The Second War against Voldemort had ended much sooner than anyone had imagined. After the first "unyear" of war, it had been muttered about by those training the Boy Who Lived for battle that it would be at least five years before the sixteen-year-old would be ready to fully defeat the Dark Lord. People only had to hold off the hordes of Voldemort's minions that long.

Therefore, it came as quite a shock when a barely nineteen-year-old Harry Potter fulfilled the expectations of the wizarding world and completely destroyed Tom Marvolo Riddle. Those just outside Dumbledore's inner circle postulated that the murder of Remus Lupin was the driving force behind Potter's unexpected attack and consequent victory. And although Voldemort's second defeat at the wand of the Boy Who Lived undoubtedly saved hundreds of lives, it came at a high price to the Boy himself.

In the fearless, reckless manner that had become his trademark, Harry Potter brushed off the cautions of his friends and teachers and attacked Voldemort savagely but blindly. His lack of preparation meant that Harry was not properly protected when all parts of Tom Riddle were destroyed, including anything he had conferred upon Harry during their first meeting eighteen years earlier.

The traits Voldemort had bestowed were qualities Harry resented but had learned to use when necessary. For years he had alternately resisted and utilized these traits and tendrils had naturally woven themselves in and out his psyche. Voldemort's destruction had the same effect as tearing a tree out by the roots and Harry's soul was shredded almost beyond repair.

He had been bundled off to St. Mungo's almost immediately and was recovering in a heavily warded room.

Percy was well aware that his family, as some of the Order's most trusted members, likely knew everything about Harry's condition. He couldn't bring himself to inquire about the honorary Weasley, though, not even when he received a letter from Albus Dumbledore asking him to a meeting to discuss the Boy Who Lived. Although he had reconciled with most of his family to varying degrees during the War, he wasn't comfortable enough with any of them to bring up the subject of Harry Potter. He certainly couldn't imagine why Dumbledore would want to speak to him, of all people, when he was the only Weasley who was not a member of the Order.

Even when the Ministry changed its stance on the Boy Who Lived and acknowledged Voldemort's returned, Percy remained wholeheartedly faithful to the Ministry, and made no attempt to join the Order. Even when Cornelius Fudge was replaced by the much more competent Amelia Bones and Percy was quietly demoted, he remained faithful to the Ministry and began working harder than ever to regain the footing he had lost. That was when Arthur Weasley had forgiven his son, realizing that Percy hadn't chosen loyalty to Cornelius Fudge, but to the Ministry and what it stood for. Molly Weasley had, naturally, completely forgiven her son the instant Hermes swooped into the Burrow bearing a short note from him. Still, the idea of discussing Harry with either of them usually left Percy with a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.

So it was that, with far less preparation for a meeting than he'd had in years, he stepped onto the spiral staircase that would take him to the Headmaster's office. Two hours later, he had left as Harry Potter's Secret Keeper. During the first hour Dumbledore had tried every means he had--and his means were considerable--to verbally convince Percy to become the Secret Keeper.

He began with simple logic--there were dozens of Death Eaters still at large, and several of them were vying to be the next Dark Lord. Harry Potter had become a trophy among them, and anyone who managed to kill or better yet, acquire the Boy Who Lived, would cement a high standing among the Death Eaters. Harry, although he was slowly recovering, was still defenseless and needed as much protection as they could give him. The Death Eaters would be anticipating a Secret Keeper, but Percy would be the last person anyone would suspect.

Percy politely but firmly refused, telling Dumbledore honestly that he did not believe he was the best person for the job.

So Dumbledore added flattery to the mix, saying that although he and Percy were of very different opinions about many things, he had always held Percy's intelligence, dedication and perseverance in the highest regard.

Percy thanked him politely and refused him again, just as firmly.

Then Dumbledore added a little more incentive, pointing out that becoming Harry's Secret Keeper would go a long way towards redeeming him in the eyes of his family.

Percy refused firmly but less politely, telling Dumbledore truthfully that he would prefer to reconcile with his family on his own terms.

Applying more pressure, Dumbledore told Percy that someone at the Ministry had all but volunteered him to do this for Harry and that refusing could prove detrimental to his career. He added that Percy's career could not really stand another setback.

Once again, Percy refused him, abandoning politeness and telling Dumbledore that no one at the Ministry had mentioned Harry Potter to him and that he didn't appreciate threats.

Obviously, Dumbledore realized his mistake, because in the next moment, he was asking Percy to accompany him on a trip by portkey. The invitation was so gracious and kindly that Percy couldn't find a way to refuse, even though he knew deep inside that somehow he was being railroaded.

The portkey landed them in a small room that appeared to be a sitting room and dining area combined. At one end were a counter and sink with a table and chairs in front of them. A caldron was set up in the corner with a small, contained fire flickering underneath it. At the other end was a fireplace with a deep chair and a sofa in front of it. A full bookcase stood between two doors, one of which was open to show a washroom. The other door was closed, but Percy knew instinctively that it led to another room rather than being an exit.

It had been years since he'd been in a safehouse, but he still knew the feel of one--of being shut off from the world. There were no windows, and the fireplace would never be used as part of the floo network. The entire place was likely heavily warded against apparation, and the only way in or out was obviously by special portkey.

Then the second door opened and Severus Snape stepped through. Percy guessed there had been an alert about the portkey, because the Potions master didn't seem surprised to see them there, even though his eyes narrowed when he looked at Percy. "Headmaster Dumbledore," he nodded.

"Hello, Severus. You remember Percy Weasley, don't you?"

Snape jerked his head in Percy's direction, "Weasley."

Percy hastily reminded himself that he was six years out of Hogwarts. "Snape," he replied in much the same tone.

One dark eyebrow lifted a fraction, whether in surprise or amusement, Percy couldn't tell.

"How is Harry, Severus?"

"The same," Snape replied in a carefully clinical tone. "He seems to have reached a plateau of sorts this week. Only time will tell whether there will be further improvement. He awoke only moments ago and should be out soon."

Percy held himself rigid so that he didn't fidget and tried to look as though he was perfectly at ease with the situation. Judging from Snape's expression, he wasn't terribly successful.

The door opened again, and Harry Potter entered the room.

Checkmate.

Dumbledore had just played his trump card and, as usual, won. After a single look at Harry Potter, Percy knew he would agree to do anything to keep the boy safe. The boy because although Harry was nineteen, the look in the green eyes was much younger. In fact, Harry at nineteen looked much more frightened and uncertain than he ever had at eleven. When Percy had first met Harry eight years before, those eyes had been bright, direct and inquisitive but still a little wary, now they were wide, uncertain and frightened. It was enough to break the heart Percy's brothers swore he didn't have.

"I'll do it," Percy whispered.

That had been four months ago, and during that time there were so many strange occurrences around Percy that Dumbledore convinced Minister Bones that Percy was needed at Hogwarts. Near the end of August Percy was installed as the new History of Magic professor, replacing his old classmate, Jolie Tabor. She was off to further her studies in Japan and Percy's old professor, Binns, was one of the ghosts that had been destroyed while defending the castle from an attack two years before.

Although Percy didn't appreciate being shuffled about without being asked, he was reconciled to his situation when he saw his suite of rooms, which was twice as large as his flat. His room, along with his connecting office and classroom, were in the same wing as Gryffindor Tower, where Minerva McGonagall still reigned. Percy was surprised at how comfortable he felt there. He was also surprised to find that he rather enjoyed teaching and was encouraged by the fact that, unlike Binns, students weren't falling asleep in his class very often.

Dumbledore had mentioned that Harry would need a Secret Keeper for at least one year and perhaps two, but once Percy gave his promise, he was determined to make the sacrifice for as long as necessary. A few weeks into the new school year Percy decided--and felt a bit guilty about it--that being Harry Potter's Secret Keeper could very well be the best thing that had happened to him since the War began. Therefore when odd, and sometimes rather dangerous, things began happening to him at Hogwarts as well, Percy willingly agreed to the various precautions Dumbledore suggested, rather than risk being sent elsewhere.

Oliver always said the same thing no matter how dangerous or repellant his assignment was. When Special Auror Wood's superiors heard the phrase--"I'll do my best, sir," they knew the job would be done and done well.

Therefore, once he had explained the latest assignment, Chief Solis Starke calmly folded his hands and waited for the usual phrase.

"You want me to what?"

Starke blinked in surprise and quickly rearranged his thought processes to accommodate this unexpected response. "Which part of the assignment did you not understand, Wood?"

"You want me to bodyguard Percy Weasley? Percy Weasley?"

"You have objections?"

"Not exactly, but--"

"Excellent. Your briefing--"

"Why in the world would Percy Weasley need a bodyguard?" Oliver frowned. "He spent the entire War in an office."

Starke frowned, normally he wouldn't stand for being interrupted by his subordinates, but he made allowances for Wood, who was prone to speaking his mind off-duty. On duty, his stoic professionalism was nothing short of outstanding. Still, Special Aurors occasionally had to be reminded of their place. "As I told you, Wood, Mr. Weasley is now a professor at Hogwarts."

"I don't remember any of the staff needing bodyguards when I was at Hogwarts."

"The world has changed since you were at school," Starke reminded him dryly. "Albus Dumbledore made the request for protection of Commander Quinlan himself."

"Protection against what?"

"Nothing specific," Starke said in an off-hand manner, not noticing that Oliver's frown darkened. "Just the usual bodyguard duties, but at the highest degree possible."

"Have I done something wrong, sir?"

"Why would you think that?" Starke asked in astonishment.

"You're assigning a Special Auror to general bodyguard duties. Even at high degree, that sort of thing is for training newly enlisted erks."

"You believe Dumbledore is over-reacting to a situation?"

Oliver barely restrained a snort. If anything, Albus Dumbledore had always been the master of understatement. "No, sir. Of course not."

"Have you some objection to guarding Mr. Weasley specifically? I understand you were at Hogwarts together. Is there a problem there?"

"No, sir," Oliver replied promptly but not as emphatically as usual.

"Excellent. Dumbledore asked for our best to help and that is what he shall get." Starke rolled a small glass orb the size of a strawberry across his desk. "Here is your briefing."

Oliver caught it deftly. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"You report to Hogwarts first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed, Wood."

"Yes, sir."

It was only after the door had closed behind the Special Auror that Starke realized Wood had not made his usual statement. He shook off the feeling of unease and chalked up the omission to Wood's surprise at an unusual assignment.

Oliver spun the briefing orb widdershins to turn it off and settled back against the pillow he'd propped against his headboard. Lazily, he flicked his wand towards his wardrobe and murmured a spell that would start his clothes folding themselves. That done, he began reflecting on Starke's questions during their meeting.

Did he have a problem with Percy Weasley?

Oliver cast his memory back to Hogwarts and the seven years he and Percy had shared a dorm. Despite very diverse interests they had been good friends for the first few years. It was only when the Weasley twins joined the Quidditch team that a wall began to go up between he and Percy. As Oliver spent more time with Fred and George, Percy either became more critical in their presence or avoided them altogether. During their last three years at Hogwarts, Oliver's life centered more and more around Quidditch and he viewed their dorm as little more than a place to sleep and store his property. He ate in the Great Hall where he could make sure the rest of the team also ate properly--especially Katie who tended to opt for a slim figure over a healthy diet; did his homework in the Common Room where he could keep an eye on the comings and goings of his players--especially Harry who seemed to be a Snitch trouble was always Seeking; and every spare moment he had was spent on the Quidditch pitch either flying or plotting plays. People outside of the Quidditch team made little impression on Oliver in his determination to win the Quidditch Cup, and that included teachers, prefects, and Head Boys. His love life in school consisted of purely physical relationships with other students who were Quidditch fans and whose expectations of him went no further than winning the next game. That these fans were male caused him no problems--either personally or socially. That they were all built along slim and wiry lines--much like his roommate--occurred to no one, not even Oliver.

During the Unyear of War, on a cold Saturday in February, the Weasley twins met him after a game against the Chudley Cannons and invited him out for a pint or two (or five). Oliver was glad to see them and to catch up, because his world had narrowed down to Quidditch and Quidditch alone, more so after he'd dropped his subscription to the Daily Prophet because they began printing unflattering articles about his former Seeker. Fred and George filled him in on everything that was happening at the Ministry, Hogwarts, and in their family. Oliver commiserated with them over the attack on their father, snarled over Umbridge's treatment of Harry, laughed at the idea of McGonagall joining in the chaos against Umbridge and was outraged when he heard of Percy's throwing over of the Weasley clan and rejection of a Weasley jumper. What little camaraderie he might have still felt for Percy after two years away from school diminished even further when he heard about his old roommate's actions.

Then came the War and Oliver found something he wanted to dedicate himself to even more than Quidditch. As he moved up quickly through the ranks of the Strike Force, he had to make occasional visits to the Ministry of Magic to give reports or to receive special instructions and the occasional commendation. Most of the Ministry workers were regarded with disdain and mild disgust by the Strikers who were risking their lives daily, and so Oliver treated Percy with the same polite condescension as anyone else on those rare occasions when they did meet up.

Oliver finally decided that he didn't like Percy any less than he did any of the other parchment pushers at the Ministry. Any hard feelings he felt for the way Percy had treated Arthur and Molly were mitigated by the way Percy had been demoted to one of the lowest-ranking positions in the Ministry. He didn't remember hearing that Percy had left the Ministry to take a position at Hogwarts, and couldn't help wondering why Dumbledore would hire the one Weasley that hadn't joined the Order.

Still, he was confident that he would be able to do his job as well as always, so Oliver decided to hunt up some other Aurors for a last night out. After all, the briefing hadn't been specific as to how long he would be stuck in close quarters with Percy Weasley and Oliver wanted to get some fun in while he could.

As Percy stepped onto the revolving staircase, he wondered what new safety precautions Dumbledore had taken. Just two weeks ago Nymphadora Tonks had replaced Dorcas Wildsmith as the Defense Against the Dark Art professor, supposedly because Dorcas had wanted leave. Percy had assumed that had actually been for his benefit, but was now doubting it.

He entered Dumbledore's office and stopped short at the sight of a man in Special Auror robes with a rucksack over one shoulder, a broom over the other and looking better than any Auror had a right to look.

"Ah, Percy," Dumbledore twinkled at him. "You remember Oliver Wood, don't you? I'm certain the two of you won't mind being roommates once again."

"I suppose the story about why I'm here came as a bit of a surprise," Oliver said mildly, propping his broom against the wall.

"You knew?" Percy turned back towards him, disbelief and annoyance written clearly on his features.

"If was in my briefing."

"And you didn't object?" Percy's eyes widened behind his glasses.

"Why would I?" For some reason those glasses annoyed Oliver. They were the same horn-rimmed frames Percy had worn in school, and Oliver thought it was high time Percy transfigured them into something less ugly. "Why do you object?"

"'You will be introduced as a very good friend of Mr. Weasley's who will be staying with him indefinitely,'" Percy quoted Dumbledore.

"What of it?" Oliver unfastened his cloak and tossed it over the back of a chair.

Percy's lips tightened as his watched the careless action. "You do understand the implications of the Headmaster's statement, don't you?"

Oliver suppressed a snort in response to the condescending tone. "I do, thank you," he replied dryly. "Is your problem with having a male...er...good friend or with me in particular?"

Percy was actually stuck speechless for several long minutes. "With...with...the implication that I'm involved with anyone when I'm not."

"If it's any consolation, I don't find it the most believable cover, either," Oliver said agreeably. He dropped his rucksack on the floor and sank into an easy chair. "Fortunately, the only person who would really doubt it is Tonks, and she knows enough to guess why I'm really here and not give anything away."

"Give anything away? Such as?"

Oliver looked amused. "Are you trying to find where my objections would lie?"

Percy drew himself up even more stiffly and gave Oliver his haughtiest look.

Oliver merely stretched out his long, muscular legs, crossing them at the ankle. "No one would be the least surprised to see me with a man," he said simply.

"But for that man to be me would surprise people?" Percy was trying unsuccessfully to imitate Oliver's casually attitude.

"I think most people would be surprised to see you involved with anything besides red tape." Oliver glanced up at Percy, "And sit down, for Merlin's sake. Stop hovering about me like a maiden witch."

Percy looked down his nose at the Auror. "You can't tell me what to do in my own quarters!"

"Actually, I can," Oliver replied easily, hiding his annoyance at Percy's continued loftiness. "And I will. From now on, when I tell you to go, you go. When I tell you not to go somewhere, you don't."

An outraged flush burned on the pale cheeks. "How dare you!? I'll not take orders from some thick-headed Quidditch--" Percy broke off as Oliver rose so quickly that it looked like apparation. Oliver was only an inch or two taller, but more than twice as heavy, and the sheer power he exuded made Percy stop speaking.

"I'm assigned to bodyguard you, and how you or I feel about it doesn't mean a bloody thing." Oliver reined in his quick flash of temper. "I don't know what sort of odd ideas you have about a bodyguard, but it is not the same thing as a servant. I give the orders and you follow them. Not the other way around." He stepped aside and nodded towards the other chair. "Now sit down and I'll explain the rest."

Percy sat down before he actually knew what he was doing.

"Very good," Oliver said approvingly, and with a hint of amusement in his voice. He sat back down as well. "From now on, I go everywhere you go--except your classes. Dumbledore is setting up a cubby off the classroom where I'll have access without being seen by the students, so while you're teaching History, I'll be in there with my eyelids propped open." Oliver hid a smile as Percy's nostrils flared at the implied insult. "The rest of the time, we're going to be together. Depending on where we are, I'll tell you whether you should be walking ahead of, beside or behind me. We'll probably establish a routine here in the castle but the rest of the time, I'll tell you which one of us enters a room first and where to sit once we're inside. The same applies if I think something looks off inside of Hogwarts."

"That is utterly--"

"I open any post you receive, whether you recognize the owl or not," Oliver continued as though Percy hadn't spoken. "Back to mealtimes, I will pass you the plates of food that I'm sure are safe, and those are the ones you serve yourself from. Don't go reaching for plates on your own. The same goes for anything you drink. You don't get into bed until I've checked it out, and I'll be sleeping in the same room."

"And the water closet?" Percy asked with biting sarcasm.

"I go in and check first, and if there's a window, you leave it closed. Once you're inside, I'll put a ward on and I'll let you out again where you're finished. The same goes when you bathe."

"No." Percy gritted out. "Absolutely not. This is completely ridiculous. I'm certainly not going to account for every moment of my life as though I was some irresponsible--"

"Take it up with Dumbledore," Oliver said shortly. "But in the meantime, I've got a job to do--whatever I may think about it--and I'm bloody well going to do it. No matter if the former Head Boy gets his robes in a twist over it."

"How dare--"

"Leave off, Perce," Oliver said firmly. "This is the way things are. I can't imagine why you're so important all of a sudden and I don't really care. But I'm not about to ruin my reputation as a Special Auror just because you happen to like being bossy."

"I'll thank you to stop insulting me."

"And I'll thank you to stop being such a prig. You'll only make things more difficult for yourself and I won't quit over it. If I can sleep under a rotting house surrounded by bundiums and doxies every night for three months, I can put up with you."

Percy had always done his best to maintain certain standards of behavior. He had decided early on in his life that it was the only way he could maintain any semblance of dignity within the Weasley clan. Intelligence, propriety and achievements needed to be stressed to demonstrate superiority. Embarrassment, hurt feelings and self-doubt were all ruthlessly suppressed as signs of weakness.

Although these efforts weren't as successful at impressing people as Percy thought they should be, they were such an effective defense mechanism as to become habitual. This attitude had been more successful at the Ministry than anywhere else and was the only thing that had kept him in the Ministry after some of the disastrous decisions he had made.

It had only taken Percy a week or two to realize that these standards had little effect at Hogwarts' Head Table, and they were absolutely useless if Oliver Wood was at the same table. Everyone at the Head Table generally wanted to talk to Oliver rather than Percy, and whether they wanted to talk about his life as a Quidditch player, Striker or Auror depended on the meal. Although it annoyed him during the first week, Percy was now resigned to it. It wasn't that Oliver tried to draw attention to himself--just the opposite actually. But the quiet confidence was more developed than it had been in school, and people seemed to respect him without the least effort on his part. It was one of the things Percy had envied him when they were students, and a small part of what always made Oliver so attractive.

To others, Percy amended in his mind.

"Did you want pumpkin juice or just tea this morning, Percy?" Oliver's voice drew his attention.

"Just tea, thank you." Percy watched as Oliver set the pumpkin juice jug back down.

"You have third years first thing, don't you?" Oliver asked as he squeezed just the right amount of lemon in Percy's tea.

"Yes, Hufflepuff and Slytherin." Percy drew his cup and saucer closer

Percy had begun to accept Oliver's manner as the norm, at least when there were others about. After his initial rudeness, Oliver had become very solicitous in public but still maintained a distant professionalism in private. Percy was also acutely aware that this gallantry was responsible for the envious looks aimed at him by many of the female and also a few male professors.

Only four members of the staff were the same as those in Percy's day. McGonagall, Snape and Sprout still headed their various Houses, and Madam Pomfrey still reigned supreme in the hospital wing, but the rest of the staff were all new and the majority of them were under forty. Percy found himself in the unfamiliar position of being envied by his peers and he knew it was only because of his "relationship" with Oliver. He still wasn't certain how he felt about that.

"What are you going to be doing this morning then, Oliver?" Magnilde Loring fluttered her magically lengthened eyelashes at him.

"My days aren't exactly planned," Oliver replied to the Ancient Runes professor with yet another version of his standard answer. "I was thinking about going into Diagon Alley, but I'll probably stay in our rooms and catch up on my rest." With that, Oliver neatly took care of anyone who couldn't find him if they called at Percy's chambers.

"Merlin, Oliver," Roger Davies, now the Charms professor, grinned wickedly. "You seem to need to rest every day. What in the world do you do all night?"

Oliver laughed along with nearly everyone else at the table. It was not the laugh of a man who spent every night sleeping lightly on a cot in Percy's bed chamber. It was a low, throaty laugh and Percy felt his cheeks grow hot at the sound of it. Percy couldn't help noticing that his flush seemed to amuse everyone further, although no one seemed to think anything odd about it.

The only person who didn't seem to find the exchange funny was Professor Loring. She looked rather miffed at having lost Oliver's attention. She made another attempt--"I was thinking about going to Diagon Alley myself, since I have no classes this afternoon. Maybe I should call 'round for you just after lunch?"

Percy wondered if she realized how obvious she was being.

Tonks apparently did. "Brill! I've been meaning to go as well. We can make a day trip of it, hey?"

Oliver coughed slightly as Magnilde's carefully painted lips thinned. Percy suspected that Tonks, as a fellow Auror, knew the real reason for Oliver's presence, although probably none of the actual details. "Actually, now I think of it," Magnilde replied smoothly but coldly. "I believe I have some papers left to correct. I probably should be doing that."

"Another time then," Tonks said in her usual cheerful manner. She flashed a quick grin at Oliver, who responded with an almost imperceptible wink.

Percy, of course, was not the least bit jealous of that wink.

Oliver settled himself into his usual spot in the cubbyhole behind the tapestry depicting a battle of the Goblin Rebellion of 1612. It was the most effective spot for guarding that he had encountered in quite some time. The heavy tapestry effectively hid him and muffled any inadvertent sounds he might make, but could easily be flung aside if he needed to act. A large patch of the tapestry had been rewoven with demiguise hair so that Oliver could see the room clearly but was still completely concealed. He kept his eyes on the door as the group of fifth years entered the classroom.

After another quick but thorough scan, Oliver made himself more comfortable in order to enjoy the class. Usually, any class that immediately followed lunch was difficult to keep awake in--at least that had always been the case when he'd been in school--but Oliver found Percy's classes far easier to pay attention to than Binns' lectures had been. He thought Percy did fairly well with all his students, but was exceptional in dealing with the younger ones.

This particular class was always lively. Many of the Slytherins and Gryffindors that comprised it also played on their individual House teams. These students would disagree on every fact simply for the sake of disagreeing, but from time to time, Percy managed to turn the arguments into interesting discussions. Today proved no different as Vaughn Chittock, a Gryffindor Beater, and Marius Quigley, the Slytherin Seeker, spent much of the class contradicting one another on every point concerning Egyptian curse-writers. Percy never quite shouted--no school rules were actually being broken--but Oliver could tell he came close to losing his patience on several occasions.

It was another change in Percy that Oliver had gradually gotten used in the month-and-a-half since beginning his assignment. Rather than being a stickler for every detail of propriety, Percy was now more willing to allow smaller things to pass provided his students obeyed the majority of his and the school's rules. It wasn't clear whether Percy had changed on this point during his years at the Ministry or whether he'd had to make the adjustment soon after he began teaching in order to maintain his sanity, but Oliver found it much easier to deal with Percy the Professor rather than Percy the Prefect.

Oliver certainly never expected the assignment of guarding a prissy, proper parchment-pusher to be so enjoyable. He found that he rather liked being as attentive as possible to Percy in public and he especially relished the blush came to Percy's face whenever he did something extra considerate. He also found that Percy could actually take a joke, provided it wasn't entirely at his expense. Oliver now suspected that all his time spent with the Quidditch team, and thus the twins, may have skewed his perspective of his roommate.

The glasses, though, bothered Oliver more than ever. Percy's face had thinned since Hogwarts, leaving his cheekbones more pronounced, his eyes larger and his skin almost translucent. The heavy glasses obscured these features and Oliver found it endlessly irritating. Percy had also shed any remaining physical teenage awkwardness and the movements of the lithe body were fluid and graceful, making it no hardship to keep an eye on him. If Percy had noticed that Oliver's watchfulness wasn't always entirely duty-bound, he gave no sign of it and there were many indications that he enjoyed Oliver's attention. None of this had affected any of his duties thus far and Oliver was determined that it never would. There had not been the slightest hint of danger to Percy, but Oliver was taking a page from Old Mad-Eye's book and remaining constantly vigilant nonetheless.

Once the fifth-years had filed out, still squabbling back and forth, Oliver was free to leave his hiding place while Percy prepared for his next class. "I don't remember Ancient Egyptian wizards being quite that interesting," he remarked as he now leaned against a part of the tapestry backed by stone.

Percy glanced up at him and then went back to marking the pages he would need in the text with his wand. "Chittock and Quigley have both done a great deal of research on Egyptian curses. That always makes for an excellent debate."

Oliver blinked, and mentally chalked up another change. Head Boy Weasley had never been known to pass credit on to others so readily. He decided to let it go for now. "So it's first years next, isn't it?"

"Yes, Slytherin and Ravenclaws."

"I like watching you with first years," Oliver said. "You're really very good with them. And I think the change in curriculum is a brilliant decision. It's far better to be teaching first years about the Founders and leaving the Goblin Wars until they're older." He watched as a slight flush began on Percy cheeks, barely visible under the glasses.

"That was Professor Tabor's idea. She implemented it when she began teaching. I'm just continuing it." This time, Percy kept his eyes one his books.

Oliver could hardly believe he was embarrassing Percy Weasley with honest praise. He stifled a smile and changed the subject. "So there's another Quidditch match this weekend." Hufflepuff had beaten Slytherin during Oliver's first weekend on duty at Hogwarts.

"Yes, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw," Percy looked up now that his embarrassment had subsided. "I trust you will declare it safe for me to go."

For a moment, Oliver would have sworn there was a teasing glint in those blue eyes, but Percy looked down at his work before he could know for sure. In case it was, Oliver responded with a laugh, "Of course. We want as many people cheering for Gryffindor as we can get."

"Well, I won't be cheering for Gryffindor," Percy said absently, flipping through several quizzes he had to hand back.

Oliver wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "You...won't be--"

Percy stopped what he was doing at the sound of Oliver's bewildered voice. "That is, I will be cheering any good plays by Gryffindor, but I'll cheer for Ravenclaw's good plays as well." He gave Oliver a rare, genuine smile as he explained, "It would be different if I was the Head of Gryffindor, but I'm not, and I don't want to encourage any more division between any Houses now that theWar is over." He paused for a moment, then added, "Mostly over."

Oliver's respect for Percy rose a notch. He had suspected for awhile that Dumbledore had brought Percy to Hogwarts for safety's sake, but Percy obviously took his obligations--whether actual or perceived--very seriously. "I never thought of that," he admitted. "But I suppose its pretty important." He couldn't resist adding--"I hope Dumbledore knows how lucky he is to have hired you."

Percy blinked and this time his blush extended down to his collar and up to the tips of his ears. "I...er...that is...thank you," he murmured.

This time Oliver didn't try to stifle his smile and resolved to compliment Percy as often as possible.

In the evenings, when Percy was sitting at the desk in his living room grading papers or making lessons, Oliver would seat himself in one of the wing-back chairs in front of the fireplace, angling it so he had a clear view of two specific doors. One of the doors led to the History of Magic classroom, while the other was actually behind a portrait of Bridget Wenlock that hung in the hallway. Although his back was to the fireplace, Oliver was close enough to hear any telltale noises of a floo opening, something he kept alert for even though this floo had been closed off.

For the past ten days, Percy had sat himself at his desk for at least four hours every night making draft after draft of tests. Oliver remembered the end-of-term tests they were given at school just before the Christmas holidays. Students would study if the needed to bring up their marks or if like the legendary Hermione Granger, they studied and revised for everything, but the tests were rather insignificant when compared to the end-of-year exams. That wasn't the case for the professors, though, at least not for one professor in particular.

Percy spent more time revising, rewriting and double-checking his end-of-terms tests than he ever had preparing for his NEWTs. With only days left before he had to give the tests, Percy's nights were growing later and later as he tried to come up with the best tests possible.

One night during the previous week, Oliver had taken a look at the draft of the third year test. As he read over the questions, he let out a low whistle. "This ought to put them in their place."

Percy looked concerned rather than offended as he took the parchment back and reread it. "Do you think so?" He gnawed on his lower lip. "I asked McGonagall about my fifth year draft a few days ago and she thought I was being too easy on them. So I thought I should probably redo all of them."

"Go by what McGonagall says," Oliver assured him. "If anyone ought to know, it's her."

Percy didn't reply at the time, but in the ensuing five days, Oliver noticed him taking several heavy tomes out of the library. Among them were Teaching Standards at Hogwarts by Willow Everard, Teaching Magic by Adalbert Waffling, Magical Testing by Artemisia Lufkin and several more equally dry and dusty volumes. As he saw the subsequent drafts being rewritten time and again, Oliver resigned himself to the fact that this would continue until the Christmas holidays began. Percy was obviously determined to be as fair as possible to all his students and give them the most perfect end-of-term tests any professor could write.

With Percy's recent four hour stretch in mind, Oliver took his eyes off the doors briefly to ask Percy whether he wanted to break for a cuppa. When he saw the red head resting on a pile of parchments he was on his feet next to the desk in an instant. A quick survey with his eyes and then his wand confirmed Oliver's suspicion that this was nothing more than a case of exhaustion. Percy's deep breathing ruffled the quill feather resting against his cheek and occasionally rustled some parchment, explaining to Oliver why the lack of background noise hadn't drawn his attention earlier.

Oliver craned his neck to read some of the drafts and sighed when he saw three versions of the first year test and four of the sixth year--likely there were that many for every year. At times he felt that he'd learned more about Percy in the past two months that he had in the entire seven years they had roomed together at Hogwarts. Never, in all the years he had known Percy, would Oliver have described him as indecisive. Now though, he was beginning to see that Percy was exactly that--deeply, deeply indecisive. Oliver thought that actually explained a great deal about Percy's fanatical adherence to rules--as long as rules were in place and strictly followed Percy never actually had to make his own decision risk making a mistake.

Oliver wondered what it was like to mistrust your own judgement so much that you were afraid to step outside of established lines even a little bit. If absolute perfection was the only place he felt safe, Percy's day-to-day life had to be horrendous. He looked down at the sleeping man and thought about what some of Percy's recent life decisions--which were terrible no matter how one looked at them--would have done to his self-esteem and felt a sudden rush of protectiveness that had nothing to do with the job.

Resisting the urge to smooth down the bright, tousled hair, Oliver instead took out his wand and with the utmost professionalism, levitated Percy away from the desk and towards the bedroom.

Percy never thought he'd be glad that Gryffindor was out of the running for the Quidditch Cup, but he was relieved that the final match of the year was between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. If Gryffindor had been playing, Percy would have found it difficult to remain impartial himself, and he would have hated for Oliver to have to contain his enthusiasm. Although Oliver was not on staff and could cheer for whomever he liked, ever since they discussed it in November, he had made a point to cheer for all good plays, no matter the House.

This match marked sixth months of body guarding and Percy was impressed that Oliver never once wavered or slackened his watch, even though there had never been the slightest sign of danger. Percy wondered how frustrating it was getting for Oliver--whom he knew was used to being out and active--to conform to his habits, which revolved around desks and parchments.

If he was chafing under the sedentary lifestyle, Oliver gave no sign, unless the fact that he did his workouts in the evenings while Percy graded papers could be taken as a sign. He regularly refused invitations from Quidditch coach Rindy Powell, Roger Davies, Magnilde Loring and Librarian Ian Graves. What's more, Percy was certain that Loring's and Graves' invitations had nothing whatsoever to do with Quidditch. Oliver turned them all down readily and without any visible regret, but Percy often worried about how long it would be until his bodyguard asked to be reassigned to a less time-consuming duty.

Percy dreaded that day. He'd grown comfortable with having Oliver as his constant companion--far more comfortable than he'd ever been around the Quidditch player while in school--and knew he would miss all the attention Oliver paid him. Attentions which seemed to increase and grow more frequent as the months wore on.

That is, Percy corrected himself firmly, I don't like the idea of adjusting to a new bodyguard's habits.

As they entered the staff box, they were greeted by the other professors already present. Ian Graves, with the sun glinting off his silky brown hair and catching mahogany highlights, stood up in his seat at the front of the box. "There's room in this row," he said politely.

Percy had to fight to keep the scowl off his face. Graves spoke to Oliver and acted as though Percy wasn't standing right beside him. Then he felt the pressure of a big hand at his back nudging him towards the steps within the box. "Thanks, Ian," Oliver said with his usual smile. "But I want a really good view of this match. I think we'll sit a bit higher up."

Percy was possessed with the sudden, childish urge to stick his tongue out at Graves, and he started up the steps before he succumbed. Two rows up, Astronomy professor Valerien Summerbee smiled at him and moved over slightly. Percy returned the smile and halted by Summerbee's row. He had always gotten along well with the dark-haired man, who was one of the few staff members that seemed more interested in talking to him than Oliver.

The pressure at his back increased, urging him further along up the steps. Percy glanced behind him and was surprised at the scowl on Oliver's face. He was about to tell Oliver that Summerbee was certainly not a danger, but Oliver's guiding hand grew more insistent and Percy had to either keep moving or be toppled over.

With an apologetic smile at Summerbee, Percy continued on until Oliver's hand slid from the small of his back to his right ribs when they reached the second to last row. When Percy stopped, Apollonia Rhodes, the Divination professor, grinned at them and obligingly moved down to make room. In the row behind her, Roger Davies was laughing knowingly.

"Oh, belt up, Davies," Oliver reached over to give him a shove as he followed Percy into the row.

"Why are sitting you in the last row all alone?" Percy asked Roger.

"So he can say as many nasty things about Hufflepuff as he likes without getting into trouble," Apollonia laughed.

Roger did his best to look shocked and offended. "Of course not! These kids are all my students and I'd never--" He soon gave it up as a bad job, "How did you know?"

"She's the Divination professor, you prat," Oliver grinned.

"Oh, yes," Apollonia snorted. "And it takes a great seer to know that a former Ravenclaw captain wants his House to take the Cup."

Percy smiled at the banter, even though Apollonia unnerved him a bit. He personally thought she was a bit too cheerful and straight-forward for a Divination professor.

Oliver and Roger didn't seem to mind, though. They both teased and joked with her until the players took to the air. Then Oliver and Apollonia continued to snicker their way through the game as Roger alternately muttered advice to the Ravenclaw Keeper and swore under his breath at the Hufflepuff Chasers. Neither of them said too much to Percy, but he didn't feel excluded. That would have been difficult to do with Oliver sitting quite a bit closer to him than the seating dictated. In addition, Oliver often leaned across Percy to speak to Apollonia, bringing him into even more complete body contact with Percy, who was rather sorry to see the match end.

Not nearly as sorry as Roger, though. The two teams were tied most of the game, until a brilliant catch of the Snitch by fifth year Michaela Fancourt gave Hufflepuff the win and the Quidditch Cup. Roger still stood and applauded with everyone and when Magical Creature professor Jocelyn Bonham called back, "The Three Broomsticks, then? Rog?" he answered with a smile and a nod.

"Polly?"

"I'll be there," Apollonia wrinkled her nose at the nickname as she followed Percy to the steps at the end of the row.

"What about--"

"Move it along, would you, Joss?" caretaker Carlisle Tugwood prodded the tall blond. "The whole bloody box heard you."

Bonham shot a dirty look over her shoulder, but she joined the crowd that was leaving the box.

Apollonia was shaking her head in amusement, then turned to Percy and Oliver. "I think Joss meant to ask if you two were joining us."

Percy glanced at Oliver who raised his eyebrows to indicate it was Percy's decision. "Ah...no, thank you. I believe we'll just head back to the castle."

"See you later, then," Apollonia said as she passed them.

Percy and Oliver also let Roger past them on the steps and were the last ones to leave the box. As they walked back to the castle, Percy began to feel guilty about not accepting the invitation. He had no desire to go, but he thought that Oliver probably would have enjoyed it. He berated himself for refusing just because he didn't feel like sitting in a corner while everyone talked and jested with Oliver. It occurred to him that Oliver might very well enjoy the attention, and that his apparent indifference might be part of his dutiful cover.

"I...um...had you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with the others?"

"Not particularly," Oliver shrugged.

They had dawdled long enough in the box that they were far behind the still-cheering students and even the other professors. "Are you certain? We can still go if you like."

Oliver looked at him a bit longer. "It's fine, Percy. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought..." That you might like more interesting company for a change. "Well, that perhaps you'd want to join in the celebration."

"It's Hufflepuff's celebration," Oliver replied. "I had my Quidditch Cup celebration in our seventh year."

Percy smiled in spite of himself. "I remember."

"Great party. Went on all night." Oliver shot his companion a teasing look, "Even the Head Boy gave up trying to stop it."

"Even the Head Boy knew a lost cause when he saw one," Percy returned, secretly pleased when Oliver laughed. Then the memory of another brilliant Seeker, the one who won Gryffindor its Cup, suddenly came to Percy and his stomach tightened so painfully that he stumbled a step. He had purposely forced back any thought of Harry since becoming the Secret Keeper, when research revealed that it was often safer for the Secret. Now he saw the image of that lost and frightened savior in his mind's eye as clearly as the day he was at the safehouse.

"Percy?"

Percy felt Oliver's arm at his waist and looked at him questioningly.

"What is it? You've gone dead white."

The brown eyes were close and oh-so-concerned and Percy felt like it would be the most natural thing in the world to relax against that solid body and tell Oliver everything. Why Oliver had been assigned to protect him, who Percy was protecting and why he had agreed to do it. Instead, he murmured something about too much sun.

"I didn't think it was that warm." Oliver's arm became firmer and Percy leaned gratefully against it. "Good thing we didn't go to Hogsmeade."

Percy abruptly realized that Oliver was practically supporting his entire weight and reluctantly straightened away. He would have continued on to the castle, but Oliver blocked his path, looking at him so intently that Percy thought he could pass for a Legilimens.

Just in case Oliver had mastered the art at some point, Percy quickly dropped his eyes. Oliver certainly didn't need to know where Percy's thoughts led lately whenever they stood so close.

Oliver stared at him several moments longer, his eyes roaming over Percy's pale features. "Let's get you back to the castle, then." His arm slid around Percy again.

Percy knew he didn't need the assistance, but Oliver's touch was so comforting that he didn't pull away until they reached the castle doors.

Oliver smiled when he heard Percy draw in a long breath and congratulated himself on having maneuvered Percy into making the walk to Hogsmeade, as much for Percy's sake as his own.

School had been out for more than two weeks and during that time, Percy had only left the castle twice--first when Dumbledore decided the staff should have tea outside one day and then when Professor Bonham invited them to see the hippogriff hatchlings. The rest of the time Percy kept to his rooms, writing up endless student evaluations. It was when Percy began planning the next year's curriculum that Oliver decided they could both use a break.

Oliver was surprised that he hadn't become restless sooner, but he hadn't minded being sequestered with Percy at all. Of course, walking outside with Percy on a sunny day was certainly preferable, even though it meant Oliver had to pay more attention to the surroundings. He was determined not to let his guard down, although he was beginning to wonder how serious the threat to Percy was, as he still hadn't seen any sign of danger. On the other hand, he no longer doubted that Percy would put himself in jeopardy if he thought it was the right thing to do. Oliver's disdain for Percy as a mere "parchment pusher" had long since evaporated, replaced with feelings Oliver knew were better kept under control while he was on guard duty. "I know you want to stop at Scrivenshaft's," he said before the silence could grow uncomfortable. "Was there anywhere else you wanted to go?"

"I was thinking that I should probably get at least one new robe for the summer," Percy replied sensibly. "Perhaps two."

Oliver didn't let on how glad he was to hear that. He hoped that Percy would choose something more flattering than the robes he usually wore. Percy always seemed determined to wear the plainest, most severe clothing possible in the most drab colors he could find. "Anywhere else?"

"Not for me. Where did you want to go?"

Oliver looked at him with bemusement. "I go where you go, Percy. That's my job, remember?"

"Oh," Percy honestly looked as though that hadn't occurred to him. "Of course." They continued on in silence, but when the ruins of the Shrieking Shack came into view Percy spoke again. "I suppose I..." He cleared his throat and when he spoke again it was in the very proper, uptight tone that he rarely used around Oliver anymore. "That is, I'll stop in and see the selection at Quidditch Collectibles. And I believe a visit to Honeydukes is in order."

Oliver was touched by the small gesture and for a moment he couldn't think of anything to say.

Percy misinterpreted his silence. "And...yes, I think perhaps lunch at the Three Broomsticks would be a nice change." He glanced at Oliver quickly, "Provided that won't be too much of a bother for you."

"That should be fine," Oliver followed Percy's example and used his most professional bodyguard voice. "Mind you watch that you don't wander away." When he saw the smile tug at Percy's lips, it was all Oliver could do not to fling a companionable arm around Percy's shoulders, or better yet, to wrap a lover's arm around Percy's waist.

"We could go all the way up High Street to Scrivenshaft's and work our way back down. Then we'll be able to stop at the Three Broomsticks on our way out."

"Trying to do my job for me, Perce?" Oliver laughed. "That was pretty much my plan, as well."

The shopping excursion began very smoothly, and Oliver couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed a trip to Hogsmeade so much. After Percy stocked up on parchment, quills and ink at Scrivenshaft's, they stopped next door at Gladrags so Percy could get his new robes. Percy eventually purchased three robes and Oliver couldn't help wondering whether Percy actually chose his robes based on his reactions to them or whether it just seemed that way.

Done in Gladrags, there was a slight change in plans because Percy simply couldn't walk past the Iverwood-Rowan Book Shop. There, Oliver found the newest title by Kennilworthy Whisp and the latest editions of Which Broomstick and Quidditch Monthly and Percy bought several history titles. After that, it was across the street to Quidditch Collectibles where Percy seemed impressed to hear Oliver talk about the evolution of Quidditch in addition to the modern game. When Percy mentioned that he hoped to incorporate some Quidditch history in his fifth year curriculum, Oliver recommended Quidditch Through the Ages, after he got over his surprise that Percy had never read it, that is. Oliver always assumed that everyone had read it, much to Percy's amusement.

Except for the fact that he remained watchful, Oliver barely felt like Percy's bodyguard any longer. They could have been two good friends meeting in Hogsmeade for the day. They could have been something even more, but Oliver didn't think it wise to entertain those thoughts too often.

They crossed back to go into Honeydukes. Inside, Percy abandoned any remaining formality and all but rushed to the Chocoballs.

"I thought sugar quills would be your favorites," Oliver commented.

"I am fond of them, but I always preferred these," Percy admitted. "Dragon Egg Truffles are my favorites, but I rarely feel extravagant enough to pay that much for candy." Oliver realized that his staring was making his companion uncomfortable when Percy abruptly turned back to the display. "Look, they've added new flavors. Lemon chocolate sounds good and I believe I'll try banana marshmallow, as well."

Oliver stifled a smile at Percy's embarrassed rambling. He was about to make a teasing comment when the shop door opened again, drawing his attention. He saw three new customers enter the shop, and Oliver's instincts went on trouble alert, even before he actually recognized the three Weasleys. Percy never mentioned his family and as Oliver recalled his last conversation with Fred and George, he knew this was not going to be a pleasant experience.

"Ollie!" one of the twins exclaimed with they spotted him. "Oi, Fred! Bill! It's Oliver."

Oliver felt Percy stiffen at the first sound of George's voice and braced himself for whatever might happen as the trio of redheads approached.

"Ollie, old man, what--" Fred stopped short when Percy turned around and his normally cheerful expression darkened ominously.

George and Bill followed Fred's gaze. "Percy," Bill didn't seem as hostile as the twins, but he didn't look pleased to see his brother, either.

None of the Weasleys noticed the nearly imperceptible signs from their brother, but to Oliver, Percy may as well have been strapping on erumpent armor in preparation for something very painful. "Hello, Bill. Fred, George," his voice was excruciatingly stiff.

The twins, predictably, ignored his greeting. "Say, Ol, why don't we take you over to the Three Broomsticks for a drink?" George asked.

"You can always come back here when the air isn't so foul," Fred added.

Most people who looked at Percy would have assumed the twins' words had no effect, because his facial expression did not change. Oliver, on the other hand, noted Percy's trembling hands, carefully concealed in the folds of his robe; his suddenly pale cheeks hidden behind the heavy frames of his glass; the pain in his eyes obscured because Percy kept them stoically fixed on a far away point. Oliver could only assume that Percy's voice would shake as well, because Percy did not reply to the taunts. "I'm actually here with Percy," Oliver informed them.

George blinked in surprise. "Being punished for something, are you?"

"That's worse than Azkaban, that is," Fred added.

Oliver was about to retort--it angered him that they kept after Percy even when he didn't snap back--but Bill broke in to change the subject. "Mum's been worried about you," he said, his tone civil but extremely cool. "You haven't written since the letter when you said you were taking a position at Hogwarts."

"How long did you have to stay on your knees before Dumbledore gave you the job?" George sneered.

His twin decided to change the implications of the question by adding--"On his knees? I don't think Dumbledore is that desperate. I doubt anyone is that desperate."

Oliver had enough and drew his wand. He moved so quickly and looked so menacing that the twins took several startled steps back, Bill went for his own wand and the clerk hit the ground. Everyone was even more stunned when Oliver merely flicked his wand at the stack of order forms on the counter. After murmuring for nearly a minute, Oliver put his wand away, tossed a handful of Galleons on the counter, took Percy's arm and pulled him out of the shop.

Percy followed him readily, and it was several minutes before Oliver realized that the pale face was still unnervingly blank of expression. "They had no right, Percy."

"Of course they did," Percy whispered distantly.

"It's been over three years and the War is practically over," Oliver continued dragging Percy along back to Hogwarts. "They had no right."

Percy didn't answer, but continued following Oliver as though under Imperius.

"You weren't trying to hurt anyone when you decided to support the Ministry," Oliver said, verbalizing one of the many things he'd come to realize of the past eight months. "You were following your beliefs and they differed from your family's." Oliver's anger had propelled them along at such a quick clip that they had already reached the winged boars at the gate.

Percy still didn't reply and Oliver decided to let his words sink in a bit before saying anything more. He maintained his grip on Percy's arm, though, until they reached the portrait that guarded the doorway to Percy's rooms.

"Fwooper feathers," the password was barely audible and the portrait gave Percy a concerned look before swinging open.

Once inside, Percy headed straight for his desk, but Oliver caught his arm. "Percy?"

"I'm..." Percy cleared his throat. "I'm fine, Oliver. Being insulted by the twins is nothing new for me. They've been doing it for years, after all."

"I remember them saying things in school," Oliver acknowledged, watching as Percy levitated his packages to the desk. "But it was never that vicious."

"They believe they have reason," Percy looked pointedly at Oliver's had which was still clasping his upper arm. "Most people would agree with them."

Oliver pulled Percy around so they were standing face to face. "Who were you trying to hurt, Percy?"

Percy blinked, "I...what?"

"When you decided to stay with the Ministry instead of joining Dumbledore," Oliver clarified. "Who were you trying to hurt?"

"I..." Percy looked thoroughly bewildered at the question. "I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I just...I almost got sacked for the way I'd handled the situation with Mr. Crouch." The words began tumbling from Percy's mouth faster and faster. "Then...the Minister came back from the Third Task and told us that Harry and Cedric had disappeared...and that Harry came back covered in blood and holding Cedric's body...he said Harry was making wild accusations and that Dumbledore believed him. That they had tried to prevent the carrying out lawful sentencing on an Azkaban escapee. Then he said it hadn't been my fault I'd been wrong about Mr. Crouch...that a lot of people were being fooled."

Percy drew in a deep shuddering breath. "He made it sound so...so sensible. It just seemed...well, Dumbledore was always a bit daft and he'd always give Harry extra-special care. I thought he'd just gone round the bend and was believing whatever Harry told him. And Harry.." he gritted his teeth as though in pain. "Harry never cared much about rules and I knew he and Ron and even Hermione had done some dodgy things before. I thought...and then it came out that Dumbledore had people working for him outside the Ministry and I couldn't understand why someone wouldn't work through the Ministry unless they were doing something wrong. Fudge said that I would be a bigger asset to the Ministry in another position, but Dad acted as though they couldn't possibly want me for anything I could do..."

Oliver could see that this was the first chance Percy ever had to explain his choices, so he nodded encouragingly for him to continue.

"Dad hadn't always...sometimes the things he did seemed..." Percy shook his head. "Well...I thought--the Ministry has been around for centuries longer than Dumbledore. It seemed so much safer...it was so logical to stand by the Ministry. Even if another War did come, it was better to stand by the Ministry. But some people at work still muttered about the Weasleys being in Dumbledore's pocket, so I broke off with my family completely. I wanted to prove I knew what I was doing, that I was standing by my decision...and I was wrong and I'm a horrible son and I practically broke Mum's heart. But Dad wouldn't listen to me...I wanted to tell him that the Ministry was safer for the whole family. Then Dad...Dad got hurt working for Dumbledore and I knew if I tried to visit him everyone would..."

"All right, Percy," Oliver put a finger to the trembling lips to stop the near-hysterical flow of words. "You proved my point. Whether you were right or wrong, you didn't set out to hurt anyone. They twins were trying to really hurt you. That's why I say they're wrong. They were malicious." Oliver frowned at the memory, "I never would have thought it of them."

"They aren't really. Not with anyone else."

Oliver hated the weariness in Percy's voice. He was actually swaying a little, obviously drained after baring his emotions. Then a tapping at the window alerted Oliver and he looked over to see a large grey owl flapping at the window. Nudging Percy towards the sofa, Oliver walked towards the window, actually grateful for the distraction--another moment and he would have given in to the temptation to pull Percy into his arms. He opened the window and saw a Honeydukes collar around the owl's neck. The bird dropped the package into Oliver's waiting hands and flew back toward Hogsmeade, apparently having been trained not to accept payment for delivery. Oliver closed the window and quickly cast several spells over the package. When it became clear nothing about the package or its contents had been tampered with, he brought it with him back to the sofa and sat down next to Percy.

"What ever the reason for the twins' behavior," he said as he untied the package. "It was really too bad that you had to miss out on feeding your sweet tooth."

Percy looked in bemusement at the paper sack that Oliver held out to him. A quick look inside showed several dozen Chocoballs in different flavors. Without a moment's hesitation, Percy took a caramel apple one and popped it in his mouth. "Is that why you took out your wand? To make an order?"

Oliver was pleased he'd successfully distracted Percy from his thoughts. "I wasn't about to leave Honeydukes without getting candy somehow."

Percy chuckled and watched Oliver opened the other bundles. One contained several sugar quills, another, a package of ice mice and the third was a box of--"Dragon Egg Truffles?"

"I have no problem being extravagant and paying ridiculous amounts for candy," Oliver laughed and held out the box to Percy.

"No, thank you. Save them for yourself."

Oliver rolled his eyes. Surely Percy wasn't going to be troublesome over something as simple as chocolates? "Don't be ridiculous," he picked up a smooth chocolate egg and held it out to Percy. "Have one."

"I have the Chocoballs, which I will reimburse you for."

"Don't you dare," Oliver said. He leaned closer and held the egg in front of Percy's mouth. When Percy shook his head, Oliver let out an exasperated sigh and tried another approach. He bit off half the egg and held the other half out to Percy. "See? Just in case you didn't trust my bodyguarding skills."

Percy's eyes widened. "That isn't why--"

Oliver merely raised his eyebrows and after another second of hesitation, Percy closed the distance and let Oliver put the chocolate in his mouth. As he did so, Oliver's instincts took over and he kissed the corner of Percy's tempting mouth.

Percy choked on the truffle. When he'd recovered, he stared at Oliver out of huge, questioning blue eyes. Then he touched his tongue curiously to his lower lip, and Oliver decided that sort of display was more than any man should have to watch.

Lunging forward again, he covered Percy's mouth with his own, slid one arm around Percy's waist and let his other hand tangle in the fiery hair. Percy seemed stunned for a moment, but then opened his mouth under Oliver's and let Oliver coax him into exploring even further with his questioning tongue. In no time at all, Percy was leaning back against the arm of the sofa, running his hands up and down the muscular back while Oliver's skillful hands were working into his robes in a search for bare skin.

When he did feel Oliver hands on his ribs and chest, Percy gasped and suddenly seemed to realize what was going on. He broke off the kiss and pushed steadily at Oliver's shoulders until the Auror moved off him. "We can't do this," he said, standing up.

It Oliver took a few minutes to shake off the lustful daze that had enveloped him and understand what Percy was saying. "I'm sorry," he said immediately. "Percy, I don't know what I was--" He stopped and shook his head firmly, "No, I won't make excuses. I was completely in the wrong. All I can do is apologize and say that I completely understand if you want to ask Dumbledore for another bodyguard."

"No!" Percy exclaimed quickly. Then he dropped his eyes as he continued, "It's not as though you forced me, Oliver. But I don't think it would be right while...well, obviously there are extenuating circumstances." He straightened his glasses, which had been knocked slightly askew, "I certainly don't want another bodyguard. We just have to continue on as though this never happened."

Oliver didn't think it would be as simple as that, but if Percy wanted him to remain on the case, he wasn't going to argue.

It took two days, but Percy was finally able to slip out from under the watchful eye of his bodyguard. Since he had never tried to avoid him before, he hadn't realized just how good Oliver was at his job. In addition, only a handful of staff still remained at Hogwarts--the rest having gone after finishing up the year's work during the first few weeks of holidays. Even Dumbledore had left, no doubt attending to Order business. Only Snape, Tonks, Apollonia, caretaker Tugwood and groundskeeper Rhea Dearborn remained in the castle, and none of them were likely to help him escape Oliver for a few hours without expecting an explanation Percy didn't care to give. Asking Snape for assistance was out of the question; Tonks, as a fellow Auror, would no doubt alert Oliver; Apollonia might have looked on it as a good joke and gone along, but Percy still wasn't entirely certain whether she was a seer of any merit and didn't want to risk it; Tugwood was as unpleasant as his predecessor and Dearborn rarely even came into the castle for meals.

He finally had to arrange to be in the library at the same time as Apollonia and then appear completely absorbed in searching for books. He slipped around the stacks and practically ran for the door. Concentrating on his goal, he walked past the first two doors, opened the third and entered a room that hadn't changed much since he'd last looked for it in his seventh year. There was a cheerful fire in the fireplace, but instead of a desk and chair, there was only a comfortable-looking easy chair in front of the fire. Percy scanned the walls and found the real object of his search--a tapestry that was a bit out of place for Hogwarts. McGonagall had told the prefects about the Room of Requirement in Percy's fifth year, but the tapestry depicting a lioness with a cub nestled between her paws was Percy's own discovery, made when he'd sought the Room of Requirement to avoid Marcus Flint and Terence Higgs. Before that, he'd only used the Room occasionally so he could study without the twins pestering him. That fateful day, he had been searching for safety and had found it through the door behind the tapestry. It was a room identically furnished to the one he left, but the door disappeared immediately after closing behind him. Percy had sat behind the desk until the door reappeared, and when he left it and the Room of Requirement, he found that Flint and Higgs were long gone.

Percy had looked for the mysterious room in Hogwarts: A History, but it wasn't mentioned. He finally found reference to a Room of Sanctuary, along with several others that the founders had placed here and there when the castle was built, in some of Rowena Ravenclaw's more obscure writings. He'd been surprised to see that the Room of Requirement had been Salazar Slytherin's contribution while something called the Room of Sanctuary had been spelled into existence by Godric Gryffindor. He'd been even more amazed to read that Ravenclaw's essay had been charmed so that only Rooms that the reader had found would be described. Whatever Rooms she and Helga Hufflepuff had created would remain a mystery to him, but he was overjoyed to have found the Room of Sanctuary and had used it often when trying to avoid Flint and even, on occasion, the twins. According to Ravenclaw's essay, the Room of Requirement appeared in response to general needs, but the Room of Sanctuary was only found by those seeking safety, refuge or protection.

Today Percy was seeking refuge--a place that he could sort out his thoughts without the object of them being right next to him. He threw himself into plush red velvet chair and gazed into the fire, pondering how he could be happy and miserable over the same occurrence. When Oliver had kissed him, it affected far more than just his libido. There had been a wonderful feeling of actually being wanted, really wanted that Percy had never experienced before. He and Penelope had slept together several times, but the experience hadn't been fulfilling for either of them, and they parted amiably not long after. There had been two more experiences during his first year at the Ministry, one with a man and one with a woman, but Percy found it very difficult to discover what his partner wanted and somehow give it to them just the way they wanted. It was far easier to satisfy himself, and so he had been doing ever since. With Oliver, though, it had been overwhelmingly simple.

Oliver wanted him.

Percy had gotten the distinct feeling that Oliver found it fulfilling to take care of Percy in lovemaking as in everything else, and all Percy had to do was enjoy himself. Every little thing Percy had done during their brief snog seemed to please Oliver immensely. Part of what had startled Percy back to his senses was the realization that here was someone with whom he didn't have to plan every move to perfection.

In the next split second, it had occurred to him that after eight months without any other companionship, Oliver would probably have been equally enthusiastic with anyone. Because of his bodyguarding detail, Percy was the only person available to him. That's when Percy knew he had to put a stop to the situation before he got too wrapped up in it.

Ever since, those brown eyes would rest on him with a different look, making it more and more difficult to concentrate on anything other than the memory of Oliver's hands on his skin. He didn't dare mention it again for fear Oliver would decide to remove himself from duty, and if remembering with Oliver there was difficult, remembering without Oliver there would be painful.

Percy sighed again and closed his eyes. He hadn't resolved his problem in the least, but he did feel a bit better for having some time to himself. Even without the kissing, having someone constantly around was tiring for someone as solitary as Percy and being alone even for a short time was a welcome relief. He knew he had to return, though, before Oliver turned the entire castle upside down looking for him. Hopefully, he hadn't been gone so long that Oliver would actually become alarmed.

Opening his eyes, Percy glanced around for the tapestry of two other lion cubs playing that would take him back to the Room of Requirement. He didn't see it, but instead noticed something new in the room. In the corner opposite the missing door was such an amazing statue that Percy got out of his chair to examine it more closely. It was a stone statue, incredibly realistic, of a majestic lion that was lying down but still held his head erect. A stone badger looked very comfortable between the huge paws while a stone eagle perched on its back. When Percy reached out to touch it, the eagle rustled its wings while both mammals stared at him. Percy started and quickly drew his hand back. Then something in the lion's mane moved and Percy's jaw dropped when a stone snake slithered from up the lion's neck and peered at him over the top of the shaggy head.

"I...I was just looking for the way out of the room," Percy said to the statue respectfully. This was a fairly unusual situation, even for Hogwarts.

All four animals regarded him for several moments longer, then the eagle took to the air, the snake glided down from the lion's back and around Percy's feet while the lion and the badger walked away in opposite directions. Then an arched doorway with the Hogwart's motto carved above it appeared.

Thinking there might have been some changes, even in the castle, since the War, Percy walked through the arch which opened into a six-sided room with another archway directly opposite. Shaking his head at this new path out, Percy walked through into yet another room. This room was familiar, but Percy didn't see how he could possibly ended up where he was. Quickly turning back, he found the door had vanished, leaving him in the doorless, windowless room that was supposed to be in the Orkney Islands. As if clarify matters, the door to the bedroom opened at that moment and Harry Potter stepped through. He also stopped short at the sight of Percy and for several long minutes they merely stared at one another.

Then Harry fumbled behind him for the doorknob, never taking his eyes off Percy. "What are you doing here? Who are you?" He paused and looked harder. "I've seen you."

"I'm Percy Weasley, Harry," Percy said quietly. "Dumbledore brought me to see you last summer. Do you remember?"

"Yes." Harry didn't move any closer. "But why are you here now? No one comes here except--" He bit his lip.

Percy was happy to see that Harry was at least coherent this time, although he still looked frightened and confused. Confused, Percy could relate to. "No, you don't have to say. Harry, I'm not here to hurt you."

"You were doing something to protect me, weren't you? I thought they said--"

"Yes, I am."

The green eyes grew wider, "Is something wrong? Did something happen to--"

"Nothing is wrong," Percy hastened to assure him. "To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure how I got here. I wasn't looking for you. You're supposed to be miles away from here." He thought about the statue and whether it may have been a portkey, but then remembered he hadn't actually touched anything, not even a doorknob. "Are...are you at Hogwarts, Harry?"

Harry frowned. "Is that the castle? I hear S--I've heard a castle mentioned."

"Yes," Percy's mind began to spin. "Oh, Merlin, Harry. I'm not supposed to be here."

"I know," Harry replied so matter-of-factly that Percy almost smiled. "The only person who sees me is--that is, only one person comes to see me since Christmas."

Percy looked around, determined to find a way out and not panic. He couldn't imagine what was possibly happening, but he felt like everything had been turned on its axis. "I have to leave, Harry. You don't have to tell me the way out, but just...does the other person who comes to see you leave through an arched doorway?"

"No," Harry frowned, looking surprisingly like his old self. "He doesn't use a door at all. Did you come in through a door?"

"Yes, right there," Percy pointed to the blank wall opposite bedroom door.

"There's nothing there," Harry sounded dubious.

"I know. Oh, Merlin, let me think." Percy tried desperately to organized his thoughts. "Harry, I think you may have to go back into the bedroom again. Maybe then, I'll find the way out."

The bright eyes lit with understanding behind Harry's round glasses. "The bedroom door stuck a bit when I first tried it. Is that when the archway was opened?"

"Yes," Percy's shoulders slumped with relief.

"All right, I'll go wait in the bedroom." Harry stared at Percy for a bit longer. "I suppose you can't stay a bit."

Percy had to fight to find his voice. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"That's okay. I just haven't seen anyone different for a long time."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I have to get better first."

"Yes, you do," Percy said kindly, feeling a bit as though he was sometimes speaking to a six- or seven-year old. "But you're much better than when I last saw you."

"Yes," Harry agreed with a tentative smile. "I'll go then. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, Harry."

Harry went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. The next time Percy turned to the blank wall the arch was back and Percy rushed through it, the six-sided room and the first archway. Returning to the Room of Sanctuary, Percy wasn't entirely surprised to find that the stone animals had disappeared. He scanned the walls and suddenly he caught sight of a flash of color in his peripheral vision. When he turned fully, the lion cub tapestry was back and he was able to go back to the Room of Requirement.

He made in through that room blindly, his mind trying to process everything he had just seen as he rushed through the hallways back to his rooms. Harry was in Hogwarts! Had been there since Christmas. Likely had never been to the at Skara Brae. How in the world--

"What in damnation do you think you are doing?"

Percy spun around, his heart leaping to his throat at the sound the furious voice. "Oliver..."

Oliver grabbed his upper arm once again, not nearly so gently as he had in Hogsmeade, and began dragging him back toward his rooms. Percy stumbled along, still trying to process everything he had just seen.

"You went off on purpose, didn't you? Didn't you?" Oliver gave Percy's arm a sharp shake. "Agrippa's Urn," he barked at the portrait.

"Easy, lads," Bridget Wenlock said to them.

Oliver ignored the painting and propelled Percy through the doorway in front of him. "Why? I've been searching the entire castle for you! What in Merlin's name were you thinking?"

"That I needed a little time to myself," Percy replied lamely.

Oliver ground his teeth. "I knew it was a mistake to stay on after what happened. You'd do better with someone else guarding you."

"No!" Now it was Percy who clutched at Oliver's arm, hanging on to the only thing around him that still seemed stable.

His actions were unusual enough to make Oliver pause in his fury. "What's going on, Percy?" Oliver studied Percy's pale face and the wild look in the blue eyes. "What happened?"

Percy drew a deep breath. "I did run off and I'm sorry for that. But when I realized how worried you would be after about five minutes, but when I tried to come back--" There he stopped, knowing nothing he said would make sense unless Oliver was told why Percy had needed a bodyguard in the first place. The moment he made his decision, Percy knew it was the right one. He was overcome with such a feeling of relief that he fairly dropped onto the sofa.

Oliver sat beside him, curiosity overwhelming whatever was left of his anger.

Percy examined and discarded several ways of beginning, but finally decided to simply say it. "I'm Harry's Secret Keeper."

From Oliver's expression, Percy might as well have been speaking Mermish. "You're Harry's...Harry Potter?"

"Of course Harry Potter," Percy sounded exasperated.

"But Harry--" Dozens of questions raced through Oliver's mind, but it was no trouble deciding which was the most important. "How is he? I heard--how is he?"

"He's...I think he's getting better," Percy nodded as though confirming this with himself as he spoke. "It will be a while yet, but I believe he'll get better."

Oliver didn't need to be told why Harry needed protection. "The Death Eaters were getting that close to him?"

"Apparently. Dumbledore thinks that they'd want to capture him instead of killing him. Sort of a trophy," Percy said the words as though they tasted bad and noticed that Oliver's lip had curled in a similar reaction. "Whoever managed to capture him could likely become the next Dark Lord."

"Merlin..." Oliver closed his eyes. "Poor Harry...it never ends for him." He looked at Percy, obviously still confused, "But why--ah, that is..."

"Why me?" Percy asked with a tight smile. "Don't worry, Oliver, I asked him the same question. And he said it was for the very good reason that I'm the last person anyone would suspect." The perplexed look on Oliver's face hadn't diminished in the least. "Because I'm not in the Order, no one would think that I would be asked," Percy clarified.

Oliver shook his head. "Then why do you need a bodyguard?"

"Well..." Percy hesitated. "Some odd things happened to me. Someone put a sleeping draught in my tea one day. I only discovered it because there was no lemon so I used cream and it reacted with the potion. A few days later, someone sent me some Bertie Bott's Beans but I never cared for them, so I handed them off to some other people in the office. Six off them had to be rushed to St. Mungo's. A few days after that I got back to my flat and the door was unlocked. I didn't go in, but slept at the Ministry instead. That's when Dumbledore decided he wanted me at Hogwarts. When the same thing happened here--the sleeping draught, that is--Dumbledore put me under guard."

"That doesn't sound like you're the last person anyone suspects," Oliver pointed out. "That sounds like someone is on to you."

Percy considered this. "I suppose, but that's not what's important right now--"

"Not important?" Oliver looked outraged. "Percy, if someone suspects you, the Secret Keeper needs to be changed, for Harry's sake as well as yours."

"But I'm not Harry's Secret Keeper."

"Percy, what in all that's magical--"

"What I mean is that Harry is not where they told me when they cast the Fidelius charm. He's here. They told me he was at Skara Brae, but he's here. I just found him through the Room of Sanctuary."

"The what?"

Percy took a deep breath and backtracked. "The Room of Sanctuary is a room that sometimes opens off the Room of Requirement when a person needs safety or refuge. The Room of Requirement is--"

"I know about the Room of Requirement." A smile tugged at the corner of Oliver's lips.

"Oh?"

"Do you remember Renzo Nellisi? The Hufflepuff prefect from fifth year? He showed me."

"Really," Percy arched an eyebrow. "What was inside?"

"A sofa. In sixth year with Kyle Adler, there was a bed--same with Raphael Zared. And in seventh year--"

"I get the idea, thank you," Percy sniffed.

"What was in it when you visited it while at Hogwarts?"

"A desk." When Oliver's eyebrows shot up with interest, Percy scowled, "I went there to study."

"So did I," Oliver countered. "We were just studying different things."

"Anyway," Percy continued as though that little aside hadn't happened. "I had found the Room of Sanctuary while I was at Hogwarts, and that's where I went today."

Oliver's amusement vanished. "You felt you needed to be safe from me?"

"No, nothing like that," Percy hastened to assure him. "I just wanted somewhere to be alone and think. I sought out the second room because you could have found me in the Room of Requirement." Oliver nodded, and Percy continued. "When I tried to leave, though, I couldn't find my usual way out. And instead I went into a little hexagon shaped room, and that room had a door that led to Harry's safehouse."

"Portkey," Oliver said.

Percy shook his head. "I hadn't touched anything. Both doorways were arches without actual doors. What's more, Harry said that the other person--only one other person goes to see him and I don't think it's Dumbledore--had mentioned being inside the castle."

Oliver frowned as he turned all this information over in his mind. "That makes no sense."

"I know. I left--" Percy winced. "He asked if I could stay and visit, but I knew I had to get back here. I had to try and figure out what's going on."

"Can you find it again?"

"Of course I can," Percy said confidently. "I've already been there and it becomes easier to find every time."

"I believe you, Percy," Oliver assured him. "I hadn't even known about the Room of Sanctuary until you brought me there today. But why the trip to the library right after? What were you looking for?"

"An old book of essays by Rowena Ravenclaw. You can read about these special rooms after you've found them."

"But it wasn't there."

"No, it wasn't," Percy confirmed.

"I'd lay money that the essays were removed when Harry was placed here."

"Most likely."

"We'll have to tell Dumbledore we've found Harry when he gets back."

"I know," Percy continued as he sat on the sofa.

"But in the mean time, Harry is safe." Oliver dropped down beside him.

"Yes."

"Then maybe we can go over why you need the search out the Room of Sanctuary in the first place."

Percy was so bewildered by the sudden change in topic that he could think of nothing to say.

Oliver looked down-hearted. "I meant what I said before, Percy, although I shouldn't have yelled it at you. You would probably be better off with a different bodyguard."

"I don't want a different bodyguard," Percy insisted. "I want you." When Oliver's eyes widened in surprise, he realized that may have come out a bit too forcefully and quickly backtracked. "That is, I've told you about Harry, so certainly Dumbledore would want you to remain here."

Now though, Oliver could see through Percy's formality and he decided to push a little further. "Percy, unless I know what the problem was that sent you looking for a secret room to get away from me how, how can I possibly do my job? I can't, not if the person I'm supposed to be protecting is afraid I'll attack him."

"I'm not afraid of that," Percy exclaimed indignantly.

"No? Then why have you been so uncomfortable around me? You've been even more uptight that usual."

"I beg your pardon," Percy demanded in the most uptight tone Oliver had heard for months.

Much to his astonishment, it went straight to his groin. The memory of an extremely proper Percy turned into a wild thing by his kisses was prodding him to repeat the experience, duty be damned. All he had to find out was whether Percy was as willing as he'd been a few days ago. "Are you sure that I didn't force you?"

"Positive."

"Worried about your job then? Or mine? Because if we were both willing, it's not something we'd necessarily be reprimanded for. I know some people consider it unprofessional, but when it's long term like this--"

"--the bodyguard has to take whatever he can get?" Percy finished in an arch tone.

Lumos, Oliver thought, suddenly realizing why Percy had called the snog session off. His notion was so ludicrous that Oliver was barely able to stifle his laughter and wasn't able to restrain his grin at all. "Is that what you think? That I only want to be with you because I can't find anything else? Oh, Percy, you're so far off the hoop--"

"Really," Percy didn't looked convinced.

"Really," Oliver leaned closer and lowered his voice. "You really think that I only kissed you because I couldn't find anyone else to kiss?"

"Why else?" Percy schooled his features into a haughty expression.

That expression was enough to make Oliver jump Percy in that very instant, but he managed to maintain some degree of decorum. He had a few points to make clear first. "I suppose it didn't occur to you that I might be very susceptible to big blue eyes."

Percy's haughtiness transformed into astonishment. "Ah..."

"Or that I'm absolutely mad for men with long, lean bodies--especially when the body includes a fantastic arse."

Percy turned crimson, but didn't take his eyes from Oliver's face.

"I suppose you also didn't know that lately when you start lecturing, it makes me harder than I've been in years."

Percy opened his mouth but no sound came out.

"Or that with your mouth open like that, it makes me think ab--" Oliver didn't get to finish because Percy pounced on him, startling him into stillness for a split-second. He recovered quickly though, and immediately picked up where he had left off days before--rummaging under Percy's robes for the feel of bare skin. This time, Percy was doing the same, gasping with need.

Oliver knew this wasn't going to last long--he was already close to the edge and could feel that Percy was as well. He decided to get right down to business, and chuckled at the turn of phrase even as he sucked on the hollow of Percy's throat.

Percy felt rather than heard the chuckle and was about to ask what was so funny, but Oliver's hand had found the waistband of his underwear and slipped inside, leaving Percy incapable of forming a coherent sentence. He could moan, though, and he did. Discovering that was the only noise he could actually make, he moaned once more. Vaguely, Percy realized he should be returning the favor, and fumbled through Oliver's clothing to grasp the weeping cock. Oliver muffled his groan by biting down on Percy's neck. Then they were both pumping themselves into the other's hand, mouths fastened to whatever bit of skin they could reach.

Oliver slumped further down on the sofa, pulling Percy with him and running his clean hand through the bright hair.

"Sorry," Percy muttered into Oliver's shoulder.

Oliver wondered if his orgasm had affected his hearing. "What?"

"Sorry," Percy repeated. "I just--"

"Bloody hell, Percy, don't apologize. That was brilliant," the satisfaction in Oliver's voice was obvious.

"We didn't even get out clothes off," Percy pointed out.

"Nothing wrong with a little quick and dirty," Oliver returned. "Speaking of which..." he found his wand and cast a cleaning spell over both of them. When they were clean, he asked, "Didn't you enjoy it?"

"Yes, but I thought you'd want it to be more...well, it wasn't most people's ideal--"

Oliver stopped Percy's words by putting a finger over his lips. "You've got to stop with this kind of pressure, Percy, it can't be good for you."

Percy's eyebrows rose and Oliver wondered how he could possibly go from satiated to prissy in an instant. "You weren't complaining about pressure a few minutes ago."

Oliver chuckled, and Percy's expression became even more lofty. "Do you always make jokes without realizing it, Percy?" he asked, then kissed the thinned lips to take any sting out of his laughter.

Percy relaxed more fully against the broader body, no longer affronted.

"Don't get too comfortable," Oliver nudged him.

"Why not?"

"Well, seeing as you like getting things just perfect," Oliver traced a finger down Percy's cheek. "I thought we'd go to the bedroom and try this again."

Percy had to make an effort, but he managed to school his features into a very proper expression. "Anything worth doing is worth doing right."

Oliver laughed again, gave Percy a kiss and then stood up. Pulling the slighter man to his feet, he then let Percy lead him into the bedroom.

Once standing beside the bed though, Percy grew uncertain. "Oliver."

"Mmm?" Oliver began unbuttoning Percy's robe.

"I'm not very...I've only been with another man once before..." Percy admitted haltingly. "And we didn't actually...I mean, all we did was..." Words failed him entirely and he looked down.

Oliver could see how vulnerable such an admission made Percy, and he kissed him softly, reassuringly on the lips, nose, then forehead. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Percy. You just let me know how much you're comfortable with. All right?"

Percy nodded, then blinked when Oliver lifted his glasses from his face and put them on the beside table.

"Can you see anything without them?"

"Only things that are very close," Percy replied.

"Then we'd best stay very close," Oliver went back to divesting Percy of his clothes, smiling when Percy hesitatingly began doing the same. When they were both nude, Oliver ran his hands down Percy's sides, enjoy the feel of the lean torso. He glanced up to see Percy's reaction, but Percy had both hands splayed across his chest, sliding his fingers over the tanned skin. The sensation made Oliver's breath hitch and he slid his hands back up to cup Percy head and seal his mouth in a devouring kiss.

They tumbled back onto the bed began exploring as much of one another's body as they could reach. Percy was fascinated with running his hands over the prominent muscles that defined Oliver's back while Oliver was more interested in licking every freckle that dotted Percy's collarbone and chest as though he expected to find one that tasted like cinnamon.

Percy made a whimpering sound and began bucking against Oliver, and when Oliver slid one a thickly muscled thigh downwards, Percy opened his legs wider and tangled his slimmer legs around Oliver. The sensation of their pricks pressed together between their straining bodies nearly finished Oliver then and there, but after several calming breaths, he managed to slow himself down. Percy did the same, but it wasn't long before they began moving faster again. Percy buried his face in the crook of Oliver's neck with a long moan while Oliver let out a hoarse shout and their combined spunk fused their bodies together.

Oliver was collapsed on top of him, his heavier weight pushing Percy down into the mattress, but when he tried to roll away, Percy tightened his arms around Oliver's neck.

Really, breathing could wait until tomorrow.

Percy nestled his head more comfortably against Oliver's shoulder and wondered muzzily whether he should bother rising to find out what time it was. Then Oliver shifted in his sleep and tightened his embrace, so Percy decided that they both deserved a bit of a lie-in.

Rather than going down to the Great Hall for dinner the previous evening, Oliver asked the house-elves to bring some food to their room, and the elves were more than happy to oblige. He then proceeded to feed Percy by hand, interspersing the bits of food with kisses. After their meal, they took their time in lazy explorations of each other's body before Oliver gave Percy a blowjob that practically turned him inside out. Once Oliver was sated as well, they fell into a deep contented sleep from which Oliver had yet to emerge. Percy sighed happily and closed his eyes, ready to drift back to sleep.

He was just turning the corner when a huge commotion from the sitting room jerked him back to full wakefulness. Someone was arguing with the portrait that guarded Percy's door. Before Percy had fully realized what was going on, Oliver had disengaged himself and was pulling on his robe. "Wait here," he said, then headed into the sitting room with his wand at the ready.

Percy paused only a few seconds before getting out of bed and pulling on his robe as well. He hadn't even reached the bedroom door when a new voice sounded from the other side.

"Where is he? Don't play the big, brave bodyguard with me, Wood. Just fetch him here."

Percy's eyes widened as he recognized Severus Snape's voice. He was tempted to remain where he was--an enraged Snape was not something he cared to see first thing in the morning.

"Professor, you should know I'm not about to let Percy anywhere near you when you're acting this way," Oliver spoke in a voice Percy had never heard before. It was the voice a soldier and Special Auror--firm, commanding and supremely confident. "And definitely not when you have your wand drawn."

Percy's heart stopped when he heard that. The image of Snape holding a wand on Oliver was not one he wanted to contemplate. He heard Snape's exasperated tone and relaxed. "Don't be a bloody fool, Wood. Although I likely should hex Weasley into next week, we both know I won't do it. The wand was for that bloody-minded portrait you have outside."

Percy decided he had heard enough and walked into the sitting room.

No wands were in sight, but both men scowled at Percy when they saw him.

"Didn't I tell you to wait?" Oliver demanded.

"What in Merlin's name are you up to, Weasley?"

"What?" Percy looked at Snape because Oliver's question seemed rhetorical at this point.

"You know very well what," Snape's voice dropped to that dangerous silkiness that the younger men both remembered from school. "He told me you had been there to visit him yesterday."

"Oh." Percy tried not to let on that Snape was the last person he would have expected to be Harry Potter's caretaker. "That."

"Yes, that," Snape spat, his tone made Oliver shift his body slightly so that Percy was shielded from the Potions master. "Do you think being his Secret Keeper entitles you to endanger Potter's life?"

"I wasn't trying to endanger Harry!" Percy's exclaimed, outraged. "I would never do that!"

"Really," Snape didn't sound convinced.

"I wasn't even looking for Harry," Percy insisted. "I thought he was in the Orkney Islands. I was in the Room of Sanctuary and when I tried to leave, a statue let me pass into a little six-sided room and from there into the safehouse."

Snape relaxed considerably. "The Room of Sanctuary, hm?" he smirked. "Having a lovers' spat, are we, boys?"

"Professor Snape," Percy huffed. "I don't appreciate the insinua-"

"Don't be a prat, Snape," Oliver rolled his eyes. "Why couldn't we get back in later that day?"

Snape seemed amused rather than offended by Oliver's words and actually deigned to answer his inquiry. "Were you angry at any point yesterday? Not merely annoyed, but very angry?"

Oliver shot a side-long glance at Percy. "Yes, I was, actually."

"You can't enter the Room of Benevolence unless the sun has set on your anger. You wouldn't be able to pass through the second doorway unless you have only goodwill toward the person on the other side."

"Did you move Rowena Ravenclaw's essays, then?" Percy asked.

Snape shot Percy an ever-so-slight look of respect. "I did. At Dumbledore's request, of course."

Oliver had questions of his own. "Can we see Harry today, then?"

"May we," Percy corrected automatically.

Snape shot Oliver an archly amused look. "Astonishing really, that you haven't been hexed before this, Mr. Weasley. My compliments, Wood."

Oliver choked back a laugh at Percy's affronted expression.

"I will let you know at breakfast whether Potter should have visitors," Snape told them so firmly that neither was willing to dispute it. "Some days are naturally better than others. I suppose it would be beneficial for him to see other people."

"He's better than when I saw him in September," Percy offered.

"He is," Snape agreed. "He can now look after himself as far as eating and washing go, and he seems to be recovering some vague memories, but it will be at least another year before he is able to safely live without supervision."

"Am I supposed to remain his Secret Keeper the entire time?" Percy asked, "Or rather, pose as his Secret Keeper."

Snape actually looked a bit uncomfortable. "You will have to discuss that with the Headmaster when he returns."

"We certainly will."

Percy was impressed with Oliver for not giving an inch.

"Well, I'd better see to Potter before breakfast." At the door, Snape turned back, "By the by, Mr. Weasley, you might want to consider wearing a high collar today, even if it is summer."

Percy frowned in confusion, until he saw Oliver glance at his neck. Touching the skin, Percy felt several tender spots, and then felt heat as his entire upper body flushed bright red.

With a triumphant smirk, Snape walked through the portrait door.

Oliver made no objection and gave Percy's hand a squeeze.

They found the Room of Requirement empty except for the lioness wall-hanging. "Nice tapestry," Oliver commented. "Although I rather expected to see a bed in here," he slanted a teasing look at Percy.

"Hardly a requirement considering you now have easy access to a bed and privacy."

"Mmm...among other things," Oliver nuzzled and then kissed the suddenly warm cheek.

Percy tried to aim for a censorious look, but couldn't manage more than a pleased smile. "Shall we go on to the next room?"

"Lead the way."

Lifting the tapestry, Percy led Oliver through the door behind it, into an equally empty room.

"I thought you said there was a statue."

Percy only had an instant to consider the implications of Oliver's statement before the Auror spoke again.

"Oh. Bloody strange. Like a game of look-away."

Percy turned in the same direction Oliver was facing. The statue of the four Hogwarts animals was there again, this time the lion was standing with the eagle perched on its rump while the badger was underneath with the snake coiled contentedly around the furry wedge-shaped body.

"So how do we get in to see Harry?"

In response to Oliver's question, all four stone heads swivelled first to study him and then Percy. Then they separated in the same manner as Percy recalled and the arch appeared. Oliver's grip on Percy's hand tightened slightly as they walked into the six-sided room where the second arch appeared almost immediately. They walked into the safehouse where Snape was waiting for them.

Percy expected Oliver to release their joined hands now that someone else was present, but Oliver still held on firmly. If Snape noticed--and Percy would have bet a sack full of Galleons he had--he made no comment. "I told Harry he had visitors coming," he said before walking through the bedroom door.

Oliver grip on his hand tightened painfully and Percy he heard him muttering, "What do I say to him? Merlin, don't let me say anything that upsets him."

The words came as quite a shock to Percy, who had never before seen the slightest dent in Oliver's self-confidence. He tried to think of something to say that would make Oliver feel more comfortable. "You'll be fine, Oliver. If you really aren't sure about it, just be extra careful. You might very well be tempted to speak as though he was five or six--I know I was. He didn't seem offended by it."

That didn't reassure Oliver in the least. "What the bloody hell do I know about talking to a five- or six-year-old? The last time I was around one, I was one."

Percy couldn't come up with a response for that. Interacting with young children was one of the few things that came naturally to him. It was actually the only time he'd ever felt comfortable enough to abandon all his adopted behaviors. Until yesterday, that is.

As Snape emerged from the bedroom, Harry behind him, Percy forced the memories of the previous night from his mind before he grew harder than his robes could hide. "Hello, again, Harry," he said, congratulating himself because his voice sounded normal.

"Hello...Percy," Harry returned. Then his eyes came to rest on Oliver.

"This is Oliver Wood," Percy said. "He and I were at school a few years ahead of you."

"I know, Severus told me. And I remember his name from somewhere."

Both Oliver and Percy stared when they heard Harry Potter refer to Severus Snape by his given name, but Snape ignored their astonishment. "Wood was the Captain of your Quidditch team for your first three years at Hogwarts," he told Harry.

Oliver made a quick movement forward, but then halted himself. "You remember Quidditch?"

"I remember flying," Harry replied. "Sometimes. And I read about Quidditch."

"Indeed," Snape added dryly. "There was an article in his scrapbook. There must be hundreds of newspaper stories about the Boy Who Lived and the only one he ever saved was about the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup."

Percy looked at Harry, who didn't seem the least bit disturbed by Snape's harsh words, then glanced at Oliver, who had relaxed enough to smile at Harry. "I have that clipping as well."

"I'm too famous, though," Harry explained apologetically. "They barely wrote about anyone else."

"That's because you won us that game, Harry." To everyone in the room, including Harry, it was obvious that Oliver firmly believed every word he said.

That successfully broke the ice, and things went quite smoothly from there. Harry was obviously excited to have new people to talk with and every now and again Percy could see flashes of the enthusiastic boy who had been eager to learn everything he could about his new world. Occasionally, though, Harry would become confused, and that always seemed to frighten him. In turn, the sight of the recklessly brave Seeker so fearful was enough to fluster Oliver out of his composure. Fortunately, Percy or Snape were usually able to smooth things along.

No one realized how much time had passed until Harry let go a gaping yawn and leaned his head on Snape's shoulder. Percy's eyes widened and Oliver paused in mid-sentence at the extraordinary sight. Snape's glare just dared them to remark on the tousled head nestled into the crook of his neck, but neither of them had the nerve.

As Harry's eyes drifted shut, Oliver glanced at Percy. "I think that means it's time to go," he said quietly.

"This was probably a more tiring day for him than most," Percy answered.

"I'll take him into the other room so you can find the doorway," Snape stood and lifted Harry into his arms as though the twenty-year-old was little more than a child. "Good night, gentlemen."

"Good night," Oliver and Percy replied, almost in unison. Once the bedroom door closed, Oliver rose and stepped over to Percy's chair, his hand extended. "Shall we?"

Percy took the offered hand and stood, seeing the doorway over Oliver's shoulder as he did. "There's our way out."

Oliver turned to look as well. They walked through the Rooms of Benevolence, Sanctuary and Requirement in silence and started up the hallway to the staircase that this week led to the ground floor. They had climbed two staircases before Oliver spoke. "What do you make of that?"

Percy knew exactly what he was referring to, and glanced around the deserted corridor before answering. "I think Snape really cares about him," he said. "I don't know whether that's only since what happened or whether they had something before that."

Oliver nodded in agreement, "Stranger things have happened." He shot Percy another one of those teasing looks.

Percy felt a smile tugging at his lips. "Indeed."

"I'm sorry about before," Oliver said when they finally reached the portrait corner.

"There's nothing for you to apologize for," Percy assured him. "Although it did surprise me. I've never seen you that nervous before."

"It's not often I worry about what I say," Oliver confessed candidly. "It was the hardest habit to break in the Strike Force and as an Auror." He paused when Percy gave the password to Wenlock's portrait. "Usually I only have to be worried about getting myself in trouble," he continued as they settled onto the sofa. "What really threw me is the idea that something I said might set Harry back somehow."

"I can't see that happening," Percy gave him a half-smile. "Not when you start talking about flying right off like that."

Oliver smiled as he drew Percy closer. "Not surprising its something he remembers. It always came so naturally to him."

Percy settled himself comfortably against Oliver, a plan forming in his mind that unnerved him even as it brought an excited flush to his face. He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind just in case Oliver wanted to continue talking about Harry.

Oliver couldn't help but notice the blush that obscured the freckles on Percy's cheeks. Thoughts of Harry fled his mind for the time being, replaced ideas for the heated form pressed against him. "Come here," he twined his fingers in the bright hair and pulled Percy to him for a deep kiss.

After several minutes of intense snogging Percy slid down Oliver's body and ended on his knees next to the sofa. Oliver blinked when he felt Percy fumbling at his jeans, unbuttoning them quickly in spite of his shaking fingers. Percy was just reaching under the waistband of his boxers when Oliver took his hand. "You said last night you'd never done this," he said quietly.

"I want to," Percy whispered, leaning over to kiss the tanned skin on the back of Oliver's hand. It tasted like sun and fresh air even though Oliver had spent the last few days in the castle. "Please...I need to do this..."

Oliver groaned and released his hand, leaning back on the sofa. Percy pulled down the waistband and freed Oliver's already-hard cock. Oliver groaned again and clutched at the cushions as Percy explored his length and then his balls with those dexterous, inquisitive fingers.

What Percy was actually doing was stalling so he could prepare himself for what he wanted to do. Even though Oliver had seemed to enjoy doing everything to please Percy so far, Percy wanted to show Oliver that his pleasure was just as important to Percy. Moistening his lips with his tongue, he glanced up at Oliver, who was watching him through hooded eyes, and then gave the tip of the impressive erection a tentative lick. The swift intake of breath was encouraging, so he licked the entire length several times, becoming a little firmer with his tongue with every gasp Oliver gave. Then he took the head in his mouth and Oliver let out a strangled moan, "Ohhh...Merlin help me, Percy...that's so--"

Congratulating himself that he was doing well, Percy began moving his head up and down quickly, taking more and more of Oliver's length into his mouth each time. Oliver clutched at Percy's hair, trying to drag him off as his hips began bucking more forcefully. Percy shook him off and sucked harder, one hand at the base of Oliver's cock and the other gripping the muscles of his thigh.

"Percy, don't--" Oliver choked. "You've never--you don't have to--" Then he gave a hoarse cry and thrust his hips up hard.

Percy began to swallow Oliver's orgasm as it gushed into his mouth, but soon found it was too much. It became difficult to breathe and then impossible. Percy began to choke and desperately released Oliver's prick. A few last shots caught Percy on the cheeks as he coughed and gasped. Tears came to his eyes and Percy had to rest his head against Oliver's thigh as he tried to catch his breath.

Oliver was panting as well and his hand returned to stroke the soft red hair. "Percy?"

Percy wondered if there was a spell that could actually make the floor swallow him. How could something that had began so perfectly end up being so ridiculous and humiliating? "Sorry," he managed, and gave another small cough. "Sorry."

"C'mere," Oliver grabbed Percy's shoulders and tried to drag him up off the floor. "Come here, Percy," he pulled harder when Percy resisted.

Finally, Percy allowed himself to be pulled up so he was lying on top of Oliver, but he promptly hid his bright red face in Oliver shirt. "Sorry," he muttered again.

"For what?" Oliver used the corner of his shirt to wipe the semen from Percy's face. "That was pretty damn brilliant for the first time."

Percy finally met Oliver's eyes, but only to give him a look of disbelief.

"If you had let me know what you were going to do," Oliver wiped at another spot on Percy's chin. "I would have told you not to try and swallow unless you've had a bit more practice."

Percy raised his eyebrows, "Practice?"

"Makes perfect, after all," Oliver gave him a wicked grin.

"You must have had a lot of practice, then," Percy felt a laugh rumble through the body underneath him.

"I don't know whether that's a compliment or if you're calling me a tart."

"Oh, bloody hell," Percy buried his face back in Oliver's shirt when he realized his mistake.

Oliver stroked Percy's side with one hand while he straightened his clothes slightly with the other. "I think I'll have a shower to clean up instead of just a spell this time," he remarked.

"Oh." Percy obligingly crawled off Oliver and the Auror stood as well. "I'll have one when you're done them."

Percy hadn't noticed that Oliver was holding out his hand in invitation, so Oliver merely raised his eyebrows and waited.

With a frown of bemusement at Oliver's look, Percy finally saw the outstretched hand. "Oh. Oh!"

Oliver could practically see that clever brain coming up with ideas behind those bright blue eyes. "Hope the hot water holds out," he grinned.

The next two months were easily the happiest that Percy had ever spent in his life.

The notion made him feel vaguely guilty whenever he considered this, because he felt his happiest memories should involve his family. But nothing in his childhood, schooling or career had ever come close to this.

For the first time since he was five, Percy found himself with no responsibility whatsoever. School was out and Percy had already finished the next year's curriculum--he only went back to them from time to time when a new idea occurred to him. Although he and Oliver visited Harry almost every other day, Snape was the person in charge of his care and Harry seemed to be doing very well with that arrangement. There were no chores to do--the house-elves found the near empty castle irritating and compensated by spoiling the remaining occupants with the best care house-elves could give. If either Percy or Oliver had the notion, every meal would have been served to them in their rooms or even in bed. Despite Oliver's teasing suggestion, they had yet to ask for any such thing. At the moment, Percy didn't even have the pressure of being Harry's Secret Keeper, for if Harry was at Hogwarts instead of Skara Brae, the Fidelius charm was null.

Another novelty was the comfortable financial situation he found himself in. Room and board at the castle were included in his salary, which was comparable to what he'd been making at the Ministry. His parents no longer ran short on money now that all their children were grown and Percy wasn't entirely certain they would have taken money from him in any case. He put a great deal in his Gringott's account, but still had plenty to spend. There were more trips to Hogsmeade so Percy could spend much of his money at Gladrags and Iverwood-Rowan's.

Most of all, there was Oliver.

He was still constantly at Percy's side, still just as considerate and attentive in public, but was no longer professionally distant in private. When they were alone, Oliver was not in any way distant and rarely more that a quarter-hour passed without him touching Percy, even if it was little more than to brush the backs of his fingers against Percy's cheek. More often than not, though, they were in much closer contact, whether carefully exploring and re-exploring one another's bodies or just lying with one's head in the other's lap. And, of course, there was the sex, which--despite Oliver's reluctance to actual intercourse--was better than Percy had even imagined it could be. Educational too, because if Oliver's opinion was anything to go by, Percy's skill at giving head had improved remarkably.

For the first time in his life, Percy was living in and for the moment. If the reason behind this attitude was fear that it would end when Dumbledore returned, it didn't prevent Percy from reveling in every minute of Oliver's company.

Then, a fortnight before school was scheduled to open again, came the news Percy had been dreading. Staff members had been returning throughout the month of August and one day Percy heard McGonagall telling Sebastien Iverwood that Dumbledore was due back that afternoon in response to the Ravenclaw Head's inquiry.

Sure enough, that afternoon an invitation for them both to join Dumbledore for tea in his office was delivered to Percy's apartments. Percy resisted the urge to throw himself into Oliver's arms and somehow hide from whatever was going to happen, or better yet, distract Oliver from the meeting completely. The idea was so tempting that as they made their way up to Dumbledore's office, Percy purposely stood far enough away from Oliver so that there wasn't the chance of even inadvertent contact. Oliver stared at him in bemusement for a few moments before nodding and adopting a formal stance.

So it was a reserved, dignified professor and a stoic, indomitable Auror who entered the office, which didn't seem to faze Dumbledore in the least. He cheerily waved them towards an elaborately set tea table. "Mr. Wealsey, Mr. Wood, so nice of you to come," he twinkled, as though the invitation wasn't actually a summons. "I trust your holidays have not been dull."

The tea began pouring itself, while the plates of scones and sandwiches floated from Oliver to Percy until they each took some. Neither ate or drank, however.

"I was fortunate enough to speak to Professor Snape soon after my return," Dumbledore went on. "And it came to light, Mr. Weasley, that you broke the Fidelius charm by informing Mr. Wood of it."

The man was so kindly and casually intimidating that Percy had to struggle not to begin apologizing. "I'm afraid it's remarkably easy to break a non-existant charm."

"It most certainly does exist, Mr. Weasley--or rather it did, we may have to recast it." Dumbledore smiled benignly when Percy gaped at him. "I assure you there is a very good reason for the...er...misdirection and I did indeed want that Fidelius charm intact."

"So that if someone was looking for a Secret Keeper and found Professor Weasley," Oliver emphasized the position Dumbledore himself had given Percy. "Even if they managed to break the charm, they wouldn't find Harry. While we both understand the need to protect Harry, wouldn't just a Secret Keeper be enough?"

"All things being equal, that is quite correct," Dumbledore replied. "Unfortunately, all things are not equal in this case." The twinkled in the pale blue eyes disappeared, replaced by a steely glint. "Shortly after Voldemort's destruction, when the Death Eaters began grappling amongst themselves for a new leader, my suspicions that there was a spy within the Order of the Phoenix were confirmed." He waited a few moments for the younger men to absorb this shock before continuing. "I have been able to eliminate several members as suspect, but the majority of the Order can not be proved one way or another."

Oliver's expression grew darker with each word. "You're using Percy as a decoy?"

"Mr. Weasley is a very necessary part of Harry Potter's safety who was suggested by an extremely reliable person at the Ministry."

"Who suggested me?" Percy asked. "Minister Bones?"

"No, but someone who is practically her right hand," Dumbledore replied, paying no attention to the fact that Percy turned pale at this bit of information. "Of course we want you to be safe, Mr. Weasley, which is why we asked the very capable Mr. Wood to act as bodyguard," he nodded at Oliver. "And a smashing job he's done, too. One might call him a bit too capable, actually."

Oliver narrowed his eyes slightly, "Too capable?"

"Before Mr. Weasley came to Hogwarts, there were several attempts to...er... release him from his duties as Secret Keeper, shall we say," Dumbledore gave them another breezy smile. "And when that happened, we naturally received more clues as to the spy. We brought him to Hogwarts so he would be safe, of course, but also to better watch the trail left by any malefactor. We brought you in to keep him safe, but--"

"No." Dumbledore's words did not have the ring of truth to Oliver, but when he heard them, several things became plain. "You brought me in so the spy would know for certain that Percy was the Secret Keeper. He's the target, but I'm the guide. I might as well wear a bloody point me," he said through clenched teeth, desperately trying to keep his temper.

"But you'll be happy to hear that you will be able to relax your excellent watch from here on out. You will naturally remain here at Hogwarts, but you will be able to take things easy." Dumbledore's tone implied that he was giving Oliver a jolly present indeed.

"You want me to let someone get through to Percy?!" Oliver was beyond outrage, and rather than rising, his voice dropped dangerously. "Nevermind that appearing incompetent would hurt my reputation, nevermind that intentionally dropping my guard could get me sacked, you expect me to intentionally turn a blind eye if Percy is in danger? You must be out of your--" he suddenly realized he was speaking to the most powerful wizard of the age and swallowed his words with difficulty.

The twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eye. "You would hardly be the first person to say so, Mr. Wood. But let's look at this sensibly, shall we? The sooner you agree to let down your guard, the sooner we should be able to catch the spy and then everyone can get back to their lives. Isn't that a pleasant prospect?"

Oliver bit his tongue, cursing Dumbledore's ability to phrase things so that no reply was available.

"Truly, I'm hoping to have this wrapped up before the school year grows too old," Dumbledore went on. "I'm certain both of you gentlemen would look forward to having this over with by Christmas so you can do as you like this year."

Oliver looked at Percy, willing him to object, but Percy had he eyes fastened on his cup of Dragoncloud tea as though he hoped to see through the liquid to the leaves at the bottom. It was only then that Oliver realized Percy hadn't spoken for some time, which was truly strange considering the situation.

Dumbledore obviously took their silence as agreement. "Thank you so much for coming to tea, boys, and I'm sure you'll excuse me, as I have to meet with several other professors before dinner."

It was an unmistakable dismissal, and for all that Oliver wanted to stay and argue, Percy obeyed blindly, rising from the table and walking towards the door. Oliver remained torn only seconds more before following his duty which had also become his heart. He glanced back once more to find that Dumbledore had vanished the tea table and was absorbed in rooting through a bag until he found a humbug to pop into his mouth.

"Oliver, I don't want to have this argument again."

Oliver felt guilty at the weary voice, but was determined to convince Percy to see reason. "I don't either," he sighed, studying his lover, who was standing with his arms folded and his shoulders hunched. "But Percy, I can't do what Dumbledore is asking--I won't."

"Don't you want the spy caught? And Harry safe?"

"Harry is safe. And I'm here to see to it that you're safe as well," Oliver insisted for what seemed like the hundredth time to both of them. "What's more, I can't believe you're asking me to purposely do a bad job."

"I am not asking for that," Percy looked hurt at the accusation. "Our job is to catch the spy--"

"My job is to ensure your safety," Oliver corrected. "Dumbledore's job is to catch the spy. Neither of us are in the Order." He moved closer and wrapped his arms around Percy's waist from behind. "You took on the duty of assuring Harry's safety. Harry is safe where he is." His voice became low and coaxing, "I'm not sure being a false Secret Keeper is necessary to keep him safe, but if you want to do it, I can understand that as well. I don't understand why you think you have a duty to catch a spy for the Order. Percy, you never wanted to be a part of the Order."

Percy leaned his head back until he was resting on Oliver's shoulder. His eyes were squeezed shut as he spoke. "Things...things have changed since our meeting with Dumbledore." His voice was barely audible.

Oliver knew that something Dumbledore said had gotten to Percy somehow, and replayed the conversation in his mind. Recalling now just when Percy had withdrawn, Oliver frowned. "Do you think your job at the Ministry would be jeopardized? You looked like you were flattened when Dumbledore mentioned the Ministry."

Percy's sigh seemed to come from his very shoes. "Did you know that my father was promoted not long after Fudge resigned?"

Oliver paused at this odd question. Had Dumbledore somehow threatened his father's career? "Er...no, I didn't."

"Minister Bones appointed him as her Deputy Minister," Percy continued in that horribly defeated tone. "The family was very proud, of course, and so was I. After all, he's practically the Minister's right hand."

Similar words spoken by the Headmaster came flooding back. "You think your dad suggested you for a decoy?" Oliver simply couldn't reconcile this with what he knew of Arthur Weasley. "You believe he suggested putting your life in danger for an Order that you aren't even a part of?"

"He was so disappointed in me," Percy whispered. "And Dumbledore said during my first meeting with him that this could help reconcile me with my family. I should have paid more attention to him."

Oliver tightened his hold on the slender body. "Even if your dad did suggest it," he said doubtfully, "That doesn't mean you're obligated to put yourself at risk like this." He released Percy just long enough to turn him around so they were facing one another. "It doesn't matter in any case, because my orders didn't come from Dumbledore or even the Ministry. My orders only come from Commander Quinlan or Chief Inspector Starke and neither have them have told me to back off. So things are going to stay the same." Oliver pulled Percy even closer, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Unable to meet Oliver's eyes, Percy dropped his head.

"Percy, we're back where we started--again." Oliver pressed a kiss into the soft hair. "But we'll end up in the exact same place."

"But--"

"Percy," Oliver growled in exasperation. "What do I have to do to take your mind off this subject?" The brown eyes darken with heat as Oliver slid his hands down to Percy's arse and back up to his shoulder blades. "Hmm?"

"Oliver," Percy tried to sound stern.

"Any ideas?" Oliver whispered, his lips against Percy's ear.

Percy shivered, but made another valiant attempt. "Oliver, we are in the middle of a discussion."

But Oliver had decided that any further words would be pointless and set about convincing Percy of this.

"Honestly, Oliver, how do you expect toooooohhh..." Percy promptly forgot what he was going to say when Oliver found an extra-sensitive spot behind his ear.

"No more discussions, Percy," Oliver's voice was husky. He moved towards the sofa, dragging Percy with him. Then Oliver stretched out and pulled until the lighter man tumbled down on top of his sturdier body. "If you can even think about a discussion by the time I'm finished with you," he tangled his legs with Percy's so their groins were pressed tightly together. "Then I'm doing something wrong."

For two days, Oliver continued to distract Percy every time the redhead mentioned his bodyguarding. That Percy mentioned it several times a day did not bother Oliver in the least.

Percy was taking a shower before they went down to the Great Hall for dinner. Percy had insisted on taking this shower alone "or we'll bloody well never get down to dinner." Oliver had laughed, but left Percy alone after performing the standard safety check of the room.

A tapping from the only window in Percy's apartments brought Oliver to his feet to open the latch. The collar marked the bird as an MLE delivery owl and Oliver untied the rolled parchment with a sense of deep foreboding. The big eagle owl flew away without waiting for any sort of payment.

Oliver's fingers shook a bit as he broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.

Special Auror Wood
You are hereby ordered to report to Chief Inspector
Solis Starke in his office at Special Auror Headquarters
by morning bell 25^th August.
Reassignment will commence at that time.
Margaret Quinlan
Commander, Magical Law Enforcement

Oliver wasn't aware of anything until the sound of someone repeating his name in a worried tone broke through his consciousness. Finally, he realized someone was in the room with him and then recognized Percy crouched in front of him, dressed in a toweling robe, his hair still damp from the shower.

"Oliver," Percy looked relieved when Oliver finally acknowledged him. "What is it? Did something happen to Harry? What's wrong?"

Wordlessly, Oliver handed Percy the parchment and watched the blood drain from his face as he read it.

"Oh."

That was all Percy said, but the despairing note in his voice brought Oliver to his feet. "Damn Albus Dumbledore!" Oliver grabbed the parchment back and began shredding the offending document. "This is all his doing, I know it is! The MLE is supposed to decide if a bodyguard is no longer necessary, based on an Auror's report, no matter who made the request in the first place! He bloody well got to Quinlan somehow!"

Percy scrambled after Oliver before the Auror could make it to the door. "No! Oliver, don't make things worse!"

"How can I make things worse?!" Oliver raged. "He's sending me away and practically throwing you to the Death Eaters. How could things get worse?"

"He might decide to move me somewhere else, somewhere not as safe as Hogwarts" Percy said reasonably, although his voice shook. "For Merlin's sake, Oliver, he might decide to move Harry."

Not many things would have stopped Oliver at that point, but the mention of Harry was one of them. Especially since he knew that Percy's concern for Harry's well-being was every bit as deep as his own. Although Oliver and Harry did much of the talking during their visits, if Snape wasn't there, it was Percy Harry turned to if he somehow grew overwhelmed. Percy was much more attached to the defenseless young man than he'd ever been to the enthusiastic boy. He turned away from the door and ran both hands through his hair. "What, then?" he demanded.

"I don't know," Percy whispered.

Fighting the urge to slam his fist into the wall, Oliver strode into the bedroom and tossed his rucksack onto the cot he hadn't slept on for some time. Then he began to rummage through the wardrobe, seperating his clothes from Percy's before he cast the spell to pack them.

"What...what are you doing?" Percy had followed him in.

"Packing, of course."

"You're...you're leaving tonight?"

"I'm leaving within the hour," Oliver gritted out.

"An hour?" Percy asked in a whisper. "Oliver, if I could think of another way..."

Oliver looked up at the hopeless tone, took one look at Percy's expression and had him in a tight embrace instantly. "It's not you," he murmured, running soothing hands up and down Percy's spine, and desperately fighting the temptation to slip his hands inside the loosely tied robe. "It's not because I'm angry with you."

"Oliver..." Percy arm were wrapped around his neck like Devil's Snare. "I want... I want you to stay..."

"I want to stay," Oliver gave Percy a heated kiss to emphasize his words. "But if I don't leave now...oh Merlin, Percy, if I stay here even a few minutes more I won't be able to leave at all. A hippogriff couldn't drag me away, and then..."

"Merlin knows what would happen," Percy finished sadly. "I understand." He ran his slender fingers along Oliver firm jaw line, then leaned in for another soft kiss. "I have to go finish getting ready for dinner--my clothes and such are still in the lavatory."

"I'll be gone when you come back out."

"Yes," Percy turned to walk away, but Oliver pulled him back for another crushing kiss.

"Please be careful, Percy," the Auror whispered before releasing him.

Oliver muttered under his breath as he stepped out of Quality Quidditch Supplies and back into Diagon Alley. It was the first time in his memory that he hadn't been able to find anything in the shop to interest him.

He continued up the Alley toward Gringott's, ignoring acquaintances who tried to speak to him as he strode past. He'd planned to go into Gringott's to deposit his last month's pay packet, when the shadowy entrance to Knockturn Alley caught his eye. An Auror walking down Knockturn Alley was practically a beacon for trouble, and as he stepped onto the rutted cobblestones, Oliver contemplated where the best place would be to find some. Oliver knew that, as he was on his lunch break, his actions would be frowned upon by his superiors, but he was well beyond caring.

He was already in deep with Starke after responding to his summons. During that meeting, Oliver let Starke and Quinlan know exactly what he thought of the MLE agreeing to Dumbledore's request to pull him. Only his stellar record kept Starke from busting him down the ranks and revoking his Special Auror status.

Instead, Starke assigned him to office duty which he knew would definitely be punishment for someone like Oliver. What Starke hadn't foreseen was just how much Oliver would chafe under a desk job. On his third day Oliver put in a request for leave without pay, which practically forced Starke to grant it. All Starke could do was insist that Oliver finish out the week first, hoping that during that time someone would discover what had come over one of their best Special Aurors.

Oliver, of course, knew nothing of Starke's dilemma and wouldn't have cared if he had. He only knew that he could not sit behind a desk for the rest of the afternoon without a few drinks in him. He passed two pubs before coming to a ramshackle building with a sign announcing "Medusa's Teat" hanging over the door. It was by far the worst pub Oliver had ever seen, so he knew he'd found his place. If he found a bit of a dust-up to go along with his drink, so much the better. He was so intent on his anger that he didn't notice the figure in black that was watching him from an equally ramshackle building across the street.

Oliver could feel the stares as he walked into the pub, but acknowledged none of them. Looking around, he supposed he stood out more for the quality of his robes than the arm badges and belt that marked him as an Auror. Oliver realized at once that there was a no chance of a fight with anyone here--the patrons of this pub were pitiable rather than dangerous, and were looking at him with awe, not malice. The stooped, grizzled landlord rushed out from behind the bar, "'Elp ye, sir?" he asked anxiously, as though he expected to be arrested.

"Pint of firewhisky," Oliver replied.

"Aye, sir. Comin' up, sir," the landlord bowed respectfully and rushed away, leaving Oliver to find a seat.

Acutely aware of the wide-eyed looks he was receiving, Oliver found them far more unsettling than threatening glares would have been. But unpresuming as the patrons were, and although he'd come looking for a fight, Oliver still sat with his back to the wall. A duel was one thing, but he had no intention of letting a random Death Eater bag an Auror by casting on his back. The landlord brought his firewhisky in a glass much cleaner than Oliver expected to see, and Oliver suddenly realized that he would certainly not be able to cash his pay packet here. Quickly he dug out his moneypouch and found several Galleons and a handful of sickles. "Enough there for a ploughman's lunch as well?" he asked the old man.

"Aye, sir, an' then some."

Oliver dumped the handful of coins into the withered hand, and the man counted out two Galleons and five sickles, putting the rest back on the table. After staring at the money in bemusement for a few seconds, Oliver took a long pull of firewhisky, breathing deeply as the liquid scorched its way down to the pit of his stomach. He stared into his glass, but didn't bother contemplating what his problem was--he knew what his problem was. He'd known it the instant he kicked off from the Astronomy Tower, for all that he'd tried to deny it for several days afterward.

He'd fallen in love with Percy Weasley.

It was absolutely the last thing he could have pictured when he took this assignment, but the fact was that the uptight, particular, vulnerable, unconsciously sexy Professor-in-disguise had gotten to him in a way no one else had. He would have agreed with anyone who said he was fond of Percy--he'd never slept with someone unless he'd had some sort of affection for then, but he never imagined this all-consuming, almost painful, frighteningly intense emotion. How anyone expected him to sit at a desk when he was absolutely sick with the thought that someone could hurt Percy if he wasn't there, that he might never see the redhead again, was beyond him. He took another gulp of whisky to counteract the sour taste that was rising from his throat.

"Well, well, what's a nice Auror like you doing in a place like this?" asked a mocking voice.

Oliver started, berating himself fiercely for longing so much that he hadn't kept an eye on the door. When he recognized Snape's usual sneer above the black robes, he let out his breath in a low growl. "You bastard."

Snape had never quite been able to cower Oliver Wood, even as a first year, and he'd always had a grudging respect for that. "May the bastard join you?"

Oliver waved to the seat opposite him.

The landlord returned with a very generous helping of bread-and-cheese which he set in front of Oliver, along with a bowl of butter and another of pickled onions. "I'll have the same, Nutcombe."

"Aye, Mr. Snape," Nutcombe said.

"And another of these," Oliver drained his glass.

Nutcombe looked dubious, but nodded. "Right away, sir."

"Now then, Wood," Snape said when Nutcombe left them again. "What in all creation are you doing in Knockturn dressed in Auror's robes?"

"Looking for a drink, and to blow off some steam," Oliver admitted.

Snape was taken aback by his candor, "You came looking for trouble? Are you insane?"

"No, just in a bad mood. Especially since the pub I chose doesn't have any likely candidates for a dust-up," Oliver looked at Snape pointedly. "'Til now."

Snape snorted. "I assure you that attempting a duel with me would only put you in St. Mungo's for a week or so. After that you'd be back to yearning for your precious Mr. Weasley."

Oliver was torn between amusement at Snape's pseudo-challenge, anger at his mention of Percy and suprise that Snape recognized yearning when he saw it. Rather than reply, Oliver tore off a large piece of bread and began chewing. During that time, Nutcombe returned with Snape's meal and Oliver's second drink and picked up more coins in response to Oliver's gesture.

"And speaking of the light of you life," Snape continued as though Oliver weren't glaring at him. "You might tell those miscreant brothers of his that he's finally come into his Gryffindor heritage, Merlin help him."

From anyone else, such a statement might have been a compliment, but definitely not from Snape. "What do you mean?"

"He's all but announced he intention to place himself in harm's way, in an attempt to draw out the spy, the fool."

"What?" Oliver nearly choked on a pickled onion.

"I walked in on a discussion between him and the Headmaster," Snape explained. "One I was obviously not supposed to hear. I have more or less been ordered to stay out of it, however, and tend to my charge."

"Or he'll move him? Would Dumbledore put him in danger to get to you?"

Snape's black eyes glittered but gave away nothing. "The Headmaster takes very good care of his tools, even after they are no longer needed," he said smoothly.

Oliver's lip curled and he thought of Professor Lupin, "Provided they live through the using." He picked up his whisky, then pushed it away, deciding he wanted a clear head for this conversation. "What else?"

"What makes you think I have anything else to tell you?" Snape asked.

"You're still here," Oliver returned.

"Professor Tonks has taken over your duties...bodyguarding duties, that is," Snape said, apparently finding it endlessly entertaining to have Oliver snarl at him. "At Dumbledore's request, and thus far has managed to keep Mr. Weasley from disaster."

Oliver wasn't sure how he felt about that. Tonks was a fellow Auror, but even though she had tried several times, she had never been able to make it into the Special Forces. She was good, but not good enough for Oliver to feel comfortable about her guarding Percy. Admit it, Wood, you don't feel comfortable with anyone guarding Percy except you. "Bloody hell, they'll get themselves killed before September is out."

"That would be my estimation," Snape agreed.

"I'm on unpaid leave from the MLE as of Friday," Oliver said, gloating a bit that he'd managed to surprise Snape at least a little by saying so. "I wonder..."

"The Headmaster would not look kindly on you returning to Hogwarts right now," Snape informed him.

"I know." Oliver popped the last pickled onion in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "Does he know everything that happens at Hogwarts?"

"Not everything," Snape broke his bread into several pieces. "Although he does like to give that impression."

"I wonder if there's a way I can sneak in there to keep an eye on things," Oliver mused. He noticed Snape's eyes had narrowed speculatively, "Don't worry, this conversation never happened. So long as no one in here talks."

Snape glanced around, "No one will. You actually picked the worst possible public house if you were looking for a fight, Wood."

"I'd figured that out for myself. From the inside it looks fairly respectable and the food is excellent," Oliver polished off his bread-and-cheese as he spoke.

"It's the only pub in Knockturn Alley that dark wizards don't frequent," Snape continued. "Nutcombe and his wife lost everything during Voldemort's first rise because they were one of the few Slytherin families to resist him. They were lucky that the Dark Lord didn't kill them, he just saw to it that they lost their fortune. This place is all they have left."

Oliver acknowledged this with a grateful nod, "Useful bit of information."

"Yes, it has been," Snape agreed. He stood and tossed a few Galleons on the table to pay for his meal, although he hadn't finished all of it. "Good day, Wood."

"See you around," Oliver replied, the ring of promise in his words.

Oliver glanced at the windows, and wondered how soon he would actually be able to leave. He had received an owl bidding him to Medusa's Teat and he wanted to get there as soon as possible. He'd already packed up the few personal items he'd had on his desk and was itching to get out. Starke had finally reconciled himself to the fact that Oliver wasn't going to do any actual work when he'd returned from lunch with firewhisky on his breath days before and had given him the dodgy duty of assigning the daily cases to the Aurors as they came in. As these were rarely Special cases, all Oliver had to do was hand the assignment off to the next name that came up on the list or to whomever had the lightest caseload. He was just about to say "bugger all" and leave whether his last day was up or not when another assignment arrived.

Tossing a treat up to the owl that dropped the parchment on his desk Oliver took a moment to watch the bird catch it skillfully on the fly before turning his attention to the latest trouble. Breaking the seal, he began reading...corpse found, identity unknown as yet...black hair...no wand...likely Avada Kedavra...face and hands skinned...small patch of scalp carefully removed Oliver grimaced as he read that. Magical signature on back of knee, partially skinned, further charms required to identify.

He'd had a few other corpses to assign in the past week, most were found to be victims of accidents although there were two murders that had been easily solved. This, however, made every one of Oliver's Auror instincts go on high alert. This woman's identity was very important, even though no one of consequence had gone missing lately. He left the room of cubicles that contained the Aurors he usually presided over and made his way down the hall to the individual offices of the Special Aurors. He knocked second door and entered when asked. "Hi, Teghan, Broderick."

Teghan O'Rourke, so pretty and delicate-looking that no one every figured her for an Auror, smiled at him. "Finally decided to grace us with your presence, have you?"

Oliver knew he had been avoiding other Special Aurors since he'd come back from Hogwarts. It was unpardonable considering many of them had also been with him in the Strike Force, but especially in the case of Teghan and Broderick Miles, who had been teamed with him on some of the deadliest jobs during the War. In addition, Teghan had been a Chaser on the Gryffindor House team during Oliver's third and fourth years, while Broderick was a Ravenclaw from Oliver and Percy's year. "Sorry, I've been..."

"Not at all," Broderick shook his head. "Something's up, we know that. You tell us when you can."

Oliver nodded, grateful for their understanding. "In the meantime I was wondering if you'd like the honor of being assigned the last assignment I have to assign," he grinned as Broderick snorted and Teghan rolled her eyes.

"What so Special about it that brings you to our door?" Teghan asked.

In response, Oliver handed her the parchment. Broderick came around to read over her shoulder, letting out a low whistle as the words registered. "Anyone important disappear lately?" he asked.

"Not that I've heard," Oliver replied.

"Nasty piece of business, even for Death Eaters," Teghan mused. "Might not be one. Or a really rotten one."

"Some of the rotten ones are still out there," Broderick pointed out.

"You'll take it, then?" Oliver asked, "Because I'm out of here today."

Broderick and Teghan exchanged glances. "We'll take it," Teghan nodded.

"If you need more people, don't take just anyone," Oliver said. They all knew what that meant--Strike Force Aurors only. "And let me know as soon as she's identified."

"Where can we reach you?" Broderick asked.

"Send the owl to Hogsmeade," Oliver said. "Use Solstice or Galileo," he instructed, refering to their personal owls. "They should be able to find me."

Teghan cocked her head, "Oliver, what's going on?"

"I'm not certain, actually. It's just a feeling."

That was good enough for his fellow Strikers, as they had all gone on one another's instincts before, usually resulting in a saved life. "Will do, then."

"Thanks." Oliver left their office and stopped in to Starke's office only long enough to say leaving-now-and-will-be-back-after-Christmas-thank-you-and-good-bye-sir, then walked back out before his superior had the chance to reply. He grabbed his sack from his desk and took the elevator down to the Floos at the entrance. He tossed the powder, stepped in and said, "Leaky Cauldron," even though that was not his destination. He stepped out of the fireplace and apparated before anyone had the chance to realize he'd been there at all.

He finally reached the carefully-scrubbed landing of the Medusa's Teat and walked down the stairs to the pub. Nutcombe was there to meet him, holding a large, soft package wrapped in brown paper. "Professor Snape, 'e left this f'r ye. Said not to be openin' it 'ere."

"Thanks," Oliver took the package. "I guess I can't stay for a bite then."

"Best not, sir."

Oliver smiled and apparated again, this time to the room he had rented above the Iverwood-Rowan Book Shop in Hogsmeade. There, after running the standard verification charms, he tore off the paper and gaped at the silvery folds of material that spilled over his hands. He recognized it for what it was immediately, although he'd never had the opportunity to touch one himself. A parchment fluttered to the floor and Oliver bent to pick it up.

Mr. Potter requests that you return
this immediately after finishing
with it and trusts it will meet
your needs.
S.S.

"Bloody hell, Snape," Oliver breathed, stroking the eerily soft fabric. "You Slytherins come in damned handy sometimes."

Oliver let the invisibility cloak slide from his shoulders and draped it carefully over one of the wing-back chairs. He scowled as he looked back at the door that separated Percy's sitting room from his office, which in turn had a doorway leading to the History of Magic classroom. There was no longer any sort of charm on the door between classroom and office, while the password for Percy's quarters had not been changed since he'd left. Oliver was tempted to check with the portrait that guarded the other entrance and ask whether her password had been changed, but feared that the other portraits in the hall might alert Dumbledore to his presence. Instead, he opted to wait just inside the bedroom door for Percy to return and then show him how easy it was to sneak into the rooms.

He knew dinner would be over shortly and hoped Percy hadn't made plans that would keep him away from his quarters for too long. He was relieved when after only a half-hour, he heard the door from the office open. For a split-second, Oliver forgot he intended to lecture Percy on his lax security and nearly rushed out to grab Percy in a crushing embrace. He froze when he heard another male voice drift through the sitting room.

"Are you certain you're all right, Percy? I don't think being alone so much is good for you."

Bloody hell. Summerbee.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Valerien, but I'm fine."

"Damned cold of Wood to up and leave you like that," Summerbee went on. "Damned foolish, too."

Oliver gritted his teeth to keep from swearing aloud.

"Oliver has a very demanding job," Percy countered. "When his superiors call, he has to go."

So get stuffed, you lousy git.

Percy cut off anything else Summerbee intended with a polite but firm, "Good night, Valerien."

When Percy walked into the sitting room, Oliver completely lost sight of passwords and protection in a green haze of jealousy. "What the bloody hell is Summerbee doing walking you to your door?"

Percy let out a yelp and jumped back, crashing into the wall. He could only gape at Oliver in shock as the Auror stalked towards him.

"I'll lay even-odds that the smarmy bugger has tried every night since I left, hasn't he?"

"Oliver?" Percy looked as though he didn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"And why in Merlin's name haven't you changed your passwords?" Oliver demanded, recalling his original intent. "Have you forgotten what's going on here?" The moment he grabbed Percy's arms, however, a wave of longing replaced all other emotions. Oliver was shaken by the strength of his feelings when they'd only been apart for a week.

Percy had finally decided that Oliver was not a figment of his imagination and wrapped his arms around Oliver's neck, kissing him hungrily.

Oliver responded and went one better, practically tearing Percy's, then his own, robes open so they could be skin to skin. When he began fumbling with Percy's trousers, Percy returned the favor, and soon their cocks were pressed together between their straining bodies. They thrust frantically against one another, gasping and moaning their way to completion.

"Merlin, Percy..." Oliver barely managed to remain upright long enough for them both to stumble to the sofa.

"What...what are you doing here" Percy's voice was muffled because he still had his face buried in the crook of Oliver's neck.

"I'm on leave from the Aurors," Oliver replied after he'd caught his breath. "Dumbledore doesn't know I'm here." He tightened his hold on Percy. "Is it true you're planning to try and flush out the spy?"

Percy lifted his head to stare at Oliver. "How did you know about that?"

"That's not important." Oliver frowned at his lover, "Percy, are you mad? It's bad enough you're putting yourself out there without any protection, but if the Death Eaters suspect a trap..."

"Did you only come back to tell me what I'm doing wrong?" Percy's lips thinned indignantly.

"No," Oliver began giving Percy little kisses at the corners of his mouth, hoping to coax his lips back to their usual softness. "I came back because I was worried about you. And I missed you." Oliver's expression darkened as he recalled Percy's arrival, "And how many times has that Summerbee git offered to come in here to keep you company?"

"Valerien?" Percy was distracted out of his own anger by the question. "He's just being nice. You can't think he's the spy. Oliver, he's not even in the Order."

Oliver tried unsuccessfully to stifle his smile. "I didn't figure he was with you to spy, Percy."

"Then what?"

Running his hands down Percy's back to the partially bared arse, Oliver squeezed gently. "Let's go take a shower, blue eyes," he gave his best leer. "And I'll show you."

Percy dismissed the second year Gryffindor-Hufflepuff class and waited until the last black-robed student had passed through the door before heading for the tapestry. He had a fifteen-minute break before his next class and had no intention of spending it at his desk. He'd barely lifted the tapestry before he was enveloped by strong arms and thoroughly snogged. This had become the routine for them during the two weeks since Oliver's return. They never would have been able to keep Oliver's presence a secret from Dumbledore if not for Dobby, who, having decided Oliver and Percy were doing all this to the benefit of his beloved Harry Potter, saw to it that Oliver was always well-fed and comfortable and let him know when it was safe to move about the castle.

"Good class," Oliver said between kisses.

Percy would have smiled if his mouth hadn't been otherwise occupied. Oliver said the same thing at every break unless there had been especially big problems with the class, in which case he would just hold Percy.

"Sixth years next, then?" Oliver pressed several kisses on Percy's temple.

"Mmm...Gryffindor-Ravenclaw," Percy nuzzled Oliver's cheek. "Then a staff meeting. I doubt I'll have time to come back between that and dinner."

"If everyone is at the meeting, perhaps I'll use the cloak to visit Harry."

"That would be--"

"Professor Weasley?"

Both men froze at the sound of the girlish voice. Percy peered through the demiguise patch just in time to see a dark-blonde head disappear into his office. "Lethe Knightley? She's fourth year, not sixth," Percy said, disengaging himself from Oliver's arms and slipping out from the nook.

"Percy, don't!" Oliver hissed, but too late.

When Lethe Knightley walked back out of the impeccable office she stopped short at the sight of Percy standing in front of the tapestry. Her dark eyes shot from one door to the other and Percy could practically see the questions bubbling in her clever brain.

"What is it, Miss Knightley?" Percy asked, unease making him snap the words.

Lethe blinked in surprise at his tone. "I...was on my way to Trans and thought I'd return the book you lent me." She held out the copy of Shaman: The Early Separation of Muggles and Magic.

"Ah, yes...thank you," Percy said, trying to think of a way to make up for his sharpness before. Lethe, with her razor-keen inquisitiveness, had been a favourite of Percy's since he began teaching and like the Slytherin she was, she knew it. "Did you want to borrow the next book in the series?"

Lethe kept her eyes carefully on the book in Percy's hand. "Thank you, I would, but I'll get it another time. I don't want to be late for my next class." She turned to leave, but suddenly spun back and leaned quite close. "Best smooth down your hair and collar, Professor," she whispered. "You look like you've been snogging and those Ravenclaws notice everything."

There were several moments of stunned silence after she left, then a desperate strangling sound came from behind the tapestry.

"Do be quiet, Oliver," Percy grimaced, quickly setting himself to rights. "The little chit actually had the nerve to wink at me before she skipped out."

Oliver was pacing the sitting room, invisibility cloak draped over one shoulder, giving him the appearance of half a body. He had stayed longer than he likely should have with Harry, who was thrilled to have improved enough to be given his wand back for simple spells, and when he finally slipped out of the Room of Requirement, he heard the doors to the Great Hall opening, indicating dinner was over. It had been a rush to get back to the quarters before the hallways filled. Now he was waiting for Percy to return, prepared to completely cover himself with the cloak the very second the door moved--it was a precaution he always took. On occasion, depending on Percy's expression when he entered, a sneak attack was also in order.

This time, though, Oliver barely had time to make the decision before Percy spoke. "Oliver, where are you? This is it. You'll never guess what I overheard."

Oliver removed the cloak and dropped it onto a chair. "This is what?"

"My likeliest chance to trap the spy, or at the very least, draw him out into the open."

Oliver's heart sank when he saw the expression on Percy's face. It was uncannily like the twins when they were planning something--in a very proper, Percy-like way, that is. He debated whether to try talking Percy out of his plain now or letting him outline the plan and talk him out of it when he was finished.

Percy didn't give him the chance to decide, "I heard Tonks talking after the staff meeting--overheard, I should say, because they didn't know I was around the corner. I'm not certain who she was speaking to...Snape or McGonagall, obviously." He stopped to catch his breath and went on, "They were saying that the Order meeting originally scheduled for Hallowe'en had been rescheduled for the day before. Tomorrow. You see?"

"No," Oliver admitted.

"Dumbledore must have told them to keep it quiet, Tonks was speaking as though it were a secret. The Order hasn't tried to keep particularly quiet about the when and where of their meetings since the War ended. But they want this meeting to be a secret. You see?"

Oliver did see, but didn't want to encourage any insane planning on Percy's part.

Frowning a bit at Oliver's silence, Percy continued, "The spy won't suspect a trap. If he sees me in Diagon Alley--the meeting is in a little shop--he'll likely try to go for me. I can't tell anyone in the Order I know about this...oh, but I'll have to," Percy chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I'll need to know exactly which shop and I'll need someone to look out for the spy when he tries to get me. I just wish Dumbledore had said which members had definitely been cleared--I could tell one of them about this and they could stay on alert. Snape is to be trusted, obviously...I wonder--"

"No," Oliver said firmly, truly alarmed that the precise and methodical Percy was concocting such a chancy plan.

Percy glanced at him, then nodded. "Right. Snape has his hands full with Harry. That would leave Tonks or McGonagall, so--"

"No," Oliver repeated.

"Mmm..." Percy adjusted his glasses as he considered. "True, maybe it would be best to go without telling anyone, but--"

"No," Oliver gritted out.

Percy sighed with exasperation. "Really, Oliver, we'll have to use one of these plans."

"No." Oliver grabbed both of Percy's arms so his lover had to focus on him. "No to Snape. No to McGonagall. No to Tonks. No to you being anywhere near Diagon Alley tomorrow night. No, no, no. Do you need me to be any clearer?"

Percy tried unsuccessfully to shake off Oliver's hands. The grip wasn't painful, but it was strong. "Oliver, I have to do this."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do," Percy finally broke free. "This has to end. I wouldn't have minded being a Secret Keeper for a year or two if it meant keeping Harry safe, but it won't keep him safe, not as long as the spy is out there. It's up to me to catch him."

"It's not up to you!" Oliver tried to catch him around the waist. "Damn it all, Percy, you aren't part of the Order."

"That why I have to do it!" Percy's voice broke slightly as he yelled the words.

"Percy, this isn't the only way to heal things with your family," Oliver said desperately. "Time will do it and you don't have to risk your life in the process."

"You don't understand..."

"I understand you could get yourself killed!" Oliver finally trapped Percy against the wall. "I lost my mother and father and too damn many friends to this war...I'll be damned if I lose the man I love as well!"

Percy's mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"I love you, Percy," Oliver repeated in response to the disbelief plain on the pale face.

"No...not yet..."

Now it was Oliver's turn to gape. Not yet? Oliver had been prepared for many responses when he finally declared his feelings, from the ideal I love you, too, to I'm sorry, I don't feel that way. Never once did not yet enter his imagination. "Not yet?"

"This isn't right...Oliver, you're all mixed up," Percy squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "Oliver, this isn't supposed to happen until after I've caught the spy."

Oliver wanted to laugh, but it couldn't get past the sudden lump in his throat. How like Percy to have everything, even other people's emotions, planned just so. The true meaning behind his words were unmistakable though. "You aren't doing this for your family," Oliver whispered. "You're doing this for me."

Percy dropped his head, refusing to meet Oliver's eyes.

"Percy...Percy..." Oliver pulled him so close that Percy could feel his heartbeat. "Oh Merlin, I love you so much...but don't do this...please don't do this..."

"Oliver, I wanted...you're a hero, but I'm...why would you love me? Oliver, I want to give you a reason to love me."

"I don't need a specific reason to love you," Oliver gave him a searing kissing to demonstrate his words. "And if I did, I'd have plenty."

Percy shook his head, "I can't see how..."

"Please believe me, Percy," Oliver murmured into the red hair. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I love you," Percy's voice shook.

"Then what else matters?" Oliver pinned Percy's head between his hands and covered the closed lips with his own, probing softly with his tongue until Percy let out a little moan and opened his mouth. He felt Percy shivering under his touch and suddenly the desire to thrust into the warm, willing body, to prove Percy was his was overwhelming. "Percy, I know I've said we weren't ready for full on sex," Oliver bit down on Percy's ear, prompting another shudder. "But I need you...I need to be inside you..."

Between the emotions spinning through him and Oliver's tight embrace, Percy couldn't find the breath to answer so he only nodded. It was a heated trip to the bedroom, and they managed to scatter most of their clothes along the way. Once in the bedroom, Oliver put their wands, along with Percy's glasses on the nightstand. Percy slid into bed, watching with huge eyes as Oliver did the same, "What...what should I do?"

Oliver leaned over to kiss him him reassuringly, running a hand up and down his arm and feeling the gooseflesh that made Percy's hairs stand on end. "It would probably be easier if you were face down for the first time," Oliver grabbed a pillow and rolled Percy onto his so his arse was slightly raised.

Percy promptly grabbed another pillow and buried his face in it. "Ifllrdrkulls..."

"What?"

Percy lifted his head. "I feel ridiculous."

"You look delectable," Oliver told him, running a hand down the graceful length of Percy's spine to his buttocks.

Percy hid his face again.

Oliver leaned back just far enough to reach his wand and set it by the pillow cushioning Percy's hips, then sat back on his knees. He studied Percy's trembling form for a few minutes, before reaching under to lift Percy's hips even higher. Insinuating his hand under Percy's body, he began stroking the softening cock back to full hardness, occasionally reaching down to fondle the balls that hung down slightly.

Percy groaned and lifted his hips even higher of his own accord, allowing Oliver better access. Oliver smiled, smoothing his hand harder up and down Percy's back, and now down the length of his thighs, stopping occasionally to run several finger along the cleft of Percy arse. These were all familiar touches, and Oliver could feel Percy beginning to relax again, although he kept his hips raised. When Percy began to thrust against the hand gripping his cock, Oliver removed it, prompting a frustrated whimper. Oliver leaned over to press a kiss at the base of Percy's spine, picking up his wand as he did so. A whispered, "Lubricio" and his fingers were coated with a slippery clear oil.

Dropping his wand, Oliver moved that hand back to Percy's cock, while he began pushing his oiled fingers between the firm buttocks. He gently traced one finger over the puckered opening again and again until Percy was writhing and moaning. When he slipped in a single slippery finger, Percy choked and pulled on the sheets so fiercely Oliver was surprised they didn't tear. His second finger went in with surprising ease, and now Oliver was able to easily reach the small gland he'd been searching for. He knew he'd found it when Percy's moans turned to a startled yelp and he pushed back hard against his hand.

Percy took his face out of the pillow long enough to practically order, "For Merlin's sake, Oliver...do...do something..." his squirming and panting decreased the effectiveness of the command a bit.

Oliver grinned, glad Percy couldn't see his expression. He removed his fingers and moved so that he was directly behind Percy. Another lubricio and his cock was coated as well. Slowly, he began to push into the loosened opening, hesitating when he heard Percy's gasp, "All right?"

"It feels...odd..."

"Percy, if you want me to stop, tell me now," Oliver said, trying not to let the effort he was making show in his voice.

"I want this," Percy insisted, although his voice quivered a bit.

"I love you," Oliver told him as he continued thrust in and out slowly until his was sheathed up to his balls. He could hear Percy's rasping breathing, "Am I hurting you?"

"I don't...not actually...keep--keep going...."

Oliver reached around for Percy's prick which had wilted slightly and began stroking in time with his thrusts. After a few experimental motions, he found the right angle again, and Percy began moving with him. "Oh Merlin, you feel so good..." he panted.

"This is...this is..." Percy let out a cry and Oliver felt warm seed pulsing over his hands.

That was all he'd been waiting for, and now began to plunge into the silky passage in earnest. A few more strokes was all it took before he was there as well, spilling himself into the relaxed body beneath him. "Mine, mine, mine," was all he managed to mumble into the back of Percy's neck as he collapsed on the slimmer man.

After a few minutes, Oliver managed to roll off Percy, gently disengaging himself and then pulling his lover in close to spoon against him. "Are you all right?"

"Mmm..." Percy turned his head, searching for a kiss, which he got. "I believe so. Bit messy, though, isn't it?"

Oliver choked back a laugh and fumbled for his wand. "Not so much more than anything else we've done," he said, then cast a cleaning charm over them. "I meant more along the lines of--did I hurt you?"

"Hurt me?" Percy looked as though the notion was unfathomable. "Of course no--well," he paused, considering the state of his body. "I suppose I am rather sore. Although at the time, I certainly didn't notice."

This time the chuckle got away from Oliver, and Percy felt it rumble against his back. "Oh good, then we got it right."

"Of course we d-d-did..." Percy even managed to sound a bit pompous while yawning.

Oliver was about to reply, but a light snore told him it would be pointless. With another kiss to the freckled shoulder in front of him, Oliver slid into sleep a gently as he had into Percy's body.

Percy tried to look as though he was out for a casual evening stroll as he made his way out of the castle and across the grounds of Hogwarts. He had spoken to Tonks in her office during the lunch hour, and although she had been initially stunned to discover Percy had overheard her, she overcame her consternation enough to collaborate with Percy on a plan to catch the spy. Percy had just been on his way to dinner when Tonks met up with him in the corridor, giving him the name of a shop just across from the meeting place and telling him most members of the Order would be arriving there soon. Immediately, Percy veered off for the heavy doors to the outside instead of going in to dinner.

As much as he hated leaving the castle without telling Oliver, Percy felt he had no real choice. If Oliver knew about this plan, he would do everything he could to keep Percy from going. What's more, Percy knew that Oliver would succeed, and no matter what his lover told him, he had to do this.

Whatever Oliver's intention when he initiated intercourse the previous night, the result was that Percy felt more than ever the need to prove himself worthy of Oliver's love. He knew Oliver had been claiming him last night, but somehow felt he couldn't fully belong to Oliver--and Oliver wouldn't belong to him--until this matter with the spy and the Order had been settled.

Percy's determination only grew as he reached the gates of Hogwarts. Once outside them, he was able to apparate to Diagon Alley, landing just in front of Fortescue's. He glanced around curiously for any Order members before walking down the Alley, past Gringott's, to the very end of the street. Although more respectable than Knockturn Alley, this less-traveled end of Diagon Alley was the home for lower-end shops or those of a slightly questionable nature.

Locating the dingy shop called Jumble-Be's, Percy glanced across the street at a small tavern called The Nogtail which was just where Tonks said it would be. Tonks had also said the door would be unlocked, but Percy never actually found that out for certain. The moment he touched the door handle, he felt a sickeningly familiar tugging behind his navel and almost before he could register that something had gone terribly wrong, he found himself deposited onto the black marble floor of the most opulent rooms he had ever seen.

A regal blonde dressed in green velvet smiled cordially at him, as though there wasn't a predatory brunette on her right pointing a wand at Percy or Tonks wasn't doing the same from her left. "Good evening, Mr. Weasley," the blonde spoke with a beautifully cultured voice. "I don't believe we've ever been formally introduced, although you have met my niece, Nymphadora. This," she gestured to her right. "Is my sister, Bellatrix Black Lestrange. I, of course, am Narcissa Black Malfory. And you, Mr. Weasley, are going to hand us Mr. Potter."

"Congratulations," Bellatrix cackled. "Found your spy, you clever boy."

He found the cloak and threw it on, heading for the dungeons and hoping that Snape hadn't left yet. As he reached the bottom of the last staircase, Oliver saw a tall, black-robed figure disappearing into the Potions classroom and rushed after him.

"You've obviously forgotten everything the Aurors taught you," Snape said casually as he sat at his desk and picked up a quill. "I heard you racketing through my classroom like a wounded dragon."

Oliver ignored the barb and let the cloak slip to the floor. "Where's the meeting?" he demanded, planting both hands on Snape's desk.

"Meeting?" Snape didn't bother looking up. After facing the Dark Lord, it was obviously going to take more than a single Special Auror to intimidate him.

"The Order meeting tonight," Oliver clarified. "Where is it?"

"There is no Order meeting tonight," Snape dipped his quill in ink and began writing.

Gritting his teeth, Oliver plucked the quill from Snape's hand. "I know the meeting was changed to tonight. Now where is it?"

Snape gave him a basilisk's glare and took his quill back. "The meeting was rescheduled for the night after Hallowe'en."

Oliver gaped at him. "Are you sure?"

Snape's glare intensified.

"But Tonks and Percy have gone to Diagon Alley tonight."

"Bloody hell," Snape growled, throwing down his quill. "How in Salazar's name did that silly bint live through this War?"

Oliver picked up the invisibility cloak again. "I'll just grab a warmer robe and then go get them."

"You do that," Snape went back to his work.

Sighing, Oliver made his way back to Percy's chambers. Before he could change clothes, though, there was a tapping at the window. Recognizing the tiny Solstice, Oliver hurried to let the little owl in. Relieved of her letter, Solstice perched happily on Oliver's shoulder, tweaking his ear affectionately. Oliver unrolled the parchment and scanned the contents. Halfway through, he had to begin again, going more slowly to be certain about what he was reading.

Ollie--
Your instincts are as good as ever.
Closer inspection of wounds reveal clumsier job than
at first glance. Tattoo on victim's leg identified her as
Dorcas Wildsmith, member of Dark Arts Defense League.
Was DADA professor at Hogwarts until summer before last.
Supposedly took sick leave. Magical sigs on body point to
Auror hexes. It's one of our own, Ollie.
This is your call, send next move with Solstice.
Tegs

"I'll stick her treacherous head on a pike myself," Oliver snarled as the pieces slid into place with horrible clarity.

Narcissa looked disappointed. "For shame, Mr. Weasley. Surely you're more clever than that?"

"I don't understand how you think I can help you find Harry," Percy was able to keep his voice steady with surprising ease. Or perhaps not so surprising when one considered that Narcissa was acting the most gracious hostess. Percy was almost able to forget that he was crouched on the floor with two wands pointed at him. "How would I know where Harry is?"

"Oh, such a clever, clever little man," Bellatrix leered. "I can hardly wait to split your skull...see that wonderful brain up close."

"That will do, Bella," Narcissa said smoothly before turning back to Percy. "Of course you know where Potter is, Mr. Weasley. You are, after all, his Secret Keeper."

"Me?" Percy fought down the panic that Bellatrix's insanity brought bubbling to his chest. "Why would I be asked to be Harry's Secret Keeper? I'm not a member of the Order."

"Ah, but our dear Nymphadora is," Narcissa smiled. "So I do forgive me if I trust her word in this matter."

Percy couldn't think of a suitable response, and his silence was apparently all the clarification the women needed. Bellatrix began to laugh triumphantly and Tonks' lips twisted in an unpleasant smirk.

Harry is safe, Percy told himself frantically. So long as they believe you're the Secret Keeper, Harry is safe. By repeating this over and over, Percy was able to maintain the barest veneer of remoteness.

When he didn't reply, Narcissa shook her head, looking amused. "Ladies, I do believe Mr. Weasley is staying silent for fear of giving something away."

Tonks snorted, which earned her a delicately arched eyebrow from her aunt.

"Manners, Nymphadora," Narcissa chided, then turned back to Percy. "Perhaps you were not aware, Mr. Weasley, that the Death Eaters have been working towards a hex that can break the Fidelius Charm."

Percy didn't reply, not trusting his voice.

"Unfortunately, the hex is not terribly refined," Narcissa went on. "In order to dig out the Secret, the Secret Keeper is often completely eviscerated." The silvery-blue eyes narrowed when this elicited no response. "However, we will be happy to see your remains are returned to your family--if they'll take them. Do they still live in that lopsided little hovel called the Burrow?"

Percy's stomach bottomed out and he struggled to remember why he had to keep Harry's Secret.

"You can either tell us where Mr. Potter is at once, which I would suggest, or we can dig it out of you, which I believe Bella would enjoy."

Bella's taunting laughter was barely audible over the roaring in his ears as Percy tried to sort out the best path to choose.

Harry is safe at Hogwarts. Tell them about the Secret and they may release you.

They won't release you, fool. They'll kill you as soon as you've given Harry's location.

They'll need to keep you alive until they've check the location--you may get the chance to escape.

Harry is safe where he is.

"Mr. Weasley, do be sensible about this."

Unbidden, the memory of Harry's lost expression, then Oliver's words of love overwhelmed him, waking a Gryffindor lion that Percy had forgotten existed.

Narcissa noted his change of expression and "tsked" sadly. "Come now, Mr. Weasley. Surely you don't want us tearing through your insides looking for that Secret, do you?"

"No," Percy's lip curled.

"Of course not," Narcissa smiled complacently.

Percy's glare darkened. "But if you want that Secret, you'll have to."

Oliver tore off the cloak. Solstice, who hadn't left his shoulder in time to avoid being trapped under it, fluttered her wings madly to maintain her balance. "Look!" he shoved the parchment into Snape's hand. "Where's the meeting?! I'm going rip out her vile throat with my bare hands."

Snape took the letter as though a seething Auror standing before him was of no consequence. However, once he read the letter, he no longer tried to appear indifferent. "Wildsmith is dead? But Dumbledore sent her on leave purposely."

Oliver had been rummaging over Snape's desk for a blank parchment, but stopped when he heard this. "For how long?"

"Just for the one year," Snape frowned as he reread the letter. "She sent a request in August for another year's leave."

"Obviously it wasn't her choice," Oliver grabbed Snape's quill and started writing.

"Obviously."

"Where's the meeting?" Oliver demanded.

"Surely even she wouldn't be fool enough to still be there," Snape scowled at him in disgust.

"Right." Oliver stopped and closed his eyes tightly, taking slow, deep breaths. When he opened them, he was an Auror again. "Unless there's been more arrests in the past few weeks, there are only three or four prominent Death Eaters still at large. Someone who managed to hang on to their holdings. Perhaps Bode or Mulciber...but no, she's related to Bellatrix Lestrange, isn't she? Lestrange is far too unbalanced to put a plan like this together, though..."

"Bella lost all her property after the first War, both Black and Lestrange holdings. The only close relation with anything left is Narcissa."

"Malfoy?" Oliver began jotting a letter down on the parchment.

"With Lucius and Draco dead, she inherited the entire Malfoy estate. If they're operating as a family, Malfoy Manor is almost the only place available to them as a headquarters."

The quill moved rapidly across the paper as Oliver tried to keep up with Snape. "So that's the most likely place for Tonks to bring Percy?"

Snape considered, then shook his head. "There's an old, rotting gardener's shed on the northeast corner of the land--at least that's what it's been charmed to look like." He nodded slowly as he went on. "If Narcissa is involved, that's more likely where they are. It was well-equipped, being one of Lucius' favorite...er, recreation areas."

Oliver chose to ignore that bit of information for now. "But Narcissa was never actually a Death Eater, was she?"

"No, she was far too clever for that," Snape agreed. "But she's far more dangerous than any of the Death Eaters still at large."

Oliver stopped writing to give Snape a speculative look. "I'll be the MLE would love to get their hands on you."

Snape's lips twisted in a wry smile, "They have tried, on occasion."

Oliver snorted, then signed his letter with a flourish. He tied it to Solstice's leg and glanced around. Snape, noticing Oliver's dilemma, pointed his wand toward a framed map which lifted to reveal a small porthole. Once he'd seen Solstice off, Oliver turned back to see Snape writing again. "Right. Well, I've told the others to meet me at the southwest corner. We can plan from there. I'll be off, then."

"Wait until I get this off to the Headmaster. I'm going with you."

Oliver wasn't certain how to reply to that. "You don't have to--" Snape shot him a deadly look. "Right. Let's go, then."

She raised her eyebrows. "Did you think we were friends, then?"

"Not to me," Percy said impatiently. "To Harry."

"Oh, to Harry," Tonk sneered. "Which Harry would you be speaking of? The Harry who inherited the entire Black fortune? The Harry who is the hero no matter how much work others do? The Harry who takes the advice of bookworms like Hermione Granger over trained Aurors? That Harry?"

Percy adopted an attitude of polite inquisitiveness. "Then is this jealously or merely smallness of character?"

Tonks hissed and drew her wand back as if to cast, only to be stopped by Narcissa's raised hand. "You really must learn to control your tongue as well as your temper, Nymphadora. There is no need for people to know your every thought. Bella," she turned to her sister. "I believe it is time for you to see to Mr. Weasley."

Slowly, Percy began reaching for his wand, but had barely drawn it when an amused "Expelliarmus." sent it flying to Narcissa's waiting hand.

"You naughty boy," Bellatrix shook her head sadly. "We really ought to crucio you for such a pathetic attempt."

"Not until after we've broken the Fidelius, Bella," Narcissa reminded her. "Crucio will only make it more difficult to retrieve the Secret."

"Oh, very well," Bellatrix sounded sulky. "But there won't be much left to play with once we've broken the Fidelius."

Despite his attempted bravado, Percy could feel droplets of sweat running down the sides of his face, his neck and under his collar. The sensation made him shiver, which in turn made Bellatrix laugh.

She moved away from Narcissa's side to stand over Percy. "Care to dance, Mr. Weasley?" she inquired with a poisonous smile.

"Teghan said you believe a Weasley is being held somewhere nearby," Geordie twirled his wand absently as he always did when preparing for battle.

"Percy Weasley," Oliver clarified.

"Percy Weasley?" Cat's eyes widened. "Weren't you supposed to be--"

"Yes," Oliver didn't want her to finish that sentence.

Geordie frowned, "Didn't they take you off--"

"Yes."

"And is that why you went on--" Cat tried again.

"Yes," Oliver snapped impatiently. "He was trying to flush out a spy in the Order--"

"Percy Weasley?!" Alicia gasped.

"How did--"

"Why would--"

Snape's impatient sigh sounded above all the questions.

"Listen up!" Oliver barked, every inch a Striker Captain. The Aurors responded by immediately falling silent. "This is what you need to know. Every sign points to Nymphadora Tonks as a Death Eater spy and part of a group trying to capture Harry Potter." He continued to speak, despite all the exclamations of shock. "We have reason to believe they are trying to get to Harry through Percy Weasley, and have taken him tonight. Tonks is most likely working with her aunts, Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy. What we need is a way through the wards before we plan our attack."

"They're most likely in that stone outbuilding we saw," Blaise offered. When everyone stared at him, he went on, "I remember Draco bragging about it at school."

"Snape also said that was the most likely headquarters," Oliver nodded. "Broderick, I want you and Blaise to go cross-lots and check the wards around it. The rest of us will spread out and check the Manor. The moment anyone finds an opening, signal with the armbands," he took off one of his own and handed it to Snape. "When we've met at the breach, we'll need at least two people to hold the wards open and the rest of us can take it from there, all right?" Oliver looked around as everyone nodded. "Then move out."

Percy was doubled over so far that his forehead touched the floor. As he coughed and retched helplessly, blood spattered onto the pristine marble floor.

Bellatrix watched avidly. "Ready for another round, then, little man?" she asked, even though it was obvious Percy was unable to reply. "Indagior Fidelius," she intoned and a sickly yellowish light jetted from her wand and split into two rays. One band of magic wrapped itself around Percy's neck as the other wormed its way into Percy's mouth and down his throat. "Uncusio celatium ."

Percy braced himself for that horrible feeling of an icy, sharp-fingered hand probing through his innards. He knew it would only be seconds before the cold was replaced by the searing agony of the spell trying again to spill out the Secret it had located. Through his haze of pain, he watched the yellow light surrounding him, waiting for the change to violet that would herald the excruciating feeling of something moving through his insides, tearing through the corporeal in its quest to escape. Although the first attempt hadn't actually broken through, Percy knew it wouldn't be long before something did. Then, to his amazement, the light turned a misty grey and slowly evaporated.

For several minutes, an ominous silence hung over the room, then Bellatrix let out a shriek that would have rivaled a banshee. "Crucio!"

Percy gasped and tried to brace himself, but another scream told him he was not the target.

"Idiot!" Bellatrix screeched at Tonks. "Crucio! Stupid, half-blooded fool!"

"Bellatrix! Stop!" Narcissa stood and drew her own wand.

"His Fidelius charm is false!" Bellatrix stepped over Percy and kicked Tonks' writhing form. "You idiot Mudblood! We've wasted a year on your incompetence! Cruicio!"

"Expelliarmus!" Narcissa caught Bellatrix's wand as it flew out of her hand.

"How dare you!" Bellatrix turned on her sister.

Percy willed himself to move, realizing that this could very well be his only chance to escape. Shame I have no idea where the door is, he thought miserably.

"Stop this at once!" Narcissa ordered, pointing her wand at the madwoman to make her stop. "Bellatrix, I will give you your wand back as long as--I think not, Mr. Weasley," she trained her wand on him when she saw him trying to inch towards the wall. "Here, Bella," she handed her sister's wand back. "I believe we are finished with Mr. Weasley."

Distracted from her niece, Bellatrix gleefully turned her attention back to Percy. "Well, well, there's a bit left to play with after all. Crucio!" She smirked as Percy cried out in agony, then abruptly her expression changed, "Narcissa! The wards!"

"No witnesses, Bella!"

Abandoning the Cruciatus, Bellatrix collected herself to cast the Killing Curse but the wall behind her collapsed under the force of eight Reducto spells and five Aurors burst into the room. Bellatrix, however, had eyes for the only non-Auror present. "Traitor!" she screamed at Snape, abandoning Percy's prone form. "Crucio!"

"Protego!" Snape countered automatically.

"Expelliarmus!" Teghan cast at Bellatrix.

Narcissa disapparated at once, but Cat immediately cast a tracking spell on the spot she last stood.

Oliver waved at Cat, "Follow her!" He and Alicia were crouched beside Percy, checking the damage.

Teghan looked at Tonks, who was still unconcious. "If she's working with them, why has she been Crucio-ed?" Then she ran back to aid Snape in battling Bellatrix, who although unable to cast the Cruciatus or Avada Kedavra, was capable of enough wandless magic to do serious damage.

No one noticed Tonks rousing until a green light streaked towards Percy. Tonks was so weak that Oliver and Alicia were able to block it with a "Protego!" Then it took Geordie and Teghan to dissolve it with "Finite Incantatum." Alicia had barely finished casting the defense spell when she followed it with a "Stupefy!" that knocked Tonks back out.

Oliver was scanning Percy, terrified by the tremendous internal damage he found. "Someone cast me a portkey to St. Mungo's!" he commanded. "And someone else shut that bitch up!"

Apparently Alicia was also thoroughly fed up with Bellatrix's screaming because the "Stupefy!" she added to the others was enough to finally still the screeching witch.

Geordie had taken his cloak off and murmured an incantation over it. "Here's your portkey," he said to Oliver. "I thought it would be easier if I draped it around you."

"Thank you," Oliver said, grateful for such consideration of Percy's condition. "Teghan, you've got it from here?" he asked, even though no one had been officially leading this mission.

"It's under control, Ol. Go."

Oliver held Percy as carefully as possible, then nodded to Geordie. The younger Auror settled the cloak over both of them, Oliver only had a split-second to hope the motion didn't make things too much worse before they landed in the emergency ward at St. Mungo's.

Oliver threw down the copy of Quidditch Monthly that he had been trying to read. Percy had been with the healers in the Counter-Curse Unit for nearly two hours. Since he'd given up on pacing after the first hour, Oliver was now trying to think about anything except Percy's still, blood-spattered face.

The sound of rushing footsteps made Oliver look up in time to see Percy's parents rushing toward him, with their youngest son and Hermione Granger close behind. Oliver stood as Molly gasped out, "Where is he?"

"What happened?" Arthur demanded. "Kingsley heard that Tonks had been arrested."

"Percy was helping to guard Harry?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"How badly was he hurt?" Hermione inquired, her tone a bit calmer than the others'.

Oliver took a deep breath, unable to meet Molly's tear-filled eyes for fear of breaking down himself. Instead, he adopted the most detatched, professional manner that his could. "He's been in the Counter-Curse Unit going on two hours. I haven't heard anything from the healers yet. Yes, Tonks had been arrested. She will definitely charged with attempted murder--Percy--and very likely murder as well--that of Dorcas Wildsmith." Oliver continued over the next barrage of questions. "If you want to know anymore about it, then you'd best ask Dumbledore. It's because of him and your Order that Percy is where he is."

Arthur couldn't miss the hard look Oliver gave him. "I thought he was at Hogwarts because Dumbledore was stuck for a History professor."

Oliver frowned, "And you suggested Percy?"

"I mentioned that Percy had always liked History," Arthur agreed. "And that I didn't think he was very happy with where he'd been placed at the Ministry."

"Nothing about flushing out a spy in the Order?"

"Percy isn't in the Order." Arthur replied, conjuring a clean handkerchief and handing it to Molly.

Rapidly, Oliver outlined what the third Weasley had been doing for the past year. He included Dumbledore's implication that Arthur had put Percy forward as a decoy, but didn't mention that he had fallen in love with their son.

"Harry?" Ron croaked. "He did all this for Harry?"

And me. Oliver didn't reply to Ron's question, but let Percy's actions speak for themselves.

"Why would Albus say that I suggested Percy?" Arthur was staggered by the information. "Whatever's gone between us, I would never put him in danger like that."

One of the knots in Oliver's stomach untied itself when he heard the ring of truth to Arthur's words. "He didn't actually use your name," Oliver admitted. "He just said someone close to the Minister of Magic. Since you're the Deputy Minister, Percy assumed--"

"I'm one of the Deputy Ministers," Arthur shook his head. "Percy knows that. Amos Diggory is the other."

Oliver was saved from thinking of a suitable reply by the healer who walked into the room. Immediately, everyone turned their attention to the pudgy, cheery-faced woman. "I'm Healer Antonia Beaumont. I specialize in counter-curses and I've been placed in charge of care for Percival Weasley. I take it you are his family?"

"We're his parents," Molly had found her voice again. "Please, can we see him? How is he?"

Beaumont smiled reassuringly. "Mr. Weasley will likely make a full recovery. It may take a bit longer than normal, though. In addition to the Cruciatus, he was hit with a curse we had never seen before--recently developed with Dark Magic, from what I can tell. Fortunately, Special Auror Wood was able to give us enough information about the suspected purpose of the unknown curse to make it easier to repair the damage." She nodded approvingly at Oliver. "We are moving him to a private room, and I'll be able to take you to him shortly."

Molly sagged against her husband, who thanked the healer. As Oliver watched her relief, he realized with a sinking feeling that he would probably have to wait until all the family members had seen Percy before he got the chance again. Turning away from Molly and Arthur, Oliver met with a pair of unnerving and intelligent, but compassionate brown eyes. Hermione gave him a small smile before she moved closer to Molly and began whispering in the older woman's ear.

As she listened, Molly's damp eyes grew wide and then fastened on Oliver, who pretended to carefully study the paintings on the wall. Slowly, she began nodding in response to Hermione's words, then she smiled and gave Hermione's arm a squeeze.

Oliver, meanwhile, was doing his best not to meet the eyes of any Weasley, neither Ron's curious ones nor Arthur's with their bewildered anger.

The door opened to admit four more Weasleys, all these of the slightly shorter, stockier build. Oliver immediately recognized them all.

"What's going on with Percy?" Ginny asked.

"Alicia came to the shop to tell us what happened," Fred explained. "We said she must have mixed him up with someone who had a spine."

"Went up one side of us and down the other for that, she did," George added.

Oliver made a mental note to buy Alicia something nice.

"I was at the Burrow when they came to tell Ginny," Charlie said. "I fire-called Bill--he should be here soon."

Healer Beaumont returned, and looked a bit alarmed at the sudden increase in redheads. "Mr. Weasley is rousing, but I would ask that you keep visitors to a minimum. Because we know so little about the curse and any after-effects, we want to keep Mr. Weasley as quiet as calm as possible."

"Three," Molly said firmly. "Myself, my husband and Oliver."

Beaumont looked around at several bewildered faces, Oliver's among them, and nodded her agreement. "Come with me, please."

"Hermione was saying that Susan Bones told her and Ron that you had been guarding Percy at Hogwarts," Molly explained as they followed Beaumont down the corridor. "I thought he would feel more comfortable with you there."

"Thank you, ma'am," Oliver managed.

"Call me Molly, dear."

"I can only stay long enough to set Percy straight on a few things." There was an edge to Arthur's normally mild voice. "I want to have a chat with Albus. I'll likely be back to see him again before I go to work. Merlin only knows what sort of uproar the place will be in."

Beaumont opened the door to Percy's room. "Remember, he needs quiet more than anything else. Do your best not to agitate him."

All three nodded at the healer as they walked past her. At the sight of her son lying so helpless and pale with dark purple bruises circling his eyes, Molly rushed forward, but caught herself after only a few steps. Oliver stayed at the foot of the bed while Arthur and Molly moved to Percy's side. Molly gently smoothed the hair off Percy's forehead, but it was obvious she had to restrain herself from smothering him with hugs and kisses.

Oliver could relate to that.

Percy's eyes fluttered open and he squinted up at the couple leaning over him, at the woman smoothing his hair back from his forehead. Arthur realized the problem and found his glasses on the bed side table. But Percy recognized the touch without sight. "Mum?" his voice was hoarse.

"Here, son," Arthur gently put Percy's glasses on his face.

"Dad?" Percy cleared his throat and tried again. "Dad...Tonks--she's...oh Merlin, I know you won't believe me, but--"

"Ssshh..." Molly laid a gentle hand over Percy's mouth. "Hush, lovey, it's all right."

"We know, son," Arthur settled his hand on Percy's forearm. "We're very proud of you."

Percy gave a tiny choke and began blinking rapidly. "Dad...I wanted--"

"It's all right, Percy," Arthur went on. "Although if I'd known what you were doing I would have tried to talk you out of it. Albus had been talking to me about needing a new History of Magic professor and I mentioned you. I had no idea he wanted you to clean up a mess of the Order's."

"Y-you didn't..?"

"I'm going to have a long chat with Albus about this," Arthur said firmly.

"Oliver told us how you agreed to be Harry's Secret Keeper," Molly continued smoothing Percy's hair. "Of course we understand that, but for Albus to say such things to convince you to catch that spy--" She huffed a bit through her nose. "Well, as your father said, he'll be talking to Albus."

"Oliver?" Percy didn't seem aware of anything else Molly said after Oliver's name.

"I'm here, Percy," Oliver said from the end of the bed. Their eyes met and any remaining unease left Percy's body.

Arthur stared at the contented expression on Percy's face, then looked at the Auror who was smiling softly at his son. Next he met his wife's tearful but knowing eyes and felt a grin tugging at his lips.

"I imagine the rest of the family is wondering how you are. We'll leave Oliver here and he can fill you in on what's happened." Molly hesitated a moment and then kissed Percy lightly on the forehead.

"We'll be back to see you in a little while," Arthur patted his arm gently.

As he watched them leave, Percy reflected that at one time he would have been hurt and slighted by such a brief visit. Instead, he felt grateful and not the least bit bereft, not with Oliver moving close to his side and looking at him intensely.

"I don't know whether to kiss you or shake you."

"A kiss, please," Percy pitifully. "But not too hard."

Oliver chuckled and then obliged, giving Percy several kisses as though to make up for their lightness.

Percy sighed happily. "What happened?" he finally asked when he was done basking in Oliver's touch--at least for a while. "They didn't get to Harry, did they?"

"Not even close," Oliver assured him. "Tonks and Bellatrix were arrested on the scene. Narcissa disapparated, but Cat is tracking her, so I'd wager she'll be brought in by morning."

Percy closed his eyes in relief.

"And don't you ever do anything like that again," Oliver ordered.

"Yes, sir," Percy smiled.

"I mean it, Percy. I'm going to be keeping a very close eye on you," Oliver tried to sound stern.

"Promise?" Percy sounded wistful.

"I do," Oliver followed his words with another kiss. "And I'll have plenty of time to do it. At least until I find another career to suit me."

"What?" Percy looked alarmed. "But you're an Auror...Merlin, they didn't sack you..."

"They didn't sack me," Oliver grinned. "But the MLE prefers their Aurors to be unattached, and I am definitely attached now. What's more, I don't fancy being given assignments that could take me away from you for days or even weeks."

"Oh," Percy tried to look concerned by the upheaval to Oliver's life, but it was difficult to do with happiness bubbling up inside him.

"So I suggest you get used to me guarding that body of yours for a long time."

Percy smiled as he felt Oliver's hand run gently over his torso as emphasis. "I suppose I can do that."

The Daily Prophet, one year later...

Fin