Author's Note: I got the idea for this scene while writing Hand-Me-Down Rat. I have Ron tell Percy that Scabbers is dead and wondered what was running through Percy's mind the night notorious mass murderer, Sirius Black, attacks his baby brother. So, this takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters and setting belong to JK Rowling.

After the Ravenclaw Match

It was hard to believe that only a few hours ago the whole Gryffindor common room had been in uproarious celebration after their Quidditch victory over Ravenclaw. Harry Potter, their star Seeker, had been laughing with his friends as a couple of third-year girls twirled on the makeshift dance floor. Fred and George had smuggled in enough butterbeer for the entire House. If that wasn't enough, there was a bit of firewhisky for a select few. After a number of reminders from Oliver Wood to 'not be a prat', Head Boy Percy had turned a blind eye as most of the seventh years drank themselves silly. Meanwhile, the twins and their friend Lee were busy chatting up the entire female population. Professor McGonagall herself had had to shut the party down.

Now, in the wee hours of the morning, every Gryffindor was in the common room once more and the only noise that could be heard was the rustle of trash as Percy Weasley cleaned up.

Oliver Wood, the man of the hour only a short time ago, sat on the end of the sofa nearest the fire. Little Katie Bell leaned against him and he had his arm around her shoulders. The other two Chasers were huddled on the floor at their feet with Lee Jordan, who was quiet for once. Fred and George were seated across the room, on either side of their baby brother Ron. Harry Potter, the Granger girl and Ginny Weasley were also pressed in close to the gangly, ginger boy.

Pressing his hand to his mouth, Oliver looked over his shoulder to survey the lad. He doubted that Ron would care to hear it, but he reminded Oliver of Percy at 13: all elbows, knees and freckles. Oliver knew Percy's older brothers pretty well as they were friends with his own brothers, and he had the misfortune of knowing the blasted twins all too well, but Oliver had to confess, he hadn't bothered to get to know Percy's younger siblings that well. Oliver's impression of Ron was that he was loyal and stalwart, but maybe a bit dim. At least for a Weasley, who were generally brilliant.

Perhaps Oliver should add 'brave' to that list. After all, a mass murderer had just broken into the third-year boys' dormitory and tried to kill the little ginger in his sleep, yet Ron was sitting in the common room. Granted, he was pale and a bit peaky, but Oliver thought if he'd been in that position, he would have needed a gallon of Calming Draught and a week in the Hospital Wing to recover from the fright.

Turning away from Ron, Oliver looked around for Percy. The older Weasley brother was busy picking up the debris left from the party. The Head Boy badge was pinned to his dressing gown and he would have looked perfectly composed, if it weren't for the way he kept pushing his glasses up every few moments and stuffed the trash into the bin with more force than necessary.

Katie shifted so that her head was nuzzled against Oliver's chest. He took a breath and held it, snapping his eyes shut. It was taking all of his considerable will power not to bury his nose in her hair. For what felt like the five thousandth time since October, Oliver reminded himself that Katie was just a kid and his Chaser and, therefore, off limits.

Reluctantly, Oliver shifted out from under Katie. Her blue eyes turned up to his face questioningly.

"I-I'm just going to stretch a bit, Bell," he grunted and stood up.

Oliver watched as Katie settled down in his spot, her head propped on the armrest. It was tempting to sit down again; to let her put her head in his lap so he could play with her hair. He told himself that he just wanted to reassure himself that Katie was safe and whole, but he couldn't help but notice that he didn't have the same urge to play with Alicia or Angelina's hair. As much as he wanted to believe otherwise, his feelings for his 15-year-old Chaser were not brotherly.

Looking at Ron Weasley again, Oliver hoped that seeing the pale face of the third-year who had nearly bit it hardly an hour ago would cool his lust for a certain fourth-year. Oliver's eyes traveled from the youngest Weasley brother to the twins sitting beside him. Fred and George were quiet, and they wore matching looks of concern. That did snap Oliver out of his Katie-induced haze. The twins were never quiet, nor were they ever serious, but it was quite clear that they were taking the attack on Ron to heart.

Turning again, Oliver spotted Percy cramming parchment into the bin. He should be with his brothers and sister, but of course he wasn't. Oliver ambled over to his best mate, took out his wand and vanished the rubbish that Percy was leaning down to pick up. Standing up, Percy pushed his glasses up, and the two young men stood regarding one another for a moment.

"Why are you doing it by hand?" Oliver asked.

"Somebody needs to clean up," Percy responded.

"But why are you doing it by hand? A swish of you wand and this place will be tidier than it started out."

To demonstrate, Oliver brandished his wand again and cast a few silent spells. Rubbish flew across the room and into the bin that Percy was holding, making the sleepy Gryffindors jump in surprise. A broom sprung to life and began sweeping the floor and a feather duster flew from the cupboard and began cleaning the mantle over the fireplace.

"I could do the windows if you like." Oliver crossed his arms over his chest, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Percy frowned. "Your competency at household spells does make me wonder why our dorm is such a pig sty."

"I'm not the only one who lives there, mate, talk to Fitz and Beckly."

"Hmph, it is your Quidditch gear that gives the room its charming aroma."

Oliver contained the urge to roll his eyes. "Why are you needling me about my cleaning habits, Mum?"

Looking around the common room, Percy's eyes fell on his brothers and sister, and he blew out a breath. He carefully averted his eyes, his shoulders hunched. It was moments like this when Oliver didn't know if he wanted to cuff Percy upside the head or strangle the twins (to be fair, he wanted to strangle the twins on a fair number of occasions that had nothing whatsoever to do with Percy). The lot of them should be together as a family, but the perpetual stalemate Percy had with the twins stood in the way as usual.

It had been different with Bill and Charlie were at Hogwarts. When the two older boys had been at school, they liked to take the piss out of Percy, but there was a playfulness about it. Percy idolized his elder brothers, who had cast long shadows. Shadows that Percy still stood in even though Bill and Charlie were not only long gone from Hogwarts, but from Britain.

With Bill and Charlie gone, that left Percy as the eldest brother still at home. A role he was a bit too keen on, if anybody bothered to ask Oliver. For Percy, being eldest was like being named prefect or Head Boy: they were jobs he had wanted his whole life, but they were also positions already filled by Bill or Charlie. Unfortunately, where Bill was unflappable and Charlie was cool, Percy was too eager to please those above him, too quick to enforce the rules, too straight-laced for his own good.

Percy the Prat is what all of their classmates saw. It's what the other prefects saw. Most importantly, it's what the twins saw, and they never let Percy live it down. If Percy was a stickler for the rules, then the twins were anarchy personified. Those ginger bastards lived to oppose all forms of authority (including Oliver's as Quidditch Captain). Oliver didn't need to be as brilliant as Percy to see that the twins' future lay somewhere outside the traditional paths of respectable young wizards. Percy, on the other hand, had already applied for five positions within the Ministry of Magic. A set of brothers could not be more different than Percy, Fred and George. After all, Oliver knew something about brothers; besides his older brothers, Dougal and Fergus, he had another little one at home, too.

That was why it drove Oliver so mad that Percy separated himself from his family. Not that Oliver didn't understand it. The twins were like the Bludgers that they defended against in Quidditch: blunt objects of destruction. And like that match back in fifth year when the Bludger was charmed to target Harry Potter, the twins had a favorite target, too. As for Perce? Instead of battling back, he pulled away because he had learned that standing up to the twins only made them worse.

Sure, the three of them descended into snarky squabbles over mundane things. The twins complained that Percy had a stick up his arse. Percy nagged the twins to set a good example for their younger siblings. When it mattered, though, Percy pulled away. He never let them see that, despite all the stuffiness, he truly cared for his family. Because Percy wasn't a prat, not really. He just had trouble showing it.

The only thing that Oliver could figure was that Percy just couldn't stand to be hurt anymore. And that, in Oliver's opinion, was the real problem: Percy wasn't able to let go of the teasing or the snide remarks. It hurt him when the twins made fun of him, and the twins either didn't see it or they didn't care. If Oliver had to guess, it was the former. Fred and George were not uncaring blokes, but they could be rather single-minded.

With a sigh, Percy leaned against the wall. He lifted his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. "I told him it was just a nightmare."

"What?" Oliver asked.

"Ron. When I first came downstairs, he came right to me to tell me about Sirius Black and I told him he'd ate too much food. What kind of brother am I?"

"He went to you, Perce, that says something right there."

Percy re-adjusted his glasses. "And I let him down, didn't I?"

"McGonagall didn't believe him at first either," Oliver reminded Percy.

"She's not his brother, is she?" Percy burst out with a wild hand gesture in the direction of Ron and the twins.

Oliver tried to suppress a grin, but ended up laughing anyway. "Well, no, she isn't Ron's brother."

"Shut it, prat," Percy muttered, giving Oliver a shove.

"You can't beat yourself up over this one, why would you believe Black had tried to attack your brother in his sleep?"

Percy's gaze slid across the room again. "I don't know, maybe it isn't that hard to believe after all."

Oliver's eyes followed Percy's to where the other Weasley siblings were huddled together with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

"What are you getting at?" Oliver asked.

"I don't know," Percy said, pushing his glasses up. "It's just…"

"Get on with it already."

Percy shot Oliver an irritated look. "Well, I mean, a lot of strange things have happened at Hogwarts over the last few years, hasn't it? And it all…"

Looking across the room, his words trailed off. Oliver realized that his best mate wasn't looking at his brothers, but at Harry Potter, Ron's best mate and the supposed target of a mass murderer. The same mass murderer that had attacked Ron Weasley in his bed a short time ago.

"Percy, you can't be serious," Oliver snapped, his brows lowering over his eyes.

Percy turned bright red.

"Harry is a good kid."

"I know that!" Percy burst out. A few Gryffindors looked over at Percy's exclamation and the ginger went ever redder. When he spoke again, it was in a near whisper, "I know that. He's been in my home and I like him, but…"

"But what?" Oliver demanded. He crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth set in a firm, disapproving line.

Percy shut his eyes. "Well, look at their first year. Harry, Ron and Hermione were mixed up in whatever happened in the third floor corridor that landed the three of them in the Hospital Wing—"

"And earned Gryffindor the House Cup which you were mighty proud of, Percy the Prefect."

"Yes, yes, of course, it all seemed a great and mysterious adventure. Then there was the thing with the flying car at the beginning of term last year that nearly lost Dad his job." Percy swallowed roughly before continuing. "And all that awful stuff with the Chamber of Secrets."

"That had nothing to do with Potter," Oliver reminded Percy. "It's not like the kid asked for all this to happen to him. He's humble and kind and actually a bit shy."

"I know, I know." Percy's words were strained with emotion, and he looked a bit pale, then he whispered, "But Ginny nearly died…"

"Potter saved her."

Anger flashed in Percy's eyes when he looked at Oliver. "And I am grateful, but Ron was nearly murdered tonight, too. And why? Because he shares a dorm with Harry Potter."

"He's just a kid, Percy," Oliver bit off. He motioned sharply in the direction of Harry Potter, still sitting innocently with this friends. "He didn't ask to be targeted by You-Know-Who when he was a wee baby, and he didn't set out to be an enemy to old Death Eaters with a grudge. Think about the first Quidditch match against Hufflepuff when the Dementors attacked him. He nearly died. He nearly died after that thing in first year, too."

"I know all of that," Percy hissed, his mouth and chin set firmly. "But I've nearly lost both Ron and Ginny now, and somehow or another Potter is always mixed up in it. I feel for the boy, I do, he's lost his parents and I'm pretty sure his aunt and uncle mistreat him…" Percy was looking over at his knot of siblings again, then he whispered, "I just don't want to lose any of them, you know, and it's already been two close calls. How many is any one family afforded? Even one as large as mine?"

While Percy looked at his feet, Oliver looked at the other Weasleys. If there were two things that characterized the family it was loyalty and a strong sense of right and wrong. There was just no chance that Percy would ever dissuade Ron from being Harry Potter's friend, come hell or high water. Still, Oliver felt sick to his stomach at the thought of losing one of his own brothers. He could empathize with Percy no matter how wrong-headed he may be about Harry.

"Percy?"

Both young men looked up at the small voice saying Percy's name.

"Ginny?"

The little girl wrapped her arms around Percy's middle. The tall, lanky ginger enveloped his sister in a tight hug, his eyes closing and his face pinched.

"Th-that was really scary with Ron, yeah?" she said, looking up at Percy.

"Yes, frightening," Percy agreed. "Are-are you alright? I mean, does it remind you…"

Ginny buried her face in Percy's chest.

"I'm sorry, Gin, I didn't mean to bring it up." Percy squeezed her. "Do you want to go somewhere private to talk about it? We could go up to my dorm room if you like. I think it's safe."

"And I can stand guard," Oliver offered.

"Believe it or not, Oliver's good for something other than catching Quaffles with his face."

Ginny laughed. When she looked up at Percy, her cheeks were wet, but she was smiling. "No, Perce, but thank you. I want you to come sit with us. I think Ron needs you, even if the prat won't admit it." She snuggled into Percy's chest, then added, "But if he doesn't, I do."

Stroking his sister's long, red hair, Percy looked at Oliver over her head. There was a sheepish smile on the ginger wizard's face.

"Yeah, sure, Gin, I'll sit with you."

Clapping Oliver on the shoulder, Percy followed his sister across the room. Oliver leaned against the wall and watched as Percy joined his siblings. Looking up with a small smile crossing his face, Ron slid from his chair onto the floor with Harry and Hermoine so that Percy could have his seat. The twins each mussed their big brother's curly hair in an almost-friendly manner, and Percy swatted at their hands but managed to smile. Ginny plopped down on Percy's lap with her head on his shoulder. Meanwhile, Ron leaned against Percy's leg like he wanted to do the same as Ginny, but was far too old for such babyishness.

"Hey, Wood," Katie said.

Startling slightly, Oliver looked around to see Katie standing before him looking sleepy. As if to prove it, she yawned hugely and stretched her arms above her head causing her chest to strain against her dressing gown.

"Er, Bell," he mumbled.

"Didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared, just…surprised."

"Likely story." Katie grinned up at him. She sidled up next to him, and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Well, it's true," he muttered lamely. Maybe he shouldn't, but he put his arm around her anyway.

"Do you think it's safe to go up to bed?" she asked. "I'm knackered."

Oliver looked at the staircase that led to the girls' dormitories. Was it safe? The twins once told him that the stairs to girls' rooms turned into a slide if a boy tried to go up them, theoretically Sirius Black couldn't get to Katie if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to, of course. The mad man was after Harry Potter. Still, as irrational as it was, it was nice having Katie where he knew that she was protected.

"I reckon," Oliver said. "Why don't you take Angelina and Alicia with you, safety in numbers?"

Katie looked up at him with those big blue eyes and Oliver forgot for a moment that she was too young.

"You don't think they'll cancel Quidditch, do you?" she asked.

That burst Oliver's bubble. He pulled away from her, his posture going rigid.

"Wh-what?" he stammered. "How could you say such a thing? They can't cancel Quidditch."

"You are too easy, Wood," she giggled.

Heat flooded Oliver's face and body. He watched as Katie skipped off to collect her fellow Chasers. The three of them headed up to the girls' dormitories. A part of him was glad that his girls were safe together, but now he wondered if his own room was secure. He could use as much as rest as this blighted night would afford him. Assuming that Quidditch was still on, and Sirius Black had more than likely scampered off for now, Oliver had another match to prepare for.

Stalking across the common room, Oliver passed by the knot of Weasleys. Percy was contentedly stroking Ginny's hair, but as Oliver neared, the eldest Weasley looked up with a small smile. The burly Quidditch player couldn't help but return it.

A/N: You will hopefully be seeing more from me soon. Stay tuned….

And please review.