Disclaimer: I own nothing you can recognize.

Warnings: Off-screen torture of children and child abuse.

The cell door slammed shut and Pansy Parkinson was thrown in. Percy Weasley, in the cell that Pansy was in, looked worried as she did not stir after a few minutes. He crawled over to her (he was in a condition as bad as hers) and gently rolled her over. The sight before him made him gasp in horror. Pansy's eyes were glossed over with the sheen of death. He looked around wildly. Slowly, all of his friends in the cells, Draco, Blaise, Theo, all of them, dropped to the ground, dead. "NOOOOO!" he screamed. "NOO, PLEASE!"

"Percy, wake up! It's just a dream!"

Percy jerked awake with a gasp.

"What happened?" he asked frantically, used to people shaking him awake because yet another of his friends needed urgent medical treatment that only Percy knew how to give.

His father looked at him, worried. "You had a nightmare. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said, not able to work up the energy to snap at his father. Pushing his father aside, he froze in shock as he saw the rest of his family standing there watching him, along with Harry and Hermione, who had come to stay for the holidays. "What are you doing here?"

His mother stepped forward, trying to embrace Percy. She recoiled in shock at his violent flinch. "You were screaming the house down. Since when did you have nightmares that bad? Not even Harry's nightmares are that bad."

Percy barely concealed his pained look at his mother's comparison. Of course she knew Harry more than Percy.

He closed his eyes, putting on his best 'prat' tone. "It was nothing. Just a bad dream." He started to move towards the bathroom, desperately needing to splash some cold water onto his face. Then he needed to call Pansy. Ever since her parents had been arrested, she had moved in with Oliver Wood, Percy's best childhood friend. He knew she would be up at this time.

Harry blocked Percy's path. "You and I both know that that was not just some random bad dream. Something happened to make this one so bad, so much worse than mine."

Yes, Harry, the reason my dreams are so much worse than yours is that even though you have seen your friends killed before, you have never seen them tortured, both mentally and physically. You have no idea of all the things that Death Eaters have done, can do, and will do. You don't know how ruthless they are.

Instead, Percy just shook his head. "My dream was a lot better than yours, it's just that I'm not as good at blocking my emotions as you are. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to use the washroom."

Slowly, the people filed out of his room. Percy walked to the washroom, his legs giving out just as he reached the door. He knew how many times he had been a millimeter away from losing his 'child'. His dream wasn't all that far-fetched. He knew he had to see Pansy, to talk to her, to verify that she was alive and well. It would be good to talk to the others as well, but he had to stick with what he could have first.

He started to make his way out of his room, and down into the living room. The hallway was dark, the residents of the Burrow all having gone back to bed already. As he reached the Floo, he grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and through it into the flames.

"Oliver Wood's Residence," he stated clearly, then stuck his head into the fireplace.

Pansy looked up as her, or rather Oliver's, fire flared to life. Percy Weasley stuck his head in.

"Percy?" Pansy asked worriedly. Percy looked pale and worn out. "Did you have another nightmare?" She looked worried. Every since her father (if you could call someone like him a father) had been thrown in Azkaban, Percy's nightmares had been increasing rather than decreasing. She was worried about him.

"Yeah. How are you?"

She looked sad, she would rather talk about him, but she knew he felt guilty about her father mistreating her, even though it had been going on since before he had come to their manor.

"I'm doing well. Oliver is a very… enthusiastic person."

Percy laughed gently. "That he is. He never does anything in halves, does he?"

Pansy smiled. "No, he definitely doesn't."

They talked for a while, catching up on each others lives. Once Pansy needed to go, Percy was feeling rejuvenated, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. They had made plans to meet up with Blaise, Draco, and Theo in a few days, and had managed to talk to each of the boys before they went to bed.

Percy smiled. Although he couldn't tell his biological family the truth, he knew that his other family would always be there to help him, and he would always be there to help them.