Harry Potter and all characters, settings and situations in this story is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and all others involved.
It Is Safe To Say His Name
Percy had worked through lunch again. He'd been collecting a deposition from a witch who'd lost her husband and both children to Voldemort's supporters. Tears had made her frequently incoherent but she'd been determined to go on and had distrusted the Pensieve system. By the time she had left it was mid-afternoon and he had no appetite. He was going to write it all up, cross-reference and file before going home. Hopefully he'd be ready for his mother's cooking later.
And then Charlie's head appeared in the fire. Percy had been very proud to be allocated an office with a fireplace. They were usually given to much more senior people, but Minister Shacklebolt himself had said that Percy's new project would demand it. In the two months since it had become the conduit for dozens of distressed, fragile and sometimes evil people and their war stories.
And now Charlie. Which was unlikely to be good news, especially looking so distraught.
"Weren't you supposed to go back to work last week?" Percy snapped. He'd spent all day being sympathetic.
"I Owled them. It's OK," Charlie answered, then he said miserably, "I need your help."
"What have you done now?"
"Something really stupid. Can I Floo through?"
Percy stared at the face in the flames for a few moments and seriously considered refusing. But Charlie looked so sad. But didn't he always when things went wrong? And wasn't it about time he started cleaning up after himself? Or would he just turn to another member of the family which wouldn't be fair on them?
"Go on then," Percy conceded ungraciously, charming the network to allow Charlie through.
When Charlie got into the office, he sank to the floor and dropped his head into his hands.
"Drop the dramatics!" Percy ordered.
"He's gone," Charlie moaned, "I can't find him."
"You'd better not be talking about Draco Malfoy," Percy growled. "Didn't I warn you?"
Percy gripped the desk in front of him, Charlie lifted his head so he could appeal directly to Percy's unsympathetic face.
"I've looked everywhere in London, Perce. Well, not Muggle places, 'cos he wouldn't go anywhere with Muggles …"
"Oh, he's a reformed character, then," Percy injected, sarcastically.
"This is the last place. I can't search the Ministry. I've Owled all over too, sent loads to Malfoy Manor …"
Percy rubbed at his tired face. "Go on, then. Tell me. I mean, I'd love to think that he'd just got bored and dumped you but that never seems to be the way it goes with you. What did you do?"
Charlie chewed his lip and looked away. Percy got up from his chair and moved round the desk to watch his brother properly.
Very quietly Charlie admitted, "I said the wrong name."
"I assume this was at some inappropriately intimate moment," Percy said in a voice full of exasperation. Charlie nodded.
"And was it a particularly cruel wrong name?"
Charlie nodded again.
"You might as well tell me," Percy prompted, worried about what he would hear.
"I said 'Lucius'."
Percy's face went crimson and he exploded with anger in a way Charlie had only ever seen Molly do before.
"You called him by his father's name while you were on the job?" he yelled. "You insensitive moron! He's going to destroy you and everyone around you! You selfish, stupid, inadequate …"
Charlie tried to placate his brother with, "I know, I know."
"We'll just have to warn everyone and wait for the fireworks. I can't dig you out of this one, big brother," Percy explained, only slightly more calmly.
"No! You have to … I mean I want you to, need you to help me find him. I can't live … I don't want to live without him. I really like him," Charlie pleaded.
Well, this was new. Percy concentrated on his breathing, tried to calm down.
"And if I find him, then what do you do?" Percy asked.
"Apologise," Charlie answered.
"Do you know how? Is it in your repertoire?"
"But I really am really sorry. I'll just tell him that. I can't believe it happened. Except that it's the sort of stupid thing I do do. It's so wrong. He's special. He's different. I've never said that before, have I?" he asked Percy.
Percy had to admit that this was true. Against all his self-protective instincts he agreed to help. He sent Charlie back to his room just in case Draco showed up there, and put out a blanket internal and external Ministry Information Request.
Within twenty minutes another head appeared in Percy's fire.
"Hello Aberforth. Ready to give me your deposition?" Percy asked.
"You know how I feel about that, Weasley junior. The Ministry should leave well alone, let folks get on with their lives instead of raking up the past. No, I've got your missing person in the bar downstairs," Aberforth Dumbledore replied.
About to launch into his 'Truth and Reconciliation' speech, Percy was wrong-footed.
"Draco Malfoy? In the Hog's Head? Are you sure?" he spluttered.
"I'm sure. He's trying to drink himself out of consciousness. I've seen him like this before over the years, when he was at the school. Glad to get your message, actually. My Temporary Sobriety Charm might have fooled Severus Snape, but Lucius Malfoy'd be a different matter. I don't want him out to hex me." Aberforth chuckled and started to withdraw his head.
"I'll Floo through!" Percy called out.
Aberforth was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.
"Do I want to know what he's so unhappy about?" he asked Percy.
"Probably not," Percy replied.
"Not your department, is it, Missing Persons? And he's of age."
Percy didn't answer.
"You got mixed up in something to do with your brother Charlie again?" the old man asked. Reluctantly, Percy nodded.
"Then I don't want to know," Aberforth decided, turning and leading the way into the bar.
It was a mid-afternoon out of term time. There were less than a handful of customers. Most of them were doing their best to look inconspicuous. So it was easy to spot the inebriated, delicate youth sprawled along the bar, surrounded by full and empty shot glasses.
"Hello, Draco," Percy said gently.
Draco looked up, tried to focus, failed and muttered, "You were a Prefect."
"That's right. I think you've had enough …"
"I was a prefect," Draco slurred, "for a year. Then I wasn't."
Yes, trying to murder the Headmaster will do that, Percy thought. What he said was: "I'm Percy Weasley. I'm his brother, remember?"
Draco raised a glass and shouted out: "No! I drink to forget!" He downed the Firewhiskey. Then he pouted and whined, "Did he tell you?"
"Yes he did," said Percy, with an exaggerated calm, "but we don't need to tell everyone in the pub, do we?"
Draco raised his head and looked around as though he'd forgotten where he was. He reached for another glass. Percy pulled his wand out and rapidly fired the remaining full glasses along the bar to where Aberforth was cleaning glasses.
"He's paid for them," stated the old barman.
"You can keep it," Percy grunted.
Aberforth shrugged and charmed the drinks back into the bottle.
"If you're not careful, you'll fall off that stool and then everyone will laugh at you," Percy told Draco bluntly. Draco sat upright with concentrated care. Percy had just recognised Mundungus Fletcher among the clientele. Dung was never good news. He wanted to get Draco away as soon as possible.
"Let's go to a different pub, Draco," he said softly.
"The Leaky Cauldron?" Draco asked.
Percy thought through whether to tell him and then nodded. "He's really sorry," Percy whispered, adding "I've never seen him like this before. Can I help you get down?"
Draco mustered all his drunk dignity and slid elegantly to the floor. Percy steered him towards the stairs. Just before they left the bar, he turned to thank Aberforth and ask his permission to Floo out. He got a shrug as an answer.
Draco stared at the fireplace. "If we Floo, I'll have to walk through to get to his room. Past people," he said reasonably, but with poor diction.
"If you try to Apparate in this state you'll splinch yourself," Percy answered, more reasonably.
There was a pause. Percy looked at the pretty, bedraggled boy and suddenly felt overwhelming pity for him.
"Is everything alright? I he kind to you?" he asked. "Is he gentle enough?"
Draco considered the question for a moment. And then a realisation and a fear swamped his body, freezing his blood and sobering him for a moment.
"How do you know?" he asked Percy.
Percy couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. He shouldn't have said anything.
"Perpetrator deposition," he answered, awkwardly. "I'm at the Ministry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said …"
"Who else knows?" Draco demanded. He looked terrified.
"Nobody. I'm the only one with access to the files. I haven't, I won't tell anyone." Percy answered.
Draco leaned over and threw up. All over Aberforth's floor. Percy wanted to hold him up, support him, but he didn't know if he would want to be touched.
Draco straightened up. "Weren't we going somewhere?" he asked coldly, wiping his mouth.
"Side-Along OK?" Percy asked.
Draco nodded stiffly so Percy performed some quick cleaning charms, respectfully took Draco's arm and spun.