A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter.
A few swear words here, but nothing serious.
Chapter 8: Family History
Fool. Utter, utter, moron.
Percy landed with a pop and a thud at the Muggle Po-lice headquarters. He wasn't sure exactly kind of red tape would normally restrict a case file simply being handed over to him, but he had a badge to be used in emergency...and a wand if he needed to use a confundus.
It had been right there. All this time.
Adrenaline seemed to be flying, but he tried to contain himself, tried not to think about it. He knew, knew that this had to be it, this had to be the answer, but a small part of him preserved the rational argument that this, like so many other leads, might not pan out, might be nothing.
What had she said?
"I spent all my time at the restaurant...I was practically born there..."
He flashed his badge and stressed the urgency of getting the file. The man behind the desk gave him and his unfamiliar badge an odd look, but set to work.
But this couldn't be nothing. This had to be it. It had been itching at the back of his mind all this time, and there it was. If only he could get a handle on it, get a grasp and finally, finally finish this stupid case and get on to his new job...
"You say you come here often?"
"Yes, ever since I was a baby."
Within minutes, the file had been procured by some means of Muggle technology beyond Percy's understanding or care. He took it in its clean folder and turned, apparating as soon as he was off the street again.
At his apartment, he impatiently took down his security wards and shoved open the door, stumbled over his own feet on his way to the couch, and threw Audrey's file down atop the coffee table.
Now. Now he would read the whole story, from beginning to end.
.
George Weasley woke to a palpitating headache and a queasy stomach. He rolled off the bed, feeling just how hard it was beneath him. Standing unsteadily, he realized suddenly that he had no idea where he was.
It was dark. The bed was hard. He needed...
Firewhiskey.
Some light filtered in through a half open door, and he staggered toward it, stepped out, winced at the light. In the kitchen, he stared dumbly at the scrubbed cabinets, opened them one by one.
No firewhiskey.
Damn.
He turned and looked about, unsure. Liquor cabinet...he started for where he somehow knew the living room was. He did not remember where he was until he saw a flaming red head of hair hunched over on the sofa. Oh, yes.
There would be no firewhiskey here.
Damn.
He stood over his brother for a moment, before opening his mouth to croak. "Perzy?"
A strangled gasp and an unabashed curse slipped from Percy's mouth as he jumped. Papers were flying like confetti in a mess on the floor. "Holy—George!"
George stared at him blearily.
"What are you doing here?"
"You don' have any firewhiskey." George said stupidly, his voice cracking on the last word.
Percy stared at him, then took off his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. Replacing them, he took on an unfamiliar tone that was far easier on George's hangover-impaired hearing.
"No, George, I don't have any firewhiskey. Do you want some pumpkin juice?"
"No."
"How about milk? Anything?"
"Whiskey."
"George, I'm not giving you whiskey. You reek."
"What you doing?"
"I'm...working." Percy seemed to remember suddenly the papers he had scattered in his alarm, seemed surprised that he could have forgotten them. He knelt quickly and began to gather them, put them into a small stack and set them on the coffee table. "Come on, now, George, let's get you to bed."
"I just woke up."
"Well...It's night. It's time to sleep again." Percy began to guide George toward the bedroom. God knew what had possessed his brother to come here tonight, God knew how he had remembered all the security wards required to get into the flat, but he was here, Percy would just have to deal with him. The slightly scorched scent of firewhiskey was still on his brother. "Do you want to take a shower?" A bath was out of the question. He'd drown himself.
George nodded dumbly and Percy set him up with his usual efficiency. George just sat and stared at him as he scurried around, not fully sober. He must have been here hours, yet hadn't slept off the full effects of the alcohol. Hopefully a shower would clean him up a bit, as he seemed highly disinclined to go back to bed. He had stuck his lip out at the thought. Oh, Godric, but he was inebriated.
George struggled through the shower, and Percy gave him some of his own things to wear and threw his brother's clothes in the dirty laundry pile.
"You don' have any food."
"Is there something you want? That's not whiskey?" Percy added.
George yawned. "I want...potatoes. An' a pain potion." His hand went to his head.
Percy started off to the kitchen to discover that all his pain potions had been mysteriously drunk and the bottles smashed. What little food he had kept about was gone too, though most of it had spoilt months ago.
"George, I'll get you some pain potion, I'll just be right back." He promised, leaving George on the bed.
He took down the wards on his door and hurried out, in haste to get back.
.
"Here," Audrey turned up the stairs and stopped before number 2B. With a glance at her mother, she raised a hand and knocked. And waited a long moment.
No answer.
The women exchanged glances, and Audrey checked the address. Knocked again.
No answer. There was an odd sound to the knock.
She was about to knock a third time when footsteps caught her attention.
Percy was coming up the stairs at a hasty rate, a brown wrapped package in his hands. He topped the last step and stopped as the saw the two of them.
He took a moment to remember what was going on. Right. Audrey Bones. The case. Damn. He had forgotten-he'd asked them to come over not a half hour ago, and here they were, and now he had George on his hands. And in his hands, a package of pain potions and some food for George.
"Oh." That was as eloquent as he was going to get tonight, he realized as he tried to figure out a plan. What to do, what to say, how to keep George away from Audrey, how to fix this...all of this.
They were staring at him.
"Right. Sorry." He jumped at it. "Er..." The wards. He sidled between Audrey and the door, pretending to unlock it with a key as he took down the various spells he had deemed necessary in his post-war paranoia.
He pushed open the door, desperately hoping George was asleep again. "Take a seat. I'll just be a moment, I'm sorry I wasn't here. I had to run an errand."
"Fine." Audrey and her mother stepped toward the sofa as Percy disappeared into a back room.
"Oh, look at his library." Lucy gazed around appreciatively at the shelves lining the walls completely. There was not an ugly book among them, every volume given the dignity of a leather binding and some form of lettering on the spine. Audrey ran her hands along them, many in foreign languages, some in script she could not recognize.
A door closed and Audrey turned to find Percy reentering the room. She scrutinized him as he came forward.
He wasn't himself. The case seemed to have...flustered him out of the ordinary. His hair was ruffled up slightly, and the top button on his shirt was undone. He'd shed his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves. A thick, pale scar showed on one arm, and a hint of a tattoo peeked out from the opposite sleeve, surprising her. Somehow Percy Weasley did not seem the type for a tattoo. His expression was no longer reserved, drawn, professional. Tonight he just looked tired and...vulnerable. There was a long wooden stick hanging crookedly out his back pocket.
"Right." He gestured to the couch. "Sit. I've pulled what information I can on you and the circumstances of your birth. I'll need to talk to you both, and to...anyone else who might have been there, seen anything."
Audrey sat, but leaned forward. "So you think my adoption has something to do with the murder?"
"Likely." Was all he said. "Now. The 13th of January, 1977."
"My birthdate."
"What happened?"
Lucy jumped in. "One of the dishwashers at the restaurant found a baby in the bakery, a newborn. They called police and she would have gone into the foster system."
"Who left the baby?"
"You read the file." Audrey gestured to the mixed-up papers on his table. "No one knows. No one knows how I got into the building, because obviously anyone carrying a newborn would have been noticed. They must have come just before I was found, right in the middle of the dinner rush, and left without being seen."
"Is there anyone who worked there then I could talk to?" He steepled his fingers. "I'll need to talk to the dishwasher who found you, and a manager."
"They're both long gone." Lucy said. "Quit the restaurant after a few years. The manager then was named James, he moved to a better position in France and we lost contact."
"All right...If I can get a name for the dishwasher, I can get her story. I'll need to visit the Hall of Records, too..." Percy paused and ran his hand through his hair, messing it up more.
Lucy checked herself. "You've been working very hard, you must be tired. We can talk about this later."
"No..." He started to say.
Someone fumbled at the door. Someone in a rush. Percy's head shot up.
The door burst open and Bill rushed in, slamming it behind him. "Perce!"
"Bill—"
"Is George here? Have you seen him?"
Audrey glanced between the two men, aware of the distinct similarities, and differences. Both tall, lanky, both with bright red hair. The similarities ended there. While Percy dressed and appeared professional and aloof, this man was dressed in black leather and jeans, the air about him casual rather than reserved. This man's hair was long, even shaggy, his face covered with severe scarring. Despite the difficulty of discerning his expression through the scars, his tone was dripping worry and urgency, an urgency matched in the lines on Percy's face. Audrey suddenly began to get the uncomfortable feeling that she might not be the only problem on Percy Weasley's plate tonight.
"He's in my room." Percy replied. "What's going on?" He cast a hasty, almost careless glance at the two women as he followed the new man to the back of the flat. "Excuse me a moment."
"We've been looking everywhere for him, all over the country!" The stranger shut the door behind the two, but not completely. Audrey was subconsciously straining her ears to hear the rest. "Why didn't you tell us he was here? Where have you been?"
"I was...working. How was I to know you were looking for him?"
"We tried to get a hold of you. We checked here, and no one was here, and you weren't at your office." The stranger's tone was accusatory.
"Well, maybe when you were here you should have checked the bedroom. He must have been here hours before I got home."
"We did check the bedroom, and he wasn't here." The stranger snapped. "And why weren't you?"
There was a long pause before Percy replied stiffly, "I was working."
"Right, how could I have forgotten?" It was almost a shout this time. "You're always working!"
There was a long pause and Percy's tone grew quieter, so quiet Audrey had a hard time making out exactly what he said.
"You should have sent me a Patronus."
Percy could feel Bill's annoyance, knew that it was fueled by worry for his brother, yet didn't know how to appease it. He had been out, content, whilst Bill and Charlie had been apparating all over the country trying to catch a drunken George before he did something truly stupid. And he had remembered abruptly in the midst of trying to defend himself that there were two women in the next room, one a muggle, the other a muggle-raised squib, and they couldn't hear this. It simply wasn't professional.
But Bill's last words still stung with the familiar sting left over from the war days. Always working, you foul, power-hungry moron...
The long pause gave Bill a chance to catch a hold of himself and take a breath. "I didn't know if you were in the muggle world. It would have been risky." He said, also in a lowered tone. "I'll just...I'll just take him now."
"No." Percy said. "He's sleeping, let him lie."
He couldn't really see Bill's face in the dark, but he knew he was quirking one eyebrow. "Sure?"
"I'm sure. Send Charlie a Patronus, let him know."
"All right." Bill resolved quietly. "Go on out, then."
Percy sighed, ran his hands through his hair once more, and turned to go out again.
Audrey and Lucy were still sitting, talking quietly. When Lucy saw him coming, she stood. "I think we'd better go, Percy, if this isn't a good time." Her voice was compassionate. Pitying. And the last thing he wanted was pity.
"No." He said briskly. "First we need to see when we can talk again. If Michael Bones left any sort of testimony regarding finding Audrey, I'll need that. I'll also need adoption papers, and we'll have to get a blood sample from Audrey to see if it matches up to any Death…I mean, any criminals."
"Wait." Audrey looked up at him. "You're saying you think my biological parents did this? The murder, I mean?" The possibility that her parents might be the villains had obviously never crossed her mind.
Well, she was in for a shock. He stared down at her, again taking note of her eyes. They were pale gray in her heart shaped face. "They got rid of you, didn't they?"
"But..."
The door burst open again and Charlie nearly fell into the room. "George's here?"
"Bedroom." Percy said automatically, not even looking at his elder brother, but instead gathering the papers on the table. They were a mess. He was a mess. George was a mess. The entire evening was a mess.
He turned suddenly. "Wait, Charlie."
Charlie turned. "What?"
"How would I...If I needed to get an interview with someone in Azkaban, how would I do that?"
Charlie shrugged. "Talk to Shacklebolt, get permission, go to Azkaban, have a chat, come back."
"I mean, if I wanted to get them here."
Charlie shook his head. "Not happening. You know the rules. They go into Azkaban, they never come out. If you want to see an inmate, you go to them. And you'd have to talk to Shacklebolt, since he's probably one of the only people who knows where it is."
Percy rubbed his forehead. He knew that was true. He knew that the location to Azkaban was contained in the Minister's secret book. "Right. Thanks."
"Sure." Charlie turned and disappeared through the door.
Percy turned back to the Boneses. "Thank you for your time. I have some work to do."
"I'm sorry..."
"No, no. I asked you over first, and then he showed up right after..." Percy gestured vaguely, then dropped his hand and shrugged. "I shall be in contact."
Audrey paused on her way out the door. "Can you...can you tell me the name of my parents at least? You obviously have some idea..."
"No, not yet." He said. "I'll let you know when I know." He shut the door.
Audrey looked at her mother with worry. "What do you think?"
"I think that poor boy needs to relax." Her mother tugged her purse onto her shoulder as both started down the stairs. "And you know, your father and I did keep a journal together."
"I know. So?"
"And you know he wrote an entry the night he found you. I used to read it to you, when you were little. That might...help...I don't know."
Audrey tucked her arm into her mother's. "I think anything might help. I mean, who would have thought my being adopted would make this much a difference?"
"That's true..." Her mother's mind was elsewhere. "Poor boy."
Halfway down the stairs, they were passed by a fourth redhead, this one tall and bulky.
.
Percy downed a pain potion for his migraine, braced himself, and softly entered the bedroom, leaned against the doorjamb.
George was still splayed across the bed, snoring a little. He looked oddly like a baby to Percy right now. Like a tired-out little boy. Bill was half-lying on one side of him, and Charlie was on his other side.
Just like when they were kids, only then it had been Percy in the middle. At some point he had stopped being the brother who had to sleep securely in the middle. Now George was in his place. George needed help where FredandGeorge never had before, and Percy was relegated to finally being to one to whom he looked. He might have thought once he'd enjoy such a position of authority.
He wasn't enjoying it a bit.
"What do we do with him?" Charlie asked.
"He can stay the night. Or day. One of you had better go tell Mother and Father he's here."
"I already sent Dad a Patronus." Bill replied.
Pounding on the door. Percy sighed, went to the door, and took down the wards yet again. "You know, Ron, you do know all the spells..."
"I forget them. I remembered half of them."
"Did Mother send you?"
"She wants George at the Burrow. And she yelled at Lee."
"Where is Lee? Aren't he and Angelina supposed to be watching George? They do live with him."
"I think Lee's drunk, too, and Angelina..."
"Kicked him out, I hope." Percy had never liked that Lee Jordan, though his family considered him 'a good kid'. He was as bad an influence on the twins as they had been on him, in Percy's opinion. "Well, you go tell Mother that George isn't moving all night."
"I can't tell her that! She's already in a rage."
"Well then send Harry." Percy snapped irritably. "She'd never shout at him." He turned on his heel and returned to the bedroom, leaving Ron looking both puzzled and insulted at the same time.
Charlie and Bill were talking...something about Mundungus Fletcher. Percy tried to listen to them and work at the same time, gathered his things to get into the shower.
Tomorrow he had to see about getting to Azkaban.
And Mundungus Fletcher had been selling Lee Jordan certain substances...to use in more Wizard Wheezes products...
No, he'd get a paternity test first. He'd be sure, then he'd talk to Shacklebolt about Azkaban.
And if Lee had such substances, there was a chance George might have got a hold of them...
Actually going to Azkaban would be his last option. He hated that place, feared it.
They'd have to get the truth out of George once he was awake and sober.
And he'd have to fabricate some truth to satisfy the Boneses.
And they'd have to keep a watch on George, make sure he didn't disappear again...
Or wasn't that the duty of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee?
Who knew what he'd done while he was missing.
Percy shut the bathroom door and tried to clear his head with a hot shower and plenty of steam.
This morning he'd had nothing to do other than try to rack Audrey's brains for clues. Now he had too much to do.
Tomorrow would be a busy day.