A/N: Heads up in this chapter! Made some pretty obvious changes, some
having to do with the time line of the story at the present, and others
having to do with some characters. Those of you who've read this before
must have noticed how un-Percy-like Percy was. Not caring about cauldron
bottom thickness reports and leaving work without a by-your leave, tsk tsk,
for shame, Perce. ^_~
Chapter Six: Percy's Personal Quest
Percy leaned forward, staring at the report he was writing for the Ministry intently. So far only two lines were scrawled across the parchment, and he could barely recall writing them. Normally the reports he wrote on cauldron bottom thickness and quill feather width interested him to no end, but today he found his attention wandering.
He rested his elbows on the table, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, heaving a huge sigh. 'Come on, Percy,' he thought, 'Focus.' But he just couldn't. Big events were happening in the wizarding world at the moment, and frankly, he could care less about illegal imports. It was impossible to think about something so trivial with You-Know-Who back and all the prisoners of Azkaban released. The dementors had simply disappeared, though Percy had a nasty suspicion, shared by many others, including Albus Dumbledore and his father, that the Dark Lord had recruited them to his ranks. Fudge was still in denial about the entire issue, claiming the dementors were the ones to blame.
"They left their posts, Dumbledore! Yes, they just got bored and left. That's all there is to it! Nothing more, nothing less." Fudge had yelled during a brief meeting with the Hogwarts Headmaster. Despite the fact that Dumbledore had declared a Parting of Ways nearly a year ago, he had returned for one final meeting to see if Fudge hadn't suddenly experienced a change of heart. However, nothing had changed. Fudge continued to exist in his continuous state of denial.
Dumbledore stroked his long white beard thoughtfully. "My dear Fudge, I do believe there is much more to this than you or I may think. The wizards on duty at Azkaban were all killed by the Avada Kedavra curse. When the dementors disappeared, the prisoners were set free, at least those who hadn't lost their minds. Those who had gone insane, and hadn't been delivered a Dementor's Kiss, were murdered in their cells. I do not care to describe the manner in which we found those unlucky souls. Now, Fudge, would you care to try and explain that?"
"I…it's—it's preposterous!" Fudge spluttered, "You cannot…Dumbledore, surely you don't mean to say…" he had suddenly drawn himself to his full height, an "impressive" 5'4", his round face turning a bright shade of purple, "We are looking into the situation. Those prisoners who escaped will be recaptured and returned to Azkaban. We will find the dementors and negotiate something with them. This has all probably been the work of a few rambunctious Death Eaters who cannot let go of the idea that they are finished and You-Know-Who is well and truly dead. That is all it is. Now, if you'll excuse me, Dumbledore, I have a meeting to attend to shortly. I trust you can find your way out."
Honestly, Percy had felt shocked and a little disappointed by his superior's treatment of Dumbledore. After all, the older wizard was one of the most powerful in the entire wizarding world, and it had long been rumored that Dumbledore himself had turned down the position of Minister of Magic in favor of being Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
When the Headmaster had been making his way out of the Ministry, Percy had run up to him, his glasses slightly askew. "Professor, wait."
The older man had turned, his tired face breaking into a smile. "Ah, Mr. Weasley. How are you? Enjoying your work here?"
"Yes, very much." Percy had hesitated, wanting to ask him something, but not sure how to go about it. "This may seem a bit strange, but was the prisoner in the cell next to Sirius Black's old cell…well…you said that those who were insane were murdered…did you find that one dead as well?"
Dumbledore's brow furrowed slightly. "We found no one in that cell. Like the other cells some incredible force had torn off the lock. There was no body, though there were some signs of a struggle. We don't know where those prisoners who were released have gone. We think that most, especially former Death Eaters, have returned to Voldemort," Dumbledore smiled slightly at Percy's obvious flinch with the mention of the Dark Lord's name, "however, we shall find out more information as time passes. Until then, all we can do is wait and prepare ourselves for the worst."
"Are you sure, Professor? Is there nothing at all we can do?" Percy had asked, allowing a slight note of worry tell in his voice.
"We have been taking steps to helping our side since the first moment we heard Voldemort was back, back at the Triwizard Tournament. I'm sure you must remember that night."
Percy had shuddered slightly, remembering the panic of that night, how he and Bill had struggled desperately to calm the terrified crowd and their own mother, Molly, who had almost gone to pieces when Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory had disappeared and then reappeared what seemed eons later, Harry bleeding from many wounds, and Cedric dead. He remembered how Fudge had blustered the entire way back to the Ministry, refusing to allow the idea that the Dark Lord may have actually returned to cross his mind.
"What can I do to help, Professor?" Percy asked after a moment of
silence. Dumbledore smiled. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Weasley. Just continue with the excellent work you've been accomplishing here. The Ministry is lucky to have such a skilled, hard-working employee."
That had been two days ago. Now, as he sat writing reports for the Ministry all he could think about was what was happening. The jailbreak greatly worried him. When he thought about some of those men and women in the prison and what they had done to land them there, he felt a chill of fear run through his body. He had vague memories of what it had been like when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his power; how his father and mother had been constantly worried, not allowing their sons out of their sight for longer than a few hours. They had been afraid of everything back then, and it had always been Percy's secret fear that life would return to that state of constant vigilance
Percy looked at the report again, his face twisted in disgust. There was no way in hell he was going to get it done right now. He stood hastily and left his small, cramped office. 'Where can I go to get away from things?' He barely noticed where his feet were leading him as he walked through the Ministry, his mind returning once again to prisoner 26531. It still bothered him that he didn't know any more about the message. Yes, he had convinced himself that he would stop thinking about it and concern himself with the future. However, since the recent events he couldn't help but wonder about the Death Eater who'd known who his father was. If only he could find out more information, at least to fill in some of the blanks.
With a shock, he saw he was in the Ministry of Magic's library. Percy should have guessed that this would be the place he would automatically go to, considering it was his usual haven. He just enjoyed the silence of the old books and the calmness the air seemed to be filled with. Here there could be no confusions, no worries, all the answers were in the writings of those who came before him.
He walked down the aisles of bookcases, running his hand lightly over the spines of the ancient volumes. He stopped suddenly. He was in the law section, staring at a row of books, all labeled 'Chronicles of Wizard Court Hearings.' "Of course!" Percy exclaimed aloud, giving himself a mental slap. "I can't believe I didn't think of this before!" He examined each book carefully before pulling down 'Chronicles of Wizard Court Hearings, 1970-1980, 1980-1990.' He remembered that the prisoner had mentioned being silent for over fifteen years during the interview with Fudge, which meant the Death Eater's trial and incarceration must taken place around 1980. There had to be some record of the arrest and hearing in here somewhere, and perhaps the crime (he hoped there was something more helpful than the fact that the convict had been a Death Eater).
Percy carried the book with him out of the library, after having checked with the Ministry's librarian to see if he could take it with him. At first Percy contemplated returning to his office to review the book. He didn't exactly look forward to the confined space, even though he finally had an office to call his own. He struggled with the decision of whether he should go home or stay at the Ministry. It was far too early for him to leave work; he hadn't even been on lunch break yet.
Percy's answer came in the shape of Nicole Wimbles, a work colleague, hurrying down the hall towards him. It wasn't that he had anything against the girl, she was quite nice once you got her to stop complaining about her insensitive boyfriend. Rather than find out if he had dumped her for the tenth time this week, Percy ducked out the main doors of the Ministry and Apparated to his house.
Without a word to anyone as to why he was home so early, Percy ran to his bedroom and locked himself in. He sat down at the desk, opening the book, and started the long process of finding this 'Arrow' by going through every single trial case for every year.
He'd made it to 1976 before there was a knock on his door. Irritated, he stood up, nearly knocking his chair over, and succeeding in bashing his leg against a sharp corner of his bed. Swearing was not usually his style, but by the time he got to the door, Percy was making it his style, and coming up with several inventive, colorful phrases to describe the bed. He unlocked the door and peered out, rubbing his leg gingerly, his face flushed and upset. "What is it?" He snapped, before he saw who was standing in the hallway. "Bill? What are you doing back?" His ponytail- sporting brother flashed him a smile.
"Hey there, Perce, it's nice to see you too. Actually, I'm just home for a visit, and then I'm off again. Mind if I come in?" Percy hesitated the briefest of moments before opening the door the rest of the way.
"No. Come on in."
Percy gestured for Bill to sit, but he remained standing. Percy shrugged and sat on the chair instead, shielding the book on the desk with his body. Bill crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, Percy, I suppose I'll just tell you why I'm here. Mum saw you run in and straight upstairs in the middle of the afternoon without a word to her. Now, she's just wondering if everything's okay, you know what I mean?"
"Yes, everything's just fine. Why is it so strange that I came home? It is where I live, after all." Percy said, raising his eyebrows innocently.
"Godamn, Perce. There's something up, I know it. You've never missed a day of work in your life, not ever. Hell, even in school you would go to class half-dead if you had to. Remember that day you had to be carried to the infirmary because you passed out in McGonagall's Transfiguration class? Mum went into hysterics when she got that owl. The only way you would ever miss work is if Hell's frozen over and Beelzebub's joined the Ice Capades." Bill gestured wildly, losing his cool. Percy gave a short, humorless laugh.
"Then you better get a pair of ice skates, Bill. I have missed work, so what? It's no big deal." Bill slumped onto the bed, staring at his younger brother.
"Who are you, and what have you done with Percy?" Percy shrugged. They sat
in silence, looking at each other for a moment.
"Have you been fired?" Bill asked suddenly. Percy shook his head.
"Nope. Just took the day off to get some…extra work done."
"You took the day off to do more work? Why the hell didn't you just work
over time? It would've saved Mum the heart attack, that's for sure. We were all expecting the worse."
"It's…it doesn't have to do with the Ministry…" Percy hesitated, wondering how much he should tell his older brother, "At least, I don't think it does yet. Let's just say it is something of a personal mission of mine…that's all."
Bill raised his eyebrows. "You have a life outside the Ministry, Percy? Well, that's a bit shocking." They were silent for moment, and Percy felt the familiar anger rising inside him at the thought that his family didn't think he had any life other than work. 'But it's true, Percy. Before this thing, all you did care about was reports on cauldron bottom thickness.' A small voice whispered in the back of his mind.
"Do you need any help with whatever it is you're doing?" Bill asked. Percy shook his head.
"No, but if anything comes from it, I'll be sure to let everyone know, okay?"
His older brother leaned forward. "What is it, Percy? Can you give me a hint?"
Percy shook his head again, standing quickly. "No, Bill, I really can't. Just let it
go for now, okay? Like I said, I'll tell you about it if something happens. Let Mother know that I haven't been fired and that everything's okay, will you?"
"Sure, Perce, whatever you want." Bill shrugged. Percy let out a small sigh of relief.
"Now, um, do you think I could have some privacy to work on this?"
"Oh, yeah, of course. See you at dinner, Percy." Bill stood to leave, but before he walked out the door, he turned to face his younger brother. "Good
luck, Percy." Percy smiled slightly.
"Thanks, Bill."
Three hours later, Percy had finally gotten to 1978. The number of trials per year increased greatly since 1975, and most of the defendants were charged for being Death Eaters, for torturing and murdering Muggles and wizards alike. He scanned the page, glimpsing at each trial for key words, Death Eater, Arrow, Jakura, and even his own father's name. And he found it. It was a small passage, barely even noticeable at the bottom of the page. Percy read it closely, his eyes widening with each word. When he finished, he sat a moment staring at some spot on the wall in front of him. The small voice was back again, whispering. 'I don't believe it.'
Chapter Six: Percy's Personal Quest
Percy leaned forward, staring at the report he was writing for the Ministry intently. So far only two lines were scrawled across the parchment, and he could barely recall writing them. Normally the reports he wrote on cauldron bottom thickness and quill feather width interested him to no end, but today he found his attention wandering.
He rested his elbows on the table, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, heaving a huge sigh. 'Come on, Percy,' he thought, 'Focus.' But he just couldn't. Big events were happening in the wizarding world at the moment, and frankly, he could care less about illegal imports. It was impossible to think about something so trivial with You-Know-Who back and all the prisoners of Azkaban released. The dementors had simply disappeared, though Percy had a nasty suspicion, shared by many others, including Albus Dumbledore and his father, that the Dark Lord had recruited them to his ranks. Fudge was still in denial about the entire issue, claiming the dementors were the ones to blame.
"They left their posts, Dumbledore! Yes, they just got bored and left. That's all there is to it! Nothing more, nothing less." Fudge had yelled during a brief meeting with the Hogwarts Headmaster. Despite the fact that Dumbledore had declared a Parting of Ways nearly a year ago, he had returned for one final meeting to see if Fudge hadn't suddenly experienced a change of heart. However, nothing had changed. Fudge continued to exist in his continuous state of denial.
Dumbledore stroked his long white beard thoughtfully. "My dear Fudge, I do believe there is much more to this than you or I may think. The wizards on duty at Azkaban were all killed by the Avada Kedavra curse. When the dementors disappeared, the prisoners were set free, at least those who hadn't lost their minds. Those who had gone insane, and hadn't been delivered a Dementor's Kiss, were murdered in their cells. I do not care to describe the manner in which we found those unlucky souls. Now, Fudge, would you care to try and explain that?"
"I…it's—it's preposterous!" Fudge spluttered, "You cannot…Dumbledore, surely you don't mean to say…" he had suddenly drawn himself to his full height, an "impressive" 5'4", his round face turning a bright shade of purple, "We are looking into the situation. Those prisoners who escaped will be recaptured and returned to Azkaban. We will find the dementors and negotiate something with them. This has all probably been the work of a few rambunctious Death Eaters who cannot let go of the idea that they are finished and You-Know-Who is well and truly dead. That is all it is. Now, if you'll excuse me, Dumbledore, I have a meeting to attend to shortly. I trust you can find your way out."
Honestly, Percy had felt shocked and a little disappointed by his superior's treatment of Dumbledore. After all, the older wizard was one of the most powerful in the entire wizarding world, and it had long been rumored that Dumbledore himself had turned down the position of Minister of Magic in favor of being Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
When the Headmaster had been making his way out of the Ministry, Percy had run up to him, his glasses slightly askew. "Professor, wait."
The older man had turned, his tired face breaking into a smile. "Ah, Mr. Weasley. How are you? Enjoying your work here?"
"Yes, very much." Percy had hesitated, wanting to ask him something, but not sure how to go about it. "This may seem a bit strange, but was the prisoner in the cell next to Sirius Black's old cell…well…you said that those who were insane were murdered…did you find that one dead as well?"
Dumbledore's brow furrowed slightly. "We found no one in that cell. Like the other cells some incredible force had torn off the lock. There was no body, though there were some signs of a struggle. We don't know where those prisoners who were released have gone. We think that most, especially former Death Eaters, have returned to Voldemort," Dumbledore smiled slightly at Percy's obvious flinch with the mention of the Dark Lord's name, "however, we shall find out more information as time passes. Until then, all we can do is wait and prepare ourselves for the worst."
"Are you sure, Professor? Is there nothing at all we can do?" Percy had asked, allowing a slight note of worry tell in his voice.
"We have been taking steps to helping our side since the first moment we heard Voldemort was back, back at the Triwizard Tournament. I'm sure you must remember that night."
Percy had shuddered slightly, remembering the panic of that night, how he and Bill had struggled desperately to calm the terrified crowd and their own mother, Molly, who had almost gone to pieces when Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory had disappeared and then reappeared what seemed eons later, Harry bleeding from many wounds, and Cedric dead. He remembered how Fudge had blustered the entire way back to the Ministry, refusing to allow the idea that the Dark Lord may have actually returned to cross his mind.
"What can I do to help, Professor?" Percy asked after a moment of
silence. Dumbledore smiled. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Weasley. Just continue with the excellent work you've been accomplishing here. The Ministry is lucky to have such a skilled, hard-working employee."
That had been two days ago. Now, as he sat writing reports for the Ministry all he could think about was what was happening. The jailbreak greatly worried him. When he thought about some of those men and women in the prison and what they had done to land them there, he felt a chill of fear run through his body. He had vague memories of what it had been like when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his power; how his father and mother had been constantly worried, not allowing their sons out of their sight for longer than a few hours. They had been afraid of everything back then, and it had always been Percy's secret fear that life would return to that state of constant vigilance
Percy looked at the report again, his face twisted in disgust. There was no way in hell he was going to get it done right now. He stood hastily and left his small, cramped office. 'Where can I go to get away from things?' He barely noticed where his feet were leading him as he walked through the Ministry, his mind returning once again to prisoner 26531. It still bothered him that he didn't know any more about the message. Yes, he had convinced himself that he would stop thinking about it and concern himself with the future. However, since the recent events he couldn't help but wonder about the Death Eater who'd known who his father was. If only he could find out more information, at least to fill in some of the blanks.
With a shock, he saw he was in the Ministry of Magic's library. Percy should have guessed that this would be the place he would automatically go to, considering it was his usual haven. He just enjoyed the silence of the old books and the calmness the air seemed to be filled with. Here there could be no confusions, no worries, all the answers were in the writings of those who came before him.
He walked down the aisles of bookcases, running his hand lightly over the spines of the ancient volumes. He stopped suddenly. He was in the law section, staring at a row of books, all labeled 'Chronicles of Wizard Court Hearings.' "Of course!" Percy exclaimed aloud, giving himself a mental slap. "I can't believe I didn't think of this before!" He examined each book carefully before pulling down 'Chronicles of Wizard Court Hearings, 1970-1980, 1980-1990.' He remembered that the prisoner had mentioned being silent for over fifteen years during the interview with Fudge, which meant the Death Eater's trial and incarceration must taken place around 1980. There had to be some record of the arrest and hearing in here somewhere, and perhaps the crime (he hoped there was something more helpful than the fact that the convict had been a Death Eater).
Percy carried the book with him out of the library, after having checked with the Ministry's librarian to see if he could take it with him. At first Percy contemplated returning to his office to review the book. He didn't exactly look forward to the confined space, even though he finally had an office to call his own. He struggled with the decision of whether he should go home or stay at the Ministry. It was far too early for him to leave work; he hadn't even been on lunch break yet.
Percy's answer came in the shape of Nicole Wimbles, a work colleague, hurrying down the hall towards him. It wasn't that he had anything against the girl, she was quite nice once you got her to stop complaining about her insensitive boyfriend. Rather than find out if he had dumped her for the tenth time this week, Percy ducked out the main doors of the Ministry and Apparated to his house.
Without a word to anyone as to why he was home so early, Percy ran to his bedroom and locked himself in. He sat down at the desk, opening the book, and started the long process of finding this 'Arrow' by going through every single trial case for every year.
He'd made it to 1976 before there was a knock on his door. Irritated, he stood up, nearly knocking his chair over, and succeeding in bashing his leg against a sharp corner of his bed. Swearing was not usually his style, but by the time he got to the door, Percy was making it his style, and coming up with several inventive, colorful phrases to describe the bed. He unlocked the door and peered out, rubbing his leg gingerly, his face flushed and upset. "What is it?" He snapped, before he saw who was standing in the hallway. "Bill? What are you doing back?" His ponytail- sporting brother flashed him a smile.
"Hey there, Perce, it's nice to see you too. Actually, I'm just home for a visit, and then I'm off again. Mind if I come in?" Percy hesitated the briefest of moments before opening the door the rest of the way.
"No. Come on in."
Percy gestured for Bill to sit, but he remained standing. Percy shrugged and sat on the chair instead, shielding the book on the desk with his body. Bill crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, Percy, I suppose I'll just tell you why I'm here. Mum saw you run in and straight upstairs in the middle of the afternoon without a word to her. Now, she's just wondering if everything's okay, you know what I mean?"
"Yes, everything's just fine. Why is it so strange that I came home? It is where I live, after all." Percy said, raising his eyebrows innocently.
"Godamn, Perce. There's something up, I know it. You've never missed a day of work in your life, not ever. Hell, even in school you would go to class half-dead if you had to. Remember that day you had to be carried to the infirmary because you passed out in McGonagall's Transfiguration class? Mum went into hysterics when she got that owl. The only way you would ever miss work is if Hell's frozen over and Beelzebub's joined the Ice Capades." Bill gestured wildly, losing his cool. Percy gave a short, humorless laugh.
"Then you better get a pair of ice skates, Bill. I have missed work, so what? It's no big deal." Bill slumped onto the bed, staring at his younger brother.
"Who are you, and what have you done with Percy?" Percy shrugged. They sat
in silence, looking at each other for a moment.
"Have you been fired?" Bill asked suddenly. Percy shook his head.
"Nope. Just took the day off to get some…extra work done."
"You took the day off to do more work? Why the hell didn't you just work
over time? It would've saved Mum the heart attack, that's for sure. We were all expecting the worse."
"It's…it doesn't have to do with the Ministry…" Percy hesitated, wondering how much he should tell his older brother, "At least, I don't think it does yet. Let's just say it is something of a personal mission of mine…that's all."
Bill raised his eyebrows. "You have a life outside the Ministry, Percy? Well, that's a bit shocking." They were silent for moment, and Percy felt the familiar anger rising inside him at the thought that his family didn't think he had any life other than work. 'But it's true, Percy. Before this thing, all you did care about was reports on cauldron bottom thickness.' A small voice whispered in the back of his mind.
"Do you need any help with whatever it is you're doing?" Bill asked. Percy shook his head.
"No, but if anything comes from it, I'll be sure to let everyone know, okay?"
His older brother leaned forward. "What is it, Percy? Can you give me a hint?"
Percy shook his head again, standing quickly. "No, Bill, I really can't. Just let it
go for now, okay? Like I said, I'll tell you about it if something happens. Let Mother know that I haven't been fired and that everything's okay, will you?"
"Sure, Perce, whatever you want." Bill shrugged. Percy let out a small sigh of relief.
"Now, um, do you think I could have some privacy to work on this?"
"Oh, yeah, of course. See you at dinner, Percy." Bill stood to leave, but before he walked out the door, he turned to face his younger brother. "Good
luck, Percy." Percy smiled slightly.
"Thanks, Bill."
Three hours later, Percy had finally gotten to 1978. The number of trials per year increased greatly since 1975, and most of the defendants were charged for being Death Eaters, for torturing and murdering Muggles and wizards alike. He scanned the page, glimpsing at each trial for key words, Death Eater, Arrow, Jakura, and even his own father's name. And he found it. It was a small passage, barely even noticeable at the bottom of the page. Percy read it closely, his eyes widening with each word. When he finished, he sat a moment staring at some spot on the wall in front of him. The small voice was back again, whispering. 'I don't believe it.'
