Love is the Child of an Endless War

Penny, feeling the walls closing in around her, recalled with profound intensity the reason she hated hospitals. They were filled with too many hurt people who could not be fixed. Jasper, thank George, was not going to be one of those people. Her precious curly-haired baby would be fine, if he came out all right of the anesthesia.

In the meantime they all sat huddled in this miserable, cramped waiting room. In this wretched Muggle hospital, surrounded by scratchy beige furniture, and hideous lime green walls. Penny regarded the color with nauseas intensity. If you weren't sick on coming into the room, you surely would be after you got out of it. Her heart pounded so fiercely she could feel it thumping into the back of her throat. That was another uncomfortable physical side effect resulting from the conflicting looks her two husbands, who were sitting on opposite sides of the room, were giving her.

Jasper was the only thing that mattered to her right now, and she was focusing hard on him, but it wasn't easy to ignore Percy and George. Percy's glances warmed her. Penny knew they weren't meant to be deliberately arousing; he just made her hot whenever he looked at her. He had always had that ability. There were times at school, back when she'd been young and care free, if you discounted the wretched snake -induced night horrors she suffered from, that she'd be sitting at the Ravenclaw planks in the Great Hall with her friends, and upon catching Percy's eye across the room she'd become so overwhelmed with lust that her food would turn to sawdust in her mouth and choke her. Occasionally, there were times when he admitted he hadn't even actually been looking at her, he'd been staring into space imagining himself as the Minister of Magic, and it still made her hot. She had always found him that appealing, too sexy to be real. His body sucked her in like it was possessed of a magnetic field. She was never able to resist the pull of his attraction, even if she had wanted to. And to be perfectly honest she never had wanted to.

He was looking better to her now than he used to even, and that was saying a lot. A few months spent traversing the European continent, living mostly out of doors, had turned his pale skin to a fair gold and burnished his bright hair with copper. He wore his hair longer than she'd ever imagined he'd let it grow. It waved becomingly along the back of his long, newly bronzed neck and she longed to reach out and touch it, again. She'd had her fingers twined through it pretty tightly the other night while engaged in a steamy tongue tango with him.

George was giving her glances too, much less attractive periodic stares that could best be described as irked spousal glowering. He was annoyed with her, and she with him. They weren't quarreling, they never really had. Unlike she and Percy who were quite capable of having a go at one another for hours, or even days, at a time, breaking off only to stomp to their separate corners long enough renew their invective, she and George cohabited very peacefully. Whenever George was exceptionally annoyed with her he broke out in a mask of complete indifference. Staring at her while she spent her anger as though he were watching a stranger throw an interesting fit from a distance. Because of the way he had shouted at her in Malfoy's office and later at the Three Broomsticks, in front of Jasper, she knew he was well past being simply annoyed. He was furious.

She had never made him angry enough before to shout at her, with the exception of her failed suicide attempt. Her grief counselor had explained to her at the time that George's response to her had been perfectly normal. That the friends and relatives of people who had attempted suicide were often overwhelmed with rage at what they perceived to be a betrayal and abandonment. She'd warned Penny that George, and even little Jasper, might harbor resentment and anger at her for years and she should be prepared for it to show itself at unexpected times. But with George it never had after that one incident. Long years had passed since he'd been truly angry with her, but he was truly angry now.

Penny was furious with him as well. Rather than coming home to talk things out with her, he had preferred to sulk at his place of business consulting with his solicitors. George enjoyed having people around him who could be paid to tell him what he wanted to know; often he paid them enough to change situations to better suit his liking. But he couldn't change this. Percy was back and Penny was still in love with him. No amount of cash was going to change that situation to his liking. Instead of trying to help her deal with the situation and all of its implications he was in full retreat from their marriage, and last night he'd gotten so drunk he'd retreated even from Jasper. Penny wasn't sure she could forgive George for convincing her to leave Jasper at Hogwarts when every nerve in her body had been screaming at her to bring him home. So she returned his disgusted glowering with her own icy glare, then they both looked down at the floor.

Interspersed among them were Molly, Remus, Fred, Harry and Sophie. All waiting, like she was, to see Jasper in one mending piece. Molly and Sophie were discussing the ramifications of Muggle surgery again. Penny could overhear them talking in the corner and it was making her insane.

"Really, Molly, you must believe me." Sophie was saying, "I have worked with this group of physicians for nearly twenty years. They are perfectly capable of surgically removing Jasper's appendix without killing him. Now, I know it's not like what you're used to, where someone in a ridiculous robe waves a magic stick around and "Acrucios!" things across the room..."

"That's Accio, Sophie," Percy corrected her mildly. He disliked Sophie every bit as much as she disliked him. When she first saw him that day her only comment had been, "Why Percy, how very nice to see you. I've had this feeling for sometime now that you would never stay dead." Percy punned a Muggle cliché in reply and winked at his wife, "Sophie, as astute as you are, I'm not at all surprised you knew I'd keep turning up bad for Penny." George was not amused.

Molly wasn't amused, either. She was a veritable basket case having the health of her darling Jasper in the hands of those Muggle nutters that cut people up and stitched them back together again. George reminded her reasonably that Penny had been made better once by Muggle doctors, and that captured Percy's attention, but he hadn't remarked on it, yet. Penny was glad. She couldn't take a whole lot more of this tension.

Harry saintly kept the conversation casual. Fred might have helped out considerably in that endeavor had he not been so hung over. George still nursed his sick head woefully in his hands and Penny felt somewhat more inclined now to go over to him and soothe it with a temple rub since he'd found Jasper and brought him here in time to save him. She was also inclined to whack him upside it for behaving like a jealous boy when what she needed was a man. At the moment she was mostly inclined to climb into Percy's lap and let him soothe her sorrow and woe. Sitting stiffly in a scratchy chair on her hands, Penny's nerves were pinging so tightly she thought they might snap.

Something about the healthcare profession continually drew her, and Penny wasn't sure what it was. She wanted to fix people; there was a partial reason for it. She enjoyed making people feel better. Maybe because so many aspects of her own life were past fixing she tried to make up for lost time. Or maybe she was punishing herself for having an unfixable life, because she truly hated hospitals and ill people. When she was immersed in a text, or a lecture, she was in fine form. She never had any problems with Potions, or Chemistry, or the textbook diagnosis of ailments of any sort, magical or not. It was when she was faced with genuine flesh and blood suffering that she failed and cringed. Clearly she had failed Jasper in this. He had been genuinely ill for some time now and nobody had noticed it, not even her. Her instincts told her something was wrong, but she'd been so wrapped up in the drama between Percy and George that she'd hadn't reacted to it the way she should have. That wasn't going to happen again.

Percy had told her long ago, when she'd first become pregnant with Jasper and given up her career, that Healers needed to be the kinds of people who didn't need to heal everything. Percy had known then that she was not that type of person; she did need for everything to be right. Penny recognized that impossible need she had in herself more strongly than ever. How there might be a way to make both George and Percy happy she just didn't know. Couldn't even begin to fathom it. If she could only find a spell to split herself in two; George's Penny and Percy's Penny, but then what would be left of herself for the children? Three Pennys would be even better. Likely, though, as distraught and confused as she felt at the moment she'd botch the spell and wind up only a ha'Penny. That wouldn't do anybody any good. They weren't worth anything these days, not even as British Muggle currency.

A surgical nurse came in to tell her that Jasper was waking up and she could go in to see him in a few minutes. Her hard fought-for calm disappeared in a flood of relieved tears and she rushed out of the room before she started to sob. Percy and George both went after her. Remus bet Fred that Percy would reach her first; he had the longer legs. An irritated glance from Molly quelled Remus. Fred, who had rarely ever been quelled by Molly, disputed him, claiming that Remus had no idea how proficient George was at tripping up Percy and keeping him away from his quarry. It was a finely honed skill, perfected over a lifetime.

"I am glad that your Percy is still alive." Sophie confessed patting Molly's hand kindly, "No mother should ever have to endure the loss of a child. And he is a good man, even if he always did irritate the hell out of me." Harry and Fred privately agreed with her, but didn't say so, and Sophie continued with, "Penny has quite a big decision on her hands now. I do wonder which one of them she'll choose."

Molly replied a little acidly, "I don't wonder which one she'll choose, I don't wonder at all. I just hope she does it quickly and gets it over with, it's going to break his heart, but this family has been torn apart long enough."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Jasper looked so fragile and helpless lying in the big hospital bed with tubes running out of his arms that it broke Penny's heart, but she stopped crying for his sake before she walked into the room. "Lo' Mummy," he mumbled groggily, sounding raspy from the effects of the tube they'd put down his throat. "What have they done to me? I feel like somebody's been ripping my guts out."

"Yes, darling, I imagine you do." Penny forced a smile, "Because that's your appendix over there sitting in a jar. All those bad stomachaches you've been having? I'll wager they'll be fewer now."

"I don't feel well, I want to go home. I tried to go home on the underground, but I guess I fell asleep or something. Uncle George found me," Jasper sighed. "I'd begun to think he wouldn't. I buzzed him and buzzed him, but he never came."

There again Penny was torn between boxing George's ears and kissing him insensible, one for the losing of Jasper, and one for the regaining of him. "Well, I guess he lost his mirror, Jasper. It was a mistake, he feels very badly about it and I'm sure he'll tell you so himself when it's his turn to visit with you."

Jasper replied, struggling to keep his eyes open. "I believed that he would come, even if I didn't think it."

Penny had time to ruminate on that for herself while she sat outside of the hospital on a bench. Having given up her visitor's privileges to George and being unwilling to return to the stifling waiting room and the annoying Grandmother routine, she was trying to clear her head with some cold fresh air. Unfortunately Sophie spotted her on the way out. Lighting up a cigarette, she perched her petite blonde body on the bench next to her tall, dark, and buxom daughter and they looked not a thing alike. Penny took after her father; she was Richard Clearwater's daughter, through and through, right down to that stupid magical ability she possessed that had ruined her chances at ever leading a normal life.

"You aren't looking well, Penny." Sophie pointed out insensitively. "Maybe you should try to get some rest. I know you've been worried about Jasper, but at least George had the good sense to bring him to a decent medical facility for treatment, not like your other husband and that mother-in-law of yours with their prejudiced attitudes about all Muggle things. Remember when you were pregnant with Jasper and Percy insisted that you had to be cared for by a witch? What a nut job he's always been. I suppose you're glad to have him back though."

"You shouldn't smoke, Mummy," Penny retorted. "It will shorten your lifespan, and you won't have nearly so many years left to criticize me with."

Sophie shrugged and took a long, deliberate drag. "Why, Penny, can't you or your father wave a stick at me and "Scourgify" my filthy lungs clean? No? Well, why not? Doesn't magic fix everything better than a pitiful Muggle ever could?"

"Mummy," Penny said at the limit of her nerve, "I have had a very bad day. No, I take that back, I have had several very bad days. My baby was missing, now he's hurt and in the hospital. My first husband has returned from the dead and wants me back more than he ever did. My current husband is falling apart at the sight of the competition, and I feel like I am wearing a fork in each eyeball. Could you come back to taunt me later? Or better yet, act like a real mother and offer some comfort to me? This is why I love Daddy better, I hope you know."

Sophie gave Penny a perfunctory pat on the shoulder, "Yes, Penny I know why you love your father better than me. For one thing, he would never dare to be so honest with you as I am. And I will offer you some comfort; since you've asked me so nicely, and I realize you're upset. When I met your father I fell in love with him. He is a very good man, and has always treated me well. You know for yourself that as dippy as he gets sometimes that he couldn't love you any more, or treat you any better, than he does. That's why I have stayed with him these many years, not always happily, even though we are not officially married in his world, or mine. Occasionally, I have found myself a splendid lover and enjoyed him all too well. But I have always gone back to your father for companionship and understanding. My comforting advice to you, dear, is this, when you must choose between a good lover and a good husband, take the husband for life, and keep the lover close to your heart in memory."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Where has everyone gone?" Penny asked Percy on returning to the nearly empty waiting dungeon. Truly, Muggles did have a way of making places every bit as grim in their own way as Wizards did. The surgical waiting room made the prospect of a dungeon positively inviting. Penny couldn't wait for Jasper to be moved up to the pediatrics floor where at least the visitor's room was painted with cheery colors and decorated with fanciful creatures.

"Fred took his head home to put it on ice." Percy replied, patting the seat next to him for her to sit down. That was a good place, she thought, it wasn't on his lap. It wouldn't be nearly so easy to enjoy his delicious French kisses with the arms of two chairs between them. "Harry went back to Hogwarts to halt Malfoy's dragging of the lake. I still can't get over that little git being appointed headmaster." Percy tried to shake down some more of his new reality with a toss of his wavy, red hair. "Mother and Remus have gone to get something to eat. And George is bribing the Muggle hospital administration to let him bring in Jasper's dog for a visit. I guess he's got a few million pounds to go along with his untold galleons these days, huh? How are you holding up, sweetie?"

Penny could feel herself drowning in his applejack eyes. They weren't brown like Ginny's, nor hazel like Fred's and George's, they were in between; the shade of spiced cider. He called her sweetie and it made her want to cry because he had called her by that endearment for so many years and she had been so certain for so very long that she would never hear him say it again, unless it was in her dreams. And if George walked in right now to find her sitting in Percy's lap, his heart would break into a million pieces.

"I'm just relieved, Percy," she said, unable to keep herself from clutching his big hand. "For so many reasons, but mostly that Jasper is okay now. And I am exhausted. Neither George nor I have slept a wink in two days. How are you doing?"

"I would be much better if you would come home with me tonight." Percy told her honestly.

"To sleep in the attic with your mother's ghoul?" Penny joked to ease the tension.

"To sleep with me, wherever I am," he said sincerely with his heart in his eyes, and her heart skipped three beats or so.

"I can't do that, Percy," Penny choked out. "I can't just walk out on George."

"Why not?" he queried with a gut clenching familiar brow quirked in her direction. "I walked across the entire European continent to be with you. How hard will it be for you to take a few steps out of George's front door?"

"Very hard," Penny said quietly, feeling miserable and guilty for so many reasons she couldn't begin to list them all. Where do you put your loyalty when you don't know where it should go? "You make it sound so simple and it's not. I have made a new life with him now, a good life..."

"Oh, yes. You have a very good life with him." Percy interrupted to agree. "I've seen that mansion where you live, and that sweet little car you're driving nowadays. Driving that Jag beats taking the Knight Bus or Floo Powder all to hell I'll bet. George has given you a better life than I ever could have, if money is what matters to you."

"It's not about the money!" Penny protested. "You don't think that little of me, I'm sure."

"I don't think little of you at all. I think about you all of the time. Thinking about you and Jasper was all that kept me alive some days. I love you, Penny," Percy said. "I have loved you forever, and I always will. Are you saying you don't want me anymore?"

"Yes, I want you! What sort of doltish question is that?" Penny snapped. "I wanted you so much I nearly died from it! I couldn't believe you were really gone. I sent Hermes out to find you and told him not to come back without something, anything, any evidence that you still existed in this world. He didn't come home for two months. When he flew in the window, half-dead from exhaustion and toppled over into the sink, I knew it. I knew it was true, and that you were never coming back to me. That's when I tried to join you because I wanted you so much."

Percy had started pacing, running his fingers through his hair. She was dangling by a thread, swaying in either direction; he had to think of the words, the right thing to say, that would push her in his direction to stay. He thought so hard he didn't realize at first what it was she had told him. Wheeling around suddenly, he asked, "What are you trying to tell me? Are you saying that you tried to hurt yourself?"

"No, Percy," Penny admitted looking him in the eye and speaking very plainly. "I did not try to hurt myself. I did hurt myself. I was out of my head with grief, sick unto death pining for you. If it wasn't for George I wouldn't be standing here right now, and you and I would not have had a daughter together. If you had ever sent me the smallest sign, the slightest indication, a whisper on the wind, that you still lived somewhere I would not have ever let myself fall in love with your brother."

"Well, I did try, Penny!" Percy defended himself, feeling unfairly treated and misunderstood. "Do you think I didn't try? Mail owls are in scarce supply in the eastern European hellhole I ended up in! War zones aren't generally known for their communications facilities! I waited too, you know? I waited for years for somebody to come and find me! I figured you'd all forgotten about me, and.... Excuse me? What was that you just said to me?"

"Which part?" Penny asked, leaning forward in her seat, tempted beyond all reason to get up, wrap her arms around him and never let go of him again.

"The part I simply can't bear to ever hear you repeat?" he asked looking positively horrified.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"I can't believe she won't leave him," Percy moaned sobbing into his tea. "I have been jilted. Dear Percy'd. Thrown over for that evil little moron."

Molly and Remus exchanged a disturbed glance over his moping head as they all sat around Molly's kitchen table. The same table that Percy and Penny sat at once, years before, where he'd convinced her that no matter what stupid thing he ever did she was still going to love him forever.

"Percy, dear," Molly sympathized gently. "I know that you're upset and I don't blame you in the slightest. However, I do wish you would stop referring to your brother as an evil moron. George has really become a very good man, he's generous to a fault, terribly kind-hearted, and he's been so loving with your children all of these years."

"You're right, Mother, of course." Percy agreed sniffing pathetically. "I should amend my shattered heart to read that I've been thrown over for that revoltingly wealthy, charitable, evil little moron who has taken such kind care of my children and stolen my wife. There really is no justice in this world."

"I'd say that about sums it up." Remus replied, topping off Percy's teacup and adding another dash and a quarter of Fire Whiskey to it.

"Remus!" Molly said shocked into sounding a rebuke.

"Oh, I meant the part about there being no justice to life, Molly. Not the thing about George being an evil moron," Remus rushed to explain.

"I might have known I'd get no support from you, Lupin," Percy charged bitterly. "After all, you'd play into the George part of the equation if my father suddenly returned from the dead."

Remus gave Percy a rare, but sad, smile. "I needn't worry about that since it is partially my fault that Arthur is dead and I was forced to watch him be murdered with my own two eyes. And, of course, we all saw his corpse at the funeral."

Molly shuddered, and he reached up to pat her hand reassuringly. "We don't need to talk about this now, Remus," she said shakily.

"No," Percy acquiesced, sorry for his snide invective, "none of us blames you, Remus."

"Right," Remus agreed. "I try not to blame myself, either. I did what I could, although as is true so often in life, it ends up never being enough. Your father was a good friend, and I miss him very much. So I never do forget how much he is missing out on and that I am living the life he would have led in his absence." He glanced up at Molly and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.

Percy had a feeling he knew where Lupin was headed with this and he didn't want to hear it, he took big gulp of his medicinal tea, and then added more whiskey.

"I often find myself wondering if I'm doing the right thing by my old friend Arthur," Lupin continued, and Percy forced himself to listen because Lupin didn't offer his opinions up easily, or often. "I hope everyday that I'm treating your mother as well as he would have, and if any of his children ever need anything from me I always ask myself what your father would have done, what he would have said. I don't want to do it all right just for my sake, you see. I have to do everything right for the sake of my friend as well. Percy, do you understand what I'm saying to you? George has been thinking about much more than just himself all of these years. I hope you realize that. You are absolutely right about the one thing, I do see George's half of the equation much clearer than yours."

"You think I should give her up?" Percy asked, red-eyed and belligerent. "That George is entitled to her now? Has he earned the right to my wife in my absence?"

"I think," Remus said slowly, "that you need not give her up. I think that you and Penny can have a loving relationship and raise your children together very well. If only you can bring yourself to admit that she is now another man's wife. Maybe I'm wrong about this, Percy. It would hardly be the first time I've made a serious error in judgment. Maybe you can win Penny over and everything will work out just fine. But there's a lot on the line here, her happiness, the children's, the possibility that the rest of your family's loyalties will be torn between you and George. You were a good soldier in the war; you know better than anyone that a war is easier to start than it is to end. So maybe you are willing to risk it all. Maybe having Penny not just in your life, but in your bed as well is worth that much to you. I guess the question you need to ask yourself is 'Am I gambling man?"

"I think you must ask yourself another question, Percy." Molly added shaken to the core, and trembling from head to toe. "How well do you love your brother? Because your heart has already been broken, will you only be satisfied when his is too? Penny has made her choice, and if you asked me I'd have to tell you that I think you could sway her from it, she does love you still. But would you do it at the cost of George's happiness?"

Percy built a blanket cave under the royal blue velvet duvet on the big bed in his mother's newly renovated attic. He communed with the ghoul. It suited his mood. Talk about an ambush, and partisan parenting. There couldn't have been any more hands in the air during that conversation that favored George's getting to shag Penny for the rest of his life. Unless it had been the night of a full moon, then Lupin could have settled both his front and back paws firmly into George's camp. Remus Lupin was not his father, but he wasn't a bad bloke. Percy admired him and had for many years, ever since he'd taught him Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. He was fair, and thoughtful, if not always entirely truthful, and Percy didn't begrudge his mother the second life she'd found with him. Percy wasn't always entirely truthful either, his days as a double agent required him to become a proficient liar. It was a protection mechanism that had kept his family safe. If he would be truthful with himself now, he'd admit that Lupin's advice was well meant; the right thing to do would be to refrain from playing home wrecker. The problem with that was that Percy didn't give a bloody good damn about doing the right thing anymore. He wanted what he wanted, and he wanted his wife back.

He'd spent too many years of his life already worrying about his sibling's safety and their future. He was tired of being the responsible one, of making the sacrifices; it was time for somebody else to pay. And he couldn't think of anybody more deserving of coughing up a little angst for the sake of his happiness than George was, unless it was Fred. As soon as he got Penny moving beneath him in bed again he'd remind her of the reason they'd gotten together in the first place. Because whatever there was between her and George, it was not a sparking sexual attraction that imbued whatever room they were in together with lightning hot electrical intensity. George might be a decent companion to her; he definitely made enough money to care for her well financially. But what about her physical needs? George didn't give her the kind of soul shattering, spine cracking, intimate experiences that he had and Percy knew it. He could sense that the tension between the three of them had some powerful roots based in sexual jealousy.

Percy had years of practice, necessarily induced by war, picking apart an enemy's defenses, finding the weakest spot and attacking it until nothing was left. Seduction was on his mind, but there wasn't the immediate opportunity for it. He saw Penny every day at the hospital when he went to visit Jasper. It was hardly the ideal circumstance for Percy to reacquaint himself with either one of the people he'd been living for. Penny looked sadder and wearier each time he saw her, although she never failed to greet him with a sweet kiss. George was there too, of course, looking equally weary, but quite a bit sadder than Penny did even. Obviously there was a strong bond between them. Penny had been honest with him about that. But Jasper's sick room was absent the tension that quarreling lovers provide. George and Penny came together over him with virtually effortless ease.

Jasper was not an easy patient. He'd developed a fever after his surgery and it made the little fuss-budget as irritable as all get out. There were enormous dark rings around his luminous blue eyes that made them glow strangely against his flushed and sickly complexion. His black curls were plastered to his sweaty brow. He complained that his incision hurt, he couldn't swallow any nourishing liquids between his pale and parched lips because the anesthesia tube had given him a sore throat, and he couldn't go to sleep unless his mother or his uncle stayed in the room with him. George and Penny were supposed to be taking turns spending the night with him. Invariably however, Percy walked into Jasper's room every morning to find both of them there, hollow-eyed, and hoarse, falling over one another to tend to the fuss-budget's needs.

One morning a few days after Jasper's surgery all three of them left him sleeping, and went down to the dining hall together for a cup of tea and some breakfast. When they came back Jasper was distressed because an underpaid and overworked nursing aide had scolded him for messing with his intravenous drip. George raised such a ruckus with the hospital administration that to appease the gazillonaire wizard bloke who passed out one hundred pound notes like small change the nursing aide was removed to a floor that housed less sensitive patients. Penny suggested to the aide's face that he might want to try caring for flobberworms instead of children. Of course, the aide didn't know what flobberworms were. He thought Penny was just a whacked out rich bitch, but the tone of her voice left little doubt about her opinions of his professional capabilities, and he was relieved she hadn't had him made redundant.

Penny and George were on the edge. Percy didn't have the heart to cause them one more ounce of difficulty or worry. He offered his services as relief parent, but they were declined. Entertaining one ill and cranky little boy for a night to give his parents a break wouldn't have been any great challenge for him. He had been a good father to Jasper once, even if it seemed like it had happened in another lifetime. He'd done his share of nights spent walking the floor because Jasper had been a colicky baby. He'd been there with Penny through double ear infections, and projectile vomiting, and the time Jasper swallowed a button. He'd also played relief parent countless times for his younger siblings when his own parents collapsed from the effort of tending too many under the weather children. He'd taught Ron how to play chess during an outbreak of the Dragon Pox. He'd read The Comic Book Adventures of Martin the Mad Muggle out loud to Fred and George so many times he'd memorized it during a brutal bout of the Mongolian death flu. The twins never admitted to it; all of his good deeds had been conveniently swept under the rug of his bad so far as they were concerned.

The main reason for the rejection of his offer though seemed to rest with Jasper himself. He was always coolly polite to his father, though he might have gotten away with being rude because he was so ill. Penny and George were letting a lot of things slide under the circumstances. However, when Fred visited with him Jasper laughed until he thought one of us stitches had popped and George made Fred go home. Harry got a wide grin when he snuck a soft, furry, Niffler in to see his nephew. And Jasper cuddled angelically with his Gran, who plainly favored Percy's son every bit as much as she had favored Percy himself. Percy hadn't the knack for dealing with Jasper that the rest of his family did, but he figured with time enough he'd develop a knack of his own. So he persisted in visiting his indifferent and crabby son, trying to help his harried brother and his wife as well as Jasper allowed. And when he wasn't doing that he spent his time at The Burrow becoming acquainted with Princess Phillipa, his heretofore-unknown daughter, who was staying there in the interim of her brother's illness. Percy found Phillipa had a much better attitude towards him, which came as no surprise because girls had always liked him better.

Still, Percy hadn't given up on his mission to regain his family from his sibling usurper. Before he'd left Hogwarts in his seventh year Percy had been mock elected 'Most Likely to Lead a Regimented Army'. He would have elected himself most likely to be a writer, or statesmen, but there was just no predicting the future back then. His classmates had done a bang-up job of it anyhow. When the war was in full force he'd led Wizards into battle with the best of them, and ranked Lieutenant General before it was over. Had never lost one of the soldiers committed to his care, either, except for the fate of the girl lost forever in Romania. But Percy paid eight years of his life for that one mistake, and he wasn't about to pay anymore.

Eight years was a long time to be without his wife, to have gone without the solace of physical love, but foreign prisoners of war weren't given a lot of consideration for their physical needs. As a result Percy had remained purely faithful to Penny, even on the rare occasions when he'd been given the opportunity not to be. He was beginning to regret it now. It really wasn't fair to blame her for having moved on. But having moved on to George? That was tough to swallow. What could she possibly see in him? Percy couldn't credit it. Their faces were so strained and pale when he saw them together he'd have bet his new wand, twelve inches, hickory, that they weren't getting on very well even if they weren't making it obvious to the world in the way that he and Penny often had.

He would have been right. Even though Percy wasn't normally a gambling man, his bets typically paid out. Penny and George suffered under the serious strain of having a child hospitalized because he was too ill to be cared for at home. Then there was that little six foot two inch difficulty that had cropped up between them. They remained cordial and civil to one another as always. Eight years of hardly ever feeling cross, or quarreling, made for good relations in even a bad time. For Jasper's sake they remained calm and friendly, but they weren't feeling particularly close to one another or inclined to share any intimacies. Sleeping stretched out on separate visitors cots in Jasper's room every night didn't exactly inspire them to indulge in any private conversations or affections, either. Penny occasionally still had the urge to smack George upside the head, but she didn't. George would have liked to knock Percy unconscious, but he didn't give in to his urges, either.

As a result, George was quite testy, curiously short tempered and sharp. When Molly snuck a batch of "Pepper-Up" potion into Jasper and bullied him into swallowing it, George lost his temper. The potion may have reduced Jasper's fever some, but it also made steam roll out of his ears, and caused his stomach to heave painfully where it had been incised for the extraction of his appendix. "But I've given "Pepper-Up" potion to every one of my children for years!" Molly protested feeling injured by her son's ire. "Look at the good it always did for Ginny!" There were some instances where Muggle medicine and magical healing were clearly not compatible. George was hard pressed in the moment to explain that calmly to his mother. He handed the security staff a hundred pound note and saved himself from being escorted out of the building for disturbing the patients. Percy felt wryly amused observing the scene from the shadows.