Unofficial Portkey Archive

Authour's Notes: I'll try to keep these brief for once. I'm rather prolific and rambling, so I need to learn to just keep it down to a few lines. Anyway, for those shippers out there who like to skip to the parts containing their favourite ship, I ask you not to overlook this chapter unless you want to be confused to later happenings in the story. Many hints and clues and other things are dropped herein. Conclusion of events that happened in chapter 26 will be in the next chapter. For now, enjoy my favourite chapter. At least one of my favourites. :D The fabulous Glockgirl and Lizard contributed art to this chapter. Thank you so much, girls. I love you to pieces forever and ever. And Abigail also wrote a couple of Percy/Lucius smutlets as an AU to the events of this chapter and is writing a third as we speak. To read the first two, go here

Goodnight my love,

The tired old moon is descending.

Goodnight my love,

My moment with you now is ending.

~ Sarah Vaughn

"Mr Weasley?"

Arthur looked up and sighed. There was one hell of a mess in his new office, now that the holidays were over, and he needed to concentrate. If he didn't think about work, and only work, he would lose his mind. All these distractions . . .

"Yes, Lauren?"

Lauren, his new assistant, shuffled into his office on one broken high heel and set a small, brown parcel on his desk. "One of the Aurors working over at Mondbluetuties--" she paused as she stumbled over the unfamiliar word, "uh, Malfoy Manor found this. They thought that you might want it."

Arthur picked up the package and hefted it in his hand. It felt like a book of some sort. "Why would I want anything from that God-awful place?"

Lauren was still looking down and she made a convulsive sort of motion with her shoulders that could be liberally interpreted as a shrug. Arthur was sure that there wasn't anything actually wrong with her, but she was so terribly shy and strange. Poor girl.

"I'm not sure, Mr Weasley, sir. They said that you would definitely want to keep it."

He frowned and looked down at his paperwork before glancing back at the wrapped book, if that's what it was.

"Thank you, Lauren." Arthur looked up and attempted a smile. "Why don't you break for tea? I'll call you in if I need any help here."

She nodded her head and slowly made her way out the door. He thought briefly of asking her to bring him some tea, too, but stopped himself. Lauren would more than likely spend half an hour making sure that she put in the right amount of cream to suit him.

Hesitantly, Arthur cut the strings on the parcel and pulled back the plain brown paper to reveal a small, leather-bound book with the word 'Journal' stamped on the spine. The thing that made his heart lurch though was the name written on the first page in a neat, copperplate hand: Percy Ignatius Weasley.

He drew a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. Did he want to read this? These were his son's most intimate thoughts and it would be like an invasion of his privacy. Then again, there were so many unanswered questions. The most prominent of these was why Percy had chosen Lucius Malfoy, of all people, to- he couldn't bring himself to even think of it. Would he be able to read about it?

Arthur reached down and opened a drawer at the bottom of his desk - the one containing Muggle contraband - and pulled out a small flask. He took a gulp of the bracing whiskey before wiping his lips and placing it back in his desk. Breathing deep, he stared at the book for a moment longer until he couldn't stand the tension any more. Arthur opened the book to the first page and began to read.

*~*~*~*~*~*

5th October, 1997

This is a new beginning for me, so I thought that I would buy a new journal as well.

I suppose I should start by saying that I've told Penelope my secret. Mum is convinced that she and I will get back together again. I don't want to hurt her feelings, so I haven't said anything to contradict this.

One day, I think that I'll tell them; but it will probably be a very long time from now. I know Dad has his heart set on grandchildren as much as Mum does, and he would probably be the most hurt by all this. Not to mention that Ron is still at school and not mature enough to understand. Ginny says that he would rage and storm, but he would get over it. Despite what she says though, I think that it would hurt them all very much and I don't want to do anything that would destroy the new and tentative peace of our home.

Ginny has been very supportive of my decision to call it off with Penelope. She says that her friend Colin went through the same thing just last year and she understands how I must feel. It's a comfort to know that I'm not alone in this, as Penelope was anything but understanding. I suppose that I can't blame her for that. We'll be friends again someday, I imagine. But for the moment, this is too painful for her. At least I can rely on her silence, as I'm not ready to come out to my family just yet.

I'll close for now; I still have to write the reports on the new flying carpet embargo for Mr Malfoy. I don't know why he's taken a sudden interest in this section of the Ministry, but I'm determined to prove that I'm not just another Weasley.

Till tomorrow,

Percy

11th October, 1997

I'm on my lunch hour now, so I thought that I would take some time out to update this journal. Normally I'm much better at keeping up my duties, but the importance of this book has fallen to the bottom of the heap time and time again as I find more that I simply must finish. Someone put a dungbomb in my inbox again, so until the Ministry's elves have finished cleaning all the reports that were there, I have little to do. If I wasn't quite sure of my demotion before, I'm positive of it now.

I've been working closely with Mr Malfoy and I find that he's a wonderful man. I know that he and Dad have been at each other's throats since they were children, but I don't know why. He's very charming and always unfailingly polite. I can't abide bad manners and boorish behaviour, but he seems to know this already. He seems to know a lot of things about me.

I asked him, jokingly, if he had been watching me. Would you believe that the man winked at me? He's so devilishly handsome with his platinum hair and dark, grey eyes, and I suppose that I have a bit of a crush on him. It's too bad that he has a wife and child, not to mention that he's a good deal older than I am.

I fear that he would lose respect for me if he knew my secret, and I wouldn't want that to happen as I truly enjoy his company. He's a very powerful individual and a bit dark. Then after that Azkaban incident, I suppose he has a right to it if anyone does. But he has a keen mind and a hunger for knowledge that . . . Well, speak of the devil and he appears. I must go now. Mr Malfoy has come to join me during my lunch hour and it would be very rude to keep writing while he's speaking to me.

Till tomorrow,

Percy

15th October, 1997

I'm positively giddy, just now. I was kissed tonight. Let me write down what happened.

I was in my office, as I usually am, finishing the reports on the flying carpet embargo. Everyone else had gone home already, as they don't generally like to stay after hours to finish their work, lazy sots that they are. I like that time best, though, as there's very little to distract me and I enjoy the solitude. It isn't like the Minister's office was, people coming and going at all hours due to necessity.

I suppose it must have been somewhere close to seven, since it was already dark outside, when Mr Malfoy walked in. He was wearing the most delicious cloak made of velvet and lined with lamb's wool. Ooh stop it, Percy, you're a terrible boy. Anyway, he asked me how far along I was on the embargo report as he needed it soon. I was just finishing up so I asked him to wait a moment and he'd have them. Truthfully, I think they were a mess, but he said I'd done well. My heart was in my throat the last five minutes of working on them due to the luscious Mr Lucius Malfoy's presence directly behind me.

He asked if I'd eaten yet and I told him no. To be honest, I hadn't a bite all day and I was famished. Lucius, as I'll call him from now on, asked me to Apparate with him and have a nibble at this lovely little café in the French section of Diagon Alley. I would have been a fool to say no. Even if I didn't fancy him, his good influence could seriously further my career.

We strolled down Diagon Alley and onto Vertices toward the café. After we'd ordered, he spoke to me of his passion for rare books and asked if I was similarly inclined to appreciate good literature. I am, of course, and we talked about this subject for a while before moving on to speak of our respective families.

I must admit that I was a bit hesitant to speak of my family. Not that I'm ashamed of them anymore, I love them very much and have thoroughly learnt my lesson, but I know that he and Dad don't exactly see eye to eye. I also remembered something about a diary in Ginny's first year, but I don't see how father could have thought that it was connected to this man. He's so affable!

So I spoke instead of Ginny and my mother. Ginny is my favourite sibling and my only sister. I fear for her sometimes because she's so adventurous. But she has a good heart and will make any man she marries one day a very happy husband. If she's inclined to go that way, that is. If not, I'll support her as much as she's supported me. I don't have much to fear in that regard, though, because she seems to appreciate men as much as I do. I wouldn't wish my situation on her or anyone else, but especially Ginny as she's so very sweet and giving.

I think my mother would be all right with this whole thing, but I don't want to hurt her. And as much as she would protest, I know it would hurt. I don't know what it's like for a parent in this, and I suppose I never will, but all the same, I'll avoid hurting my family when I can. Merlin knows that I've hurt them enough as it is.

I told Lucius a bit of this, leaving out obvious things and mostly speaking of my sister. She does well in school and on the Quidditch pitch. I'm proud of her accomplishments so far. Even though she wasn't made a prefect, she seems to take school as seriously as I did. At least that's what her marks tell me. I can only hope that she is able to have the very best life can offer her, and if there is anything I can do for her, I will do it. She deserves no less.

That isn't to say that I don't love my brothers, but Ginny has always had a special place in my heart. I suppose that I feel closer to women in the familial sense than to the men of my family. I don't quite understand them and they surely don't understand me.

I can still remember the delight the twins took in bothering me when I was at my schoolwork over hols. Or later, after I started working for the Ministry. How they would hover in the doorway of my room like two daemons come to tempt me away from my quill and parchment. I think that if I'd ever deigned to turn and face them, they may have run screaming for Mum. But as it was, I would hold my tongue and pull my hair until they left me in peace.

I told this to Lucius and he laughed. Oh he has such a nice laugh, very rich and deep. He said that his wife isn't exactly what he would call friendly and he never had any sisters so he doesn't know women that well.

When it came time to pay for our meal, he insisted on covering it. I felt a bit embarrassed, almost as if we were on a date. Thinking back on it, I suppose we were. We Apparated back to the Ministry building so I could gather some work to take home with me. Lucius laughed that wonderful, rich laugh again and said that I work too much. He's right, but I need to work. I need to be useful. I need to feel as if I'm helping my family. Father doesn't seem to understand this and we're always arguing about it. Some things never change, I suppose. He thinks I'm power hungry. But really, is that a bad thing?

I told Lucius this and he shook his head, a small smile playing about those beautifully sculpted lips of his. 'You are useful, darling,' he said. Then he stroked my face with the back of his hand and I froze. I didn't know what to do. I'd dreamt about it a million times, but I was never actually that close to another man in that way before; I could see his eyes glittering only inches from my own. Then he kissed me, gently on the mouth, and said that everything would be fine before walking to the Apparation room down the hall.

I'm still reeling. It could have meant nothing to him. He's very European and don't the French kiss each other on the mouth when parting with dear friends? I only wish I knew.

Till tomorrow,

Percy

21st October, 1997

Well, I know that Lucius meant something a bit more than a friendly peck now. He's come to take me back to that café almost every night since last I wrote here. Just tonight he kissed me again. He really kissed me this time. It was a full body sort of thing, he leaned into me, and . . . well, it's a bit embarrassing to write it all here. But suffice to say, I know more where he and I stand: in the same boat.

There is no way that he, Lucius Malfoy, could possibly tell everyone that he fancies men (our society being as antiquated as it is), much less that he fancies me. I'm a Weasley, he's a Malfoy. It's the same thing faerie stories are made from. And I know that he fancies me, he said so.

I know that there's a great difference in our ages, and in our stations, but when I'm with him- I feel like I could fly. I've never really felt that way before. Usually I'm so obsessed with my work that I don't take time out to enjoy life. But I am now. I've earned it. I was a model student at school and I've been a model employee at the Ministry. I deserve a bit of fun and adventure.

I was a boy the first time I saw Lucius Malfoy. He and Dad were having an argument about something or other when we went to Diagon Alley to buy my school supplies for my first year at Hogwarts. I don't remember a word of what they were arguing about, but I remember his face. I suppose it was a bit of hero worship then, even though he is and was no hero. But he wants me. Me, plain Percy Weasley. It's mind-boggling, the entire concept.

He sends me the loveliest notes. They're all very vague of course, and he always signs them with an 'L' instead of his name. But as vague as they are as far as referring to certain people or places, they are full of tender affection written in his formal manner. They're never commonplace or crass, which is something I deeply respect. I keep them in a bundle under a loose floorboard in my room. It wouldn't do for Mum to find them while cleaning, even if she didn't know who sent them. They're too personal to me and I don't want to share them, or him, with anyone.

I do have to share him though. He has a wife and a child, which I can't allow myself to forget. I feel badly every time he kisses me, but he assures me that his wife knows his habits and they reached an agreement on the subject long ago. I still feel absolutely wretched though, knowing that he has a wife.

Lucius says that it was an arranged marriage. I didn't know until he told me that she is actually his cousin, although I should have guessed because they look almost exactly alike. Years ago, it was fairly common among pure-blooded families to marry within the family line, but I didn't think anyone still did that in this day and age. (Then again, my family has always been far removed from the rest of blood society, so I've never had much of a grasp on the older traditions among fellow pure-blood families) I also didn't know that he was related by marriage to the Blacks. His wife, Narcissa; her mother was a Rosier and her father a Black.

I remember reading about that family in The Daily Prophet when Sirius Black first escaped Azkaban. It wasn't good at all. The whole family was supposed to practice very Dark magic and I suppose they must have. (No matter what mother or father may say, I believe that Black was guilty as charged.) However, they say that the Malfoys practice Dark magic, too, but I've yet to see something as horrible as everyone suggests about them.

His son is contracted to be married after he leaves school to another cousin from Lucius' mother's side, a Rosier. It's really fascinating, all this. He has so many connections to wealthy, pure-blooded families throughout Britain and France. If I ever want to find a position elsewhere, Lucius would surely be able to find me something. He laughs, though, and says that I'm needed here for the moment.

I've learnt so much from him already. For instance, I hadn't the faintest idea why many wizards have an aversion to Muggle-born witches and wizards. I assumed that it was some sort of deeply ingrained prejudice, at least that's what Dad always told us. After all, our society is very old-fashioned still when compared to other countries. But Lucius told me, over a cup of coffee as he says he can't abide tea, that Muggle-borns don't live as long as pure-bloods, and most pure-bloods are afraid of their lines becoming polluted by Muggle blood because it means that their descendants won't live as long as we will, and there are increased chances of having a Squib for a child or further down the line.

It's really quite fascinating and I hadn't thought of it before. I think now that I'm a bit relieved that I didn't marry Penelope after all; her mother was a Muggle-born. It's horrible to imagine our children living half-lives simply because their blood wasn't pure. I feel sorry for them, though. Hermione, Ron's friend, told me that her grandmother died when she was eighty. Can you imagine it? Only eighty years on this earth and dying of old age? Headmaster Dumbledore is somewhere close to one hundred and sixty now, if I remember correctly, yet he is still vibrant and in excellent health.

Perhaps Lucius is right when he says that they shouldn't know our world. I mean, it's terribly cruel to show them witches and wizards, some of whom will live to be well over two hundred, when they themselves will only live to see half of that at best. It upset me a great deal and I should really think on it. I must say though that Lucius seems to be converting me to his very idealistic way of thinking more and more.

Till tomorrow,

Percy

1st November, 1997

Ah, everything seems to be work lately. I've been very busy, what with the new reports on the international standard wand weight coming out tomorrow, and I still haven't finished my report on the Ministry's new white-willow bark policies. It seems that they are having a devil of a time with the Americans in regards to importing it, and I believe that it will wind up inflating the price of headache potions and Floo powder if the disagreement isn't settled soon. A Mr Avery is supposed to be handling negotiations, so I must have this report finished as soon as possible before he leaves for America with Lucius tomorrow.

But I'm on my lunch and I've had enough of working for the moment, so on to my favourite subject and guilty pleasure: Lucius. Today is All Soul's Day and Lucius said that he has a very special friend that he wants me to meet. He said that this man understands our predicament and is eager to help us procure some alone time. Also, he has some special plans for the afternoon since it's a bit of a holiday, even though I'm working. I hate to admit that I'm excited to be leaving work early, but I am.

Till tomorrow,

Percy

*~*~*~*~*

The flask of Muggle whiskey was still in his drawer, and he poured a generous amount into his cup before taking a sip. Usually, he was loathe to drink, especially in the office, because it upset his wife. But today was an exception and surely Molly would understand just this once if he came home a bit tipsy.

It had been well over two and a half months since Percy died, but Molly was still grieving deeply. Arthur was grieving, too, but in his own, more quiet way. His wife could be a bit dramatic at times, but everything she did was out of love for others and he couldn't bring himself to tell her that it was time to move on, because he hadn't done so either.

Molly did seem a bit better lately though. He hadn't heard her cry for almost two weeks, and just the other evening she'd greeted him at the door with a smile. Perhaps Molly had finally found something to keep her occupied during the day with all the children finally gone. Bill's visit the week before must have done its work.

Arthur flipped through the journal and skimmed a bit, glossing over Percy's meetings with Voldemort and Lucius. He couldn't bear to read anymore about how they had twisted Percy's mind into believing their rubbish with convincing debates, playing on Percy's natural sympathy. If he hadn't known better, Arthur may have been inclined to believe it himself. As it was, he knew them for the lies and half-truths they were. He couldn't blame Percy, though. He just couldn't do it.

*~*~*~*~*~*

23rd December, 1997

I'm to be initiated tomorrow night. I admit that I'm nervous and I wonder if I'm doing the right thing. My Lord has said several times that it's the best way to keep my family safe because I will soon have the power and influence to make sure that they are well protected.

I feel a bit nervous about staying at Malfoy Manor with Lucius. His wife is directly nearby, but she hasn't been anything but kind to me. She knows of my relationship with her husband and doesn't seem to mind. I feel selfish for asking Lucius to leave her before.

Sometimes I'll bring her a tea tray, as she's usually sickly, and we'll talk. I hesitate to say that we're friends, but we have an understanding and don't speak of Lucius to each other.

Narcissa strikes me as a very gentle woman, and if it weren't for her formal manner, she would remind me a bit of Penelope. She's too well bred to show her emotions beyond a lifted eyebrow or a slight twist of her lips and I admire her very much for that. If not for the situation we're in, I think that we could be very good friends.

Lucius doesn't seem to think much of his wife, but that is his business, I suppose. If I fancied women, I would certainly pick someone like her for a partner. Lucius is annoyed by her constant sickness and says that she's 'acting', but I don't see anything that points in that direction. Perhaps she is, and I couldn't blame her for it. She seems lonely and even sicklier since her son's disappearance a few days ago.

I remember Draco only vaguely from school. My impression of the boy then was a spoiled brat with a foul sense of humour. Surely he's grown since then, as everyone grows up eventually. Narcissa seems to be concerned for him in a very hazy way, and Lucius is more angry than upset, I think. If it were Mum and Dad and one of us went missing, they would be out of their minds with worry. But everyone deals with things in their own way.

Lucius goes out every night with his 'brothers' to search for the boy, but they haven't found a trace of him yet. I'll soon be in that brotherhood and I'm still a bit frightened. Dad always told such horrible stories about the Death Eaters, and I'm too young to remember the time when My Lord was in power before. But he says that everything is necessary to cleanse our community of Muggle-borns and it's for the best. My Lord tells me, when we sometimes speak in front of the fire late at night, that no one will be harmed and I find myself believing him.

It's uncanny, but he seems to really care for me as a friend and understand me. I don't think even Ginny could understand me as he and Lucius do. But tomorrow night I will belong to that select brotherhood. They will take me into the fold and I will have power. I can take care of my Mum, and Dad won't have to work in that horrible, cramped office of his any more. Why, I could be Minister of Magic someday if I wanted! Then everyone in the wizarding world would respect the name Weasley and say to themselves: 'what a lovely, upstanding, wealthy family! Who would have supposed that young Percy would do so well?'

Young Percy will do well. Ginny and Ron will have new robes and school supplies, and Mum will have a lovely cottage in Hogsmeade for holidays. Dad will have time to enjoy his life instead of constantly worrying about our welfare. Everything will be perfect.

Till tomorrow,

Percy

24th December, 1997

This is the night. I'm terribly anxious sitting here with Narcissa until they call me. She's fallen asleep already, poor dear. I suppose she's worn out from our conversation.

It really is the oddest thing. We rarely ever speak of personal matters, preferring instead to talk about a book we'd read or what products we're keen on using in our hair. This evening, though, when I came to see her, she sat me down very close on her bed. I usually sit in a chair beside her during visits, but not tonight. She said that she had much to tell me before I take my vows to My Lord.

She started out with a story from her school days, how she'd been carefree and naïve then. I can't imagine her ever laughing, but I suppose everyone does when they're young, don't they? Narcissa went on to say that she'd met Lucius for the first time when she was eighteen and fresh out of school. I'm aware that she's younger than Lucius, but I still don't know how young. She left Hogwarts the same year Bill entered his first year there, so she must be about thirty-six or seven. She's still very youthful looking, not appearing much over twenty five, but there's something in her eyes that makes me wonder about Lucius at times. He could be nicer to her even if he doesn't feel much affection for her. She's still his wife, after all.

Narcissa drifted on a bit, lost in memories, and I let her tell me about them. I have the impression that she doesn't usually have anyone to talk to, and my presence in her home gives her an opportunity to do so freely.

Then she took my hand and looked at me earnestly. She has very pretty eyes, a pale grey colour similar to Lucius' and they're terribly appealing. She's almost a twin to Lucius, and I can see the family resemblance easily. Perhaps her face is more delicately pointed than his, and her eyes are more like pools of emotion. Draco is lucky to resemble his parents so closely. Sometimes I almost wish that I was different and she was different, but . . .

She told me that I reminded her of a friend she'd once had. That I'm intelligent and gentle, like he was, and that maybe I would understand.

'I won't speak ill of my husband, but I don't want to see you hurt, Percy,' she said to me. 'You're a good child to your parents, and I'm sure that they're proud of you, but you mustn't do this tonight. You'll sign away all of your freedom and be forced to do things which may go against that delicate conscience of yours." Narcissa tapped my chest with one of her long, elegant fingers. "Our Lord's heart may be in the right place, but I believe that he goes about things with unnecessary violence. And Lucius isn't known for his compassion, either.'

I covered her hand with my own and brushed some of the white hair away from her face. I wonder if it was ever blonde at all, instead of this lovely silver. She seems all silver and pale and interesting; shimmering like some fragile princess in a gilded tower.

'Narcissa, Lucius would never hurt me, and My Lord is an honest man. Don't believe the lies that you've read over the years. They're working for the greater good and even if they weren't, you know that I would do anything to help my family, don't you? This will benefit them more than it will me. Surely you understand that.'

She gazed at me sadly for a moment before nodding her head. 'Of course I do. You have your pride and that is very commendable. Sometimes I feel that pride is all I have left of myself.'

Narcissa was silent for a space, and she would squeeze my hand every now and then while she dozed lightly. I sat there with her and sang a lullaby I remember Mum used to sing when I was small. Sometimes I wish that I was still that little boy and didn't have this responsibility pressing on me. But I do, and I wouldn't trust it to anyone else.

After about an hour, I rose to go, but she asked me to stay with her for a while longer. Of course I sat back down. It was still a good two hours until midnight and I had nothing better to do with my time.

'Percy,' she said, rubbing the back of my hand with her thumb and staring at me from out of those marvellous eyes. 'Your visits have meant a great deal to me. I hope that, whatever decision you make tonight, you'll continue to come to me?'

I smiled at her. How could I not? She's a beautiful woman and a very dear friend. 'Of course I will,' I replied. 'We're good mates, aren't we?'

Narcissa closed her eyes and smiled slightly. I think it's the first time I've ever seen her do so. 'Yes, Percy. We're good mates.'

I thought she was asleep then, but she wasn't. 'Percy, you must never betray my husband.'

'Why would I do that? He means the world to me.'

'Yes, but.' She licked her lips here and opened her eyes. 'You may not like some of the things you'll be doing soon. Lucius won't hesitate to kill you if you betray him.'

I was flabbergasted. I can't conceive of the thought of betraying Lucius or My Lord, but most especially Lucius. He loves me and I don't think that he would ask me to do something that would go against my conscience. I told her this and she smirked, reminding me a bit of her lost son.

'I can conceive of a great many reasons why you may betray him one day. I even betrayed him once myself; ran away shortly after we were married to seek refuge with my cousin.' Her brow crumpled from the weight of her dark thoughts. 'If it wasn't for the fact that I'm his wife and he would have a difficult time explaining my disappearance, I would have been dead. As it is, I've wished many times that I were, over the years.' She sighed and sat up a little against her pillows. 'You he wouldn't have to explain though. No one knows that you're here aside from the brotherhood and myself. Please be careful, Percy. I would miss you if you were gone.'

I was both touched and horrified. Horrified at her sadness and the fact that she had left Lucius, and touched by her concern. I think sometimes that she isn't all there upstairs. Maybe she fell on her head as a child.

'I'll be careful, Narcissa. I promise I will. And you'll see, everything will be all right. You've nothing to worry about.'

Narcissa smiled again, weakly, and pulled my face down to hers, giving me a gentle peck on the lips. It was a chaste kiss, like the ones parents share with their children. 'I'll miss you, Percy.'

'But I'm not going anywhere.'

'All the same, I'll miss you.'

She patted the space beside her and urged me to share some of her quilt, as there was more than enough for two people. Eventually she fell asleep against my shoulder and I started writing this. It's only half an hour until my initiation and I must get ready. I'll give Narcissa a kiss on the forehead and leave her a note to let her know where I've gone. Tomorrow is Christmas and perhaps I can persuade her to have an early coffee with Lucius and I, since I plan to visit with my family in the afternoon. I have the most beautiful locket for Ginny; I hope she likes it. In fact, I think I'll mark this passage with it so I don't lose it. I'm always losing small items and I really want her to have this.

I'll come back here in the evening. Maybe Lucius' son will come home to spend Christmas with his parents. And I wish Narcissa wouldn't worry over me so much. I'll be back. I promise.

Till tomorrow,

Percy

That was the last entry Percy had written in his journal. Arthur picked up the locket and weaved the chain through his fingers. It was very pretty. A golden dragon's claw held a small, ruby heart that broke into two parts when you pressed a small, gold catch on the side. On the back was an inscription, which read: To Ginny, who gave me the courage to follow my heart. There was a picture of Percy and Ginny as children nestled inside of the locket, waving at him.

It was all too much and Arthur rested his cheek on the cool, satiny finish of his desk, faintly registering pleasure as it chilled his too-warm skin. He kept the locket firm in his palm, fingers curled over it protectively as the tears started leaking from the corner of he eye. His shoulders trembled with the aftershocks of reading about his son's final hours and he clutched at the trinket, the chain biting into his hand. Arthur wondered silently if he should let his wife read the journal. Would it bring comfort or misery? Even after reading it himself, Arthur still didn't know which emotion he felt.

He supposed that it at least gave closure, and he decided that Molly should read it after all. But not now. It was too soon and the pain was too fresh. This would only sink her back into the depression that she was only now emerging from. Their children were once again out of the nest and scattered to the four winds. Two were at school still, and the rest were all out and about, leading their lives and struggling with the day to day. Molly needed something to take care of, someone to concentrate on other than herself. Perhaps when Ron left school he would consider coming home for a while to keep her busy.

Arthur remembered with a painful smile that Voldemort's promise to Ron hadn't been a lie exactly. He'd promised his son wealth and fame if he betrayed Harry. Now Ron had these things, but all because he had not followed Voldemort. It was a bit ironic.

One of these days he needed to have a talk with Harry and apologise. He wasn't angry with the boy anymore, and Molly harped at him for his hasty words on a daily basis. Harry was growing up and was just as much a son to him and Molly as the rest, despite breaking off his friendship with Ron. Harry needed guidance and love more than Ron did, though. The poor boy had no real family to speak of except for those blasted Dursleys. All children make mistakes.

A frantic tapping startled him from his thoughts and Arthur had to think for a moment before he remembered that he had a window in his office now. He stood up swiftly to let the creature inside. It fluttered around for a few moments before landing on his desk and sticking its leg out for him to take the letter. After the letter was removed it flew away, not waiting for a reply or an owl treat.

Arthur shrugged and opened the letter. It bore the Hogwarts crest at the top and read:

Mr and Mrs Weasley,

Your presence is requested at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This concerns your daughter, Virginia Weasley. We've scheduled an appointment for you both this evening, approximately an hour after dark falls, in the Headmaster's office.

Yours sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

What the devil was this about then? Was Ginny in trouble?

Arthur sighed and looked at his clock. It was three hours until he was due to leave work, and roughly another two after that before he and Molly had to be at Hogwarts. He summoned a Ministry owl and scrawled a quick note to his wife, asking to have supper prepared early, as they had to go somewhere that evening.

He wouldn't tell her what was going on until he got home, there was no use upsetting her about all this. It was probably nothing to worry about. If Ginny had been in an accident they wouldn't set up an appointment for them, would they? Arthur only hoped that this wasn't bad news. Any more pressure on Molly and she would likely have a heart attack.

Since he couldn't concentrate on his work anyway, Arthur decided to write out a quick note to Mrs Malfoy, thanking her for her kindness toward his son. She had tried to at least make him think about the violence involved with being a Death Eater, even if she hadn't disputed that all of Voldemort's propaganda were lies. She probably believed them herself. But she had tried, and even though her advice to Percy came too late to save him, Arthur was grateful.

Right before he sent the letter out, he remembered that she had moved back to Mound-bluet- Malfoy Manor the day before and scribbled out the name of the hotel and wrote that instead. Arthur felt fortunate that he could at least spell the name, even if he couldn't pronounce it. He sprinkled some sand on the envelope to dry the ink and blew it away before attaching the letter to another Ministry owl and seeing it off.

No more work was done that day, as Arthur was lost in thought of both what might have been and what was coming next.

Reviewing is good for the soul. For the soulless, like myself, it may help you fellow writers out there with good karma and many review-like returns. Muah! ::flaps cloak and Disapparates in a poof of dramatic, green sparkles::