chapter 3
The nightmare always ended the same way.
One moment, Fred was alive—grinning, elbow-deep in some ridiculous scheme, tossing a wink at Percy like they had all the time in the world. The next—
Green light. Silence.
Percy woke choking on air, his wand already lit, Lumos casting frantic shadows across his too-empty flat. 2:13 AM. The numbers burned themselves into his retinas.
Not real. Not real.
But his hands shook anyway.
He stumbled to the window, wrenching it open to gulp at the night air. London spread out below him, indifferent to his gasping breaths. Somewhere in the city, George was awake too, staring at the same stars through a different window.
"You'll get yourself killed one day!" Percy had snarled after the Vanishing Cabinet incident.
Fred had just laughed. "Worth it."
And now—
Percy's knees gave out. He caught himself on the sill, fingers digging into the wood until it groaned in protest.
He needed—
He didn't know what he needed.
St. Mungo's - 3:02 AM
The night healer took one look at him—barefoot, sleep-shirt clinging to his sweat-damp back—and reached for the emergency bell.
"No," Percy rasped. The word scraped his throat raw. "Just—Audrey Yaxley. Please."
The healer hesitated. "Healer Yaxley isn't on night rotation—"
"Tell her it's Percy." His vision swam. "Tell her I—"
The admission came out broken.
"I can't breathe."
3:17 AM - Audrey's Office
She arrived in fifteen minutes flat, her hair half-braided, a Healer's robe thrown over Quidditch pajamas.
No questions. No platitudes. Just a steady hand between his shoulder blades, guiding him through corridors that blurred at the edges.
Her office smelled like chamomile and cedar. The enchanted windows showed a snow-capped mountain range tonight—she'd changed it, Percy realized dimly. Changed it for him.
"Here." Audrey pressed a mug into his hands. No caffeine. Never caffeine after nightmares.
Percy stared at the steam. "We never understood each other."
Audrey waited.
"Fred thought I was a joyless bureaucrat." His grip tightened. "I thought he was—"
Reckless. Careless. Wasting his brilliance.
The words turned to ash in his mouth.
Audrey's knee brushed his. "What do you wish you'd said?"
Percy closed his eyes. Saw Fred's soot-streaked face in the Great Hall, grinning like the war was just another prank. "You're joking, Perce! You're actually joking!"
"That I liked his jokes," he whispered.
Audrey's fingers found his wrist—not restraining, just anchoring. "Tell me about the best one."
So he did.
He told her about the singing Prefect badge, about how he'd pretended to hate it but charmed it to keep working. About finding it years later in his Ministry desk, the enchantment still humming under his fingertips.
For one stupid moment, he'd thought—
A sob tore loose.
Audrey didn't flinch. Didn't rush to fill the silence. Just stayed, her thumb tracing slow circles on his wrist as years of "I'm fine" crumbled into shuddering truth.
When the storm passed, she Summoned a blanket.
"Stay," she said.
Not a question.
Never a question with her.
Percy nodded.
As he drifted off, the last thing he saw was Audrey at her desk, grading papers by wandlight. And beside her inkpot—
A single, unopened Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bang.
Waiting.