Ron sipped a cup of coffee. Copper hair dripped down his face, still damp from the gallons of sweat that seemed to pour from him like he was a spigot. He brushed his hair from his hazel eyes and took another sip. "You haven't slept the entire night all summer."
Ron looked up from his mug to see Ginny hugging the doorframe, a thin white shift hanging off her shoulders. She looked positively angelic, the soft glow from the candle glinting off of that fire hair. "Neither have you, apparently," he shot back, his voice leaden. "I always wake up once or twice- don't change the subject. Don't think I haven't caught you doing that," Ginny said forcefully, pulling out a chair and dropping into it. She fixed him with a sharp glare, and Ron found he couldn't get away from it.
"It's just dreams, is all," Ron mumbled, taking another sip of his coffee from the electric orange mug. He met Ginny's eyes again; they still looked fierce. With a sigh, he tried again. "Look, it's just residual from the attack. Madam Pomfrey told me to expect it, as there is only so much that green junk could do. I'm fine, really." He took another sip and looked up at Ginny. She pulled Percy's journal and a quill from seemingly mid-air and put them in front of Ron. "Oh... shite," Ron groaned, leaning back in his chair. "I noticed one of my Invisi-Quills missing- imagine me finding it in your drawer," she said simply, worry haunting her eyes.
"Look, it's just dreams, right. Compilations of all the crap Percy drew and my mind twisting it. It's nothing, don't worry about it," Ron whispered harshly, sliding the chair out from under him with the wooden legs scraping the floor. He put his cup in the sink and looked back at Ginny. "Really. We've got bigger things to worry about, Gin. I appreciate your concern." Ron walked past her into the living room.
"You didn't seem to be surprised at what Hermione said earlier, about what happened and where she's been. You get up and walk out the door the moment Neville hits Harry in the middle of our conversation, like you knew. How did you know, Ron?" Ginny nearly shouted from the doorway. "All of a sudden you're accommodating... and intuitive! You've got the emotional range of a teaspoon, remember?" she added. Ron grasped the bannister of the staircase and gave a last look at Ginny.
"I don't know," he said finally, slowly. "I don't know why this is happening, I don't know how I know. I don't know what to tell you, Gin." He gave her a goofy half smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Ginny looked up at her big brother with a troubled eyes. She looked like she was 5 again, asking her big brother why the neighborhood kneazle wasn't coming back. He didn't know how to tell her he was dead. Without another word, he walked back up the stairs to his room.
"Come on, Neville, dear," Mrs. Weasley pulled the pot of oatmeal from the table and dropped it in the sink. Scrubbing brushes flew from the basin and started attaching the cauldron with a vengeance. Hermione and Ginny swept into the kitchen, their long cloaks floating across the wooden floor. "Harry, Ronald! Let's go!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed from the stairs. Clomping sounded through the house as they two dropped down onto the landing and came into the kitchen. "Alright, Mr. Green and Tonks will meet you at the other end and escort you to the Ministry. I'm sure you can take it from there," she blathered hurriedly, nervously. "Alright, Hermione, Neville. You two first," she added, pulling the top off the Floo Powder jar. They each took a pinch and threw it into the lit fireplace. It shot green and with a simple "Diagon Alley," the two of them were gone. Harry and Ginny followed suit. Ron kissed his mother on the cheek. "Relax, mum. We'll be fine," he said gently and tossed his pinch into the fire. She cupped his cheek and gave him a kiss back, a smile on her face. "Of course dear. Have a good time." She didn't sound completely convinced. Ron jumped into the fire.
Tonks looked genuinely ecstatic to be standing next to the suave Mr. Green. She looked practically business-like: chocolate brown hair cut into a stylish, yet conservative bob, khaki flared skirt and white blouse hid behind an open mocha robe. Her smile dazzled as she grabbed up Ginny and squeezed. "Wotcher, Harry," she said gleefully, frazzling his hair. He gave her an annoyed look as he tried to smooth it down and failed. Mr. Green greeted Hermione, who gave him a quiet smile. "Alright, to the Ministry," he said, giving a pointed look to Tonks. She straightened up and ushered Ron and Neville in front of her. "Oh yes, this way."
They dashed past the shops: Madam Maulkins, Flourish and Botts, The Owlery. Gringotts's gold sign winked in the blinding grayness of the sky. They found themselves shortly in front of the Ministry of Magic's Diagon Alley entrance. This doorway, instead of being a telephone booth, was lavish and bright. Cheery red brick extended in every direction with the union jack flying high alongside smaller flags of every nation in wizardom. They walked through the glass doors and towards security. Each were given visitor passes and had their wands weighed. Each were swept through the atrium; the statue of the wizard, witch, elf and centaur was gone, replaced by a large sign reading "UNDER CONSTRUCTION, PARDON THE INCONVENIENCE."
They arrived on the second floor without incident. The hallway seemed absolutely alive with memos: purple origami planes and orange paper birds flapped and flittered through the bustling crowds. "Hallo Harry!" a voice rose above the fuss. Harry turned his head to find Remus Lupin dodging his way to him. Harry's face, already frowning, drooped lower. "What are you lot doing here?" he said after coming face to face with the five of them plus two. "Research for History of Magic, Professor. I thought we might check through the records to see if we could find any points of interest," Hermione piped up. Five angelic faces smiled at him. "Please, Hermione. I must remind you I am no longer your professor. I'd prefer Remus, Mr. Lupin if you must." With a bob of the head, he disappeared back into the crowd. Mr. Green led the way passed the people bunched up in front of the Auror Headquarters office.
Expansive did not do the Ministry Archives justice. Enormous, maybe. Gargantuan, possibly. Hermione's eyes glazed over, a look of pure joy sweeping across her features. Polished maple floors, oak bookcases extending skywards, sleek tables and chairs. And in front of them, a meager information desk. The librarian was a thin man, with orange tufts of wiry hair sprouting from his head; long, lanky limbs in a tan robe, watery brown eyes that seemed to hold the depths of the universe within them. He was a quiet man, with few words and even fewer lunch breaks. Rumor was, he never left the archives.
Hermione strode to the desk with an air of belonging. This was her domain: parchment and ink, memories, anecdotes, histories of a thousand million wizards and witches. "Two hours, and we'll come and collect you. Don't leave the premises," Mr. Green said strictly, his eyes wandering particularly on Hermione. A chorus of whispered "we won't" replied. Mr. Green nodded his head and escorted Tonks from the archives, but not before her nose exploded into a monstrous purple hook before shrinking back to her normal one. Ginny giggled uncontrollably for a quick second, before Ron nudged her. "We're looking for the wizard catalogues," Hermione began talking to the Librarian . Ron pulled Ginny, Harry and Neville aside as Hermione asked a series of questions.
"Alright, if anyone asks, make something up. Bathroom, whatever. We should only be gone for 20 minutes at the most. You got the cloak?" Ron asked Harry. It was only to get to the elevators. There would be no way in hell that the offices of the Ministry would have no security against invisibility cloaks. Hermione smiled as she carried a thin, square, flat piece of metal with small holes punched in it towards them. "Do you believe they have something akin to a computer system here?" Hermione directed the comment towards Harry. Harry rolled his eyes, pulling Ron into the stacks. Ginny followed him in. Harry peeled off his outer robe and let it drop to the floor. Draping his shoulders was the iridescent fabric that could only be the invisibility cloak. He pulled that off as well and tossed it to Ron. Ron threw it over his shoulders- he had to stoop low to get it to fit. "You need to stop growing; you're like a bloody tree now," Harry cracked at Ron. "Oh, ha ha, shrimp. Come on Gin, we should be fine," Ron was holding the cloak like he was a flying squirrel, and he ran over and wrapped his arms around Ginny, wailing like a moose. He engulfed her in the cloak and the two of them vanished, though the effect was rather lessened considering Ron was still making moose sounds and Ginny was laughing loudly. "It'll work," Harry said after a moment. "I'm going to sprain my back, doing this though," Ron grumbled. "Well, let's get a move-on then. See you in a bit, Harry," he heard Ginny say and then soft footsteps drifting away.
Maneuvering through the masses gathered in front of the Auror HQ was horrendous. Apparently, every mother in the British Empire was attempting to have their houses personally charmed by an Auror. Ron and Ginny skirted the main part of the crowd with some difficulty, causing a lot of mothers to turn their heads and find no one bumping into them. Ron poked out a finger from the cloak and hit the down button. The elevator, some moments later, ground to a halt on the second floor. More mothers poured out of the box, each dressed in various degrees of apron. Ron and Ginny squeezed in, ripping the invisibility cloak off at the same time. When they came faced to face with an elderly man in a deep red robe and matching tie, he hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary.
The doors opened onto the first floor, Ministry administration. Glass walls showed every secretary's desk and expensive chairs and couches littered the area. Another security checkpoint.
"Do you have an appointment?"
Ron and Ginny looked up at the elegantly dressed man behind the security desk. He was large in the way that oil rigs were compared to hand drills. Solid muscle. He unfolded himself from his puny chair and stood in front of the glass doors into the main waiting area. "We were hoping to see our brother. Percy Weasley. Junior Undersecretary to the Minister," Ginny chirped hopefully. The man looked down at her with a curious look on his face. "Your brother?" he said slowly. Ginny pulled the badge off of her robe and handed it to him. Ron followed. Both smiled brightly. He examined both of the name tags and handed them back. "I didn't know Percy had any siblings," he remarked after examination. "He's got 6 of them," Ginny replied, sliding through the glass doors. Ron followed her in.
They walked through the corridors, the walls still glass, but fogged to a pleasant cream color. Name plates shimmered in gold across each door. "We should have checked the directory," Ginny grumbled. "Did you see a directory? I didn't. And we didn't need any more attention drawn to us. We aren't supposed to be here, remember?" Ron shot back. He looked to his right and stopped short. "Oh. Here it is." Percy Weasley, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister in glimmering gold. The two of them stared at the door, side by side, both of them unwilling to touch the doorknob. Ron raised his hand hesitantly and paused. He knocked.
Hermione dragged Harry and Neville to a line of metal boxes alongside the far wall. The boxes were set inside a long cherry desk with holes the size of a galleon cut into the top, spaced equally with the metal boxes. Hermione slipped the metal card into the far left box. White light suddenly shot up from the desk in the shape of an inverted cone, about 3 foot long. A small elf in a blue shift appeared in the light, floating gently. Neville and Harry both watched, amazed as the elf twittered, "Who would you like to find today?" "Percy Ignatius Weasley," Hermione replied. A smile blossomed on the elf's face. He did a quick jig to a ditty and threw up his hands. A reference number glittered green in the white light above the elf's hands. "One entry found. Percy Ignatius Weasley, born August 22, 1976. Reference number WEA 7243743. Would you like to find again?" the elf inquired. Neville picked a quill from the selection nearby and a scrap of parchment from the tray, scribbling down the reference number. Hermione passed her hand through the field and the metal card shot out. The light vanished and Hermione pocketed the card.
Harry found the stack marked WEA 7,000,000-7,500,000 and began to skim his finger along the bound parchments. Neville and Hermione appeared shortly, following his movements. "What's the number again, Neville?" Harry asked. "7243743," Neville replied. Harry tapped a red binding and pulled it out of the stack. The books closed around the empty space with an audible snap. Harry sat down on the carpet and Hermione and Neville flanked him on either side. The red leather was embossed with Percy's name and date of birth in gold. Harry flicked up the edge of the cover and opened it. Neville frowned. Harry looked frustrated. Hermione looked shocked.
It was empty, except for one fluttering piece of parchment. In bold red ink, it proudly stated in huge letters: CLASSIFIED. Clearance wasn't listed.
Percy Weasley groaned. Throwing down his quill, he pushed himself back from his desk, stomped over to the door and threw it open. "Janice, I already sent the copy..." he trailed off. Ron and Ginny were standing at the door, looking confused. Percy just stared. He blinked. "Ron... Ginny," was all he could manage to say. For that moment, he had lost all of his composure. But then, as realization dawned on him, it snapped back. "Would you like to come in?" he asked cordially, backing away from the door, the haughty tone back in place. Ron and Ginny filed in. Percy closed the door gently behind them and made his way back to his desk. "Sit," he gestured, the one burgundy armchair becoming two. Ginny did, but Ron didn't.
"What the hell is going on, Percy?" Ron asked, his forcefulness coming out more whiny then he'd like. Percy's eyebrows furrowed behind the massive horn-rimmed glasses. "Well, I was in the process of summarizing a report from Greece on their efforts to increase tourism revenue," he replied dryly, leaning back in his chair, hands pillowing his head. Ron's eyes narrowed. Percy smirked inwardly: Ron was too easy. He'd get him stomping out of the room in a heartbeat. "I must say I am surprised at your appearance in my office. I don't suppose it's too much to hope that you've abandoned your ridiculous pursuit of death by stupidity, is it?" Percy asked coldly. "After your incident in the Department of Mysteries, I would hope that you would have come by some common sense as to your association with Harry Potter," he added. Ooh, he thought to himself, that was nice. A pat on the back. Ron's face turned almost purple, but before he could open his mouth, the room echoed with the sound of a book hitting a table. Ginny's hand was still posed over the desk.
Percy picked up the leather bound notebook. He ran his hand over the beaten leather, turning the journal in his hand. He looked up at Ginny, who had fixed him with an inquisitive glare, and Ron, who was tightlipped and now only magenta. He opened the first page and saw the title of the journal. Blood rushed from his head.
"I particularly like the drawing on May 17th," Ginny voiced nonchalantly. Percy flipped open the book and looked at the May 17th page. He shut the book almost immediately and slammed it on the table. Ginny and Ron both jumped at the loud thump echoing in the glass room. Percy stood up, his face pale and devoid of any emotion other than anger. "Get out," he said, his voice deadly serious. Ron put his hand on the desk. "Percy, what is going on?" Ron said again, his voice calm. "Get out," Percy shouted, color beginning to come back into his face. "Percy, we just want to understand; we just want to help you," Ginny stood in her seat, her hands on the desk, pleading. Percy's eyes seem to spark behind his glasses.
The door shot open, revealing Cornelius Fudge. All the color in Percy's face drained again into his feet. Ron and Ginny turned around, surprise written on their faces. Nobody noticed Percy knock the diary into his wastepaper bin. "Yes, Minister?" Percy replied, his voice surprisingly normal. "I heard a raised voice, Mr. Weasley. Just keeping an eye on you." Fudge gave a pointed look at Percy, who looked down at his desk. He looked over at the other Weasleys, but said nothing before closing the door to the office.
Percy dropped into his seat and sighed heavily. A deep silence purveyed through the room, leaving it with an almost bone-chilling frost. "Percy..." Ginny started again, but her heart wasn't in it. He just shook his head. "Just go," Percy said, defeated. He leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. He pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why is Fudge checking up on you?" Ron shot out with a sudden burst of perceptiveness. Percy jolted from his attempt at calming down and looked at Ron surprisedly. He stared at Ron with confusion and suspicion in his eyes. Ron began to grow uncomfortable; Percy's look had turned into something else. Something piercing, as if he was solving something. And suddenly, Ron felt himself slipping away. A tall man with gold in his eyes flashed before him.
"Percy?" Ginny's voice broke through the room, ringing off of the glass. Percy looked down and realized his glasses were still in his hand- he hadn't been wearing them. He slipped them back on his face, taking a nervous breath. He stood up and went past Ron to the door. "Have a good afternoon," he said simply, quietly. Ron's eyes finally focused, dropping down to the ground before turning to see Percy at the door. "Come on, Gin," Ron said gruffly, hurriedly. Ginny looked up at him with surprise and confusion, but walked out of the door. Ron stopped at the doorframe and looked at Percy. He refused to look Ron in the eye. "You can't tell us, can you?" he asked, a whisper. Percy's eyes never left the floor as he shut the glass behind Ron. Percy turned around and leaned back against the door. He let himself slide down the opaque glass until he sat on the ground. He stayed there, head in his hands, for the better part of the afternoon.
Author's Note: Whew. A tough chapter to write. I've been a bit sidetracked- I got another grad check in the mail, so I went to the bookstore and picked up two Pratchett books: Monstrous Regiment and Masquerade. Haven't read the latter yet, but the former was fabulous. Couldn't put it down. But anyways... thanks to my lovely DB, silver mirror and cooldot. I know I haven't really answered anything yet, but things should be falling apart soon. All of you readers keep me going! ::glomp::