A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter.

Chapter 5: Dinner

Percy rumpled his hair. Madam Bones had got him word and invited him for dinner tonight. For thanks, she said.

Rot. She had her own motives. But he couldn't gracefully get out of it, and to be honest, he admitted, gazing around the blank walls of his apartment, he wouldn't mind a night out. Setting aside the fact that he never cooked and rarely went out, it would be nice simply to have someone to talk to, somewhere to go. The Bones case was going nowhere, the Pearson case was wrapping up, the Gray case made him sick to his stomach...He couldn't go to the Burrow too often lest they wise up and figure that he was stressing again. But oh, he hated to spend each night in this apartment.

So it was that he found himself rummaging through his wardrobe, throwing on something that would get him by in the Muggle world, and setting out for an apparition point near the Bones residence.

Audrey opened the door with a smile and a 'so glad you could make it'.

"Yes." He said, stepping inside. She definitely had an ulterior motive. "Thank you for inviting me. I'd hoped to talk over the case with you both."

"Sure, sure." She led him into the kitchen. "Mum, Mr. Weasley is here."

Lucy turned, also beaming, and greeted him. "Mr. Weasley."

"Mrs. Bones." He said, remembering that Muggles didn't use terms like Madam anymore.

"Please, it's Lucy. And if there's another name you'd prefer us to call you...?"

Percy wanted to scowl. She'd effectively forced him into allowing the usage of his first name. It wouldn't be polite to call an older woman by her first name while going only by his last. "Percy." He said at last. "It's Percy."

"Percy? I had thought the P stood for Peter." She set a dish on the table and invited him to sit. Percy slipped into his seat, partway grateful and partway uneasy that they were being so casual.

Audrey sat across from him and Lucy began to serve. The meal began as Lucy presided. She was frank, that woman, in a way that reminded him of his own mother. She cut straight to the point. "So, Percy, Audrey tells me you have some idea about the murder case? A gang, you said it was, dear?"

"An organization." Percy cut in before Audrey could reply. "But it's very...unclear." For her, it was. For him, it was clear as glass.

Lucy paused as she served. "What kind of an organization?"

Percy fiddled with his fork. "Well..." He decided to out with it, at least part of it. "At our, er, department, we've been...working against a certain group of criminals. About a year ago we started putting together a number of cases that we thought could be traced back to this group. One of those cases is your husband's."

"But what is this group? Is it some sort of...mob or mafia?"

Percy shook his head. "No, not like that, more like a..." He searched for words. Terrorist ring? Supremacist organization? Cult?

Audrey chewed slowly as she watched their guest struggle for words. She and Lucy exchanged glances. The ginger reached up and rubbed his eyebrow, and she stifled a laugh. "All right, all right, it's secret, yes?"

"Er...yes."

"Is it a group we might know about?" Lucy asked.

"I had hoped so." Percy said honestly. "But it would seem that you know nothing."

"Then they're not...one of those gangs you hear about on the telly?"

Percy paused for a moment, bemused, and then seemed to understand her. "Oh, oh no, ma'am, they're quite covert."

"You're not giving us much to go on." Lucy commented. "Can we at least know the name of the organization, to see if we just might recognize it?"

"I am afraid not."

Audrey raised an eyebrow. All the stiffness had come rushing back into his voice. Clearly, they'd hit a brick wall. So there were limits, things he could mention and things he couldn't. She toyed with the food on her plate and raised her eyes to his. "What about that other case I saw you working on, last week? Was that also attributed to this group?"

"Possibly." He still sounded stiff.

"But," Lucy began, and Percy could feel already what she was going to ask. The insufferable question of motive. "What are they after? Michael would not have had anything to do with them, I'm sure."

"Perhaps he ran afoul of them." Percy said distantly. "Perhaps he refused them some request. Perhaps they were training new recruits. Perhaps they were bored. I really don't know."

"They would kill someone out of boredom?"

"Worse things have been done." Percy said, and bit his tongue as soon as he had said it. That was not the thing to say in this situation. A glance upward showed Audrey shooting him a hard look. Lucy just sipped thoughtfully and set down her glass again.

"Are we in any danger, Percy?"

Percy looked away from Audrey quickly. "I don't think so, ma'am. Most of the members are in custody somewhere, those that aren't have fled the country. Their trials are still ongoing...I'm just hoping to pin one of them with this case. Regardless of whether it's solved or not, the individual directly involved will likely be imprisoned or killed." He added with a bitter note, "Death Eaters don't strike once."

"Death Eaters?"

Blast his thrice-accursed tongue! "Er..."

"Well it certainly sounds malicious." Lucy said. "And you're right, I've never heard such a name. You, Audrey?" She turned her eyes to Audrey's gray ones, and Audrey shook her head. "No, never."

Percy looked down. "I didn't expect you to." He said. "The case, then, isn't going much of anywhere, I'm afraid."

"Because there's no motive and no way to pin it on an individual person." Audrey assumed. "Can't you just charge the leaders with it, saying they assisted?"

Charging Voldemort with murder...A laughable idea. There had never been any thought of bringing the Dark Lord to trial. "I'm afraid that's quite impossible." Percy told her with a straight face. "We know it was someone in the group, but we don't know who. And it looks as if this could be as far as we go, unless one of them confesses...which they won't."

"No chance of it?"

"No..." Percy let his voice trail off. Well...there was Malfoy. There was hardly any doubt that the Most Noble House of Malfoy would get off with their crimes again. Not because of money this time, because of a well-played hand by Narcissa Malfoy. Potter had already agreed to testify for them at trial, and no one went against Potter. He cleared his throat and drew himself back to the present. "No, hardly a chance." He would have to talk to Malfoy, though. Hadn't he confessed to being along on several muggle-killings?

Lucy sighed. "Well, then, you're at a dead end?"

"Yes. It was definitely one of the organization, but we don't know and can't prove who. If we had a motive, we could probably narrow it down." But again, the vital link was missing. It was not a crime at random, but it was not one that had reason to be planned.

"How do you know it was a...'Death-Eating' person?" Audrey asked.

"The manner of the death." Percy said briskly. "And I'd prefer that you did not use that term, nor told anyone I said it." He told her.

She nodded, brushing aside his warning. "What was the cause of death? Was it some sort of poison?"

"No." Percy said slowly. "It wasn't. And that is something else you should prepare yourselves for."

They both waited.

"Even if the case is solved and closed, you may never know. The full report will probably never be released, and so some things...like the motive, the cause of death, you'll probably never learn."

"But we're his family!" Audrey protested.

Percy kept his eyes on his plate. "Regulation." He didn't have to look at her to know that she was miffed beyond words. An unpleasant huff of breath signified her displeasure. Percy noted his empty plate and wondered whether to go.

"Audrey." Lucy's voice cut through the silence. "Why don't you clear the plates? I think we're all ready for dessert."

Audrey met his eyes across the table. She looked tired, though not as tired as she had been a few nights before. "Sure, just a moment."

Dessert was eaten with some small talk and no more discussion of 'the case'. Audrey joined in, but he could tell she was still annoyed. She had a similar way as his mother of signifying her displeasure without really being open about it. Or maybe he was just perceptive. At the end of the meal, both women rose to clean the kitchen. Percy rose with them, offering to stay and help.

"Oh, no it's fine, I can do it." Audrey waved him off.

"No, I'd be happy to help." He insisted.

With a shrug, she let him follow her back into the kitchen and set the dishes in the sink. "Suit yourself." She let Percy take a sponge and start to scrub.

"It's very generous of you, Percy." Lucy smiled, encouraging Audrey behind the redhead's back.

"Yes." Audrey picked up her mother's signal. "I don't suppose you get to do the dishes often."

He gave what sounded suspiciously like a snort. "More often than you'd think."

"Oh? I had you rather pegged for the office type."

He gave her a wry look. Still trying to compensate for making her mad, probably. Still thought she was a hormonal, obsessed oddball who had nothing better to do but stress about her dead father. She pulled herself back to what he was saying. "I will have you know," He informed her, "That I grew doing dishes. Along with many other chores. On a farm."

"A farm?" In spite of herself, she was surprised.

"A chicken farm."

She bit back a laugh. "Forgive me the stereotype."

He shrugged. "Some things you can't help."

Oh, so now he was being clever, drawing allusions to his imaginary childhood on a chicken farm and his job that required him not to tell her the truth. About her father. She looked at him directly. "I understand your little analogy, Mr. Weasley." She said, taking the first dish he offered her and sticking it in the dishwasher. "But I think it's a pretty weak one, especially when you're talking about real people, real lives. Do you mean to say that you actually do this for a living? Solve cases and then don't tell people that they're solved?"

"In some instances, yes, that is the duty of certain offices." Audrey turned from putting away a bowl and caught him giving the dishwasher a long, queer look.

She crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for him to finish scrubbing a plate. "Have you ever lost anyone you really loved, Mr. Weasley?" She demanded harshly, emphasizing use of his last name rather than his first. Her mother gave her a punishing look behind his back.

"As a matter of fact, I have." He replied, abruptly turning to hand her the dish.

"Imagine it had been an instance like mine. Wouldn't you want to know who and why? Wouldn't you want justice?"

"Justice can be got without you being told, Miss Bones." He reminded her.

"And why can't we be told?" Lucy interrupted, trying to bring the conversation to a less personal level, an easier plain.

"Because," Percy responded, jumping at the chance to get away from reference to his own problems. "The organization in question is involved in many covert affairs, many very far-reaching, and we cannot release the instances of one crime without revealing certain items of them all. Secrets of monumental importance to our Ministry." He gave Audrey a frown and another dish.

She turned partly to place it in the washer and partly to hide her face. Was it that big a deal? What exactly had her father gotten himself into? She turned to take the cutlery and caught her mother's eye. Lucy Bones looked equally baffled. Percy had fallen silent, waiting for one of them to respond, or perhaps enjoying the momentary escape from their questions.

There was a long pause.

"So." Lucy tried to pull them back to lighter topics, as Audrey had lost all her air. "How long have you been in police work, Percy?"

"Police-" He shook his head then. "No, I'm not a policeman, or a detective."

"No? Then how..."

"No. I'm a secretary. Not an investigator at all, no." He said hastily. "I mean," He added belatedly, "Not that I don't relish the job I have, and I am resolved to accomplish the very best results in each and every-"

"Yes, yes, I understand the diplomatic drivel." Lucy waved a hand as Audrey closed the dishwasher and Percy began to scrub the sink. "As far as I can see, you are doing a good job. But I have to ask, if you don't enjoy it, and you don't do it for a living, how did you end up with a position like this?"

Percy put away the sponge. "Because my employer asked me to shift departments. He needed someone to investigate crimes against Mug-er, that is to say, certain closed cases, and I got the job. As soon as I'm done with all my cases I'll go back to...writing memos and all that." He'd spent a few days as Shacklebolt's assistant in the midst of all the post-battle confusion. He was sincerely hoping to get the position back, considering that the two had experience together and the job was up for grabs. Of course, he never would if he didn't wrap up neatly the duties he had now...

"Ah." Lucy nodded. "That makes sense."

"So you're just a secretary?" Audrey asked skeptically. He turned and looked down at her.

"Problem?"

"No." Audrey glanced back up at him as she scrubbed the counter. "I suppose if you've solved other cases you're all right." She looked up at him. "How many case have you worked?"

"I was given a list of...quite a few to investigate to closure."

"How many do you have left to close?"

"Three." He said. "Not counting your father's."

"How long have you been on it?"

"Since May 12th." He said. Ten days after the fall of Hogwarts, nine days after the fall of the Ministry, only a short week after Shacklebolt had been made minister. He didn't know entirely what day today was, so he couldn't have said just how many days he had been on it. Was it July the eighteenth? No...

Lucy put away the last of the leftovers. "Well, that's it, I suppose."

"Right." Percy checked himself. "Thank you for the dinner."

"Thank you." Lucy smiled. "For your help, on the case and in the kitchen." They both saw him out. He swung the door open, and Lucy paused. "Do you have a car, Percy?"

He glanced out at the empty drive. "Oh, er...no. I walked."

"Is it far?" Audrey asked.

"No." He fibbed.

"Would you..." Audrey glanced at her mother. "Would you mind if I walked with you?"

"Er...no..." He shoved his hands in his pockets. He'd apparated-the Muggle building he lived in was near the ministry telephone booth, in a whole other part of town, and not particularly a good one. He'd simply have to get rid of her on the way. Or he could confund her, but that would be hard to explain...

"I'll just get my jumper." She disappeared for a moment and then reappeared and followed him out. "I'll be back, Mum."

They walked down the street together. He turned a corner aimlessly, not sure where he was going.

"Um, the best way out the neighborhood is that way."

"Right." He turned completely around and began walking the other way. "Just distracted."

"Look." She began. "I didn't mean to sound pushy or emotional. This is just something that's really important to me right now. I didn't mean to be ugly back there, or unnecessarily rude."

"Copacetic." He murmured. An apology? That's the only reason she'd come and got him into an awkward situation in which apparition was impossible?

She sighed. "Sure it is."

"I assure you, Miss Bones-"

"Audrey."

"Yes, Audrey, I assure you, I understand your meaning and I thank you. No offense was taken. I hardly believe you to be out of line in your sentiment."

Audrey gnawed her lip. "It's a difficult situation, I know you must have dealt with the stereotypical obsessed relative before. I don't mean to come across like that. It was a year ago, but it still matters, and I'm sure you're doing everything you can."

"I am, and you're not." He said. "Er, obsessed, that is. Coming across that way. I know the experience is difficult."

Not likely. She recalled what he'd said earlier about losing people and tentatively posed the question again. "Have you ever had someone close to you killed? Deliberately?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"You are angry, and you feel your world is threatened." Percy stated simply, flatly. "You want them to suffer for whatever reason. Perhaps you're frightened of them. Perhaps you want them to suffer for their wrong. Perhaps you know their death will make you feel better. Perhaps you simply don't believe they deserve to live anymore. So you want justice, you want them punished in whatever way. You want to know who did it, and you want them taken to account. You want to see their face."

"Yes." Audrey said quietly. "Pretty much that. And it's the last one-about not deserving to live."

"Not afraid?"

"Not anymore." She said. After a pause, "Does it ever go away? The wanting for justice?"

Percy shrugged. She ought to be telling him, not the other way around. Fred hadn't been dead three months. Her father was already a year and a half in the ground. "I suppose." He thought back to the red-hot anger he'd felt coursing in him the night of the battle. Half was adrenaline. For the few hours, he had felt rage, and it had sustained him to track Rookwood through the battle and cut him down with Charlie's help. If not quenched, if given time, he reasoned, the rage would have faded. It would have been there still, sometimes nearly forgotten, but sometimes so close to his mind he could lash out and wreck whatever was nearest at hand. It would attach itself to him like a leech and let be let go until satisfied, bursting out at the unhappiest of times. He supposed that was what Audrey was going through.

"With time, perhaps." He said. "You can know now that justice will be brought. Even if you don't know about it, the man's probably already dead. If not, he's in chains. Comfort yourself with that."

"It doesn't help." She sighed. "I don't just want justice. I want truth. I want to know, and I want to know who and why and everything. I'm one of those people who always wants to know everything."

"Pity." Oh, Godric, just like Hermione. Except more considerate and with nicer hair. Long, thick, black hair, which was unusual on a caucasian. He wondered briefly if it was natural.

They walked in silence for a moment more before Percy realized he had no idea where he was. "Er...I'm all off. I'd probably best find a bus from here."

"Yes." She said. "I haven't been paying attention to where we've been going, either." She looked about. "Oh, there. I can make my way back from here."

"I shall see you, then."

"Yes." She paused. "When?"

There was silence. Percy spread his hands. "Well...honestly, I don't know how much farther I can investigate. It's pretty much gone cold. I don't know...I could be calling you tomorrow to say it's closed." And she likely wouldn't want to see him then.

She bit her lip.

Unless...he talked to Malfoy. He stared down at her, again lit by garish muggle light. Her eyes were a pretty, unusual shade of gray…

"Well...I'll see what I can do." He told her. "Perhaps we could meet again...the day after tomorrow?"

"I have a class at one."

"At eleven, then?"

"At the same shop as usual?" She quirked a grin.

"Copacetic." He agreed. "I'll try to have something for you by then." Oh, Herpo's Basilisk, he'd better have something, because she was smiling at him again, just like last time. Well, last time had been a stupid grin. This was a sort of sweet smile, a small smile, but one that meant more. A good deal more.

He needed to go home.

"Bus stop's that way." She pointed. "I'll see you then."

"See you." He bade her farewell and followed her pointed finger. As soon as she was out of sight he apparated away to the alley behind his building and sprinted upstairs into his flat. He was feeling oddly happy as he unlocked the door and undid the charms over it.

He swung the door open and stepped inside and he was back in his world. Where Fred was dead and the government was ashambles and Emerson Gray had been bit by a wer-wolf and there were sadistic supremacists running amuck.

Damn.

He shoved down the familiar feeling of depression. If he had to run to the Leaky and start chugging butterbeer, he would not be depressed tonight. He reminded himself that his flat was not a prison, his world was not a cage. He could get out, he just had, he had been quite happy on a muggle street with a muggle girl, and if he had to personally pulverize Draco Malfoy, he was going to get information out of him. Tomorrow.

With that determination in his mind, he went to the shower, forcing himself to remember how he'd been actually comfortable with Lucy and with Audrey. And he would see them again soon.

Hopefully sooner than later.

And hopefully, not for the last time.