Chapter Three: The Questions without Answers
Percy barely paid attention to the rest of the tour of Azkaban. Sure he felt incredibly important accompanying the Minister of Magic on this imperative duty, and he was damned pleased with himself for becoming Fudge's assistant. That had been one hell of an accomplishment, and his final goal as Minister of Magic was within his reach. However, his mind kept wandering back to the nearly pitch black cell. He was still trying to figure out what the hell had happened with that prisoner, 26531, the Death Eater. –
There was something very creepy about that one, and the way the Death Eater had known who he was, even though he'd never set foot in this disgusting prison before. He automatically read off the list to Fudge. The Minister still hadn't had any luck with the Black interrogations. Most of the prisoners hadn't known he was there, or were completely insane, claiming that they were in fact He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself. But Percy knew 26531 would have told him something if Fudge hadn't been so damned stubborn. But he's the Minister. He knows what he's doing. Percy consoled himself.
'Or does he?'
Percy immediately shut that thought out. It was ridiculous to think that the Minister wasn't completely aware of how to go about interrogating
He was barely able to suppress the sigh of relief that bubbled up inside him when they'd stepped out of Azkaban. The air inside had been damp and smothering, especially oppressive with the presence of the hundreds of dementors that patrolled its interior. Percy shuddered slightly at the thought of being a prisoner in there. No wonder most of them lost their minds. Except that one…that Death Eater…the one who's eyes had been so black in the flickering light of the torch that he felt like they were fathomless, twin black holes, pulling all light into them where it disappeared forever. 'I wonder…should I give Father the message? Maybe he'll have some clue and he probably could clear this whole thing up.' There, it was decided. He would tell his father tonight, as soon as he got home.
Arthur Weasley arrived long after dinner finished, muttering something about a sofa that had been chasing a hapless Muggle around her living room. Percy waited while his mother fixed Arthur a sandwich and had gone upstairs before he started a conversation with him.
"Father," he said, "as the Minister's new assistant, I was required to accompany him to the Prison of Azkaban." Here Arthur looked up at his son.
"I'm sorry, Percy, that must have been difficult to deal with. I went to visit Azkaban once, and I don't mind telling you that I would never want to break the law if it meant I would end up in there."
"No, it's not that that bothers me." Percy searched for a way to explain this to his father. "What I want to say is the Minister has been trying to interrogate some of the prisoners in there on the background of Sirius Black. Especially the one who has a cell adjacent to that of Black's. Number 26351, a convicted Death Eater, who refused to talk to anyone but me."
Arthur Weasley raised his eyebrows in surprise, a slice of ham hanging from the corner of his mouth. "Really?" He asked interestedly, "And what was this Death Eater's name?"
"Wouldn't say, but there's a message for you. I can't really tell if I got everything down, but I wrote what I could remember after…" Percy paused as he pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to his father, who read it intently, his half-eaten sandwich forgotten. After a minute, when he'd re- read it several times, Arthur met his son's eyes.
"And this was all there was?"
Percy nodded affirmatively. Arthur was silent for a minute, a distant look on his face. "I feel like I should remember this…Jakura sounds so familiar, as does Arrow…but I can't place where I've heard them before."
Suddenly, they could hear Mrs. Weasley's voice calling from the top of the stairs, something about Fred and George testing one of their practical joke products on Ron. Arthur sighed, before standing and handing Percy the parchment. "I don't know, Percy. If I discover anything I'll let you know about it right away, okay?" Percy smiled woodenly, thanking him.
For hours after everyone else had gone to bed, he remained downstairs, pacing the living room. Percy couldn't help but feel disappointed in the fact that his father had been no help whatsoever. He paused staring into the fire. "This doesn't make sense. How could that prisoner know my father and have a message for him and my father not recall anything about anything in it? Unless…" Percy paused in his ruminations, afraid to even speak the words, "Unless, he was Obliviated. But why? Who would do such a thing, and to what purpose?"
Wiping a wizard of his memory was a terrible thing to do. Sure, the charm was performed on Muggles every day, but that was for their own protection. Could an obliviation charm have been placed on his father for his protection? Why would his father need protection from anyone?
Percy sighed, rubbing his eyes. 'You really should stop this right now, Percy. It's not like this could have any real effect on anyone. It's all in the past, and right now you have to think about the future.' Percy sighed again. The future. That's what was important. He had his career to think about, and even though he knew he might never be able to push the day's events from his mind, he knew it wouldn't help to dwell on them. Resolved, he made his way upstairs to his bedroom, falling instantly asleep, without images of Death Eaters dancing in his head.
Percy barely paid attention to the rest of the tour of Azkaban. Sure he felt incredibly important accompanying the Minister of Magic on this imperative duty, and he was damned pleased with himself for becoming Fudge's assistant. That had been one hell of an accomplishment, and his final goal as Minister of Magic was within his reach. However, his mind kept wandering back to the nearly pitch black cell. He was still trying to figure out what the hell had happened with that prisoner, 26531, the Death Eater. –
There was something very creepy about that one, and the way the Death Eater had known who he was, even though he'd never set foot in this disgusting prison before. He automatically read off the list to Fudge. The Minister still hadn't had any luck with the Black interrogations. Most of the prisoners hadn't known he was there, or were completely insane, claiming that they were in fact He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself. But Percy knew 26531 would have told him something if Fudge hadn't been so damned stubborn. But he's the Minister. He knows what he's doing. Percy consoled himself.
'Or does he?'
Percy immediately shut that thought out. It was ridiculous to think that the Minister wasn't completely aware of how to go about interrogating
He was barely able to suppress the sigh of relief that bubbled up inside him when they'd stepped out of Azkaban. The air inside had been damp and smothering, especially oppressive with the presence of the hundreds of dementors that patrolled its interior. Percy shuddered slightly at the thought of being a prisoner in there. No wonder most of them lost their minds. Except that one…that Death Eater…the one who's eyes had been so black in the flickering light of the torch that he felt like they were fathomless, twin black holes, pulling all light into them where it disappeared forever. 'I wonder…should I give Father the message? Maybe he'll have some clue and he probably could clear this whole thing up.' There, it was decided. He would tell his father tonight, as soon as he got home.
Arthur Weasley arrived long after dinner finished, muttering something about a sofa that had been chasing a hapless Muggle around her living room. Percy waited while his mother fixed Arthur a sandwich and had gone upstairs before he started a conversation with him.
"Father," he said, "as the Minister's new assistant, I was required to accompany him to the Prison of Azkaban." Here Arthur looked up at his son.
"I'm sorry, Percy, that must have been difficult to deal with. I went to visit Azkaban once, and I don't mind telling you that I would never want to break the law if it meant I would end up in there."
"No, it's not that that bothers me." Percy searched for a way to explain this to his father. "What I want to say is the Minister has been trying to interrogate some of the prisoners in there on the background of Sirius Black. Especially the one who has a cell adjacent to that of Black's. Number 26351, a convicted Death Eater, who refused to talk to anyone but me."
Arthur Weasley raised his eyebrows in surprise, a slice of ham hanging from the corner of his mouth. "Really?" He asked interestedly, "And what was this Death Eater's name?"
"Wouldn't say, but there's a message for you. I can't really tell if I got everything down, but I wrote what I could remember after…" Percy paused as he pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to his father, who read it intently, his half-eaten sandwich forgotten. After a minute, when he'd re- read it several times, Arthur met his son's eyes.
"And this was all there was?"
Percy nodded affirmatively. Arthur was silent for a minute, a distant look on his face. "I feel like I should remember this…Jakura sounds so familiar, as does Arrow…but I can't place where I've heard them before."
Suddenly, they could hear Mrs. Weasley's voice calling from the top of the stairs, something about Fred and George testing one of their practical joke products on Ron. Arthur sighed, before standing and handing Percy the parchment. "I don't know, Percy. If I discover anything I'll let you know about it right away, okay?" Percy smiled woodenly, thanking him.
For hours after everyone else had gone to bed, he remained downstairs, pacing the living room. Percy couldn't help but feel disappointed in the fact that his father had been no help whatsoever. He paused staring into the fire. "This doesn't make sense. How could that prisoner know my father and have a message for him and my father not recall anything about anything in it? Unless…" Percy paused in his ruminations, afraid to even speak the words, "Unless, he was Obliviated. But why? Who would do such a thing, and to what purpose?"
Wiping a wizard of his memory was a terrible thing to do. Sure, the charm was performed on Muggles every day, but that was for their own protection. Could an obliviation charm have been placed on his father for his protection? Why would his father need protection from anyone?
Percy sighed, rubbing his eyes. 'You really should stop this right now, Percy. It's not like this could have any real effect on anyone. It's all in the past, and right now you have to think about the future.' Percy sighed again. The future. That's what was important. He had his career to think about, and even though he knew he might never be able to push the day's events from his mind, he knew it wouldn't help to dwell on them. Resolved, he made his way upstairs to his bedroom, falling instantly asleep, without images of Death Eaters dancing in his head.
