Chapter Eight: It's in the Name

Percy slammed the heavy volume in front of his father, effectively squishing the slightly wilted broccoli and cold meat left over from their dinner that evening. "Read that!" he exclaimed, stabbing a finger emphatically at the open page.

Arthur raised his eyebrows and leaned forward to read what Percy had given him. After a few minutes of silence, he looked up at his son, his eyes wide in shock. "How did you find this?"

"I did a little research. Plus, the Ministry's a somewhat over- zealous about their records." Percy remained standing, his arms crossed, his eyes flashing behind his characteristic horn-rimmed glasses.

For some reason, Arthur grinned at him. "That's why you're so perfect for the Ministry, Perce."

"This isn't about me, Father." Percy threw his hands into the air. "This is far more important than some low-paying job at the Ministry of Magic. Just explain this to me, will you?"

Arthur looked back down at the page. "I'm not sure I can."

"What do you mean you're not sure you can? The fate of a person may have rested on your shoulders, and you never even stepped forward to give a testimony." Percy was practically yelling at this point.

Arthur stood, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Percy, calm down. I can't even remember any of this, and I especially didn't remember it at the time of the trial. So how could I have given a testimony if I was clueless about the entire thing to begin with?"

"I don't understand." Percy sat in a chair, rubbing his forehead in exasperation, "How can you not remember someone who has your own name? Hello? Weasley. That Death Eater is a Weasley…or was—could be dead by now for all I know. Father, you do know about what happened to those people in Azkaban, don't you?"

Arthur nodded, his expression mournful. "Yes, I do. But Percy, can't you see that something just isn't working here? You said the prisoner's name was Arrow, didn't you?"

"Yes. At least, that's what I assumed." Percy looked questioningly at his father.

Arthur's forehead wrinkled slightly in concentration. "Then why is there a different name recorded here?"

"Maybe it's some kind of nickname…" he trailed off as he watched his father suddenly go rigid, his eyes slightly misted over, as if recalling something long thought to be forgotten. "When Voldemort was at the height of his power, we who fought against him formed a group that worked alongside Aurors. To keep our identities secret, in case any of our correspondences were intercepted, we assumed code names, like nicknames. I was Spark. I don't know how I came up with that one…"

"All right, so I suppose we can assume this Arrow was one of your group, correct?" Percy jumped from his chair and started pacing. Arthur watched slightly bemused. "Do you think anyone actually went to the trial? Anyone who might remember it?" Percy asked. Then it hit him—the person who must have attended all of the trials during Voldemort's era. "Father, I need to speak to Albus Dumbledore."