Author's Note: So recently I was re-reading the entire Harry Potter series back to back in my free time and in the 7th book I was intrigued by the fact that when Percy showed up he said Aberforth had notified him as to what was happening. I was interested in how exactly Aberforth and Percy Weasley came to be associated, and how he met Audrey, and hence, this story came to be. I haven't written fanficiton in a very long time, so please be kind!

Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter characters or anything you read in the books. If I did I wouldn't still be paying student loans from my undergraduate degree that I completed nine years ago, I would have a much better car, and I could stop renting and actually buy a house.

"You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart…"

The familiar lines from his youth rang in his ears as Percy Weasley pondered his glass of firewhiskey, feeling utterly miserable. He knew he was wallowing in his despair. Ever since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had shown himself at the Ministry everything Percy believed was certain and fact had seemed to collapse around him. He had trusted the Minister, believing what Fudge had said. He was the Minister for Magic. He had some of the best wizards in the world working for him, and Percy was honored that Fudge had included him on his staff as an assistant. He felt important, essential even, and he had relished that feeling. He turned on his family, putting his trust in the Ministry, rather than the people who loved him, or rather, once loved him. He supposed that was all different now.

Pride had blinded him. He knew that now. It had been his downfall. Percy realized this fallacy that very night. He was many things, but he was not stupid. However, pride kept him from admitting his horrible mistake. It was much easier to continue to ignore his family and follow the orders of the newly appointed Minister, Scrimgeour. Besides, it had been quite obvious when he escorted Scrimgeour to the Burrow on Christmas Day from the reception he received he was not welcome by most of his family. He decided that day he would continue to follow orders, and continue on his was, blinded by pride, yet again.

When the Ministry fell, he felt he had no other choice but to continue on his chosen path of obedience, and every single day he grew more and more ashamed of himself. The Sorting Hat must had made a mistake all those years ago. He was not brave at all. He was prideful, and he had craved power above all else. Perhaps Slytherin would have been a better fit, because he certain felt that he did not have the courage that made someone worthy of Gryffindor House. Each day he sank more and more into his misery, longing for the past that he knew would never come again.

And so, Percy Weasley now sat, staring at this drink in the dingy bar in Hogsmeade, feeling lost and terribly sorry for himself. He did not know why he had come here every evening since the Ministry had fallen. He supposed it was hope that his sister would come here on a trip to the village. Ginny had clearly been angry the last time he saw her, but he knew she was more reasonable than Fred, George, or Ron. Bill and Charlie would also probably hear him out, but he didn't have the courage to face his disappointed older brothers. He didn't really have the courage to seek Ginny out either, but if he encountered her accidentally… perhaps he would find the strength.

She never came though. The bar always seemed to be empty, save a few wizards who huddled in the dark corners whispering. Selling illegal goods, no doubt. The old Percy would have puffed up in indignation and raved against these acts, but now he knew that these men were likely Death Eaters, and he really had no authority to question them anyway. It was better to keep his head down, and listen, hoping for at least some news of his family.

This Saturday had been particularly slow at the Hog's Head. In fact, Percy had been the only one in all day. He had assumed his now usual place at the bar, consuming firewhiskey after firewhiskey, hoping it would help him forgot what a failure he was. Sadly, it wasn't working. It never did.

"You, Weasley, you better be getting on now." The barman suddenly grunted as he wiped a glass with a dingy rag. "You don't want to be out after curfew, do you? Best not to cause trouble."

Percy lifted his head to look at the man. He wanted to say that he most certainly did want to cause trouble, and if he had half the courage of any other member of his family he'd blast every Death Eater who tried to stop him into oblivion, but all he could manage was a slightly slurred question.

"How'd you know I'm a Weasley?"

The barman snorted in amusement and gave him a critical look. "I've got eyes, don't I?"

The red hair. Being from a family with such distinctive features was often problematic. Percy sighed and finished what would apparently be his last drink. "Right."

"Beside, you've been my only regular for the past four months. Did you really think I wouldn't know who you were, boy?"

"I shouldn't be a Weasley." Percy said, throwing the money he owed for his day of drinking on the bar and climbing unstably to his feet. "I don't deserve the name. Don't have the heart for it. I'm not like my parents, or my brothers, or my even my sister. I'm a terrible brother and a bloody coward. That's all there is to it. A bloody, goddamn coward!"

He swung his arm for emphasis, a terrible idea when you weren't altogether stable to begin with, and ended up tripping over the stool he once occupied, swearing under his breath as he tried to find his footing once more. His glasses were now askew, and his appearance was far more rumpled than he usually found acceptable. The old Percy would have turned up his nose at his own appearance if he could see himself now. The perfect prefect, now a messy and miserable drunk.

As he stumbled about, the barman studied him with his piercing blue eyes, as if he could appraise his worth just by looking at him. The gaze felt somewhat familiar, and not because he'd been sitting at his bar for the past four months. There was something else about those eyes that Percy, in his hazy state, could not place.

"Son, I know a thing or two about bad brothers." The barman said; his guff tone softening slightly as he addressed the younger man. "Whatever you did, if you want to mend if, you're going to have to work for it. Sitting here won't do you good. Though it will help me, seeing how you're just about my only customer these days."

"How?" Percy wailed, running a hand through his distinctive Weasley hair. "It's too late to make amends. They won't listen. Nothing I can do but keep my head down. I'm a failure."

The barman just shook his head and said nothing.

"I wish things were different." Percy continued, misery and self-loathing dripping from every word. "I wish there was something I could do, but there isn't."

"Isn't there?" The barman raised an eyebrow at the younger man.

"There isn't!"

He just shook his head, and came around the bar, taking Percy's arm and silently guided him upstairs to one of the bedrooms. Percy protested in vain, reaching for his wand, but his hands suddenly weren't working quite right, and fumbled uselessly.

"You're drunk, Weasley." The barman grunted, back to his usual gruff tone. "You're in no condition to Apparate home. Sleep it off here. We'll talk in the morning."

He had a point, and Percy knew it, so he gave up protesting. "Wait!" He shouted at the man's retreating back. "You never have told me your name!"

"Aberforth." The man grunted over his shoulder. "Aberforth Dumbledore."

And with that, he was gone, leaving a shocked and rather unstable drunk Percy in his wake.

"But that would mean…" Percy started to reason, and then shook his head, as if to shake away any attempt at logical thought. Right now he wouldn't be able to walk or think straight if he tried. It was time to give in to that blissful, mindless drunken slumber. His troubles would no doubt be waiting for him in the morning, but for now… he just wanted to sleep.

Author's Note: Please review! I would love to know if someone is actually reading this and if it's worth the effort to continue. Audrey will show up soon, I promise… I just wanted to establish that Percy is miserable and really down on himself at the moment… poor guy. He needs a hug.