This is a rather depressing little story about Percy. I rated it PG-13 just as a precaution because somebody dies, and no, this isn't Percy/Oliver or Percy/Neville slash. How amazing! I do hope you like it!
Chapter One
Percy Weasley stared at the three-hundred page long list of illegal Floo Powder fireplaces and carefully began checking off all the ones that another stack of paper said had been either destroyed or registered. Running his hand through his bright red hair, Percy decided he needed to comb it again. Reaching in his pocket for his comb, which he cleaned daily, Percy allowed a slight sigh to escape his lips, but nothing more. The skinny, freckled boy had dark circles under his eyes, and he looked like he really needed a good night's sleep. Perhaps it was simply work, or perhaps something else was bothering him. Making sure each check looked exactly the same as the last, he worked hard into the night, hearing almost everyone on his level leave before him. At around one o'clock, he felt his eyelids become heavy, and his stomach was growling. He must have forgotten to have lunch. He just had to finish this two days early, it might impress Mr. Eaver, who had given him this assignment. Pausing, he saw that one had been crossed out onto the destroyed/registered list, then checked, then written again, then lightly crossed out. He tried hard to discover what the paper writer's motive was, but he couldn't. Knowing he just couldn't get a single thing wrong, Percy decided to ask Mr. Eaver, whom he knew was working late. Mr. Eaver was a hardworking man, almost as motivated as Percy himself. To state the obvious: Percy greatly admired him. He is absolutely wonderful! Percy thought warmly, he is always on top of things. He is almost as great as Mr. Crouch was! I wish I could be able and important as him. The light in the hallway had been turned out, and Percy had to attempt a rather ungainly struggle with a strange box in the middle of the hallway before he found the light switch. Heading down the hallway briskly he turned once and then saw Mr. Eaver's office. The door was closed, so Percy knocked quietly and then opened the door. About to greet Mr. Eaver enthusiastically, what he saw stopped Percy in his tracks.
The janitor on their level, a friendly but unsociable man who had muscles like a young ox, was standing behind a very frightened looking Mr. Eaver. Eaver was bowing repeatedly at the fire and muttering. "Y-yes, Master Voldemort, yes w-we sh-all execute your plan as soon as poss-possible. No, no! I won't fail again, I won't!" Mr. Eaver sank to the ground and shivered. "No, I won't Master! N-no, you won't have to punish me again."
The horrible voice from the fire snarled, "The boy, you fool! Look behind you, who is that boy?! He looks like that blasted Arther Weasley, the meddling fool!" There was a poof of smoke from around the fire, and Percy thought that whoever had been there had gone. Mr. Eaver turned around and his eyes widened at the site of Percy. "Mr. Weasley?! What are you doing here so late at night?! What did you see, boy? Did you see anything? Anything?!"
Percy couldn't move; he was paralyzed with fear. His heart was going so fast he thought he might have a hard attack. He felt faint and didn't think he was seeing right when Mr. Eaver drew his wand and pointed it straight at him. Finally able to move, Percy bolted out the door. "Damn that boy! Go after him, Yever! Get him! Don't let him leave the level!"
Mr. Eaver's voice echoed in the hallway, and Percy heard Yever pounding after him. Percy felt his heart beat even faster then before, and his whole body shook. Racing down the hall, Percy failed to notice the box he had had trouble with before, and went crashing into it, then falling over. The janitor (Percy didn't even know his name) pinned him to the ground while Eaver came to a stop behind him, breathing heavily. "Take his wand, and let him up slowly." Eaver said voice high, like he had just had a panic attack. He looked at Percy with a wild, insane look. Percy was able to stand, and as he faced Mr. Eaver, a wand was stuck in his face.
"Mr. Weasley," said Eaver, "I'm prepared to make you a proposition." Eaver pulled some sort of muggle stick (maybe candy?) out of his pocket with one hand stuck it in his mouth with it hanging out, took out another muggle device, lit the thing on fire, and breathed deeply. It seemed to calm him down a bit. "I'm willing to let you live. I don't like unnecessary death, you see. I think I am being very generous. If you live, you will join us, the Death Eaters, with the Master as our head. You will do what we say, and do it as fast and as…clean as possible." Looking at Percy's expression, Eaver smiled slightly. "Perhaps you wouldn't be so righteous if you got a sizable promotion by, let's say, Monday?"
Percy stared at Eaver, his heart leaping at the proposition. A promotion? So fast? The horror fear of dying that had encased his heart was slowly fading away, leaving him with a sick feeling of want. It was like something was crawling in his stomach and ripping out all his morality and leaving only shreds, dust and an aching desire. "A promotion?" Percy whispered, "You would give me a promotion?" He had tried hard all his life to advance and become better, to get people to respect him and to trust him. How he had loved the petty power of being a Prefect and a Headboy came to his mind. He thought of the importance he had felt when judging the Triwizard tournament, and how he had worked so hard to get all the promotions he had gotten in the past year. He wanted power, and he deserved this promotion, even if he was going to join the Death Eaters to do it!
Percy looked up at Eaver, who understood his desires so well. But—Percy, said a small voice in his mind, A Death Eater took over Mr. Crouch, and then he killed him! A Death Eater killed Mr. Crouch! He took him over and he killed him! Now Percy was completely divided, and very lost. A very strange thought came to his mind. What would my father do? It was one of the most absurd questions he had ever asked himself, because for years he had been annoyed and disgusted by his father, who had no ambition or desire to advance. It had been years before Percy had looked to his father for anything more then a dinner plate. But Percy knew that his father would have stood here, fought bravely, and have probably died. In some ways, his father was a better man they he could ever hope to be, and in the back of his mind, Percy knew it.
Looking at Eaver, not feeling brave at all, Percy said shakily, "No. No, I won't." It didn't sound very sure. But he had said it. He had really said it. As soon as he said it Percy felt his knees buckle and he felt his heart do a jump and forget to beat. He was going to die, and he couldn't even stand up and face his death, he had to cower on the ground in fear. Why had he been put in Gryffindor? Why was this happening to him? He was so young! Why had he felt he had to know about that fireplace? Why couldn't he have waited tell morning? Why hadn't he accepted the offer? Why hadn't he apologized to his family before this happened? He would die and they would never work anything out!
Percy looked at Mr. Eaver, eyes void of feeling. He was not ready to die.
Chapter Two
"Imperius!" Dimly Percy heard the shout, saw the wand do a loop, and then he felt a detached, pleasant feeling of nothingness inside his brain. Percy was given a command, and he went to obey it. Well, it did seem like a good idea, a very good idea. Percy smiled detachedly at the two nice men in the hallway and was off to where he could avaporate.
The door flew open with a loud bang, and Percy, eyes hard, strowed into his former home to find Ginny making hot chocolate. The kitchen smelled just like it had when he had still been going to school, even before he had become a Prefect. Everything was just as helter-skelter as it once was, and it felt very warm and comforting. Something seemed to whisper inside his brain: My family. I've come home to my family! His heart gave a great leap and he actually smiled. Ginny turned around and saw her brother, and her eyes lit up. "Percy! I knew you would come back! I'm so happy to see you! Did you know I got three "Superbs" on my grade sheet?! I just couldn't wait to tell you! I missed you so much, and I already forgive you for all the horrible things you said in that letter you wrote. Can you stay for dinner?" Kill her! The voice inside his brain hissed, kill that girl! Percy paused, dumbstruck. Kill her?! No, why?! Please don't make me! Percy stood there, for the first time actually fighting the curse that had been forced upon him. Ginny ran towards Percy, arms outstretched, a large smile on her innocent face. Percy had never been the one to question authority. He raised his wand. "Avarda Kadabra!" A green light shot towards Ginny, and she fell like a stone to the floor.
Percy stepped over the dead body of his sister and continued to the living room. There Ron and his mother were playing wizards' chess, and by the look of it, and the way she was giggling, Ron was clearly winning. Kill them too, Mr. Weasley, kill them too! The voice inside his head sounded mad with glee. Percy pointed the wand at his brother, the Prefect, raised it above his head, and was about to kill his brother. A small resistance built up inside his brain, growing and growing as he stood there, uncertain, putting his wand down with force, then having it shoots up again as soon as he could no longer resist the command in his mind. Ron looked over at Percy, and his eyes grew wide. Grabbing his mother, they fled to the next room, and Percy, half of his mind bloodthirsty, followed them. Now they had no where to run, and neither of them had their wands. This was a perfect time to almost complete his job; he could do it so easily. The voice was so calm and reassuring. Yes, this was the right thing to do. No! He wouldn't let himself do this. He had too! No, he didn't! With effort, Percy turned the wand to his own chest and commanded shakily, "Perfectous Totallous!" The body of Percy, completely paralyzed, thumped on the ground.
Chapter Three
Percy woke up in what looked like a hospital, and the strange thing was, he felt like he was completely free of the impervious spell. He looked around, seeing two people who reminded him of Neville, someone who looked like—who was—Professor Lockhart (Oh God.), and a few other people. Then he remembered what had happened. He stumbled out of the hospital bed and grabbed someone who looked like a nurse. "Ginny! Where is Ginny?! Is she ok? Please tell me where she is! What is this place? Why am I here?!" The nurse turned and smiled at him, a sickly fake smile. "Mr. Weasley, please return to your bed unless you want to be placed in seclusion. Your physiatrist is going to talk with you in just around fifteen minutes."
His psychologist?! Percy raced to the door and tried to open it, desperately. "They are going to kill my family!" He muttered, desperately, "Stop them, I have to stop them! You must let me go!"
"Mr. Weasley, please sit on your bed. Your family is scheduled to see you in an hour and a half. Let me assure you, they are perfectly fine. Don't be foolish, Mr. Weasley, this door is magically sealed, and your wand has been destroyed." Percy slumped to the floor, mind overpowered by fear.
The nurse turned to a friendly looking man in green robes and whispered to him, "His mental decline is likely due to stress. He worked at the ministry, usually staying up tell at least three o'clock. He was moving through the ranks very rapidly for one so young, but I'm afraid he just couldn't take it. His boss, Mr. Eaver, says the boy, his name is Percy Weasley, lately had been acting paranoid, believing Death Eaters were taking over the ministry and locking his door before he started to work. He also says that Percy had gone so far as to suspect him, and that he constantly made up wild stories about encounters with dark wizardry. Mr. Eaver also says that Percy seemed to act like he heard voices, who told him to do things. We think this is why he murdered his sister."
Percy dimly heard all that was being said, unable to register "he murdered his sister." He sat there, unable to move, completely locked in grief. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and saw vaguely a flash of green. "Percy, my name is Doctor Harrison. I want you to tell me about the voices." The man knelt next to him, smiling in a friendly way. He had small glasses that gave him a scholarly look, with a round, pleasant face that made him look extremely innocent. He had short, cropped brown hair, along with large brown eyes.
Percy turned away from him and pounded on the door, tears streaming down his face, "They want to kill my family! You have to let me go!" He started hit the door harder, wildly and with abandon.
"The voices want you to kill your family?"
"No! Well, yes. I was under the impervious spell, which Mr. Eaver put on me because I saw him talking to Lord Voldemort in the fire!" Percy looked at him desperately. The man obviously did not believe him.
"Mr. Weasley. I know this may come as a shock to you, but Mr. Eaver is not a Death Eater. In fact, he is a very respected man who has worked in the ministry for years. I'm very sorry I have to tell you this, but you must know in order to improve." The man looked at Percy like he felt extremely sorry for him.
"Look." Percy said, shaking slightly, "You might not believe me, but please at least test me for the spell! Please, you have to! You have to…" Percy stopped banging and lay on the ground in a daze.
"Mr. Weasley, that costs us over 20 galleons, and we run a tight ship here. We really don't think that is necessary. Now, calm down, your family is here to see you. Isn't that nice, Percy? Am I allowed to call you Percy?"
To be continued with a Chapter Four…