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For Sire and Land, Thy Sons

Chapter Text

Percy Weasley pushed the door to his cramped office closed with an elbow and sighed. Navigating the numerous boxes stacked high against the walls, he dropped the stack of files unto his already crowded desk and slumped into his creaky old chair.

He felt absolutely knackered. His robe of three days was crumpled and askew, his hair was an overgrown riot of ginger and… *he sniffed at his armpits and made a face*… he smelt a bit ripe despite the numerous cleaning charms.

Cups of stale tea and several old teabags littered the stained the edges of the table, mixed with empty plates, crumpled napkins and takeout containers long empty. Thick manila folders; fat, heavy reports and old and faded journals were stacked sometimes ten strong on every inch of his desk. And it kept growing everyday.

He dropped his head unto his hands heavily, his elbow knocking into a smaller stack of reports on the affects of the recent humidity on flying broomsticks in the Amazon rain forest. A relic from his 'carefree' days as Fudge's bootlicker when he'd been sent on one ridiculous mission after the next as Assistant Undersecretary to the Minister.

Percy had been so stupidly proud back then. He'd actually believed that he'd been hired for his stellar school results and his excellent record while head boy. Head hunted for a position before his NEWTs were even released even, he'd had such visions of the future. Such stars in his eyes.

So much hubris.

So much bullshit.

Fudge had just been more clever than anyone had thought possible, including Dumbledore and the Old Crowd. Even though his father was a career civil servant, Arthur Weasley was Dumbledore's man and everyone knew it. At first he'd been proud of his son joining him at the Ministry but soon enough Percy's ambition and reluctance to stay 'in the doldrums' with his father had soured their relationship somewhat. It had only gotten worse from there.

Cornelius had promoted Percy up the ranks at such a pace that no one would ever believe it wasn't favoritism. Then, when he'd gotten Percy tucked up under his wing and away from any kind of actual professional respect, he'd sent him off to the ends of the earth on essentially useless fact finding missions.

Before he'd known it, Percy's professional feet had been eroded out from under him and he'd become the Ministry joke, in the end powerless and doomed to stay in his current position until he eventually died and his ghost took back up the job.

It had been a bitter blow to the middle Weasley son. One day he'd looked up and realized that he'd lost everything he'd worked so hard for. Penelope Clearwater had long walked out, he didn't speak to his family much, didn't get along with his co-workers. He had nothing but the farce of a job he'd clung to because the thought of leaving, of giving up even now terrified him.

The stack on his desk wobbled and knocked over the nameplate on his desk. Sighing, he reached over and righted it, noticing dully that someone had spelled his name to 'Pussy-val Weatherby' as a joke. It was the latest of many. He was well aware of what people thought of him. He'd heard whispers in hallways, giggles as he passed, smirks and snide remarks.

Back from Zanzibar already eh Weatherby?

Did you show them witches down there the proper way to bundle their gathered herbs eh Weatherby?

Off to measure cauldron bottoms again eh Weatherby?

Fudge is really keeping those Alaskans on their toes eh Weatherby?

Got your nose deep in Fudge's arse today eh Weatherby?

He bourn it with a quiet shame until eventually he'd grown numb to it. Eventually he'd just given in and started answering to the name Weatherby instead of putting in an effort to correct the mistake. The harassment had gotten so bad over time that he'd come close to quitting several times but had always chickened out before he actually could go through with it. Just when he'd just about thrown in the towel, for real this time, the great fall had come.

That is what they were calling the death of Lord Voldemort and all of his marked servants by the hand a Gryffindor Know it all and two Slytherin goons.

The end of the Second war of Light and Dark.The Great Fall of the Dark The Great Fall of Lord Voldemort and his reign of Terror The Great Fall of the entire pureblood structure that was the foundation of wizarding Britain.

And in the days and months after the Fall, the WB had been slowly toppling, its very core cracked and weakened by the deaths of so many rich and powerful (magically and politically) and left the community balancing precariously on what was left of 'society'.

It had been six months three weeks, five days seventeen hours and fifty three minutes since the dark lord's demise. Since everyone of his marked death eaters fell down dead in their tracks. Since so may people integral to the wizarding world followed Riddle to his horrid end.

Six months and some since Ginny fell from the tower. Free from the prison that was her mind, her life. Sweet Ginny. Six months and some since one of the few lights of his life got snuffed out. He blinked away the sting of tears and quickly squashed the flare of pain under his ribs.

No… he couldn't dwell too much on that now. That way led to laying curled up, wailing in the corner of his small flat with a bottle of Ogden's fire whiskey and a strong silencing charm.

Six months and some since wizarding Britain had been tossed into the middle of shit creek and was clutching at straws like a drowning man. Since, in the middle of a routine progress meeting, half the department heads of the ministry screamed bloody murder as they expired slowly and painfullyand the other half watched in horror.

He'd heard that those left alive had been running around like headless chickens, casting protego's, revelo's and even expecto patronum's willy nilly in their confusion. The rest of the ministry hadn't fared any better. Memo planes were flying helter skelter, patroni scampered about, sending messages to and fro, the floos were flashing almost constantly until someone with a clear head ordered them shut down. The cracks of apparition like a symphony through the marble halls.

By all accounts, It had been utter pandemonium. Percy had not actually been present during the fall. He'd begged off last minute from the mind numbingly boring meeting and had called in a favour from Jenny from Secretariat to take minutes for him.

In fact, he had been in the process of getting his brains fucked out of his ears by Marcus Flint's heavy uncut cock when the Fall had occurred. Flint had been Percy's dirty little secret since Hogwarts. After school they lost touch for a few years when, one day when Percy had tried to drown his misery at a dank little pub in Knocktern Alley, they'd met again.

Flint had taken one look at the redhead and had scrambled him by the collar to a dingy flat two streets down. There he'd thrown Percy down on the tiny bed and fucked him hard.

And Percy had let him. Oh did he let him.

They never spoke a word that day, or any of the other days they arranged to meet by charmed paper. Marcus was rough and aggressive in bed, his large hands leaving bruises on Percy's pale skin that he would stare at for days after, like some kind of badge he'd owned.

Marcus was that same uncouth, crooked teethed, foul mouthed bully he was in school but in the bedroom he was a master at pulling unbelievable noises from Percy. He knew how much was just enough and handled the redhead's body like a fined tuned instrument. Sometimes Flint would get dressed and slip out while Percy lay panting on the bed, sometimes Percy would be the one to leave first.

Outside lives didn't matter in that dingy flat. It didn't matter that Percy was pigeonholed at the ministry and hated his life when he rode Flint dick like he was born to it. It didn't matter that Flint was a card carrying death eater, his dark mark pulsing on his forearm as he buried his hands in ginger curls and fucked Percy's mouth. Only Sex mattered.

That and that Percy call Flint "Captain" while they were fucking. That mattered.

By the time he'd dragged himself to work the next day, the news of the Great Fall had become just one of many other horrors he'd have to endure.

His office door banged open, startling him out of his reverie. It was Jenny from Secretariat.

"They've sacked Nolton in Magical Creatures."

she slammed the door closed behind her and pushed a pile of paperwork off of one of his chairs before collapsing into it. Jenny had been a Ravenclaw prefect two years after him and he'd given her a great review when she'd applied for work. They'd had a good working relationship both in school and at the ministry and they often met regularly to trade news and information about the workplace. One thing Ravenclaws loved was information and he and Jenny had just gelled together as co-workers.

"That's the third this week" Percy frowned.

In an effort to keep up appearances with what was left of the British magical community and the world beyond, Fudge had begun head hunting for scapegoats within the ministry itself.

"I've heard rumors of Johnstone and Billingswood getting the axe by the end of work day."

Percy leaned back in his chair and joined his hands under his chin, index fingertips on his lips. They were starting to happen faster. First came the sacking. Then the arrests, the 'investigations' and straight to Azkaban and the kiss. All reported publicly in the Prophet of course. The spectacle of it seemed to soothe the angry masses like the ancient games of the coliseum. It was abhorrent.

He looked up at the anxious woman. "What are you going to do?"

She flattened her skirt nervously. "I'm going to make a go of it in Spain. I have a cousin there. they've agreed to take me in."

"Did you contact Hevanas about the…?"

"Portkey yes. Just got it today. Paid muggle cash, under the table just like you told me. Kept it very hush hush. Thanks for that by the way." She smiled weakly.

He nodded. "You're a good worker Jen, one of the finest in Secretariat. I don't want to see you harmed for something that not your fault. This place is going to the shit. It's just going to get worse from here. When do you leave?"

"I was thinking Sunday morning since Monday is holiday…."

"Go tonight."

"But… my things"

Percy leaned forward. "You can get new things. Throw your kit together with your keepsakes and slip out the back way. Lose yourself in the muggle world for a bit and portkey out. Don't give anyone a chance to come after you. You can't trust Hevanas not to rat you out if he's discovered."

Jenny gives a trembling nod. "Ok…" she breathes, "What about you?"

Percy ran a hand over his tired face. "I have some things to do first."

Jenny leaves, slipping out of the office with a 'be safe'. There's nothing more to say. Wizarding Britain is flailing it's last. The ICW are looking for an in, any reason to sweep in and take over. Fudge is hanging on like a mad man backed into a corner and he intends to take as many with him as he can when he finally goes down.

A memo plane zipped into his office an tangled in his ginger curls and he snarled a curse, reaching up to untangle it. It was just a copy of an official document, hastily made. Good old Jenny. It was a pink slip, walking papers made out to 'Percicles Weatherby' that had come back to the office for verification on the name.

Thank Merlin. Seems like that stupid nickname has just saved his skin for once.

The paper crinkled as his fingers clenched around it. So soon? He wasn't ready yet. He still had a few loose ends to tie up before he used the portkey he'd have Hevanas make for him almost four months ago. No matter, he had most of what he needed, the rest he could source.

He stood up from his desk, grabbed the picture frame of his family that always stood on his desk, shrunk it and tucked into his robe pocket. It was time.

In the middle of Thursday afternoon, Assistant Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic 'Percicles Weatherby', popped out his office and informed his secretary Amelia that he was taking a late lunch and to hold all of his calls until he got back. Shrugging on his simple brown coat, he slipped through the doorway that led to the emergency staircase and was soon lost in the crowded London street.

He was never seen again.

Chapter Text

Percy stomped down the darkened stone hallway of Hogwarts, smarting from the latest prank perpetrated by the twins. With everything going on with Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban and the dementors hanging about the school, the twins still had time to muck about with 'Perfect Percy", Head Boy.

It wasn't his fault he'd given Potter a detention for being caught out after curfew. It had been the third time he'd found the Boy Who Lived skulking through the halls. It didn't matter that he'd given the boy two warnings, two more than he would have given anyone else.

He'd felt sorry for the Potter boy, his pale face haggard and drawn, emerald eyes glassy, the skin under them bruised and dark. But there were rules and there were rules and even the precious saviour wasn't above them.

He strode around a corner, upset that this particular prank had made him look like an utter fool in front of the one person whose opinion he secretly craved. Olliver Wood was athletic and popular and painfully out of Percy's league. That and the fact that he was utterly straight meant that Percy had spent most of his formative years at school with his bed curtains closed, perfecting his silencing charm and getting intimately acquainted with his right hand.

A high pitched yelp echoed down the corridor and he stopped short. What was that? Did a Dementor come into the school by mistake? He knew in his heart that having those… things… around children was a bad idea but Dumbledore seemed so reassuring during the Prefect's meeting that Percy had quashed his trepidations.

He raised his small lantern and peered into the shadow. The tapping of heels on stone calmed him somewhat. Dementors did not have feet, much less heels. That did not stop his heart from pounding though.

"Whose there?" he demanded, "Identify your self"

A small figure came out of the shadows at a fast clip, half jogging up the corridor towards him. He recognized her at a fourth year Hufflepuff girl, Shannon something of the other. He frowned as he took in her wild eyes, her messy hair and crooked robes as she pulled them together around herself.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, "what happened? are you hurt at all?"

Her watery eyes shone in the lamp light. "Fine, I'm fine…" she stammered. " I was in study hall and lost track of time. Fell alseep, yeah… I fell asleep. Please don't give me a detention."

He looked her over once again, taking in the bruised and swollen lips, the hickey she was trying to hide by hiking up her collar, her trembling hands. Fell asleep studying… sure. More like just come from a illicit rendezvous gone awry.

"I'll let you go this time…" he put up a hand as she tried to speak "…but you need to get yourself checked out by the head prefect of your house, Gabby Truman if I recall correctly. I'm may not be the right one to handle this sort of thing but I can't just let it go without making sure you are ok. So get your self looked over, maybe talk to her about it a bit. I will be checking with her to see you've talked to her alright?"

He watches her as she nodded eagerly and all but ran towards the dorms then turns towards the shadowed hall from which she'd come. Hefting his lamp once again, he set off into the shadow. Soon enough the sound of soft grunting could be heard from behind a curtained alcove. Putting a fierce expression of his face, he swept the thick material aside only to stumble back in shock at the sight before him.

Seventh Year Slytherin Marcus Flint sat against a small stone ledge, his fully erect, engorged cock held in his large pumping fist. His black beady eyes glittered as he gazed back at Percy's wide eyes, his pink tongue caught between his crooked teeth.

Breath left him as his eyes were drawn to that pumping fist. He could not look away as a heat exploded deep in his gut, mesmerized at the soft noises Flint was making as he fucked his own hand.

Flint grinned cruelly "Like what you see Weaselby? You wanna taste this? you want this on your tongue, filling your throat, gagging yourself on this meat? The ickle puffy who was here before couldna handle this pole and ran away. Are you gonna run away too or are you gonna come over here and do somin' about it?... being 'Head' boy and all"

Percy flushed hot, his face burning as the slytherin teased him. Flint was such a fucking bastard, always terrorizing the younger years, making Olliver's life hell on the quidditch pitch, tormenting Percy as one of the only two gryffindor boys in his year. Laughing like an ass when the twins tore another chunk from his feeble social status. Who the hell did he really think he was to think that Percy would just drop to his knees and suck his dick after all of that?

But still, Percy just couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from that heavily veined, dripping cock. The inside of his mouth stung, watering as he imagined how that hot flesh would feel against his tongue. How the pre-come dribbling from the slit in the swollen head would taste like.

He'd heard stories, from his brothers, from the other boys in the common room. Penny had been okay with heavy petting but she had balked at going any further and tasting himself after his own self abuse seemed forbidden in his mind. He always heard his mother's voice harping in his ears when he tried to explore his own sexuality. Her 'perfect' son could never be such a deviant, such a letch.

Perfect Percy. Percy the Prude. Percy the closet poof. Percy the pitiful.

He was tired of being that 'boy', that ideal of the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect prefect and gentlewizard. He was so tired of living up to so many expectations that that he felt submerged up to his eyeballs most of the time. He never just WANTED something, consequence be damned.

He licked his lips, glancing up to catch Flint's teasing gaze. Slowly, he closed the curtain behind him, hooking the lamp on a nearby wall and walked up to the sprawled quidditch captain. With a hand that hardly trembled he reached over and grasped the erect cock at the base, Flint's breath hitching as the heated flesh jumped in Percy's hand.

Flint's gaze was curious but he kept his tongue as Percy carefully kneeled, never breaking his gaze. Hazel eyes stared into glinting shards of jet as Percy took in a deep breath of musk and man. He leaned forward and flicked out a pink tongue, catching a taste of pre-come. It was bitter like he'd heard described, but not unpleasant and he leaned forward for another lick, this time a longer swipe from the thick base to the swollen tip.

Flint let out a low groan, biting his fist as the redhead took the head between pink lips, suckling gently. The weight of the hot flesh on his tongue, tracing the tip along the pulsing veins that lined the cock felt so good. He felt his own erection tight in his pants as he took more of Flint's cock into his hot wet mouth.

He moaned as the tip brushed the back of his throat and pulled back a little, putting his hands against Flint's hips, bracing himself and anchoring Flint who'd started pitching and writhing against the wet heat surrounding his cock, wringing out 'fuck yeahs' and 'don't stops' from the dark haired male.

Encouraged, Percy started really getting into it, taking Flint deeper and deeper at every pass, swallowing around the thick cock to circumvent his gag reflex. He sucked and hummed and worshiped Flint's cock like he was studying for NEWTs in the subject of giving head. He always believed that If something was worth doing, it was worth doing his best.

When Marcus Flint's hands stole into his ginger curls, he didn't even break stride. When the large hands gripped his hair gently and started guiding his head, he just closed his eyes and relaxed into it. When Flint's hips began to snap forward, his cock pushing deeper into the headboy's throat, not ceasing until the redhead's nose was buried in his dark and curlies and his balls slapped against his chin, Percy let himself get lost in the sensation, drifting blissfully away as the dark haired boy fucked his mouth steadily.

A tensing of Flint's hard body was the only sign of his upcoming orgasm and he thrust deeply as he came, forcing Percy to swallow as he pumped thick globs of cum down the redhead's slender throat. Percy clenched his fingers in Flint's robes, concentrating on swallowing every last drop pulsing from the thick cock like a man starved.

When a shuddering Flint finally pulled away, Percy followed eagerly, licking the half hard flesh clean with long swipes of his tongue, brushing his swollen lips against the sides of the shaft; pressing an open mouthed kiss at the base as the cock twitched weakly. He stayed kneeling, watching mutely as Flint tucked himself back into his trousers and fixed his robes.

Rough hands threaded through his curls and he hummed as a calloused thumb dragged across his swollen lips.

"You came without even touchin' yerself." Marcus chuckled softly. "… ye liked that didn't ye?"

Percy nodded lazily, completely sated and still high off the sensations. "Yes"

"Yes Captain." hands clenched in his hair once more, tight enough to sting. "If we're going to do this right, you' will call me Captain and Captain alone you understand?"

"Yes Captain" Percy murmured up at the grinning dark haired Slytherin.

"Good boy"


Muggle London was crowded with people by the time Percy made it to Clapham North Station from the Ministry building, shedding his wizarding robe and brown cloak for a stained denim pants, muggle graphic tee and hoodie he'd purchased at a thrift shop. With his unruly red hair and permanent scowl, he looked just like any other surly youth tramping about the city.

He dare not go to King's Cross station with its 9 3/4 and wizards milling about. The aurors would no doubt be crawling the place as if he'd be stupid enough to go through the one magical train station in the country. The knight bus would also be monitored closely. Good thing Percy knew how to navigate the muggle world from all the travelling he'd done for the Ministry.

He purchased a ticket and a cheese sandwich and soda from a vending machine, slumping into one of the plastic chairs that lined the station walls. The walking papers had come earlier that usual and he'd had to leave some of his supplies behind.

Most of his needful had been stockpiled weeks in advance, ever since the atmosphere at the Ministry had taken a turned for the worse. He could replace everything else one the way. There was also a vital piece of information he still needed that he would have to push up the deadline on. It would be close be he thought it possible.

The train ride passed faster than he thought it would and he hopped three other buses, two of them going in the wrong direction before he reached his intended destination. The shiny glass of Santa Briguita’s Centro Médico Para La Mágicamente Adyacente always appealed to his sense of order, of neatness. The pristine grounds, the sparkling surfaces, the friendly and efficient staff and the seamless combination of magical and muggle medicine settled something inside him whenever he visited.

He signed in under security's watchful eye and made his way quickly up to the offices he'd come to know quite well during his visits. Dr. Osbaldo Thompson greeted him with a smile, his blonde curls bouncing as he shook Percy's hand. They chatted a few and then walked a small ways to the elevator, taking it up a few floors to a large and airy ward.

At the end of the ward he saw a black haired teen sitting on the very last bed, talking quietly to a tall, dark and bearded doctor. They both looked up at the same time, their eyes narrowing at the new comers almost identically. Doctor Cuthbert Merrigold's stern face a veritable storm cloud compared to Doc Thompson rose cheeked smile.

"It's time then?" the dark haired boy asked calmly, playing absently with the sheets of the bed.

Percy nodded.

Nodding the young man sprang from the bed, catching the dark haired doctor in a long hug. The bearded man whispered into the teens hair, giving a last squeeze as the boy nodded against his shoulder. The blond doctor was next to get hugged to death, laughing as he lifted the boy off his feet briefly.

He pressed a slip of paper into the boy's hand and chuckled as the boy read the hastily words on it with a look of awe on his face. A second round of hugs and laughter started until they finally settled and the boy slung on a denim jacket and a large muggle backpack with some kind of creature printed on it.

"Bye Berty…. Bye Baldy…' the boy said softly, his eyes running over the two as if memorizing their features. His smile is a bit sad as he waves goodbye to the two men he's spent the last six months and some with. The two men who'd saved his life, his mind when no one else would.

"Take care of yourself Harry" Merrygold's deep timbre wobbles a bit and he clears his throat.

The black haired boy turns to face Percy, green eyes clear and filled with intelligence and a little bit of trepidation

"I'm ready" he says confidently, hitching his backpack higher on his back.

Percy nods. "Ok. Let's go."

Chapter Text

They use the last of Percy's muggle money to buy two train tickets to Otford and a couple of cheap petrol station sandwiches and energy drinks. They jump trains in the slow moving Otford West turning station and spend the rest of the afternoon riding the empty carriages of a cargo train north up to Shoreham link. As the train slows they hurl their bags out unto the grassy hills and follow them, grunting as they roll down the soft incline to land on a cushion of wild grass.

After a few minutes spent looking for their tumbled bags, they cross the tracks and head into the woods. Percy pulls a folded map out of his shirt pocket, neat handwriting in the upper corner instructing him to follow Fackhadden Lane straight down to Magpie Bottom until he got to Bell Cottage.

He shows Harry the map then tucks it away, adjusting the strap of his duffel as they set off. The walk is long and gives Percy time to think. Potter trods along quietly next to him, back pack high on his back, never once complaining as they travelled.

The narrow stone road snakes its way through large canopied trees and lush green meadows and Percy is brought back to his growing years, running barefoot around Ottery St. Catchpole with his brothers when he was very young. He'd been just another little boy back then, running jumping getting dirty and sqirming in the tub when his mother tried to wash behind hid ears. Life had been sunny and filled with joy.

He'd been a few months shy of four when his mother's brothers were killed in Riddle's first rise. They'd had to hide after that, living in safe houses, on the run from the dark lord's forces. Nights spent huddled in chilly secret rooms, carved under floors or hidden behind walls, days spent scared mute, not being able to play or laugh or sing or make a single noise for fear of discovery.

Charlie and Bill had clung to their father's side whenever he appeared or they would whisper angrily among themselves in corners. Arthur seemed a man possessed with the hunt, getting back every one of those rotten Death Eater Scum.

Molly had her hands over full with the twins and baby Ron and had been prone to weeping silently or trembling anxiously in the middle of everyday acts like cooking or getting them dressed for bed. Percy saw everything, sitting in his corner, huddled by the stove because to light too big a fire would make too much smoke and they would be found and killed.

His family, his parents were fracturing before his eyes. Someone needed to hold it together long enough for Mummy and Daddy to feel better. Bill and Charlie were too angry, the twins and Ron were too young. That just left Percy.

So he'd been the perfect son. He'd be good and help his Mother with the twins and Ron, he'd do chores without complaint, he'd take his father's mind away from war even briefly by asking him about muggle things, he would draw the older boys out of their funk by asking them to explain the homework they'd received in Primary before they'd had to flee.

Percy would be the one they didn't have to worry about. Or cry over, or to shout at.

He'd be Perfect.

The sun was setting as they walked up the last stretch to Bell Cottage. Percy's feet were sore and even Harry was starting to lag. They finished off the last of the energy drinks and got to the cottage just as the sun slipped into night.

Warm electric light shone from the window was they trudged up the small stone path and knocked on the door. They could here shuffling inside, the rustling of a door chain. Suddenly the door swung open, light and warmth spilling unto the tired travelers.

"Wotcher Penny" Percy smiled tiredly.

Penelope Clearwater gazed at him with sharp brown eyes, taking in every detail. Potter squirmed as she gave him the once over as well. Seemingly satisfied, he nodded and smiled wide, opening the door further and stepping aside to let them in.

"Let's get you boys in here and off my door step before Miss Marple next door thinks I'm having a orgy in here."

"Wouldn't Miss Marple think you a killer first?" Harry said, shrugging off his heavy pack and dusty jacket.

"oh, fan of Mugggle whodunits are you Potter?" Penny brought a tea service from the small kitchen.

Potter accepts the hot tea with a indiscernible look on his face. "My Aunt liked her movies."

Ah yes. The Dursley woman. Petunia. Bad all around that one.

Percy settle back into the cozy chair and took a sip of tea. Oh yes. That hit the spot.

"Exactly as I remembered it. I always loved the way you made a cuppa Pen."

"Too bad it was the only thing you loved or we might have been together still."

Her tone is teasing but there is an undertone that makes him frown. "Pen…"

She throws her hands in mock surrender.

"I know I know… just teasing…." she turns to go back into the kitchen, flipping the long brown hair over her shoulder, "…. We both know that the reason we broke up is that I had the wrong plumbing down there…. no matter how good magical didlos are, there's nothing like a good cocking eh Perce?"

Percy's cup clatters against his saucer as he chokes. "Clearwater there is a minor present!"

"Oh don't mind me…" Harry grins, highly amused at how red Percy is getting, "… I've been facing old voldiefuck since I was a babe in nappies. I survived having my magic ripped from me by that used tampon, essentially making me a squib and have been essentially banished from the only world I've ever loved, I'm sure I can handle some naughty jokes."

Both Percy and Penny stare at him and he sips his tea smugly.

Dinner is warm soup and hearty bread, cuts of cheese and meat. They eat in silence, knowing that the night is till not over. As tired as he is, Percy knows they cannot spend the night in England. The ministry can still track him somewhat within the countries borders and taking a few hours sleep is just to risky.

After Dinner they tromp into an old shed in the back where Harry and Percy strip bare, piling up all their clothes and belongings into piles upon the large wooden table. They scrub down completely with hand made soap made from Basil, Juniper and Osha to cleanse them of any magic that's lingering on them that could be traced. Penny gathers the old clothing, taking it to a fire she's lit with rowan branches. He can hear the crackling of the many charms and runes that had been weaved into them over time.

Packets of prepackaged clothing are opened and donned. Percy is in a white button down shirt and dark slacks and lined jacket. Black ankle boots finishes the look. He hears Potter mutter a curse and looks over.

"What's wrong? Are your levels ok?"

Potter shakes his head as he shrugs on the navy blue hooded jacket, turning to face Percy with a frown.
"My levels are just fine. Had a bit of a problem with the soap but I did the exercises and they worked. No… my problem is that I look like an utter tool while you get the nice duds."

Percy smirked, straightening his jacket one more time before heading to the table to empty out his duffle.

"I have to look like a responsible Professor guiding my wayward ward to his parents house after he's bee kicked out from his third boarding school. You dear Harry, have to look like a wayward ward who was just kicked out of his third boarding school and is on his way to meet almost certain doom at the hands of his strict parents."

Harry twists his mouth into a surly pout. "T'wasn't me that did it Prof. Was framed idn'it? Too right!"

Percy barks a laugh at Potter's mangled English and passes a satchel to the boy.

"Here are your new Documents. Passport, birth papers. Student id, library card, visas, even an inoculation card. Everything you need to start a new muggle life."

Potter whistled softly. "You thought of everything did you?"

The redhead shook his head ruefully. "I had six months and some to plan. As soon as Granger went missing and was 'exiled' to cover up the fact that they'd lost her on her way to getting the Kiss for killing the dark lord, I knew that it was only a matter of time before they came back for you. I made her a promise that day… to see you safe. And the only safe place right now for you would be at her side."

Percy started taking family photos and keepsakes out of their albums and into a large ziplock bag, instructing Harry to do the same with the few photos he'd asked Hagrid to sneak to him from potter's room in Hogwarts. The rest of the boy's belongings were lost to him now. What use would he have of an invisibility cloak or flying broom stick. If Ron hadn't absconded with them then Dumbledore surely had.

"Fudge and Dumbledore may be at odds but they are master politicians. Sooner or later the public would have been wondering whatever happened to the Boy Who Lived and they would have trotted you out to the hungry masses, squib or no. I had to get you out before you to fell before the cause. We’ve lost too many already."

His heart panged. Ginny. Sweet Ginny.

Potter tucked the last of the photos into his own ziploc bag and threw the old album into the pile for burning. He began packing the muggle clothes he'd taken from his time at the hospital, throwing out the more threadbare ones and supplementing them with newer one Penny had obtained. More crackling came from outside and Penny threw another lot top burn.

"Why are you doing this… helping me? What about your family?"

The redhead shrugged.

"Ron's at school. Mom and Dad have joined him there. The ministry won't dare try for Dad there, the headmaster's sway is still too strong. The ICW may have made him step down but there's no way they can get him out of that school. Public opinion still has Dumbles as the best choice and they won't be swayed.

Hogsmeade is as much a fortress as the castle is. A lot of magical folk fled there, unicorns, satyrs, some of the more peaceful werewolves, centaurs and more because of Dumbledore stance on equality for all. The twins are there, inventing new ways to defend the growing community, essentially running the town with Dumbledore's backing. Charlie's safe in Romania. Gringott's has Bill and his Fiancé in Egypt."

He almost adds that Ginny's at the local graveyard in Ottery St. Catchpole but it's too heavy on the tongue to get out.

They are packed and ready when Penny brings out mugs of warm ale and they stand, watching the fire burn through the last bit of magic they had with them. Percy steps forward, his wand in his hand. He never thought he'd see the day when he'd burn his own wand. But here it was, the day had come and it surprised him a bit at how little he felt. He turned the bit of carved wood and unicorn hair and thought about how it seemed to respond so differently now than it had when he was eleven.

Goodbye old friend, he mused; tossing the thin tube into the blazing fire and stepped back, watching solemnly as the wand sparked and cracked, the strands of silver hairs shriveling up and disappearing amongst the flames. They would be ok, the mused. He had a bit of wand less knowledge and where they were headed, he had lots of opportunities to buy another if need be.

He walked into the house just in time to see Harry drinking a potion Penny had handed him. Within minutes his hair was longer and more scraggly, lightening to a brown from the almost jet black he'd always sported. Another potion had his emerald eyes turn hazel. It was a temporary measure, it would only last a month at the most but it saved them from having to use glamour and he wasn't sure how squibs reacted to polyjuice and he didn't want to risk it. This would be some of the last magic they would be performing for a while.

Percy's hair was shorn low, Penny assuring him that he looked a proper muggle hottie, laughing as he blushed. Some stubble added to his chin and his hazel eyes given spec of green.

"How come he gets to look GQ when I look like a complete derp?" Potter grumped.

Before Percy could even ask what a Derp was Penny was ruffling Harry's wild and straggly hair.

"The more people look at him darling, the less they will be looking at you."

She flopped unto a nearby divan. It was white and pink and had a million frills.

"Look at it this way… at least your new name is something cool like Harrison James and not Iggy Westerly like someone we both know."

Harry held his stomach as he laughed, "Iggy?..... Iggy Westerly?.... Classic."

Percy flushed. Not because of the gut busting laugh the others were having at his expense but because the only other person he'd ever allowed to call him Iggy had been Marcus bloody Flint.


He liked to call him 'Iggs'. Just as he like being called Captain.

For the next few days after that first encounter in the secret alcove, all Percy could think about was the taste of Flint's cock on his tongue. The heavy weight of it, the shape of it. The thick base as his lips stretched around it, the swollen head pushing passed the back of his throat. The delicious heat of another man's erection against his cheek.

He went to classes, held meetings with staff and prefects, did patrols and performed a myriad of other duties efficiently and without hesitation or delay, but in the quiet moments, the odd little moments that popped up in the day, he would drift back to that night and burn with desire.

He knew one thing for sure. He had to have it again, somehow. He fell into research like a man obsessed. Flint was a Slytherin, Gryffidor's sworn enemy. He would not go into this blind. He needed information. He found a goldmine in a sixth year Hufflepuff boy who he'd caught having noisy sex with a male sixth year prefect who was supposed to have been on hallway patrol.

After giving him a stern lecture on what was inappropriate behavior while on duty, and feeling very hypocritical about it, he drilled the Hufflepuff, who had a bit of a loose reputation, on the practical applications of homosexual relations. The resulting information had been enlightening to say the least.

The more information he knew, the more vivid his dreams became. His cock would twitch whenever he would see Flint in the Halls or on the Quidditch field. He would lay on his bed and listen to Oliver rant about the Slytherin, all the while imagining Flint's hands on his body.

He practice the lubrication charms that the Puffy had taught him. And for good measure the clean-up charm, the ward against sexually transmitted diseases and even the contraception charm. The magical world was a strange place, he couldn't risk pregnancy at his age, not with someone like Flint.

Sealed behind his curtains at night he would use his fingers to bring himself off, imagining that it was Marcus doing it. One point the Puffy could not stress more was the importance of proper lubrication and preparation, preparation, preparation. Percy had been horrified at the information he'd found in the libraries' medicinal section about anal tearing. No thank you.

After a week of four well lubed fingers providing nirvana, he was desperate for cock. His chance came one evening when he strode into a swarm of students to break up a fight between the raveclaw beater and one of the slytherin chasers. Flint was there, egging his team mate on. After the two were pulled apart and the crowd dispersed, Percy had stepped up to Flint and said softly,

"A word Captain?"

Flint froze, tilting his head slowly. He waved off his cronies and smirked.

"Is this about the conversation we had the other night Mr. Head Boy sir?"

The gravel of his voice sent a shiver through Percy. Flint grinned.

The door of the abandoned classroom closed with a bang as Flint slammed Percy up against the hard wood, his own hard wood grinding against his front. Flint's kiss was as brutal as his nature and Percy all but melted, caught between a cock and a hard place.

An absent minded flick and swish turned a cobwebbed desk into a large comfortable bed. Flint pushed him towards the bed with a rough "strip for me" . To awkward to do a fancy strip tease number , Percy slowly undressed, folding each garment neatly and placing them on a nearby chair as Marcus looked on hungrily from the bed.

"So proper eh Weaselby? So fuckin' prefect for me."

Percy shook his head, hugging himself as he stood in his skivvies, "Not Perfect. Don't call me that. "

Flint nodded "What do you want me to call you then?" he clasped a pale hand, pulling the slim body to stand between his legs.

Percy bit his lip as calloused hands ran up and down his sides, catching on this underwear and pulling them down his thighs. His cock jutted out, hard and already leaking and he shivered as Flint's hot breath brushed it.

"Call me Iggy. It's short for Ignatius, my middle name"

"Iggy?" Flint pulled Percy down to straddle his still clothes body, cupping pale ass cheeks in his large hands. "Iggs…. I like it."

He squeezed Percy's ass, bringing the redhead closer as he claimed his mouth in another bruising kiss.

"This is a very nice arse Iggy"

"Thank you"

Another squeeze, "Thank you what?"

"Thank you Captain."

"Good boy Iggy… and you know what's so nice about this arse Iggy?"

A blunt fingers slip down to brush over the sensitive pucker, slipping in easily because of the stretching and prepping Percy had done before hand. Percy lets out a groan as a second thick finger slips in.

"W…wha …what's nice about it Captain?" A third finger. Un… so good.

Flint flips Percy unto the bed, shucking his clothes and shoes while Percy writhes on the bed, cheeks flushed and panting.

"What's nice is that fact I get to wreck that tight hole with my cock right now."

The burn of it is indescribable. It's so hot, so good. Like Flint is filling him up until he'll be nothing but a bundle of sensations and desires. His back arched off the bed against the pressure. His legs are hooked over Flint broad shoulder and calloused hands keep his lips from bucking wildly. All of his never endings seem to throb in unison and he keens loudly as Flint's thick cock bottoms out inside him.

His breath seems punched out of him as Flint pulls almost completely out then slams back in with a snap of the hips. A jet of pre-come squirts from Percy's untouched cock as the blunt and heavy head of Flint's cock presses against his prostate. His questing hands are slapped away from his own erection so he twines them into the bedding, anything to hold on as the Slytherin fucks him deep at a steady pace.

All he can produce are wordless moans and panting grunts as the steady drag of the hot length inside of him becomes the sole pinpoint of his existence. All of the constructs he's had built over the years, the rules and regulations, the expectations and the soul crushing pursuit of acclaim and recognition from his brothers, from his parents are all being shaken apart Flint's amazing cock.

Flint leans forward, letting Percy's legs slip to hook around his waist. Bracing his elbows on either side of Percy's head and his feet at the edge of the bed, Flint adjusts his angle, going deeper than ever before. Percy screams, his orgasm hitting him so unexpectedly that his vision whites out.

His body wracks and trembles uncontrollably the waves of ecstasy vibrate through his body. Flint swallows his cries with a long and sloppy kiss, the rhythm of his hips never stopping. By the time Percy blinks the world back into focus, Flint has pulled out. Keening softly from the loss he looks up to see the Slytherin slick, red erection bobbing between his muscular legs.

Large hands gently flip Percy on to his stomach, propping his hips up on pillows and spreading his thighs obscenely wide. His spent erection twitches as it rubs against the soft bedding. He feels a draft against his well fucked hole and shivers. Flint's hands grip his arse cheeks and spread them wide, exposing the swollen pucker, slick with lube and flint's pre come. He feels the blunt head of Flint's cock pushing against it and relaxes as he's plugged to bursting once again.

Soft little mewls tumble from his lips as Flint makes good on his promise of wrecking his poor abused hole. He tried to meet each thrust with a push back, spreading his legs even wider. More, give him more. Harder, he wants it so deep that it takes him a while to realize that he's begging. Full on begging the other Boy to fuck him harder, deeper. Open him up and fill him until nothing else can stay. Make him forget his own name. Own him completely.

Flint's hips stutter and he thrusts deep, his hands leaving bruises on pale hips as he comes and comes, pumping his seed deep inside the redhead. The feeling of that hot cum coating his insides is enough to send Percy into tremors once more, sobbing as the pleasure is almost too much to bear.

He is still trembling when Marcus finally pulls out and collapses next to him on the bed. Gasping for breath, he can only blink dazedly at the dark haired boy, his body still spasming from the mind-blowing fuck Flint had just thrown his way.

Large hands weave through his ginger curls, guiding his mouth to Flint's for another long searching kiss that leaves them both gasping for air.

"Jolly well wrecked you are then Iggz?" that crooked grin, "Got me a Hogwart's legend haven't I then? A Weasley virgin. All nice and stretched from my cock."

Two fingered slip into Percy's sensitive hole and he whimpers as his arse clenches around the probing digits.

"Not so wrecked yet if ye can still tighen' up round me." a third and fourth finger join the others, grazing the prostate and making Percy shudder. "Don't worry Iggz, I'm up for a few more rounds well tonight. I promised I'd wreck this hole and I always keep my promises."

Much, much later in the wee hours of the morning when Percy eventually dragged himself back to his old dorm room. He'd forgone the Head Boy Rooms because he'd wanted to spend as long as he could with Oliver. Stripping off his rumpled robes he kicked them into a pile in the corner, letting the house elves deal with the for once, and padded into the bathroom in his skivvies.

In the bright light of the bathroom, he stood in front of the large mirror staring at the bruises Flint's oafish hands had left upon his pale skin. Handprints littered his hips, arse and parts of his thighs and he shivered, running fingertips over the darkening splotches. His body positively thrummed and the remembered feel of calloused hands dragging on his skin, animal like grunts in his ear, not breath against his neck, bruising kisses against his lips.

He felt wanted, he felt used. He felt owned. For once in his life, he didn't have to be the sensible one, the strong one, the good boy. He'd been desired, wanted, thought fuckable. The feeling was incredible. He wanted more. So much more.

"What the bloody hell Percy?" Oliver's voice echoed loudly through the room, "what happened to you? Who did this? Are you hurt? Do you need Pomphrey? Bloody fucking hell. What it the Slytherins? I'll kill 'em, I'll bloody Murder 'em"

Wood looked murderous, his hands clenched in fists as he stalked up to Percy, eyes glued to the bruising running along the redhead's hips and thighs. He's looks about ready to blow a bloody gasket when Percy lays a calm hand on his pajama clad chest. It is warm and firm and Wood smells so fucking good right now.

"No one hurt me Olly." he sighs, smiling faintly at Wood's confusion.

"If no one …. Then how did you get those…. ?"


Wood frowns"… Bruises"

"oh… these?" Percy pouts, looking up through his eyelashes at the tall Quidditch captain.

He leans in until he's chest to chest with the now still Olliver, putting his mouth against the shell of the other boy's ear. He smiles when he feels a tremor wrack the brunette's body as his soft sweet breath whispers the words...

"I begged for them."



Bags packed, jackets zipped against the nights cold, they trek down a wooded path, Penny holding a lamp aloft in front, the two males carrying a small trunk behind her. Soon they make it to an open field and flip open the trunk. At the bottom lays a length of rope, no different that any other piece of rope except for the fact that Percy had spent a good bit of money to have Hevanas turn it into an untraceable international port key.

Penny hands the lamp to Harry and hugs Percy hard.

"Goodby Perce, take care of yourself."

He hugs her back just as hard.

"Thanks for everything Penn"

She takes the lamp back from Harry and after a hug from him, steps back to the edge of the clearing. Percy takes one last look at her, he will probably never see her again. He's not sure if he'll ever see England again, or his parents or his younger brothers. Magical Britain's future cannot be predicted.

But it wasn't his job to take care of that now. Right now his only job was to see one Harry Potter to the doorstep of one Hermione Granger. And that is what he was going to do.

He picks up the rope, lopping on end securely around Harry's wrist. The other end secures his own. He's spoken to Hevanas at length about port key travel on squibs and had personally witnesses the extra charms needed being placed. It was word activated, not needing a wand but a code word to activate.

With one last wave at Penny, he looked at Harry and at his nod, said the code.

An eternity later they were plopped down in the middle of a deserted road. Groaning they helped each other to their feet, securing their packs and squinting at right headlights that seemed to be coming toward them.

The car rolled to a stop before them, a man stepping out into the shadows thrown by the headlights.

"Pozdravitelni skŭpi Friends" a deep voice rung out in the empty night. "Dobre doshli v Bŭlgariya"

Percy smiled. Right on time.

"Hello Viktor"

Chapter Text

After the cluster fuck that was the tri-wizard tournament with one Hogwarts student dead, Barty Crouch Sr. dead, his 'crazy as a bag of cats' son walking around wearing Mad eye Moody's face then escaping, Karkaroff missing, and Potter bearing mind blowing news that Voldemort was back, live and direct from hell, it had fallen on Percy's shoulders to run damage control with the foreign ministries while Fudge spun his tops in mud, trying to make the world believe that the 'boy who lived to survive another day' was a raving lunatic.

It had been a trial by fire as Percy had to deal with not only the two other tournament schools but the countries they represented. With Harry in the infirmary and Diggory being put in the ground, only Krum and Delacour remained of the competitors. At first they hadn't known what to think of him but after weeks of complicated hoop jumping and diplomacy maneuvers, Percy had managed to restore some good, in some cases only neutral relations with the foreign nations and prevented an ugly international incident. Near the end Madame Maxime would pet his head fondly, giving him looks from the corner of her eyes as if she wanted to adopt him and keep him as a pet back in France.

He'd kept in touch with both Viktor and Fleur since the Tri Wizard Tourney, both of them becoming diplomatic ambassadors for their countries after graduating. It was during one of Fleur's visits to Percy's office at the ministry that he'd introduced her to Bill who'd just come back from assignment for Gringott's. The Veela had taken one look at the tall red head curse breaker with his long vibrant hair and dragon tooth earring and had fallen hard. Bill had fared no better.

Viktor rose to new heights on quidditch fame, trading letters with both Hermione and Percy over the years. He'd saved Percy's professional skin one time by providing hard to get tickets in order for Fudge to impress some big wig or another. Percy in turn had gotten the Bulgarian Muggle Foreign Minister into a last minute meeting with the Muggle British Prime Minister by calling in a few favours.

As Percy sat in the wide back seat of Viktor's Rolls Royce Ghost, outfitted in the cream, scarlet and blood red of the Bulgarian National Quidditch team, listening to Viktor and Harry as they chatted jovially up front, he let his mind drift, dozing lightly as the car rocked gently.

A touch on his shoulder snapped him awake. They were at Viktor's summer cabin on Zhrebchevo Dam, small and comfortable and far enough from any other development to be private. He checked with Harry, making sure he was comfortable and that his levels were holding.

The portkey had screwed with them a little but Percy ran through the exercises with him according to the book Dr. Thompson had lent him when what was left of Harry's Magical core finally manifested itself. He'd read it so many times that he'd memorized it by now, able to pull any bit of it from memory as he dared not keep the rare tome for too long.

if anyone in the magical community caught wind of what Potter had become, what he had the potential to be; Percy shuddered at the thought. They would have squirreled Potter into the infamous Department of Mysteries, to be studied, tested and finally dissected, never to see the light of day again.

There hadn't been one like Harry in the Magical world for centuries. Even the book Thompson had lent him was written by a muggle, one Blair Sandburg- an American and one half of a functional pair. An actual bonded, fully functioning pair. Merlin's Hairy Balls, didn't the Americans even know what they had?

After letting Harry do a sensory check around the small building and scent and heart beat profile of himself and an amused Viktor, Percy was finally able to settle the boy into one of the guest bedrooms where Harry fell asleep within minutes.

Percy yawned as he walked out into the small common area, shucking his coat and accepting the cup of cocoa Viktor pressed into his chilled hands. He was tired, exhausted even. They'd been travelling non stop for a while now and it was taxing. Add onto that all of the plans and details and worries that bounced around Percy's head like those damned office memos.

Usually when he felt like this, he'd find Flint and forget the world for a while. He would feel lighter after, almost rejuvenated. But he couldn't go to Marcus anymore, not for six months and some and the world seemed to grate against his awareness like sand paper.

He needed something… he just needed. Period.

"You are anxious skŭp priyatel. You worry for Harry. You worry your ministry hunts you even now. But you too must rest moya plamŭk. You are safe now. I will guard you as you sleep. "

Viktor's breath was hot against his neck. Percy shivered. Large hands come up to rub at Percy's folded arms and he melted into the solid chest behind him. Viktor had matured into a bear of a man, thick corded muscles flexed under his tailored clothes. His voice had deepened, his movements confident and graceful beyond what was expected of a man his size.

"So tense malŭk, you will surely hurt yourself if you keep like this" one hand slips down to rest on his hip. "...When was the last time you got taken down?"

Percy mewls softly, pressing back into the solid heat, his words a whisper, "Too long."

Viktor grabs his chin gently, turning to claim Percy's lips in a hot demanding kiss.

"Then come, moya plamŭk, come and let me give you what you need."

They forego the silencing charm. Harry is grounding off of their heart beats so they bite back on the noises that want to slip out as they undress each other in the master bedroom. Viktor's bed is large as he is large and Percy sinks into the cool sheets as Viktor settles between his legs. The read head squirms under the delicious weight as Viktor holds the back of his head with a large hand.

As Krum explores his hot wet mouth with his tongue, Percy runs his hands all over the Bulgarian's hairy body, dragging his blunt nails over the bulging biceps and the broad back. A large tattoo dominated Krum's right shoulder, a large serpent writhing upon itself. On his left arm was the National Quidditch team logo sprawled in sharp black lines. Percy writhed a bit impatiently, rubbing his weeping erection against Krum's thigh.

"Patience malka ptichka," teeth nipped at Percy's neck, making him gasp. "All in good time"

Viktor's hands and lips explored Percy's pale body, searching for and finding all the little spots that made him shake and shiver, pressing the pillow to his mouth to stifle his cries. Every nerve ending and erogenous zone and Flint had been too impatient to find, that Penny had been conservative to look for, Viktor found and manipulated until Percy was a quivering mess on the verge of orgasm.

Tears spilled from the corner of his eyes as the larger man proceeded to take him apart until he was nothing but his want, his need. Just as he tipped over the edge of ecstasy, Viktor surged up and swallowed him whole, deep throating his cock to the root. The red head bucked off the bed with a soundless cry, his breath wrung out of him as he came into that sucking heat.

Sweet merciful Gaia, he'd missed this so much. He collapsed back unto the bed in a daze, boneless and gasping. Krum's rough tongue licked him clean, large strong hand turning him over gently. He distantly hears Krum murmuring a cleansing charm and jumps a little when magic hits his arse. His cheeks a spread apart and he shivers at the draft. A large thumb brushes against the pucker, making Percy's body jerk.

A tongue soon replaces the thumb and he had to bite hard into the pillow to keep from screaming. No one had ever done this to him before. Something so close, so intimate that sent shockwaves through his entire body. He becomes aware that he is babbling softly, stringing nonsensical words together in between begging for more.

He is writhing helplessly against the sheets when Krum finally stops and he feels bereft at the loss. He keens, having lost the use of language a while ago. The cool sensation of the Lubricus spell had him curling his toes in anticipation. Gods yes, put that gorgeous cock in him. Fill him up completely, he needs it so badly.

Thick but careful fingers stretch him slowly and he pushes back against them, needing things to go faster. Viktor places a large hand on the small of his back.

"ne mŭrdaĭ, krasiv plamŭk" Krum's voice is deep gravel. "Be still."

A pillow is slipped under his hips and Percy spreads his legs in response. Krums breath stutters as english seems to leave him completely. Hands grasp his cheeks, parting them.

"tolkova krasiva…" a blunt cock head presses gently against his entrance, "...tolkova shiban krasiva."

Viktor cock is thicker that Flint's and the head pops passed the tight ring of muscle with a pop and a groan from them both. Slowly, ever so slowly Krum guides Percy's hips back unto his shaft, inch after inch disappearing into Percy's tight wet heat, pulling the redhead up and back until he is seated fully upon the brunette's crotch, hands keeping pale hips impaled fully.

Percy gives a breathy gasp as Krum bottoms out, every inch of his thick shaft throbbing in beat with Percy's heart. Tremors wrack his frame as if someone had hooked up electricity deep within his belly. After what seemed like an eternity, large hands guide his hips up and down, the pace slowly building until the redhead was riding that cock with wild abandon, the only sounds in the room the slick slap of flesh and harsh grunting breaths.

Krum guides him forward until the side of his face is against the soft sheets and his arse is up in the air. He arches his back into the hard fucking, spreading his knees and pushing back, hungry for more. And Krum gives him more, long brutal thrusts that have him crying out, short jack hammer fucking that have his eyes rolling back in head.

Orgasm wrenches a loud wail from him that Krum swiftly swallows with a deep kiss, his mouth minty cool from a hastily cast, wandless, cleansing charm; his own hips stuttering until Viktor makes one final deep thrust, shooting wad upon endless wad of hot seed deep into Percy's gut.

When Krum finally pulls his softening cock from within Percy, the redhead can do nothing but lay upon the cum stained sheets and pant, trembling as Krum cleans hem both with a warm cloth. The feel of the rough terrycloth against his skin is soothing and he falls into a deep sleep feeling loved and cared for.

He sleeps for ten hours straight and feels like a new man when he wakes, more relaxed and his mind much clearer. Viktor and Harry are having a late brunch and chatting and as Percy sits, he is grateful that Viktor's chairs have added cushioning charms. Harry reports on his levels dutifully and admits that he slept like the dead but Percy catches him smirking behind his coffee cup so he doesn't completely believe him.

They shower and dress, checking their bags. Viktor kisses him stupid and offers to do a small healing charms on his sore arse. Percy wants to savour the ache but he knows that he can't indulge in that while he still had Harry to think of so he says yes.

The three of them traipse through a nearby wood until they come to a small silver pond. Toadstools and small fairy lights circle the pond but in the light of day they seem dull and rotted. Percy knows that it is a glamour, he knows how powerful this place is.

"What is this?" Harry murmurs.

"prikazni porti" Viktor's deep rumble had Percy flushing, "… the fairy gates."

"The fairies have them all over the world. They link to each other and provide a way for the fairy court and others to travel great distances while in the mortal realm." Percy lectured.

Potter made a face then grinned "Wow thanks. Just got a flashback of Hermione there, Professor Westerly sir."

Percy flushed deeper. "Brat"

Krum gives them both hugs goodbye, Percy's lingering a bit longer that normal. Lifting his chin with a gloved hand, Krum kisses him almost senseless.

"se grizhi blagorodni mi plamŭk" Hot breath against the shell of Percy's ear makes his cock twitch.

With that goodbye, Viktor begins that chant that will guide their journey and take them through to the other side safely. Percy grasps Harry's hand tightly and they exchange a look before taking a running jump into the middle of the silver pond.

The water is freezing cold and lights flash in the depths as they kick back toward the surface. Percy splashes to the surface with a gasp, trying to draw air back into his tortured lungs as Harry splashed wildly near by. The redhead flails toward him desperately, throat convulsing too much to even call the boy's name. Hands grab at him and he struggles against them. He needs to get to Harry. He hears curses muttered above him and he is dragged unto the rocky shore.

He is pulled non too gently to his feet and plopped in front of a blazing fire, shoulder to shoulder with a shivering and dazed Harry. Their eyes meet and Harry eventually nods at his searching gaze. Levels ok. No spikes, no zones. He'd researched the fairy gates' affect on squibs thoroughly but he could never be too careful. Harry was no ordinary squib. Percy breathes a sigh of relief finally taking the time to look around him.

A figure stands on the other side of the fire, a deep hood shadowing the face in spite of the fire's glow. They are on the shore of a rocky inlet, stark mountain faces rising around them. It seems a dismal place, harsh and unforgiving. On one of the mountains a large face had been carved by the Dacian people of their King Decebalus if he recalled correctly, which was probably likely. His eyes are drawn back to the hooded figure as it spoke, moving to pull back the hood.

"You want to tell me what was so important and secret that I had to sneak out to the middle of the Romanian wilds to fish you and Harry bloody Potter out of the fucking Danube Perce?"

A rugged face, framed by familiar red curls and a full beard, scowls dreadfully at him but all he can do is grin.

"Hello Charlie"

Chapter Text

Charlie sputters indignantly as Percy glomps him, laughing. He's cold and wet from his dunk in the river but he's never been happier. His older brother is solid muscle, smelling of smoke and the pungent aroma of the Indian plums the dragons love to gobble up. The rough dragon hide of his cloak warm against Percy's cheek as his brother's arm wrap around him. He wasn't seen Charlie since boxing day last year when they'd met up with Bill for awkward drinks at the Ram's Head.

"I missed you Harley" Percy whispers as his eyes tear up, falling back to his childhood name for his second oldest brother. He'd missed his family like burning, the strained relationship with his siblings hurting him deeply over the years.

Charlie startles then hugs Percy tighter. He buries his nose in the younger man's shorn curls. "Missed you too Porky"

It's a while before he can step away, wiping at his eyes with the end of his jacket sleeve. Both Charlie's and Harry's eyes shine wetly in the light of the blazing fire, coughing and blinking rapidly as the high emotions dissipate in the crisp night air.

After they are toasty dry, the bearded weasley brought out two thick cloaks and they doused the fire. A short walk along the mountain trail led them to an empty compound, squat stone buildings dotted around a large rocky crevice.

"This is where we keep the nesting females" Charlie explained as he led them to one of the smaller buildings. A fire blazed in the hearth and a pot of hearty broth bubbled merrily. After seeing Harry installed near the fire with a cup of fragrant broth in hand, Percy followed Charlie into the small ante room where two bundles of clothes lay wrapped in a small trunk.

"What's going on Porky?" Charlie sighed as Percy hugged him tightly once again, "I haven't heard hide nor hair from Mom and Dad since Ginny's death. I couldn't even come to the funeral, it was chaos at the borders and they wouldn't verify my magical citizenship. The twins' letters are vague as ever and Bill says Gringotts has clamped down on much of their business in the British isles. Then out of the blue I get a letter from you to arrange all this? what the bloody hell is going on over there?"

Words tumble haltingly from Percy's lips into his brother's chest and there, standing safe in his Harley's arms he tells him everything that's happened in the past six months and some. He sags against his brother when he is done, soaking in the feeling of security only family can provide. He's always been the been the one making plans, watching out for danger, taking care of things for so long with no one to truly turn to, no one to take the reins for just a little while.

His parents are lost to him at Hogwarts, the twins could never be trusted fully not to use his weaknesses against him for their own amusement, Ron was wrapped up in himself and couldn't be anyone's friend right about now. Ginny… sweet sassy Ginny who was always such a great listener, even when she thought her older brother was being a utter twat, well... she wasn't there to comfort anyone anymore.

Over his own bowl of broth, he silently listens as Harry and Charlie chat and laugh about happier times, content and warmed through completely by the happily crackling fire and the good company. Reluctantly they prepare for the next leg of their journey, donning the simple hooded robes that can pass for muggle coats when worn open over their shirts and trousers.

With full bellies and full back packs strapped to their backs, they follow Charlie as he lead them up through a narrow mountain pass unto a large plateau where two large dragons stand, surrounded by a number of men and women.

"It's the annual Run of the Ka-en-ankh Nereru." Charlie explained as they watched the handlers strap the great serpents to some sort of swinging canopy suspended between them. "The great four legged Dragons of Egypt are more docile than most, the pharoahs having reared them for thousands of years.

They have a stone embedded in their brains called the Dracontias which allows them to fly great distances within a short time. Every year they make the trip up from Egypt to use the breeding pits, our are the only ones that have the right conditions for breeding. The time has come for the return and I've secured berth for you both."

Harry's eyes are wide for the next couple hours, grinning widely and almost jumping out of his skin with excitement as they assist with the preparations, well assit in schleping items for the handlers and staying far away from curious dragon snouts.

The handlers ignore them for the most part, acknowledging Charlie and accepting Percy and Harry's presence as if an everyday occurrence. Soon they are ready for take off and Percy hugs his brother hard once again, vowing to work hard at keeping this closeness between them.

He brushes off a stray tear as he watches the bearded man hug Harry and tells him not to be a stranger. Harry laughs and promises he wont be. The sight of the large golden dragon taking flight is breath taking and he and harry grin at each other as the beat of massive wings takes them higher and higher into the sky.

They wave at Charlie until he is a speck against the mountains and hunker down into their berths, pulling their hoods and thick scarves up to cover their faces and heads against the bitterly cold wind.

He runs harry through his exercises diligently and lays back to take a nap in his hammock as Harry makes his way to the helm of the suspended vessel where handlers use ropes and signals to steer the dragons true.

The sun is rising over the great pyramids when the helmsman forewarns their descent. Landing is rough and Percy almost takes a tumble if not for Harry's quick thinking and strong grip on his pack. They wave hearty goodbye to the dragon handlers, taking last looks at the dragons, gleaming rich gold in the morning sun.

The market in Cairo is bustling and full of sights and sounds and smells and Percy spends most of his time watching Harry for Sensory spikes and being alert for any hidden danger. He can feel the magic that had saturated into every stone and grain of sand in Egypt, the centuries of magical lives come and gone, of wizard and muggle blood alike spilled and soaked into the sand makes the air dense and heady with power.

They weave their way through the city, catching an old and rickety local bus which trundles along the wide dusty ring road towards Giza. He glances over at Harry, sitting smushed between two old women, holding a frazzled and somewhat confused looking chicken in his lap while the women chatter and share the local snack of Lebb or roasted water melon seeds. He looked happy, high colour in his cheeks as he charms the two ladies' socks off.

Reassured, Percy lets his mind drift, the sun warm and bright on his face as the old bus rumbles and sputters toward their destination. It is so far from the cold chill of England, the growing darkness that nibbled at the edge of their existence there.

From the poison voldemort had spread through every walk of magical life to the deep gnawing vacuum left by his abrupt departure. So different from the night six months ago and some when his boring, joyless life had taken a tumble off the rails but good.


Flint had been especially tense, his jaw set with a permanent frown even as Percy worshipped his cock with an eager tongue. He was dressed in all black leather, complete with buttery soft gloves that touched Percy's swollen lips almost reverently as they stretched around Flint's heavy cock.

He grunted at the redhead to strip completely before settling into the large arm chair that dominated the corner of the dingy room. His eyes devoured inch and after inch of pale skin as Percy disrobed, sticking for long seconds on each fading bruise. Percy always did any preparation himself so he wasted no time in climbing into Flint's lap and lowering himself unto the thick shaft with a sigh. For a few moments he sat perfectly still, his hands braced against the chair while he clenched around the throbbing flesh.

Marcus sat absolutely still, his gloved hands gripping the chair's arms hard enough to make the frame underneath creak. The cool leather of Flint's outfit made imprints in Percy's soft skin as he rose and sunk with stuttering breaths, rolling his hips as he fucked himself completely on that hot and heavy cock.

The only sound in the small flat was their steady breaths and the soft wet sounds of slow fucking. Time seemed to become meaning less as Percy closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation of being utterly and completely filled.

A soft "Captain" fell from his lips and at Flint's nod, Percy leaned forward to sample that stern mouth, nibbling against stubborn lips and set jaw line. Flint's mouth was hot and wet as Percy explored it leisurely, and tasted like fire whiskey and the chocolates covered cherries Marcus secretly loved but would never admit to eating.

The redhead nipped at the skin just below Flint's ear and smirked when the man jumped with a hiss. Dark eyes caught his in warning and he ground his ass against the leather clad lap, rolling slow deep circles that had the thick cock rubbing against all the right places. His breath deepened and he moaned continuously as he increased the pace, his hips and legs pumping faster, the slick shaft slipping in and out of his hole like a piston.

Suddenly Marcus tensed under him, not like he did before he came but a full body stiffening as if from a body bind charm. Percy barely had time to blink before the dark haired man bucked wildly in the chair, strong hands grasping at Percy's hips and yanking him off the engorged cock and throwing him to the ground where he sat dazed, his own erection painfully hard and weeping unto his stomach.

"What the fuck Flint?" he growled as Flint dropped to his knees with a pained yell, buckling in on himself, forehead pressed to the dirty rug.

Percy slowly reached towards the trembling back as Flint made pined sounds that frightened him to his very soul. Just as his fingertips brushed against the leather coat, Flint reared up with a roar, clutching at his dark mark under the long leather sleeve and sending Percy scuttling backwards into the corner.

The next half an hour was the very worst of Percy's young life as he watched his lover scream and writhe on the floor of their secret flat, Flint's tortured screams echoing off the walls fortified by silencing charms. He sat in the corner, trembling as Flint ripped the sleeves of his cloak, clawing at the mark until his arms and under his fingernails were slick with blood. As blood seeped from his ears and he cried tears of black blood. As his body twisted itself like a pretzel, breaking bones in his arms and legs and face as he beat himself upon the floor.

After what seemed like forever Flint finally stilled, his body crumpled in a twisted heap as he moaned out a last weak breath then fell silent. Tears fell from Percy's eyes as he trembled violently, weeping as he stared at the body, unable to move and muscle from where he was tucked into the corner. He pressed his hand over his mouth to catch the noise as he sobbed heavily, a freezing cold sinking into his body at the trauma of what he'd just seen.

It takes him almost two hours to uncurl himself from his position, his limbs both heavy and weak as he has to crawl passed the body of what used to be Flint to get to where his own robes are folded. His hands shake so much that it takes him three times a long to get himself dressed, pushing the blinding panic he's feeling deep down until he can think clearly. He has to be smart about this.

His mind races as his eyes dart wildly around the room, searching for any clue or hint that would tie him here. There was none. The sole purpose of the room had been a meeting place for him and Flint to fuck like rabbits anonymously. Everything had been paid up front in cash by third parties. Nothing that could be traced back to either of them.

After a last check of the room and a cursory look at the body, he dare not touch the corpse lest he breakdown completely, he spins on his heel and apparatus to the local park just two blocks from his apartment. From there he apparates two more times, each to public muggle public places and then finally to his small apartment.

He tugs off his clothes tiredly and kicks them into a corner, throwing his wand on tip the pile as he staggers into the small shower. The hot water does nothing at all to warm the chill that had settled into his heart and his breath hitches in his chest. Soon he is sobbing harshly under the spray, keening as he pulls at his hair and falls to his knees.

The water has run cold and when he stumbles from the bath to his single bed. Shivering from more than just the cold he buries himself under the thick tartan fleece Penny had gifted him for his birthday just before they broke up.

Words press against the inside of his ribcage, threatening to burst out of his chest and kill him and tears run down his face unheeded, falling and soaking into his pillow. Sleep eludes him for the rest of the night and he sees Flint's twisting body every time he closes his eyes, hears the terrible screams slipped from between crooked teeth.

When he finally drags himself into the work the next day, because he can't NOT go to work the next day, he hears about the great fall and the pieces click into place. The dark mark. Voldemeort ripping the magic from his marked followers, ripping their lives away in the process. The boy who lived is in a magical coma, half of Wizarding Britain's power base was dead and what was left was scrambling blindly.

He leaves Fudge's office in a daze, the Minster screaming fire and brimstone at his remaining departments heads until he is purple in the face, walks quietly down the deathly quirt ministry halls, sits in his cramped office with his ridiculous reports and trembles.


The bus rumbles to a stop with a loud rattle and bang, waking Percy from his doze. The city of Giza is large and crowded and filled with street vendors that sell the most delicious food. He and harry wonder the city, purchasing a trinket or two before side stepping into the magical section of the market.

The stalls and their wares get more strange, the clientele that wander between the booths more colourful and exotic until the pair are standing in front of familiar doors. the writing maybe in Egyptian standard but the words of warning are the same at every Gringott's bank.

The great hall of the goblin bank is light and airy compared to it's English counterpart, beams of sunlight reflected by large copper mirrors. He hands a sealed letter to the nearest teller and within minutes they are ushered into posh offices. The head goblin Khopesh Senef or Blooded Sword, waves them to sit as he rereads the letter and scowls at them.

His beady eyes narrow in on Harry's forehead, where the famous lightning bolt scar has faded almost completely, making the young man fidget in his seat. The air in the room becomes increasingly oppressive until the door opens wide, a regal blonde sweeping into the room, exchanging greetings with the sneering goblin and quickly ushering them into a waiting car out side.

As the relax against the cushioned seats, the cool air of the car a vast difference to the heat on the street outside, the blonde unpins her hat and takes it off, revealing a stunning beauty.

"Ello 'arry, 'ello Percy" she smiles.

"Hello Fleur" they grin back.

The sun waxes in the sky as they seems to fly across the sandy dunes until they reach an encampment. Lanterns shine like soft balls of light against the approaching twilight and the Veela leads them through the veritable tent city and slip inside. Percy stops Harry for a moment with a hand on his shoulder and gets an eye roll. Levels fine mum, the still hazel orbs say playfully and Percy nods and steps into the tent.

Strong arms sweep him into and crushing hug as someone laughs into his hair. He relaxes completely, ignoring Fleur's and Harry's laughter as he's picked up off his feet and swung around.

When he's set on terra firma once again he blinks up cheekily into bright blue eyes.

"'lo Bill." he smiles.

Chapter Text

Bill's magical tent is cool and airy against the heat of the desert and the boys eagerly fall upon a dinner of Beide Hamine and Bram rice with Hamam Mahshi, fresh Tehina salad followed by sweet Bouzat haleeb prepared by Fleur's house elf, Bichette. The conversation is light as Percy and Harry regale the others with tales of their travels,

Bill's guffaws and Fleur's tinkling laughter filling the tent at the adventures of Professor Iggy Westerly and his wayward ward Harrison James. As the moon rises over the dunes, Feur takes Harry on a walk around the compound leaving Bill and Percy to talk over thick and foamy turkish coffee.

Percy leaned back into the comfortable rattan chair as Bill went through the motions of preparing the dark brew. Slowly, in soft halting words Percy confessed to his older brother everything about Flint, the time at Hogwarts, the illicit meetings and the horrifying death, keeping his eyes solely on Bill's nut brown hands as he almost tipped the small brewing pot over, fine tremor in the fingers the only reaction to the sordid tale.

The coffee bubbles in silence as they sit. Percy can't seem to bring his eyes up to meet his brother's but he just couldn't keep it in anymore. The terrible secret had been lodged in his breast bone for so long, pressing against his heart like a stone and he couldn't bear the weight of it anymore. His eldest brother was the only one Percy could tell this horrible thing to, to share this darkness that was eating away at his soul.

He braced himself as Bill slowly stood, coming around the table to squat at Percy's side. Gently fingers tilt his chin up and he blinks back tears. The eldest Weasley boy's blue eyes are sad and kind and something cold and brittle shatters inside Percy keens softly as warm rough hands caress his cheek and a soft kiss is presses to his forehead.

The young redhead slumps into his big brother's arms, sobbing with sheer relief that the man does not hate him for what he's done, the mistakes he's made. Grateful that he doesn't hold him to the impossible standards he'd held himself to, that he can be just Percy… the imperfect, the flawed… the human.

They kneel together on the floor of the tent until the coffee has boiled to sludge and Fleur and Harry return from walkabout. Percy can't even bring himself to wipe the tear tracks from his face because he knows these people are the ones who accept him at his worst, that an look at his true face and still love him. He looks into Fleur's and Harry's and sees only affection and acceptance and his heart swells. This is his family, these are his people.

The night passes with conversation and laughter and the sweet scent of spiced tea. They sleep deeply on pull out cots and breakfast on flat bakes, hummus, fresh fruit and dates boiled in syrup. They kiss Fleur farewell and travel by Camel to the an unmarked ruin out in the desert.

He leads them through a secret passage to a large underground cavern, teeming with goblins and other magical creatures. Egyptian wizards with their flowing white robes, djinns grouped in corners, their colourful outfits threaded with gold and jewels. A team of goblins were unpacking a shipment of flying carpets as another group instructed a hulking troll to load large boxes unto a waiting platform.

"This is the Kwyviixle Badxik Lyzqetwex Underdeep Passage." Bills throat rattles over the guttural, rumbling syllables. "It runs from Morocco straight down through to the Horn of Africa, carrying goods and passengers. The borders above ground are too tightly controlled by muggles, the skies to unpredictable for goblin fancy. So they went under ground. Goblins are diggers by nature."

He gestures to the high ceilings of the cavern, lit by lamplight and the familiar copper mirrors that illuminated the gigantic space. Giant stalactites hang from the ceiling, braced with metal rings and chains that ran lights and other lines from one end of the cavern to the next. The bases of what were probably once huge stalagmites have been ground down to serve as wide platforms.

"Africa is the cradle of life and the magic here has seeped deep within the earth, down to the very bedrock. The goblin nations spent centuries digging the tunnel then laying down tracks. The protection runes alone took thousands of rune master decades to carve and align. It's a miracle of goblin innovation that even the wizarding world knows very little about."

A old and grizzly goblin sneers at them as he fastens a thin gold band on their wrists, charmed and almost glowing with runes for safe passage past the various check points and security measures sure to be found along the way. Bill sees them to passenger car, hugging them both and kissing Percy on the forehead once again as he squeezes him tighter.

The car is filled with all manner of magical being and they just manage to find two seats together, easing their way passed two vampires, a minotaur and a group of Empusae in their rare human form, their brass feet clumping as they chattered. The other passengers finally settle as the gongs chime departure and soon they were off with a loud clanking and grinding of large metal wheels against the tracks.

Hours pass as they rumble along, the two young men chatting, playing cards games, reading and dozing to pass the time, every hour getting up to walk the aisles to stretch their legs. Harry struck up a conversation with a wizard keeping a small sassy boomslang and soon he and the snake as well as the snake's owner were engrossed in riveting conversation that Percy only heard as non stop hissing.

Towards the end of the trip Harry starts lagging, his levels fluctuating after being underground for so long. They spend the last couple of hours before reaching the Ivory Coast stop with Harry slumped in Percy's lap, the redhead's fingers carding though his hair, murmuring nonsense in a steady voice.

He helps harry stagger weakly from the train to sit in the airy platform that led to the surface. They drink a bitter tasting mulled cider that is passed around to the disembarking passengers to combat pressure sickness from being so deep for so long and in no time at all are stepping out, squinting into the bright sunlight of Abidjan city.

Under Harry's skeptical eye Percy rents an off road jeep from an ex-pat muggleborn he knows through from his trek through the Amazon that years last year. Prichard was a scarred, fifty something year old man with wide grin missing at least four of his teeth. He passes Percy a small vial, the antidote to the glamour potion Harry took in England.

They load up with food, water, extra gasoline and other necessities and change into light clothes and durable boots. They take the coastal road down to San Pedro, marveling at the sparkling blue waters of the coast and the colourful people that fill the towns that line it. They pull to the side of a deserted jungle road and Harry throws back the potion, grimacing as it goes down. Ten minutes later the once again black haired, green eyes boy grins at him from the passenger seat.

They stop for food at a small cozy café and Harry carefully pulls out a small oilskin pouch he's kept on a string around his neck. With nimble fingers he withdraws a scrap of paper, carefully unfolding it to reveal Dr. Thompson's familiar scrawl. It's an address, provided by Doctors Without Borders, where one Dr. Bertram Granger and his wife Dr. Emmaline Vance Granger operate their Dental surgery for the good people of Africa.

For sixth months and some the Ministry has been searching for the Grangers as a way to get to their daughter to no avail. No tracking charm would work, no scrying ritual would succeed, Fudge had been apoplectic at the utter failure. All it had taken Doc Baldy was one phone call to a friend and DWB and they had the address. Percy chuckled, sitting back and sipping his tea as Harry ran reverent finger tips over the inked words.

They turn inwards into the heart of the country, marveling at the jungle wilds and the friendly people. As the grow closer to their destination, Harry gets more nervous and they spend the drive doing exercises and talking the golden trio's adventures at Hogwarts to keep him settled.

The jeep rolls to a stop at the edge of a clearing, about a hundred metres or so from a smattering of buildings near a small river. Local people mill around, talking and laughing, washing clothes in the river while children run and play. Local staff flitter from one patient to another, guiding people into and out of a small clinic.

Out of one of the side buildings steps a girl dressed a simple shift dress made from the local brightly patterned cloth, her frizzy hair piled a top her head in a messy bun. Harry freezes completely as the girl walks along, greeting people and laughing as the children run and jump around her. She puts down the basket she holding and huffs out a breath, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She brings her hands up to her eyes, watching the birds fly from the trees. When she looks down again is when she sees them, sitting in the jeep and she stills.

Harry hisses a deep breath, slowly unbuckling his seat belt and slipping from the jeep. They stare as each other for an eternity before she is running toward him. He takes a few stumbling steps forward and within seconds they are in each other's arms, crying and laughing with complete and utter joy.


It's night of the last quidditch game of the year and the party in Gryffindor house is still in full swing when Percy stumbles in. With the Lion house snatching the house cup from under slytherin noses for yet another year, Flint had been in read form tonight. He'd worked Percy over with such an intensity and single mindedness that it as all the head boy could do but cling to the dark haired captain as he was fucked thoroughly.

As they both lay panting on the twisted sheets Percy knew that this would be the last time. NEWTS were over. He had gotten a letter from Minister Fudge himself, talking about an internship at the Ministry of Magic. He'd been practically giddy when he'd received it. No teasing from his younger siblings could dampen hi mood as he made a copy and sent it post haste by owl to his parents.

Penny had been pleased and had even let him push two fingers into her tight heat and hand clung to him and kissed him as he brought her off. Then she'd used her hand on him and blushed brightly as he came all over her fingers. She'd already been accepted into a research position in the department of Magical Education and he was pleased that their vocations suited each other's futures.

Flint was heading to the dark mark, or some more nefarious lifestyle, Percy was sure. He wasn't a good enough natural player to make it professional, not like Oliver was. Unless he got second string on some small team, Flint's quidditch career was over.

They'd dressed in silence, exchanging one last scorching kiss before Flint slipped out the door with a "Later Iggz"

When he was gone and Percy had put the room once again to rights, he slipped out into the hallway with a coy smile to himself that lasted as he meandered the halls until he reached the dorms. After fighting his way through the chaos that was the Gryffindor end-of-year bash, he sighed deeply as he closed his dorm room door and leaned against it. Marcus had left delicious bruises along hips and thighs tonight and they burned so good. He let out a small chuckle, running his fingers through his ginger curls.

"Goodbye Captain." he murmured into the quiet.

"So it was him then?" a voice from the darkness made Percy jump, "…it was Flint all this time."

Percy's wand was in his hand. "Lumos"

Olliver wood sat in the heavy armchair in the corner of the room. His face a thundercloud in the half shadows. He was still in his quidditch gear, his prized broom across his knees. As Percy stared, Wood's fists tightened around the shaft of the broom just as his jaw tightened into a frown.

After his heart rate calmed, Percy sighed, walking to the bed and stripping off his robe.

"If you must know…" he drawled, "yes. It was Marcus all this time."

"So Marcus is it now? You're on first names with that snake?"

"Actually …" Percy smirked, pulling off his white shirt, "… I'm only allowed to call him Captain when we're fucking."

He chuckles at Oliver's hiss, not particularly caring if it's because of the name thing or because of the spectacular bruising on his hips shaped like large hands. He can hear the sound of leather gloves grinding against broomstick and is secretly pleased. He kicks off his trousers, leaving him in only the small silk boxers he wore just for tonight. Boy, had Flint enjoyed taking it off of him, he was surprised it hadn't been ripped completely in the process.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Wood ground out through clenched teeth. "How could you let him keep hurting you?"

"Let him?" Percy's voice was sharp, startling Wood. "… I don't LET him do anything to me. I'm not some abused ickle virgin or some love sick fool. This wasn't a relationship. This was fucking, and spectacular fucking at that. Don't try to make it out like he forced me to do anything. I asked for everything he gave me...I went in with my eyes open."

"And the bruises?" Olliver's voice was soft.

"… were what I wanted." the redhead stated flatly. "End of discussion."

Wood sets the broom aside and comes to stand near to Percy, eyes glued to the bite mark on the back of one of Percy's creamy thighs. He runs a hand over his face, looking tired.

"I just… I just don't under stand. Why HIM of all people? Couldn't you have picked anyone else?"

"He could give me what I wanted." Percy tilted his head to the side. "besides, my first choice wasn't an option anyway."

"For the love of Merlin why Perce? Why didn't you go for the first choice?." Wood fumed, hands gripped in his wild brown hair. Percy stared at him for a few seconds.

"Because you're straight Oliver, that's why."

He drops that dung bomb at Wood's feet and turns to ward the bathroom. Before he can get two steps, hands grab him and spin him around, pulling him flush against Wood's hard body. Lips crush against his and a questing tongue makes him melt, parting his lips as his crush snogs him silly. When they pull apart, panting, Percy opens his mouth to speak but Oliver shushes him by kissing him again.

"What is this Ollie?" Percy gasps as they part once more. "Is this some sort of revenge on Flint? You already won the House cup and quidditch cup. What more is there?"

"You!" the word seems torn from Wood's lips. "you were MY friend first, MY room mate all these years. How can I win at everything and still lose you…. To HIM! To Flint! That snake fucker? If anyone should have been there for you if should have been me! it's unfair."

Percy pushed Wood away with a frown.

"I am not a thing Ollie, not a prize to be won. Who I fuck or don't fuck I my business alone. For all the time I've known you I've never seen you look at anything but girls. You would go on and on about tits and pussy until I sorely wanted to but a bubble head silence charm on you. If you'd shown the slightest bit of interest in me I would have been on your cock so fast you'd have to see Madam Pomphrey for chafing, we'd have been fucking so much."

He relaxes as Olliver chuckles. He pats Oliver on the chest fondly. "So stop being such a twat Olly, that's my job description remember?"

Woods arms tighten around his waist, one gloved hand coming down to cup his arse cheek, giving it a squeeze.

"Is that enough of interest for you?"

Percy frowns. "what do you think you are doing? You're straight Olliver."

Wood rubs his erection against Percy's hip "My cock doesn't seem to think so."

Seconds tick by and Percy stares at his room mate until Wood flushes and looks away.

"Let me do this Perce…please" he whispers hoarsely. "… for us both? I can't stop thinking about you…"

Wood presses a soft kiss on Percy's cheek, slowly kissing his way down to a pale shoulder.

"Your skin, your lips, your gorgeous hair, the way you chew on your quill when you concentrate. I see you talking to the other prefects about some prefect shit in the great hall and I burn for you. Please Percy, this is out last chance maybe, you're off to the Ministry and I'm to the circuit after grad. Let me have you tonight."

Percy's eyes slip closed as Oliver licks his neck, gripping the scarlet robes as his knees weaken. This is what he's always wanted, Oliver Wood hard against him. It's not forever and it not love but he can accept that. He wants nothing more that Ollie's cock splitting him in two.

They fumble Oliver out of the quidditch robes, laughing and cursing as they tug and the laces and buckles. Naked they tumble unto Percy's bed kissing and exploring each other. Fingers linger on his bruises and Percy looks up to see a strange expression on Wood's face.

"Are you going to see him again?" Woods asks. Percy shakes his head.

"Good" he grunts, backtracking when he sees Percy's face. "I don't mean in jealousy. I meant that you deserve better than him. " he looks up at Percy through thick lashes. … so much better."

Percy growls and flips the taller boy over, diving for his cock and swallowing it to the root. Wood's strangled cry is music to his ears and he wrings out many more as he bobs his head, suckling on the hot hardness until Wood's hips buck, pumping thick cum that Percy's swallows greedily.

He licks his lips, looking smugly at Oliver who's collapsed against the bed like a boiled noodle.

"Merlin's balls Perce" Oliver gasps, pulling Percy up his toned body for a kiss. "you're a fucking menace."

Percy laughs.

Wood's soon ready for another round and under Percy's guidance, slips two fingers into his slick entrance. He's still loose from Flint's cock and Oliver scrambles for his wand to do a cleansing charm and reapply the lube charm. Percy squirms as the spells tingle, surprised that the feel Wood's magic inside him differs from his own.

Oliver lays him on his back, holding his gaze as he slowly slides into Percy, groaning as that hot wet hole just takes and takes his hard cock. Percy gasps as Wood bottoms out. Fling had been thick but Oliver was long, his engorged cock head pushing deeper into him that ever before. He wraps his legs around wood's trim waist and grabs the sheets as Wood starts pumping into him, building a steady rhythm until soft gasps and sweet whispers fill the space between them.

Oliver leans down, bracing himself on his elbow and kissed Percy, his hips still rocking a steady pace. His breath is hot and ragged as he buries his face in the redhead's neck and just breathes him in. Percy has one hand on Wood's muscular bicep and another clawing blunt nails into that toned arse.

Oliver shifts his angle and Percy cries out, tears springing to his eyes as he kisses Oliver's arm and holds on for dear life. The muscles in Wood's back flex as he fucks Percy up the mattress, driving the ginger haired boy utterly wild. Percy trembles apart, his orgasm slipping over him so slowly that he's let breathless when it crashes over him. He keens, hips bucking as he clenches around Wood's pistoning cock. He's still shuddering when Wood comes deep within him, hips snapping forward wildly and he groans into Percy's neck.

They lay in a tangle of limbs, touching and kissing, laughing softly as they tremble through the after glow. Oliver gently slips out of Percy and he pulls the smaller teen to him so that they are spooning. Percy chuckles at Oliver's dopey grin, turning slightly to kiss him, pressing his delightfully sore arse against Oliver's crotch.

"Tease." Wood nips at his shoulder and neck, one hand reaching down to cup Percy's own flaccid cock. "

I may be young and virile but I think we both need a bit before we can go again."

Percy barks a laugh. He can't believe his life right now.

He's rocked Olliver Wood's world but good. Wood, a boy he's been in love with since he was eleven years old. He'd had a secret lover in Slytherin bad boy Marcus Flint. He was top of his year, perfect Head Boy. He had a cushy job awaiting him at the ministry. He had a steady girlfriend who could very well be the perfect respectable wife he'd always envisioned. His parents couldn't be prouder.He was getting away from the twins and their awful pranks.

He felt a heat poking at his arse and grinned as a strong hand lifted his leg, turning to snag soft lips in a deep kiss as a hot hard cock pressed into him with a low groan.

His future was bright as it stretched out ahead of him and he just knew it would only get better from here.


The sun is starting to set over the tall jungle trees, throwing a haze over the compound as Percy made his way outside. All the patients have gone home, the few local staff cleaning up for the next day, all the excitement of their unexpected arrival settling down into retelling of adventures and quiet laughter. Percy had gotten hugs from all three Grangers, Hermione hugging him tight with tears in her eyes, whispering heartfelt thanks you's into his ear.

The local Ivorian staff had been curious, casting long looks at both Harry and Percy. The children squealed, gazing and grinning at Harry's stunning eyes, Percy's flame coloured hair. Hermione had been telling old school stories to them while she was home on 'hols' from her magical school, deep within the jungles of the Ivory Coast; so the children would orbit Harry constantly liked he'd hung the moon and stars while he stared at Granger like she'd done the same for him.

They sit around a full English tea set with heavy silver tray, laden with sweet plantain Beignets and light and fluffy  little flour croquettes called Merveilles with strong earl grey tea that only came out on special occasion because it was so hard to come by so far from the cities.

He silently slips away from all the excitement to sit on the crude porch, an ice cold cola soothing his parched throat from the sweltering African heat. He hears foot steps along the loose boards and Harry plops down next to him with his own chilled soda pop. His face is practically cracked in half from his wide grin and his emerald eyes sparkle like never before. He bumps Percy's shoulder gently with his own.

"So….." he bites his lip then grins again, "…. turns out Hermione's a bit of a guide…. and when I say a bit, I mean like she's totally my guide. it's brilliant. "

Percy hugs him with one arm and congratulates him. They share a smile.

"Have I thanked you yet for bringing me all the way here?" the black haired boy elbowed Percy gently in the side.

Percy looked out at the forest "No, I don't think you have."

With a snort Harry jumps up and shoves his hands in his trouser pockets, smiling cheekily down at the redhead.

"Remind me to do that sometime then."

Percy watches him spin on his heels and walk away with a shake of his head, muttering under his breath "Brat"

"I heard that Professor Westerly sir" Harry's laugh echoes down the long, narrow porch.

Percy chuckles, turning back to stare at the jungle that lay just beyond the river. The journey from Britain to here had been a long one, full of good and bad, laughter and tears. One family lost to him and another gained. Old pains and regrets he'd been keeping for so long have diminished. Their jagged edges ground smooth by the love and affection of his family and friends.

His old life is over now, his final promise fulfilled. The future is uncertain and he finds that he's rather ok with that. He has his brothers, he has his friends. He will face whatever comes and knows that he will be alright with what ever path he may eventually take because as he's always told himself …

….If something was worth doing, it was worth doing his best.