February 1997
The Ministry canteen was busy. Percy wouldn't generally take his lunch there, he preferred the muggle cafes and the odd stolen hour with Audrey.
Today, however, it was raining, and Audrey had told him she wouldn't be available for lunch all week. Rather than run the gauntlet of inclement weather with no impervious charm, Percy settled for the Ministry canteen. The food was passible, his salad lacked imagination but was at least fresh and crisp. The table in the corner he managed to snag was one of the last free ones, and he sat quietly, his back to the wall watching the crowd.
Three tables over, a witch and a wizard were having a heated fight no louder than a whisper. If the couple were trying to keep their relationship a secret the very public fight was possibly a mistake. Fingers were thrust and parried at the other, their food ignored and congealing on their plates. The cottage pie looked like it was worth missing out on as it cooled to grey lumps covered in anaemic potato.
"Mind if I join you?" A voice came from Percy's left startling him from his contemplation of the couple. Percy turned to see Edward Harrow, a wizard who had been in the house share with Percy, stood with his lunch tray balanced in his hands and a thick Ministry folder wedged under his arm.
Percy nodded. "Harrow, yes, of course. How have you been?"
"Well enough, I moved out a month after you as it happens. Can't say I really miss the old place." Harrow replied as he set his tray down and retrieved the file from the death grip his elbow had it under. The lunch tray was moved to one side to make way for its bulk on the table and once seated Harrow pulled a quill from his pocket. "Sorry," Harrow apologised. "Wilkins is an arse, and wants all the updates since the last meeting documented. He's had another brilliant idea. I swear if this weren't going before the Wizengamot next week I'd set it on fire. I've done more hours on this one dossier than any other. How's the Minister's office treating you? Don't usually see you in here."
"Long hours and more report reviews than is good for a wizard," Percy replied. "I usually leave for lunch, at least I see daylight once a day then." Percy stabbed some more of his salad as Harrow remembered his own food and took a bite of the limp sandwich. Percy considered as he chewed, reading upside down as best he could. "Is that the proposal for the adjustments for Auror budget increase under section 14?"
Harrows head popped up in surprise, nodding in answer to Percy's question.
"Then it's not going to the Wizengamot next week. It's been pushed back until the end of next month at the earliest. Sports and Games have got your spot. Proposals for bidding on the next Broom Race Championships."
"What?"
"It's true, the paperwork is on my desk. The Minister has, just this morning, rearranged the next six weeks of the Wizengamot's schedule. They will only be sitting four times in the next month."
"You're kidding! This is eight weeks of my life Weasley. You've got to be kidding. Wilkins has had meeting after Merlin be damned meeting. Adjustments, reviews, the lot. Next week was our slot! You're sure?"
"Yes," Percy replied. "I'll have the reworked schedule out at the end of the week as per usual, but I'm telling you, you're not on the docket for next week."
"Merlin! Why?"
Percy looked down and away unsure if he should say anything more. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone about the schedules until they were sent out, but Harrow had been decent when they had shared a house, and long nights for nothing was more than he'd wish on the man.
"Well," Harrow said in disgust not noticing Percy's hesitation. "At least I can make Friday's game after all. Puddlemere are playing. Michaels got tickets. Their Chasers are really starting to come good, you know."
Percy nodded. "Glad I could help."
"Oh, oh no! You said broom racing. Merlin's beard, Michaels is on that proposal. He's not ready for a slot next week. They haven't even sorted the location, never mind the funding. Look, Weasley, will you do me a favour and come with me? He won't believe I'm not pulling his leg otherwise and if he doesn't find out until Friday, then he won't make the game either."
"I can, but it will have to be later. I've got back to back with the Minister and the Department Heads from one till four."
"Yeah, that would be great, half a day isn't going to hurt. Thanks for that Weasley, I owe you one."
Percy waved it off. "Information flows two ways. The next time you're going to come crying for something, a little warning will be appreciated. It goes down better with Scrimgeour if he can have a tantrum behind closed doors first."
"Fair enough. You don't know why the schedule got rearranged do you?"
"Not the exact reason, but if someone were to ask me, I'd say that for being wealthy enough not to have work Mr Malfoy has very regular hours within the Ministry none the less."
"Malfoy, he did this?"
Percy shrugged. "I couldn't say."
Harrow cocked an eyebrow. "No, I suppose you couldn't. Bastard deserved more than two weeks locked up."
"Mr Malfoy's alibi was the Minister for Magic himself," Percy pointed out. "He has been proven innocent of all charges pertaining to the incident in the Department of Mysteries. I believe that he offers nothing more than advice to the Minister in an unofficial capacity."
Harrow snorted. "Sounds like hippogriff shit to me."
Percy smiled. "I always knew you were astute Harrow. I'll call by your office after four."
"Aye, we'll swing by Michaels and ruin his week. You free after work? The least I can do is buy you a drink."
Percy stood up from the table brushing down his robes and collecting up his tray. He nodded. "I appreciate it. Invite Michaels, I'll bring the latest notes on the proposal from the Minister. It might help him prepare."
"Thanks, Weasley."
Back at his desk Percy scanned over the new schedule once again then compared it to the one it had replaced. The budget for the Aurory training had been put back six weeks. The Department of Mysteries had requested funding for experimentation, though in what he didn't know. Either way that had been canned altogether. Regulation of Magical Creatures had been moved up by four months. Their proposal was a rehash of the social responsibility to provide free wolfsbane to registered Werewolves. That cropped up every two or three years. If they had been moved up by four months on extremely short notice, then someone wanted them to fail miserably. Perhaps badly enough that the proposal could be dismissed when it next came up without having to go through review. That would put werewolf rights back years.
Two other proposals that were first time through the Wizengamot had filled the last of the spaces on the new schedule. First time through was nearly always just so the Wizengamot could hear the case, suggest where the proposal was lacking and where lines had to be drawn. They wouldn't pass anything on a first time through, it was unheard of.
Percy flicked through his stack of reports looking for them. New licensing for imports on XX category ingredients. Which would cause a fuss with the apothecary's, but do no real harm. Not unless the new legislation could only be met by one or two suppliers instead of five or six. Then, of course, someone would start making money hand over fist which was probably the point. There was no real reason to add more legislation to category XX imports, the ICW had already set the standard and everyone adhered to it.
The final docket to go before the Wizengamot was something about portkey licensing and relaxing the law regarding creating portkeys for personal use. Percy weighed the idea and came to the conclusion that one could go either way, but it wasn't important enough to snag one of the now very limited slots.
A chime sounded from his desk, and Percy silenced it then began gathering his things together. He would consider the implications later. Right now, he had Departments Heads and a Minister for Magic to manage.
The meeting was arduous, and Percy was glad when it ended. His list of things to do was longer, and he was ready to call it quits for the day.
The Department Heads left the meeting in small groups, chatting, muttering and grumbling together depending on how they felt they had done in the meeting. The Minister was hot on their heels his coat already on.
"Good evening Minister," Percy called as the man crossed Percy office.
"Weasley." Was the abrupt reply followed by the door firmly shutting as the Minister made his escape. Percy snorted in dark humour at the hasty exit. Scrimgeour was under pressure to come up with something to show that the Death Eaters and Voldemort were being handled. The Minister was coming up empty-handed. It had turned the gruff man gruffer and their conversations from terse to monosyllabic.
Percy dropped his notes into his desk draw locking and warding the draw. He collected up his coat and bag swiping the slim file from the edge of his desk before dowsing the lights and leaving his office. He locked the door and made his way to the lift. Harrow was two floors away, and Percy didn't want to be late.
Harrow led Percy to Michaels' office. Percy stood unobtrusively while Harrow broke the news and stepped in to provide the necessary assurances that they were in earnest. Michaels was suitably distressed until Percy offered to look over the proposal with him using the notes that the Minister had already. Harrow also volunteered to help, and they adjourned to the Witch and Wand, the pub that the housemates in Percy's house share had frequented.
Settled in at a table, Michaels went over what he had already. Percy chipped in with what the Minister was expecting and what had gone before in previous successful and failed bid attempts. It was information he had pulled up before leaving his office. Two hours later the three men were feeling quite pleased with themselves for stymieing the attempt to make Michaels look underprepared.
"Thanks for this Weasley," Michaels said for the third or fourth time. "You've saved me a serious headache. Look, I don't know if you've got plans or not, but I can get another ticket to Friday's game if you fancy it? Just as a thank you."
Percy considered it. Harrow was good company, Michaels seemed friendly enough, and it had been a while since Percy had watched a professional Quidditch match. "Can I tell you tomorrow?"
"Gotta check with the missus, do you?" Michaels asked.
"Yes," Percy said. "She's been away for a week with work, and I'm not sure if she's back Friday or Saturday."
"Say no more. Let me know tomorrow, and I'll organise the ticket. A mate of mine at the ground can fix me up."
"That would be appreciated. I really should be getting off though. Let me know if you need any more help, and I can see what I can dig up." Percy said as he collected up his discarded coat.
"Nice one, thanks," Michaels raised his glass in salute followed by Harrow as Percy made his way out of the pub.
In the cold air, he took a breath and considered if he was sober enough to apparate. Deciding he was probably borderline he concentrated on his destination and twisted himself into nothing.
The landing was a stumble followed by barking his shin on the sofa. Collapsing into a heap onto the offending furniture rather than fight to remain upright, Percy considered if he was actually drunk or out of practice apparating after drinking.
Percy heaved himself to his feet toeing off his shoes and pulling off his coat. A swish of his wand and they floated over to the hall. A cleaning charm set to work on both to rid his coat of creases and polish his shoes to a high shine for the next day.
In his kitchen, Percy poured himself a glass of water and sipped it while squinting at the list of dates on the fridge. Audrey had taped it there, listing the days she would be away for. The list of dates included Friday. Percy felt a small frisson of excitement at the thought of the Quidditch match. Taking his drink, he returned to the sofa and dug around in the pile of papers on the coffee table for the latest copy of the Daily Prophet. He had a basket for them with a Notice-Me-Not charm on so Audrey wouldn't find them, but as he had been alone for the week, they had remained folded on the coffee table when he had finished with them. Percy flicked to the back section and settled down to refresh his memory on the current lineup of Puddlemere United and their opponents on Friday.
The Quidditch match was fast and furious. Percy found himself welcomed and wanted within the magical world for the first time in what seemed a long time. Percy thoroughly enjoyed himself and in an act of daring he would not have suspected of himself, smuggled bottled muggle beer into the stadium. He had removed all the labels, and the innocuous brown bottles had raised eyebrows until the caps came off. Then keen appreciation replaced scepticism, and Percy once more found himself toasted as the hero of the hour. After the match, he had joined Michaels, Harrow and more of their friends in a post-match analysis that lasted into the early hours. Happy, tired, and drunker than he had been in a long time Percy stumbled from Harrow's house, where they had all ended up, to find a taxi to take him home. He sat in the back of the dark car watching the street lights flash overhead and realised the weight he had carried had lifted. He might not have friends but he had been accepted, and it felt good.
Percy spent the weekend after the match with Audrey and thought no more of what he had done, further than the offhand promise he had made to help Michaels with more information if he could. When he returned to work on Monday, he set a small charm upon his blotter to highlight folders and information that might be of use and carried on with his day.
Percy had connections in some departments, he could hardly work for the Ministry as long as he did without doing so. But the shadow of the Crouch incident, the estrangement with his family and the fact that he worked for the Minister himself had set Percy apart. He had not known how to breach the invisible barrier between him and the other aides, secretary's and department workers that would allow him to build a network.
One favour, done with no more thought than to save an ex-housemate a few late nights caused ripples.
By Tuesday Heather Thompson was at his door requesting five minutes of his time. Cautiously she laid out the problem she had been having. Heather was supposed to be drawing up the proposal for the latest project for the Department of Improper Use. She was hitting a brick wall in getting the information she needed from the Department of Accidents and Catastrophises, and she'd heard Percy might be able to help her get what she needed.
Percy was puzzled until Heather mentioned that Michaels had told her that Percy had helped him with his proposal. Understanding dawned, Percy offered to take a look at the plan and send over anything he thought might help. Heather smiled brightly dropping the folder she had been clutching tightly on his desk with profusions of thanks and promises of favours owed. Percy picked the file up and skimmed over the first page. Absently he found a fresh sheet of paper and started making notes.
It was the beginning of a small network of favours owed and collected amongst his peer group in the Ministry. Percy found that Michaels and Harrow had put the word out he was willing to help for reasonable favours. The Muggle beer Percy had taken to the Quidditch match had become the stuff of legends thanks to Harrow and Michaels, enabling Percy to buy information he needed with bottled beer with their muggle labels stripped off.
Percy wasn't kidding himself. He knew that by building a network within the Ministry, he was stepping down the same path that Lucius Malfoy travelled. It wasn't much of a justification that he was trying to help the people that Lucius Malfoy and his power mongering were screwing over. It became a small personal crusade for Percy to hinder whatever Malfoy was up to. In that, he supposed he was following his family's footsteps in relation to the other man. He wouldn't stop though. Malfoy was visiting the Minister, the Wizengamot was dancing to the tune that Malfoy 'suggested'. Every proposal that was aimed at bettering and improving society was quashed, or pushed back, or brought forward so abruptly the proper research couldn't possibly be done. It never touched Lucius, his hands were clean. The Minister set the schedule, and the appropriate departments made their cases. If they failed to make their cases successfully, it looked like they had underprepared, not that they had been thrown under the hippogriff with no warning.
If Percy could help, then he would do so. If only to wipe the smug grin off the face of the man that crossed in front of his desk three days a week.