The Flip Side of the Coin
I stepped into through the large, grand-looking door uneasily. Was I going to be fired? But I hadn't done anything even slightly against the Ministry's rules and regulations. I would never do that. What was this? Why was I being called in to meet the Minister? Was it about the whole Crouch-going-mad mess? That wasn't my fault. It was all just a little too uncertain for me. I've never liked suspense. And that's what this was. Suspense. The worst brand of suspense there is.
"Sir?" I asked softly, trying to sound bold, but professional. "You…wanted to see me?"
"Weasley, right?" said a voice. I couldn't see the Minister's face; his tall leather chair was swiveled to face the wall behind him instead of me. If he hadn't been my superior, I would have thought it rude, but it's the Minister, so I suppose it's okay.
"Yes, sir, my name is Percy Weasley, sir," I said, trying to control my trembling voice.
"Well, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Sits informed me of your wonderful enthusiasm for your work, and I think maybe a promotion may be in order," he said, slowly turning his chair.
"Sir?"
"Would you be interested, Mr. Weasley? Perhaps a job as…my Junior Assistant?" I felt my breath catch in my throat. This was my dream! To serve the Ministry! And in such a high position! And me only a year out of Hogwarts, too. I couldn't speak for a moment, and the Minister seemed to take that the wrong way.
"Of course, that would mean a pay raise, too. We can discuss the numbers now, if you like," he offered. He was now facing me, pen and papers in hand.
"Sure, sir," I breathed.
"How does eight hundred a year sound?" he suggested. My heart sank.
"Sickles?" I asked, trying to mask my disappointment. That was only a few more than I made now.
"Sickles…" he repeated. Then he flew into a passionate fit. "Sickles? No, no, no, no, no, boy, use your head! Gallions! Eight hundred gallions!"
"Eight hundred gallions?" I gasped.
"How does that sound, Weasley?" I was speechless. That was more money than I could imagine! "Tell you what," he said, misinterpreting my silence once again. "You take this home with you," he said, passing me some papers, "and you can just…let me know on Monday, okay?"
"Sir…" I choked out.
"Do you need more time, Weasley?"
"No, no, I can…I can let you know by…by Monday. That's fine."
"Good, good! And, uh, take the rest of the day off, eh?" he offered.
"Thank you sir," I said. He patted me on the back. Next thing I knew, I was standing outside the Ministry on my way home, with no memory of actually leaving the place. That's about when it finally sunk in, I think. Fudge…Fudge himself…he just…offered me a jobI thought. And so much money! Then I was whooping out loud as I sprinted down the streets, dancing and spinning happily. I'm glad I didn't see anyone I recognized in those first ten minutes after leaving the Ministry, because they would have thought I was under the Imperious charm. I'm not the sort of person who is loud about their triumphs and pains. But now I felt like a six-year-old boy again, on Christmas day, when I got a new bike. It was that sort of feeling, and I was ecstatic! I ran to the Burrow to tell my family, imagining the looks on their faces. Dad would be so proud of me! And he knew from experience how hard it is to make it in the Ministry, where few people ever retire and new recruits are stuck doing the boring dirty work. Not that I minded those jobs. It was an honor to serve in the Ministry of Magic, no matter what I was doing. And maybe this would earn me a little respect from Fred and George and Ron and Ginny. They'd always looked up to Bill and Charlie. I'd always been the snitchy one to them. They had never felt about me the way they—and I—had felt about our older brothers, which I always regretted. Maybe now they'd finally see me as a brother they could respect and love. This made me even happier.
And then I thought of the soon-to-be family and her reaction! Penelope would be so proud and happy. She had gone into work as a writer and artist. This meant that neither of us had much money. We couldn't afford marriage. And I loved her so much…this meant we could finally get married, properly, mind you, with a ceremony and a honeymoon, and we could buy a house! A nice brick house. Sturdy, with red shutters. I almost danced the rest of the way home, bursting with emotion.
"WHAT!" Dad shouted.
"I've been promoted to Junior Assistant to the Minister," I repeated, smiling.
"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Percy, you CAN'T be thinking of taking this job!" he cried out.
"Eight hundred galleons, Dad! Of course I'm considering it!" I shouted back, my happiness ebbing away.
"You know why they gave you that job, don't you, Perce?" he asked me, a trace of pure venom in his voice.
"Because I have wonderful enthusiasm?" I suggested, quoting the Minister.
"NO! How could you fall for something like this, Percy? You were always so clever, too! Now you're acting like an idiot! They've hired you to spy on our family! You know how Fudge's been lately. Waltzing around, spying on everyone making sure they haven't had any contact with Dumbledore…" I was getting heated up now. Dad was suggesting I didn't deserve my new post offer, or the money! And on top of that, he called me an idiot, and insulted the Minister!
"WELL MAYBE THE MINISTER OF MAGIC KNOWS MORE THAN YOU, DAD! EVER THOUGHT OF THAT? MAYBE THERE'S A REASON HE'S HIGHER UP THAN YOU AND MAYBE THERE'S A REASON YOU'VE GOT SUCH A LOUSY REPUTATION AT THE MINISTRY!" I screamed. I had totally lost it. I was going to fight and scream and yell until the end, no matter what. I had been fighting my father's bad reputation since the day I started work at the Ministry, and that wasn't fair! I had been branded with my father's sins from birth, in the form of money and livelihood. Never having the tools it takes to get to the top. But I'd stuck with it—made prefect, then Head Boy, then a job at the Ministry, and now I was working my way up, and Dad couldn't just be happy for me for ONCE! I narrowed my eyes and readied myself for more. I could take it.
"FUDGE IS AN IDIOT!"
"HE'S NOT! HE'S BRILLIANT!" I shot back.
"HE'S RELIED ON DUMBLEDORE SINCE HE GOT THE JOB! HE CAN'T MANAGE ON HIS OWN AND HE KNOWS IT!" Dad yelled.
"WELL NOW DUMBELDORE'S TURNED OUT TO BE A FOOL, HASN'T HE! SO FUDGE IS RIGHT TO CUT HIM LOOSE!" I said. "AT LEAST HE'S NOT DENYING THE TRUTH!" Dad screamed. "WHAT TRUTH? YOU-KNOW-WHO BEING BACK? HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT'S THE TRUTH?" I asked. The anger washed off Dad's face, then, and it was replaced by an expression of shock. "How do I know it's the truth?" he repeated quietly. "How do I know?" "That's right," I said, sneering, "The only 'proof' is Harry's word." "You don't trust Harry? You've known him for four years, and you don't trust him." "So his word alone is really good enough for you? Dad, get real! Don't be a fool. Harry's a nice enough boy, but he's desperate for attention! So he makes up a story that would devastate millions of people into worshipping him," I said. Dad just shook his head. "You believe all those stories in the paper, son?" he asked. I nodded.
"But you know what, Dad?" I was getting nasty now. This was going to kill him. I didn't want to say it, but…but… "And he's better than you! At least he has the ambition to seek that attention! The reason we're dirt poor is you! You never had enough ambition to work your way up! Well, now, I'm going to learn from your pathetic mistake! I'm smarter than you now, Dad!" I shouted.
"What makes you think that?" Dad sneered. This was the angriest I'd ever seen him. His eyes were flashing. The little boy in me wanted to hug him and say, "I'm sorry, Daddy," and stop all this meanness, but it was a very small part of me. I was in it too far to stop now. So I pressed on with more hurting words.
"You're an idiot to run around with Dumbledore! He's headed for big trouble and everyone knows it! You should get away from him while you can, Dad! But no. You're too loyal," I sneered. "It'll be your ruination, mark my words!"
"You should have been in Slytherin!" Ginny screamed. I hadn't noticed her in the room, but there she was, her eyes angry and flashing. They shot arrows into my heart. I'd always had a soft spot for Ginny.
"Gin…" I started. But she shut me up with a glare and ran off.
"You're a traitor to your house and your family," Dad said. His voice was quivering with intensity and rage, but he was done shouting now.
"Yeah?" I said, more angry than ever because of Ginny's reaction. "Well, you and Mom are traitors to the Ministry! Well let me tell you something! I know where my loyalties lie. And if you're going to betray the entire magical world, than I'm going to make sure the whole world knows I don't belong to this family!" I stomped up to my room and threw some things into a bag. I took only the things that had no memories attached. It was too late to back out of this now. I had to leave. I'd said I would, and there was no way out of it.
"Perce?" said a small voice at the door. I looked up. It was Ginny.
"Hey Ginny."
"Why are you going?" she asked.
"Because I want to go somewhere with my life. And I don't want to be a traitor to the whole magic world. Like Mum and Dad." She shook her head.
"You've got it wrong." For some reason, probably because some part of me knew she was right, I got really angry all over again.
"What do you know? You're just a fourteen-year-old girl with an idealist's dream. Just like Mum and Dad. Go away, Ginny. You're not my sister anymore." Her lip trembled and her eyes watered, but she held it back long enough to shout at me.
"Good riddance, then. Percy, you're such a git!" And then she was gone. Run off to her room, most likely, where no one would see her cry.
"Goodbye, Mr. Weasley!" I shot at Dad on the way out. Goodbye, Dad, I thought as I looked back at the house. Dad saw me looking through the window and pulled the curtain. I heard the door lock. There's really nothing else to do now, I thought, I just have to go. I headed to Penelope's home. And this time, I didn't look back.