Entry tags:

fic, gen

A gift for gm_weasley!
Author: ???
Giftee: gm_weasley
Title: High-Strung Chairs and Pornographic Paperclips
Pairing/Characters: Percy gen fic [other characters: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Andromeda Tonks, Nymphadora Tonks, Healer Pye]
Rating: Gen
Word Count: ~6100
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: All fictional characters and places contained herein are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and various companies including Scholastic Books and Warner Bros, Inc.
Summary: Percy's most important project for the new Minister of Magic: find all the information available on Metamorphmagi to help save the life of Nymphadora Tonks. Unfortunately for Percy, that's easier ordered than accomplished.
Notes: Deepest thanks to Bloodwings, roma_fics, alisanne, unbroken_halo, and kathrynthegreat for the insightful betas, the support and the cheerleading.

---

Percy's desk was neat and orderly. His inbox was empty and his outbox showed files arranged precisely, in alphabetical order by department. He glanced at the "window" and saw that it was once again utterly beautiful outside.

Magical Maintenance hadn't allowed the Ministry's windows to show so much as a cloud in the sky in the six days since Harry had defeated Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts. There was a very good possibility that it would be drizzling outside when Percy left for lunch.

With a sigh, Percy opened his bottom drawer and saw his personal umbrella lying neatly beside a rather odd sight. A small box of Muggle paperclips. Percy's lips lifted a bit at the corners as he reached down and touched the light-weight papery box. Glancing about, he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it up onto his desk.

Though he would never tell anyone else, his father's love of Muggle devices had rubbed off on Percy. He didn't care so much about the eckletrickles that made the lights work; he was more interested in day-to-day things like staples and paperclips, biros and rubbers. The tiny little details that made life work. It was more about the seconds inside the minutes than it was about the hours that made up the day.

Fingers digging into the box, he removed a paperclip, only to frown when he noticed that another had managed to tangle itself onto the one he'd chosen.

"Now, now," he murmured under his breath, "none of that, if you please. We'll have a bit of order here. No comingling. I mean it. Cheeky little buggers." With a fond smile, he separated the two bits of folded wire and dropped the other one back into the box. Reaching into his drawer again, he withdrew a single piece of parchment and slid the paperclip over the edge of it.

It was so seductive, this little marvel of Muggle engineering.

So entranced was he, he didn't notice anyone entering his workspace until a file slid across the top of his desk. Startled, he quickly slipped the paperclip from the parchment, dropped it back into its box, and in one efficient movement returned the box to its drawer while using his other hand to open the file.

Glancing down at the contents, he stared blankly for a moment until the wizarding documents inside managed to clear the cobwebs in his head. Forehead furrowing, he looked closer. He'd seen a few such in his life, but not many.

"These are St Mungo's charts," he murmured, watching as the numbers indicating respiration and blood pressure changed minutely.

"Yes, they are." The voice was deep… and unmistakeable.

Percy jumped to his feet, sending his desk chair scuttling backward on offended legs. "Minister!" Percy smoothed his hands down his robes nervously. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realise it was you. I… usually Matthews brings in the… I'm sorry, sir. What can I do for you?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt waved a large hand at him, directing him to take his seat again. Taking a moment to stroke the upholstered arm in an apologetic manner, Percy gingerly sat, waiting through the chair's sad little shudders before he relaxed completely.

"How can I help you, sir?" Percy asked deferentially as he watched the Minister conjure a comfortable-looking armchair.

"I want to know what you know about Metamorphmagi."

Percy blinked frantically for a moment as his mind raced. Stalling for time, he pulled his glasses off his face and rubbed at them with his robes before he settled them back on his nose and said, "Not very much, actually. I was familiar with Auror Tonks before she…" Percy coughed quietly, grief churning in his belly for all those who had been lost. "I knew her," he said, trying again. "But only peripherally. We were never close." His voice was a bit more gruff than normal, but the Minister ignored it.

Percy let the silence build for a moment, thinking the Minister would say something else. When nothing was forthcoming, he added, "I don't really know much else, other than that they can alter their bodies at will. They metamorphose, hence the name." He spread his hands and shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

Minister Shacklebolt sat back in his chair, rubbing one hand along his bald head idly while he thought. After a long moment, he said, "The chart you're looking at belongs to Nymphadora Tonks."

Percy's eyes flared wide as he glanced back down at the file. "But this indicates that she's—"

"Alive, yes."

Crushing, overwhelming hope filled Percy and he looked up. "Fred?"

The Minister's face softened into lines of sympathy. "I'm sorry, Percy. Fred is truly gone."

With a shaky gasp, Percy nodded, sitting back in his chair again. Blowing out a breath, he pushed his grief for his brother back into its compartment and picked up the file again. "How did she survive?"

"That's very much what the Ministry would like to know. There was the assumption that she was dead until the staff from St Mungo's arrived and began checking the bodies. Stasis charms had been applied to keep the bodies of those killed from beginning to decompose, but that in itself would not have been enough to save her. Or, at least, that is the information that was given to me."

"Why did we think she was dead?" Percy mused, looking through the chart for any information. There was shockingly little to be found. Glancing up, he frowned slightly and pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, directing a wordless sticking charm at them. The one he'd applied this morning had obviously worn off as, working diligently, he'd simply stopped concentrating on it.

He watched as the Minister sat back in his chair, one booted foot resting on the other knee as he stared into space and slowly recounted the facts of Tonks' "death." "Tonks and Remus were fighting together when both went down. They were brought to Hogwarts' Great Hall, where a quick physical conducted by a medi-wizard trainee pronounced them both dead. Stasis charms were applied to the bodies and they were laid out for funeral preparations. This was immediately following the fall of Voldemort, and there were hundreds of bodies being brought forward for treatment or…" Kingsley broke off with a sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "The next day, when the cataloguing of the dead was being conducted by specialists from St Mungo's, it was determined that Tonks still had brain activity."

"Excuse me, sir," Percy broke in. "It doesn't say here why the trainee pronounced her dead."

"No heartbeat, no breathing. No visible signs of life, including pupil dilation and response to stimulus."

Percy nodded and began to write on a clean sheet of parchment as Kingsley went on.

"Tonks was moved to a private room at St Mungo's, where she is being quarantined until the Healers can determine what is wrong with her."

Percy looked up from his writing. "Quarantine?"

Kingsley drew a deep breath and nodded. "Everyone who has come in direct contact with her… body… has shown a fluctuation in their personal magical field."

"Has it affected their auras?"

"Apparently not. This… phenomenon… merely causes a decrease in magical ability for a short length of time until the witch or wizard's core can repair the depletion."

Percy sighed and lowered his quill. "Sir, I really don't know what it is you need from me. I'm quite obviously not qualified to give Tonks medical aid—"

Kingsley held his hand up and shook his head. "Tonks is receiving the very best medical care she possibly can at this time. The problem is that there have been so few Metamorphmagi in recent history that the St Mungo's staff doesn't have information available to them about what might prove problematic in her treatment. They don't want to kill her with a simple medical charm. I'm sure you see the problem."

Percy nodded, his eyes serious as he tapped his quill against the paper, the miniscule ink splatters magically erasing themselves without so much as a thought. "How can I help?"

"I need you to write a detailed report on Metamorphmagi. If you can write a comprehensive analysis of the variety of cauldron bottom thicknesses displayed throughout Europe and Asia, I believe you are just the man I need for this. But Weasley?"

Percy blinked, his gaze having gone blank for a moment as he was already making a mental list of the many wizarding libraries he would need to visit or Floo for the research materials he'd need to write this report. "Yes, Minister?"

"I need this report as soon as possible. Whatever is keeping Tonks alive isn't… well, it's some form of wild magic that isn't likely to hold for much longer."

Percy nodded slowly. "I'll keep you informed of my progress, sir. I should be able to send you a report at least once a day with any new findings."

Kingsley stroked his chin. "Do you think that's wise? I know oftentimes, especially with rare magic, the written records can be contradictory."

Percy bit his lip, nodding slowly. "Yes, sir, that's true."

"Needless to say, Percy, I'm pulling you from all other duties."

Percy's eyebrows went up at that, but he didn't say anything. However, Kingsley apparently felt the need to explain himself.

"She was my partner. I trusted her with my life and I know she felt the same. I will use every resource at my disposal to help her… including you."

Percy's mouth quirked at that. Oddly enough, he liked the thought of being a resource. It was… comforting.

~*~

Percy released a frustrated sigh, pushing the mostly useless handwritten tome—whose flowing script was giving him a migraine—away from him angrily. He looked down at his notes and growled as he saw that he had less than half a foot of parchment after an entire afternoon spent in the wizarding section of the British Library.

Pushing his glasses up onto his forehead, Percy pressed the tips of his fingers against his aching eyes and thought for a long moment. He knew he should go inform the Minister of his progress, but he hated to admit to his utter failure.

Shaking his head, he reset his glasses onto his nose and glared at the books stacked neatly on the table. Every book in the vast library that so much as contained the word "Metamorphmagus" had been collected for him by the librarian. She'd been told he was here under direct orders from the Minister and had been utterly, if silently, helpful.

Flipping his parchment over, Percy quickly copied the titles of the books and went back to the circulation desk, letting the librarian know that he was done with his research for the moment. A quick flick of her wand and the books disappeared from the table at which he'd been working, to reappear, he assumed, in their appropriate places on the library's shelves.

"Madam," he murmured, capturing her attention.

The librarian blinked up at him vaguely and said, "Yes, Mr Weasley. How may I assist you?"

"Do you have an inter-library loan program here?"

The librarian's face glowed for a moment with pride before her lips stretched into a painfully thin smile and she said, "Yes, we do. The Bibliotheque nationale de France, the Edinburgh University Library, the German National Library, the Danish Royal Library—of course the libraries of the Great Schools—the Swedish Royal Library—"

Percy held his hand up, envisioning an hour of standing there listening to her list off the various libraries involved in the inter-library exchange. "That's fascinating, Madam, but I'm hoping that you can help me a bit further. Would it be possible for you to gather books from those libraries with the same search criteria I gave you earlier?"

The librarian's face fell when he cut her off, but as soon as he'd given his request, she was once again energised. "Yes, Mr Weasley. I can certainly help with that. I simply need you to sign a few forms and I'll have the books available for you on Monday next."

Percy blinked rapidly. "Monday next? I… well, I thought you understood the urgency of my research? I really don’t think I can wait that long. Or rather, that the Minister can."

The librarian stared coldly at him, her lips pinching into a disapproving line. "I do understand the urgency, Mr Weasley, but most of the books you are requesting are ancient. We cannot simply owl them across the continent!"

Percy drummed his fingers against his thigh for a moment before he nodded abruptly and said, "I understand. You said there were forms I would need to sign?"

Face smoothing back out into blank lines, the librarian reached under her desk and withdrew a sheaf of papers held together with—

Percy smiled widely as he saw the bit of metal pressed deep into the thick stack of parchments. "Paper clips?" He reached out and traced his finger across it momentarily before remembering himself and withdrawing his hand.

The librarian coloured a bright red even as she fussed with the papers. "Yes, well, they're excessively useful in—"

Percy placed his hand atop hers and whispered, "I understand. I use them all the time at the Ministry. They are quite the most marvellous invention."

He watched as the librarian flicked her eyes around before leaning in toward him and saying, "Have you ever used Post-it notes? Or the colourful, self-adhering tabs they make for separating research?"

Percy's mouth dropped open for a moment before he slowly shook his head. "Post-it notes?"

The librarian smiled wickedly at him before dropping down behind the tall counter for a moment. Returning, she again glanced around before sliding her cupped hand across the smooth, glossy wood of the circulation desk. "When you need more, you'll find them at any Muggle office supply store," she whispered.

Percy looked down and saw a square of faded yellow paper and some red, sort of clear arrows. Scooping them up, he placed them into the pocket of his robes before nodded briskly at the librarian and twitching her a smile.

"Thank you."

"Just peel the top note off and stick it to whatever you wish to make a note on. They're ever so useful."

Percy nodded his thanks again before turning away. A thought stopped him, however, making him turn back.

"Madam? I'm sorry to keep interrupting, but—"

"Not at all! How can I help you?"

"Is the Library on the Floo network?"

The librarian nodded slowly. "Yes, but only for official uses."

Percy bit his lip. "Would it be connected to the library at Hogwarts? I think I might know of several books there—"

"Oh!" The librarian quickly covered her mouth with both hands after making the loud exclamation. "I'm sorry," she said in a whisper, "but… surely you know?"

Percy could only stare blankly.

"Why, Mr Weasley, the Hogwarts library… it was destroyed during the battle last week."

~*~

Percy stepped behind his desk and sank into his chair with a grateful sigh. From the stiffness of the seat, he knew his chair was perturbed with him for being gone all afternoon; a few minutes of softly stroking the armrest took care of that and soon, he was relaxing as the chair shifted beneath him to firmly massage his sore back.

"I had to do some research and I couldn't very well take you to the British Library, could I?" he murmured.

Reaching into his middle drawer, he pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote out a request for a meeting with the Minister. Addressing it to the Minister's secretary, he carefully folded the parchment into a perfect airplane and sent it zooming on its way.

In the time it took to receive a reply, Percy wrote out a report on the few items he'd been able to glean from his research, dealt with a small stack of inter-office memos, and familiarized himself with the Post-it notes and research tabs. These he found almost as ingenious as paperclips, but he wasn't quite as impressed with their sticking ability.

"A standard sticking charm on any piece of parchment would do just as well. But good on the Muggles for thinking of this," he whispered to himself.

Just then, a parchment airplane came zooming into his office. Placing his new office supplies into the bottom drawer of his desk, Percy unfolded the airplane. His eyes flickering over the seal of the Minister, he read through the message and gathered up his research from that afternoon.

Patting his chair, he said, "I have a meeting with the Minister. Wish me luck." A firm squeeze to his backside made him jump unnecessarily fast out of the seat. "Oh, that was pure cheek. Behave yourself." Satisfied when the upholstery covering his chair glowed red for a moment, Percy turned and made his way through the Ministry to meet with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

~*~

"That is disappointing. I don't suppose putting pressure on the library system would help us get the books faster?"

Percy shook his head sadly. "No, sir, I don't believe so. The librarian understood the seriousness of my research; the books are simply too old and too valuable—"

"As valuable as Tonks' life?!"

Percy pressed his lips together, remaining silent. The Minister ran a hand over his head and sighed. "I'm sorry, Percy. I'm simply… frustrated. Is there anything you can do in the meantime?"

Percy chewed on his bottom lip while thinking. "It would help if there were other Metamorphmagi to interview. Does the Ministry keep records of them?"

Kingsley grabbed a piece of parchment and, after jotting a quick note, sent it winging off through a special hole in the top of the wall next to the closed door. "I have no idea, but my secretary will find out and send in a list. Perhaps you could spend the intervening time interviewing Tonks' family."

Percy squinted while he stared into space, thinking. "Her father was a Muggle-born, right? I remember seeing his name on the Registration Commi—" Percy coughed, cutting off that line of thought quickly.

Kingsley sighed and pressed his hands into the top of his desk. "Percy, I'm going to say this once only. Everything that happened in the past is in the past. Attempting to avoid mentioning the things that occurred at the Ministry in the past year will only annoy me. Is that clear?"

Percy nodded, eyes on the parchment he was twisting between his fingers. "Yes, sir. I was saying that I recalled seeing a Ted Tonks on the list for Muggle-borns who were being sought for Registry. Was that her father?"

"Yes, but he died last year. I was thinking more of her mother, Andromeda. I would imagine she would have acquired all the information she could get her hands on once it became apparent what Tonks was."

"Would she meet with me, do you think?"

"If it would help her daughter, I think she'd meet with Voldemort's reanimated corpse."

~*~

Percy stood outside of Purge and Dowse, Ltd., eyes trained on the abandoned storefront with its out-of-fashion faceless mannequin. With a sigh, he stepped to the window and spoke clearly, "Percy Weasley to see Auror Tonks."

When the glass wavered, he glanced around to see if any Muggles were watching, then stepped through. Entering the rather dingy, overcrowded lobby, he went straight to the reception desk and waited impatiently for the small queue to be dealt with by the harassed-looking Welcome Witch.

When the wizard directly in front of him was directed to go to the Fourth Floor to have his wife removed from his side, Percy stepped forward and said, "I'm here to see Auror Tonks. Is she on the Fourth Floor?"

The harried witch looked up at him, her eyes narrowing suspiciously before she said, "Auror Tonks is on the Second Floor, under the care of Healer Pye."

Percy frowned, looking at the Floor map posted on the wall behind the reception desk. "Magical Bugs? But…"

Rolling her eyes, the plump woman said, "It's the only floor set up for patients requiring quarantine."

Percy nodded in understanding before he murmured his thanks and walked swiftly toward the queue for the lifts.

Several minutes later, Percy stepped off the lift onto the Second Floor, going directly toward the information desk to make his inquiries about Tonks and her assigned Healer. Finding that Pye was currently checking on his patient, Percy hurried down the hall to intercept him.

Seeing a man in the green robes of a Healer standing in front of a magically warded pane of glass, Percy started toward him and said, "Healer Pye?

The young wizard turned, eyes going to Percy's hair before he smiled slightly and said, "Yes? How may I help you?"

"Hello, sir. My name is Percy Weasley, and I've been assigned by the Minister to provide you with information on Metamorphmagi to facilitate your work with Auror Tonks."

Healer Pye reached forward, warmly clasping Percy's outstretched hand. "Weasley. Yes, I thought so. I worked on your father a few years ago, when I was still a Trainee. That was a nasty snake bite. Don't think I've seen anything like it before or since. Although Auror Tonks' case is unique in its own right, at least she isn't bleeding out litres of blood every few minutes."

Percy twitched, slightly uncomfortable with the reminder of how close his father had come to death... especially as Percy himself had been unwilling to bend enough to speak with him in what might have been his final days. Twisting to look into Tonks' room, Percy quickly changed the subject. "What can you tell me of her condition? I'm having difficulty finding much information on Metamorphmagi, and what is available doesn't necessarily deal with medical issues."

Healer Pye stared at him for a long moment before drawing his wand through the air, conjuring Tonks' hospital charts. "She has been in a comatose condition since she arrived. We have been able to stabilize her vitals, but she is very definitely weakening. At the moment she is being kept alive solely on the power granted to her when her husband placed himself in the path of the Killing Curse that was meant for her."

Percy turned to the Healer, surprised at what he'd just heard. "What? I thought it was a Killing Curse that did this to her?"

Healer Pye shook his head. "One of the first things we did once she was stabilized was find someone who could give eyewitness Pensieve... testimony, for lack of a better word. It was revealed then that the Killing Curse cast by Bellatrix Lestrange did not, in fact, hit Auror Tonks because Remus Lupin threw himself in front of it. That final sacrifice shielded Auror Tonks from the hex that hit her mere moments later. We are uncertain of who cast it since they were wearing a hooded robe, but the hex was Veneficium Magus."

Percy, busily taking notes, looked up at that. "What does the hex do? Do you know?"

Pye nodded. "It's not uncommon. Though we only saw the first case in the past year, it was used quite often. A rather unfortunate hex, it removes a witch or wizard's magical essence. It's commonly referred to as the Squib Maker. There is a less fortunate name that was bandied about by the Death Eaters and those of their ilk in the past few months, but I refuse to repeat it. A nasty, vicious term." Pye sniffed and glared into space, obviously angered by whatever the name had been.

Percy glanced at the man, wondering for a long moment before he realised that the hex had likely been used most on Muggleborns. Making a mental note to check the old Registry records for Healer Pye's name, Percy cleared his throat and sought some way to move the conversation forward. "Is the hex reversible?"

"Not that we've been able to determine. We have a team of research specialists working on it, though, so as soon as we find a reversal, we'll attempt to apply it. Until then, our wands are useless. And I'm quite afraid that Auror Tonks isn't going to last long enough for the researchers to find her cure."

Percy looked through the glass again, his face softening as he took in the muted pink of Tonks' hair and the paleness of her skin. She looked so tiny and fragile laying there; it was difficult to imagine her as the same vivacious woman he had seen so often in the halls at the Ministry before she'd been forced to flee last year with her husband and child.

"Is there anything else you can tell me, Healer Pye?"

"Unfortunately not, Mr Weasley. There is precious little we actually know about what is wrong with her. Most people simply lose their magic. She is losing her life and we don't know why. I can only assume it has something to do with her status as a Metamorphmagus."

Percy sighed and nodded, running a hand through his hair before he quickly duplicated his notes and Banished one set to the Minister's secretary.

"I'll be meeting with her mother this afternoon," Percy said. "If I find anything useful, I'll owl you straight away."

Healer Pye turned and clasped Percy's arm. "Thank you. It pains me to watch my patients suffer; I'll try anything if it helps her."

Percy looked deep into the Healer's eyes, wondering at the emphasis the man had placed on that 'anything.'

~*~

Percy Apparated directly to the coordinates Andromeda Tonks had sent him. As soon as the rather nauseating sensation of Apparation left him, he looked around and noticed a rather cosy-looking cottage. Going briskly up the walk, he rapped on the door and was startled when it opened under his hand.

The familiar face staring back at him was yet another surprise.

"Harry!"

"Hallo, Percy," Harry said, giving him a rather weary smile as he pulled the door open wider. "Come in, please. Andromeda is waiting for you in the parlour. I'm just here visiting with Teddy for the afternoon."

"Oh?" Percy asked, rather flustered still.

Harry nodded, showing Percy into the house. "Yes, he's my godson. I was hoping you were Ginny. She promised to come with me but was held up at the Burrow."

Percy made a small murmur of interest, a prickling of discomfort causing him to stiffen. He couldn't ignore the way he had treated this boy—this man—in the past, and yet… How exactly was he supposed to broach the subject? Drawing in a deep breath, Percy held it for a long moment before expelling it in a rush.

"Harry?" Percy kept his voice low; he'd spotted the open doorway that Harry was leading him to and didn't want Mrs Tonks to overhear their conversation.

Harry turned, his eyebrows arched in question. "Yes, Percy?"

"I…" Percy stared at a spot over Harry's shoulder, unable to give his apology to the open face of the man who'd risked so much in his short life. "I have been meaning to apologise to you for the past week. I have no excuse for my behaviour—"

"Percy. Please stop. It's a new world; a fresh start. Let it go, yeah?"

Percy blinked rapidly, caught off-guard yet again. "I… still. You have my apology."

"Err. Thanks. Umm, Andromeda is through here. Teddy's with her, but I'll take him out of your hair so the two of you can talk. Oh." Looking vaguely guilty, Harry said, "Have you seen Tonks today? Is she better? I haven't been able to make it to St Mungo's in a few days."

Percy nodded, relaxing at the change of subject. "Yes, I was just there this morning. Her condition is—" Percy cut himself off, wondering exactly how honest he should be in this situation.

"Still deteriorating then?" Harry asked, his voice turning bitter and hard.

Percy sighed and met Harry's eyes. "Yes. I'm sorry."

"Kingsley seems to think you can find something to help her. I'll just wish you luck, then, and keep hope."

The weight of expectation settled on Percy's shoulders, but he ignored it as he stepped into the parlour to greet—

Blast! For a moment, Percy had thought he was face-to-face with Bellatrix Lestrange. Thankfully, his study of the pureblood families last year had given him enough information to know that he was simply meeting her sister; one who looked enough like her to be her twin.

"Mrs Tonks," he said, extending his hand toward her to cover his initial reaction.

"Mr Weasley," she said, her voice slightly cool as she stretched forward to shake his hand.

"I find myself full of apologies today," Percy said, only to feel a solid slap on his back.

"Well, at least you didn't try to hex her, Perce. Better than my first reaction."

Andromeda shook her head and said, "Harry, if you don't mind, Teddy is ready for a nap."

Harry's face softened before he bent over a playpen and pulled a sleepy-looking, blue-haired baby from its confines. "Come along, old boy. Let's go have a lie-down, shall we?"

Remaining quiet until Harry left the room, Percy turned back toward Andromeda and said, "Is Teddy a Metamorphmagus also?"

"Yes, he is." Gesturing toward a tea service, Andromeda said, "Would you like a cuppa?"

Percy realised then how long it had been since he'd had a chance for a spot of tea and he nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Sugar? Milk?"

"Just milk, please."

As she poured, Andromeda began speaking. "We knew Teddy was a Metamorphmagus within a few hours of his birth; we had to wait nearly a month to find out if he was going to inherit Remus' condition as well."

Percy took his cup from her outstretched hand and blew gently on the steaming liquid. "Did he?" he asked gently.

"Fortunately, no. It seems the Metamorphmagus gene supersedes any other."

"Was it like that with Tonks, too?"

Andromeda's lips curved into a small, sad smile before she said, "Yes, Dora was a pure changeling. When she was four, she turned herself into the image of our neighbour's eight-year-old boy and played at his house for several hours until his family noticed. I was beside myself with worry over her disappearance when the Obliviators arrived to deal with my neighbours. They were Muggles. It was hair-raising, needless to say, and there were several such incidents through the years."

"She was able to do a full transformation at four years old?" Percy sat back, truly astonished.

"Oh, yes. She probably did it before then, I just didn't know about it."

"That's… highly advanced magic."

Andromeda smiled fondly. "Well, Metamorphmagi are rather highly advanced, so it makes sense that they would be able to perform advanced magic, doesn't it?"

Percy nodded faintly, taking a sip of his tea as he conjured parchment and began to take notes. For several hours, he sat with Andromeda, listening to story after story of her daughter's life. The soft cry of an infant broke filtering through the cottage finally brought an end to their chat.

"I'm terribly sorry for taking up so much of your time," Percy said, gathering several sheets of parchment together. "This information will be highly helpful, though; I have no doubt."

Andromeda stood, pressing one hand to her back as she walked toward a tall bookshelf against the far wall. "I have some literature, if you need it?"

Percy rushed to her side at her words. "You do? Books?"

"Everything Sirius could find in the family library and vault that might deal with Metamorphmagi. When I was expelled from the family, my dearest cousin smuggled them to me. I'm sure Aunt Walburga is spinning in her grave as I speak. Ahh, here we are. This shelf."

Percy blinked in amazement at the sheer number of books Andromeda had. "You realise you have a larger selection of material on Metamorphmagi than does the British Library?"

Andromeda simply smiled.

~*~

Percy moaned and leaned back in his chair, working the kinks from his back as the armrests squeezed him tight in a rather wooden embrace. The books and articles he'd borrowed from Mrs Tonks had been filled with raw information; he had spent nearly three solid days deciphering less than stellar handwriting in the more ancient manuscripts.

Removing his glasses, he rubbed at his eyes and tried to ignore the new information floating crazily in his head.

"What's the common theme, Percy?" he asked himself wearily. "What is it that sets her apart from others? What is the most useful—"

He stopped speaking as a spark of an idea began to glow dimly in the deepest recesses of his mind. Sets her apart from others…

"Magic." The word seemed to come from nowhere, though Percy knew logically he was the one who had uttered it.

Examining the thought from every angle, Percy slowly nodded. "That's it." Gathering up the paperwork from his desk, Percy leapt to his feet and rushed out the door, not sparing a thought for the chair that deflated in self-pity behind him.

~*~

Percy stood next to the Minister, watching through their reflections in the glass as the dozen or so House-elves were assembled just outside the quarantine area in Tonks' room.

"Are you certain this will work?" Kingsley asked.

Percy blew out a short breath and said, "Honestly, no. But it does make sense. She's magic, sir. She doesn't have magic, she is magic. A magical creature. It makes sense that if a curse was used that removes magical essence from a 'normal' witch or wizard that it would… well, it would kill her. Her body has been trying to save her all along; it's been showing us what she needs."

"More magic. That's why she's been draining everyone."

Percy nodded, eyes trained on the tiny House-elves with their large, serious eyes. "Healer Pye is the perfect choice for her Healer. Most wouldn't have thought to call in other magical creatures to treat her. Actually, most wouldn't have treated her at all. They would have called for a representative from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I just hope this works." The plan from Healer Pye had been to ask the House-elves that worked at St Mungo's to volunteer to allow Tonks to draw magical energy from them.

A large hand cupping his shoulder made Percy turn to the Minister. "Sir?"

"Regardless of whether this helps her or not, Weasley, you have my thanks. I appreciate the hard work you've given to this case."

Percy's mouth twitched before he turned back to see the House-elves entering the quarantined zone. "After everything that's happened, she deserves to live and be happy." Without conscious thought, Percy put his hand behind his back, crossing his fingers.

~*~Eleven Months and Nineteen Days Later~*~

So much had happened in the past year. There were still holes to be filled, but… Percy looked around the garden at the familiar faces of friends and family and then turned and gazed fondly at the ever-tilting structure he'd spent so much of his life hating. Home.

"Wotcher, Percy."

He smiled and turned to see Tonks standing there, her hair colour changing to match his own as he watched. It had been a long, hard year for her. When she'd woken that day at St Mungo's, she'd had to be informed of her husband's death as she had no memory of the Battle for Hogwarts at all. She hadn't even known that Voldemort had been vanquished; it had been a bleak consolation prize for the loss of the man she loved.

Percy blinked away the past as he wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Sorry, but it's a colour one has to be burdened with their whole life to wear properly. Besides," he felt his mouth curve up high on one side, "you haven't the freckles to match."

Tonks tossed her newly pink-haired head and laughed. "You mean it isn't enough to have a Weasley save your life? Ah, bugger."

Percy allowed himself a quiet chuckle even as a flash of blue alerted him to Teddy's toddling presence. There was peace and home, a table full of food and good friends with which to enjoy it.

He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers tracing the length of twisted Muggle wire there as he relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy Teddy's antics, Tonks' laughter, and the background chatter of all who'd gathered to celebrate a year of freedom from tyranny.

All was—mostly—right with the world.