January 2, 1996
I walked into work with a hat pulled low over my eyes, doing my level best to not look anyone in the eyes. My vague memories of the New Years Eve bender I went on played on repeat through my mind. What I could not remember was filled by my overactive imagination.
These were not comforting images.
It was mostly a repeat of me slurring about pretty red hair. Who says a man's hair is pretty? Why did I say that!?
I've dreaded looking Percy in the face for twenty-four hours.
There was hesitation at the doors of the elevator until I was pushed on with the surging crowd.
It's not like we could go on a date. Dating a coworker never ends well. Plus, I'm the office secretary, I answer to Eddie, the Minister and Percy, who is often just acting as a proxy for the Minister. It was not official, but it was a gray area and neither Percy or I did gray areas. He's too much of a policy wonk and I was not going to pull a Vanessa.
Wait, was that him?
I pressed myself against the wall before I realized that that was Mr. Weasley from that muggle department, I could not remember what exactly it was called. These names were so long and convoluted and I did not deal with it enough to actually remember it in any case.
I did not need that heart attack. That may have taken a year off my life.
I lost sight of Mr. Weasley when more people crowded on and off the elevator as it climbed each floor. Mr. Weasley stepped off with a friendly word to a wizard from one of the Law Enforcement offices.
It was a long ride to the Minister's office, my stomach flipped and turned like it was a boat in a raging storm. When the doors opened I braced myself for the awkward encounter. I prepared a series of lies and excuses to try and preserve my dignity.
Mainly that I was very, very drunk and therefore would deny everything.
That was not me, it was my twin.
I stepped in front of the door to the Minister Support Staff office with a quiet dread brewing in my stomach.
Oh god.
It was time. I opened the door.
Only to be met with a low roar of noise from Eddie.
"Oh thank Merlin you're here!"
He was surrounded by papers, newspapers, official documentation and a general flurry of things that I could not recognize. It was like he was literally trying to drown in paperwork. I risked a peek over at Percy's desk and noticed it was empty.
"Percy's out with a disease! I had to chase him out of here fifteen minutes ago. It was gross! Please help me!"
"Coming!"
"Pick the important headlines for the Minister, I'll start the rest of this."
"Yessir!"
When I finally saw Percy on Monday the following week he was able to work, and said nothing about our social encounter or my drunken proclamations. Granted, he was so congested that I wouldn't have understood him anyway.
He did tell me that he fixed Oliver's foot with a proud, smug grin when I left for home. Like I had done something to this Oliver person who I had no recollection of meeting.
What did I do to Oliver?
Oo0Oo0
January 5, 1996
Lucinda examined the newspaper carefully with a guarded expression while I pinned white tacks to a map of Europe where Lucinda's retired friends lived.
Why did so many old people want to live on the beach?
"Charles White is prancing around a… nudist colony somewhere in the south of France. He says it's warm there. Bloody libertine."
I nodded and added him to a list of people to double check the addresses of.
I doubted Alex was wandering among a nudist colony full of old people. Wherever he was I hoped he was wearing pants at least. Please be wearing pants.
"Jennifer and her husband Devin are somewhere in Italy. Their daughter is working somewhere in Siberia with the Drumstrang graduate husband of hers. They're studying weather patterns and indigenous magi communities."
I put two more white tacks on the map in the appropriate locations.
"Ah, here's a letter from the Ministry."
I almost put a tack through my finger.
"What does it say?"
Lucinda opened the ivory envelope with her elegant owl shaped letter opener, it reminded me of the Greek goddess Athena, a bit like Lucinda was a modern version of sorts, slightly out of her own time and holding onto tradition with the zeal of a military commander.
"Dear Madam Ainsley,"
Very courteous. I wondered what the criteria was to be called madam. It was a very elegant term.
"We, the Ministry Committee of Public Issues and Fundraising, henceforth referred to as MCPIF. Would like to inform you that your Thornell has been selected for hosting in autumn of this year-"
"Autumn?" I took my eyes off the map, an eyebrow raised. "I thought you were famous for your gardens?"
"We are. People have been trying to poach Tavish from Thornell for years. The man's a genius." Lucinda explained as she skimmed the rest of the letter. "Who wrote this? Ah. Matilda Porter. I know her from school. Useless twat."
I giggled at the uncharacteristically blunt insult.
"She's never liked me. If she's handling the fundraising schedule then we're gonna have to show off our spectacular natural landscape, hedges and not a lot of flowers. Tavish has some plans for autumn events, but he's going to have to pull out all of the stops for this." She made a tsk noise from between her teeth. "She's trying to embarrass me."
"Well, I can help."
Lucinda smiled. "I thought you might. Barry and I can handle the inside of the house, I'll need your opinions, but Tavish needs an assistant more than I do for this." Lucinda reread the letter. "I'm going to have a word with Elizabeth, see if she knows anybody who could come assist Tavish while you're at work. Maybe an apprentice gardener from her Apothecary group. We can do this, but it's going to be difficult."
Oo0Oo0
January 6, 1996
I stopped in front of the shop window, looking at the display of beautiful books of both fiction and nonfiction. Annette liked nonfiction, biographies, true crime and the like. She was a very weird eleven year old.
Magical zoologists remained uncertain as to how a social climber and a politician managed to create such an oddity.
I had an urge to get a book and a few other things for her as a late Christmas gift. I had no reason to be angry with Annette, I was angry with my father, I was angry with Vanessa, but Annette was just a casualty of the crossfire.
"Audrey, get a load of this!"
Annette held up a book full of tales of murder and ritual magic sites to attempt to revive the a dead woman through human sacrifice with a toothy smile.
"Annette! Isolt's panties!"
Annette laughed, her long dirty blonde hair flying around her in a wild halo. "This is the story grandpa tells all the time, right?"
"Yes, but-" You are a nine year old girl, where the hell did this interest come from? "Where did you find that?"
"Dad's office! He's got all the cool stuff in there!"
I had never been in Jack's office without permission. It was full of breakables and family heirlooms along with his private library of political books, and clearly his collection of true crime. Maybe my suspicion of Annette being the favorite was not unfounded.
"Have you been sneaking in there?"
"Yeah," she flopped down on my bed, spread eagle on her back. "I was bored and he's never home anyway. Wha'cha doin'?"
"Essay for Mr. Yost about concealment charms."
Annette sat up quickly, her expression no longer bored. "Can you teach me?"
"Save that for school."
"Please, Audrey!" She leapt off the bed and grabbed my upper arm, her eyes begging and a slightly pouty lip. "You know you're my favorite sister right?"
"I'm your only sister."
"Details, details. Favorite sibling then!"
"What about Aldridge?"
Annette made a face. "He looks like a potato. And he smells."
Aldridge smelled like a clean baby, but I could see the disgust from a child's point of view. When Annette was born I thought she bore an uncanny resemblance to a naked mole rat.
"And he peed on mom."
Yes. Twice. The first time was a memory I held close to my heart whenever I needed a laugh. Vanessa's screams of 'It's in my mouth!' soothed me like a lullaby. I felt laughter bubble in my chest before I collected myself.
"I'd try Annette, but my wand is picky and if it blows up in your hand, I'll never hear the end of it from your mother."
"Isn't she your mom, too?"
My hand froze over the paper, my shoulders tense and the rest of my body ready to spring out of the chair to flee like a wild animal.
"We're half siblings, same father, different mothers."
"Oh, I just thought mom was… you know. Old."
"Don't say that to her!"
I stepped into the store and asked about two decorated, leather bound journals, and a book of old magic rituals by a famous dark sorcerer from France. After wincing a bit over the price, I stepped back out into the cold with all of the items tucked in a bag under my arm.
Annette was a ghoul, but she was my only sister. She didn't deserve to feel unloved by me. She was not someone I was angry with.
It would take time to send the package internationally and I did not want to run the risk of it being delivered to the Byrgen House over Christmas dinner. If I sent it tomorrow after work, she would for sure be back at Ilvermorny by the time it got to her. Then she could do as she wanted with it and not have to appease her parents. It seemed a kinder option.
As for the journal I had bought for myself, something that Tavish said to me rattled around in my head with warmth and praise. I was on an adventure of some sort, and perhaps I should take notes and write things down to offer clarity to myself when it was beyond my reach.
I used to journal. I had ideas for novels and won a short story contest when I was in my first year at Ilvermorny. The comparisons to Alex came quickly, and writing seemed to be Alex's thing. Being an insecure child, I wanted to be good at something that was just mine where I wouldn't be compared to Alex. After he left home, I stopped writing and journaling. I was too angry and sad about the matter to explore things I enjoyed and I fell out of what habits I had managed to create.
Alex had no imagination. He was a researcher and a cauldron stirrer. Perhaps I could carve my own niche doing something a bit different. It would take time to find that spark again, but I knew it was still in there.
I staggered out into the street with the wrapped package under my arm, the London air was brisk and speared through me like icy teeth.
Maybe I should get something for Alex? Just in case.
I stepped into a quill and parchment shop with a wooden floor that moaned and creaked with each step from the small groups of people who wandered about looking for nice quills. After looking around for a moment, I found myself wandering towards a collection of beautiful inks in blues, reds and one in a stunning violet.
I didn't think ink bottles would survive the trip to the United States, Annette would have to get her own at the school store. Ilvermorny was insistent the students only use black, blue or cranberry inks.
I picked up a deep violet ink and held it up to the light to examine the color. Pretty! I think that could come home with me!
There were some beautiful quills nearby from gyrfalcons. I examined them carefully before putting them with the ink for purchase. I needed a nice quill, even if I found I no longer had it in me to write the way I did as a child. I could use it at work.
It was a quick trip to the counter and a few exchanged pleasantries with the woman at the counter who double wrapped my new ink bottle and gift wrapped on of the quills for me.
"That's perfect! Thank you." I turned to leave only to be met with an old woman looked at me inquisitively before breaking into a playful smile.
"Oh, you're the yankee they hired to replace me." She stated it firmly as if she already knew. "Bethany from Transportation keeps me up to date on the ministry gossip. She likes your accent."
I knew who this was.
Irene was a round old woman with snow colored hair and glimmering green eyes that reminded me of a cat. She had an intricate wooden cane and a mischievous grin, her glasses were thick and magnified her eyes dramatically.
I stuck out my hand, "It's nice to meet you, Ma'am. I've heard a lot about you."
"Oh, none of it good I hope?"
"Ah…!"
"Excellent. Good women are never remembered by history, glad I managed to kick up a fuss before I left." She seemed very proud of herself.
"Oh, I can see the point."
"Smart girl. I can see why they haven't eaten you alive yet."
"Was it that bad up there when you left?"
Irene rolled her eyes and motioned me towards door of the shop, leading me out into the street towards the corner of the quill shop. She leaned on her cane and gave me a wry smile as I adjusted my hat against the cold wind. "I never liked that job. Too political. Lots of arse kissing. You have to be a yes man to get anything done or get anything on the floor."
I nodded, I could agree with the idea. That was politics no matter where a person was in the world. It was oddly comforting.
"Fudge wanted to use the boy, and I told him exactly what I thought about that. I told him that it was very unusual to hire a personal assistant who's not quite twenty, that's a job for someone you want to personally groom for a high position down the road, usually a clerk with more work experience around twenty-two or twenty five. I know he functionally ran International Cooperation for a year, but that was very sketchy."
My head tilted inquisitively.
"So, you told Fudge what you thought about the matter."
"Indeed. Weasley had an inquiry and everything, poor thing. How was he supposed to know Crouch had lost his mind? He probably thought it was normal. Hell, we all thought Crouch was ill for months. Weasley's got an inflated sense of self, which probably saved him from being completely crushed by the inquiry. Ego is the saving grace and great folly for young, stupid boys trying to make their way in the world."
I think that was something that could apply to young people of both sexes, but I nodded in agreement. Some of Percy's better traits were really overshadowed by the pompousness of his general demeanor. He was generally fairly pleasant with me, more so after that… incident at the pub that I would never think of again after this moment.
Irene continued, clearly having bottled up a lot of thoughts on office politics. "Cornelius is a fool, Percy Weasley has the job experience, and he'll grow into the job, but the decision was purely political. Cornelius does not like to be called out on his attempts to plot and scheme. I paid the price for doing it."
"Wait, I heard you had a fight with Percy?"
Irene grinned. "What did you hear?"
"That he had a roaring fight with you, and that you called him an infant and walked off the job!"
Irene broke into a deep belly laugh, complete with snorting and breathless gasps for air as she leaned on her cane for support.
It took her a minute to collect herself. "That's mostly correct. Percy was throwing his weight around and I managed to get him out the door for a few minutes on an errand so I could talk to Cornelius. I told Fudge that I had been doing that job longer than that boy had been alive and that I wasn't going to put up with some infant trying to boss me around and I was quitting immediately. Percy heard that last bit along with one of the clerks who came up to run an errand, I guess they met at the lift, which I guess is how that story got around the Ministry. I would never say that to his face, I have manners."
"Oh."
"Honestly, as pretentious and full of himself as Weasley is, it was really the icing on the cake on my retirement. Umbridge had been trying to drive me out of the job for years, she wanted a young thing who wouldn't question her, I think. I couldn't handle both of them anyway."
"How bad was she? I don't hear much about her."
"Pray you never do. She's a beauracratic hell-spawn. She acts sugar sweet and grandmotherly, but don't fall for it. Policy is everything, rising through the ranks at any cost is all she cares about." Irene lowered her voice. "If you're lucky, that Defense Against the Dark Arts curse will put an end to her career. If it doesn't, you'll get to find out for yourself what kind of lunatic she is."
From what I was hearing about this Umbridge woman, I hoped I never met her.
"I'm sorry you felt like you had to quit your job. I know you were there for a long time."
Irene laughed, "Don't feel sorry for me. I believe in Harry Potter. My days were numbered anyway. Best I left on my own terms while raking Cornelius over the coals."
That was the first time I had ever heard someone say that they believed Potter's account. Lucinda and Tavish we're very neutral on the matter as they did not want either side to be right. My coworkers openly disbelieved along with a number of people from other departments. Elizabeth and I had discussed the matter, she said it was all politics and she never wanted to be involved with that in any case.
As for myself… Well, I didn't feel convinced of anything. Potter believed what he was saying, everyone else believed that dead was dead. Everyone has their own version of reality and somewhere in-between two stories is the truth.
"My granddaughter goes to Hogwarts. She says Umbridge mutilates her students during detention, and somehow that did not surprise me."
"I'm sorry? She mutilates the students!"
Irene put a finger to my lips at my outburst. "Yes, I said that now keep it down!"
"That needs to go to law enforcement! Or the School Board! Both!"
"She's got connections and we used to hang misbehaving students by their thumbs in the dungeon. They won't do a thing."
"Gondolphues' grave!"
Irene nodded while I collected my thoughts in a flurry of whispered thoughts and comments that she seemed to agree with.
"Audrey, if you want to ask any questions about the Ministry, Beth will be happy to answer them. Should Umbridge make it out of Hogwarts alive, tell me everything. I'm out in Devon and my home is called the Stormrock Shack.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll definitely do that."
And with that, Irene gave me a smile, one full of pride in finding a potential new informate and hobbled back out into the snow covered streets. Irene had ulterior motives, I understood this, one did not grow up with political influence without knowing when other people looked for it or exercised it.
Was this why I liked Percy? He was a yes man who took anything told to him at face value, he couldn't see ulterior motives and had enough brains to be useful without playing politics, as much as he thought he was playing political games in some capacity. In his mind, Fudge's word was as good as law.
He would never look below the surface of what people told him. Maybe I liked that kind of naïvety that I had never possessed.
Or I just felt safe in that Percy would never piece together my relations with the American politician who was leading the polls.
The next six months were going to be long.
Oo0Oo0
January 15, 1996
Walking into work on Monday was the equivalent of being hit in the face with a bat.
"Any comment on the Azkaban escapes, Minister?"
"How will the Ministry find these escaped convicts?"
"Is the public in danger?"
The support staff office was full of reporters and Aurors who were surrounding the Minister of Magic, shouting questions or keeping people at a respectable distance as they took notes and assaulted the Minister for comment. I moved over towards Percy's desk where he was taking notes and looking worried.
"What's going on?" My voice was low as I kept my eyes on the reporters and listened to Fudge's responses to these questions. His tone full of confidence as he praised the talented Aurors who were already on the case.
"Mass breakout from Azkaban," Percy's voice was low, his attention on the notes he was taking for what would be a formal statement to the public for the evening paper. "Ten Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban somehow and now they're on the run. Don't worry, we'll catch them and their accomplice."
"Accomplice?"
"Sirius Black."
"The mass murderer?"
Percy nodded and motioned me away so he could focus on his notes and drafts as the group of reporters around the Minister grew more insistent about the security measures of Azkaban, past, present and future.
I was starting to think things were taking a seriously black turn.
Oo0Oo0
Author's Note: Five chapters left in this section everyone. Then we move into Half-Blood Prince territory where I have a little more freedom to poke, prod and torture and some of this build up will pay off. I'll wrap up this section and take a hiatus to fix and draft but we'll talk about that later.
