In A Time Of Uncertainty

Part Four, Chapter Eleven

Percy's dreams that night were of being on a ship, one that was navigating through a particularly violet storm. He was on the main deck and trying to go down below with the other passengers, but any time he got remotely near the door in the floor that led to below deck the ship would lurch in a different direction and he slid backwards. His head throbbed and the ship pitched, over and over and over and -

Percy made it into the bathroom just before he vomited. Clutching his stomach, he realized that his forehead was hot and sweaty. He pushed himself up from the floor and staggered back to the bedroom. "Oliver?"

His lover blinked a few times and then sat up with a start. "Perce, what is it?"

"It wasn't a stress thing. I think I really am sick. No, I know I am."

Oliver got out of bed and began to look though the unpacked suitcases on the floor. "When I find the thermometer I'm going to take your temperature. Lie down for a bit."

He did, but the feeling of unstableness remained. "I have to get better. I'm supposed to leave on Saturday."

"If you don't get better, though, you're staying here," Oliver said. "You aren't going abroad to get other people sick."

The relentless part of Percy's mind thought to protest, but he knew it was impossible to leave the house, even, the way he felt. Oliver came back with the thermometer. "Open your mouth. There."

The cool glass under Percy's tongue was a relief, and he was disappointed when it became as hot as the rest of his body. "Once I have your temperature I think you ought to go back to sleep," Oliver said. "When you feel like you can keep something in your stomach I'll make you a potion. I have to go start Aerial Branch training tomorrow, so I'll come and check on you when I can, and either Ron or Ginny will stay with you."

"Grah, ahtah merseea Ronahn Ginneh."

"Don't talk, Percy, just keep the thermometer under your tongue. I don't want you to try and do any work while I'm away, all right?"

"Olveh, yuhmus sunk Ah'm mah."

"Maybe this is a good thing," said Oliver jokingly. "It's already increased your bilingual abilities. Another few seconds, and don't talk."

Percy sat begrudgingly through the half a minute and then gladly surrendered the thermometer. "What I said was, 'Great, at the mercy of Ron and Ginny,' and then 'Oliver, you must think I'm mad.' Work isn't a possibility. Coherent thought isn't a possibility."

He wasn't sure if Oliver was listening; his lover was studying the tiny marks on the thermometer. "Definite fever. Do you feel warm?"

>><><<

"Really warm, like a hearth just after the fire's gone out," Percy heard Ron saying when he woke. "And Oliver isn't back for another fifteen minutes. Do you suppose we ought to wake him up?"

"You ought to get me some of the bloody potion," Percy muttered, barely noting the surprised looks on Ron and Ginny's faces. "I feel like a salamander."

"Right," said Ron, and he quickly exited the room. Percy wondered how long he had been sitting there.

"You've gotten some mail," Ginny said. "From Dung and from Mum. Do you want to read them?"

"You read them to me."

Ginny bent down and picked up a few pieces of parchment from the floor. "'Percy and Wood' - this is the one from Dung, obviously - 'have moved into your flat. Found four books under the bed, very interesting reading material' - he spelled it m-u-t-e-r-i-a-l 'there. Ha.' What is that about?"

"Nothing of great importance," said Percy at once.

"'When George gets out of hospital I'm going to give him your bedroom and sleep in the' - one second, there's a smudge - 'library myself. Wanted Tibblentina to come to flat too but Figgy says she's too young. Sod that. Cane is a bloody nuisance that makes me look like an old man. Hope things are better where you are. Dung. P.S. Figgy has just been reading this over my shoulder and she says I ought to take out 'sod that', as sod apparently comes from' - " Ginny broke off. "This one has another smudge. 'Sodo'...maybe 'sodon'..."

"Sodomite, by any chance?" asked Percy wearily.

"Yeah, that's it. 'Sodomite, and she thinks you lot might be offended. Doesn't care that I'm offended by her reading over my shoulder, though.' That's the end."

At that moment Ron came back with a large steaming goblet, which Percy eagerly took and poured down his throat. It was like ice in his stomach; after a moment he could feel every inch of his body cooling by several degrees. "Thank you. Ginny, could you read the next letter?"

"There are two," she said. "One's for Oliver and one's for all the rest of us, but Ron and I opened both of them anyway. Which one do you want first?"

"You do know it's criminal to intercept other people's mail, don't you?" Percy asked.

"We aren't intercepting it," Ron replied hastily. "Intercepting is when you take it and don't give it back. Ol can read it when he comes home."

"Since when do you call him Ol?"

Ron's cheeks reddened. "I don't know. Why, is there some law against calling him Ol?" He glared at Percy defensively, long and thin arms crossed over his chest.

"No, I just wondered." It was a familiarity, one that seemed a little too soon.

"I mean, it's not like you have exclusive privileges on it."

"Ron, shut up so Percy can pick a letter," Ginny said. "All right, which one?"

"Go ahead with the letter to Oliver."

Ginny cleared her throat and crossed her legs at the ankles, a very good impression of their mother. "'Dear Oliver, I hope that your last match went well and also that the four of you have moved successfully. Arthur and I spent our honeymoon in the Caribbean nearly forty years ago.' I think Mum's really breaking Remus's correspondence rules with this one. How can she not, mentioning where we are?"

"No idea. Keep going."

"New paragraph. 'As much as Ron and Ginny will try to convince you otherwise' - okay, listen to this - 'please remember that they are still mostly children, no matter what they have gone through.' Ron's sixteen! Does that mean that when he turns seventeen in however many months he'll suddenly be an adult? How does she think that we're still mostly children?"

"She's a mum, Ginny," said Percy, wishing Oliver would come home. "Mums never want to think that anyone's grown up."

"'Although I trust that they will keep themselves well occupied and out of the way, assure that they do so.' What's Oliver supposed to do, put tracking devices on our ankles?"

"I don't know. Could you just finish it, without the side comments?"

Ginny shrugged apathetically. "Fine. 'Arthur and I both agree that you have been very kind to Percy' - "

His eyes flew open. "Kind? What am I, Ol's charity case?"

"Hey, no side comments, Perce."

"Shut up. Really, what sort of a thing is that to say? Would she like it if her parents had written a letter to Dad saying 'we both agree that you have been very kind to Molly'?"

"Maybe she just means kind as in, I don't know, loving or whatever," Ron offered.

Percy closed his eyes again, finding his frustration too much of an exertion, and then re-opened them. "Keep going."

"'Arthur and I both agree that you have been very kind to Percy, and that we are happy he has someone who loves him so much. Having said that, I don't want you to feel as though you two must stay together for the sake of his stability. Sometimes romances end, and we will not bear ill will towards you if you decide to leave him.' Wow. She must think you're a right basket case."

Ron was studying Percy's face. "You love him, don't you?" he asked.

Percy blinked. "What sort of a question is that?"

"You do, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I love him. You don't still think I'm in it for the sex, do you?"

"Fred told you that?" Ron yelped. "He's supposed to be on this island somewhere, isn't he, for the Aerial Branch? When I see him I'm going to hex his mouth shut and keep it that way until tomorrow. Sweet Merlin, I can't believe he - "

"I'm finishing the letter!" Ginny interrupted. "'I hope that your work for the Order' - oh, Remus is going to do his nut if he ever reads this - 'goes well and that you find it satisfying. Sincerely, Molly Weasley.' Next letter. 'Dear Percy, Ron, and Ginny, By this time you will have arrived and are hopefully settled in. Mundungus has moved out of the Burrow; unfortunately the ghoul in the attic has not joined him, although he seems to have increased its vocabulary. Say hello to Fred for me, although I'm sending him a separate letter. Love to you always, Mum.'"

"Dear Percy, Ginny, and Ron," said a voice from the corridor. "I have arrived home and hope Percy is feeling better. The first day of training was very strenuous, but not anything I didn't expect. Ron, I nearly tripped over your shoes in the doorway."

"Funny, Oliver," Ron muttered.

"It will interest you to know that Dedalus Diggle has come up with a new way to send charmed letters through the fireplaces with floo powder, so Remus's ban on communication has been lifted." Oliver came in the door and sat down beside Percy on the bed. "Percy in particular should find this to be good news. I wonder if he still intends to write me any poems. Love, Oliver. Did the potion do you any good?"

"I feel cooler," Percy said, "but still like I'm going to be sick at any minute. What time is it?"

"Two in the afternoon."

"I'm never going to be well in time to go to Canada," he groaned. "Never. Who will they send instead?"

"It's your department, Perce. You get to choose."

Dear God, that was all he needed. "How am I supposed to do that? Everyone else already has jobs within the Order. It would have to be..." An idea dawned upon him. "Someone outside of the Order." But could he ask? It was presumptuous, not to mention the fact that it put another person in a dangerous situation.

"Any ideas at all?" Oliver asked.

"Sort of," Percy said, hoping evasiveness would keep him out of trouble.

"Sort of? Is that yes or no?"

In terms of knowledge, it would be a good choice, Percy thought, and she certainly seemed as though she'd - "Ol, when your mother was a reporter for the Prophet, did she have any international experience?"