A/N: This was written as an audition piece for thegoodgirldoll's Writing Your Butt Off and Typing Until Your Fingers Bleed Contest. I hope it's good enough to get me to the next round!
Percy had always wanted to be in the Ministry. Ever since he was a little boy, watching his father pack his briefcase and hop into the fireplace to go to work, it had been his dream. There was so much that could be offered, he was sure of it! So much that he could help with inventing and improving.
And it offered good money, if one landed a position like Percy wanted. Money that his family needed more than anything. Magic could only provide the family of nine with so much and, having but one member of the family working, the galleons that provided the rest were few and far between.
So Percy left the mischief to his younger brothers, who gladly made enough for the three of them, and he buckled down and focused on his school work. Focused on impressing the teachers so he might get a recommendation. Focused on getting everything just right so that he could get his application in, not on time, but early.
His brothers laughed at him for it. Fred and George constantly berated him for spending so much time on his work. Ron thought that he was being a prat over it. Bill and Charlie thought that it was a nice idea but one that he was taking far too seriously. But not a single one of them were providing for the family, not even the two with such well-paying jobs.
It was still just their father, with his low-paying job, that brought in the paycheck.
That only made Percy work even harder. After all, if he didn't help out then who would? If Bill and Charley, the two most reasonable out of all his siblings, wouldn't donate money to keep the family afloat then there was no chance that the twins or Ron would. And Ginny was far too young to even think about it.
So when Percy got the chance to be the Ministers Assitant, he jumped at it.
And it was nothing like he'd dreamed it would be. The Ministry was filled with people who degraded him, who looked down on him, who thought he was trash. It was filled with snide looks and nasty comments and wizards that claimed he was from a family of blood-traitors.
But it brought in good money so he kept his mouth shut and kept the job.
Of course, his mother wouldn't just take the money from him. She would never even think of it. So Percy had to slip it to her. A few galleons in the bottom of her sock drawer, a handful of sickles in the pot of floo powder, a knut stuck inbetween the couch cushions. She found it in spurts and never once thought about where it came from. After all, it was just misplaced cash. Molly went through her days thinking that Arthur had just been careless with the money again.
It wasn't even that bad, working there, until his youngest brother's Fourth Year. Until a rift began between wizards; those who believed Dumbledore and those who didn't. And the Ministry, in all their higher knowledge, firmly believed that old age had finally gotten to the headmaster.
Percy kept his mouth shut at work; he didn't think that Dumbledore, the one wizard he had always admired, was a nutter.
Percy kept his mouth shut at home; he didn't understand how Harry, just a boy the same age as his baby brother, could have survived a second Aveda Kedavra in that cemetery.
He would listen to arguements and complaints from both side and say nothing. Just go along with his day and ignore them all, to the point that the Minister was beyond furious at him and his family had disowned him. Who was he to have his own oppinion? To not be on either side was just unheard of!
But Percy really wasn't.
He just wanted to keep his job and keep supporting his family; even if they still didn't know it was him sneaking in and leaving the galleons in the cookie jar. They didn't know who was doing it but Percy, the son whose name they refused to so much as utter, certainly wasn't one of their options.
At least once a week, though, Percy made a trip to the Burrow. In and out, quite as he could be. The trips were always timed when he knew that no one would be in the house.
It was on one of these almost weekly trips that the unthinkable happened.
Percy had timed it so that everyone would be outside, watching Bill and Fleur say their vows, when he arrived in his old home. His movements were quick and almost motorized so that he didn't find himself staring at one of the many things he missed, like the clock on the wall that gave the most horrible news or the microwave that his father had brought home from work one day, and it only took a few minutes to get in and slide the leather pouch of galleons into the ceramic jar on the counter.
But it was a few minutes too long.
The red jar was still in his arms when he heard the first crack. The first scream. The first sounds of panic from outside.
Percy had his wand out in moments, not even taking the time to put down the jar and instead clutching it tighter to his chest, and flung himself from the kitchen. Through the living room. Into the back yard. In the middle of the chaos.
Because he wasn't on Harry's side.
He wasn't on the Ministry's side.
He was on his family's side and he would do everything in his power to keep them safe.
"Expelliarmus!" Percy shouted and the wand pointed at his sister's head went flying through the air.
Ginny didn't even look backwards before she took off towards her mother. Which was fine, really, because it meant she would be safer. It meant there was one less person he would have to look after.
There was a shout, in a voice that Percy knew by heart, and the middle child was throwing himself deeper into the madness. It took only moments for him to cast a hex at the death eater Fred was dueling.
His younger brother glanced in Percy's direction, made to turn back to the fight, and then realized who it was standing just feet away from him. Not a distant cousin or a guest or a new in-law. No, it was the brother he had thought he would never see again.
"Perc-"
And that was all the time it took for the death eater to turn his attention off of Fred and on to Percy. To cast a spell, one made of easily recognizable green light.
The Killing Curse hit Percy square in the chest. His body jerked once from the force of the impact before crumpling to the ground, unmoving. The cookie jar that he'd been holding hit the ground hard, shattering into pieces, and the small pouch that it had been holding rolled out into the grass.
And there were the makings of a smile on Percy's now forever still face.