Harry Potter 1. The Meeting

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
Hiding  
  
"Filthy, utterly filthy." Molly Weasley uttered in disgust, as her husband and Sirius Black ushered her through the not-so-grand halls of 12 Grimmauld Place. "Arthur, this place is infested with dark magic. You can't expect me to bring the children here. No one could sleep at night."  
  
"Well, I know it needs a bit of attention, Molly," Arthur patted her back, "But I thought it would be a tremendous project for you to tackle and the kids would keep busy helping you. If anyone can turn this house into a safe and comfortable place it is you." Molly's eyes narrowed dangerously at her husband's flattery and he dropped his eyes from her glare. "Besides, it's safe Molly. The safest place outside of Hogwarts."  
  
"Not to mention the fact that the company's so delightful!" Sirius added darkly. He had stopped suddenly in front of a portrait of an evil looking knight brandishing a bloody sword amongst a pile of dead bodies. The knight snarled at him and whipped the sword around in a threatening sort of way. "You have got to go, Cousin Ulrich the Ugly." As Sirius grabbed the portrait from the wall it began to scream what was sure to be old English profanity and attempted to jab at Sirius through the canvas. Around the hall the other portraits booed and hissed.  
  
"Careful Sirius, don't get to close to him," Molly warned as Sirius opened a closet and stuffed the portrait inside, slamming the doors against the black knight's curses.  
  
"He doesn't scare me. You got that, all of you?" Sirius called out to the walls. "You're all coming down and you best behave or it'll be a torch instead of the closet!" This threat brought a round of silence as many of the occupants left their frames  
  
"Come along, this way Molly, we'll be late." Arthur pushed Molly past Sirius and into what had obviously been the Black formal dining room.  
  
A large table stood at the center surrounded by heavy wooden chairs with detailed serpents carved into the arms and the Black family crest embroidered on the backs. Around the room the members of the Order of the Phoenix were chatting seriously amongst themselves. Mad Eye Moody nodded at Arthur and extended his hand. Molly looked around and spotted Bill and Charlie.  
  
"Hi Mum," Charlie grinned as Molly rushed to him. She gave him a large hug and then gave a quick peck on the cheek to Bill.  
  
"Boys how are you? Charlie what are you doing here? Are you staying? Can you come home tonight? You too, Bill, don't stay in this awful place."  
  
"No Mum," Charlie interrupted firmly. "I'm only here for tonight's meeting. I've got to get straight back, but," he paused, "I wouldn't want to miss this."  
  
At that moment Albus Dumbledore breezed into the room and Minerva McGonigall tapped her water glass three times with her wand making a brilliant bell sound echo through the room. "Let's all take our seats please, there's still much to accomplish this evening."  
  
The group sat quickly and all eyes turned quietly to Dumbledore, who sealed all doors but one before he spoke, "This evening's meeting was called to vote on the induction of a new member of the Order and to discuss his role within our midst. I will dispense with lengthy and formal introductions because I think you all know him. Arthur if you'll bring him in, please."  
  
Arthur rose and went to the one unsealed door at the back of the hall and reappeared with his son Percy. Percy stood tall and straight as his eyes surveyed the people around the table.  
  
"What, is Percy doing here?" Molly gasped as the door sealed behind them.  
  
**  
  
Percy paced the worn carpet of the small sitting room and went over his strategy for the 100th time. Project confidence. Stand tall, it makes you look older. Look people in the eye. He ran his hand through his curly red hair and took a deep breath thinking of who it was he would have to look in the eye. Bill and Charlie would be there. He didn't know if that thought made him feel better or worse. Professor Lupin, Professor McGonigall, Professor Dumbledore. His stomach did a flip. They would all know. Know what he did, or more precisely what he didn't do. Know how foolish he had been. What had Penelope told him? Learn from your mistakes and move on. The thought of her made his pulse slow. She said she loved him. She said he could make mistakes if she could too. She said she was proud of the person he was, not the job he had. He would do this for her. He would do this for Mr. Crouch. He would do this for the people he had let down. Suddenly his father stood in the door.  
  
"It's time, son." Percy took a deep breath and pulled himself straight to his full height. It was time to be a man.  
  
**  
  
Dumbledore pointed his wand between Charlie and Bill and the table expanded to include space for the extra chair that dropped magically from the ceiling. "Please join us Percy."  
  
Bill and Charlie gave their brother encouraging nods as did Professor McGonigall. Professor Snape eyed Percy with a curled lip as all eyes turned toward the Weasley family.  
  
"Why didn't anyone tell me about this?" Molly asked around the table and several eyes lowered to study their hands. "Arthur, what is going on?" Molly turned directly to her husband.  
  
"Molly, dear, Percy has volunteered for the Order, but his mission is unique and we can only discuss it in a closed meeting." he said quietly.  
  
"What do you mean his 'mission'?" Molly's voice was beginning to rise. "What mission? Isn't four Weasley's in the Order enough? Percy I demand to know what is this ridiculous talk about a 'mission.'" Molly had turned on her son and was slowly rising from her chair. Bill pulled her back down and offered a reassuring pat.  
  
"Molly, you are, of course, right." Dumbledore said gently. "You deserve a full explanation. Percy please tell us the circumstances that bring you here tonight."  
  
Percy cleared his throat and held his head up even though red splotches were cropping across his cheeks. "Everyone here knows the mistake I made last year, not questioning Mr. Crouch's absence. My naivete lead to Mr. Crouch's death at the hands of his own son."  
  
"What happened was not your fault." Molly said sharply. Percy cut his eyes toward his mother but continued quickly.  
  
"Despite my misjudgment, I have recently been offered a position as a junior assistant to the Minister of Magic. A promotion for which I am sure Fudge has ulterior motives."  
  
"To spy on us," Moody growled from across the table. "He is a slimy weasel."  
  
"Yes, well," Percy continued stiffly, "As Fudge has instructed all open supporters of Dumbledore to leave the ministry and as it is a position that would allow close access to the Minister and his dealings."  
  
"Oh no, no, no, no." Molly interrupted. "I can see where this is going. What were you all thinking? This will never work. First, take away the fact that Percy is only 19 and this is a position for an experienced wizard."  
  
"Mother, please." Percy whispered.  
  
"Well it is." Molly said sternly. "We all know Fudge is surrounding himself with known Death Eaters. If a slight slip came along that Percy was leaking to us, well, I don't want to think about it. Secondly, why in the world would the Minister trust a Weasley? It's laughable really! If Fudge suspects Arthur, why would he trust Arthur's son? I can't believe you haven't thought this all through!"  
  
Molly looked expectantly around the room and stillness fell over the entire table. From the far end Minerva McGonigall let out a small sniff as everyone slowly looked away from Molly. Even Snape seemed very interested in a portrait on the opposite wall.  
  
Molly began to panic in the silence. "What? Why are you all acting so strange? Arthur? Percy? Bill?" Molly turned to each in turn.  
  
"Mother," Percy said quietly, "we have thought it through, there is a way for it to work."  
  
"It would take some acting, Molly, on all our parts." Arthur added gently. "We'd have to pretend, we'd have to make them believe."  
  
"Believe what!" Molly almost shouted as she looked desperately around the room.  
  
"Mum," Bill continued, "In order for this to work Percy will have to completely cut ties with our family. Everyone who is not a member of the Order must believe that he has sided against us and with Fudge."  
  
"And that means everyone, Mum." Charlie added "including the rest of the family."  
  
"Shouldn't be too hard." Percy muttered.  
  
"No, no." Molly was shaking her head and beginning to cry. "Please Percy. Arthur this is too dangerous."  
  
"Mum, don't you know the danger I was in all last year?" Percy's voice raised with the same passionate streak as Molly's. "Someone died because I didn't do anything. Now is my chance to make a difference. I'll be smarter this time."  
  
"Actually Mum, the kid's pretty good at this." Bill grinned slyly at Percy, whose lip twitched slightly.  
  
"I'm afraid I must agree with the boy's mother," Professor Snape spoke from the far end of the room. "The boy has proved easily manipulated. How do we know he won't be influenced by the authority that will surround him?"  
  
"A fair question." Dumbledore replied. He turned steady blue eyes back to Percy. "Percy, can you answer Professor Snape?"  
  
Percy lowered his eyes for only a moment. "I have learned that I must answer first, not to any other man but to my own conscience. Those of you around this table have helped to shape my conscience, my mother, father, brothers and teachers. But in the end I answer to myself and I bear the responsibility for my choices. Tonight it is my choice to offer my life for this cause."  
  
There was silence around the table. "Are you sure, Percy?" Professor Lupin said gently. "You are young and you have much to live for. Are you sure you'd be willing to give it all up?" Percy looked at his mother as tears streamed down her cheeks. He thought of Ron and Ginny and the dangers they had faced. And he thought of Penelope. Penelope cold and hard, her soft curls turned to stone.  
  
"Yes, I am sure."  
  
Dumbledore broke the silence. "In order to proceed with a strategy of this nature it will require a unanimous vote and I think the time has come for a call. All those in favor of accepting Percy Ignatious Weasley into the Order of the Phoenix, please raise your wand. You must know that with your vote you swear to keep the nature of his work a secret as it protects not only his life but the mission of our Order."  
  
Bill and Charlie rose to their feet with Dumbledore and shot strings of light toward the center of the ceiling where they joined at a point. Arthur stood and lifted his wand as did Remus and Sirius. Soon beams of light were joining from all around the room. With a long cold stare, Snape stood. Percy took a deep breath and turned to look at his mother who watched him through red and puffy eyes. She offered him the smallest of smiles as she too rose from her chair, her wand bursting with fiery red sparks.  
  
"Well, Mr. Weasley, I think that should do it," Dumbledore said. "Please stand and join the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
Percy stood and sent a golden beam of light toward the others and when it connected a glimmering Phoenix burst from the multiple unions. It soared three times around the room before it disappeared into the ceiling.  
  
"Now." said Dumbledore "if everyone would retire to another room, we will leave the Weasely's to their good-byes."  
  
One by one the members came forward to shake Percy's hand and then they disappeared behind doors into the Black mansion. When they had all left, Dumbledore turned. "Molly, I am sorry for what you must do tonight."  
  
"No," said Molly with a look of resolution. "We will do what is necessary to protect all our children. We know that there is information they are not ready to handle."  
  
Dumbledore nodded sadly, but then turned to Percy with a hint of a smile. "I will go, but first, Percy, I believe there is one other person who will not easily believe your position on the ministry and who might be severely hurt by this charade."  
  
Bill and Charlie exchanged grins but Percy turned white instead of red. "Yes sir there is,"  
  
"I will give you this bit of advice," the older wizard said with a raised eyebrow. "While you may not divulge information. I cannot control what a smart Ravenclaw deduces for herself. If you should need help, let me know."  
  
"Yes sir, I can handle it."  
  
"I bet you can," Charlie snickered under his breath.  
  
"Good luck Percy. You'll hear from us soon." Dumbledore turned and was gone.  
  
Bill and Charlie smiled and embraced Percy, in turn. "We're proud of you little brother." Charlie said.  
  
"The only one who can pull this off," Bill grinned. "You always were a little sneak."  
  
"I'm glad I don't have to witness it tonight." Charlie said his face falling.  
  
Molly's lip trembled as she smoothed imaginary wrinkles from Percy's robe. "What are you going to do Percy? Where will you live? How will you cook? Who'll wash your clothes?"  
  
Percy looked seriously down at his mother and kissed her forehead. "I have a flat already arranged for tonight in London. And I think I'll learn to manage those other things."  
  
Molly threw her arms around his waist. "You are so stubborn and hard headed. Just like, just like."  
  
"Just like you Molly." Arthur finished. "Good luck son. I'm proud of you." Arthur shook his son's hand before pulling him into an embrace.  
  
"Father, for the things I am about to say tonight, I am truly sorry." Percy said.  
  
"Well, we shall put on a good show of it." Arthur sighed. They all looked at each other in silence for a long minute.  
  
"Well," Percy said at last. "So we begin."  
  
He turned his back to leave and continued walking, even as his mother's sobs echoed in the room behind him.  
  
**  
  
Chapter 2 coming - Penelope in the Park 


	2. Penelope in the Park

Here's Chapter Two - Beware, romance follows - Thanks SOO much to all those who have reviewed. It really really makes a difference!  
  
You guys know it's all JK Rowlings.  
  
Percy walked quickly through the woods in Regents Park. It was uncomfortable to be off the path, not to mention the fact that he was never very confident in muggle clothes, but he knew his apparition spot like the back of his hand. He knew the bench where he would find her. The sun was sinking quickly, casting an amber glow through the branches above, where tiny tree fairies were just beginning to emerge. Ahead he could see a burst of color as the sky reflected on the lake and he grabbed at a trunk to steady himself as he started down the steep slope toward the spot where small red boats were tied against the dock. His heart beat faster in anticipation. Soon, he would see her soon.  
  
She was sitting on the bench drinking a muggle soda with those odd muggle music players in her ears. Honestly, his father would go mad for this girl.  
  
He stopped to just look at her for a moment. The figure was almost too slender. The dark curls falling over her shoulders were controlled by a neat clasp. The nose was anything but a button. He held his breath as a smooth leg crossed and a narrow foot bounced in a gleaming white trainer. Oh God, Penny.  
  
He slid next to her on the bench, stretching an arm behind her, but she put up a finger in warning, looking left and right before she removed the headphones and drew her wand from her purse.  
  
"Repelio," she said calmly as she drew a circle around them.  
  
"No muggles?" Percy grinned.  
  
"No muggles," she replied as she leaned toward him.  
  
"You do that quite well, Miss Clearwater."  
  
"What is it I've always told you, Mr. Weasley?"  
  
"Practice Makes Perfect," they both recited, lips moving in perfect unison before locking together.  
  
It was like sinking into a warm bath and he was just enjoying the sensation of her fingers under the collar of his shirt when she broke away.  
  
"Quiz time," she laughed against his lips.  
  
"Ugh." Percy groaned. "Kiss first, talk later."  
  
"Sorry, my friend, that isn't how it works," Penelope giggled. "Today's subject is muggle music. Listen, I've made you a tape."  
  
"A what?" Percy asked stiffly.  
  
"A tape. It's a way that muggles trap music so that they can hear it over and over again. But you have to have a muggle machine to make it work. Here, you put these over your ears." She placed the contraption over Percy's ears and pressed a button. Percy jumped.  
  
"Not very comfortable is it?" Percy shouted as Penelope pointed out the off switch.  
  
"You're yelling, dear." she smiled. "You get used to them pretty quickly. Now, here's your quiz," Penelope continued with a mock serious expression. "Name the muggle group who is playing."  
  
Percy listened intently with a puzzled look on his face and then removed the headphones.  
  
"I think it's the bug band."  
  
Penelope rolled her eyes to the sky.  
  
"Well, am I right?"  
  
"The Beatles, boy, the Beatles. What country were you raised in?" She laughed and grabbed his face between her hands, which led to another round of heated kisses.  
  
"Ah yes, the Beatles. I'll have to remember that," Percy muttered distractedly. "God, I've missed you."  
  
"And I've missed you," Penny whispered against his ear. "And I have some important news for you."  
  
He pulled back and surveyed her, trying to keep his expression blank. "I have some news, too."  
  
"Really?" she bubbled. "You go first."  
  
"No, no," Percy braved a smile. "You first."  
  
"O.K.," Penny grinned with excitement. "I have been accepted at St. Mungo's! I start first year Healer training next month!"  
  
Percy puffed with pride, "Outstanding, Penelope, I knew you could do it!"  
  
Penelope rushed on, "And I told my grandmother and she said, 'witch or not, healing was a noble profession' and she is going to help me pay for a flat. My own flat, Percy! What do you think? Should I look in Diagon Alley or should I get closer to St. Mungo's. Of course, I don't mind a muggle flat if you'd help me with the protection charms. Can you believe it? My own flat - some place private," she slowed and looked down coyly while she traced a circle on Percy's knee with her fingernail.  
  
"Private is excellent," he answered quietly, as he gazed across the lake.  
  
Penelope's smile faltered at his troubled expression, "Percy, what's wrong?"  
  
He sighed, and turned, taking both of her hands in his own. "I need you to listen to me very carefully. I have a present for you and then I have something serious to tell you."  
  
Penelope looked confused and opened her mouth to speak but somehow thought better of it. She nodded slowly.  
  
Percy reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a round rock the size of a small orange,  
  
"This is for you."  
  
Penelope took the rock and turned it around in her hand. This was a puzzle. She tapped it with her wand and muttered a few spells over it. Percy leaned back admiring her frustration.  
  
"O.K., I give up. It's a rock."  
  
"No, you just haven't unlocked the magic yet."  
  
"Alright, alright. What am I supposed to do?"  
  
"You have to kiss it," Percy grinned.  
  
"Really, Percy, you're doing this to make fun of me."  
  
"No, not at all. Go ahead. The magic can only be unlocked by the kisses of the fair Penelope."  
  
With a roll of her eyes, Penelope brought the rock to her lips. Suddenly, the rock began to glow and its rough exterior changed to crystal. Inside a scene began to form - flowers and trees, a lake. A red-haired boy and a dark-haired girl sat on a bench, close together.  
  
"Percy, it's our spot, here in the park. Oh it's beautiful. I love it."  
  
Slowly, the light left the sphere and it began to darken, turning back into a plain gray rock.  
  
Percy lifted Penelope's chin as she gazed sadly down at the cold stone.  
  
"You see, Penelope, it isn't what it appears to be."  
  
"What do you need to tell me?" she whispered.  
  
Percy locked eyes with her, "Do you trust me, Pen?"  
  
"You know I do."  
  
"I have been offered a position at the Ministry as a Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic. It is a position I cannot refuse as it offers a tremendous opportunity."  
  
He paused for a moment letting his words sink in. Penelope sat in silence.  
  
"This position will require the appearance of the utmost loyalty to the goals and aims of the Ministry. This, of course, conflicts with my family's views, so I therefore have found it necessary to move out of my parents' home and will not be speaking with them."  
  
Penelope's face lost all emotion.  
  
"What is more, I must not be seen to associate with anyone who is a supporter of Dumbledore or who believes the statements made last month at Hogwarts."  
  
"That's enough," she interrupted.  
  
She stood rapidly and walked to the edge of the lake. Percy watched her aim her wand at the water causing little fountains to spurt up before he rose and walked down to stand beside her.  
  
"It's just like before, you know," she said bitterly. "I'm tired of it, Percy, sneaking and hiding. I, I thought we were ready for more. For all the world to know."  
  
Percy placed his hands in his pockets. He knew what she meant, knew where they were headed, but the time wasn't right. Not yet.  
  
"They will, Pen, I promise you," he said softly. "I know it's a lot to ask, but you have to be patient."  
  
"It's just not fair."  
  
"No, it's not. I'm afraid nothing is fair right now."  
  
He took out his own wand and moved behind her. Placing his wand next to hers in her right hand and covering her hand with his own, he pulled her close.  
  
"Ready?" he whispered.  
  
She nodded slowly drawing in her breath.  
  
"On three, then. One - two - three -"  
  
Together they aimed for the center of the lake and a fountain erupted like brilliant fireworks, so high and glorious it reached the top of the trees.  
  
Slowly the waves across the lake calmed. They leaned together in silence for a while, not needing to say anything, but watching the sky turn from violet to indigo.  
  
At last Penelope pointed upward, "There's Venus. And up a little, there's Mars."  
  
"Venus is brighter, tonight." Percy smiled.  
  
She turned to rest her cheek on his chest, "Do you think we could stay here, just for a while?"  
  
"We'll stay as long as you like, my love."  
  
If anyone had walked along the lake of Regent's Park that night they would have heard the sound of water lapping against boats, a lonely screech owl crying from a willow tree, and the whispered pledges of two young lovers.  
  
But, of course, no one ever heard a thing. 


	3. Dreams and Reality

Once again, a HUGE thank you to my reviewers. You guys are the best and you make me want to keep writing. More romance - I just can't resist…

"Where have you been?" Percy scolded Hermes as his owl landed on the windowsill of the Executive Suite reception area. "You don't fool me, old chap. I know what you've been up to and I can't say that I blame you. I'd rather be with her, too."

Hermes let out an angry screech and eyed Percy in a dignified sort of way.

"Sorry, we can't go home quite yet. I have to finish copying these last few notes." 

Percy looked down at his fingers which he was sure were permanently stained. When he had first accepted this assignment within the Order he had visions of excitement and danger, sneaking around in an invisibility cloak and rifling through desks. Instead, all he did was keep notes. If Cornelius Fudge said it, Percy had it on paper. It was boring and tedious and Professor Dumbledore assured him, it would one day be important. Sometimes, he could not resist goading Fudge into more outlandish statements. It just made things more interesting, and the right encouraging remark worked wonders. However, tonight things weren't interesting at all. His usually neat handwriting was beginning to look messy and the letters on the page were beginning to blur. He lowered his head to get closer to the page. If he just rested his eyes for a minute, maybe just a moment, he – would – be – able – to –

__

He was sitting on a park bench in the middle of Snape's classroom. Beatles were flying around the ceiling singing a pleasant rhythmic song. Penelope was there and she was beautiful. She walked toward him, straddled his lap and began to kiss him. He was running his hands inside her shirt and she made lovely breathy sounds as she moved slowly against him. It was bliss. 

Suddenly, he looked up to see Ginny sitting at a desk twirling her hair with a quill. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh don't mind me," she smiled. "I'm just here to watch."

"Watch? Are you crazy?!"

"Oh, not at all. You set my example, Percy."

"And what an example it is!" said Fred, who along with George, was taking notes on a long piece of parchment across the room. "Don't worry, Perce. We're logging your every move."

"Consider it product research!" said George. "We're developing a new line of – "

"Stop it boys." Molly Weasley scolded as she sat knitting a sweater from her rocking chair. "You are doing beautifully, Percy. I am so proud of you. Just don't be afraid to use two hands on that bra strap, son."

"Ignore them," Penelope whispered as she undid a button and kissed down his neck.

Percy felt uncontrollable panic rising from within. "I can't ignore them!"

"Wrong answer, Weatherby," Mr. Crouch was now sitting next to them on the park bench drinking a cup of tea.

Percy jumped to his feet, knocking Penelope to the floor. "GO AWAY!"

"Percy, how could you?" she cried, looking up with a tear stained face before disappearing with a "pop".

"Penelope, wait! Not you! Please, don't leave me!" 

Fred and George rose to their feet with applause, as the beatles swooped down into his face.

Percy's eyes jerked open to the sight of black ink spilling across his desk and a moth fluttering around his candle. He had knocked the well over. He reached for his wand to repair the damage and looked sheepishly over at Hermes, who was eyeing him sternly. 

"I think I'm going to have to see her, Herm."

Suddenly, a paper airplane marked "Urgent, Minister of Magic" sailed onto his desk. He opened it out and smoothed the folds. It was from Mafalda Hophirk, in the Improper use of Magic Office. Percy's eyes skimmed the page. It was Harry. He had performed a Patronus in the middle of a muggle suburb. But how could this be? Harry was supposed to have guards following him. Something was dangerously wrong.

Percy opened his bottom drawer, took out the Phoenix feather quill and wrote quickly.

Professor Dumbledore,

Harry has performed a Patronus in front of a Muggle. Hophirk is on her way to the Minister's office. 

P.W.

As he wrote the words they disappeared from the page. He had just enough time to replace his quill before Umbridge was standing by his desk.

"This just arrived Madame Umbridge. It seems Potter has performed a Patronus." Umbridge snatched the paper from Percy's hand and he could have sworn a smile flit across her ugly face as she read.

"This is serious Weasley. You must notify the Minister immediately. The boy is finally showing his true colors. Egotistical and unbalanced – not a pretty combination."

Percy shook his head, "Blatant disregard for the law." He scratched out a floo message to Fudge and tossed it into the fire, calling "Ministerial Mansion" into the flames. 

"Good evening," Mafalda Hophirk appeared in the doorway. She was a large witch who towered above Umbridge, but she was always pleasant in a matter-of-fact sort of way. "I trust you've read my memo."

"Unbelievable." Umbridge was waving the paper in the air.

"It is definitely, serious," Hophirk nodded gravely. "We must send an owl to the boy's home."

"We should go immediately and destroy Potter's wand. We have no idea what he could do next," Umbridge raged.

"Excuse me Madam Umbridge, but don't you think we should wait on the Minister?" Percy questioned.

"The Minister is here." Fudge emerged from his office door. He was wearing a smoking jacket and carrying his pipe. "What's the word Weasley?"

"It's Harry Potter, sir. Improper use of Magic."

"Mafalda? What's our intelligence report?"

Hophirk handed the Minister a roll of parchment, which he unrolled and read while he paced the room.

"We've got him," Fudge rolled the parchment back up with glee. "It was only a matter of time. We're fortunate it happened so quickly. This will totally discredit the boy and we'll be able to keep him away from Dumbledore, break up their little mutual admiration society. Stop their power-mongering dead in its tracks. Mafalda, send an owl right away advising the boy that he is expelled from Hogwarts and that we will be there shortly to destroy his wand."

Hophirk nodded and apparated from the room.

"It's brilliant, Minister. You are a credit to the wizarding world." Umbridge cooed in her simpiest voice.

"Only with the help of my extremely dedicated and may I say, attractive, staff, Delores." Fudge winked. 

Percy swallowed the bile rising in his throat, but Fudge continued.

"Weasley, we need a press release. Draft something up. Ministry sadened…offers Potter mental health services…safety of citizens primary concern…so forth and so on. Tell the Prophet I'll speak to reporters from my office tomorrow at 10:00."

"Excellent sir, I'll get right on it."

"Don't you think it would be wise to hear from Harry before you call the press, Cornelius." Professor Dumbledore had appeared quietly in the corner of the office. Percy was careful to hold completely still, but he gave an inner sigh of relief. This had all been too close.

"Dumbledore? What are you doing here? How did you…?" Fudge had turned bright red.

"The Ministry is not the only one with intelligence. I've been keeping a close watch on Harry." Dumbledore said calmly.

"Well, then you must agree that casting a Patronus tonight in front of muggle is…"

"I shall wait to hear Harry's explanation as I'm sure you will," Dumbledore smiled.

"What possible explanation could there be? The law is clear and he has broken it, not once but repeatedly," Fudge said stiffly.

"Is the famous Harry Potter above the law, Dumbledore? Are we going to have two sets of rules for our citizens? One set for those born to priviledge and another for the common wizard?" Umbridge smiled sweetly and Percy raised his eyebrows. He had to admit it, she was a sly creature.

"No, of course not. If Harry has broken the law he must be punished. But don't exclude his rights. The ministry does not have the power to confiscate wands unless charges have been successfully proven. I will defer to the position of the Wizengamont."

"Potter and trouble seem to go hand in hand, Dumbledore. You cannot believe the Ministry will allow him to continue at Hogwarts."

"The Ministry has no business in whether or not students continue at Hogwarts. Harry's discipline there is my determination," Dumbledore said coolly. 

"We shall see about that," Fudge fumed. "So be it. Weasley, go and tell Mafalda Hophirk to set a date for a trial and notify the boy. He may keep his wand until then. I will personally, oversee his prosecution."

Dumbledore nodded slightly, "Thank you, Cornelius." And he turned quietly and walked out of the office.

Penelope stood in her tiny kitchen and tried, once again, to figure out how to make everything fit. She had designated one cabinet for potion ingrediants, one for potion storage, one for cauldrons, pots and scales, and one for actual food. That left no place for dishes, glasses, or table linens. There was simply not enough space and her counter overflowed with her carefully labeled jars that could not find a home. She was simply going to have to purchase a cupboard, that was all there was to it. Perhaps she could find one second hand and paint it. She just refused to give up space for her potions. Professor Snape had taught her well and now that she was starting at St. Mungo's she needed an extensive inventory. 

It was almost midnight. She really should just stop and go to bed, but it irked her to leave the job unfinished. She had found her little flat through a healer at St. Mungo's. It sat above the garage on his estate. There was a similar space above the garage at Clearwater Manor, but they had always used it for storage. Here, she had a sitting room that opened into her kitchen, a small bath and a separate bedroom. Grandmother had allowed her to bring some pieces from home and she had shrunk her four-poster, a love seat, a cushioned chair, and a few small tables, bringing them to London in her purse. She had purchased a rug, and a lovely wizard pastoral of some cows grazing in a country meadow. When she brought the painting home, the cows had been off on a distant hill, their bells making soft clinking sounds, but she found on her first night that they could move to the front of the picture and become quite noisy. She managed to scare them back by jumping around in front of the frame and shouting 'shoo, shoo'. All the same, she felt quite good about her first decorating venture. It was warm and feminine and was much more to her taste than the gothic style of Hogwarts. 

Still, even surrounded by things she loved, she sometimes felt lonely.

She was definitely, on her own now. No Ravenclaw girlfriends, no sweet Professor Flitwick, and no Percy. She sighed as she looked at her favorite photograph of the two of them together. Oliver had taken it during the Head Boy and Head Girl Party right before Percy had graduated. She had been so proud of him that night. It had been a splendid party. Granted, they both had a little too much to drink. Somehow, for just a minute, she had ended up riding around the room on Percy's back and Oliver (much to Percy's later embarrassment) had had a camera. Her photographic self leaned over Percy's shoulder and kissed his cheek , as he smiled, looking flushed and happy. The only problem was, whenever Percy in the photo caught anyone looking at the two of them, he promptly carried photographic Penelope behind the frame. "Come back, silly, it's just me," she said, stroking the picture with her finger.

Suddenly, a breeze caught her curtains and she heard a loud thump and a moan from her back yard. Her heart stopped and she felt a cold rush of fear. She was all alone. Her mind raced with safety precautions and she gripped her wand tightly in her right hand and reached slowly for a bottle of fire potion with her left. Moving as quietly as possible she crept toward the back door. Her hand was just reaching for the knob when Hermes flew through the open window.

Penelope didn't know whether to be relieved or not. "Hermes, you're back! Herm, I think someone is in my back yard."

The owl hooted and tapped her back door with its beak. Penelope grabbed her wand tightly and cracked open the door. Percy was sitting at the bottom of her back steps smiling sheepishly up at her.

"I think I sprained my ankle when I landed."

"You flew?"

"Yeah, I followed Hermes here."

Penelope rushed down the steps and pulled off Percy's shoe and sock as he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

"It's swelling but I can fix it. Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I'm OK."

"Lean on me and try not to put too much weight on it."

Penelope helped him maneuver up the steps but he stopped halfway.

"Wait – I forgot, before we go any further, you must ask me a question. Something only I know how to answer."

"Are you kidding?"

Percy grabbed Penelope's arm tightly and spoke to her intensely, "No, I'm serious. This is very important and you must get into the habit. Never, ever go with me or take me into your flat without making me answer. If I refuse or tease you or answer incorrectly, apparate away from me, immediately. Do you understand me, Penelope?"

"OK, OK, I understand."

Percy sat on the steps, "Ask me now."

"Um, alright," she muttered as she sat down beside him. "How much did I pay you for the infamous Ravenclaw-Gryffindor quidditch bet?"

Percy grinned, "Nothing. I lost my winnings on a second bet later that night."

Penelope smiled back, "Hello, Percy Weasley."

"Hello love. But Pen, you've got to do the same thing now. I've got to ask you a question."

"OK, shoot."

"Who's the chauffeur at Clearwater Manor?"

"Phillip, of course. Can we go inside, now and fix your ankle?"

"Yes, please."

Penelope pulled Percy into the sitting room then brought in a small cauldron of hot water into which she poured a bright blue powder.

"Soak in this," she instructed as she settled herself on the floor in front of him.

"Ah, so this is what you are learning at St. Mungo's?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Your mother could do this."

"Yes, but it wouldn't be as much fun."

"So, why are you here?"

"The truth?"

"Of course."

"I had a hard day and I missed you."

"Why did you have a hard day?"

"I can't really tell you."

Penelope sniffed and frowned, "I thought we didn't have secrets."

Percy looked down then looked back up sadly, "I can leave if you want."

"Don't be a prat. How's your ankle now?" She wrapped his foot in a fluffy towel before placing it on the floor.

"Excellent," Percy sighed as he removed his other shoe.

Penelope rose to take her cauldron back to the kitchen, "Do you like my flat?"

"I do. It's very, um, floral."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's good. I'm just not used to so many pretty things. My flat's pretty dull."

He wandered toward an open door and stopped in awe. Her four-poster stood covered with soft white pillows and a white goose down duvet. He felt her approach behind him and she slipped her arms around his waist.

"It's very comfortable, much better than park benches and blankets. Would you like to give it a try?"

Percy nodded slowly.

He moved silently to the bed and lay down flat on his back. She, likewise, lay flat on the other side and they both stared straight up at the ceiling for a full minute. 

"Penelope, this is indeed, a very comfortable bed."

"Thank you. I'm so glad you approve."

"I think we should sleep in this bed."

"Well it can definately be used for that purpose."

Percy pulled off his glasses and reached across her to place them on the bedside table. She lay there beneath him, her dark hair spread across the white pillow as she looked up, smiling, with love and trust in her eyes.

"Can you think of any other purposes?" 

"Maybe one or two," she whispered as he leaned down to kiss her and they pulled each other close. "I still can't believe you're really here. Do you feel like we are dreaming?"

There room was silent, no voices from his family, no ghosts of dead men, and no one in his mind and heart but her.

"No, my angel, believe me, this is better than dreaming."


	4. Past and Present

A/N: Dear readers and reviewers - thanks so much for taking the time to give me feedback! As always, your comments are soo appreciated!! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I had fun writing it. Definitely good to delve a little deeper into the Percy/Penelope dynamic. As you can tell the story parallels OotP, but their own story is starting to spin as well. Hope you enjoy!

Of course, it's all JK Rowlings…

***

It was a rainy Saturday. The perfect morning to do nothing but lie around in your pajamas. Penelope tucked her toes under a blanket on her loveseat and propped her Advanced Healing Potions text against a pillow. Percy sat at her small table munching on his fourth piece of toast, his long legs stretched into a second chair. He had given the Daily Prophet a once over then casually surveyed the rest of her mail. 

"Here's your Gringott's report, Pen."

She waved him off with a flip of her wrist.

"Don't you want to see it?"

"Not really," she muttered, "you tell me what's in it."

Percy gave her a wry look as he broke the seal on the report. He flipped through the pages several times before reaching for a quill and parchment, then leaned over the table to figure intensely, his glasses slipping to the end of his nose.

"Penelope, how much do pay for this flat?"

"30 Galleons a month. Why?"

He shook his head without answering and continued to turn over the pages from Gringotts, scratching quietly away. After several more minutes he cast her a suspicious look.

"How much are you spending a month at the Apothecary?"

"Gosh, I don't know, Percy. Is something wrong?"

He agitatedly tapped the quill on the table several times. "Come over here and sit down, Pen."

With a huff she marked her place in the book and joined him at the table.

"Penelope, you're running out of money."

"What do you mean?" she said, jerking the paper from his hand.

"Well by my calculations you've got enough to last you through Christmas but that's about it."

"Wait that's not right. Grandmother gave me a nice lump sum. She said it was enough for the whole year."

"Penny, how much was that cupboard over there?" Percy asked sternly.

"Well, it was kind of expensive, but I couldn't find a used one the right size and I had to have it, Percy, I just didn't have room for everything."

"How about that rug, and that painting, and that new muggle dress?"

"Last night you said you liked that dress," Penelope snapped.

Percy took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes and forehead, and took a deep breath. "Penelope Anne Constance Clearwater, you are spoiled."

"Excuse me?"

"You are spoiled. My mother could have made that amount of money last for nine people for two years."

"Your mother!" Penelope stood up quickly, "Well, maybe you should go have your toast and jam with her then!" she said as she slammed the door to the bedroom with a resounding thud.

Percy threw the Daily Prophet across the room and banged his head on the table. It wasn't so much that he was angry with her, after all, he had known her for four years now, he knew her faults. It was just that money had always been their big issue. No matter how hard he tried, he would always be the poor boy and she would always be the heiress. As much as he loved her, he would not live off of Clearwater money and if he was going to ask her to marry him, that complicated things immensely. 

"Penny, don't pout, it's unattractive," he shouted at the bedroom door. "Look, if you're going to spend Saturday locked in the bedroom, I'm going to work, so I'm coming in to get my clothes…Alohamora."

The door opened, then slammed back in his face. "You think I can't apparate into the bedroom?" he yelled.

"Why don't you try?" she yelled back.

Percy popped into the bedroom and had just enough time to register that she was sitting on the middle of the bed with a satisfied look on her face before he felt himself doused in cold water.

"Why Mr. Weasley, you're all wet," she smiled smugly. "Don't pout, Percy, it's unattractive." 

"You little…I ought to turn you over my knee."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

In one fell swoop he dove for her. He was skinny but he was quick and having five brothers had taught him a few things in the wrestling department. After some screaming and laughing and rolling around on the bed, he managed to pin her beneath him. And then he did what any other red-blooded boy in wet pajamas would do, he kissed her until she couldn't breath.

"Percy, we're having a fight," she said as she pulled away.

"Oh yeah," he panted, "I forgot, what was that about?"

"You called me spoiled."

"Did I?"

"Stop it. You know very well what it was all about." Penelope untangled herself from beneath him and scooted back against the headboard. "Now listen, I have something to tell you. I've made a decision. I'm going to get a job."

Percy began to laugh, "You are, are you? Doing what?"

"Well, I haven't quite worked that part out yet, but I will."

"Penelope, you're in school at St. Mungo's."

"Other people work and go to school."

"Yes, but…"

"Well then I can too…I will not ask Grandmother for another dime."

She sat with her arms crossed across her white eyelet nightgown, her hair messed and her jaw set. He had always been amazed by how she could seem so tough and so delicate all at the same time. His unbreakable china doll.

"Oh, Pen, I know you mean well, but you don't understand what you are saying. Not having money is hard, darling, and it hurts. It's not romantic. Penelope, I love you, but you've never had to go without, you don't know what it feels like."

"Well that's about to change."

"Penelope, in two years the entire Clearwater fortune is going to be yours."

"I know, all the more reason for me to do this. I need to figure out what I'm going to do with a fortune from a world I don't belong in. I can't make good decisions if I'm a spoiled rich girl."

He reached for her hand. "You are amazing and I love you. The truth is, I wish I could spoil you. If only I could, I'd buy you everything your heart desires."

She smiled and pushed the wet hair off his face, "My heart only desires you."

"Lucky you, you've already got that."

***

She had watched him for a full year, the red-headed Gryffindor prefect. He was interesting. She knew he made excellent grades. He was frequently in the library and she had noticed that Madam Pince seemed to like him. He would help her gather books from the empty carrels and sometimes he re-shelved things for her. He seemed very protective of the first year Gryffindors. He was always trying to help them succeed, even if he did come across a little bossy at times. And he was not bad looking. Not what you would call handsome, but he had a few nice parts, nice eyes, a straight nose, square shoulders.

It was the fact that she had noticed him that made that night in the library so horrible, so mortifyingly miserable. 

The simple explanation was that she was exhausted - exams, sleepless nights, pressure to make the grades. She had drifted off in the study carrel and fallen asleep on her book. Goodness knows other people did it. The problem was that what she did, what she said in her sleep could sometimes be disconcerting. She, of course, was used to her nightmares and the Ravenclaws in her year no longer mentioned them. So when he woke her that night from her whimpering she thought he had a lot of nerve.

"Excuse me, you need to wake up. The library is closing. Excuse me, um wake up."

He stood over her and she was confused and disoriented. He must have seen this in her eyes for he said, "You were having a bad dream."

"That's none of your business," she snapped.

"Fine. The library's closing. You need to get back to your dorm."

She stood and began to clear her books, but she was shaking. One minute she had been in a familiar misery, the next she was being embarrassed by this boy.

"Here, let me help you," he offered.

"No, no thank you. I've got it just fine. Sorry if I disturbed you, Mr. Weasley."

"Percy."

"Whatever," she said and she stalked off.

It was a few days later when she saw him looking at her and she was furious. How dare he stare at her across the Great Hall. He probably thought she was a freak. He'd probably told those silly little brothers of his and they'd tell everyone in the quidditch locker room. A nice little laugh they'd have about her moaning in her sleep. She didn't even want to think about the content of that conversation. Well screw them all and screw him. Who did he think he was, coming into her study carrel, anyway? A simple knock on the door would have done the trick. She was not going to let any self-centered, pompous, kind of cute, prefect intimidate her.

She strode toward him in the library. He glanced at her once but quickly looked back to his book. She flung the newspaper on top of his parchment. Ah ha! She had frightened him. Good. He looked completely taken aback. But people were looking. No need to cause a huge scene, so she sat down across from him and hissed, "That's me. That's what I dream about. So, go ahead and laugh at that, Mr. Weasley."

He looked at her like she had three heads. "What??"

And with a huge rush of horror, she realized she'd been wrong. Oh no, what had she just done? He hadn't talked or laughed about her. Why would he talk about her? He probably didn't even know her name. She was an idiot. She sat across from him making little fish movements with her mouth, while he picked up the muggle newspaper and began to read.

__

Clearwater Dies in Crash, Miracle Child Survives

London, Glasgow - Edmund Henry Clearwater III, 45, member of Parliament died Saturday when his plane crashed shortly after take off from a private air strip just outside Kent. The Clearwater family was leaving their summer home to visit family and attend to business in Glasgow. Also killed in the crash were Clearwater's wife, Priscilla, 38, son, Edmund IV, 12, and pilot Andrew Hammond, 33. Clearwater's daughter, Penelope, 7, the sole survivor of crash, was found hours later wandering in a field not far from the crash site. Dr. Benjamin Crawley of Kent examined the child. "It is a miracle unlike anything I've seen in fifty years of practicing medicine. The child is not even scratched and the impact of this crash was devastating." 

Clearwater, was president of Clearwater Holdings and had followed his late father Edmund Clearwater II into Parliament in 1982. A full investigation into the cause of the crash is pending.

"You apparated?" he whispered. 

She nodded.

"Do you remember it?"

"Perfectly. I dream it over and over again. My mother was whispering she loved me and to hold her tight and I was wishing I was safe in my own room and then all of a sudden, I was. I fell asleep in my own bed and when I woke back up, I was in a dark field and they were all gone. I had saved myself but I couldn't save them."

"You were a child," he said. He starred at her for a long time. She could tell his mind was working but his expression was difficult to read. At last he spoke. "Ice cream."

"What?"

"Would you like some ice cream?" He blushed then added quickly, "I'm a prefect you know, I uh, I know a few things."

"You know how to get ice cream?" 

He nodded mutely. She had no idea what was happening with this red-headed boy, but she knew where ever he was going she wanted to go too.

"Ice cream would be lovely. Lead on Mr. Weasley."

"Percy," he said.

***

At first he didn't know why he was waking. He was very warm and had kicked most of the covers off. Then he heard her next to him. She tossed and muffled cries were coming from her chest, as if she was trying to call out but couldn't open her mouth. The wave of memory swept over him and he knew. He'd only experienced it that one time in the library but he would never forget it. During those horrible weeks when she was petrified he had been so worried, afraid she was trapped in a nightmare from which she couldn't escape. 

This whole sleeping together thing was still new and he felt completely responsible to do everything exactly right. He lit the lamp and tried to wake her gently, but calling her name and stroking her hair was not enough. He physically sat her up and she grabbed roughly at him, but her eyes fluttered open. 

"You're OK. It was a bad dream. See? You're safe in your own bed. I'm going to get you a glass of water." 

When he returned, she accepted the glass with a shaking hand.

"Were you on the plane?" he asked.

She nodded as she wiped the tears and drank down the water.

"Penelope, I thought the nightmares had stopped."

"They had," she said finding her voice. "I haven't had one in years and then all of sudden they started back last week. Except now they're different."

"How are they different?"

"Well, when I was younger, I just relived the crash over and over. I saw my mother and my brother. I felt the plane falling. I felt their fear and panic. But in this new dream, the plane isn't crashing and I'm not me, I'm…I'm my mother, I guess. And there is another child sitting beside me and as we are flying along the child just disappears. I start to panic because I know something horrible has happened to the child, but I can't get off the plane to find him…her…that's the other strange thing, every time I have the dream I see a different child. This time it was a little boy with very blonde hair."

"You've been under a lot of stress, a lot of big changes in your life. This is a very natural...."

"No…it's not natural. It's evil. It's danger. I don't know how to explain it, Percy, but the dream means something. Something is happening to the children. Do you believe me?"

Percy tucked her back under the covers and his mind wandered over the evil he knew was growing every day. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I believe you, darling. Now close your eyes and go back to sleep."

***

Seven o'clock. The Ministry was just beginning to hum with morning activity. He had to admit, as much as he hated his current circumstances, he loved this place. He had loved it since he was a little boy. It bustled with energy. He loved the pace of it, the variety of it, everyone moving with a purpose. 

It was Thursday, which meant tomorrow was Friday, which meant the weekend and seeing Penelope, which was good. No queues had formed yet and he walked with a happy brisk pace through the lobby, through security and onto the lift. 

"Good morning, Weasley."

"Good morning, Shacklebolt."

"You seem in a chipper mood."

"Well, it's almost the weekend and payday, you know."

"Big plans for your check, boy?"

"Maybe."

"Don't spend it all on women and the pub."

"As if." Percy gave him his hautiest glare, but Shaklebolt only laughed deeply and exited the lift as Percy continued upward another level. The intercom voice spoke sweetly, Level One, Executive Suite, Offices of the Minister of Magic.

Percy's first stop was Miss Maura Daugherty. The elderly receptionist had been at the Ministry for 25 years. He had figured out very quickly that the plump witch with bright orange hair was someone you wanted on your side.

"Good morning, Miss Maura."

"Good mornin', Percy dear. He wants to see you right away."

"Already?"

"Yes, I don't know what's going on, but whatever it is, he's in a bit of a stew over it. Memo's flying in and out of this office like you wouldn't believe. See, here comes one now." She opened the flying memo, read it quickly, then handed it to Percy. "This has something to do with the Wizengamot. He's in there right now with Umbridge and Madam Bones. You better go, dearie. Take that memo with you."

Percy scooted quickly past her through a second door, grabbed a quill and parchment off his own little desk and entered Fudge's private office. Madam Umbridge and Madam Bones sat in large red velvet chairs across from Fudge. Umbridge was looking peculiarly smug while Madam Bones looked serious.

"Weasley, you're here."

"Yes sir, this memo just arrived for you."

Fudge surveyed the paper. "Good, that's the last one. Weasley, it has become necessary to change the time and location of the Potter hearing. The Wizengamot will be meeting in courtroom ten in exactly 45 minutes. We have sent an owl to the Potter boy to inform him of the change. I want you to prepare your parchment and quills. You will be court scribe."

"Yes sir."

Take minutes, Weasley, I want to review with Madam Bones and Madam Umbridge our procedure for this hearing. 

"Yes sir, of course."

Percy thought they would never stop. He was sure Professor Dumbledore and Harry did not know of the time change. He scribbled away and silently watched the large mantle clock tick. At last at ten till eight Fudge rose to put on his most elegant robe and Umbridge and Bones left the office. Percy slipped out behind them and rushed to his desk. 

He pulled out his phoenix feather quill and scribbled a note containing the time and location change to Professor Dumbledore. As always, the words faded from his paper as soon as he wrote them. 

What to do next? He couldn't send a message to Grimauld Place, it was too late and would be too dangerous, anyway. If they hadn't left yet, they'd be in serious trouble. Maybe his Dad was on his way. He scribbled an unsigned interdepartmental memo to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department, marked it urgent in huge red letters and sent it flying. He gathered up an armful of quills and rolls of parchment just as Fudge and Umbridge emerged from their offices. With a silent nod, he followed them to the Executive Office express lift.

Witches and wizards filed into the courtroom. Why in the world would they want to have a hearing in this awful old place, Percy thought as the time ticked by 8:01, 8:05. 

"If he does not show up for his hearing…" Fudge began.

"Patience, Minister, I have plenty of time," Madam Bones interjected.

Finally at 8:10 the door burst open and a very young and very frightened looking Harry Potter was thrust into the room. Percy said a silent prayer of gratitude. He could not look at Harry. He could not give himself away and so he fixed his eyes downward on his parchment. 

A minute later, Professor Dumbledore walked calmly into the room and he knew Harry had a chance. Still, Fudge hammered away about Harry's Patronus and his voice rose angrily, as the wizards around Percy murmured their agreement.

'Get mad Harry,' Percy thought. 'Tell them the truth. Tell them about the dementors.' He looked straight at Harry, raised his eyebrows, and gave a smug nod. It worked. Harry burst forth about the dementors. Who would have thought, years of goading little brothers would come in so handy.

At long last, it was over. Fudge and Umbridge left in a huff and Percy knew the rest of the day was going to be pure hell. He gathered his quills and parchment and allowed everyone else to leave in front of him. He could see his father with Harry waiting beside the door. His father's head was bowed as the crowd moved out. 

Now came the hardest part of this charade. Percy kept his eyes in front of him and felt his body tense as he walked by. For a split second he thought his father almost smiled as he passed, but then it was gone and he climbed alone up the stone steps and out of the dungeon.

***

He sat by himself at the end of the bar in the Owl's Nest and ordered a pint. What a miserable day. He knew he'd messed up last year with Mr. Crouch. He had been really foolish. But dammit, he'd run that department. Now, he was reduced to being Fudge's errand boy, taking notes and picking up freshly laundered robes. At least leaky cauldron bottoms had had a point.

He missed his Mum. He closed his eyes and imagined a wonderful Weasley spread, cornish hen, ham, potatoes and carrots, sheperd's pie, and berry trifle. When he opened his eyes his ale was on the counter and a stranger in a black hooded cloak had taken the stool next to him. He raised the ale to his lips just as the stranger said, "That one's on me."

In the golden bubbles of his glass, he saw a phoenix form, spread its wings and burst into flame. He turned to look at the hooded stranger. A twinkling eye behind half moon glasses winked at him.

"Thanks," Percy smiled looking straight ahead.

"You saved us today."

"Barely."

"Still, you did it."

Percy took another swig of ale. "How are the rabbits?"

"Ah, they are well. Celebrating tonight, because of you."

He felt a lonely pang, "That's good. I'm glad."

"Well," the stranger rose from his stool, "I must be going, enjoy your pint."

"Wait," Percy said. An small inner voice had been nagging at him, making him uneasy, "There is something else. It's probably nothing, really, but my…my…friend is having dreams. Dreams of children disappearing."

"Really?"

"Yes, she believes it's some sort of sign."

The man in the cloak sighed, "She's not the only one."

"What?"

"Mother rabbit has had them too."

Percy turned to him as the blood drained from his face. "But…but what does it mean?"

The man pulled the hooded robe tightly around him. "I wish I knew," he said, and then, he was gone.


	5. Brothers and Enemies

A/N: Dear readers and reviewers…Sorry this chapter took a month. August was really busy for me. I'll try to post chapter six more quickly. Never fear, though…I will not forget dear Percy and Penelope. I hope you enjoy. More intrigue and romance, of course. I love, love, love your feedback so give forth.

Hiding - Chapter 5

There were some really great things about living on your own. He could work as late as he wanted, no one cared. His freshly laundered towels would still be freshly laundered and that leftover panang curry in his cold cabinet would still be neatly wrapped and untouched. He had always craved privacy. Now he had it. There were, however, some things about living on your own that were just plain difficult. Coming home to an empty dark flat was the worst. 

It was almost 9:00 and it had been a long day. Tomorrow the news would hit. What had he called it? 'An exciting phase in the Minister's plan?' Lucious Malfoy's plan was more like it. Sometimes he thought Malfoy was just trying to keep Fudge distracted so that he was unaware of the Death Eaters under his nose. They'd gotten Sturgis Podmore. Percy shuddered as he thought of what had happened. First, Mr. Crouch and now Sturgis. 

Percy turned the key and lit the lamps. The room was almost bare, but from his window the skyline of London sparkled. He liked it. It was different from the mountains of Hogwarts or the fields and hedgerows of home. The door clicked shut and he swung his work satchel to the floor, heading straight for the panang curry. He was starving and his mouth watered as the pungent spices warmed. As he opened a drawer and started for a fork, a muscular arm wrapped around his neck. He felt his left elbow pulled up tight behind his body. He couldn't move and his mind raced as a quiet deep voice breathed against his ear, "What are you going to do now, Percy? Think hard."

His wand moved lightly against his chest in his inner robe pocket, but he couldn't reach it, not like this. He looked down and saw boots behind him. He could think of only one thing. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he rammed the heel of his own boot into the toe of his assailant. For a shocking second the grip slacked as the owner of the boots reacted. It was enough. He turned and ducked and apparated behind the sofa. Crouching low he fumbled quickly for his wand, took a deep breath and stood. "Get your hands off my dinner!"

The intruder stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth and grinned slyly, "Not too shabby little brother. Not exactly the most macho move, stepping on my foot, but it got the job done."

Percy sighed and collapsed to the sofa, "Hand me a butterbeer, Bill."

Bill relinquished the curry, then uncorked a butterbeer for Percy and one for himself. He tapped two large books that had appeared on the table. "I brought you two new text books. One is my old curse breaking text. It's really good. The other is Tonx's first year Auror text."

Percy grabbed excitedly at the books, "Thanks Bill. And tell Tonx I said 'thanks' too. I'll start reading them tonight." 

"What worries me is that you're not getting any hands-on practical work. You need to quicken your reflexes. You should be working out every day, Percy. When Charlie comes home he's going to want to test you, you know."

Percy swallowed, "I know. I'll work on it."

Bill sank to one of the small wooden chairs at the table and leaned back precariously, "Rough day, huh?"

"You could say that," Percy said dryly. "Umbridge will begin tomorrow as the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. She's going to wreak absolute havoc. I also don't like the idea of Malfoy having easier access to the school. He's definitely up to something." Percy looked up, "Bill, how's Mum? Has she been sleeping OK?"

Bill's eyes narrowed, "I don't know. Why do you ask?"

"Oh just something someone said."

"Mum's on edge, Perce. She almost let it slip the other day about you in front of the kids. She's frustrated with Sirius, worried about you, and really worried about Harry. Ron made prefect though, that cheered her considerably."

"I heard," Percy raised his eyebrows. "Did you know Umbridge, Malfoy and Fudge have already had a meeting to discuss the school prefects?"

"Why would they do that?"

"Well think about it. If one of their goals is to take over the school and turn students from Dumbledore, what better place to start than with the school leaders," Percy shook his head. "It won't work though, Ron's smart enough to see through Umbridge. What does he know about Harry?"

"Nothing. Harry doesn't know about Harry."

"Do you really think it's a good idea to keep him in the dark, Bill? I mean, I don't think Harry would ever intentionally hurt anyone but they've already put Mr. Crouch and Sturgis under the Imperius Curse. We've seen Ginny possessed. Now we think he's trying to enter Harry's mind and nobody's telling Ron? Not even telling him to be careful??" Percy gritted his teeth, "If I had had some clue last year and not been so blind, maybe Mr. Crouch wouldn't be dead, maybe we wouldn't be in this entire mess."

"Listen, Perce, you've got to stop beating yourself up about that. Nobody knew what was going on with Mr. Crouch and it's not like you were the only one who worked with the man. Anyway, he was going to find a way back somehow, so now we have to deal with it. I know how you feel about Ron, but I don't see any alternative. You can't expect to tell Ron something and not tell Harry, you know that won't work, and Dumbledore doesn't want Harry to know yet, so we just have to trust for now."

Percy downed the last of his butterbeer, then stood and began to pace. "What if I could just give Ron a little warning. Just a 'heads up', you know?"

"How are you going to do that without blowing your cover? We need you where you are. You can't do anything to jeopardize your job."

"I'm not sure," Percy sighed. "But I'm going to think about it."

"Fair enough," Bill grinned as he uncorked his second bottle. "So on to your love life, little brother, how's the princess?"

"She's fine." 

"Spending some time over at her place aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Only that Kingsley Shacklebolt says you come in every Monday morning humming and puffed up like a peacock."

Percy turned three shades of red, "He didn't say that to Dad, did he?"

"No, no just me…so this is getting serious?"

Percy stiffened then relaxed at his brother's calm and steady expression "Bill, if I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?"

"Of course."

"I'm buying a ring. It's really expensive, so I have to put a little on it every month, but I figure by this summer I'll have paid it down enough." Percy pushed his glasses up and looked at Bill nervously, "What do you think?"

Bill looked stunned for a moment then started to laugh, "I think it's great! Good for you. Give us all a reason to get through this bloody mess. Whoa, can you imagine, Mum? She'll go ballistic. Poor Penelope won't be able to plan her own wedding."

"You cannot tell her, Bill!" Percy shook his head but a grin spread across his face, "Anyway, I'm not worried about Penny. She's pretty used to getting her own way."

Bill nodded, "I know a girl like that. What is it about the Weasley men and the women we choose?"

"Maybe one day we'll get them all in one room and watch the sparks fly." Percy chuckled then, studied the rim of his butterbeer, "That would definitely be…interesting."

Bill fixed his brother with a warm gaze, "One day we'll do it for sure. Listen, Perce, I've got to get back, but I came to give you an official message. If you are still set on it, Lupin and Sirius will meet you for your first lesson Friday night at 8:00 at Headquarters. Mum and Dad won't be there."

"Good."

"Percy, are you sure about this?"

"Oh, I'm positive."

"Well, it's your call. Just do me a big favor and be careful." Bill walked to the center of the room and smiled gently. "I'll see you around, little brother." 

Percy picked up the bottles and dishes, and flicked his wand at the sink. Sometimes he forgot he had older brothers. There had been times in his life that they hadn't seemed all that relevant. But then there were the times he had wanted nothing more than to make them proud and times they had reminded him, he wasn't alone. 

He went to his desk and pulled out some parchment and a quill. Perhaps Ron could not admire him the way he admired Bill. Perhaps he would even hate him. He would always be there, none the less.

****

Penelope stuck another cold mug under the draft and angled it slightly. She had been working behind the bar at the Owl's Nest for two weeks now and she felt she was beginning to get the hang of it. It was a friendly little pub where Ministry Wizards and other professionals came to relax after work. Day or night, the pub always had a warm dusky light that soaked the slick wooden bar. Patrons chattered over the latest wizard music and waitresses wore modern wizard clothes in black. It was all illusion. In reality, the kitchen was bright and noisy and smelled of grease and cleaning solutions and by the end of the night her pretty black dress smelled of sweat and food and beer. 

Percy had been less than thrilled when she had told him she was working in a pub, but he had seen the logic of the flexible hours and in the end he had said it was her decision. It wasn't really all that bad. It did take organizational skills and mixing drinks was kind of like mixing potions. She took an order, made change for a waitress, and delivered the frosty mugs to three legal wizards before she noticed that Percy had slipped in. It was hard to contain the joy of seeing him. What she wanted was to tell everyone in the room that the person she was in love with, the kindest, bravest, noblest person in the world was sitting all alone at the end of the bar. Instead she had to pretend she didn't know him. 

"What can I get you?"

"How about a Bacchanal Brew?"

"On draft?"

"A bottle's fine."

The legal wizards at the other end of the bar were beginning to get drunk. They whispered and chuckled deeply as they watched her.

"Hey, what's your name?" the one with dark hair called.

"Penelope."

"Penelope, that's a pretty name. Do you have a boyfriend, Penelope?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

"My friend here, was wondering what you're doing when you get off work."

"Nothing with your friend, that's for sure. One more round, boys? Then I think you better call it quits."

"Don't play hard to get, pretty Penelope."

"Oh but I am."

Oscar, the manager arrived just in time, and he pursed his lips beneath his shaggy handle bar mustache. "Penelope, we need four more cases of mulled mead from the cellar. You're going to need some help getting all that up."

The legal wizards all stood at once, but Oscar eyed them wisely. "Cool your boots boys." He looked around and spotted Percy, "You down there, could you help this lady with some cases from the cellar?"

"Certainly," Percy replied.

Oscar turned on the downcast trio, "You don't really think I'd let you boys follow her down into cellar, do you? How about some coffee, on the house."

Penelope motioned for Percy to follow her into the kitchen, then opened a door on rickety steps descending into a black hole. 

"Better light your wand," she said as he started downward and she shut the door behind them.

"I thought I was going to punch those guys," Percy muttered angrily.

"Oh pooh, they're harmless," she said as she hurried down the steps then fell into his arms, "you, on the other hand…"

She didn't finish. She tried to tell him everything she felt without words. The cellar smelled of musty cold dirt, but he smelled of starched cotton and wool, of sweet aftershave mixed with salty white skin. "Come home with me tonight," she breathed.

He groaned, as if in pain, "It's against the rules, Pen. We've said only on weekends, remember?"

"I won't be here this weekend. I've got to go to Glasgow."

He looked concerned and pushed her hair behind her ears, "Why do you have to go to Glasgow? Is something wrong?"

Penelope nodded, "I got a letter from Iris today. Grandmother fell. It doesn't sound too serious. The muggle doctor said nothing was broken but she still wants to see me. I think she's starting to worry about some things. Iris said she wants me to meet with our attorney and go to a board meeting. Oh, Percy, I hate this, I hate it. I'm going to have to live some lie, some story grandmother has told them about where I am and what I'm doing. And then I'm going to have to stand up in front of those men in suits and they'll all look at me as, 'the strange girl with the money, the girl who should have died'."

Percy pulled her tight and buried his face in her hair, "I don't want you to say that ever, ever again. We're going to get through this Pen, we're going to beat them all, and when we do I promise you there will be no more pretending, no more hiding."

His kiss matched the intensity of his words. The fact that he approached everything intensely was her own selfish little secret. "Please Percy, come tonight. I'll be off in half an hour."

"I'll wait for you," he whispered.

Overhead, someone dropped a tray and the crash was followed by a loud profanity.

"We better get the mead, it's over here," she pointed at a stack of wooden crates in a corner. Percy levitated three toward the stairs as Penelope magically opened the door. "I'm right behind you," she called. She levitated the last crate and was startled as a rat ran into the black shadows. Penelope shuddered. "I guess this place is rat paradise," she said to herself as she followed Percy upward.

****

He met Professor Lupin and Sirius in the basement kitchen of the Black house. He could sense his mother's warmth in the room. Pots twinkled merrily from hooks along the walls, stacks of white dishes gleamed from the cupboard and the smell of herbs and roots mixed with the warm smoke from the fire. 

The two men at the long table seemed happy for the moment. Professor Lupin looked smaller to Percy every time he saw him, but tonight his smile was almost boyish. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Sirius Black laugh. To tell the truth it unnerved him slightly as he remembered Ron standing in front of him in outgrown pajamas with fear on his face and slashed linens on his bed. But that was the past, and tonight he would put those thoughts out of his mind. He was a student again.

"Welcome Percy, would you like something to drink?" Lupin signaled for Percy to sit at the table.

"No thanks. I really appreciate your doing this. I promise I am going to work really hard and perhaps I can learn quickly so we can set things in motion."

Professor Lupin looked down at his hands. "Before we begin, I want you to give me your oath on the phoenix that you will always use extreme caution. What you are undertaking could be the most dangerous mission in the Order."

"I should be doing it," Sirius remarked glumly.

"But you'd be recognized, Sirius, so it would be pointless," Percy replied.

"Yes, and unfortunately, I have time constraint issues," Lupin sighed. "So what you are offering to do is both very brave and very important. It is also very illegal, you do understand that Percy? If you want to back out it's really OK."

Percy swallowed hard. He was going to have to live with the consequences of this choice no matter what they were. "I understand. I brought him into my family, I'll be the one to see this through. But I promise, I will be careful."

"Alright then," Lupin continued, "Becoming an animagus requires an in-depth understanding of transfiguration but combines some of the principals you've learned about apparition. You've been apparating for over two years now and you've mastered level five. That's excellent. I know you were outstanding at Transfiguration as I've discussed the subject with Professor McGonigall. So you should move things along really quickly once you identify."

"Identify what?" Percy asked.

"Percy, have you picked your animal?"

"Oh yes, of course. I thought I'd be a rat too, that way I could follow in the same places, you know. Maybe talk to other rats, if you can do that sort of thing."

"Yes, you could and that would be logical but it may or may not work."

"Why wouldn't it work?"

"Well you can't always self transfigure into just any creature. You have to innately understand the creature."

"Big mistake number one," Sirius said darkly, "Not wondering why Peter could identify with a rat."

Lupin cleared his throat, "Yes well, moving on. If you want to try a rat what we need to do is work on seeing the world through a rat's perspective. Let's start with some cheese." Lupin crossed to the cupboard and brought out a plate of warm cheese. "This cheese should be particularly strong."

Percy sniffed. "It smells awful."

"But to a rat it would smell delicious. Look at the cheese, Percy. Smell the cheese. Now close your eyes and imagine the cheese from the perspective of a rat."

Percy closed his eyes and tried to imagine the cheese as something huge and beautiful. It smelled like day old vomit to him. Now he was imagining cheese covered in vomit. Oh God, this wasn't working at all. "I'm sorry, let me start again," he said.

"Take that stinking cheese away, Remus!" Sirius scoffed. "Look Percy, for me it helped to think about the physical aspects of the creature. How did dirt feel under my paw? How did fur feel on my back? Maybe if you think about feeling small and quick. Why don't you try getting down on your hands and knees and thinking about your tail and…"

"Wait a minute - You have GOT to be kidding!" Percy said horrified.

Remus rolled his eyes, "That was very helpful, Sirius. Thanks a lot."

"Sorry, it was just an idea," Sirius shrugged.

"Percy, if I may,"Lupin said gently, "I'm not sure a rat is really your animal. Do you even like rats?"

Percy thought about this. "Well, I did like Scabbers, once."

"That's a club," Sirius muttered bitterly.

"But," Percy continued, "I'm not sure I would ever want to see things from his perspective. That's really unimaginable to me."

"Percy, I think you have the talent to do this, but I don't think you'll ever transform into a rat. Just as James found Prongs and Sirius found Padfoot, you're going to have to find your own identity. Only you can do that. Why don't you think about it? Let us know when you're ready. We'll be here."

Later that night he sat at the small table in his flat and searched his mind for an animal he could identify with. A cat - no. A horse - no. A lion - no. A lot of good that would do, anyway. How would he spy on Peter Pettigrew as a lion? He felt like a failure. He had been so sure about this and now it seemed hopeless. Hermes landed in front of him and he stroked the soft feathers at the base of the owl's neck. The bird stared back at him with glowing eyes. Hermes always seemed to know things. Percy smiled at his pet, "What secrets do you keep, Hermes?" 

The owl moved closer and he became entranced by its steady gaze in the flickering candlelight. Slowly the table slipped away and he saw darkness. No, he was darkness. He was moving through branches and limbs with grace. He was flying, but not with some stick between his legs. Here he felt balanced and strong. Now he could see, see the landscape, see the ground. He dove and pulled legs that were sharp and deadly forward. He saw his goal, twitching and lurking in the tall grass. He stabbed once. It was done.

He was at the open window and the coming winter wind whisked curtains across his face. He turned and sank to the floor, resting against the wall. Hermes watched him, frozen on the table. "The rat catcher," Percy whispered. And he could have sworn the owl winked.

****

Far away, in the kitchen of the Burrow, a glass shattered to the floor as Molly Weasley tried to control a shaking hand. 

In a manor in Scotland, Penelope Clearwater screamed out in her sleep. 

And at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a certain librarian lay unconscious in the most restricted part of the restricted section.


	6. Going Home

Author's Note: My apologies that this has been too long in coming. All I can say is my life got extremely hectic there for a while and I will try to do better. Please review so I know you are still reading!

Chapter Six - Going Home 

Penelope watched the sunrise from the window seat of her bedroom. It was the beginning she liked the best, when the sky turned from black to a soft gray blue with stars still bright above. Below her, a mist floated over the manicured gardens and she pulled an unfamiliar blanket close under her chin. 

This had been her room at the Manor for as long as she could remember, but it showed no signs of the life of a teenage girl. After her first year at Hogwarts, Phillip had built her a special compartment in her closet and she had learned a magic locking charm, even at the age of 12. Only grandmother, Phillip and Iris knew the truth. To the rest of the house, the rest of the world, Penelope Clearwater attended an American boarding school. It had been easiest to just avoid people during the summer months. But she could write letters and from this window seat she had poured out her heart on paper. Imagining herself a princess trapped in a tower, she had waited for a handsome owl to swoop down to her window so she could exchange one precious piece of parchment for another. 

Over the years, she had learned that her prince could not always save her. Yet strangely enough, it didn't matter. Real love was so much grander than fantasy. She painted a small circle in the condensation on the window. Somewhere, under the same rising sun, her love lived and breathed. She murmured a silent prayer to keep him safe.

Grandmother had been asleep when she arrived last night. She would have to see her first thing this morning. After a long shower, Penelope stood in front of her closet pondering just the right muggle attire. Grandmother cared about appearances. She pulled on conservative navy pants and a neat cardigan, fastened her curls at the nape of her neck and dotted her ears with pearls. When she knew she could primp no longer, she made her way through the long hall, down a grand staircase and into the morning room. Her grandmother sat alone at the table making notes in a leather book while she ate off rose covered china. Penelope stole up and gave the woman a kiss on the cheek before she sat and fluffed a starched white linen across her lap.

"What is this I hear? You have countless gardeners and yet you trip while you are raking leaves? Please, Grandmother, raking leaves!"

"Well, what am I supposed to do? They just keep coming down!"

"This winter you'll be wanting a vacation on the ski slopes."

"No darling, give me a little credit. Though a trip to the Alps would be lovely, wouldn't it? Let me look at you. You look very well. I suppose you are learning all sorts of interesting new…um…things?"

"Yes, I am," Penelope grinned as she buttered a piece of toast. "It is very difficult, Grandmother, but it is wonderful to be around people who are as interested in healing as I am. St Mungo's is fascinating. It's huge, you know. You would not believe the things I have seen."

"I don't think I want to know," the elderly woman sighed as she sipped her tea. "But I am glad you are happy and doing well. You are comfortable in your flat?"

"Oh yes. It is small, but I like it."

"And your young man? What is his name?"

"Percy, Grandmother."

"Yes, Percy. How is he?"

"He's lovely, of course."

"We must see him."

Penelope almost choked. "Excuse me, Grandmother?"

"We must see him soon. He must come to Clearwater Manor."

"Grandmother, Percy's very busy. He has an important job with the Ministry of Magic. I'm not sure…"

"I think the boy can make some time to come here. Certainly he has time off during the holidays?"

"Well, I suppose…"

"Good, then that's settled. We'll enjoy the company of Mr. Percy…um…"

"Weasley, Grandmother."

"Mr. Percy Weasley during our Christmas holiday." Penelope watched her grandmother write in the leather book and she knew the case was closed.

"Now darling, this afternoon, I want you to meet with Mr. Norman Brown. He has been our attorney for many years and he has matters to discuss with you. I have instructed him to give you financial reports on Clearwater Holdings. I want you to study them this weekend and then attend the Board of Directors meeting early Monday morning. You do not have to speak at the meeting. Just observe, begin to learn names and faces. I will be with you, of course."

Thank you, Grandmother."

"Well, I have become exhausted by my breakfast. I believe I shall retire to my study for a while."

"Grandmother, will you let me do a magical exam of you? I know I am just beginning, but I brought a few magical medical instruments and a couple of potions that might make you feel worlds better. If you'd just let me, I'd…"

"No darling. No magic on me."

"But Grandmother, please, I could - "

"No, Penelope. No magic and that's final." The older woman laid a slender hand on Penny's shoulder and smiled. "It's good to have you home, dear."

After breakfast Penelope strolled out into the gardens. The images of the night still haunted her, leaving a constant dull stab in her chest, but the morning was bright and crisp and she was determined to shake this uneasy feeling. Percy would tell her not to waist time on things she couldn't change. She quickened her step as the pebbled path turned to worn dirt. Ahead she saw the stone caretaker's cottage hugged by a neat picket fence. She started to run, landing breathless in front of the door.

"Iris, Phillip, it's me. I'm home!"

Within seconds Penelope found herself being wrapped in the arms of the closest thing she had to a sister. Iris had been a teenager herself when she came to Clearwater Manor to be the governess to a sad, strange little girl. Perhaps her own youth had kept her mind and heart open, but she had never questioned Penelope, she had listened and slowly, she had come to believe. Phillip seemed to have understood Penelope from the beginning. He had once told her the mountains of Scotland were filled with magic and not much she could say would surprise him. Somehow in caring for her the two of them had come together. "You were our joint project, Penelope," Iris had told her. "And what an amazing project you were!" 

"Get in here." Iris pulled her through the door and she was thrust in front of a grinning Phillip who surveyed her with his arms crossed. 

"Are you not eating, girl? You're skinny enough as is."

"Phillip, Phillip, Phillip," Penelope sighed dramatically, "where is your hair going? You know I could fix that for you with a hair growth charm," she pulled her wand from her pocket with a straight face, "but then the side effects are messy."

"Put that thing away and sit down."

"Not until I see him. Where is he?"

"He's still asleep, believe it or not," Iris smiled. "Go take a peek."

Penelope tiptoed down a narrow hall, into a darkened bedroom and gazed down quietly on the soft sleeping bundle that was her 10 month old godson. Soft yellow curls blossomed from the nape of his neck and his lips were parted peacefully. He was innocence incarnate. She had no idea how long she had been starring at him when Iris pulled at her elbow and led her silently away.

Penelope kicked off her shoes and curled her feet under her as she sank into Phillip's cushy recliner. 

"Well, you are not going to believe this, but I have a job working in a pub."

"You are kidding!" Iris laughed as she settled next to Phillip on the sofa.

"Yes, and don't you dare tell Grandmother. I wanted to make my own money for a while. Pay for things myself. My boss at the pub is really nice and he lets me coordinate my hours with St. Mungo's."

"Your father would've approved," Phillip said "I think he'd be quite proud of you."

"Thank you, Phillip," Penelope smiled. "St. Mungo's is hard and sometimes scary, but I'm loving it."

"How is it scary?" Iris asked with her eyes wide.

"Oh magical folks get into magical messes and sometimes, well, let's just say there's a lot more than blood to be concerned with." Penelope's face darkened. "I want the truth about Grandmother. I tried to get her to let me give her an exam. I brought some potions that could help but she won't have it."

Phillip and Iris exchanged looks, and Phillip spoke first. "Penny, your grandmother is a wise woman. I'm sure she feels that she was born without magic, she's lived without magic and she'll die without magic."

"Well that's just ridiculous," Penelope huffed. 

"Is it?" Iris said softly. "Maybe when you have lived through your life you will feel differently. At any rate, you can't worry. She has the best medical care. Her doctor says her issues are perfectly natural for a woman her age. She's just slowing down a bit."

"She wants Percy to come here."

"Yes I know," Iris smiled. "I think that's good. Don't you?"

"You do realize it will be confusing for him. Percy grew up in a magical family, he went to a magical school, he works in a magical job. Simple things that you take for granted in this world will be completely foreign to him. Percy's not going to know how to turn on a light switch."

"You didn't know anything when you started at Hogwarts." Phillip said.

"No, but I didn't go there to be put on display or tested either," Penelope shot back.

"Nobody wants to test Percy," Iris said soothingly. "We just want to get to know him and if he is serious about you, he should want to know us. We all know he has been very kind to you and that you care about him, so that makes him tops in my book already."

Penelope immediately felt guilty, "I'm sorry. I want you to know him too. I guess I'm just nervous about it all. I'm nervous about everything. This afternoon I have to meet with an attorney."

Phillip scowled, "Norman Brown?"

"Yes." Penelope eyed Phillip suspiciously, "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't trust him. Dodgy if you ask me. Something about the man doesn't feel right."

"But my father hired him."

"Yes, Penny, he did. But that wasn't long before the accident. Your father never had much time to review his work. Afterwards your grandmother wouldn't change anything your father had done. I'm not a businessman, Penny, but I know a little about human nature. If I were you, I'd pay close attention to those financial reports."

There was a soft wimper from down the hall. "Daniel's awake. Do you want to help me with him, Pen?"

"Oh please!" Penelope said eagerly following Iris into the tiny nursery. Daniel was standing up in the crib waiting expectantly. Iris swooped him up and bustled to the closet and changing table. Penelope let him grab onto her finger and tried to distract Daniel while Iris changed his nappy. "He is lovely, Iris, so lovely. Can I hold him." 

"Of course, how many children have a real Fairy Godmother?" Iris laughed.

Penelope giggled "I'm not a fairy, I'm a witch. Believe me, you wouldn't want a real fairy for a Godmother."

Iris looked at her shyly, "Penny, do you think you could do just a little magic for him? You're out of Hogwarts now, and we are family." 

Penelope sucked in her breath, "Yes, but it would have to be something small."

The two girls sat happily on the floor and placed Daniel between them. Penelope took out her wand. "Daniel would you like a toy? See your teddy bear? Let's get him to come to you. Accio bear." The bear sailed through the air toward them and Penelope caught it firmly in her hands.

Iris clapped, "Wasn't that fun, Daniel?" 

The small boy crawled toward Penny and reached for her wand. "You want to see Penny's wand?" Penelope said. "Don't worry, he can't hurt it." Penny offered her wand to Daniel. He grabbed it, happily, and it emitted a small beam of yellow light.

"Penny…" Iris gasped.

"Maybe it had some left over power in it," Penelope suggested. She took the wand back for a second while Daniel protested.

"Daniel take the wand again," Penny said.

This time the wand zoomed from Penny to Daniel's outstretched hands. Once again, a yellow beam of light shown from its tip, like a tiny flashlight. The child pounded the wand on the floor and bright golden sparks burst from the tip and circled around his head. 

"Oh Iris!" Penny covered her mouth with both hands to control the joyous laughter that was about to explode.

"Penny what does this mean?" Iris looked confused.

"What does it mean?" Penelope pulled Daniel to her and lifted him high in the air. "Iris! Don't you see? It means Daniel's a wizard!"

***

Percy apparated into a patch of trees on a hill behind the Burrow. Below he could see the smoke coming from the crooked chimney and his mother's garden was laid out like a large neatly sewn quilt. He stopped and counted the windows up to his room. He had said goodbye to it that night and he knew there was a chance he'd never see it again. It had been a lovely home.

He turned his back and walked deeper into the woods. He had been only five the first time he had walked this path. He remembered the pain in his side from climbing the hill and stumbling to keep up with Charlie and Bill. When they had reached this spot it was Charlie who had shown him how to place his hand on the boulder in front of him.

"It's very simple, Percy. All you have to say is 'I'm a Weasley.'"

"'I'm a Weasley' he had repeated and he had watched as the stone beneath his hand glowed red and the rock slowly moved away.

"It was a goblin house, once," Bill explained, but they left hundreds of years ago. Now it's ours, yours too now that you're old enough. But it is a secret Percy…"

Percy placed his hand once again on the large stone boulder. "I'm a Weasley," he muttered and the familiar glow shown beneath his hand before there was a scraping of rock against rock. He ducked his head to step inside. It was smaller than he had remembered. Magic lanterns blazed from the walls and cast a warm glow across the small cave-like room. Percy crouched down and ran a finger across the wall. Ginny. Her child-like drawings of their family waved happily at him. He found a simple figure with circles for glasses, who smiled broadly at him then opened a flat rectangular book. He looked farther down the wall for Fred and George's paintings, which were considerably more violent. Dragons fought and spit fire at one another and boys on broomsticks flew in loopy circles.

He knew it had been for his sake that the meeting was occurring here. A chance to allow him to be close to home even if he couldn't set foot there. The light from the lanterns blinked and the scraping sound signaled the stone rolling away. His mother ducked her head and entered smiling warmly at him.

"Hello darling," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down into an uncomfortable hug.

"Hello Mum," he said patting her back then pulling away stiffly as he noticed Professor Dumbledore admiring the drawings on the walls with the posture of someone in a grand gallery.

"Charming and quite practical too," Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Yes," Molly nodded. "It was a good 'safe place'. We used it once, when Percy was a tiny baby. Arthur had a portkey set so we could get out of the house in a hurry and hide. We made the charm simple, so that Bill and Charlie could do it by themselves if they had to. But we all made it that night. I'm sure it saved our lives. Afterwards, the children used it as a kind of clubhouse. They would play up here for hours."

Dumbledore waved his arms and a small table appeared with a pitcher of milk and a plate of chocolate biscuits. The pitcher floated up in the air and poured milk into three glasses. 

"Let's have a seat, shall we?" Dumbledore indicated three stools around the table. 

As Percy sat, he felt his knees come up slightly too high. Only Dumbledore would combine a spy meeting with a tea party.

"I'm afraid I have bad news," Dumbledore sighed as he reached for a biscuit. "We have had a magical break-in at the school."

"The children!" Molly gasped.

"The children are fine, Molly. Madam Pince, however, is recovering in the hospital wing. We found her unconscious in the restricted section. She was overcome by a powerful dark magic."

"Is something missing from the library, sir?" Percy asked.

"I am afraid someone has stolen the Hogwarts Quill, as well as the book that it uses to record the names of magical births. The quill could be a powerful tool for the Death Eaters and I believe the dreams that you both have mentioned to me could be associated with their plans."

"Percy has been having dreams?" Molly turned in surprise.

"Um no, Mum. It's Penny that's been having dreams. They've been frightening to her, so I mentioned them to Professor Dumbledore." Molly's jaw dropped. She seemed on the verge of something until she glanced up at Dumbledore who was watching her with his eyebrows raised and his fingers drumming across his lips. "Tell us about Penny's dream, dear," she said.

"It's a simple dream, really. She's had it several times. She's in her family's flying machine with a small child and suddenly the child disappears. She feels sure that something evil has taken the child."

Professor Dumbledore rose, picked up a battered magical crayon and began to doodle a smiling sun on the wall next to Ginny's pictures. "What about your dream, Molly?"

Molly Weasley hesitated, "I dream about my children. I see their names written in a book, like the Weasley Ancestral Registry. There they all are, written down under my name and Arthur's name and then one by one they disappear. They just vanish from the page and I know they're gone."

They sat in silence until Percy asked, "Are the dreams connected to the quill, Professor?"

"Oh they most definitely are."

"How, sir?"

"Did you have a biscuit, Percy? Best to think on a full stomach."

Percy paused and reluctantly bit into a biscuit.

"Percy, when Professor McGonnigal gave you a particularly large project to accomplish. What is the first thing you would do?"

"I'd go to the library."

"And once you were in the library, what would you do?"

"Well, I'd look for books to help me with the project. Do research."

"Exactly." Dumbledore nodded. "So what kind of research would require the use of the quill?"

Molly spoke in a low steady voice, "They're researching the children themselves. With a list of all the magical babies, they'll know quickly what babies are pureblood, halfblood, or muggle-born."

"Why would they want to know that?" Percy asked.

Dumbledore turned back to his doodle and erased the smile from sunshine. "I'm afraid we can only surmise the worst," he said softly.

"They wouldn't dare!" Percy hissed.

"Oh but I'm afraid they would."

***

Penelope spent the next several hours calming Iris and Phillip and was so caught up in discussions of Daniel's future that she was completely startled when Iris informed her that it was already 1:00. She practically skipped through the garden quickening her pace on the steps. All thoughts of her nightmares or her foreboding feelings had left her. It was not until she reached the door of the library that she remembered Phillips warning and she adjusted her shoulders to her most aristocratic stance.

Her grandmother stood smiling and talking to a handsome blonde man in his late 30's. Penelope felt herself blush as she took his hand. He was dressed in an expensive suit with a crisp silk tie.

"Norman, my granddaughter, Penelope," the old woman nodded.

"I am so pleased," Norman Brown smiled warmly, "I have heard much about you, of course. I knew your father. Wonderful man."

"Thank you," Penelope smiled, pulling her hand back.

"Do sit, dear," Grandmother indicated a chair and moved herself toward a comfortable seat. "I was just telling Mr. Brown that we are looking forward to the Board of Directors meeting on Monday. You will have an opportunity to meet some of the major shareholders. Norman has brought you some reading material."

Penelope took the thick soft bound report and began to flip through it.

"You know, of course, that your family began with ship building in Scotland over 200 years ago, but around the time of the first world war, your grandfather became interested in aviation. He wisely began to diversify the company and Clearwater escaped the downfall of many ship builders in Scotland. Around the time you were born, Miss Clearwater, the British government acquired the major air craft manufacturers. Your grandfather maintained some small outside interests, but today Clearwater is a more streamlined company with investments in a variety of operations. What you have there are annual reports from the last five years. From that you'll be able to get an idea of where the company stands."

Penelope had been reading and half listening to Brown, "Classified projects? This says two thirds of the company holdings is in classified projects."

"Your father was an influential man. He worked within many levels of the British government. As you can imagine a company with a history of both naval and aeronautical experimentation could very well be involved in research and development for projects that are sensitive in nature."

"Like what?"

Brown shifted and smiled tightly. "I can't say more, Miss Clearwater. I'm sure you can understand."

"Not really. Are you telling me two thirds of our company is operating on projects that I can't know about?"

"Essentially, yes."

"Well that's just ducky," Penelope said coldly. "I thought the whole point of this was so that I could understand the company I am about to inherit."

"In due time, Miss Clearwater. In due time." Norman Brown offered a slight bow and for the briefest second Penelope thought a tiny smirk crossed his lips.

Penelope's grandmother stood with the help of her cane. "Norman, I do hope you can find time to join us during the holidays. Penelope will be here again and she is bringing her young friend from London."

"It would be a pleasure," he said rising with Penelope.

"Thank you, Norman," she said as she walked proudly from the room.

When Penelope turned she found Norman Brown eyeing her closely. "Your friend is someone you met in the States, Miss Clearwater?"

Penelope felt her cheeks go red, "We met at school but he is from Britain."

"Interesting. Might I know his family?"

"I don't think so, Mr. Brown."

"Is he from London?"

"Not that it is any of your business, Mr. Brown, but if you must know his family owns a small farm near the village of Ottery St.Catchpole."

"Ah…rural people."

"And what does that mean?"

"Miss Clearwater, you will forgive my forwardness. You are now a quite eligible young lady. And the truth is, you will find people quite interested in your social life…or lack there of. You must proceed with caution."

Penelope felt her jaw clench, "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Brown. I assure you, if anything, I am an excellent judge of character."

He nodded with his eyebrows raised, and this time she was sure a smirk crossed his face as he turned to go.

"Do you find me funny, Mr. Brown?"

"Funny, Miss Clearwater? Not at all. Extraordinarily unusual, perhaps. But not funny." He flashed her a charming smile, "Ottery St. Catchpole…" he laughed as he left.


	7. Nests

A/N: Happy November! Thank you all for your reviews and comments. They make this fun and give me great incentive. I am always happy to hear of others who don't think Percy is a complete jerk. I want to say a special thank you to Shmi who continues to offer support and great feedback. I haven't said this in a few chapters, but you guys know this is all the genius of JKR…Next month - Christmas in time for Christmas!

Chapter 7 - Nests

Penelope bundled in sweats for her evening jog through the park and along the river. She took an unnoticed path into the woods and stopped at their designated meeting place, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. Where was he? It was not like Percy to be late. Above her she heard a flapping of wings and she looked up to see a mass of dark birds take to the air. With a thump, Percy fell out of the sky behind her.

"Where do I keep my Head Boy badge?"

"Merlin, you scared me. I have your Head Boy badge. What kind of shampoo is in my shower right now?"

"Mmm..some kind of tropical island stuff."

"Fair enough. Percy Weasley, were you in the tree?"

"Well…yes," he said with a small grin as he adjusted his crooked glasses. "Look up."

She looked again and this time saw a small platform sitting across a branch.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Call it what you want, a tree house, a perch, a lookout…a nest," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Penelope held him back with a skeptical look, "A nest? You're not suggesting I'm going to go up in that tree with you?"

Percy nodded.

"Will I ever figure you out?"

"That's a very good question."

"How do you get up there?"

"Well, you could climb, or you could fly, or you _could_ apparate."

She gave him a mock push but her concern was real.

"I've never apparated up a tree. What if I fall?"

Percy turned serious, "I would never, ever let you fall. If you don't like it we'll come right back down. But I think you will like it if you'll give it a chance. Do you want to apparate together?"

Penelope nodded and looked up.

"Look at me, Pen. Here we go."

They were so high. Around her bare branches and twigs formed a lacy curtain. A few last leaves fluttered past as a cold November wind stung her cheeks and hands. Percy sank with his back against the trunk, pulling her down in front of him and wrapping his arms securely around her. She leaned back into his warmth and starred out into the darkening sky.

"How long do we have?"

"Not long. I have work to do tonight."

"What kind of work?"

He pulled his wool cloak around her. "Are you cold?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"I know."

She sighed and rested her head against his cheek. The tree rocked slightly in the wind and the soft scratching of the branches was a constant music.

"Percy?"

"Mm hm."

She hesitated then whispered, "Are you ever afraid?"

He turned to place his lips against her temple. "Every day," he said softly.

"Do you ever wish we could just fly away?"

"Sometimes. But then I remember that if I did that, I would not be worthy of you. Pen, this is our world. It's not perfect, but we have to try to make it better."

"You are my world. I don't care where we are, as long as we're together."

The night seeped in around them turning the branches black against dark blue. Night was sweeter than the day and they sat in silence as the sounds crescendoed around them while the moon rose full and ripe. Here, nestled in a tree and shielded by the dark, she felt very safe.

Hermes and a grey owl soared in and landed with a single flap on a nearby branch. Percy squeezed her tight. "You have to go now."

"Already?"

"Yes."

Penelope groaned and he smiled back at her, "You need to go home. You have a big day tomorrow."

A fire lit behind her eyes. "You haven't forgotten? You're coming to help? You know they'll be here after lunch."

Percy chuckled, "Such a fuss over one little wizard baby."

"You promise you'll be there tomorrow at 1:00?" she asked, leaning into him one last time.

"I promise."

"And Percy," she paused and turned his eyes toward hers, "whatever you're doing tonight, do you promise to be careful?"

He answered her with a kiss. He tried to tell her. He hoped she knew. Her faith in him was everything.

****

Once he was sure she was safely gone, he turned to Hermes and the other owl. The grey owl extended its leg and Percy unhooked its Ministry of Magic letter pouch, removing the letter within. 

"Fudge to Malfoy. Perfect." 

He retied the pouch more loosely and then with a whir and a flap, it was done. Sirius and Remus had been quite right. It had come quickly and naturally since that night. He ducked his head to try and place the letter bag around his neck and felt Hermes' beak straighten it for him.

"Thanks mate."

"Your welcome, wizard."

Of all the strange things about transforming into a bird (having the world become suddenly huge, feeling more comfortable in the air than on the ground, not to mention looking down at your feet and seeing claws) the strangest was having a real conversation with your pet. He wasn't exactly sure how they spoke. They just did. He had a feeling that they were thinking at each other, though he couldn't be sure.

"And thanks to your friend there. He won't get into trouble will he?"

"No," Hermes answered. "He's going to fly around for the night. He has a cousin in Oxford he's wanting to visit. We'll meet him back here at sunrise."

"Awful sporting of you," Percy said to the Ministry Owl.

"Glad to do it," the grey owl answered. "Everyone's furious, you know. Afraid of getting their wings broken. Dangerous times." He nodded, spread his wings and rose out of the branches and away.

"Alright," Hermes said. "Two hour flight to Malfoy Manor. Are you ready?"

"Absolutely."

Hermes dove from the tree and Percy followed. It was a comfortable feeling, like swimming only much easier. Still, there was something lonely about heading into the unknown sky. The lights of London gave way to clusters of lights in the suburban neighborhoods and then to the hills and valleys of the south. If he had not been nervous about what lay ahead, he would have just enjoyed the wild beauty beneath him. The full moon shown with a giant ring and he thought he could smell a salty breeze against his feathers. 

"It's going to rain, wizard," Hermes called.

"How soon?"

"About 3 or 4 hours. It's rolling in from the sea. We'll have a wet flight home."

It was another hour before they reached the temple at Stonehenge. Percy had heard once that even muggles could see parts of it. The Malfoy Mansion stood nearby, isolated on the flat plain, with windows that glittered seductively. Hermes circled a turret then landed strategically at the top. Percy landed nearby and saw through the window in the opposite tower exactly what he had come for.

Malfoy sat facing him in a large ornately carved chair. Across from him a smaller slightly balding man paced. He continualy rubbed his left hand up and down his right, which shown silver in the candlelight.

"I'd say you've hit the jackpot, Wizard."

"I'd say you're right," Percy breathed.

Hermes spun his head around observing the sights and sounds of the night. "Stay here. Don't move," he instructed. He took off and flew to Malfoy's tower, circling the turret twice and then disappearing. Percy watched and restrained himself from flying right up to the window. He knew it was wise to trust Hermes but they could be talking about the Quill as he watched and he was missing it. Suddenly Hermes' voice (or was it a call?) came to him on the wind. He lifted into the air and soared quickly to the top of the opposite tower. The top of the turret was covered with loose and crumbling boards with a suspicious hole in one corner. 

"Down the hole," Hermes nodded. "It's an old nest lodged between the ceiling and the roof. You can hear everything from in there."

Percy contracted his head and body and squeezed into the space, inching forward toward the sound of their voices. He moved as quietly as he could but his claws scratched at the ceiling below.

"What was that?" he heard Pettigrew ask nervously.

"It's just birds in the ceiling," Malfoy answered.

It felt like a monstrous earthquake. He was thrown upward, banged his head, then landed with a jolt on the board below. The jolting continued all around him as Malfoy yelled 'shoo', but seemed to be traveling farther away. Malfoy was hitting the ceiling with his cane. 

"Let's face it, Pettigrew, recruitment is key. Our forces have dwindled. We'll release those in Azkaban but it isn't enough. Too many have died or are cowards or have put all their faith in that idiot, Dumbledore. Even if we manage to take the Ministry we need massive incentives to strengthen our ranks and there's one thing that lures like no other, Pettigrew." Percy heard something clatter across the desk. "Wealth."

"And how, Malfoy, do you propose to spread this wealth?" Pettigrew sneered. "I suppose you're prepared to give up yours?" 

"You always were annoying and not very smart. We're going to take it from the muggles, of course. What do they need it for? We'll be the generous ones, modern day Robin Hoods, steal from rich muggles and give to poor wizards." Malfoy's voice took on a sickly sweet tone, "Follow the Dark Lord and wealth untold will be yours. Think about yourself, think about your children and their future." He laughed and Percy felt his blood run cold. "It's really very simple, Peter."

"Except that you don't have any muggle money and you can't just go around magically draining muggle banks."

"No. This needn't be messy and a clever little spy, like you, Peter can find the resource. I'll bet you've already got ideas in that filthy little mind of yours."

Percy could here agitated pacing across the room. "I hate you, you know."

"Oh Peter, I am wounded. I thought we were the best of friends. You should be grateful, Peter. You need a purpose. As it stands, you're not much use."

"The master knows that I am his most loyal servant, Malfoy. Without my very flesh, he could not exist."

"Purpose served, Pettigrew."

"We'll see about that, Malfoy."

There was silence and then a chuckle from Malfoy. He was sure Peter Pettigrew was gone. Percy inched back quietly toward the loose board and the night sky above. Thunder rolled overhead and a flash lit the sky. Hermes was waiting for him on top of the roof. 

"Did you hear them, wizard?"

"Perfectly."

"OK, let's deliver the letter and get out of here."

"No," Percy said stubbornly. "I need more…I still don't know about the Quill."

"Maybe Malfoy doesn't know about the Quill."

"Right, and I'll be playing for England in the World Cup. No. He knows alright."

"Listen, one thing at a time. You promised your female…"

"I know, I know." 

Percy took off and flew around to the window, landing on the sill. Malfoy sat at his desk writing on parchment with something Percy could swear was a human finger. He tapped the window with his beak and Malfoy approached, swinging out the pane so that he could hop inside. 

Malfoy took the letter from the pouch around his neck and crossed back to his desk. He read it through once and began to laugh. "Could you find anyone more easily manipulated than Cornelius Fudge? Let's see, what shall I give him to stew over?" He tapped the desk with the severed finger, "Let's make it big. How about giants? Sources say Dumbledore seeking support from giants in effort to storm Ministry. That should send him spinning for a bit."

Malfoy folded the note. "Come here owl. Take this back to his Excellency," he said as he stuffed the pouch then ran his hand down Percy's head. 

Percy struck as hard and fast as he could, praying for blood as he dove for the window. He heard Malfoy curse behind him and he felt a breeze at his tail feathers. He beat the air once and he was over the sill, soaring up and away as the window slammed behind him. He met Hermes back on the opposite tower. 

"What just happened?" Hermes asked suspicously.

"I bit him," Percy said cooly as he tucked his wings back.

"You did not."

"I certainly did."

Hermes groaned, "That was stupid, Wizard, very, very stupid. If it gets back to the Ministry that they have a biting owl in their ranks, you could get us all in trouble. And more dangerous than that , what if he had trapped you? You'd be in a fine mess then and you could have blown the whole operation."

Percy felt indignant and embarrassed. "He pet me."

"Get used to it, you're an owl."

The rain was starting and the drops felt huge. The lightening flashed again, lighting up the grounds below. Malfoy's garden was filled with huge topiaries and oddly shaped bushes that seemed to writhe in the wind and rain. 

"Let's take one more spin around this place before we leave," Percy suggested.

Hermes gave him a disgruntled look as the water ran off his feathers. "You should be saving your energy," he huffed.

"Well I'm going without you then." He dove, fighting to stay level as the water and wind pushed on him. The place was odd. A brightly lit museum with no visitors. Every window he approached held a beautifully appointed empty room. He landed under a stone gargoyle that jutted out over a ledge, gave a huge shake then fell into stillness watching the world below. Lightening flashed again and Hermes emerged from the charcoal sky to light beside him.

"See anything?"

"No. It's like nobody lives here."

"Well, there is one thing we could try," Hermes said hesitantly.

"What's that?" Percy questioned.

"Follow me."

Hermes lifted back into the storm and this time flew low to the ground. He stopped at a flight of stone steps that led down into a black hole. With a nod he flew skillfully down the steps. Percy followed but landed with a bit of a thud. They were in front of a wooden door the size of a small child. Hermes pecked on the door with his beak and within a moment it was opened by a very small elf.

"Could you spare a bit?" Hermes asked. It's a wicked night, too rough for hunting and we've got quite a little jaunt back into London."

The elf looked behind her then whispered, "Stay here," and promptly shut the door.

"Did you just talk to that elf?" Percy asked.

"Oh yes. Didn't you know? Elves can talk to animals. It's part of their magic."

"No. I never knew that. Why…" Percy began.

"Because, you wizards find it easy to overlook the talents of others," Hermes sniffed. "She's not going to be able to understand you, though, because you, sir, are not an animal. Let me do the talking."

The tiny elf returned with a small loaf of bread. Percy realized quickly it was a child elf, no more than 10 he would have guessed.

She pulled the door closed behind her with a nervous glance and sank to the stoop, pulling her legs up under her tea towel.

"Much appreciated," Hermes said as he nibbled at the loaf. He looked over at Percy and ordered him to eat.

"What's your name?" Hermes asked.

"Nod."

"How old are you, Nod?"

"Nod is 11, owl."

"Are you here with your family?"

The little elf shook her head slowly. "Nod has been purchased by the new master. Nod is grateful to be brought to such a fine home to serve."

"I see," said Hermes dryly. "So, you like it here do you, Nod?"

The small elf's lip trembled, "Nod is a very fortunate elf. Nod will be a good elf and will make her family proud. Nod does her job and does not complain, no matter how much Nod's hand hurts."

Percy was just thinking that even elf children were bizarre when he looked at Nod's tiny hand. He knew immediately what he saw. Ink stains covered her bony fingers and now, as he noticed, it was ink that dotted her tea towel. Percy gave Hermes a jab with his wing.

"What does your master have you write, Nod?" Hermes didn't miss a beat.

"Oh no. It is a powerful secret." Nod shook her small head fiercely.

"We're owls, Nod," Hermes said gently.

The tiny elf shook her head again and rose to scramble back inside the door.

"Wait!" Hermes called just as she was shutting them out.

"I have a little deal for you. Tell us what you're writing and I'll take a message to your family."

The tiny elf hesitated. A huge eye peered at them through a crack in the door.

"You'd do that? You'd deliver an elf message?"

"Well," said Hermes proudly, "It's a part of a bargain."

Nod paused and stepped back outside the door. She picked up a leaf from the floor of the stone stairwell and held it to her forehead. It glowed for a moment before she held it out to Hermes.

"Nod is writing names. That is all. Name after name after name."

"Whose names?"

"Nod does not know. We are now bound by a bargain owl." And with a pop, she disappeared.

***

"Penny, I'm here," Percy called to announce his arrival as he apparated into the bedroom.

She was standing in the kitchen, checking off items on a list. Her hair was swept up into a loose knot making her neck look particularly enticing.

"Don't come any closer," she instructed. "What's my favorite ice cream?"

"Chocolate with almonds. And mine?"

"Strawberry, made with only the freshest strawberries, mind you."

"Good girl. Can I come closer now?"

"Please do."

He thought how wonderful it was to have arms again. 

She pulled back and surveyed him with a frown, "You, my dear, are exhausted. I can sense it all over you. How much sleep did you get last night?"

"A few hours. But I'm OK. I'm actually, really good."

"Hmph. Well we'll see about that. You don't have time to rest now. They'll be here any minute. I'll have to go down and fetch them."

"Go on then. I'll be here when you get back."

She was gone about ten minutes before she returned. Even though he had met Iris and Phillip once before at King's Cross, he felt slightly embarrassed. He wondered how much about their relationship Penelope had divulged. These muggles were coming into their world, their home. Well, sort of, _their_ home. This was what he held sacred and it felt uncomfortable to share it with strangers. He knew, however, that they wouldn't be strangers for long. These people were going to be his family. Phillip shook his hand and then looked around in awe at the simple rooms. Iris came forward and actually kissed his cheek as she greeted him. And Penelope held a rosy cheeked toddler, who was surveying his surroundings calmly. 

"Percy, this is Daniel," Penelope pushed the small boy into his arms and he awkwardly accepted the child. Daniel studied him quite seriously for a moment before reaching up to remove his glasses.

"No, Daniel!" Iris looked fearful but Percy laughed.

"Don't worry, there's nothing he can do to them that can't be easily mended."

Penelope beamed at him then linked arms with Iris. "Let me show you two, all around the flat."

They spent quite a while explaining about gas lanterns and magical cooking. Phillip just stood, transfixed, in front of the painting of the cows for a long time. At last, Iris indicated that they should probably go if they were to have any time in London.

"Don't worry," Penelope smiled at her, "we are going to be perfectly fine. But before you go, we have a present for you."

"A present?" Iris questioned.

Penelope took a small purple box off the mantle and handed it to Iris. "You'll see."

Iris slowly opened the box. "It's a watch,"

"But not an ordinary watch," Penelope bubbled. "It was Percy's idea. Explain it, Percy."

"It's similar to a clock my family has. You see the hand will move around so you can see what Daniel is doing. He's sleeping or crying or playing or eating or if the hand is over here, he's in danger. It's a way you can keep tabs on him. If you feel he's crying too much, you'll know to come back early."

"It's wonderful," Iris said as she fastened it to her wrist.

"Simply amazing," Phillip gaped over her shoulder.

After a quick discussion about what time they'd return, Percy escorted Iris and Phillip out to the street. Penelope worked hard to distract Daniel with toys and he seemed happy to wander around the room and explore. He quickly found the potions cabinet, which she immediately locked and she lured him back to the center of the room with a tower of blocks.

Percy apparated back with a 'pop'. Daniel turned to observe him and then returned to his blocks in deep concentration.

"All is well here?" he asked.

"Perfect," Penelope sighed.

"Except," Percy raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips as he studied Daniel, "you might want to check that nappy."

"What? Already?" Penelope pulled the baby close. "OK, don't panic. We can handle this."

"Who's panicking?" Percy laughed.

"Well certainly not me," Penelope said as she lifted Daniel and made her way to the bedroom. "Come along Daniel. We have all your nappies and clothes on Penelope's bed. We'll get you all cleaned up here. That's right. Now just be still. Don't move Daniel. Daniel stop! Oh dear God. Percy, help!"

Percy stopped at the door and winced. "Hang on there. I'll show you a trick." He pulled out his wand. "Purganus."

Within a twinkling, not only was Daniel clean but the offending diaper had disappeared with a blue powdered poof. Penelope quickly placed a clean nappy around Daniel pulled him up into her arms and began to gently pat his back.

"How in the world did you know how to do that?" she laughed.

"You want to know a secret?" Percy chuckled. "It was the first spell I ever learned. There was a short time there that my mother had four in nappies. Fred and George were only three when Ginny was born and they were still prone to accidents. So I heard that spell a lot. I sort of tried it out one day on Fred. I don't think he's ever forgiven me."

"You didn't!" Penelope gasped.

"I'm afraid I did. For years after that, if ever I needed to control the twins all I had to do was whisper 'Purganus' and I sent them running."

They giggled together at the thought and Percy felt a gentle understanding pass between them. He put his fingers to his lips and pointed to a sleeping Daniel.

Penelope sighed and kissed the soft curls. "Oh Percy, I don't want to put him down."

"You shouldn't," he said softly. He conjured a cushioned rocking chair next to the bed and nodded as she slowly sank into it. Watching them together, he had the strangest feeling, a longing he couldn't explain. 

"If you need me, I'll be right here," he whispered. He made sure to leave the door a tiny bit ajar.


	8. Christmas

****

Chapter Eight - Christmas

It had been a long night. Penelope changed out of her student healer robes in the ladies lounge then made her way through the empty halls of St. Mungos to the sign out desk. It was surprisingly quiet tonight. The front waiting room held only two people, a plump witch with unnaturally black hair and a young man reading the latest issue of _Bow and Blade._

"Finished for the night, dear?" Nurse Halliburton handed her the sign out parchment and a quill.

"Yes. Are they OK?" Penelope signaled the two in the waiting room.

"Oh yes, that's Dirah Pochony. Her poor son brings her in once a week with some ridiculous ailment. Poor thing must have nothing to do but take up time here. You go home and get some rest, love." She gave Penelope's hand a motherly pat as she turned back to her filing. 

SWOOSH. The fire in the grate behind Nurse Halliburton rose up almost six feet and began to change colors - green, blue, purple, red. A cool female voice echoed through the hall, _'Incoming apparition. Level Four Trauma. Incoming apparition. Trauma Level Four.' _

"Oh my, that's not good." Nurse Halliburton clicked her tongue. "The worst always happens on a quiet night."

Penelope put down the sign out parchment. Mediwizards were rushing down the hall and she heard frantic yells. "Get a stretcher. We've got him. We've got him. Take him to room one. We need blood replenishing potion. Go. Go." She saw her teacher, Healer Smethwyck, walking quickly down the north hall then turn the corner toward trauma room one. And from the crossing west hall four mediwizards were whisking a levitating stretcher. Further away, Penelope could hear a nurse talking. "What is your relationship to the patient?"

"I'm his son."

Penelope felt her stomach drop and her skin curled like a burning leaf. She began to walk toward the voice as if pulled by an invisible string. Her heart was pounding and she gained speed until she was almost running when she turned the corner. "Dear God, Percy."

He was stunned. Blood covered his clothes and hands and was splattered across his glasses. A tall black wizard who was also covered in blood walked beside him. Their eyes met for a hollow moment. "It's Dad," Percy said simply before he disappeared into the trauma room.

Penelope moved quietly behind Percy and caught her breath. His dad was covered in blood. Wands were sticking out of Mr. Weasley's body in odd places. He was now in a white hospital robe pulled back so Penelope could plainly see six giant holes which were gushing blood from his side and across his ribs. Healer Smethwyck was trying several different spells to close the wounds. None of which were working.

She turned her attention to Percy. He was white and his hands were shaking. She had the distinct impression he'd thrown up but somehow he seemed even taller than normal, as if a steel rod was down his back. He quickly answered the questions of the head nurse as she recorded them on a scroll.

"How old is he?"

"He's 46."

"Does he have any health conditions or potion allergies?"

"No."

"You think he was bitten by a snake?"

"Yes."

"Did you see the snake?"

"No."

"How long had he been there before you found him."

"I don't know, ten or fifteen minutes, maybe. What's happening?" 

"There's a poison in him," one of the mediwizards responded. "We can't stop the bleeding. Nothing's happening fast enough. We need a life force infusion or we're going to lose him."

"I'll do it." Percy said.

For the first time, she reached out to him. Placing her hand as gently as possible at the back of his shoulder. "Percy…" she began but he pulled away as if electrocuted then turned to her, desperate, "It's my dad, Pen. Please, please help me." 

Healer Smethwyck knitted his very bushy eyebrows and studied her intently. "Do you know this young man, Miss Clearwater?"

"Yes sir, I do."

"What's your name, sir?"

"Percy."

"How old are you?"

"I'm 20."

"Perfect. Don't just stand there Miss Clearwater. Help him up on a stretcher." Healer Smethwyck seemed to have a new fire lit inside him. Penelope zoomed a second stretcher into the room and it hovered next to Mr. Weasley. Percy was on it in a flash. She signaled him to unbutton his shirt and lie down. One whole side of his crisp white shirt was now solid red. His lovely blue robe had been discarded ages ago in an effort to stop the bleeding from Mr. Weasley. For the first time, it struck her how much they looked alike. Mr. Weasley was clearly Percy in 25 years. She guessed people never mentioned it because their personalities were so different, but the realization frightened her and a hundred 'what ifs' crossed her mind. She wondered briefly where Percy's mother was. 

Percy kept turning his head to look at his father. She was afraid the blood still pouring from the wounds and the sight of the nurse filling vials with blood test samples would make him agitated. "Look at me Percy. I'll tell you everything that is happening."

"Is my dad, OK?"

"He is going to be in just one minute." 

"There was so much blood, Pen. It was everywhere. I was sure he was dead." Percy's voice cracked.

"I know. I know," she said soothingly. "But you got him here and now we can help him." 

"Explain the transfer of life force to your friend, Miss Clearwater." Healer Smethwyck instructed.

Penny spoke as calmly as possible. "Your life force is the fuel, the energy of your life. We measure it in days, months, and years, but it is not equal to the years of your life. Imagine your life force like water held in a cup. At 20 you have life force to spare, more water in the cup than you need. But as you grow older your life force will lower. Your father's cup has leaked and his force is lower than what is acceptable. What we are doing is moving some of your excess force into your father." 

One of the mediwizards brought out a box that contained two gold wands and a large oddly marked vial open on both ends. Penelope spoke directly to Percy. "Healer Smethwyck will join the two wands and the life force will go out of you and into your dad. The vial will measure what we take out."

"Miss Clearwater, do you want to extract feeling?" Healer Smethwyck said coolly. Penelope took a deep breath and nodded to her teacher. She knew she was good at this. Healer Smethwyck had held her up as an example when they made rounds. Still, she never imagined extracting feeling from Percy. She cleared her mind and closed her eyes then began to rub her hand in small circles across his breastbone. Channeling her magic down into his body, she felt her hand slip into his flesh and she plunged as deeply as she could wrapping the threads of feeling carefully around her fingers. When she pulled out of his body, she released a dusty cloud of feeling, which a nearby nurse captured neatly in a jar. As quickly as she pulled the feeling out, Healer Smethwyck pushed the wand deep into Percy's chest. 

"Well done. We're in good and deep. That should pull some powerful force."

"Let's go then!" Mr. Weasley's mediwizard was becoming impatient.

The room stood still as Healer Smethwyck touched the wand in the center of Percy's chest. "Vita Vademo."

A gold light seemed to encase Percy's body and then rose out of the wand in his chest. A mediwitch capped the light with the strange glass vial.

"Vita Recepto," Healer Smethwyck said and the light moved from the vial and connected in an arch to the brother wand now emerging from Mr. Weasley.

Penelope gripped Percy's hand and smiled tightly. "Does anything hurt?"

"No."  


"Good. You will start to feel tired. It's OK to close your eyes if you would like."

He shook his head and looked slightly offended. But moments later she could see exhaustion building in his eyes.

"_24 hours_," the mediwitch reading the vial stated. 

"_48 hours_." Penelope smiled in a way she hoped relayed confidence. Somehow, he looked about twelve years old, laying there with his eyes wide and his jaw set.

"_One week._" 

"_One month_." 

__

"Two months." He blinked twice as if to refocus his gaze. She would not cry.

__

"Six months." 

__

"Nine months." She felt a cold stab of panic and began to pray. Please, Mr. Weasley, please respond.

"His pulse is speeding up. Heart rate increasing," Mr. Weasley's mediwizard stated.

__

"12 months."

"Temperature normal, breathing regular."

Mr. Weasley groaned.

"Finite." Healer Smethwyck exclaimed. 

Penelope let out her breath, leaned down next to Percy's ear and stroked his hair, "He's going to be OK, Sweetheart."

Percy turned his head to look at his father. Mr. Weasley's eyes opened and he looked around confused until he found his son.

"Percy."

"Hi Dad."

"Evil…snake…at the door…don't tell Fudge."

Percy shook his head as tears emerged from under his glasses, "I won't tell him Dad."

Penelope sat by Percy's bed in recovery. He slept peacefully as she studied him. He did have freckles like his siblings. They were scattered like very pale stars across his forehead and nose. The most prominent freckles were across the top of his shoulders, remnants, she was sure, of a few childhood sunburns. A course red stubble had broken out under his nose and she laughed to herself knowing that the first thing he would want to do when he woke was to shave. He was so imperfect. And she loved each imperfection with fierceness.

Bill was standing at the door with the tall black wizard and she signaled quiet and met them in the hall.

"How is he?" Bill asked.

"He's sleeping. He'll be tired for a while, but he's fine. How's your dad?"

"He's stable. Mum's with him. Penelope, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt. He works at the Ministry."

"It's nice to meet you," Penelope offered her hand. "Thank you so much for helping Percy's father."

"I'm glad I was there," he replied seriously.

Penelope turned back to glance into the room. "He needs the rest. I thought I'd let him sleep as long as he wants then I'll take him to see his dad."

Bill and Kingsley Shacklebolt exchanged dark looks. "Penelope, Percy needs to leave St. Mungo's.

"What?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. He needs to leave now." Bill strode over to his brother and gave him a gentle shake. "Wake up, Perce." Percy's eyes snapped open and he was immediately out of bed and pulling on the clothes Penelope had magically cleaned and layed neatly across a chair.

Penelope's lip started to quiver. "What is going on? Percy? Bill?" Percy wouldn't look at her. He just fumbled with his boots and Penelope felt her anger and frustration surge forth in tears. "Why won't you tell me? Why was there a giant snake in the Ministry of Magic tonight? Percy, your father almost died!" She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw things and break them. Instead she stood frozen, her face red and her eyes streaming. "You know I know and yet you still shut me out. I deserve to know the whole truth."

Percy crossed to her and pulled her tightly to his chest. "I want you to be safe, Penny. If anything were to happen to you, I - well -"

"That's not fair!" she said angrily as she pushed herself away. "What if something happened to you? Don't you think knowledge will protect me? I can't stand it anymore, Percy. I want to help. Please let me help." 

Percy looked up from her to his brother, heaved a deep sigh and slowly nodded. Then he leaned down, took her face in his hands and kissed her full on the lips. "I'll see you soon," he whispered and he disappeared.

When Penelope spun around she found Bill was gone as well. Only Kingsley Shacklebolt sat casually in the corner, his long legs crossed. He was filling a curvy pipe with a violet tobacco. Penelope struggled to regain her composure. She found a handkerchief at the bedside and wiped her eyes. "I'm afraid you can't smoke in here, Mr. Shacklebolt. This is a hospital," she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

"This is a privacy pipe." Kingsley ignored her and lit the pipe with his wand. "I picked it up in Morocco years ago. Handy little item, especially when answering questions about a giant snake in the Ministry of Magic. But then it would help if you closed the door." He looked at her, his eyes raised significantly and she obliged as a deep purple smoke curled from the pipe. As she sat facing him a purple haze encircled them. He puffed silently for a minute and when he seemed satisfied he lowered the pipe and tapped the excess tobacco back into his pouch. "Penelope, the Weasleys and I and many others are members of secret order established by Albus Dumbledore. Our purpose is to fight Lord Voldemort in his quest for control of the magical world. I am here to tell you the 'whole truth' and to ask if you would join us."

It would be many hours before she would see Percy again. But he would come. They would hold each other and cry and try to kiss away the tears. Then, hiding under soft blankets, they would join their bodies and their souls, repeating the same three words over and over and over.

***

__

Percy always got purple, a pretty smoky purple that brought out his eyes. This year, of course, things would have to be different. 

She had gone to great lengths on the sweater. Bill had taken her shopping in a muggle department store and they had wandered until they found a section that looked like Percy. A very pleasant muggle in a coat and tie had shown her the sweaters. She picked one that was navy and made of something called raimie and acrylic and cotton. It felt smooth to the touch, not rough like her knitted ones. There was no letter on the front but an argyle pattern. The muggle said it was the latest trend. She was glad Bill was with her - handy to have a son who worked for the bank. He subtly whispered the translated price and she caught her breath. It was more than she had ever spent on one child. But she would do it. She nodded to Bill and he carefully paid the clerk with a crisp muggle note. 

And then the accident happened. She didn't sleep. How could she? She busied herself with Christmas for the children. They had much to celebrate. They were alive and together. Well not completely together, but they were alive. On Christmas Eve, she carefully wrapped Percy's sweater and sent Errol with special instructions.

Christmas morning she forced herself out of bed and wound her way through the miserable house to the basement. The children were just beginning to stir. She could hear Fred and George carrying on over their presents as she passed their door. When they were little, they always were the first down the stairs. Arthur would have to hold them back like horses at the gate until all the children were gathered. Percy, on the other hand, had always waited patiently on the steps and then had opened his presents slowly, examining every detail. One Christmas she had made Percy a little Ministry robe, just like Arthur's. He had been so cute, prancing around in that thing, and then he wouldn't wear anything else for almost a month. How she and Arthur had giggled about that.

She was standing at the stove when Errol arrived. It was the same box and the same paper she had sent the night before, but something was different. She ripped open the sweater box with the name of the muggle store and caught her breath. There under the tissue was a smoky purple sweater with the letter P. She ran her hand over the rough wool and couldn't help the tears, even as she heard the twins bounding down the stairs.

***

Percy fumbled with his tie as he looked in the mirror. He exasperatedly pulled it apart and started gain. Below he could hear musicians tuning and the buzz of the staff moving around the grand foyer of Clearwater Manor. He'd faced down lots of things this year. Why should this make him so nervous? There was a soft knock on the door and he called 'come in' expecting Penelope, but instead it was Iris who entered. She looked lovely in a crisp muggle suit with a holiday broach. "Are you ready? It's almost time."

"Yes. Except for this blasted tie."

"Here love, let me do that," Iris said calmly. She began to expertly wrap the black silk into a perfect bow. "You'll do fine. Be mysterious. They'll love you more if they don't understand you."

"Will you be there?" Percy said shyly.

"Yes," she smiled. "But you must remember Phillip and I are staff. Tonight we are working - making sure every detail of this party goes off without a hitch. And _you_ make things more complicated!"

"I'm sorry," He frowned as Iris helped him into his dinner jacket.

"Don't be silly. I'm teasing you. I've never seen Penelope happier. She seems different somehow. What could it be?"

"Perhaps it's Christmas."

"Perhaps." Iris turned him to face the mirror again. "There you go. Every inch a gentleman."

Percy lifted his chin and pulled on his lapel. "Where's Penelope?"

"She went down to the kitchen to check on things. You should go on down. The guests should be arriving soon."

Percy made his way down the stairs. Everyone seemed busy. Everyone seemed to know him. 

"Good evening, sir." "Happy Christmas, sir." Staff nodded and smiled as they passed. Percy nodded back. For a brief moment he considered that he could get used to this very quickly then he felt a gentle hand at his elbow and heard a familiar voice.

"Good evening, Mr. Weasley..sir." 

She was so radiant that for a moment he could not move. Her dark green gown bared white shoulders and he was sure that it was diamonds that sparkled at her neck. Her hair was caught in a loose knot at the nape causing little curls to cascade around her face.

"What no witty repartee?" She laughed. He shook his head and brought her hand to his lips. "A lady must have restraint and composure, Mr. Weasley. You are in danger of making me lose mine."

"I shall suffer the consequences, Miss Clearwater."

She linked arms with him, "Ah there's my Percy."

Penelope's grandmother appeared from the dining room. "Hang on, she'll want to look at us," Penelope whispered. Sure enough, Mrs. Clearwater signaled for them to approach then tipped her bifocals to inspect them clearly. "Charming, completely charming." She took Percy's arm and led him toward her study as Penelope followed behind. "We three shall now have a glass of sherry in private." She closed the double oak doors firmly behind them. "Have a seat, dear ones," she instructed as she poured amber liquid from a crystal decanter into three small stemmed glasses. "Percy you will find a variety of people present here tonight. Some are intelligent and kind, others are complete dunces. All of them have money and many hold titles. I can guarantee you, they will be quite interested in you. This fact need not worry you because their opinion matters not a whit. However, as difficult as it may be, for Penelope's sake, you must learn to move among them. I have no answer for that except to throw you in and tell you to swim. I have every confidence you will do perfectly fine." Percy looked over at Penelope who was smiling at him with laughing eyes. "My one bit of advice is to go easy on the hard stuff. You'll need your wits about you. Cheers, dear ones."

"Cheers," Penelope lifted her glass.

Percy swallowed hard. "Cheers," he said and he tried not to grimace as the sweet fire burned his throat.

There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Clearwater called 'enter'. A handsome blonde man came through the door and Percy could sense the change in Penelope immediately. Her body tensed and her mouth was set as if her teeth were clenched.

"Good evening, Norman." Unlike her granddaughter, Mrs. Clearwater seemed quite pleased. "Norman, this is Penelope's dear friend, Percy Weasley. He is my special guest this eveing. Percy, this is Norman Brown, our attorney. Norman's assistance has proven invaluable to me since I lost Penelope's father." 

Percy rose to his feet with the introduction and Norman Brown looked briefly as if he'd been slapped. Within a twinkle he extended his hand. "So nice to meet you. I've heard a great deal about you. It certainly is a pleasure."

"Likewise, I'm sure." Percy responded with a firm shake as Iris appeared at the door.

"Good evening. Mrs. Clearwater, your guests have arrived."

"Thank you, Iris. Norman will you escort me?" Norman Brown smiled warmly and helped Mrs. Clearwater to the door. Percy offered Penelope his hand.

"Have you got your wand?" she muttered under her breath as she stood.

"Are you kidding? It's in my pocket."

"Good, I've got mine too. Just in case."

He turned, raised his eyebrows and with a smirk glanced down her body.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she said coyly as they moved into the hall for cocktails.

Penelope began to chat gaily as if to distract him and at first he found that no one paid them much attention. He was actually starting to listen to her dissertation on the history of the manor house when a large woman and a man in a kilt appeared at his elbow. 

"Penelope, Happy Christmas dear. How are you?" The large woman leaned in to Penelope's cheek.

"Morris Campbell," the man extended a hand to Percy.

"Percy Weasley, it's nice to meet you."

"Friend of Penelope's I assume?"

"Yes, that's right. We went to school together."

"Ah yes…in the States, somewhere?"

"Uh yes," Percy said trying hard not to panic.

"Mr. Campbell is on the board of Clearwater Enterprises, Percy. He is also the president of the Bank of Scotland." Bless Penelope, an opening for another way to steer the conversation.

"Really, my brother is in banking. He's a treasure hunter." 

Mr. Campbell didn't miss a beat, "Acquisitions, huh? It's a dangerous business, I've been working one lately but I've decided it's cursed."

"Really?" Percy said brightly. That's Bill's specialty. He's dealt with some wicked ones. It's a bit like solving a puzzle isn't it? There's always some way in." 

Mr. Campbell leaned in enthusiastically, "Exactly! That's what I tell my boys constantly. There's always some way in. I like the way this boy thinks, Penelope. Do you have the same talent for mergers and acquisitions as your brother?"

For the first time Percy looked over at Penelope who was watching him from behind her wine glass, a rather odd expression on her face.

"Percy works for the government, Mr. Campbell.." Penelope leaned in to whisper, "Classified, top secret, you understand."

"Penelope!" Percy looked at her with mixture of concern and confusion.

"Really?" Mrs. Campbell quivered with excitement. "Are you with Scotland Yard, Mr. Weasley?"

"Oh no," Penelope said disdainfully. "Much more classified than that. You see Percy's father has been involved with secret government work for years, so it's only natural…"

"Oh my, how exciting to have a father involved in important government work!" Mrs. Campbell gripped her glass more tightly. "Can you tell us anything about what he does?"

"I…uh…well…" Percy felt hollow inside but Penelope just kept on.

"Percy's not used to talking about it, you understand. But I'll tell you this." Penelope leaned in with great drama. "His father has been involved with experiments on flying cars. Isn't that right, Percy?"

"Well, you could say that but…"

"Don't worry, darling. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell are very discreet."

"Oh, of course, Mr. Weasley. You needn't worry about a thing." Mrs. Campbell motioned as if she was locking her lips and throwing away the key.

As soon as the Campbells were out of earshot, he turned on her. "What just happened? Was it really necessary to involve my father in this little charade?"

"Calm down. Yes it was. It's perfect, don't you see?" Penelope said smugly. "In less than ten minutes everyone at this party will know and it's the perfect excuse not to talk about the two things they'll want to talk about. Your work and your family. By the way, that little deal about Bill was brilliant."

"Really? I thought I'd messed it up. I wasn't sure we were talking about the same thing."

"You were and you weren't. That was what made it so bloody fantastic."

Percy scowled. "Penelope, don't curse. This is never going to work. I need to just leave right now."

"No, it's working well. I think we're right on track."

Dinner proceeded rather smoothly. Percy sat on Mrs. Clearwater's right, Norman Brown on her left. Norman Brown monopolized the conversation with a lengthy discussion of St. Mungo's in Glasgow. Something that quite confused Percy at first until Penelope gently interjected that St. Mungo's was a museum of religious art. Mrs. Clearwater seemed thrilled to discuss art with Norman Brown. Morris Campbell leaned in and told Percy he wasn't exactly an art man himself. 

When dessert came, there were general ooh's and ahh's. Each guest's dessert was in the shape of a beautifully wrapped present with a bow of solid chocolate. Iris personally placed Penelope's, Percy's and Mrs. Clearwater's in front of them. "Thank you Iris," Penelope smiled. "All is well in the kitchen?"

"Smooth as silk," Iris responded.

Dessert was so delicious that it became the topic of conversation for a while and after dinner the guests moved into the ballroom where the orchestra was playing. There seemed less pressure as the evening wore on and as they moved around the floor, Percy found himself forgetting the problems that surrounded him and thinking only of the fact that he was waltzing with his Penelope. At last they stopped and Penelope left him briefly. Rather than face small talk with muggles, he wandered out onto the veranda. The bitter cold shocked his senses and was a welcome change from the whir of music and alcohol. He could take just so much of it, before he wanted to escape. He thought of his family and wondered what they would be doing. It was the oddest feeling to be away from them. It felt both wrong and right at the same time. He heard a door click behind him and he smiled as he glanced back sure to see Penelope - 

" Mrs. Clearwater, I'm sorry did you need me?"

The older woman moved regally toward him. It was fascinating to see bits of Penelope in her - the same nose, the same height, and they moved in the same way, just at different speeds.

"Oh no. I thought a breath of fresh air was a good idea." She surveyed the dimly lit grounds below. "Do you like my garden? It's really lovely in the summer. There will be roses everywhere."  


"Yes, I can see that it will be. My mum has roses. Nothing like this, of course. But in the summer we sometimes dine in the garden."

"We used to do that too, when Penelope was little. Not so much anymore…" She seemed to drift off and he felt terribly awkward.

"Lovely party tonight, Mrs. Clearwater. The food was excellent and I must say the musicians are even better than…"

"Mr. Weasley, do you love my granddaughter?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you love my granddaughter?"

His jaw dropped slightly, but he quickly recovered and stiffened with resolve. "Yes, Mrs. Clearwater. I do."

She eyed him sternly for a moment but then seem to soften. "Very well then. I am glad you could come, Mr. Weasley. I must say I do not understand your world, but then I do not always understand my own."

Percy nodded seriously. "We have that in common."

"Perhaps in the summer you can return and we will dine in the garden."

"I would like that."

"As would I." She turned and moved with a slow and stately grace back to the ballroom.

Penelope met her grandmother at the door before she slipped past her onto the veranda. She pulled a black cape from nowhere and wrapped it squarely around her shoulders. "What was that about?"

"I think that was the reason for this party."

"Oh, I see." 

They leaned over the banister and watched the lighted fountain glitter below.

"You're missing them, aren't you?" she asked.

"A bit," he said as he stared ahead. "But I am glad they are safe and I am glad we are together."

Penelope started toward him but something seemed to catch her eye and she pulled back. Percy turned quickly and saw a well-dressed woman with yellow hair moving away from the glass doors.

"Who was that?"

"Helen Harsaw," Penelope groaned. "She's the muggle version of Rita Skeeter. I'm sure she's spying on us. Trying to get something juicy for her column."

"What!" Percy swelled with indignation and a trace of fear. "Penelope, I didn't know there was a reporter at this party."

"Don't worry, darling. She's going to have a hard time writing anything about you."

"How do you know?"

"Because I spiced everyone's dessert tonight with a lovely forgetfulness potion containing a few of those beautiful red hairs. Tomorrow morning, no one here will remember your name."

"Penelope! You clever witch! But does your grandmother know?"

"Oh yes. She quite approved. Asked me if I could include a few of her hairs too, but I wouldn't do it. Don't worry, it's quite mild, but it should do the trick. Oh listen," Penelope laughed. "She's making them leave. They're singing Auld Lang Syne." They moved closer to the glass doors and Percy could see Mrs Clearwater standing with the orchestra and Phillip standing next to her. "She makes Phillip lead the song every year. He knows all the old words."

Percy reached behind her and brought back two toasting glasses filled with sparkling liquid. "Mr. Weasley, you did that without a wand!"

"So I did, Miss Clearwater. Shall we toast?"

She waited expectantly for his words but as the chorus swelled he found no words would come. "Penny, the truth is… I don't know what is ahead for us…."

She seemed to consider this, then answered calmly, "Whatever it is…from here on, we face it together." She raised her glass and smiled. "Tonight let's drink to family - yours and mine."

"To family, then," He said as they clinked their crystal and drank. He reached for her hand and as they intertwined their fingers and he felt a warmth spread to his toes like a pair of Weasley wool socks. 

"Did I ever tell you about the time my dad decided we should leave a Christmas feast for the gnomes?"

"No," she giggled. "I bet your mum loved that!"

"Oh she was in rare form! You see it all began…"

A soft snow began to fall over the garden below and together they strolled into the darkness, their love and laughter protecting them from the winter wind.

__

Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind.

Should old acquaintance be forgot and the days of auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my jo

For auld lang syne

We'll take a cup of kindness yet, for the days of auld lang syne…

A/N: Wishing you all a season full of love and happiness with people you hold dear.


	9. Vita Natura

A/N: I hope I have not lost my readers by having such a long space between chapters. I hope you will like this chapter. It was a hard one because it lays a lot of groundwork for the rest of the story and I really wanted to capture the mix of emotions. I wanted to let you all know that this story is now starting on The Sugar Quill and is being beta read by Zsenya, herself. I am making slight adjustments to it as I place it there, always trying to improve. You guys, get the raw stuff! I need to give a huge thanks to the wonderful St. Margaret's for all her help and support. Keep all the feedback coming!!! 

Chapter Nine – Vita Natura

It should have made things better. For the first time in months there were no secrets between them. But somehow the intensity of the joy, just deepened the cut of the pain. Penelope had cried that first Monday morning. Only five days, he assured her. It was nothing. They had spent far more time apart than that. But something had changed and he knew it too. 

Percy sifted through his in-tray crumpling the out of date memos. Why could he never be satisfied? He really was a lucky bloke, damn luckier than poor Cedric Diggory. And yet it wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted _her_ all - the - bloody - time and he wanted Cornelius Fudge to fly away on a Hippogriff and never come back. He took a moment's pleasure imagining _that_ press conference - 

_- Next question please…_

_- Mr. Weasley, Have you sent a search party after the Minister?_

_- We have, of course, put all our resources into the search. However we must also place our concern with the daily operations of the government. Let me assure you the Ministry of Magic is in capable hands…_

The delicious thought made him smile as he disintegrated the contents of his wastepaper basket with a smoky poof.

He flipped through Fudge's schedule for the day. First up was The Committee on Magical Education Standards and Services. (M.E.S.S.) That meant both Malfoy and Umbridge in the same room. He would have to watch himself. 

There was a soft ding from the lift and he looked up to see three distinguished wizards pass his door on their way toward the conference room. He knocked on Fudge's office and when he entered found the minister lounging behind his desk looking cheery. Lucius Malfoy sat across from him. 

"Minister, the M.E.S.S. members are beginning to arrive." 

"Thank you, Weasley. Have we seen Delores yet?" 

"Not yet, sir." 

"Well, it's still early. You go on in, we'll be there directly." 

"Yes sir."

Percy gathered quills from his desk and started down the hall. Fudge was in a jolly mood and that meant trouble. He slipped into the conference room and chose a chair slightly removed from the head. The Minister's Conference Room contained a single long table that magically expanded to always have the perfect number of chairs for any meeting. Portraits of past minister's dozed in their frames along the walls and Percy noticed Everard raise a single eyelid as he took his seat. He knew the portraits would all be wide-awake by the time Fudge had the meeting underway. 

Delores Umbridge swept in, a pile of papers in her arms. She took no notice of him whatsoever. Fudge and Malfoy entered shortly thereafter. Fudge gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder as he passed. Malfoy eyed him briefly, gripping his cane more tightly.

The meeting began and his ink spread across the parchment in neat clear lines. Umbridge gave a report from Hogwarts in which she complained heartily about the incompetence of the staff and the lack of discipline among the students. He logged her words carefully, trying to seal them in his own mind as he wrote. Behind him he heard Everard cough.

He had written three rolls of parchment before the group came to the final item on the agenda. Malfoy rose to his feet and cleared his throat to address the committee. "It has come to my attention that many of our muggleborn students enter Hogwarts woefully unprepared for life in the magical world. Recently, I acquired a piece of property perfectly designed to become a school. I would like to donate this property to the Ministry with the expressed desire of seeing it converted into an educational institution for young muggleborn witches and wizards."

Percy looked up at Malfoy with a moment's confusion. What was this about? Malfoy was looking stiff, like some porceline figurine. Questions began to shoot through his mind and he had to consciously bite them back.

"I would ask to remain anonymous in this gift."

_That's a laugh. You're telling everybody here._

" - and would wish to name the institution in honor of our esteemed Minister, a testament to his leadership in this area."

_Don't make me retch, you slick son of a bitch."_

"I would ask only to remain behind the scenes in the administration - perhaps helping to select key staff and trustees."

_You mean you want to control the whole thing._

"How generous Lucius," he heard a voice saying. "I was completely unaware that muggleborn students arrived at such a disadvantage at Hogwarts."  
_They don't, you idiot._

"But Lucius," came another voice from the floor, Why only muggle born students? Why not institutionalize early education for all young wizards?"

_There's a good question._

"Because the wizarding community has a history of passing along knowledge to their children. The tradition of family involvement in education must be fostered. It is, of course, in the heart of the wizarding home where knowledge is shared. This has been our tradition for centuries and it has, of course, worked remarkably well. Case in point, Mr. Weasley…"

_He's talking to me._

"Sir?"

"Were you not Head Boy at Hogwarts?"

"Yes sir."

"And your early education?"

"At home, of course, sir."

"Let Mr. Weasley stand as a testament to the supreme success our pureblood families have in passing on the wizarding principals of education."

_Go to hell Malfoy._

From a spot close to him, Amelia Bones spoke, "Has Dumbledore approved this school?" 

Fudge reddened but Malfoy replied politely, "We have not sought Dumbldore's approval. This school would be independent of Hogwarts."

"But certainly we must work in conjunction with Hogwarts. They keep the records on magical children."

Percy felt the hairs on his arm stand up as Malfoy smiled, "That is something to keep in mind. Access to those records would be important."

_You already have those records, you lying bastard. You stole them._

***

The Executive Bathroom at the Ministry was a thing of wonder. Percy slid off his white robe and sank into the pool the size of a quidditch field. At the far end a fire flickered from the huge stone fireplace and several important wizards lounged in a whirlpool by the flames. Overhead, a domed ceiling was graced with a fresco of the four seasons. The magic from each season hung so low that if he stood on tiptoe he could extend an arm into winter and pull out a snowball. He came here every day at lunch. Fifty laps back and forth, the gentle steady splashing accompanied by the pull of his shoulder muscles and the burning in his lungs. He was not a massively coordinated guy, but endurance he had. _Pain.__ Breath through the pain. Think through the pain. Live through the pain._

The bathroom was the best place to hear gossip and as the older wizards became accustomed to his lunchtime ritual, they hardly noticed him. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he sensed that his hearing had become keener since he had become an animagus. He could stop and catch his breath for a moment and hear them talk from the hot tub. The overly personal and the political all mingled when men were half-naked.

Today his mind traced over and over the events of this morning's meeting. It was a frightening ploy. Lure magical children from their families with promises of magical education. What would Malfoy do with a school full of muggleborn children? Percy held his breath and dipped under the water, gliding just beneath the surface. The image of the little female house elf floated in his mind. Damn Malfoy. She was just a child, really, even if she was an elf. There was no reason to abuse her. In his mind the image of the little house elf shifted to an image in his memory. The ink stained tea towel turned into a blood stained white blouse and Ginny lay before him, sleeping on a cot in the hospital wing as his mother stroked her hair. _"It was Lucious Malfoy, Percy," he heard his father say. "He was after me. After the Muggle Protection Act. We'd never have known, except that apparently the man has a rebellious house-elf who tipped Harry off. A little creature named Dobby."_

Percy's head broke the water and air rushed into his lungs. His mind was suddenly clear. He knew the path, knew exactly who he needed to get back the Quill. Dobby. The elf was at Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore had said so in the hearing. He dove under and kicked for the side. If he could just talk to the creature…

His hand hit the side, but before he could push off, he felt a sharp scratch. He looked up to see Hermes sitting on the edge of the pool, staring at him coolly. "What are you doing here?" Percy hissed. 

The owl jumped back, eyeing his dripping form disdainfully. With a shake of his feathers, Hermes twisted his head toward the door. Something was wrong. Hermes would not come into the Executive Bath without a good reason. Percy didn't dare look at the hot tub. With an air of irritation, he lifted himself from the pool, grabbed his robe and towel, and followed the owl into the showers. 

Hermes landed on top of a stall, cocked his head, then disappeared behind the door. Percy quickly slipped inside. Hermes was sitting on the bench inside the shower and next to him sat a haughty Great Grey owl with a bright red collar around her neck. 

"A muggle emergency owl?" Percy whispered. He had never received a message from one, but he knew they were specially trained for muggles who needed to contact the magical world. Why would a muggle need him? Hermes had clearly intercepted her, aware that her delivery would have caused questions. Percy carefully retrieved the note bound to her leg and she took off, perching first on top of the door before swooping silently out of an open window above a steaming shower.

"What do you think?" Percy whispered to his owl as he unfolded the paper. The note wasn't parchment but a crisp white piece of stationary and his eyes skimmed quickly down the page. He read the note a second and then third time before finally folding it carefully. "Hermes," he said softly, "I'm going to need your help."

***

The crowd at the Owl's Nest was beginning to thin. It was almost 2:00 and most people had returned to work, though a few Ministry wizards lingered in deep conversations. Zelda Clinkert motioned to Penelope from the door of the kitchen and Penelope stopped her task of polishing pint glasses. 

"Take a break with me," Zelda winked.

"Sure," Penelope smiled, following her friend through the kitchen and out into the frigid alley. 

"It's a little cold," Penelope frowned. "We need a fire."

Butterbeer crates were stacked near the rubbish bins and she pulled one toward them then levitated a cracked cauldron on top of it. With a simple flick of her wrist, she started a nice blue fire inside the cauldron.

"You're a really powerful witch, Penelope," Zelda said with admiration.

Penelope laughed, "Thanks, but that's not much of a trick. At Hogwarts we learned…" her voice died off. She was an insensitive snob.

"I'm going to go back and take my O.W.L.S.," Zelda said eagerly. "I've been studying a little. You know, when I can." Zelda lit a delicate white pipe, inhaled deeply, then blew out a smoke that smelled slightly of candied apples. "I mean, Oscar's a nice guy and I guess you make decent money working here, but I don't want to be a waitress for the rest of my life. I need to do this for Zoe."

"Zoe?" Penelope asked.

"My daughter," Zelda smiled softly and reached in the pocket of her robe. She pulled out her wallet to reveal a picture of a rosy-cheeked little girl about 2 or 3 years old, who laughed and threw chubby hands over her eyes.

"Zelda, she's adorable."

"Yeah, she is. She's really smart too. She's already showing magic signs, especially when it comes to food. She seems to eat non-stop."

Penelope laughed, "I think that's normal at her age. She's growing."

Zelda smiled, "Do you want to have kids one day?"

"Definitely, lots of them. My family died when I was little so I've always been kind of alone. 

Zelda looked embarrassed, "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's OK." Penelope paused then reached into her own pocket. "I have a picture too. It's my Godson, Daniel Phillip MacDouglas." Penelope handed over the picture. "And that's Iris and Phillip. They helped my grandmother raise me."

Zelda gave the small photo a shake. "They don't move. Are they muggles?"

"Yes. But Daniel's a wizard!"

"Really? Well, they look very nice."

"They are," Penelope said fondly. "I'd do anything for them."

A cold wind whipped down the alley making the water that puddled on the bricks shiver. There was a rustle behind them and paper flipped from the rubbish in graceful somersaults. A screech owl swooped low into the alley perching on the gas lantern by the kitchen door. Penelope looked toward the end of the alley knowing who she would see. The shadow and light blocked the features but she knew the movement as well as the face, every foot placed as if it owned the ground beneath it. Her heart sank, something was incredibly wrong.

"Zelda, this is my friend Percy." Penelope made the introduction without taking her eyes from him. 

Percy nodded at Zelda and his lips were tight as he smiled. "It's nice to meet you." When he looked back to Penelope and his features softened. "We need to talk."

Zelda looked between the two and then inched back toward the kitchen door. "You know what?" Zelda interjected. "I'll close you up. I've got to work a double shift today anyway."

Penelope opened her mouth to protest but Percy interrupted, "Thank you Zelda. That would be immensely appreciated."

"Don't mention it. I'll see you later then, Penelope." She gave one last curious look at the owl as she slid into the kitchen.

Penelope's body was numb. "You should not be here," she murmured. "Why…"

Percy zoomed two empty crates beside the little fire and indicated they should sit. He took her hand and starred at it for a moment before he began speaking in a low and gentle voice.

"Pen, Iris sent me an owl."

"Iris?? But…"

"I'm afraid there's some bad news. It's about your grandmother."

The afternoon sun did little to warm the brick and stone around her. She thought how different this was from before. It had been so dark with leaves and branches around her and a mountain of fire. Now a small blue flame flickered beside her. She was vaguely aware of a thumb making a soft circle across the top of her hand. And the rhythm of the voice, never mind the words.

"Penelope, look at me angel. Do you understand what I've just said?"

She lowered her head across his lap and let his hands stroke her back until at last her body expelled the ugly cry inside it.

***

Percy slipped into the church and found a place on a back pew. He'd never been in a muggle church, much less to a muggle funeral. Penelope had assured him if he could find the right page in the Psalm book, he'd be fine. He wondered where she was. She'd been in a bit of organizational overdrive. He arrived home last night to find she'd been in his closet, laid out all his clothes, and left a note to tell him to polish his shoes. 

Looking around, he recognized a few faces from the Christmas party, especially the men. The women were so different, all dressed in black with muggle hats perched on their heads. He reached for the Psalm Book and thumbed through. It was difficult not to overhear the conversations around him.

"So what happens now?" A woman with a large black bow on her hat was saying.

"Everything reverts to the girl."

"Oh dear God."

"It was coming anyway. We all knew it."

"What are you going to do?"

"We're working on it. Make it worth her while to relinquish the stock. Then let her go about her weird little life. Disappear to some tropical island for all I care."

Percy immediately felt a surge of anger but as he worked to control it, his mind wandered to the idea of Penelope in a muggle bathing suit on a warm and sunny beach…hmm…maybe the muggle had a point.

The church was small and very plain. Penelope had insisted that the service be at their country church and not in Glasgow. Percy spotted Iris and Phillip on the second pew as the congregation rose. He stood too as men in dark suits escorted the casket down the aisle. Penelope walked behind it looking terribly thin, her hair pulled up under a wide brim hat with a small veil. She stared straight ahead and offered no hint that she had seen him.

The congregation sat again and the vicar rose to the pulpit. He spoke of Penelope's family as if he'd known them for years and told some humorous tales which made everyone laugh. Percy tried but could not see her, only the back of that stupid hat which lowered and raised periodically. Norman Brown was sitting a few rows behind her, openly weeping. Pull yourself together man.

It was hard to think how close his family had come to this. His mind ran through every 'what if'. What if it had been Father? What if something happened to Ron or Bill or Ginny or – oh God – what if something separated Fred and George? How could he live without Penelope? Who would take care of her if something happened to him? 

Bagpipes began to play and the vicar was leading a procession back down the aisle. This time Penelope caught his eye and she paused and smiled. It wasn't a happy smile but an honest one. Why the bloody hell had he not brought a handkerchief?

The crowd moved down a small path to the cemetery. A low stone wall surrounded the graves and the Clearwater name was apparent on most of the headstones. There were a few chairs and several ladies sat while the men hung back. It was very brief. The vicar read from the Bible, everyone bowed their heads and then it was over. People were leaving, hugging Penelope, then making their way toward the Mercedes strewn parking lot. He lingered until, finally, even the vicar had gone. 

Penelope sat alone, starring at the casket. Percy took a chair at the end of a row and waited quietly until, at last, he felt a few drops of rain splash at the back of his neck. Looking up, wetness streaked across his glasses and he moved next to her, opening a large black umbrella that had suddenly appeared in his hand. "You're going to get that hat all wet and messy," he said. 

She paused for a moment as the rain pattered on the umbrella then reached up to unpin the hat. Slipping out into the storm, she laid it on the ground then crushed it squarely into the mud with the spike of her heel before returning to sit next to him. 

He wrapped his arm around her wet shoulders and together, they watched the hat sink into the muddy earth. 

***

Penelope woke to find it was dark outside. She had insisted she wasn't tired, perhaps she'd been wrong. The rain had stopped and she opened her window to breath in the cold fresh air. With a sudden determination, she turned and opened her closet, magically unlocking the compartment at the back. There behind the muggle clothes were her things. She pulled out a black dress robe, a long velvet cloak, and her old broom, a handsome Cleansweep 8X. 

She changed and loosened her hair. If she was going to do this, she might as well do it right. With a wave of her wand, she made the glass in her window disappear. Her broom hovered quietly and she sat side-saddle, crossing her ankles before sailing into the black. 

She stopped first in the gardens, plucking a twig from the dormant rose bushes and then she rose again, sailing out toward Loch Lomand. Below she could make out the dim outline of trees and the sparkle of an occasional boat. The wind pulled at her hair and dress and she reveled in the feeling of her own power. Her body was alive and young and full of magic. Remembering this seemed to awaken her and briefly lifted the heavy shroud in her heart. 

She turned back towards the church, sailing over pastures of quiet cows and doing a graceful loop around a weathervane. As she saw the tiny steeple she lowered her approach and her broom descended gracefully, just outside the cemetery. 

The earth smelled fresh. She laid down her broom then passed along the row of her family, stopping in front of the newest mound of dirt. She sank to her knees, placed the twig in the earth, and pointed her wand at the ground. "_Vita Natura," _she whispered and streams of blue and yellow light shot from its tip. Where the beams landed the cold wet ground seemed to grow warmer and green life began to emerge, a vine bending and twisting upward until it broke into large pale pink blooms. 

For the first time in days her eyes filled with tears and she choked back a hot sob, "I love you, Grandmother. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for letting me be who I am. I won't forget."

A gate clicked behind her and Penelope jerked toward the sound. Norman Brown stood at the edge of the cemetery, the moon making his blond hair look almost silver. 

"Are you in the habit of spying on people in their grief, Mr. Brown?" She rose awkwardly to her feet, pulling her cloak tightly around her.

He clutched at his chest and laughed nervously, "No, Miss Clearwater. I am so sorry, but you gave me such a fright. I didn't see you there or I would never have intruded. I came back because I left my sunglasses here this afternoon and thought I'd have a look for them."

"That couldn't wait until morning?"

"Well they are prescription, you see, and I have appointments all day…may I ask what _you_ are doing here in the dark?"

"Planting a rose bush," she answered primly.

"And that couldn't wait until morning?" he asked with the hint of a smile.

"I'll help you look for your glasses, Mr. Brown."

They both scoured the ground and she took the opportunity to quickly shrink her broom and tuck it in the pocket of her cloak. Brown lit an old cigarette lighter and was using it to scan the area. 

"Miss Clearwater, Penelope, do you mind if I call you Penelope?"

"No, that's fine."

"You do know that the Board of Trustees is preparing to make you a very generous offer for your shares of stock."

"I assumed that was coming, though no one has approached me yet. Are you the architect of such a deal Mr. Brown?"

He stopped and looked at her. His face glittered eerily in the light of the tiny flame. "You must not take their offer. They will make it tempting. But Penelope, your grandmother wanted _you _to run the company." He hesitated, "with my help, of course…"

Penelope snorted and shook her head, "You are really unbelievable, Mr. Brown. If you think you can influence me the way you did my grandmother, you are seriously mistaken."

He started toward her, "Please listen to me. Penelope, there's a lot you don't understand. Your grandmother was trying to teach you but she ran out of time."

"Oh _Norman_, there's a lot, _you_ don't understand."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead he flicked off the flame, "I don't think what we're looking for is here. Would you allow me to drive you home? It's too dark and cold to be walking alone."

They made their way up the hill and he opened the door for her as she sank uncomfortably low into the tiny sports car. As they sped along the curvy road he spoke calmly, "Listen, just don't do anything rash. Tell them you need some time, a few months to think about it. They may tell you the investors will walk, but that's a lie. Remember, you have the upper hand."

She was silent. What he said made sense. It would be foolish to make a huge decision right now. 

He pulled up in front of the Manor and came around to help her from the car. The lights came on as he opened the door and she looked up, "Mr. Brown, up here on your visor, are these your sunglasses?"

He seemed startled but then began to laugh and shook his head. "You've discovered my biggest secret, Miss Clearwater. I'm a bit forgetful. Oh, by the way, I like the dress. I'm sure that will make a big hit in the clubs." 

Penelope blushed and stiffened, "I'm not going clubbing after my grandmother's funeral, Mr. Brown."

"Oh really? My mistake, then," he nodded, then sped away down the long drive, his taillights blinking before they disappeared. 

Instead of heading up the massive steps, she followed the path through the gardens until she saw the happy windows of the cottage. She slipped quietly through the door into the warm glow and the sight before her was so immediately funny that she had to cover her mouth not to spoil it.

Percy was sitting in Phillip's large recliner and Phillip was leaning enthusiastically over his shoulder, "You have to push this button."

"Which button?"

"This one. No, no. You have to point it at the telly as you push it. Aim. There you go."

"Why it's like a wand really isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know."

"A muggle wand. Does it work on other things?" Percy swung the remote control around pointing it at a stack of books.

"No, just the television. But if you press the different buttons and you can make different things happen."

"Is it eclectic?"

"What? Oh no..um…it runs on batteries. See?"

"Fascinating! My father would…" Percy looked up and saw her for the first time. "Look Pen, it's a muggle wand and it runs on batteries!"

Penelope perched on the arm of the recliner and Phillip eyed her suspiciously. "Where have you been and what's with the Stevie Nicks impersonation?"

She shrugged, "These are my clothes and I like them."

Percy looked askance at Phillip before his eyes traveled admiringly up to Penelope's wind-tossed hair. "Well, I don't know who this Stevie fellow is but I feel sorry for him if he looks like this."

Penelope giggled and kissed the top of his head.

Iris appeared at the bedroom door, "Phillip, Daniel's asleep. Let's go to bed."

"But there's a repeat of an old _Black Adder_ show and I thought…"

"Phillip -"  
  


"OK. OK - Night kids. I'll -uh- leave the door cracked in case you need anything." 

Phillip switched off the lights leaving only a tiny circle from the nearby table lamp to illumine them. Penelope slipped down into Percy's lap and he wrapped his arms protectively around her.

"I don't think he trusts me out here with you," he whispered.

"He's pretty smart."

They kissed and she snuggled down into that perfect place against his neck. "Are you OK?" he asked tenderly.

"Yes…no…I'm not sure.

"You're not alone, Penny. You know that?"

She didn't say anything, but closed her eyes and breathed in deep. It was a lovely lie.


	10. The Quill

**Chapter 10 - The Quill**

"This way," Penelope directed from the door of her flat. "And grab that bottle of wine." Percy grinned and followed her down the back steps and into the garden.

"Miss Clearwater, you are up to something," he said, almost tripping over the bottom step in his hurry.

"What makes you think that?" she smiled back, ducking into a door underneath the staircase. Percy followed her into total blackness.

"Pen? What are you doing? Are you sure it's okay for us to be in here?"

"We must gage the level of risk with the corresponding benefits, Mr. Weasley." Penelope lit her wand and appeared beneath his nose. " Do you remember who told me that?"

Percy pursed his lips. "It wouldn't have been me, now, would it?"

"Right-o, Head Boy," she giggled.

The garage below Penelope's flat was slowly lit by a few small lanterns. Percy could see a collection of wizarding junk: a stack of old cauldrons; a spinning wheel; and in the center, a red Austin-Healy convertible.

"Penelope, you aren't thinking we're going to go driving in Healer Covey's car?" Percy said slowly. "Because that would be..."

"No don't be ridiculous," Penelope reached in and ran her hand along the creamy leather seats. "I just thought we could, well, I thought maybe we could just sit in it a while."

"Why?" Percy looked incredulous. "Why do you want to sit in a dark cold garage when we could be upstairs in your flat where there's a fire and a bed and a loo?"

"Come on, Percy. I'm so sick of that flat. We never go anywhere. For months we just sit together on Friday nights in that flat."

Percy stiffened, "I thought you liked being alone together in your flat."

"Of course I do," Penelope wrapped her arms around his waist. "It's just that...oh Percy don't you ever want to go and do things together? Just the two of us? Sometimes I wish we could go to a pub or go dancing or to a concert or a museum or just something."

He pulled himself free but kept hold of her hand. "I didn't know you were feeling this way. Penny, you know that it would be too dangerous to..."

"I know, I know, so that was why I thought maybe tonight we could do something just a tiny bit different. Maybe we could just pretend we were going somewhere even if we really weren't." Penelope opened the door of the convertible. "Care to drive, Mr. Weasley?"

Carefully placing the bottle of wine beside the console, Percy slid into the driver's seat. He ran his hands along the steering wheel and a grin spread across his face. "What do you think Fred and George would think if they could see me in a car like this?"

"They'd be crazy with jealousy," Penelope laughed as she ran around to the passenger's seat.

"Alright then Miss Clearwater, where would you like to go on our pretend excursion?"

Penelope settled herself and got a dreamy sort of look. "Well, perhaps we could pretend we've spent the day driving in the country and we got the car stuck in a mud hole on a little country lane. So you got out to push the car while I steered and…"

"Excuse me, Miss Clearwater," Percy interrupted as he uncorked the bottle of wine and filled a magical glass, "but don't you think I am a powerful enough wizard that I could magic a car out of a mud hole?"

Penelope swirled the wine in her glass and took a delicate sip. "Your ego is spoiling the fun, Mr. Weasley...now as I was saying, you pushed and pushed on the car and then after all that strenuous exertion and, of course, being slightly dirty from the mud..."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Slightly dirty?"

"Just slightly...we thought it best to rest in a nearby pasture. Fortunately," Penelope sniffed dramatically. "I had prepared an absolutely delicious picnic lunch…"

"This is pretending," Percy muttered into his wine.

"…and we found a lovely spot under a large oak tree where we could enjoy our picnic and watch the cows graze on a distant hill. Then with our bodies rejuvenated from my delicious lunch we made love in shade of the oak tree."

"What?" Percy snorted and looked over the top of his glasses.

"Well why not?"

"In the middle of the day? With a bunch of cows and cow paddies everywhere?"

"There are no cow paddies in my pretend cow pasture, Mr. Weasley."

"Oh, I see..." Percy poured more wine into her glass. "Please continue, Miss Clearwater. I'm finding this 'pretending' increasingly fascinating."

"Well, after that, we fell asleep in each other's arms and when we woke we found that night had fallen."

"That's a rather long nap, don't you think?"

Her eyes widened. "We were really _really_ tired…So, we hurried back to our convertible which you drove to the top of a hill and there we stopped to just look at the stars and talk."

Percy nodded, "And that's where we are right now?"

"Yes Mr. Weasley, that's exactly where we are."

Percy paused and looked around the garage. "Here, hold my glass." He jumped out of the car and headed for an small barrel in the corner.

"What are you doing?" Penelope asked as he reached inside the barrel and then hurried back.

"Hold on now, just watch." Percy rubbed his hands together quickly about five or six times and then tossed a pale powder up into the air.

Penelope gasped as a sparkling dust floated up. "Oh Percy, you made the stars!"

"Just 'pretend' stars. One of the many uses of Floo powder. We used to get into such trouble for wasting it like that when we were kids. But Healer Covey's got a year's supply over in the corner."

"Why would he have a barrel of Floo powder?" Penelope asked as they leaned their seats back to watch the tiny sparkles.

"Don't you know? That's what fuels magical cars. You don't think this thing runs on regular petrol do you?

Penelope laughed, "I never thought about that. I'm always learning something new from you, Mr. Weasley."

Percy smiled and then turned to watch her starring up at the ceiling of the garage. The light flickers were quickly disappearing above her. "So tell me the truth, Pen. How was your week?"

She sighed and the girlish glow drained away, "It was tough. I've made a pretty hard decision. I'm closing the Manor."

"What?" Percy scrambled up on his elbow. "Penny, why?"

"Without Grandmother there's really no point in keeping it open anymore. Maybe one day things will be different. But for now, I'm having the furniture covered and well...shutting it down. The hardest part is that I'm also letting all the staff go."

"What about Phillip and Iris?"

"Well, Phillip will stay on and take care of the grounds, take care of the cars and do maintenance on the house. He loves that sort of thing. Iris wants to do something different. She told me she wanted to go back to teaching and there is a little nursery school in the village that would be perfect for her. They'll continue to stay in the cottage so we can always go there to visit. But everyone else, the maids and cook. They'll all have to find somewhere else to go."

"It was a wise decision," Percy said firmly. "You and your family have been excellent employers. I'm sure you can give references. You can't worry about those people, Penny."

"_Those_ people? Sweetheart, you don't understand. Some of _those_ people have been working for my family for generations. I can't help but feel responsible for them. Can you imagine what it would feel like to work for something your whole life and then one day to just have everything shut down. As if your work didn't matter. As if you didn't matter."

"You can't think of it like that, Pen. Their work mattered very much to your family and to you." Percy thought about Dobby and Nod and Mr. Crouch. "There are people out there who aren't as generous and kind, as you are. People who use their employees cruelly."

They looked at each other and she reached over to twirl a finger through a curl above his temple. He closed his eyes and she spread her hand through his hair gently pulling at the soft strands. "Now, you pretend," she said.

He opened his eyes and considered her sagely. "Well the first thing I would pretend is that I could make this gear shaft vanish." Reaching up, he pressed a silver knob beside the steering wheel and the gear shaft and console between them disappeared, leaving one long seat.

"How did you know how to do that?" she snickered.

Percy downed the last of his wine, "Because it says 'vanish gear shaft' right there on the dashboard. Apparently, your Healer Covey must be a bit of a man about town."

Penelope giggled as he removed the glass from her hand and firmly guided her down to the soft dusty leather. "Healer Covey is about eighty-five years old."

"Then more power to the old chap." He tucked his arm under his head and began to move his hand warmly over her hips.

Penelope sighed and relaxed against him. "You should pretend something else, Percy. Studies show that it is healthy to talk about our fantasies. It leads to increased intimacy."

Percy surpressed a smile. "My dear Miss Clearwater, have you been reading _Witch Weekly_ Magazine?"

"Umm…mm hmm."

"Aah…I see." His nose brushed against her cheek and wandered toward her ear. "That's an intriguing concept," he whispered, "however I remain dubious that your theory is universally appropriate."

"And do you propose a counter theory, Mr. Weasley?"

"No," he replied, his breath teasing her with the taste of the wine. "I propose a demonstration."

She closed her eyes and gripped the leather seat.

Meeting with Dobby would be tricky. Grimmauld Place was out of the question. Kreacher would be a risk. Percy knew he couldn't appear at Hogwarts because of Umbridge and the Burrow was being watched. At last he decided on a simple plan. He would send a message to the elf and meet it in the Forbidden Forest.

He Apparated to Hogsmede, then transformed into his owl form behind The Three Broomsticks. There were still patches of white snow on the ground, even though a warm day had turned the road to mud. He was quite happy to be up in the air, sailing over the school grounds.

Hard to believe it had been less than two years since he had been a student here. It felt as far away and distant from his life as the toys and books of his childhood. Students, wrapped in cloaks and scarves chatted in small clusters around the courtyard. A boy and girl were kissing behind the greenhouses. Brooms zoomed around the Quidditch field and a few on-lookers scattered the stands. They were all so happy. Their darkest worry was completing tomorrow's homework assignment.

The forest looked as foreboding from the air as it did from the ground. He whipped through the trees until he came to a little clearing. This was the place. Lighting on the branch of an ancient fir, he waited patiently, surveying the ground below for any sign of movement. At last he saw it. He thought, at first, that it was merely dead leaves moving in the wind but then he saw two huge eyes peek out from behind a tree.

Sweeping down to the center of the clearing, he lighted before the elf and with the fullness of his magic, transformed. The bird body stretched in an orange glow until arms and hands exploded from wings and round glasses sat on a sharp straight nose.

"Hello elf. Thank you for coming."

"Dobby, sir. You are the friend of Professor Dumbledore, sir?"

"Yes, I am."

The elf inched from behind the tree and Percy's jaw dropped. The elf was wearing multiple small knitted caps and multiple pairs of socks, but most striking was the maroon knitted jumper, a smaller version of one he had seen a hundred times.

"Professor Dumbledore said I could meet you here. He said I might help you on an urgent matter."

Percy felt a knot tighten in his stomach. It was as he feared. Dumbledore would not order the elf to help him. This elf was free and now he would have to convince the creature of his purpose.

"Elf…ahem…Dobby…do you understand the return of He Who Must Not Be Named?"

The elf nodded. "The master of my former master."

"Yes. You see Dobby. Your former master has stolen a very powerful magical Quill from Hogwarts and I want to get it back. I am afraid that if we do not return it soon, innocent lives will be destroyed. I have reason to believe that Mr. Malfoy is hiding this Quill in his home and that his new house-elf knows the location. The elf is very young and frightened. Her name is Nod."

Dobby sat on the ground and pulled the maroon sweater up over his nose. Percy suddenly felt very awkward, lording over the small creature who sat huddled in his own mother's wool. Glancing around, he sat down too. Patience was one of his lessons. Not everything came with the speed he desired. Sometimes the only answer was to wait.

The elf rocked thoughtfully, then finally spoke. "Dobby is frightened of the bad wizard and frightened of his old master. But Dobby fears more for the little elf, for she is still bound to the bad master."

Percy nodded. "I understand. But if we cannot return this Quill, many more will be imprisoned by your former master. I am sure of it. I need your help Dobby but it is your choice."

Dobby's huge ears twitched. "I will help you owl wizard, sir. I will be at the old master's house tomorrow evening, sir. Dobby waits at the elf entrance."

Percy nodded and they both rose. "Dobby, may I ask who gave you that sweater?"

"A great and brave wizard," the elf replied. And with a crack, he was gone.

Penelope and Iris walked through the ballroom with their arms around each other. Together they had inspected almost every room, carefully closing all the drapes and checking that the sheets properly covered the furniture.

Iris squeezed her shoulder as they looked up at the dark chandeliers. "I'm proud of you Penny. Your grandmother would have been proud too."

"Do you think the staff will be alright?"

"Oh yes. They'll find other work. I think Cook was ready to retire anyway. You know her daughter just lives in Kinlochard. She can come and visit occasionally."

"That's good. I'll miss her desserts and her homemade marmalade."

"She's made a basket for you to take home," Iris smiled.

Penelope bit her lip and nodded. "Iris, there's one last thing I still have to do."

"I know. You still have to go through your grandmother's suite. Do you want me to help you?"

"Would you mind terribly if I did by myself. I promise I won't take too long."

"Of course not," Iris said as they made their way back into the grand foyer. "Don't worry about the details. You wouldn't believe the instructions your grandmother left in regards to her charities. Take what you would like and I'll have the rest boxed for storage."

Penelope hugged her friend. "Iris, what would I do without you?"

"You'd find another lucky person to be a part of your magical life," she laughed. "I'm going to run down to the village, before Phillip gets too tired of watching Daniel, but I should be back shortly. You take your time, love. And come by the cottage before you leave."

Penelope watched her go and then started up the stairs for her grandmother's private suite. Everything looked exactly as it always did. The walls were a sunny yellow and the carpet was thick and soft under her feet. There were the pictures that Penelope loved and she gently took them down and ran her fingers across them. Her grandmother and grandfather on their wedding day. They looked proud and serious. Her grandfather had tucked his arm around her grandmother as if she were more valuable than all his riches. There was a picture of her family. She could even remember the day it had been taken. She had been kicking a ball in the garden and she remembered bare feet on the grass and lemonade and being happy. She placed the pictures in a box that Iris had left and spent the next hour caught between odd bursts of joy and sadness. In the end she decided to keep three other items. A cane with the head of a swan carved into it's handle, a rose covered tea cup, and the leather-bound book with her grandmother's daily calendar notes. She opened the book and flipped through the pages looking at her grandmother's delicate loopy scrawl. There was a pocket at the back of the book and something was tucked inside. Her hand shaking, Penelope reached in and pulled out a letter. She knew immediately who it was from. The pages where yellowed and the date was unmistakable. It was from her father. The last letter before the crash.

__

Dear Mother,

We are looking forward to seeing you soon. You will be delighted with the children. Teddy is growing so fast. Pris can barely keep him in clothes that fit. Penny continues to exhibit unusual talents. She is unique but so delightful. I think of Father and wish he could see her. He would be quite proud.

It has been a busy month, as you are aware. I am hopeful that we are seeing a new attitude with the government. I think there is reason for optimism, though Father's concerns do occasionally haunt me.

I have hired a new solicitor who I think can greatly help us. I ran across him here in London. He's young, not long out of school, but his family connections are truly outstanding. He is convinced of certain protections we should place on the company, especially in regards to our wills. Remembering father's last words, I am inclined to agree.

I am setting up an office for him in Glasgow inside the company and having him shut down his other two offices.

Enclosed is his card. Please contact him mother. I think you'll find him charming.

Pris sends her best. We're all looking forward to August. It will be great to be home.

Love to you,

Edmund

Penelope shook the envelope and a small white business card fell out. On it was printed…

Norman Alberic Brown

Solicitor

Offices

London and Hogsmeade

"Hogsmeade?" she whispered. "Oh, I've been a fool."

The night was clear with only a sliver of moon. Percy flew for the sheer freedom of it, working the plan in his mind as he headed south. In his talons he clutched the most important part of the plan, a Portkey sack. He was quite proud of it. All he had to do was get the Quill and Book inside the sack and they would be safely back at Hogwarts. Simple, completely simple. Harry Potter could do it. Bill could do it. Hell, even Ron could do it.

He passed over Stonehenge and saw a few lights from Malfoy Manor across the plain. He wondered what it would have been like to grow up in such a huge and lonesome palace. There was no sign of Dobby and he lighted on a tall iron gate. From this perch he could hear and see the stone steps down into the elf entrance.

He sat alert. It must be almost half past eight. A clatter sounded from the stairwell and the tiny elf, Nod, climbed up and out of the dark, pulling behind it a heaping bag of what appeared to be rubbish. Percy wondered how a creature so small could maneuver something three times her size. Somehow she managed to place the rubbish in a low wire cage near the stair well and it immediately caught fire and began to burn. There was a crack and Dobby appeared next to her by the fire.

"Who is you?" Nod jumped back in shock.

"Dobby, free elf. I bring you greetings from your family in Dover." Dobby bowed low and a number of knitted caps tumbled from his head even as he extended a small seashell toward Nod.

Nod hesitated then reached for the seashell before retreating from Dobby as if he was mad. She quickly held the shell against her forehead where it glowed amber before fading. Her lip trembled as she looked at it, then she dropped it into a pocket on her apron where it disappeared completely. She starred up at Dobby. "Speak then."

"Does your Master keep a magic book and quill in the dungeon of the manor?"

Nods eyes bounced wildly from the door and around the dark garden. "Nod speaks not of any book. Nod spends her days cataloguing Master's wine." She hesitated, then looked up slowly through huge brown lashes. "Nod is small and writes slowly, so she stays behind, do you see?"

Dobby nodded slowly. "Dobby sees."

Nod twisted her ink stained tea towel then went over and placed her hand on the red hot wire around the flaming rubbish can. She let out a little scream then started down the steps.

"Nod wait…" Dobby called rushing to the steps. He took her tiny brown hand and placed his long finger against the burn. Percy could see a smile spread over her face.

"What kind of magic does Dobby know?"

"Free elves can learn new magic," he answered.

Nod wiggled her fingers and disappeared.

Percy flew behind a cone-shaped hedge and transformed. "She didn't tell us anything."

"Nod told Dobby," the elf nodded.

"What? Dobby, do you know where to find the Quill? Please tell me…"

The elf pulled thoughtfully on his nose. "The bad master has the largest collection of magical wines in Britain. It fills much of the dungeon, but not all. Behind the last wine rack is a door into a hidden room. That is where the bad master is making Nod work." Dobby pointed to the steps, "Sir can enter the wine cellar by jumping from the center of the kitchen. The bad master keeps the key on a ribbon just beside the door. Use your wand, owl wizard."Dobby's huge ear twitched. "Dobby must go now, sir." He was gone before Percy could say another word.

Percy stood still in the bushes of Malfoy's garden. He had to find the right moment to slip into the kitchen. He transformed and flew down to the stone steps feeling grateful for the black night and for the silence of his wings. His owl ears could sense the slightest sounds and he waited there, what must have been hours, until he was quite sure the kitchen was completely still. Transforming back, he carefully turned the knob of the child-sized door. It was unlocked. He got down on his hands and knees and crawled inside.

The Malfoy kitchen was empty. A few low torches cast dim light, and the fire in the giant stone fireplace was only glowing embers. Everywhere he turned he saw metal. Copper plates, iron pots, silver knives and candlesticks would have glittered in other light, now they only cast stark shadows.

He moved to the center of the room. There was no trapdoor, no marking on the floor, but this was a wizard trick he knew - fairly common in old wizard homes. Grandmother Prewett had had a jump-down cellar, with an old mattress for a soft landing. He had a bright memory of a Christmas in her house. Bill and Charlie laughing in the kitchen and his grandmother chasing them with a broom."No little boys jumping in the kitchen!" she had called. Uncle Gideon had swept him up and whispered, "Wait till after tea. She'll fall asleep," then carried him triumphantly on his shoulders. Funny, he could remember that house as if it still existed.

He jumped up and felt his feet slide though the liquid floor pushing downward into the cellar below. With a loud click his boots hit stone and he found himself surrounded by shelves as high as the ceiling.

Percy lit his wand and wandered down an aisle. Amazing, almost like the library at Hogwarts but containing bottle after bottle of magical wines. He pulled out a bottle and blew the dust away. A 1922 Gooseberry. Damn Malfoy. This stuff was powerful magical sweetness. As he replaced the bottle he heard a sound that made him freeze. A quiet clicking and what sounded like a rope dragging across the floor. He flattened himself against the side of a shelf and peered cautiously around the corner.

It was the strangest looking guard dog he had ever seen. Much larger than a normal dog and fat with tiny legs. It was walking away from him, its over-long tail was hairless and dragged limply behind it."What is it doing?" he thought. It looked like it was going to run into the wall. And then as the creature turned it s head, the sickening horror came over him. In its confusion its red eyes jerked from side to side. It lowered its nose to the ground and bared sharp ugly teeth. It was a rat and it was trapped here with him in a maze of shelves.

Percy shot a stunning spell and started to run. Stunning the thing would not last long. It was too big. He tried to remember Charlie's words on dangerous creatures. Charlie had never mentioned an engorged rat. He scrambled past shelves. No sound came from behind him and he ran to then end of a corridor only to find it was a dead end with no place to turn.

He shot back down the corridor and turned another corner. Still no sound. If only he could test for dead ends. He fumbled in his pockets - a Galleon, several Sickles and a piece of string. He pulled out the string and clenched it in his fist.

"_Extenda Milia_," he muttered and the string lengthened a thousand times and floated before him. "Go that way," he ordered. The string nodded then zoomed away down the dark corridor and within a few seconds returned, hovering snake-like in front of his nose. "Okay then, try that way," he pointed. A few more seconds and he felt a quick tug on the end of the string.

He took off, following it. Behind him he heard the rope-like sound of the rat's tail and he knew it had recovered from his stunning. "Go string," he whispered and he was off again, racing past shelves of bottles, no longer concerned about the sound of his boots on the floor.

He made two more turns and then he saw it, more elegant than the regular shelves and encased in glass. Inside were several ancient flasks and cordials marked with strange hieroglyphics. This must be it. The door was behind the cabinet. He held out his wand and skimmed the area around the cabinet for a key. Dobby had said if he used his wand he would find the key beside the cabinet.

A black ribbon with a gold design fluttered at the side. The key must have been attached to this ribbon, but it was missing. He swore under his breath as he heard the scratching of the rats giant toenails and fell to his knees, desperately searching the floor for a key that might have fallen. "Key Revealo," he muttered. The ribbon flew from the side of the cabinet and stretched flat across the stones, the gold design on the black ribbon glittered under his wand. With a rush of clarity he realized. Letters. It wasn't a design, it was a code! The ribbon held a message.

The rat's tail hit a corner of shelf and he heard bottles shake. Think, Percy. Was it a substitution code? In his mind he tried to rearrange the letters, looking for patterns. 'The answer is simple,' he told himself. 'It's always something simple.' He felt his temper rising in frustration. Why hadn't the elf told him how to use the key? What good was all of this if he couldn't use the key? _Use your wand, owl wizard. Use your wand._ He tapped the ribbon and it rose in the air and began to wrap itself in tight circles around his wand.

He turned his wand sideways as words began to form. P - U - R…

The rat was coming down the aisle, it's teeth bared at him. He couldn't use his wand! The ribbon was still wrapping. E - P - O…He grabbed a bottle from nearby shelf and lobbed it at the rat's head. With a crack, the pungent wine broke open and the rat stumbled…W - E - R…

"Pure Power…Pure Power," he gasped and the door swung open.

Once behind the door he found himself at the top of a dark stairwell that descended into blackness."Lumos," he whispered. The walls were damp rock and the temperature dropped as he descended into blackness. As the stairs ended, he moved into a narrow passageway. What if there was nothing here? A dead end or a trap?

The passage began to widen and ahead he saw a light. A torch hung on a wall next to a door. He reached for the handle and it turned. Inside the room was small, the size of some sort of cell. There was a small desk with stacks of parchment and there in plain sight, the Hogwarts Book and Quill.

The book was not small but it was not as massive as he had feared. In fact, it was smaller than several of his seventh-year text books. On the front, imprinted in gold, it read, _A Record of the Magical Living_. The Quill was unlike any he had ever seen, slender with one side crystal white and the other jet black. Percy's heart raced. He had done it. Soon he would be back home and the Quill would be safely at Hogwarts. He pulled the Portkey sack from his pocket and reached for the Quill, but it raised itself into the air and the book beside it flipped open, pages ripping by as he watched. The Quill lowered and wrote the date in a clear black ink then, _Kevin Gilbert Scott - Norwich_. A baby, a new magical baby had just been born. Before he could move, the pages on the book flipped again, backwards this time, to a page quite near the front. The Quill rose and rested on a name, _Berte Dorathea Swain - Hexham._ The Quill moved backwards across the parchment pulling ink back into itself until the name was erased.

For the first time he understood what was really in the book and he hesitated. The power of what was before him had never seemed so real. But a clicking sound quickly drew his attention.

The door was swinging open.

_A/N - Thanks to Zsenya, St. Margarets, ShouldersFree, and wise little Kate for all the help, encouragement, and good advice on this chapter and on writing in general._


	11. Trapped

Narcissa Malfoy had lost her sense of regal dignity. She looked at the empty desk where the Quill and Book had lain and her complexion turned pale. Her eyes darted around the empty room and she drew her wand.

"I know you're here. You cannot Apparate from this room. Where are you hiding, you filthy coward?" Her hand shook as she zapped aimlessly around the room, her spell sending red sparks bouncing off the stone walls. "Where is the Book and Quill? My husband needs them and he will be most unhappy if they are gone. Find them for me and perhaps he will spare your life." She paused and pushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, then ran her fingers across her lips. "Is it you, Sirius? Are you hiding under Potter's damn cloak again? Don't do this to me Sirius. I know you hate me, but really, what did you expect me to do? You and Bella - always so completely convinced you were right about everything. Well, you can forget that, cousin. Life is about compromise."

"Listen Sirius, you know me well enough to know I really don't care about politics. But Lucius is going to be the next Minister of Magic and he believes he needs that little quill. So give it back, Sirius, and I'll let you go. We'll pretend this never happened."

She stopped and waited expectantly. For a moment, the room was completely still. Then in a fit of anger she brandished her wand in a circle. "Dammit Sirius, I said show yourself!" Slowly the few items in the room began to rise in the air. The desk, the wastepaper basket, the rolls of parchment and quills all floated up, then came slamming back to the ground. From the wastepaper came a strange muffled sound. Narcissa bent down and pushed crumpled papers away to reveal a tawny owl and she pointed her wand at its throat. "You're not Sirius. Who in the world are you? Well don't think I'm transforming you. You'll have to deal with my husband and his friends. I guarantee you, you will wish it had been Narcissa you faced with they get a hold of you."

With a flick of her wand, Narcissa trapped the owl in a cage and bent down to turn a tiny gold key in the lock. The owl let out a threatened screech and thrashed against the bars as she picked up the cage. "Goodness such a fuss. You know you're rather cute. Perhaps I shouldn't tell Lucius about this. I could just clip your wings and keep you as a pet. Of course, you'd have to stay locked up forever." The owl let out a terrified screech. "No? You'd rather face my husband? Well, your choice, I guess." She sighed and carried the cage out the door, through the narrow passageway, and up into the wine cellar.

"Did you like my husband's pet, owl? Nasty creature, isn't he? He wasn't always this size, you know. Boys and their games. Fortunately, his brain didn't engorge with the rest of him. He's just as stupid as they come…Scat you nasty vermin…" She held the rat off with her wand as she passed, wound through the shelves and then jumped back up into the silver kitchen of Malfoy Manor.

"So owl, how did you know where to find the Quill in our house? I wonder, I wonder. Well, lucky you, you'll probably get to answer that question as soon as my husband returns."

She carried him up and out of the kitchen. He could see little around him, the house seemed large and dark. The rustle of her silk dressing gown was the only sound as they climbed flights of marble steps. Finally they entered an elegant room with a low burning fire. Long red velvet drapes fell on either side of the windows. Narcissa sat the cage on a delicate table and Percy could see that a huge portrait of her own likeness hung over the fire.

"Is he back?" she asked the portrait.

"No. His suite is still empty. What are you going to do?"

Narcissa looked in the mirror. She ran a finger over the small puffs under her eyes and smoothed her neck. "I'm going to bed." She waved at the door and the lock clicked. "He's safe. And no one's getting into that cage without this." She pulled a key from her pocket and placed it under her pillow then crossed to a small silver box on her dresser and returned to the cage with an owl treat. "Ah, proud are we? Don't turn up your beak at me, owl. You should enjoy that because life is short." She yawned and stretched across her bed. "Shorter for some than for others."

"Love, I'm telling you I've never heard of him," Madam Rosmerta loaded a tray with three steaming bowls of lamb stew, as Penelope leaned across the bar.

"But I know he was here. Norman Brown. He's a solicitor and he would have had an office here in Hogsmeade. It would have been about twelve years ago. Here, just look at him. Doesn't he look the slightest bit familiar?" Penelope held out a photograph she'd found in a Clearwater corporate directory.

"Hmm…He's nice looking isn't he? A real cutie." Madam Rosmerta handed back the directory.

"So you might remember him?" Penelope asked hopefully.

"Love, running this place is a huge job. I'm not turning my head at every pretty boy who walks through the door. Do you honestly think I'd remember a customer from twelve years ago?"

"No, Ma'am," Penelope sighed. "I guess I'm just grasping at straws."

Madam Rosmerta smiled, poured a frothy cup of hot chocolate, and pushed it toward Penelope. "Drink up," she said as she levitated the crowded tray and followed it toward the back of the pub.

Penelope sighed and quietly sipped the hot chocolate not noticing that someone had risen from a nearby booth and slid onto the stool next to her.

"Know him," a reedy voice said.

Penelope looked over and then down. Long crooked fingers held a shot of fire whiskey. A pimple-nosed, pointy-eared goblin was sitting next to her, his chin barely reaching over the top of the bar.

"You know him?" Penelope repeated in a shocked whisper.

The goblin reached over and pointed a deadly fingernail at the picture. "Him. Yes."

Penelope exhaled slowly. She found all goblins highly distasteful. They were rather dirty creatures and this particular one looked especially knarly and reeked of fire whiskey. Still, he was the only one who was offering her a clue. "Do you mind if I ask your name?"

"Klawvik."

"Klawvik, I'm Penelope. How did you know Norman Brown?"

"Gringotts. Work there. Saw him," the goblin said dully.

Penelope took another sip of her hot chocolate. Getting information out of a goblin was about like milking a toad.

"What does Norman Brown do at Gringotts, Klawvik?"

"Makes Deposit. Every Week. Very large."

"And the last time you saw him in Gringotts was?"

"Friday."

Penelope's heart raced. It was almost all the confirmation she needed. Norman Brown was entering the magical world every week. With a rather sick feeling in her stomach she wondered why this drunk goblin was offering to tell her this. Goblins were usually terribly standoffish with wizards.

"Klawvik, is there some reason you remember him so well?" Penelope looked down at her mug, afraid to hear the answer.

The goblin growled barring dirty pointed teeth and then spat on the bar. "It's Muggle money," he said.

Penelope drank down the last of the hot chocolate in one giant gulp. "Thank you, you've been most helpful," she said quickly. The goblin didn't respond and she pulled her cloak around her and pushed through the crowded pub toward the door.

"Penelope! Wait! Penelope Clearwater!"

She was so distracted she almost didn't respond to the call, but then turned, confused, to see Fred and George starring up at her from a nearby booth.

"What…what are you doing here?" Fred asked eyeing her with surprised interest.

It was shocking how the twins could look so much like Percy and yet so completely opposite at the same time. Where Percy seemed to be all angles, the twins were apple cheeked circles. But the hair was the same, the lips were the same, and sometimes she thought perhaps the eyes were the same.

Penelope cleared her throat. "I…I think I should be asking you that question, Fred Weasley." She checked her watch. "It is past curfew at Hogwarts, even on a Saturday night. You should both be in your dorm room right now."

"Once a prefect, always a prefect, huh, Penelope?" George said dryly.

She tossed her head. "Something like that."

Fred gripped the handle of his mug of ale. "So tell us, fair Lady Clearwater, run into Sir Head-Up-His-Arse lately?"

"You're not funny, Fred," she said tightly.

"I'm not laughing."

Penelope felt her whole face turn red and her mind went blank. A lie, a comeback…where was it? She looked desperately toward the door. She had to get out. "Yes…well…charming as always. Sorry to run but I have more important things to worry about."

"Oh by all means then…" said Fred with mock sincerity.

"Pray, we don't detain you," George added pompously as she started away.

"However," Fred's voice stopped her in her tracks, "should you run into anyone related to our mother, you might want to suggest he send her an owl."

"I don't know about that, brother dear," George interrupted. "The last owl from that person was a real doozy. Returned jumper, no note, regular old Father Christmas our brother Percy."

Penelope felt the rage biting at her and she crossed back and leaned over their booth. "Hold on Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber," she hissed. "You two don't know what the hell you're talking about."

The twins froze in silence and then looked at each other. "Please then Penelope," George said desperately, "why don't you enlighten us?"

Penelope started backing away. "No…no…I've got to go…I'm…I'm…" she bumped into a plump wizard crossing behind her and caused him to spill his butterbeer. "Sorry…sorry…" She turned and fled into the street.

Percy watched the fire burn down to glowing embers. The portrait of Narcissa had closed heavy black lashes and the real Narcissa had reclined on her satin bed. The clock on the mantel said two in the morning. This was it . The worst case scenario. He had always known it might happen and he knew what he would have to do. He'd thought it through. They would take his wand. They'd pour Veritaserum down his throat and then they'd kill him. Then they'd go straight to Grimmauld Place and they'd kill everyone there. The thought of it was sickening. There was only one answer. He'd have to beat them to the punch.

All Order members knew the spell, knew that there were some things worth dying for. Even Penelope knew it - a thought which he had ignored and continually pushed to the back of his brain. _Turn your wand on yourself and repeat the words 'Aquae Phoenix'._

Perhaps it wouldn't be all that bad. They had said it would be painless. It would be alright, he told himself. The world would keep spinning without Percy Weasley. Spring would come without Percy Weasley. The Quill would suck up his name and spit out a new one, some other child born to see sky, smell grass, and touch skin. His mother would cry, but one day she would laugh again. Ron would grow strong and Ginny would grow beautiful and Penelope would…she would…

She would just live…

He knew she could do it. She would live for his sake.

__

It's only a little time, a little space that separates us, my love.

He found his most private memory of her smile and locked it in his heart.

It would be enough.

Penelope ran down the dark street and turned the corner toward the Hogshead. Bending over, she caught her knees and cursed. Norman Brown, the man her grandmother had trusted as executor of her estate was stealing from her, Percy's brothers hated him, and she'd almost just let information about the Order slip. What else could go wrong?

A long mournful screech cut through the darkness and Hermes dove toward her. He came close to landing on her head and his talons grabbed at her hair as he flapped back toward the sky.

"Ouch! You crazy bird! What are you doing? Hermes?"

He circled back again landing on her arm and flapping his wings several times before taking off.

"Come back, Hermes! Where's Percy? What's wrong?"

This time when the owl lighted Penelope grabbed him tightly so he couldn't take off. "Hermes, is Percy in danger?"

The owl hooted and at that moment a fiery phoenix feather dropped from the sky. Penelope grabbed the attached note and read it quickly. Still clutching Hermes against her chest she ran toward the Hogshead and pushed open the oak door. She almost fell into the dirty old pub and every eye turned on her. She made her way toward the bar. The bartender didn't even look at her.

"Excuse me. Excuse me," she whispered, "but I need to use your Floo. It's urgent."

The bartender looked her over once and then went back to folding the stained napkins piled before him. "Back there," he tipped his head. "Kitchen."

Penelope nodded, pushed through the swinging double door behind the bar, and hurried into the gray dingy kitchen. She barely noticed the sleeping animal with curly Q horns beside the hearth, but quickly fumbled on the mantle for some Floo powder.

"Hold on tight, Hermes," she said as she stepped into the green flames. "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place."

Several hours later Narcissa rose and the fire leaped to a lively dance. She sat for a while at her dresser, combing through her long blonde hair. Then she twisted it up into a knot, and donned a pale blue satin robe. "I'll be back, owl," she said as she left, closing the door to her suite with a snap.

His heart was pounding. She was sure to return with Malfoy at any moment. He lifted a sharp talon. Was there a way to pick at the lock? It was awkward, and he had to catch his balance with his wings as he started to tip over. There was a dull thud outside in the hall. He tried to pry at the door with his beak. It rattled and moved slightly, but it was locked fast.

The door swung back open and Narcissa hurried back into the room, a gray hooded cloak now covering her robes. She grabbed his cage and started for the door.

"Don't forget the key," the portrait called.

Narcissa seemed frantic. "The key. There's a key. Where is the key?"

"It's still under the pillow," the portrait instructed.

"Oh yes, yes, of course. I'm just flustered," she said grabbing the key and slipping it into her pocket.

"Don't forget who you are, Narcissa. Lucius Malfoy would be nothing without the Blacks," the protrait called.

She grabbed the cage and headed out into the hall and down the steps. It was clear that Malfoy Manor was just coming to life. The dull grey light of dawn was trickling through open curtains. The Malfoy family portraits were waking and they called to Narcissa as she hurried down the steps.

"Good morning, Madam. Up early Madam?"

"Yes, good morning. Good morning all," she said nodding pointedly to the portraits. She did not slow but headed straight for the front door. Pulling the hood over her head she started out into the morning fog.

Percy could see nothing but a gray mist. He had a suspicion she was following someone or something. He listened carefully and he was sure of it, a rustle of grass ahead. He strained and caught a glimpse of a dark figure. Of course, Malfoy would not murder him in his own house. He was leading her away from the mansion. He wondered how many Death Eaters would be waiting for him.

Her gray cloak almost disappeared into the morning fog. She was climbing a hill and he could hear her breathing had become heavy. She cast a quick look backwards. "Almost there," she whispered.

He wasn't sure whether she was speaking to him or to herself. The sun was beginning to rise a blood red and ahead of him rose the majestic temple. Stonehenge.

Narcissa entered the circle of the temple and drew her wand. "Protego," she cried and a hundred columns of light rose toward the sky. He knew now he was trapped inside the temple. She kneeled, brought forth the key and opened the door of the cage. He hesitated, huddled at the back. The Death Eaters would appear around the temple as soon as he transformed. He had to reach for his wand quickly before they could disarm him, but not before he told Malfoy what he thought of him. Go ahead, he thought. Just get it over with.

With a blinding flash he transformed. One last time to feel the beauty of being human. He had his wand ready and he pointed it at Narcissa's temple. "Have the courage to show yourself before you kill me Malfoy!"

The dark figure stepped forward. "Nobody's killing anybody, Percy.

It was Sirius.

"Sirius…Is this a trick? I don't understand?"

Sirius was grinning, "No trick. Look where your wand's pointed, boy, then maybe you will."

Percy looked at Narcissa and saw that her sleek blond knot was turning black and little curls were springing out in odd places. Her perfect nose seemed to be growing into something less than perfect and her violet eyes were changing to a sparkling aqua blue. The face he loved was smiling at him.

"I save your skin and this is the thanks I get?" Penelope raised an eyebrow and nodded at his wand.

"Better do better than that little brother." Bill emerged from the fog in the same silver grey cloak, beaming at him. Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared with a bright smile across his face and Percy saw that Hermes was sitting on his shoulder.

"I can't believe you're all here," he stammered. "I thought…well, I really thought that…"

"None of that today, Percy," Professor Lupin lowered the silver hood. "You didn't think we'd leave you in there did you?"

"But how did you know?"

"Well, when you got the Quill back to Hogwarts but didn't come home yourself that was a big clue," Bill said. "Plus you've got a faithful friend in that owl. He'd been watching your back." Bill looked serious for a moment. "You were damn lucky, Percy, that Malfoy wasn't home."

"Yes," Lupin nodded, "We've tried to keep a close eye on him."

"It was this young lady who came up with the real plan, though." Kingsley nodded admiringly at Penelope. "Little did we know she had a potion cupboard that would rival Professor Snape's."

Penelope grinned. "I've kept a stock of Polyjuice for months. It came in handy for sneaking past the portraits. They're the real alarm system, you know. But I couldn't have done it without Sirius. He knew the house."

Sirius shrugged. "Unfortunately, I've been in there quite a few times."

Penelope continued quickly. "We took a gamble and guessed that Malfoy would be careless with some of the tower windows. I flew up and climbed inside. After that, it was easy to Apparate close to you. I hid in a closet just outside the door and fortunately, I didn't have to wait long until she came out. Then I...uh…"

"What did you do to her, Pen?" Percy asked amazed.

"Well, I did the full body bind on her, grabbed a hair and then I - " Penelope blushed, "I transfigured her into a broom."

The Order members broke into laughter. "Oh what I would have paid to witness…" Sirius chortled.

"Serves her right," Penelope sniffed.

Percy gaped at her. "What if Malfoy had come home? What if a portrait had seen you? What if Narcissa had put up a fight?"

"Well then we would have broken in and fought to get you out," Bill said.

"I must say this way was much more fun," Sirius grinned at Penelope.

"And actually more expedient too," Lupin added. "It may be hours before Malfoy realizes what's happened."

Sirius growled darkly. "Yes, and don't kid yourself. I doubt he'll find out from my lovely cousin. Narcissa runs by the rules of cover your own ass. It won't be in her best interest to tell the truth so she'll draw a convenient memory blank."

"I don't know what to say," Percy looked around. "Thank you, thank you all." The sun had risen and the fog was beginning to fade. He felt as if a cool rain had washed over a firestorm.

"Well I'd say this mission has been accomplished," Lupin said briskly. "Let's all go home."

Sirius stretched and cracked his knuckles. "Oh no, Remus, the fun's just getting started. I think I'm going to go down there and see if I can sweep a few floors with Narcissa, before I…"

"NO SIRIUS!" they all chorused at once.

"Okay, Okay." Sirius rolled his eyes and then took Penelope's hand and gave a stiff and rather formal nod. "My lady, you are devilishly clever. And you, Fudge boy, well you know what we all think of you." He winked and a smile spread across his face as his body dissolved into the morning mist.

The members of the Order were disappearing one by one, until only Bill remained. "Are you two going to be okay? I think you'll be safe at Penny's for today. You're well protected there."

"Do you think Malfoy's home yet, Bill?" Percy asked. Malfoy Manor looked as still and quiet as ever on the grassy plain.

"If he's not, he will be soon. Keep your ear to the ground Perce. We'll need to know if his plan for this school for Muggle-borns stays on track. As long as Dumbledore is at Hogwarts, I think we'll be able to keep him in check."

Percy nodded then wrapped his arms around Penelope. "You saved me."

"What did you expect?" she smiled.

"That was very dangerous. You could have been hurt, Pen."

"Oh you Gryffindors are all the same," she sighed. "You think you are the only ones who can ever be brave. Come on then, let's go home. I'm suddenly starving."

"Spoken like a Weasley," Percy grinned.

Penelope laughed as he lifted her feet off the ground, "Now, now, let's not get carried away."

Peter Pettigrew appeared in the study of Malfoy Manor and poured himself a glass fire whiskey. He quickly downed it and shuddered, then poured himself a second.

"Help yourself to my whiskey, Pettigrew." Malfoy had slipped into the room. Peter didn't flinch.

"I think I will, Lucius." Peter had become plumper over the past few months and his shabby brown waistcoat was pulled tight. He reached into it and pulled out an antique pocket watch. "I don't have much time for you, Lucius. The Dark Lord has important work for me. Let's get this over quickly. I understand you've hit a bit of a glitch in the pure-blood campaign."

"It's a minor setback." Malfoy pointed his walking stick at the fireplace and a fresh log fell from nowhere causing sparks to shoot from the hearth. "We lost an important tool for now, but I have every intention of getting it back. Sooner than later, I would say. Dumbledore's days at Hogwarts are numbered."

"Well, that could be. But I wouldn't underestimate Albus Dumbledore if I were you," Peter said coolly. "Funny, I thought you had the thing well guarded, Lucius. Any ideas how someone broke into your home and took it? Have you questioned…hmm…your wife, maybe?"

"My wife knows nothing about it."

"Really?"

"What are you insinuating about my wife, Pettigrew?"

Peter shrugged and walked over to the fire and tapped the crystal glass against his silver hand until it broke. "Oops, sorry about that," he grinned. "No matter, it doesn't bleed you see. What do you need me for, Malfoy."

"You know what I want you for," Malfoy hissed. "I want the Muggle money. You've been putting me off for months. But the time for recruitment is coming and we need that money to attract new Death Eaters. Our success depends on numbers and you know as well as I do that we don't have what we did last time…"

"Calm down, Lucius. You've obviously had a bad day." Peter opened an ivory box on the table and pulled out a cigar. He held it to his nose and took short repeated sniffs. "May I?" he asked as he pulled out his wand to light it.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Help yourself."

"Do you know where I've been the past several months, Lucius?"

"I don't really care, where you've been, Peter."

"I've been spying in the pubs and back alleys of Magical London. One particular place has really caught my fancy. A little place called The Owl's Nest: cozy storage cellar; excellent rubbish bins; and most importantly," he chuckled, "educational entertainment." Peter took a deep draw on the cigar and blew the smoke out in a curving tail-like strand. "My time there has been well spent. You see, Lucius, planning is necessary if you want to do things properly. Of course, experience has shown us that _you _don't know about pulling things off properly."

"You twisted pathetic little rat. How dare you…"

"Now, now, now, Lucius," Peter held up the silver hand to stop the tirade. "You do want your fortune, right? Well, I have the perfect case. One vulnerable little heiress, whose weaknesses we can exploit, a huge Muggle fortune, and a way to hurt Arthur Weasley. It's very clean little package, Lucius."

Malfoy's jaw dropped. "Who, what are you talking about?"

Peter turned from the fire with an evil grin. "Does the name Clearwater ring any bells?"


	12. Norman

_A/N: Thanks to Zsenya and St. Margarets and Shouldersfree. A special thanks to Andy33. And to John._

**Chapter 12 - Norman**

Penelope rubbed her dishcloth against the gleaming red wood of the bar, polishing away the very last of the water marks. It was well after midnight and she and Zelda were alone in the Owl's Nest, left to the end duties of closing up. Outside, a hard rain pounded the roof and windows, signaling a fitful beginning to spring.

Zelda pointed her wand at a nearby table, magically flipping the chairs as her broom danced underneath. "Merlin, my feet hurt. I'm ready for a soak in a hot bath."

"Me too," Penelope chuckled. "You know when I first bought this little black dress for work, I thought it was so cute. Now I'd like nothing more than to see it torched on stake for all eternity. No matter how many times I wash it, it still comes out smelling like rancid cauldron cake batter."

Zelda laughed and looked at Penelope shrewdly. "This is grimy work, isn't it love? I'll reason a guess you won't work here much longer."

Penelope blushed, scrubbing harder at the already clean bar. "Things are changing for me." She stopped and folded the cloth carefully. "I've learned a lot here, Zelda. I'm really grateful for that."

Zelda smiled and zoomed the dustpan toward the rubbish can. "Like what? That the _Daily Prophet_ reporters don't tip? That you have to hide the cocktail nuts from Oscar or he'll be reliving them the next day? That men never flush the toilet?"

Penelope grinned. "Some men flush."

"Oh they do, do they? Dearie, if you've found a flusher you better marry him."

"Believe me, I working on it," Penelope laughed. "So what about you? What about taking those O.W.L.'s?"

"It's in six weeks. The Ministry offers special tests for adults who missed or failed as students." She sighed and shrugged. "I guess we'll see how it goes."

There was a knock on the front door. "We're closed!" Zelda said loudly. But the knock came again.

"Who would be coming by here so late?" Penelope asked.

Zelda peeked through the curtains and chuckled. "The fastidious flusher, that's who."

"You're kidding." Penelope's eyes widened. She made a pretense of putting the lid on the box of tiny wands she used to decorate drinks and ducked down to glance at herself in the mirror behind the bar. Zelda shook her head as she unlocked the door.

Percy stood stiffly in the rain, water running in little streams from the points of his umbrella. "Excuse me, Zelda, but I wondered if I might momentarily speak with Penelope."

"Get inside, Percy. Yes, you might _momentarily_ speak with her."

Penelope had moved around to the front of the bar. "Is everything okay?" she asked quickly.

"Yes, everything's fine. I just needed to…um…talk for a minute." They both looked awkwardly at Zelda who cleared her throat and stuck her wand in the back of her brown ponytail.

"Boy, I've still got to clean that loo. Sorry, it might take me a few minutes, dearies. Perhaps we should hire Percy to give lessons." She giggled and winked as she backed into the men's room.

Percy lifted his chin and peered down his nose at Penelope. "Hire me to give lessons in what?"

"Never you mind," she said, pulling apart the folds of his robe and fitting herself against his chest. She only had to tip her face a little to find his lips.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he whispered back.

"I've missed you" she said lowering her head on his shoulder.

He breathed in deeply, holding still for several seconds, then he pulled back to look at her curiously. "Pen, what's that…that…" He made a sour face and started sniffing at her shoulder. "I think it's you! What is that smell? You smell like…"

Penelope pushed him away and folded her arms across her chest. "It's cauldron cakes. And it's not me. It's the dress."

"Cauldron cakes? Are you sure because that really doesn't…"

"Percy, love, are you here for a purpose or did you just stop by in the rain to smell my dress."

He looked the dress over suspiciously then grabbed her hand and dragged her to a nearby booth. "I've got some things to tell you," he said eagerly. "Pen, I've been looking through all the Ministry records and I can't find Norman Brown anywhere. He has no records with the Aurors and what's more I've checked with Professor McGonagall at Hogwarts. He's not even in the _Book of Magical Living._ Penelope, the man is _not_ a wizard."

"I know," Penelope said softly. She looked toward the bathrooms and then leaned forward. "I've been doing some checking of my own, Percy. And you'll never guess…I've _found_ him! Take a look at this." She opened out a white napkin onto the table and pointed her wand at it. Slowly the napkin filled with a cursive writing that looked aged and brown. When the writing stopped she turned the napkin toward Percy. He pulled it close and studied it cautiously.

"You found his records at St. Mungo's?" Percy looked up. "Are you sure it's the same Norman Brown? These are old records, Pen…almost twenty years."

"It's him alright. I checked his birthday against the employee files at Clearwater. It's a perfect match."

Percy shook his head appreciatively. "Merlin, my girl's clever."

"Read the file, Percy." Penelope said. "Read it carefully."

Percy read the napkin for a moment and then leaned back in the booth. "Well, that explains it, doesn't it? We should have guessed."

"Yep," Penelope thumped her finger on the napkin and leaned in angrily. "Our friend Norman Brown is a _squib_! And a big fat liar."

Percy was silent and stared thoughtfully off into space. "Well, you've been lying to him too, Pen. Everybody's lying about something."

"Are you defending him? Don't you see? He's out to control my family's company! I think he's a Death Eater spy."

Percy looked serious. "He may well be, but you have no evidence. You have to be careful about jumping to conclusions."

"Well, what's he doing depositing Muggle money into Gringotts?" Penelope said defensively.

Percy hesitated, "I'm not sure, but I think you need to be less emotional and more analytical about this. If he's a squib perhaps he keeps his own account in Gringotts and he goes there weekly to deposit his salary. I don't suppose Clearwater Industries is making automatic drafts into Gringotts, are they?"

Penelope stopped, her bottom lip protruded slightly and a little wrinkle formed across her nose. "His salary? Oh no, I'm not that clever. I hadn't even thought of that."

"Pen, I asked Bill about that goblin you saw in Hogsmeade and he's a bad sort. Bill says he's been suspended from Gringotts three times and that he's sure he's one of the group lobbying Ragnok for the Death Eaters."

Penelope bit her lip. "He did seem really nasty. But Percy, do you think Norman knows about me? And…you? Has he known I'm a witch all along?"

Percy ran his hand over his mouth as he thought, and nodded slowly. "I think he has. When your grandmother introduced us he looked odd when he saw me. I think he knew who I was."

"You're right. And when I told him you were from Ottery St. Catchpole he laughed at me. And that night after Grandmother's funeral, he commented on my dress robes. Said he thought they'd look good in the clubs. I think Norman Brown has definitely known about us all along."

Percy nodded, "And so the question is…why has he kept it a secret?"

Penelope carefully erased the napkin and folded it neatly on the table. "Because he's up to something," she said. "And I'll bet you fifty Galleons on that, Mr. Weasley."

Penelope crossed her legs and struggled not to fidget. This was her first meeting of the Board of Directors since her grandmother's death and she had already determined it was going to be interesting. She sat at one end of a long sleekly modern table on the seventh floor of the Clearwater Building. To her left, a wall of windows looked out on a rather dreary view of central Glasgow and to her right, was a row of gold framed portraits, her relatives. Grandmother's portrait had been unveiled this morning. She sat in her rose garden, looking serene and very wise, her silver hair gleaming in its always elegant bun. Penelope wished the portrait could speak to her, perhaps wink or give a little nod. But it stayed frozen, held forever in its peaceful pose.

Every head in the room was turned away from her. At the opposite end of the table Norman Brown was reporting on first quarter earnings. He had passed out a bound report that the Board members occasionally flipped through. Penelope thought it was all nonsense. How could they make judgments on earnings when they had no idea what two-thirds of the company was doing?

Brown introduced a petite young woman from the technology department to give a report on the company's latest project - singular flight experiments. With a remote control she caused blinds to lower over the windows, the lights to dim and a screen to drop down for a video presentation. Penelope smiled to herself remembering Percy's excited diatribe about remote controls and how they'd talked a long time about the wand as an extension of the self.

As the lights came back on, the young woman concluded her presentation. "The day will come when our roads will be overgrown antiques," she said. "The Warlock Series promises flight innovation that will be as common as your bicycle. Future consumers will utilize their Warlock for trips to shops or the cinema, and obviously, the Warlock has great recreational potential for those with a keen sense of adventure. Our plans are to continue in-house testing for the remainder of the year and then to begin testing on western European military bases. Are there any questions"

"I'd like to see them…"

Every head in the room turned to look at her.

"Excuse me, Miss Clearwater, did you say something?" Norman Brown was looking shocked.

"Yes. I'd like to see the test runs on the Warlock Series. Perhaps I could ride one?"

"Oh…well...I don't know about riding, Miss Clearwater but…"

"Don't count me out, Mr. Brown. You might be surprised to know that I'm quite a good flyer. I'm not particularly fond of airplanes, but I certainly know a quality broom."

There was a stunned silence and then Penelope broke into a smile and the room erupted in laughter. All except for Norman Brown, who was watching Penelope steadily.

"I can see that Lady Penelope has her grandmother's very unusual sense of humor." He turned to his secretary, a prim and pretty woman with silver wire frame glasses. "Helen, make a note to set up an appointment for Miss Clearwater with the new technologies department regarding the Warlock Series."

"Yes sir, Mr. Brown."

"Now, I think we were finishing up. If there's nothing else, let's stand adjourned."

"No - there is something else, Norman," said a firm voice. It was Morris Campbell, the banker who had monopolized Percy on New Year's Eve.

"Yes." Norman Brown shuffled papers and didn't look up.

"A group of the Board have presented Miss Clearwater with an excellent proposal for her company shares. She has now had that proposal for several weeks and we've yet to hear a response."

"Morris, there is no need for Miss Clearwater to respond to your ridiculous proposal."

Penelope glanced up at the portrait of her grandmother. It was time for the showdown. "No. Mr. Brown, thank you, but I do need to respond."

Her voice seemed to shake Norman Brown. He looked at her down the length of the table and she was sure she spotted fear.

"I greatly appreciate the kind offer and the concern that you have all shown for me during this time. I have made a decision in regards to my company shares." Penelope folded her hands and paused for dramatic effect. "I will gladly relinquish my shares for current market value provided Norman Brown step down as Managing Director of Clearwater Holdings."

An excited uproar broke out around the table. "Well, Norman," Mr. Campbell said, "you've heard Miss Clearwater. I think she's made herself perfectly clear."

"Stop this, Penelope," Norman hissed across the table. "You have no idea what you are doing."

"I don't? Well, it doesn't matter does it? Norman, there are no Clearwaters left except me, and you know very well that I don't need all this."

Norman Brown was very white and breathing quickly. "You do need this company, Penelope. Your world needs this company. " He pointed up at the portraits along the wall. "Look up there. Your father was my friend. Your grandmother my confidante. Do you not think that they would provide for you? Don't you trust them?"

Penelope stood up. "I trust them! It's _you_ I don't trust, Norman Brown! You who have been lying to me."

Norman jumped to his feet. "_I have never lied to you!_ I've told you all along, your Trust is set up for company information to be revealed to you at twenty-one. That's eighteen months, Penelope. You are going to mess up what your family has been working on for years over eighteen lousy months?"

"Eighteen months for you to manipulate this company for You-Know-Who!" Penelope snarled.

"How DARE you!" Norman shot back.

"WHO IS YOU-KNOW-WHO?" Morris Campbell shouted and thumped the table. "I DEMAND TO KNOW WHAT OTHER COMPANY YOU ARE WORKING FOR, NORMAN!"

Norman Brown looked at Campbell with shock then shut his eyes and groaned. "Oh dear God. Alright stop them all, Penelope."

"Seriously?" she looked smugly amused.

"Yes, yes, yes! You win. It's against my better judgment but go ahead…just do it." He waved his hand and sank defeated into his chair.

"Alright then." Penelope pulled her wand from her jacket and waved it quickly around the room. "_Somnabella_" she said and with a thud half the heads fell forward onto the table. Campbell had slumped to his right with his head on Erskine Forsyth's shoulder and was snoring loudly.

"Well, that's impressive," Norman Brown said with a sigh. "I never doubted you'd be powerful."

"You're a squib, Norman. Why have you lied to me? Why did you lie to my grandmother?"

Norman shook his head ruefully. "I _never_ lied to your grandmother. She knew about me all along, just as your father did. That's why they trusted me. They knew I was familiar with the world you would grow into. They wanted to help the company be useful to you."

"Then why didn't they tell me?"

"Well, that's been part of your Trust. Your grandmother wanted you to finish your education. Worry about your career first. And frankly, Penelope, the less you've known, the safer you've been."

"I'm nineteen, Norman and this company is mine. You're going to have to do better than that," Penelope said.

"Alright then," Norman took a deep breath and stood up, "let's take a walk." He opened the conference room door for Penelope. "How long will they sleep?" he asked, looking back nervously.

"Until I wake them up," Penelope answered. "Don't worry, they're perfectly happy." Albert Dunbar muttered gibberish and giggled.

"So it seems," Norman said dryly. "Follow me."

He strode briskly down the hall to his office, a normal-looking executive suite with leather chairs and a picture of men on horses chasing a white fox. Norman looked up at Penelope and nodded at the picture. "That's me," he said.

"What's you?"

Norman placed his finger on the painting. "I'm the white fox." With his words a wall behind his desk disappeared and Penelope saw a tiny room with buttons. It was lift. "After you, Lady Penelope." Norman gestured and she stepped inside. Norman followed her and the door closed behind them. He pressed a button and they began to descend.

"Where are we going? What's this all about?" Penelope asked.

"I told you, Penelope, this is against my better judgment. Things could stay just as they are. You could focus on your Healer training, worry about seeing the Weasley boy, and leave this to me."

"And let you fox me out of my family's money? I don't think so," she sniffed.

"There's such a thing as being too clever for your own good, Penelope." The lift stopped with a slight bump. Norman took a breath and tightened the knot on his tie. "It's time for a tour of Clearwater Enterprises."

The door slid open to reveal a huge space filled with cubicles and people working.

It was the strangest mix of worlds Penelope had ever seen. There were three large fireplaces to Floo employees to various locations and yet each cubicle was set up with what appeared to be working telephones and computers. On the wall were two signs, one obviously electric, the other magically charmed. They both said 'Exchange Rate' in large letters and flashed numbers.

Norman walked to the center of the room and cleared his throat. All of the workers turned toward him. "Excuse me, can I have everyone's attention! I'd like to introduce you all to her Ladyship, Penelope Clearwater. Miss Clearwater is touring the facility as she is now taking the position of Chair of our Board of Directors. I'm sure you will all answer any questions she might have and make her feel welcome." He turned to Penelope. "Lady Penelope these are your employees."

Penelope felt a stab of panic. She guessed at least twenty people were looking at her curiously. And more faces seemed to be emerging down the long hall. Some were smiling slightly, others were frowning. She nodded and gave a rather silly wave.

Norman steered her over to the first cubicle. "Miss Clearwater, this is Gladys Florez, one of our accountants."

"It's a pleasure Miss Clearwater," the woman said as she extended her hand. "I was so sorry to hear about your grandmother. She was a lovely person. She frequently brought roses down here to the basement. Said it was too dark."

"That sounds like her," Penelope said quietly.

"I'm a squib like Mr. Brown," Gladys Florez continued. "I handle Brazil and Peru accounts and South American transfers. I'm a one person shop because transfers between Gringotts and South America aren't huge. But we are growing, right Mr. Brown?"

"That's right," Norman nodded approvingly. "Gladys has been very valuable in assisting Peru with negotiations between the Incas and the goblins."

"Really?" Penelope said slowly, her eyes wide. "That's great. The Incas…um…Wow."

Norman quickly thanked Gladys and steered Penelope further down the hall. "We have squibs, some Muggles with witches or wizards in their families. Frank, your sister went to Hogwarts, right?"

A plump man nodded and smiled. "That's right, Mr. Brown. She's a sales rep for Quality Quidditch Supplies now."

"I think Howard and Clark over there went to Hogwarts themselves." Two men in wizarding robes nodded slightly and Penelope nodded back.

"Obviously, the majority of our staff deals with British transactions. Pounds to Galleons. Galleons to Pounds. But we have a fairly large department for the Euro too. This is Finistra Kremer, she handles Luxemburg." Penelope looked up at a woman who must have been seven feet tall and who was carrying a stack of gold coins the size of hubcaps.

"Pleasure," Finistra said gruffly.

"Finistra's just come from the vaults," Norman said. "Follow me this way and I'll show you…"

"Wait, Norman, you're going to have to slow down." Penelope was almost running to keep up with his long strides. "Are you telling me we are operating a bank?"

"No. We handle transfers of money only."

"Transfers?"

"Transfers of money between the Muggle world and the wizarding world."

Penelope groaned. "Oh no…Norman I'm horrible with money and math. Percy has to balance my…oh never mind. Explain it to me again."

Norman Brown stopped, a small grin on his face. "Imagine your grandmother gave you some money and you wanted to exchange it at Gringotts and buy a new broom. What would you do?"

"Well I'd go up to a goblin and give him my pounds and he'd exchange it for Galleons, Sickles or Knuts." Penelope said calmly.

"And then what happened to your pound?"

"Well, I guess I thought it just stayed in a vault until the goblins came and got it."

"Years ago, you would have been right," Norman smiled. "But that's not really very effective for an economy is it? Rather problematic to just keep money locked in a cave somewhere. That's where your grandfather came in. He was in the British Parliament and was one of about three people including the Prime Minister who knew of the magical world. Your grandmother always thought whatever magical gifts you have were passed down through him. He wasn't a wizard, but he was definitely a gifted man, perhaps he was a bit of a Seer or perhaps he was just lucky. But at any rate, he was able to convince the goblins to trust him and Clearwater started the very first economic exchange program between magical money and Muggle money. Your father followed in your grandfather's footsteps and when you were born and your parents realized you were…well…different, your father really stepped up the effort. Your parents were thrilled. They thought that now the company would be a real value to you and their grandchildren. When I first met your father I was a young solicitor, trying to do work between two worlds. Your father hired me to try to expand the staff. Then, of course, the accident happened. And I guess you know the rest."

Penelope's lip began to tremble. "I'm sorry. It's just…I think I need to sit down."

Norman steered her into an empty office and kindly helped her into a chair.

"I'm sorry. I'm just a bit overwhelmed. You are telling me my parents did this for me? Built this magical business? It's so huge and so important and I had no idea."

Norman reached into his pocket and handed her a handkerchief. "I know it's a lot to take in but do you see now why you must keep your company shares?"

"How does the rest of the Board not know? How have you gotten away with the secrecy for all these years?"

Norman chuckled darkly, "You'd be surprised how people - even smart people - won't ask questions. A little assurance from British Secret Intelligence Service and letter or two from the Prime Minister and they're at ease. After all, these are busy people thinking mostly about running their own businesses. Also the nature of the Muggle work of the company has made it easier to invoke secrecy because of the development of new technologies. I've been quite excited about the Warlock Series myself. I always wanted to be able to fly on a broom."

Penelope wiped her nose and took a deep breath. "Norman, I think you and I need to start over."

Norman smiled and looked down at the floor. "It's not easy to be a squib, Penelope. There aren't many people who can really understand you. Your father offered me a way to bridge my two worlds. Your grandmother became one of my only friends. I assure you, I've worked hard for your family for the past twelve years. However, if you don't trust me and want me removed, I will step down. I would only ask that you carefully consider my replacement."

"I'd like to trust you, Norman. But you have to respect me and be honest with me. I may be only nineteen but I'm not a silly rich girl. I'm a very serious person."

Norman Brown nodded and pocketed the handkerchief she handed back to him. "I can see that you are. Penelope, there is one last thing that you should know. We've never really known why your parent's plane went down that night. But we do know that Dark wizards would love to stop any economic exchange with the Muggle world. For your own safety, what we do here must be a great secret."

Penelope nodded. "I understand, but I have to tell Percy."

"I don't think so," Norman frowned. "That's too dangerous."

"No," Penelope said firmly. "This is too important. He _has_ to know."

Norman shrugged slightly. "You realize that if you ever break up with him, you'll have to Obliviate the information?"

"That's _not_ going to happen."

Norman looked at her shrewdly, stood and offered her his hand. "From what I know of your family and his, I wouldn't be surprised if you were right. Let's go wake up your Board of Directors."

"Oh my," Penelope giggled as she stood, "I'm afraid Morris Campbell is in for a rather rude awakening when I tell him I'm not selling the company."

Norman laughed, "Perhaps he will think it was all his own sweet dream."

Percy slammed the door of Dumbledore's office behind him and leaned back to catch his breath. Merlin, what a bloody mess. He clutched the huge roll of parchment closer to his body as he started down the steps. What would the Order do now? Dumbledore was gone for sure and Umbridge was going to control Hogwarts.

Damn it! If they hadn't gone and put their names on a damn list! And then just left it laying around...Ron, Ginny, Fred, George - all of them. The stupidity made him furious. Had Ron not gotten _anything_ out of his letter?

As the door slid open behind the gargoyle he could hear the voices rising inside Dumbledore's office. He'd only taken a few steps when he heard the sounds of a struggle and then an explosion overhead. He sped up but something grabbed him by the arm and jerked him into a darkened classroom.

"Well if it isn't the Prodigal son." Professor Snape held him flat against the cold stone wall, his hooked nose so close that Percy had to turn his head. "Weasley, do you think you might expound, in your usual annoying manner, on the current circumstances?"

Snape released him and Percy bristled and smoothed his robes. "Dumbledore has confessed to a plot to overtake the Ministry, Professor. The Aurors are attempting to take him to Azkaban."

Snape laughed derisively. "Right. Cornelius Fudge couldn't hold on to Albus Dumbledore anymore than he could wrestle the giant squid." There was a pounding of feet. "Shh…don't move. They're coming."

They sank deep into the shadows of the classroom and heard fumbling and shouting. "You take the dungeons, I'll take the towers!" Kingsley's voice roared. "He can't Apparate you know. He's here somewhere!" They stayed frozen until they were sure the Aurors had passed.

"How did this happen Weasley?" Snape hissed. "And why didn't you give us any warning?"

Percy surveyed Snape with condescension. "I didn't have time! We were here in minutes. Victoria Edgecomb's daughter went to Umbridge a short time ago and divulged information about a secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group. Umbridge notified Fudge and we came straight away. Fudge wanted Auror protection and I was able to get Kingsley. And Dumbledore knew we were coming at least he was somewhat prepared. But in the end it didn't matter because I didn't know about the list. I didn't know what they had called themselves."

Snape looked at him suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

"'Dumbledore's Army.' They put their names on a list and called themselves 'Dumbledore's Army.' It's Fudge's paranoid fantasy. Dumbledore had him until that came out. But they played right into Fudge's hands"

Snape closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "And let me guess who was in charge of this little army. The one…the only …"

"Harry Potter, sir."

"Did they expel him?" Snape sounded almost eager.

"Oh no. Dumbledore took the fall. Claimed he'd organized the group in an attempt to take over the Ministry. That's why they want him for Azkaban."

Snape ran long fingers over his forehead and into his hair as he growled angrily. "Potter...Potter...idiot...idiot."

Percy said nothing, but for the moment, he privately agreed. "I have to get back to the Ministry, sir. At least appear like I'm sending this to the Daily Prophet, though it certainly won't make the paper now."

Snape nodded and pointed to the back of the classroom. "There's a Floo over there."

Percy made his way to the fireplace, reached in his pocket for a handful of Floo powder then turned back to Professor Snape. "Where do you think he'll go, sir?"

"Not anywhere he'd tell you, Weasley," Snape grinned derisively. "Oh and Weasley," Snape took a step forward and pointed his finger into Percy's face. "Your nose is very brown, right there. _Ink_…I do believe."

He turned his back and melted into the dark hall.


	13. Wind and Rain

**Chapter 13 - Wind and Rain**

Percy checked his watch. Two minutes until six o'clock. The shops in Diagon Alley were starting to shut down for the night. The Owl Emporium had drawn its huge curtain across the window and the lights in Flourish and Blotts flickered and went out. He quickened his step across the cobblestones and slipped through the door of Biggins and Tinpenny Jewelers.

He always felt slightly nervous as he walked over the thick oriental carpets toward the counter. He barely glanced inside the other cases with their show of mermaid pearls and ruby-encrusted dragon eggs. Mrs. Tinpenny was behind the counter and she smiled as he approached. She was a kind-faced woman, a few years younger than his mother. Percy had noticed that she only wore two rings herself, one was a lovely blue sapphire, the other a wide gold band. Quite unlike Mrs. Biggins, who usually glittered with rings and gold bracelets.

"Good evening Mrs. Tinpenny. I'm here to make my monthly payment." Percy said. He reached inside his robe pocket and brought out a bag of gold. "Thirty-five Galleons on the first of the month."

"Good evenin', Mr. Weasley," she said and she reached behind the counter and brought up a small purple box and pushed it toward him. He had asked Mr. Tinpenny to design it and he was quite pleased with the final product. Bands of gold and silver overlapped and intertwined. The gold bands were etched with flames and the silver bands were etched with waves. They formed a knot at the center around a single white diamond. Mrs. Tinpenny rested her chin in her hand and looked down at the ring. "Mr. Tinpenny did an exquisite job on this one, if do say so myself. It's a lucky lass who'll wear it."

Percy sighed nervously, "Perhaps I should have gone with a little larger stone. I could keep paying you a little longer."

Mrs. Tinpenny cut her eyes into the back room where Mrs. Biggins seemed to be pouring over receipts, then leaned forward and whispered. "Laddie, I could try to sell you a larger stone, but the truth is that it wouldn't fit your setting. This is a fine stone. The perfect frozen teardrop."

"A frozen teardrop?"

Mrs. Tinpenny smiled. "That's what we in the business call diamonds. I like to think it is a tear of happiness for your wedding day."

Percy fingered the box and then closed it, "Yes. Well if you will add this payment to my account Mrs. Tinpenny, I'd be grateful."

"Mr. Weasley, could you do me a mite of a favor?"

"A favor?"

"Yes, you see it appears to me that you only have one payment left on this ring. And I have other stock coming in. Would you consider taking it a month early? Of course, you would come by next month for your final payment."

Percy stiffened. "Of course, but I wouldn't want to take anything I hadn't finished paying for."

"Well, I know," Mrs. Tinpenny nodded, "But it would help me and with so much of the ring paid for…I certainly trust you'll return…"

"I don't know, Mrs. Tinpenny…my work…if something should happen …there's no one else. I would feel uncomfortable…"

"Go ahead and take the ring, lad."

Percy swallowed. Mrs. Tinpenny was smiling and she pushed the box across the counter. He reached forward numbly and put the ring box in his pocket. "Thank you, Mrs. Tinpenny," he fumbled backwards toward the door. "I swear if I'm alive on this earth, I'll see you next month on the first."

She laughed. "I don't doubt it for a minute! And bring your lassie with you!"

Percy Apparated into Penelope's tiny kitchen and loosened his tie. Ahh…pizza…and from Tony's. He lifted the lid on the square cardboard box but resisted stealing a bite. There was elderberry wine on the kitchen counter with two glasses and…yes…strawberry ice cream in the cold cabinet. He patted his pocket and could feel the ring waiting safely. He would have to plan the perfect moment. Something romantic and suave. He mentally calculated the remainder of his monthly salary. Perhaps they could risk a fine restaurant if it had a little distance from London.

He made his way toward the bedroom and heard her humming. She was in the bath and he knocked gently on the door and peeked inside.

The room was dim and a warm and steamy perfume filled the air. Penelope was bathing under a mound of magical light-filled bubbles that floated up to the ceiling then popped, showering down tiny sparkles over the bath. Her hair was piled up like a Greek goddess and a long slender leg was propped up on her knee and coated with a foamy cream. He leaned against the doorframe and tried not to move.

"Mr. Weasley, are you aware that this is a girl's bathroom?" She glanced at him with a mild smile then turned back to the serious business of the leg, which seemed to be shedding the white foam and becoming more glorious by the second.

"Oh yes…well…my sincere apologies on that one. You see, there isn't a sign."

"Mmm…right…an understandable mistake." The leg disappeared back under the bubbles and she looked at him contentedly. "Did you see the pizza and the wine?"

"Yes, I saw that. It looks delicious." _Though not as delicious as you._ Things were starting to go rather blurry. Oh right, his glasses were fogging.

"What would you like to do tonight?" she said. "Chess maybe? Or, I know, we could get out that old jigsaw puzzle. Does that sound like fun?"

"Um…yeah…that sounds...great."

"All right then, why don't you run along and see if you can find it. I think it's in the hall cupboard on the top shelf. I'll throw on some clothes and be right there."

He nodded but didn't move. She giggled and sank down deeper, flicking a few of the magical bubbles in his direction.

"Go on, Percy."

"Right. Right. I'm going to go right now and...find the puzzle," he droned.

"Good idea."

"It's in the cupboard on the top shelf."

"That's right."

"So I'll see you in...in just a minute."

"Go!" she laughed.

He backed out of the bath, grinning and rested his forehead against the closed door. He was one lucky fellow. He felt completely happy and, at the moment, very sure of himself. He, Percy Weasley, was capable of great things. He was brave and clever, obviously, quite good looking, and he had an engagement ring in his pocket.

The jigsaw puzzle lay unopened on the dresser and on the bed, four feet were propped against the headboard. Penelope's head was on his shoulder, her legs crossed in-between his. "Percy, I think you may have the ugliest feet I've ever seen." She said running her perfectly pedicured toes over his.

"That would be a Weasley foot, thank you very much."

"Red hair and all, hmm?"

"Certainly," he sniffed. "And I'll thank you to not make fun of my feet. I have become quite fond of them as they have proved useful over the years…walking…running…kicking smart-aleck girls in their derrière."

Penelope laughed and kissed his cheek. "I'm fond of them too," she said. "All ten unusually shaped toes." She rolled over and clutched the pillow under her chin. "Tell me what we'll do when the war is over."

"We're going to take a trip," he said, folding his own pillow in half and tucking it behind his head. "The Ionian Islands…Ithaca maybe. Amazing history and there's a resort there run by real Nymphs. There are green olive trees and bright blue water and sand that's almost pink. There are places where huge cliffs shield the beach so that no one can see you when you sunbathe."

"It sounds perfect," she sighed. "I want a picture of you in a toga. And when we get back from this dream vacation?"

"I've been thinking about that," Percy said. The ring was in the pocket of his coat which was hung on the doorknob. This wasn't exactly what he had planned, but he thought perhaps no moment could be more perfect. She was so beautiful. Perhaps he should ask her now, when they were like this.

"I've been thinking too," she said "and there's something I want to ask you."

He smiled wondering if she might beat him to the punch. It was so like her to read his mind. "You can ask me anything," he said running his hand gently down her back.

"Okay," she said and turned to face him. "Percy, when this is all over. Do you think you might consider coming to work for me?"

His smile faded. "What did you just say?"

"You know, at Clearwater. I want you to learn the company from Norman Brown so you can run things. I've been thinking about it a lot and it's perfect for you, everything you know about government and countries and granted, you don't know the Muggle world, but you were great at New Year's and with just a little more practice…what are you doing?"

"I'm getting up," he said from the edge of the bed.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I'm uh…I'm hot and I need a little air."

"Oh God…oh no…I've upset you. Percy, I didn't mean…." she put her hand to his shoulder blade and his muscles clenched and pulled away. "Percy, I'm sorry that came out wrong."

He put his hand up. "I'm flattered Penelope. Working for your company would be a tremendous opportunity. I could sleep with my boss and then work my way up the corporate ladder."

"Oh come on, Percy. Don't be ridiculous. Clearwater is _our_ company. It's ours together."

Percy laughed wryly and shook his head. "Actually, no…it's not, Penelope. Whether you like it or not, it's your company. I have nothing to do with it." He pulled on his pants and reached for his shirt.

Penelope's face had gone pale. She pulled at his arm but he stood straight fixated on his buttons. "Percy wait…we need to talk about this. I didn't mean anything. Please forget I said that. That was stupid."

When he turned, his eyes were bright. "No. It's the truth and we have to face it. You have an enormous responsibility Penny." He sat with his back to her and began to put on his socks. "I just don't know if I'm the best one to help you with it."

Penelope closed her eyes and tears drifted down her cheeks. "Percy, you know I can't help who I am. I'm a Clearwater."

"Yes. And I'm a Weasley." He paused and swallowed. "I can't help who I am, either."

"You are really frightening me." Her eyes were swelling and red splotches had broken out on her cheeks. "I want you to stop this and come back to bed."

"I can't Pen. I need a little time to think. Think about what we're doing and if it's really what's best for both of us."

"What are you saying? You're what's best for me. I need you Percy."

"No you don't. You are beautiful and smart and capable. You don't need me." Percy shrugged, "You may very well need someone to run your company, but you don't need me."

Penelope's breath was coming in short gasps. "Percy, you - _know_ - me. And I _know_ you. I'm sorry I hurt you! _I'm so sorry…"_

Percy turned to her and pulled her into a tight hug and began to rock her gently as she cried. "It's okay. It's okay" he whispered. "I just need to think. I need to think."

He held her for a moment and then stood. "When will you come back?" Penelope asked, her voice breaking.

"I'm not sure," he said, slipping on his coat.

She turned away and balled up under the duvet. "I love you," she whispered.

He gripped the ring inside his pocket and sent silent words. "I love you too."

Percy walked through Regents Park. It was the kind of night they had always shared here, warm and silky with the smell of grass and summer roses. It wasn't like the Burrow where wilderness encroached. It was planned and structured. A testament to man's artistry and his control over nature.

He had told her he needed to think. He wondered if that was a lie, because the truth was he couldn't think. He felt so numb, so nauseous, that just walking seemed to take his total concentration. He found their bench by the lake and sat. The swans were gone. Perhaps if he waited until dawn he could see them waddle to the lake and glide across, graceful and at home in their proper place.

What was her proper place? What was his? All his life he'd been a little less. No matter how hard he had worked or how good he had behaved, he was always second. The second Head Boy, the second perfect O.W.L's, the other brother, the other son, the other friend. The love of his mother had only set him up for ridicule…a mother's boy, tied to her apron strings. And now, what was he doing? Going down the exact same path? Was he his own person or not? Was he a man? In his mind he could hear the taunts from his brother. _Well, if it isn't Lord Percy Clearwater._ He could hear the gossip at the Ministry. _You know the poor Weasley boy had more ambition than talent. I'm sure he married her for the money._

And yet, the thought of life without Penelope filled him with more fear than he could even comprehend. Facing death was one thing. Facing a life of loneliness seemed quite another.

From the weeping willow he heard a musical call. Hermes' happy hoot. Sometimes Percy thought it unfair to call him a screech owl, when he could make such a beautiful sound.

"Why so glum, wizard?" Hermes circled and landed firmly on the back of the bench. "Did you fight with your female?"

"No," Percy huffed and shook his head, "we didn't fight, Hermes. I'm just not sure whether…well…it's complicated."

Hermes circled his head to look at Percy without blinking. "Does this mean no more female? Because if it's all the same, I find her more appealing than you. She gives seconds on owl treats."

"Not surprising," Percy chuckled.

"Ah well, that's a shame," Hermes made a tutting sound and began to poke his beak against his wing feathers. "She seemed an excellent mate to me. However, I understand that human mating is not species specific."

"What are you going on about?" Percy looked irritated.

"Well, different species of birds have different mating habits, you see. Some species mate multiple times, others, like the swans, mate for life."

"It's not that simple, bird." Percy sighed. "Human circumstances are more complex. There are societal expectations. Unwritten rules."

"Really? Like what?"

"Like the man is the head of his family."

"Oh so that's a problem, is it?"

Percy was silent.

"Well, I never understood your human rules. They seem to bend and switch all the time. It's okay to break this rule but not this other. Makes no sense to me. Everyone seems to be writing their own book. And then there's that thing you humans talk about with your mates…what is it?"

"Love," Percy answered.

"That's it," Hermes said. "Shows what I know. I would have sworn that you and your mate had that."

"We did," Percy said. "I mean, we do. I know we do. I guess that's the only thing I do know. It's the only thing I have to go on."

"Well, knowing something is better than knowing nothing isn't it?"

"I guess so."

"I think you need to go make up with that female of yours, wizard because, quite frankly, you are much more pleasant with her than without her."

"That's probably true." Percy said.

"Wizard, can you tell me what love is like?"

Percy sat quietly. The sky was heavy with stars, millions, like his perfect frozen teardrop. "It's like flying Hermes," he whispered. "If you couldn't stretch your wings and move against the air you would feel incomplete. Sometimes it is hard to do…rough spots in the air, wind and rain. You get tossed a bit…and it hurts. But you don't hate the sky because of the wind and rain, do you? Because without it you couldn't fly. You live with the wind and the rain because the flying is worth it. Love is like flying, Hermes. And Penelope is like my sky."

Hermes pointed his beak at his feathers and started violently poking at an itch. "That's fascinating, wizard. If it's the case, I don't know what in the world you are doing out here."

"Me neither," Percy grinned. "Thanks, Hermes. You're a good pet, friend, whatever…"

"Right, right, right, right…" the owl sighed, then twisted his neck eyeing the rushes by the edge of the lake beadily. "Well, cheerio then wizard. You've put me in the mood for a bit of hunting. I'll let you know if I get lucky."

He took off. His wings silhouetted briefly against the night sky before Percy lost him into the blackness.

Percy stood. It was time to find Penelope.

He Apparated back into the flat. He would get on both his knees. He would tell her he didn't care about anything else but how they were together. That it wasn't about him or her but about the two of them. What was best for the two was best for each one.

"Penny?"

The air around him ached. Was it their fight still lingering? It was almost midnight and the lamps were blazing. The pizza was still on the counter, cold and untouched. Something felt wrong. The cows in the painting of the meadow had moved almost to the frame and were chewing their cud and looking at him suspiciously. He looked down and saw a single wine glass broken on the floor. Percy drew his wand and walked cautiously into the bedroom. "Penny? It's me. I wanted to talk."

The bed was unmade and her cupboard open. The bedroom window was ajar, a night breeze making the light curtains dance. He was suddenly very frightened.

"Penny? Answer me."

There was a sound. Something moving in the bath. His heart pounding he pushed open the door. Against the far wall a woman was bound unconscious, a sliver of blood trailing from her temple and down her chin.

It was Zelda Clinkert.

Percy rushed in and with his wand loosened the ropes, pulling the gag from the her mouth. He turned to the sink and with his hands splashed water against her face.

"Zelda, wake up. Where's Penny? Who did this?"

Zelda groaned and when she opened her eyes she let out a strangled sob. "It's my fault. I'm so sorry. The man. He took her."

Percy frantically pulled at the ropes. "Who took her, Zelda? What happened?"

Zelda looked at him fearfully. "There was a man in… the cellar…At first he seemed nice…I thought…he said he knew you and wanted me to go with him to Penny's and when I said 'no' he…he…"

"Did you bring him here, Zelda?"

She nodded and ran her hand against her temple. "My head…oh…"

Percy pulled her to her feet. "No it can't be. There are all kinds of protection charms on this flat…he could have never…"

Zelda shrunk away from him. "Percy, he knew everything about me. He knew about Zoe. He said she would be hurt if I didn't…"

"If you didn't what!" Percy shouted.

"He made me send an owl. And I lied. I told Penny that I needed to talk and that I had to see her. When the owl came back she said to come." Zelda's face twisted in anguish. "She said she had an unopened bottle of wine and some cold pizza."

Percy gritted his teeth and hit the wall with his fist. "Oh damn, damn…Penny no. She lowered the protection charms didn't she?"

Zelda nodded. "We walked right up and when she opened the door…" She lifted a shaking hand and covered her mouth, her body convulsing with sobs.

Percy grabbed Zelda's shoulders and pulled her forward. "Who was the man, Zelda? Who was it?"

"I don't know!" she screamed. "I don't know!"

"Was he tall with silver blond hair? Sort of rich looking?"

"No…no…He was ugly. He was short and bald…and he looked like…"

"What! Zelda stop crying. He looked like what?"

"He…he…looked like a rat."

_A/N: Thanks to the usual suspects - the ever-patient Zsenya, the always supportive St. Margarets, and the huggable gals at Shoulders Free. And thank you a thousand times to my readers and reviewers. sniff I hope I have conveyed to each of you how much I appreciate your time and your thoughts. _


	14. Mirror Images

**Chapter 14 - Mirror Images**

Percy's hands balled into tight fists. Peter Pettigrew had taken Penelope. A pure white hate burned in his stomach and it made him see things more clearly. He would work quickly and methodically. He would find Penelope and then he would kill Pettigrew. Kill him and cleanse the world of his filth.

Percy lifted Zelda from the bathroom floor and steered her toward the bed. "Zelda, I need you to tell me everything you can remember, as calmly as you can."

She wiped her face with a wet cloth and took a deep breath. "Alright. I was closing and I went down into the cellar to count the cases of Butterbeer. We have a delivery coming in the morning and I thought we might be running low. I don't know how he got into the cellar. He wasn't there and then all of a sudden he was. He told me not to be afraid that he wasn't going to hurt me and he said he had to see Penelope."

"What did you tell him?" Percy asked.

"I told him to go to bloody hell. That he couldn't see Penelope because she wasn't working tonight. That's when he told me we would have to get her to the Owl's Nest."

"He wanted you to contact her?"

"Yeah. I told him to sod off. I swear, Percy, I did. But that's when he brought up Zoe." Zelda shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Zoe?"

"My little girl. He knew where she was. He knew she was with my mother. He even knew she was wearing her Puddlemere Quidditch pajamas. He said if I didn't do what he said she would be gone. There was something in the way he talked about her, Percy. I think he was watching her. I didn't know what to do."

Percy nodded and paced. "Zelda, the man's a Death Eater. I'm sure he was watching her. What happened next?"

"He made me send the owl to Penelope telling her I needed to talk. I was praying she would be busy or I thought perhaps if you were with her..."

Percy shut his eyes. "I should have been with her."

"When she sent the owl back, she said she wanted to talk too. She left her address and said to be here at exactly half-past eleven. She said...'if you're late you'll never find me.' The man seemed to love that. He laughed and laughed. I was really frightened."

"How did you get him here?"

"I can't Apparate. I suggested that we fly. I thought I might ditch him, but he wouldn't do it. He said he was good at making Portkeys so he picked up a Butterbeer bottle and did an incantation over it. It took us to the garden outside Penelope's flat."

Zelda's lip trembled and she twisted the bath cloth tightly. "The man, he has this powerful hand. It's not a normal hand. It's metal. He grabbed me with it. I thought he was going to strangle me. But then Penelope opened the door and he hit her with a stunning spell and then drug us both into the bedroom."

"What did Penelope do?" Percy asked hoarsely.

"She was very calm. I was hysterical but she never screamed. She kept talking to this man. He said that she had to come with him...that he...that he..."

"What Zelda?"

"That he needed her blood...a blood signature...he said."

Percy froze, gaping.

"At that point I screamed. The man threw a curse at me and I fell over. I must have hit my head because things went kind of foggy, but I remember that he took her over to the mirror and he told her to look in the mirror. After that I woke up in the bathroom when you were calling Penny's name."

Percy crossed over to the mirror above Penelope's dresser. "He brought her to this mirror?"

"Yes. He told her to look in it carefully. I don't know what she saw, but he was showing her something. It's the last thing I can remember."

Percy frowned. "Well, let's see if we can tell what he was showing her." He pointed his wand at the mirror. _"Reverto."_

The mirror went black and slowly a red color began to form at the center. Flames. As the picture wavered and came into focus they could hear voices coming from the mirror.

"NO...HE'S ALIVE! HE'S BEEN TAKEN! SOMEONE HAS TAKEN MY BABY!"

It hit him with the clarity of a punch in the stomach. Phillip was holding Iris in the dark. They were in their nightclothes. Flames had engulfed the little caretaker's cottage. Muggle firemen were everywhere. This was what Pettigrew had been showing to Penelope.

"Zelda, the Death Eaters haven't just taken Penelope, they've kidnapped her godson. I'll bet anything it's a ransom."

"Penelope's godson, Daniel?" Zelda asked.

"You know about Daniel?"

"Yes, of course, Penelope has told me all about him. She adores him. She said there wasn't anything she wouldn't do…"

"Where did she tell you all this?"

"Well…at work, of course. You know, we talk about our families and stuff."

Percy nodded. They talked at the Owl's Nest. The place where Pettigrew mysteriously appeared in the cellar. He'd been watching her all along. "Zelda, you stay here just in case Penelope returns. I've got to go try and find her."

Zelda nodded. "Percy, I'm so sorry. If anything has happened to Penelope...it will be my fault."

"No," Percy said grimly. "It will be mine."

Percy's feet hit the ground on the pebble path that lead through the Manor gardens. He could smell smoke and see a glow bleeding through the tall hedges. He set off running, the stones crunching beneath his boots.

The cottage was at the bottom of a small hill surrounded by more trees than the main house and when it came into view he could see it was lost. The firemen seemed to be working to keep the fire away from the trees.

He searched frantically in the dark for Phillip and Iris. He spotted them huddled at the edge of the woods. Iris was clutching a dull grey blanket around her shoulders covering her nightgown. Phillip spotted him first, shot a cautious look at the firemen, then held up his hand for Percy to stop. He pointed toward the greenhouses and Percy nodded, making a sharp right and circling broadly to keep in the shadows.

He reached the glass door of the greenhouse and Iris pulled him inside. "Where's Penelope?"

"I don't know. Someone has taken her. Is Daniel gone?"

"Yes!" she said frantically.

"We woke up to smoke in the house. We ran to the nursery first and this was in Daniel's cot." Phillip thrust a piece of parchment at Percy.

**_Have borrowed Mudblood baby for outing with Lady Clearwater.  
Will return upon condition of business transaction._**

The parchment was marked with a Death Eater seal.

Phillip looked at him coldly. "Do you know who has taken my son?"

Percy nodded, his heart in his throat. "Yes."

"Do you know _where_ they have taken my son?" 

"No." Percy swallowed and squared his shoulders. "We've got to figure out a way to track them. We'll have to search."

"We don't have time!" Iris moaned. "My watch! Look at my watch! It says that Daniel is in Mortal Peril!"

Percy grabbed her wrist. The watch. The watch he and Penelope had given to them the night they babysat for Daniel. The watch that was like his family clock.

"Iris give me the watch."

She took it off quickly and Percy took it over to a small potting table and laid it flat. Phillip turned a small plant light on it. The single hand was pointing squarely toward the words 'Mortal Peril'.

"I need a piece of parchment," Percy said.

Phillip turned to a small chest in the corner and started fumbling through drawers of tools. "There's not a pad of paper but there's the instructions for the irrigation system."

"That'll work," Percy said unfolding the paper across the potting table and then easily erasing all writing with a quick flick of his wand. He placed the watch on the top of the blank paper and grabbed a trowel. Turning the trowel upside down he began to firmly but gently tap on the glass face of the watch.

Iris gave a startled gasp. "Stop! You're going to break it!"

"That's the idea," Percy said leaning over and carefully prying apart a crack in the glass. "This watch is charmed," he explained. "I've been watching my dad work with charmed objects my whole life. It's part of his work at the Ministry. Are there tweezers around here?"

Phillip turned back to the large tool chest and returned with a pair of tweezers. Percy took them and carefully lifted off the watch hand and placed it on the white paper.

"My dad built my family's clock that is like this watch. I watched him add my little sister's hand when I was five. In every hand there is a hair from our own head. That's how the clock traces us. A part of us is actually inside it."

"Are you saying there is a part of Daniel in this watch?"

"Exactly," Percy said. He stepped back and frowned at the tiny black sliver on the white paper. "I need to check this with my Advanced Charm Text." He swished his wand and a large leather bound book appeared floating in midair. He quickly flipped through the pages as he spoke. "Penelope had saved a lock of Daniel's hair from one of her visits. To put something of a person inside an object is very advanced charming, but it's not terribly uncommon. Wizard artists do it frequently with their paint…people have been known to do it with books, mirrors, even maps."

Iris gaped at him. "Maps? What are you saying, Percy? Can you make a map to Daniel?"

He ran his finger across the page and frowned. "There's two charms. Spirit of Place and Spirit of Person. In theory, Spirit of Person should work."

"In theory?"

"Well it's just that I've never recycled a charm. It's tinkering with magic and I'm not sure…"

"You're wasting time," Phillip said sharply. "You've got to try!"

Percy nodded. "Okay, stand back." He pointed his wand at the paper and took a deep breath. _"Loco Persona Trahere"_

A beam of light shot from his wand and connected to the tiny watch hand on the paper. The watch hand glowed and then melted into the paper and the single thread of light began to splinter into many threads, reaching the edges, which began to curl and then burst into flame. Quickly, Percy reached out and slammed his hand onto the burning paper. "Damn," he winced. "Don't worry, that was just a first try. Maybe I was a little over-enthusiastic. Let me try to refocus."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Daniel had pulled at his glasses. He could stack blocks. He babbled words just to hear their sounds. Penelope had rocked him in the chair beside their bed. Could he remember how that looked? He opened his eyes and pointed his wand again. _ "Loco Persona Trahere."_

The beam connected with the paper and this time the splintered lights seemed to move into patterns across the paper and they darkened. Lines formed and connected. Streets. Square shapes seemed to become the outlines of buildings. In the center of the map was the single word 'cold.'

"This is better, right?" Phillip said excitedly. This has got to be some place north. Some place where it is still cold."

Percy shook his head grimly. "This isn't fully charmed. A fully developed charm would allow the map to think on its own."

"You've got to try again."

"Try again, Percy," Iris whispered. "You can do this. Penelope has always said you were powerful. She said you were capable of more than you even realized."

Percy looked at Iris. Strange that he had actually come to care about these Muggles. Care about them like a family.

"Alright, let's try one more thing. This time you are going to need to help me."

"Help you?" Phillip shook his head. "We can't help you with magic."

"Yes, I think you can. Professor McGonagall always said that love feeds magic. This time when I do the spell let's all three hold the wand together. I'll say the spell and you two need to think as hard as you can about Daniel. No matter what flashes into your mind, just keep trying to think about him."

Phillip and Iris looked at each other, then nodded determinedly. He pointed the wand one last time and Iris and Phillip clasped their hands together around it.

"Concentrate," Percy muttered, almost to himself. "Ready, then?"

_"LOCO PERSONA TRAHERE"_

The power burst forth with such force that the wand was difficult to hold steady. The table began to shake and then the entire room. Dust and dirt were raining down and swirling up. The gold lines moved once more across the paper and they began to move with lightening speed, changing, morphing into deeper detail. The paper lifted in the air glowing, almost dancing with the rhythmic movement of the patterns. Brighter. Faster. He was dizzy inside the spinning lines. And then without warning, it all stopped. And with a quiet buzz, the fluorescent light blinked on.

Iris was still clutching the wand, her eyes closed and her lips moving in a sort of silent prayer. Phillip looked shaken. "Does that happen all the time?"

Percy shook his head. He was breathing too hard to speak.

Iris opened her eyes. "Did it work? Oh please let it have worked!"

He reached out and picked up the paper. "It worked," he whispered.

The paper was now a clear map. Real streets were marked and on the left a lighter ink displayed a river. A single dot was blinking a location.

"This is the Vauxhall area in London," Phillip said. "Look, there's Black Prince Road and Vauxhall Walk. It looks like he's not too far off the river."

"Let's call the police, right now," Iris said. "They can get over there and get him."

"No, they won't find him," Percy said dully.

"What do you mean? It's right here on the map!"

"Because I know this address. It's a magical building that's owned by the Ministry. To Muggle police it would be invisible."

"What? Are you saying Daniel is invisible?"

Percy cringed. He didn't have time to explain what he now knew. That Daniel had been taken to Lucius Malfoy's school. That the Death Eaters intended to rid the world of Muggle-born magical children. That Daniel was in more danger than just being held as ransom for Penelope's fortune and that the man who had trapped him had once eaten bits of apple and sunflower seeds from Percy's own hand.

"I've got to handle this. But I need your help. I need you two to find an owl and get a message to my brother, Bill. Tell him what's happened and where I've gone. He'll find reinforcements."

Iris nodded and then kissed him on the cheek. "Hurry, Percy. I don't know what is happening. But I know that Daniel is cold and that Penelope needs you. Please hurry."

Percy squeezed her hand, stuffed the map in his pocket and disappeared.

Penelope dropped the Portkey Butterbeer bottle that Peter Pettigrew had handed her. She was pretty sure she was still in London. This was some a deserted street in a run-down warehouse area. She could hear cars in the distance, so she guessed a major thoroughfare was not too far away. She looked around and saw that he was now nowhere to be seen. She considered running for help but she knew she was being watched. Daniel must be close by.

She walked a few steps. In front of her was an empty lot. A tall black iron fence separated the pavement from rambling overgrowth. Wild vines had smothered the trees and bushes. As she approached the fence, a gate swung open and the bramble parted, clearing a path.

She wished for her wand. Pettigrew had taken it and she knew she was completely vulnerable without it. But she had to move forward to find Daniel.

As she stepped through the gate she saw that she was walking on what had at one time been a sort of gravel drive and she went only a short distance before she realized that the path led to a large stone building. Vines had crept over every part of it, so it was easy to see how it had been obscured by the iron fence. On closer inspection she could tell that a large section of the building was missing. She remembered Grandmother telling her of the war air raids along river and she wondered if this building had been a victim.

She climbed the steps to the front door and the vines untwined, retreating like curls of smoke. The moon struck a sign above the door.

**Vauxhall Children's Asylum**

A chill swept over her. This had been an orphanage. She reached for the door and her stomach clenched. Even though it was a warm spring night, the metal was like ice.

She was in an entry hall. "Daniel?" she called. She heard a scampering sound and then a creak. "Pettigrew, where's Daniel?"

A slight breeze lifted her hair and she noticed another door to her right. A pale blue light gleaming around its cracks. She turned toward it and it opened of its own accord.

It was a long and narrow dining hall. A single aisle separated rows of tables. Eight iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling, magically lit with blue flame candles. Tall black windows gaped on either side, the broken panes open to the night.

At the front of the hall a man sat at a single small desk with a candle and an hourglass. He was cloaked in long black robes, and his head hung low, covered by the stiff curls of a ghostly white wig. Penelope was not sure how she was walking, but her legs seemed to move of their own accord. A numbness had crept through her entire body.

"Where is Daniel!" she said.

The man looked up and she froze. Norman Brown.

"You! What are you? Oh God. You bastard. I can't believe I trusted you. You set me up!"

"No…no…Penelope, it's not what you think. Please!" There was a look of panic in his eyes and even though the room was freezing, sweat glistened across his forehead. His eyes jumped nervously.

"Listen to me. First you need to know we don't have much time. Do you see the hourglass? That's how much time we have."

A small pile of sand had gathered at the bottom of the hourglass and it was rapidly increasing in size.

"Time to do what? Where is Daniel? Where is Pettigrew? What the hell do you have to do with this?"

"Pettigrew is here but he's not going to show himself BECAUSE HE'S A NASTY COWARD!" Brown screamed at an empty corner of the room. "He's going to force others to do his dirty work. Daniel's here too, but you don't want to see him. He's in great danger and any move we make…" Brown looked pale and rocked slightly as he spoke. "So let's get down to business."

"NO!" Penelope spat. "I want to see Daniel! How do I know he's really here? What if you've taken him somewhere else?"

Brown groaned and gritted his teeth like a great pain was passing through him. "You don't want to…"

"Don't tell me what I want, Norman! SHOW ME THE BABY!"

From a dark corner a shadow moved forward. It seemed to emerge through the wall, as if it was a part of the building. She felt an icy sting. A dark hooded figure approached. Skeletal decaying flesh held Daniel's little body toward her. He was limp, and ghostly pale, his head dangling backward . The creature drew a long slow breath of death. She gagged. She was on her knees.

_She was falling, speed, uncontrollable, the airplane was spinning, there was screaming._

"No…NO…NO…" She could not look again. And mercifully, the figure was gone. She was on all fours. Her forehead touched the dirty wood floor. She looked to the side and she saw them. Rats. There must have been a dozen and they were scampering nervously at the edges of the tables.

She closed her eyes and tried to control the panic. Percy was not here to save her. She had no one. And without her, Daniel had no one. She was alone and she had to fight.

She pulled herself up. "Is he dead?"

Norman had slumped across the table. He seemed to shake himself back to consciousness. "No. He's not dead. But the sand is moving. We have to hurry."

"What do I have to do?"

Norman pushed forward a piece of parchment. "This is a magical legal agreement. It will contractually bind you and Pettigrew by its terms. The Death Eaters want your company. Once they have it, they'll shut down any Wizard to Muggle monetary exchange. With Goblin relations already weak that will be enough to secure them Gringotts and they'll have money to spare to attract wizards to their cause. Anyone in the magical world outside of their circle will be financially bankrupt."

Penelope closed her eyes against his words and Norman continued matter-of-factly. "They plan to resurrect this Muggle orphanage and they'll convince the Wizarding World that separate education is best. Of course, they'll use it to drain the power from the Muggle-borns and half-borns. Hate loves ignorance, you know." He cleared his throat. "That's what will happen if you sign their contract."

"And if I don't sign?"

"They'll take the soul of the baby." 

"NO!"

"You have to choose, Penelope."

She looked at him bewildered. "I…I have to have Daniel. I need you to give me the baby back."

Norman nodded and pointed to a quill on the table. "This is a blood quill. You must take it and sign this contract. It is very carefully constructed to read that the moment your name appears on the parchment, Daniel will be safely with his mother. Your blood will secure the transfer of your fortune to the Death Eaters."

Penelope stood very still. Had Norman's eyebrow just raised? Was he trying to tell her something? She looked at the hourglass. The sand was almost all gone.

"If I sign my name Daniel will be safe with Iris?"

"By this contract, yes."

"And Clearwater Enterprises will be gone forever? I'll have nothing?"

He looked at her pointedly. "You'll have hope."

"And how do I know, you haven't betrayed me?"

"You don't."

He nodded toward the blood quill. "Shake before you sign."

"Are you mad? I'm not shaking your hand!"

His eyes bore into her. "Penelope, your grandmother would always be gracious in business transactions. Take my hand."

She took his hand. Under the sleeve of his robe he slid his hand farther up her arm. And she felt something warm and wet. Blood was pouring from his wrist covering her own hand now and soaking into the fabric of his robe.

"Norman!"

"Shh…" He squeezed her hand tightly. "Sign, very carefully. The contract states your blood moves the fortune. Once your name appears, Daniel is safe. Hurry now."

She looked at him and picked up the quill. Moving it to her right hand, she coated it in his blood, then leaned forward and signed the parchment. She felt the sting of the Quill as she signed and yet she was not sure where her blood began and his ended.

The moment she lifted the Quill from the parchment she heard a loud 'crack'. The paper rolled itself up and flew across the room and into the silver hand of Peter Pettigrew.

_A/N: As always, thank you for your reviews - I wish I could give each of you a huge hug! Love to Zsenya for the beta and St. Maggie for holding my hand through these really hard end chapters._


	15. The Choice

**Chapter 15 - The Choice**

_The world stands out on either side  
No wider than the heart is wide:  
Above the world is stretched the sky, -  
No higher than the soul is high.  
The heart can push the sea and land  
Farther away on either hand;  
The soul can split the sky in two,  
And let the face of God shine through.  
But East and West will pinch the heart  
That can not keep them pushed apart;  
And he whose soul is flat - the sky  
Will cave in on him by and by.  
_  
From _Renascence_ - Edna St. Vincent Millay

Pettigrew kept his wand pointed at Penelope. With his silver hand he clutched the contract. He sniffed the parchment suspiciously and then broke into a malicious grin. "That's blood, alright," he said, stroking the paper against his lightly whiskered chin. "Thank you, Lady Clearwater, and thanks to your Squib friend here. He's been quite helpful."

Penelope glanced down at Norman. His skin was pale and his pupils had widened. She turned and blocked him from Pettigrew's view. "Fine, you've gotten what you want. If you'll just return my wand. Norman and I will be on our way."

Pettigrew's eyes narrowed and he inched cautiously toward her, breathing quick unsteady breaths. His wand touched Penelope's chest and she tensed but didn't move.

"What's wrong with the Squib? Why is he so quiet?"

Norman's body slumped and his curled wig slipped to the floor. Penelope tried to grab him but couldn't support his weight. He landed with a thud. The sleeve of his long black robe was heavy with blood and it smeared like black paint as it brushed against her clothes.

Penelope kneeled beside him. "He's unconscious. He needs a blood replenishing potion or he'll die. You have to let us go!"

"What?" Pettigrew's nostril's flared and he poked at Norman's body with his toe. "What has he done? Why is he?" He froze and then slowly looked down at the contract. "He didn't? You wouldn't?"

Penelope had her fingers against Norman's neck, searching for a pulse. "He's dying. Please, you've got to let me help him. He's done what you asked. Please."

"Lawyers! Nasty slick bastards! What did he do? He's tricked me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about! I only know he's dying!"

Pettigrew crunched the paper and stuffed it into the pocket of his vest. "Why did you double-cross me, Penelope? Now you've forced me to do something I really didn't want to do." His eyes narrowed and he circled her. "It was all so clean. I get the money, you get the baby. With a really good memory wiping, I could have sent you home. Dumped you some place and let them find you. You'd have been poor and a bit confused but you would have been alive. But now…" He bit his fingernail thoughtfully, tearing it from the quick and then spitting it on the ground. "Now you've put a wrench in it and they'll ask a hundred questions. I can't seem weak to Malfoy." He sighed and shook his head. "Oh I _am_ sorry, Penelope, but you've left me no choice. I'm going to have to kill you."

Penelope eyed the leg of the little desk. She wondered if she could knock it over at exactly the right moment and deflect the curse. If she confused him for a moment perhaps she could make a run for it. The other option was to charge him. Pettigrew was not very big and she was young and strong. The problem was the silver hand. She knew she was no match for that.

"It's such a shame too," he whined. "I was hoping to return you to my favorite family. But, alas, it can not be. Now don't slink away, dear. I promise it will be completely painless." He walked around the table and lifted her hair with the tip of his wand. "Such beautiful curls." Keeping the wand level he crouched beside her. "I don't know if it helps, but you should know that you'll be the hardest one to forget. All the others, I can pretend they didn't exist. But not you."

"Don't forget this, Pettigrew." She threw her arm up and knocked his wand, then punched him hard in the face. He fell backward, his wand shooting green sparks up toward the rafters.

_Apparate,_ she thought. _Home, I want to be home._ But it didn't work. She landed with a thump in exactly the same spot.

Pettigrew drew his hand from his face. Blood was dripping from his nose. "Did you really think that would work?" he sneered as he stood.

She had to think of wandless magic, something direct and simple. She reached her arms to the sky and pulled down. A rafter fell, making Pettigrew jump backward and raising a cloud of dust. Penelope turned and ran.

If she could just get outside the building she knew she could Apparate. The door to the hall loomed ahead. It was coming closer. Only a few feet more. All of a sudden she felt herself slipping backwards. She strained. _No! Run harder! Reach for the door! One foot in front of the other!_ But it was no use. She was flying backwards as if pulled by an invisible rope and she was against Pettigrew. His silver hand clutched her throat. She couldn't breath. He was over her. Choking her. And his eyes were blazing. "Look at the power the Dark Lord bestows on me," he spat through his blood. And then from out of nowhere another voice and a blaze of fire was rushing toward them. She fell, grabbing at her own throat. She felt cold, but she was breathing. She crawled toward Norman and the world went black.

He was killing her. Pettigrew's silver hand was squeezing the life out of her. Never had Percy known such rage and hatred. _"IGNITUS!"_ He hurled the fire at Pettigrew's back with tremendous power. The wall of fire engulfed Pettigrew and he dropped Penelope and turned. She was alive. She was coughing and crawling away. Pettigrew walked out of the blaze toward him.

"Hello, Percy. Long time no see."

"I'm going to kill you Pettigrew."

"You can't."

"Oh believe me, I can. My hate for you would kill ten men."

Pettigrew laughed. "Alright then. Let me rephrase. You won't." He transformed. He was a fat dirty rat running across the floor and out the door.

With a whir of wings and blind fury, Percy was after him. All his senses were directed toward the rat. He could hear his metal toe against the wood and then against stone. He was sliding under the door and heading toward the brambled front yard. Percy soared through the glassless windows. In the moonlight he could see the rat scamper into the overgrown garden, darting into the weeds. He had him. He dove and stabbed his talons into the back of the rat, cutting deeply into the flesh and curling inward to lift the demon creature up.

But instead of flying, he felt himself being pulled down. Something wrapped around his bird body and he was hurled against the iron fence. He felt a horrible pain. Pettigrew had transformed and he had thrown Percy off him with his silver hand. Percy transformed and then caved toward the pain. His left wing was broken. No - his left _arm_ was broken. He gripped his wand more tightly. Pettigrew was slowly walking toward him.

"Come on, Percy. I don't want to hurt you. We were friends once right?"

_"Expelliarmus!"_

Peter flew backward, landed hard and then skidded across the old pebbled drive.

Percy pulled himself to his feet. "Friends? Yes let's do be friends, Peter. You know how to treat your friends don't you? And I plan to be the same kind of friend to you. You betrayed my family, betrayed Mr. Crouch, betrayed Dumbledore and the Potters. Now you try to murder Penelope and you don't think I'll murder you? Let me tell you something rat. Some people forfeit their lives. They freely give away their right to breathe. You are such a person, Pettigrew."

A strange icy gust circled through the garden, bending the thorny bramble in waves.

Peter stood carefully and limped slightly with his first step. "Do you think you could do it Percy? It takes a tremendous amount of hate to throw the curse."

Percy laughed. The pain in his arm just seemed to feed his power. He kept his wand steady and walked forward. "It would be my distinct pleasure to watch you die, sir. I would love to see your blood spill across the ground, seeping into the dirt where it belongs. I would love to watch your body turn hard. Watch life slip out of your eyes. Perhaps I shall leave you for my friends. They would pick you apart and vomit your bones." The wind blew harder and there was a low rumble of thunder in the distance. Percy's wand was now leveled at Pettigrew's throat. "Yes, Pettigrew, I can definitely kill you."

Peter swallowed and pursed his lips. "Well, well. You have grown up, haven't you Percy? Funny how much we are alike."

Percy shook his head and stepped closer. "Oh I'm nothing like you."

"Aren't you?" Pettigrew carefully circled. "Bowing and stooping to old Crouch, to Fudge, to anyone who'll give you power. It's there for the taking, you know. All you have to do is want it. And you want it, don't you, Percy?"

"Power can be used for good."

"Who told you that? You believe that? Power is just power. Good, bad, it doesn't matter. Good power eventually becomes bad. You help one person, you hurt another. Where is the line, Percy?"

"I know where the line is."

"Oh do you? You never doubt it? Because plenty of people doubt you, Percy."

"Not those who really know me."

Pettigrew chuckled. "Wake up, my friend. They believe we are alike, Percy. They don't believe in you. They've never seen your ability or your talent. Just as those who claimed to be my friends never saw mine. Don't you see the truth, Percy? You don't belong. They don't really want you."

The words slammed into him like a hard kick to the stomach. Lightening flashed and Pettigrew's face reflected madly. "You can't kill me, Percy, because you know me. _I am you."_

"NO YOU ARE NOT! WE ARE NOT THE SAME!"

There was a deafening clap of thunder and then he heard it. A raw scream coming from somewhere behind him. Rain had begun to fall in cold salty drops. "Penelope!" he gasped. "Where is Penelope?"

Pettigrew dropped his wand and shook his head sadly. "Poor creature. Did you forget about the Dementor, Percy? You really should have let me kill her."

He transformed into a rat and disappeared into night.

Percy turned and ran. The rain was turning into ice. Hard balls pelting at him, making him slip across the steps. He raced into the building, through the doors and into the darkened hall. His wand was drawn and ready. _"EXPECTO…EXPECTO…Expecto…"_

It is unfair to question Time, to wish for mere seconds. What if he had flown faster or hadn't slipped. What if he hadn't wasted time arguing with a madman. Such questions are pointless when Time and Fate connect, exploding life with new realities. And with a glance he saw his new reality.

He was too late.

A horrific rushing sound filled his ears and he saw her as if she was at the end of a long tunnel. He couldn't reach her. He couldn't even move. He wanted to clutch her to his chest, to kiss her hair, to run his fingers against her ocean eyes. But they were white now. Empty. Vacant.

His knees buckled and he could taste his own blood. The Dementor hovered next to her, still glowing from the radiance of her soul. It moved closer and slowly opened its arms.

There was no other sound, no screaming blackness. His path was clear and simple. He stood tall and took a step, then reached for the infinite sucking hole. Gently, he lowered its hood and parted his lips. And as the Monster's kiss ripped away his flesh, his only thought was that he would see her soon.

He was falling. He was spinning uncontrollably into blackness. No light. No warmth. No freedom. No love. He was no longer aware of any pain, but of a deep suffocating loneliness.

But, he reminded himself - he _wasn't_ alone. _She was here._ Somewhere in this endless void, she was falling too. She would be so afraid.

He wondered if he could find her. Was there some way to reach to her? _Perhaps if he could just find her, then they could fall together._ It was such a little thing, but the idea gave him hope.

And then he saw it, a tiny pin-prick of light ahead of him. He fell faster and the light grew brighter. Was it a star? It was growing larger and he was going to fall into it and burn inside its flames. He didn't care. He only knew it drew him and with deep joy he was one with the light. He was burning and she was with him. He could feel her silky white feathers and hear a music that wrapped around him and caressed him.

Joy spread through him and it seemed to grow. It grew with certainty, like the way a laugh started in her eyes and spread across her face. And it kept growing. One powerful crescendo that enveloped all the darkness and thundered with a deafening power. Exploding. And all the planets and stars and heavens circled.

And he felt pain, and cold and darkness…

"Perce? Come on, Perce. Oh shit. Percy, listen to me twerp, you better damn well wake up."

He opened his eyes. Bill was looking down at him breathing hard and shaking his shoulders.

"Penelope…where? There was a Dementor…"

Bill sat back on his heels and sighed. "He's okay, Mum. He's all here." His mother's face swam into view. She looked pinched and shaken.

"Percy Ignatius Weasley, I have never been so frightened in all my life. What in the world happened?"

Percy sat up. Light was blazing all around the room. There seemed to be people everywhere. He desperately grabbed Bill's arm. "You shouldn't have brought me back. Penelope…it took her and…"

Bill smiled. "She's okay, mate. She's fine. Look over there, Sturgis has her." He looked to his right and saw Sturgis Podmore, looking grey and thin, holding Penelope up and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

"Pen?" he called out.

She turned soft aqua eyes to him and smiled. "I'm here."

"Damndest thing I've ever seen." Mad Eye Moody's giant eye loomed over him and he poked Percy with his walking stick. "Anyone here ever seen a Dementor explode?" he bellowed.

There was a consensus of silence, which was broken by a hoot from a screech owl. The bird circled round and landed next to Percy, folding his wings and standing like a proud sentry.

"Iris and Phillip found Hermes," Bill grinned. "Or maybe Hermes found them, I'm not sure. But we got your message." He helped Percy stand and then stepped back and looked at him appraisingly. "When we got here, you were all on the floor and that Dementor was twisting around like it was sick. I've never seen one act like that. Before we could cast a Patronus, the thing exploded in this blinding light."

"Yep. There are a few bits of it over here," Sturgis said."

"Well, for goodness sake, don't get near it," Molly called. "Mad Eye, make yourself useful and get a broom."

"It was Pettigrew, Bill. He wanted Penelope's fortune and he kidnapped Daniel for ransom. I didn't get him, Bill…I couldn't…"

"It's okay, Perce. We'll get him when the time is right. You did what you had to do."

"He may not have gotten what he thought he was getting, thanks to Norman." Penelope was now standing and her eyes widened with the sudden memory." "Norman! Oh no! Where's Norman?"

Molly took her hand. "We've sent him to St. Mungo's, dear. He was in bad shape, but he still had a pulse. The Healers are doing the best they can."

Penelope's lip quivered and she nodded. She turned and crossed to Percy and her eyes filled with tears. "You're holding your arm like it's broken."

He looked down awkwardly. "Oh yeah. It's hurting a bit."

"Give me your wand."

She straightened out his left arm and touched the tip of the wand several inches below his elbow. "Better?"

He flexed his arm and nodded, "_You_ make me better."

"I wasn't sure you could find me," she whispered.

He leaned over and touched his forehead to hers. "Where ever you are, I'll always, _always_ find you."

He pulled her close and let her salty tears fall on him. They were the miracle that made him wise.


	16. The Bright Afternoon

**The Bright Afternoon**

_Penelope was looking out the window of the plane. The clouds were pink with gold edges. She turned and looked in the seat beside her. A little girl with delicate slender arms and bright red curls was drawing a picture of a castle. _

"_Hello," Penelope said._

"_Hello." The little girl smiled up at her. Teeth were missing on the bottom and the top. _

"_That's a lovely picture," Penelope said._

"_Thank you. It's a school. My cousin goes here."_

"_Really?" Penelope said. "I went to school in a castle."_

"_I know," the little girl said, carefully drawing a triangle at the top of a tower._

"_How did you know?"_

"_Because my grandmother told me so."_

_Penelope looked around her. The rest of the plane was empty. "Where is your grandmother? Can I talk to her?"_

_The little girl smiled her comical smile. "You have to leave the plane now."_

"_What? I don't want to leave the plane."_

_The little girl stood and walked down the empty aisle. Penelope followed her. They stood in front of an open door. There was no rush or sucking sound. The clouds floated just outside the door, looking like she could step on them and walk toward the sun. Suddenly, Penelope was filled with fear. The little girl expected her to jump._

"_Darling, I can't jump from the plane."_

"_Can't you fly?"_

"_Not without a broom, love!"_

_The little girl laughed. "Oh you don't need to worry. My Daddy will catch you." _

_The horror eased away and Penelope smiled. Before she could look at the little girl again, she was floating like a feather past the pink clouds._

She opened her eyes to a gray light and a there was a strange soft sound she didn't understand. But the scent she knew. It was Percy and she realized he was holding her cradled in his lap. For a moment she tried to snuggle against his stomach and go back to the little girl, but the gray light and the sounds were becoming stronger. She sat up.

She was on a beach in a small cove. In front of her a warm fire was crackling. Beyond the fire, a sunrise was bursting color over the water as it lapped the sand in gentle waves. Behind her and on either side steep gray cliffs shielded the wind.

"Where are we?" she asked.

Percy broke off a small piece of chocolate and handed it to her. "We are not too far from my grandparents house. You've only been asleep a couple of hours. Why don't you try to rest some more?"

The events of the night started flooding back into her mind. Daniel. Norman. Pettigrew. The Dementor. "Why can't we go home?"

He looked out across the water. "Not yet. Your flat isn't safe anymore, Pen. Hestia Jones is working on protections for Clearwater Manor, but it's so large it's going to take her a while."

She leaned back against his shoulder. "And so you brought me here?"

Percy shrugged and wrapped his arm around her. "I've always liked this place."

"I was having the nicest dream," she said.

"Really?" he looked only mildly surprised.

She nodded but didn't say anything more and he gently rubbed her shoulder. "Go back to sleep, Pen. Everyone's safe. It's all over."

A horrible pang cut through her and she rubbed her eyes to try to escape it. "No, it's not," she said. "He's still out there. He's still trying to hurt children like Daniel. Trying to kill muggle-borns like me, or squibs like Norman, or you and your family, just because you stand up for what is right. It's not over, Percy, it's just starting."

He was quiet for a minute and pulled his long gangly legs up closer to his chest so that he could rest his elbows over his knees. "That's all true," he said calmly. "But you see, he can't win. I know that now. Not as long as we keep fighting and loving each other."

The sun had risen over the cliffs, casting a golden hue against the sand. He sat beside her looking the way she loved him best, confident and firm, but with the gentle ease he had when he relaxed. "Tonight we came so close," she whispered. "I just don't want to lose you."

He looked at her and his eyes were tender. "I'm going to die one day, Pen. Everybody dies."

"Yes, but you shouldn't have to die when you are twenty. You shouldn't have to die before you've lived."

He took her hands in his, then leaned forward and kissed them. He guided her hand across his cheek and closed his eyes to her caress. When he looked at her again his eyes were red but he held his head up proudly and smiled at her. "I hope I have thousands and thousands of days to spend with you. But even if I have only one day, I can't imagine feeling like a luckier man." He reached into his pocket. "Penelope Clearwater, would you honor my days by becoming my wife?"

Tears were running down her cheeks as he slipped a ring onto her finger. Her voice caught in her throat and she let out the strange sound of a sob mixed with a laugh. "Yes," she said. "Yes, I will be your wife." She wiped her eyes then threw her arms around him and knocked him back on the sand. He laughed happily, kissing her and squeezing her waist until she could hardly breathe. They rolled on their backs and lay close together, watching the sky and laughing at nothing.

Suddenly, she stood and pulled out her wand. Running it along the bottom hem of her blouse she cut off a strip of cotton fabric.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he sat up and scratched the sand from the back of his head.

She handed him the strip of fabric. "Bind us."

"Now?"

"Yes," she said, dropping back to her knees. "Oh Percy, let's not waste a second of our lives. No more time apart. Let's start now. Bind us together."

He raised an eyebrow. "But we don't have any witnesses. We can't sign the Ministry approved legal documents…"

"It doesn't matter. One day we'll have a wonderful wedding with all our family present. But until we can do that, I want to be bound." She held out her hands but then pulled them back. "Wait, though. There's a problem. You don't have a ring."

Percy shook his head. "I don't need a ring."

"Yes you do. You should have a ring too." She took out her wand and lit it then used it to sever a very small lock of her hair. She tied a knot and then working quickly, she wove the strands in and out.. "Give me your hand," she said and she tied the tiny braid around his finger. She added a simple unbreakable charm and the braid hardened into a solid black band. "This will do until I get you a proper ring."

"No," he said quietly. "This ring is perfect. I don't want any other one."

"Are you sure? Perhaps you would like it dipped in gold?"

"No. Never. This is more precious to me than any shiny thing. It is exactly right."

They walked to the edge of the water and he stooped down and with the tip of his wand, drew a circle in the sand. They stepped inside the circle and faced each other. He took her hands and let the strip of torn fabric drape across them. "Penelope Clearwater, I wish to be bound to you," he said.

"Percy Weasley, I wish to be bound to you."

The fabric lifted up, infused with light and then began to circle their hands, wrapping them and finally tying in a knot.

"What do we do now?" Penelope asked.

Percy thought for a moment. "Well, I think we say the things people say when they get married and we pledge our love to each other."

Penelope nodded. "I can do that."

And she did. Saying the things she remembered from other weddings. In the past the words had seemed as simple as a nursery rhyme, but now that she was saying them to the man she loved, she realized what beautiful and important words they were and she squeezed his hands and said them from her heart. Percy did the same and she thought how perfect this was and how she didn't want it to stop.

When they finished she looked down at their hands. They were still tied together by the magical strip of fabric.

"We are still bound," she said.

"I know," he smiled.

"What happens next?"

"We just keep living and loving each other as hard as we can." He leaned in to kiss her and as she felt his lips, warm and gentle on hers, the binding fell away.

Percy checked his watch. It was already past noon and Penelope would be waiting. This section of St. Mungo's seemed quiet and peaceful, even if he always felt ill at ease from the smell, a curious scent of sulphur mixed with spices.

The month had gone by in a blur of adrenaline. He still had a hard time comprehending the Ministry break in, and the subsequent tragedy, but he had had no time to worry or grieve. Fudge was operating in crisis mode, his decisions becoming more erratic every day.

Penelope had been just as busy worrying over her own family, she had spent long hours nursing Norman back to health and helping Iris and Phillip set up housekeeping in the Manor.

The one overwhelming happiness had been having Penelope beside him every morning and every night. He was no longer worried about Fudge watching him and so he had quietly moved her into his flat, vowing daily to fight this war for the sake of their future.

Today was Sunday and the day had dawned with such a gentle blue sky that she had pleaded for more time together, and in an incredibly weak moment of wanting her in the cozy morning sunlight, he had agreed.

They both had a few duties to consider. He was working on a speech for Fudge to the Wizengamot and he needed to polish his fourth draft. Penelope wanted to check on Norman. She had finally agreed to his discharge and Phillip and Iris had graciously invited him to stay for a while at the Manor. With the Order's protections around the house Penelope was reasonably satisfied for everyone's safety.

Percy quickened his pace and turned a corner. A hospital elf in a sparkling white tea towel stood down the hall beside the bone overflow closet. The creature eyed him suspiciously and then returned to his job of polishing a small brass plaque. He thought uncomfortably of Nod and wondered about her. Perhaps now that Narcissa Malfoy had the Black's old elf she would find a new home for Nod. It was a hopeful thought, but he knew in his heart that it was unlikely. From all he had heard the Black's old elf was not only dangerous but senile. He was sure Nod could do three times the work.

He turned another corner and saw room 1293. He could hear laughter as he approached and he didn't bother to knock but opened the door and slipped inside. Norman Brown stood at the foot of his hospital bed. He was dressed in summer-weight pants and a green golfing shirt. Percy noticed his trunk was packed and standing beside the door. From behind, he could see the bright blue scarf Penelope had tied around her curls. She sat cross-legged on the bed while Iris and Phillip sat in nearby chairs. Daniel was balanced on Iris's knee, chewing mightily on a plastic toy broom, a long stream of drool hanging down his chin.

For a split second he watched them. They had the easy comfort of a family - a very unusual family to be sure - but still, a family.

"Well, would you look what the cat dragged in." Norman turned and gripped his hand. His usual firmness and warmth now seemed sincere. Iris and Phillip stood to greet him and after a hand shake from Phillip, a kiss from Iris and a pat on the head for Daniel, Percy took his place behind Penelope. She beamed at him and reached up to gently squeeze his hand against her shoulder. The diamond ring sparkled brightly on her finger. "About time you got here. I was almost ready to leave without you."

"You look like you've been well entertained. What have you four been chatting about?"

"The idiosyncrasies of the Muggle world, my friend," Norman chuckled. "Something I'm _finally_ about to return to."

"You didn't think she'd ever let you out of the hospital did you?" Phillip grinned and nodded at Penelope.

Penelope sniffed, "Norman was very ill for a while. And I was glad to have him here where I could keep an eye on him."

Percy knew there was more to it than that. Penelope had wanted to keep Norman protected from any vengeance seeking Death Eaters and she had purposefully allowed several weeks for his recovery.

"Well, I appreciate the fine care, my friends, but I'm afraid I must be out into the big bad world by myself. I've managed it for over forty years. I think I'll do just fine. Besides, we have a great deal of work ahead of us, don't we Penelope? It's time to start the business of rebuilding Clearwater Enterprises."

"Thanks to you, we still have over two-thirds of our assets. If anyone can recover our losses, Norman, you can. I have complete confidence in you."

Norman smiled but wagged his finger at her. "Never have complete confidence in someone in power, my dear. There must always be checks and balances in any system. Correct, Percy?"

Percy nodded. "Yes. Completely correct."

"How _are_ things at the Ministry, Percy?" Norman's lips tightened.

Percy let out a slow breath and shook his head. "Difficult and divided."

Penelope spoke up before he could finish. "But for one afternoon we aren't going to worry about that. We are headed for a picnic in the park."

"A picnic?" The corner of Percy's mouth twitched.

"That's right. A picnic." She leaned down and pulled a basket from the from under the bed. "Surprise!"

"Yum yum," Percy said sarcastically. "What have you got in there? Plastic bags of chips and such?"

Penelope gave him a swat. "Just you wait, Percy Weasley. You are going to like my picnic."

"Courage, mate. I don't think she'll poison you," Phillip grinned. "But as for me, my stomach's growling and I think I need to get my growing family home." He leaned down and picked up Daniel and eyed Iris pointedly.

Percy helped Norman with the trunk and the men started out into the hall. When he turned around he noticed that Penelope and Iris had lingered behind. They were hugging and talking to each other in a tight embrace. When he finally caught Penelope's eyes he could see they were brimming with tears but she smiled, and grabbed the picnic basket. "Follow me, everyone. I'll get you out of this maze."

They got off the lift on the main floor and made their way to the central floo station. Phillip looked at the fireplaces distastefully. "God, I hate doing this," he said.

Norman slapped his back, "And it never gets any easier, my friend."

"Norman, can I ask you something quickly?" Penelope pulled him away from Iris and Phillip.

Penelope glanced over at Percy and then spoke quietly. "Norman, I've decided I want to give the manor house to Phillip and Iris. Could you help me arrange that?"

Norman's jaw dropped and he hesitated. "Penelope, that's a huge decision. Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. Percy and I won't want to live in that house. We'll want to live in the magical world."

"Yes, but that is your family home, Penelope."

Penelope lifted her head. "And Iris and Phillip are my family. I've thought about this Norman. The Clearwater name stops with me. Grandmother knew that. I think it is right to fill that house with a loving family. Percy and I will find the right place to make our own home." She turned to him and offered her hand. He squeezed it tight.

Norman looked at her seriously and then bowed slightly. "Your grandmother would be very proud of you. I'll get to work on the papers."

"Are you coming, Norman?" Iris was holding a handful of the floo powder. "I'd rather not do this thing myself."

They hurried over to the closest empty grate. Norman took the floo powder and threw it into the fire. They all stepped into the green flames. Phillip and Iris clutched Daniel between them and gave a nervous wave. "Clearwater Manor!" Norman called. And in a flash they were all gone.

Percy placed his hand at the back of her neck and ran his fingers over the soft hairs beneath her ponytail. "You don't have to do that for me, you know. That's a big step to give away your family home."

Penelope thumped him on the chest. "You're just worried about what I'm going to do to your flat."

"It's _our_ flat. And as far as I'm concerned, you can do whatever you please," he paused and looked over his glasses, "as long as you stay within our agreed upon budget."

"R-r-right. The budget. Our agreed upon budget," Penelope nodded. "I can do that. I know I can."

She took his arm and gave the picnic basket a little swing. "I'm so excited about today. Do you realize how long it has been since we have been out on a real date?"

"Miss Clearwater, I could have sworn I saw you this morning. That _was _you wasn't it?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm talking about a proper date, going somewhere outside of the flat. Another week or two and we might get to go to a real restaurant."

"Only if…"

"I know…it's within our family budget."

They stopped quickly at the front desk for Penelope to sign herself out. Percy took the picnic basket and wandered behind the mannequin. He could see the Muggles passing on the street outside when he heard someone call his name.

"Percy?"

He froze and glanced first at Penelope across the room. Her eyes were wide. He turned slowly, knowing who he would see.

"Hello Ginny," he said.

She stood in front of him, her mouth slightly dropped. "Hi…what are you? I mean…I'm surprised to see you."

She had changed. Her face seemed narrower and her hair was no longer in a ponytail but loose and very long. "Oh. I just came to fetch Penelope. We're going to the park. You know lovely day and all that." He awkwardly held up the basket. "What are you doing here? Does Mum know you're out and about all alone?"

Ginny thrust her chin out defiantly. "Yes she does. I just flooed here for a little check up on my ankle. Some things happened a couple of weeks ago, that I'm not sure you are aware of and…well…anyway…the Healers wanted to check my ankle."

Percy's eyes narrowed. "Of course I know what happened, Ginny, and you need to know that you had no business in the Department of Mysteries. None whatsoever. It's illegal trespassing, not to mention you could have been killed."

"Is that all you care about? That we were breaking some rule?"

"I care about _you_. More than you know," he said softly.

Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them she looked over at Penelope who had stepped away from the reception desk but lingered at a respectful distance. Ginny smiled at her.

"I'm glad you are still with Penelope," she said.

"Did you doubt that?"

"Well, I wasn't sure. We haven't heard very much from you this year, Percy."

"I know you haven't and I'm sorry about that."

"Are you going to tell Mum and Dad you're sorry?" She bit her lip and looked at him without blinking.

Percy glanced down and then back up at her. "No, Ginny, I'm not."

She nodded silently and her face remained impassive. "I didn't think so. Things must be very busy for you, with all that's going on at the Ministry. Your boss' problems and all. I'm surprised you have time for a picnic in the park."

Percy took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Well, we can't stop living through all this, can we?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, we have to all go on living." She looked at him for a long moment without saying anything and then cocked her head to the side as if she was trying to see something more clearly. "I've missed you, Percy."

He swallowed. "I've missed you too. You've changed. You're growing up."

She scrunched up her nose and grinned. "Oh, not too much, I hope."

"No,' he smiled. "Not too much."

A nurse with a clipboard appeared at the desk. "Miss Weasley, can you come with me?"

Ginny sighed. "Well, I guess I'll see you sometime."

"Yes. Sometime."

She started to leave but then looked over her shoulder and suddenly turned back. "Percy, do you remember my first year at Hogwarts?" she said urgently. "That night I was so upset after…well…after the Mrs. Norris incident and you came and talked to me? Do you remember that?"

"Of course, I remember that. I'd never seen you so upset."

"Yes. I was crying. I said that I shouldn't be a Gryffindor. That I wasn't brave. That nobody liked me and I didn't have any friends. Do you remember what you told me?"

He shook his head. "Gosh, that was almost five years ago, Ginny."

"Well, I remember. You said - '_I _like you. I'm your brother and I'll _always_ be your friend.'"

He held her gaze and nodded. She smiled slightly, then she turned and walked away, her long red hair gleaming behind her.

After a moment felt a hand at the small of his back. "Are you okay?" Penelope asked quietly.

"I'm fine."

"Do you think she's figured it all out?"

"I don't know. Ginny's hard to hide from."

"I'll say," Penelope looked after her. "She does have a way of turning up at the most inopportune moments doesn't she?" She gently took his hand. "Let's go, darling. A beautiful day's wasting."

The mannequin signaled the all clear and they slipped on to the hot sidewalk. They jogged down the stairs to the underground. The train was waiting with doors open and they stepped on just in time, standing close together and grabbing a pole to keep their balance. "What was that with Iris back in the hospital room?" he asked.

"Oh Percy - the best, most wonderful news! Iris is pregnant!"

"Really? Well, that _is_ good news."

"I'm only worried that the Manor will be too much for Phillip to care for without more help and now that it is slowly turning into a magical house, with floos and charms everywhere, I don't know what to do about staff."

"What the Manor needs is some magical help. What if I could find the way to get Iris and Phillip a house elf?"

"You have an elf in mind, don't you?"

"Maybe." He stared out the window at the walls of the tube speeding by.

The train came to a stop and he grabbed her hand as they pushed onto the platform and up the escalator. Their pace slowed the minute they crossed through the gates of the park. The summer sun felt warm on his shoulders and it felt so comfortable to have her hand in his. It would move easily away, brushing a hair back from her face or pulling him out of the way of a skating Muggle, but it always returned. He could feel the ring on her finger and he occasionally ran his thumb against it, just to make sure it was still there. Physical proof, he thought. Like the badge.

They found a grassy knoll with an old oak tree. Penelope dropped to her knees and opened her small basket, pulling out a quilt and some dainty china plates.

"So what's for lunch?" Percy said, sitting with his back against the tree.

"Seeing as how you haven't had a good meal in a week, I whipped up a few things," she said nonchalantly, pulling out a broiled chicken, a smoked salmon, swiss cheese, pastries, a watercress salad, strawberries and crème, chocolates…

"What in the world have you done?" Percy gaped as dish after dish appeared from the basket.

"Here, dearest, try the pigeon pie," Penelope held a spoon toward his mouth.

"My God, that's delicious. Amazing, how did you ever…wait a minute. Penelope Clearwater, you didn't make all of this, did you?"

She grinned mischievously. "You don't think I could?"

"Um…no."

She laughed at his expression. "Okay, I had a lot of help. This morning when you were in the shower I flooed Zelda. She put all this together. It was her way of saying 'thank you.'"

Percy sighed and handed her his plate. "Excellent! I'll be sure to stop by the Owl's Nest and offer my thanks."

"You won't find her there," Penelope said as she passed him a napkin. "Better try looking in your own building. She passed her O.W.L.S and has started as an assistant in the Ludicrous Patents Department."

Percy frowned. "That's tough work, but Zelda is used to dealing with the public. She'll do well."

Percy filled his plate three times on all of the delicious food. At last Penelope firmly packed the picnic remains back into the basket where it simply disappeared.

Percy laid his head across her lap. "I could go to sleep right here under this tree for the whole afternoon," he yawned.

Penelope twirled a finger through his hair. "Have I told you today, how much I love you?"

"Yes, but tell me again."

"I love you, my knight in shining armor."

"Alas, fair lady, I'm afraid you get the most foolish knight of all."

She shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't think so at all."

He pulled her beside him and as her lips opened he was stabbed with the sweet pain that tore his heart. She offered breath, life, warmth and he wanted to give it back to her, to move together the way the world turned or the seasons changed, in such perfect harmony that all that ended began again and again and again.

There was a sharp cry from the branches above them. They looked up to see a several small songbirds leaving the shelter of the oak. Hermes was swerving toward them and he landed on a bottom branch and started screaming.

"Hey mate, calm down!" Percy sat up.

Hermes squawked back.

"Where is she?" Percy stood quickly. Hermes took off flying toward the woods.

"Percy, what's wrong?" Penelope asked. "Is it the Order? Is someone hurt?"

"No…yes…" Percy took her hand and started to run. "Come on, we need to follow him."

They ran away from the bright lawns and into the sun dappled shade of a small glade. Hermes was sitting on the branch of a huge fir tree hooting madly. Percy grabbed Penelope wrist. "Don't move." He carefully inched forward by himself, crouching low and disappearing under the fir tree.

"Percy?" Penelope whispered frantically. "What are you doing?"

There was a moment of silence and then his face appeared beneath the boughs. "Come here," he signaled. "I need your help."

Penelope crawled cautiously beneath the branches. Percy was huddled over something small and fluffy. "Careful," he said.

Penelope looked down to see a baby owl on the ground.

"He fell from the nest. Is he hurt?" Percy asked anxiously. "Do you think you can help him?"

Penelope looked up. Hermes was sitting on a high branch beside a quiet meadow owl. There seemed to be a nest full of baby owls beside them.

Penelope tenderly ran her finger over the fuzzy gray fluff. "Poor little fellow," she said, "did your brothers push you out? Or maybe you just got a bit overconfident and thought you could fly." The little owl moved. Fumbling in the pocket of her skirt, she pulled out a lacy handkerchief and gently picked up the creature. He sat cradled in her palm and stretched his wings then cried out angrily. "He's fine," she smiled. "Embarrassed mostly, I would say. Don't you worry, little friend, what doesn't break you will make you stronger."

Percy took out his wand and levitated the handkerchief all the way up to the nest. The meadow owl grabbed the baby with her beak and pushed him in beside his brothers. Percy and Penelope crawled out of the tree and brushed the fir needles from their clothes.

"Looks like Hermes has been busy," Penelope laughed.

Percy shook his head. "Mysterious old chap, not to let on or anything."

They walked to the edge of the glade and stopped just behind the shadows. From overhead, they heard a happy hoot and as they watched, Hermes soared low across the meadow, did an acrobatic loop then sailed away. Penelope grinned and wrapped her arm around his waist, "Unusual to see Hermes so enthusiastic, isn't it?"

Percy chuckled, "Yes, but love can make someone do surprising things."

She looked up at him and smiled and he took a deep breath of courage. The future held just as much joy as it did fear. He firmly took her hand and walked out of the shadows into the bright afternoon.


End file.

Harry Potter, Romance