Chapter Five: The Political Party

The Malfoy manor shimmered with flickering sky-blue candles and draped midnight silk. Every fresh flower, every portrait, every sconce and table told stories of vast wealth and perfect taste.

And no more than I deserve, thought Percy proudly. Hard work, intelligence and a good attitude had taken him as far as he could go at Hogwarts, and he had no doubt that it could take him even farther in the Ministry.

He milled around the Malfoy's sitting room with a handful of other Ministry officials. Some he recognized from the Wizengamot; others Fudge had pointed out in passing. This was an elite group, he thought to himself. I knew it wouldn't be long before I was among them.

Narcissa Malfoy swept into the room graciously and made a small bow. "Thank you all for coming," she said grandly, extending one slender hand. "Dinner is served in the Mahogany Dining Room. Please follow me."

My my, the Mahogany Dining Room, thought Percy, joining the small crowd of dapper men and well-dressed women as they filtered through the lush carpeted halls. One day, he decided, he too would live in a house with so many dining rooms that he had to name them.

The Mahogany Dining Room was stunning; hardwood floors, towering columns and a brilliant cathedral ceiling made a majestic backdrop to a lavish U-shaped table spread with finery and food. Somewhere, an unseen quartet played Gorgonzolli's Flight of the Glumbumble. Each place was set with gold, china and silk, designated with a name that shimmered in gold above the seat. Percy found his own near the end of one of the legs of the U, between a stout, mustachioed man and a tiny woman who looked as if she could barely lift her heavy gold goblet.

When everyone was seated, the lights dimmed slightly and a torch flared at the head of the table. Front and center sat Dolores Umbridge, beaming around and giving tiny waves of her hand to friends along the table. On her left sat Minister Fudge. On the right was Lucius Malfoy. He stood up, tall frame elegant in the firelight, and raised his goblet.

"Welcome, friends," he said warmly, "to our humble home. Narcissa and I are delighted to have you all here, and we are especially delighted at the occasion which prompted this gathering. Our dear friend Dolores Jane --" There was some smattering of applause, and Lucius waited until it died down. "Dolores Jane has been a driving force in the Ministry for many years. Her dedication, loyalty, and ambition have not gone unnoticed, and as you all know, Minister Fudge has promoted her to a high-ranking position at Hogwarts School."

This time nearly everyone joined in the applause. The smile never left Madam Umbridge's face.

"We gather in her honor," Lucius said, when the applause ended. "As colleagues -- as well-wishers -- as supporters -- and as friends. Dolores, we all wish you the best of luck in your new position, and we trust that you will do what you can to make Hogwarts a better place for our children. To your success."

He raised his glass further, and everyone joined in the toast.

Dinner was fabulous. The Malfoys had lost their house elf several years ago, Percy remembered, but they must have acquired another; the meal that magically appeared before them was varied, vast, and delicious. Percy hadn't had such elegant fare since the previous year's Yule Ball. He wasn't likely to have it again anytime soon, he reasoned -- a fry-up at Perkins' was about the best it got, most days -- so he dug into the escargot with gusto and ignored the fact that the wispy woman on his right had little more to eat than a salad and some appetizers.

Eventually the meal gave way to cocktails and dancing. The table was Banished and the floor cleared; a few words from the host, and the Mahogany Dining Room became a spacious Mahogany Ballroom. Opulent crystal chandeliers dropped from the ceiling and hung unsupported far above the heads of the guests.

Percy spent some time chatting with the tiny woman beside him (so pale in the candlelight that he thought she might faint) and then made his rounds, talking shop with others who worked on the first floor of the Ministry. Though Madam Umbridge was constantly surrounded by friends and admirers, he managed to slip in to offer her congratulations and even spoke with her about some of the changes she had in mind for Hogwarts. When she was whisked away to dance by another Ministry worker, Percy wandered to the wet bar and stood watching the guests, perfectly content with the world.

Across the room, Minister Fudge stood chatting with Lucius Malfoy and a bulldog-faced wizard with wiry gray hair who Percy recognized as an Auror. He spotted Percy and waved his arm invitingly. Percy hurried to his side.

"Yes, sir?"

Minister Fudge chuckled. "Just as I was telling you, Dawlish -- young Weasley's quite the eager achiever."

"Then the apple has fallen far from the tree," murmured Malfoy, inclining his head slightly. "Forgive me, Minister, but I must have a word with Madam Meliflua." He made a small bow and glided across the room to where a cronish woman stood admiring a tapestry of a unicorn hunt.

"Fine man, Lucius," remarked Minister Fudge. "Quite generous. He's done great things for St. Mungo's, a great one for charity ..."

Percy interrupted the Minister politely. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Ah, yes." Fudge smiled as if bestowing a gift. "I have some news that may interest you."

Percy tilted his head inquisitively. "News, sir?"

"Good news, I promise," Minister Fudge chuckled. "Dolores tells me that your brother has been made a Hogwarts prefect."

Percy's jaw dropped. "Ron?" He recovered himself quickly. "That's -- that's fantastic, sir!"

"I knew you'd be pleased," said Fudge self-satisfactorily. "I expect your family will be quite proud."

Percy caught shrewd way that the two were watching him. "I expect so," he said stiffly. "I wouldn't know, sir."

Minister Fudge looked just a bit disappointed. Then he said, casually swirling the drink in his glass, "It is a shame about the company that your brother is keeping."

The only company that Ron kept regularly was that of Harry Potter. Percy's lips tightened. All things being what they were, there was no more dangerous place than beside the Potter boy. He glanced up at Minister Fudge, who was watching him keenly. Obviously, a reaction was expected.

"I think I see what you mean, sir," he said slowly.

Minister Fudge nodded gravely. "I can see that you do, my lad," he said.

Madam Umbridge came over and both of them looked her way. She nodded to Fudge and approached Percy with a smile. "Young Mr. Weasley," she simpered, "would you do an old colleague the honor of a dance?"

"I'd be delighted," said Percy grandly, and the secretaries to the Minister swept onto the dance floor.

***

Unsurprisingly, Johnny Peasegood was out by the time Percy got home. Madam Swainbrooke lay sprawled before the fireplace, snoring gently, two knitting needles and half a cardigan rising and falling with her considerable bosom. Careful not to disturb her, Percy hung his cloak as quietly as possible and crept upstairs.

He changed his dress robes for a pair of striped pajamas and hung the robes neatly in his closet, casting a quick charm to get out the wrinkles. He sat down at his desk, shuffled through a few Scarlet Raven-related papers, and decided that so long as no emergencies came up, it could all wait another night. Perkins was undoubtedly out patrolling the toilets, he'd owl if anything came up ...

Percy's mind went back to Minister Fudge's comments about Ron. He still couldn't fathom it. Ron -- a prefect? They'd made a prefect of the boy who flew a car into the Whomping Willow? Things had certainly changed since his days at Hogwarts, Percy reflected -- not to begrudge Ron's accomplishment, of course, it was a very good sign that he may have turned his act around since then.

Whistling to Hermes, Percy went to his desk, whipped out a quill and began to write.

Dear Ron,

I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister of Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect.

I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the "Fred and George" route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility.

That looked good. A pleasant beginning -- friendly, congratulatory. A nice, easy way to end a summer-long estrangement. Encouraged, Percy dipped his quill again and went on to the crux of the matter.

But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions.

Again, Percy congratulated himself on his own sensitivity. Imagine reading this at breakfast, with Potter in the next seat wanting to know what it said!

From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued fraternization with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this -- no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favorite -- but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different -- and probably more accurate -- view of Potter's behavior. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing -- and see if you can spot yours truly!

Putting in a spot of humor at the end was a good idea. It helped soften the words. Percy hated that he couldn't say what he wanted to -- that with Lord Voldemort as an enemy, running around with Harry Potter was suicide in more than the political sense -- but he was able to make his point despite the mask of denial. He hoped Ron would read the letter carefully enough, and think about it long enough, to divine what kind of danger he was in.

Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very damaging to your future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted him to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing this summer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a mere technicality if you ask me and many of the people I've spoken to remain convinced of his guilt.

Percy put down his quill and idly stroked Hermes' head. This was an issue he'd been fighting with for weeks. The idea of dementors on a Muggle street was ridiculous: Lord Voldemort wouldn't make such an obvious move, and no one else -- not even Minister Fudge -- seemed to bear such ill will toward the boy. Clearly, Potter and his Squib witness had been lying. But why?

Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord twice and escaped him once. But -- Percy scratched his cheek with the quill uncomfortably -- no one knew how. This thought in hand, he bent to write a few more lines.

It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter -- I know that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know, violent -- but if you have any worries about this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behavior that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a really delightful woman, who I know will be only too happy to advise you.

Percy nodded satisfactorily. He'd given sensible advice, enumerated his reasons and offered Umbridge as a higher-level authority.

This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should not be to him, but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that so far Professor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week -- again, see the Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this -- a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years!

There were two dangerous places to be, Percy reflected, re-reading the letter: beside Harry Potter, and among Dumbledore's "old crowd." If history was any indication -- and Percy suspected that it was -- the Order of the Phoenix would be unorganized, ill-equipped, and constantly under attack from Voldemort's forces.

And look who the organization included! Silly Hestia Jones and that clumsy Auror with the inconsistent hair. Mundungus Fletcher, for heaven's sake! As for the rest ... no werewolf is safe, no matter how sensible they may be during the rest of the month ... and nobody who has spent twelve years in Azkaban, innocent or not (Percy hadn't decided whether he believed the whole fantastic story about Sirius Black) can be fully reliable.

The rest of the family was mature enough to gauge the risk, but Percy wanted Ron and Ginny as far away from the Order as they could get.

I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (if you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders). I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people -- the Minister really could not be more gracious to me -- and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realize how mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes.

Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect.
Your brother,
Percy

Percy read the letter through twice before sending it. It was longer than he'd expected; his mother would call it "chatty". A nice chatty letter to his little brother, filled with sound advice, congratulations and best wishes. He had managed to be kind yet forthcoming, and -- he checked again, to be sure -- he'd given away nothing about how much he knew. A masterpiece.

Rolling the parchment into a scroll and sealing it with wax, he addressed it carefully and handed it to Hermes. "Come right back," he ordered, stroking the owl's head. "I'll need you tomorrow."

Hermes hooted obligingly and took off out the open window.

Secure in his knowledge that he had done his brotherly duty, Percy yawned, stretched, and prepared for bed. It had been a long day.