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By the time he reached the Atrium, Bill was shaking. The memorial to the dead of the wars against Voldemort filled one wall. Bill knew well enough where to find some names – Fred, his Prewett uncles, Tonks, Remus. Suddenly it seemed terribly important to find Alastor Moody's name; he had never looked for it before. He located it at last, and with a curious feeling of satisfaction, touched it with the tip of his wand so that it glowed red amongst the yellow and gold of the other names. "My father," he muttered under his breath. "My father." It did not seem real. Sighing, he lit Fred's name, Fabian's, Gideon's, Tonks' and Remus' before turning away. He had stopped shaking, but his chest and throat felt tight; breathing was difficult. He felt the walls of the Ministry closing in on him. He needed to escape.

He jumped at a touch on his arm.

"Bill? Are you okay?" It was Percy again.

Bill shook his head, swallowing hard. "No. Not really. Just get me out of here, Perce, please."

Percy frowned, but took his arm and guided him towards one of the fireplaces on the far side of the Atrium. He threw in some Floo powder, pulled Bill into the fireplace with him and shouted something that Bill did not catch. Seconds later, he found himself tumbling out of the fireplace in a small and remarkably tidy flat that could only be Percy's own.

Percy shrugged apologetically as he extended a hand to pull Bill to his feet. "I didn't know where you wanted to go."

Bill let himself be guided over to the settee and sat down heavily.

"This is fine, Perce, thanks," he muttered. Percy regarded him worriedly for a few seconds, and then disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a glass of Firewhiskey, which he handed wordlessly to his brother. Bill downed it in one, and began to feel that he could breathe again,

"Thanks," he said, looking up at his brother, who was still standing over him looking worried. "You're a lifesaver. I expect you're wondering what this is all about."

"Well yeah," Percy conceded, coming to sit beside Bill. "It's not like you to react like this to anything. But if it's none of my business…"

Bill shook his head. "No. I want… I want you to know." He took a deep breath. "I found out yesterday that Dad isn't my father."

"What?" Percy regarded him incredulously. "He must be, Bill! You've made a mistake, misunderstood something."

"No," Bill said heavily. "I haven't. I wish I had. Dad confirmed it. He told me just now. My father… My father is Mad-Eye – Alastor – Moody."

"Mad-Eye?" Percy's eyes were round with astonishment behind his glasses. "Mad-Eye and Mother? I can't believe it. I don't believe it! How could that happen?"

Bill held up a hand to silence him. "I don't know how," he said. "I don't know how it happened. Mum refused to talk to me about it yesterday. She wouldn't tell me anything, said I didn't need to know. And-and I just walked out on Dad after he told me it was Moody." He sighed deeply. "I-I shouldn't have done that. Dad's going to think – I don't know what he's going to think." He buried his face in his hands, and Percy had to strain to hear what he said next. "I don't want another father, Percy. I want Dad to be my father." His voice cracked, and Percy put an arm around his shoulders, at a complete loss as to what to say.

He held Bill until his shoulders stopped shaking, and then said quietly, "D'you want me to go and get Dad so you can talk? That seems to me like the best idea."

"Yes… No… I don't know!" Bill balled his fists in frustration. "I don't know what to do, Percy."

Percy stood up. "I'm going to get Dad," he said firmly. "Stay here. I won't be long." He threw some Floo powder into the fireplace, shouted, "The Ministry of Magic!" and was gone.

Left alone, Bill went into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. A small part of his brain registered that there were two toothbrushes in the rack and a pink dressing gown hanging on the hook on the door. At any other time, he would have looked forward to ribbing Percy mercilessly until he found out more about the mystery woman who apparently shared his flat. Right now, however, he hadn't even the energy to speculate about who she might be.

He heard the noise of the Floo in the other room and went in to see Percy helping their father to his feet. He had rarely seen him look so utterly miserable. Without thinking about it, Bill crossed the room in two strides and pulled him into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he choked. "I shouldn't have run out on you like that. I'm sorry. I don't want to lose you. I don't want any father except you."

He felt his father's arms around him, as warm and reassuring as they had always been, and heard his voice thick with emotion. "I don't want to lose you either, Bill. I couldn't bear to lose another son."

Percy had left the room and was noisily making tea in the kitchen, as if to emphasise the fact that he was giving his father and brother some privacy.

"Tell me how it happened, Dad," Bill said. "Please. Just tell me."