Harry listened to Percy without so much as moving; the man was speaking very quickly and quietly, and Harry wanted to be sure he heard it all. Only once Percy was done did Harry rub a hand over his face, hard, as though hoping to get blood flowing to his brain so that he could think. It was a lot to let sink in all at once, but he knew there was no other way.
His flat was being watched? By Cursebreakers? That wasn't good. And who would have ever thought that the money Harry had donated to the Weasley twins would find a way to come bite him in the ass? It wasn't fair.
The question of how Percy could know all of this when he was kept out of meetings occurred to Harry, but it seemed the most pointless question to ask, at this point. His home wasn't safe; the one place you naturally came to assume, to expect was safe, wasn't. For weeks, now, Harry had felt trapped, as though the net had been closing in around him. He was helpless; though he wanted to fix the world, bring it back to what it always should have been,... hadn't he given enough for the world? Harry felt very much the coward, but he just wanted this to end. He wasn't up for some other battle, for constantly being on the lookout in case... No one knew just how exhausting exhausting paranoia could be more than Harry.
"This is great." Harry lifted his cup, the set it back down on the table quickly, producing a bit of a clap when it struck the surface. The last thing he wanted was to bring even more trouble down on Percy. The man didn't need it - just as Harry didn't need it, but there was no one to help him out. No one to spare him... "I should get out of here, then," he said, rising. "If you could get rid of the cup for me, that'd be great. Thanks."