A Room With a View

Red-Handed

Severus flung his magic outward silently and wandlessly, hoping that it would be enough to stop the man before he cast anything else on Hermione. "Drop your wand, Weasley!" He was gratified the non-verbal disarming spell had worked. Weasley's body flew one way and his wand flew straight into Severus' hand.

He drew his own wand, running forward to restrain Hermione's attacker and assess the damage done to her person. He cast a hasty incarcerous toward the heap on the sofa and quickly knelt next to Hermione to rennervate her. He breathed a sigh of relief when her eyes opened immediately. 

"Severus?" she said shakily. "What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but I intend to find out. Can you sit up?" he asked, offering her his hand. At her nod he drew her into a less supine position and placed her gently in one of the armchairs. Her eyes widened as he drew back from her chair, giving her a clear view of her attacker.

"Percy?" she said in a whisper.

Severus whirled, surprised to find the middle Weasley neatly trussed and wedged into the corner of the long sofa on which Severus had imagined trysting with Hermione just minutes before.

"You?" He stared at Percy for a full minute, taking in the wan face, the frightened eyes. The guilty slouch. Baffled, Severus sat heavily on the arm of Hermione's chair. "Why?"

The younger man sniffed miserably and closed his eyes against the two penetrating stares before him. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I just wanted to fix things." A tear leaked out of his eyes as he took in a ragged breath. "I'm so sorry."

Severus' hand tensed on his wand as a wave of fury crashed through him. He wanted to hex the poncy bastard within an inch of his life. He'd ruined everything. He'd accosted Hermione twice. Accosted him twice. And for what? Why on earth would Percy Weasley, of all people, erase his memory and banish him from Britain?

The elder man stood to make his way toward the wretched red head before Hermione's hand stayed his forward progress. "Sit down, Severus," she said quietly. "Percy, I think you had better explain yourself."

----------------------------------------------

"It was stupid, looking back on it. I hadn't really seen mum and dad for three years. I mean, there were... encounters, I guess. I hadn't talked to Fred or George either. Or Ron. Charlie tried, but I never really replied to his letters. Too busy. Too important, I thought. Then it all just came falling down 'round my ears, you know? And then I got word of the battle, and they were all there and I fought - well, we all fought - and suddenly Fred was gone. And Mum was inconsolable. And it was. Well. The family broke. I'd left and they'd gone on, but then I'd come back, and it was all gone. Nothing worked anymore." Percy attempted to wipe his face on his shoulder, but his movements were hampered by the awkward positioning of his restraints.

"Everyone was heartbroken with Fred. George... Merlin, I don't know how Georgie got through it all. Mum was sobbing all the time. And you and Ron," he looked at Hermione, "He was gutted that you'd kissed and nothing had come of it. Moaned about you day and night, didn't know what he'd done wrong."

Hermione's hand snuck into Severus'. "It wouldn't have worked then, Percy. I don't think it ever would've worked, actually, but certainly not then. He was too young, and Severus needed me to help."

Percy sniffed again, a wet snuffling noise that was about as mismatched to his elegant attire as his presence in the entire situation seemed to be. "I know. I see that now, really. But at the time... well, I think we were all a little crazy. Maybe me especially. I was fired, you know, while they sorted out everything that had happened in the Ministry. They talked about putting me on trial with Thicknesse. Colluding." He snorted mirthlessly. "Maybe they should have."