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Chapter Text

"Harry isn't getting my letters," Ron whined.

Mum put more scrambled eggs onto Ron's plate and tutted, in a way that conveyed either sympathy or that she wasn't actually listening.

Errol wasn't suited to delivering post farther than the Lovegoods or the Diggorys. In lieu of spending money they didn't have on a new owl, Mum was most likely hoping Ron would make better friends. Harry Potter was a troublemaker, which was to be expected from a child growing up in London.

Percy declined a second helping. One of their hens had stopped laying, which meant less eggs until next spring. He sighed when Ron looked at him with attempted puppy-dog-eyes. That hadn't worked when he'd been four, and Ron had been really cute at age four. "I'm not lending you Hermes."

"But Errol isn't bringing Harry my letters," Ron said, then drowned his distress in ketchup and eggs. 

Wrinkling his nose, Percy got up. "I have my own letters to send." Maybe Penelope would have more ideas on how to improve their curfew rounds next school year. They were also going to be responsible for initiating the new fifth year prefects. 

"Percy, dear, I'll need your help before lunch."

"Yes, Mum."

While the others scampered off to play in the orchard, where they hopefully wouldn't get into trouble, Percy sat down at Bill's old desk in Charlie's old room and took his responsibilities seriously.

.oOo.

"Aunt Muriel sent these old things through the floo last night," Mum said, levitating the trunk onto the kitchen table. "I brought down the boxes of Charlie's leftover school things too. Hopefully, we can put together something nice for Ginny."

Percy eyed the trunk. It had probably looked alright in 1900, when Muriel had gone to school, but the best Ginny would be getting was functional . As a rule, the Weasley children very rarely got to have nice things. It came with the territory of being poor.

"I'll re-dye them," Mum said about the robes. "They'll be good as new." 

Some leather-care charms and a strong Reparo on the seams brought the trunk back into decent condition. Ginny would hate the embroidery. However much Mum and Dad tried to treat her like their princess, she didn't like girly things at all. Percy almost suggested he and Ginny swap trunks, but managed to keep his mouth shut just in time.

"I'll go fetch Ron's textbooks from upstairs," he said instead. They only needed to last one final year of Hogwarts, so repair charms would have to tide them over until then.

"It's character-building," Mum said when they were done, hands on her hips as she surveyed the kit they had cobbled together. "A few new books, and a family wand from the Prewett side. She'll be off to a great start."

Percy looked at the same sad stack and offered Mum a small smile. "I'm sure she'll make do. We always have."

Mum wrapped him into a hug that was just a bit smothering. "What would I do without you, Perce?" she said into his hair.

You'd have one less mouth to feed. "I'm sure you'd make do. We always have."

"Right." She let him go, wiped at her face, and gave him a small push towards the back door. "Go fetch Ginny so she can help me with lunch."

"Yes, Mum."

.oOo.

"Hello, Cedric."

The other boy smiled. He'd grown over the past month, but he had self-tailoring trousers so his ankles weren't showing like Percy's did. "I made prefect," he said, falling into step with Percy on the path to Ottery Saint Catchpole. "Just like you said."

"Congratulations."

"Dad's really proud, he won't stop talking about it. He's given me four galleons for whatever I like. I was thinking Honeydukes. How about you?"

Percy watched as Cedric clambered up a fence and filled his pockets with plums. "I doubt I'll have any change left for Honeydukes." Mum had sent him down to the village with twelve sickles and eight knuts. He was supposed to shop around for a spatula to replace the one Ginny had accidentally burned. 

"Don't be silly, I'll buy you something. I know how much you love their salted liquorice." Cedric pulled a face. "So long as you don't make me have any." He bit into a plum, handing over a few for Percy.

"Thank you, Cedric." Percy smiled, eating carefully so his face wouldn't get sticky. "I'll share my Christmas fudge with you."

"It's so cool that your mum bakes. I love that."

"Ginny's learning, too. Her chocolate cake is great."

Cedric sighed. "I wish I had a little sister. Or a little brother. Or even a big brother. Having such a big family would be the dog's bollocks."

Percy laughed, startling the sheep that had been grazing in their paddock. "You can have some of mine, take your pick. But those are very different things, having a brother or a sister."

"Yeah? Mum is always going on about how girls and boys are both equally capable . She does say sometimes that she wishes I'd been a girl. Eleanora , she'd have called me, can you picture that? Ha!"

"Mum's really glad she had Ginny, too. I don't think Ginny's very girly, but Mum isn't letting that stop her. Now that Gin's old enough for a wand, mum is teaching her cooking and laundry charms."

Percy wished Mum'd teach him those, too, but he knew she wouldn't, even if he asked. Besides, there was only one reason she would consider why boys might clean their own sheets, and he didn't want her thinking that at all. It just seemed such a useful thing to know. When he moved out, like Bill and Charlie had, he'd need to know these kinds of things. It wasn't like he'd be able to afford a House Elf service to do it for him.

Or maybe he would, if he got a good Ministry job like he was hoping for. Still, it didn't seem fair. Ginny hated all the trappings of being a girl, like household magicks, or having mum plait her hair. Meanwhile, Bill got told off for having his hair too long, and Percy wasn't allowed to learn the spells.

"I guess I could have gone by Ella ," Cedric said. "That wouldn't be too bad. I'd have hair down to my knees. Whenever you'd come visit, you could stand outside my bedroom window and call, ' Rapunzel, Rapunzel!' "

Percy laughed. "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "If you were a girl, I wouldn't visit you at all. Boys and girls don't get to be friends."

"What about you and Penelope, then?"

"That's different." Percy wasn't quite sure why, but he knew it was true. They didn't feel like a boy and a girl when they talked for hours, or wrote letters, or walked their prefect rounds together. 

"Sure, sure." Cedric nudged him again. 

They rounded the bend, the village main street coming into view. "I'll meet you at Honeydukes," Percy said. "See you later, Cedric."

.oOo.

"I told you, you never should have enchanted that car." Even when she was whispering, Mum was loud.

Percy sat on the stairs in his pyjamas, listening. Harry and Ron had gone to bed. Fred and George, too, were exhausted from last night's shenanigans. Ginny was sleeping over at the Lovegoods', safely out of the way.

"Yes, dear." Dad said. He sounded tired. He'd been working overtime again, trying to get his Muggleborn Protection Act through. It'd be very prestigious for his department, and when all was said and done he'd hopefully get a raise out of it.

"Flying willy-nilly through the countryside, like the worst of the muggle-baiters back in the day. They could have been seen, or gotten killed, or arrested. Picture it, Arthur." Mum's voice was growing louder.

"Yes, dear." 

"Don't you 'Yes dear' me, I'm talking about your children's safety. Your job, too. If anyone found out about this, anyone at all, they'd fire you. You know they'd fire you."

"It's not that bad," Dad said. "It's not muggle-baiting if you don't leave it around for muggles to use, you see."

"That's the exact nonsense Lucius Malfoy spouted last time you tried to have his home raided. That's the exact nonsense the law you're writing is going to prevent. How many things in this house will be illegal then? How many more times will our children almost be arrested for something you put into their hands, or their heads?"

"Sorry, dear."

Dad's shoulders would be slumped in tired defeat. Percy got up, taking a big step over the creaking stair, and made his way back to bed.

There was no point in listening, there was nothing new he'd learn. It was always the same with Mum and Dad: his spare time was spent fiddling with Muggle electrics, and she spent the little energy she had left berating him for being irresponsible and foolish.

Percy grimaced to himself as he climbed under his covers. Mum was always worried about the wrong things. The question she should have been asking was, why had Ron asked Fred and George for help instead of going to Mum and Dad?

.oOo.

Dear Bill,

This summer has been mad, or rather, madder than usual. Remember when our biggest problem was making sure the twins didn't drown in the river while we played on the willow like it was a pirate ship? Last week, a storm blew it into the water and we had to cut her down. The river looks wrong now, but I'm too old to go playing anyway.

My OWL results came back. Ten Os and two EEs. You know what mum said? "Just like our Bill." Seven children, but all she can think to do is compare us to you. I understand why you left for Egypt as soon as you could, I really do. I don't begrudge you for it. If I'd been you, maybe I'd have left, too.

Actually, I don't know if I could just go. Dad has almost gotten in trouble at work again for enchanting things he shouldn't have. One of these days, I swear, it's going to be the whole family living off eight chickens, an orchard, and a greenhouse. Who's going to be paying for Ginny's new books, Ron's new robes, Fred's asthma medication, George's potions ingredients? I know why you left for Egypt, and I know mum's too proud to ask, but it's our responsibility now, isn't it? I'll be getting a job next summer, once I have my apparition licence, but just until then I'm counting on you.

.oOo.

Dear Bill,

Thank you. I made sure Ron and Ginny both got new boots for this winter. 

I agree, a Ministry job would be best. Mum's always harping on about it, and someone in the family should step up and do what she wants. Might as well be me, I think. You're all set at Gringotts, Charlie's never leaving his dragons, and the twins don't care enough about what Mum thinks to bother living up to expectations.

They blew a hole in your wall last week. Well, it's their room now, of course. When dad fixed up the wall, he charmed the whole room purple for them. It's almost as much an eyesore as Ron's choice of orange.

Harry is officially staying until the end of summer. You're just saying that he's not bad because that's what Mum says, and she's just subscribing to Professor Dumbledore's views. If you'd met him, you'd think differently. Ron got into so much trouble last year, including losing fifty house points one time and a nasty concussion at the end of the year. It's always Harry this and Harry that, dragging him into things. Ginny isn't sensible enough to keep her distance, but she's too nervous to talk around him. I have high hopes for her yet. 

Isn't it funny how Mum wishes all her sons would go work at the Ministry, but when it comes to her daughter her only expectation is that she'll marry one day? Cedric's mum believes women can do anything and everything they want, and mum thinks they can't even play Quidditch. 

We've all seen Ginny fly. If anyone can play Quidditch, it's her.

.oOo.

Dear Bill,

We survived the family shopping trip. Harry gifted Ginny a full set of the Lockhart texts we were so worried about, so we'll be sharing those between us. My Gemini charm copies last for almost a fortnight now. 

The Sphinx you wrote about sounds even more dangerous than the descriptions in our textbooks. By the time Gringotts forwards this to Egypt, I'll be at Hogwarts and you'll probably have moved on from that tomb already. All the same, I hope you're taking care out there. Remember, Dad can't be counted on if he keeps up like this. If the worst happens, it'll be down to you and me to keep us afloat.

.oOo.

Chapter Text

"So, are we going to talk about the howler?" Penelope asked as they turned off from the charms corridor.

Percy looked at her, but she wasn't looking back. Her eyes were searching for students that might be breaking curfew to get a quick snack from the kitchens. Percy liked how careful she was about always doing her job properly. It was probably why they got along so well. "I suppose, if we must."

"We can totally spend the next half hour in silence, too. I'm game."

"Now that you mention it, the silence did seem rather stilted."

"So," she said, flashing him a grin, "your mum sent a howler. The whole school heard her rant. Is she always like that?"

"Pardon?" He had thought she was going to ask about the enchanted car, like everyone else had been all day. "I mean, yes, that's her usual response when one of her children steals Dad's illegal muggle car and goes galavanting about the countryside where anyone could see."

"You say that like it happens a lot."

Privately, Percy had been impressed Ron could even drive a manual. Dad had taught Percy, and he'd taught the twins, but Ron would only have known from watching Fred go on joyrides up and down the big hill near the Diggorys'. 

"I don't know whom Dad enchanted the Ford for, but he's not the one who drives it most."

"Wizards." Penelope shook her head. "In the muggle world, you wouldn't be allowed to drive until you turned seventeen."

"It's not that hard."

Penelope gave him a look. "The other cars on the road are most of the problem, I figure, and so people need to learn how to not crash into them."

Percy had been on the Knight bus a few times. He didn't remember it ever struggling with traffic. He'd even considered getting a summer job working as a conductor, but mum had talked him out of it. Only people who couldn't manage to find work anywhere else would stoop to driving a bus, or serving people cocoa.

If driving a car was hard, driving a bus must be terribly complicated. It felt strange, having this confirmation that there were things Mum didn't properly understand.

Regarding summer jobs, Professor McGonagall had advised him at the end of last year to look for Ministry internships instead. He'd need to do a lot of networking to get one of the few Ministry jobs right out of Hogwarts, and the time to be making those connections was ideally yesterday.

It was a shame dad wouldn't be able to help. Percy had never really expected him to be useful, but now that Dad had dragged their family name solidly through the mud, it was probably time for Percy to start distancing himself.

Mum wanted one of her sons to work at the Ministry of Magic. Surely, she had to know that there would be certain expectations attached to that prestige. Twelve NEWTs would help Percy's chances, but knowing the right people—having the right kinds of friends—would be better.

"I should probably do more of my rounds with Cedric this year," Percy said. Then he winced, because it'd sounded rather tactless and cruel, even though he'd meant it to be neither.

"I'm sure that's a normal leap, to go from driver's licences to prefect rounds, but I missed it."

"Well, you're…" Percy gestured to her, floundering for words.

"I'm Black. Yeah, good on you for finally noticing, after five years. I thought the wizarding world was better than this."

Percy stopped walking. "No, it's not…oh, this is coming out all wrong. You're muggle-born."

"You had every chance to sign up for doing rounds with someone else." She sounded offended now. Percy deserved that. He fumbled for the words to explain how he'd meant it.

"The thing is, I like doing rounds with you. And you're right, magicals aren't racist like that. But, I need to be making connections this year. You do, too, else we won't have jobs next year. And I know that, and maybe rounds with Roy Edgecombe won't be awful, but…I enjoy this. " He waved his hand between the two of them, not sure himself what he meant.

"I've seen you write essays that blow my arguments out of the water, but you should probably work on your people skills if it's politics you're shooting for."

He offered a sheepish grin. "You're not wrong."

Penelope smiled at him. It didn't make his heart flutter, evoke butterflies in his chest, make him think of kissing her—nothing like that. The other boys had seemed very insistent that developing 'feelings' for their peers was a natural part of growing up, but the only feeling Penelope ever evoked in him was one of being understood. 

"So, we're going to keep doing our rounds together this year?" She asked.

"Yes." He nodded. When he'd been named Percy , they'd said it was after his grandfather, but secretly he'd always thought of himself as a nominative successor to Albus P. Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of his century.

Professor Dumbledore surely hadn't spent his childhood worrying about how his parents would put food on his family's table, or clothes on their backs. He'd probably spent his years as prefect and head boy striding purposefully through these same halls, practising the twinkle in his eye on a long series of political allies that would stand by his side for the many decades to come. 

Percy wasn't sure where it fit, this selfish desire to spend time with a friend, and perhaps a young A. P. Dumbledore would have quashed it under his boot like a bug.

But Percy was the third of six sons, and he spent most of his life doing what everyone else wanted and expected of him. In this, just for a few hours every week, he'd indulge in doing something just for himself.

.oOo.

Mum had said Gilderoy Lockhart was a brilliant man. Looking at him prance about in his lavender robes, Percy wasn't so sure. Professor Lockhart seemed far removed from the type of wizard who would ever camp in a cave with a hag. His first priority when facing a mountain troll would likely be an air freshening charm.

Percy looked down at his Gemini’d books and set them aside, deciding he'd be sitting at the back of the room every class from now on. There was a cause to be politic and rub elbows with influential people, but he had twelve NEWTs to prepare for on top of everything else.

"What was the headmaster thinking ?" Percy hissed at Oliver after class.

"I think Lockhart's rather fit."

"Oliver," Percy said, dodging the boy's shove, "You have to think with your head for once, even if this isn't Quidditch. How will you pass your NEWT?"

"Oh, I'll be fine. Defence is my best subject anyway. The question is, how will you pass your NEWT?"

"I'll send for Bill's old books and notes. I could share, if you want."

"You're a good man, Perce," Oliver said, clapping him on the shoulder. They'd made it to Charms and were waiting for Flitwick to let out his previous class.

"I said I could share." He let it hang. This part always made him feel especially awkward, but he was determined to practise the art that Slytherins learned in their first year.

"You're a wanker. Tell you what, I'll get you his autograph."

"Why on earth would I want that?"

"What do you want, then?"

Flitwick let them all file into his classroom. Percy took the time walking to his desk to consider it. He wanted a Ministry job, but Oliver wouldn't be much use for that. "I want you to keep Harry Potter busy this term. So that Ron has some time away from him to actually get his schoolwork done."

Oliver frowned, but stuck out his hand. "Deal," he said. Under his breath, he added, "I was going to do that anyway."

Percy would have shared his notes anyway, too. It was more the principle of the thing. A game of giving and receiving favours that he needed to learn, lest he end up working a dead end job in the Department of Records.

Or worse, the office for the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts.

.oOo.

In the end, all the Quidditch practice in the world couldn't keep Harry from dragging Ron into the middle of trouble. When they were missing from the Halloween feast Percy almost raised the alarm, ready to go tearing through the corridors in search of stray mountain trolls.

Professor Dumbledore reassured them all several times that everything was perfectly fine, much to the confusion of the firsties. Percy wanted very much to believe him. Unfortunately, this was the same man who had hired Gilderoy Lockhart, thus Percy's faith in the headmaster's faculties was waning swiftly.

It wasn't even a surprise when he found Ron with Harry in the corridor by Myrtle's toilet, being accused by Mister Filch of killing the man's cat.

Percy loitered for as long as possible, so he could write a letter home with all the details. Mum would send Ron another howler and put a stop to all this nonsense. If Harry was murdering people's pets, the next step would be one of Percy's siblings, lying stiff as a board, ghostly pale on a stone cold slab.

"What do you think of the Chamber?" Everyone kept asking, while Percy spent his evenings comforting terrified little children who thought they'd be next. "What am I going to do? I'm a half -blood, I'm a muggle born, I don't even know who my father was."

The topic of blood purity was brought up again and again, like a cow trying to digest something that it couldn't properly swallow down. 

Percy channelled his inner Molly Weasley, gave them each a big hug, and promised that everything was going to be alright. 

Then, Oliver won his Quidditch match against Slytherin, and things were very much not alright.

.oOo.

They were supposed to be their normal evening rounds, like every Tuesday. Cedric was chattering about the game, while Percy nodded at the right moments and kept his eye out for trouble-makers. In a school where half the Ravenclaws knew how to cast Disillusionment charms, catching people who were out after curfew was a tricky business.

Of course, it was the younger years they were mostly looking out for near the kitchens. Penelope was patrolling with Entwhistle near the Astronomy tower, where they'd be casting Homenum Revelio as they went.

Percy had done a bed check, and while all the first year girls were accounted for, one Gryffindor was missing.

They turned the corner and saw him.

"Colin Creevey!" Percy called, "There you are." 

Cedric sighed and interrupted his lecture. It had been about the intricacies of Snitch movement, which Cedric had also explained in great depth their last time doing rounds together, and the time before that. Percy heard Cedric's footsteps hurrying after his own as he went to catch up to Colin.

The boy hadn't even flinched, seeming to be stuck on the 'freeze' aspect of his 'fight or flight' mechanism. Percy had read about that in one of Charlie's books, about how young mammals often instinctively knew they couldn't escape if they tried.

"Colin, there's no sense in pretending we can't see you. Five points from Gryffindor. Now, let's get you back to bed." The boy was holding his camera up like it could protect him. Retrospectively, he must have gotten quite the fright. Percy stopped, just out of arm's reach. 

"Percy," Cedric said. His voice sounded concerned. In their wandlight, Colin did not look well at all.

Percy swallowed, then licked his lips. "Colin, you're breaking curfew. You need to follow us now."

Cedric stepped closer and touched the boy's shoulder before flinching back. "He's stiff as a stone," he whispered.

They didn't have a prefect protocol for finding petrified students in the halls. It was an oversight on Dumbledore's part, Percy couldn't help but think. Surely, someone should have prepared them for this eventuality.

He looked over his shoulder at the dark, empty corridor. The shadows seemed suddenly darker than they had any right to be. "Come," he said to Cedric, "Brighten your Lumos and I'll levitate him." 

Cedric followed, pale and quiet as a ghost, while Percy started off towards the hospital wing where surely Madam Pomfrey would know what to do. Their steps felt far too loud. Percy wondered if Harry would be waiting around the next corner for them, then remembered that Harry was in the hospital wing himself. He realised that this didn't reassure him at all.

At least Ron was in bed, safe and sound. Percy could be grateful for that.

"Ah," said a voice, sounding like it was in great pain.

Percy froze. For a heart-stopping moment, Cedric's Lumos flickered out.

The wall-scones jumped to life, bathing them and Albus P. Dumbledore in warm orange light. "Mister Weasley, Mister Diggory," the headmaster said. "I see you have found…"

"Colin Creevey, sir. He's been petrified."

"Ah." Again, the headmaster sounded alarmingly vulnerable. The image of him in pyjamas with his beard in a hair-net did not help matters at all. Then, Professor Dumbledore straightened, and suddenly he looked both older and younger at the same time. "I will be taking Mister Creevey from here, gentlemen. You have done well. Finish your patrol and head to bed."

Cedric opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but Percy elbowed him in the ribs. "Yes, Headmaster," he said. They'd been given clear orders, and their job was to follow them whether they agreed or not. So, they finished their rounds and went to bed. 

Percy lay awake half the night wondering if they were going to arrest Harry or not.

.oOo.

Chapter Text

"I'm a muggle-born," Penelope said the next week as they walked their rounds, both jumpier than usual. "I hate not feeling safe. It's not a good feeling, you know."

"I don't know how you feel, because I'm not in your shoes." Percy shrugged, helpless. "Nevertheless, I do empathise." Mum had written, telling him not to worry, and the headmaster had reassured them all several times that everything was perfectly under control. Things didn't feel under control, but Percy didn't think he could do anything about that.

"Thanks, Percy."

They found a third year Hufflepuff, then, caught fetching cocoa from the kitchens. "Detention, Mister Summers," Percy said. "You should be careful. Think of your parents, getting the news that you're lying in the Hospital wing. You'd have to repeat the school year, too. Picture it, Summers for once in your life, imagine the consequences."

"You shouldn't be so harsh to them," Penelope said once they'd brought Summers and his half-spilled cocoa back to his dormitory. "They're just children."

Percy had never had the luxury of just being a child. He let out a big breath, deflating like a muggle balloon. "Sorry," he said. "I suppose I don't enjoy feeling so useless. We can wait around for the headmaster to save us, wait around for the mandrakes to mature, wait around for some miracle to fix everything."

"Well, that's rubbish. Let's try to solve the mystery for ourselves, at least. Maybe we'll find something useful we can turn over to the professors."

"Hmm." Their steps had led them, without their conscious thought, to the wall on the second floor with the letters still painted on it blood red. The more Percy thought about it, the better he could picture it. There'd be a plaque with his name on it in the trophy room for all to see. 

Percy Ignatius Weasley, Hero of Hogwarts

It had a nice ring to it. An award for special services to the school would most definitely look good on his CV. All the jobs in the world would be open to him, and it'd be on his own merit rather than a result of stories woven for Mister Diggory, for Professor Lockhart, or for Roy Edgecombe about how great Percy was, if only they'd give him a chance.

And there'd be Penelope, no longer worried that she didn't feel safe in Hogwarts' walls. "Alright," he said, steering them towards the library. "It's only sensible, really. Finding the monster and researching its weaknesses, proving the identity of the heir, it'd be the responsible thing to do."

They stood before Madam Pince's realm, the shelves looming in the darkness. "Maybe we could start tomorrow?" Penelope asked. "We can't all be Gryffindors."

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. Percy liked that about her, the way she wasn't afraid to say the truth, and how she could say 'No' when there was something she didn't want to do. It was an admirable quality to have. Also, she had an admirable smile that made her face look soft and lovely. "Tomorrow," he confirmed with a nod. "All mysteries are more surmountable in the daytime anyway."

.oOo.

"You and I have very different ideas about what it means to disgrace the name of wizards," Dad had said to Mister Malfoy that summer.

Percy sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, watching Harry sign himself up to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holiday, and sighed.

Dad had sent a letter already, explaining that he'd managed to get time off work, so they'd be visiting Charlie for Christmas. Percy wondered if 'time off' actually meant 'my superiors are reviewing if they should fire me.' On the bright side, five Weasley children would be getting all their meals paid for by the Hogwarts fund over the break.

Mum had sent a letter too, explaining that Percy was a good son, and was to make sure that his siblings all had a lovely time at Hogwarts. She'd thrown in phrases such as 'trust Dumbledore' and 'work hard' , like blueberries in pancake batter. Except instead of making everything better, they were tart and had turned the pancakes a sickly green.

Draco Malfoy would surely be spending Christmas at home with his parents, celebrating the time together. The Weasleys, where Dad was always talking about how important family was, were spending Christmas apart. Percy couldn't put his finger on whether that made them a disgrace, or just a disappointment.

He kept thinking of Bill, the eldest son who had done everything right, and still got told off for growing his hair too long, and wearing earrings. Charlie, who had always been better with animals and terribly awkward with people, being criticised with every other breath for daring to follow his heart to the Romanian dragon sanctuary. 

Ginny, who was always their 'little girl' whether she wanted to be or not. Ron, forever the baby, Fred and George, the reincarnations of Fabian and Gideon with no room to be anyone but two halves of a twin set. And Percy, relegated to being the 'good son' who would do everything he could to keep this family functioning.

They'd never thank him for it, not even when he was the one buying new boots or casting Gemini on their defence textbooks. It didn't matter if they thanked him, he had to remind himself. Percy was going to do whatever he could to make his siblings have a lovely Christmas at Hogwarts. Putting the existential terror and fear of petrification aside, it might even be nice to all be together without Mum driving herself up the wall with worry over making sure everything was 'perfect.'

Percy stood and went to write his family's names onto Professor McGonagal's list. Then, he went to the library to meet with Penelope.

.oOo.

"I think it's a snake," she said. "Slytherin's monster must be a snake whose venom can petrify people, and whose lifespan is over a thousand years. There can't be too many of those."

Percy eyed the stack of textbooks she'd pulled from the Magical Creatures shelves. "With stasis spells, the natural lifespan might be much shorter. Slytherin's monster has likely been in some kind of hibernation. Or it's successive generations of the same beast. I do agree we're likely looking for a serpent, though."

All the books Penelope had picked out were about reptiles. It was a very large stack.

"Alright," she said, opening the first. "We make a note every time we find mentions of petrification or anything else suspicious. Yeah?"

Percy nodded, taking a seat at her side. "Also paralysis, stupefaction, anything relating to the mythology of Medusa…that's all I've got for now."

Penelope smiled at him. "I like how thorough you are. You're always so conscientious about what you do."

He looked at her lips. Oliver said that he knew he fancied someone because he was always thinking about their arse and their lips. Penelope's lips seemed perfectly normal—pretty perhaps—but did not bring up any particular urges. 

Percy frowned. He looked down at his book, then back at her. She was still watching him in return. "You're very pretty," Percy explained. "My roommates said I should be feeling things."

"Are you feeling anything?"

"I'm somewhat hungry."

She laughed, then glanced around to see if Madam Pince had noticed them. "Anything else?"

"You're very admirable." Her work ethic, but also her face. She had very symmetrical cheekbones and looked gentle in a way that Percy wanted to reach out and touch. "I wonder, sometimes, what it'd be like to look in the mirror and see your face." Then, he could touch those cheeks however much he liked. He'd look down and see a body that was soft and curvy rather than his own lanky limbs and jutting ribs.

Penelope nodded, slowly. "I think that's not quite what Oliver and the rest are talking about. But that's alright, I like being best friends, don't fix what isn't broken and all that. Just, would you mind if I asked you something? Like, something personal?"

"You can ask."

"Have you ever thought about what you'd look like with long hair?"

Mum was always telling Bill off for his hair. Percy had had a phase of accidental magic when he'd been little, where his hair would grow back overnight every time mum cut it for him. She'd given up eventually, but after a few months Percy's curls had matted together and then was alright with letting itself get trimmed short after all. It had been a relief, but it had been sad to see half a year's growth getting swept up and thrown out like rubbish. "Mum wouldn't approve," he told her.

"Your mum isn't here. You're not seeing her until June. What do you want, Percy?"

He looked at his hands, but they didn't have anything helpful to say. For some reason, he felt a lump in his throat, almost like he might cry. But that was nonsense, because boys didn't cry, and besides he hadn't done anything so childish since he was eight. "I think," Percy said, blinking down at the book he was still holding, "that we should be researching snakes."

Penelope touched his shoulder, then turned back to her own book. "Yeah, alright," she said.

Then, they got to work.

.oOo.

A duelling club. 

Percy was an alright dueller. Oliver was great at defence, and often dragged Percy into empty classrooms to practise. If Professor Lockhart needed assistance managing however many students would show up, this would be an excellent opportunity for Percy to shine.

Even if Lockhart wasn't much of a professor, he had connections everywhere and could probably put in a good word for Percy at the Ministry.

Then, it turned out everyone wanted to go to the duelling club, so Percy volunteered to do hall patrols instead. With a monster on the prowl, the headmaster had assigned extra rounds on the weekends, too. 

Worthington spent the whole hour complaining about how Professor Snape was in a foul mood because someone had stolen potions ingredients from him, not letting Percy get a word in edgewise. When Penelope came rushing up to them after the duelling club was over, he was relieved to leave Worthington in the dungeons.

Then, Percy saw her face, and was already bracing himself for the bad news. Perhaps it was another student, petrified. Or a student had died this time, necessitating the closing of the school until the beast could be found? Mum and Dad couldn't afford to feed five more mouths, especially with how Ron was growing. They'd have to go asking the neighbours for handouts. Begging, hat in hand, a disgrace to the name of wizards.

"Harry Potter is a parselmouth ," Penelope hissed.

Percy needed to sit. He slid down the wall and let the cold stone hold him as he breathed. He wasn't even sure why he was feeling so worried, it was a perfectly ridiculous reaction. "I don't know if I'm relieved or horrified," he told his friend. She'd sat on the floor beside him, her face the picture of concern. 

"No, you don't understand, he speaks Parseltongue. The language of snakes!"

"That is the definition of a parselmouth, yes."

"And Slytherin's monster is probably a snake. That's how he's controlling it. Or if Harry isn't the heir, then the real heir must be a parselmouth too."

Percy had been avoiding the thought of Harry being the heir, because that meant his brother was sharing his dorm with a potential murderer. Even if it was just petrification now, it was only a matter of time before the snake was commanded to commit something more…deadly.

Slowly, he nodded, then let Penelope pull him to his feet. "We don't need to find a way to vanquish a snake, just a way to tell it to stop paralysing people with its venom."

Penelope giggled. "We could have Harry say it into a tape recorder. 'Don't bite people. Biting humans is bad .'"

Together, they made their way towards the library. While Penelope went back to The Ultimate Almanac of Ophidians , Percy perused the section on languages, picking a few out at random. Harry couldn't be trusted to control the serpent, even if he wasn't the Heir, but most languages were learned rather than inherited. He thought, maybe a look at why Parseltongue worked the way it did would get them further.

.oOo.

Chapter Text

"I really don't think I can help you," Cedric said. He had the decency to look sorry about it, but that didn't make Percy feel any less crushed.

"Your dad's an influential man in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I was hoping—"

"That's not how the Ministry works, Percy." Cedric shrugged, then began walking again so that Percy had to catch up. "Prospectives apply through the hiring committees or are nominated directly by department heads. My dad doesn't even have that power, so the best he could do is talk to other people on your behalf."

"Alright, so have him do that." Percy swallowed. "Please. I need an internship this summer and a job once I'm out of Hogwarts, and I don't know where else to turn."

"See, that's your first mistake. You're not allowed to show that you're desperate."

Percy pretended to smile at him. Cedric had two parents that each earned enough to support the three of them. Percy had his entire family to support, which was a lot of food, books, robes, and ideally four more chickens and a new owl. Of course Percy was desperate.

"Second," Cedric said, smiling warmly back, "You can't just get a job in a department, you have to work your way up the Ministry ladder. When a position is free, the heads usually look around at who's available and go with the best fit. You need to get in there first."

"I see." Percy wished Cedric could draw him a diagram. He also wished his own father had taught him these things, instead of Percy being blind-sided like this while trying to follow Professor McGonagall's advice. "Can your dad help me get one of those jobs then? I'll be seventeen next summer, and I can apparate. Not to mention twelve OWLs, soon to be twelve NEWTs."

"You're mad." Cedric shook his head. "I have no idea how you do it. I have a time turner just for Arithmancy and it's exhausting. The Ministry charm means I can only use it for four hours a week, as if I can do an entire class' worth of stuff in four hours. My mum really wanted me to do Runes and Arithmancy, but once I've got the OWL there's no way I'm going to do both NEWTs."

Percy nodded, still smiling without feeling it. Twelve NEWTs wasn't a choice for him, like it hadn't been a choice for Bill either. If they wanted to make something of themselves, and keep the scholarship that had paid for their wands, they had to keep up with the very best.

He still had hopes for Ginny this year. If her marks were good enough, she could apply to Professor Dumbledore for the stipend. Twenty extra galleons a year would pay for a lot of school supplies. He'd found her studying in her dorm room often, but she'd skipped Professor Lockhart's duelling club. It wasn't quite in line with the Ginny Percy remembered, but Percy didn't know much about being a twelve year old girl.

Cedric bumped Percy's shoulder. "Anyway, it should be fun, having the castle almost to yourself over Christmas. I bet you'll spend it hogging the best seats by the fires. Or, knowing you, it'll be the best seats in the library. I'm almost jealous."

"Almost," Percy echoed. He reminded himself that Cedric was his friend who was just a bit out of touch at times. "But, you'll talk to your father for me? I just need someone to give me a chance. I promise he won't regret it."

"You work so hard, Percy, you're practically a Hufflepuff. I'll see what I can do."

They parted ways then, by the doors of the Great Hall. Percy watched Cedric walk away, wondering how his friend would react if he knew the hat had offered him Slytherin, too.

.oOo.

"Listen to this," Percy said, his voice hushed in the sanctity of Madam Pince's domain. " Despite the intuitive knowledge that languages are learned, some magical languages defy this. For example, Parseltongue is passed along via genetics as an epistatic trait (rather than the often assumed autosomal dominance). The consensus remains inconclusive over whether the innate fluency is conveyed over blood, soul, or magic. Parselmouth toddlers have been shown to speak Parseltongue only at equal fluency as their main language."

"Huh." Penelope looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "Sorry, I don't get it."

"Parseltongue gets passed down through families without being taught because it isn't a proper language! Picture it as the magical version of reading and writing english with cyrilic letters."

"Oh my god." Penelope winced, then said it again in a whisper. "Oh my god, you mean we just need a translation spell like people would use for Mermish, then literally anyone could tell Slytherin's beast to piss off and go back to sleep?"

"Exactly."

Penelope looked back at her stack of texts. "I've been combing through snakes for a month now and all I'm getting is partial hits. I feel like when I find it, I'll go 'this is the one,' you know?"

"I've been sitting right next to you for most of this process. I'm not daft."

"No, I mean—" she wrapped a curl around her finger, tugging, "All I've been doing has been getting us nowhere, and here you go finding the answer already."

"We still need a translation spell that'll work. Nothing in the linguistics section has anything like it, just the standard 'drink wit-sharpening potions and study hard.' "

Penelope clapped him on the shoulder. "There must be something. Magic can do anything except create something real from nothing, make someone fall in love, and resurrect the dead."

"Don't forget about gold. You can't transfigure real gold." Otherwise, they wouldn't be poor.

"The Flamels can. It's just really, really hard."

Percy's gaze found the restricted section. 

A quick glance at Penelope showed her thoughts had gone there too. "I'll con Lockhart into getting us a pass," she said. "Maybe there are some better snake books in there, besides."

"Alright." Percy felt his jaw had tightened with disquiet. "Let's do that. But wait for me to leave after class before you ask him, because otherwise I'd be obligated to report you for…blackmail?"

"I'm not going to blackmail him. Jesus, what do you think of me Percy?"

"How am I supposed to know how you're going to manipulate our professor into giving you a pass?"

Penelope rolled her eyes. "I'm not telling you. Plausible deniability and all that. Now, can we stop for today? I booked the prefect's bathroom and want you to help me do my nails."

Percy's stomach jolted oddly. "I know nothing about nail polish."

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll teach you. It's just really hard for me to do my own left hand. If you've got decent hand-eye coordination, you'll do great."

There was most likely a school rule against prefects sequestering themselves away together in the bathroom. But Percy couldn't think of which rule exactly that was, and decided not to look it up. "It does sound like fun," he said instead, and indeed he was feeling almost excited at the prospect. "I'd be happy to help." 

"I'm sure you are." She squeezed his shoulder. "Let's clear all these books away and get started."

.oOo.

Dear Dad, Percy wrote in his diary, Like I always said, Harry is trouble. Professor McGonagal and Headmaster Dumbledore are very insistent that he's not the heir and he hasn't been the one petrifying the students, but the evidence against him keeps growing.

The list of bodies in the hospital wing keeps growing. Justin Finch-Fletchley and our very own Sir Nicholas. I remember you used to tell us ghost stories at bedtime. Bill would pretend to be too old, but he always listened anyway. 

I wish you'd bother writing letters, not just signing mum's. I miss when we used to spend time together, and I wish you'd spent your time with me preparing me for the outside world. There's so much I don't know.

I don't understand why Mum says to always trust Professor Dumbledore. I don't understand why nobody is doing anything against Harry. I don't understand why, out of seven children, I had to grow up to be the responsible one.

My life could have been so much easier, but it isn't. This is the son you raised me to be. I hope you're proud.

Percy didn't sign his name, because he knew he'd never send any of these letters. But for now, they helped him feel less alone.

.oOo.

As he'd been told to, Percy made sure his family had a wonderful Christmas holiday. He sent letters to mum that said all the things she wanted to hear. He mostly stayed out of Fred and George's way, pretending not to notice when they snuck off and brewed in their hidden room behind the mirror on the fourth floor.

He tried to give Ron and his friends the same leeway, and they repaid him by transfiguring Hermione into a furry half-cat. Professor McGonagall's disappointed look stung worst of all, because this was meant to be Percy's holiday too and instead they were all expecting him to mind the children. When he wrote his next letter to Mum, Percy left out how Ron and Harry were too busy visiting their friend in the hospital wing to get into any more trouble.

Instead, he told her how diligently Ginny was studying, how the twins still had all their eyebrows, and how he was doing a special research project in the library most days.

He found the answer in a book he'd picked up just because it seemed interesting, not because it had anything to do with languages. Giants, Merpeople, Werewolves and More: a Tale of Kinship was very dusty and seemed more like one of Professor Lockhart's stories at first glance. 

Then Percy flicked through, saw some of the drawings, and immediately slammed it shut again. He looked around, checked that nobody else was in the library, and took another peek.

Putting back the rest of his research for the day, Percy sequestered himself in an out-of-the-way armchair and started to read about the hero's adventures seducing various Magical Beings of all shapes and sizes. He skipped lunch and was about to leave for dinner—with perhaps a quick stop in the nearest bathroom first—when he found the answer he'd been looking for.

'One might ask, how does one speak with Creatures such as these? And in my wanderings, I have found that where there is a spark of intelligence, a common language can be found. The common advise of learning to speak in foreign tongues via laborious practise is an encumbrance when one wishes for a short liaison, a mere trist before we'll be on our merry ways the next day, so I present to you a spell, nay, a ritual that will let you learn any language overnight.'

Percy jolted so hard he almost dropped the book. He caught it just in time, took another look around to see nobody was watching him, and read through the ritual. It wasn't even that complex, just a bit confusing on some details. There was the requirement of a kiss to "initiate the exchange of tongues," but the French kissed each other on the cheek all the time so surely that was just a British thing that he could get over. And then a ritual circle, "wherein both parties should lay together."  

Besides the rather lewd content of the rest of the book, the magical aspect of it was very sensible. Percy returned it to its shelf in the restricted section, took a deep breath, and went to the prefect's bath to calm down for a bit. Then, still flushed and hair damp from the heat, he went to find Professor McGonagall.

.oOo.

"Penelope and I have been researching Slytherin's beast," he began. "We believe it to be a serpent."

She looked harried, rifling through the papers in her desk drawer. Nevertheless, she had a small smile for him when she looked up. "Mister Weasley, admirable as your efforts may be, the headmaster has the situation well in hand."

"No, I mean, I found a spell that will let you learn—"

"Mister Weasley," Professor McGonagall put down her parchment, "I appreciate your attempt, but this situation is for the staff to solve, not the prefects."

He ducked his head, hating how his ears were burning. "Yes, Professor. I just wanted to help, and I found—"

"Madam Pince told me what book you checked out of the restricted section, Mister Weasley. Are you certain you wish to proceed with this line of conversation?"

Mutely, he shook his head no. You don't understand , he wanted to protest, but he could tell she wasn't going to listen. Professor Dumbledore would be even more busy, and Percy didn't think any of the other teachers would be suitable for ritual magics.

"Excuse me, Professor," Percy said, backing towards the door. "Good day."

He closed the door before she could answer and ran to the nearest bathroom to take deep breaths until he felt better.

.oOo.

Dear Mr. Crouch,

I am writing to you in the hopes that, as an expert in linguistics and relations between magical beings, you are specially qualified to assist Hogwarts in a matter of grave importance.

My name is Percival Weasley, child of Arthur Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, and Molly Prewett. I am prefect in my sixth year at Hogwarts, on the way to graduating with all twelve NEWTs in 1994.

There has been a situation at Hogwarts concerning the Chamber of Secrets being opened. Slytherin's monster has already petrified two students and one ghost. Together with my friend Penelope Clearwater, I have deduced that the monster is a serpent, meaning that a parselmouth could communicate with it.

My research has identified a spell with which it is possible to learn Parseltongue overnight. I have provided a copy of the relevant pages. As an expert in language acquisition and negotiation, I believe you are the ideal candidate to save Hogwarts from a most dire fate.

Faithfully yours,

Percival Ignatius Weasley

Chewing on his bottom lip, Percy reread the letter one final time before sealing it into an envelope. "This is important," he told Hermes, stroking between his eyes. "For Bartemieus Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. You'll find him at the Ministry."

Hermes ducked his head once and gave a playful nip at Percy's finger before launching himself out of the owlery window.

Still not sure if he'd made the right choice, or if Mister Crouch would even read his letter, Percy pulled his threadbare cloak tighter around himself and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

.oOo.

Chapter Text

"You did what? "

"Hey, careful!" Percy groaned, setting the brush back into the nail polish. "Here, I can fix it. Just stay still this time."

"No, no." Penelope pulled her hands away. "You were telling me how you found a porn spell and sent a copy to the man who was almost the Minister of Magic."

"It wasn't a—" Percy swallowed, ignoring the way his face was turning bright red, "— porn spell." He cleared his throat and grabbed for the nail polish remover. "It was a ritual designed to exchange languages between two consenting parties."

"Percy, you just read it out to me. Even if it isn't a porn spell, it's the porniest spell I've ever heard of. You can't tell important politicians that you want them to lie back and 'exchange tongues' with a Naga while thinking of England."

"I don't see what's wrong with that. It's a perfectly legitimate bit of magic. The only unfortunate part was that I found it in a book with such…questionable content."

"And I'm going to be a good friend here and not even ask why you were reading it. Then, I'm going to be an even better friend and teach you how to read between the lines of interpreting innuendo, because boy do you need to learn." She shook her head, then let Percy get back to work on her fingernails. "Seriously, I thought the boys' dorms would be full of this kind of talk. What are you even doing in there?"

"Mostly, Oliver goes on and on about Quidditch."

Penelope nodded. "Fascinating. We mostly do each other's nails and talk about whatever books we're reading. Dunno, I guess I just assumed you'd be living up to the stereotype, with dirty clothes everywhere and an overall smell of socks and sweat."

"It's a dorm, not the Quidditch locker room." He smiled at her. "Here, I'm finished. Don't smudge it this time."

"I could do your nails now, if you want."

Percy looked at the row of shiny little bottles. They had lovely muggle names like Mermaid Fantasy, Marshmallow Dream, or Berrylicious . If the mermaid in the portrait knew what colour she'd been assigned, she'd be exceptionally offended.

"It's not allowed according to the school uniform code," he said.

Penelope just rolled her eyes. "That's what we have the spell for. You could charm it so nobody else can see."

There really didn't seem to be any harm in it. Either the fumes were getting to his head, or Percy was going a bit mad, but the thought of seeing his fingernails sparkle and glitter was slowly filling him with a bubbling delight.

"I don't think it's a thing boys are supposed to do."

"I really don't care about discriminating between boy things and girl things." Penelope pointed at Berrylicious . It would clash horribly with his hair and the Gryffindor trim on his uniform. "This one?"

"I suppose," Percy said, holding out his hand and feeling his face flush as he broke into a grin.

The whole next day, he was distracted at least once every class by the shimmering colour that shouldn't belong there, not really. 

The whole next week, he kept catching himself staring down and wondering how it could feel so right.

.oOo.

"Dad said it's a big risk," Cedric said, trotting beside Percy as they patrolled the second floor. "I know Arthur's a good man, but he's been getting himself into all sorts of trouble these past years. It's hard when you say 'Weasley' and people immediately think 'the man whose son drove his illegal enchanted car to school and kept both teams of Obliviators busy for a fortnight.'"

Percy winced. "I know that."

"Yeah, 'course you do. So, Dad was saying he's going to put your name forward, because he knows you're the right sort, but it's a big risk. You'll owe him a favour or three."

"Oh Merlin, really?" Percy stopped, holding his palm flat against the wall until it stopped spinning. Percy knew the wall wasn't spinning. He huffed out a breath, reminding himself to get a grip. "Tell him I say thank you. Actually, I'll write him a letter myself. Whatever favours he wants from me, I'll do it."

Cedric nodded, looking at Percy out of the corner of his eye. "Don't sound too grateful, he'll take advantage. But don't tell him I said that, obviously."

They kept walking, though Percy felt like he was floating. Cedric described it as if it were a little thing, but a paying Ministry position, even if it was 'just' filing for Amos' department, was a step towards independence for Percy. And, it would mean he could buy Ron a new wand next year.

Not that Ron would even be grateful, but that hardly mattered. Ron was the youngest son, he couldn't understand the sacrifices that Percy was making for the sake of their family. 

"Ugh," Cedric said, stopping in his tracks. "Myrtle's flooded her bathroom again."

Percy looked down at the thin sheen of water splashing underfoot. He pictured running all the way to McGonagall's office, only for her to tell him she was busy and he'd misunderstood the situation. "I've been meaning to practise my drying charms," he said. "Let's take care of this ourselves."

"What was it again, Ventus ?"

" Dessicare ," Percy said, exaggerating the wand movement. By the end of their patrol, they'd both be experts at it.

.oOo.

Dear Mister Percival I. Weasley,

I am honoured that your thoughts turned to me in your time of need. I have taken great pride in growing my reputation as a man who answers his mail personally, and thus I am writing to you now with news that I suspect will not be to your liking.

Unfortunately, I am not able to aid you in your endeavour. Parseltongue is not one of the hundred and fourteen languages I speak. It has a reputation of being associated with Dark wizards. With your standing as a member of a Light family, I am giving you the benefit of the doubt that you were not aware of what you were requesting of me. Even if it were possible to learn a hereditary language, I shall not tarnish my own name with the blemish of becoming a Parselmouth. I implore you not to make this request of anyone else, as it might come across as deeply disrespectful to one not aware of your youthful naivité.

Regarding your ritual, I suspect it is not of a rigorous academic nature and therefore not appropriate for use, nor further study. You did not mention the title of the book your excerpt was from. To indulge an old man's curiosity, perhaps you would share it with me? You strike me as a very well-read and studious young gentleman.

It is good to hear that the next generation of wizards is taking their studies seriously. Twelve NEWTs will give you a solid foundation for success in any career you choose. Have you thought much about your aspirations?

Sincerely,

Bartemius Crouch
Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation

Percy wasn't sure how he felt about Mr. Crouch's reply. Especially the part about the next generation of wizards sat oddly in his stomach, because as far as he knew witches had just as much of a role to play in shaping the future.

All the same, Mister Crouch had asked him questions in return. Which meant, he expected Percy to owl back. This time, though, he'd have Penelope read through his letter before he sent it.

.oOo.

"I am very sure we're not supposed to be doing this," Percy said, watching Penelope fill the pool-sized bath with scents and water.

"Part of being teen-aged is that our brains are still forming. We're hard-wired to spend these years doing stupid things."

"I'm sure that applies to other students," such as Fred and George, "but we're prefects."

"Yes, Perce, that's why we get to do this in the prefects' bathroom. Isn't that neat."

She was taking her clothes off now. Percy didn't know if he was supposed to look away or not. Once she'd stepped out of her underwear, she let her hair escape its ponytail like a mane around her head.

"Well?"

Percy could feel his face burning. He looked down at the steam rising from the water and heard her casting the shower cap charm, followed by a splash. Oliver would know what to do. Oliver had been in the prefects' bathroom with a half-dozen other students, girls and boys both. "I don't want to…you know…with you," he told the polished toes of his shoes.

"We can take a bath together as friends, Percy. You can help me wash my hair, and if you want, I can help you wash yours."

"I usually just rinse it off," Percy said. Nonetheless, he turned away from her and started taking off his clothes, folding them neatly into a stack by his shoes. "I don't think it's long enough to need help washing."

"I have a hair growing potion, if you want to try."

Percy turned and looked at her, forgetting entirely that he was naked. His hair had reached halfway to his shoulders once, and he'd loved the way it surrounded his face like a curtain. "Do you think that's alright?"

"Professor Snape has long hair. Nobody seems to mind, and you can always tie it back when it gets in the way."

Slowly, Percy sat and let his legs dangle down into the water. He wasn't sure what had gotten into him. When he looked down at himself he felt suddenly self-conscious, even though Penelope had been acting normal about their nakedness the whole time. His body was so much uglier than hers, too hard with sharp edges while Penelope's was elegant and soft. 

She swam up to the ladder next to him. He stared at her rear as she lifted herself out of the water and fetched a small vial from the pocket of her robes. Oliver would've had an erection by now, but for all that he thought her body was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, Percy didn't feel much like doing… that .

The potion was exactly the right shade of forest green. 

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Penelope shrugged and jumped back into the bath with a splash. "If you don't like it, we'll cut it again. Melanie taught me the charm."

"Alright, I guess." It smelled like honeysuckle and eye-of-newt. Percy held his nose, swallowed it down, and dove into the water feet-first.

.oOo.

Professor Lockhart hiring dwarves to deliver valentines for everyone was disrespectful and disturbing. They'd learnt about how important honour was to the Dwarven people in history class the year before, or perhaps only those students who'd managed to stay awake had learned that.

On the other hand, the Dwarves had agreed to do it, so either they were in desperate need of employment, or Professor Lockhart was paying them extremely well. When Percy considered how many galleons it'd take for him to wear a dress, carry a harp, and walk around all day delivering valentines, he realised that it likely hadn't even cost Professor Lockhart that much.

All it would take was enough to replace Ron's wand. Even if he was the one who teased Percy most over his now shoulder-length hair, it wouldn't do for his littlest brother to be academically disadvantaged. 

And maybe, if Percy bought him a new wand, Ron would listen about staying away from Harry Potter. The troublemaker had back-talked Percy in the middle of receiving his valentine, undermining Percy's authority. It had felt humiliating, and Percy knew his ears had been burning red under his curls. 

Percy knew they called him names behind his back—they called him names to his face too. But to snub him while he was trying to help was another thing entirely, and so Percy had written another letter home in the hopes Mum would finally see what a bad influence Harry was being.

The boy had even tried to lie about the mess in his dorm room, blaming a break-in instead of admitting he needed to take better care of his belongings. Muggles didn't understand tidiness, probably because they had robots at home that were always picking up after them. They didn't understand that House Elves were sentient beings deserving of respect.

Professor McGonagal didn't listen when Percy told her that Harry needed a talking-to, probably entirely preoccupied with the boy's chances of winning them the Quidditch cup. 

Percy wished sometimes that they'd cancel the Quidditch. It'd be better for everyone if the students could just focus on their academics. Hogwarts was a school, a place of learning, not a fairground for children to run amok in.

And then, they cancelled the Quidditch, and Percy realised that he should have been careful what he'd wished for.

.oOo.

Chapter Text

Petrified. 

He wanted to blame her, at first. The rules had been to stay in pairs, where they should have been safe. She had talked about being muggle-born, worried about being vulnerable in the halls, but they'd been in the library .

What was Hogwarts coming to if students weren't safe in the library?

Percy sat down, held Penelope's stony hand in his own, and cried.

.oOo.

"Here you go, dear." 

Percy looked up, wiping his tears on his sleeve. Madam Pomfrey conjured a chair beside him and handed over a stack of handkerchiefs. 

"There, there," she said once he'd blown his nose, then summoned them each a mug of tea. "Better out than in."

He didn't feel much better. His nose was blocked, so he couldn't even smell the tea. He sipped at it all the same, recognising the purple steam of the added Calming Draught.

"What happens now?" Percy asked.

"Now, two more students are petrified. I'm keeping them in beds, even though they probably can't feel it." She shrugged. "It seems more human. As for the rest, that's for Headmaster Dumbledore to decide."

Now that Harry Potter's friend had been petrified, too, they were probably going to eliminate him as a suspect. Percy couldn't help thinking that his target could have been Penelope while Hermione just got caught in the way. Despite all of Mum's letters, Percy didn't feel much like trusting Professor Dumbledore.

Percy looked at Penelope's face, the careful concentration hidden in the furrow of her brow, the gentleness clear in the soft curve of her face. "They were found in the library?" he asked. 

"Yes."

She was holding a pocket-mirror in her hand, the one she liked to use in class to spy on the others. Percy remembered all the times she'd elbowed him, giggling and asking if he too thought that Andrea looked like an angel.

"And nobody saw it? Andrea Lee wasn't there?"

Madam Pomfrey patted his shoulder. "Not that I'm aware of, dear."

Percy stood. Something wasn't right. The library had been their sanctuary, and the whole situation screamed wrong . "I'll go gather her things," he said, then left to investigate.

.oOo.

He felt numb looking at the scene. His limbs seemed heavier than usual as he moved towards the place where his best friend had almost died. He wanted to cry again, but he'd run out of tears in the hospital wing already.

Penelope's bag was lying on the floor where she usually sat. There was homework that must have been Hermione's abandoned on the table, across from the ever-present stack of books at Penelope's workplace. She'd been looking into mythology now that she'd run out of books on snakes. 

Percy paused just as he was putting away Creatures of Myth and Spirit . There was a page torn out. Penelope did that sometimes, revelling in the way magic let her spell books whole again afterwards, but the missing page was nowhere to be found. Petrification would be the least of Penelope's problems when Madam Pince discovered it.

Somehow, Percy held himself together as he packed away Penelope's book bag for her, then did the same for Hermione. He pretended to smile when Madam Pince came by to offer him an approving nod, while he felt only cold and empty.

The book, he took with him, wondering how much it would cost to owl-order a replacement. He wondered if Penelope would still remember where she'd put that page when she woke up, wondered what she'd do about her sixth year exams, wondered what that would mean for her future. A muggle-born witch didn't have many chances in magical Britain, not unless she was one of the brightest of her year with at least eight Os for her OWLs and NEWTs. Somehow, he doubted the Professors would care about the muggle-borns' plight. 

If Draco Malfoy had been petrified, mandrakes would have been brought over from Malaysia within the week. 

Percy was reminded of Dad's words to Mister Malfoy's. "You and I have very different ideas about what it means to disgrace the name of wizards." 

.oOo.

"Did you hear, they arrested Hagrid. Hagrid ."

Percy nodded, unable to muster the same level of outrage Melanie Turpin was feeling. He'd taken to carrying around Penelope's mirror in his pocket, popping it open and closed with a satisfying click-click .

"I know he's massive, but I always figured he was harmless," Turpin continued.

"I guess." Percy sighed. "I wonder why Professor Dumbledore kept him on staff if he knew Hagrid was responsible. Surely, someone must have noticed from last time around."

"That's muggle logic." Turpin grinned. "I've noticed most wixen don't think like that. You and Clearwater hang out so much, she's started rubbing off on you."

Percy srubbed at his face, then went back to keeping his eyes peeled for children out after curfew. With all the new restrictions in place, more students were acting out than ever. It was exhausting, and Percy wanted to shake Pucey when they caught him in the halls.

"Think very carefully if your midnight snack is worth dying for," Percy told the boy, turning to lead him back to Slytherin. 

But when he thought about it too hard, Percy wanted to take Albus P. Dumbledore and shake him instead, because Penelope had been following every single one of these new rules, and they hadn't helped her one whit.

"So," Turpin said, once their rounds were almost done, "Do you think things'll be better now, with Dumbledore gone?"

Percy didn't want to talk politics to a muggle-born who would never understand. The Ministry was a complex beast, the machinations of Lucius Malfoy were often nefarious, and the solution to any given situation was never black or white. "At least the Ministry has done something in reaction. That's more than the headmaster ever did."

Still the words felt heavy and false on his tongue. For all that Professor Dumbledore was incredibly flawed, he was also incredibly powerful, and they needed a powerful wizard to slay the powerful snake slithering around Hogwarts' halls.

.oOo.

"I've tried to make her comfortable," Madam Pomfrey said.

Percy stared at Penelope's stiff body posed in the bed like one of Ginny's dolls. "She doesn't look comfortable."

"There are spells on the blankets keeping them warm. I have a wireless set up so there's something for them to listen to at night. Professor Dumbledore said he suspects they aren't aware of their surroundings, but I'd rather they didn't feel too alone."

"You mean she can hear us?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

"What about the students who were petrified last time? Were they interviewed?"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I'm afraid I don't have access to those records, dear. But if it helps, I do think she'll feel less alone if you sit and talk to her for a bit."

Percy was left standing by the side of her crisp white bed, feeling terribly out of place. He wondered if they'd bothered to tell her family, or if Penelope's gran would just have to hope for the best when she stopped getting their weekly letters.

He collapsed into the chair by Penelope's side and took her hand. "I miss you," he said.

Predictably, she did not answer back. 

"I shouldn't be here. I should be studying for end-of-year exams. We don't have much time left." He ran his hand through his hair, his other hand grabbing the time-turner around his neck. "I'm already out of extra hours this week. One of me is talking to Professor Babbling right now about the homework, and then he's going to go talk to Professor McGonagal about increasing my alotted time turner hours.

"She's going to say no. 'Mister Weasley, you're a bright young man. You'll pass your exams just fine, and if not you'll know to drop those classes next year when preparing for your NEWTs.' She didn't even listen to me. She never does."

He understood why they didn't give all students more time on their time-turners, but quite frankly, Professor McGonagal's distrust was ridiculous. Hadn't he proven himself as an excellent student, again and again? 

Percy took Penelope's hand in his own, seeing his Berrylicious contrasted against her Marshmallow Dream . The nail polish on a few of her fingers was chipped.

"I'll fix this for you tomorrow," he said, squeezing her unyielding arm. 

Then, he got out his Runes textbook, conjured a table to spread his notes across, and started to work through his homework assignment.

.oOo.

"Melanie let me into your room to pack you a bag," Percy said, setting it down on bed. "Clean robes first." He pulled them out. It took two tries, then the switching spell worked perfectly. "And I promised I'd fix your nail polish."

He began the familiar ritual, crouching down and contorting himself around her fingers to properly reach them. In the wait between coats, he told her about his day, reading out his latest correspondence with Mister Crouch and asking her thoughts as he drafted his reply. "Mister Diggory has gotten me a summer job, but I think Mister Crouch is my best bet at getting hired once I finish Hogwarts," he explained, even though she knew that already. "He's a bit of a pompous prick at times, but if I get that job I'll have accomplished everything mum ever dreamed of for me."

Penelope, at this point, would have said something poignant about how the sum of his life couldn't be living up to his mother's aspirations for him. 

"You and your romanticised muggle ideals," Percy told her fondly. "I admire that about you, always have. Doing rounds with Turpin isn't the same, especially because I can't even patrol with Cedric anymore. We have to have one pure-blood prefect for every patrol route. It's made things terribly awkward."

Percy tucked a stray curl behind her petrified ear and smiled down at her. "Yeah, I miss you too. But we have exams to be studying for."

Conjuring his desk again, wordlessly this time, he got out his notes. "We've started doing human transfiguration, just simple things like eye and hair colour. The incantation is Transmutatis as usual, but you have to concentrate really hard. Here, I'll show you…"

.oOo.

Percy sat on the ledge of the empty tub, watching the Mermaid giggle at him.

Penelope had booked the prefects' bathroom for them every Tuesday after dinner, but he didn't feel much like bathing. Another version of him would normally use the time turner to be sitting up in the common room, providing a convenient alibi while he and Penelope spent two hours combing, washing, and plaiting each other's hair..

Percy took off his clothes, turning towards the mirror by the sinks. He stared at himself, wondered what it was Penelope saw in him when she said he was beautiful. He certainly didn't feel beautiful.

He took out his wand and pointed it at his hair. " Transmutatis ," he said, even though Professor McGonagal had said not to practise alone. Perhaps, she had been right not to trust him.

His hair turned straight and lanky like Bill's, suddenly stretching to halfway down his chest. He ran his fingers through, marvelling at how soft and sleek it felt. Penelope had curls even tighter than his, which was what made washing it such a hassle. She'd like this spell, even if Transmutatis always wore off after an hour.

He cast another Transmutatis on his ears and conjured earrings. They weren't supposed to transfigure flesh yet, that was for next year, but Percy just wanted to feel beautiful for once.

The golden hoops dangled, catching the light. He pointed his wand at his nose, transfiguring it cute like Penelope's, then transfigured his cheekbones.

A stranger looked back at him in the mirror. She looked a bit like him, a bit like his best friend, and entirely gorgeous. Percy touched his own face, grinning to himself, then laughed at the confused delight he saw in the stranger's expression.

"You're lovely," he told her, twiddling his wand in his hand. He cast the shaving charm on his legs, then turned his wand on his chest.

The word 'Transmutatis' died on his lips. "What are you doing?" the girl in the mirror asked, staring at him with hungry, pleading eyes.

"Professor McGonagal said we shouldn't," he said, watching the tears rolling down her cheeks. His chest felt empty, like his heart and stomach had been vanished entirely. "I can't do this. I'm sorry."

He turned away and drew a bath, letting the water come out so hot the air was thick with steam. He floated on his back, studying the fresco on the ceiling, and waited for the transfiguration to wear off.

His fingers traced over features that weren't his own, the face that belonged to the stranger in the mirror, and wondered why it was that she had looked and felt so much more like himself than he ever had before.

.oOo.

Chapter Text

Percy held Penelope's hand, putting the letter down on her blanket so it would stop shaking in his grasp.

"Dear Mister Percival I. Weasley," he read out to her,

"You have impressed me with your earnesty, your eloquence, and your accomplishments. I have decided to support you in your goals by offering you a coveted position of employment in my esteemed department, dependent on the following conditions:

First, you will obtain all twelve NEWTs of the grade EE or higher, proving your ability to work hard.
Second, you will distance yourself from your family's political reputation, so that you might begin to work under my wing as an independent character.
Third, you will give me the copy of Giants, Merpeople, Werewolves and More: a Tale of Kinship that you have from Hogwarts' library, along with all other copies you can locate in the school. You will not mention this to anyone, and you will never speak of the book or the ritual within it ever again. 

I am firmly convinced that this will create the foundation for our productive, mutually beneficial working relationship. I am looking forward to observing your work ethic at the Ministry this summer in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

If you are agreeable, send your owl. I shall reply with further instructions. You will be doing a good thing for the safety and well-being of all current and future Hogwarts students.

Yours sincerely,

Bartemius Crouch
Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation

"I did it," he smiled at her, though she said nothing in response. The elation was still trembling in his ribcage like a trapped bird. "I did it. It's all paid off."

She did not echo his relief. Percy gripped her hand harder, then pulled himself into a hug around her stony form. 

"I'm going to be okay."

He stepped out from behind the privacy charmed curtains to see Ron and Harry sitting on beds at the end of the hospital wing.

"I can't believe he said Follow the Spiders ," Ron was moaning while Madam Pomfrey shined her wand in his eyes.

"I'm so glad you were there with me, Ron," Harry said. He was watching Ron, sinking his delinquent claws ever deeper into Percy's brother's heart. "We're lucky your dad's car came to save us." 

If he truly were lucky, Ron would have found someone else to sit with on the train for his first year at Hogwarts.

With a silencing charm on his feet, Percy snuck out of the hospital wing, wondering how many letters it'd take before Mum would finally listen.

.oOo.

Percy stood in the prefects' bathroom and stared at the girl in the mirror. She didn't feel like a stranger anymore. She didn't feel like Percy , either, even if she felt more right than Percy's own face and body ever had.

"I should give you a name," he said to her. She smiled back at him, understanding in her eyes. They both knew that if he named her, that'd make her real, that'd mean a part of her would come with him back to the Burrow at the end of the school year. 

His heart clenched at the very thought of the twins finding out, let alone Mum. She'd have a fit, send Professor McGonagal a howler, and would then sit him down and cut his beautiful locks off.

"You look like a better version of myself," he told his reflection. 

Penelope would know what to name her. He'd taken his friend's bag to the bathroom with him, ostensibly for the nail polish, but her robes were in there too. They were second hand, like most of Penelope's things, with the label 'Lucinda Goldstein' crossed out on the hem. The House Elves had set the robes, neatly laundered, on her bag again. Percy both knew and did not know why he had taken them to this place with him.

Slowly, Percy pulled them over his head and did up the buttons. He held his breath as he looked in the mirror, and there she was.

A Hogwarts student, just like him. "I wish I could be you," he whispered, then took off the robes again, turned his back on the mirror, and went to the bath to wait for his transfiguration spells to wear off.

.oOo.

Outside the Hospital Wing, the sun had come out for a truly wonderful Scottish day, heralding the beginning of summer.

Inside the Hospital Wing, Percy listened to the sounds of children playing through the open window. He set aside his exam revision for the day. 

"I don't know what to do," he told Penelope, leafing through the appendix of Creatures of Myth and Spirit . Any other student might have owl-ordered a new copy of the book, but Percy was a Weasley, and the Weasleys were poor. 

Instead, he was going through the back, looking for mentions of page 394. Percy had read many a boring text in his life, but reading appendices was a new low even for him.

Until he found it mentioned under K , as in King of Serpents , and then he knew.

The book slid out of his hands and clattered to the floor.

"Oh God ," Percy said. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "Of course. Of course . How were we so stupid ?"

She didn't answer, but she didn't need to. Basilisks were mythological creatures. They had been searching for a real, existing snake.

Hadn't someone mentioned the roosters all having been killed last October?

Slytherin's mythological beast surely wasn't actually vulnerable to roosters, but it had probably been a 'better safe than sorry' type precaution by Slytherin's heir. All the petrifications because the students had seen only a reflection of the beasts eyes. And spiders, hadn't Ron said something about following spiders?

Percy picked up the book, gave Penelope's cold hand a quick squeeze, and rushed off to find Professor McGonagal.

.oOo.

"Mister Weasley, I'm sure there's no need for you to be worried about your examinations."

"I'm not here about the exams, Professor."

She sighed, then glanced back down at the stack of essays she was grading. The past year serving as professor and headmistress both had deepened the lines on her face and made her hair greyer. 

"I wanted to show you this." He handed her Creatures of Myth and Spirit . 

"Mythology falls in the realm of our Divination instructor."

"No, here, look. This page is missing, and in the appendix we can see—"

"Mister Weasley." The look over her glasses had been quelling when Percy had been eleven, and it was quelling now. "Might I recommend, you only have one chance for your sixth year at Hogwarts. Go outside. Appreciate the weather. Despite the circumstances, you might focus on enjoying your second-to-last year."

Percy felt his face flush. He stood up, putting his palms on her table. "This is important . It's about the Chamber—"

A Patronus appeared in between them, a bright white phoenix that spoke with Professor Dumbledore's voice. "The worst has happened, as we feared. Call attendance. I am waiting in my office."

"Mister Weasley," Professor McGonagal said, her voice barely a whisper. "I am calling everyone to their dorms. You must find out if any of our own are missing. Go now."

There was nothing else to do. Percy went.

.oOo.

"Molly, I assure you, we are doing everything we can."

Percy stared at Professor Dumbledore, feeling too angry to speak. The man had done nothing. He hadn't solved the mystery of what kind of creature was in Slytherin's chamber, he hadn't researched how to learn Parseltongue, he hadn't even been at the school for the past months while everything went to shit.

"Thank you, Albus. We appreciate it," Dad said.

Percy laughed. Fred and George glared at him as Mum hugged them, but they were always glaring at him. That was his punishment for being the responsible one. 

Percy thought of the plaque they would have given him. Percival I. Weasley, Commemorated for Special Services to the School. He knew it was too late now. Nobody was ever going to commend him for anything.

"I wish Bill and Charlie were here." Mum sighed.

"It's a basilisk," Percy said. "Slytherin's monster is a basilisk. It's probably been moving through the school's pipes. But Harry's a parselmouth, so I guess there's nothing to worry about. Him and Ron and Ginny and Professor Lockhart will all be just fine."

"Oh, Percy," Mum said, her face muffled by her handkerchief. "You and your flights of fancy." She looked up at him, squinting for a moment. "What happened to your hair ?"

"Nothing." Percy stood up. "Excuse me. I have to go to the bathroom."

He went to the prefects' bathroom instead, forgoing the stalls to stare at himself in the mirror. He transfigured himself into the girl he thought of now as Lucy , an in-between name until Penelope could give her a proper one.

"I don't know what to do," he said.

In his reflection, Lucy smiled at him with a world of pain in her eyes, got out her wand, and started to cut off her own hair.

.oOo.

He found them on the way back, tumbling out of Myrtle's bathroom covered head to toe in grime, accompanied by the headmaster's phoenix.

Professor Albus P. Dumbledore would have taken them straight to his office, but Percy had different priorities. He grabbed Professor Lockhart's elbow and shepherded the rest towards the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey would look them over. 

As she examined Ginny, he wrapped Ron in a very tight hug. "I'm so glad you're alive," Percy murmured into his hair. "We could have lost you. Imagine what that'd do to mum if she lost you and Ginny both."

"Geroff me, Percy, I'm fine ."

Percy obligingly got off and went to hug Ginny, whose cheeks had already regained a bit of colour. "Mum will be here in a minute," he whispered into her ear. "You could pretend to be asleep, if you like."

He watched her close her eyes and slump back in bed just as Mum's voice approached along the corridor.

Percy did not want to listen to her picking on any of her children, comparing them all to one another like they were crows fighting for the crumbs of her affection. He ducked behind the charmed privacy curtain to Penelope's bed just as the hospital wing's doors burst open, and then the silencing charms kicked in. 

It was just him and Penelope again, as usual. His bags and books were stacked on her bedside table, from all the time he'd spent studying by her side.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered, unfolding Mister Crouch's latest letter and setting it on her lap. "How am I supposed to know if you're not around to tell me?"

The instructions were written out clearly, in Mister Crouch's neat cursive. 

"Winky?" Percy said.

The Elf appeared with a quiet Pop and a curtsy.

"I'm Percy Weasley, it's nice to meet you. Mister Crouch told me to give you this."

She nodded as she took Hogwarts' only copy of Giants, Merpeople, Werewolves and More: a Tale of Kinship from his hands. Percy had never stolen a library book before, but Mister Crouch was right. It was dangerous, borderline dark. The Ministry was right to be worried about the kinds of things Professor Dumbledore left lying around the school where anyone could find them.

Stealing a single book was an acceptable price to pay for a job as court scribe once he graduated, with a guaranteed place in Mister Crouch's department after that.

"Winky of the House of Crouch thanks you, young master Weasley," she said, and then she was gone.

.oOo.

Chapter Text

Percy found out from an indignant Cedric, who was marching through their rounds like an insulted hippogriff. "Two hundred points each to Gryffindor, and nobody will even say for what. It's ridiculous. It's disgusting."

Percy nodded. Winning the House Cup wasn't worth anything when the whole year's hard work got overthrown in June by Professor Dumbledore's arbitrary nonsense.

"We might as well do away with the points system altogether. Last year, I thought it was an exception, but nooo , this is Dumbledore's Golden Gryffindor ."

"I don't disagree," Percy said. He found that he wasn't surprised, though. House points and an award for special services would open doors for Ron in the future, but Professor Dumbledore could do real good right now by actually helping. Ron and Ginny needed to be put on the roster of the Hogwarts Scholarship Fund so they could have new wands, warm boots, and a whole set of school books each year.

"And what about us prefects?" Cedric continued. "Haven't we been performing special services to the school all year? So many extra patrols, at risk of our own lives, but we're not worth anything if our name isn't Harry Potter. "

"Excuse me," Percy said, once they'd finished their route and were about to head back to their respective dorms. "I think I'll go visit Penelope now, actually."

"You'll be breaking curfew," Cedric said, but he added a wink. "Tell your girlfriend I said hi."

"She's not my girlfriend," Percy called over his shoulder, even though Cedric wouldn't believe him.

.oOo.

"I really shouldn't be letting anyone take visitors right now," Madam Pomfrey said, eyeing Percy shrewdly. 

Percy almost lurched forward. They'd been stone cold statues for half the year, and nobody had ever worried about whether they should be visited or not. 

"You be quiet and don't worry her. And I'm leaving the curtains open, so no funny business."

There was no funny business. Penelope's hand was warm and her fingers were twitching, but the rest of her was just as much a statue as before.

He fell asleep sitting there by her bed with her hand in his, and woke to a crick in his neck and someone poking him in the arm.

"Hey, you," Penelope said, examining her fingernails while he stared hungrily at her face. "You did a great job with these."

Her skin was warm and soft to the touch. There was emotion in her face, a smile tinged with sadness tucked in the corners of her eyes. She was real, realer than he remembered her being. "You're alive," Percy said. He knew his voice sounded reverent.

Penelope reached out and wiped the tears from his eyes. "I'm alive. Thank you for never giving up on me. I heard you sometimes, talking to me. I don't know about the others, but I never felt alone."

"You found out about the basilisk," Percy said. "I took months to piece that together from the clues you left me."

Her smile was gentle. The last he'd seen that smile, it'd been staring back at him in the mirror from his own transfigured face. "You figured out about Lucy all by yourself. And Mister Crouch. Congratulations, Percy. I'm so proud of you."

She hugged him. Percy could feel the tears running down his face. He wondered why his first time hearing those words wasn't from Mum and Dad, when they were the ones he most needed to hear it from.

'Trust Headmaster Dumbledore,' Mum had written to him again and again, even when the man had been ousted by the board of governors.

'Look after your siblings,' she'd told him, despite none of them appreciating his intervention.

'Just like our Bill,' Mum had said when he'd made prefect, gotten twelve OWLs, been the responsible one . Because no matter what he did, she'd only ever see him as a facet of somebody else.

'You should let me take a pair of scissors to that hair, Bill. You're a disgrace to this family.'

'You and I have very different ideas about what it means to disgrace the name of wizards.'

"It wasn't enough," Percy said into the damp patch on Penelope's shoulder. "I should have made a difference, but all I could do was trust everyone else would figure things out."

"Hush." Penelope hugged him tighter, rocking back and forth. "Hush, now. You did the right thing. You're a really good person. I'm glad you're my friend."

He laughed at that. "If I were a good friend, I'd be comforting you."

He heard the smile in her voice as she answered. "If you were a good friend, you'd be helping me break out of this hospital bed. What I really need now is to feel human again. Should we go to the baths?"

'No funny business,' Madam Pomfrey had threatened.

'Part of being teen-aged is that we're hard-wired to spend these years doing stupid things.' Penelope had told him, half a lifetime ago.

"Alright," Percy said, looking over his shoulder to watch Madam Pomfrey disappear into her office. "Let's do this."

.oOo.

Even though it was only for a few weeks, Percy brewed himself another hair growth potion. For his class photo, he sported his usual horn-rimmed glasses and earnest expression, but with a riot of curls surrounding his face.

Mum would take the photo and frame it, putting it on the mantle next to all the others. Percy wasn't worried, though, because he knew that even if she looked at it she wouldn't see him there. She might search for Bill's face, or someone else's. They all knew that her moods were changeable, and she'd weigh any missteps against him so much more than his strengths. Fred and George were the clever ones, because they'd figured out from the start that if they were going to get in trouble, they might as well do it on their own terms.

At least the Ministry would be consistent, Percy promised himself. He'd know where he stood, when the pure-blood elite turned their noses because of his blood-traitor father. He'd know what the consequences were for illegally enchanting muggle cars, and what the rewards were if only he worked hard and kept his head down. If Mum wanted a good, normal son who worked at the Ministry and could carry the family when worst came to worst, that was the son Percy was going to be.

There was no space for Lucy in the Weasley family, with its six sons and seventh daughter. There was no room for Lucy in the Ministry, where Mister Crouch worried about the future generation of wizards.

But there was space for her in the bathroom, when the door was locked. There was space for her in letters that Percy could exchange with Penelope all summer, and beyond. 

When Percy packed his bags, he took the freshly laundered robes with Lucinda Goldstein crossed out and Penelope Clearwater neatly written underneath. He'd put them on one last time in the prefects' bathroom with Penelope, letting her help as Lucy cut her hair back down to a length that Mum would find sensible.

"This is who you are," Penelope had said, giving Percy-Lucy a hug. "Nobody can take that from you, even when you're out there pretending to be someone else."

"Thank you," Lucy had replied, voice thick with emotion, and vanished the last of her curls from where they'd fallen to the floor.

Mum picked them up from the train station, making excuses for Dad, who was too busy working to come along.

She told off Fred and George for nothing in particular, gave Harry Potter a hug and a kiss, held Ginny's hand as she walked them toward the fireplaces.

"Percy has a girlfriend now," Ginny said once they'd each paid two sickles to floo-travel home. They were all crowded in the kitchen, sorting their bags out of the way. "He even packed her robes by accident."

Mum finally looked at Percy, just in time to see his face flushing to surely match his short, ginger hair. "You never wrote to me about that."

Percy forced his expression into a smile. "Penelope is muggle-born. You won't have heard of her."

Mum nodded and turned away, telling Ron to go feed the chickens. Apparently, they'd gotten three new ones and turned the oldest into soup when she'd stopped laying. Mum hadn't mentioned that in her letters either, but Percy had long ago learned that she only ever wrote platitudes and complaints.

Later, once dinner was well on the way, Percy cornered Ginny on the way to the bathroom. "You're a traitor," Percy said.

"You're better off with Mum finding out now than later."

'I'm my own person, and I should get to share my news myself whenever I'm ready to,' Percy wanted to tell her, but Mum didn't allow shouting in her house. "We're not actually dating," he said instead.

"Sure." Ginny smirked, and was saved by Mum calling them all down to eat.

.oOo.

Working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures would have been boring, if Percy weren't the type to enjoy boring tasks like alphabetising and filing. It didn't pay well, but by September he'd be able to afford fitting robes, a warm cloak, and a full set of twelve NEWT-level school books.

Fred and George teased him, but Ron didn't, so with Percy's first paycheck he took him out to buy the boy a new wand.

When he counted out the change, Percy went into Flourish and Blotts, browsing the shelves for a treat, a book that he wanted, something that was just for himself.

He found it misshelved in the Runes section and immediately knew it was the right one.

101 Household Charms for Winsome Witches took an honorary position on Percy's nightstand, with him practising a few spells every night before bed.

The first charm that worked was one for doing his own laundry.

The end.