lips twitched unbidden into a small smile, the man sounded appalled at the very notion that someone might decide to try and have a discussion about their feelings with him. "I'll think about it, sir. Thank you."

Snape waved him away without looking up and Percy exited quickly, sensing the other man's strong desire to be alone.

Percy knew there was a pile of work awaiting him on his desk but he also knew that there was something else he needed to do before there was any hope of his work getting anything like his full attention. He found himself once more stood on Oliver's doorstep with no idea of what he was going to say. His nerves melted though as Oliver opened the door and gave him a delighted grin.

"Hey, you left work early!"

Percy brushed off an attempt at a kiss and strode past him into the flat. "No. That is I have to go back, but I went to see Snape and then just wanted to see you and I have to tell you something."

"What?" Oliver couldn't hold back a laugh at Percy's words tumbling over each other in their speed to get out. "You're leaving me for Snape?"

Percy brushed aside Oliver's good humour impatiently. "This is important." He took a deep breath and blurted out, "I killed someone."

Oliver stood for a moment in open mouthed shock. He tried several times to form a sentence before silently taking Percy by the arms and sitting him in a nearby chair, dropping to his knees at the side. "Ok, let's just clarify something here. Do you need me to help you conceal a body?"

"No!" Percy frowned, "Oliver..."

"I'm not saying I wouldn't..."

"You...what?!"

"Whatever you've done, I just want to help."

Percy raised an incredulous eyebrow Snape would have been proud of. "Including concealing a body?"

"Percy!" Oliver was literally tearing at his hair, "Tell me what you've done or I can't help you. And I want to."

Percy sank his face into his hands and his bony shoulders started to tremble.

"Percy?" Oliver edged forwards, carefully. "It's going to be ok." He frowned, "Are you laughing?"

Percy lifted his face from his hands, eyes dancing with astonished and slightly hysterical mirth. "You want to help me hide a body? Then what," he smirked, "Are we going on the run?"

Oliver did not see the humour in the situation. "What is this about?"

Percy sobered instantly. "I'm sorry. There's no body hiding required, it all happened some time ago. But I do need to tell you about it."

Quietly and simply, Percy forced himself through the story of his encounter with the Death Eaters the previous summer, Oliver had heard it all before but never with the details of what Percy himself had done and that it had cost someone their life. Percy didn't meet Oliver's eyes once. At the end he simply fell silent, staring down at his over-shined shoes.

Oliver took his hand gently, "Percy, look at me." The fear and uncertainty in Percy's blue eyes made Oliver want to take him in his arms and promise it was all ok, but he knew that comforting lies were not what Percy was looking for. "Did you expect me to run screaming?"

The touch of lightness to Oliver's tone made Percy smile a little. "I don't know. I certainly didn't expect you to offer to help me hide bodies."

"Hey, anything for you, gorgeous," Oliver winked and gave Percy his knee-wobbling 1000wat grin usually reserved for Witch Weekly.

Embarrassed by just how easily Oliver could derail his brain functions, Percy huffed frustratedly, "Be serious."

"Maybe I am," the level of sincerity in Oliver's voice was devastating to Percy's ability to form sentences, or rationally extrapolate that his boyfriend being willing to cover up murder for him might prove cause for concern in the wrong circumstances. Instead of offering a lecture on the moralities of the subject, Percy sat there gaping like a fish.

Oliver squeezed his hand firmly. "I'm not going anywhere, Percy. I'm not going to judge you for this, or for anything else you tell me. I'm not going to say it's all ok, because you're clearly not ok with this and I'm not exactly surprised by that. Are you bringing this up because of what was said in the meeting about the Unforgiveables?"

"I know what it sounds like when a body hits the ground. It kind of thuds, like," Percy paused for a moment, "Well like nothing in particular really. It just drops, no fanfare, no lights in the sky, no nothing. Life just ends and the world carries on.

"Oh Perce," Oliver pulled him up gently but insistently into his arms. "I don't think you did anything wrong. I don't believe anyone would think you did"

They stood in silence for a long moment while Percy buried his head in Oliver's broad shoulder and struggled to get his breathing and his thoughts back under control. Eventually he stood up straight, carefully staying in Oliver's arms like he felt too scared to leave the protection they seemed to offer. "I don't like this. It's not right. It's not what the Aurors should be for."

"You've got a big heart, Percy. You're usually so afraid of it getting hurt that you hide it under a slightly disturbing attachment to rules and regulations and overly buttoned up robes," Oliver toyed playfully with the top button of many on Percy's midnight blue robes, "But underneath all that is someone who cares very passionately about things and about people. Of course you don't like this, I doubt anybody does and if Thornfied and Kingsley are as comfortable with it as they manage to seem then I'd be surprised and pretty alarmed. We're not meant to feel comfortable about something like this." Oliver seemed almost embarrassed by his own confident words on a topic so far from his usual comfort zone of casual conversation, "At least I don't think so," he shrugged, "What would I know though, maybe I should stick to Quidditch."

Percy decided he most definitely didn't like the look of insecurity his lover was sporting that sat so poorly on the handsome, charmingly open, features. "Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, before kissing him long and hard and surprising himself almost as much as Oliver.

"Wow," the handsome scot grinned, "What was that for?"

"Being far more than you paint yourself as being. And in this instance being right." Despite Oliver trying to pull Percy back towards him he was already pulling away and straightening his tie, self-control firmly back in place. "I have to go back to work. I'll try and come back later, I promise."

"Ok," Oliver knew it would be pointless to argue. "So did he help?"

Percy looked momentarily confused. "Snape? He was, as usual, acerbically cryptic yet, yes, helpful. He, possibly inadvertently, sent me to talk to you."

Percy was sure that telling Oliver was not what Snape had meant by 'talk to someone'. He had a feeling the words 'professional help' had been hovering just out of view, but now was not the time for any of that nonsense. He'd be fine, with Oliver's support he felt like he could take on almost anything. Perhaps anything but public opinion of the nature of that support.

XXXXXXX

Druscilla Thornfield had had a hell of a day. Between the pounding withdrawal headache, and the growing lump from where her head had hit the floor when she'd been taken down in front of a room full of people, she'd not been in the best mood even before tales of her undignified tumble had done the rounds of the Ministry. She had buried herself in her work and by half past seven she was definitely flagging.

Glancing at her watch though she realised that the perk of being at the office so late was that all obstacles between her and the, admittedly terrible, canteen coffee should have been removed.

The ministry canteen was usually empty this late in the evening, indeed most of the Ministry would have gone home by now, she hadn't counted of course on her workaholic assistant in charge of International Magical Relations and, currently, Keeping Druscilla Off The Coffee. She could have thrown her mug at the back of his head in frustration, didn't he have a home to go to? He hadn't noticed her yet though, maybe she could just sneak out, and he'd never know. This plan was foiled by a particularly creaky floorboard and Percy turned from where he was...making coffee.

They looked at each other with matching guilty expressions. "Ok," Druscilla started, "We can either both pretend we're here getting coffee for other people, in a mostly empty building, or we can admit it's for us and that we have a problem and may need to kick this addiction, or we can admit it's for us and that we're both very stressed right now and that everyone relies on something and the Ministry should probably just be grateful we're not raging alcoholics."

Percy smiled tiredly and poured them both a cup. "You win, I can't cope without it either and maybe when all this is over we should try to cut down a little but now is probably not the right time."

They both took a sip of their coffee and visibly relaxed. Druscilla plopped down into a nearby chair and gestured for Percy to join her.

"It's been a hell of a day," she groaned.

Looking at her, Percy could see for once how tired she was. Her hair had begun the day in a state of stylish disarray only to descend into a tangled mass of curls, rendering the simple silver clasp that had been holding it up invisible amongst the mess. There was no trace of the lipstick she'd been wearing earlier and for once Percy didn't think that was because it had wound up being worn by somebody else. Much as he wanted to broach the subject of the Unforgivables, the sight of her with her eyes closed, head thrown back against a cushion, and shoes kicked off somewhere under the table, was a level of casual intimacy that made it difficult. Instead he commented in as neutral a tone as he could manage. "I heard you had an interesting training session with the Aurors this afternoon."

She didn't open her eyes but responded wryly, "Yes that story does seem to have done the rounds."

Percy couldn't quite hide his smile. "People are enjoying the tale."

Pacified with caffeine, Druscilla found she really didn't care anymore. "Let them laugh. I'd like to see any of them take on Kingsley and do any better."

"I doubt they could," Percy responded loyally. He took a deep breath. "Can I speak with you about something?"

"Of course," Druscilla had wondered how long it would take him to bring up his obvious discomfort at the morning's announcement.

"The Unforgivables, do you really think they're ever justified?"

She sat up and bestowed him with her full attention before answering carefully. "I don't believe in absolutes, Percy. These people need to be stopped."

"And you don't think that in fighting them..."

She cut across him abruptly, "That in fighting monsters we should look to it that we don't become them?" she sighed tiredly. "I know. I don't like this either, I hope you realise."

"Then why do you support it?"

"Because Kingsley's right, at least I think he is. We ask a lot of those men and women and we're about to ask even more. Some of them are going to die, Percy. They're going to go in there and some of them won't come back out. I'll be damned before I send them in without giving them every weapon I can to arm themselves with."

He was quiet for a long moment, staring thoughtfully into his coffee. "Why didn't you say that to the Order?"

"It's not my job to justify the Ministry's decisions. We don't comment on decisions regarding security, we certainly don't announce to anyone that the Aurors are being sent in somewhere they're not all coming back from when they're not yet aware of it themselves. They think they're readying for a training exercise, doubtless some of them are smart enough to have seen through that but officially that's what's going on. They're going to find out as late as possible what's really happening and you know what happens then?"

"They'll go in anyway?" It wasn't really a question.

"Yeah, they'll go in anyway, because that's what they're trained to do. And they're really very good."

It took another long moment of quiet before Percy felt ready to ask, "Why didn't you tell me anything about this?"

She cocked an eyebrow, "Are you going to get insulted if I say discussions were taking place somewhat above your pay grade?"

"I'm a Head of Department, just like Auror Shacklebolt." There was just enough of a hint of the old pomposity in Percy's voice to make Druscilla take a hasty swallow of her coffee in order to repress an amused smile.

"The head of the Aurors has always been the most senior position of all the department heads and I have never consulted the department heads as a matter of routine, I discuss with them what affects them or what I think they can offer a valuable insight into."

Percy was undeterred. "I know that, but you don't treat me like department head at all."

"You don't act like one."

He'd expected her to argue, to offer false reassurances and move on, her bluntness had caught him off guard. "I'm sorry?"

"You don't act like one. You run around after me and pick up my problems and make (or don't make) my coffee."

"That's what you tell me to do." Percy sounded a little lost at the notion that following Druscilla's many, and occasionally awkward, instructions was not actually getting him anywhere.

"Yes," she agreed. "You know I put you where you are so I could keep control of that department. When this is over I have a feeling we're going to need to have a conversation about that."

He wasn't at all sure he liked the appraising look she was giving him but he responded firmly. "Yes, I think we should."

Surprisingly she smiled at him. "But that's a conversation for another day. Why are you even still here at this hour?"

"It's quiet, it's the best time to get things done."

Thankfully she didn't press the issue, he had no desire to tell her it was because he'd spent his afternoon doing very little in the way of Ministry work. "Much as I agree with that, you look exhausted, you should go home. Don't you have anything better to be doing?"

Percy glanced at his wristwatch, "I was hoping to go and see Oliver but it is getting late."

"Go and see him," she insisted. "I'm sure he won't care what time it is."

He stood and stretched, suppressing a yawn. "What about you? You should go home as well."

"Soon," she promised, slipping her shoes back on and following him to the lift. "I need to talk to Cornelius first."

"He's still here?"

"Yes, ineffectual he may often be but at least he's presently being ineffectual in his office. I have to say though I think he just feels safer here, surrounded by Ministry security, than he does at home despite the assurances the Aurors have offered him and his family."

"Why do you need to see him at this hour?" Percy's curiosity was peaked by the clandestine element of such a late night meeting.

She shook her head, "Not yet." She caught sight of the suspicion on his face and insisted, "I'll tell you tomorrow if it comes to anything. Kingsley and I have been talking and we need to bring Fudge in before I take this any further."

Percy raised his eyebrows curiously, "Sounds serious."

"Maybe. Go home to Oliver. I need to get back upstairs." She patted his cheek in an almost maternal fashion, "And don't think you're completely forgiven for all this coffee crap." She winked, spun on her expensive looking designer heel, and stalked away with a firm grip on her coffee cup.

XXXXXXX

A/N: This was another difficult one, the chapter refused to come together and then things that had never been planned ended up in it and I just hope it all hung together properly in the end. Do let me know what you thought. No promises on a date for the next chapter but I shall do my best. Thanks for reading. :)