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Chapter 4: Pitiful Percy

"Here's the guest list for next week's party. Gary wants you to send out all the invites. He said something about being super careful – this is the minister's welcoming gala we're talking about after all."

There was a light plop, shortly followed by the sound of clicking heels on hardwood floor.

"Great, thanks."

Margot stared blankly and tiredly at the file before finally reading its cover.

Guest list for Minister Thicknesse's Gala

(September 20th, 1997)

Total number of invited: 638

Carter's Event Planning Svc.

I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. Okay, this isn't working, she thought, rubbing her eyes. She grabbed the grey folder that Audrey, her co-worker, had just dropped on her desk.

It had never been in Margot's plans to become an event planner. Like most witches, she had once dreamt of working as a Healer at Saint-Mungo's, wearing their famous lime green robes and saving strangers' lives – and as an intelligent young woman, she possessed all the potential to do so. However, she unexpectedly ran into the event planning company's owner at Puddlemere United's welcoming party for Oliver, and Gary Carter offered her a "once-in-a-lifetime" opportunity, assuring her that she wouldn't find better pay elsewhere. In the end, even though working in the company did not exactly match Margot's academic capabilities, she still enjoyed making people happy – and getting free tickets to the wizarding world's best concerts.

"By the sad, sad look on your face, I'm guessing your vacation didn't go too well."

Audrey worked at a desk adjacent to Margot's, so that they sat face to face. This made it strictly impossible for them to hide anything from each other– whether it was the food they were having for lunch or simply the look of fatigue on their face.

"At least I actually took a vacation," answered Margot as she put the folder down. "You never take any time off- and do you realize that our salary is still exactly the same?"

The young woman shrugged.

"I had nothing better to do. All my friends were on some tropical island, I'm desperately single and the only weddings that I've been invited to are the ones I've planned. Plus, summer is our busiest season, I can't let the company down," she explained rather seriously.

"I should set you up with Percy," snorted Margot. "Or perhaps you're not that desperate," she laughed as she saw the grimace on her colleague's face.

Audrey Price was a tall woman, who, on top of her height, had the tendency to intimidate men by walking in five-inch platforms. She usually wore pencil skirts to work, despite their office's flexible dress code, and her sandy blonde hair either fell on her chest or was tied into a neat and silky ponytail. She specialized in weddings and conventions, while Margot was mostly responsible for concerts and cocktail parties. The both of them had started working in the company at the same time, even though Audrey was a year older. The two women often worked as a pair and got along fine despite their different personalities.

"Speaking of you brother Percy...aren't you supposed to meet him up for lunch today?"

"Shit I totally forgot- sorry," she added sheepishly, noting Audrey's scornful look. She strongly disapproved of curse words. "And how do you even know that?"

"Oh, his owl dropped a letter on my desk this morning. I thought it was for me, so I opened it. Here," she said, handing a little envelope to Margot. Before opening it, she took notice of the multiple stamps that covered the packet, which read "Approved by the ministry" and "Legal content". Apparently, even the minister's closest employees were subject to a mail inspection – or was Percy now being watched as closely as his siblings?

Her brother's handwriting was the closest thing to perfect that Margot had ever known – aside from Oliver, that is. She loved how Percy took the time to engrave each and every curve of his letters. The "W" was her favorite.

My dearest Margot,

I hope you haven't forgotten our plans for lunch today.

I'll meet you in the Ministry Atrium at twelve o'clock.

All the best,

Percival Weasley

Jr. Assistant to the Minister of Magic

PS: Please try to avoid getting noticed, we wouldn't want to attract any more negative attention as it is.

Margot sighed. She had absolutely no desire to go to the Ministry, where she knew she wasn't welcome. Coming across Death Eaters and racist officials was not what she had looked for in her first day back at work. She looked across to Audrey, who had already plunged into her paperwork. Deciding to do the same, she opened the file on her desk and took out her quill and letter parchment. Over the years, Margot had found the perfect strategy to write a great amount of invitations without tiring: she would first write a sample letter, leaving out the names of the guests, then copy it using a multiplication charm, until all that she had left to do was write down the names of all the invitees.

This whole process took Margot a little over an hour – mostly because of the long list. Once that she was done, she put all of the letters in envelopes, which she then sealed with the company's logo.

"Well, I'm off to post these, so see you later."

Audrey did not reply but instead nodded slightly, her eyes remaining glued to her assignment. Out of all the people in the world, why in Merlin's beard do I chose workaholics as part of my entourage? Margot said to herself, grabbing her bag and throwing it over her shoulder.

Diagon Alley looked more deserted than ever, despite the pleasant autumn weather. Stores' windows were broken and pieces of glass still lay in the middle of the street. Some of the least attacked shops even had various posters promoting Muggle-born hunting.

The places that she used to spend hours in, Florean's Ice Cream Parlor, Gambol & James...all were closed. Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron and the Quality Quidditch Supplies were part of the few stores that had remained in business. Margot wondered if she should go check on Bill at the bank, but quickly decided that it was best not to bother him.

It was the most destroyed shop of the alley that attracted Margot's attention as she walked by. Number 93. Magically written graffiti covered its windows, some reading "Blood-traitors", others "Deserve to die". The girl's heart sank. A dismantled door revealed the ravaged inside of the place that had once been her brothers' joke shop. The Death Eaters had been looking for something. Luckily, aside from Pygmy Puffs and fake wands, there was nothing to be found.

Margot stepped into the tiny owlery located across Ollivander's old wand shop. Her ears instantly filled with chirping sounds and her nose tingled with the strong smell bird food. Hundreds of owls of all breeds and colors stood perched on wooden planks suspended to the unusually high ceiling. She was the only client, and had to ring a bell on the counter in order to be served.

"Good morning Mr. Ward," she greeted as the shopkeeper came out of his office.

"Why hello there, Miss Black. Come to send some letters, have we?"

Mr. Ward was a middle-aged wizard, well known for owning the cheapest wizard post office in all of London. He even gave special discounts to Carter's Event Planning, since Gary Carter had been one of his best clients for years.

"I have six hundred and thirty four letters, all for random celebrities and Ministry workers. How much will I owe you?"

"Fifty four Gallions and we'll call it a deal."

"Great."

"You can go hand the money to Casper, over there. It's not that I don't trust you, but my eyesight is quite terrible these days." He bent over and spoke in a lower voice: "You see, I'm trying to include my son in the family business, keep those roots running."

"I understand," Margot smiled. She left the bag of letters in Mr. Ward's hands and moved over to another counter, where stood a young man with longish brown hair. He looked up to the girl as she approached him, barely revealing the dark tired eyes hiding beneath his bangs. She recognized him from being a year above her in Hogwarts, though they had never spoken once.

"Hi," said the girl as she handed the Gallions to Ward's son.

He stared at her in amusement and let out a scoff. "So you're still alive then?"

"Pardon me?"

"Your family's house was attacked last month, wasn't it? I just thought – you know – you haven't really been on the ministry's good side lately, and they could have killed you," he whispered while taking the money, making sure that his father was busy attaching the letters to owls.

"Look, Casper, I don't want to sound impolite, but unless actually I know you, that's none of your business."

"You think you're so smart, don't you? Member of the Order, if I'm correct. Well let me tell you something, Miss Black, we too are working against this You-Know-Who madness, and we're far more advanced than you are."

"We?"

"The Rebellion."

"The Rebellion? So original." she laughed. "Yea, I've heard of you guys. A group of amateurs, trying to sabotage the ministry?"

He pursed his lips. "We're more effective than you think. Just last week, I rescued twelve Muggleborns from a group of Snatchers."

"Snatchers?"

"Not so smart now, are we? Still so much to learn..." he taunted, victorious.

Margot tried to keep a strong face and shot an angry look at the young man. She turned around and made her way to the door.

"Oh, and, by the way," she added with a devilish smile before leaving the shop, "I'm definitely alive."

Minutes later, Margot had already apparated inside a bright red telephone booth. Making sure that no Muggles were in sight, she quickly dialed the numbers 6-2-4-4-2.

"Please state your name and reason of visit," a voice called out from nowhere.

"Margot Black, visiting brother Percy Weasley," she announced blandly, already starting to get annoyed by the government's customs.

A small silver badge popped out of the coin slot. The young woman attached it to her cropped blazer while the telephone booth commenced its descent into the Ministry.

Her father had told her of the drastic transformations in ministry policies, but nothing could have prepared Margot for what she saw when the elevator doors opened. There were lines of people, men and women of all ages, waiting for their turn in front of a ministry official. The workers seemed to be checking the civilians' papers and directing them to different directions.

Margot had not been to the Ministry in a year, but had strolled in the Atrium enough times to know that the "Magic is Might" statue was recent. As she got closer, she bit her lip: the statue represented a wizard and a witch sitting on an assemblage of Muggles. Disgusted by the sight of the horrific sculpture, the girl quickly turned away.

The Muggleborns were being watched closely by a handful of dirty-looking men, all imposing. They circled around their captives like vultures.

So these are the Snatchers, thought Margot. She vaguely searched the oversized hall for Percy, but he was nowhere to be seen. And even if he were in the Atrium, it would have been impossible to spot him because of the chaotic crowd. The young woman decided to make her way to the front desk.

had also mentioned Eric Munch, the man who worked at the ministry's front desk. According to her father, he was not the most helpful person in the world. Margot remembered this as she approached his booth. He was visibly worn out and could use a good shave.

"Hi, er, I'm here to see Percy Weasley. He said that he would wait for me here but-"

"He owled me asking you to meet him downstairs instead. 'Parently he's late 'cause of a meeting. May I check your wand, please, miss?"

Margot retrieved her wand from her front pocket and handed it to Eric through the hole of his window.

"Is it like this all the time, now?" she asked while he examined it.

Eric did not answer immediately for he had not understood, at first, what the girl was referring to.

"Yea. You should've seen 'em yesterday. I could swear there were hundreds of Muggleborns in this very hall," he replied in a hushed voice. "But I don't complain. No one complains. Who wants their family sent to Azkaban?"

Munch looked over Margot's chestnut wand for a few more seconds, making the young woman wonder how exactly he was supposed to detect dark magic by simply staring at the wooden stick. The man finally gave it back to her with a tired smile.

"You're all set. Weasley's on level one."

"Have a nice day."

"I'll try."

Margot headed to the magical lifts. She pressed the down button, asking herself why there was an up button if there were no higher floors. And then she remembered- there was the Department of Mysteries. Sirius' death place stood only one floor above her. No, Sirius Black was not her father; he was not 'dad'. They shared the same last name, but aside from that, he only portrayed the man who abandoned his wife and daughter. One to die, the other to become an orphan.

The door of the lifts opened and Margot was detached of her thoughts. Three wizards came out of the tiny mobile room, while others stayed to descend into lower levels. The button for Level One had already been pressed, and the young woman simply stood amongst the other employees, feeling slightly out of place. One man in particular, a tall wizard with an old-fashioned mustache, stared directly down at her. She had seen him before – and he was apparently thinking the same thing.

One or two wizards would leave the lift at every floor. The mustache-man, however, did not. He remained standing at the same spot until a voice finally called 'Level One' and the doors opened. Margot waited for him to leave before her, since he was closer to the exit, but he moved to the side instead.

"After you," he gestured, making the young woman even more uncomfortable. She nodded, trying harder than ever to recall whom this mystery person could be.

"Ah, ! I was waiting for you. There are some matters that I wish for us to discuss in my office, if you will." The girl froze, realizing that the new minister was staring straight at her. "Weasley, you are dismissed. I see that you have company," Thickenesse added in a chilling voice.

She had been so taken aback that her brother's presence next to the public figure went unnoticed.

Margot could not seem to think clearly, her vision obstructed by the mustered thoughts in her brain. So this was the new minister, Voldemort's puppet? And Macnair, he could roam about freely in the government offices. Since when had the Death Eater escaped from Azkaban? How was it possible, after a year of prison, to be in such good health?

Luckily, the young woman was able to hug Percy as soon as he was within her reach, giving her something else to do than to stare at Thicknesse.

She released her brother and smiled gleefully at the sight of his freckle-covered face. Percy clenched his jaw gravely, his eyes looking distant through their horn-rimmed glasses.

"What's wrong, Perce? Aren't you happy to see me? It's been what, six months since our last date?"

Margot often called their get-togethers 'dates', which really implied that Percy was single and spent more time with his sister than with other women. The girl hoped that this would push him to search for a girlfriend.

"Three months, actually."

Boy, had she missed him.

"Whatever. Shall we get going, then? It's not that I don't absolutely love this place, but I have a busy afternoon."

They boarded the lift together. This time, Margot felt safer, not because Percy could have defended her in the event of danger, but mostly because he was the minister's head assistant, which gave him a fair amount of respect and authority.

"Where would you like to eat?" The exited the lift together. "I saw a good-looking Vietnamese on my way to Diagon Alley the other day, perhaps we could try that," Margot suggested.

"I'd rather go to the Leaky Cauldron, if you don't mind," said Percy, looking nervously around them as though he was expecting a Hungarian Horntail to cross their path.

"Well, I do mind," objected his sister as she brushed past the crowd toward one of the grand fireplaces. "In a perfect world, women should be the ones to-"

"In a perfect world, Margot, we wouldn't be avoiding these blood-thirsty bastards right now."

At least he's on our side, thought the girl with a sigh. In other circumstances, she would probably have made a remark about Percy's 'prefect world'. She mentally cursed the Death Eaters for ruining a perfect joke.

They landed inside Leaky Cauldron a few seconds later. The inn, which Margot had passed by earlier that day, was perhaps the most intact location of all Diagon Alley. Unsurprisingly, it had lost many of its clients since Voldemort's return, and it would have been exceptional for the tavern to receive more than five patrons at once.

Tom, the old barman, gave the pair a toothless smile as they walked in, causing two witches to turn and stare at them. Aside from Percy and Margot, they were the only ones in the pub. The lighting seemed even dimmer than usual and many tables had not been cleaned in weeks.

Percy pulled out a bar stool for his sister. She sat on it and ordered two teas from Tom. The bartender nodded and left to prepare their beverages. Margot tiredly dropped an elbow on the counter and rested her head on her hand before looking up to her brother expectedly. He cleared his throat.

"Look, I'm sorry we couldn't go to that place you were talking about. I can't be seen in Muggle-frequented areas – Thicknesse might not take it too well," Percy apologized.

"I guess I understand."

Tom arrived with two cups of tea on a tray. The young man and woman thanked him as he placed the drinks on the counter, warning them that it was hot. "Otherwise, how's work? They seem to have you on a tight leash."

"Same as usual – under a different management of course. I still organize the minister's day, take notes at his meetings…that routine is pretty much unchanged And everyone at the ministry thinks I hate the rest of the family, so I'm not written down as blood-traitor. I just hope they don't make me prove that." He took a sip of his tea but burned himself, and immediately placed the cup back on the table. "What happened when they attacked the other day?"

"Well, they round us up in the kitchen, and decided to interrogate us. There was an odd mix…Death Eaters and ministry guys. They asked us pretty basic questions, but I could tell that they only wanted to know where Harry was. Oh, and I got to meet Nott's son – charming young man." She let out a derisive laugh.

"Did you know that they have a file for everyone now? It gives a person's blood status, their location, affiliations…

Margot nodded. Percy seemed to hesitate about what to say next.

"Is the family alright?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes. They're- a bit shaken up, but who wouldn't be. I've never seen Bill get so angry about something."

"They hate me, right? They think I'm the biggest git in the whole universe. Especially Fred and George. And dad won't even look at me in the eye anymore. It's crazy, I see him all the time at work," the ginger lamented.

"Perce, I don't think that your own relatives can actually hate you. They just don't understand. It's as awful for them as it is for you, trust me."

"I just wish they knew. I wish they knew that deep down, I'm not a bad person, that I despise the new regime, that I want to save the Muggleborns," he whispered, making sure that no one was around. "And I can't join the Order, it's too late for that."

"Would you really fight against the ministry, become a double-agent? It's a dangerous job, Percy," she said to him seriously.

"Anything to save these people."

His sister looked at him thoughtfully, but the miserable expression on Percy's face forced her to give in. She knew that he didn't have an easy life. Despite his fast ascension and high position in the political world, Percy barely made any money. His flat was small and sad-looking, and he never had any time to himself. Helping him out was the least that Margot could do.

"Alright. I might know someone who can help. His name is Casper Ward – and you better be writing this down, I'm not repeating it twice." She waited for her brother to take out a piece of paper and a quill out of his briefcase. "Go to the owl post down the Alley and ask for Casper. He's the owner's son, and he's part of a secret group called The Resistance. He seems to know quite a bit about what's going on, so just tell him that you work for the ministry and that you can help. If he gets suspicious, just say that I sent you."

Percy took note of this information vigilantly, sending frequent looks around the pub. Afterwards, he and Margot talked about their school friends for a while. One friend in particular, Eliza Hemmingway, had left England with her Muggle family just in time to escape the Snatchers. According to Percy, the hijackers had arrived at Eliza's house the minute she pronounced Voldemort's name. He warned his sister about this new taboo: anyone who dared defy the Dark Lord's rule would be found and sanctioned.

When they judged that it was time to return to their respective occupations, Margot hugged her brother and they left separately. A pleasant, light drizzle had begun to fall outside. Margot spent the rest of the afternoon choosing the color scheme and menu for the upcoming gala. Eventually, she showed them to her boss, who barely checked over her work. Mr. Carter approved of the choices and sent Margot out of his office, insisting that he could not be late to his meeting with Dolores Umbridge, where they were to discuss the unrolling of the gala.

"Eric said he saw you at the Ministry today," stated her father at the kitchen table that night.

It was a quiet dinner: the twins had gone to eat with Angelina Johnston and Lee Jordan, which left Margot alone with her parents and Remus. had prepared an apple crumble for desert, which Margot ate while she read the day's newspaper.

Ginny had left to Hogwarts that morning, and Mrs. Weasley seemed slightly uneasy.

It was as though it was her first time sending off a child to school – when she had actually been through the process for over a decade.

"Hm?"

"I said: Eric saw you at the Ministry today," Mr. Weasley persisted, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Oh, yes," the daughter confirmed, her mind busy reading the Daily Prophet. "Has anyone read this nonsense? How in Merlin's beard are Muggleborns supposedly stealing magic from wizards?"

No one replied. The only sound that could be heard was the one of self-cleaning dishes.

"Margot, I don't mean to be nosy, but what exactly were you doing at the Ministry?" asked Remus sternly.

"I was…confirming the final details for the Gala in two weeks. You know how perfectionist those politicians are," she immediately lied with a fake laugh.

"Right," nodded the werewolf, completely buying her tale.

The last thing that Margot wanted was for anyone to know that she frequented Percy. The truth would definitely not have been taken well.

The little group's quiet dinner was suddenly interrupted by a tapping sound on the kitchen window. Instantly, Arthur and Lupin rose to their feet. Margot raised her eyes, she too trying to figure out where the noise had come from.

"It's alright! It's just an owl!" exclaimed . She ran to the window, but her husband pushed past her and opened it himself. Arthur let the owl inside. It was pale grey and its yellow eyes circled the room calmly.

While Mr. Weasley busied himself unwrapping the unexpected delivery from the bird, Margot searched the pantry for owl treats.

"Margot?"

"Yes?" She fed the pretty owl and faced her father, who was now opening the mail.

"There are two letters – and they both come from your company."

Margot frowned, but instantly relaxed as she recognized Audrey's round handwriting.

Hey Margot,

Sorry if I'm bothering you, but there's something that I forgot to tell you at work today: Carter wants you to attend the ministry event. He says it's important for our reputation to have the guests be welcomed 'properly'. I'll have to be there too, so don't worry. Do you have anything to wear? I was hoping that we could go to Madame Malkin's sometime in the next two weeks to get some dresses fitted.

See you tomorrow,

Audrey

PS: You can bring someone along if you wish.

Margot sighed. Just when she had sworn to never place a foot into the corrupt world of wizard politics again, she was once more forced to be a part of it.

"Are you invited too?" she asked her father, glancing over his shoulder.

"Yes," he replied. "And perhaps it would be best for me to go. I've done enough to upset the ministry…ignoring the new regime's first event would be most unwise of me."

Mrs. Weasley rubbed his back affectionately and he smiled back at her.

Their adoptive daughter yawned and started walking toward the Burrow's staircase, waving goodnight at Lupin on her way. Her father's anxious voice soon made her turn around.

"You've seen the guest list, Margot. Are there-"

"Death Eaters? Loads of them. But not the worst though – they'll only be there for intimidation. I guess You-Know-Who's saved the tough ones for last," she answered tiredly. "Goodnight."