A Subtle Change

by Weasleylover1

Sequel to 'What You Left Behind'. A view of the wizarding world as it heads into war, with relationships tested to the limits and the guarantee that everything will subtly change from now on.

32. Chapter 32

A/N: Right, this is again much delayed, I won't bore you with excuses but I've had a rather rough year and been quite unwell hoever I am hopefully doing better now so here we go!

Review Responses:

Fai's smile: Thank you for the kind review, Snape and McGonagall are actually probably my favourite thing (though so so hard to write!) and so there's a little bit more of them here, along with more of Dru and Remus being cute. I'm so glad you thought Dumbledore was badass, the possession thing was an idea from many many years ago when I started this story and I was a bit nervous about actuallly putting it out there. :)

jadely31: You are always SO understanding of my terrible update rate! Thanks so much for your patience! You'll get to see more of where Snape and McGonagall are going, I love the two of them. Bill had been intended to die for a long time but when I finally got to it I felt really bad. Few more chapters to go yet, this lot are still set on messing things up as they all try to deal with what's happened. Hope you enjoy! :)

Pheonixx Rising: I've got such a soft spot for Charlie Weasley myself and I know what you mean about not wanting to abandon your loved ones. When my grandmother died I didn't want to leave the room becasue I knew that, once I did, that was it, she was gone. I wanted the Weasleys to show that people respond to grief in very different ways, in fact hopefully this chapter does that on a wider scale showing people's response to the events being a bit mixed. But yes, Voldemort is finally gone! :)

A Subtle Change

Chapter 32

"Did you sleep at all?"

Only years of becoming accustomed to Severus' ability to appear silently out of the shadows stopped Minerva McGonagall from visibly jumping. As it was, in her sleep-deprived state, she found her hand clenching her wand before she realised it was her friend speaking. If he noticed, he was too kind to mention it.

"No." She sighed, in truth she'd left tired behind hours before. "I've been speaking with the Minister since 5am. Did you get any sleep?"

"No. I headed up here about an hour ago to see if Poppy needed any help. I assumed you would come up here before the staff meeting." Which didn't quite explain how he'd known to come out into the corridor just as she was approaching, but she'd long ago learnt that with Severus sometimes you just had to accept the uncanny.

"I didn't think Poppy would be willing to leave the ward this morning so I wanted to speak with her first."

"I'll wait for you while you do." Severus accompanied her into the hospital wing.

Poppy Pomfrey rose wearily from beside Tonks' bed at the sight of them.

"Good morning, Poppy." Minerva managed a tired smile. "How is she?"

"Alive. Which, I'll be honest, is better than I expected for a brief period in the early hours." The school nurse looked weary beyond words but her attention never strayed far from her patient even as she spoke to Minerva. "She's had a bad night, I thought we were going to lose her around three o'clock but she seems to have stabilised."

It seemed so wrong to see the lively Tonks lying so still and grey. "And the children?" Minerva glanced down the other end of the ward where there were three clearly occupied beds.

"Sleeping. Thank goodness."

Small mercies. "I was hoping we could catch up before I brief the rest of the staff?"

Poppy looked anxiously at Tonks.

"I'll monitor her." Severus saw the nurse's reluctance to leave her patient. "Go and have a cup of tea."

"Thank you, Severus." Poppy gave him a weak but grateful smile.

Minerva took her arm and guided her gently towards her office, "Come on, I think we could both use a cup of tea."

Severus watched the two women leave and took the vacated chair beside Tonks' bed, glancing around the ward. Aside from the young woman, the only people to have spent the night in the hospital wing were Potter, Granger and Neville Longbottom. Potter was sleeping fitfully down the opposite end, thrashing occasionally. Hermione Granger was in the next bed sleeping far more peacefully. Neville had still been awake and trying to help when Severus had arrived. Poppy had apparently needed his help with Tonks several times during the night, the boy had been exhausted by the time the potions master had appeared and Poppy had finally managed to convince him to go to sleep. He was curled up in the bed next to Hermione's, snoring gently with the covers over his head.

Severus checked the monitoring spell on Tonks. She was indeed stable and he agreed with the assessment Poppy had made of her that, given time, she should recover. He was grateful none of the sleeping patients awoke before Minerva returned with the nurse, who resumed her chair at Tonks' bedside and assured them a healer from St Mungo's would be there within the hour to look over Tonks and allow Poppy to get some rest.

Minerva patted Poppy on the shoulder and made her promise that she'd go to bed once the healer arrived. "Severus, can we talk in my office before the briefing?"

"Of course." He offered his arm to his weary friend and she took it gratefully, allowing herself to lean on him a little as they made their way to her office. Once inside Severus conjured a pot of strong, aromatic coffee and pressed a cup into Minerva's cold hands.

"Thank you." She sighed, "Like I said, I spoke with Fudge. We seem to have finally agreed on how we're handling this. I've put a spell on the Owlery, the last thing we need is anyone receiving any mail about what happened before we get chance to speak to them. Or worse, get a copy of the early edition of the Daily Prophet!"

"How is this morning's Prophet?"

"See for yourself," she passed a copy across the desk to him.

YOU-KNOW-WHO DEFEATED! THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED SAFE!

Severus snorted and tossed the paper back down on the desk, there was only so much drivel he was willing to cope with at this hour of the morning.

"The Ministry sent them a brief statement first thing and they've called a full press conference for 3 o'clock this afternoon. We need to speak to the students as soon as possible."

"We should probably take one or two of them aside and speak to them privately first." Severus' mind hadn't strayed far from Draco since he'd returned to Hogwarts, dreading what came next.

"Yes, I'm conscious of the fact that it's mostly your house involved."

Isn't it always, Severus felt a surge of bitterness, an urge to point out that no matter what else they were they were still children. As she continued though his thoughts were scattered by her words.

"Do you want me to talk to them? Or even just some of them?"

"You mean Draco."

"If you want me to." The offer to do this most difficult and delicate of tasks was made so easily and disarmingly that he hardly knew how to respond.

Temptation however didn't last long. "No. He deserves to have this come from me. It's the least I can do to look him in the face and tell him the truth." He sighed, "He'll most likely never forgive me for this."

"You don't know that."

"I know him."

"People can change."

"I've been saying that with regards to him for too long."

"Don't give up on him now. He's alone and he's going to need you no matter how angry and betrayed he'll feel. Don't give up, Severus."

Don't give up, she made it sound so easy. In truth he found he'd rather go back to fighting the Dark Lord than break the news to the boy. He'd tried for so long to reach out to him and it felt like, ultimately, he'd failed.

Minerva seemed to sense his discomfort and moved on. "The other thing is the press conference I mentioned, they want a Hogwarts representative to attend."

"You want me to keep an eye on things here while you go?"

"No, I want you to go."

"Me." Severus made no effort to hide his unimpressed expression. "I hardly think I am the ideal choice."

"I disagree. You will not be provoked or intimidated into revealing more than our agreed statement. You will say what you mean to and nothing further. Also I hardly think that even the Prophet's reporters are foolish enough to attempt to follow you back to Hogwarts to pester us all."

"Are you saying you want me to intimidate them into staying away from the school?" Severus was darkly amused and a little pleased.

"I said nothing of the sort." Minerva, even as exhausted as she was, still looked impressively stern. "However, if any of them should express a desire to bother Harry or any other student I am confident you will be able to discourage them." She graced him with a grim smile.

"Understood."

The two of them shared a long look before Minerva sighed and pushed herself to her feet. "We better get to the staffroom."

XXXXXXX

Druscilla emerged reluctantly from her much needed sleep, and even more reluctantly from Remus' arms. All through dressing and downing a desperate coffee she could hardly take eyes from him.

He looked so young asleep. All the cares that had built up over recent months seemed erased and she felt like she was seeing the man as he might have been when he was younger and happier, before Voldemort had further blighted his already difficult life. She shook her head to clear it of such romantic nonsense and chided herself for the uncharacteristic flight of fancy. She could not help however extending a hand to gently push his hair from his face, lingering then to stroke his cheek softly. He remained stubbornly sleeping but brought a delighted smile to her lips by nuzzling against her hand like a cat.

"Oh, you're not helping my resolve to go and do what needs to be done at all!" she whispered, drawing away before she forgot herself entirely and crawled back into bed with him.

XXXXXXX

Percy's sleep had been less restful and he awoke too warm to be truly comfortable. There was an arm wrapped loosely around his waist and a by now familiar body pressed against his own.

Guilt flared sharply. When he'd asked Oliver to take him home with him it had been with the idea of finding some peace. He'd wanted nothing more than to sleep and have Oliver within reach. Or he'd thought he had. Once in bed sleep had eluded both of them until, clinging to each other, they'd resorted to other ways to exhaust themselves and attempt to find and offer comfort. Percy sat up, detaching himself carefully from Oliver, and looked down at the sleeping man in a confused mix of emotions that all felt somehow distant, as if they weren't his.

Quietly he climbed out of bed, picked up his clothes and retreated to the shower. The hot, near scalding, water felt right against his skin. He washed quickly and debated for a moment over putting back on the previous day's clothes but the idea of going back to Grimmauld Place was problematic. Once there he'd be likely to end up remaining. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his family, but there were things he felt he had to do first. There was also a lingering guilt he couldn't rid himself of that persuaded him that the Ministry was the best place for him. He could bury himself in his work and avoid dwelling on the fact that only hours after his brother's death, and with his mother in hospital, he had abandoned his family to go to bed with his boyfriend.

Oliver would probably have at least been amused to learn that Percy even thought in euphemisms.

XXXXXXX

Pansy Parkinson was an early riser; looking perfect didn't just happen, you had to willing to put in the time. Selecting the perfectly pressed uniform robes, the perfect (just subtle enough to be passed over by her teacher's eyes) make up, and of course the perfect hair. Vanity had her sitting before the mirror for the better part of an hour on a normal day.

As she fussed with hair serum and combs, she heard footsteps approaching. "House elf brought you this," Millicent Bullstrode stuck a scrap of folded parchment into Pansy's hand. "Snape wants to see you." She'd clearly read the message before passing it on. "What have you done?"

Pansy glanced up from doing her hair to take the note and shrugged dismissively. "God knows, perhaps McGonagall's complained about the length of my skirt again." Privately she thought it much more likely McGonagall had noticed her last homework assignment wasn't in her handwriting. Sighing she flicked her wand at her hair to finish it off, enjoying Millicent's envious look as it fell in glossy waves down her back. "Better go face the music."

The common room seemed busier than usual and Pansy noticed there were a few other people holding notes like her own. It took a moment to see the connection, but as soon as she had her stomach clenched with foreboding.

Crabbe, Goyle, Theodore Nott, Alice Hob, Esther Gibbons, Draco, and herself. There was really only one thing they all had in common. "What's going on?" she asked.

"We don't know." It was unusual for Theodore to be more talkative than Draco but her boyfriend was uncharacteristically silent. "What time did you get?"

"Time?" Theodore's question confused her.

"We all got told to go see Snape at a different time, what's yours?" That might well be the longest sentence Theodore had ever addressed to her.

She looked again at the parchment in her hands, reading it properly this time. "Quarter to eight."

"You're after me," Draco finally spoke. "I appear to be first."

"Well of course you are," Theodore spoke up drily, "You are his favourite." Unless Pansy was much mistaken, Nott was trying in his own way to be reassuring. Given his usual demeanour that was more alarming than anything else.

"Piss off!" Draco snapped.

"The morning edition of the Prophet hasn't come."

Pansy, Draco, Theodore, Crabbe, Goyle and Alice Hob turned to look at Esther Gibbons. Not one of them had spoken a word to the seventh former all year. She had bid her family goodbye on Platform 9¾ and hidden away with a group of Hufflepuffs on the train, before marching straight into Dumbledore's office upon arriving at the school. She had made her choice and they had treated her accordingly.

"A house elf usually brings it to me first thing, this morning they didn't." They all shared a significant look and, just for a moment, Esther was one of them again, her treachery forgotten in shared concern.

"Well we're not going to find out anything standing around here." Nott's comment seemed clearly aimed at Draco.

"I'll go with you," Pansy offered immediately. "I'm right after you anyway."

Draco just shrugged, but the fact that he let her follow him told her she'd done the right thing. He might not be demonstrative when he was pleased but Draco was at least certain to let people know when he wasn't.

XXXXXXX

Percy had always liked the Ministry best early in the mornings and late at night. He liked quiet and calm, which the Ministry rarely was between nine and five. The silent empty corridors soothed him, even on mornings like this. He divested himself of his cloak and wandered over to Thornfield's office.

He should have known she'd be in, but given the early hour he'd not actually been expecting her quite yet. He'd intended to check what had landed on her desk during the night and try to create some kind of order for her to come in to. However she'd actually beaten him to the office. By the piles of parchment surrounding her it seemed like she'd been there for some time.

Percy paused in the open doorway and decided to make himself known. "Did you go home last night?" A daft question, he realised. She hadn't been wearing those clothes the last time he'd seen her and they didn't seem of the kind that she kept stashed in the office in case of emergencies.

His boss looked up in clear surprise. "Percy, what are you doing here? I didn't expect you in today."

He shrugged, feeling lost, and she leapt up and crossed to the doorway, taking his arm and leading him to a comfortable chair. "I just needed to be doing something," he forced out as the only explanation he had for why he was in the office rather than with his family.

She smiled gently. "I can understand that. I'm meeting Fudge later, do you want to come with me? I expect we're going to be a little thin on the ground here this morning, and likely to stay that way for a couple of days if last time was anything to go by."

He nodded quietly, reminded suddenly that she'd done all of this before. She had seen the same Dark Lord rise and fall twice now. It felt immensely reassuring to remember that he was in the presence of someone who knew how things were supposed to go from here.

"How's your mum?" His boss had apparently come a long way from the days when she'd asked him to send his own sister some flowers in an attempt to impress Remus Lupin.

"She's going to be alright but she needs a course of treatment, she's going to be in St Mungo's for a little while." He tried and failed to fight down a crushing sense of guilt. "I went to Oliver's last night from St Mungo's and I haven't been home." It felt like a confession.

Druscilla of course saw it as nothing of the sort. She gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm and looked him over carefully. "Do you want to go, you don't need to be here you know?"

"Yes, I do," he insisted. "I can't explain."

Even as he couldn't find words to properly explain how he felt, he could see that she understood. He suspected she might be one of the very few people he'd ever met who would. "You don't need to. Not to me."

He smiled gratefully, all the more certain that this was exactly where he needed to be right now.

She gestured at the door with a, luckily empty, mug. "Let's go have a coffee and then we can meet Cornelius. I'll fill you in a bit first, the final reports aren't ready but we've got initial statistics. They're not pretty," she warned.

"Well I hadn't assumed you'd illustrated them."

She smacked him with some parchment but took his impertinent sarcasm in good humour, and hopefully as his way of telling her that he wasn't about to keel over from looking at a casualty list. "Come on, coffee first anyway. Always coffee first."

He followed her obediently in the direction of the nearest kitchen, grateful for her aura of calm competence.

XXXXXXX

"Where is everyone?"

"What?" Draco had never been particularly enamoured of Pansy's non-stop chatter to begin with, but this morning there was a feeling of something wrong deep in his stomach that made it all the more unbearable.

"It's quiet," she insisted. "We haven't seen or heard a student from another house at all, don't you think that's weird?"

"Not really, why would they be in the dungeons?"

"Why couldn't we hear anything when we passed the corridor to the Great Hall, there's normally people at breakfast by now?"

"Will you just stop talking!"

Draco was spared Pansy's answer, likely to have been a no, by the door to Snape's office opening to reveal the potions master. He'd probably heard them rowing.

"Draco." Snape was inscrutable as he'd ever been but Draco thought there was something almost uncomfortable in his posture as he gestured his student inside. "Please come in."

"Yes, sir." Draco exchanged a last quick look with Pansy and did as he was asked.

Severus watched as Pansy loitered down the corridor from his office but closed the door and said nothing. It was probably for the best, Draco was going to need someone to support him, though the chances were he'd be his usual ungrateful self about it.

"Sit down." Had he not been so deeply involved in what he had to tell the boy he'd have offered him some tea, but he knew that the last thing Draco was going to want was comfort from him.

Draco sat obediently. "Is everything alright, sir?"

After years of lying to the face of a homicidal madman, betting his life on his ability to find the right words to keep himself walking a fine line between two sides (both of whom mostly hated him), it seemed ironic to find himself not only scared of a teenage boy but also lost for words. Severus took a deep breath and decided to come to the news from a different angle. "Draco, the Dark Lord has been defeated."

Draco paled further than usual but his first question surprised Severus. "Are you alright? Are they going to try and charge you with anything? Nothing's going to happen to you is it?"

The boy's concern hurt more than any of the vicious words he would later sling at Severus could ever have the ability to. "No. Nothing like that's going to happen to me."

Draco remained silent, not asking the question Severus expected him to. Why wasn't he asking about his parents?

The boy stood up. "Can I go then, sir?"

Severus saw the hope in his eyes, the idea that if he could just get out of that room without hearing any bad news then there wouldn't be any. He wasn't asking the question because he was too scared of the answer.

Severus had never wanted children, had never in all his years of teaching found it in him to do much more than tolerate them, but something unknown and unreasonable (probably lingering memories of a fondness for the boy's parents that they had never fully merited) had left him oddly attached to Draco ever since his birth. He'd never enjoyed seeing the boy disappointed or in pain, and knowing he was now the cause of it cut deeply. "Draco, I'm sorry," and, god help him, he found he really was sorry, "But your parents were involved in what happened."

The boy sat down again, heavily. "Mum was there?"

Draco's voice was very quiet and registered clear surprise about his mother. Narcissa had never shown a great deal of interest in the Death Eaters and the boy knew it. Severus had been horrified to find her there, he knew that any threat to Lucius she would meet head on while she still had breath in her body. In a grim way though he couldn't help but think she'd have much preferred to die with her husband than to live without him. "Yes, she'd come to see your father."

Draco opened his mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it.

"Draco," this was turning out to be even harder than he'd thought. "They were both killed in the fighting that broke out."

The boy stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "No." The word came out as a tortured gulp, a denial and a plea all at once, head still shaking.

"I'm sorry." How many pointless apologies was he intending to make, Severus internally scolded himself. 'Sorry' wasn't going to fix anything and it certainly wasn't going to finish what needed to be said.

Draco gasped for air suddenly as though deprived of oxygen. His eyes went to his head of house as though seeking comfort but Severus ploughed on.

"Draco, the reason nothing is going to happen to me is that though I was a Death Eater, I've been passing information to Dumbledore for many years now, in fact since not long after you were born."

The boy's expression suggested things weren't sinking in. Several long moments passed before Draco looked at him again, a slow, ugly, dawning of understanding beginning to filter across his face. "You were a traitor." His voice sounded confused at first, as though there'd never been any circumstance where he could have conceived of saying that, but it veered sharply into a cold anger eerily reminiscent of Lucius. "You're not telling me my parents are dead, you're telling me you were fighting on the side of the people who killed them!"

"Yes, I am." No point in trying to sugar coat the truth.

"You…" Draco didn't seem to be able to come up with a word foul enough, "I trusted you!"

"Draco…"

"They trusted you!" Draco cut across him in a pained shout that Severus knew had probably carried across half the dungeon. "They trusted you and you helped the people who killed them!"

There was a knock at the door and it was hesitantly swung open by a nervous looking Pansy Parkinson, who knew better than to interrupt her professor. "I'm sorry but I heard shouting, is everything alright, sir?"

One look at her boyfriend informed Pansy that things were not at all alright. Draco leapt from the chair and crossed the room to her. "Why don't you tell her, sir," he poured enough venom into the word to make it devoid of all respect or courtesy.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Pansy placed a hand on his arm, only to be shaken off.

"What's wrong?! Well it seems we picked the losing side." Pansy paled and began to speak but Draco wasn't finished. "Well that is we did, as in you and I. Our revered head of house knew which side his bloody bread was buttered though!"

Pansy's eyes narrowed, though it seemed more in confusion than anger, "What do you mean?"

"The Dark Lord's fallen, my parents are dead and he's a traitor! He's been passing information to Dumbledore for years!"

Pansy shook her head as though to clear it. "What?" she asked weakly.

"Are you deaf or just stupid?!" Draco advanced on her with his hands balled up and for a moment Severus thought he was going to have to step in but the boy stilled himself a couple of feet from his girlfriend.

Pansy had recoiled as Draco snapped at her. She looked desperately towards her head of house, her eyes pleading with him to say this was someone's idea of a very tasteless joke.

Ignoring Pansy entirely now, Draco gave his professor one last look of disgust and stormed from the office, slamming the door behind him.

"Miss Parkinson," Severus sighed, "Your parents are physically fine but they were apprehended by the Aurors and will stand trial along with the other captured Death Eaters."

"You did this?!" Pansy sounded disbelieving and for a moment Severus had some sympathy with Draco's anger at her, she just seemed completely incapable of taking the news in.

"What Mr Malfoy told you was true."

The girl looked lost. "You betrayed us." Her tone was so quiet Severus would not have caught it if she hadn't said exactly what he had expected to hear. She turned towards the door and walked out of the office, refusing to acknowledge him when he tried to call her back.

XXXXXXX

Remus slept late and woke in a bed far too large and comfortable to be his own. The pillow he was lying on smelled of Druscilla's perfume and he realised that some time after she had left he had migrated to her side of the bed. Who else, he thought to himself, had he ever known who would don perfume to go into battle.

There was a note lying on the bedside table with his name hurriedly scrawled across it in that strange elegant yet messy handwriting he'd recognised Druscilla for before he'd even known what she looked like.

Forgive me, duty called. Should this continue it's something you'll have to get used to. Don't be angry, or if you must be let it be in that sexy, intense way of yours that I like. Help yourself to the bathroom/kitchen (though there's not a lot of food in, you may need to cut the mould off the bread).

Meet me at my office at 1pm and we'll have lunch.

Dru X

Despite Druscilla's predictions of anger, Remus smiled. Typical Dru, he thought, even this morning she couldn't be serious. But then had she been anyone else she could not have exerted such a powerful hold on his usually guarded affections.

Finding his muscles still aching from the previous day's fighting and also, he thought with a small smile, possibly from the previous night, Remus wandered into Druscilla's elegant, modern bathroom and turned on the taps. Whilst his bath ran, Remus made a cup of tea and contemplated the place Druscilla called home.

After her clear delight at Grimmauld Place, the last thing he would have expected was this sleek modern apartment. It was spacious and comfortable but it seemed to lack the stamp of her personality, as though this was somewhere she used to sleep rather than somewhere she really lived. The most personal item on display (discounting her hastily discarded clothes from the previous day that still littered the floor) was a silver framed photograph of a girl and boy in Hogwarts robes.

The girl looked to be around sixteen, long dark curls tumbled around her face, a playful smile looking almost exactly like the one he still saw on Dru when she'd just said something scandalous or provocative. The boy was shorter, younger, around twelve or thirteen, sandy hair, freckles, and a smile as mischievous as Druscilla's. He seemed almost entirely in contrast with her, with his boyish looks and a Hufflepuff scarf trailing almost to the floor, but something about the eyes suggested that Remus was looking at the brother she had lost.

The picture was frozen, like a muggle photo, and Remus had to resist the urge to pick it up and shake it and see if he could make them move. He assumed that this was easier for her to look at; there were no pictures of the rest of her family on display at all.

XXXXXXX

The firecall was answered within seconds, far faster than Percy had anticipated, especially at that time of the morning. As Ron's pale freckled face greeted him, he struggled momentarily for the right words, he'd rehearsed this conversation 4 times before making the call (meaning he was now late for the meeting Thornfield had invited him to join with the Minister before he'd even begun) and still he felt wrong-footed as always.

"Perce, where are you?" The tone wasn't accusative, merely tired and a little confused.

"I'm in the Ministry." He hadn't expected Ron, he'd thought his father or Charlie would have responded.

"Oh. I thought you might be St Mungo's." That explained the quick response to the call.

"Is there any news on Mum?" Percy was almost afraid to ask.

Ron shook his head. "No, we've heard nothing from them. We're heading over there soon. Will we see you there?"

Percy hesitated. "Later. Listen, I can't talk, things are mad here, I just wanted to see how everyone was."

"If you'd stuck around for breakfast you might have seen for yourself."

Percy wondered if his expression looked as much like he'd just taken a punch to the stomach as it felt like. Ron groaned and swiped a hand over his face. "Sorry, I'm tired, I didn't mean that. I imagine the world's going to hell this morning and I suppose you need to be...wherever you need to be." He sounded too tired to care where his brother was or what he was doing. "Have you got any news from Hogwarts about Harry?"

Percy hadn't asked and he was terribly afraid that also showed on his face. "I'm sure we'd have heard if there was anything to hear."

"Right. Well I'll let you go."

"Right." Percy didn't know what else he could say to that.

Ron surprised him by not severing the call. "Our firecalls are a bit rubbish aren't they?"

Percy was pulled inexorably back to the awkward, stilted conversation they'd had only two nights ago...how in the world was it only two nights? It felt like at least two lifetimes. "Ron..." He trailed off, as ever he had nothing to say when it counted.

Ron however, more than any of his other siblings, had always shared something of his inability with expressing his feelings. The younger redhead gave a snort of fond annoyance, and perhaps, just perhaps, understanding. "Go administrate the world. Whatever needs doing, you'll find a way to do it I'm sure."

The words rang in Percy's ears as he raced desperately through the Ministry, late for the Minister for the first time in his life but feeling like he'd just, finally, received something of an endorsement from one of his family.

He hit the corridor to the Minister's office at a run, hesitated briefly at the door to the outer office to straighten his tie, knocked and let himself in. The Minister's Junior Assistant was sat at the desk that had once been Percy's, frowning at some paperwork and scribbling notes. He glanced up, frown not faltering for a moment. Upon seeing Percy he stabbed his quill toward the door to the inner office. "Just go straight in." Stephen Meadows had lost his tie at some point during the night and looked like he'd happily commit murder for a cup of coffee and a nap.

Percy gave him a sympathetic smile, which went unacknowledged and probably unnoticed, and hurried in to the Minister's office. He entered in time to hear Fudge exclaim angrily. "Where is everyone today?"

Percy looked a tad sheepish, "I'm sorry I'm late."

"We're not talking about late," Druscilla defended him before Fudge could say any more. "We're talking about the fact some people don't seem to be here at all! I didn't expect you to come in, Percy, and the same goes for anyone else in your situation but that does not account for half the bloody Ministry!" Druscilla had never understood a less than total commitment to the Ministry and normally Percy understood her perfectly, but today her attitude seemed almost as misplaced as the Minister's anger.

"It certainly doesn't," Fudge looked tired, "Most people seem to have taken this as an excuse for an impromptu holiday."

"You look exhausted, Cornelius," Druscilla observed. "Go home, I can handle things from here."

"I am still the Minister for Magic and I think you had a rather harder night than I did."

"I've slept since then, you haven't." Druscilla said simply, "I meant what I said earlier, no politics today, just go and get some sleep. Come back this afternoon and do the press briefing with me and the Hogwarts rep, whoever that's going to be."

"They haven't confirmed yet?"

"No, I had assumed it would be Minerva but she may not want to leave the school at the moment even for a short time so maybe Severus will come."

Fudge raised his eyebrows, "Well I just hope she's vetted anything he's going to say."

"Not sure he'd listen if she tried," Druscilla grinned, "But if there's anyone he will listen to she's our best hope."

Fudge grunted, "Right, what time are the press arriving?"

"3 o'clock, we'll have a meeting between us and whoever else turns up at 2 to make sure we're going to be organised about this."

"Very well, I'm going to go and grab a couple of hours sleep." He sighed and looked Drusilla straight in the eye before saying, "I might be getting too old for this job."

She smiled a little, "You're not done in yet, Cornelius."

"It's a tougher job than people realise you know." For once it didn't seem like Fudge was looking for excuses or sympathy but was offering a warning. "You need to be very sure you want it."

She rose to her feet and nodded in clear understanding. "I know."

Percy almost had to be ushered out of the room by his boss, such was his astonishment. He waited until the door was closed and they were well away from Meadows' hearing range before giving voice to his thoughts.

"Did he just say what I think he did?"

Thornfield gave a tense smile. "He's stepping down, we talked about it earlier this morning but I think it's been on his mind rather longer than that. Not a word to anyone yet though, he's still our figurehead for the moment. After last night he deserves to finish his career with dignity and at his own pace."

"And you...?"

She sighed. "Am sure of what I want, I have been for a long time. I know what I'm getting into."

XXXXXXX

Oliver woke up to a cold and empty bed, Percy had clearly been up for some time. Grabbing a dressing gown, Oliver made a quick search of the flat expecting to find either his boyfriend or a note but finding nothing but a vaguely damp towel in the bathroom to suggest Percy had ever even been there. He'd probably been foolish to expect anything else, Percy wasn't always the most considerate of those around him, you just had to remember that it didn't mean that he didn't care.

Oliver had at least hoped for a quiet day after that, wanting desperately a chance to get his head together. No such luck, instead he found himself, for the second time in twenty four hours, in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Steeling himself, he approached the nearest member of staff on the Intensive Care Unit. "Hi, I got an owl asking me to come to the hospital immediately, then the receptionist at the main desk sent me up here. What's the problem?"

The woman looked tired and harassed and like she couldn't care less what the problem was unless he was her patient. "Name?"

"Oliver Wood."

It took a moment but recognition dawned on her. "Oh yes, you're expected, speak with Dr Richards over there." She gestured to a man making notes on a clipboard and wandered off before he could question her further about why exactly he was expected.

In all honesty he'd been fighting panic since the moment the owl had arrived with its short and to the point message 'Please report to St Mungos' at your earliest convenience'. Thoughts that the young healer from last night had found something more sinister on the scans that she'd made of him, that someone he cared for had been brought in, that something had happened to Percy somehow, had pursued him all the way to the hospital and through the myriad of unhelpful staff that had sent him from one to another since his arrival a good quarter of an hour earlier. It took every last ounce of Oliver's ingrained good manners not to shout at the grey haired man he'd been directed to but instead resign himself to further polite enquiry.

"Hello, Dr Richards? I'm Oliver Wood."

If the man noticed the slightly forced nature of Oliver's smile, or the tightness in his polite tones, he didn't let on. "Ah, the young medic from the battle." The older man greeted Oliver with a warm handshake. "I've been hearing good things about you. There's a couple of patients wouldn't be here at all without your intervention."

Surprised by the direction of the conversation, Oliver hardly knew what to say. "I didn't do much."

"You did enough. However, I'm afraid it's a less positive outcome I wanted to speak with you about. There was a young Auror you treated, name was Paul Gregson, you got him to us but he didn't make it I'm afraid."

Oliver nodded, "Yeah I remember." He particularly remembered the young man's blood staining his robes and the rictus of pain on what must once have been a handsome face. Bellatrix Lestrange had all but gutted the man with her knife, the same one she'd stabbed Tonks with. Following Madame Pomfrey's instructions, Oliver had rushed him to St Mungos but he'd known even as he was doing it that no one was going to recover from injuries like that.

The Healer's voice brought him back to the moment. "His parents are here to sign the paperwork to have his body released. They want to speak to the man who tried to save their son."

Oliver hesitated, "I...That's why you asked me to come here?"

"Well of course, what did you think?"

What hadn't he thought between home and here? Oliver's head span and he wanted nothing more than to sit down somewhere far away and gather his scattered thoughts. "I don't know...there's really nothing I can tell them."

The healer patted his shoulder in slightly patronising reassurance. "They just want to speak to you, it's not uncommon, they want some sense of closure. Just be kind, try and assure them it was quick and painless if you can, and tell them he was brave."

"He was terrified and he was crying with pain."

"Yes well, don't tell them that. There are some truths that benefit nobody." The healer's face softened and what Oliver had taken for patronising began to sound more like a tone of fatherly advice. "Say what it takes to make them feel a tiny bit better, make getting through today a little bit easier on them." As he spoke he had gently turned Oliver and walked him to where they could see the young Auror's parents in a nearby waiting room.

Oliver saw a couple in late middle age, the man's face white and bloodless, the woman's stained with tears, huddled together on an uncomfortable looking sofa, abandoned paper cups of tea on the battered coffee table in front of them. Even though they looked nothing like his own parents, he was unable to stop thinking that had last night ended differently it could have been his parents here instead, imploring a tired stranger for some sort of comfort to give them closure, to get them through the day. He couldn't say no, he had no idea what he could say, but he had to try. He nodded helplessly. "Ok."

XXXXXXX

When a mug appeared in her eye line Druscilla considered going against the beliefs of a lifetime and declaring there really was a merciful God and he was in fact on her side.

On looking up though she realised it was less the offering of a merciful god but rather a surprisingly forgiving intern.

"Ellie! I didn't expect to see you..." Druscilla cleared her throat awkwardly, "…ever again." It really was not the day to be dealing with young women she'd hurled coffee at in a fit of what had looked, even to her once she had been caffeinated again, like a fit of childish temper that would have been appalling enough back at school, never mind in the upper echelons of the Ministry.

The young girl managed a nervous smile that seemed to carry some wary but genuine amusement. "I brought you a coffee, real coffee this time."

Despite her awkwardness, Druscilla's gratitude could not have been more genuine. "Thank you." She took the hot beverage gratefully, warming her hands on the mug and savoring the aroma. "This isn't just real coffee," she said in delighted surprise, "This is expensive coffee. I know my coffee and you did not make this from the Ministry's usual supplies."

Ellie's smile lost a lot of its nervousness at Druscilla's gracious acceptance of the drink. "It was Mr. Underwood's idea, he sent me out to Diagon Alley to get the nicest coffee and teas, and hot chocolate I could find. He paid for it all from his own account."

Druscilla looked down at the mug she was still cradling with the care a new mother might bestow upon their firstborn. "I should have thought of that. Tebrin's always been good at looking out for people. What else has he got you doing today?"

"He said to just try and help out wherever, keep bringing people drinks and take any messages or internal packages, given how few staff there are."

Druscilla scribbled something down on a piece of parchment and passed it over to the intern who, on a day when the staff that were there were mostly looking completely done in, looked much less anxious than usual (though that might have been due to going to work for a man who was deeply unlikely to ever throw coffee at her). "That's the address of a fantastic deli, go and sort lunch for everyone, nice sandwiches, baskets of fruit for every office, fancy biscuits or something. Use your own discretion. I think a good lunch is the least everyone here deserves, and by the look of the Auror Office this morning some people are going to need quite a temptation to make them want food. I suppose I'd better pay for this one, charge it to Gringotts account 174."

The girl nodded. "Of course, Professor, that's very good of you."

"Not really and it'll probably look like a stunt but I'm not that concerned about that right now."

The girl smiled sweetly, "Well, I think it's a kind thing to do."

Druscilla gave a brief good natured laugh. "Go on with you, and make sure you help yourself and your insufferably nice boss to some food while you're both busy looking after everyone else."

Ellie nodded earnestly and departed without another word. Druscilla was left to savour her coffee and silently berate herself that she'd not been the one to take action to care for those of the Ministry who had dragged themselves in to work on this most difficult of days.

Thoroughly chastised, she pulled herself together and, deciding that staff welfare needed to start in her own department, went in search of Percy to tell him to go home.

XXXXXXX

Percy had also had a, much less awkward, visit from Ellie and was enjoying a cup of the same aromatic brew as Druscilla when she arrived in his doorway. A tapping on the frame of the open door attracted his attention from the parchment before him to his boss still clutching her own coffee.

Feeling all the better, not only for the coffee but for the thoughtfulness behind it, Percy managed a pretty genuine smile. "Did Ellie come to brave the lion's den then?"

His more relaxed attitude was instantly contagious and his boss smiled back. "Snake's den if you please!"

It was a weak joke but they were both ready to smile at anything this morning and exchanged a brief grin. The lighter mood didn't last long though as Druscilla's ears pricked at the sound of voices in the corridor.

"That sounds like Rashid," she sighed, referring to Kingsley's right hand man and now the de facto Head Auror. "God, I hope nothing else has happened!"

She strode out of the office with Percy at her heels. Stood outside Druscilla's own door was Rashid Chaudry, his arm around a tall, dignified looking woman with large dark eyes which were bloodshot from crying. Percy recognised her immediately from various functions and from the picture on her husband's desk. Angelique Shackleton looked both utterly lost and simultaneously more put together than Percy would have ever thought possible in the circumstances.

"Angie, what are you doing here?" Druscilla's voice was soft and warmer than Percy thought he'd ever heard it. She spent so much time snarking at people, rolling her eyes, teasing in good natured (and not so good natured) fashion, it was strange (and almost unnerving) to see her express such anguished compassion so naturally.

"I..." it was clear the woman hardly knew the answer to that herself. She took a step forward, hesitated, and Druscilla let her stand in silence for a good half minute while she tried to find words. "I'm sorry," she said eventually, "I had to...I've left the girls with my mother, I just..."

'The girls', four and six years old, Kingsley had carried pictures of them everywhere with him, always such a proud father. Percy felt like he'd been punched in the gut, what on earth could anyone say to that? He hesitated, awkward, unsure of how to respond.

Druscilla had no such qualms. "Oh, Angie!" She strode forward and enfolded the lost looking woman in a fierce embrace.

Angelique buried her face in Druscilla's shoulder, the trembling of her body the only clue that she was crying. Percy watched as his boss mumbled reassuring nothings and stroked the woman's back soothingly. He watched as she caught Rashid Chaudhry's eye, they exchanged a nod and he left them to it mouthing a silent 'thank you'.

Suddenly Percy felt like a voyeur for remaining and scuttled back into his office.

XXXXXXX

Remus had wound up firecalling Hogwarts and had been shooed away by a harassed looking McGonagall with strict instructions that she was letting no one but medical staff on to school grounds until late afternoon. She was, as she always had been with him, kind but firm and insisted that there was no change in Harry's condition or prognosis and that the boy was still fast asleep and, given the strength of the potion they'd dosed him with, likely to stay that way for some hours yet.

Having thus rather more time on his hands than he had expected Remus set about Druscilla's kitchen intending to make some lunch to take to meet her. He gave up ten minutes later in disgust, wondering idly if the stove had ever even been used. Whatever Druscilla was living on (aside from coffee, red wine and chocolate bars) she wasn't storing it in her kitchen. A confusing wander around some muggle shops later (he wasn't yet up to facing his own world) he arrived at the Ministry just before 1 o'clock, bearing a bag of food that was promptly searched and almost confiscated by a very serious and flustered looking young Auror on the front desk, who looked like he'd not eaten all morning. Remus managed to persuade the young man he was not there to assassinate anyone, he was actually expected, and no he was not delivering lunch to anyone other than Druscilla. In the end he left a cupcake on the desk when the man wasn't looking, hoping it might improve the poor bloke's day.

Percy met him at the lift looking tired and wan but waved off all attempts at conversation by talking non-stop to Druscilla's doorway about absolutely nothing. Remus was on the verge of giving him a cupcake as well (though he wasn't sure Druscilla would appreciate it if he gave away her dessert as well as his own) when Percy swung open the office door and ushered him inside.

Druscilla was curled in an armchair by the window, shoes (sensible yet stylish flat soled boots) discarded on the floor beside her. She was wrapped in a comfortably aged and soft looking grey cardigan, belted at her waist with a fraying wool belt tightly fastened. Her only jewellery a simple leather strapped wristwatch and not a trace of make up on her handsome features but yet that same energy he had first recognised in her face leant it the same animation. He suddenly felt that she had never looked so beautiful.

She'd looked up with a frown as the door opened and Remus proffered the bag of food in hopes of placating any annoyance at his interruption. "I brought lunch with me, I didn't think you'd want to go out today."

He needn't have worried about being unwelcome; she smiled in delight. "Remus, you're wonderful!"

Percy prepared to make a tactful withdrawal. "I'll try and make sure no one disturbs you for the next hour or so, Professor."

"An hour? He's got a good opinion of your stamina." She winked at Remus but her heart didn't seem to be in the joke. It sounded rather more like someone on autopilot, churning out what they might normally say on a day when the world hadn't just lurched beneath them all.

Percy still blushed at the comment though and hastily backed out the office, leaving them alone together.

Remus set the bag down on the table and bent to kiss her, a little awkwardly. She pulled away and for a moment his heart dropped. "Hold that thought." She banished the papers she'd been reading to her desk and stood up to greet him properly, slipped her arms around him, ("That's better,") and kissed him softly, one hand wandering to find his and squeeze it affectionately.

His smile was a little bashful and he got the sense that her dark eyes contained a hint of laughter at his expense. "Sit," she smiled, cast a drying charm over his rain damp clothes and hair. "I'm afraid I don't have long and I've not eaten for hours. What did you bring me?"

He chuckled and opened the bag, unpacking sandwiches and cake. "You know, you didn't really have any food in your kitchen."

"I don't eat at home much." She ignored the sandwich and went straight for the remaining cupcake with a sigh of pleasure. "Oh, you are a gem!"

Remus resisted the urge to lecture her about eating dessert first.

"How's Harry, have you seen him?"

He was aware that there was probably a fair amount of politics involved in her asking that question, but knew her well enough now to believe that even if she felt nothing beyond a vague sympathy for Harry himself she genuinely cared for Remus' own sake. It was enough. "No. Hogwarts aren't letting anyone in until later this afternoon, but I'm told he's still asleep. I'll go and see him later."

"I'd say give him my best, but it might start looking like I was after his endorsement one day."

"You mean you wouldn't be?"

She seemed to consider this seriously for a moment. "To be blunt, I've never needed any man's endorsement to get my way, and if I get desperate enough to pester a likely traumatised teenager then I won't deserve his endorsement anyway."

He smiled and took her hand, seeing in her remark not the bluntness of 'likely traumatised' but the acknowledgement of how much Harry had been through in a way that so few people seemed to understand. "Well, if you were looking for endorsements you'd have mine."

She gave an enigmatic smile over the top of the fast disappearing muffin. He wondered briefly what real future he could possibly have with this high-achieving, ambitious woman. If she really was on the road to finally challenging Fudge, his endorsement could really only hold her back. He pushed the thought away quickly, today was not a day to look for more things to be unhappy about.

"When are you going to Hogwarts?" she asked. "I probably won't finish up here until late but if you wanted to come over to the flat you'd be more than welcome."

He wasn't completely sure about the sincerity of the invitation, it was hard to be sure of her intentions, but at that moment she started licking icing off her fingers and his train of thought derailed slightly. "Alright. I said I'd go to Hogwarts some time after four, and I'll probably spend a few hours there if Harry's up to company."

"I'm sure he'll be very glad to see you. I have a press briefing at 2pm, and I confess I'm not really looking forward to it. There's something about the celebrations that have never sat well with me. This isn't the end of anything, we're still mired in prejudice and ill-feeling. It's going to be a long road to piecing our society back together."

XXXXXXX

Percy was grateful for Remus' arrival for a number of reasons. He was genuinely pleased to see the good effect the man instantly had on his boss, and just as grateful that his presence allowed Percy to dodge any urging to eat lunch that Thornfield had been almost certain to start on. Lunch was as appealing as breakfast had been and he made do with a cup of tea.

His boss was clearly less happy and together than she was trying to project this morning. Fudge might not see through her, but Percy was starting to. Druscilla Thornfield was faltering, for all her comforting words to him and determination to keep things moving, she seemed to have no heart for celebrating, unlike much of their world this morning. He'd had all kinds of reports crossing his desk about raucous celebrations up and down the country that were risking Muggle discovery, and he was aware the Aurors had had to go and obliviate at least one bus-full of muggle tourists at Stonehenge.

His own lack of enthusiasm for the celebrations was routed in his mother's condition and his ongoing problems with his family, but Thornfield just didn't seem to see much to celebrate at all. She seemed relieved, but not happy.

All that though had changed when he'd led Remus into her office. The transformation was both instant and wonderful; the frown left her face and her features settled back into a calm determination. Percy wasn't blind, he had been aware for some time now that there was something between the two of them but the events of the last twenty four hours seemed to have pushed them closer and the strength she drew from the man was clear. It was enough to put a small smile back on Percy's own face and by the time Remus left his boss looked much more like herself. If she wasn't actually happier then she'd certainly readjusted her mask so that even Percy couldn't tell otherwise, surely a good sign in and of itself. He was never quite comfortable when she wasn't able to at least project a good illusion of easy control.

Now though as she approached him outside the press room and gave him an utterly assured smile he felt his insides relax just a touch. She exuded calm control, and this time it seemed like real calm.

"Go home, you," she ordered affectionately.

Percy smiled weakly, "I'm fine, there's still things that need doing."

"And someone else can do them," she insisted. "I can't tell you how grateful I am that you came in today, but I can take it from here. You need to go and be with your family."

He gave a self-conscious grimace. "Don't be too grateful, work's always been my way of coping."

Druscilla had to hold back a laugh, "I can tell." She chose not to add that she recognised herself in it. "Now go home and stop coping for a while. Come in for a couple of hours tomorrow if you feel up to it."

She watched him leave and took a moment to smooth her hair before entering the briefing room. She'd not bothered with formal robes, today the world could take neat and tidy and be grateful for it. There were days for donning make-up and formalwear like armour, and days when you let the world see that your own skin was the only armour you ever really needed. It was after all merely a matter of confidence, whatever helped you project the illusion of control in a chaotic universe was enough.

XXXXXXX

Percy hesitated on the doorstep in heavy rain for a moment before letting himself in. His knocks had received no reply and he wondered if anyone was home. "Ol?" he called out, wandering into the living room and kitchen and finding both equally deserted.

He stepped into the bathroom and towelled dry his hair, the weather really was turning foul. He sighed and dried off his robes with a charm. As he automatically tidied the towels, a small sound attracted his attention. He headed in the direction of the noise and knocked softly on the closed bedroom door before letting himself in.

Oliver was sat on the edge of the bed but from the rumpled state of the duvet and pillows it was clear he'd been lying down probably only moments before. His eyes were bright with tears and his face was unusually pale and blotchy. Percy stared for an uncomfortably long moment. Oliver always seemed so strong and capable, like nothing ever truly upset him; the sight of him in tears was disconcerting as much as it was painful.

The only other time he could remember Oliver crying was after that dreadful Quidditch match in their last year when it looked like his dreams of winning the quidditch cup and catching the eye of a professional recruiter had been dashed. Percy had found him in their dorm room that afternoon, hidden under a pile of blankets and refusing to go to the common room. The way his voice had cracked on his plea to be left alone had made it clear he'd been crying. At the time Percy had been only too happy to give him the space he'd wanted, it turned out though that years later he had no better idea now of how to deal with a crying Oliver Wood than he'd had then.

"You were crying." Stupid statement, Oliver was presumably well aware of this fact.

Oliver shrugged. "I can't get it all out of my head, sorry."

"Do you want me to go?" Percy felt awkward, with no idea if he was welcome or what on earth he could say.

"What?!" Oliver looked utterly dumbfounded.

Clearly it had not been the right thing to say. "I mean," Percy floundered, gesturing about himself helplessly, before extending a slightly shaky hand and even shakier honesty, "I'm bad at this."

You're not kidding. Oliver was slowly recovering himself, the surprise of Percy showing up unannounced in the middle of the afternoon had helped actually, had shocked the part of himself that had been lost in the misery of the last 24 hours back into the here and now. The here and now being his boyfriend really wasn't good at much related to emotions...or relationships. Percy looked like he was about to pass out and Oliver couldn't help a pang of resentment at the same time as an equally strong pang of empathy. He grabbed a tissue and dried his face properly before putting out his own hand to grasp Percy's. "Come here, you need to sit down before you fall down."

Percy, thank god, did as he was told, perching beside Oliver on the bed and not letting go of his hand. "What's this?" he picked up, but was far too polite to unfold, the letter lying on the bed.

"It's a note from my mum, she's just worrying about me. She heard about last night and well, they sort of knew I'd been involved with something to do with Dumbledore and wanted to see if I was alright. It came while I was at St Mungo's, they called me back in this morning."

"Are you alright?"

"Oh I'm fine, it wasn't about me, well not in that sense. The parents of one of the Aurors I transported to St Mungos wanted to talk to me. He didn't make it. Apparently families sometimes want to talk to the people involved. I don't really know why, there was nothing I could tell them other than how sorry I was."

Percy squeezed his hand, silently encouraging him to continue.

"They thanked me for trying to help their kid." He couldn't hide his disbelief. The couple had been so kind, asking him how he was, checking he'd not been hurt, apologising for pulling him away from his rest and thanking him again and again for what he'd done, even though none of it had been enough.

"Well of course they did, you did your best Oliver, there was nothing more you could have done. And at least they know that someone tried, that he wasn't just dying forgotten in a corner somewhere."

"He still died."

"There was nothing you could do to stop that."

"I know. I'm sorry, you lost your brother, your mum's in hospital, you don't need me falling apart."

Percy tugged him into his arms and held him close. "Don't be foolish. You've been through something traumatic, you're allowed to fall apart if you need to."

Oliver hadn't told Percy about what else had happened to him last night, hadn't known how and hadn't wanted to burden him further, but at what point did not telling him move from not burdening him to just keeping him in the dark, lying by omission. Oliver sat up and took Percy's hand again, determined to look him in the eye and tell him the truth - all of it.

"Erm, look I don't want to worry you, I'm fine," he emphasised. "I've been checked over, but when You-Know -Who," the name still wasn't possible for him, after his brief encounter with him he suspected it never would be, "Showed up last night, I was close by. I tried to get to someone to help them and he..." it had been difficult to say even to the healer but it was a thousand times harder to say it now. Oliver took a deep breath, "He cast the Cruciatus on me." That sounded better than 'he tortured me' at least. Though, looking at Percy's expression, perhaps not by much.

"Ol..." The hand holding his own tightened its grip. "Bloody hell, why on earth didn't you say something."

Oliver had to hold back a laugh at hearing Percy swear in just the way he'd so often heard Ron do, and heard Percy tell his brother off for. "I'm alright." He wasn't sure he was even convincing himself.

Percy pulled him back into a warm embrace and Oliver couldn't resist the comfort of burying his face in Percy's shoulder again and letting his weight rest on him for a moment. Percy, dreadful as he was with words, seemed much better at this, his hands rubbing soothing patterns on Oliver's back and cheek pressed affectionately to the top of his head. It was the kind of embrace that made you feel safe, made the world retreat just for a moment, and Oliver desperately didn't want to let go. Percy however had his own problems, he needed to go and see his family and Oliver couldn't in good conscience facilitate Percy's avoidance any longer.

He sat up, kissed Percy affectionately, trying to pour into a simple press of lips the gratitude he felt for his support, and plastered a calm smile on his face. "I'm going to be fine, you need to go and see your family though."

Percy's face darkened with anxiety but he nodded. "I really do. Oliver, I...I need to go home tonight. I'm sorry, I just can't be away right now." There was a strongly implied note of 'and you can't come with me' that stung a little.

"No of course. I understand." Of course he didn't want Oliver to go with him, his family were suffering, they needed to be together without interruptions. Percy probably (certainly) still hadn't even told them about their relationship yet anyway.

"I'd have thought you'd be eager to go and see your own parents, reassure them you're alright?"

"Ye-es," Oliver responded slowly, "I just wasn't planning on doing it today. I wanted to give things time to calm down a bit. I don't want to turn up and blurt things out at them and upset them."

Percy raised an unimpressed eyebrow that reminded Oliver vaguely of the kinds of looks he used to get from him at Hogwarts when he'd irritated the Headboy by contravening some rule or other. The memory made him smile. "Go on home, I'll be fine."

Percy did not look convinced and only got as far as the door before stopping dead in his tracks and turning back. "No. I can't leave you like this."

"I'm fine, you need to go home. And do you really feel like taking me with you?" There was an edge to his question that Oliver was too tired to hide.

Percy snorted, all efficiency suddenly. "You're not fine. Your parents want to see you and, unless you can give me a good reason for not going to see them, then that's where I'm taking you."

"I'm not a child, I don't need 'taking' anywhere and I don't need to be returned to my mum and dad like a lost kid."

Percy though was already dragging a bag out of the wardrobe and packing some clean underwear, a shirt, socks, trousers, he even stopped to grab the book that had been lying half-read on the bedside table for weeks. Oliver was too overwhelmed by the attention to detail to point out he'd long forgotten where he'd been up to in the story.

Percy hesitated. "Is there a reason you don't want to go? And don't give me any more rubbish about not wanting to worry them, your mother's already worried by the sound of it."

Percy was stroking his arm in a manner Oliver suspected was meant to be soothing but was actually a bit too frantic to manage that. He realised that Percy was looking at him in concern not only because of recent events but because he was now probably imagining all kinds of reasons why Oliver didn't want to go to his family. Oliver sighed, "No, there's no other reason. My parents are just as great and occasionally annoying as they seemed when you met them back at Hogwarts. I just wanted to get myself together more before I ended up telling them about things that they don't need to hear."

"They're your parents, and right now I'm worried about what you need."

There was a double-standard too vast to even address in how eager Percy was to get Oliver to seek comfort in openness and honesty with his family when he likely had no intention at all of doing the same with his own. The hand squeezing his though was affectionate and steady and Oliver couldn't help but feel that Percy was right, that staying here alone wasn't the best course of action.

"Alright." He surrendered, attempting to pick up his bag and smiling quietly when Percy shook his head and threw it over his own shoulder.

XXXXXXX

"Well, all things considered, that wasn't too bad really." Druscilla, press briefing over and Fudge returned to his office, was feeling tired but hopeful. The day, she felt, could only improve from this point on. The press had been relatively well behaved, the Minister had been at his most statesmanlike, and Severus had refrained from cursing anybody.

"Hmm," Severus made a non-committal sound but didn't look too displeased with the way the briefing had gone. He'd certainly appeared to enjoy himself frightening off reporters who'd been foolish enough to ask when they could interview Harry and if they could come to the school.

Druscilla would have liked to have spoken to the boy herself but knew better than to ask. Severus might despise the child but he apparently had no intention of allowing any of his students to be importuned by the press, the Ministry, or anybody else.

There was however one person at Hogwarts Druscilla felt somebody should go and see, and 'somebody' had a tendency in the Ministry of late to mean her. "Has anyone spoken to Tonks about Kingsley?"

"Not that I am aware of. As I told you earlier she was only just starting to come round when I left."

"Right." Conversation was clearly off the table. "Do you mind if I head back to the school with you? I could break the news to her if you'd like."

"I'm sure no one else is particularly eager to."

She took this as consent and followed him through the floo system to the school. Once there he escorted her down from the empty headmaster's office and quickly left her with a, "I'm sure you can remember where the hospital wing is."

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, pulling strands from the neat clasp it had been held in all morning. She pulled the clasp loose in irritation and bundled her hair back more roughly, at least she was done with facing the press for the day, she suspected Tonks wouldn't care much how tidy her hair was.

She arrived at the hospital wing hoping to see Poppy Pomfrey, a woman she always remembered being free with tea and sympathy back when she'd been a student, but an unfamiliar healer in a St Mungo's uniform greeted her dispassionately. She found herself directed her to Tonks' bedside with nothing more than an admonition to not tire the young woman out, and to stay away from the screened off end of the ward where she suspected Harry was. No mention of any kind of refreshment.

Tonks raised a hand ever so slightly in greeting, though even this looked like it took a mammoth amount of effort. Her hair was long and lank, a strange muddy khaki colour, and her skin almost deathly white. Her face had barely more colour than the sterile white pillows she rested on.

"Hello there," Druscilla sat down beside her and squeezed her hand briefly. "How are you feeling?"

"About as good as I look I imagine."

Druscilla smiled ruefully, "I don't think anyone's looking their best today."

"You're still a sight for sore eyes, I feel like I'm going mad in here already."

Druscilla realised she was probably the only visitor the young woman had had. "I'm surprised not to see your parents here?"

"McGonagall said she wouldn't be letting anyone in until later this afternoon, I expect they'll be here soon. They know I'm alright." The young woman had never seemed particularly close to her parents. Druscilla remembered Andromeda from school, a beautiful and slightly haughty creature that her own playful sense of humour meant she'd never really warmed to. The Black sisters had all been a little too pleased with themselves. Ironically Narcissa had always seemed the least so, she'd always appeared a trifle unsure of herself, a pale washed-out shadow to her sisters' dark, aristocratic beauty. Now Andromeda was the only one left and Druscilla's sympathy was roused at the thought of the three separate owls she must have received late last night, telling her her sisters were dead and her only child seriously injured. 'Alright' was something of an exaggeration on Tonks' part, Dru was well aware just how close they'd come to losing her.

She was reminded that technically she was supposed to breaking bad news herself. "I need to tell you something."

The young woman nodded. "I guessed you weren't here just to ask how I was feeling."

"After you were injured, there were further casualties," she hesitated for only a millisecond, "Including Kingsley."

The young woman's eyes closed and a pained noise escaped colourless lips.

"I'm sorry, I thought it best to tell you immediately."

Tonks took a shaky breath. "Of course, thank you."

"He thought very highly of you, you know."

The girl in the bed tried to smile but her eyes were filling with unshed tears. "He still ended up having to save me."

Druscilla's own grief threatened for a moment to engulf her. "Kingsley saved most of us at one time or another."

"He held my hand when she stabbed me, told me I'd be alright."

Druscilla took Tonks' hand again, it seemed she was fated to spend the day trying to comfort people. She remained at the young woman's bedside for a further half hour before making her escape.

XXXXXXX

Draco Malfoy felt sick. He refused to put any other word to the roiling, desperate, feeling in his stomach, in case even that lifted the lid on the emotions he was trying so so hard not to feel. He was sick, and he was angry, that was all. Nothing felt quite real as he drifted through the school corridors, being given a wide berth by the other students, hoping that after a morning spent in his dorm dodging Blaise and Theo's unnerving attempts to be kind (which had only ceased when he'd cursed Theo badly enough that Blaise had to take him to the Hospital Wing) some fresh air might help.

He'd made it as far as the entrance hall when his luck ran out once more.

"Draco?" An imperious voice caught his attention and he turned to see a woman that he first took for Bellatrix Lestrange and couldn't help the flinch that ran through him. On closer look though the hair was dark brown, not quite black, the face less expressive, the clothes less lunatic-chic. Like Bellatrix though she looked nothing like their younger sister.

His hand curled tightly around his wand. "Get away from me!" he hissed.

"Draco, I appreciate we don't know much of each other but..."

"But nothing," he spat, suddenly pleased to have a target for his anger. This was much better than cursing Theo, this woman actively deserved it. "You don't know anything about me, and I don't want to know anything about you."

XXXXXXX

The school environment was almost raucous, students out of lessons, roaming the corridors, no wonder Severus had seemed so keen to disappear back to his dungeon. Deciding against seeking a responsible adult amongst the adolescent hoards in order to get access to the floo system, Druscilla headed for the main doors.

As she approached the entrance hall the crowds of celebrating students petered out, though she could hear plenty of noise from the Great Hall nearby. Over that though she became aware of two raised voices that didn't sound celebratory in the least.

"Teenage temper tantrums will get you nowhere, young man!" Andromeda Tonks, presumably just arrived to visit her daughter, was chiding an angry looking Slytherin that Druscilla recognised with a sinking feeling as Draco Malfoy.

Muttering profanities under her breath, she realised the young man had his wand in his hand and jogged quickly down the last few steps towards the rowing pair.

"I told you to stay away from me!" Draco's wand was levelled right at his unimpressed looking aunt now and Druscilla was across the entrance hall in a few quick strides.

"Woah!" Drucsilla stepped between the two of them and placed a restraining hand on Draco's wrist. "None of that! This isn't helping."

The young man looked at her with angry red eyes and she awkwardly looked over to his aunt, grieving teenagers were not her forte. Andromeda looked utterly unruffled by it all, regarding both her nephew and Druscilla coolly and disinterestedly. "Have it your way. Your mother always did."

"No! No, no no!" Druscilla pulled Draco back as he lunged after the retreating woman. "Enough!" She was tempted to tell him that Andromeda's cold words were probably provoked by his poor behaviour, but even she struggled with the idea of scolding a grief-stricken child. He pulled from her grasp and ran off in the direction of the dungeons. She swore but let him go. Voldemort might be dead, but the divides he'd encouraged in their society were alive and kicking.

She wanted nothing more than to head back to her office but she couldn't just let this go. She had no desire to watch the son's life imitate the father's. With a noise of frustration she turned back from the open doorway and the sight of freedom and headed for the dungeons. It was familiar territory for her, she'd been happy here, enjoyed her school career at the time, but in retrospect as more and more of her classmates had died or been imprisoned because of Voldemort she'd ceased to think of her school days with much fondness.

The office occupied by the Slytherin house head hadn't changed since her day. She was impressed that even on today of all days her knock was answered instantly by Severus. She suspected that he'd very much rather not deal with anyone, but she'd been long convinced that he was secretly deeply protective of his students.

Druscilla had thought he might be relieved she wasn't a traumatised student, but as she opened to door he looked almost disappointed. She wasn't sure who he might have hoped was on the other side of the door but it clearly hadn't been her.

"Are you still here?" he asked rudely.

"No, I left an hour ago." The sarcastic response was out of her mouth before she could control herself. Unless she was very much mistaken though it amused him slightly.

"What can I do for you?" To say he softened even slightly wouldn't quite be accurate, but her attitude seemed to have relaxed him the tiniest of fractions. He even went so far as to stop blocking the doorway and wave her inside.

"I think I walked in on a bit of an incident. It seems Andromeda Tonks spotted Draco Malfoy and tried to speak with him."

Severus' expression, rarely easy to read with any certainty, shuttered entirely at the mention of his students' name. "Well I imagine that went well."

She grimaced. "I'll spare you the details, but I need to warn you that he seems just as trigger-happy as his father ever was and I'm concerned he's going to push his behaviour past what a few detentions are going to deal with."

"I do not require your advice on how to handle my students."

"It's not advice Severus, it's fact. He pulled his wand on Andromeda Tonks and I have no idea what he intended on doing but I don't think any of us would have liked to find out." She sighed, "I'm not unsympathetic to his loss, and frankly she wasn't really helping anything either, but..."

"I said I will deal with him."

He rarely snapped at her, she prided herself on knowing when not to push him but today she was running on adrenaline and a need to fix the world. Severus looked worse, like he was running on desperation and the sure knowledge that the world could not be fixed.

"Yeah," she backed down, "Yeah, I'm sorry, ok." She left without another word, well aware that neither one of them had heard the last of this problem, but just as aware that all Severus wanted was to be left in peace. It seemed like the least she could do.

Wandering back through the dungeons she passed several students and thought they looked different to the ones she'd passed in the great hall. Upstairs they'd been bent on celebration, these seemed more interested in who the unfamiliar adult was. She felt uncomfortably under the microscope as their eyes followed her every step.

If they make me uncomfortable I wonder how everyone else responds to them, she thought to herself. Dear god, this is a bloody mess!

XXXXXXX

Having chosen to apparate rather than floo, Oliver had assumed Percy would see him to the door of his parents' house before making his own escape. Percy however, still wearing the 'man on a mission' expression he'd had ever since he'd started packing Oliver's overnight bag, had surprised him by not only ringing the doorbell but even going so far as to accept his mother's polite invitation to step in for a cup of tea.

Oliver's parents had met Percy a couple of times before, though not since their time at Hogwarts together, and his mother in particular had always been fond of the unfailingly polite redhead. Somewhere though in the midst of getting hugged and fussed over by his mum, Oliver realised that Percy and his father were stood talking quietly in the hallway.

Percy was good with parents, the precocious intellect coupled with quiet respectful manners had made him quite the favourite with teachers and parents alike. It hadn't been until he'd reached the Ministry that he'd realised that not all adults were so easy to win over. He knew Oliver's father had been his number one supporter in his quidditch ambitions, that the man was devoted to his only son and that they had a much better and closer relationship than he'd ever managed with his own father. He was also aware that the man had greeted him just a fraction less warmly than Oliver's mother had.

Percy had no idea what Oliver had or hadn't told his parents about their relationship. In spending so much time wondering how on earth he could ever tell his own family he'd just never thought to ask. They'd not seemed surprised to see him with their son though and it occurred to him that if they did know then they might not have the highest opinion of someone too afraid to publically own the relationship.

Trying not to worry too much about whether he was making a good impression, Percy filled Angus Wood in on what had happened to his son as quickly and as tactfully as he could. He stood his ground as the man's expression grew ever grimmer and his hands clenched in anger. Oliver's father man swore quietly but violently, visibly upset, then composed himself before Oliver and his mother noticed.

"I'll tell Lena later, she'd mother him to death if I told her now." Angus glanced over to where his wife was hovering beside Oliver with teapot and biscuits, anger dissipating slightly at the sight of his son safe, and gave a fond smile, "She may do that anyway." He turned back to Percy. "Thank you for bringing him home."

"I just wish I could stay." The words were out before Percy could decide if they were appropriate or not, doubtlessly Oliver's parents didn't need a stranger hanging around their house when they were upset.

Oliver's father though graced him with a smile for the first time, apparently he'd said the right thing without even realising. "I'm sure he knows that. You need to go and see your mother. I hope she's doing better." Percy was startled by the older man giving him what should have been a pretty awkward one armed hug, but somehow the awkwardness was lost as Angus Wood added in a gruff fatherly tone, "Just you make sure you look after yourself. Oliver thinks an awful lot of you."

Percy gave a weak smile, afraid that if he said too much he might break down himself. There was something about Oliver's quiet parents and their peaceful ordered home, so different from his own family life, that had had him feeling oddly comfortable from the start.

When Percy came back into the living room and downed the last of his tea with an apologetic, "I really do need to go, I'm sorry," Oliver decided not to ask what he and his father had been talking about. He could guess that in Percy's usual concise, efficient way his father had likely been filled in on everything of note that had happened over the last 24 hours.

Oliver noticed his parents withdraw to the kitchen as he walked Percy to the front door, allowing them a little privacy. It was privacy though that he almost didn't appreciate, he would have liked to have seen if Percy would have kissed him goodbye when someone was watching. He suspected though that he wouldn't have and that that would simply have left him even more miserable in his absence.

"I'll talk to you soon, ok?"

Oliver nodded, wanting more than anything to grab his hand and ask him not to go. "Sure, don't worry about me, I'm ok."

Percy's last sad smile suggested he didn't believe that at all, but he was down the garden path and had apparated away before Oliver could be sure. It was hard even be sure if his own interpretation of Percy's actions - that realising he couldn't help he'd seen Oliver safely to someone who he hoped could - was accurate, or merely wishful thinking.

Oliver stood there staring for a minute and found his father at his elbow, silently putting an arm around him.

XXXXXXX

Percy was beginning to think that there was nothing he could do today that wouldn't simply leave him feeling more guilty than ever. Rushing to the hospital, damp again from the rain, he was surprised to see only his father sat at his mother's side. Arthur Weasley rose instantly at the sight of his son and hugged him firmly. "Are you alright? You'd already gone when I woke this morning, I assumed you'd be in the office."

There wasn't even the faintest note of a rebuke in his father's tones, though if anything that only served to increase Percy's guilt. It was also clear that his father thought he'd spent the night at the Burrow and Percy saw no need to disillusion him. "Yes, I've been at the Ministry, Professor Thornfield said I could head off for the day though and I'll probably only go in briefly tomorrow." His father looked a little bit like he was thinking he'd believe that when he saw it. "How is she?" Percy hurried the conversation away from his job and where he'd been, moving towards his mother.

Molly Weasley was very still, the rise and fall of her chest the only sign of life, her skin was an unpleasant shade of red that reminded him of the inside of a rare steak and brought back the memory of the smell of burning flesh from the previous night. He swayed slightly on his feet and his father guided him gently to a chair beside the bed.

"It's alright," Arthur murmured soothingly, pressing a glass of water into his hands. "She's going to be fine, she's doing well. She was awake very briefly earlier, but it's going to be a good few days before she's ready to come home."

Percy nodded and sipped the water, realising belatedly that the biscuit Oliver's mum had pushed on him with his cup of tea was all he'd eaten today. "Sorry, I've not eaten and I didn't sleep well."

"I don't think any of us did. Why don't you go home, you can come back this evening once you've eaten something and had a bit of a rest. Your mum's not going anywhere."

"No, I..."

"Percy," his father sounded unusually stern. "Just this once, do as you're told. You look dreadful and you're no good to anyone like this." His voice softened and he pulled Percy to his feet and into another brief hug. "Please look after yourself, if your mum sees you like this it'll just upset her."

"Yes, Dad. Where's everyone else?"

"I sent them home a little while ago, they should be at the Burrow."

"And what about you?"

"I'll come home for dinner, I just want to sit with Molly for a while."

XXXXXXX

Percy let himself quietly in to The Burrow, hoping to avoid everyone's notice until he'd had chance to sit down with a cup of tea. But when in his life had he ever been able to get past the twins? A head (Fred or George, he'd never been good at telling which) was stuck round the living room door mere moments after he'd entered the house. "There you are; we're in here. Is dad with you?"

Percy, shaking his head to indicate that no their father wasn't with him, had no choice but to join the rest of his brothers in the living room.

One twin was stood by the door, (a bit like a jailer, Percy's mind unhelpfully supplied), the other was on the sofa. Ron was sprawled in an armchair, looking exhausted, and Charlie was curled up on the window seat, difficult to see against the late afternoon sun. What Percy could see though, the bone-tired slump of his shoulders, the arms wrapped around his torso, was quite enough to worry him.

They were all looking at him. Percy could feel it, the tension in the air, the resentment, the unspoken 'where have you been'.

Charlie took one look at his prickly brother and judged the situation to be one wrong remark off a row. Tired and disinclined to take charge, he nevertheless spoke before Fred, George, or even Ron, could take it upon themselves to supply such a remark. "Have you been at work?" Charlie asked the question carefully, knowing Percy was likely to take it as a reproof.

Percy nodded stiffly, "Earlier yes, there were things to be done. I've just been to the hospital to see mum."

"We must have just missed you. Dad's been with her all day, we came home about an hour ago to get Ginny moved back in."

"Ginny!" Percy had quite clearly forgotten his little sister entirely. "How is she?"

"Well, upset understandably. Wants to see Mum, but Dad thought it best to wait a day or so. Mum's not awake much right now and there's no point Ginny exhausting herself to go and see her if she's not even going to know she's there."

Percy nodded, still looking vaguely terrified and Charlie forced himself out of the window seat. "Do you want a cup of tea? I think it's about time we all tried to eat something. There's plenty of bread, we could just make some cheese on toast or something?"

At the mention of food the twins perked up, Ron looked at least half-heartedly interested, and Percy looked ready to vomit. Charlie sighed and put an arm round Percy's shoulders, irritated that he had to reach upwards to do so (he'd never enjoyed being shorter than Bill, Ron and Percy), and led him insistently towards the kitchen. "Come on, you can help me make a pot of tea and see if we can't find some biscuits or something at least."

XXXXXXX

Tired, miserable and cold, Remus had been hoping seeing Dru might cheer him up. He wasn't prepared however to find himself smiling before he'd even got through her front door. As he'd raised his hand to the knocker it transformed into a face, in a manner entertainingly reminiscent of Marley's ghost, and, after pretending to bite him, greeted him with Druscilla's voice. "Come in, Remus." The door swung open before him. It was an amusingly eccentric bit of magic that spoke volumes about its caster. He could only hope that the fact he'd been added to the automatic entry list, (presumably a short one), so quickly, said as much about the caster's feelings towards him.

The flat however seemed puzzlingly empty. "Dru?" he called out.

"I'm on the balcony!"

He followed the shout that greeted him. The 'balcony' was all of three feet wide and Druscilla had chosen to maximise the space by forsaking any outdoor furniture in favour of just dragging a cushion out and sitting on the floor. She was wrapped in a blanket against the cold with a glass of wine in her hand, the bottle (half-empty) not far from her side. Some kind of invisible magical shield was keeping off the rain, though not the cold. The storm, which had been nothing but dull drizzle when Remus had woken up that morning, had steadily worsened all day and had now worked itself into a frenzy.

Druscilla sat amongst it all almost oblivious to the lightening flashing across the sky and the pelting rain bouncing off the barrier only a few feet above her head. An idle wave of her free hand conjured up a second glass and set the bottle pouring a large measure of burgundy wine for Remus. Another time he might have thought she was showing off, but not today. The beautiful crystal goblet floated into his hand and he sank down beside her.

"Hello."

"Hullo." She sounded more tired than he'd expected.

He felt surprisingly awkward, he wanted to put an arm around her but wasn't entirely sure if she'd welcome it. "Dreadful weather we're having."

"It's all that magical energy from last night feeding into the weather. There are repercussions to that kind of battle, to throwing magic around in that way..." She stopped and drank more of her wine.

Remus knew a little about the theories she was referring to and were she in a better mood he'd have loved to delve deeper into the subject. He'd found before that she had a natural gift for explaining things in an interesting way, it was easy to believe she'd had an occasional side career as a lecturer. However she currently sounded angry and bitter enough to stop him questioning any further. Trust Dru to manage to render even the weather an unsafe subject.

He reached for something to fill the silence between them with. "So, how does your door knocker recognise people?"

That seemed a safer topic, her angry frown smoothed itself out. "Magical signature. It does occasionally get it wrong, and it once scared the life out the muggle pizza boy."

Remus could only imagine. "What does it do if it doesn't like someone?"

"Poisoned darts shoot out of its nose." She snorted wine inelegantly at his look of bemused horror. "I'm joking! It insults them until they go away. But it's not instructed to do that to very many people and you needn't worry, I doubt you're ever going to be one of them." She finally smiled at him. "I'm sorry, I've not been very welcoming have I? I'm just angry. How was Harry, I take it you've been to see him?"

Now it was Remus' turn to frown. "Almost as angry as you, quite possibly more so."

"Hard to blame him under the circumstances."

"Yes." Remus said quietly, recalling his deeply unsuccessful visit that evening. Harry had only just woken up and had been confused, angry and disoriented.

Remus' mind was still full of the image of Harry furiously demanding to know where Dumbledore was because, "I'm going to bloody kill him!" McGonagall had filled Remus in on what Dumbledore had planned, so he had anticipated that Harry might be angry with the headmaster following the possession, but he'd still been left momentarily stunned by the vehemence of the boy's response.

He'd stood helplessly for a moment while Hermione had tried to restrain Harry, tears gathering in her eyes. Severus had stepped in to make everything worse with a single, brutal, "I'm afraid you're rather too late for that, Potter."

If Remus hadn't been able to see all too easily the pain in Severus' eyes he'd have happily punched him right then and there and damn how much hard work he'd put into trying to heal their schoolboy rift in recent years. As it was he'd contented himself with a, "Severus, perhaps you should leave this to me!"

Severus had been only too happy to leave, but his absence hadn't improved things much. Remus had tried, with interjections from Hermione, to explain everything but Harry, still slightly out of it from pain potions and the trauma of the last few weeks, hadn't really seemed to take much of it in and had been impossible to calm down. He had asked for Ron enough times to leave Remus feeling utterly inadequate, and Madame Pomfrey appeared to have taken pity on them both and dosed Harry with a sleeping draught.

Druscilla topped up his wine glass, he'd not even noticed he'd emptied it so fast. "You ok?"

He shook his head to clear the memory, not eager to talk about any of it. "Fine, better than you I think. What's got you so angry?"

"Me," she said bluntly.

"You?"

"Oh come on, Remus," she joked, "It's always about me." There was more bitterness in this reference to her 'out-for-herself' reputation than he thought he'd ever seen in her before.

"I mean don't get me wrong," she continued, "I'm angry with just about everyone and everything right now but number one on a long list is me. I'm not happy with the way I've been behaving."

"In what way?"

"I never wanted to be a politician," she began, "I was going to be an Auror, or something exciting like that, something with some flair."

He smiled quietly, "I think you've brought quite a bit of flair to politics."

"But what's it brought to me?" She sighed again. "I know it's a cliché but power really does corrupt people, especially in politics. You start out wanting to do the right thing, then you realise you need power to do that, so then when a chance for power and the right thing start running in opposition to each other you argue that you need to maintain power or doing and saying the right thing won't matter because it will be out of your control. And then you end up like Fudge. Power should never be your aim, merely a means to an end, and I came so very close to forgetting that." She was looking more upset by the minute. "I should have supported Dumbledore and Harry when they said Voldemort was back. I should have joined the Order when you first asked. Instead I wasted time playing games, doing nothing, because I thought it didn't affect me. I'd become someone I hardly recognised. I don't know what was wrong with me."

He had been surprised, when he'd first met her in person, by the cynicism and lack of empathy in the woman who had some across quite differently in their previous correspondence. "To be fair throwing your lot in with a guerrilla group, as opposed to the Ministry you'd invested decades in supporting and reforming, probably didn't look like an obvious move," he said carefully.

She laughed bitterly. "Well, no."

Finally he gave in to his earlier impulse and slipped his arm around her, pleased when she instantly moved to lean against him, tucking herself against his side. "You couldn't have changed all of this you know. No matter what you'd done, when you'd joined the Order. I don't really think that, impressive as you are, one woman's support would have altered the course of things that much."

"Now that's not sounding much like a disciple of Dumbledore, he was very much of the 'one person can change the world' way of thinking."

"Change it maybe," he conceded quietly, "But you can't save the world singlehanded."

She smiled and took hold of his hand, but was only able to remain serious for a brief moment before pouring herself more wine and giggling. "Is this the point where you tell me how if we all hold hands and think positive thoughts we can make the world a better place?"

He shook his head in amused exasperation, realising that she was drunker than he'd initially thought and that this was certainly not the first bottle of wine she'd opened since getting home. "What have you got against teamwork?"

She gestured at herself with the hand holding the wine glass and miraculously managed not to spill a drop. "Not sure I'd care to join any team that'd have me."

He laughed a little. "So how's fighting singlehandedly working out for you?"

She sobered again, sullenly drinking more of the expensive wine. "Yeah alright, you have a good point. I spent the day offering meaningless comfort first to Kingsley's wife, then to Tonks, then got into a fight with Severus." She brightened momentarily, "But I did stop Draco Malfoy from likely landing himself in Azkaban." She pulled a face, "Well, delayed that until at least tomorrow anyway."

"What were you fighting with Severus about?" Of all the people she might have chosen to fight he was astonished she'd decided on the Potions Master, and not only because Severus was probably one of the few people guaranteed to wipe the floor with her.

She snorted. "Probably the fact that we're both more upset than we'd care to admit to."

She sounded so sad when she said this. Remus hugged her closer protectively.

"It's been a rough day." She snuggled into him and sighed out an incongruous little burst of laughter, "And I've had a lot of rough days throughout my career. But this one was different in one way at least."

Remus raised his eyebrows in question.

She smiled and raised their joined hands into his eye line. "There's never been anyone to come home to before."

XXXXXXX

It was late into the night before Percy, finally, was left alone downstairs at the Burrow. He hastened to the fireplace and moments later the sight of Oliver's face had some of the tension leaching from his shoulders.

"Hi," he smiled wanly. "I wanted to call to see how you were doing? I'm sorry it's so late. I've been at the hospital with mum, and then the family...well you know what The Burrow's like, no peace to be had."

Oliver translated that in his head as 'no privacy to be had'. He managed to produce a tired smile of his own. "That's ok. I didn't expect you to call tonight." He hadn't.

"Of course I was going to call!"

Percy looked hurt and Oliver moderated his tone. "I only meant that you didn't need to," his smile softened a little, "But I'm very glad you did. How's your mum?"

"She's stable, responding well to treatment. She didn't wake up while I was there."

"You look tired."

"I am. I didn't sleep well."

"I know. You were tossing and turning most of the night."

"Sorry, I didn't realise I'd kept you awake."

"It's alright. I'd rather have you there, even if when you are destroying my sleep pattern."

Percy blushed and smiled, reaching out as though to touch Oliver's face when a noise from within the house startled him. "I have to go, someone's coming."

Before Oliver could say anything further the connection was cut, leaving him sat alone in the dark of his parents' living room. Brief and unsatisfying as the conversation had been though, it did at least show that yes Percy was worried about him, he did care, he hadn't just shoved him away out of sight, out of mind.

At the Burrow, Percy leapt to his feet as soon as the connection was cut and stepped guiltily in front of the fire just as Fred and George appeared in the doorway, followed by Charlie.

"Who were you firecalling?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Nobody." Percy winced internally; as lies went, it wasn't a very convincing one.

"Were you talking to work?" George asked with a resigned sigh.

"Of course it wasn't work," Percy snapped. "Who'd be in the office in the middle of the night?

"You probably, given half a chance." George looked unimpressed at being snapped at.

Percy reeled in his bad temper. "It was just a friend."

"I didn't know you had friends." Attack one twin and you could bet the other would pile in.

"Fred!" Charlie frowned, "For god's sake, you're not helping anything!"

Unkind as Fred's comment had been though, Percy was almost grateful for it. It provided him with a good reason to leave and avoid further interrogation. "I'm going to bed," he announced, and beat a hasty retreat from his brothers.

XXXXXXX

At Hogwarts Professor Snape was pacing back and forth in his rooms. He couldn't sleep, couldn't settle to anything, couldn't even seem to sit still.

A knock at the door startled him and he flung it open at least grateful for the opportunity to shout at someone.

And there in the doorway, clad in a tartan dressing gown, was the only person he couldn't shout at, the only person he actually wanted to see.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I just..." Minerva was unusually hesitant, and he suspected she might have been doing a fair bit of pacing about the castle herself before arriving at his door. "I couldn't sleep and I saw the light under the door and thought maybe you might not be able to either."

"Never apologise for coming here." He gestured to the battered leather armchairs by the fire. "Join me for a drink?"

She sighed and followed him in. "I think I'm supposed to tell you that that's a very irresponsible idea, however all I can manage is 'yes please'!"

He smiled at her and marvelled internally that anything could still make him smile at all. "The wonderful thing about being a Slytherin is no one expects you to be the responsible one."

She gave a small chuckle. "Well I suppose the wonderful thing about being a Gryffindor is no one will expect I've behaved otherwise."

He handed her a glass, "I won't tell them otherwise if you don't."

XXXXXXX

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A/N: Having said this chapter wouldn't be as long as the previous one, it still turned in to a bit of a monster! Next chapter Harry finally gets reunited wth Ron. I'm in the final stretch but not done yet by any means, looking at the mass of notes and draft scenes I've still got! Hope you're going to stick with me, do let me know what you thought of this one. Thanks, as always, for reading. :) x