31. sharp tongues and sharper memories

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Percy hates the name. Anything within her that wants to aid the students of Hogwarts is squashed after she hears the name. Dumbledore's Army, how ridiculous. How true. She loathes that.

"You heard about those Gryfindorks sneaking in and out of the Room of Requirement?"

"Do they really believe they're being subtle?" Draco questions with his sardonic rise of an eyebrow. "They're the noisiest bunch ever."

"Not just the lions," Blaise says lions how one may say slugs that they were about to swallow. "But the whole bunch,"

"Except us,"

"You want to be invited for their little party Parkinson?"

"No Nott, they're preparing for war supposedly and they're not even trying to make allies,"

The conversation strays into a territory they have all skittered around for the past months.

"You believe in the rumour then—?"

"No wait—Parkinson, are you admitting you'll fight with them?" Theo, for a moment, looks truly scary as he wants to be. His posture erect and his eyes gleaming with the dreams of another. "And no Zabini, it's not a rumour anymore."

"The Dark Lord is back," Crabbe and Goyle chorus.

Blaise merely gives a look that could be roughly translated into, 'Really?'

Millicent voices it aloud for him, "And how're you so sure?"

"Oh your relationship with your parents have gotten that worse?" Daphne crosses her arms. "Daddy didn't tell you his Mark was glowing?"

"It was?"

"I thought your dear Mum slept with a new man every week. None of them tell you? Or didn't she give them any time to talk before—"

"That's uncalled for Greengrass,"

"Oh Malfoy, I was waiting for you to grace us with your wise words," Daphne sneers and its an unpleasant thing on her pretty face. "You were too quiet there. You know some say—"

"And some say it'll be lovely to stitch your mouth closed," he interrupts her, a sneer of his own growing on his face, "count your blessings I haven't given it much thought yet."

"You have been quiet Draco," Theo admits, shooting a glare at Daphne. She scoffs.

"A right wittle 'Puff you've become. Where's the loyalty for the noble house you're always gloating about?"

Percy withholds silence, recognising herself to be a stranger in a stranger world of skewed ideals.

"My loyalty demands me of things you'll never understand,"

"And whatever those might be?"

Draco's twist of his lips imposes a cold upon them that they hadn't expected. Whilst there has been the cruelty that he had wielded as a teen that they were familiar of, this haunted man is someone they were yet to be introduced to. "Why do you suppose that I'll tell you that? You wouldn't understand,"

"For—!"

"Your questionable parentage aside," he waves it off as nothing but the damage is done, "with how full of yourself you are, I don't think you'll begin to understand a millennia of history and aspirations, especially of ancestors that we aren't even sure are yours."

Daphne looks positively furious. She draws her wand, "I don't have to prove anything to the likes of you—!"

Draco remains calm, bored even. He tugs his sleeve, a show of the wand holster beneath it. "Then why am I expected to?"

She jerks her chin up, a delay in donning her composed mask again. The curious onlookers swim back into her vision but she shoves them back, along with her so called friends' concerned ones. "You're not the best of us Malfoy." It doesn't invoke the reaction she hoped. "You never were and you never will be. This 'changed' self you've been parading around will never grant you redemption,"

"Who says I'm looking for one?" He answers coolly and Daphne has a hex on her tongue.

"Alright that's enough," Blaise steps in between them as Pansy persuades the wand to lower with her own.

"No Draco—"

"That's enough," Millicent reiterates.

The tension takes it's sweet time to dissipate. Finally, it's Daphne that grabs it by its hand and storms out. Crabbe and Goyle follow when Theo hesitantly moves out as well.

The illusion of invisibility Percy had brought upon herself is torn when a seventh year seeks her out.

"You're needed at the Headmaster's office,"

"What?" A glance at her watch reveals the time to be past midnight. "Now?"

Her senior nods. This somehow dispels the last of the tension.

"What did you do now?"

"I did nothing."

"That's never true,"

By some unspoken agreement, they follow her out. The moon is full and high, unforgiving upon them. It casts long beams of silver and gives an odd edge to mere students.

Mere students in appearance perhaps. Percy muses to herself that they are wrought with many things that robs them of the simple identity to be students. She lags behind even though she's the one that has been called.

None complain. They make their way to the Headmaster's office in their own pace.

"—but our classes are loads better!" Pansy was arguing.

"They do have the advantage of diversity. Different perspectives on a single subject,"

"It's Potter that's leading them though,"

"More reason ours is superior," it's the first thing Draco's add after the argument.

Percy startles beside him.

He turns to her with a funny look. "You're teaching them as well?"

"No," she breathes, rubbing the back of her neck. "They asked me but I don't want to,"

"Why not?" Millicent grins, "This little band of rebels not exciting enough for you,"

Percy shrugs, reflecting the same. "No, not enough violence involved,"

"You can demonstrate splicing spells on a Gryffindor?"

"Let's not do that Pansy,"

"You're a pussy,"

The slow of rise of chuckles dissolves as fast as it has come. The patter of feet by the corner invites silence from them. There's a flash of red and a choked yell, "Percy!"

"Ginny?" She weaves to the front to take hold of her arms. "What's wrong?" There's a panic in her eyes that she has not witnessed before.

The redhead could do nothing but swallow heavily and point to the way she had come from. "It's Dad."

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Mr. Weasley has been attacked. Harry had foreseen it. Whether the Chosen One had become a seer or had been blessed with prophetic dreams or is destined to become the next Dark Lord all took a backseat. Because Percy is the reason for it all.

Harry and Percy faced each other in the hospital hallway. In one of the many rooms, Mr. Wesley lay bandaged on the cot, barely conscious. His family swarmed around him, worried whispers and barely resolved arguments.

A menacing wand poked at his life line. It's holder far more terrifying than any spell that could be thrown at him. The wand—so unlike the standard applewood that was given to her—morphs in front of him. It grows and sharpens to become a sword and it pierces his fragile vein—

Harry gasps, clutching at his scar.

"You alright?" The very person that has been killing him moments ago sat in the chair in front of him. He blinks and the blank stare vanishes. She peers up at him with something close to concern.

"Harry?"

"Funny question to ask," he sounds bitter—he's been bitter for a while now though he doesn't know why. "don't you think?"

"Alright ok," Percy nods—and she's the picture of perfection for the moment. Tall, tousled, tired, concerned and worst of all, understanding.

"What is your plan?"

"What?" It's better to see her confused. Puzzled at his sudden anger.

"What is your plan?" He says again, as if she hasn't heard it. As if the Weasley clan inside wasn't disturbed by it and lingered by the doorway. "You're not so well at fooling us all you know. In all your act, didn't you think we wouldn't suspect why you let yourself be trampled by us all? After everything, why you're here? Like we wouldn't figure out that you want to be here—"

Percy gives up all attempts at placating him. She stands and that puts an end to his rant, "Don't you dare think for a second I'm here by choice."

Harry stills, panting. Those that have heard her reach for their wands. He thinks they might have started to shoot hexes if they had seen her.

"Don't pretend you know shit," the light plays tricks on his eyes—there's no way her eyes glow. He can't look again as she turns and stalks away.

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32. to make choices in a choice less world

The tensed atmosphere creeps up on Percy's skin and she refuses to be overwhelmed with it. It's a familiar feeling that makes her hands itch for Riptide. The rest of the Order and the kids arrive at the Grimmauld Place for Mr. Weasley to rest.

She tags along since she figured she wouldn't be allowed to go anywhere else anyways.

Percy frowns at the latest redhead in the room. She can't shake off the feeling she knows him. It ambles into her mind as the associated memory rises with it in its own pace. She squints at him till then.

Bill Weasley pulls at his collar and gulps at the girl (boy?) staring at him like they had watched him steal their last spoon of favourite ice cream. It was an uniquely terrifying experience with muggles that he doesn't want to remember.

"I know you," she declares when Fleur contemplates enchanting her to go jump off a cliff. "Don't I?"

Bill recalls quicker than her. Her hair is shorter and her voice was as deep as ever. The latter he remembers very well since her friend then had taken every opportunity to tease her. "Percy?"

"Right," her face breaks into a grin. He is easier to recognise then. The dragon tooth dangling from his ear, the long flaming red hair that Miranda had been quite taken with. He hadn't changed much at all. "Bill, right?"

"What're you doing here?" He exclaims, incredulous, as he moves to shake hands with her.

"What're you doing here?" She asks instead, laughing. "By the gods, you're a wizard?"

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be kid. Of course I'm a wizard—I thought you knew. Beth did reckon I was one,"

"Annabeth," she amends out of habit more than anything. Her hand on his shoulder falls away, her smile does as well. "Of course she was right."

"Right," he drags it, realising too late that he had missed quite a few years of her life. It's not like he knew much in the first place. "You found your friend then?"

"Yeah we did," she attempts a smile, it regains its radiance as she adds, "he's getting married actually."

"That's amazing! It's Katie he's marrying right?"

She laughs. "Yeah we were right!"

Bill grins triumphantly. "Called it, didn't I?"

"Oh please it was clear as a pegasus in a clear sky, painted in rainbow colours,"

"That's an interesting analogy," Fleur had planned to question later but it slips out of her unbidden. She has an amused smile on her face.

"It is, in theory," Percy shrugs, rather uncertainly. "You're far more interesting though," she looks at her and then at Bill with an eyebrow raised, her lips are already quirked into a smile.

"Fleur Delacour," she extends a hand to her with a brilliant smile of her own. She takes a moment to look up at Bill as he wraps an arm around her shoulders. "his fiancée."

"That's amazing news!" She congratulates them. "Were you really going to have your wedding without me?" The mock hurt look is elevated with a hand on her allegedly hurt heart. "I'm hurt truly."

Bill shakes his head, his eyebrows drawing together in something close to an apology. "I was planning to scour the forests for you but I didn't know where to start since you would get lost in a box after all—"

"For the last time, we were not lost—"

"Just admiring the same trees again and again then?"

"They were rare!"

"Wait," Ron interjects and Percy is reminded of the crowd although she couldn't possibly forget them with their captivated stares at the exchange. "you guys know each other?"

"Of course—"

"—they do ickle ronnikins,"

Ginny joins in for their antics. "The question is how?"

"I'm curious as well,"

"We met a couple years ago like what, four years ago?" Percy looks to him for clarification.

"Three, almost four. You're seventeen now?"

"Eighteen,"

"That sounds wrong. Are you sure you're that old?"

"I think I would know my age—," she frowns, interrupting herself. "Wait am I?"

"Haven't changed a bit I see Perce," Bill grins. "We were hunting for a rogue goblin when we came upon them, lost—"

"We were not lost,"

"And we had to help them get out of the forest after finding their friend,"

Her mock annoyance falls for another smile to grace her face. "Thanks for that again,"

He waves it away. "Your Mom's cookies made all of that worth it. How's she by the way?"

Percy rocks on the balls of her feet, overcome with excitement. "She got married and I have a little sister,"

"That's wonderful news! And you accuse me when you haven't even sent me a letter about this?"

The joys leaves her sooner than it had come. "No can do. I wasn't there myself."

Bill is reminded of the striking differences. Upon closer look, he flinches back. An almost imperceptible gesture yet cannot be missed by the trained eye. He's not sure how he had missed it before but the fog around her lifts and he sees that her hair isn't the only thing that has gone beyond recognisable.

It was her eyes first. Whilst they had had an unusual glow to it when he had first seen her, they were dull now, might as well be dead. Then the scars that were seemingly everywhere but the largest across her left eye stood out.

He frowns in the similar way when he had first noticed the burn mark on the side of her elbow all those years ago. Even now, his eyes flit to her side in search for a person that wasn't there.

Kingsley mistakes the gesture to be a request for her identity that he provides with absolute indifference, "She's the granddaughter of He-Shall-Not-Be-Named,"

"Because his name sucks," Percy adds, watching the redhead gape back and forth between her and the auror.

"You are who's what now?"

Fleur is not one to judge but she's aware of those that one should be wary of. She lays a hand on his shoulder and reiterates her identity in a much more soft way.

"What," the toneless word would be repeated for infinite time as they caught up. Laughter would be hesitant until Arthur himself guffawed out loud and others would gladly follow.

"I'm surprised how you're still alive,"

"I wonder that myself everyday."

· · ─────── · ❆ · ─────── · ·

The arrival of Bill and Fleur was thoroughly appreciated by Percy. To catch up with an old friend she had met in one of the their humorous quests and get to know his lovely fiancée with her subpar grasp of French had been nice.

She would say some of the other members had enjoyed as well though there were some sour faces and pointed silences.

The thought refused to check out of her mind. It melded over the memory of the kids attempting to do anything to get to Arthur and their anger and fear for the man. It was justified but dangerous to rest in a kid.

She's in the middle of a sigh when a voice jerks her back to the room. "Having not fun thoughts?" The radiant face of Fleur is a nice alternative from the grotesque Black family tree.

Percy takes a moment to reprimand her past self for getting her to this room. In that moment, she forgets what the woman had asked. "What?"

Fleur simply smiles. "There's nothing on your face. Strangely blank and," she points to her hand where she has been twirling her pen without her knowledge, "I think you might create a cyclone with all that."

The pen abruptly stops. She gives a sheepish smile at the woman who did not how true her implications were. "Uh yeah, I'm a bit confused,"

"May I help you in clearing that confusion?" Her french is delivered smoothly, like that of the sweetest song.

Percy smiles, at the woman offering help and her words laced with what she recognises as something close to charmspeak. "No, I don't want to bother you—"

"Bill likes you and considers you a friend," she takes a graceful seat and pats the one next to her, "any friend of his is mine as well. And you seem to be all that he had told me and I'd like to help you." There's not a trace of that strange magical version of charmspeak.

It is that confirmation that allows Percy to take the offered seat and slump. "I just—these kids are gonna fight aren't they?"

Fleur has been here for a very short while but she had been at Hogwarts. She had witnessed their passion first hand along with their impulsiveness. It's another matter altogether that wrecks her, "The war appears so small from there, minuscule,"

"It is their world here," this smile is more wistful, sad, "lose this and they lose their everything."

"They'll fight then,"

"Of course, they'll." She had known.

"Would you fight with them?"

"I don't know."

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I'm a bit torn here. I'm thinking about adding in a few more themes and characters (there's already a lot). Also, the pairings may change. The focus shift to said new themes rather than the pairings? All according to your feedback, of course.