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Chapter Text

Egypt. June 28th 1991

“Listeners, here is a message from the Auror Office of the British Ministry of Magic! A young witch, Cassidy Mercury, has been missing for two weeks now. 

Cassidy is fair skinned, has golden blonde hair in a short hairstyle, green eyes. According to muggle witnesses, she was last seen in Westminster, London on the night of June 11th, at 23:43, and she was dressed in a pastel rainbow striped sweater, light-blue jeans, red sneakers and a dark blue denim jacket. 

If you have any information of her whereabouts, please contact either the Auror Office or Jacob and Sigourney Mercury. And now, the weather-”

Bill turned off the radio and sighed. He had been in Egypt for a month now, but he could never anticipate what would happen once he left the country for his internship. When he left, he was so sure that they were done with the dangerous adventures, Rakepick and the Cursed Vaults. The Vaults were sealed away, Rakepick was rotting in prison as she deserved and there were no more dangers at Hogwarts.

Why had Cassie disappeared, then?

She had suddenly vanished, just as quickly as she appeared in his life. 

Last seen in Westminster, London and late at night, nearly close to midnight. Why had she been there, barely a day after she graduated Hogwarts with no less than 12 NEWTs and a bright future ahead of her? What could possibly lead her to walking somewhere in London and then just…disappear?

That would explain the horrible feeling in his guts a couple of weeks ago. It was his instincts trying to warn him, but he had just assumed that he got an upset stomach from that lentil stew. Oh, how foolish he felt…

Cassie was so good as a younger sister for him. He had quickly gotten fond of that headstrong, clever girl. They had met officially when she was a second year, who was very sick of the rumours behind her back, and he had been an idealistic fourth year, seeking for the true adventure. 

Bill sighed as he stood outside, looking up at the dark night skies. There must be a thousand stars out here, more than he could ever see back home in the British Isles, and he remembered his time at Hogwarts fondly, even if it was a little over two years since he graduated. So much had changed in those seven years.

He thought about a friend who he probably would never see again. Just anything could’ve happened to poor Cassie, who had lived through so much trauma and pain. He wondered what has gotten to her in the end, when all kinds of monsters, murderers and cursed vaults had tried to get to her and never succeeded.

He had a terrible feeling that it was something she couldn’t handle alone and she had still attempted to do it, just because she didn’t want to involve anyone in her business anymore.

‘I never should’ve left.’ Bill thought and he was left alone with his regrets. For the next five years, he would live with his regrets and wonder what became of his dear friend. 

Romania. June 28th 1991

Charlie had made a big mistake and he knew it.

He shouldn’t have left her. He shouldn’t have abandoned her. But all that ran in his head was that she was the main target and if his little brothers got hurt because of that, he couldn’t live with himself. That was the only reason why he broke up with her.

Not because he didn’t love her. Oh no, Charlie still loved her with his whole heart to this day and probably forever. But in the choice between his little brother’s safety and his girlfriend…it was a sadistic choice, but he chose his family in the end. 

And now she was gone.

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make any sense!

She was right there, when they graduated! They had graduated together at Hogwarts and sailed across the lake to Hogsmeade Station. They had been in the same boat, looking back at the castle. Cassidy had been there, smiling and for a moment, Charlie thought about getting back together with her, now that the dangers were over and the Cursed Vaults were dealt with. But it never happened because he was a coward. He got second thoughts and decided to give her space, he had thought there was time to talk to her later.

When she came to Hogwarts, just like him, Cassidy had been perceived in a negative light because of something her brother did. But she had proved everyone wrong, protected the school every year and she had left the school with triumph and honour.

Then she was gone. Cassidy had gone missing in London, at night, of all places. The last ones to see her were a couple of muggles and then…nothing. It was as if she had vanished into thin air. 

Charlie still dreamt nightmares about her. He woke up in cold sweat and he could swear that he had heard her fearful screaming, being dragged away into darkness and her voice echoed in his head. Then he had to go outside and take a smoke to calm his nerves.

He had the same recurring nightmare. He would see Cassie in the darkness of some weird hellscape place. She was trying to climb out of some hole in the ground, only to be dragged away by something and her screams echoed in a distorted way.

As someone who prided himself on his optimism, Charlie couldn’t believe that she could possibly be alive anymore. No one had found her in the two weeks she had been gone and last he heard from Tonks, was the trail of Cassie had gone cold.

That was it. Cassidy Mercury was gone and if not even Madeye Moody,the best Auror in ages, could find her…then it really meant that he’ll never see her again.

And Charlie cried bitter tears, wallowing in self-hatred and blaming himself. He had let go of the only person in the world he ever loved more than dragons (and that said a lot). And he swore to never love anyone again. He’ll never date anyone again, he’ll never marry anyone and he’ll never love anyone else that wasn’t her. 

There was only one who had a hold on his heart and it was Cassidy Mercury.

Devon. June 28th 1991.

Percy lied awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling and nearly drowning in guilt. His hands grasped the edges of his covers anxiously. He felt physically ill to his stomach.

He covered his ears, trying to block out the sounds that haunted him. It was only in his head, but he suffered nightmares.

His fault…it was his fault, wasn’t it? His fault that Cassidy was gone.

She was gone beyond the Vault. The one that controlled all the others and now, she was gone in a horrible world that waited beyond it. 

“I’ll be fine, save yourself!” Cassie screamed and his hands were getting sweaty from playing a very serious tug war with the long, black wine around her ankle, coming from whatever horrible monster that kept growling in that horrifying, distorted way. 

“No!” Percy shouted back, tears running down his face. His arms ached and screamed in pain; he wasn’t as strong as his brothers. “I won’t leave you! What if you’ll die!”

“You have to trust me!” Cassidy shouted at him. “As long as you know the truth, you can bring me back! Only someone who had taken a step through the vault and survived, can do it! You’ve got my wand and my journal! Find me! I know you can!”

Percy shook his head. “No! I won’t let you go!”

Cassidy looked at him and smiled. “It’s up to you to bring me back. I’m counting on you, Perce. Promise me you will find me, no matter what.”

“I-I promise.” He hiccuped. 

And then he lost his grip, his palms had gone too sweaty and her hands slipped from his.He had screamed out for Cassie, who shrieked in fear as she was dragged through the vault…and then it closed shut before it went dark.

Percy fell onto his knees and he screamed in complete grief.

It was two weeks ago. He had barely remembered how he got home. All he did was pick up her wand and journal. Inside her journal was a beautiful necklace with a pendant of a burning phoenix in a heart. It had been a Portkey that took him back to the Burrow.

Cassidy…she had provided him with a quick return home. She must’ve known that this was going to end badly for her, so she had made a Portkey for him. The necklace was no longer a Portkey and he kept all it, as with all his secrets, under a loose wooden plank in his floor. In that hole, he kept her journal with all information about the Vaults and her wand. 

He was just fourteen years old, nearly fifteen.

Percy sat up in his bed and buried his face in his hands, his small shoulders nearly shook with grief. 

‘I promise to find you and I will bring you home.’ He thought to himself. ‘Whatever it takes.’

Family never gave up on each other. And Cassidy was always going to be a part of his family, no matter what.

Chapter Text

Percy was finally released on the morning of December 23rd. The healers deemed him as fully healed. But he was a little reluctant to leave his father alone in the ward. 

“Don’t worry for me.” His father simply smiled at him and patted his shoulder. “I’ll be fine. But I think your siblings are driving your poor mother crazy at this point.”

“And I need to figure out what to do to help my friends. At least those who are Muggles.” Percy remarked.

“About that…” His father said and he smiled sheepishly. “You don’t think they can stay with us for a couple of days? Since you and your friends lived through a terrible experience-”

Percy sighed. “You want to ask them about the rubber duck.” He smiled. He knew his father too well.

“That too.” 

So Percy was finally on his way back to Grimmauld Place, by foot. He exited the old, abandoned building (that was what Muggles were seeing, at least) and looked up at the grey skies. It was ridiculously cold, but there was no snow. Only light drizzle. 

He sighed sadly. He missed the snow so much. In Scotland, he had loved it when the entire landscape was buried in snow, deep enough to make dozens of snowballs. He had loved it less when Fred and George pelted him with snowballs. The whole lake had frozen over and the ice was sturdy enough to skate on it (except in the middle where the ice was at its weakest. 

Christmas at his childhood home also had snow. He had grown up by the rolling hills at Devon and he remembered fondly how the Burrow always looked like a strange, towering gingerbread house in the snowy landscape. He felt a little saddened that he won’t come home for Christmas, after all.

Besides, he wanted a walk by foot because he needed to gather his thoughts before he reunited with his assistants.

Two of his assistants were Squibs. Tim and Martin.

They must’ve known that he wasn’t a Muggle, but he wondered why they never said anything. And he needed to figure out who had saved him, back when he collapsed in the archives and woke up at St. Mungos. And he could exclude both Jon and Sasha, as they are Muggles and they wouldn’t have known anything about the magic world, even less about St. Mungos. But it was either Tim or Martin.

He was tired of all this secrecy.

Percy suddenly stopped by the window of a shop and he looked at the Christmas decorations. Hm…perhaps he should get something for his assistants. He didn’t have much time left, but he was certain there was something for all of them. He was aware that Jon didn’t celebrate at all and Martin was Jewish. But he figured that maybe they’d appreciate a gift from him; for putting up with him for six months.

He made up a list in his head, thinking about what each of his assistants would like for the holidays.

Sasha was a very practical person and she liked brain puzzles, but occasionally, she did like feminine things like clothes, shoes, accessories and perfume. Jon liked books, but he never read anything from the same author. He struck Percy as someone who liked simple comforts.

Martin was easier to please; he seemed to idealise rural life in the countryside and he had mentioned that he liked knitting.

Tim was…hard.

Not to mention that Percy tried to ignore that idiotic flutter his heart always made whenever he thought of Tim. He was just…everything. He was tall, muscular, charismatic, funny, nice and smart. And he was great at sports, especially kayaking. He could have anyone he wanted.

Not a socially awkward, red-haired wandering stick with too big glasses, like him. 

And he was moping again.

Percy shook his head, he needed to get his act together. His massive crush on Tim was getting out of hand, it distracted him and he couldn’t focus on anything else. ‘Pull yourself together, Percival Ignatius Weasley!’ He mentally scolded himself. 

Right now, he needed to focus on preventing Jon and Sasha from being obliviated.

It didn’t take long for him to arrive at the doorsteps of Grimmauld Place and he still remembered to not ring on the bell (he was not in the mood of the vulgar portrait of Mrs Black shouting again), so he simply tried the door and walked right in. He carefully closed the door behind him. 

“AH!”

Percy had just turned around and was met by the sight of Bill, standing there with crossed arms and a very irritated expression.

“I thought you were supposed to wait for me!” His older brother hissed at him. “I was going to pick you up.”

Percy scoffed. “I think I can walk back home without holding your hand, thank you very much.” He shot back and walked upstairs to his bedroom.

“That isn’t the point.” Bill retorted and followed him up. “Percy, you have just survived something weird and probably fatal. And Dad got attacked by a big, ugly snake! We could’ve lost you both!”

“Well, you didn’t.” Percy simply said. “Dad certainly believed that I could return home by myself. Besides, I was going stir-crazy there.”

Bill sighed. “Alright, I can let you off the hook for now. But we’re still going to talk about this later. In any event, what are you gonna do about the Muggles?”

“Jonathan Sims and Sasha James! Use their names.” Percy snapped. “And they are staying with us for now. Apparently there are some section in the Department of Mysteries about the supernatural, the kind I just survived, so I’m waiting for word from Tonks who’s currently investigating the matter.”

“Section 30?”

Percy stopped, they were by the second floor, and looked at him. “Yes…that was what I heard. Do you know about it?”

“You could say that.” Bill sighed and rubbed his neck. “The matter about the Cursed Vaults was handled by the Department of Mysteries, that’s why no word about it has gone out to the public. Besides, an old school friend works there.”

Percy reflected on his memories about the Cursed Vaults. “I see.” He said slowly. “Well, where are my assistants then?”

“Tim has gone to fetch his younger brother at King’s Cross with Sasha.” Bill explained. “Martin has left to fetch some things from his old flat, because Jenny has some kind of special bag she needs. Jenny is hanging out with Harry, the twins, Ron and Ginny. And Jon is being fussed over by Mum.”

Percy stared at his brother. “Oh dear god. Don’t tell me…she found out he’s an orphan?”

“She found out he’s an orphan.” Bill confirmed and smirked. “She’s going to be unbearable now.”

“Oh, goodness me…” Percy turned on his heels and walked quickly downstairs. “You couldn’t have started with that?! Now I have to do damage control, again!”

“What do you mean with “again”?!”

“You and Charlie took off as fast as you could before I turned fifteen!” Percy retorted. “Do you know what kind of living hell I got? I have to deal with the twins, Ron AND Ginny on a regular basis! I never had a calm moment, not even at Hogwarts. I needed to show them how to tie their uniform ties, make sure they got eight hours sleep, three meals per day, plan out their study schedules, not letting my stupid roommate overtrain them at Quidditch and stop them from fighting Slytherin bullies everyday. If anyone deserves a goddamn vacation, it’s me! ”

They had reached the bottom floor and Bill looked baffled at Percy. “I thought you said that you had everything under control. Percy, have you lied to me while you were close to a mental breakdown?”

“Not lied, per say.” Percy said awkwardly. “I just directed your attention to something else other than my wellbeing.”

“Exactly how long have you stressed out yourself like this?”

“Since always?” Percy chuckled weakly and saw how his joke fell flat. “Not funny?”

Bill shook his head. “Not even remotely. Perce, you aren’t immune to stress. You need to speak up!”

“And I can’t do that, there is too much to do and I can’t focus on two things at once!” Percy snapped.

“Me and Charlie exist to help you out, we’re literally just one word away from rushing in and handling the situation!”

“And I don’t want anyone to handle the situation for me!” Percy shouted back.

“FILTH!” screeched the portrait of Mrs Black. "HALF BREEDS, BLOOD TRAITORS-”

And Percy ran out of patience.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I SET YOU ON FIRE, YOU GODDAMN NASTY BITCH! I’M SO SICK OF YOUR BIG DISGUSTING MOUTH, SO SHUT UP! SHUT THE HELL UP!”

He breathed heavily as the portrait looked as if she would faint and he shut the curtains with force. Once he turned around, he saw his mother in the doorway from the kitchen and she looked absolutely flabbergasted, with Jon standing on his toes and peeking over her shoulder. Near the staircase stood the twins, Ron, Ginny and Harry; all of them looked baffled before his younger siblings began to applaud with huge grins.

“No, don’t applaud that!” Percy exclaimed.

“Congrats, Perce!” Fred grinned.

“He finally swears!” George agreed.

“We’re so proud of him…” Ginny said and wiped away a fake tear.

“Oh, bugger off.” Percy muttered irritatedly before he looked at his mother. “I am so terribly sorry about my obscene outburst” He said and felt how his cheeks burnt in embarrassment. “I lost my temper.”

Normally, his mother would scold him and warn him from doing it again. But she just shook her head instead and pulled him into an embrace. “Oh, I’ll let this slide for this one time, dear.” Percy was suddenly aware that he had barely even hugged his mother in a long time, not since he became a prefect. “You’ve been through a horrible thing. Come, you need a spot of tea.”

That was…odd.

Percy stopped following his mother for a moment and looked at Jon. “Are you doing okay?” He asked. He knew that Tim and Martin would be fine, but for Jon and Sasha…this was probably overwhelming. 

“Well…ah…I’m fine.” Jon said slowly. “It’s a little overwhelming.” He chuckled weakly. “Being terrorised and nearly killed by Prentiss and worms, plenty of almost mortal death, and then magic and wizards are real.”

Percy sat down by the long table. “So you…don’t mind?” He asked carefully.

Jon sat in his chair and his hands fidgeted in his lap. “Not really…” He said honestly. “I-I mean, all those monsters out there like Prentiss or Michael are far more dangerous than a wizard possibly could be. I-I mean, your family are all…uh, magic. And they seem very nice. Surely all wizards and witches can’t be that bad to someone normal, like me.”

Percy didn’t know what to say. He was really happy that Jon didn’t react in a medieval fashion regarding magic. But Jon was also wrong. Not every wizard or witch was good. Especially not that one.

“Jon. I…” Percy stopped himself, he was close to talk about Voldemort and the threat he posed for the magic world and the muggle world. In one way or another, they were going to get involved either way. “I wish I could tell you everything, but until Tonks gets back with the news I’m waiting for, I can’t.”

The shorter man nodded, sporting a grave expression. “I see.” It was silent for a moment. “Can-can I ask about the small things? Such as your family. Are you all magic?”

“Well, I know that my mother has a second cousin who is a Squib.” he turned to his mother who was busy making lunch in the kitchen and boiling tea. Jon watched fascinated at how she waved her wand around, making pots and pans fly around. “Right, Mother?”

“Hm? Oh yes!” Mrs Weasley answered. “Poor Archimedes! Life has been so cruel and unfair to him, so he moved to America. There he lives with his wife and his daughter, Mafalda. Ah, she should be around Ginny’s age!”

Jon turned to Percy. “Um…what exactly is a Squib?”

Percy thought about Tim and Martin. “A Squib is…it’s someone who is born in a magical family, but doesn’t have any magic in them. They’re not really…common and by society’s standards, they are treated as second-class citizens.”

“What.” Jon said flatly and his eyes flashed dangerously. “Are you telling me that because of a lack of magic, both Tim and Martin are regarded as second-class citizens by your society?”

“Y-yes.” Percy sighed heavily. “Our world is ruled by a government, the Ministry of Magic and it exists in every known government of the world’s countries. The main responsibility is to make sure we’re hidden and protected from Muggles.”

“And again, what are Muggles?” Jon insisted. “I’m getting really sick of that word!”

Sirius entered the dining room. “Non-magic humans.” He answered casually. Percy had noticed that he seemed in a better mood and it was probably the seasonal spirit. “Our shitty government has a negative view, so that’s why you and your friend Sasha’s fates will be decided soon.”

“Our fates…what does that mean?” Jon snapped and got more agitated. “Is-is that a threat-”

“No, it isn’t!” Percy quickly said. “Calm yourself, Jon.”

Remus soon joined Sirius. “Excuse me, pardon this idiot. He keeps saying wrong things at the wrong time and that’s why everyone keeps thinking he’s the bad guy.” He shot an irritated glare at Sirius who shrugged. He offered a hand. “Remus Lupin.”

Jon shook his hand cautiously. “Ah…Jonathan Sims. Deputy Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.” He introduced himself.

Percy forced down a smile. “Jon, we’re outside work. You can introduce yourself casually.”

“Right…” Jon mumbled and suddenly got busy drinking his tea. He blinked confused. “Oh…ah. Martin’s tea is nearly similar in taste. Very delicious.”

“Thank you, dear.” Mrs Weasley smiled brightly at him. “Percy, I just found out that your little friend doesn’t have any living family to spend the holidays. I hope you weren’t about to leave him alone?”

“Certainly not!” Percy exclaimed. “In fact, we had a little holiday party planned if it wasn’t for us being attacked and nearly getting eaten by flesh-infesting worms.”

Remus covered his mouth and looked like he was gonna get sick.

“He doesn’t like worms.” Sirius added unhelpfully and grinned. “Especially not when I pranked him in our fifth year. I just had this candy worm, which I charmed to look like a real one. All slimy and wiggly and looking very real, and then I bit it and-”

At this point, poor Remus Lupin covered his mouth with both hands. “Sirius Black, I hate you…” He said with a muffled voice.

“Love you too, Moony.” Sirius laughed.

Mrs Weasley nearly set a large pot of stew very hard on the table. “No more of that worm nonsense!” She snapped at Sirius. “It’s not funny!”

“I was just trying to lighten the mood.” Sirius said irritatedly. 

“It’s been long enough so we can joke about it.” Fred remarked cheerily.

“And if one of us has to make fun of the situation, so he can move on.” George agreed with a grin.

Percy held up a hand. “It’s fine, Mother. Frankly, if none of my brothers or Sirius made fun of my experience, I’m sure that I would keep overthinking about it and drive myself mad.”

Jon watched the family interactions with great interest. Percy then noticed that Jon was nearly drowning in a red large, knitted jumper and he seemed smaller than usual. It was nearly comical and he thought that Tim would have a field day with this.

And that was when it hit him…

“Where are the others?” He asked Sirius. “I know my siblings well enough that they never miss lunch.”

Sirius was about to answer when the twins interrupted him.

“Upstairs.”

“Harry’s moping.”

“As usual.”

“He’s an angsty teen now.”

“And yet so small.”

Percy sighed. “Yes, alright. Thank you.” He said, vaguely irritated because it wasn’t them he asked. “Next time, answer if I actually ask you two .”

Sirius shrugged. “I don’t mind, you know that.”

“Yes, but-but that isn’t the point!” Percy protested. “It’s about the principle! If you ask me something, I am bound to answer and not anyone else! Also I looked specifically at you! You always talk to the one you are looking at!”

“There he is!” Fred smirked.

“Our old, prissy brother!” George nodded.

Both of them applauded in a slow manner.

“Stop applauding me everytime I lose my temper!” Percy snapped. 

“That’s enough, you two!” Mrs Weasley scolded them. “Head upstairs and fetch your younger siblings and Harry. And stop bothering Percy, he needs to rest!”

And just as he thought they were done with the surprises, it seemed like the universe wasn’t quite done with him yet. When he helped out his mother setting the long table (he had to insist on it and prove that he wasn’t made of glass) and Sirius was currently upstairs, showing Jon where he and the rest of the assistants would be staying. 

Percy was spooked when he heard a shrill shriek behind him and he turned around. Hermione, who had entered the dining room with Ron, Harry and Ginny in tow, stared at him with a horrified expression. “What have you done to yourself?!”

His brain got into a temporary short-circuit. “I thought you were with your parents?” He asked.

All his younger siblings bursted out laughing. “Stop it, you lot!” Mrs Weasley said strictly, as she didn’t find it the slightest funny. 

“Worms nearly killed and ate me.” Percy answered Hermione’s question. “Don’t worry, me and my assistants have all been checked for any lasting effects.

Hermione shook her head so her bushy hair flew around. “I-I know what happened, the boys told me. I just wasn’t prepared for actually seeing the…ah, scars.”

“He can always pass off those scars as freckles.” Ron said teasingly. 

“Thank you. Ron. You always know what to say.” Percy said dryly.

“You’re welcome.” His youngest brother smirked. “More importantly, why aren’t we eating yet?”

“Because we’re waiting for the others to return-” Then they heard the front door open and close. “Ah, it must be them!”

“The muggles?” Ron asked confusedly. “I thought they were being obli-”

“And I am right here.”

Sirius strode into the dining room, in a very cheerful mood, and Jon trailed behind him, still looking awkward and small in that jumper. Behind them walked a smaller group that consisted of Martin, Tim and Sasha. And behind them were Jenny and Danny Stoker.

“Right…now when everyone is here, please take your seats.” Mrs Weasley said fondly at their muggle guests. Well, at least two of them were Muggles. The others were apparently two Squibs and their magical younger siblings.

Lunch was an…interesting affair.

Percy had thought, since he accepted the job offer long ago in June, that his family would never meet his assistants at all and granted, since he had thought all of them were muggles. Apparently he was wrong and now, he suffered the consequences of it.

“So!” Tim said with his usual bright, charming grin. “I am Tim Stoker, eldest son and your friendly, devastatingly charming neighbourhood Squib. And this is my little brother, Danny!” He gestured to himself and then at Danny who sat next to him.

Danny looked a lot like Tim and he waved. “I’m in Ravenclaw at Hogwarts.”

“Hang on, you don’t happen to be related to a Philomena Stoker?” Sirius asked.

“Yup, she’s a healer at St. Mungos. Our dad died in the war.” Tim nodded.

Percy suddenly looked at Tim, nearly alarmed. Surely…it couldn’t be Tim who saved him from magical exhaustion? But it could make sense…no muggle knew of St. Mungos unless they had siblings who were magical. But even so, they wouldn’t be able to bring someone there. Only wizards, witches and Squibs could find and enter St. Mungos. And there was a Healer Stoker…

It was so damn obvious the whole time!

“-so you left our world because frankly, our lovely society treats you like shit?” Sirius was very sarcastic about the ministry (it had taken Percy a while to understand his level of sarcasm). 

“That’s right.” Tim nodded. “And I realised that I don’t have to be a part of a world where I don’t even have rights. Besides, the muggle world has a lot of fun things going on if you know where to look! And I’m not really a big fan of conservatism.”

“So the whole magical community’s government is ruled by magical Tories?” Sasha questioned and raised her eyebrow.

Martin scoffed. “Yeah, that’s one way to look at it.”

“And very accurate.” Jenny nodded sourly. “I still don’t see why I can’t call them out by sending a strong-worded letter to the newspaper-”

“Because I say so!” Martin scolded her. “Jenny, you can’t fight the whole world on how they treat Squibs.”

“Why not?” 

Sirius smirked. “Yes, why not?” He asked teasingly. 

“Maybe Fudge shouldn’t worry about Dumbledore and the Order…” Fred started.

“The git should worry about the Squbs committing a revolution!” George finished.

“Oh, don’t joke about that!” Mrs Weasley said. “Squibs are already very ill treated and we don’t need it to become worse.”

“Alright, change of subject then.” Sirius nodded and looked over at the gingers who weren’t Weasleys. “Okay, you two said your family name is Blackwood, right? I can’t say that I recognise that name anywhere.”

“Our dad was a Muggle, but mum’s a witch.”

“Or at least used to be.” Martin said slowly, as if he considered the pros and cons of telling about his family. “Look…all we know is that our mum made some kind of vow to our dad and when he vanished, her magic also vanished. So she isn’t exactly well-”

Jenny coughed into her arm, although it sounded a little fake and Percy would swear that she was hiding the words “abusive” in the coughs. Martin sent his sister a scolding glare before he continued. “Blackwood is our mum’s surname. I don’t know what our dad was like, my sister was just a baby back then and I was too young to fully remember. All I can remember is that he didn’t like to say goodbye, for some reason. Because if you don’t say goodbye, then you’re not really gone…”

“You’re just not there right now.” Jenny added and the Blackwood siblings exchanged fond smiles to each other. 

“Oh, you poor little dears.” Mrs Weasley said softly. “You must’ve had a very hard time.”

“Not really, there’s always Grandad.” Jenny chirped. “He’s not here right now either, he works in America so he’s there all the time. But he sends really special gifts for birthdays and for Hanukkah!”

“Wait, you two are Jewish?” Ron asked, interested.

“Shalom!” Jenny grinned.

“On our mother’s side.” Martin confirmed.

But Sirius seemed to be deep in thought. “Blackwood…I assume that it’s your grandfather’s surname?”

“Yes, Marius Blackwood.”

The first name of their grandfather seemed to spark interest in Sirius. It was very brief and he looked over at Jon and Sasha. “Then we only have our Muggle guests.”

“Okay, I’m Sasha James. I don’t have parents because they died in an accident when I was two years old, so I was raised by my aunt.” Sasha introduced herself. “I don’t recall them at all, so I don’t really have anything to feel sad over.”

Jon cleared his voice. “Ah yes…my name is Jonathan Sims. I am also an orphan. My father fell off a ladder and broke his neck when I was two and my mother passed during a routine surgery when I was four. I was raised by my grandmother, who unfortunately doesn’t live anymore.”

They all stared in disbelief over how blunt Jon was about his family tragedy.

“Okay, that’s really sad.” Ginny then said. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine.” Jon waved off their concerns. “Nothing to worry about.”

Bill looked over at Percy’s co-workers and friends. “Let me get this right. The whole department of the archives consists of you four with tragic backgrounds, including Percy, and you just got all attacked by a weird living hive that was set on murdering you in cold blood-”

“William!” Mrs Weasley snapped. “Not in front of your little brothers and sister!”

“Eh, we’ve lived through worse things.” Ron muttered to Harry who shrugged.

“And none of you have gotten therapy about this?” Bill finished. 

“Well…” Martin started. “Therapy kinda costs a lot…”

“No one will believe us.” Jon huffed.

“The institute has kind of a bad reputation.” Sasha added.

“I don’t even know if therapy is funded by Bitchard.” Tim finished.

Percy instantly slapped his hands over his mouth, snorting and trying to supress his laughter. “Tim…that-that’s horrible!” He gasped.

“YOU MADE HIM LAUGH!” Fred and George shouted and pointed at Tim who smirked.

“Ages! We have tried for ages to make him laugh!”

“But it never worked…”

“We just assumed he had no sense of humour.”

Percy regained his posture. “You’ve never been funny.”

That sentence was apparently a mistake.

His twin brothers began to instantly gasp dramatically and hold their hands over the heart, deeply insulted by only four words.

“NEVER BEEN FUNNY?! You hear that, Gred?!”

“Absolutely, my dear Forge! This is a scandal!”

“The shame!”

“The outrage!

When his twin brothers sent him two identical evil grins, like two sharks just smelt fresh blood, Percy felt a cold shiver down his spine and looked at Tim. “Please save me from my evil brothers, Stoker.”

Tim lit up like a lamp bulb. “What, the big, powerful wizard needs help from little me?” He teased.

“If you don’t want me to fire me, then help me out!” Percy snapped irritatedly.

“Alright, deal!” Tim grinned.

Percy completely missed the knowing grin Fred and George sent to each other, nodding importantly.

Mischief Managed.

After lunch, in which Mrs Weasley denied any help with the dishes, Percy found himself in the large, spacious sitting room with his assistants. Not trusting his brothers for the moment, he had closed the door and cast sound-muffling spells so his nosy siblings wouldn’t eavesdrop with their stupid inventions.

“I’ll cut to the chase.” Percy said and paced around in the room. “I can’t imagine anyone else being a bigger success with my family than you four.”

“I still can’t believe that you planned to deny us this meeting until the bitter end.” Tim grinned, he leaned back at an armchair and stretched his arms. “Oh god, I haven’t been this full for ages!”

“Me neither.” Martin muttered from his spot on the couch.

“It was so good…” Sasha said, sitting next to Martin and treated him like a pillow, and sighed dreamily. “Your mum’s cooking is like a taste from the heavens!”

Jon was in another armchair, but sat in it with the legs dangling over the armrest. “I don’t think I’m gonna need food for a while now…she convinced me to eat at least two full plates of lunch.” He sighed.

“That’s how my mother is.” Percy smiled. “She’s someone who always takes good care of everyone, whether it’s family or guests. I was honestly worried about how my family would react to you guys. Except for perhaps my father, but he’s more interested in finding out the functions of a rubber duck.”

“Seriously?” Sasha chuckled.

“Yes. My father has always been fascinated by muggles and their culture, so it’s been a life-long obsession of his.” Percy said fondly. “Someday, you need to remind me to tell you what he did with our old car.”

“Hold on…is that what I think it is?” Tim grinned. “Danny wrote to me a couple of years ago and told me that a flying Ford Angelia crashed into a really angry willow tree at his school!”

Percy sighed and hung down with his head. “...that might be that. My father…ah…that car was his little pet project. He had experimented on it with so many spells and enchantments so it could fly through the air. It was supposed to have a button that cast invisibility on the car, but it was a new development so it didn’t work correctly when my youngest brother and Harry flown with it across the country when they missed the school train.”

Tim burst out laughing.

“It wasn’t funny!” Percy snapped and crossed his arms.

“Yes, it was!” Tim gasped for breath.

“So if they flew a whole car across the country, then a lot of people must’ve seen it!” Sasha remarked. 

“It made headlines for our newspaper for months.” Percy said and sat down in a spare armchair. “It was such serious business and the Ministry had to do damage control for a long while. Worst of all, my father was called into an inquiry and he had to pay a hefty fine for what he did.”

“Oh, good lord.” Jon winced.

“It really impacted our family economy while I was at school.” Percy explained and shuddered at the memory. “We were just lucky that Dad won the grand prize in our newspaper’s yearly galleon draw the next summer after that.”

“Oh! I think I read about that!” Martin added. “You guys really deserved that money.”

“Galleons are the money with the most value in our economic system.” Percy explained to Jon and Sasha. “We have Galleons, Sickles and Knuts.” Percy brought out his wallet, taking out three coins. One in bronze, another in silver and the last one in solid gold. He showed them to his friends.

“How much is a Galleon in pounds, then?” Sasha asked and picked up the gold coin, inspecting it. 

“A Galleon is about five pounds.” Percy replied.

Jon widened his eyes. “Really? One single coin in solid gold equals five British pounds?” He asked incredulously. 

Percy nodded with a smile. “Most Muggleborns has that exact reaction when they join our world.”

“Muggleborn…what’s that?”

“They are magical children born from Muggle origins. Not a single trace of magic can be tracked in the generation, but they are quite common.” Percy explained. “Unfortunately, because of the severe conservatism and blood status supremacy in our society, they are being discriminated against and in worst cases, targeted by real psychopaths.”

“That’s bullshit!” Sasha exclaimed and looked very angry. “Who do they think they are?! They think they’re better than everyone else, just because they’re, like, fifth or sixth generation with magic?!”

“That’s exactly that.” Tim said bitterly. It was so strange and uncanny to see Happy-Go-Lucky Tim sound so angry, as if there were venom dripping from his voice and his eyes flashed dangerously. “This whole society is really bullshit, Sasha. That’s why I fucking left it! I had enough with our own Tories with magic stepping on those they think aren’t “worthy” enough. My dad was Muggleborn and I heard what they called him. He was too stubborn to give up and determined to prove himself, so much that it got him tortured and killed.”

Percy then understood that Tim had so many reasons to abandon the magical world for good, now when he heard how his father and how he was treated.

“I also left…just briefly.” Percy admitted and he sat down. Tim glanced at him. “I…Tim, have kept in touch with the newspaper?”

Tim looked at him for a moment. “Not that often, I only read if it’s something that concerns me or Danny. But I kept up with it last year.” He said. 

“Did…did you, by any chance, read about someone named Bartemius Crouch Senior?”

Martin looked up, staring at Percy with widened eyes, and Tim frowned at Percy. Realisation suddenly dawning to them both. 

“That’s why you left.” Tim said. “The goddamn Ministry needed a scapegoat and they picked his personal assistant. Aka, you. ”

Percy nodded and the burden felt heavier on his shoulders. “It-it was my fault. I had only worked for him for a couple of months, I barely knew Mr Crouch or how he usually was like.” He whispered, but it was silent enough in the room so they could hear him. “I-I did a misconduct. I didn’t know that he was kidnapped, impersonated by someone else and…murdered in the end. Everything’s my fault…Voldemort wouldn’t have come back if it wasn’t for me-”

Jon suddenly sent him a withering glare. “Percy. Don’t tell me that you really expect an eighteen year old, who has only worked for an older and more experienced man for two or three months, was supposed to know that a stranger and murderer was impersonating him?”

Percy was floored. “Ah…now when you put it like that, it seems highly unlikely. But I should’ve alerted the matter to a superior once the first letter came and-”

“Answer my question!” Jon bit off. “Yes or no?”

“No!” Percy finally snapped. “N-no, there was no way I could’ve known! By all means, Barty Crouch Junior was dead to the whole world’s knowledge! I had no other superior to turn to and I had no reason to suspect otherwise! But-but everyone agreed the fault lied with me-”

“They lied!” Tim got onto his feet and shouted those two words. “Percy, the ministry fucking lied! They used you to throw you under the bus, make you take responsibility for something you had no idea about! They’re money-worshipping, power-hungry asshats and they just wanted to save themselves from the public opinion! What’s better than to throw the young, new assistant to bloodthirsty wolves?”

Sasha looked utterly horrified. “Oh my god…and I thought Elias was a bad boss. Percy…they used you and then fired you when you wouldn’t bend to their will.”

“How long have you been blaming yourself for this?” Martin asked worriedly.

Percy said nothing.

“Based on his silence, I’d say the entire time.” Jon said.

Percy covered his face in his hands and started to sob.  

It was one thing to hear it from his siblings, because they had always been rushing onto conclusions. They were the types to rush into a fight and hope for the best. They didn’t stop to analyse the situation. 

Dad always said it was the Prewett side of him, to stop to think . 

And his family was loyal and devoted to a fault.

But to hear from their perspectives, his co-workers and friends…Jon and Sasha who had no prior knowledge of his world…

It finally dawned on him that Mr Crouch’s death wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault that Voldemort, the darkest and most evil of all wizards, was back.

It wasn’t his fault.

“Are-are you sad?” Jon asked nervously, fidgeting his hands and worried that maybe he went too far. “I…ah, I didn’t upset you, did I?”

“No, I’m happy!” Percy shouted, nearly laughing. “I’m so relieved that it wasn’t my fault! It wasn’t my fault!”

That was how he found himself being in the middle of a big embrace of four people. Tim and Martin on each of his side, Sasha hugging him from behind and Jon in the front. 

For six months, he had this pressed on him. The guilt had nearly suffocated him, making it hard to breathe and he couldn’t cry, he wouldn’t let out any of his feelings, and he had truly believed that he was the reason people had died. Mr Crouch…and then Cedric Diggory, who had been his friend, had died. But now everything was flowing down and it finally sank down to him that it wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his fault at all.

All he needed to confirm it was from another perspective.

Chapter Text

Christmas this year was apparently a more different affair than he had thought. For all he knew, there was a 50/50 percent chance that he was going to celebrate the holidays either at the Burrow or Grimmauld Place (since he wasn’t keen on leaving Sirius alone on Christmas). But he had never included his assistants in that particular equation. 

But since they were all staying here, Percy thought about how surprised Jon and Sasha would be when they would celebrate their first Christmas with his magical and very chaotic family. 

It wasn’t until the morning of December 24th, when Tonks finally returned with the news he was waiting for.

“Well,” Tonk said cheerfully as Remus handed her a cup of hot tea, sitting by the long table and having breakfast with them. “Turns out that they can’t get their memories erased! Not even the Minister can do anything about that.”

“How come?” Percy pressed for answers, this had been keeping him on his toes for what felt like forever now. 

“Yeah, the order comes from the Department of Mysteries and they’re kinda their own boss. Fudge can’t boss them around because they handle business that isn’t magic but also isn’t muggle.” Tonk continued. “You know…apparently there is a third thing that has never been made public and probably never will. I have a couple of friends down there, but they are really tight-lipped about the stuff. I was really close friends with them from school. Anyways, your muggle friends don't class as “just muggles” anymore, now that you guys have lived through something like Prentiss.”

Percy nodded. “So this means…?”

“This means that your friends, Jon and Sasha, are protected by this Section 30.” Tonks said. Percy said nothing. “Okay, I’m gonna try to explain this as best as I can. So, there is this act that was passed by some Minister long ago. The Freedom of Paranormal Information Act. It was approved sometime in 1817. Anyways, when someone falls under that category, they have to write a-”

“Statement?” Percy asked.

“I was gonna say a report, but yeah, statement works.” Tonks shrugged. “Anyways, you have to write about what happened to you and sign your name. Just like that, you are “sectioned”.” Tonk made quotation gestures at the last word. “So legally, it doesn’t matter if you’re a wizard, squib or muggle, the Ministry has no business with you. They can’t jail you, snap your wand or even obliviate your memories.”

Percy swallowed. “So…my friends, Jon and Sasha. They legally can’t be obliviated?”

“Nope.” Tonks said and downed her tea. “Snyde and Copper confirmed this for me, they’re both Unspeakables, you know.”

‘Merula Snyde and Ben Copper…’ Percy thought to himself. ‘I haven’t heard a word of them since they graduated from Hogwarts, since Cassidy’s disappearance. I had no idea that both of them worked in the Department of Mysteries. The matter of the Cursed Vaults is handled by Unspeakables, after all…is that why they work there? To find her?’

Either way…Jon and Sasha were safe from getting their memories erased. 

“Wait, so all we have to do is to make our statements about Prentiss?”

Tonks nodded. “More like writing a report about it-”

“So, a statement.” Percy corrected.

Tonk groaned. “Yes, fine. A statement then.”

The entire day was spent in a much happier and relaxed manner than Percy could remember. Even Jon seemed to have forgotten about Prentiss and the Institute for a while.

It also gave him great joy to see Sirius being cheered up by the seasonal joy. He was no longer the sullen host from last summer and Percy smiled as he ran around, singing jolly Christmas songs, and being so focused into making this a pleasant experience for everyone.

Of course, Percy wouldn’t hear that he couldn’t help around the house. So he went into a cleaning frenzy.

That is what his parents called it when his surroundings were far too messy and his patience ran dry. So Percy quickly made himself some cleaning gear. He found himself a long apron with pockets, tied a clean handkerchief around his hair (he needed to keep it away), got himself rubber gloves and tied another clean handkerchief around his face, to cover his nose and mouth from any dust and potential doxy poison.

His pockets were filled with cleaning utensils and he was holding a broomstick in his hand (not one for flying, but the kind you actually clean with).

Tim laughed. “You look as if you’re going to war.”

“I am at war, Stoker.” Percy said seriously and adjusted his glasses. “I am at war against this wretched house, filled with dirt and filth.”

Tim held up his hands in a “I surrender” manner and let his young boss run off to fight the dust and filth of the house.

Later, Bill returned to the house and was met by the sight of both Percy and Sirius cleaning the entire entrance hall, removing all the cobwebs from the ceilings and chandeliers. For a moment, he stared at his little brother in all his cleaning gear, and quickly went into the kitchen.

“Mum?”

“What is it?” His mum responded, she was busy cleaning all the cooking ware with Martin helping her out. 

“Percy has a cleaning frenzy again.” Bill said and looked around the kitchen and dining all. He barely recognized the place anymore. Somehow, it seemed…brighter and much cleaner. 

“Let him be.” Mrs Weasley said strictly. “You know not to disturb him when he cleans.”

“As long as he remembers to rest. At this rate, he might clean the entire house by himself.” Bill joked and picked up a silver fork. “Huh…I didn’t even know Sirius had forks, spoons and knives in silver.”

Jon sat by the dining table, busying himself by polishing all the silverware by hand. He seemed to have a very pleasant time. “I asked him earlier. Apparently he belongs to the ancient Black family, so there are a lot of family heirlooms he doesn’t like.”

Bill raised an eyebrow. “You actually like to do this?”

“It’s relaxing.” Jon said casually. 

Well, his own little brother and Jon were like two peas in a pod, Bill decided. He had never thought there would be someone else who was on the same wavelength as Percy and yet, here he was.

It was heartwarming to see Percy having friends. Bill reflected back when he was still in school, but Percy had just begun. It had been so difficult for him to make friends; most of his peers in Gryffindor thought he was so odd, just because he preferred books before playing Quidditch and for a Weasley, that was just strange. 

And Percy was so passionate about learning, whether it’s school subjects or for leisure. And once he was obsessed with a certain subject, he could go on and on for hours, days or even months. He remembered one time when Percy wouldn’t talk about anything else than muggle science, especially physics (Dad had actually encouraged Percy about that particular subject).

There was always Oliver Wood, of course and that was such a strange lad. The only thing he was genuinely interested in was Quidditch. Charlie had a field day with him when the lad joined the Gryffindor team. Bill thought about how there were seven first years when Percy started and because seven boys didn’t fit in one dorm, Percy shared a separate dorm with Oliver (since their surnames began with a W). 

So many times Percy just stomped inside his own dorm and complained about Wood. Oh, he nearly missed those times. His little brother had been so small for his age and then when he became fifteen, he just grew as if a tree got an instant grow potion.

Bill remembered when he had introduced Percy to his friends and his brother had instantly latched onto Cassidy. He had admired her so much and in retrospect, it wasn’t hard to. Cassie had become a role model for many young, new students during his school years. Percy looked up to her, as if she was the brightest star who graced them all with her presence.

He lost his smile when he thought about Cassidy, wherever she could be now. Bill refused to believe she was dead. He knew that she couldn’t be dead. ‘Wherever in the world you are, Cassie…I hope I will see you at Christmas next year. I’m sure we will meet again.’

The result of Percy and Sirius’ combined efforts and hard work was done when it was dinner time. 

The entrance hall looked, no pun intended, magical. The tarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets. And in the sitting room, a great Christmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, blocked Sirius's family tree from view, and even the stuffed elf-heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards.

“That is incredibly morbid.” Jon remarked.

“And it wasn’t my idea.” Percy scoffed indignantly. “It was Sirius and he did it anyway, despite my protests.”

Martin glanced at the mentioned wizard, who was having far too much fun decorating the staircase railings with holly garlands. “How come you are living with Sirius Black, anyways?” During lunch-time, Percy had to tell his assistants about Sirius and that he was innocent for a crime he didn’t commit, because Merlin knows that Sirius would be rubbish at explaining he’s innocent. 

“Well…” Percy rubbed his neck, awkwardly. “Me and my family were staying here last summer and I decided to stay. Partly because it was easier to get to the institute from here in London than from my family home in the countryside at Devon.”

Jon nodded. “Yes, that seems very reasonable and practical. Not to mention it would be hard to drive everyday from Devon to London.”

“Oh, we don’t have to drive.” Tim added with a grin. “In our shitty magical world, we can travel with magic! So we’re there, poof, just like that!”

Martin scowled. “Don’t say it like that, Tim! Don’t you have any manners?”

“You know him, Marto.” Sasha smirked. “Of course he doesn’t have manners.”

“Rude.” Tim said and stuck out his tongue at Sasha. “Anyways. We can travel through fireplaces.”

Jon stared at him, dumbfounded. “Uh…ah…fireplaces. How does that go?”

Tim smirked mischievously and inhaled, probably to tell him a big, fat lie, when Percy interrupted him. 

“We take a handful of floo powder, it’s a certain kind of powder where we’re supposed to throw it into a fireplace with a burning fire, which doesn’t hurt us by the way. All you have to do is to step inside, say very clearly where you want to go and then you throw the powder down to the fire and then you vanish into it, travelling to a connecting fireplace located in the place you want to go.”

He took a deep breath.

“Good lord, how fast can you talk?” Jon asked, surprised while Tim pouted in the background. “And I suppose the fireplace travel does make more sense, now when you just explained it. If the institute had a fireplace, then it would’ve been convenient for you.”

“Yes and no.” Martin said. “The ministry can only connect two fireplaces that belong to citizens residing in the magical community. For example, Squibs can use the Floo System if their fireplace is in a magic home.”

“Don’t you need magic to do that?” Sasha asked.

“Nope. Anyone can travel with floo powder, because the floo powder is a magical artefact!” Tim said cheerfully. “All of the magic is contained in the fireplace once it's attached to the floo network. That was how I managed to get Percy to St. Mungos.”

Percy glanced at Tim. “I…I don’t think I have thanked you for that yet.” He started, feeling incredibly embarrassed about that. “N-not that I didn’t want to thank you, but it took me a long while to figure who it was and then Prentiss started to attack us-”

“Hey, it’s cool. We’re cool.” Tim held up his hands. “I had a hunch that you were gonna try something like that, at some point. But I didn’t know you were gonna stay after hours and nearly kill yourself because of that.”

Jon looked back and forth. “Can you die from that?”

“All wizards and witches have a magical core within themselves. It’s a part of us, in the spiritual sense, and in certain ages, we have a limit of how much we can take. Think of it as you can’t exercise too much, because you run out of stamina and there’s too much strain on your physical body. That is how it is when we overdo it with magic and we can die of magical exhaustion.”

“I see.” Jon said. “So what you did back then was nearly killing yourself by going beyond the limits of your magical stamina.”

Percy sighed. “Yes. And that was why I was put on bedrest for three days. The damage wasn’t so great that it could’ve killed me, but if no one had found me…” He trailed off and tried to not think about it. “Magical exhaustion can be serious if left untreated. That was why my family wasn’t so happy with me and refused to let me out of their sight for three days. That was the most dangerous thing I had done before Prentiss. So I guess they’re all a little paranoid now.”

“Yeah, because you turned up half-dead twice for them now.” Sasha pointed it out. “If I had a sibling I care about and they nearly died twice and I didn’t even know they were in danger, I’d be really scared and paranoid to let them go again.”

It had never hit Percy how much this affected his family until now. Oh. That was why Bill was so paranoid now. He hadn’t even thought about what his siblings felt like. He had been so preoccupied with surviving Prentiss, protecting his assistants and then worrying about his father being bitten by a goddamn snake.

He didn’t even think about how they felt seeing him nearly die.

“I’m an idiot.” Percy suddenly said. “I haven’t considered how they felt about seeing me half-dead twice.”

“You haven’t talked to them about it?!” Martin exclaimed.

“DIRTY HALF BLOODS-” The vulgar portrait of Mrs Black started to scream again.

“SHUT UP!” Percy shouted, but to his surprise, Jon, Martin, Tim and Sasha also joined in and shouted those two words at once.

Sirius then appeared with another box of decorations, watching the portrait of his mother nearly choke by being shamed by two squibs, one blood traitor and two muggles. He grinned as the portrait went silent.

“This is the best Christmas present I could ever get.” He remarked happily.

The next morning, Percy woke up when something soft hit his head.

“MORNING!” Fred and George stood there, already dressed in their new knitted jumpers. “Happy Christmas, Parchivist!”

Percy fumbled after his glasses on the nightstand and put them on. A quick glance at the clock told him it was a little past eight o’clock. “You couldn’t let me sleep in, today of all days…” He said and yawned. “And what is a Parchivist?”

“Your name, dear brother.” Fred smirked.

“-and the word archivist-” George added.

“Put it together-”

“And what do you got?”

“Parchivist!” They finished in union, looking ridiculously proud of themselves.

Percy sighed, he really should’ve seen that coming. “Well, good job on the new word. I am sure it will be a nice addition to a future lexicon.” He said dryly. “How about you bother Ron instead?”

“On it!”

PANG

Both of the twins vanished into thin air, most likely apparating themselves upstairs to Harry and Ron’s room. Percy stared dumbfounded after them before he shook his head. They needed to work on how to apparate without a sound, but he strongly suspected they were doing that on purpose so he wouldn’t go back to sleep.

Besides, it was impossible to fall back asleep now.

He left the four poster bed and walked over to the mirror on the wall, trying to brush his hair to make him a little more presentable. His curls had grown impossibly long for the past months and his mind had been dead set on the looming threat of Prentiss than to actually care about how he looked. Right now, his hair had grown to half of his neck, like a very curly, fiery red bob haircut.

Amazing how his mother hasn’t even said a word about it while she still pesters Bill about a haircut.

He turned around and saw a pile of Christmas presents by the foot of his bed. Well, he might as well open them now. Tradition and all.

This year’s knitted sweater was dark green with a P in gold. He had no idea how his mother never seemed to run out of yarn, but he had never asked. And the moment he touched it, suddenly his vision turned foggy.

His bedroom at Grimmauld Place vanished and he was seeing a different room at Grimmauld Place. It was as he was standing in the room, watching and he was still not there. He saw Harry, sitting up in his bed and opening his Christmas presents when Fred and George Apparated at the foot of his bed.

“Merry Christmas,” said George. “Don't go downstairs for a bit.”

“Why not?” said Ron.

“Mum's crying again,' said Fred heavily. “Percy sent back his Christmas jumper.”

“Without a note,” added George. “Hasn't asked how Dad is or visited him or anything.”

“We tried to comfort her,” said Fred, moving around the bed to look at Harry's portrait. “Told her Percy's nothing more than a humungous pile of rat droppings.”

“Didn't work,” said George, helping himself to a Chocolate Frog.

The vision ended and Percy nearly collapsed on the floor on his knees, his hands trembles and he saw droplets on the floor. Quickly reached to itch back at something on his cheeks, he felt…tears.

Another vision of what his future could’ve been if he accepted Fudge’s offer.

Why? Why torture him like this? He didn’t understand why his Seer abilities tormented him like this, showing visions of the future he was supposed to live and watching as his family seemed better off without him. Why today of all days?

He grabbed a hold of his new knitted jumper, hugging it tightly to his heart. ‘Try to breathe…’ He thought toi himself. ‘Breathe in through the nose…’ He inhaled. ‘And out through the mouth.’ He exhaled slowly. ‘Again. In through the nose…and out through the mouth.’

The door opened and he barely reacted. “Happy Christmas, P-what happened?!”

Percy looked up and there stood Ginny, with hands on her hips and she looked very determined to beat up whoever made him cry. He hadn’t even noticed how much she had grown up since the summer. “I-it’s nothing, Gin.” He said softly. “I saw something that clearly didn’t happen…and I was briefly shaken.”

“Rubbish!” Ginny said and Percy was taken aback of how blunt she was. “Bill said that you have been worried about your future visions, that you see things that clearly didn’t happen. Is it another one?”

Percy hesitated to talk about it. He never liked to talk about his Seer abilities and it was a little of an open secret in his family. They didn’t talk about it because they didn’t know what to do with the information and frankly, he didn’t give prophecies. He could only see what might possibly happen in the future and Percy hated to talk about it.

“...I received a vision of the future, if I had accepted Fudge’s promotion.” Percy finally admitted. Ginny was the first one to know about this. “We had a row, me and Dad and I…left you guys. I became estranged. You all hated me. I don’t know why I get visions of this…alternate future that I should’ve probably had if I had taken his offer and never found the institute.”

“Well, it didn’t happen. Why worry about it?” Ginny said.

“Because I end up questioning my standing in the family, what I mean for you at all!” Percy exclaimed. “I know that I’m not so well-liked, no one likes a weird, know-it-all foureyes! But I can’t stand the thought that my own family hated me for taking an offer that probably would’ve been the only way to save my career.”

Ginny sat on the floor next to him, dressed in a knitted, light purple jumper (honestly, it looked very good on her). “Okay, you’re reading too much into that. That clearly didn’t happen, but maybe your weird future vision was just warning you for a path that obviously would destroy you on the inside.”

Percy said nothing.

“And we don’t hate you, idiot.” Ginny said and Percy looked at her, shocked that she was so…crude. “You’re our brother and yeah, you’re frustrating sometimes cause you’re so smart and yet, so dumb! We get mad at you because we don’t want anything happening to you. Bill’s been on pins and needles because he’s scared that you’ll chase something that probably can kill you.”

Percy swallowed. “If…just, if I had taken that promotion offer…what would’ve you thought?”

“I would say you’re stupid to take it, cause Fudge would obviously try to use you like a tool.” Ginny answered honestly. It was a brutal honesty, but that was very much in her range. “But I wouldn’t hate you, not now, not if and not ever. I love you, you brilliant idiot.”

Ginny hugged him and Percy felt shaken to his core, in a good way, and it was enough to nearly make him cry again. This time by happiness. “Thank you…” He whispered softly, hugging her back.

The moment didn’t last long before Ginny grabbed a present from his pile, shoving it at him. “Now, open mine and stop loitering!”

Percy felt a little better after his emotional exchange with his sister and he decided to not think too much about the visions of his alternative future. As she bluntly pointed out, they don’t matter because it didn’t come true in the end.

The future was such a complex thing, after all. He barely understood it on a good day.

So Percy dressed in a white collared shirt, a pair of khakis and his new, dark green jumper. His halt this year had been good. Apart from the jumper from his mother, he had received a pair of flannel shirts from Bill (they were soft under his touch, very good texture), Fred and George had given him a box filled with joke products from their soon-to-open joke store (he seriously doubted when he would use candy that make anyone sick) but he appreciated the bath bombs that apparently played music when they were being dissolved in water. He had received a small box of them that was in the scents of jasmine, lavender, honey-vanilla, chamomile and peppermint.

Oddly thoughtful of them.

It was evident that Ron had very little idea to give him, so it was generally office supplies. Which he was very happy about in a Percy-esque way. A couple of empty notebooks, writing utensils like pens with ink inside, pencil grips that were very soft and in various colours, scented markers, a set of pencils in plastic and pastel colours and a pencil case to keep all his new office supplies in.

To be honest, Percy was very excited about the strange eraser pens that had cherry and green apple scents.

Ginny…she had given him a heavy gift that was books from someone named Stephen King. Percy looked among the books, examining them carefully. Well, they certainly looked interesting! He had no idea what they were about, but  it seemed like Carrie, IT, The Talisman, The Shining and a series of three books called The Dark Tower would be a pleasant distraction when he wasn’t fearing for his life in the archives.

She had also added an adorable tin can with tea. Sometimes it was as if she knew him better than he thought.

Charlie’s gift had been…a surprise and Percy went still when he opened it, sent all the way from Romania. A light blue Walkman cassette player with earphones, along with cassette tapes. It wasn’t new, but he had seen it before and he knew exactly who it belonged to before.

There was also a note.

“Hey, Perce. Sorry I couldn’t stay longer in London this time. I hope you’re okay. I know we’re not really close, but remember that I’m not far away if you wanna talk. Anyways, I think you recognise this thing. You need it more than I do and Cassie would’ve wanted you to have it. You two really liked that Kate Bush tape. 

Stay safe and see you in summer.

-Charlie”

Percy held one of the cassette tape boxes in his hand, where a pictured woman with dark hair was snuggled with two dogs. He didn’t waste any time. He took out the tape, placing it inside the walkman, put on the headphones and pushed on the play button. 

“It's you and me
It's you and me
Won't be unhappy

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get Him to swap our places
Be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that hill
Be runnin' up that building

Say, if I only could”

Tears were flowing down his face and something felt stuck in his throat, he was trying to breathe. The painful memory of Cassidy taking his place…being dragged into that cursed vault and vanishing beyond an unreachable place…

He wiped away his tears and looked down at the Walkman that belonged to a much treasured friend, someone who was the closest thing to an older sister he ever had, and he wished that Ron and Ginny could’ve met her. 

Cassidy was someone who belonged more in their family, somehow. He knew Charlie still loved her to this day and it was probably the only person in the world Charlie would ever love (as he never showed interest in anyone else). Bill had regarded her as a younger sister, but not too young to talk about important things. 

He had seen her as an older sister, a role model and someone safe to turn to, when he needed advice or maybe just comfort. Fred and George had fewer memories with her, but they had loved her and the way she was fun, confident and taught them so many things in the name of mischief (that’d actually explain a lot).

‘She really did it, didn’t she…’ Percy thought to himself, he kept listening to the song until it ended and he pressed stop before another song would play. ‘Cassidy really made a deal with god and swapped places with me.’

He realised that he had more gifts to open and set aside the Walkman with its headphones for now. He hummed the song under his breath, though. Hermione had given him a very fine stationery with pearl white quills and ink pots in different colours. 

Harry had given him…a very intriguing thing. It was a square box with a handheld device for games, called GameBoy. Along with a note that said “In case you get bored. :)” . Well, that was something to investigate later.

He hadn’t exactly expected anything from his old teacher, but Lupin had given him a couple of books (he had never heard of the Chronicles of Prydain, but they seemed interesting) and a box full with various kinds of chocolate.

Sirius had given him a dark blue puffer jacket, it somehow looked stylish (and he was curious of how he even managed, when he was indoors all the time), and when Percy picked it up to inspect it further, a book fell out, well hidden inside the zipped up jacket, and he picked it up.

All he had to do was to read the title and Percy’s entire face burnt in mortified embarrassment.

Percy rose up and stomped downstairs, enraged.

The kitchen downstairs was nearly crowded with his assistants, and of course, Sirius.

Percy paid no mind to anyone else and walked right to Sirius, only briefly acknowledging Harry for a moment. “Excuse me, I need to murder your godfather right now!”

Harry looked flabbergasted. “What, what?!”

Sirius laughed instead. “So,” he added with a smirk. “Do you like it?”

“I don’t need it! Take it back!” Percy snarled before he stopped himself and glanced at his mother who was busy fussing over Jon, who frankly seemed vaguely overwhelmed of being taken care of, before he added in a lower voice. “Sirius, I don’t need that book about…certain topics.” He glanced at Harry who looked very confused.

“Look, you need to discover yourself a little.” Sirius said. “You know that our cheerful society,” the word cheerful was spoken in all sarcasm. “Doesn’t care about who’s gay or not.”

“Schhh!” Percy hissed and looked around himself in panic. “They don’t know, okay! Not a word from you, not a single word!” He whispered angrily.

“You should really remove that stick up your-”

Percy answered by throwing a soaked dish towel at his face and stomped off.

Harry looked at his godfather, not really understanding why Percy was so upset. “What was that about?”

“He’s having his first, real crush.” Sirius said, far too amused with the whole situation. “And we’re not including those silly schoolboy crushes. This is the real deal.”

Resume sighed as he helped around, setting the table for their Christmas lunch. “You keep teasing him, Sirius. I’m surprised that he hasn’t hexed you yet in your sleep.”

“Living with Percy is really funny.” Sirius told his godson. “It’s been too long since I had fun teasing a nerd like him.”

Considering how some of them celebrated the holidays differently, Percy noticed that this year’s seasonal dishes had some additional ones. For example, neither Martin or Jenny could eat pork because of dietary laws in their religion. 

Jenny had been far too happy to ramble up the kosher restrictions when Hermione asked.

“Okay, so we can only eat from land animals that chew their cud and have cloven hooves. Pigs, hares, camels and hyraxes are forbidden because they only possess one trait and are instantly disqualified.” The youngest Blackwood said cheerfully. “About birds, we can’t eat from predatory birds, water birds that eat fish or bats.”

“Why would you eat bats?!” Ron said, obviously disgusted. 

“I don’t know!” Jenny said with a shrug. “Maybe the Torah put it there, just in case. But anyways, we can eat chicken, turkey, goose and…Martin, I forgot the rest.”

“Chicken, geese, quail, turkey and dove.” Martin finished. “The fish we eat must have both fins and scales. And we can’t eat other seafood, like shrimps or clams.”

“So many rules for Jews.” Ron remarked. “And that’s just for food . Hang on, you can eat eggs, right?”

“Of course we can!” Jenny said. “Otherwise I would’ve jumped into the river Thames.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Martin said strictly.

The lunch was a merry affair, if not very chaotic when Fred and George made fireworks sparkle in the air, whereas both Jon and Sasha watched in awe. Tim and Danny pulled on a Christmas cracker, which exploded, and revealed a funny hat. 

And to Percy’s mild surprise, he discovered that his mother somehow had knitted jumpers for his assistants. He was glad that they weren’t left out and he knew that his mother would never let anyone go without a holiday jumper (as she previously called them Christmas jumpers, she promptly changed the name when she learnt the Blackwoods were Jewish). 

After lunch, the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione were going to visit Mr Weasley at St. Mungos. Tim and Danny were also going, but to visit their mother who was working, and they chose to walk instead since they wanted to enjoy the weather.

The group would be escorted by Mad-Eye and Lupin. Mundungus turned up in time for Christmas pudding and trifle, and had managed to 'borrow' a car for the occasion since the Underground did not run on Christmas Day. 

The car, (which Percy doubted to be simply borrowed) had been enlarged with a spell like the their old Ford Anglia had once been. Although normally proportioned outside, ten people with Mundungus driving were able to fit into it quite comfortably. Mrs Weasley hesitated before getting inside. Percy knew his mother well enough to know that her disapproval of Mundungus was in a struggle with her dislike of travelling without magic.

But the cold outside and her children's pleading won her over, so she settled herself into the back seat between Fred and Bill with good grace.

Percy had been reluctant to leave his assistants behind at Grimmauld Place, but Sasha has assured him that they were fine at the place. It was strange, it felt so odd to be apart from his assistants and friends. He supposed that surviving a dangerous situation together really brought friends together. 

The journey to St Mungo's was quite quick as there was very little traffic on the roads. A small trickle of witches and wizards was creeping furtively up the otherwise deserted street to visit the hospital. The gathering got out of the car, and Mundungus drove off around the corner to wait for them. They strolled casually towards the window where the dummy in green nylon stood, then, one by one, stepped through the glass.

The reception area looked pleasantly festive: the crystal orbs that illuminated St Mungo's had been coloured red and gold to become gigantic, glowing Christmas baubles; holly hung around every doorway; and shining white Christmas trees covered in magical snow and icicles glittered in every corner, each one topped with a gleaming gold star. It was less crowded than the last time they had been there, although halfway across the room Harry found himself shunted aside by a witch with a satsuma jammed up her left nostril.

“Family argument, eh?” smirked the blonde witch behind the desk. “You're the third I've seen today… Spell Damage, fourth floor.”

They found Mr Weasley propped up in bed with the remains of his turkey dinner on a tray on his lap and a rather sheepish expression on his face. 

Percy narrowed his eyes in suspicion and the mental image of his father attempting muggle medicine entered his mind, especially stitches. Huh, that was oddly vivid and specific. ‘Please, don’t let it be true.’

“Everything all right, Arthur?” asked Mrs Weasley, after they had all greeted Mr Weasley and handed over their presents.

“Fine, fine.” said Mr Weasley, a little too heartily. “You, er, haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?”

“No.” said Mrs Weasley suspiciously, “Why?”

“Nothing, nothing.” said Mr Weasley airily, starting to unwrap his pile of gifts. “Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, Harry - this is absolutely wonderful!” For he had just opened Harry's gift of fuse-wire and screwdrivers.

Mrs Weasley did not seem entirely satisfied with Mr Weasley's answer. As her husband leaned over to shake Harry's hand, she peered at the bandaging under his nightshirt.

“Arthur.” she said, with a snap in her voice like a mousetrap, “You've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't need doing until tomorrow!”

“What?” said Mr Weasley, looking rather frightened and pulling the bed covers higher up his chest. 'No, no - it's nothing - it's -l-

He seemed to deflate under Mrs Weasley's piercing gaze.

“Well - now don't get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea… he's the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in… um… complementary medicine… I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies… well, they're called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on-on Muggle wounds-”

Percy felt how he became cold on the inside, as if he had been stuck outside in a snowstorm and froze into a solid ice sculpture. He inhaled calmly. “Dad…please don’t tell me what I think you may have done…”

Mrs Weasley let out an ominous noise somewhere between a shriek and a snarl. Lupin strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr Weasley; Bill muttered something about getting himself a cup of tea and Fred and George leapt up to accompany him, grinning.

“Do you mean to tell me.” said Mrs Weasley, her voice growing louder with every word and apparently unaware that her fellow visitors were scurrying for cover and only her third son remained, as he was foolish to freeze up now. "That you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?”

“Not messing about, Molly, dear.” said Mr Weasley imploringly, “It was just-just something Pye and I thought we'd try…only, most unfortunately, well, with these particular kinds of wounds…it doesn't seem to work as well as we'd hoped-”

“Meaning?”

“Well… well, I don't know whether you know what-what stitches are?”

“It sounds as though you've been trying to sew your skin back together!” said Mrs Weasley with a snort of mirthless laughter, “But even you, Arthur, wouldn't be that stupid-”

And this was probably a bad idea, but there was no use to tip-toe around the subject. “Mother, that is the general idea with stitches.” Percy said and braced himself for the verbal impact. “They are meant to function like that.”

“I fancy a cup of tea, too.” said Harry, jumping to his feet.

Hermione, Ron and Ginny almost sprinted to the door with him. As it swung closed behind them, they heard Mrs Weasley shriek “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?!”

Percy sighed as his father gave him a pitiful look of betrayal and tried, without any further success, to calm down his wife. ‘Not the peaceful Christmas I had in mind.’ Percy thought to himself and sat down on a chair, awkwardly in the middle of his parents’ “argument” about muggle medicine and whether or not they were suitable for magically poison wounds.

“Oh my god, that is hilarious!” Tim shouted with laughter.

They had returned to Grimmauld Place in somewhat sombre moods. Percy told his assistants about the stitches debate between his parents and why muggle medical care was sometimes unsuitable for magic wounds.

Tim found that absolutely funny.

“I assume there is something in the poison that makes the stitches dissolve, then?” Jon suggested and ignored Tim nearly rolling on the floor.

“Yes, I suspect as much. Goodness me, I knew that my father was a little too fond of the muggle world, but not to this extent!” Percy sighed in despair. “I thought he had more sense than this, really.”

“Maybe he was looking for a shortcut, so he could be released faster?” Martin asked. “I mean…it can’t be fun, being all alone in the hospital.”

“No…I suppose so.” Percy said slowly. “Perhaps I am a little too hard on him.”

BOOM

“But I am going to shout the ears off Fred and George if they KNOCK IT OFF!” Percy started, only to shout on the top of his lungs. He was frustrated enough as it was, without them burning off all their new joke products.

That was when he suddenly realised…the silence.

“Wait.”

Percy jumped up to his feet, his assistants looked at him bewildered, and he stepped out of the sitting room, listening after any sound. 

Nothing.

“Sirius. Sirius!” Percy called after the older man.

“What is it-” Sirius trailed off before he realised what the matter was. “It’s silent!” He exclaimed.

Both of them scrambled to where the vulgar portrait was…only to see a large, empty square spot on the wall. 

“I-I…don’t…this is…” Percy was at loss for words.

Sirius seemed to be just as dumbfounded as he was, he kept staring at the wall and then at Percy. Back and forth. “How?!” He exclaimed. “It was impossible to get rid of the hag!”

“I know! We tried everything for the whole time I’ve lived here!” Percy agreed. 

“Oh, I took it down.” Sasha’s voice explained behind them. Both of the shocked men turned around, looking at Sasha who was dressed in a happy yellow jumper (which complemented her skintones). “I just got sick of the bloody portrait, she was being a bitch and kept yelling at me, so I just took it down.”

“You…just took it down?” Sirius asked in disbelief.

“Like it’s hard?” Sasha said dryly. “I just grabbed at the frame and took it down. Then I stuffed it into a black garbage bag and tied it with a ziplock.”

Suddenly, everything made sense to Percy. “Oh! Now, I understand!” He said. “You told me that no one could take it down, because it was magically attached to the wall and warded against any spells and enchantments that could either conceal or silence it! Don’t you see? All those protections fall invalid to Muggles! That was probably how Sasha was able to take down the portrait without any difficulties.”

“Damn it, we’re been idiots.” Sirius sighed.

“...I mean, I guess.” Percy said.

“Or maybe it wouldn’t have worked with you two, because you are wizards?” Sasha pointed it out, still looking very proud of herself. 

“I’ll take that.” Sirius smirked. “Anyways, let’s turn on some music! We’re rid of the hag, so it’s time to really enjoy ourselves now.”

Percy looked at him and narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to play Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead from that vinyl, aren’t you?”

“You know I have longed to do that for ages.” 

Percy’s friendship with Sirius had been an unexpected development for the six months they’ve lived together at Grimmauld Place. The real reason why Percy decided to remain was because of a very unsettling vision he received, one of the few that was actually pretty clear and self-explanatory. 

So he had taken it on himself to try to twist fate, so Sirius could escape an original fate that would have devastating effects on both Remus Lupin and poor Harry. But trying to change the course of the future was no easy task, so Percy hoped that small things, like gestures of simple kindness, would be enough to stop a bad ending.

…yes, he nearly expected that he would receive a payback from fate, for meddling into that kind of business.

But living in a very dark and gloomy house with a roommate had improved Sirius’ mood vastly during the autumn. Apart from Percy recording statements from left to right and then being under stress regarding Prentiss and her murder worms, it was actually been…nice.

Percy had always regarded himself as someone who was easily forgotten, someone no one really liked and someone who remained in the background. He could be there, right there within sight and yet…forgettable. He had thought that he could be satisfied with that, as long as he did his part in this family, as the dutiful son. 

But over the course of just a half-year…Percy had discovered that he was more than that. He was so much more than just a smart, dutiful son with occasional future visions. 

It was so strange that mere six months was more than enough to change his whole life.

Percy sighed fondly to himself, slightly tired from a very eventful and different Christmas Day. He sat on the edge of the four poster bed, in the bedroom of R.A.B which had become his home for the past six months. 

He reflected back at the evening, after dinner which had been calmer than the Christmas lunch and when his mother had calmed down (after scolding his poor father about poor decisions regarding muggle medicine).

“I know we’re not supposed to give presents, cause workplace rules or something like that.” Sasha started, as soon as Percy stepped into the sitting room and found his four assistants waiting for him.

“Not that we care what the double bossman says.” Tim added with a knowing grin.

“Tim.” Percy said tersely.

“Okay, why am I the only one being scolded by our little bossman?” Tim sighed in fake despair.

Jon cleared his voice. “In any event…” He started and he seemed more uptight, if that was possible. “Percy…ah…you have been incredibly patient, kind and despite your lack of experience regarding archiving…we decided to show our appreciation.”

“Here you go, this is from me.” Martin handed over something he had hidden behind his back. “S-sorry, I didn’t have time to wrap this properly.”

Percy opened a brown paper package. There was a hand-knitted scarf in light blue, accompanied with a pair of gloves in matching colour. He looked at Martin, unable to form words. 

“I really liked the notebook for poetry, by the way. Thanks.” The bigger ginger said with a warm smile. “And the little card where you wrote “happy hanukkah”, that was really thoughtful.”

“And I am next.” Sasha smiled and gave him another present, it was wrapped very neatly in light green paper with a red ribbon. “Happy Christmas, Percy.”

He opened it and it revealed…it was a large teacup in yellow. It looked comically large and Percy suspected it would take him an hour to finish that kind of cup of tea. “Oh, thank you so much, Sasha.” He smiled.

“No problem. And I really liked those boots. How did you know my shoe size?”

Percy hadn’t known, it was just a lucky guess because the thought of one particular size had just appeared in his mind and he wasn’t able to shake it off. So he stuck with it and now it turns out, it was Sasha’s correct shoe size.

“Um…lucky guess, I assume?” Percy said and tried to not think more about it. 

Jon came forward, he looked incredibly stiff and awkward at once. “W-well, you have been a benevolent boss, despite your inexperience and young age, and I enjoy working under you. S-so this is my gift for you.”

He handed over a package in purple wrapping paper (which wasn’t well wrapped and had too many scotch tapes). Percy opened it and it revealed a strange device with metal spheres held up by thin, wire-like strings. 

“What is this?”

“It…ah…it’s called a Newton’s Cradle. It’s purpose is to destress and help you focus on something else. It demonstrates the conservation of momentum and the conservation of energy with swinging spheres. See here…” Jon took up and held it upright. 

Then he took a hold of one of the metal spheres and then he released it. The sphere struck at the other ones, which pressure created a force that pushed the other sphere at the other end up, letting it strike the other metal spheres. Over and over, in a strangely tranquil motion that kept repeating until it finally went still.

And Percy felt so…calm. Like how his always overactive brain finally was…silent enough to gather his thoughts and let him focus, for once. It felt easier to breathe oxygen now. His nerves was no longer on fire and his heartbeat actually slowed down, compared to how his heart kept racing all the time.

“Huh.” Percy said and smiled. “That actually worked, watching this Newton’s Cradle. I assume it was named after the physicist Isaac Newton, right?”

Jon nodded. “It was a little…ah, hard to find a suitable gift for you. And I remembered you have been stressed for a long time.”

Percy turned to Tim, who stood in front of him and he was grinning ridiculously big. “Hello, Tim.” He sighed.

“Heeeey, young bossman.”

“It’s still Percy, Tim.”

“Anyways!” Tim smirked. “You are going to love this!”

“I…am bracing myself for whatever you have planned for me, Stoker.” Percy snarked. “Especially after your little Halloween prank.”

“Aw, come on. It was a joke.” Tim shrugged casually. “Here’s my gift, enjoy!” He pressed a package into his hands.

It was heavy and big and it nearly made Percy fall over. “For Merlin’s sake, what is even inside it?!” He exclaimed.

Tim just grinned ridiculously, as ever. “Just open it!” He sing-sang.

Percy had no choice than to rip off the sloppily wrapped present and he set it down at a coffee table, staring at it in shock.

It was a typewriter. The very same one he had stopped by a store close to the institute and stared at, since late September and scolded himself for wanting something so expensive and unattainable. But to finally have it in his hands…this magnificent machinery, which could create anything that came from his mind, in steel blue.

“Tim…I-I…how can I ever…” Percy was at loss for words. How could he ever tell Tim, who had barely known him for six months, that this was something he had dreamed about and wanted so intensely in his short life? And how was Tim ever able to afford an expensive thing like this?

Tim just smiled, it was soft and fond. “You’re not that subtle, sometimes. Me and Sash saw you once, when we were waiting by the bus stop after work and you were just standing there in the rain, staring at it as if you were starving to death and looking at a buffet table.

Well, that was a simile that was strangely accurate to how he felt about the typewriter.

“I-I can never thank you enough, Tim…” Percy whispered.

“Hey, now. No worries. After what we went through, I decided that you need a little something that makes you happy! Maybe you will write a whole book about what happened to us, then you get all rich and famous!”

“Tim, we can absolutely not do that.” Jon scoffed. 

“E-either way, thank you so much…” Percy told him sincerely and tried to ignore his heart that kept fluttering in joy and affection, warm as the summer sunshine and light as a single feather in the wind-

“Okay, enough now.” Percy muttered to himself as he reflected on the past event of this evening. His face felt incredibly hot, his ears burned as fire and he felt nervous, somehow exposed. His heart kept beating so fast and jittery inside his chest.

This crush was getting out of hand.

Percy sighed as he changed into his sleeping clothes and pulled the covers up to his face. 

As much as he believed himself to be smart and occasionally resourceful…

Love was a matter he had always been less than mediocre at. Especially since he fancied men.

In particular, a certain strong built young man with honey tanned skin, dark blue eyes and the most charming laughter in the world. A man named Tim Stoker.

‘Tim could have anyone in the world. He’d never look twice at someone like me.’ Percy thought to himself and sighed. He was officially pining, now.

Chapter Text

“It’s not the end of the world.” Remus reminded Sirius.

“Well, it feels exactly like it.”

“He has to return to school. You can’t expect him to stay here forever either.”

This discussion started on Boxing Day and Percy decided to not meddle into this kind of business. It was rather that Sirius was starting to mope again, because his godson had to return to Hogwarts once the holidays were over. And frankly, Percy was a little sad over the fact that he had to do the same to his younger siblings.

He won’t see them until June, after all and it was six months until then. 

‘Goodness, is this how my parents felt all the time when we returned to school after summer and Christmas?’ Percy thought to himself. WHen he worked his first and only year at the Ministry, he barely reacted because he was thrown into a position he was not ready for at all but still carried on his duty because he didn’t want to disappoint Mr Crouch or his parents so badly.

He had still seen his younger brothers and Ginny at Hogwarts, at the Yule Ball and struggled with his current situation at the time, so there wasn't actually a lot he could’ve said. Besides, it wouldn’t make a difference.

For the first time in a long while…Percy felt a little sad to say goodbye to his younger siblings.

“It’s a normal reaction, you know.” Sasha said. “Look, I don’t have siblings at all, but you’re a constant in their lives. They’ve always been used to you being there.” 

“Yes, I suppose so.” Percy said slowly. “I think it has hit them that I’m not going with them back to the castle and now, they’re all acting so odd.”

“Well, maybe because the last time they left for school without you, you turned up nearly half-dead at Christmas.”

Once again, that did make him feel a little guilty. 

Then again, Fred and George being so nice to him made him slightly paranoid. Out of experience, Percy knew that he really should worry when his twin brothers didn’t perform any pranks on him or made jokes at his expense.

It wasn’t until near dinner time, when Percy finally lost his nerve and shouted “Why are you so nice to me?! WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING?!” before running out.

Harry looked confused at the twins. “What was that about?”

“Oh, we’re just punishing.”

“For nearly dying-”

“-and then saying it’s fine.”

“Ever heard of the phrase-”

“Kill them with kindness?”

Bill glared at them. “You two are terrible, terrible monsters. No wonder Percy is always annoyed with you two.” He scolded them and went after Percy, to calm him down. 

Turns out that he didn’t had to. 

Bill looked into the sitting room and saw…Percy talking to Tim. 

Huh.

He knew that look. Percy was calmer but he was looking at his assistant with such fondness, a warm emotion in his eyes and he swore to Merlin, he had never seen Percy look at someone in that way before. 

Honestly, he had no idea that his little brother was swinging that way, but he didn’t complain either. After all, he had many friends in his school years who were queer (since being queer was more accepted in the wizarding society than social status…which was a bullshit system) and still are, to this day.

But if he knew his little brother right…then Percy would worry about this until the end of the world. He was such a little ball of pure anxiety.

“Blackwood…” Sirius muttered.

It was past midnight and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. As far as he knew, and he had gotten acquainted with the modern wizarding society with Percy’s help, there were no wizarding family named Blackwood. 

…he had a suspicion, though. Once Martin had revealed his grandfather’s name as Marius, a name turned up in his head. 

Marius Black, who was disowned and cast away from the family for being a Squib. It would be easy to change the surname, back in the 1940s. The very last time anyone had seen him was when he left the family officially in 1943. He never sent letters, never saw anyone else and his status was unknown.

It wasn’t entirely impossible for Marius Black marrying, having children and grandchildren. The only problem was that the Ministry (once again, they prove to be worthless idiots) didn’t keep any records of Squibs, so it was impossible to check if Marius Black was really Marius Blackwood.

Against his better judgement, Sirius had been searching through the whole Black library and came up with nothing. He had no idea why he was even so worked up about this. Was he that desperate to find any good, decent part of his family?

And if it turned out that Martin and Jenny Blackwood were related to him…he would be very pleased because he would be related to one of the finest Squibs he’s gotten to know (even if he had only known Martin for a day or so).

“Sirius, it’s way past midnight.” Remus sighed as he entered the library. “You should sleep.”

“As should you and yet, here we are.” Sirius snarked back at his friend with a smirk. 

The werewolf looked at the library and raised an eyebrow. “Remember when you once told me that if you would be the slightest interested in family history, I would hex you until you didn’t know your own name?”

“I’m taking a page from our young archivist’s book and doing research. ” Sirius shot back. “That name Blackwood is on my mind the whole time. There is something about those two.”

“And it’s not because you’ve gotten a little fond of Percy’s friends?” Remus suggested. 

“You know I’m right about these things, Moony.”

“No, you aren’t.” Remus rolled his eyes. “You have never been right about anything you assume. Do I need to remind you that every time I’ve told you to not do something, you do it anyway?”

“Well, it’s a bad idea to enforce rules on me and you know that.”

“...thank Merlin for Percy, in that case. Without his presence, I’m sure you would’ve gone mad in this house and tried to go outside.” Remus sighed and picked up a book, flipping through the pages. “Hm…how common are Seer abilities, do you think?”

“Pretty rare.” Sirius said. “The last one in the Black family to have the Sight was Cedrella Black, Arthur Weasley’s mother. Why do you wonder?”

Remus looked in the book in his hands; a hand-written journal with the drawing of a pendant that had a symbol he had seen before. And if his memory served him correctly…then he had seen the same pendant two years ago, when he taught at Hogwarts, around the neck of a certain redhaired archivist.

“No reason.” Remus said.

Jon was vaguely overwhelmed by the whole “magic exists separately from the normal world” thing. But it didn’t take that long for him to understand why and the man Percy lived with, Sirius Black, had been nice enough to explain things for him.

Once it was clear that he wasn’t going to get his memories erased and frankly, he had been so worried about that outcome. Because it’s not a small part to be erased. It would mean that he would forget six months of his life. 

He would forget everything about Percy, his existence, the archives, Prentiss, the worms…everything that happened in the past half year and that was horrifying! How could the wizarding world be so okay with erasing memories of Muggles, such as himself, and not even think about how this affects them later? 

Whatever this section 30 was…it had certainly protected him and Sasha from getting their memories erased. But he kept thinking about it. Why was it needed? 

Percy had told all about the Ministry of Magic, all the departments and how they work. The only department they had basically zero information about…was the Department of Mysteries.

“Top secret. No one knows what is going on there and not even the Minister knows.” Percy had told him. “When the Auror Office comes across something that is…um, weird , even in the magic sense, the Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries come and take over the case.”

“Then, what are Unspeakables?”

“They work in the Department of Mysteries. No one knows what they’re up to.” Percy had shrugged. 

Jon understood exactly what Percy had sacrificed, in the moment of possible mortal death when they were being attacked by Prentiss. He was willing to expose himself as a wizard if it meant to save their lives and he appreciated that. 

Percy was much younger than he was and yet…he was a greater man than he could possibly become.

In the beginning, Jon had felt so jealous of his young boss. Percy had no qualifications or merits to become a head archivist and at nineteen years old! Both he and Sasha had applied for the position, but Elias had just chosen a young man out of the blue.

Then he found out that Percy had a family; he had parents that were still alive and six siblings. How can anyone like him ever feel alone or unsupported? And Elias showed such open, biased favouritism regarding Percy.

But during the last months…especially after Prentiss started to target them, Jon finally saw Percy for who he was. He was, in the eyes of both the magic society and their society, an adult but he barely knew upside down of what to do. He was nineteen years old, he was thrown into a difficult position at his former job which he managed more than just good, he got into trouble for something that wasn’t his fault and then got fired when he wouldn’t bend to their will.

Jon doesn’t know if Elias hired him out of pity or if he saw something more in Percy than they could see. But Percy was more than just “another Weasley son” as he called himself. 

Percy was very intelligent, academically speaking and he was a fast learner. He worked hard, he was dedicated, kind-hearted and he was clever. And he cared so much about his family and friends. He was willing to expose his magic and go to jail, if it meant saving their lives.

The world didn’t deserve Percy, Jon thought.

But now when he had spent the holidays in the presence of Percy’s family, he watched their dynamics and he tried to understand why Percy was so convinced of his lack of importance, when it was obvious that his family loved him.

As an only child, Jon didn’t understand why his siblings either teased him or was generally overbearing. Tim, on the other hand, had said that was a very normal thing and he teased Danny all the time. 

Jon decided that he wanted to know if Percy’s siblings meant it in a good-natured way. 

It wasn’t until the very last day of the holidays, where Percy realised there was something else going on with him. Something odd that certainly had nothing to do with his future visions. 

“It’s a horrible idea.”

Snape was apparently going to give Harry occlumency lessons. While he supported the idea, letting his former teacher in potions do it was a horrible, terrible idea.

“Well, I thought so too.” Sirius said. He was still sour about the whole thing and Percy had already scolded him for attempting to hex Snape. 

“First of all, you shouldn’t care what he says. You have given the Order so much valuable information and secondly, I don’t see him doing anything important.”

“As he constantly drags up, he is double agent and risks his life everyday compared to-”

“And that is his own damn fault.” Percy scoffed. “If Snape chose to become a Death Eater and then switches sides, then he has only himself to blame for his situation.”

Sirius then snickered at that, probably the first time he’s seen him smile since Boxing Day. “You have a lot of opinions, don’t you?”

“Yes, I have.” Percy said simply. “Besides, he is biased and he isn’t going to be fair to Harry. I know that Snape used to teach occlumency to someone I knew, but it was a different time and situation. Now, if she had been here…it would’ve been her teaching Harry instead of Snape.”

Siris raised an eyebrow. “Alright, exactly who are you talking about? I feel like I’m in the dark about this girl you talk about. And you talk as if she’s dead.”

“Cassidy Mercury.” Percy answered. “I…I really thought she had been mentioned, but apparently not. Anyways, she isn’t dead but she’s been missing for nearly five years. She was Charlie’s girlfriend and a very close friend to my family.”

“Cassidy Mercury, you’re saying?” Sirius said and his tone surprised Percy. 

“Yes…do-do you know her?”

Sirius didn’t answer at first, he seemed deep in thoughts and he frowned. It was almost as if he realised that he had forgotten something of great importance. “...I think I do.”

Then Sirius stalked off somewhere in the house to find Remus, he wanted to talk about something and Percy was left alone, still confused about this change. 

‘Either way…I don’t support the idea of Snape teaching occlumency to Harry. It’s going to end horribly wrong.’ He thought to himself and wondered if he could find some helpful books about the subject, so Harry could get a better picture about it than Snape could possibly explain.

Why Snape was even a teacher when he hated children was still beyond his sense of logic, it didn’t make any sense at all. However, he didn’t dwell more on it as his father had finally gotten to return home from St. Mungos and it felt as if he could finally breathe out. 

So he went to find his father. It turns out that he was far too happy talking to his assistants, particularly Jon and Sasha. 

“So a rubber duck is nothing more than a toy?” Mr Weasley exclaimed while Sasha smiled. 

“Correctly, sir. It doesn’t have any special function, it’s literally just a toy you play with in water activities.”

“Marvellous! Absolutely fantastic!”

Percy couldn’t help himself to smile at his antics. He could trust his own father to be excited over a simple muggle toy and now, they had finally figured out the enigma about the rubber duck. But he knew his father well enough that he was going to find some other Muggle device to ponder and try to figure out, it was only a matter of time. 

“Oh, there you are!” His father finally noticed his presence. “Percy, my boy, I have finally uncovered the secrets of the rubber duck!”

“I can see that, Dad.” Percy said fondly. “Seems like you are having fun. Is there something I’ve missed out on?”

“Your father is having fun, asking us about toys.” Jon said, he seemed terribly bored but too polite to decline his involvement. “Jenny and Martin have gone outside to a nearby café, apparently they are to meet their grandfather who is on visit. And I have no idea where Tim is.”

For reasons that Jon and Sasha would never understand due to being only-child-orphans, those words chilled him to the bone. He didn’t see his twin brothers in sight either. He already knew that Ron and Ginny were with Harry and Hermione.

“I need to go.” Percy suddenly said and left the dining room, rushing upstairs in hot pursuit after Tim or his twin brothers. 

Because he had always believed that if they met and even bonded, his life was officially over. 

Exactly ten minutes later, Percy wondered if you could retire from life at all.

“What are you two up to?”

He didn’t need to look for them for much longer, because his annoying brothers decided to apparate right behind him and nearly gave him a heart attack. Percy narrowed his eyes at fred and George who wore identical wide grins. 

“Nothing, dear brother.”

“Why, we are wounded-”

“-that you mistrust us so much.”

“It’s obvious that he has no faith in us.”

“So sad.”

“So terrible.”

“Ugh.” Percy groaned. “Can’t you two ever get to the point? You’re giving me a headache.”

“We just wanted to give you this!”

Both of them handed over an envelope to Percy. He examined it carefully, he had lived with them his whole life and therefore, he was very suspicious. “What are you two up to…” He muttered.

Alas, curiosity killed the cat and unfortunately, Percy was too curious to let this slide. SO he opened it.

BOOM

The letter exploded his entire face with a pink smoke bomb and confetti flew around him like a cheerful rainshower. And there was only a card that said “Gotcha! ;)”.

Percy snorted.

Fred and George laughed.

“Your boyfriend said we needed to have funnier pranks-”

“-but not the ones that humiliate.”

“Here you go!” They finished in union.

Percy shook his head, trying to get rid of the glitter and the confetti when his brain finally registered what they just said.’

“What the…no! NO! He’s not…that is not what we are…Tim is not my bloody boyfriend!” 

Fred and George just grinned more.

“But you like him!”

“Wha-no! Where-where did you get that idea from?!” Percy stammered and tried to force down the irritating heat growing in his face. 

“You love him!” They insisted, the twins looked as if they'd gotten an unexpected, belated Christmas gift.

Oh, for Merlin’s sake…

“ I don’t love him!” He nearly shrieked.

“Percy and Tim~! Percy and Tim~!”

“Oh, that is so mature. Really grown up.” Percy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe I nearly died for this family…” He muttered.

When Martin and Jenny returned from meeting with their grandfather, Martin wanted to meet with Sirius alone for reasons Percy didn’t know but he supposed it was a matter they needed to talk about. 

“W-well.” Martin started, feeling a little awkward around the notorious, apparently innocent Sirius Black. “So…our grandad explained some things to me and Jenny.” he fidgeted with his hands. “A-and it turns out that he used to be…Marius Black. H-he changed his name…when he was disowned for being a Squib…long ago.”

There was an awkward silence.

“You know what, I nearly figured it out.” Sirius said, as he was taking it very well and in all honesty, he had hoped it was the case. “I’m pure-blood, so I know all the wizard families, that was all I constantly heard about as young.” He added, slightly bitter about his upbringing. “Also you mentioned that your grandfather was named Marius, it made me wonder if he and Marius Black were the same person.”

Martin nodded, not knowing what to say. “W-well…he said that we could trust you. Not-not that he has met you, but he knows Dumbledore and he said that Grandad could trust you, so…yeah.”

“Well, it’s good to meet you, Martin.” Sirius said kindly. “So we are related. Distantly, of course.”

“I-it’s kinda nice, to know that we have other relatives. I mean, my grandad never talks about his family and Mum is…well, she isn’t well and she doesn’t mean what she says-”

“Do you honestly believe that?” Sirius asked.

“What?”

“You keep making excuses for her.” Sirius pointed out. “Look, I don’t know who she is, but I’ve been in that situation and I know more than enough to understand where this is going.”

Martin narrowed his eyes, not answering at first. “Jenny tattled, didn’t she?”

“I wouldn’t call it “tattle”, more that she’s being very honest about her upbringing.”

Martin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, look. I know it looks bad , but it’s not as if we have any choice in the matter. Mum…she has done and said things that she obviously doesn't mean. I-I mean, she must love us…deep down.”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Sirius asked.

Martin stared at him, as if he had grown three extra heads. “I-I mean, Grandad was a little angry at her some years ago. But she isn’t well, I’m sure she doesn’t know what she’s doing-”

“Martin, stop making excuses for her.” Sirius was running out of patience. “I want to know what you feel about this. Jenny has told me what is going on in her home, she had a breakdown when you were attacked by worms. She was under the belief that you were going to die.”

“Wait, what? She hasn’t told me this before!” Martin exclaimed. 

“And I’ve already dealt with that, she is okay. But you need to know that she had a panic attack, she kept ranting about your mother hating you and her and your grandfather is never there. That is why I need to know what exactly is going on.”

“...fine.” Martin sighed. “Like I said, our mum isn’t well and she may have done things that aren't…good, to either of us.” He finally admitted it and it was almost as if he had a new epiphany about it. “...she isn’t good to either of us.”

Suddenly, it was as if all the floodgates had been opened. The barriers, which Martin had kept up and being in denial about what was happening, had finally broken. He was so sure he was able to make her see that they were her children…that they would be good enough. 

“I really thought she would be better.” Martin said forlornly. 

Sirius didn’t know what to say at first and he felt awful about pushing the subject. He had been worried about Jenny and how she dealt with this and he was wallowing in guilt, for leaving his little godson in the hands of the worst muggles in history and he was still forced to do it, because of his status as falsely accused for a crime he didn’t commit.

He had thought that maybe he could make a difference for Martin and Jenny, that maybe he could at least save these two. But right now…he felt as if he had only done it worse.

“Sorry.” Sirius then said. “For pressing you about this. Your sister is…well, I was worried about what would happen to her, if you had died. I’m not comfortable with seeing a child heading to a home where she could be hurt.”

“It-it’s okay, I get. I get it now.” Martin said slowly, looking down. “God, I have really let her down, haven’t I? I thought since she didn’t seem to be affected that much.”

“Look, I don’t like to talk about it or even address it, but I get it. You’re so sure that if you do better, if you become perfect, then your mother will love you and everything’s gonna be okay. But here is the sad reality; it won’t happen. I know because…” he swallowed, as if he just ate something incredibly bitter and nasty. “That's what I tried to do, my whole childhood. I was supposed to be the perfect heir, but then I went against everything I was taught. They resorted to abuse me, when I wouldn’t bend to their will.”

Martin took a shaky breath. “Does it ever get better? Now when I’ve…stopped denying.”

“Wish I could tell you that, but honestly? I have no fucking clue.” Sirius said and took a sip from his glass. “I think…you need to think about what is best for you and Jenny. Especially Jenny. She is…autistic, isn’t she?”

“...yes.” Martin confirmed it. “Y-you know, she got diagnosed with autism when she was seven. Grandad took her to this muggle doctor and I thought that fitting in, even in the muggle world, would be so difficult.  And then she got her letter. I knew that meant that she’s going to have a much harder time fitting in.” Martin took a shaky breath, trying to not let himself cry.

In truth…he felt shame. He felt embarrassed and ashamed of himself, for being an idiot and trying to believe that everything was fine, that his upbringing was fine and it was just temporary. But now when Sirius had laid out the cruel reality to him…it wasn’t fine.

It was never going to be fine.

And his denial would cost Jenny, his precious little sister, so much. To find out that she had broken down, in a moment of weakness and fear…it was hard to hear, as both her brother and her guardian. She didn’t have anyone else.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” Sirius told him, offering a gentle and kind smile. “You do know that I am innocent, by the way.”

“Thereabout. Percy told us about it and assured us that you were falsely accused for…well, I know what it is about. I followed Daily Prophet, even if I didn’t like it and my grandad insisted on it. But well…you know, there are holes in the information given to the public. Besides, you can’t always trust everything the paper writes about.”

Sirius smiled a little. “He’s a good man, that Percy. I admit that I thought of him as a stickler for rules, goody two shoes. But later I began to know him and I realised this was a clever, kind and a very brave young lad.”

Martin chuckled. “W-we would’ve been dead without him…he saved Sasha. He protected us from Prentiss…he was ready to get his wand snapped in half or be sent to prison, for our sake. He didn’t care what happened to him, if it meant that we survived and lived.”

“Do me a favour and look after him at the job, then?” Sirius asked. “I can’t do much when I’m confined in this cursed house…but he needs someone sensible to look after him. Because Merlin be damned, he might let himself get chased or nearly eaten by another monster.”

“Well, I can promise to do my best to look after him.” Martin said determinedly. “He is, after all, one of my best friends.”

The holidays have officially come to an end and as all good things must eventually end, it was time to say goodbye. 

Ginny hit Percy hard on the arm before she pulled him into a hug. “I don’t wanna hear that you nearly die again, okay!”

“I promise, I will try my best to not die.” Percy said, embracing her back. He had decided to not tell his family about the tape he had recorded, in the case of his evident death. He had hidden it, locked it in that old jewellery box along with the strange locket with the serpent.

“Don’t worry, I will look after him!” Tim said and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Percy tried to fight the heat growing in his cheeks and ears, forcing down a smile and would his stupid heart stop beating so fast?!

“A-anyways, I have something to tell you. All four of you!” He said and looked at his younger sibling. “Don’t pick fights with Umbridge and I mean it! You can’t defeat her by openly defying her, with logic or advanced pranks.”

“We can always try~!” Fred and George smirked.

“Are you deaf? I just told you to not do it!” Percy snapped and narrowed his eyes. “Fred. George. I mean it. You can’t defeat her.” He shook his head and looked at Ron. “Okay, try your best to avoid attention, okay? Remember that you are in charge of these fools, Ron!”

“Like they’re gonna listen.” Ron scoffed.

“Well, try to threaten them. Lock their dorm rooms. Take points. Scare them with the flesh-eating worms…I don’t care. You need to make sure that none of you gets into trouble.” Percy told him firmly. “The same goes for Ginny, I don’t have so much faith in her anymore.”

“But I am your favourite!” Ginny protested.

“Says who? Maybe I decided Ron is my favourite now.”

“I’m gonna get you, Percy.” Ginny threatened him with a shark-like grin.

“Oh, you just try. ” Percy smirked down at her. “I am the Head Archivist-”

“There he is-!” Fred snickered.

“With the pompous voice again!” George laughed.

Percy rolled his eyes. “Oh, why don’t you two try to come back with new material, for once. If you’re going to mock me, don’t use the same thing twice.”

“Aye aye, captain.” They said in union with wide grins.

The third eldest son sighed. What was he going to do about these two clowns?

“In any event, send letters with Hermes.” He advised. “He’s a wise owl and can avoid Umbridge. And I always enchant my letters, so no one else except you can read them. Hm…yes, I think that is all. Oh, and I have already sent you a binder of all my notes from my OWL and NEWT exams. Don’t copy, but rather learn from them and form your own opinions. I hope it will help.”

“Mione sure acted as if you’ve proposed or something, she’s in love with those notes and has probably composed a book of them now.” Ron said dryly.

“Well, it certainly doesn’t hurt to learn from her.” Percy pointed out. “Oh and please, make Harry look at them too. I know he would want to succeed, even with everything going on. I’m going to send career options as well, so keep an eye out for my owl.”

“Remind us again why you didn’t go for teaching?” Ginny smirked. 

“Because the Ministry screwed me over and I just don’t have that much faith in our society anymore.” Percy scoffed.

“I don’t know about the others, but I love you more now.” Ginny said. “You’re so sassy and you throw shit at the Ministry, it’s funny!”

“Please, don’t repeat that at school. You will get into trouble.” Percy pleaded with her. Since summer last year, he had come to the sad realisation that Ginny was more of a handful than Fred and George ever was (and he had always thought that was impossible). 

But at once…he was also relieved that he was no longer a school prefect, so he didn’t have to deal with it.

“No promises.” Ginny grinned.

Percy hugged all his siblings one last time (they would want hugs, no matter what he said). He was about to hug Hermione as well, when she asked him if he was okay with hugs. He was briefly shaken, but after a moment of consideration, he decided he was okay with touching and hugged her. 

Harry was very awkward about hugs, but accepted one anyways (Percy knew it probably it was because he never received any hugs as a child). Besides, Harry seemed more preoccupied worrying for his godfather.

He glanced at his assistants, watching Jenny being embraced by her brother Martin. Tim and Danny hugged before making a fistbump together. And once they stepped outside, to take the Knight Bus back to Hogwarts…and then they were gone.

Percy had waved goodbye to his siblings and their friends, before the door closed, and he felt so…forlorn. It was strange. Last year, he had been so busy with his work at the Ministry that he didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. But now…he really felt saddened by seeing them off.

“Percy?” Sasha asked, watching her young boss look so down. “What’s the matter?”

Percy sighed heavily. “Everything has really changed, hasn’t it? I’ve never even noticed that my siblings…they are growing up in the castle without me. Sooner or later…they won’t need me anymore.”

“Look, maybe I don’t have siblings, but I don’t think they’ll always need you.” Sasha pointed out. “You’re their brother, they were really scared and upset when you were hurt from the worms. Besides, there is a war going on.”

Percy had hoped that his assistants wouldn’t get dragged into this mess, but it stood clearer now than ever, that they were in this together. Either they’ll swim or sink.

He sincerely hoped they wouldn’t sink.

Chapter Text

The Magnus Institute became closed off until the middle of January and in that time, Percy was growing bored at Grimmauld Place.

Eventually, his assistants needed to get to their respective homes to handle their business and per Elias’ orders, to rest from Prentiss’ attack. Percy had walked to London’s public library to borrow a computer, so he could access his digital emails. 

From: elias. [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Regarding the Archival Department

 

Dear, Percival. 

 

I hope you and your assistants have had a pleasant holiday period and I hope 1996 will become significantly calmer, now that the threat has been eliminated. However, the state of the archives are still in disarray and they will remain closed as we’re taking the chance to renovate the department. All your personal possessions and current workload has been moved into marked boxes.

 

Unfortunately, the institute will remain closed until approximately January 20th-25th. Do not worry about your finances, that is being handled by the Finance Department, and you should take the time to relax. Do pass on the word to your assistants.

 

Have a pleasant day.

 

Elias Bouchard, head of the Magnus Institute. 

 

VIGLIO. AUDIO. OPPERIOR.

Well, it seemed like he didn’t have anything else to do than to wait. 

But he was growing stir-crazy. Percy found himself often wide-awake at nights, staring up in the four poster bed in his room. 

Jon has returned to his apartment, so has Sasha and Tim. Martin was visiting his mother (for reasons Percy didn’t understand but respected). They had their own places and they paid monthly rents and bills. Percy suddenly realised how privileged he was. 

He sat up in his bed. ‘I need to find out. Something killed Gertrude Robinson, the previous head archivist…how can I just take it easy when there is so much to find out?’

Gertrude Robinson…Percy had never given a single thought to his predecessor before. Maybe he should’ve done it? In any event, he needed to find out who she was.

The next morning, Percy had a somewhat light breakfast with only toast (he was never very hungry, sometimes) before he left the house. Sirius had been a more pleasant company, now that they managed to get rid of the horrible painting of his mother and the former had regained some sanity and peace of mind.

At the public library, Percy found a large, thick book with all the telephone numbers and addresses of exactly anyone. He quickly looked up the address of Gertrude Robinson and decided to take a look around.

Gertrude Robinson had an apartment, even if the lease has been unpaid for several months since she went officially “missing”. Percy thought about pay a little visit and see if there’s anything that can clue him in on her disappearance. 

‘This is breaking and entering…’ Percy thought to himself as he climbed up the fire escape of the building. He was sneaking into Gertrude Robinson’s apartment and he had been impatient nearly all day, waited until it became dark and gave Sirius a half-assed excuse that he was exploring a typical Muggle library.. ‘Mother would be so angry at me and Dad would be disappointed. But I have good reasons…perhaps I could afford a good lawyer?’

He finally reached the window of his destination. He looked around himself, there was no one here and it was practically abandoned at this hour. He waved with his wand and whispered “Alohomora.” . The window was unlocked. 

Percy climbed inside and waved with his wand, casting a non-verbal Lumos.  

It was frightening to break into another person’s home, even if they hadn’t been in there for ages. The shadows seemed larger and he kept feeling watched, the pricking feeling at his neck travelled down his spine and made him shudder.

His hand dug into the pocket of his dark blue jacket (the one Sirius had given him for Christmas) and pulled up a tape recorder, pressing on the red button to record. 

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST

Right…this is a supplement by Percival Weasley, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. I am investigating, regarding my predecessor Gertrude Robinson’s disappearance and eventual death. This is probably very questionable but…I broke into her flat.

I learned a few things from this. Firstly, Gertrude had a very minimalist lifestyle. There was nothing in the kitchen except teabags, a pot, kettle, and a single mug. Her bed was neatly made and she had a single bookshelf filled with an array of volumes, mostly on history. Judging by the bag I found nearby, I think she must have gotten rid of books once she had read them.

I can’t imagine why, though. P-personally, books have been the one passion in my life I could count on. But…maybe everyone doesn’t feel the same.

In any event, I don’t seem to find anything of vast interest. There are no personality in this flat and not even photographs of family members.

I looked through a handful of books on her shelf. They were very well taken care of, with the exception that anytime a person’s face was featured on the cover, their eyes had been cut out and very carefully removed. 

This just keeps giving me more questions than questions being answered, in fact. It just dawned to me how little I know about Gertrude Robinson. 

I didn’t stay long, since I couldn’t find any concrete information about Gertrude Robinson. I did, however, find an address book with very few contacts. Most of them seem to no longer be alive, judging by the strike through their respective names. I am currently safe in my room at Grimmauld Place and looking through this thing. 

There is Elias, of course. But I doubt he will answer my questions at this hour. But there is something that catches my eye. It’s a contact named “A.D” and the address isn’t a residence, but a simple café close to the institute. 

I think I will pay a visit tomorrow.

End supplemental.

[CLICK]

The next morning, Percy went outside without breakfast with the full intention to buy one in the café he was going to. He had copied the address from Gertrude’s contact book and went outside in the cold January morning, looking around. 

Once again, he used the dark blue puffer jacket and as an attempt to blend in (which was apparently not hard in the muggle world), he was wearing a maroon turtleneck sweater and dark trousers.

Percy wasn’t inclined to walk for an hour to Chelsea, so he found the nearest Underground station and took the Tube. Public transport was a welcome relief when you had to travel far and without all the hassles of finding the correct fireplace connected to the floo system or apparating. It was somewhat comfortable, as Percy had found himself a seat inside the crowded carriage, and he stole glances at all these muggles, travelling to their workplaces, universities or schools.

He got off at the South Kensington station and took a stroll, once he exited the Underground. He pulled up the little note he had written the address of the café and went looking around. 

As it turns out, he didn’t have to look for much longer. Barely five minutes away from the Underground station, he found the name of the café. It was a corner café, it wasn’t big nor small in size. The sign cheerfully spelt out “Good Beans Diner” with a cartoon coffee bean that had a smiling face. 

That was cute.

Percy looked for any incoming cars or buses before he crossed the streets in a half-sprint. He pulled up the door and he heard a bell chime. A scent of fried sausages met him inside the café and he could hear a radio play 80s music. 

It was a rather charming coffee shop (or “diner”, as the sign said outside). Not a lot of patrons, just a group of university students took up a booth alone; three boys, two girls and they had open textbooks and notebooks sprawled on the table. 

The group looked up briefly, looking at Percy with vast interest. Percy flushed and kept his eyes away from them. The university students returned to their discussion, but kept low voices for some reason. 

He looked at the menu boards by the counter. Some interesting name choices for coffee or tea-based beverages. But that wasn’t all, there was a large variety of food dishes as well. 

“Howdy.”

Percy looked up and saw a man, probably in the same age range as Tim or Sasha. He had sun-tanned skin, blue eyes and blonde hair tied in a short ponytail. He was tall, very muscular and spoke with an American accent.

An American in London? What were the changes?

“Um…ah…hello?” Percy stammered out, trying to ignore how his face felt on fire. “I-I’m just looking around, never seen this place before-”

“Yeah, gotcha.” The man grinned and offered a hand to shake. Percy took it and gave it a weak shake. “Ryan Dallas, but everyone calls me Tex.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m from Texas.” Ryan smirked before he went to sort out the clean spoons in his hand, putting them in the front. “So where do ya swing?”

“P-pardon?!”

“Where ya swingin’. Guys? Gals? Both? None? Born in the wrong body, somehow?”

“Hey, Tex!” One of the boys, he was pale with black hair and big, squared glasses, from the university group called out. “I don’t think he knows what this café is for!” He also sounded American, but with a north atlantic accent instead of Tex’ southern drawl.

“Church, I know ‘cause I’m askin’!” Tex called back at him, slightly annoyed. “Damn nerd…always gettin’ on my nerves. Anyways, I dunno where ya swing, but if ya do, welcome.”

Then it suddenly clocked in his brain. “Is this…um, pardon for being so blunt, but is this a café for…uh, gay people?”

“Sure is.” Tex said cheerfully. 

Percy sighed. “...I’m gay, I think. Wasn’t ready to talk about it-”

“Okay, don’t. Don’t come out of the closet if you’re not ready. Church is just being a cynical asshat.”

Percy let his tense shoulders sink. “I…ah, I don’t?”

“Nope. Anyone can come in here. But the second a bigot start yappin’ about bein’ gay is a sin, this Texan is gonna show what happens.” He cracked his knuckles in a meaningful way. “So…a safe base for all queers.”

Percy looked around the café. Suddenly it didn’t feel so strange and frightening all of a sudden. He realised it would be rude to enter a café and not order anything. Percy dug up his wallet and brought out a couple of pounds. “Um…may I order a caramel latte?”

“One caramel latte comin’ up!”

That was how Percy found himself sitting on a barstool by the counter, with a large cup of a caramel latte in front of him and slowly enjoying his coffee drink. He watched the clock tick by and when he became hungry, he ordered some breakfast.

Tex introduced him to his own american-made pancakes…which were very fluffy and the Texan insisted that they were eaten with maple syrup. Percy had never experienced anything American in nature, but he found it very delicious (even though he knew that Mum would lightly scold him for the unhealthy breakfast option).

“Um, Tex?”

“Yep?” The radio music was done and instead, replaced by the sounds of a small, square TV sitting on the corner behind the counter. Tex was watching some kind of muggle sport that he had never heard of; the players were running on the ground, in bulky sports armour and playing with a small red ball on green grass.

“Have you ever heard of a lady named Gertrude Robinson?”

Tex snorted.

“If I have. The old lady was a frequent customer. Where did you think the “none” option came from?” Tex remarked. “Old hag gave me the creeps, as if she could see through my very soul.”

Percy had not expected that answer. “Oh, really? Did she meet someone here?” Tex looked at him, raising an eyebrow and Percy flushed. “She…she was my predecessor, at my workplace. We recently found out she was dead.”

“Oh.” Tex said and then he opened a draw, grabbing a zippo lighter and lit up a candle. “Shouldn’t talk ill of the dead, after all.” He said and picked up a toothpick, chewing on it. “I’m tryin’ to quit smokin’. Not so easy.” He said when he saw Percy’s non-verbal question. “Anyho. Yeah, she used to come in here. The old owner who sold the cafe to me said that she was a frequent customer, used to meet with some redhead. But then I took over and Gertrude used to meet with an older fella. Old man, white long hair and beard. Dressed really weird, like…hm, purple long gown and all that jazz but who am I to point fingers? Besides, he had cowboy boots once and I thought they were pretty neat.”

Percy had received more information than he had thought and he happily noted this down. “I’m trying to find out what happened to her. I work at the Magnus Institute closeby.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t say anythin’ to me.” Tex shrugged. “People get all weird whenever someone mentions that place. I asked once, but didn't get a straight answer. Some say it’s cursed. People make up rumours when they’re bored.”

Percy left the café, after bidding a fond goodbye to Tex, with a mind full of more questions than answers. Judging from what he found out, Gertrude was a frequent visitor to the café and she met with an old man. Without a doubt, it could be the identity of “A.D”. But he couldn’t come to any conclusions yet.

If the institute was open, he would run back and make some additions to his hidden board with red threads. 

—

When Percy returned to Grimmauld Place, he was pleased to open and close the door as he pleased (since he and Sirius had hidden away the horrible portrait of his mother). He went into the kitchen with the full intention to make himself a cup of tea while he picked out one of the books Ginny had given him.

He was in the mood of a good reading session. 

But then he saw Sirius, frowning at the open newspaper with a horrible expression. “What’s the matter?” He asked.

“Read.” Sirius said with a heavy sigh.

Percy took the newspaper (ugh, the Daily Prophet) and flipped to the front page. His blue eyes widened in horror.

Oh…oh gods, no. No.

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN

 

MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT'

 

FOR OLD DEATH EATERS

Percy stared at the moving pictures in black-and-white, of the escaped Death Eaters. This…this couldn’t be possible…it was impossible to break out of Azkaban! Maybe Sirius did, but no one knew that he was a animagnus and he hardly believed any of those were animagi.

The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.

 

Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.

 

“We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirus Black escaped,” said Fudge last night. “Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals, and we beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached.”

“Is he a goddamn fool!?” Percy exclaimed when he finished reading. “He’s going to get everyone killed like this!” He sank down on a chair in complete despair. He looked at the escaped convicts, taking mental notes of who they were and how dangerous they were. 

Ten Death Eaters…nine wizards and one witch. And there...was a wizard with a long, pale and twisted face and he sneered at the camera.

Antonin Dolohov, convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.

That face…Percy realised that he knew that face from somewhere. Like a repressed memory from a nightmare long ago, almost as if his own subconscious didn’t want to let him remember.

Algernon Rookwood , said the caption beneath a pockmarked man with greasy hair who was leaning against the edge of his picture, looking bored, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic secrets to He Who Must Not Be Named.

Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom.

And then Percy realised that he’s made a severe miscalculation. Not ten Death Eaters has escaped…it was eleven.

Last on the list was another witch. A certain woman Percy had been haunted by his dreams and past memories since he was a thirteen year old boy. It was a woman with long orange hair, it had gone mangy and grey, and blue eyes, dull and nearly dead. Her face had gone pale as a skeleton with hollow cheekbones, but her lips were curled up in a cruel smirk.

Patricia Rakepick, confirmed agent of He Who Must Not Be Named. Convicted of the murders of two Hogwarts students Duncan Ashe and Rowan Khanna, of the torture of several Hogwarts students and of the attempted murder of Cassidy Mercury and one unnamed boy.

Percy couldn’t stop staring at the moving picture of Rakepick. She was back…she was back and out there…

“Does…do they know, my family?” Percy asked.

“I would guess they do.” Sirius said bitterly, not seeing Percy’s own reactions as he had his back turned when he filled the tea kettle with water. “Your father certainly keeps up the subscription to the newspaper.”

“He says that every sentence of false insurance contains one grain of truth and I believe him.” Percy confirmed. Bill must know. He must’ve found out that Rakepick is out there…and they need to alert Charlie as well.

He had hoped that she would never get out, but now she has. Rakepick was out there, doing who knows what and if his suspicions were correct, then it meant she hadn’t given up on what she had planned to do with him.

If he didn’t watch his back…then he was in danger. 

Because the unnamed boy she had attempted to murder…was him.

The only ones who knew were his older brothers and Cassidy, they had kept quiet about it for his sake.

Percy was honestly relieved to return to work, on January 23rd, so he could let himself be distracted by work and not think about the mass outbreak of Death Eaters. But he needed to warn his assistants of this potential danger, he needed them to stay safe.

That was why the first thing he did was to type in an urgent message to their pager devices.

Urgent meeting. Break room. 10.00

He went up and walked into the break room. His assistants were already sitting around the smaller table. 

[CLICK]

SASHA

Is there a reason why you called us on the pager instead?

TIM

You’re okay? You look kinda pale.

ARCHIVIST

I…ah…I’m fine. Just fine. I just need to talk to all of you. 

MARTIN

Is-it’s not about the Daily Prophet, is it?

JON

The daily what?

ARCHIVIST

The name of our newspaper and yes, that is exactly it, Martin. (clears throat) Last night, there was a massive breakout from a prison that usually has maximum security. Eleven dangerous convicts of…ah, my kind, are at the loose. 

TIM

Well, f-

ARCHIVIST

Don’t swear! (sighs) Just…don’t swear, alright. I’m not comfortable with swearing because I will swear and that is the last thing my younger siblings need to hear from me. They’d be, without a doubt, delight but I would then be a bad influence.

Anyways, we’re getting off topic.

JON

So instead of some weird living hive to worry about, this time it is eleven insane convicts from a magical prison?

ARCHIVIST

(sighs heavily) Yes. Look, I really couldn’t have foreseen this and I know that is the last thing we need, especially so soon after the whole Prentiss disaster. But I need you to promise me to stay safe. Don’t trust just anyone out there. And…and if a woman who looks like a red-haired living corpse talks to you, don’t engage with her. Try to ignore her, walk to a crowded place or just spray something in her eyes.

(beat.)

No, this is impossible and I’m gonna get all of you killed in the end…

SASHA

Okay, before you jump on the whole self depreciation train, how dangerous are these convicts?

TIM

Let’s see…one is a spy and traitor, one extremely crazy bitch, another traitor bitch and the rest of them are crazy murderers and tortures for fun. 

ARCHIVIST

I just…(sighs) I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to protect you.

SASHA

How about we watch ourselves? Percy, we know you care about us and you risked so much for our sake when Prentiss attacked. But you don’t have to play noble hero and protect us all the time. We’re not entirely helpless!

ARCHIVIST

I know, I know! But these are evil wizards and witches, we’re talking about, and their leader is a downright psychopath. I don’t know how to handle this and I thought we only had to deal about the matter regarding Gertrude Robinson.

TIM

Oh, right…man, I forgot about that!

MARTIN

How do you forget a bloody corpse in the tunnels?!

TIM

Well, I just did, Martin! There was a lot going on when Prentiss sent killer worms on us and then our double boss dumped CO2 on us!

JON

(incredulously) So no one is really concerned how Gertrude wound up dead in the tunnels with three gunshots? There could be a murderer walking on the loose and now, there are wizard murderers on the loose!

ARCHIVIST

(snaps) Oh, relax. You’ll be fine! Whoever killed Gertrude won’t come after you, it’s the head archivist they will probably end! If I’m not dead before this year ends, it’ll be a fucking miracle!

[SILENCE]

S-sorry…that was, ah. That was really awful of me.

SASHA

Yeah, it was.

MARTIN

Come on, guys. He’s stressed.

TIM

Well, we’re stressed too and we don’t need Perce going on a suicidal spree-

ARCHIVIST

I am not suicidal!

JON

Well, you make it sound like that.

ARCHIVIST

Okay, I am not suicidal. I’m just very anxious about the recent events and how the hell I’m going to solve this. I need to protect you, it’s my responsibility!

TIM

But you don’t have to do this alone. We’re your assistants! Besides, you really think we’re gonna let you go off the deep end because you got it stuck in your head that you’re gonna take care of everything?

JON

(dryly) It’s literally in our contract to “assist the head archivist”.

MARTIN

Look, Percy. I know me and Tim can’t really fight against these convicts, much as Jon and Sasha can’t. But listen, you are not alone.

SASHA

Exactly as Martin said. You’re not alone and it’s not like we’re gonna let you die either!

ARCHIVIST

(very touched) You guys…thank you. I-I’ve been so focused on looking after you, to make sure you will remain safe…thanks.

SASHA

Anytime. 

By the way, why are you recording this?

ARCHIVIST

What?

TIM

The tape recorder’s on.

ARCHIVIST

I didn’t bring it here! Let me turn this off-

[CLICK]

Chapter Text

“Back at the prison again.”

Hermione looked strictly at Jenny. “Keep your voice down and you can’t say it like that.” She hissed while the group passed a smaller group of Ravenclaws who snickered at Jenny’s remark.

“But it’s the truth! This is a prison and we’re all the poor unfortunate souls being bullied by a fat witch.”

Harry snorted, trying to not burst out laughing.

“You’re not making a reference to Ursula from the Little Mermaid , are you?”

Jenny grinned. “I absolutely am!” She chirped.

“Like, the storybook?” Ron asked and Jenny shook her head. 

“No, it’s a movie. I’m gonna show you someday, but I could always borrow the little comic that retells the events of the movie.”

“I mean, I guess if the toad was much older and lived in the lake, the resemblance would be uncanny.” Harry muttered.

Hermione slapped her hands over her mouth, trying to not laugh at the mental picture of Umbridge as Ursula the Sea Witch. Her shoulders shook by the suppressed giggles.

“Poor unfortunate souls,” Jenny sang lowly, unable to stop grinning. “In pain, in need~”

The Gryffindor Tower was apparently the only place where they felt safe in general. It was always crowded on the evenings, nowadays, and because the majority of all clubs and organisations were disbanded (no thanks to the Toad) and hadn’t gotten permission to start again.

But all everyone talked about was the Azkaban breakout and suddenly all those, who were victimised by the convicts’ actions in the First War, were in the spotlight. 

“I think my dad is dead.” Jenny said one evening, out of the blue. The trio was sitting with her by the plush chairs near the fireplace. But their newest addition had been out of character lately, more than usual. 

Jenny was always focused whenever she did her homework and Potions was her best subject (and Harry yet needed to figure out how she even managed), but she didn’t even look at her subject for once. Her brown eyes looked ahead, nearly far away. 

“What makes you think that?” Hermione asked carefully.

“...he would’ve come back by now.” Jenny said. “I know he loved us, he must’ve done. I was so little to remember him, but I remember one thing. He said “never say goodbye”. Cause if you don’t say goodbye, then you’re not really gone. You’re just not here right now.”

Harry had absolutely no idea what to say to that. He looked at Ron who shrugged helplessly.

“Grandad seems to believe he’s dead. He said that my dad wasn’t a bad person…he was clumsy and had poor sense of direction, but he loved us…he loved me.” Tears welled up in her eyes and then ran down her freckled cheeks. “My mum’s wrong. He wouldn’t abandon us, not when all this happened.”

Hermione then abandoned her assignments and stood up. She walked over to Jenny, pulled her up from the chair by the hands and embraced her. She embraced Jenny, as if it was her own little sister who was currently crying.

“It’s okay to be sad, you know?” Hermione whispered. “It’s okay to cry about your dad, even if you can’t remember him. I’m sure he would be here for you and Martin.”

Jenny didn’t embrace her back, letting her arms hang at her sides for a while until she returned the comforting hug. 

When they separated, Jenny dried off her tears. “I’m gonna wash my face, then I’ll start on the Potions essay…” She mumbled and went off.

“What was that about?” Ron asked as soon as Jenny was out of earshot.

“She’s overwhelmed, Ronald.” Hermione said when she sat down on her seat and returned to her assignments. “Jenny is autistic, Martin said so, and now she feels too many emotions at once. She is confused and scared about everything changing. The breakout from Azkaban triggered something in her and now, she suddenly started to talk about her dad. She’s never mentioned him until now.”

Something clicked in Harry's mind. “She went with Martin to meet her grandad on Boxing Day, remember? She was a little strange after that. You don’t think she found out something about her dad?”

“All we know is that their mum’s abusive and in a care home, their grandad works in a weird american desert and their dad is just gone.” Ron pointed out. “She always talks about her brother and her grandad, but never about her dad. She has probably reached a breaking point now.” He added wisely.

Jenny always acts as if she’s confident and strong, with a hint of childish innocence, Harry thought to himself. But she isn’t invincible. She is very insecure about herself and since the news of the breakout, Jenny’s mask seems to have cracked…

Only to reveal a lonely and very sad little girl who still waited for her dad to come home.

It was the same dream once again, the one with the long, dark corridors and with the locked door in the end. He was so close to it and his hand reached to the knob, fingers were so close that he could practically feel the cool metal against the tip of his fingers-

Suddenly a hand wrapped around his wrist, stopping him. His eyes looked over at whoever caught him, expecting a sneering face with black eyes filled with the usual contempt and hatred-

Instead, he looked into a pair of green eyes, like pears, and it was a young face of a woman looking at him. 

“Don’t. What lies in there is very bad.” She said.

That voice…Harry knew that voice. It was the same pained voice from a while ago. 

And it was almost as if their surroundings had shifted. The dark corridors vanished and instead, he was standing in a large, spacious place with only the structure of a vault door with the thin veil inside. 

And she was still behind the veil, but with her hand grasped around his wrist. Not too hard, but firmly as if she was afraid to let go.

The shadows in her face, previously hard to see in his last dream, had vanished and it was the first time Harry could see her clearly, even through the veil. It was the same girl in the photo fred and George had shown him.

Cassidy Mercury.

“I interfered with whoever’s practising legilimency on you.” She said determined. “Pete’s keeping watch, so I won’t get injured while I’m doing this. That’s why you haven’t seen me in a while.”

“Wait, so you’re alive?!” Harry exclaimed.

Cassidy snorted but smiled. “Of course I am. I’m far too stubborn to let myself get killed. I haven’t come this far, just for some monster to finish me off.”

For some reason, when Cassidy flashed him a confident smile, Harry felt as if everything was going to be just fine. She had that impression and judging Percy's tales about her, he started to believe them now. This wasn’t just any role model Percy or the twins looked up to.

This was a hero.

“But…where are you if you’re not here?”

Cassidy’s expression turned grim. “I’m in a place where no one can reach. This vault with the gate, it’s a gateway to this nightmarish hellscape I’m trapped in, but if you try to pass it now…you might get killed. This is the one and true Cursed Vault and to pass through it, you need to unlock it fully. But you need to fulfil one important criteria to do so.”

“What is it?” Harry insisted. 

“Only someone who has willingly taken a step into a Cursed Vault can do it. I’m one of them, but there is another one.” She looked up at the veil that gently fluttered by an eerie wind. “I left him my journal, with all my instructions and findings, and my wand. He’s going to find me soon, I know he will.”

“But-” Harry started and Cassidy held up her other hand, stopping him.

“Have some faith.” She smiled. “I don’t know why you’re being targeted by legilimency, but it’s clear to me that your lessons in occlumency don't help.”

Harry scoffed. “I don’t believe Snape is helping by insulting me at every second he gets.”

“Snape, huh.” Cassidy said. “He taught me as well, but I guess you never learnt how to speak his language. I cracked the code when I was in my fourth year, it’s like a whole new language whenever you speak to him.” She added amusedly. “Take a look from my perspective.”

Something flashed and Harry saw a whole new scene, for a few seconds. A younger Cassidy in Hogwarts uniform standing in front of Snape. But it didn’t matter how he towered over her, Cassidy didn’t falter.

“How much longer am I supposed to suffer in your presence, Mercury?”

“Well, since I’m a fourth year…probably another three years, sir.” Cassidy answered with a smirk.

“A hopeless case, then.” Snape scoffed with a raised eyebrow.

The brief memory ended. “If I remember it correctly, Snape values ambition and intelligence.” Cassidy said as she reflected on past memories. “But I don’t have your past, so I guess it’s more difficult for you than for me.” Her eyes then turned determined. “I won’t have much time left, but there is another place at Hogwarts where you can be safe from prying eyes. There is a hidden clubhouse, you could move your little friendly group there but first you need to weed out some untrustworthy people.”

“Really? Where is that place? Can you tell me where?”

Cassidy just smiled. “Look for my clues. I left some behind in the castle, for the next great hero.”

Harry groaned and hung down his head. It was too much information for his head.

Cassidy laughed a little. “Okay, I’ll give you a little hint…”

Harry woke up with a start. At first, he felt a little disoriented and it was still pitch dark in the dorms. He sat up in the four poster bed and reached for the alarm clock. 

5.56 in the morning.

Well, there was no use in trying to fall asleep again. 

It was hardly the first morning he had weird dreams, but the ones with Cassidy Mercury made at least more sense than the ones with the dark corridors with the door in the end. But technically, it wasn’t much of a dream…she said that she was interfering. 

That means that someone else was probably sending the dreams with the dark corridors and the door. Was it a trick? Was it Voldemort? It was possible…but if Cassidy interfered, that meant she was trying to protect him probably.

He grabbed the nearest notebook and wrote down everything he could remember. This didn’t feel like a dream, more like a subconscious encounter, and Cassidy mentioned she was using legilimency. That was the opposite of occlumency.

‘There is a hidden clubhouse somewhere in the castle.’ Harry thought to himself later, as he took his shower and dressed for the day. ‘She left clues around the castle…Ron said Cassidy and Charlie were in the same year, they were a couple. They graduated from Hogwarts in June 1991…I came to Hogwarts in September the same year…’

Then he realised that she must’ve known he was coming to the castle, after she was done. Cassidy must’ve known who he was, but she didn’t comment on it or look at his scar (as every other witch or wizard does in this mad world). 

Breakfast wouldn’t start for another thirty minutes, so he left the common room and went downstairs to the entrance hall. He wanted to take a walk to think. Because despite popular belief, he didn’t think he was stupid or something. Besides, it’s relaxing to walk around in the early morning hours where no one stared at him or whispered behind his back.

“I will give you a clue…I’m a dear object you have lost. For others, I might be just an invaluable trinket. But for you as the owner…I might be worth more than the greatest treasure. Where would you look for me?”

Harry considered it, that sounded like a riddle. Lost things…if he lost something of worth for him, he’d ask if there were any “lost and found” boxes somewhere. But Hogwarts didn’t exactly have that, everyone used the bulletin board in their common rooms. 

Then it hit him…the map! Of course, he had his map! 

He opened it and whispered “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” and then the parchment revealed its map of Hogwarts castle and grounds. He found the little dot that was himself and standing close to…

Artefact Room

Of course! The artefact room! That is where lost things might be held! Harry whispered a “Mischief Managed” and walked towards the door that everyone always passed and never paid any mind. 

It wasn’t bigger than a glorified broom cupboard; it was a small, square room with a high ceiling and no windows at all. The room was dimly lit by a lantern hanging from the ceiling. There was a large wooden cabinet with ten small doors against the wall and on another wall, shelves filled with various strange trinkets. People must’ve kept this as a storage for things they didn’t know what to do with. 

“Lumos.” Harry mumbled and cast a bright light from the end of his wand, taking a look around. 

He looked around for a while, looking inside cabinet doors and pulling out drawers. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, but it must be something important. He found strange things…like scrolls written in unfamiliar languages, a shopping list, a book on apparition, powdered dragon horn, a dull dagger and three bat-shaped earrings. 

Harry was about to give up the search and into the Great Hall for breakfast when he pulled out another drawer and found…a black quill.

Quills were usually white. This one was dark as the night sky. He had no idea why, but he had a feeling it might be important. But that wasn’t all he found in the drawer. A snapped wand in half and a photograph. He also took them and stowed them in his schoolbag before he left the artefact room.

“Why didn’t you wake us up?” Hermione asked as they all sat and had breakfast. 

Harry had just told her and Ron about the dream that most likely wasn’t a dream, about the artefact room and what he had found there. 

Ron was more interested in the broken wand, he grabbed one of the pieces and looked closely at it. “Yeah…that was Cassidy’s wand.” He confirmed. “She used to come over for the summers. She was never without her wand, though.”

It was probably a very fine wand when it was whole. The handle was in brass and the wood was carved in a spiral. 

The photograph was still and not moving, but it was coloured despite the setting being dark. 

That wasn’t Cassidy Mercury at all. 

It was a little boy, no older than probably twelve or thirteen. He was small, but thin and gangly with curly red hair, pointy nose and large glasses. He was sitting on the docks in the boathouse, looking down at the water. 

And Harry noticed something strange in the shadows behind him, something…obscure.

Ron stared at the photo, his face nearly ashen. “It’s Percy…he looked like that when he was in his third year. Bill and Charlie teased him because he was still so small…”

Hermione took the photo and turned on it. “Look.” She whispered and showed Harry and Ron. 

Written by an unfamiliar penmanship, Harry suddenly understood Percy’s role in Cassidy’s disappearance.

“If you value his life, then come to Forest Grove in the Dark Forest. Or not, then the Forsaken will gladly feast on his soul. - P. Rakepick”

All colour had drained from Ron’s face, staring at the written text with horror. “H-he was going to…”

Die , was the unspoken word. Harry had no idea who this P. Rakepick was, but it seemed addressed to Cassidy and this Rakepick had held Percy hostage for something, threatening to let something called the Forsaken kill him.

“Do you think your family knows?” Hermione asked worriedly.

Ron shook his head. “No. If Mum knew someone tried to Percy when he was thirteen, she would’ve never let him come back to Hogwarts! Hell, she wouldn’t let any of us come back to school and tried to homeschool us! He must’ve lied about this.”

“Or asked Cassidy to not tell anyone.” Harry guessed. “The way he talked about Cassidy…Percy made it sound as if she was the greatest thing that ever existed. He looked up to her.”

“Should we write to your parents then?” 

“Bloody hell, no!” Ron hissed. “It’s not like Rakepick is here anymore. Besides, this happened long ago, there’s nothing we can do about that.”

“But Percy-” Hermione insisted.

“Is fine.” Ron interrupted. “He’s got his new friends and the bloke that’s probably his boyfriend, but I don’t know what their deal is. But they’re not gonna let him go off alone, not so soon after the killer worms.”

Harry was more interested in why Rakepick would hold Percy hostage and threaten his life so Cassidy would come running for him. Did he know something? Has he found out something about Rakepick? Was he simply at the wrong place at the wrong time? 

“What is the Forsaken?” Harry asked out loud. 

Hermione shook her head. “I have no idea and it’s not something I’ve heard or read, not even in reference. It sounds nearly obscure and strange.”

Obscure…

“I don’t know either, but I think we know someone who loves the obscure and weird.”

“Did you say the Forsaken?” Jenny exclaimed, it was lunch and the Golden Trio had found Jenny sitting with Danny, who looked at them with a very bewildered look. 

To avoid suspicion, the three friends sat with Jenny and Danny (who was a Ravenclaw but he didn’t care). “Yes, do you know anything about it?”

Jenny pondered over it. “I’ve heard it in reference from Elias, that’s Martin’s boss, and he had always said it with disdain.” She said before her eyes lit up. “Oh! I remember! I was discussing some weird stuff I read in my book, the one Elias gave me, when this man suddenly appeared in the office. He was tall and big…not buff, but you know, just…big. I think he was a sea captain, but Elias ushered me out. Before the door closed, I think I heard them argue about something. I tried to eavesdrop, but then my ears started to feel cold and strange.”

“And you heard the Forsaken in reference?” Hermione asked.

“Yes. I think this captain was annoyed with Elias for some reason. He said something about stealing someone so finely suited for the Forsaken and he sounded really miffed about it.”

Ron looked at Harry and Hermione. “I don’t trust that Elias, I gotta write to Percy.”

“You can’t!” Hermione hissed. “Umbridge is watching all incoming and outgoing owl mail!”

“And Loki is still not back from America. I sent a letter to Grandad yesterday.” Jenny said sheepishly. 

Ron grumbled. “Damn it!” He whispered harshly. “Jenny’s right, this is a bloody prison!”

Hermione dragged them all to the library after classes, in her quest to find out more about Cassidy Mercury. Jenny was helping harry to understand Potions as subject a little better when Hermione returned with several heavy books in her arms and slammed them on the table, making them all jump.

“I brought all the records about Cassidy Mercury I could find. Look at this!” She grabbed the nearest book, flipped it to the right page and showed it to the rest. “Cassidy Mercury was the best student in the eighties! Look, nearly all her OWL results were Outstanding except in Potions, where she only earned an Exceeds Expectations.” 

Hermione flipped more pages. “But then in her NEWT results, she received an Outstanding in Potions! In fact, all of her NEWT results were no less than ten Outstandings!”

“So she’s some kind of wonder student?” Danny asked, very interested. 

“Not only that, but she was also on the Gryffindor Quidditch team!” Hermione said, she flipped up another book and showed them. 

“Oh right, Charlie used to brag about how she was the best Chaser on the team. She used to be co-captain by his side, too.” Ron added. 

“So this Cassidy Mercury was a star student.” Jenny said and looked through the record books. “But she was also the star Chaser and co-captain in the Quidditch team, member in the Frog Choir, Prefect and then, Head Girl. Sounds nearly like Hermione, but if she played Quidditch too.”

“No wonder Percy looked up to her in that case.” Hermione said, looking at the smiling photo of Cassidy Mercury. “But her biggest merit is apparently saving the school from cursed vaults. I don’t know what the Cursed Vaults are, but they must’ve been a big deal if she was named “Hero of Hogwarts” by Professor Dumbledore himself!”

“Maybe that is what we need.” Harry then said. “A real hero.”

“But we still need to solve the matter of this feather.”

It was in the middle of February now and so far, Harry had suffered one awful first date and Rita Skeeter interviewing him about Voldemort’s return (on his terms, for once). Hermione was obviously on a roll, since she was taking certain matters in her own hands.

“So far we know, there are no black quills being used as writing utensils.” Hermione insisted. 

“Hang on, it still needs ink to write?” Ron asked and eyed the feather suspiciously. 

“I’ve checked, it’s safe.” Hermione confirmed.

“Oh. Good.” Ron added. The last thing they needed was another of Umbridge’s sadistic quills.

Harry picked up the feather, looking at it closely. “Cassidy said she would leave clues…” He repeated. “I’m almost certain that she knew that we would eventually be here and find traces of her existence.”

Hermione suddenly clapped her hands together. “Maybe she has transformed a clue into this feather!” She drew her wand and motioned for Harry to place it on the smaller table. She aimed her wand steadily. “Revelio.”

The black quill then transformed into a letter, rolled up and tied with a red band. Harry picked it up, untied the band and rolled it open. Then he started to read. 

“Dear Harry. 

 

I’m glad that you have found this letter I am leaving behind for you (and rest assured, I knew you would find out because I have a Seer friend with very reliable visions). I have so much to tell and so much to explain, so it’s nearly difficult to put everything in written words.

 

You may not know my name or who I am, but my name is Cassidy Mercury. I have a lot to do with you, even if I didn’t find out everything until now. There was a Memory Lock Charm placed on me since I was eight and it was only after a certain event in my sixth year that broke the enchantment and now, I remember everything. 

 

I had a pair of godparents once. They are your parents, James and Lily Potter. That is why my middle name is Lilith, in honour of your mother and my godmother. They placed the Memory Lock Charm on me, in order to hide me from Voldemort. The plan was apparently that I was going to have this charm broken, once it was safe to remember and then I could go find you. But since no one else knew of the spell except for your parents and my mother, who is a Squib, was unable to break the spell.

 

As you probably have guessed, I am your godsister. 

 

When I was able to recall all my memories, I made the ultimate decision to put a stop to Rakepick and seal up the Cursed Vaults for good. So when the time came when you would attend Hogwarts, then it would be a safe place for you. I hope my efforts weren't in vain. 

 

To everyone’s knowledge, there were five active Vaults at Hogwarts. The Vaults of Ice, Fear, Forest, Buried and Sunken. I have, with the help of very dear friends, successfully sealed them away so they can never be used for nefarious means. But my job isn’t done. There is one vault left, the main vault that controls the rest. And it’s located in the Ministry of Magic, down in the Department of Mysteries. I am writing this on the night after my graduation ceremony and I have decided to not involve anyone else. I know that Bill and Charlie are off on their great career offers and I can’t ask my other friends to share this burden.

 

Therefore, it’s my duty and my fate to do this but I am not alone. There is someone who wants to join me on this quest, even though he’s technically very young for this matter. But I trust him and I have sworn to myself to keep him safe, to all costs.

 

Harry, there is a chance that I might not return after this. There is a chance that I will never meet you, after all. But I’m not without hope, either. Even in the face of defeat or danger, no matter how scared you might get, do everything with a smile. 

 

Stand up proud and believe in a bright future. I will disclose an additional note on how to find a secret place here at Hogwarts; it’s a clubhouse where me and my friends used to hang in. Use it as you will.

 

But if I would ever return, you can easily recognise me by these signs: Golden hair in a short haircut, green eyes as pears and me telling you that it’s going to be fine because I am here.

 

Take care of yourself and I hope we will be reunited one day.

 

Cassidy Lilith Mercury, your godsister.

PS. You have a godfather too, Sirius Black. I have reasons to believe that he’s innocent and falsely accused of crimes regarding your family’s fate.”

Harry let his arms and hands sink down to his knees, eyes staring down at the parchment. 

This whole time…

Anger started to fuel his veins. His sight became blurry and hazy. Strong emotions as disappointment, anger and injustice boiled inside him. 

He had everything to do with Cassidy Mercury this whole time and no one told him!

If she was lost beyond the vault…why? Why didn’t anyone make an effort to find her? She saved Hogwarts from those Vaults, wasn’t all her sacrifice worth anything?! There was no one left than Percy who kept her story alive, his idolisation of her made more sense now. 

The record books had told that she was the best student before Hermione came to the school. The star student…the star Chase and co-captain of the Quidditch team…Prefect…Head Girl…

Hero of Hogwarts.

In his perspective…it felt as if the world wanted to forget that Cassidy existed and she might still be alive behind that Vault, wherever it might be now.

‘Cassidy…she’s shed blood, sweat and tears…she’s been hurt and traumatised over and over…just to protect Hogwarts and she’s being reduced to a forgotten memory!’

Harry’s anger boiled away and left only sadness. If the Cursed Vaults hadn’t existed…would’ve she been here to greet him? Would’ve she come and found him earlier? A godsister was probably the closest thing to a real sibling, right?

Cassidy could’ve been there…maybe she could’ve been the hero to take him away from the Dursleys? 

What was it Percy had described her as?

“Imagine a warm light, like the sun rising after a horrible storm. That is the impression I got from Cassidy Mercury. And when she says “Don’t worry, it’s okay now because I am here.”, you feel the hope rise within you and suddenly, you just know everything’s going to be fine.”

Harry suddenly rose up from the chair. “Hermione, do you think we can catch Luna at dinner? I want to ask if we can request a memorial article about Cassidy Mercury in the Quibbler! ”

Hermione looked at Harry with teary eyes and Ron stared at Harry, not sure what to say. 

She embraced him. “Oh, Harry. We’re gonna do it, okay? She’s not going to be forgotten, not after everything she’s done!”

Ron rose up with a sudden look of determination in his face and nodded. “Of course we’re gonna do it, mate. She’s not just a hero, she’s your family too.”

It was done with all haste, as a last minute inquiry to the Quibbler, but when the latest edition came out, there was an article inside. 

Cassidy Mercury - the Forgotten Hero of the Eighties

 

Officially, Cassidy Lilith Mercury has been missing since June 11th 1991. But she was more than just a missing girl and a recent graduate of Hogwarts at the time. 

 

We have found out by reliable sources that Mercury was no one else than the hero who defeated and sealed the Cursed Vaults of Hogwarts, thus saving innocent students from harm’s way. Here at the Quibbler, we have interviewed several of her old classmates and friends. 

 

“Cassidy was the best of the best, we couldn’t have come this far if it wasn’t for her. She’s the reason why I found my way as a Magizoologist.” - Barnaby Lee, Magizoologist. 

 

“Mercury was one of the best Chasers I’ve ever played against and a worthy rival. She could’ve gone far as a fellow Quidditch player, maybe even in the World Cup.” - Skye Parkin, Chaser at the Wigtown Wanderers.

 

“I remember Cassidy as an excellent student and a brave hero, but most of all, as a very loyal and kind friend. We’ve faced a lot of danger in our school years, but I learnt to face my fears and become strong, thanks to her. She’s one of my greatest friends and she deserves to be remembered as she truly was; a symbol of hope.” - Penny Haywood, Potioneer at St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies.

 

We have received several more entries, but it’s safe to say that Cassidy Mercury was a hero and deserves to be remembered as such. We’re also reminding our readers if there is any new information regarding her whereabouts, feel free to contact Sigourney or Jacob Mercury (the contact information is in a small notice next to the article).

Needless to say, there was a massive whispering and murmuring about Cassidy Mercury at Hogwarts, along with the contents of Harry’s interview with Skeeter.

Chapter Text

[CLICK]

BASIRA

I really shouldn’t be talking about it on tape.

ARCHIVIST

Well, it’s up to you about how long you’d like to talk. You came to us, so I’m only here to listen.

BASIRA

Yeah… Just wanna talk about it with someone, you know?

ARCHIVIST

Yes, I suppose so.

BASIRA

I’m breaking the law by talking to you. You understand that?

ARCHIVIST

I… am aware of that. Some sort of non-disclosure agreement, right?

BASIRA

Pretty much. D-Do you need my real name?

ARCHIVIST

Technically no, but from what I understand of your situation, you’d be rather identifiable even without it. This is not the first time we’ve had statements from witnesses in sensitive positions. I’ll mark the tape and file it for internal use only, which means it comes under the Institute’s own, very strict, NDA policy and cannot be referenced or requested by external agencies or authorities.

Such as the police.

BASIRA

[Pointedly] That’s the best you can offer?

ARCHIVIST

Yes, it’s the best I can offer, I’m afraid. Although, I can remind you again you are under no obligation to make a statement if it makes you uncomfortable. Or, if you’re worried about your voice being recognised, you could always write it down. I’ll make an audio copy later and have it transcribed-

BASIRA

I’m not really big on writing. I’m more of a talker.

ARCHIVIST

Odd choice of career, then. [attempting comedy] I-I am so sorry, I was trying to be humorous. I’ve heard there are lots of forms to fill in for the police.

BASIRA

Not much since I became Section 31.

ARCHIVIST

Yes, you mentioned. This Section Thirty– you know what, we will cover it in the statement.

Statement of Police Constable Basira Hussain regarding her time investigating… strange occurrences as part of Section 31. Statement taken directly from subject, February 9th 1996. Statement begins.

BASIRA

…

Now?

ARCHIVIST

If you please.

BASIRA

Right, well, first off, I’m not ‘part’ of Section 31. It’s not like a unit or a division within the police force or anything like that. It’s a form you have to sign. Section 31 of the Freedom of Information Act covers exclusions for information pertaining to law enforcement. It just means that any information that could interfere with the prevention or detection of a crime can’t be given out as part of an FOI request. So what happens is, when you stumble across something a bit… weird, then after it’s over you’re taken to one side, and told to sign a form officially declaring what you saw and experienced was directly related to a crime. Then it’s covered by Section 31 and can’t be revealed under the Freedom of Information Act. There’s a whole bunch of other NDA stuff in there as well, but it basically means you have to keep quiet about it.

Thing is, signing your first Section 31 really marks you out-

The paramedics took him after that. They didn’t really want to, but it was clearly more in their domain than ours. I assume hospitals probably have their own version of a Section 31 those poor idiots had to sign later. Daisy and I told them we’d clear it up on the police side. Just a standard suicide, and the body was taken by the ambulance. It cut down on the forms, and neither of us wanted to sign another goddamn Section 31.

ARCHIVIST

Well, that was very…ah, fascinating. What other cases have fallen under this classification?

BASIRA

Officially, I’ve only had one other, and that was yours.

ARCHIVIST

Officially?

BASIRA

You get a few dozen calls a year from people who have strange experiences, but they don’t have any evidence. I mean, if what they say is true, then it would be a Section 31, but… there’s nothing that can be investigated or proven, so there’s nothing to report. I always feel bad for them; they’re always so sincere, so sure you can help, but unless they can point to the ghost or the spooky clown doll or whatever, there’s not really a lot we can do.

I’ve also been quite lucky, to be honest. I’ve dodged quite a few of the nastier Section 31s over the years. I remember Harry used to get wasted and tell all sorts of grim stories.

ARCHIVIST

Um, full names, please.

BASIRA

Sorry, Sergeant Harry Altman. Worked with him a few years back, before he retired.

ARCHIVIST

Right. So… just to return to, er, Gertrude’s body. Is that currently considered a para–I mean, a weird case?

BASIRA

I mean, we’re investigating it as a murder because that’s what it is, but you guys are basically an automatic Section 31, so I’ve got almost no help on it. Maybe that’s why I wanted to make a statement, you know? I can’t talk to anybody about this stuff, and then I come here, and you’ve got all this… all these people’s experiences listened to and filed away. It’s… I don’t know. I’ve been meaning to come in ever since that callout.

ARCHIVIST

Mm. Yes. S-So um… so no-one is helping you with Gertrude’s case? No oversight?

BASIRA

Not really. I tried making the argument that the murder didn’t seem to connect to any of your ‘paranormal business’, at least not directly, but nope. I’ve got a shot corpse, three boxes of cassettes, and Daisy, who’s CID now, which I suppose means it’s technically her problem, but she’s now the only detective who’s already sectioned so she’s always way too busy. As far as I know, neither of us have even had a chance to actually start listening to the tapes.

ARCHIVIST

Interesting. 

BASIRA

…

You are really new at this, aren’t you?

ARCHIVIST

Pardon?

BASIRA

Look, I’m not stupid. I know you should be too young for this. You look like 19. 20, tops. Your job is way above your qualifications. Your assistants are older than you, more qualified and yet, didn’t get the position. You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?

ARCHIVIST

(sighs frustrated) Not in the slightest, but I work hard and I am dedicated to my job. I don’t know why my employer chose me, but I am not complaining as my previous job ended in practically career suicide. I can assure you that I take my job seriously.

Uh, listen. About those tapes-

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST

Obviously further investigation of the police cases to which Ms Hussain refers is out of the question. Ensuring that the breach of non-disclosure and spreading of confidential information remains hidden is our top priority in this instance. Further investigation, however subtle, could put that in significant danger. Beyond that, Ms Hussain did not appear to expect any such investigation. I can’t say I blame her. Much as I value the deductive powers of my team, they are not trained detectives with the force of the Metropolitan Police behind them, so I imagine there would be little more they could unearth. Certainly nothing worth the risk.

If nothing else, it appears we now have a name for our mystery burn victim from Case #0121102. Diego Molina. And I have a suspicion I know where he got that book. It’s a shame he’s dead, of course, but a piece of the puzzle is not something to be ignored.

End recording.

[CLICK]

Percy followed Basira out of his office. “Thank you for your time, Constable Hussain.” They shook hands.

“You know.” Basira looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not so bad. Your age just puts me off.”

Percy sighed and rubbed his neck. “Yes, I keep getting that reaction. I just hope it gets better by the time. Listen, I know it’s a sensitive matter but…may I ask if I am a suspect in the case?”

“Officially, you are.” Basira confirmed. “But personally? I don’t think it can be you. You’ve never met your successor, you said?”

Percy shook his head. “No, never. Elias told me that she had already been gone for a couple of months when I came to this place for the first time, that was in June 1995.”

Basira nodded. “I see. Well, see you.” She said and went upstairs to the lobby of the institute, leaving the archives. Then she was gone.

Percy had no idea what to think of this. 

He probably needed a cup of tea, so he went into the break room and saw the tea kettle with hot water. Perfect. He reached for a vacant mug and filled it with hot water, putting in a teabag with the label “Rooibos” and waited. 

‘I wonder if this Section 31 is the same as Section 30 in the Department of Mysteries?’ He thought to himself. Both of the “sections” seemed nearly related, he was almost sure that they would be the same, even if they belonged in two different worlds. But right now, he had the feeling that both his world and the muggle world were becoming intertwined because of these strange, supernatural things that kept happening.

“Heeeeey, bossman Perce!”

Percy wanted to sigh again. “My name is still Percy, Tim.” He reminded his assistant. “What do you want?”

“Oh, you wound me, bossman.” Tim laughed. “You act as if I have something planned.”

“You always do, Tim.” Percy said and took out the teabag, throwing it in the trash. He took the milk from the fridge and added a small splash of it in his tea. “How is the progress on the Thomas Neill case then?”

“Oh, plenty of nasty stuff going down. We got a really disgusting case there. Anyways, Sasha is chasing down more information about the research project and I’m trying to find that elusive antiques dealer.” Tim shrugged. “That bloke is really elusive.”

“It’s Salesa, isn’t it?” Percy asked and Tim nodded. “He’s a recurring character in the statements I’ve recorded. It makes me come off as paranoid, but I can’t help but to think that all of this is connected.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Wait, do you think that all the statements that can’t be transcribed on the computer are connected?”

“Who knows.” Percy smiled and took a sip of his tea. “I guess we’ll find out eventually.” He took his cup, bringing it with himself as he returned into his office to record more statements. 

Tim was left behind, leaning at the counter and stared after his retreating young boss. He sighed fondly with a wide grin. “Percy Weasley, you are one great mystery I wanna solve.” He chuckled for himself.

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST

Supplemental. I may have convinced Basira to give me access to the tapes. It won’t be many or often, they are currently police evidence and thus hard to subtly remove, and she can’t necessarily guarantee the ones I get will be the most pertinent to the case, but it is still a significant victory. I’ve never known or met Gertrude at all, but I have a feeling that the contents in her tapes might give me some insight of what can have happened to her. Naturally, I am afraid of what I might find on these tapes, but I’m more concerned if I would find nothing. I hate feeling uncertain like this, I’d rather have answers than not.

End supplemental.

[CLICK]

Percy discovered that his little “conspiracy board” had been untouched from the renovations of the archives (although renovations were pushing it and the only thing that had been changed was repairing the walls, exchanging the flooring and new wallpapers). He uncovered it from its hiding place and looked it over. 

He had made several new additions since the last time it had his attention. 

‘Five Cursed Vaults at Hogwarts…all of them are defeaten and sealed away. But then there is one more, at the Ministry and inside the Department of Mysteries.’ He thought to himself. ‘One vault that might be the main vault, the reason why the other vaults opened at all. But what is behind it is no treasure or hidden knowledge…I’ve seen what is beyond it and it’s horrible, it’s the source of my recurring nightmares…’

He drew his wand and made more red threads appear, they connected to pinned down information and woven together, sprawling across the board like a spider’s web in red.

Section 30 of the Ministry…Section 31 of the Metropolitan Police of London…they had to be connected somehow, their similarities couldn’t be a coincidence.

As if he didn’t have enough troubles, Rakepick was out there roaming freely. Doing who knows what. Percy was no stranger to how dangerous she was. Rakepick belonged to the worst kind of dangerous.

Not starking insane as Lestrange, but she was cunning and manipulative. It had been so easy for her to gain his trust, as a young boy and she was very charismatic, nearly charming. Rakepick wasn’t someone who revealed her true intentions from the start; she relished in being ominous and it had nearly driven him mad.

Percy had always been curious, always desperately trying to know everything. Dad used to joke that he had enough ambition to try to know all the secrets of the universe. Maybe that was what pulled him to the muggle world and the institute? Trying to know everything. He always thought the more knowledge he found out, the more doors of opportunity he could open.

And it was true, in a way.

But Dad had also said that knowing too much can be dangerous, if he’s not careful.

Not that it had ever concerned him. Percy always regarded himself as the most cautious person in the family. Well…at least until Prentiss. 

He looked at his board again, feeling concerned. The thing was that he knew where Cassidy was. It was getting the Vault to open that was the problem. The large archway with the veil, deep down in the Department of Mysteries, was the Vault, but it needed to be opened by someone who has willingly taken a step through it.

And he was one of the few who has. 

He needed to activate the Vault to pass through the archway and find Cassidy. The problem was that he couldn’t activate it until he could find the last piece of the puzzle Cassidy left behind. 

The journal she had left with him…it had torn pages from them and they were somewhere in the goddamn world. That would’ve deemed his question impossible.

But if there was one trait he shared with his father (and he was proud of that), then it was his stubbornness. Percy didn’t give up, not even with the biggest obstacle in his view. He made it into prefect and head boy, didn’t he? And he had managed a whole department at 18 years old, didn’t he? And if he had taken Fudge’s offer, he would’ve been the youngest assistant to the Minister in ages, wouldn’t he?

Percy wasn’t stupid. He knew that the Order did their best to thwart Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but what is that wasn’t enough? His parents and two older brothers were already Order members and Percy had the dreadful feeling that his little twin brothers would join soon. He can’t watch them fight and die, even if it’s for a noble cause. He just can’t.

That was why they needed Cassidy Mercury back. He needed Cassidy back. Percy knew that she was an intelligent fighter, she had experience in fighting the darkness and she was a powerful witch who had recently mastered wandless magic when she graduated. 

The Order needed Cassidy Mercury to win.

Most of all, Harry would need her because she, as a natural Legilimens, was also very skilled in Occlumency and she would be a better teacher for him than Snape ever could (he was too biased against the boy and his lessons were already a bad recipe for disaster). 

Percy covered the board in its hiding place again, storing away his thoughts for now.

Besides, he had other things to be concerned about. Like the tunnels beneath the archives, just below his feet, and what might lurk in the shadows down there.

“You want to go into the tunnels?” Jon repeated the question.

Percy had asked for a private meeting after work hours, preferably out of Elias’ sight and ears. And he found himself in some kind of English pub, on Tim’s insistence. He claimed that no one would pay attention to them inside a loud, noisy and rowdy pub. 

That and he said that Percy needed to indulge in some “good, old fashioned Muggle cuisine” which meant the food was apparently drenched in fried oil and there was cheap beer.

“Yes.” Percy said. They sat in a booth, with a basket of fried snacks between them and each having a tall glass of beer. He hadn’t touched his own drink yet, as he was unsure how strong this was and if the taste was even pleasant. “The tunnels below the archives, I am almost sure that there is something hidden in the shadows and the tunnels might lead to an unknown location. But I don’t want to do it alone, I might get lost and you will never see me again.”

“Good thinking, bossman.” Tim agreed. “If it was Jon, he would’ve probably done that in secret.”

“Tim.” Jon said tersely.

“Jon.” Tim smirked at him. 

“Their bickering aside, I’m glad you reached out to us.” Sasha said and took a sip from her glass. “Cause after what you have been through and your family is kinda paranoid about what you’re doing, it’s better you do this with us.”

“In case something goes wrong, that is.” Martin added determined. 

“Great, then we should make up plans.” Sasha nodded, she smiled and dug out a little notebook from her purse. 

“Torches. I got a load of them at home, Danny is really into this whole urban explorer thing since I gave him a book about it.” Tim said.

“We need to do this after dark.” Jon pointed out. “Elias is going to keep his eyes on us, especially so soon after Prentiss. Besides, the trapdoor to the tunnels are locked with a key which only he has.”

“We don’t need the key, I have something better.” Percy pointed out. 

Jon frowned until he finally remembered what he meant. “Oh…I forgot. Does-does it work on everything ?”

“It certainly works on everything.” Percy confirmed. “So technically, we don’t need the key to open the locks. But we’re going to need one party down in the tunnels and one party in the archives, just in case.”

“So we’re like Mystery Inc and investigating this shit?” Tim said and he was far too excited about this. Like a golden retriever had just set his eyes on a green tennis ball, very eager to play with it.

Percy didn’t understand that reference. “What?” He asked.

Tim looked at Sasha. “Oh my god, Sasha. He doesn’t know what Scooby Doo is!”

“Of course not, he’s a wizard, Tim.” Sasha mumbled the magic word to him, trying to not expose him. But that didn’t matter because the whole pub was watching a football game on the big telly and the crowd either cheered or booed at the game. “How would he know what Scooby Doo is when he’s never grown up with a telly?”

“Ah, point taken.” Tim grinned.

“I have literally no idea what you’re talking about.” Percy scoffed, irritated. “You might as well come from another planet.”

“Don’t worry, boss. We’re gonna show you.” Tim said and then he gasped in a self-made discovery. “I know!” He hit his fist on an open palm. “We’re gonna have a sleepover at my house, that’s the perfect cover!”

Jon pondered over this. “Yes…that doesn’t seem too suspicious. Percy’s family can rest assured that he’s safe somewhere, we don’t get suspected of what we’re about to do and at night, we’ll explore the tunnels below the archives.”

“But how are we gonna get inside the archives after closing time?” Martin asked. “A-and if we get discovered by the security or the police, what are we gonna do?”

Percy thought for a moment. Sneaking into the institute without alerting the security or the police was the real challenge. But haven't they technically been breaking Muggle laws for the sake of academia? 

Breaking and entering, flirting with cops for leads and Sasha has heavily implied that she’s been using her work computer to get ahold of sensitive information. And they had him, a wizard who had no less than twelve NEWTs in every subject from Hogwarts.

Percy looked up and saw his assistants looking at him expectantly. Tim wore a wide grin, Sasha had a confident smirk, Martin with his shy, gentle smile and Jon who nodded. The Head Archivist then smiled back at them, nodding back. 

They could do this together.

Sirius stared down at the magazine that was lying open on the table. He had been tipped off a certain article from Kingsley, but…there was another article that concerned him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

Remus sighed heavily. “What was I supposed to say?” He said quietly. “That James’ goddaughter might be possibly dead and no one knows what happened? That we failed to see any sign before it was too late?”

Sirius shook his head. “No. No. She isn’t dead. Cassie isn’t dead!” He denied it, his hand curled into a balled fist. “She was fine last time I saw her! She was seven! She was playing with Harry, she was happy!”

“...she didn’t remain like that, Sirius.” Remus said softly. “You know that James and Lily…they sealed away her memories, so she would grow up safe. T-they had hoped that in case something happened to them…you would find Cassie and remove the seal. A-and look after her and Harry.” 

Remus usually had good control of his emotions, but right now, it felt too much. The whole matter about Cassidy’s disappearance was still an open wound and he had seen her as a young teenager, struggling with so much on her plate. 

And he had felt so useless , only being able to watch but not to help…because of his status in this wretched society.

“I’ve seen her when she was at Hogwarts.” Remus began. “Cassie, she…she’s incredibly clever and brave…and so compassionate. We’ve met a couple of times, but I couldn’t bring myself from telling her anything. I thought she would be happier if she didn’t know anything.”

Sirius looked at the moving photographs, each of them pictured a girl in different school years. Most of these were mementos from friends. Tonks had most of them since they had been very close friends, but both Bill and Charlie also had their fair share of photographic memories.

Cassidy Mercury, who had grown from a curious, little girl into a strong, independent woman with golden hair and green eyes. But he noticed something different; the older she became, the more serious she became in the photos. Especially in the photo that dated after February 1989.

In the middle of her sixth year photo, Cassidy had dark circles around her eyes, which seemed devoid of life, and she was pale as snow. It seemed to have gotten better when he looked at the photo of September 1990, but Sirius had an unsettling feeling grown.

“Remus, what happened to her?”

Remus looked down at his tea, holding the cup with both hands to warm them up. “...she lost a dear friend to her. Rowan Khanna, her best friend. She was killed in front of her eyes…s-she was trying to protect Cassidy. She never forgave herself for what happened, even if they managed to get the perpetrator arrested and thrown in Azkaban.”

Oh, Gods…no. Not this.

“Please tell me she got therapy, Remus.”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I didn’t have any contact with her.” The werewolf told him. “I really wish I had contact with her, but as long as her memories were locked, I would only be a stranger and it’s not really a good idea for a werewolf to befriend an eleven year old child.”

Sirius sighed frustrated, but he knew his friend had a point. “Fine, you win. So those times you’ve met her were at Hogwarts. Here’s the question; why were you even at Hogwarts grounds in the eighties?”

“Well.” Remus started. “The first time I met Cassidy at Hogwarts…I was actually in the Forbidden Forest, looking for potion ingredients. You know that I have never been good at potions, but my transformations had gotten worse at that time and when I heard of the recently invented Wolfsbane Potion. But it was highly expensive and I couldn’t afford it with my low income, so I became desperate enough to attempt making one.”

Sirius frowned at the reminder that his friend had gone through a harsh life of poverty for more than a decade.

“I stumbled on a young Hogwarts student there. Chiara Lobosca, she was also a werewolf like me. But she was very good at potions, compared to me and before the full moon occurred, she used to give a share of the potion to me. I was under the belief that she had already gotten her dose and had plenty to share, that was why I accepted it. But during 1985, there were complications. Suddenly there were rumours about a beast that roamed at nights and had harmed a student. Chiara began to manifest deep fears that she had harmed that student as a werewolf.”

He then smiled when he came to the main point. “That was when I met Cassidy for the first time in years. She was no longer the seven year old girl I remembered, but a twelve year old witch. I found out later that she knew Chiara was a werewolf, but she didn’t care about that. Instead, she was convinced that Chiara couldn’t have done it and went all her way to prove her innocence. And it turns out that she was right. It wasn’t a werewolf at all, but a hippogriff that had attacked the student who misremembered it. Cassidy really impressed me with her loyalty, her investigation skills and her determination.”

“What an adventure.” Sirius mused as Remus finished the story. “I suspect that wasn’t her first and last adventure?”

“Not even close.” Remus chuckled while he shook his head. “I got to hear much more from other sources. Apparently Cassidy had a habit of getting dragged into trouble she didn’t ask for. In retrospect, she’s a lot like Harry.”

“I can only imagine.”

‘Prongs would’ve found that hilarious. His son and goddaughter are like two peas in a pod.’ Sirius thought until he reminded himself of the current issue.

Cassidy had disappeared in June 1991, barely days after her graduation. Remus seemed to have caught on what he was thinking about and he also lost his brief smile, looking at him with saddened eyes. “Sirius…I really don’t know what could’ve happened to her. I’ve asked Bill, Charlie and Tonks, as they were her closest friends through her school years. No one knows anything.”

“What about her parents? Peregrine? Sigourney? And her brother, Jacob?”

“Peregrine is dead.” Remus whispered.

Sirius paled. “What?”

“Peregrine…you know that he had always been critical towards the Ministry. He got worse after…James and Lily died and then you got sent to Azkaban without a trial. He grew obsessed with the idea to “cleanse the Ministry from the power-mad, corrupt bloodsuckers”, as he told it. Last time I saw him, Peregrin made the decision to walk out on his own family to get things right, as he said. But he let himself go too far.”

“How?!”

“The Crown of Mnene…he put it on.” Remus swallowed with difficulty. “Peregrine got cursed. There was no way to save him.”

Sirius let this sink in. He couldn’t believe that Peregrine Mercury was gone. He remembered the black haired man with pear green eyes and a confident grin. Mercury had been a Head Boy when they started at Hogwarts. But they had looked up to him, he had taught them everything during the first year and he had always let them off easily when they broke rules.

Nothing had changed when Peregrine graduated and married the girl of his dreams; a Squib girl he met in Diagon Alley when they were fourteen and had faithfully loved since then. Peregrine had trusted them so much that he asked James and Lily to be godparents to his young daughter.

He couldn’t believe that Peregrine didn’t exist anymore and he didn’t even know!

“How is Sigourney taking this?” Sirius whispered.

“Not good at all.” Remus confirmed. “She always held onto the hope that Peregrine would return after walking out on them. She knew there was no one else in his heart, but he left because he was searching for something. You know that Peregrine was a scholar at heart. But then she hears of his death in June 1991 and shortly thereafter, her only daughter disappears.” His voice cracked in the end. “

“And Jacob?”

“In America. He got an offer from MACUSA, they wanted him for his experience in battling the dark forces and his expertise in wandless, nonverbal magic.” 

MACUSA, huh? Sirius knew it was a big deal because the American magical government didn’t reach out and came with offers to just anyone. Those yanks must’ve really had their eyes on Jacob Mercury, if they wanted him to work for them. Besides, it’s better than their shitty Ministry of Magic.

“I met with Sigourney a few months ago.” Remus suddenly said. “She refuses to believe that her daughter is dead. She told me that she knows that she is alive and she will refuse what the Ministry says until the day she dies.”

There were only a handful of women he had feared in his life. For example, his favourite cousin Andromeda. 

Lily was obviously one of them and another was Sigourney Mercury. She may be a Squib, but she didn’t give a shit about anyone and Sirius was pretty sure that she could take down the Ministry if she wanted to.

“Why hasn’t she joined the Order, if I can ask?” Sirius then asked.

“She said she will, once she has her daughter back.” Remus answered. “Sirius, I really hope the Ministry has nothing to do with Cassidy’s disappearance. Because if it turns out it’s a coverup, then nothing will stop Sigourney from tearing the place down.”

“Wouldn’t it be hilarious to see Siggy beat the crap of Fudge?” Sirius smirked.

“Oh, I’d sell everything I own to see it.” Remus said amused.

Chapter Text

Technically, Percy was the worst liar in his family. 

He wasn’t comfortable with lying at all, especially not his parents. Lying was the opposite of honesty and he valued honesty a lot. The only reason why he wasn’t caught redhanded whenever he did or said something that wasn’t true was because of a loophole.

His grandmother once gave him a good piece of advice.

“If you ever find yourself in a difficult situation, remember this. Don’t tell lies, but you don’t have to tell the truth.”

Cedrella Weasley had once been a Black and she was the most cunning woman Percy ever knew. As much as he loved and adored his own mother, he had a special place in his heart for his grandmother. Parents weren’t supposed to favour their children, but grandparents had absolutely free reign and it was very clear that Percy was Cedrella’s favourite.

Percy missed his grandmother much. For him, it has always felt like she had known him the best, despite her passing away when he was thirteen years old. 

That year when he had turned 13 had officially become his worst year in his life and that was before Hogwarts became a hotspot for Voldemort or Death Eaters to try to kill Harry or harm his siblings or innocent students. 

1989 was when everything changed, wasn’t it? He became targeted by a highly dangerous woman, a teacher who was a criminal and murderer in disguise, and no one figured it out. When he had been all alone, in the dark forest far away from the castle and without anyone to protect him. That was when he had known what true fear was.

Except…Cassidy came. Late, yes. But she came for him.

“I'm sorry that I didn’t catch on to this earlier. This shouldn’t have happened.” Cassidy had told him, embracing him after the whole horrible ordeal he was put through. He couldn’t stop crying, his hands clung at her robes and he didn’t want anyone else than Cassie to hold him.

Wasn’t it funny and strange? That he had chosen Cassidy for comfort and safety, instead of his brothers. It wasn’t Bill he had come to or even Charlie. No, it was the girl who had become a big sister for him.

Percy smiled as he remembered her, he entertained himself with the thought of how Harry, Ron and Hermione would’ve loved her. He knew perfectly well that he wasn’t exactly someone they would look up to. But Cassidy was the perfect role model. 

What they needed was a real hero. A symbol of hope.

“You don’t have to worry anymore.” Cassidy grinned down at Percy, who looked up at her in admiration and relief. Cassidy Mercury, who was clad in scarlet Quidditch robes, wore a confident smile. “Because I am here.” 

Percy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, his face flushed with embarrassment. ‘Goodness me…how cheesy of me. I am still fanboying over Cassidy, like a silly school boy.’

It knocked on the door. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, please come in, Martin.” Percy said and he looked at the clock. “Ah, perfect timing.”

The wall clock hit exactly 10 o’clock and Martin chuckled, carrying on a tray with tea. “You really are punctual.”

“Well, nothing wrong with being exactly on time.” Percy said and accepted his teacup. “When I was in school, I was always on time.”

Martin sighed wistfully. “It must’ve been great to be there at Hogwarts and learn all sorts of magic.”

“It really was.” Percy said as he thought back on his memories. “I think the hardest part with graduating was to say goodbye. The fact that I wouldn’t return in the autumn hit me harder than I expected.”

Percy then realised that it was probably not what Martin wanted to hear. “Oh, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t worry about that.” Martin smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just wanted to know if it was really worth it. I kept wondering when I was a kid and I guess I never stopped dreaming of going to a place where I didn’t belong.”

“Martin…” Percy felt incredibly saddened by this. Martin was officially a Squib, but the Ministry kept no records of “second class citizens” like Squibs and that had been one of his motivations why he wanted to go to the Ministry.

One of his strongest memories when he was little…it was when Mother’s cousin came on visit. He didn’t do that anymore since he moved to the USA, but Percy could still remember how much he had shed tears.

“I can’t take it anymore, Molly! I can’t take it! Everyday is torture! How can I live happily in a society that treats me like vermin?!”

Percy had been hiding behind the corner of a wall, looking at his mother's cousin, who was grieving over what he had been robbed from and how badly treated he was, just because he was different from most people. It was usually swept under the carpet, but Squibs were suffering from horrible discrimination and Percy had wanted to change it.

When he started Hogwarts and learned more, Percy kept wondering what actually happened to the magicless part of their world. Those born in wizard families, but without any magic. Where did they go to school? How did they survive on their own? What about education? Their rights in society?

Percy looked at Martin and he thought about him and Tim. Both were Squibs, but they handled it in different ways. Martin had a resigned acceptance. Tim left their society with bitter anger. They had no reason to trust him, after all. But they did. 

His friends…

Percy then realised that he didn’t need to be in a Ministry to change the world. In fact, he didn’t need to change the world by himself. 

It was really funny that he was much happier in the institute than anywhere else, even if unnatural monsters had tried to kill him.

Tonks had come by Grimmauld Place to visit Sirius and she had been very eager to tell more about Cassidy. 

Sirius knew perfectly well there may be another reason why her visits became more frequent, but he didn’t dwell on it and instead, he became highly engrossed in the adventures Tonks told him. 

One thing was clear, at least.

Cassidy Mercury had suffered more than any other witch in the world has. The only one to top that was his godson. He was impressed by the stories Tonks told him; her strength, her intelligence, her stubbornness and most of all, her sense of justice and loyalty towards her friends and family. 

Suddenly he got more insight into Cassidy's personality and he became inspired by her. And he had only heard stories about her now. Both from Tonks, as Cassie’s friend, and Remus who had been aided by her help.

But the thing that broke him the most…was hearing about Rowan Khanna’s death.

Tonks had begun to shed tears over it, once they came to that point. 

“She never healed from it. Rowan died in front of her eyes and she couldn’t save her. Weeks after that, me and the others were so scared that she might…I dunno, jump from the Astronomy Tower or steal poison from Snape to drink it.”

Tonks then wiped away her tears. “But then she saw Percy blaming himself, just because it was him Rakepick wanted and Rowan died…Charlie told me that he really believed everything bad happened because of him. All of sudden, Cassie became stronger, she was determined to make sure he would smile again.”

Percy had been involved in the business about Patricia Rakepick. He had been so shocked to find out that Rakepick, the same prefect who had looked after him, James and Remus during their school years, was a Death Eater. And to top it all, she had tried to murder Cassidy and Percy. 

“Does Arthur know?” Sirius asked and narrowed his eyes. “I can’t see him or Molly keeping quiet about this! Maybe I haven’t known them for that long, but they would never let him return to the school if they knew their son nearly got murdered by a Death Eater!”

Tonks shook her head. “They don’t. Bill and Charlie wanted to tell them, but they kept quiet for Percy’s sake. He begged them to not tell anyone, that he just wanted this to become forgotten and once Rakepick was thrown in Azkaban, we never saw any meaning with opening that can of worms.”

Sirius sighed. “I don’t think that was a great idea. In that case, then Percy has never received therapy for what happened to him. A teacher, who now turns out to be a Death Eater, has tried to murder him…for what, I don’t know. And now, she’s out there with ten Death Eaters and has most likely rejoined bloody Voldemort. Tonks, he will be in danger.”

“Unless Rakepick has gone crazy and has forgotten the whole thing.” Tonks pointed out. “It’s been days since the breakout now and we haven’t heard anything. Besides, I don’t know why Rakepick would want to murder Percy back then. He was just thirteen.”

“Merlin, I’m so sick of hidden Death Eaters trying to murder thirteen year old wizards…”

Sirius looked at the photo of a girl with short, golden hair and green eyes. She had been fond of taking photos with a muggle-type camera called Polaroid and it was completely in colour. The only con was the photo was never moving.

In that photo, she was fourteen years old and she was smiling so brightly that she could easily replace the sun. 

‘Prongs. Lily. You would’ve loved to see what kind of girl your goddaughter became.’ Sirius thought with a small smile. They would’ve been so proud to learn that their Cassie was the Hero of Hogwarts.

He prayed in his mind that Cassidy would return home safe from wherever she was. 

[CLICK]

[ECHOING FOOTSTEPS]

ARCHIVIST

(whispers) Lumos!

TIM

(cheerfully) I can see you now!

ARCHIVIST

(dryly) How lovely. (sighs) I have never lied to my family before…I’m such an awful son.

TIM

Oh come on, young bossman. This was your idea!

SASHA

Look, everyone lies sometimes. Even if it’s for the greater good.

JON

I fail to see how sneaking in the tunnels under the institute classifies as “the greater good”.

ARCHIVIST

Because we need to find out what exactly these tunnels are. I suspect they may have been here since this institute first was established. I am not exactly sure, but it may be sometime in the 1840s. This isn’t the original building of the Magnus Institute after all.

TIM

(jokes) Nerd.

ARCHIVIST

Duly noted, Stoker. 

MARTIN

Anyways, should we maybe split up?

SASHA

Yeah, we’re not gonna do that.

JON

I thought the purpose was to explore the tunnels. By splitting up, we might be able to cover all the tunnels.

ARCHIVIST

It’s too risky. What if something happens to one of us and we can’t get a hold of that person? 

TIM

Well, what’s gonna happen-

ARCHIVIST

DON’T…finish that sentence. Everytime anyone says that, something wrong happens at the worst time. 

TIM

(scoffs amused) Prove it.

MARTIN

Worms.

SASHA

Michael.

ARCHIVIST

Voldemort.

JON

Elias.

[SILENCE]

(agitated) He creeps me out.

ARCHIVIST 

…right. To be honest, I do agree that Elias is slightly…ah, unsettling sometimes.

TIM

(astonished) Slightly?!

SASHA

He keeps nagging about your progress, he never answers right away and he’s a pretentious arse.

TIM

(cheery) Wow, Sasha Eleanor James!

SASHA

That’s not my name-

TIM

(still cheery) Are you badmouthing Mr. Double Boss right now?

SASHA

(scoffs) It’s after work, I can say whatever I want about him-

ARCHIVIST

(hisses) Everyone, be quiet!

JON

What?

MARTIN

Why?

ARCHIVIST

Do as I say!

[SILENCE]

[STATIC RISES]

[JON, MARTIN, TIM AND SASHA SHOUTS IN FEAR]

MARTIN

G-guys…the walls!

TIM

(overlapping) The hell’s going on?!

SASHA

(also overlapping) Percy, do something!

JON

(panicked) Get back to the stairs-

ARCHIVIST

Watch for the tape-

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST

Right…that happened.

(sighs) So, our little expedition got quickly to an end when we suffered one mishap after another. First of all, we all got separated by walls. It was shift and quick, but very silent so we never saw that coming. It-it was the strangest thing, almost as if the stone walls had gotten life and split us up before we could decide for ourselves.

Nevertheless, I ended up alone with just my tape recorder and my w-ah, torch in hand.

But I probably should start from the beginning. 

(clears voice) Statement of Percival Weasley, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, regarding exploration of the tunnels recently discovered below the archive. Statement given directly, 12th February, 1996. Statement, uh… Statement begins. 

Me and my assistants, we’ve gone down into the tunnels. It’s…. There are, uh… Jane Prentiss is dead. I know this. I have a small jar on my desk of what are supposed to be her ashes, though I don’t dare to believe it for a second. I don’t think Martin just gave me a jar of dust to try and calm me down, but it certainly feels like that. Like we haven’t almost died for a couple of weeks ago. 

I don’t know why he gave me that, maybe so I could get closure? Either way, it does appear to be working. A victory for the placebo effect, it would seem. But that’s beside the point. The worms have been cleared and incinerated, the floors and walls repaired, and the archive looks remarkably like it was never attacked at all. Except everything has changed, me and my assistants…we are changed by this, we know there are monsters out there and yet, the world just continues as it always does. As if nothing has changed at all. 

I’ve healed enough in the last few weeks to return to work, but I’m told it’s unlikely the scars will ever truly fade. I’m just fortunate that I have freckles, so my scars can be mistaken for another set of freckles. Others aren’t so lucky, such as Jon. Tim seems to pull it off, somehow. Don’t ask me how it works out, I barely understand it myself.

Everything’s over and dealt with, but why do I still feel like I’m being watched? I thought it was because of Prentiss, watching me in secret while she filled the walls with her writhing hordes, but no. She is dead and gone, and still whenever I talk into this…tape recorder, I feel this… I’m being watched. I know I am. I’d think it was some aspect of the recorder itself, but it still happens even when I’m just reading these files. Not as strongly as when I’m… recording them, perhaps, but still there. Is it…

Huh. You know, Jon always despised those witnesses who rambled on, unable to stay on topic, couldn’t give as concise a statement. Yet here I am, mumbling my vague suspicions of being watched, and completely ignoring the reason I’m making a statement of my own. How he would scoff at me…oh well.

My assistants and I have been exploring the tunnels.

I could’ve done it myself, but I don’t dare to do such a thing alone and while the threat of Prentiss has been eliminated, there might be other things lurking in the shadows of the tunnels. So I breached the topic to my assistants and they were instantly onboard. I am truly blessed to have them in my life.

Anyways, we decided to explore the tunnels for the first time tonight. We brought one torch each for our adventure down through the trapdoor. If Sasha hadn’t thought to clearly mark it with hazard tape, I’m not sure we would ever have found it again, but there it was. It took several minutes of fumbling before she was able to figure out how to lift the concealed handle and expose the lock, but she managed it. The key turned with a click that I found oddly satisfying, and she pulled it open. When I had thought about that moment before, I had always imagined it groaning open with a tortured, ominous creak, but it was almost silent. It glided open as though on freshly oiled hinges, with only the faintest puff of stagnant air being released from beneath it.

The opening was utterly black, with the faintest hint of decay in the cold, clammy air that rushed out of it. The stairs down it were steep, far steeper than I remembered them from when I had first climbed out, but those memories are… unreliable, and tinged with other, more potent, experiences. I turned my w-um…torch on, and was pleased by how easily it penetrated the darkness, illuminating the rough, grey stone below. I was expecting my torch to be met by hundreds of decaying worm husks, but the passage seemed to be empty. We headed down into the tunnel, closing the trapdoor behind Martin who was the last one in our little expedition group.

We talked for a long while, me and my assistants about the recent changes. We’re trying to adjust to the new normalcy in our lives and how everyone else around us continues to live as they have always done before, but everything has changed for us. We have changed and I’m not entirely sure if it’s for the better. 

We bickered for a while and I didn’t notice how we all got separated until it was too late. I had just rounded a corner when I felt something was amiss. I don’t know if it was a figment of my imagination, influenced by my own anxiety, or if something really paranormal happened, but we were separated by walls. The stone walls seemed to move around us, like a living labyrinth with tunnels that sprawled around the area like a spider’s web. Suddenly, I found myself entirely alone and I was damn sure that my assistants weren’t so fortunate enough to remain together either.

It is hard to put into words how it felt to be down there, in the cool, mouldering air of the tunnels all by yourself and knowing how alone you are. Have you ever left a crowded room, and literally felt the silence as you walked out into the night? It was something like that, a sudden, quiet absence. Not in itself a fearful thing, but unsettling in a way I hadn’t noticed through the fear and adrenaline of my first time in the tunnels. I took a moment to examine the feeling, but couldn’t trace anything obvious, so I began to explore. 

My objective was obviously to find my assistants, but in the same time…I also fell victim to my own curiosity.

I already knew that I was lost. I generally consider myself to have a good sense of direction, but when several minutes passed and I hadn't reunited with my assistants or even found the path back, I became unsure of exactly which passages I had come from. I didn’t even have the excuse of the corridors all looking the same, as they varied significantly in height and construction. Some were built of sturdy brick, some seemed almost as though they had formed naturally, though in all cases it was the same dull, grey stone.

I am aware that I have compared these tunnels to a labyrinth, but to call it that wouldn’t quite be accurate, as a labyrinth is designed. It is set out with an obvious goal, even if that goal is to confuse and disorientate. This place…it felt more organic in its unpredictability, as though it had been intended to be used, to be travelled, but had gotten twisted somehow.

I found spaces that seemed intended as rooms, but without doors. Elsewhere, there were doors that seemed simply attached to the walls. Most of these were firmly shut, though some opened to reveal the flat grey stone behind. Only a handful I opened had actual rooms behind them, and in every case, I found myself wondering whether that was where Martin had found her.

There was no way to tell. Even when the police finally found Gertrude’s body, they took it, chair and all, as well as all the tapes. Evidence, they said, and they might be right, though I don’t envy them the task of going through all of them. There must have been hundreds.

I suppose in some way I do envy them a little. They are an insight into my predecessor’s time here; something I desperately want to know more about. Whatever’s on them, it must be important, because… either she chose to hide them down here, or whoever killed her did. Either way, I have a feeling it isn’t something the police are going to understand. I half-hoped to stumble across a lone cassette lying in one of the corridors, dropped or overlooked, but there was nothing. Just dark and empty tunnels, silent and unwelcoming.

I didn’t think to make a note of the time I entered the tunnels, so it was hard to say how long I had been down there, or how far I had gone, when I found the first of the worms, but it can’t have been more than a half hour. They were long dead by then. Shrivelled, stringy things, like discarded sausage casing, and it was odd to see how clear a line there was between the wormless tunnels and those where they still lay rotting. A clear line beyond which the cleaning crews had decided not to advance. When I crossed that line, I nearly expected the corpses to spring to life, turning their squirming heads towards me with a predatory lunge, but they were still. 

I most likely had a traumatic experience from my encounter with Prentiss. My family has been worried for me, especially my mother. She didn’t believe that I should’ve returned to work and taken a whole month off to rest. I disagreed. I am not made of glass, no matter what she thinks. I’m just grateful that my father was on my side, even if it took a lot of convincing on my part. 

Nonetheless, I went slower through those deeper passages, picking my footing carefully so as not to touch them. The air was colder here, suffused with the faint tang of rot, and I began to wonder how much battery I had in my torch. I had put a fresh one in before my expedition, I’m not stupid, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised that I don’t actually know how long batteries last for continuous use in a heavy-duty torch.

I hadn’t even been down there an hour, but already it felt like the light it cast was weaker, somehow, and I realised how unsure I was of my exact route back. I decided I would rather cut my first trip unnecessarily short than risk being trapped down there without light. So I turned back.

It was almost impossible to retrace my steps. I tried to remember my route using what vague oddities I could remember as landmarks: a burned door, a particularly warped corridor. But trying to find them again was useless in the winding passages. In my increasing panic to find the way out, I almost forgot the things I had originally gone down there to look for. Then I found the circle of worms.

When Tim had first described it, I had only half-believed him. I had assumed the CO2 had done some strange things to him at that point. I did tell him this once we regrouped and he was a little insufferable of how right he’s been. At this point, it was almost endearing. By the time I found it, there was little left but a thick carpet of dead worms, but a few were still embedded in the wall providing the clear outline of a circle. The ceiling was higher here, and all told it must have been about… ten feet in diameter.

Its size was not the most disconcerting thing, though. Inside the circle, the stone was… wrong somehow. Solid, but oddly wavy, like chocolate that’s melted and then rehardened. It took me a minute or two to work up the courage to wade through that shallow sea of filth, but I did, and when I touched the warped wall, it felt soft and porous. But stable. I turned and left, but not before noting that another path also appeared to have been pushed through the worms on the floor, though when it had happened or who had made it I couldn’t say.

It took me almost another hour to find the trapdoor again and I was relieved when my assistants had also managed to reunite. Apparently, they hadn’t regrouped by the trapdoor long ago and I was the last one to appear. 

They were alright, mostly shaken and all of us were eager to get out of the tunnels as fast as possible. My w…torch showed no signs of giving up, but I was still on the verge of panic. My hands were so slick with sweat that I fumbled several times with the handle before finally pushing it open bodily, and falling through onto the floor of the Archives. It was about three in the morning by that time. I had managed to reopen a few of my partially healed wounds, so me and my assistants headed home to Jon’s apartment to rest. I had made the excuse to my family that we had a little sleepover at his place, so no one would suspect me for any…paranormal adventures.

This statement will most likely be put on a hold before I form a final opinion about it. 

End recording.

[CLICK]

Since his stunt with Prentiss and nearly getting eaten alive by worms, Percy was allowed to stay at Grimmauld Place on one condition; he visits his family more frequently and keeps them in the loop. 

And it wasn’t his mother or Bill who made that rule, even if they wholeheartedly agreed. It was his father. Percy had never really thought of how his actions affected his family until they all reunited at St. Mungos and since then, Percy had felt incredibly guilty.

As his father pointed out (firmly, but not unkindly), there is nothing more horrifying for them than to find out he was nearly killed without their knowledge and if he had died, how would’ve they reacted.

So, he was heading back to the Burrow for the weekend. Percy thought about how nice it was to return home every now and then. He had to admit that he missed the comfortable warmth and the slight chaos of the Burrow, even if his family likely drove him crazy sometimes. 

It was really funny how much he had changed in six months. He had been so sure that he knew what he wanted and which direction he was going. For his whole life, he had been so certain that his fate was to work at the Ministry, just like Dad, and he would land a job that paid him well enough so his family could finally leave their poverty status and live comfortably. 

Well…that was before he got completely screwed by the Ministry and the people who ran it.

Perhaps the Magnus Institute will turn out to be a temple of paranormal things or something like that, but it paid more than well and he had gotten blessed by having wonderful coworkers turned friends. 

…he really needed to talk to Dad about that vision he had. The one that didn’t come true. But it was affecting him, that vision had been so vivid and detailed compared to most of his visions. It had frightened him that the future he was supposed to have had been altered, just because of a choice he made regarding Fudge’s offer.

How can a simple “no” just change his entire fate? 

He apparated to the Burrow and he felt fortunate that it was just a cold winter afternoon with no rain. Considering what happened last night in the tunnels and after listening to one of Gertrude’s tapes, Percy felt strangely drained of energy and he figured he could need a brief pause from his supernatural reality. 

Percy had decided to not tell his family everything , just the necessary things they needed to know. He couldn’t let them fall into danger, just because he was the head archivist. That wouldn’t do at all.

He knocked on the door of his father’s shed before he opened it. “Dad?” 

His father sat by a desk, experimenting with…something, and he lit up in a delighted surprise. “Percy? What a surprise!”

“I did promise to visit more often.” Percy smiled and let himself in. “What are you tinkering with this time?”

“Oh, I found this taping record.” His father showed him a tape recorder, it looked like a similar model of the ones he uses at work. “I don’t remember if I ever collected this particular model, but it was in here, so I must’ve had it for a while.”

His father was always over-excited about the muggle devices he collected, especially electronics. Percy had always wondered why, when he was growing up. But he couldn’t get away from the nagging thoughts in the back of his head.

That argument…no, the row he had seen in that one vision…

Percy realised that his father had been talking for a while and he hadn’t really listened at all. Something about spider web inside the tape recorder (considering all the muggle junk he had collected for probably two decades, that was to be expected). He took his chance when his father finally finished his thoughts of the matter (whatever that was). 

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

“...do you remember last summer, before I started at the institute but after the Triwizard Tournament?”

His father looked up at him, a little concerned. “Yes. I do remember that.” He answered and sighed a little. “That was a horrible time for you, wasn’t it?”

“It…it’s fine.” Percy mumbled. “I assume you also remember that I nearly set my curtain on fire when a spider crawled on my hand?”

Arthur chuckled a little. “I know you have never been fond of spiders, so that must’ve been a shock to you. But try to not set anything on fire. The house is made of wood, after all.”

“I had a vision.”

Arthur stopped tinkering with the tape recorder.

Percy decided it was now or never. “It was about us two, we had a row. A serious one and it was…it was that I accepted Fudge’s offer.”

There. He finally said it.

Arthur turned around and looked gravely at him, his blue eyes lost any trace of the previous mirth. “That’s why you have been so odd since then.” He concluded before he sighed. “Ginny told me that you were deeply upset about a vision, but she never explained why and said it was something you needed to address by yourself.”

Percy crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed. “Of course she would tattle…” He muttered.

“She was worried. And so am I, for that matter.” Arthur told him and rose up from his chair. “Percy…how seriously do you take your visions?”

“Very seriously.” Percy answered and resisted the urge to scoff. Why wouldn’t he take his visions seriously? What he saw in the future was immutable, it was impossible to change and his sight was absolute! 

But why did that change with that one decision?

“My vision has never been wrong before.” Percy said and he released his arms, looking at his hands as if they were stained. “Everything I have seen…they have always come true, no matter what I did or said. Why was that one time different? I was supposed to accept that job, lose my standing in this family…become forsaken and imprisoned by my own fate I have shaped. I was supposed to become nothing more than a family traito-”

“Percival, none of that!”

His father wasn’t the one parent to scold, but Percy had forgotten how firm he could be. 

“You are many things, Percy. But never call yourself that, regardless if it happened or not.”

“But I said so many awful things to you in that vision!” Percy protested, his self-control of his emotions was slowly slipping away. “Things that might not be true, but nonetheless, I said them! I threw everything back at your face, just to hurt you more as you hurt me in that future. How come it changed?! How can just one simple word change the immutable future I had always known?!”

“Percy.” His father said and cupped his face in his hands. “The future isn’t immutable. You misunderstand your gift. Gaining visions of the future may not be a gift for you, but the future is unpredictable. It can change. This vision changed because you were warned by your own foresight. The path you were supposed to head out on is a dangerous one, both to you and the world we live in. If you had truly taken that path and become all alone…there is nothing worse than being completely alone in a full-scale war and knowing how alone you truly are.”

“But I-”

“Listen to me, son.” Arthur interrupted him. “You are more than just your future sight. You’re not a tool. I don’t have that gift, but I once knew someone who did. I have a better understanding of it than you believe.”

His future sight wasn’t immutable…?

“Your fate changed with one word, because you were warned and you wanted a different path.” Arthur reminded him and released his face. “I’m just thankful that your own foresight wanted to save you from a life full of pain and fear. But you need to know this; it doesn’t matter if we fight or not, I wouldn’t stop loving you. Even if you would act foolish. Parents disagree with their children sometimes, but the bond doesn’t change because of that.”

Percy’s self control broke.

Before he knew it, he threw himself into a tight embrace and tears welled up in his eyes as his father held him. 

Years. He had been so scared and insecure about his future sight for years. Constantly worried that the future he saw could never be changed, that the deaths he would see wouldn’t be changed or saved…that the whole world would burn and he would stand useless…only able to watch, unable to help or change it…

His future sight…wasn’t absolute!

“This-this is unbecoming of me…” He whispered. “I’m an adult, I should have more control than this…”

“You’re still a teenager, Percy.” Arthur responded. “You know…I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you. You must’ve been so frightened this whole time.”

Percy buried his face in his shoulder. It was a little selfish of him, but he wanted this moment to last a little longer. He wanted to feel as if everything was going to become alright in the end, even if he was doubting the future so much. All he could see was so much pain, grief and death in the future. 

‘Let me at least pretend that something will be alright.’ Percy thought to himself.

Percy was much more subdued and embarrassed, afterwards. “I don’t think I can regain my dignity again now…” He muttered.

“Dignity is sometimes overrated.” Arthur pointed up. “If I had gotten a Galleon for every time anyone urged me to have dignity, I’d be a rich man by now.” He said as they left the shed. “Come now, I’m sure your mother and Bill will be delighted to see you.”

Dad had promised that what happened during their discussion would remain private behind closed doors. Percy didn’t feel ready to address any of this to the rest of his family…not yet, at least. 

And as expected, his mother fussed over him and claimed that he looked paler and thinner than last time she saw him. 

Bill sat by the long table, but he brightened up when he saw his younger brother on visit. “Hey, Perce. You’re doing alright?”

“As well as I can do.” Percy replied. “Everything’s gone normal in the archives, it looks like the whole…Prentiss thing never happened. Except it did and the only ones who remember that are me and my assistants.”

“It’s trauma, little brother.” Bill reached out and ruffled Percy’s curls. “Merlin, how are we supposed to find a therapist for you? Not only is it expensive, but this isn't exactly an easy thing to explain.”

“Y-you don’t have to find me a therapist!” Percy blanched at the thought that his already struggling family would spend money to try to help him. That won’t do at all! “Honestly, I wish I could forget about it. I need a distraction.”

“Ever thought about getting a hobby?” His father asked, waving his wand to get four plates for them. “I have one, after all.”

Percy thought of his next words carefully. “Dad, I don’t think taking apart muggle electronics and experimenting with them is something for me…”

“I know.” Arthur smiled mildly at him. “You’re already dealing with that taping record-”

“Tape recorder.” Percy corrected him automatically.

“-on a daily basis.” His father finished, as if he was never interrupted. 

It was nice to sit down and have dinner again with his family. His mother’s cooking was divine as always (living with Sirius involved more takeout or simple dishes as mash and bangers).

“Music, perhaps?” Bill suggested. “You got rid of that horrible painting at Sirius’ place, so you can be as noisy as you want!”

Percy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, thank you. I know because Sirius has been blasting loud music to celebrate. I don’t know where he found that record player along with records, but if I have to listen to Another One Bites The Dust one more time, I’m going to scream.” He said dryly.

Arthur looked surprisedly at his third son. “I thought you liked Queen?”

“Not listening to their music for several days in a row!” Percy scoffed. “Thank Merlin he stopped. Although he’s been strangely moody for some reason. Tonks came over to talk with him and Remus while I was at work, but I don’t know what they talk about. I think it was rather personal.” He trailed off and thought for a while. “I do hope he’s okay.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s alright.” His mother said as she handed over a large serving to Percy. “He’s got Remus for company, so I’m sure he’s fine without you tonight.”

“Mother, I really don’t need to eat that much-”

“You’re far too thin, Percy!” She insisted. “I need to feed you up while you’re here, at least. Maybe send some leftovers for you and Sirius. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

Very little could change his mother’s mind and Percy was resigned to that fact. He knew that his mother cared very passionately, even if she was quick to jump to conclusions and was very overprotective. 

“Well, thank you.” Percy gave her what he thought was a kind, comforting smile. “We really appreciate it, Mother.”

“Oh, my poor baby.” Molly gushed. “Working so hard, day in and out.”

“Molly, please.” Dad sighed with a smile. “Let him eat.”

Bill snickered. “Looks like you’re becoming like Dad for every day that passes, Perce.” he muttered with a smirk. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, right?”

“I-I take that as a compliment.” Percy mumbled back, feeling his cheeks grow hot and he couldn’t help the smile. 

For just a moment…he wanted to indulge himself in the selfishness of feeling safe and content with his family. 

“I’m back.” Percy sighed as he apparated back to the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place. “My mother sends her regards…and leftovers.”

“It looks like you’ve been grocery shopping at the big mall.” Sirius joked and helped Percy with the heavy goods. “Apparently, she doesn’t think I can feed you.” He scoffed.

“Mother has always been like this. I think she shows more appreciation to you now, considering what happened just before the holidays.”

“Glad I could impress her eventually.” Sirius smirked.

They stored the leftover food (and it wasn’t in small quantity either) in the tall cupboard that functioned as a muggle refrigerator, except it was powered by low temperature spells, such as the Glacius charm.

Sirius took stock of what they had. “Let’s see…well, I think we’re good for another two weeks.”

They had a pleasant evening. Sirius’ record player played different songs for a change while they sat in the parlour and played a fun muggle word board game. 

Percy found it surprisingly easier to smile now. Yes, there was the investigation about Gertrude Robinson, but apart from that…he couldn’t see anything life threatening or dangerous going on for now. After all, Prentiss was gone, his friends weren’t getting their memories wiped and his bonds to his friends and family had gotten stronger.

‘I think it’s safe to assume that the worst is behind me now.’

Chapter Text

Let’s get cracking, as my grandad says!” Jenny exclaimed and dropped a large heap of books on the table, thus startling both Harry and Ron who were trying and failing to focus on their latest Potions assignment.

It was a couple of days since Harry was interviewed by Skeeter and in the meantime, Jenny had decided, which Hermione agreed, that they needed a crash-course in how to succeed in Potions and she was going to teach them, as their self-proclaimed, unofficial potion genius. 

Not that Harry or Ron complained, but they had better plans for their limited spare time than study . 

“I have to train Quidditch!” Ron protested.

“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you slacked off with homework.” Jenny pointed out and shrugged. She did have the same opinion as Hermione sometimes, even if they were vastly different. 

For example, Jenny didn’t force anyone to study and she never argued or yelled about why they were wrong. Instead, she stated the oblivious or could give the silent treatment. 

She flipped the pages in Percy¨s binder, at the section of “Potions”. “And I’m not saying it’s homework. Both of you need to think back at what you have learnt in the potion making classes because that is generally what OWLs is about. What have you learnt so far?”

“Throw a crocodile heart at the bully and the punishment for that is worth it.” Ron smirked.

Jenny gave him a flat stare. “...I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” She said and looked at Harry.

He shrugged. “To not throw fireworks in a potion, even for a distraction. And the dungeons are cold in winter.”

Jenny looked at Hermione. “What have they been doing!?” She exclaimed incredulously. 

“Told you they would take this as a joke.” Hermione huffed.

“Well, that ends now!” Jenny decided. “It’s February already and the OWL exams are in June. Therefore, I’ve got around…hang on.” She counted on her fingers, muttering. “Ah. I’ve got five months to turn a couple of Dreadfuls into two Exceeds Expectations.”

“Why not just stop at an Acceptable?” Ron asked. “Mum can’t complain on an Acceptable and I can simply say I did my best. It’s a passing grade!”

“It’s the least passing grade.” Jenny scoffed. “And because wouldn’t it blow Snape’s mind if you two get Exceeds Expectations?” She added, grinning widely. “Oh, I need to make plans! And lists, I need to make a list for each year and sort them out, from the most important to the basic knowledge. We could have a little mock-exam competition once every month…oh, so much to do!”

Hermione was more than motivated to help out Jenny with this idea and she approved of it.

“So potions is probably her hyperfixation.” Harry said, watching as Hermione helped Jenny to sort out their plans. 

“Hyperfixation?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, remember what Martin said back at Grimmauld Place?” Harry answered. “He said that Jenny has autism, so she thinks and experiences things differently. Also that there are things she’s extremely passionate about, so…hyperfixation.” he gave a casual shrug. “That’s just what he said, I don’t really know anything about autism…except what Uncle Vernon thinks of it and I don’t want to think about that.”

Hermione interrupted them. “Or perhaps you could ask her questions instead of speculating?”

Both Harry and Ron looked at the girls and noticed that they were already done with their plans while they talked. Jenny, however, looked at them with a good natured smile. 

“I don’t mind questions, you know. Grandad says that there are no stupid questions, just stupid people.” 

To Harry’s surprise, Ron asked before he had a chance to come up with a question himself. 

“How does it work?” He instantly went off. “How did you get diagnosed when most wizards don't even understand what autism is? No one ever talks about it and I’ve never seen St. Mungos deal with that. Is it a temporary thing? Can you get cured?”

“First of all, I can’t get cured because there is nothing wrong with me.” Jenny said firmly. “It's a really common mistake everyone makes. They think because someone is different, there is something wrong with you.” She frowned as she thought about the next thing she was gonna say. “Okay, I’ll give you a crash-course in what autism is.”

She settled down in one of the red, plush armchairs. “Okay, autism is a developmental condition and it’s typically life-long. I experience difficulties with communication, social interaction and restricted or repetitive interests and behaviours. I also have sensory issues, such an oversensitivity or undersensitivity to sounds, smells or touch.”

“So…you’re just different.” Harry concluded. “You think and feel either strongly or not strong enough about things.”

“I do have stims as well.” Jenny said. “It’s like movements that seem random, but it helps me to think more clearly. I like to bounce my leg a lot or flap my hands. Or just squeeze a soft ball in my hand.” 

“So the infinity-shaped pin you’re wearing on your robes then?” Harry asked and pointed at said metal pin that was nailed on Jenny’s school robes. 

“Oh, it’s the symbol of neurodiversity. That means that while we’re different up here-” She pointed at her forehead. “We’re not so different from each other. There is no “right” way to be who we are and being different isn’t a flaw. It’s a strength and it unifies us, like how all the colours are separate and still together in a rainbow.”

It was strange, but Harry felt oddly inspired by Jenny’s speech which obviously came from the heart. She doesn’t view herself being different as a burden or a flaw. For her, being different was her strength and she was proud of who she was. 

Harry wondered if Jenny had always felt like that or if she recently came to terms with how she felt about her diagnosis.

“But why do you wonder so much about autism?” Jenny then asked.

Ron didn’t meet her eyes and muttered something under his breath. “Just wondering.” He said at last. “The whole thing you said about being different and thinking differently…it just made me think about Percy.” He then rose up. “Hey, is your falcon back yet?”

“Yeah, Loki returned this morning.” Jenny answered. 

“Good, I want to send a letter.” Ron said and then he stomped upstairs to the dorms.

Hermione stared after him and sighed. “I really don’t know what’s with him, he’s been like this for a while now.”

“Percy nearly died.” Harry reminded her. “That night Mr Weasley got attacked by the snake…we didn’t know Percy was also in mortal danger until Snuffles told us. Maybe he’s thinking about that?”

“Yeah, cause he’s been an arse to Percy and then he nearly died.” Ginny had just joined them and sat down on Ron’s previous spot. “He’s not the only one. Fred and George haven't teased or pranked Percy too much either under the Christmas break. You all noticed that, right?”

“Kind of, there was too much going on.” Harry admitted. 

“Well, they’ve been stupid to him for a long while and now, he nearly died and suddenly they realised how they’ve been acting to Percy. I know my brothers. Right now, they’re feeling guilty because they can’t think about a place without Percy and that scares them.”

“How are you feeling about it then?” Hermione asked carefully.

“Obviously I’m sad and angry. Angry because I can’t punch whoever hurt him and sad because I can’t remember the last nice thing I said to Percy.” Ginny said frustrated. “Like…Percy’s always there, but also not there. He’s just in the background, like some silly decoration and we’ve never cared until now.” She finished explaining and the youngest Weasley daughter glared down at her brother’s homework as if it insulted her. 

“You know.” Ginny then said.”I’ve always assumed he’ll always be there whenever I or the others needed him…but since that night Dad got attacked and we found out Percy could die and we didn’t even know…what if there won’t be a next time? What if the next time something happens to Perce and…well, it turns out we just took him for granted.”

Harry had no idea what to say. What could he even say? He liked Percy, he’s been sort of an older brother for him too, but he was sometimes a little overbearing and he didn’t like to be scolded whenever he broke rules (which was a mostly necessity to save the school) or fussed over whenever they showed signs of a mild cold.

And still…Harry couldn’t think of a world without Percy. It just wasn’t right. Most of the time, he thought Percy was a little pompous. But other than that, he was very kind, responsible, gentle and caring. 

“I don’t want him to die.” Ginny finally said. “I saw him crying on Christmas Day. I was just gonna give him my gift and walked into his room without knocking. He was crying. I don’t know what he sees in his stupid visions, but it almost destroys him. He thinks that everything he sees is set in stone.”

“But isn’t Divination a very inexact branch in magic?” Hermione countered. 

“Percy’s different.” Ginny insisted. “We don’t really talk about his gift, cause it’s too hard to understand. He doesn’t come with prophecies, but he has visions and it depends on how strong they are. I don’t know how, but they always turn out true, in one way or another.” She explained and leaned back on the couch. “He almost had a prophecy, once. I don’t know what he was seeing or what was going on, I was just six. But it was hurting him and before we had a chance to understand what was happening, he started to hurt himself on purpose. Dad forced him to stop. Mom forbade us from asking about what he saw. I don’t know what he saw, but it must’ve been horrible.”

“But if it was a real prophecy, how could he stop it? Doesn’t that mean it will happen for real?” Harry asked. 

“It’s just a half-done prophecy.” Ginny shrugged with a sour expression. “Bill told me that a prophecy is a glass ball, just as big as a Remembrall. The one Percy made, the half-done one, has a large crack across it because it wasn’t finished. Bill told me about that, but it’s because I pestered him about it.”

“So he nearly gave a full prophecy at eleven years old?” Hermione asked, nearly flabbergasted. “And it was hurting him?”

“Dad said his Seer powers were too strong for him.” Ginny said. “We don’t know what he saw, but it made him scared as hell. He was shaking like he was possessed and he didn’t stop crying about unnatural monsters. Then he had a nap for hours and guess what? He forgot everything about what he saw.”

“He forgot?!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Yeah, he did. Ron asked about what he saw and Percy was really confused about that. Then Dad told us to not ask more about that and there was that.” Ginny finished. “Percy’s got really strong future-seeing powers, but the only prophecy he ever made is half-done and he doesn’t even remember it anymore.”

“So he really is a Seer then.” Harry said slowly. “Do you think that's why he took Divination? To get a better understanding of the subject?”

“Maybe? What do I know?” Ginny said casually. “He got an Outstanding in that, so he must’ve really impressed professor Trelawney.”

Hermione gave a haughty scoff at that; it was no secret that she disliked Divination due to her experience with professor Trelawney.

“At least Percy’s visions are more accurate. If being an archivist doesn’t work out, do you think he can replace Trelawney?” Ginny grinned.

“I think he likes the muggle world too much to leave it.” Harry pointed it out. “We had his assistants over for Christmas and he seems to really like them.”

“Especially the Stoker bloke.” Ginny remarked and got in a better mood. “Fred and George already have a betting pool about those two.”

“Hi, Dad and Mom. 

 

School’s okay and Quidditch is also okay. I know this is sudden, but do you know anything about autism? I asked Jenny Blackwood (remember her? Our new friend and Martin’s sister) about it, since she has autism. I just thought a lot she described made it sound a lot like Percy.

 

Do you think there’s a chance he could have autism too?

 

Ginny sends hugs. 

 

Ron.

PS. I sent a note explaining autism, Jenny wrote that one. She also sends thanks for the caramel fudge and the jumper.”

Arthur set down the letter and sighed heavily. 

“Autism.” He then said, feeling like a big failure as a father. “I thought he was just quirky in his own way, but if he has autism, then I really have failed him.”

“Don’t you say such a thing, Arthur.” Molly scolded him as she toiled around in the kitchen, preparing dinner for three. “We couldn’t have known, it isn’t as if we could’ve picked up on that or there was a pamphlet in St. Mungos! Not to mention that the vultures at the Ministry keep regarding that as a “weakness”. Look at Jenny and she is such a clever, young witch!”

It wasn’t exactly news of the decade that their Ministry was conservative and a little narrow minded at certain topics, but Molly Weasley would never accept anyone, in that blasted ministry, to badmouth her children, legally adults or not. No one was going to call her little boy “weird” and get away with it.

Yes, Percy was different. But wasn’t everyone different in their way?

However, she knew that her husband took it harder because he had always worked hard to provide his family with the best care, despite their low economy. And the thought of him missing something so important and right in front of his eyes lowered his confidence.

Jenny Blackwood’s note about autism, which explained the diagnosis accurately, had helped them to understand it more. Technically, it’s just a condition , not an illness. Autism has no cure and it shouldn’t because there is nothing wrong with autistic people. 

But not everyone has the same mindset and Arthur was genuinely concerned that his son might be painted as a target. If conservative extremists were so hung up on the whole blood status thing…how would they react to autism in wizards?

But at the same time…he wanted Percy to get the best help he deserved. 

“I don’t even know how to proceed with this.” Arthur said. “Is there a way to contact Jenny’s grandfather?”

“He travelled back to America, I heard.” Molly answered. “But her brother Martin works with Percy. Oh! Maybe he can bring him over for a small visit? I’m sure Percy always wanted to bring over a friend.”

“Molly, he isn’t a child anymore.” Arthur chuckled. “It’s an idea, but I’m against it. Percy isn’t stupid, he’s inclined to suspect something if we ask him to bring over one of his friends. No, I’d like to address this to him personally. There’s also another thing I want to talk to him about.”

“Is it about those…” Molly grimaced about the thing that happened to Percy. “Well, about Prentiss?”

“It is about Prentiss.” Arthur confirmed with a grim expression. “I had plenty of time to think while I was recovering from that serpent. I didn’t even know that I could’ve lost him on the same day I was attacked.”

He glanced over at the clock, blue eyes watching the handle as it was still pointing at “work”.

(He and Molly glanced at Percy’s handle more often since the attack on the Institute…)

Arthur wasn’t entirely sure if that muggle institute was safe for his son anymore.

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

“-Finally, I reached the top flight of stairs. I could hear shouting from the bell room. It was Mike – he was screaming something that sounded like a chant, or a prayer. Most of it was in languages I didn’t know, but I could make out the words “altiora,” “vertigo,” and “the vast.”

I reached the top, and there I saw Mike, standing before an open window. He held the book before him like a protective ward, and in front of him was a strange, branching figure. It crackled and fizzed, lit by a strobing white light, as though the lightning was within the room itself.

It was just standing there, like it couldn’t approach. As Mike reached the crescendo of his invocation, with a cry of “I am yours,” he leapt through the open window, and – presumably – to his death.

The strange figure cried out, a sound like tearing sandpaper, and seemed to be dragged through the window with him. The sharp smell vanished instantly, and I was alone in the dark.

I say “presumably” about his jumping almost a hundred feet to his death because, when I went out, I could find no body at the base of the tower. Neither could the police, who obviously treated me like a lunatic. When the sky cleared shortly afterwards, it became apparent that all the windows to the bell chamber were closed and sealed.

I never saw Michael Crew or the Leitner book again.

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

Michael Crew. That is another name that has made its appearance more than once regarding the Leitners and now, twice regarding this specific volume.

The events here seem to have taken place a couple of years after those of the previous statement relating to this matter. Could his exposure to The Boneturner’s Tale have catalysed an interest in Jurgen Leitner? Or perhaps an early experiment? It seems as though he was attempting to use the book as protection against whatever was chasing him. Did The Boneturner’s Tale not work in that regard…? And what was it that chased him, bringing that smell with it?

It is a shame that Ex Altiora was burned in the end. I would have been fascinated to read it. Even if it’s just wishful thinking, Jon, the reserve archivist, has advised against it as he seems to bear a vendetta against Leitners.

The book which Mr. Knox received did not seem to have a woodcut of the dark night sky, with the branching, arching design of the Lichtenberg figure.

End recording.

[CLICK]

Percy leaned back in his office chair and sighed. He was getting through the statements easier now, but it didn’t mean he didn’t get tired. At least he wasn’t exhausted after just one statement recording, though. 

He took out the tape and marked the label as case 9882112 and added a fitting title (something Jon was against since he thought it was silly, but Percy thought that every statement needed a good title), “Literary Heights”.

The desk telephone then started to ring. 

How odd. He never had calls before.

Percy picked up the phone receiver and answered. “Yes? Percy Weasley speaking, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.

“Hello!”

Percy nearly jumped out of his skin. “Dad?!” He yelped in surprise. “And you’re a little too loud, try to tone it down.” He attempted to keep down his own almost-laugh.

“Ah yes, sorry for that.” His father said on the other end. “Listen, I know we only saw you for a couple of days ago, but is it possible that you could come over? There is something I need to talk to you about.”

Oh.

Percy noticed that his dad didn’t sound too happy and that was when it dawned on him that he hadn't exactly talked to his parents when it came to the whole deal about Prentiss and what happened to him close to Christmas. 

He remembered he talked about it at the hospital, but he had a feeling that a discussion between him and his parents wasn't far off…

“W-well, yes. Yes, I could do that.” Percy answered. “I…ah, I’m not in trouble, am I?”

“No. Not at all. We just want to talk to you about some things that have happened lately.”

Percy knew this wouldn’t be an easy or fun discussion to have with his parents, but he had braced himself for it…sort of. He was just amazed at how long it had taken. He supposed that Dad convinced Mother to let him rest on his own first. 

“I understand. I’ll head home after work, does that sound good?”

“Quite so, yes. Take care of yourself and we’ll see you then.”

“See you, Dad. Ta-ta!”

So they hung up.

Percy couldn’t help to think about how his father quickly got the hang of the telephone. Oh well, he dealt with Muggle artefacts and inventions since it was a vital part of his work, so perhaps that wasn’t so surprising. Percy wondered if Dad liked the Christmas gift he got him this year (an old VCR player he had found in a thrift store). Knowing his father, he was probably over the moon.

‘I do wonder…’ Percy thought to himself, pondering while he inspected the following-up from Sasha’s latest task. ‘What does he want to talk about?’

Percy then noticed something that looked odd in his pile of paperwork. An envelope he was pretty sure that he had never seen before. Curious as always, Percy pulled it out and inspected it closely. 

No postage stamp and no name from the sender. Only his name on the front. Most likely a handwritten letter from someone in the building, as it said;

Percy Weasley, Head Archivist

Intrigued, Percy opened the letter and read the contents. As his eyes kept reading furthermore, they widened and his cheeks grew hot with a maroon blush that spread to his ears. 

“Hey, 

 

This may seem strange to receive a random, anonymous love letter, but Happy Valentine’s Day! You probably can’t guess who I am, but I’ve known you for a long while and I am very fond of you. 

 

Yes, you Percival Weasley, are the most interesting man I’ve ever met. You’re really nice, compassionate and so smart. And not only do you have a wicked sense of humour, but you are also the prettiest man I’ve ever seen. 

 

Say, would you accompany me on a date to the aquarium on February 17th? Since Valentine’s Day is a work day, we have to compromise a little. I will be waiting for you outside the place at 2PM, sharply! ;) 

 

Cheers, 

 

Your secret admirer”

Percy nearly fainted.

He decided to lay down on the floor for a while and stared up at the ceiling, still in shock.

A love letter, asking for a date.

With him!

He had no idea who this could be, but he was pretty sure that it couldn’t be a prank! The contents and its emotions behind it felt far too genuine and too real for it to be the setup of a cruel prank. Not even Fred and George would’ve done such a thing to him.

Sure, they were pranksters. But even Percy knew they had their limits and they would never go so far to humiliate him like this. Besides, they have somehow become… nicer …since his encounter with Prentiss. 

Who could it be?

He could count out Martin, he knew that the other ginger was head over heels for Jon. It seemed unlikely it would be Jon, since he had never given any other hints that he was romantically interested in him. 

It could be Tim (oh please, don’t go that way, he couldn’t give himself false hopes…), but Percy had a hard time to believe that someone so charismatic, handsome and fun like Tim would ever glance at his way.

Sasha could be a choice, but he wasn’t entirely sure if she had ever given dating a thought. She had seemed more interested in whatever happened around her and learning about the wizarding world.

Perhaps it was from one of the other departments? Such as Finance, Research, Human Resources or even the Library? It was possible. He didn’t know them too well, but he had met with employees from other departments and he had always tried to be friendly and well-mannered to everyone. Perhaps he caught someone’s fancy like that?

…or it could be from Elias.

No.

NO.

Percy sat up and shook his head. Nope, not going that route. He already had a stupid near-office-drama back when he worked in the Department of Magical International Cooperation and developed a “crush” on Mr Crouch (the truth was that he did, very briefly, and no, he never mentioned this to anyone and he’d rather die than letting his brothers find out about that).

He wasn’t going to open another can of worms again.

Not to mention that the date was soon...he needed to come to a decision already tonight, since February 14th had passed and he was getting closer to the deadline. Today was the 16th…and the date was tomorrow.

Merlin…what was he supposed to do?

Percy rose up from the floor and stuffed the Valentine’s letter in his pocket. He had three days to think about the date…if he would decide to go. 

He had gone on dates before, with Penny. But for some reason, it had felt more like an outing to Hogsmeade with a best friend. It wasn’t until the end of his seventh year when he and Penny decided to part as friends (she discovered she was a lesbian while he realised that he was gay, they had a laugh about that later). They still kept contact, even if it wasn’t often. 

Well, he needed to go and see what his father wanted to talk about, first of all.

Then he could worry about the date.

He did not panic about that, absolutely not!

Meanwhile at Hogwarts, another scene was brewing.

No pun intended.

“Okay, all my plans are done now!” Jenny said on the evening of February 16th. “I couldn’t have done this without Hermione, though.”

“Do we really have to?” Ron muttered. He had better plans than a revision of everything they learnt in Potions or more like what he hadn’t learnt because he thought it was a waste of time.

“Yes, you do!” Jenny scoffed and crossed her arms. “I really want you two to succeed and just because Snape can’t teach, it doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t get all the possibilities in the world! Besides, your brother’s binder of everything he learnt in Potions was really helpful!”

“That huge thing?!” Ron exclaimed and gestured to the large binder Percy had sent Hermione, who was re-reading the whole thing for “fun’s sake”. “Percy could publish it as a textbook already!”

Harry looked at Jenny. “Look, do we really need to do this?”

“Well, I’m obviously a better teacher than Snape.” Jenny remarked dryly. “Harry, don’t you ever wonder what to do after Hogwarts?”

Well…now when she said that…

Harry suddenly realised that he had never considered what to do after his time at Hogwarts was done. He had simply set a goal to somehow pass all his subjects to an acceptable grade and try his luck in the wizarding world. 

He had briefly considered working as an Auror, though. And the only thing he felt he was truly good at was Quidditch. 

“What about you, Ron?” Jenny asked the other ginger.

Ron shrugged. “Dunno, never really thought about that.” He answered and took a bite of a pumpkin pastry in his hand. “Bill and Charlie always knew what they wanted to do. Percy too, until the Ministry screwed him over. Fred and George are really dead-set on their joke shop…” He voiced his thoughts. “...it’d be bloody amazing to be an Auror, though.”

“Great! Then a couple of Exceeds Expectations is in order!” Jenny grinned. “I’m aiming for an Outstanding, myself. Anyways, I finished my plans and this is what we’ll do!”

Jenny apparently decided that they revise every weekend and in exactly a month, they would have a little quiz competition which would cover everything they should know of the first year potions. 

Harry wasn’t exactly sure how Hermione and Jenny expected to pull that off, but both of the girls were pretty determined. Both he and Ron were horrified at their solutions to make them succeed; for every wrong they do, they will put make-up on them.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?” Percy asked. 

He had to admit, he was really nervous about this meeting with his parents. He had almost never been in trouble with either of them, so it felt strange to be on the receiving end of what felt like he was gonna get scolded.

“Prentiss.” Arthur simply said.

Molly sighed. “Arthur, do you really need to? It’s over and dealt with, he’s okay-”

“No, he isn’t.” Her husband shook his head. “Percy, I don’t think you can imagine what I felt when I heard that you had been in mortal danger on the very same day I was attacked by that serpent in the Ministry.”

Percy knew that his father would never drop this, even if Prentiss was nothing but ashes now, so it was best to address the matter. “T-to be honest, my memories are a little hazy from that day. I do remember everything that happened during the attack at the Magnus Institute…but everything is blurry thereafter.”

“You came to St. Mungos at three, nearly four in the morning. By that point, I was out of danger but I was lucid enough at St. Mungos to see you being taken to the intensive care unit.” Arthur nearly struggled to say those words. 

Percy felt cold inside. “You were there too, weren’t you?” He asked softly. “There’s no other way you could’ve seen my state…”

“I was moved from the emergency unit thirty minutes after you came in.” Arthur continued and tried to chase away that horrible memory from his mind. The image of seeing his son, most likely gravely injured, lying nearly lifeless on a hospital bed haunted him. “Those scars you have…”

Percy looked at his left hand, staring at the almost-healed small, round scars. 

“You were wrapped in bandages, but your wounds kept bleeding out. You were nearly covered in them.” 

Percy was shaken to his core. He had never seen his father so distraught about anything, not even when their economy made a terrible dive or whenever he was taunted or humiliated for their social status. Never seen him show any form of weakness at all!

His mother, bless her heart, covered her mouth and shut her eyes tightly. Her shoulders were trembling when she heard what her husband described, trying to prevent terrified sobs from leaking out.

“Percy, do you realise that you could’ve died?” Arthur finally said. 

Well, it was now or never…

“I knew.” Percy confessed. “I…I knew that I would most likely die that day.”

The kitchen was completely silent, only disturbed by the clock ticking away.

“R-remember when I came over for dinner, weeks before Prentiss attacked? Back in November.” Percy began with a trembling voice. “And…I asked you if there was a third thing apart from Muggles and Wizards?”

Arthur went pale at that. “Oh…Good Lord.” He whispered in horror. “Please don’t tell me that you were indirectly asking for help…”

Percy didn’t answer. He just gave a small nod, trying to ignore how his eyes stung and burned.

“Damn it!” Arthur swore, covered his face in his hands while his wife started to fully sob. “Percy, I…Good Heavens, Percy. I didn’t even realise…I could’ve lost you and I didn’t even know you asked for help!”

Something in Percy broke. “I-I’m sorry!” He exclaimed and tears welled up in his eyes, making his sight blurry. “I-I couldn’t see you in the eyes and say that I was in danger! Not after everything that happened with Ron, Ginny and Harry for the past four years…I couldn’t put such a burden on any of you! I-I got scared, but I didn’t know how to handle it! I wanted to ask for help, but I’m rubbish at that and…I got desperate! It was bad enough that me and my assistance was threatened, but I got scared that Prentiss might also target my family! I just couldn’t let that happen!”

Suddenly his chair was turned to his left side and he was pulled up at his feet. Then he found himself wrapped in a pair of strong yet gangly arms. He blinked, letting his tears fall, and realised he was being embraced by his father.

Dad.

His dad…

“I’m sorry I scared you.” Percy mumbled. 

It was strange. Percy had gotten many hugs in his lifetime; from his parents and his siblings. But for some reason, this felt different. He felt grounded, as if he was nearly drifting on the open ocean and his dad kept him steady, like an anchor.

Percy also got embraced by his mother. “Now you listen here.” Molly said, suddenly very strictly. “If you need us, we are right here! I don’t like sending you back to that institute at all, but I suppose your friends will watch over you.”

“Mum…” Percy sighed. He gets into danger one time and his family never forgets it. He had a feeling that his mother, and Bill to some extent, will become more overbearing now. “I can take care of myself. Prentiss is gone after all, so I don’t think another dangerous monster will appear again.”

“You can’t know that.” Arthur pointed out. “Your mother is right, I don’t feel comfortable with sending you back to the institute.”

Percy blinked owlishly. His dad doubting a muggle institute? That has to be a first, but considering what happened to him and how he nearly died (but he didn’t!), he supposed that even his muggle-loving father had his limits. 

“But you do trust me, right?” Percy insisted.

“Of course we do.” Arthur replied. “It’s the world out there we don’t trust. Especially when there’s apparently a third thing that targets both muggles and wizards.”

Well…that was fair, Percy supposed. 

“Right.” He whispered. “Right. It…it wasn’t something else you wanted to talk about, was it?”

Arthur shared a look with his wife. “Actually…there is another thing and you probably need to sit down for this.”

Percy sat down on the chair, looking at his parents and felt confused about this. He had thought the discussion about Prentiss would be near unbearable to talk about, but it seemed like there was something else that was an equally tense subject.

“Percy, listen.” Arthur said as he and his wife took a seat by the long table, facing their third oldest son. “I want you to know that we don’t think anything is wrong with you at all and you’ll never be anything like that. Being different and quirky is a good thing.”

Percy looked at his parents, slightly confused. “Okay…” He said slowly, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “I do know that I’m different from most, but what are you on about?”

“Since we met with the sister of your friend Martin, it had us think how similar you are to her.”

“Jenny is autistic.” Martin told him. “It means that her mind is different from most people. Like, how she thinks, how she sees the world or feels in general. There are moments when annoying sounds, like the fridge noises, seem to scream in her ears and she gets stressed and overstimulated.”

“Autism.” Percy said. The word sank into his mind, letting him understand what his parents were implying. “It’s nothing wrong with me!” He exclaimed.

“I never said so.” Arthur quickly said, but remained calm. “Remember what I said before? Being different and quirky is a good thing, not a flaw.”

“Percy, dear.” Molly said. “We don’t know much about autism, except what Jenny has said. It’s not an illness, just a condition.” She reached to hold Percy’s hand in her own. “We care about you, Percy, and we only want your best.”

He calmed down a little. It helped that his parents wouldn’t think differently of him. To be honest, if someone had asked him if he could have autism back when he worked in the Ministry, he’d scoff at them and gotten angry that people thought that something was wrong with him. 

But since he met his assistants, since he became familiar with Martin’s sister…

“Even if I have autism…” Percy began and he looked down at the wooden table. His heart was beating faster at the thought of there was something about him that he missed. “Before…well, just before , I would’ve thought something was wrong with me, that I’d be treated differently and lose any kind of normalcy. But now…”

He thought about Martin, who struggled with being a Squib and filling the role of a parent for his sister and always found the strength to be kind and smile everyday. He thought about Tim, who was so ridiculously proud of his magical little brother and put him on a high pedestal, knowing that he was treated lowly as a Squib. 

And he thought about Jenny, who actually had autism, but she still smiled everyday and she was so loved by her brother and her friends. Even if she had autism…she lived an entirely normal life with structures and routines to help her.

Maybe…maybe he could have that. 

“Meeting my coworkers changed me, Dad. By just wanting to be friends with me, they changed my entire perspective and have taught me so many life lessons.” He looked up with determination, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders. “I want to find out if I have autism, Dad! Even if it turns out that I have autism, at least I will know that there is a reason why I am different. I can’t go and wonder my whole life. I need to know.”

His father beamed at him with a relieved expression and his mother gave him one trembling yet proud smile before she started to go on about hím being her little boy and how proud she was of him. 

Percy tried to ignore the flushed burn that covered his entire face. It was remarkably easy for him to blush, for some reason.

He had a very pleasant evening and decided to stay over for the night. Eventually, Bill returned home from working late and while he was tired, he was pleasantly surprised to find his little brother back home for the night. When Percy asked about why he worked overtime, Bill deflected the question with a smooth response.

Percy had an inkling of suspicion ever since his father was attacked at the Department of Mysteries, but he didn’t press the issue. He supposed they were on a mission by the Order.

While he didn’t agree on everything Dumbledore said, he couldn’t deny the necessary role of the order and the old wizard was certainly focusing on the mission to defeat Voldemort. That was at least an admirable goal.

Percy hadn’t slept in his own bed for what felt like ages. Well, it has been a little more than six months since then and he was sure that he wouldn’t return to the Burrow until after June. 

There was a disturbing vision he had received last summer, while they were at Grimmauld Place. The details were mostly hazy, but from the few details that were clear enough, he got an idea of what was going to happen if he didn’t keep Sirius sane with some reasonable company. 

He was tired of his visions; they were accurate if they were clear with the details, but otherwise always blurry and made no sense at all. Or simply tormented him with the life he was supposed to live; alone, forsaken and miserable.

The worst part was that while his Seer powers were extremely strong, he wasn’t strong enough for that. To manage a real prophecy and be able to remember it, he needed to be in perfect sync physically, mentally and emotionally. 

As much as his Seer powers were an open secret in the family, it was almost never spoken about. Percy only knew that it came from his father’s side of the family (or more like from his paternal grandmother’s side) and he was very tight-lipped about who was the Seer before him.

‘I’m so tired of having more questions than answers.’ Percy thought as he lied back down in his bed, relishing in how much he missed his own bed in his room. Grimmauld Place is very good, if he didn’t think of all the darkness, but nothing could ever replace the homey comfort of the Burrow. 

His mother had already let Sirius know that Percy was staying the night and when Percy expressed concerns about leaving Sirius alone on his own, his mother countered that Sirius was a grown adult and he could very well take care of himself. Besides, Remus was apparently in Grimmauld Place, so he didn’t need to worry. 

Percy rolled to his side and just felt at home again.

He had really missed this. His bed with wooden frame and handcrafted quilted covers. How silent it was at night with the vague, distant sounds of his parents talking downstairs before bedtime and if he focused, then he could nearly hear the crackling sound of a merry fire.

Percy was just about to drift off to sleep when he realised that he hadn't come up for a plan about that date!

"Fuck." Percy muttered to himself and was glad that his siblings were at school.

Chapter Text

Everything hurts. 

His head throbbed in pain.

His eyes ached with tears running down.

His face stung, having scratched his skin like a mad cat.

Please stop

Someone…anyone…make it stop!

Percy was just eleven and suddenly, he couldn’t see. At least not what happened around him. All he could do was to See the things that hadn't yet come. 

But it will come.

He was Seeing…doors. Tall doors with golden frames, like a vault. 

-bring all that is terror

Five tall doors…all of them had something horrible inside. 

He felt cold like he was stripped bare in a horrible blizzard.

He screamed as he felt an overwhelming sense of terror and fear.

He ran desperately through a dark forest, trying to find his way back.

He cried in fear as he felt restricted in four, tight walls around him, deep down beneath the ground.

He was floating and sinking at the same time, letting the air out of his lungs.

He stood in front of a hellscape land with no end, barren ground and scarlet skies with lightning, hearing menacing growls and tentacles that wrapped around his body…

Percy screamed.

Everything stops all of a sudden.

The pain is gone. There is no longer a sharp, agonising pain that makes him wish he was dead. His body still aches, but everything is…calm. 

He feels himself being held by someone. Something soft wrapped around and embraced by slim yet strong arms. 

Percy’s blue eyes snapped open and he shot right up in his bed, trying to calm his racing heart. 

That dream…he hadn’t had that dream for ages. Not since it happened and he had thought that he forgot it. 

His Seer powers fully emerged when he was eleven, shortly after his birthday and it had been a painful, horrible memory that he forgot about. Most Seers usually forgot the prophecies they made, due to the burden of having the inner sight was too heavy and to fully remember their visions and prophecies, a Seer needed to have their physical, emotional and mental state in perfect balance.

Percy never had any of those, at least not in the same time and that was a given, considering that he was only a child when his first “prophecy” was made. All prophecies were contained in a glass sphere…but his, as it was unfinished, had a large crack across the glass sphere and Dad had locked it away.

He didn’t want Percy to be reminded of that incident and he thought that if no one else knew about his Seer abilities apart from the family, then no one could harm him. 

‘Dad has always been overprotective in that way.’ Percy mused to himself. His father was usually very calm and easy going with a sunny smile, but he could be very protective of his family. Especially his children. 

He had never quite forgotten when Fred and George nearly made an Unbreakable Vow with Ron. They thought it was just a game, but Dad had set them straight and he had not been happy. It was the first time Percy had ever seen him get just as angry as Mum and that said something.

Nevertheless, he started his day as he always did; go up, prepare his clothes of the day and then lock himself in the bathroom for exactly 45 minutes which allowed him to shower, wash his hair, brush his teeth and dress up.

After he was done, he walked downstairs and straight to the kitchen where his mother was already awake, preparing breakfast. He felt a rush of nostalgia, remembering how he used to experience this moment every day last year when he still worked for Mr. Crouch.

“Morning, Mum.” He greeted his mother with a peck. 

“Good morning, Percy. Did you sleep well?”

“Fairly well.” Percy responded and took a seat by the long table. “I will probably need to apparate to the Institute, so I can take it easy for now.” 

It was rare that the Burrow was ever this silent. But he supposed it’s been quiet for his parents since Ginny started at Hogwarts and the usually crowded, loud house had fallen silent.

It suddenly dawned to Percy how lonely his parents must’ve felt with all their remaining children (as Bill and Charlie had left for jobs outside the country) at the school for ten months of the year and only having their children back for around two months.

As much as Percy would love to return home to the Burrow…he can’t do that until after he had twisted Sirius’ fate. Even if he didn’t have a clear picture of what would happen to him, he did know that something would happen in June and he needed to stay close to Sirius until the danger had passed.

If Harry lost Sirius…he would never forgive himself for letting that happen.

Percy shook his head from horrible thoughts. He put the blame entirely on Tim for influencing him, but he needed to think more positively. So he enjoyed the breakfast with his mother and soon enough, Bill appeared as soon as he caught the scent of eggs, bacon, toast and sausages.

“Mornin’ Mum!” Bill grinned and looked at Percy. “Hey, you’re still here? I thought you’d be in London by now.”

“I can just apparate to the Archives, now that they know.” Percy responded. 

Bill sat down and helped himself a plate full with eggs, sausages and potatoes. “And your little friends know you can do that?”

“Well, Tim and Martin know what it is.” Percy said. “I suppose Jon and Sasha are in for a surprise.”

Bill smirked. “You’re naughty, Perce.”

“Nonsense, I’m an angel.” Percy said with an angelic smile.

[CLICK] 

JON

Statement of Andrea Nunis, regarding a series of encounters in the streets of Genoa, Italy Original statement given 25th March, 1980.

Statement begins-AH!

[A LOUD CRACK IS HEARD AND JON YELPS]

ARCHIVIST

(cheerfully) Good morning, Jon.

JON

(sputtering) What the-Percy! Where did you come from?! You just appeared out of nowhere!

[THE ARCHIVIST CHUCKLES A LITTLE]

ARCHIVIST

Well, I just apparated here. It’s a special kind of magic, where I can transport myself fast and soundless like a ghost. Although only the most skilled wizards can do that. It’s very complicated, but that was the simple explanation.

JON

So you can just teleport yourself, no matter the distance?

ARCHIVIST

Indeed. 

(BEAT.) 

(alarmed) Jon, is that tape recorder on?

JON

Why, yes- (realises) Oh God.

ARCHIVIST

(panicking) Turn it off, quick!

[CLICK]

“I need to tape this over later.” Percy sighed as he took out the tape from the recorder. Just because his assistants knew what he was, it didn’t mean that his secret would come out for the whole institute. 

“I already said that I was sorry-” Jon sighed irritatedly. 

“No, it’s not your fault at all.” Percy said. “I thought apparating here would be funny, especially seeing your and Sasha’s reactions. Well, I got one reaction, at least.” He looked over the tape in his hand. “Anyways, I really should’ve considered this outcome. The blame lies with me.”

Jon pursued his lips. “So…you can just teleport yourself, anywhere and anywhen?”

“Well, we call it apparition. It basically means that we can move ourselves fast and soundlessly, like a ghost. But as I said before, only the most skilled wizards can do it and for now, I can’t perfect it yet as I am nineteen.”

“It must be nice, being able to do wonderful things with magic.” Jon mused. “I truly envy you.”

Percy was flabbergasted. “Me? Do you envy me? Why?”

“Well, you have a family for starters.” Jon remarked. “I have long come to terms with the fact that I have no family at all, considering how my parents were gone before I was five and my grandmother was…well, she loved me obviously. But she wasn’t parental material and I suppose she resented me a little for raising me as her son was gone. Besides, I was a difficult child to care for.”

Percy frowned. “Well, so was I. I wasn’t easy to care for, but there is no reason to resent a child. Parental love shouldn’t be conditional, no matter if it’s your parents or grandparents who raise you!”

Jon looked a little surprised at his outburst. “And you have siblings to rely on.”

“Not always.” Percy sighed and shook his head. “Bill and Charlie already left the house by the time I was still fourteen and my younger siblings…well, I tried my best, but they’re less inclined to listen to their boring brother.”

“I don’t believe you’re boring at all.”

“Well, I am for them.” Percy said.

“They don’t seem to believe that so much anymore.” Jon pointed out.

Percy sighed heavily. “I know. I have lost my reputation as the one who never causes trouble and now, everyone is too worried about me.” He crossed his arms tightly across his torso. “It feels…strange, odd. I have grown up always knowing how my parents and siblings will react to certain situations, I’ve always made sure that they never need to worry about me and all of that…the image I have created has shattered. Worst of all, Bill has become an overbearing motherhen, more than our own mum, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Well, maybe because you’re been in danger twice and he wasn’t there to help?” Sasha said from the door opening, spooking both of the young men in the office. “Door was unlocked, by the way.”

“That might be it. Sadly, my older brothers hasn’t really been very…um, big brother-ish towards me. Whenever I needed advice, I usually went to Dad.” Percy admitted. “Was it something else you came in for, Sasha?”

“Yup, we got a live statement. Tim and Martin were trying to talk with her, but she’s distracted by drawing some map. Should I send her in?”

“Please do and tell Martin to make a cuppa for our guest?” Percy said and walked over to his desk where Jon cleared off his things (he left the tape recorder for his young boss, though) to prepare for a live statement. 

Percy figured that he could tape over the one where he performed magic. 

[CLICK]

[SOUND OF PEN SCRATCHING AGAINST PAPER IN SHARP, FRUSTRATED MOVEMENTS]

ARCHIVIST

Statement of Helen Richardson, regarding, uh… how would you describe it?

[PEN SCRATCHING CONTINUES]

ARCHIVIST

…Miss Richardson?

[PEN SCRATCHING CONTINUES]

HELEN

– uh, what?

[PEN SCRATCHING CONTINUES]

ARCHIVIST

Your experience, how would you summarise it?

[PEN SCRATCHING CONTINUES]

HELEN

Um, well, I’ve been, I’ve been trying to draw you a map, but, it doesn’t, it doesn’t work.

[PEN SCRATCHING CONTINUES; HELEN CAN NOW BE HEARD BREATHING HARD AS THE ARCHIVIST SPEAKS]

ARCHIVIST

– Right. Statement of Helen Richardson, regarding a new door in the house she was selling. Statement recorded direct from subject, February 16th, 1996. Statement begins.

[PEN SCRATCHING CONTINUES]

ARCHIVIST

…

Um…Miss Richardson?

[PEN SCRATCHING STOPS]

HELEN

There’s no left turns. Look, [paper rustles] look, none, it just, it just turns right, it doesn’t make any sense [paper rustles] no, it wasn’t a spiral because you could, you could always go forward, I mean, I –

ARCHIVIST

[overlapping] 

Well…yes, but-

HELEN

– I, I did mostly, just forward, and the paths never got shorter, like you were coming to a center, they just – kept going – it doesn’t, doesn’t make any sense! [paper rustles] Look at it –

ARCHIVIST

Ah, Miss Richardson –

[PAPER RUSTLES]

HELEN

Look at it!

ARCHIVIST

…ah yes, I am looking and you’re quite right. This map doesn’t make any sense-

HELEN

[overlapping] After a few turns-

ARCHIVIST

[overlapping] – it becomes a mess of impossible lines, yes. But it will be very useful for our investigation if you could start at the beginning. Please give us some context.

How did it start?

HELEN

What do you want to know? There wasn’t a door. And then there was.

HELEN (STATEMENT)

I worked for Wolverton Kendrick. I still do, I suppose, I haven’t officially quit, but I haven’t been back there since this happened-

“Okay, so I was digging some information about Elias.”

Tim tutted. “Naughty Sasha!” He playfully scolded his best friend. “Spying on the double boss?”

“Elias is being fishy about something and I’m gonna prove it!” Sasha said and wagged her finger at him.

They sat in the breakroom and had some tea. Or more precisely, Martin made tea while they decided to sit around and chat. They took their chance to relax a little while Percy took care of the live statement and Jon was tasked to transcribe the other statements their young boss usually recorded (it was to prevent Jon from his usual rude comments that offended the statement givers). 

“Look, he was practically worthless when Prentiss attacked us.” Sasha started. “For some reason, he was more interested in how Percy would deal with this and he insisted on me telling about the worms all over again on tape.”

“Well, I always said Douchard is a waste of a suit.” Tim joked. “So what about him?”

“Don’t you think it’s odd that he chose Percy when both me and Jon applied for the position?” Sasha asked. “Look, I really like Percy and he’s a great friend and boss. But he doesn’t even have any real job experience like we do. Me and Jon applied to the position weeks before the deadline and then Percy just appeared a couple of days before. What happens? Elias hires him on the spot. Just one interview and it’s done!”

“Hold on, you think Elias is fishy because he hired Percy straight as the head archivist?” Martin inquired and set down two cups of steaming tea for his coworkers. 

“Yeah, that’s not all.” Tim smirked. “Elias keeps coming down here and asks Percy about his “progress”. We haven’t even made any progress yet this year, it’s only February! What kind of “progress” is he even looking for?”

Sasha scoffed. “Progress…that’s coming from someone who used to smoke pot before he became the Head.”

Tim choked on his tea. “Wait…what?!”

“He smoked pot before he took over the Head of the Institute post after Mr. Wright.” Sasha explained. “I remember when I was a new transfer to Research and David who showed me the ropes told me that Gertrude used to complain over how Elias kept smoking weed before he was promoted.”

Tim wheezed.

“Sasha Mildred James-”

“That’s not my name.”

“Are you telling me…” Tim rose up dramatically and pointed his finger at her. “That Elias used to smoke pot ?!”

Sasha smirked. “I’ve been digging into Elias’ file as well. Turns out he did that while he was in uni, as well.”

Tim shrieked with laughter.

“How did he get promoted?!” Martin looked scandalised. “If everyone knew he was smoking pot here and there, then how would he get promoted into the Head of the Institute?”

Tim grinned. “I have a theory-”

“Oh no.”

“I resent that remark!” Tim countered before he continued. “I bet Elias is into sugar daddies.” He earned two disgusted groans from Martin and Sasha. “It makes total sense! Imagine ol’ Wright was his sugar daddy, that’s why he got everything from him including his position once he kicked the bucket! And then we have this mysterious funder, who looks like a sea bear, and Elias is always meeting him in private in their office. Conclusion; Elias is into sugar daddies!”

“You’re a horrible, horrible human being, Tim Stoker.” Sasha scoffed.

HELEN

-I don’t really know what else to tell you. I was hospitalized for a short while, until they were satisfied my dehydration wasn’t going to cause any complications. And I spent a long time at home. Not opening any doors.

Finally, (suppressing tears) after the latest bout of nightmares, I decided to come to you and tell you my story. Maybe you can make some sense of this.

ARCHIVIST

…Perhaps. Leave it with us. We’ll… do some digging and see what we can find.

HELEN

[tearful] You believe me, then?

ARCHIVIST

(softly) Yes. Yes, I absolutely do.

One thing, though. You say you don’t remember the man’s name…

HELEN

I… I think he told me, but I just, I…

ARCHIVIST

Um, it didn't happen to be “Michael,” was it?

HELEN

…Yes! Michael! That was it…! (vengeful) Do you know him?

ARCHIVIST

Not really, I only met him briefly. But I’m not entirely sure what he is…or what he is.

In any event, we’ll make some enquiries and get back to you, Miss Richardson. Thank you for your time, you have been a great help. ( hesitates) This is probably not very professional of me, but may I come with a suggestion?

HELEN

Yes, of course?

ARCHIVIST

How about you walk home and take care of yourself? Have a day for yourself with some tea and calm down. I think you deserve to take a day off.

HELEN

Thank you, I will do that. Right… I’ll just leave you to it, then. Thank you.

[SOUND OF DOOR OPENING SLOWLY AND SQUEAKILY, THEN CLOSING MORE-SLOWLY AND MORE-SQUEAKILY]

ARCHIVIST

Sasha!

[SOUND OF DOOR OPENING NOTICEABLY FASTER AND LESS-SQUEAKILY]

SASHA

Yeah?

ARCHIVIST

I've just had a statement from someone claims they met your Michael.

SASHA

Oh! McFuckHands Michael?

ARCHIVIST

Excuse me?

SASHA

Tim came up with the name. I suggested Villain Edward Scissorhands, though.

ARCHIVIST

I…don’t even want to know. But regardless, I thought we could take a look at your recorded statement and draft up all we know about this “Michael”.

SASHA

Yeah, we could. I would rather not meet that Michael ever again, but he’s probably gonna appear anyway. 

Wait, the statement giver is still in your office?

ARCHIVIST

No, Miss Richardson went home. I suggested for her to take the day off-

SASHA

But no one has come out of your office?

ARCHIVIST

What?

SASHA

You’re the only one who just came out of the office. I’ve been here and working all the time. I would’ve seen someone coming out!

ARCHIVIST

But-but then… (inhales calmly) Maybe she took the wrong door?

[SOUND OF DOOR OPENING AND CLOSING FAST AND LESS-SQUEAKILY]

Miss Richardson?

[STATIC RISES]

Hello? Miss Richardson?

MICHAEL

She isn’t here, Archivist

ARCHIVIST

(gasps in surprise) W-what?! I-I…I’m sorry, I didn’t, ah, can I help you? This place is off-limits, so you can’t be here!

MICHAEL

I disagree.

ARCHIVIST

How did you get in here? Who let you in here?

MICHAEL

“Let?”

[Michael laughs. The sound is nearly-imperceptibly doubled, as if he is laughing from more than one throat, a fraction of a second out-of-sync with himself.]

MICHAEL

I’m afraid that isn’t how this works.

ARCHIVIST

We’ve met before. In the Artefact Storage, when I came to find Sasha.

MICHAEL

Yes.

ARCHIVIST

Michael.

MICHAEL

…

That is a real name.

ARCHIVIST

Are you here to kill me?

MICHAEL

No.

ARCHIVIST

(relieved) Oh…

But…why-why are you here? Wh–

MICHAEL

I am simply collecting what is mine, Archivist. The one who entered my domain.

ARCHIVIST

…Miss Richardson? Do you know where she is? You own those hallways?

MICHAEL

What a fascinating question. Does your hand in any way own your stomach?

ARCHIVIST

W-well, technically the hand and the stomach exists together and belongs to the same body-

MICHAEL

(interrupts) In any case, it doesn’t matter: the Wanderer had a brief respite, but it’s over now.

ARCHIVIST

What do you mean? She should’ve already left for her home.

MICHAEL

(laugh) …yes… ah… did you notice which door she left through? (continues laughing quietly)

ARCHIVIST

(overlapping) Yes… no, wait… no, there was, there–

MICHAEL

[overlapping] There has never been a door there, Archivist, your mind plays tricks on you…

ARCHIVIST

You can’t do this to her, she’s innocent! Let her go!

MICHAEL

[laugh] No?

ARCHIVIST

What do you mean with “no”?! Get her back here! You have no right to do that!

[SOUND OF SOMETHING WOODEN BEING DRAWN FROM FABRIC]

MICHAEL

[laugh] Are you going to attack me?

ARCHIVIST

Expelli-

[ARCHIVIST YELLS IN PAIN AS MICHAEL CONTINUES LAUGHING QUIETLY]

ARCHIVIST

(pained) W-who are you really…?

MICHAEL

I am not a “who,” Archivist, I am a “what.” A “who” requires a degree of identity I can’t ever retain.

ARCHIVIST

Then… Michael isn’t your real name, what?

MICHAEL

There is no such thing as a real name.

ARCHIVIST

What are you talking about?

MICHAEL

I am talking about myself. It’s not something I’m used to doing, so I’m sorry if I’m not very good at it.

ARCHIVIST

So…you appearing down here and… stabbing me isn’t you original intention?

MICHAEL

I wanted to talk to you. I intervened, to save you before. I'm interested in what happens now.

ARCHIVIST

Well, yes…thank you for that, I suppose…but you still haven’t told me why you “intervened” at all. (huff)

MICHAEL

I’m normally neutral, yes. But the loss of this place would have unbalanced the struggle too early. I’m keen to see how it progresses.

ARCHIVIST

You make it sound like there’s a… war. Not that I need another one, I have quite enough of the one I’m living in.

MICHAEL

[heh] Then I will say nothing further. I wouldn’t wish to tarnish your ignorance prematurely. [giggle] Goodbye, Archivist.

ARCHIVIST

This – wait –what ignorance? Wait!

[SOUND OF CHAIR OR TABLE SCRAPING AGAINST FLOOR; ARCHIVIST YELLS IN PAIN AGAIN, POSSIBLY FROM MOVING TOO QUICKLY]

ARCHIVIST

Ah… owww…

M-Michael? Michael…!?

Sasha! Sasha, help me!

[DOOR OPENS FAST LESS SQUEAKILY]

SASHA

Did you call-oh my fucking GOD! Percy!

[CLICK]

“You’re so lucky it’s not deep!” Sasha ranted at Percy, holding down the compressor at his bleeding arm while Martin wrapped it in bandages. 

“Well, I should probably hide because Bill will yell at me again.” Percy sighed. “Merlin, no one is ever gonna trust me on my own again! He’s already paranoid as it is.”

“Oh come on.” Tim scoffed. “How is your big brother gonna know you’re hurt again?”

Percy rolled his eyes. “Because of our clock at home.” He explained. “We have a large family clock back in the Burrow, that is our family home, and it’s a little special. Instead of displaying the time, it shows our location or current state and it has nine handles, each representing one of us.”

“Whoa, that’s really useful.” Sasha paused in the middle of her scolding. “So that clock tells you anything, as long as it’s on the display?”

“Yes, such as “home”, “work” or “school”. But also if we are “lost”, “injured” or in “mortal danger”.” Percy explained. “I…have probably been on the latter more recently now.”

Martin finished up wrapping his arm in bandages. “There we go. Just try to not use your arm too much.” He said before he sighed. “You really need to get one of us if you’re meeting with a dangerous monster thing!”

“It happened so fast!” Percy snapped. “I’m sorry if I was too preoccupied with surviving being stabbed instead of getting one of you!”

“Who got stabbed?!”

Jon just entered the breakroom with a folder in hand and stared at the sight before his own two eyes. 

Percy sat by the table, the sleeve of his white dress shirt (which was stained by scarlet blood) was rolled up to the elbow and his arm was firmly wrapped in bandages. Martin sat in a chair next to him, with an open first-aid-kit on the table. Sasha was standing up with hands on her hips. Tim was leaning against the counter with crossed arms.

“Ah…” Percy started. “Michael may have turned up, taken the statement giver and stabbed me?”

“What?!”

Percy sighed again.

Such a nice day-before-the-ominous-Valentine's-date…

Sirius walked in, unannounced, Percy’s room. “Alright, just calmed down your brother and now, I’m pretty sure he’s related to your mother. He sure can throw a hissy fit.”

“Thank you, Sirius and I have told you to knock!” Percy said without looking up from his research. He was attempting to find out what this “Michael” really was.

“Does your hand in any way own your stomach?”

What is he…well, it?

Sirius snorted. “Don’t have to be so wound up, it wasn’t me who got stabbed, by the way.” He smirked. “You get more excitement than me, at least.”

“If you call being stabbed “exciting”, then I’d gladly swap with you.” Percy scoffed haughtily. “It’s not like I ask to be chased by monsters that either try to kill me or confuse me with cryptic riddles.”

Sirius leaned his back against a wall, crossing his arms. “Your mother almost went into hysteria when that clock revealed you were injured. Your father calmed them down, Bill and Molly that is.”

“Did you tell them that it was an accident?”

“If you class being stabbed by a weird monster as an “accident”, then yes.” Sirius said. “Besides, I said it was your words and not mine. But if I know your father correctly, then he isn’t going to buy the whole “stabbed myself with a bread knife” lie.”

“First of all, it’s a white lie.” Percy finally looked up. “I can’t worry them anymore, not so soon after Prentiss. Besides, they’re all on edge because of the cut off communication from Hogwarts. Something strange is going on there, I keep having a bad feeling about it.”

“This is gonna sound very cliché, but I actually do know how you feel. I haven’t heard a word from Harry about school and that is concerning.”

Percy considered something that has been on his mind, pestering him. “I could–” He started before he stopped himself, remembering what his father told him.

Don’t tell anyone about his Seer powers.

Being a Seer is one thing, but a Seer with such strong powers as his and if it became public knowledge…

It was dangerous business, especially with Death Eaters lurking in the Ministry and everywhere else, the ones who never got convicted. Not only that, but there were so many people who would want to use him as a tool. 

Percy had never known why his father seemed to know so much about Seers, especially when he didn’t even have the gift himself. Everytime his father has briefly talked about his Seer powers…Percy had noticed there was a different air around him.

An air of deep sadness and a little fear.

‘I wonder what Dad really knows about my Seer powers.’ Percy thought to himself. He knew that while Trelawney was also (allegedly?) a Seer, their powers were at different levels. For some reason, Percy’s power was much stronger, more complicated and accurate. 

Yet, his predictions were very few and not common at all.

Not for the first time, Percy asked himself why he had gotten blessed or cursed (he couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing) with this power.

“Oh, what is this?”

Percy jerked awake from his deep musings about his power when he heard Sirius’ tone had shifted from serious (no pun intended) into a teasing one.

Oh no…

“Don’t touch those!”

“Are you having a date?” The older wizard smirked. “You have been holding out on me, you know I like some gossip.” Sirius smirked as he held up his folded “date clothes”, inspecting them. “Are you into the whole “awkward 80s nerd” vibes? I don’t think that will do.”

“Sirius, I will kill you slowly.” Percy growled and tried to force down his burning blush.

“No, you won’t.” Sirius said lightly. “Harry will be upset and you have to deal with that then.”

Percy sighed frustrated. “I can dress however I want, so leave that alone!”

“Aha, so you do have a date!”

“What is it to you?!”

“Oh please, I’m the expert here. I know how to woo a woman. Or a man. Did you like the book I gave you, by the way.” 

Percy was close to shout at him, just like his mother usually did whenever the twins went too far in their pranks which was often. “Sirius Black, if you don’t put them down…I-I can’t be held responsible for what I’m about to do to you!”

“Alright, cool it.” Sirius dropped his folded clothes on the bed and held up his hands. “I’m just messing with you, but I do have some good advice here.”

Percy shut his eyes and mentally counted to five. “Okay, what is it?”

“Ditch the sweater vest.” Sirius said.

Percy stared.

“I’m serious, young grasshopper. Ditch the sweater vest. It will be like you’re walking around with a big glowing sign that says “Make fun of me!”.” Sirius said with a flat stare. “If you insist on walking around in that plaid shirt, have at least a long-sleeved sweater. And please, don’t dress in maroon again. Take the dark green jumper.” 

He pointed to the knitted jumper Percy got from his mother last Christmas.

“At least it’s compatible with your hair. Red hair clashes horribly with maroon.” Sirius explained. “Don’t take the black business slacks, by the way. Word of advice, a pair of cream-coloured trousers matches pretty well with dark green.”

Percy was genuinely surprised over how well Sirius seemed to know about colour coordination or fashion, in general, considering how he’s only been on free foot for two years.

Sirius snapped with his fingers. “When’s the date?”

“Tomorrow.” Percy mumbled, feeling incredibly awkward and hopeless.

“Great, we got some work to do then.” Sirius decided and he didn’t take a no for an answer.

Finally, the day came.

Saturday 17th 1996.

Percy was very nervous, he couldn’t stop feeling so anxious about this whole matter. Surely Fred and George wouldn’t prank him like this, right? Of course not, they’re at school and even if they were at home, they wouldn’t do something like this.

That’d be crossing a line, after all…

He was dressed in a dark green, knitted jumper with a plaid shirt beneath and tan trousers. As it was cold outside, he also wore a grey wool coat with a dark red knitted scarf.

Sirius made sure that he looked his best before he left Grimmauld Place. He was strangely invested in the whole thing, which perplexed Percy a lot. But he figured that the older wizard had most likely nothing else to do than to pester him. 

The “aquarium” was apparently at London Zoo and he had to go through the mortifying ordeal of asking people. He had nothing against Muggles at all, but he didn’t like to ask people as he was very shy (and he realised too late that he could’ve asked Jon or Sasha).

London Zoo was located at Regent’s Park and it was, as Percy soon discovered, very big with many visitors. Apparently it has existed for 168 years, as it opened in 1828, and its purpose was meant as a collection of scientific study. 

Percy found science a very fascinating subject and it was actually very intriguing. He couldn’t help but to think about how Muggles seemed more advanced in technology and science while the wizarding community was a bit old-fashioned and extremely dependent on magic, to the point that most witches and wizards barely used logic.

He checked his wrist clock. 1.59 and only one minute to go.

Would his mystery date turn up soon? Percy tried to calm his beating heart, that seemed to believe it was in a race, and he swallowed as his throat felt dry. Surely they would show up, right? Whoever that was…Percy couldn’t stand the thought of being stood up on his very first date, he didn’t think he could survive the humiliation.

His vision suddenly darkened and he gasped in surprise: someone just covered his eyes with their hands.