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Chapter Text

Percy Weasley could be confused for one of three brothers as the middle child. He and his brothers, Ron and Bill, all bear a striking resemblance to each other. Each the tallest in their sorting cohort, each with the same Flame-Red shade of hair, each with the same sharp jawline, and analytic and methodical minds behind crystal clear blue eyes, just like their Father, Arthur. While the other four Weasleys; Charlie, Fred, George, and Ginny resemble their mother, Molly. Hair a deeper red-orange, rounder faces, stronger, shorter builds, and eyes the color of honey. Emotional and impulsive, they dominated the Burrow.

Percy followed the rules his whole life, and things had a tendency to work out for him, well in terms of his goals, but not with fitting in with his family. The natural order of things is that the older brother picks on the younger brother, well, unfortunately for Percy, chaos won out.

His “little brother” was actually a set of twins. Telepathic twins, born for the sole purpose of creating complex traps for everyone around them. Percy definitely couldn’t pick on them, yet the responsibility of wrangling the demons was placed squarely on his shoulders.

And thus by the ripe old age of 9, Percy became a stick in the mud, he had to, the harder Fred and George pulled at the leashes, the deeper Percy got set in his ways. This had the added benefit for the Weasleys that the twins dedicated most of their efforts on trying to get one over on Percy. Their attempts rarely succeed and that made them more determined. The detriment for Percy is that any time the twins ventured out and plotted against Molly, Ginny or Ron, it was Percy’s fault.
Percy was going to be Prefect, Head Boy, Department Head and then Minister for Magic, as he told himself constantly and he used his ambition to build up a fortress of Percytude.

Percy became Percy and now that Percy is Percy, there’s nothing anyone can do. He doesn’t know this, but his tendency to keep everything in and never show venerability makes him extremely difficult to deal with sometimes.

Prefect he thought on that Halloween, when he followed orders that led to 3 of his first years to face a troll, including his brother. I was following orders he thought to keep the tears in at his mother’s berating letter.

Head Boy he thought, fearing he'd lost it when he failed to notice anything wrong with Ginny and that damned diary. But no one else did either. The fight over the Big Head Boy badge was just for show. He felt like an imposter his whole seventh year. 

Department Head he thought when Mr. Crouch began acting slightly strangely. But the expert efficiency he performed the increased responsibility with got him noticed.

Minister for Magic was the thought keeping Percy in line, in the summer of 1995.

He had believed Harry, at first, he didn’t believe the Dark Lord gone for one second after Ginny and the Chamber of Secrets. But the following propaganda storm and the constant reassurances from Delores and Cornelius shifted his opinion. It really was easy to do after Percy’s three years of trying to keep Harry and his friends in line, but Percy still believed You-Know-Who was back, but he also knew that the only way, in his current station, that he was going to be able to hold his ground and move forward in his ambition, to not get fired, was to go with the flow and not contradict the Ministry.

Percy tried to explain it to his parents, but his father is head of his department and doesn’t seem to understand how precarious of a perch on which Percy is posted. Regardless of any Dark Lord returning from the dead, a black mark on his file is a black mark. Percy cannot risk being known for insubordination. They took his warnings as betrayal, so far as to accuse him of trying to spy on them for Fudge. If anything Percy had intended to spy the other way around. Fudge was increasingly unpopular, his position is elected, and everyone knows Percy’s ultimate ambition was Minister for Magic.

He was more offended at Molly and Arthur’s response to him, as if they didn’t think he could think for himself. He knew he shouldn’t have said what he said as soon as he said it, but you can’t put it back in the box. The row with the Weasleys outcast Percy and he hadn’t spoken to any of them since the falling out.
Well, until that day that Delores sent the Dementors. He hadn’t known that at the time, he was down in the Improper Use Office when the notice of Harry Potter casting a Patronus in broad daylight in the middle of a muggle street came in. Stone faced, Percy heard “snap wand” from Mafalda while she was writing and he disappeared to the DMLE.
It was Percy who slipped into to Arthurs office to let him know what had happened.
“Percy, why are you here.” Arthur said flatly, with a look of annoyance on his face.
“It’s Harry..” Percy started.
“Not this again Percy, and not here. Cant you—“
“No! It’s not any of that. They’re going to snap his wand. He cast a Patronus. Has anyone taught him how to send messages?” Percy interrupted. Arthur looked haunted
“Dementors! In Surrey?” Arthur concluded.
“It seems so.” Percy said, he’d kept his composure this whole time and Arthur took it as him not caring. Percy knew that, but didn’t care. Well he did care, but couldn’t afford to let a single brick slip.
Arthur sent off a Patronus of his own to Dumbledore and quickly wrote a note to Harry to tell him to stay in the house and not to surrender his wand.
“Thank you, Perce.” Arthur told his son, slightly more warmly than earlier. Percy smiled a little.
“I don’t think it was you-know-who. The Ministry has control over the Dementors.” Percy said, immediately regretting it. Arthur pulled his son into a hug.
Percy left his father’s office, and on his way back to his cubicle he stopped at HR. He put in a transfer request to the open position in Magical Transportation. He spent the rest of his work day drumming his fingers and separating his files. When the orange paper airplane gently landed on his desk he gave a deep sigh of relief and slipped out of the hostile Minister’s office. He realized that he wasn’t going to get minister if he tied himself to this one. Better to work on his department head ambition. Percy gave a big, toothy smile to the guard as he met his father in the atrium. Percy held up the orange note, and Arthur beamed at him and patted him on the shoulder.
“Let me side-along you, Perce.” Arthur asked. Percy narrowed his eyes.
“What kind of broom was I riding when I got the scar on my knee? Percy asked.
“The red Shooting Star 220. And the scar is on your shin.” Arthur raised his eyebrows and smiled.
“What is the purpose of a rubber duck?” Arthur asked.
“For nice!” Percy said, they laughed and popped away.

Arthur and Percy appeared in a grimy, dark street in Muggle London. Percy didn’t ask anything. Arthur handed him a slip of parchment
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve Grimmauld Place, London.

Percy was impressed by the appearance of the building, but disgusted at its appearance. The inside was no better. Arthur’s loathsome and estranged second cousin, Walburga pressed her hands against her portrait’s glass, screaming and hissing. ‘Sounding a lot like Delores’ Percy thought, even before he knew what fate would befall both harpies. The click of shoes on the granite floors followed by the closing of the Portrait’s curtains and a deep sigh announced Sirius Black.
Percy’s eyes blew wide. Sirius sighed again.
“It’s fine, Perce, Sirius is innocent.” Arthur said.
In a very un-Percy-like move, he waved his orange memo and said “Not my Problem. Unless you have any problems with your Floo connection?” He asked
“Er. No…” Sirius said.
“Any haunted brooms, Flying Carpets, or illegal port-keys?”
“Nope.”
“Wonderful, I see nothing wrong here.” Percy declared. Arthur beamed at the malicious compliance. Sirius just dragged his hand down his face. And asked Arthur “Any more of you?”
“Nope this is the last one, my son, Percy.”
“Pleasure” Sirius said. “Got the whole team here. Still waiting on Mad-eye and Remus, they left to pick up Harry, Kingsley, Tonks and Dumbledore are still at the ministry.”
“Thank you, Lord Black, for hosting my family.” Percy said bowing slightly.
“Just Sirius, I was disowned.” Sirius sighed, waving his hand with a horrified look on his face.
“Not according to the Wizengamot files. Your grandfather left the whole lot to you and Harry.” Percy said. Sirius’s mouth fell open.
“What do you mean?” Sirius pressed, taking a step closer to Percy
“He filed a will, and I looked it up. I wanted to see if the seat passed to Malfoy when Arcturus died, but, thank Cerce, it did not. It has you listed as his heir and Harry Potter listed as yours.” Percy told them, in his prefect voice.
Sirius didn’t know what to say, and a good thing too, because the curtains on Walburga’s portrait started shaking again.
“Into the kitchen. Come on.” Sirius said lowly, and the three men quickly made their way.
Percy just realized as he walked into the kitchen that he really was the only Weasley out of the loop. Even Charlie, who normally came up with excuses to remain in Romania, was sipping tea and talking with Bill. His anxiety instantly maxed out when he locked eyes with his mother.
Molly was taking a deep breath, ready to start yelling probably something along the lines of ‘Arthur Septimus Weasley how DARE YOU bring him here’ but was stopped when Percy held up the orange memo again. Molly snatched it from his hands and her anger lessened with every line she read. She said nothing, just grabbed Percy and crushed him in a hug.
Percy told the present Order Members about what he had heard while technically eavesdropping earlier and his decision to change to the Magical Transportation department, it was one of the only departments without any ties to the sitting minister, or any known or suspected Death Eaters working within, and Percy told them as much. The present people all seemed to understand his reasoning, and he could feel that his mother, specifically was sorry. He wasn’t going to hold his breath for the words, Weasleys don’t typically apologize, and there has been exactly zero occurrences recorded of a Prewitt saying ‘sorry’… or really ‘Excuse me’ for that matter.

The screeching of the portrait announced the arrival of Harry, Remus and Mad-eye, Sirius slipped back into the foyer to greet them. Percy could hear the muffled sound of whispered arguing and someone storming up the stairs. Sirius and Remus were slumped over when they returned. Mad-eye looked like he always does. Percy shuddered when he felt the magical eye look through him. Sirius let out another deep sigh as though he predicted the doorbell ringing again 4 seconds later. He stormed off and returned with the last 3 order members.
“Isn’t there anything that can be done about Walburga?”” Percy asked answered by an exasperated sigh by the other 15 people in the kitchen.
“Dark magic sticking charm. We have to find the binding runes, and they could be anywhere in the house. And removing it by force might cause a Ward Collapse.” Bill said by rote as if the 16th time he’s repeated it. Percy gasped at the thought of a Ward Collapse and didn’t press the issue. His sole focus now is Magical Transportation. Maybe then we won’t have a repeat of the Tri-Wizard Cup.

“The DOM has taken Harry’s case” Kinglsey informed the room without preamble upon entering. Tonks trailing behind him, limping in pain.
“What does this mean for Harry?” Molly asked.
“He’s been cleared, Molly. Apparently, an Unspeakable witnessed the Dementors and intercepted the letter from Improper Use.
“Oh. That explains why the boy was so confused.” Moody said.
“The muggles were in a right state.” Remus added.
“And where is Harry?” Dumbledore asked. Sirius let out a pained sigh.
“Stormed off upstairs. Told us he wanted to know what’s going on, we said we couldn’t, he went upstairs.” Sirius said.
“Do you think the DOM would help us with the you-know-what?” Bill asked.
“I’m afraid not —“ Albus was cut off by a shout in the foyer,
“Ginny! Debbie! Picky! Gary! Kreacher!” A deep, commanding voice called, and pop pop pop pop pop sounded like a drumroll. Sirius, Remus and 4 others ran out to see what was going on. Percy popped his head out of the kitchen, he was curious but wasn’t about to run into danger blindly. Percy’s eyes went wide at the sight of Ginny, the Elf decked out in a Victorian style red dress with a fancy hat and parasol and everything. He was taken aback at how clean and bright the foyer was and the sunlight coming down from a glass roof, which he noted as strange, considering it was nearly 8 P.M. He watched on, in confusion, not being able to follow the subject matter of the conversation between the Headmaster, Portraits, the Elves and Harry Potter. Percy and the rest of the Order were ejected into the foyer.

CLACK

Percy’s eyes followed the elder wood wand’s movement to the floor where Professor Dumbledore had stood moments before he faded from existence.
The wand was calling to him and he was approaching it subconsciously. He felt the power in the wand telling him to wait.
By the time Percy could focus on anything but the wand, he looked up and was shocked at a bubble of pure, white magic swirling and sucking in black, inky smoke.
Percy screamed in a not so very manly pitch when the elves said “Tom Marvolo Riddle” and the Dark Lord appeared, trapped in a bubble. Voldemort stretched and sunk like water down a drain and disappeared, along with the light. The portrait sucked the blue box Voldemort was trapped in, into his frame.
‘Damnit Ronald’ Percy thought when his brother pointed to the wand saying something about Dumbledore, but sighed in relief when no one really looked at the wand, just the empty space between him and his mother. He got a pull like ‘Now’s the time’ and he held his hand open and the wand jumped into it. His eyes widened when the wand subtly changed to resemble Percy’s own a little better, and sent warm vibrations down his arm and up and down his spine. Percy shivered as he felt his magical core expand and open.
The Elder Wand flashed information into Percy’s mind, like an introduction of sorts, and when it had finished, Percy could again actually concentrate on what was going on. He followed the others into the dining room and sighed in contented relief at the downfall of Voldemort.

Percy was interrogated by his younger siblings, he had been at odds with their parents, last they knew. Percy explained his distancing from the Minister, and he reasoning for it, how he knew that Voldemort was back, and even though that didn’t matter anymore, there were still, now ex, Death Eaters out there. Percy was ready for them, but first, he was intent on using the most powerful wand in the world to create a perfect magical transportation network.

Chapter Text

Promptly, at five-o’clock each morning, the luminaries embedded in the granite walls all come to life, casting soft daylight on the facilities of the Ministry of Magic. This Monday morning was no exception. 

What’s also no exception is that the lone, tall, red-haired figure in navy blue robes had arrived exactly at 4:59 to witness the the lights come up, the water start in the fountain and the fireplaces flashing behind him as he lead a random formation of early risers to their positions of preventing the wheels of civilization from stopping. 

It wasn’t until the security nodded him through that he had even considered the fact he was carrying a new wand. Percy drafted the registration in his head as he waited for the lift to reach the sixth level. 

As he entered the Department of Magical Transportation, the lights all lifted to greet him. 

First in. He thought as he crossed into the large central office. It was a round room, with desks clustered outside of five doors into the sub-departments. 

He found his desk, and it was his desk, the same desk he had been issued upon first entering the ministry for his internship, it had followed him from office to office. Worn from centuries of use, but only gently so, the desk suits Percy’s style just fine. The light maple wood, sanded smooth to rounded corners, a sunken inkwell with a parchment spool and dispenser. It’s always perfectly stocked and the endless file drawer knows what he wants more often than not. 

The blue glass desk lamp was a nice addition in this move. Percy was wondering where the desk picked it up, it seems to have a mind of it’s own like most old things that have been around wizards too long. 

“The desk chooses the bureaucrat, Mr. Weasley,” he muttered to himself. 

With a wiggle of his fingers, Percy withdrew a length of parchment from the dispenser slot, he slashed his hand to cut off 8-and-a-half inches. He snapped his fingers and his quill appeared in his hand and the cork popped out of the ink bottle, gently landing in its holder. 

With a flourish, Percy dragged ink across the page in a great circle, then he sketched in a runic array of his own devising, inside he drew a smaller circle and levitated ink to it, forming a puddle. 

Percy closed his eyes and imagined the document he would need to bury to duplicate his identity to this new wand. He withdrew the Elder Wand and with a swirl and a flick the ink all jumped off the parchment. It spread out mid air, and clumped into the neat, official looking document, as though machine printed, the transfigured ink layered back down onto the parchment, the surplus ink flowing back into the bottle. 

Percy gently blew on his forgery as he checked it over, all of the enchantments are in the correct place, the parchment is the right size, good. 

He powered a Lumos and pushed it into the document, registering the magical signature of the wand. All of the blanks about the wand filled in and Percy signed it with grace. He could do what every other owner had done and attempted to hide the wand, he was determined to do that as well, but in just in case he ever gets caught out, Percy can’t imagine to break the law in that way. The way he was breaking the law right now was of no importance. 

The parchment authenticated, demonstrating that Percy’s photographic memory was correct, yet again, about the intimate details of a wand registration. It vanished to file itself away, no other witch or wizard any wiser. 

With his bit of fraud out of the way, and no more elicit activities on the horizon, Percy reached out and touched his inbox, he waited patiently for the Ministry’s Enchantments to process his start of day. The magic whirred and with a quiet ding the “IN” on the box lit up green, and only a bright orange, pocket-sized booklet popped in. 

Department of Magical Transportation: 

Operations Manual and Field Guide. 

Percival I. Weasley 

Percy inspected the booklet, approvingly. And he opened it to the first page. 

Welcome, Percy, to the DOT!

This manual is intended to provide to you all of the proprietary information you will need to perform any of the functions executed by the Department. 

Any information within this manual is privileged, and not to be shared with anyone. 

To agree to the secrecy charms imbedded within this manual, <<(            )>> one drop. 

Percy read over the terms which were pretty straight forward, he pricked his finger and pressed it to the mark. When he did, a few more documents appeared in his inbox, and the book absorbed the ink and blood and the book’s pages all revealed their contents to him. The booklet was no thicker than his little notebook he carries with him, but when he was flipping its pages, they seemed to never end. The enchantments were similar to his notebooks fro

m Hogwarts. Percy, of course, has always kept immaculate notes, but he took that a step forward in his third year and recompiled all of his notes into leather bound books, color coded, cross-referenced, and enchanted to expand and self navigate from their Table of Contents. 

He found the table of contents and quickly figured out how to navigate the deceptively immense tome. He played with the books for a few minutes before he scooped his paperwork out of the inbox. He thumbed through the parchments. Three confidentiality agreements and a report for assignment. 

Percy grinned. His eyes skated through the wording of the NDAs - all standard. He signed them without hesitation and levitated them into the Out tray with the brush of his hand. He scanned his assignment, he was put on Floo Network Restoration and was to report there at 7:00, he glanced at his watch, 6:42, and when he looked up he noticed that the desks were beginning to fill and the doors into the sub departments were open.  He made his way into the Floo Department to report to Madame Edgecombe. 

Madame Edgecombe, Henrietta, was a slender witch, only a few inches shorter than Percy. She was a heavy smoker, and appeared to be in her mid 90s. Her white-blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun and covered by a bonnet of acromantula silk, to protect her hair from the stray embers that can be found in the Floo. Percy plundered the piles of ancient files to find out that her granddaughter was a sixth-year Ravenclaw, and her daughter-in-law was a Slytherin in the same year as Dolores Umbridge, the two had been friends since they met on the train at 11 years old. What he didn’t expect to discover was that Madame Edgecombe made no illusion to being pleased with the Minister or his Undersecretary. 

“Cornelius is a fool,” she said while violently stamping out her imported Camel cigarette. “We have breaches in the Network from end-to-end, whole branches of it were taken offline back on Solstice.”

She walked Percy over to The Wall, a magical monitoring device which displays a large map of Great Britain, the Netherlands, Belgium and Northwestern France, the North Sea was labeled Doggerland.

“With 13 O’s on your NEWTs, I suspect you already understand how the Network works,” she said, lighting another cigarette with a green flame on the tip of her thumb. 

“The Magical Network or the Floo Network?” Percy asked. Henrietta nodded her head at the question. 

“Both,” she said. “As you can see here, the Magical Network lay lines are depicted in pink, and the Floo Network Routes are green, damaged lines and nodes are shown in grey.” 

She reached up and tapped London, and the map zoomed into the greater London, the map had a 3D effect that displayed all levels of the city, the Underground tracks drew themselves in in yellow, the streets were outlined in light blue, each building was named and numbered, and the green Floo network Layer branched out from the nodes and covered the map. Percy then noticed that the vast majority of cross-connections were grey, while roughly 100 Floo Points were showing offline. 

“To trace the route, start here,” she pointed at a green cross on the Ministry. “And follow the line to the destination along the shortest path. This is where you come in, you see these active flames, have no connection back, yet are still operational, which means that traffic is being routed along unauthorized lay lines, and out of our control.”

Percy spotted Grimmauld Place, five pink lines intersected on the spot and the green line went from there to King’s Cross, then all the way over to The Leaky Cauldron before coming to Whitehall. He knew that the Fidelius was still in affect, as he could feel the secret clinging to his soul like a little bur, not uncomfortable, but there none the less. Almost as though she could read his mind, Madame Edgecome spoke. 

“The Wall can see through any charm. And any fireplace on all of Britannia can be accessed from here. Your job here, Weasley is to repair the Floo.”

Percy nodded, assuming that he would be able to find the information he needed to do that in his field guide. And he got to work. 

Percy and Henrietta were both in the atrium the day that Dolores was dragged through, and down into the DOM. 

“What a stupid woman,” Henrietta said, shaking her head, and tapping the ash off her cigarette. “No Idea what Violetta saw in her.”

Percy just hummed, because he knew from experience that his boss’s daughter-in-law was a right piece of work as well. 

Percival Ignatius Weasley had been adapting well to the Post-Voldemort world. Senior Undersecretary to the Department Head of the Magical Transportation Department at the Ministry of Magic and made Lead Researcher for the Restoration of the Floo Network.

Most of the higher status accused Death Eaters from the war which ended in 1981 had started acting strangely after the solstice, however immediately after Percy witnessed the permanent defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, those same wizards had quickly reeled back all lobbying efforts to support their blood suprematist agendas, and moved on to philanthropy instead. But to Percy, as long as they aren’t disrupting Magical Transportation and the underlying systems supporting the Magical Network, none of that mattered anymore. 

If Percy is to ascend to Minister of Magic, he will be better served by serving. The vote is democratic, after all. Thank Merlin, because if the Minster election worked like the Muggle Prime Minister, he’d stand no chance, and so Percy rolled up his sleeves, and went whole hog into his work.  

He had been venturing into the Floo Network, using his Ministry Status to slow the twirl of travel so that he could closely inspect the grates from the inside.

The work and the sheer increase of physical activity has been kind to Percy. By the end of his first week in the field, he had formed a constant magical film of grime across his entire body, every inch of which was pulsing in constant pain. As a result, Percy perfected a plethora of propriety spells, modified from cleaning charms and protective enchantments for getting each and every stain out of his skin, clothing and hair, on top of potions to provide better nutrient absorption to help build the new muscles he was discovering every day. No longer is he the lithe, pale, little wisp of a boy he was as Mr. Crouch’s assistant. He’s up 3 stone in muscle, sun kissed and typically covered with small scars and burns from traversing the Floo Network. 

During his travels, he discovered the old Wildsmith Points littering Scotland.  They had once been all over the country before most fireplaces were enchanted properly to use flame travel safely. The ministry has records of all spoken end locations and while most of the Floo Flames which were out of service were accounted for, it seemed like several groups of unknown wizards, using a variety of different methods, had destroyed, hidden or moved an unknown number of Floo Flame Obelisks. 

The Death Eaters, had a habit of moving them into an enclosed location to trap unwitting passersby, while giving them a less trackable escape than a new ministry floo connection. Most of the time, the Dark Wizards were usually doing normal dark wizard things like extortion, poaching, and working as assassins. But as usual, they all assembled together under a Lord as they tend to do and kept the moniker Death Eater, because the marketing vacuum had yet to be filled. 

Percy’s found that since they call them selves “Death Eaters” they give themselves a special license to act like crazy wand wavers. Hopped-up on Potion, they hardly ever allow dialogue, they just start blastin’. 

He was absolutely delighted at the ability of The Elder Wand. It has the power to override any ward placed on what Magic deems to be his rightful domain, the wands just cuts through the sloppy wards like butter, and Percy just dances around their spell-fire and disables them neatly. His record is 4 stunned and 3 bound within 45 seconds. After the aurors take them away, Percy moves the obelisk back to where it belongs. 

Something was strange one mid-October afternoon. He followed the network into a Wildsmith Obelisk which seemed to be placed under some kind of an illegal application of a modified Fidelius charm. 

And thus that is how he ended up covered in soot and spit out of one of the long lost Wildsmith points outside of Feldcroft, just to the east. Percy wiped the heavy sweat from his soot-covered brow with the back of his forearm. 

“Merlin, I’m getting too old for this.” He muttered to his 19-year-old self, as he picked himself up to look around. 

“Revelio” He incanted, sweeping his arms out wide to check for any beings, beasts or baddies around. None showed up, but the buried rune stones shimmered in the wash of the spell. Percy let out a sigh. He likes it when there is an ambush waiting for him, not the paperwork, but the fight itself. He pulled the anchor stone out of the ground with a wordless summoning charm and the modified Fidelius, known as the Occultation Array, dropped with a ghastly sucking-pop sound. As usual. 

What was unusual was the appearance of a catacomb which had not been there before, leading Percy to realize that the place was hidden along with the Wildsmith Point, and even the catacomb itself wasn’t unusual per say, but the amount of dark magic residue billowing out of it was. 

Percy warred with himself, cast another Revelio, debated some more, on whether to bring the Aurors in now or wait until he got a closer look. Nine times out of ten, there really wasn’t anything harmful in these places, even with the abundance of corrupted magic spilling out. He shrugged, he wasn’t ready to lose jurisdiction, just yet and so he brandished his wand, pried open the door with a flick of his wrist, and went in. 

The smell of death threatened to overwhelm Percy upon entry. 

“Frescorum,” he said, twirling his wand in a tight circle and tapping his shoulder, to produce a bubble of fresh air around his head. 

“Lumos!” His wand lit, and as soon as it did the torches in the dark corridor all lit simultaneously. He hummed to himself and shook the light off of his wand and proceeded, haughtily down into the earth. 

The walls were crumbing stone and the floor was pitted dirt. Percy sneered, forgetting that he was already covered head-to-toe with ancient soot, and pressed on. 

When he reached the bottom of the decline, the catacomb opened up into a large chamber with bones littered all around. Percy was atop a balcony overlooking the chamber, straight ahead, an open golden door with runes inscribed and to his right, semi-circular stairs led down to an open stone sarcophagus. Percy moved through the space, scowl in place at all the macabre ‘decor’. He didn’t flinch when swarmed with acromantulae in the next room, wordlessly consuming the roughly fifty of them in fire, not slowing his pace as he passed into the final chamber of the catacomb, where the dark magic residue was pulsing the strongest. 

Percy burst through the doorway, heroically backdropped by fire, accompanied by the screech of the moisture boiling inside the spiders, steam breaking through their exoskeletons. He didn’t notice the wash of magic from the detection ward he passed through.

“What’s happened here??” Percy wondered aloud.

The chamber was covered in soot and littered with the petrified, burnt remains of scores of inferii. Scorch marks from what could only be Fiendfyre coating the deformed, melted ceiling.

Ahead of him was an altar of some kind, coated in ash and debris, also half melted. There used to be a ritual circle of some kind engraved into the floor and the mummified remains of the inactive inferii spiraled out from the center of the room, as though they were consumed all at once by a fire originating in the center. It clearly was not the Fiendfyre that defeated them, or there would hardly be ash. It was clear a battle of some kind took place here, but Percy wasn’t concerned with that. He isn’t an Auror, and he had no obligation to inform them, this room was now strictly under the purview of Transportation, and once he finished with his own investigation, the DMLE can come in and do… what ever it is they do. 

He wasn’t so intrigued by the carnage that failed to notice the vast mural on the left wall, however. Nearly destroyed, but clear in what it was depicting. The lost art and runic structure of creating portals. 

Percy gasped, he immediately withdrew a camera from his pocket and captured several photos. 

He was so engrossed in transcribing the ancient text into his sketchpad that he didn’t hear the triple pop of apparition, over the scratch of his graphite. 

Two old men and a familiar Elf appeared in the chamber directly behind Percy, they stood there, baffled at the sight until the one on the left cleared his throat. 

Percy whipped around, brandishing his graphite stick, as though it was a wand, and let out a higher-pitched scream than the newcomers expected to hear from the tall, sculpted man. (Although there are a couple dozen redheads throughout the UK who would have definitely expected that from their brother, cousin, nephew or son.)

“Wasn’t expecting that. Were you, Seb?” 

“Nope, Rai. You Gin?”

“Ginny never expects anything, Sebbie,” The elf said, flatly. She cocked her head and looked at Percy. “Ginny thinks she is knowing this wizard, but he is looking different than last Ginny had seen.” 

Ginny, Lyra’s prized elf and leader of the Order of Lyra’s Elven Workers was bedecked in a teal dress and hat today, her spotless, white, heeled shoes floating just above the ground and her parasol daintily rested on her shoulder. 

Percy visibly relaxed at the sight of Ginny and the two old men stared in astonishment at that. The man on the left ‘Rai’, apparently, seemed to be about 80, but with streaks of black still running through his wavy pushed back hair. He had a neat, mostly black beard and silver eyes

“Never, in my 120.. or so.. years on this earth, have I ever seen a wizard relax after recognizing Ginny.. I’m Errai Black,” he said, giving a short bow and chuckling. Ginny gave him a glare and swatted him with her parasol. 

“That’s because Percy is being a good, noble wizard, and is having nothing to be hiding from Ginny,” the elf exclaimed. She pointedly looked away from Errai. 

“Anyway — you really shouldn’t be mucking about in a place like this. You must be Percy Weasley, then? I’m Sebastian Sallow, and we,” he gestured between him and the other two “have gone to great lengths to make sure of it staying hidden.” Percy looked shocked momentarily at the wizard recognizing him. 

“What brought you here, and why did you disable the charm?” Errai asked him. Percy straightened up. 

“I am Lead Researcher at the DOT, we’re repairing and restoring the Floo Network,” he told them “It hasn’t been done since 1412 and,” Percy paused for wording, “much of it is in a state of disrepair. A miracle the thing works at all, really.”  

“And you be finding the floo flame and got sucked into this evil?” Ginny asked, disgusted. 

“Not at all,” Sebastian answered for him, arms crossed and a wide grin on his face. “Young Percy, here had fixed the flame, removed the charm and, hoping to find some Death Eaters, come down here, hadn’t he?” he said, Percy blushed. 

“Well, I’ve been running into them a lot—“ Percy gasped “—you aren’t Death Eaters, are you?” He flicked his wand into his hand, and the men bursted out laughing. 

“Well then, what happened here?” Percy said to answer their hysterics. 

The men glanced at each other, Sebastian shrugged and Errai started. 

“Well, you see, a long, long time ago, my best mate, Seb, here, saved me from a madman slinging Fiendfyre.” Errai said. 

“But, my best mate, Rai, here, saved me from inferii, first.” Sebastian added. 

“But Anne and Ominis saved both our arses, in the end.” Errai said. 

“Alice and Oliver.” Sebastian corrected. Errai rolled his eyes. 

Percy nodded and put the pieces together. Clearly these two were up to something when they were young and one of them had to kill someone who was after them for it and they covered for each other. 

He cleared his throat. 

“Right, so does any of that have to do with this mural, or affect the Magical Network negatively today?” Percy asked. 

“It does not,” he replied. 

Percy’s malicious compliance surged up again. “Great, would you be willing to siphon this off to help with my project?” He asked. 

  “We were waiting for the dark magic to finish absorbing at first, but it doesn’t seem to be receding. Truthfully, I calculated it should have all been gone by now.” Errai explained. Percy let our a deep, put upon sigh and rubbed his eyes, under his glasses.

“Dark Magic will not convert to Wild Magic when held under a Fidelius, Mr. Black,” he said, chidingly. Ginny threw her hands up and let out a frustrated grunt. 

“That’s what Ginny is being telling them! But, Mistress said for Ginny to leave it be, so Ginny’s hands is being tied.” She crossed her arms to add to the effect. 

“So, then, Mr. Weasley, what would you have us do to reintegrate the magics here?” Errai asked him. Percy flipped his notepad to the next clean page and started writing arithmantic arrays, he glanced at his watch, nodded and continued writing. 

“We can place a sink here,” he pointed at the center of the room, “and with seven, no, thirteen dowsing rods, and some runic arrays, the magic can be converted and channeled directly into the Magical Network,” said Percy, who tore the sheet out and handed it to Sebastian, who was closer. Sebastian looked it over, hummed, and passed it to Errai. 

Errai looked at the paper, then the room, then the paper again and let out an embarrassed chuckle. Ginny, floating over his shoulder read the paper and resolved to not say anything. 

“You guys actually forgot about this cavern, hadn’t you.” Percy said flatly. 

“Ginny not being forgetting about nasty place.” 

“Well… We just sealed the place and… never came back.” Sebastian answered. 

“No worries! We can drain this place on Samhain. I have it on good authority that there’s to be a big celebration up at Hogwarts this year, should masque us from the Ministry.” Percy informed, but both men looked as though they already knew that. 

“What do we need to make the rods?” Sebastian asked. “And I’ll bet you 2 galleons that Rai has it in is pockets.” 

“Deal.” Percy replied. He dropped the 2 galleons on the ground, as is custom, and then listed the materials. “Moonstone, Phoenix Feather, and Unicorn Hair.” 

Errai pulled out 13 of each. 

“Accio,” Sebastian said and dropped the gold into his pocket while laughing at Percy’s incredulous look. 

“Need any other parts or material?” Errai asked, with a smile. 

“No, we will twist the feather and hair together then wrap it around the moonstones.” 

They made quick work of the crafting and placed the stones in the place indicated by Percy’s calculations. Percy and Sebastian carved the runes into the stone floor, then with a snap of their fingers, Errai and Ginny transfigured the whole floor into a single smooth granite floor, with a small dimple right in the center of the room, for the lynchpin. 

“I’ll bring the cast iron rod. My father collects muggle junk and calls them ‘spud bars’, he has 20,” said Percy. 

 The men laughed at the purebloodedness of that particular sentence. Errai coughed a bit and said, “I trust you’ve taken all the pictures you need, correct?”

“I have.” 

“Great let’s get out of here!” Sebastian said. With three cracks and a pop, they apparated back to the Wildsmith Point at the entrance. When they landed, Errai was looking at the middle distance with his hand out, he twitched his fingers in a rotating motion, flipping the occultation rune stones, buried in the ground, back to rights. 

“Revelio” Percy incanted to see what he was doing. 

Sebastian saw the question coming and said, “Not now, Perce. We’ll tell you on Halloween. Right, now you stand there.” He pointed to the other side of the Floo Flame, Percy smoothly moved into position, followed by Ginny.

Errai was on his knees now, both hands on his heart, back to Sebastian. Sebastian raised his wand, swirled it in a tight overhead circle, dragged it down in a zig-zag, then made the largest circle he could from the bottom and shouted.

“OCCULTUM FIDELIO!” A bright white light struck Errai in the back. His arms spread out and he jerked back apparently in pain enough to bring him to his feet. His eyes glowed white as he turned back toward the others and he whispered to Sebastian. 

Percy jumped back as the entire hill the catacomb was in simply disappeared, with the two old men.  Percy forgot all about them within the three seconds before they appeared back into view. He looked at the men, then the elf, then the Wildsmith Point, then back at Errai and Sebastian. Errai chuckled. 

“Percy, did you know there’s a catacomb in the hill by the Floo Flame to the east of Feldcroft?” Percy shook his head. Collapsing the charm is way less disorienting than witnessing it erected, and then being keyed in.

“No, I—“ He started, but the grass in front of him started bulging up out of the ground. He looked at it suspiciously and thought about what the man had said to him again. All at once, the hill popped up out of the ground, thick stone columns and a huge lintel pushed out of it, and two heavy iron doors grew into the opening. 

All of the memories Percy had while in this place flooded back to him. 

“Oh, that. Right.” He sputtered. “Spud bar. Halloween.”

_______

Chapter Text

When Percy arrived home he noticed his fireplace had a nice hot low fire going, and so, as not to disturb it, he crawled out of the top of the fireplace and up the wall, like a “the grudge”, startling his flat mates, and causing Granny Cedrella’s portrait to cackle. The other two men, shirtless and exchanging tender kisses on his arrival jumped apart. Whether it was from them realizing Granny was watching or from Percy entering, he never asked. 

When things hadn’t worked out with Penny back in school, he and Oliver had engaged in a 6 month long shag-a-thon, only to dissolve back into their amicable state just before Marcus came back, begging Oli for a second chance, the day they signed the lease.

It really didn’t bother Percy, sure Oliver was fun, hot, and kind, with thighs that should be a felony, and a butthole tighter than a gringotts vault but it was just a physical thing. It wasn’t going anywhere and they both knew it, they were better off remaining friends. 

They hadn’t even combined bedrooms, and Percy knew that Marcus was the one that got away, and was relieved that they were being monogamous gays and not trying to make him the middle… which is… very nice, on occasion,  but not sustainable. 

Percy dropped from the ceiling and brushed himself off. 

“Weren’t you two supposed to be off training or something?” He asked, casually.

“Merlin’s Cock, Perce, it’s half 2 in the morning, we thought you’d finally took one of your suitors up,” Oliver said, grabbing his frilly night robe and tossing it over himself.  

“Pshhh, I was only working late,” Percy replied, sauntering over to the kitchen area. “You know how Fridays can be, always something popping up last minute.”  

Percy got the tea things down and began heating some water, Oliver and Marcus, who was still shamelessly half-mast in nothing but the magical equivalent to bicycle shorts and a pair of socks, joined him, perching on the bar stools.

“Anything interesting?” Marcus asked, reaching for the honey. 

“Top secret ministry business, you know, but yes, actually, found some old hidey-hole, lots of dark magic.” Percy replied, blowing the steam off his tea, then smirked.  Oliver took a minute to check over Percy, Marcus, hiding that he was equally concerned asked, “find you any practice dummies?” 

Percy laughed. “No, I wish. Just some acromantula, two old wizards and that elf I told you about. 

“Ginny!?” They both asked simultaneously.

“Shhh. Yes, her.” Percy swatted the air around them as if to waft the name away.

“You fought her?,” asked Oliver. Percy leaned forward and tapped him in the forehead with the back of his spoon. 

“Of course, not! Just the spiders. I did find a new lead on my research, however.” 

“The portal thing?”asked Marcus, coming to attention. 

Marcus and Oliver knew that the only working set of Portals remaining were the ones that connected Salem with Kyoto, Having had to take it to get to the 1987 Quidditch World Cup Final inside Mount Fuji. No one knew how they worked anymore, and international Portkey travel blows; they’d been invested in the idea since Percy started talking about it after he’d gone to Egypt with his family that one time. 

Percy held his finger and thumb a hair’s breadth apart, “I’m this close,” he said. “I will try for a prototype after Halloween.” 

“Why Halloween,” Oliver asked. 

“That’s the top secret part,” Percy said, then leaned in close, “We’re going to flush the dark magic into the Network, which should allow me to consolidate Floo Paths and open up a channel to start testing the Portals.”

“Can I help?,” both men eagerly asked. Percy chuckled and produced two cards, made of glass and hanging from lanyards that said VENDOR across the bottom. Oliver’s face was winking and Marcus was mean-mugging. He passed the IDs to them.

“Here you are, I thought you’d ask,” he said. He waved his wand and sent his cup, spoon, and saucer to clean themselves. “Now if you lads don’t mind, I’m going to bed. Don’t forget your silencing charms again.” 

Oliver and Marcus locked eyes behind Percy’s receding back and moved closer. 

“Alright, Perce, but what do you want with it?” Arthur said the following Sunday at The Burrow, with his body protectively placed between his collection and his middle son. Percy wanted to chuckle, but that is not a crack in the Fortress of Percytude, so he fondly rolled his eyes, instead.

“I need an iron rod, forged and cast by hand for a project for work, and I hadn’t the slightest idea on how to go about getting one, until I remembered your collection,” he said. 

“Now, Perce, you know I’m not supposed to let you misuse a muggle artifact…” 

“I definitely will not be misusing it,” Percy lied. He’ll be misusing the fuck out of it. His dad winked, knowingly. 

“Well then, I suppose that I can part with one.”

“The rusty one will do,” 

“…but that’s my favorite..” Arthur whimpered. “No, I think you can use this one, it’s the newest and so it hasn’t had the chance to…ahem… pick up any magic or anything.” Waved hand 

Percy beamed/ 

“Thanks, Dad!” 

Arthur patted Percy’s shoulder,
“Of course, son,” he said. “Now, Percival…” he peered up over his glasses. 

“I know!” Percy zipped his lip “she won’t hear so much as a rumor.” 

Arthur beamed. 

Percy thanked his dad and took a step back, and instead of appareling, he threw down a handful of floo powder and disappeared in green flames. 

Arthur laughed, shaking his head. When Percy starts doing a new thing he commits to it hard. Getting rid of that fez had been an… endeavor… for the whole family. 

He turned back to his new project, a VW Rabbit, that someone had pulled out of a hat at a muggle child’s birthday party. The VW wasn’t technically enchanted, it was the hat, you see, and so after the Obliviators worked their magic, it was no trouble at all to just… pocket it. 

Henrietta, face under lit by the green fire on her thumb, making her look menacing, peered up at Percy over her Camel, eyes narrowed, smoke billowing from her nostrils. 

She had needed the cigarette when he started explaining the project and his findings to her. 

I shouldn’t have asked, she thought, but there was really no way she would have know the rapidity at which Percy would throw himself under the Knight Bus when she’d simply asked about the six-foot-long iron bar he’d come walking in with on his shoulder. 

“…and you want to.. drain it into MY network?”

“I’ve the Maths right here, madame,” Percy assured her. She hissed at the title, but had given him no leave to call her anything else, and so she snatched up the papers. 

Henrietta’s eyes narrowed, then widened as she’d read, and they kept widening. 

She pulled out her Traffic-cone colored field guide handbook and flipped through the pages, she looked back and forth between the field guide and the notes. 

Mouth agape, cigarette hanging by virtue of the filter being stuck to her lip, she looked at Percy, looked down again, then back.

He blushed. 

“I’m in,” She said. Percy smiled. 

The ritual was expected to take many hours, during which, the entire floo network had to be taken offline. 

In every floo connected fireplace across the vast network covering all of the UK, and then some, a message, in the voice of Ignatia Wildsmith, was thrice sounded.

“This is a public service announcement from the Ministry of Magic. The Department of Transportation will be conducting service improvements for the Floo Network, and access will be unavailable from sunset to sunrise this Tuesday, 31 October.” Ginny the Free Elf, Five Wizards and Henrietta Edgecombe had gathered at the job site just prior to sunset on Halloween. 

“OH! Henrietta!” Sebastian exclaimed as he floated toward her in a manner that Percy thought Dumbledore would have seen as evil. He took her hand and kissed it. 

“Sebastian,” She replied flatly, then wrenched his hand around and kissed it back. 

Errai and Ginny both found this funny, while Marcus and Oliver appeared as though they hadn’t ever considered old people as people before. 

Everyone was introduced and the ritual began. 

It was extremely clinical and well thought out, Percy was able to guide the magic, exactly as the paperwork suggested he would. 

The swirling magic flushed into the iron bar, as expected and the wider metaphysical reality rippled as a result, as expected. 

The seven beings magicking the chamber continued on in their roles, gently encouraging the magic to swirl and refresh as the eddies came toward them, Like a game of low-stakes tetherball. 

After the air and magic was all caught up in the whirlpool, it began increasing in speed on its own, and the casters were then able to step back and watch. 

The magic swirled faster and faster and grew visibly dark at the Spud Bar, with the dark spot growing and densifying steadily. 

Oliver looked to the others for his cue on how to react to the sight, but no one looked anything but satisfied at the occurrence. 

It was all very…. Official. Oliver smiled at the Percyness of it, and momentarily and absently thought that it would be nice for his best mate to find someone. 

CRACK!

The sound tore through spacetime, echoing and unearthly, all of the dark magic sank into an unseen dimension, all at once. The Magical Network Monitoring Charms were making frantic noises, but Percy still seemingly unbothered, mostly. He had a lock of his curly hair that had broken free from its Sleek Easy Prison, his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, and his wand was up, but otherwise he looked unfazed. 

At the very moment Oliver turned back to look at the ritual, it flashed a bright blue light, and all of the visible magic in the chamber finished draining into the iron rod. 

It glowed red and then with another other-world cracking sound, a cloaked man stepped out of it. 

He had brilliant blue eyes, windswept black hair, and the most confused look on his face Oliver had ever seen. 

The man appeared to be his, Marcus and Percy’s age, but there was something strange about him. 

He took one more step away from the spud bar, which had collapsed into iron dust, and he tripped and fell face first into the smooth granite floor. 

Almost. 

Percy had caught him with a spell and righted him. 

“Where am I?” The man said. “Why is everything so heavy?”

“Who are you?” Percy asked simultaneously. 

With a bright smile and twinkling eyes, “I’m Tom,” he said. “Tom… Dailey.” He turned the twinkle onto Percy and both their breaths caught. Percy looked away, blushing. 

Oliver and Marcus caught it and sent each other mischievous looks.
Errai stepped forward and spoke the Fidelius secret, as he’d done for the others. Toms eyes crossed, and he swooned a bit, then looked around, returning to eye contact with Percy. 

“This is a right creepy catacomb,” he said casually. 

“Thank you,” said Sebastian. 

Ginny narrowed her eyes at the new wizard. She could feel that he was definitely the wizard they’d trapped in the box, only different. His clothes were made of fuzzy stuff that can’t be found on this nor the  next upper 4 realms, but the spiciness of Voldemort wasn’t present. She elected to say nothing and watch this wizard very closely. 

(Flash forward to summer) 

It would be weeks before she would trust him, and months before Percy found out why. 

Ginevra looked at the man who walked in with her brother. She shrieked and drew her wand. 

“Get away from him, Percy!” She yelled, her wand tip glowing. 

He stepped in front of Tom. 

Tom sighed and pushed Percy out of the way. 

“Go ahead, then, Ginny. 

“It’s Ginevra.” 

“Ok Ginevra, Curse me-“

“Do you know each other?” 

It was then that Harry fell out of the floo, he looked up at what was going on and his embarrassed smile fell, instantly. He drew his wand. 

Percy Sighed. 

“Get away from him, Tom!” Harry yelled. 

“What the merlin is going on!?” Percy said. He followed it with a wordless area-effect Expelliarmus. Justin fell out of the Floo next, and like the other two, he pulled his wand. 

“YOU!” 

George let out a nervous chuckle. 

“What did your new boyfriend do to them?”

“BOYFRIEND!?” Ginny, Harry, and Justin said. 

“How do you know him, Justin?” 

Justin waved a hand, “The dreams second year.” 

“While you were petrified?” Hermione spoke up. “I hadn’t dreamt anything..” She said pulling out a notebook and a pencil to take notes. 

Justin made an interested face “Really?” he asked. 

“ENOUGH!” Percy said. 

“How do you know Tom?”

“That’s Voldemort!” Ginny and Harry yelled. 

“Impossible, we killed him last summer.” 

“We?” It was Ron asking. 

“Alright, Ginny and the others got rid of him.” 

POP 

“Percy is calling Ginny?” She said, smoothly. 

“Sorry, Ginny. They’re telling me this is Voldemort.”

“Oh,” said ginny. Everyone stopped and turned to her. 

“Oh?” 

“Well, Mister Tom is not Being Voldemorty, but Voldemort was being Tom.” 

“You tried to hide it!?” Ginevra screeched, as though attempting to win Witch Weekly’s Mrs. Weasley award.

“It just hasn’t come up.” Tom said. “We’ve been otherwise… occupied.” 

Ginevra hurled herself at him, claws first, only to be aerially intercepted by Fred. 

“Now, now, baby sister, hear them out first.”

“HEAR THEM OUT!,” Ginevra screeched, “That smarmy bastard tried to EAT my soul! I’ll kill him!”   

“She’s right,” Harry said, with Ron’s “He’s right.” 

Harry made a face. Ron raised his eyebrows.

“And he tried to dissolve me with Basilisk Venom!” Tom pointed at Harry 

“Not.. Helping,” George mouthed at him. 

“No George, Seriously, I was the one trapped in the book! It’s not like I knew that I had been mentally double-crossed by a figment of my own imagination! It wasn’t me that enchanted the diary to suck souls, I was just one of the souls it sucked!” 

<<uproar>>

“Listen!” Percy exclaimed over the ruckus. “I don’t really care where he came from. We accidentally brought him here, Pandora and Cedric both vouched for him and…” he trailed off, blushing. 

Tom couldn’t keep the goofy grin off his face. 

“And…” He pressed. Percy closed his eyes. 

“And I love him, OK!” 

Apparently Molly had finally heard judging by the crashing of plates from the closed Kitchen door, which caused all the Weasleys, Tom, Hermione, Harry, Justin and Draco to freeze.

-_______________-