Percy Weasley stepped off the lift, sighing heavily as he headed for the exit of the Ministry. It had been an exhausting day of make-believe. Contrary to what he had lead his family to believe, he was not as wrapped up in the fluke of a ministry as it appeared.
Once outside of the public loos that disguised the entrances, he started the walk to his usual bus stop. He preferred riding the muggle buses rather than apparate, mostly because it helped him to disassociate himself from the kleptocracy that the wizarding world had turned into.
He turned on the light in his flat, staring tiredly at the dreary, blank walls that surrounded him. He had never missed the chaos and colour of the Weasley home more for granted while he lived with her, too.
His eyes were drawn to the corner, where an unsuspecting cabinet sat on top of the floor. Under the worn wood, there was a hidden room that had rows upon rows of filing cabinets. About half of them were currently full, magically enlarged and stuffed with paperwork and files copied and stolen from the puppet-government.
Pius Thicknesse, even before he was placed under the Imperius Curse, had always been an utter idiot. No one had even thought to suspect Percy, the most unassuming member of the Weasley clan. No one had thought to check to make sure his loyalties lay with the Ministry, and by proxy, Voldemort.
So he was using his current ambiguity to gather as much incriminating evidence on the British Ministry and its employees as possible, both to condemn the guilty and to pardon the innocents. He had no doubt that he would not make it through the war, but he would do as much as he could while he was still able to.
Only two things kept Percy going any more. One was the reassuring thought that the ministry itself wasn't going to last much longer, either. Thicknesse had tried his best to distract the neighbouring governments, and to gloss over the atrocities being committed under his administration, but it would only work for a little longer.
The French Ministry was starting to get suspicious, and the American had already started the process of a formal investigation. He knew their spies from the Magical division of the Central Intelligence Agency had gathered enough information to force the ICW to take action. It would only be a matter of time, now.
The only other thing that kept the red-headed paper-pusher going was his fiancée. Penelope Clearwater had been a constant by his side from the moment he started dating her in his seventh year. Without her, he was nothing.
He had no doubts that is was only her rational presence that prevented him from simply keeping his head down, following the new rules, and turning a blind eye like all the rest. She was his rock and foundation, his port in the storm. Without her, he was lost.
It was the reason that he had gone to such lengths to get her out of the country. The Muggleborn Registration Committee had opened her file, and he had promptly whisked her away to France. He had not seen or contacted her in months, but she was safe. That was all that mattered.
So Percy Weasley waited, and he gathered. Every time he was sent to the records room for some menial task, he duplicated all the new files and brought them home. When he dropped of files for the minister, he stole every scrap of information on Thicknesse's desk.
And once he was done? Every evening, he removed his memories and stored them, neatly labelled, in phials in the room. Even if he countered a powerful legillimens, they would find nothing.
No one suspect him, it seemed, except one person; the one person that could very likely bring his plans crashing down around him. The moment he had stepped into his office the next day, he had found Dolores Umbridge waiting for him.
"Mr. Weasley. I was just telling the Minister how suspiciously you were acting the other day."
Percy looked up, calmly. He sincerely doubted she had swayed the minister much, if at all. Voldemort didn't allow his minion much range in free thought. It was very likely that whatever she had said to him had gone in one ear and out the other.
"Oh? What did he say, then?"
Umbridge scowled at his lack of reaction. "I recommended a full investigation of your loyalties and actions."
Percy noted with a calm smugness that she had not answered his question.
"Did you now? Well, I'll be on the watch for a probation letter. Thank you for your warning."
The nasty woman scowled at his implied dismissal, and stood. Percy noticed with disinterest that she wasn't much taller than she was sitting down.
She glared at him from the door. "I've got my eye on you, Weasley. I know what no-good blood-traitors like you are really like. You're a blood-traitor, and you always will be. You'll slip up one day, and I'll be the one to get you."
"Thank you for your concern, Madam Umbridge. I hope that you'll forgive me for saying, but today does not appear to be that day, and it appears that you're awfully far from your department. Good day."
With a swish of his wand, he closed his door in her face. He really hated the blasted woman. After seeing the torture she had inflicted on the Hogwarts students, there was nothing he wanted more than to jinx her until she couldn't tell up from down.
She had been a menace to everyone from the minute she had gotten back into a position in power. Somehow, she had managed to worm her way onto the Muggleborn Registration Committee, a feat in and of itself unusual, considering she was a half-blood herself.
Umbridge had loathed and suspected him from the moment that his "ex" girlfriend disappeared. Percy knew getting her away was risky, but there was no way he could have just let that toad get her hands on his only hope in the darkness.
He was left to silently fume at the stupidity of it all, forcing his features stoic as he filed more paperwork. He might be in his office, but that didn't mean he was alone. Umbridge was probably having him monitored at all times.
It was with a particular feeling of relish that he copied and stole her entire ledger of muggleborns later that evening. It would be an absolute disaster for the toad of a woman if every muggleborn that she hadn't yet gotten her grubby hands on was sent an explicit warning by the muggle mail, wouldn't it now?
~~oo00oo~~
Almost a year later, Percy Weasley sighed as he looked at his desk, cluttered with more paperwork than he could deal with right now. Years ago, when he was a younger man, perhapse this mess would have instilled a feeling of purpose in him, but now it only furthered the sensation of disgust.
His current position in the reformed Ministry was head evidence coordinator for the conviction of war crimes. His files of evidence, which grew so large that he had had to make a second hidden room towards the end of the war, had been the saving grace for overthrowing the puppet-ministry Voldemort had run.
His files had been used to overthrow so many corrupt pricks, and degreased the palms of many a slimy politician. Unbidden, a memory popped up, and he let a smile flit across his ragged face as he remembered the fall of his greatest nemesis.
Percy had had an exhausting day in the Ministry again. He closed his eyes for a minute as the previous kleptocrat was escorted out by the Aurors. The evidence he had left to present was thankfully getting smaller and smaller every day.
A woman in an atrocious pink outfit was brought out from the holding cell, where she was bound to the chair in Courtroom Four. The Wizengamot's condescending looks fell harshly on another accused government worker, and some of the younger members hissed at the sight of the oversized bow.
"Dolores Jane Umbridge, you are brought here today under the crimes of murder, accomplice to murder, torture, three-hundred and forty-nine counts of denying trial, embezzlement, destruction of civilian property, and four-hundred sixty-one uses of the Unforgivable curses. How do you plead?"
Umbridge smiled, her sickeningly sweet voice painful to Percy's ears. "I plead not guilty."
"Very well. I call Percy Weasley of the Criminal Evidence Department to show the evidence against the accused."
Percy stepped out from the side, levitating a table of documents behind him.
"Thank you, your honour. I must admit, Ms. Umbridge has given me a staggering amount of paperwork to show you."
Umbridge's toad-like face reddened, her eyes popping out of her head. "You! I knew it! I knew you were no good!"
"Thank you for your opinion, Ms. Umbridge. Please hold your comments until all of the evidence has been presented."
The toad-like woman had purpled violently, and Percy thought that if she wasn't so dull and stupid, he might actually fear revenge.
Umbridge had been convicted to life in Azkaban, and Percy doubted she would last long. Although the dementors were gone, the prison was no more hospitable than it had ever been, just more likely to have you live out your entire sentence. The prisoners had taken to their own pecking order, and Percy had no doubt she would be at the bottom.
She had sworn revenge on him, screaming that she should had had him 'taken care of' while she had the chance. She was completely right, too. She should have, and she certainly tried.
Somehow, he had managed to make it through the war, despite Umbridge's attempts at him. He had managed to hide well enough to avoid the brunt of the attacks, and by the time he stepped into the light, it was too late for the dictatorship to do anything. He had taken his place at the Battle of Hogwarts, and had somehow managed to survive.
Many had not. Tonks, Lupin, Colin. His breath hitched in his throat. Fred. The younger twin had always been his favourite brother. His energy and bravery had made Percy look on with envy. It really should have been him to die, he thought. George would never be quite the same.
But his wife had drilled it into him that it wasn't his fault. He looked down at his desk, where she smirked up at him from their wedding picture. Life moved on, she said, and there wasn't anything he could do now except live for his brother.
And live he would. A smile grew on his face as he looked at the other picture on his desk. His beautiful wife and young son waved enthusiastically, beaming up at him. Fred Arthur Weasley had been born just after the end of the war. Finally, he had a family. Finally, he had something to live for.
Umbridge had been convicted to life in Azkaban, and Percy doubted she would last long. Although the dementors were gone, the prison was no more hospitable than it had ever been, just more likely to have you live out your entire sentence. The prisoners had taken to their own pecking order, and Percy had no doubt she would be at the bottom.
She had sworn revenge on him, screaming that she should had had him 'taken care of' while she had the chance. She was completely right, too. She should have, and she certainly tried.
Somehow, he had managed to make it through the war, despite Umbridge's attempts at him. He had managed to hide well enough to avoid the brunt of the attacks, and by the time he stepped into the light, it was too late for the dictatorship to do anything. He had taken his place at the Battle of Hogwarts, and had somehow managed to survive.
Many had not. Tonks, Lupin, Colin. His breath hitched in his throat. Fred. The younger twin had always been his favourite brother. His energy and bravery had made Percy look on with envy. It really should have been him to die, he thought. George would never be quite the same.
But his wife had drilled it into him that it wasn't his fault. He looked down at his desk, where she smirked up at him from their wedding picture. Life moved on, she said, and there wasn't anything he could do now except live for his brother.
And live he would. A smile grew on his face as he looked at the other picture on his desk. His beautiful wife and young son waved enthusiastically, beaming up at him. Fred Arthur Weasley had been born just after the end of the war. Finally, he had a family. Finally, he had something to live for.
~~oo00oo~~
Hey guys, I know it's been a while, so here's a new thing to pull you guys over until I get some more things finished. This chapter is dedicated to the lovely TurtleKier42 for her birthday, which I sadly was not able to finish this by. Anywho, happy belated birthday!
~Joan McCreedy