Percy Ignatius Weasley first realized what he wanted to do when he was five years old. He had learned that Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who. He thought, I want to do something heroic like that!

However, he could not come up with a feat that would be both heroic enough, something he'd want to do, and plausible. So, as he matured, he broadened the requirements. It might not be something he'd enjoy, and it might not seem heroic at the moment, but in the end, people would love him.

Percy matured further and decided that it didn't matter if people liked him as long as he was doing something good. After all, people didn't like him much, anyway. He acted like a prat, as his brothers never ceased to mock him, and always followed the rules and utilized surplus vocabulary than necessary to convey his opinions. They didn't seem to realize the Gryffindor traits in his heart, acting like he was a Slytherin who would betray him for his own ambition. He only said he'd go into the Ministry because that's what they'd expect of him.

In his fifth year he started to think, maybe I should just leave them and join the Ministry when I graduate if that's what they want. But Harry Potter's incident with Professor Quirrel shook him to his core. Percy realized, You-Know-Who—I should say his name, Voldemort—will come back one day. How best can I stop him?

Surely, he thought, surely You—Voldemort will invade the Ministry. That's where everything happens. He wouldn't even have to try very hard, what with His connections. And how could he fight the best? I have to join the Ministry. It's what he told Professor McGonagall he would be striving for. It's what everyone expected of him. It's what his twelve O.W.L.s reflected.

Of course, if he were to fight Voldemort from inside the Ministry, he'd have to try to act like he was with them. Percy was Pureblooded, after all, even if he was a Weasley. He had to convince them he was with them. And he couldn't act any different, or like Professor Quirrel's death had shaken him. He couldn't let his family in on it, because anybody who knew was a liability. Also, they'd try to stop him.

Percy gradually drifted away from his family during the summer. He sent less letters during his sixth year, even though he'd had Hermes for over a year now. He made an effort to avoid his brothers (not his sister, not Ginny, not yet) by studying more and driving them off with threats of point loss whenever he saw them. The Chamber darkened everybody's mood, and who could blame Percy if he was a bit distant that summer? He got to see Bill but loads of bad thing happened, like the twins almost successfully shutting him in a tomb and Voldemort's right-hand man escaping from Azkaban. It only furthered his convictions that Voldemort would come back and he had to invade the Ministry.

Seventh year was Hades with N.E.W.T.s coming up, Dementors, and his added responsibility as Head Boy. Dumbledore himself scolded him on Halloween. Sirius Black snuck into Gryffindor Tower and for a humiliating moment, Professor McGonagall blamed him. He couldn't count the number of times throughout the year he threw his glasses across the room from stress and had to repair them. Finally, the year was over, his siblings hated him, and Mr. Crouch asked him to be his assistant. Mr. Crouch never referred to him by the correct name, not even when surrounded by Weasleys like at the World Cup, but that's a small price to pay for infiltrating the Ministry and spying for the light.

The TriWizard Tournament was the perfect chance to prove he was really with the Ministry. Percy didn't speak a word about it to his younger siblings, as his superiors had told him, and convinced his older brothers not too, either. He got to be back at Hogwarts for part of the Tournament after Mr. Crouch took ill, which let him show everybody how Pro-Ministry he was. It was another humiliating time in his life when it came out that Mr. Crouch's son had been (Percy shuddered) Imperiusing him.

What was not nearly as embarrassing, but much worse, was when Harry Potter and Headmaster Dumbledore announced that Cedric Diggory died (Percy lived right next to them! He'd known them for years!) and Voldemort had risen again. Though he'd been preparing for it, it came as a shock. When asked, he was a good little brainwashed Ministry boy and denied His return. Secretly, he planned much more thoroughly.

It tore at Percy to get into a shouting match with his father and leave for his flat in London. Once again, he'd known it was a possibility, but to go through with it hurt. Now that he didn't have his mother to stop him, he worked hours and hours on end without pesky things like bathroom, lunch, sleep, or shower breaks. Percy couldn't count the amount of coffee he ingested per day or the number of times he passed out. When he started to smell, he would only scourgify himself.

The months passed in a blur. He couldn't even recall sending Ron the pompous letter or sending Mum's sweater back. The Ministry had little corruption when he started and now was nothing but corrupted, though it was still subtle to those outside the Ministry. As for Percy, it was getting harder and harder to determine what parts were the mask and what parts were his true self.

When he was put in charge of Muggleborns, it seemed like Merlin chose him personally. He took every opportunity to lose paperwork and free them. To counter, he got friendly with the Purebloods (Death Eaters) in charge, hung out with them, and explained that his work wasn't exemplary because his annoying Blood Traitor relations still didn't comprehend that he would hate them unless they stopped being Blood Traitors. "It's annoying and frustrating," Percy told them. "The Minister forced me to visit them over Christmas—they've only gotten worse."

His mouth burned every time he lied about his feelings toward his family. Even now, he wasn't used to it. (He'd shaken all over when he wrote the letter stiffly thanking Mum for the invitation to Bill and Fleur's wedding and declining it. No doubt they thought it was out of anger rather than nerves or melancholy. The twins had sent him a letter with the official Ministry Seal and a hex to make him speak in Iambic Pentameter. The joke was on them, though, because Percy'd gotten quite good at it.)

The Purebloods (Death Eaters) in charge tried to get him to join Voldemort. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he was not going to walk around with a Dark Mark on his arm for the rest of his life. Percy said, "No thanks, I wouldn't be much help. I'm a terrible duelist, and the moment any of my Blood Traitor relations found out, they would murder me."

"You wouldn't let them find out."

"There's nine of them, they're all stubborn, and they yank up my sleeves whenever I have the misfortune of seeing them."

The Purebloods (Death Eaters) he was talking to weren't intelligent enough to find a way around this except not getting a Dark Mark. When they took him to see Voldemort, they somehow made a good enough case that Voldemort agreed and left his arms unmarked. That didn't mean Percy didn't work with him, though.

He was given the job of torturer. He could visit Malfoy Manor whenever and torture prisoners for information. As much as he loathed it, it was a great way to blow off some steam. Plus, he had an excuse for eavesdropping on their schemes. As well as the fact that he could manipulate other Death Eaters while in private. They hardly ever killed people now, just kidnapped them for torturing. Torture may be terrible, but at least they were alive.

Percy couldn't count the number of times he cast a crucio. He got so good at it, he barely had to think about it to cast. Another good one was obliviate and imperio.

One day everybody was whispering to each other. Everywhere he walked, they muttered and murmured and hissed at each other quietly. Finally, he entered a room that led to the dungeons where they were keeping people and found none other than Harry James Potter, Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Hermione Jean Granger. They recognized him instantly.

Granger just gaped.

"Percy?" Ronald, heartbroken.

"You're a Death Eater!" Potter, accusing and rage-filled. All eyes turned to him.

"Death Eater. Do you really think my annoying Blood Traitor relations would let me be a Death Eater?" He rolled down his sleeves. "I just believe in their ideals and help out when I can."

LeStrange, the insane women one, eyed Percy eagerly like she just realized he was useful. "You were around him for years. Is this Harry Potter?"

Percy carefully considered his options. He decided on, "Well, I can't be sure. His face is different, and it's been a long time since I've seen him. I tried to avoid my Blood Traitor relations and their annoying Mudblood friends." At this, the trio's faces hardened. "But I wouldn't count him out. He's too similar." Now they scowled deeply.

Having done his duty, Percy snuck away first chance to make sure he didn't act on his urge to blow his cover and free them.

Later, he found that they escaped without his help. He celebrated as much as he dared with the Death Eaters watching.

Several weeks passed in a blur, or more, or less, he couldn't find the energy to count. He didn't see any of his family, not once. Percy found himself disconnected from his actions and losing hope. He stopped doing anything resembling resistance, and only laughed when he saw somebody in pain. Which was often, considering he tortured people on a daily basis.

On the first of May, a man showed up knocking at his door. The man cheerfully explained that he was Imperiused and that there was a battle going on at Hogwarts, looking to be the dark lord's victory. Weasley should show up immediately. Then the curse broke and he fainted. Of course Percy helped the poor wizard, gave him some spare Wiggenweld Potion just in case, and left him comfy on the couch.

Then, as his youngest brother was sure to have told everybody about his status as a Death Eater helper, he disguised himself as much as he dared. He reducio'd some of his bones, making himself considerably shorter. He popped on the spare glasses he'd bought months ago with charms to colovaria his eyes grey. He colovaria'd his hair black, then charmed it straighter and longer. His dressed in transfigured feminine clothing complete with gloves and a bra that covered all of his skin except his face. Freckles were covered with makeup to make himself less pale, and lips were colovaria'd black. TL;DR he turned himself into a convincing short brunette girl without a Polyjuice.

Percy Ignatius Weasley would never do this, or so his family thought. They'd never suspect. He could put off his family confronting him until after the battle or never.

The battle passed in an exhilarating, horrifying blur, like lots of things had been doing lately. At one point, some strong guy tried to take him aside and rape him. The Death Eater was very disappointed when he found a dick and gave Percy the chance to send a bombarda at his head. It was his first kill, and after that killing became easier than casting a lumos.

When Voldemort announced that Harry Potter was dead, Percy lost it and would have killed everyone within three feet of him with accidental magic, if there were any. He ran off to a small room in the dungeons, miraculously still standing, and passed out there for the remainder of the battle.

When he woke, only the makeup was still there. He'd lost his glasses at some point near the end and the rest faded, as magic tends to do, especially after one rests for a while. Percy got rid of the makeup with a quick scourgify and passed out again.

He woke in a cell at the Ministry. He'd been lucky enough to be found by someone that, while knowing of his public status as a Death Eater helper, wasn't cruel enough to kill him on the spot and instead brought him to the Ministry. Percy laughed in relief at his continued life, the noise prompting the guards to find out what the ruckus was.

"Weasley," one of them snarled. "What do you have to laugh about?"

"You lost, Death Eater. Your trial is in three days. May 7th. Don't make us speed it up."

Percy could only laugh harder in knowing that, though he didn't know why. Perhaps he was finally breaking down? They threatened him more but couldn't get him to stop. Finally, they gave up.

"Weasley wants his trial now!" the guard called.

"Ooh, bring him out!" somebody responded.

An incarcerous bound and gagged Percy, and they dragged him to a dark room outside of a trial chamber where shouting could be heard. They waited and waited and waited. Eventually it came to a conclusion.

"Bring Weasley in!" somebody shouted from inside. He wondered momentarily how they learned that he'd be going next while the previous trial was still going on. Then the doors opened, spilling bright light, and they dragged him in.

The full Wizengamot, or what was left of it, was in session. In the audience, the full Weasley family (except the twins) and other people he knew were in attendance. His mum wasn't crying, but looked like she had just. Everyone else gave him expressions of the highest loathing.

They took in his appearance. Percy wondered how his rat's nest looked, how much filth covered him, how sunken and pale his face was. He couldn't remember the last time he cut his facial hair, so that probably looked terrible, too. He felt weak. Well, if it was the fourth of May, he hadn't eaten in a while. Not that he wasn't used to it.

One in particular sat where the Minister should. Pius Thicknesse was dead, he'd killed him personally what felt like barely an hour ago. Percy had no clue who this man was, but the man was apparently overseeing his trial.

"We come here today to witness the trial of Percy Ignatius Weasley. Mr. Weasley, you have been charged with multiple counts of the Cruciatus Curse, the Imperius Curse, the Memory Charm without a license, and conspiracy to overthrow the Ministry. How do you plead?"

His gag was removed. "I plead guilty," he said, voice scratchy and raspy. The crowd gasped. "To everything but the last one."

Caught off guard, the man in charge just said, "Oh." He whispered to some people sitting next to him, then commanded, "Bring in the Veritaserum Administer!"

It took a moment but some woman came in with a tiny bottle. She walked over. Percy couldn't find the energy to do anything but let her give him one, two, three, four drops of Veritaserum.

Wait, four? Everyone knows three is the maximum. What would four—Percy blacked out.

"Percy woke up coughing and spluttering. His throat burned like he had talked himself hoarse between the time when he was given the Veritaserum to when he woke up.

The court waited for him to stop coughing. He didn't. The Veritaserum Administer finally cast an aguamenti straight into his mouth and he swallowed gratefully.

He looked up to where most of his family had been sitting. They were all gone, now.

"Raise your hand if you believe Mr. Percy Ignatius Weasley is guilty on the counts of Cruciatus Curse." Nobody raised their hand. The man in charge repeated it for the Imperius Curses, Memory Charms, and conspiracy one. "Mr. Weasley, you are free to go."

The incarcerous was removed, and he fell over. He passed out again.

Percy woke to someone talking. It was Bill.

"...n't really want to believe you were a Death Eater, Percy, but the evidence was all there. Dad said you were on the Muggleborn Registration Commitee and didn't stop them once. We didn't hear from you, didn't see you around anymore. You were friends with all of them! But I guess you weren't, huh? I should have known. You're a Weasley through and through.

"I dunno if you know about Fred yet. He was hurt in the battle and hasn't woken yet. The Healers say he's getting better. They think he might wake up. George, of course, hasn't left his side. Don't worry, he knows about your trial." Bill paused here.

Percy took the opportunity, "That's a relief." He opened his eyes to find himself in his old room at the Burrow. Everything was the same, or as close as they could be when he didn't have his glasses.

Bill lit up like he'd cast a partum gaudium*.

"Percy!" He stood, fell on the bed, and locked his arms around him. Percy smiled, mentally grimacing at how weak he still felt. Not as bad as during the trail, but still pretty bad. He hadn't eaten much in general since leaving the Burrow, but he really hadn't eaten in the weeks before the Battle of Hogwarts. Once every three days, if that. Over time, it hurt.

"How much of that did you hear?" Bill asked, releasing him.

"Since you started talking about Fred," Percy lied. He didn't know why, but he didn't want Bill knowing he heard his words before they were about Fred.

"Okay, good," Bill said. He yawned and stretched. "Sorry, I've been up here a while. I hate to have to tell you this, Percy, but...well...nobody else wants to see you."

"Oh." Percy felt more like Bill had punched him in the gut, which was bad considering his weak stomach. He tasted bile in his mouth and choked it back down. Not even Ginny? He'd always felt the closest to her. She was the only one he hadn't distanced himself from in his sixth year.

"They all just want to see Fred," Bill continued, seeming oblivious. "So when he wakes up, I'm sure they'll come see you."

"I want to see Fred."

"Nope. No leaving the house for you. Which reminds me...breakfast! I'll be back!" He left. A couple minutes passed. Then Bill informed him that they were the only ones home, and Fleur would be back from cleaning up work sometime around four. The six Weasleys visiting Fred wouldn't be home until he could go home or it got too late, which was around eight.

Days passed. Percy didn't count how many. No matter how early he woke up, the Weasleys would always be gone before he could see them. No matter how late he stayed up, the Weasleys wouldn't be back. Percy got closer to Bill and Fleur—now, if somebody asked which brother was his favorite, he would say Bill. And Fleur, though he'd heard some stories from her about how his family treated her, was a kind woman.

On May 11, Bill said he could leave the house to walk around the yard. On May 18, he could visit Fred. Which he did first thing.

St. Mungo's was busier than he'd ever seen. Lots of people in lots of different wards. It was so overwhelming, Bill had to guide him through the hospital to Fred.

Mum, Dad, Charlie, Ron, and Ginny were outside. They didn't react when they saw Percy. "It's three at a time. George is inside...nobody wants to be in there when he's with Fred."

Bill and Percy ignored this and entered anyway. Fred looked peaceful, not mischievous, and perfectly healthy—like he was just asleep. There was a chair on one side of his bed, but George wasn't in it. He kneeled on the opposite side and stroked Fred's hair. He didn't react to Percy, either. Bill took the chair when he saw Percy wasn't going to.

"Why won't he wake up?" Percy asked softly.

"They don't know," George replied in an angry, mocking voice. "He's fine. He should be awake, but isn't."

A couple minutes passed in silence. Then Percy noticed Fred's shoes had sleep runes inscribed on them. He grabbed his wand and silently cast two diffindos to cut them off.

Fred's hand twitched.

"Fred?" George asked as it kept twitching.

Fred coughed, "George," making it come out all garbled.

Bill rushed out of the room. "He's awake!"

The nine Weasleys, regardless of how many were supposed to be in the room, were all in Fred's hospital room at the same time. They cried tears of relief. Then Fred remembered Percy.

His voice still full of loathing, Fred snarled, "Percy? What are you doing here?"

It reminded Percy of when he woke up in that cell. He rolled down his sleeves. "I'm not a Death Eater, and I never was. The Ministry gave me a trial three days after the battle."

With every member of the family awake and having forgiven Percy, now all that was needed was the rest of the magic world. Tales had spread lightning-fast of the Evil Weasley Brother, becoming more twisted and terrible every time. Could Percy survive these rumors?

*Incantation for the Cheering Charm