Deconstruction

Chapter Two: The Wild Card

The air was cool as a light breeze whispered over her skin. It was early still just before sunrise. Her clothes felt light against her skin as she warmed her hands against her cup of morning coffee. Starbucks clones were everywhere these days and not too far from the hospital. She contemplated her plan of action against him. She had reread the file on him over and over again. It was the pictures she paid the most attention to. Nothing could prepare her for the world she was about to enter.

After finishing her cup of coffee, she got into her car and drove to the hospital. When she arrived at her office, she put on her white coat. She grabbed a fresh pad of paper and some pens along with a tape recorder. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the cell and saw a pair of orderlies waiting with Dr. McCoy. He gave her a rather stern look as she came up.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Dr. White as she tried to see whether or not the window panel was open.

"I saw the security tapes, Gwen," answered Dr. McCoy. "I saw you unlock his cell and go inside without authorization. You know the rules and procedures. You broke them all when you went into his cell."

Gwen opened her mouth and shut it again. "It was the only way I could get him to talk to me. After all the things you have done to him, it was the only way," she explained. "You pumped him up with drugs without even trying to figure out what his hallucinations were saying about him."

"I told you to pick another patient," warned Dr. McCoy.

"You didn't say that exactly," countered Dr. White. "Now, if you don't mind, I would like to speak with my patient." She handed him a piece of paper. His eyes narrowed as he finished reading it. "As you can see, I got Dr. Rinehart's approval to be his doctor. Not you."

"Bring him out," Dr. McCoy ordered the orderlies to unlock the door. "I don't think you're going to find out anything and bringing him out of his cell is dangerous."

"He won't hurt me," whispered Dr. White.

Dr. McCoy walked passed her and thrust the paper back into her hand. He whispered into her ear, "I hope for your sake that you're right." With that he proceed away from her. Dr. White didn't have time to react as they brought her patient out.

"Release him. Don't touch him," she ordered. "You have other things to do around here." The orderlies glanced at each other before they shrugged their shoulders and went off to continue their work. They left the door wide open and she stepped inside, and saw that he was still seated on his cot.

"Good morning, Doctor," he greeted, almost jovially. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."

"You heard everything that Dr. McCoy said."

"I'm crazy. Not deaf."

"Are you ready to go outside?" She pulled out a pair of thong slippers that she had in one of her deep pockets. "You'll need these if you do. I hope that they fit."

He straightened up and held out his hands to accept them. Just before she handed them over, she noticed that there was a writer's callous on his right middle finger, indicating that he was right handed just as she had suspected from analyzing his artwork. She noticed that his accent was not low class, but at the same time slightly different from the middle class people she knew from London. She could tell that he was educated and that he was studying her, too. He barely looked at her as he slipped on the slippers.

"I haven't seen the outside in a while," he whispered as he got to his feet, stretching to his full height. He towered over her by a head and a half. He looked over six feet tall with his thin body structure he could have resembled a scarecrow. However, he was too beautiful to be one, and he moved with unnerving grace. It was him who led her out of the cell and she already found herself at a disadvantage as she followed him. Unlike many of the patients, he didn't wear a bathrobe or even donned a sweater when he walked around.

Following him got to Dr. White immediately, she quickly caught up to his long gait. She looked around in alarm, half wishing that she hadn't sent the orderlies on their way. She stopped when she noticed that he had paused behind her, making her lead him. "You are scared of me, aren't you?" he asked. She turned to face him. "I can feel it. You hide it well from the others, but I can tell that you're scared of me."

"We have to trust each other, so yes, I am afraid of you," confessed the psychologist. "Why don't we get outside first?" Her answer seemed to have satisfied him because he took a step forward to catch up with her. They continued their long walk down the corridor and when they got to the door she let him open it. The air was even more chilled than before as he allowed her to step outside.

"Let's go to that table over there. There aren't a lot of people over there," suggested Dr. White. He agreed by going to the table ahead of her without saying anything he pulled out her chair. Dr. White accepted the seat he had offered her. "Did you have breakfast yet?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, placing his arms on the table. "Why don't we start? Go ahead and ask your questions."

"You've been to a psychologist before, haven't you?"

"Of course, I have. I've seen a lot of them here. That's what this place is about."

"No, I mean you've seen one before this place. Before you came here."

"This isn't a bad place. There are worse places. Places that you couldn't even begin to imagine."

"Show them to me," requested Dr. White as she tore a piece of paper from her pad from the very bottom. She handed him a pen. "Tell me about these places."

He started to draw a figure with the pen. "You see there is this place called Azkaban. It's a prison. A wizards' prison." His pen strokes became deeper, harder. "The guards aren't like the ones here, but it is a place that isn't very different from this one. In some ways. The guards are called Dementors. The only thing they know how to do is live off the misery of others by sucking every positive feeling a person can have. Azkaban is on an island. At least I think so, I've never been there myself, but I've seen the Dementors up close. They look like Death personified. The Grim Reaper. They have hoods that cover their heads. I've seen the face underneath. They suck souls. It's called the Dementor's Kiss."

"How do you live without a soul?"

"I'm not completely sure of that yet myself. But I saw the face of a Dementor." He turned the picture he had been drawing around and showed it to her. It was a horrific picture of a figure of a rotting skull with long fingers with the fleshing tearing off. Its mouth was opened wide and there weren't any eyes in the sockets. Dr. White repressed a shudder as she stared at it. "That doesn't answer my question. How do you live without a soul?"

He chuckled a little as he shook his head. "You think that a person's life is tied with a soul. That's where you're wrong, Dr. White. It's a common misconception among you people. The body lives on like a shell, but the person is gone. Think of it as an extreme lobotomy."

"Go on," she prompted.

"You know you can feel them lurking about sometimes. Have you ever had a chill go through you and be completely alone in a place that's supposed to be safe and familiar to you? Have you ever had a good feeling just disappear on you and wonder why you feel such despair all of a sudden? There some who can't shake that feeling no matter what they do. Not even all your potions can help them. It's a slow way to die. Some of them don't even wait for the Dementor to take their souls. They just kill themselves. Anything to stop that pain. That misery."

Dr. White swallowed as she asked him, "I've never seen them."

"You can't. People like you can't see them, but people like me can."

"You mean wizards can, but not normal people."

"That's another problem you people have. You may consider yourself normal, but you're really just different from me. Azkaban's Dementors left last year before the attack on the Ministry of Magic."

"The Ministry of Magic?" She wanted him to move on. She didn't want to hear anymore about the Dementors. An unnerving feeling of apprehension filled her as she pushed down the thoughts swarming in her. Thoughts that she didn't want to think about, emotions that she had to keep locked down.

He flipped over the sheet of paper and started to sketch something again, if he knew her apprehension, he didn't express anything towards her. "It's the seat of power in among the wizards of Great Britain. In other places where the government is sparse, they have covens. That's what the Americans have. They have covens. I used to work in the Ministry. I started there my first year out of Hogwarts. That's the school that the wizards of Great Britain send their children to be educated. Which one do you want to hear about first?"

"Which ever one you want me to hear first."

He put down the pen. Dr. White could see that it was the beginnings of another drawing. It was the picture of broken statues. He looked at her with hard eyes. "It doesn't matter what happened in Hogwarts. It only mattered what happened there." He ran his fingers over the picture. "That's where it really started."

Tonks had Percy's personnel file on her desk and went over it. It was pretty dull, nothing like any of the Auror personnel files. He really was a glorified paper pusher. Percy had a few things in his record that was of interest, but they were almost public knowledge. He had promotions and two inquiries.

The promotions occurred first with Crouch, then later with Fudge. The first inquiry happened after Crouch's disappearance, but Percy had been cleared after it was discovered that Crouch's son had killed him. While the second inquiry happened shortly after the incident at the end of the school year involving Harry Potter and other students, including Percy's two youngest siblings. Percy had been thrown to the wolves by the former Minister. He was left almost defenseless, but no one had counted on Percy's high intelligence and charisma. He was able to get out of it just the same.

Carefully, Tonks studied the transcripts from the last inquiry. Percy came off as humble, but not overly confident. Not at all the way that his siblings describe him. After the inquiry, Percy was shunted to a different office, but managed to retain his position under the minister. It was probably because at the time Percy gave no indication that he was going to betray Fudge. The moves that Percy had made briefly to his sudden disappearance were cold and calculating.

Over several months, Percy had kept quiet with his nose to the grindstone. It hadn't taken Fudge long to trust him because he was so willing to betray his family. Soon Percy found out a lot of information that Fudge didn't want anyone out of his inner circle to find out. Everything from bribes, to more sinister things, were revealed to Percy.

Tonks could almost appreciate the sheer Machiavellian actions that Percy carried out. He didn't just get Fudge arrested, Percy utterly destroyed the man in the process by discrediting him, and literally, exposing him to the world. Tonks looked at another file, one of her own making. It was all the articles about Fudge, even though the source of the articles was labeled as anonymous, everyone in the Ministry knew it was Percy. He had forwarded copies about the things that Fudge had done as Minister of Magic to all the major wizarding publications in the world. He didn't send a copy to the Daily Prophet, but sent one to The Quibbler. It became international knowledge in less than a day.

On the day that Fudge was arrested, Tonks had come in early to the offices. She was ordered to come with the other Aurors to the Minister's office. When she had arrived, she saw a group of Aurors arresting the Minister, while Percy stood by, watching everything. He didn't wear a look of satisfaction nor smugness. Rather Percy, looked on dispassionately as the Aurors restrained Fudge.

"You? How could you do this to me!" demanded Fudge as he struggled against a pair of Aurors. His eyes were wide and locked on Percy whose eyes held no emotion. "After all I've done for you. You betrayed me!"

Tonks glanced at Percy, expecting him to say something. To everyone's surprise, Percy merely turned on his heel and walked away without saying a word. "Percy! Percy! PERCY WEASLEY!" screamed Fudge.

Percy didn't turn around until he was on the lift. He took off his glasses when he got there, and looked at the disposed Minister. Suddenly, Fudge's eyes widened again, but shrank to normal size as if Percy had silently conveyed a message to him. Fudge's body went lax at the same time. Percy pressed the buttons at the lift and the doors closed.

That was the last time that Tonks ever saw Percy. She was the one who had found Percy's resignation on the desk of the Minister. It was the last piece of paper in the personnel file. Once again, she read it.

Dear Minister Fudge,

I regret to inform you that I must terminate my employment in the Ministry of Magic effective immediately. My reasons for my resignation will proceed this letter. My loyalties have been misaligned. I should have been loyal to the Ministry and its ideals, not to any individual. I have already paid for my folly. It is time for you to do the same.

Sincerely,

Percy Ignatius Weasley

The wording of the letter gave clear indication of Percy's intentions, but his reasons were unclear. It took several weeks after Voldemort's return was revealed to the general wizarding public before Percy took actions against the Minister. Maybe, he was waiting for the Minister to be ousted out of office by the public, but later only realized that it wasn't going to happen fast enough. Or did Percy plan to do it at that time. It was difficult to tell.

The most perplexing thing about the letter's wording was "I have already paid for my folly." Tonks didn't know what that could possibly mean. She rubbed her temples as she stared at the words and read them over and over again.

"I always thought he was verbose. That's what Bill led me to believe anyway," said Kingsley over her shoulder. "But this is a lot shorter than what I expected."

"Did you ever get to know him while he was here?" asked Tonks as she turned to him.

"Did you?" countered Kingsley. "The only reason why I noticed him at all was because he was Arthur's son. Other than that, I wouldn't have cared much."

"You didn't like him much?" Tonks smirked at him.

Kingsley shook his head. "He wasn't exactly very popular around here, not even with the younger ones. He was too pompous for his own good. Not that it wasn't a little warranted. Did you see his records from Hogwarts?"

Tonks flipped back to the beginning of the file and looked at Percy's resume. After a quick skim, she announced, "He had the qualifications to be an Auror. All of his grades were at N.E.W.T. level and he got the max number of O.W.L.s. Why did he decide to become a paper pusher?"

"Arthur said that he's very ambitious. Had his heart set on being the next Minister of Magic," answered Kingsley. "His family might be the place to start."

"I don't think Arthur would have asked me to look into it, if their family knew where he was. Or have a clue at least. I guess I could ask Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George if they've seen him, but didn't tell their father. I mean didn't Arthur and Percy have a falling out of sorts last year?"

"More than a year ago," corrected Kingsley and continued to explain. "You're not going to find the reason that in the file, but the cause of it was the Ministry. Percy chose to side against his family. He believed Fudge because he promoted him. Arthur told Percy that Fudge was only using him. And you can guess what happened next. You know what means to need to be young and independent."

"I'm not that much older than him, Kingsley," pointed out Tonks. "I can understand why he didn't side with his parents, but I can't understand why he'd just walk away. Why didn't anyone notice it sooner?"

"I can't really say. I guess we all held our breaths waiting for Percy's next move. I think Dumbledore expected him to join up with us," said Kingsley. "He was a wild card all along."

"It doesn't have his last known address listed," said Tonks, looking at the general information. "That's strange. I guess I'll have to start with his family then. I know I said I'd do it alone, but would you mind tracking down his flat?"

Kingsley nodded. "I'll see what I can do. Good luck interviewing the brothers. You might not have a chance to interview Ron and Ginny in time, but four out of six isn't bad." He went to his desk. "Besides, Arthur is my friend, too, Tonks. We'll find his son. It's only a matter of time." Closing the personnel file, Tonks mused about Kingsley's statement.

Yes, she agreed that they would find Arthur's son, but no one said anything about finding him alive.

The first session with her patient concluded, Dr. White escorted her patient back to his cell in silence. When she returned to her office, she opened the file on him to place the pictures he had draw along with the rest. She made one startling discovery: for the entire time that they were together, she hadn't taken any notes. Furious at herself, Dr. White pulled out her tape recorder. She should have brought it with her in the first place.

Sighing she turned it on. She stated the date and case number for official record and began, "Today was my first session with this patient who remains nameless for the record. I will therefore refer to him as the patient or Wizard. He looks like he is in late teens to early twenties, but his real age is unknown. It is unclear what mental disorder or disorders he suffers from. Judging by his left forearm, he has attempted to commit suicide once, which could possibly indicate depression. However, I have not been able to assess whether or not he has manic-depression or paranoid schizophrenia."

"Moreover, the patient has delusions. However, these are superficial at best. He doesn't speak about his own personal life at all, including his family and himself. There must be some sort of complex symbolism in the stories he creates, in the world that he speaks of. He relays that his world is not that different from this one, but one standard could substitute for another." Dr. White paused the tape recorder for a moment. Regret filled her. What kind of psychologist goes through an entire session without recording it in some way? She berated herself as she almost slammed the tape recorder on the desk.

A soft laugh came from her doorway. Looking up, Dr. White saw Dr. McCoy smirking at her. Suppressing a grimace, she plastered a grin on her face and kept her head from shaking from left to right. "What brings you to my office?" she asked pleasantly enough. She was going have to close that door eventually because Dr. McCoy kept coming in uninvited.

"I was wondering how the first session went with your patient," replied Dr. McCoy innocently enough. She narrowed her eyes at him. "From the sounds of it, you've got your work cut out for you."

"But you already knew that," countered Dr. White defensively. She was no miracle worker. There was no way she could fix her patient in a single session. She was hoping to avoid another conversation with Dr. McCoy anytime soon.

"I'm sure you'll do whatever you can," said Dr. McCoy smoothly with that he slipped away from her door. The moment he was long out of earshot, Dr. White got to her feet and marched up to the door to slam it shut. Once again she stopped herself from doing what she really wanted to do, by catching the door before it could make a loud bang. She ended up closing it with a soft click.

AN: I'm afraid there won't be much comic relief in this story. The only time that will happen is when Tonks is normally there. In fact, it seems very dark and it's meant to be like that. There is a mystery surrounding Percy. Normally, I would like to put in some internal dialogue or thoughts for more than one character. I think that the character that will have the internal dialogue will be Tonks. Percy won't have any for obvious reasons, and Dr. White at this time remains as sort of real observer of sorts. Part of this chapter was written at the airport, while waiting for my plane to San Francisco.

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This story belongs to me and cannot be posted anywhere else without my permission.