Thanks to Sara for betaing! :)

Percy eyed the last set of stairs wearily, and wished for the thousandth time that Oliver had the sense to live on a lower floor. With a sigh, he forced himself to continue climbing.

A near fall was enough to convince him he should have skipped the "couple of drinks" before coming. He considered just apparating himself home, but…Oliver deserved to hear the truth from someone he knew. Before he read it in the paper.

The numbers on the doors looked jumbled to him, but habit carried him to the last door on the left. He hesitated, for the first time wondering if it was too late to be calling. Tentatively, he knocked.

He didn't hear any sign that Oliver had heard his knock, so he leaned against the door, pressing his ear to the cold wood. Still nothing. He knocked again, louder. This time he heard a thud, followed by cursing. Immediately he felt better, the sounds familiar from years of rooming with Oliver at Hogwarts.

The door opened abruptly, and Percy, deprived of his support, fell forwards, practically into Oliver's arms. He clutched at him, off balance, and looked up blearily to see the grin forming on Oliver's face.

"I was going to give the person who woke me up a piece of my mind, but this greeting is worth waking up for," Oliver said, brown eyes mischievous.

Percy blushed, and pushed away. He had to focus on his mission. Tell Oliver the bad news now. "They lied," Percy blurted, glancing at Oliver. "They never even looked. There was no investigation, and he's back, and no one's in the least bit ready, and half the ministry is ready to run, and we're probably going to die."

He glanced at Oliver's blank face again. "You tried to warn me not to put so much faith in them, and I didn't listen." The self-loathing and bitterness he'd thought he'd lost at the pub came surging back, giving his words more of an edge than he'd intended.

"Percy, are you drunk?" Oliver asked, looking so startled that Percy couldn't contain a faint snicker.

"It's possible," he said. "There was…err…whiskey. There was…" He began to count out the drinks on his fingers, but lost track after two. He brought the subject back to the important topic. "They didn't even check, Oliver. And I checked, and they should have seen enough to at least investigate, but they never looked, so they didn't. So I thought I should have something to drink and tell you. Better you hear it from a friend."

"Tell me what? Percy, you need to slow down and start at the beginning."

Oliver sounded concerned. Percy liked that about Oliver; the way he got concerned when Percy did something he disagreed with or didn't understand. His father always went straight to the yelling. Well, he had, but Percy had disowned him. The familiar uncertainty about his actions towards his father crept up on him, but he shoved the thoughts aside with the ease of long practice.

A slight shove on his chest resulted in his sitting abruptly on the couch. Percy wondered briefly how he'd gotten there. Oliver was missing, and Percy looked around anxiously for him, his mind filled with nebulous fears. It wasn't safe any more.

"Drink this," Oliver said, reappearing with a cup of tea. He grabbed a shirt off the chair, and pulled it on. Percy couldn't keep the disgust from showing on his face.

"It's clean, Percy," Oliver sighed dramatically. "Clean laundry on the chair out here. Dirty laundry on the floor of my room."

The pull of Oliver's familiar patter distracted Percy for a moment. He would normally have made a comment on the horror of such a system (or lack thereof), but he got the impression that Oliver hadn't really heard what he'd said before.

"He's back, Oliver," Percy said quietly, watching Oliver closely for his reaction.

Oliver sat on the coffee table in front of Percy, and caught hold of his hand. "Who's back, Percy? Has something happened to your family?" The concern and confusion in his eyes made Percy both uncomfortable and pleased at the same time. But then, he seemed to feel that way around Oliver a lot these days.

"My family is fine," Percy said. "It's You-Know-Who." He took a deep breath, and then defiantly said the name. "Voldemort."

Oliver went pale, glancing over his shoulder automatically. Absently, Percy wondered why all wizards did that when the name was mentioned. It was pure superstition that saying his name would attract his attention. He ignored the prickling at his neck, refusing to glance backwards himself.

"For real?" Oliver asked, his hold on Percy's hand tightening. Percy knew how he felt; he'd felt the same way when he'd first heard the news. Like all your childhood nightmares had just crawled out of your closet and smiled at you.

"Yes," he said flatly. "Fudge announced it earlier today, and I did the research to confirm it."

"Antarctica."

"What?" Percy wondered if this conversation would have made more sense if he were sober.

"We could be packed and out of here in two hours. Leave England, go somewhere safe till it's over." Oliver's voice was wistful, and for a moment Percy actually considered it. They could be out of the country long before he had to admit to sobriety. But Oliver didn't really mean it, and he'd regret it within a day. And Percy couldn't leave, much as he'd like to…Weasleys didn't run away, and for all his arguments with his family, Percy was still a Weasley.

"We can't," he said, after a moment. His thoughts were confirmed by the expression on Oliver's face; it was as much relief as disappointment.

"You know, " Oliver said, some of his usual humour creeping in. "I can understand now why you went straight to the pub." He shifted over to sit on the couch beside Percy. "But what happened? How did you find out about this? Do you know what the Ministry is going to do about it? They'll have to do something now…"

"There IS no Ministry," Percy snarled.

Oliver's breath caught. "You-Know-Who?"

It took Percy a moment to figure out Oliver's reaction. "No- Voldemort didn't destroy it or anything." He paused; it was easier to say the name every time he did it. "Well, not all of it. Just made a bit of a mess. Part of that was Harry, I think. Sorry. I meant, the Ministry, as I thought it was, doesn't exist. It never did. It was just a story my mother made up to reassure me when I was a child. I had proof that she was right, that the Ministry was full of people devoted to protecting the public…they saved me, you know. And Mum, and Ron, and the Twins. Deatheaters attacked our safehouse."

Oliver was silent beside him, so Percy forged ahead, trying to force his tumbling thoughts into their normal, well-ordered, stream.

"The Minister told me, when he offered me the job as his personal assistant, that he had investigated the claims of Voldemort's revival. I believed him, even in the face of my family's beliefs, because he represents the Ministry. I thought - there was no reason for him to lie."

"They knew he was back," Oliver stated softly.

"No. They never even investigated," Percy said, feeling again the shock of the discovery. "After the Minister announced that Voldemort was back today, I went through his records. He never assigned anyone to look into it in the first place. Everyone just assumed someone else had been given the assignment. So I went down into the archives, and I looked."

Percy felt his voice growing ragged, and paused to try to regain control. Somehow it seemed important that Oliver understand how badly the Ministry had betrayed them. He was the only one who might understand how Percy felt. "There was evidence as far back as two years ago. Even granting that it might be hindsight that makes it so clear, there was definitive evidence as far back as seven months ago. It should have at least made someone investigate it further."

His own anger was reflected in Oliver's eyes. It had been so easy to find incidents that should have set off alarm bells in someone's mind.

"I'm sorry, Percy," Oliver said quietly, pulling Percy close and wrapping his arms around him in a comforting hug. Percy let him, resting his head on Oliver's shoulder. He was drunk, after all, and couldn't be held accountable for his actions.

"Mum used to tell me stories about the Ministry," Percy mumbled. "Bedtime stories about the Wizards they saved, the battles they won, and how they always tracked down every bit of information and worked together to find the best ways to protect us."

Percy felt warmer now, and vaguely sleepy. "The Twins always wanted Muggletales for their bedtime stories, but I wanted real stories. They were much more exciting to me than all that made up nonsense. Only it turns out that maybe my stories were just as imaginary as theirs were. The Ministry is made up of people who don't care for anything except to get as much money as they can for the least amount of work they can do. The only people who care at all for the average Wizarding family work outside the system at the drop of a hat. Nobody had any faith in the Ministry at all, except for me. I was a fool. I only saw what I wanted to see, and now-"

"It's not as bad as you think, Percy," Oliver said softly, his breath warm against the side of Percy's face. "It won't seem quite as bad in the morning. And you weren't a fool. You're idealistic, and I like that about you. There's bound to be other people working there for the same reasons you are, and doing their job properly."

The words eased the knot of grief in Percy a little. It seemed like only Oliver could do that. He thought he should probably move away; he didn't want to assume anything about Oliver's feelings, even though he was fairly certain they both felt the same way. But he was tired, and comfortable, so he only snuggled a bit closer.

"I was wrong, and my family hates me, and I don't know who I'm supposed to trust any more," he mumbled.

"So don't trust any of 'em," Oliver interrupted, voice rough. "Show them how the job should be done, like you did today."

Percy smiled at the praise, eyelids growing heavy. A wisp of memory startled him out of his calm. "I…may have done something I perhaps…shouldn't have done, Oliver," Percy said, tensing.

"What did you do?" Oliver sounded wary, and Percy was certain he was thinking of the last time he'd said something similar. After the fight with Dad.

"I think I might have owled copies of my research to the Prophet." He wasn't certain he had, but he'd had Hermes and a bundle of papers with him in the pub, and neither of those things was with him now.

Oliver sounded like he was choking, so Percy raised his head a little to see his face. He was laughing.

"That's my Percy," Oliver snickered. "Don't get mad; get even."

It didn't make the least bit of sense to Percy, but if Oliver was laughing, it mustn't be a problem. He thought that there was a reason it might be a problem, but he was too tired to bother trying to argue. He lowered his head to Oliver's shoulder again and closed his eyes.

After a long while, he thought he heard Oliver say "You know, as long as you're alive, your "capital-M ministry does exist, you stubborn prat."

Percy was too sleepy to reply, and too comfortable to move, so he ignored it.

"Percy?" Oliver prompted. "You awake?" He sighed. "Guess you're staying here. Let's get you to bed, okay?"

~~~

"And the Ministry arrived just in time, and drove off the Deatheaters, and saved Gringott's, and all its workers, from destruction."

Percy curled closer to his mother with a shiver. He could imagine the scene if the Deatheaters had succeeded all too well. Bright flames and shadowy men in Ministry robes looking for survivors. "Was Daddy there?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. Your father was there, and he helped apprehend one of the Deatheaters."

"Apprehend?"

"Catch."

"Oh." Arthur Weasley was a larger than life figure for Percy. He swept in several times a year, usually bearing gifts, and was off again just as quickly. Before Charlie had gone to Hogwarts this year, he used to cry when Dad left. Percy never cried, because he knew his father worked for the Ministry, and had to protect everyone, not just his own family.

"Now, into bed," Molly said firmly, tucking the blankets tightly around Percy. "Sweet dreams."

Snug in his blankets, the breathing of the sleeping twins the only noise, Percy drifted off to sleep.

~~~

It was late the next afternoon when it happened. The Twins woke up from their nap first, and woke Percy by bouncing on his bed. Percy opened his eyes to see George peering at him from inches away. Startled, he flinched backwards and hit his head against the headboard. His yelp of pain brought their mother through the bedroom door, frowning as she grabbed Fred off the end of the bed and set him firmly on the floor. "Quiet, all of you," she said sharply, still keeping her voice down. "You know the rules."

Whimpering from the other room indicated that the new baby was awake. Mum sighed and turned back to her room to feed him. "Percy, get your brothers washed. Hands and face, no arguing, you two. I'll make your dinner after Ron's fed."

"Yes, Mum," Percy said, and was rewarded with a distracted sigh. Rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head, Percy glared at George, who was still sitting beside his pillow. He scrambled out of his bed, and pulled George off so that he could straighten the blanket. He straightened the twins' bed as well, and began the challenging task of herding the two toddlers to the sink.

He missed having Charlie around. Charlie had been in charge, until he'd left for school, and Percy had helped him. It was hard to handle the twins all by yourself. But Charlie was at Hogwarts now with Bill, and that meant that Percy wouldn't see him again, except in the rare photograph.

By the time they got down to the kitchen, the baby was asleep again. Mum had said he'd sleep a lot for the first few months, but Percy couldn't remember the twins ever sleeping this much. But then, Mum often said the twins were her own personal trial, which Percy suspected meant they were bad a lot. They were always breaking the rules, and making Mum angry. Sometimes she even cried. It scared him when she cried, so Percy remembered all the rules, and helped keep Fred and George quiet and away from the windows.

Percy heard the noise first, as he sat at the table looking at a book. It was dark, and Percy perked up, wondering if it might be Dad. He hadn't come to see the new baby yet, and Mum said he'd be coming any day now.

The muffled thud that followed made his mother pale. "Percy, take the twins to the safe room," she whispered.

Percy was surprised. They practiced their safety drill every morning after breakfast. She had never told them to practice after dinner before.

He slid out of his chair, and took Fred's hand, and then George's, when Mum set him down. She drew her wand from her pocket, another unusual act.

"Percy, give them each a red candy, and take one yourself," she said firmly. "Red, Percy, understand? And only one each."

"One red candy," Percy repeated solemnly.

"Good." Mum pushed him firmly between the shoulders, herding him towards the pantry. He stumbled, but followed the established routine. Once they were in the pantry, he closed the door, and let go of the twins's hands. Behind the flour tin was the latch that opened the secret door.

The twins scampered through as soon as it opened, looking forward to getting candy twice in one day. Percy followed quickly, as the door didn't stay open very long. Magic, Mum said. Ministry magic that Percy would learn when he was older.

George waited at the top of the stairs as he was supposed to, but Fred was already climbing down backwards. Percy reached for Fred, but Fred pulled away with a sound of annoyance. Percy hauled him to his feet and caught his chubby hand tightly in his.

"You want your candy?" Percy hissed, knowing Fred was only moments away from a very loud fit of temper.

"Yes," Fred said, lower lip sliding into a pout.

"Then be good," Percy said, keeping his voice too low for Mum to hear. He reached back and helped George catch up, and then all three of them started down the stairs. It was slow going, because the twins weren't very fast at walking down the stairs. They'd have gone much faster if they'd been allowed to crawl down, as Fred had tried, but Mum had gotten quite angry the one time he'd tried to tell her so. He was to hold their hands, and that was final.

When they reached the floor, he released their hands, and they raced to the shelf on the far side of the room, keeping their laughter quiet. Percy beat them there, and reached for the green candies by habit, before he remembered and reached for the other bowl. It was so far back that he could barely reach it. It took him a couple tries to pull it close enough to the front that he could reach the candy within. He pulled out three candies, very carefully, counting them in a whisper for the twins's benefit.

He unwrapped two of them and turned back to the twins, who were already standing side-by-side with their mouths open obediently. He dropped a candy into each mouth at the same time, to prevent a fuss. Blissful smiles on their faces, they watched as he unwrapped the remaining candy for himself.

Unlike the green candies they normally got, the red ones were a bit sour. He made a face, as he folded the wrappers carefully and put them in the pocket of his robes. He crossed the room again, to the battered cardboard box in the corner, and pulled the musty flaps open. Fred climbed in easily, but George needed a bit of help to get his leg over the edge. Percy climbed in after them, and pulled the flaps closed again.

He settled in the middle, and the twins curled up on either side. He didn't have to warn them to be quiet today…They seemed sleepy, even though it wasn't their bedtime. Percy leaned his head against the back of the cardboard box, putting an arm around each of his brothers.

The candy had left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, and he really wanted a drink of water. He'd be in trouble if Mum came down and found they weren't hiding in the box, so he waited as patiently as he could for her to arrive. His eyelids felt heavy, and Percy tried hard to keep them open. Mum didn't usually make them wait this long…the twins weren't good at waiting quietly.

Distantly he heard loud noises, as sleep claimed him.

~~

Percy was cold. And he was lying on something hard. He struggled to open his eyes, and after a moment, succeeded. The grimy ceiling above him was grey and featureless. He shifted his heavy head to the side, and saw Fred sleeping on the floor next to him. They were still in the safe room, but there were strangers there.

"- can't believe she poisoned them," whispered a bearded man, kneeling next to George.

Percy couldn't see much more of him besides his face, but the man beside him seemed familiar. After a moment, he realized the second man was wearing the same robes his father wore. They were from the Ministry! Excitement filled him, but he couldn't move enough to attract their attention. His body was all pins and needles, as if it had fallen asleep.

"What else was she to do?" The second man whispered back with a frown. Percy could hear other people speaking quietly in the background, and the sound of someone crying. "Consider who they are. The Deatheaters certainly wouldn't have given them a quick death. You heard what happened to Mundungus's boy."

"I know that you're right, it's just… twenty minutes more and we wouldn't have been able to save them."

"Twenty minutes later, it would have been too late for any of them anyway. Molly's a fine Witch, but she couldn't have held them off much longer."

"Do we know how they found this place?" Percy thought the man sounded frightened. He couldn't work for the Ministry then. Ministry Wizards were never frightened.

"There's a leak somewhere," the other man sighed. "And now we're going to have to move all of the families, and hope it's enough to slow You-Know-Who down till we've found out who's working for him."

Percy finally managed to shift his body, turning his head away as a small whimper escaped him. A moment later, the Ministry Wizard was at his side, helping Percy sit up.

"Well, hello there, young man," he said with a smile. "My name is Frank, and I work with your Dad."

"'a the Min-stry," Percy said, a little frightened by the way the words slurred. This man would think he was a baby who couldn't talk any better than the twins could!

"That's right," Frank said approvingly. "Let's see if we can get you up and walking a bit; you'll feel much better."

Frank helped Percy to his feet, and kept a firm grip on him as Percy tried to cooperate. He arms and legs didn't feel fully under his control, and only his kindly presence kept Percy from panicking. He needed to find his Mum.

Refusing to seem even more of a baby in front of Frank, Percy forced himself to put one foot in front of the other. Frank helped hold him up, and it soon became easier to walk back and forth. It was on the sixth turn that Percy spotted his mother. She was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, surrounded by even more adults in Ministry Robes, one of whom was holding Ron. She was crying softly.

Percy squirmed out of Frank's grip, ignoring his surprised exclamation, and stumbled over.

She took him in her arms immediately, hugging him so hard that he had to push her away a bit to breathe. "Don't cry, Mummy, " he said, more frightened by her tears than by the strangers. "The Ministry is here, and they'll fix everything." He wasn't sure what had happened while he'd been asleep, but it must have been something frightening for so many people to be here.

Mum laughed, and stroked his hair, smiling through her tears. "That's my practical boy. You're right, of course, love."

"He's adorable…so self-possessed for such a little chap," the woman holding Ron said to his mother, smiling at Percy.

"I don't know what I'd do without him."

Percy beamed, delighting in the attention.

Mum turned her attention to Frank, who had followed Percy. "Is there a new safe house? We can't stay here."

"We've got a place, " Frank said gravely, "but it's a long trip, and we'll have to go by broom."

"The plan is to leave a false trail," the woman said, bouncing Ron slightly to quiet him. He had the squinched face Percy associated with an imminent screaming fit. "Roger will use a portkey, and then I'll fly it back to the Ministry. Any watchers will feel the portkey being used, and should be drawn after me. Meanwhile, you and the others will sneak away, and then travel by broom."

Mum looked like she wanted to argue, but then nodded. "The children, though," she said softly. "It will be hard to keep them quiet for so long. Percy can do it, but not the others." She reached for Ron as she spoke, and the woman handed him over gently.

"I've already sleep-spelled the younger boys," Frank said. "Fred and George, isn't it?"

"Spelled them," Mum said, face darkening. "After everything else they've been through! Did you even consider whether that would be safe?"

Frank raised his hands to stop the angry stream of words. "Mrs. Weasley - Molly - it's perfectly safe. The antidote fixed the damage caused. They're perfectly healthy, as you can see by Percy."

Percy, watching wide-eyed, wondered if Frank's gesture had been part of a spell. In his experience, nothing stopped his mother, once she'd gone into Angry Lecture Mode.

Mum sighed after a moment, and seemed to collapse inwards. "You're right," she said. "I'm sorry."

Frank smiled at her. "You have every reason to be distressed," he said. "In a few hours, this will be over, and you'll be safe again. Only those of us accompanying you will know where you are."

"But what about Arthur?"

"When he needs to know, one of us will tell him," the woman said firmly, rising to her feet. "If you'll sleep-spell the baby and the boy, Longbottom, Quillon can use the portkey and we can all get started.

Percy suppressed a giggle with difficulty when he realized Frank was called 'Longbottom', and Mum shot him a warning look. Frank just smiled, and touched the baby on the head with his wand. He muttered the incantation too quietly for Percy to hear, much to his disappointment. He already knew five spells to use when he was old enough to have a wand of his own.

"And now you," Frank said with a smile, turning to Percy.

Startled, Percy backed up until he hit the wall.

"Don't worry," Frank said, "You'll just go to sleep, and when you wake up, you'll be all settled into your new home."

Percy was outraged. "I don't need to go to sleep," he said with a scowl. "I can be quiet as long as Mum can, and Dad says I'm supposed to take care of Mum and the babies when he's away."

"Percy," Mum snapped. "You will do as you're told. What are you thinking, arguing with Mr. Longbottom! How many times have I told you -"

Percy tuned out the lecture, keeping his gaze firmly on Frank. He was tired, frustrated, and he didn't understand what was going on, but he was not going to be treated like a baby. He was almost five!

"Can he really keep quiet for about six hours?" Frank asked.

"I think so, but I can't guarantee it."

Frank looked at Percy consideringly. Percy stuck out his chin stubbornly. "Can you promise to do exactly what I tell you to do, and not make any sound?"

"I always do what I'm told," Percy said firmly, ignoring the fact that he'd just refused to be sleep-spelled. "We have to listen to the Ministry and follow all the rules, because they know best how to protect us." Percy was parroting what his mother had told him, and it made all the adults relax and smile at him.

"Good boy," Frank said. "Let's get going. Fenwick, Meadowes, we're all set."

A heavyset man picked up a shoe from the floor, and vanished. The woman picked it up, and dashed up the stairs with it. Everyone was quiet for what seemed like hours to Percy, and then Frank gestured, and everyone began gathering themselves to leave. Mum picked up the broomstick leaning against the wall beside her as she rose, still clutching Ron.

The other two men picked up the sleeping twins, and Frank whispered, "Not a sound," to Percy as he picked him up. Percy wrapped his arms and legs firmly around the man, and tried to breathe quietly.

Slowly the group made their way upstairs. When Percy saw the light coming through the front window, he almost protested, before he remembered he was to be silent. He scowled at the window. Someone had broken the rules; not only had they opened a curtain, they'd ripped it right off!

As they reached the kitchen door, Frank's hand on the back of Percy's head forced him to put his head down on the man's shoulders. "Head down, eyes closed, there's a good boy," Frank whispered, so quietly that Percy could barely make out the words. He obeyed, feeling the change in the air as they moved outside. Frank paused frequently, and Percy could only make out the faintest sounds of the others as they walked. Picking up on the anxiety the adults felt, he tensed. He couldn't have made a sound if he'd tried. Memories of his mother's stories about the Deatheaters crept into his mind, and for a moment, he felt sure that if he opened his eyes he would see one staring right back at him.

"You can open your eyes, Percy," Frank said quietly.

Percy opened his eyes to discover they were in the forest at the back of the house. Mum smiled at him briefly, as she used a length of fabric to make a sling for the baby, the way she sometimes did when she was cooking.

Frank set Percy down, and Percy realized for the first time that he wasn't wearing his boots! He was outside in only his socks, which were sure to get dirty. He knelt down, adjusting the hem of his overlong robe to conceal his feet. Maybe Mum wouldn't notice.

Frank was on his broom now, as were the rest of the adults. He extended a hand to Percy, and Percy let himself be pulled up in front of him. He was going to get to ride on a real broom! He had distant memories of Bill giving him a ride on a toy broom, but Percy had never seen anyone ride a real one before.

They rose off the ground, higher and higher, and Percy felt a jolt of fear as he clutched the broom tighter. Frank wouldn't let him fall. Frank was a Ministry Wizard. As they leveled out, Percy began to enjoy the warm wind against his face, and relaxed, looking around at the stars. The ground below was all but obscured in the dark, and it almost seemed as if they weren't moving at all.

"All right?" Frank said into his ear.

Percy started, but then turned to nod at the man, grinning. As he turned back to watching the stars, he could feel Frank chuckling.

~~

Percy woke to find the ground rushing towards him with alarming speed. Before he could so much as flinch, however, the broom leveled itself, and Frank was lifting him off before climbing off himself. The ground felt slightly unsteady under Percy's feet.

"We're here," Frank said cheerfully, as Percy looked around. There were trees everywhere. A few feet away was a small house. Mum stood next to it, looking it over. Unlike the last house, there was no street nearby.

Frank caught Percy's hand and led him over. "Mrs. Weasley, you have a remarkable son," he said with a smile. "He wasn't scared of flying at all, and he never once made a sound." He turned to Percy and grinned. "I wouldn't be surprised to see you in the Ministry someday, like your Dad."

Percy beamed, as Mum gave him a one-armed hug. "Oh, he's a good boy, all right. Following right in his father's footsteps."

The other Ministry Wizards were filing out of the house. "We put the little ones right to bed, Mrs. Weasley," said the bearded man. "I hope that's all right?"

"That's fine, thank you," Mum said. "Thank you, all of you, for your help today. If you hadn't -" She broke off, tears in her eyes, and Percy leaned closer to her, concerned.

"Our privilege, Mrs. Weasley," said Frank.

The others were already on their brooms, and Frank swung onto his with a wave to Percy.

Percy and his mum stayed where they were, watching until they couldn't see the smallest trace of a shadow of them. "Come along, Percy, " Mum said eventually. "Let's go see our new home."

~~~~~~~

Percy woke slowly, everything seeming strangely fuzzy. He attempted to raise his head, but pain made him drop back against the pillow with a groan. He thought distantly that there was something odd about his room.

"Awake, are you?"

Percy sat up abruptly, memory flooding back. Before he doubled over in pain, he glimpsed Oliver's smiling face, and realized he was in Oliver's room.

He rested his head against his knees, and opened his eyes enough to see the unfamiliar sheets, and amend to that: He was in Oliver's bed. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, except that these were not exactly the circumstances in which he'd imagined he would be in Oliver's bed for the first time.

"Here," Oliver said softly. "Have a sip of this."

Percy's stomach revolted at the strong scent, but he took the glass from Oliver and managed a small sip.

After a moment, the pain and nausea began to fade, and he felt able to raise his head and take a longer drink.

The bed shifted as Oliver sat down beside him. Percy looked over blearily. "Sorry," he rasped.

"No problem," Oliver said, handing Percy his glasses.

His vision fully returned, sitting on Oliver's bed drinking a hangover remedy, Percy could feel a blush rising.

Oliver's snort drew him from his increasingly humiliated musings. "Stop that," he said. "I'm glad you came and told me about…You-Know-Who. The Daily Prophet this morning would have been an awful shock."

He handed the paper over, and Percy winced at the title. "Ministry Negligence," He read aloud. Skimming the article, some of the quotes began to look increasingly familiar. "The unnamed Ministry Official…" he trailed off, looking at Oliver in dismay.

Oliver grinned, genuine amusement on his face. "Looks like you sent the results of your investigation after all. Although there is an 'official' article on the front page, dealing with Fudge's statement."

Percy stifled a groan. "I didn't even use a public owl. I sent Hermes. They can trace me through him."

"Don't worry so much, Percy," Oliver said. "They're much too busy with this scandal and the likelihood of war to bother tracking you down."

"Right," Percy sighed. "So now I go back to work, double check the information I'm given, and act accordingly."

"Sounds right to me," Oliver said.

"I'm going to have the shortest Ministry career ever."

"Well, if you lose your job, you can stay here and be a Kept Man," Oliver teased.

Percy blushed again, wanting very much to know how much Oliver was joking when he said things like that.

"I'm sure Dumbledore would have work for you, or the paper would certainly hire you after that," he gestured at the paper resting in Percy's lap.

"I'm going to have to deal with my family at some point, aren't I?" Percy said, suddenly weary. Any way you looked at it, that conversation wasn't going to be any more pleasant than the one that had led to him moving out.

"Yeah, but I'll come with you if you like," Oliver said, nudging Percy's shoulder. "You don't have to go alone, and you don't have to go right away."

Percy was at a loss for words for a moment. He couldn't force any of the things he wanted to say out of his throat, so he settled on "Thanks," and tried to let all the rest show in his eyes. Some of it must have gotten through, because Oliver's brown eyes softened.

"Let's get some food, " Oliver said, smiling in a way that made him look a bit foolish. Percy couldn't help but smile back. As long as he had Oliver, he could handle his family, a false ministry, inadvertent status as a newspaper source, and maybe even making his own rules.

The End