Disclaimer: This falls under fair use.

Oh, by the way, I'm aware my description of goblins is not exactly the same as seen in the movies and diverges slightly from the books. I just don't want the potentially anti-semitic parts from the older stories to be part of my version of goblins, so I'm trying to nudge them into a different mold. I tend to reply more on AO3 than here but I really won't reply to Discussion about Whether it Matters :)

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That thing he'd sensed had been tied into a weak, cold bond or he'd never have noticed it. After all, Percy had never noticed any ability to sense non-hedge magic before; it was likely the result of a ritual. Sure, maybe that wasn't important right now but Percy supposed he might be distracting himself from the glaring professor and his exposed Dark Mark lying stiffly on the floor.

He'd sent the kids to get Headmaster Dumbledore or, failing that, Professor Flitwick. Snape had tried to make a move. Percy had panicked and shot a laundry folding charm that had leaped far too eagerly from his wand. Now Snape's newly heavily starched robe was wrapped tightly around him, enfolding his arms crossed in an X over his chest. The fact that Percy had somehow subdued him was likely due only to the sheer surprise of both the spell used and the attack itself. Percy was just self aware enough to admit that his professors likely thought he'd rather let himself get hexed than attack a teacher.

He still kind of felt that way, but he had pretty good evidence something was, at least, wrong with Snape. The next step was to get acceptable evidence of that - beyond Percy's less than visible abilities.

Tentatively, Percy had rounded Snape's body and snatched his wand out of his hand before cutting away just a section of the robes covering the man's forearm. Hence why Percy was standing over the furious man with two wands and the professor's Dark Mark on display when Ron ran in, Harry and Hermione on his heels as Headmaster Dumbledore followed at a decent clip for his age.

"Well now," the headmaster came to a halt, taking in the scene. "This is a fine predicament you've landed yourself in, Severus."

Snape, for his part, shot Headmaster Dumbledore a snarl. That was to be expected. However, his verbal reply didn't seem quite as fitting. "I wasn't expecting a charm for laundry from our proudest prefect."

"Yes, I shouldn't say so." He held a hand out towards Percy. "His wand, if you would?"

A little concerned at the lack of urgency, Percy drew the professor's wand in closer unthinkingly. At the motion, Headmaster Dumbledore turned to look at him with a calm curiosity that didn't make sense in the situation. In fact, he didn't seem at all surprised to see the professor's Dark Mark, barely giving it a glance as he'd entered the room. Instead, he was more focused on figuring out what had happened. That implied...

"Sir," Percy began carefully, not quite aiming his newly acquired second wand at the ground before the headmaster's feet. "Did you already… know about this?"

"What?" Hermione squeaked, head whipping as she looked from Percy to the headmaster for his response.

Harry, on the other hand, took a step forward, eyes narrow on the headmaster. "You did, didn't you? You just asked where we had him, not if he'd hurt anyone."

At those words, Ron stepped up beside Harry, his own wand actually drawn, if not aimed at the headmaster just yet. Headmaster Dumbledore sighed, a weariness settling over his shoulders as he turned fully to face his students, back to his Death Eater professor.

"I did not ask because I knew Professor Snape would not harm a student of this school. What you see on him now is the echo of a mistake he made in youthful ignorance; not a mark of the man he is today."

"For God's sake, Albus," Snape interrupted with gritted teeth. "You'll merely confuse them further with that flowery nonsense. There's no point trying to hide it when it's a matter of public record with the Wizengamot. And get me out of this!"

The headmaster gave him a quelling look for the tone of the demand, but acquiesced anyway. Percy took an involuntary step back when Snape rose to his feet, wand snapping back up and teeth clenching uncomfortably.

"I was a spy," Snape ground out irritably, touching the ripped edges of the hole in his robes and letting the arm drop to his side. "A fact which is not well-advertised as I'd prefer not to remember those days at all." He held out a hand, "My wand?"

A spy would have a mark, as well, Percy supposed. He still felt uncertain returning Snape's wand, but if Headmaster Dumbledore was vouching for him… Reluctantly, Percy handed off the short, chestnut wand. It was snatched from his hand with an agitated huff.

He was still going to ask Berodach to look up the court records to which Snape had alluded.

"After this little scuffle, I daresay we've all had enough excitement for the night," Headmaster Dumbledore began leadingly, giving Snape a glance and receiving a sullen nod in return. Whatever it was that had passed between them, the headmaster turned slightly away from the door and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Being in my later years, I do find it hard to keep track of time, on occasion, but it is probably just around time for students to be in bed."

Considering Percy's best estimate was two or three in the morning, this was an incredibly generous assessment. Plus, it got Percy out of explaining what exactly they'd been doing out this late - likely because the headmaster wanted a talk with Snape.

Taking the out, Percy nodded deeply rather than a formal bow and herded the kids through the door. As he left, Snape caught his eye and circled a hand around his own wrist surreptitiously until Percy grudgingly nodded again and Snape gave the headmaster his full attention once more. It was obvious that the deal they'd been about to make was now set, especially considering Snape had the headmaster's ear and trust to an extent Percy hadn't anticipated. There was no question of who the headmaster would believe.

Of course, Hermione was equally ready and willing to escape, ushering the boys out with him. Glancing back at the headmaster, Harry's brow was knit with concern while Ron's ears were flaming red, knuckles white on his wand.

Once the door was shut behind them and they were a ways away from the room, Hermione hissed urgently, "I can't believe Professor Dumbledore is letting a former Death Eater teach children! Daily! Without supervision!"

"And what's to say Snape isn't really a spy for them?" Ron added under his breath.

Percy had no idea where they were getting the energy. He just wanted to get to bed and sleep for a few hours before he was meant to be at the language club meeting Sunday morning. Today.

"Well, Headmaster Dumbledore did hire him for the position, so he must trust him deeply," Percy pointed out wearily. "I'm sure he has a reason for that. Trust doesn't spring from an empty hand."

In fact, if it were true, that would mean Percy would probably need to apologize at some point. Likely whenever he found Snape alone to examine whatever it was that Muriel had left behind. Her binding was oddly similar to the Dark Mark in that they both were sort of extensions of bonds twisted into something new and confining. It wasn't a comforting comparison, either way.

If his head wasn't already throbbing and his dormmates likely to murder him should he wake them now, Percy might have gone up to cry again in the showers when they finally reached Gryffindor tower. The painted hag down the hall seemed delighted to see Percy again and she set off on her aggressive journey without any further prompting to wake the Gryffindor portrait, handily securing them passage back into the tower and to the dorms.

"This time," Percy said firmly, "we are all going straight to our beds, alright?"

The three had been quietly discussing the situation with Snape until they reached an uneasy consensus that there was nothing to do but wait and keep an eye on him. Now they looked up at Percy as one and he felt ever so slightly cornered.

Hermione raised her brows expectantly, emphasizing aloud, "All of us, right?"

"Yes," Percy agreed with only a slight roll of his eyes. They had proven they would chase him down were he to send them up without sleeping himself. He had no plans to avoid his bed, this time. Not when he was still hurting and shaken and something like three traumas deep in one night, but fully cried out, thank you. His brain wanted to blast its way out of his skull.

And the three of them were waiting for him to head up first. Of course.

It was… almost cute, the way they were standing there with hawk-like eyes, blatantly disregarding the cues to go to their dorms in favor of making sure Percy did the same.

"Alright," he conceded, putting his hands up in surrender and starting for the stairs. "I expect you to find me in the afternoon before dinner if you need help with your homework for Monday."

"Good night, Percy," Ron said with his own eye roll, following behind him in a way that blocked any chance of Percy turning around and heading back out. Again, he had no intention to do so this time, but it evidently wasn't allowed as even an option right then.

Strange end to a horrific day or no, Percy still found himself staring at the ceiling later and fighting his thoughts away from everything that had happened that night and what his future looked like now. He'd have a lot more trouble getting into the Ministry with one less NEWT - especially in a core class where he had aced the OWL. On paper, he really had no excuse. It would look like laziness.

Yet he still had to find McGonagall tomorrow and drop the class. Regardless of how it would look. He simply couldn't perform the vast majority of spells the class taught at this level. It was like Transfiguration on a much grander scale, all over again. And it would probably take him right out of the running for Head Boy. The leaders of the prefects were not people who dropped classes. And he couldn't just tell them his reasons. Oh, why did there have to be obstacles in this world that couldn't be overcome with harder work?

He'd done the right thing, right?

Of course he had. There hadn't been any other way. Harry had been in danger.

But couldn't he have… consulted someone?

Of course, that someone might have been Snape who was bound with something disgusting to You Know Who, regardless of where his loyalty may lie (and wasn't it terrifying to have confirmation that it had been a dark lord who had left part of himself in Harry's heart). Yes, it was best to keep his exploits to himself if even the professors weren't safe places to seek help. That thought settled oddly, smugly, when Percy felt anything but. He shook it off, rolling onto his side. At least, he had Berodach, to a degree. Neither of them could help that Percy was at Hogwarts and Berodach in Hogsmeade, but next time, he should at least try to contact him. What else were owls for, after all?

And… Maybe there had been another way. Percy's chest twinged and he rolled over the other way with some force, gripping his blanket to his stomach as if he could physically cover the ever-present wound in his will.

No, he couldn't think like that. What was done was done. Something he was sure Snape thought often, given the horrible things the Death Eaters had done - if the dour man even regretted them. If he was truly a spy for the headmaster as they claimed. But why couldn't Percy fully trust the headmaster on this? What use could there be in smuggling a dangerous double or triple agent into a school if one did not trust them implicitly?

Though, he had also let Lockhart in. And Quirrel, come to think of it.

Troubling thoughts plaguing him, chasing him down into slumber with unrelenting vigor, Percy slept fitfully.

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Goblins, Percy decided later that morning with a bleary resignation, were somewhat beyond his understanding.

Yes, he knew they had a warrior's culture and had been relegated to Gringotts and the mining districts after a series of uprisings. He understood enough of the goblins' British dialect of Gobbledegook - or Graur, in their own language - to hold a basic conversation. He even knew that stories of their ability to curse and transmogrify had not been exaggerated.

What he didn't understand was why the old man visiting Hogwarts on Professor Flitwick's request had decided Percy would be the perfect assistant with no more than a look.

"Yes, him." The long, knobby fingers of the goblin were graceful as he waved a hand at Percy decisively. His streamlined, pointy features would be almost bird-like were it not for his otherwise humanoid form and the twisted grin that adorned his face. "He looks up to the task."

Professor Flitwick, the traitor, nodded agreeably, "Mr. Weasley will be very careful handling the artifacts, Ragar."

Thus, Percy was not allowed to lurk drowsily in the back of the small gathering knitting the second to last Christmas sweater, but instead relegated to the front of the room, where he was to hold up the cultural objects Ragar had brought like a living display stand when they became relevant in his lecture.

It was difficult to follow, considering it was in Graur, but it wasn't quite as hard as Professor Flitwick's verbal assessments. Their honored guest was speaking slowly and distinctly, using mostly vocabulary they had already learned to circumnavigate more complicated concepts. It was a level of consideration Percy hadn't expected from a random guest speaker. His respect for the man inched up a few notches as he continued to speak.

Evidently, the rocky start to wizard-goblin relations had begun with a failed invasion on the goblins' part in Siberia, which had sparked a chain reaction of skirmishes that spread across the continent and set the tone for the interspecies relationship to this day. Yet, Ragar claimed that in most goblin nations, the victor would demand complete surrender and the defeated party would become part of the victor's nation and subject to its laws as equal citizens. Until that was the case, the war was not over and the defeated party had all right to try again. They had had to adapt to wizarding treaties once wizards began to band together and push the issue, but if that were the case...

That did explain a lot about the goblin uprisings. It hadn't even been mentioned in the history books beyond the goblin nations' disdain for anything but complete surrender during a conflict. Of course, Percy didn't doubt Ragar knew his own culture better than the human authors of the textbooks did, but it seemed a costly oversight. One that had shaped the war that had dominated a good half or more of Berodach's life, in fact.

By the end of the lecture, Percy had handled around six horribly sharp blades and one small box full of the ashes of human and other remains, but felt more discomfited by the information he'd just received. Everywhere he turned, he was fated to have his previous assumptions challenged this weekend. At this point, Percy wanted to turn around and go back to bed once the club meeting ended, but unfortunately, he did still need to hunt down and speak with Professor McGonagall… and Snape. The potionsmaster was not the type to wait patiently, insofar as Percy was aware.

"Percy," Gemma caught his arm as he was leaving, her silent shadow of creeping cold edging up behind her. Percy nodded wearily to Grimmett, who nodded back solemnly. "I wanted to sort of apologize for pushing you to confess your feelings for Ross. He talked to me about it earlier and I realized I may have been a touch more aggressive than I should have been. I just wanted you both to be friends, but I understand if you will never come to terms with your heart."

Percy could have explained that he didn't have feelings for Grimmett. He could have reminded her that Grimmett also didn't reciprocate Percy's imaginary feelings. He had, however, heard the actual confession in the middle of her fake apology and he was too tired to argue. She just wanted her friends to be friends. Understood.

"Apology accepted, thank you; I need to find Professor McGonagall - do you know where she's planning to be this morning?" His tone was, perhaps, curt, but Percy really needed to get this over with so he could stop thinking about it and move on to the next problem.

"Oh, I'll walk you," she decided cheerfully, hooking her arm into his so he couldn't escape, the top of her clouds of loose, blond curls brushing his shoulder. "Now that we're on good terms again-" Percy hadn't thought they were on bad terms before. His relationship with Gemma was a mystery even to him, most days. "-I'd love to know why Audrey's worried you're taking on a whole new human responsibility in the form of a mystery uncle?" she continued blithely.

Alright, this was likely the real reason Gemma had cornered him and was even now frog-marching him who knew where. They must have met up last night for… Percy wasn't sure what Gemma and Audrey would do together. While they were friendly, he wasn't sure they had any shared interests beyond being prefects.

"I'm not sure that's any of your business," Percy tried hopelessly. Explaining Berodach would become a full time job if people kept trying to figure it out. Of course, he wouldn't expect Gemma to actually back off, just from-

"Fair enough," she shrugged. Before Percy could fully process that she wasn't going to press him on it any further, Gemma opened her mouth and unleashed the full power of her information gathering, "Professor Flitwick got dispensation to skip some teacher's meeting this morning on account of his guest speaker being planned for weeks in advance and requiring an escort to be on the grounds. Since he knew about it early enough to ask permission and the professors were at breakfast together, they probably started around the same time our club meeting did and planned it the night before. After all, if it were their usual meeting it'd be Saturday morning and that's only once a month, judging by the choir club's schedule conspicuously missing the third Saturday morning of each month. That means it's an emergency meeting or a simple announcement. Either way it will be short and likely in their usual place. Therefore, Professor McGonagall will probably be leaving the meeting in ten or fifteen minutes, upstairs at the staff room near the corridor with the bust of Redbeard the Roaring that leads to the headmaster's office if you're starting from the Ravenclaw tower."

"Thank you," Percy replied automatically, unsure if he was thanking her for the flood of information or for dropping the subject of Berodach. Both, probably.

"I bet they've decided to feed Lockhart to the giant squid," she concluded with some glee, grey eyes sparkling with merriment at the thought of bloodshed. "He's been getting on everyone's last nerve and I heard he was pacing around up there early this morning."

It must have been Lockhart, then, that called the meeting about the information Harry and Percy had brought him last night. Granted, Harry had said the snake seemed very large and Lockhart had ignored it for a different hypothesis, but there was no point speaking to him again. Especially when Percy would soon be out of his class for good. Hopefully just knowing that there was, probably, a snake in the school would be enough for the professors to figure it out.

...He might ask Professor McGonagall about Derek Chen subtly, as well, so she would raise the topic and Percy wouldn't break his first blackmailed deal with a professor.

"Furthermore, I'm sure there's something illicit going on between Lockhart and Professor Vector; they were always smiling and laughing with each other," Gemma was saying when Percy tuned back in. "But lately she's turned her nose up at him at meals and-"

Percy tuned back out again. Gemma had a keen, deductive mind. However, she was also a fan of conspiracy theories and farfetched, convoluted plots. It was this twist of her mind that led her to interpret Percy's reluctant repulsion with Grimmett to be a repressed crush. Sure, Percy could see the lines of logic. That didn't mean she always chose the most likely ones nor that she was usually right, when she got too deep down the rabbit hole.

Speaking of Grimmett, Percy did need to find a way to spend more time with him. His nights were mostly taken up by patrols, knitting, homework, and studying with one person or another. Lately, he'd taken to scouting out a good corner of the castle in which to set up his mother's foldable loom on the pretense of covering more ground on patrol by splitting from whoever he was partnered with that evening.

Actually, there was an idea buried in there. He'd been skipping out early on his studies with Penelope, using this or that excuse, and he was fairly certain she was starting to catch on that Percy might still have not so positive feelings about their… liaison. Which wasn't exactly fair to her, given that she'd been very clear what it was.

He could always use a buffer.

Waiting for an appropriate pause in Gemma's train of thought, Percy suggested, "You know, I really do think we don't spend enough time together, Gemma. Would you be inclined to join Penelope and me in our study group this Friday? And Grimmett, the same invitation obviously is open to you, as well."

She slanted him a look, her eyebrows raising slightly, but agreed easily enough. "Sure. I don't think you've ever offered to spend time with us before."

That- that might have been true. Her blunt statement sliced directly through his ribs and curled little fishhooks of guilt into the soft bits of his chest that he tried to ignore. Sure, he may have had less than stellar intentions for it, but in a sense, he was making up for it now.

Still, his words tripped over the feeling as he spoke. "I- well, I apologize- I merely-"

"It's fine, Percy; I'm glad you're starting to open up," Gemma interrupted with a smirk, patting his back condescendingly. "It only took six years."

She'd said it was fine but now Percy felt as if he needed to apologize again.

So he did.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little quieter.

She gripped his arm and shook it gently, smirk softening to half a smile, "It's okay. Plus, we're here and I'm not planning to wait around with you, so we'll leave you to your self-imposed misery and see you Friday, alright? And like, tomorrow for class."

She hadn't exactly asked Grimmett if that was alright with him, but when Percy glanced back, the scarecrow of a boy was shrugging consent.

"See you then," Percy confirmed. As they left, he double checked to make sure he had been deposited in the place Gemma had mentioned earlier. It would be just her idea of a joke to drop him off a hall away while he was distracted.

No, there was the bust of Redbeard down the hall and he could hear voices nearby. The staff meeting was still ongoing, it appeared. Percy settled against the wall to wait, mentally reviewing the salient points he'd want to hit in conversation so Professor McGonagall would allow him to drop Defense. After all, it was nearly Christmas and Percy wasn't actually confident in the procedure for dropping a class. He'd never done it before. A part of him curled away from the reality of what he was doing, turning his head away and chanting something about how there were still Ministry positions that accepted people with fewer NEWTs and he'd work his way up. Everything is going to be fine, that part of him repeated in an unending mantra that only served to emphasize how very not fine things felt now.

Percy very nearly missed the end of the meeting, were it not for the dark shadow that fell over him as the professors filed out of the room. He looked up to meet Snape's assessing gaze.

"I do believe we have an appointment," Snape said smoothly, somehow not seeming at all discomfited by Percy's new knowledge regarding his status as a maybe spy.

"Well, I actually needed to speak to Professor McGonagall about my classes-" Percy began, but Snape cut him off.

"As a House Head, I can deal with any problems you may have with your classes, as well." His stance was unmoving, but a single eyebrow rose as if daring Percy to question his decision. Seeing as the other professors were passing by without much more than a curious glance, Percy didn't see he had many options here.

He stood away from the wall with a sigh, "I suppose I forgot our appointment was for this morning. My apologies. Should we go to your office, then?"

Snape's lip curled slightly, possibly for the affront of a student directing a teacher, but Percy wasn't sure. It only made sense that they would go somewhere less public, if Snape wanted Percy to follow through on his end of the deal. Finally, Snape inclined his head and turned away with a dramatic flare to the bottom of his robes, stalking off without another word and forcing Percy to scramble to catch up.

He supposed he could find Professor McGonagall at dinner and ask to meet her afterwards, but he would have to be quick to still make his tutoring session with the young Malfoy.

As long as this wasn't… an attempt to clean up loose ends. Percy rather doubted it, considering that he would be the first suspect the headmaster would investigate, given his shady past. Or… actually perhaps not. Headmaster Dumbledore trusted Snape deeply.

His fingers tightened around his wand in his pocket.

The walk was tense and, though it seemed to last forever, actually had to be quite short, considering the pace Snape set on his way down to the dungeons. Walking beside him was an experience. Percy typically didn't travel through the castle with a feared potionsmaster at his side and it rather reminded him of the way crowds at the market had parted when he'd brought Berodach in ghoul form along for the shopping. A somewhat disconcerting comparison, considering that graveyard ghouls could be a deadly threat to wizards in the wild.

When the occasional clouds of meandering students dissipated in the depths of the dungeons, Percy felt his shoulders relax against his will. Sure, it meant he was alone with Snape, but it also meant the roiling waves of fear and resentment that Snape inspired weren't rolling over him, too, by the simple virtue of standing next to the man.

Snape's office was as uninviting and sparse as ever. There was a single shelf of pickled specimens and a small stack of books on a scattering of papers to be graded. The furniture was dark, undecorated wood that Percy knew to be supremely uncomfortable from a single meeting in first year when he'd still thought he could ask Snape questions about his tests. Still, he brought Snape's chair around to the front and sat in the visitor's chair beside it without prompting. It was exactly as he remembered: something about the way the chair bit into every bony bit of a person made one sit up with perfect posture.

Snape watched him take these liberties with clear distaste in the tightness of his face, but didn't argue. Instead, he took the seat across from Percy and demanded, "I expect to leave here without any additional gifts once this one is broken."

Oh, really? How did he expect that? It sounded like he wanted Percy to free him of all the snarls in his bonds and there was no way Percy was touching You Know Who's magic again. For all he knew, the dark lord was already aware of what Percy had done and just being close to the man's magic was enough to turn his stomach cold and his mouth dry. True masters could always tell when their bonds or the magic they'd done through their bonds were altered, like a spider sensing vibrations in a web. Percy wasn't sure what the rules were for someone whose heart was ripped to pieces, but he figured if it had taken an entire pod of merfolk to remove a single piece, then You Know Who likely had at least an adept's grasp on hedge magic and rituals.

"With all due respect, I'm not exactly an expert in this field. I don't think I should be even touching the Dark Mark, much less removing it," Percy sat straighter, tone terse and words clipped. "I will remove whatever it is Muriel has left - if I can and no more. I need your arm for that."

He was relieved when Snape extended his arm without complaint, but his hackles rose once more when the professor spoke again. "That wasn't precisely what I meant, but it answers a few of my questions nonetheless. You sensed the mark last night. How?"

Some of Snape's tension had faded, his black eyes glittering ominously as his attitude shifted. Percy glanced up at the professor and back down to his arm, avoiding the piercing interest in his gaze. Curiosity was truly Snape's fatal flaw, it seemed.

That was fine. He wasn't so exhausted now that he couldn't talk and work - not now that he had had a few hours of sleep between him and the events of last night, anyway.

"It's tied into your bonds - the connections between magical beings which hedge magic and, evidently, rituals require to function." His will slipped down the bond between them and scraped probingly against the binding his great aunt had left behind. It truly resembled an endless snarl at the edge of a bond - specifically the one between Percy and Snape. As for the bond itself, it was almost lukewarm, to his surprise. He supposed Snape didn't intend him harm, after all. Even if its frailty indicated Hogwarts had facilitated its forming. Perhaps Headmaster Dumbledore was right and he could be trusted, to an extent. The overly smug, strange thought that he oughtn't tell anyone, and especially his professors, anything at all seemed to finally fade as his decision settled something in him - he hadn't wanted to think the headmaster could bring someone dangerous intentionally into the school.

Shaking the distraction, Percy focused on what was in front of him. Muriel's binding was interesting. Loops and curls made up a truly complex interlocking series of rings that twisted between Snape's arm and the bond between them. Physically, the binding wasn't anywhere, of course. If Snape cut off his arm, the binding would stay since it was truly anchored in their bond rather than anything material. Possibly, Percy could remove it by merely ripping apart the link between them, but that was… extreme. There was no telling what would happen to their relationship if the magical connection of it was torn to pieces.

"Are you implying that the Dark Lord practiced hedge magic?"

Percy blinked and looked up at the odd tone. Snape's dark slash of an eyebrow was raised in unfettered curiosity while his lips twitched into a rusty smile that didn't suit his face at all. Or the situation really. Perhaps he found the idea laughable.

"Yes," Percy answered simply, nonplussed. "There's hardly any magics that muck with bonds beyond hedge magic. In fact, it's usually not worth it to learn even hedge magic, since quite a few of the possible effects of a working or ritual would be faster and easier with a straightforward spell using a wand and often hedge magic is learned almost solely to gain the opportunity to defend against like events. However, for something like that," he spat the word, unaware of the vitriol that had crept into his voice as he nodded at Snape's arm and the hidden mark. "I'd say he must know, at the very least, a middling amount about hedge magic."

While the binding was complicated through and through (Percy still couldn't find a clear beginning or end), it was not very strong. Percy tugged at it with his own will and felt little cracks begin to form. He'd hoped to unravel it or coax it flat again, but the binding was not having it. He'd have to take Alexander the Great's solution to the Gordian knot he'd been presented.

Carefully, he tightened his grip on the binding, slipping his claws into the knots and slicing through. It took a modicum of effort, but nothing on the level of, say, the fragment from Harry. Probably because Muriel was… Well.

Percy tucked the thought away and focused, ripping through the last bit of her magic left. It was easy, in an awful way. The binding dissolved into nothing and the bond between them thickened almost immediately in response, warming to something a tad friendlier than mere acquaintances as the magic recognized Percy's act as that of an ally.

"That's it," he said aloud, glad to let go of Snape's arm. It was strange to be this informal with a professor. And close. He leaned back in his chair, informing Snape with a sigh, "It's gone."

Snape looked down at his arm, then up at Percy, gripping it closer to his chest unthinkingly. "Are you certain?"

"Yes," Percy stood, brushing imaginary dust from his legs and taking another step away to put space back between them. He wanted to just leave, but Snape needed to be convinced that their deal was complete. And also… "I would greatly appreciate it if you kept the extent of my practice to yourself. Now that you're no longer involved."

Standing, Snape took a step closer, hands tucking behind his back as he leaned into the space Percy had vacated. "That wasn't the deal."

He didn't sound as biting as he normally would and it lessened the intimidation factor of having Snape's too-sharp features directing his full attention onto Percy. It wasn't a fun experience, but it wasn't terrifying. There was curiosity in his tone and he raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"What do you want?" Percy asked, defeated. It seemed that once one slid into the morass of covert give-and-take deals, extricating oneself was more difficult than it looked from the outside.

"Teach me," Snape said. When Percy looked taken aback, he stepped closer, words gaining a hushed urgency. "We are on the same side, Mr. Weasley. This… practice you have; I've never heard of it being used like this. To this scale. What your great aunt did with my Legilimency - what she did to me. And you break it in a matter of seconds? I have spent weeks," his hands came up between him now, clutching his wrist as his words gained the bubbling fury Percy usually associated with Snape. It was familiar enough that it wasn't all that frightening. "Weeks, trying to break that binding, but I couldn't even reach it, much less remove it. It was as if it weren't there, but for its effects."

It would be nice to know exactly what the binding had done, but Percy was more focused on the current situation. The last thing he needed was another obligation with someone in whom he had recently lost a great deal of trust.

"I'm- I'm actually not all that experienced with hedge magic, but I do know who is." The idea came to him in a flash. He really did know some people who knew more than he did - on the grounds, even. Percy continued hastily, "The merfolk in the lake are-"

Snape snorted, "Unlikely to care whether I live or die. You, on the other hand, will have a vested interest in making sure I learn this properly."

"How so?" Percy found himself asking indignantly before he could stop himself.

"If keeping your secrets isn't enough for you; I am a direct connection to the Malfoys," Snape said, stopping Percy in his mental tracks. The professor grinned nastily at Percy's reaction, an expression that looked like it hurt and displayed his crooked teeth to their full effect, "You aren't as subtle as you think you are, Weasley. Don't be a fool when I am offering you my help."

"Can you get me into their Yule gathering?" Percy asked bluntly, mind racing ahead with what this could mean, how many hours a day he could get back if he could just treat Flint like a normal person with a crush on him.

"So that's why you're stringing my Quidditch captain along," Snape murmured victoriously, taking a step back. "Unfortunately, that's still your best angle. I can't exactly invite a student as my plus one. I can, however, tell you that Lucius is accepting a great many more visitors lately - and that's merely what I've picked up without him directly telling me." He spread a hand meaningfully, fingers slicing through the air as if to display exactly what he brought to the table for a moment. His hand snapped shut and he dropped it to his side, "Or I can bring what I know to Albus - and he will not see your actions the way I do. It is blatantly obvious to me that you are struggling to avenge your parents; he will think you are being seduced by the darkness. For all his talk of second chances, he never does treat you quite the same after you make a mistake in his eyes."

Tugging at his earlobe, Percy turned his gaze upward, taking in the stark stone above his head instead of meeting Snape's expectant smugness head on. The man was sure he'd agree and Percy didn't see much of a way out. He'd feared the same of Headmaster Dumbledore himself, after all. It was why he had yet to tell him anything which could implicate him in Lucius' eventual fate.

"I don't have an abundance of free time," he conceded finally, by way of agreement. "I can't be at your beck and call whenever you want to learn something new."

"Excellent," Snape drawled, replacing his chair behind his desk with a swish of his wand. He seemed far too pleased with himself.

"In fact, it might be best if we start the way I was taught. I'm looking for a good, untraveled corner to set up a loom I don't want disturbed and I happen to have it on me now - don't professors have private quarters at the castle?" Percy suggested. "Your office is still somewhere your students might visit unexpectedly."

Though his words implied Percy would begin teaching him in his quarters on the loom, that was the beauty of leaving out the middle of an explanation. Percy was telling the truth and he fully intended Snape to begin learning the way he'd been taught, starting with a lecture and moving rather quickly onward to the practical.

With only passing reluctance, Snape agreed. He mentioned his own experience with weaving was minimal on the way and Percy assured him that wouldn't be a problem. Once they had entered the professor's small drawing room - remarkably similar in style and stark emptiness as his office - Percy quickly set up his mother's loom against the wall with a few taps of his wand. No longer a thick stack of thin wooden planks about the size of his palm, the contraption took up a good eighth of the room. Practicality had been the design's intent; it was meant to be a budget option for people lacking in permanent space. Unfortunately, the fact that it still took up a large area in use and couldn't be minimized with a project half done meant that it had gotten very cheap by the time his mother got her hands on it.

"Alright," he started didactically as he began to warp the loom, stringing the skeleton on which he would eventually weave a tapestry. "Hedge magic uses links between people as a channel for the power involved. The greater the emotional bond of such a link, positive or negative, the easier it is for power to travel across. However, that power comes from ritual, purpose, and rules and it builds up within your will when you make such things routine. Many practice hedge magic through weaving, knitting, cooking, dancing, and a variety of other tasks."

"You didn't have to do any such nonsense when you broke the binding," Snape pointed out, settling forward in his well-worn armchair with his hands clasped pensively, elbows resting on his knees. He had silently taken a seat as Percy worked and now prompted with a curious antagonism, "Nor when your great aunt enhanced my Legilimency."

That was easy enough to explain. Percy replied, "Because that was purely our will - or heart, as Muriel called it - which has already been built up by ritual. I spent all summer cleaning and learning a variety of craft; now I've been working on knitting on a routine basis."

"And following your rules," Snape pointed out, making Percy pause in his work. The professor was jiggling a knee, eyes distant as pieces fell into place for him and he thought aloud, "Your mind - or heart - was carved over and over with rules on every surface that could hold them. Setting and following a chosen number of rules strengthens your will, doesn't it?"

Though the professor's sharp gaze had returned to him for confirmation, Percy found himself momentarily at a loss for words. He did… have a set of rules for himself, didn't he? That must have been why the textures of everything in the strange amalgamation of ICW court and the Ministry had been so off. His rules, carved into the very structure of his mind.

Percy wondered what that said about him, that it was so and he hadn't noticed.

Having been silent too long, he cleared his throat, "Yes, quite. I hadn't thought you'd seen that."

It would rather make his hedge magic practices more effective, wouldn't it? Rules, routine, and ritual. Molly hadn't been trying to boost his confidence when she'd said he was suited, after all. Better to commit to the lecture and think on it later.

"Th- think of the three R's - rules, ritual, and routine - as the source of power. The muscle of your will, if I may. The lesser a task and the less physical the effect is for which you aim, the less muscle is required to do it. Depending on your- well, your exercise routine would be the appropriate analogy, you may already be strong enough without any additional power. There are, however, consequences for attempting something beyond your power."

At Snape's intent nod, Percy internally lamented the fact that the most enthusiastic student he'd ever had was the professor that had blackmailed him into teaching. Although, the reminder that Snape was, in fact, a professor, and that he already had suggested stepping in for whatever Percy needed of Professor McGonagall prompted Percy to turn away from the loom.

"Actually, I really did need to speak to Professor McGonagall earlier and it makes for a fantastic lesson on the consequences of hedge magic if I merely go through you, instead," he decided aloud, unaware of how ominous the statement was, given his word choice and timing.

Snape sat upright, his interested lean forward transforming into the rigid posture of the hunted. "Wouldn't it be better to learn the consequences without a practical example of them?"

"What?" Percy frowned at him until the meaning of the situation snapped into place and he shook off the expression. "No, I'm not talking about maiming you on purpose; I'm saying I need to drop Defense Against the Dark Arts."

It was Snape's turn to ask flatly, "What?"

"Failing certain works results in backlash that can either throw back the intended effect threefold on the caster or merely cause some discomfort, depending on how far along the spell was at the time of failure," Percy elaborated. Crossing his arms over his chest as the memory of the incredible pain of last night preceded his next statement, he continued tightly, "Succeeding in something that requires channeling a vast amount of power can also leave the caster… wounded. For example…" He could get through this. It was just another lecture; a tutoring session in which he happened to have a personal anecdote related to the topic. "Doing great harm can sometimes result in the… ability to do further harm being… crippled."

"The merfolk were active last night," Snape spoke slowly, eyes unwavering on Percy's. "Albus said not to bother them, as they had their own rituals to attend to. Rituals which, evidently, use hedge magic, by your own admission. Were you involved?" His hands flew forward, gripping the arms of his chair as a thought occurred and he spat, "Was Potter involved? Is that why they were all out last night? What exactly did you do, Weasley?"

"There was a problem and I handled it," Percy said tersely, heart racing a mile a minute at his own daring. He'd already been treating a professor as a student, of all things, and now here he was blatantly refusing to answer. "Suffice to say, something needed to be done to ensure the safety of a student and I took the necessary steps. Unfortunately, as a consequence of that, I am no longer capable of a certain branch of spells required by the Defense curriculum. Hedge magic is dangerous if you're using it to do anything beyond small, useless things that a charm could take care of in half the time. It's hard and requires a great deal of dedication for a minimal return. Are you sure you want to learn about this?"

"...If the dark lord knows this branch of magic - a magic that is nearly undetectable to me - I can't ignore it," Snape settled grudgingly back into his chair, having half-risen a moment earlier. "Not if I want to survive his inevitable return. My only hope of living is to convince him that I was truly a triple agent, even after he disappeared. I must be ahead of him at every step or risk being trampled underfoot. I- Why- why am I telling you this?"

Oh, right.

"Healing or harming strengthens a bond and- well, the links between people are deeply entangled with your- your emotions," Percy began delicately. There weren't a great many diplomatic ways to say that breaking the binding must have counted as healing and now they were, in a sense, magically friends. Not necessarily actual friends, but the feelings there would be kinder than they had any right to be, given their actual history. Percy could recognize that he'd been rather swayed into revealing more than he thought necessary, as well. "Since I've just broken a binding you clearly didn't want, the magic… acknowledged it."

"That-" Snape visibly held his tongue, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath through his nose. He didn't seem much calmer when he bit out a second later, "This is exactly the sort of nonsense I need to learn about. I can't have the dark lord actually turning me because I didn't know he could."

"It would require You Know Who healing or greatly helping you in some way," Percy pointed out uneasily. "Events that would sway your emotions on their own- er, usually. It's just a little… amplified."

Eyes closed again, another deep breath. Snape blew it out irritably through his nose and shook his head. "So you need to drop Defense."

"Yes," Percy confirmed, though it hadn't been a question. He was fine with leaving the previous topic behind for as long as he could get away with it. "And this is all set up, so we can move on to your own first, practical lesson."

His mother had drilled him on setting up the loom before he'd left for school. It had been incredibly difficult at first, but now he could set it up in half an hour flat - especially with his wand in the equation. He'd spent an entire day failing his first attempt and he still rather hated it, but the frustration was perfect for what he eventually intended it to do.

Standing, Snape moved to his side, "I can get your schedule changed - you'll have a free period during that time. What am I doing here?"

"You are starting the way I started," Percy explained with a foreboding smile as his heart rate settled and he stepped towards the door. "Lots and lots of cleaning."

Snape's lips grew very thin.

.

While Percy had kept his promise, it was simple enough to set Snape up with a routine and flee. It wasn't as if the professor would want him around while he was doing something so demeaning - or so Percy assumed from the expression of distaste plastered permanently to his face before he'd slipped out.

There'd been a bit of a huff between them at first, but Percy had explained that they'd cycle through the different practices until they found what worked best for him and Snape had given in.

Now, Percy was free to move on to the next item on his list: namely, his own studies. He was able to make it to the common room unaccosted and managed to spend a few hours only answering minor homework questions from lower years as he worked through an essay for Transfiguration and a worksheet for Arithmancy. It was fantastic.

A hand tapped the table he had occupied near the window, and Harry said before he looked up, "Do you have a minute? Maybe outside?"

Well, Percy wasn't about to say no. Especially considering what had happened yesterday. He began gathering his books back together, "Sure, Harry. Allow me to store my bag first."

Harry was waiting near the door when he returned and set them off at a brisk pace. He barely said a word to Percy's questioning until they reached a spot downhill from the lake that was difficult to see from the castle and unoccupied. At least, he'd assured Percy that it wasn't anything dangerous and had tried to tell him it wasn't that important, but Percy had gotten a fairly good grip of what Harry sounded like when he was lying, at this point. He didn't believe that part for a second.

Finally, Harry turned to face Percy and spoke. His grave expression had Percy's heart dropping before he said a word. It may not have been directly dangerous, whatever it was, but perhaps it was someone else who had gotten in trouble - and now there was no getting them out of it. No danger there, just grief.

"I- I still have something I wanted to ask you about, Percy. I mentioned it yesterday before- everything." He looked down, nearly losing his nerve before he abruptly set his jaw and planted his feet firmly. It was as if he were going to tackle Percy rather than ask him a question. "I know- I know it's… weird. How you- you know, treat me. And I want to know- I mean, I'm asking why. Why do you keep-" He faltered, his arms crossing over his chest and a bit of the defiance draining from his posture. "You keep… including me? In your family things? And now you've even- you went and did that. And I was just going to ask about how you um-" Harry's cheeks flushed red. "How you t-tucked me in once and how you keep paying attention to me and why- but now you've… You hurt yourself for… for me and I want to know if that- if it- what does it mean?" His tone stumbled into desperation as he groped about for his next word, lost in every sense that mattered. It wasn't at all what he'd expected. Being rather taken aback at this line of questioning, Percy hadn't quite thought of what to say when Harry raised his gaze and delivered the killing blow. "Percy? What do you want from me?"

Nothing! At least, not in the sense he thought Harry meant it - as if Percy were building up emotional currency to trade in later. He felt a sharp pain in his chest at the idea that Harry was expecting manipulation - an ulterior motive. Had he done something to make Harry feel that way? Or was it past experience?

A part of him hoped he had done something odd rather than have Harry had to deal with someone only pretending to like him in the past.

"I- I truly don't want anything," Percy stammered quickly when he realized the silence had gone on too long. "I apologize if I made you feel that way."

"You have to want something," Harry insisted, his stare up at Percy turning into a kind of glare easily seen even through glasses as thick as Harry's. "You can't just- you can't just do something like that and I just walk away with it."

Wait. Walk away with it? What did that mean? Maybe Percy was the one misinterpreting the conversation. It was less Harry suspecting him of, perhaps, setting him up to be a pawn, and more… A desire to pay back a debt? Percy wasn't sure. It made more sense, certainly. Yet… Percy really didn't want anything from Harry. From the glare he was getting, however, that would be rejected more vehemently if he tried a second time. He should think of something harmless, to defuse the situation and give Harry something he could do.

He knew what it was like to feel helpless.

Unbeknownst to Percy, he had folded in on himself slightly, one hand tugging lightly at his earlobe as these thoughts creased his brow. In the ongoing silence, he had maintained steady eye contact with Harry, and the boy was beginning to fidget as he tried to keep up his glare.

"Hugs," he finally decided aloud. That was relatively harmless and an action Harry could undertake of his own volition. He was essentially just giving the kid permission to initiate hugs without feeling awkward about it.

"Hugs?" echoed Harry incredulously, glare breaking.

"Yes," Percy affirmed matter-of-factly. "If you absolutely must do something for me, hugs are an appropriate way to pay me back."

"Hugs," Harry repeated again, more quietly but no less disbelieving. "You have four siblings at school. And Berodach in Hogsmeade. And your friends."

"And yet, here I am, woefully under-hugged," he sniffed high-handedly, attempting to draw out a laugh, but abandoned the affectation when Harry's shoulders rose up to his ears, confidence visibly plummeting. Hastily, Percy added, hands out placatingly, "Harry, it's alright. You don't owe me anything; you don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with, I just thought it'd be…" He stopped himself before he could say anything like easy or safe , considering the way Harry had reacted to it. Okay, he'd clearly made the wrong choice.

"Just to be clear..." Before Percy could think of something else to suggest, Harry took a half step forward, one hand clenched on the edge of the other arm's sleeve. "You want- me to hug you. When- I mean, at any time? Or…"

Alright, it was not so much the wrong choice as a difficult one for Harry to comprehend which… implied things about his upbringing that Percy could believe so very easily with what he'd seen in Harry's home.

"Any time, Harry." Without meaning to do it, Percy's voice dropped into the same soft register he'd use for Ginny when she was crying. Truly crying - not the crocodile tears she used on Bill. It felt the same, somehow, though Harry's eyes were dry. It certainly hurt the same.

Harry met his eyes again warily, searching for deceit. Apparently finding none, he nodded sharply, looking anywhere but Percy and awkwardly stepping forward into arm's reach. There, he stalled, still seemingly unable to believe it might be okay for him to initiate a hug.

Merlin, this boy was more a mess than Percy had thought.

The words slipped past his lips without thought, "It's alright."

Though he immediately worried they'd only make Harry more self-conscious, blatant verbal permission seemed to snap the last of Harry's restraints as he wrapped his arms tightly around Percy's waist, hiding his face against his robes. Percy returned the hug a little more gently, hoping the approach would rub off on Harry over time. The boy truly had no settings between all and nothing.

As if there were still space left to bridge, Harry pressed closer once Percy showed no sign of pushing him away after some indeterminate time. It kind of warmed something in his chest to see that Harry was less hesitant than he had been. Percy clearly had done something right.

If he pushed aside everything horrible that had led to this, it was nice.

He was glad neither of them were crying this time.

The thought that he did have other things to do kept surfacing occasionally but it was easy enough to drown it. With all that was going on, he would have other things to do no matter what he was doing for months to come, at the very least. That being the case, he tightened his grip on Harry and determined to himself that he would simply weather this out until Harry decided to let go. Surely that would be… soon.

Or not.

Percy didn't want to be the one to end the hug when he'd just made progress with Harry trusting him enough to start one in the first place. Still, he'd missed lunch, himself, and he would need to eat something before meeting the youngest Malfoy for tutoring.

"Harry?" he prompted, gently patting the boy's back. "Are you hungry? I was planning to head to the kitchens in a while, if you wanted to join me."

There, that was suitably diplomatic. It didn't quite tell Harry to stop and it obviously invited Harry's continued presence. This didn't translate perfectly to Harry, who immediately separated by about a yard as if repelled by a magnet. Well, he had to fix that.

Slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders, he added, "I promise I won't lecture if you just ask for sweets."

Harry's shoulders relaxed a little and he looked up at Percy curiously, "Where are the kitchens anyway?"

What?

Before Percy could stop himself, the incredulous question leaped from his lips, "How in Merlin's damned prison did you all kidnap a house elf without knowing where the kitchens are?"

When Harry only stared at him for a moment for the coarse language before breaking into nervous laughter, Percy wasn't sure if he wanted to know.