Percy swung the bat with hysterical strength, putting his back into it and laying into Malfoy with a vicious satisfaction. The first blow was to the back, but the second and third blows to the head should have proven fatal, magical resiliency or not, but it seemed that Voldemort must have equipped his slaves with protections, as his blows simply stunned without even drawing blood.
Panting with exertion and a little disappointed that Malfoy still breathed, Percy shook with the adrenaline rush as he leaped over the sticking charm, emerging into the hallway to peer cautiously over the edge of the landing, seeing only the deserted hall below.
Relieved at the dearth of witnesses, Percy hesitated, stifling his urge to simply finish the Death Eater where he lay and flee, but he knew that way lead to Azkaban. In his father's stories of dealing with the aftermath of wizard on muggle situations, one oft-repeated phrase came to mind. 'No body, no crime.'
It was Arthur's unenviable job to find the bodies. Inconvenient muggles had been routinely vanished by dark wizards since the invention of the spell, but permanently vanishing or a permanent transfiguration of the body of a wizard was almost impossible. Percy knew that he would have to follow the plan or almost certainly be traced by forensic spells and caught. Laboriously releasing the sticking charm that he'd cast with Flint's wand, he rolled the Dark Lord's slave onto his back and then stole his moneybag.
It was a standard Gringotts security bag, but attached to a vault, unlike his own that just held money. Percy took the opportunity to manipulate the man's limp hands and fingers to open the bag and get around the security enchantment. He pinched the Death Eater's fingers together on the bottom of the bag, upended it into his own merely expanded bag and thought 'everything.'
It took longer for the gold to pour in than was reasonable, and Percy was both amused by the fact that what he was doing was technically not a crime and worried at his added vulnerability to discovery.
When his mother had taken him to Gringotts for the bag, the goblin Rakeswell had read from a script thoroughly explaining exactly how such bags worked, emphasizing that that the bank didn't guarantee the security of any monies withdrawn from a vault by such bags, nor did they monitor the details of bag transactions as there was no way to confirm conflicting stories.
Percy's own limit was whatever he put in the bag as he had no account attached, but Malfoy, the arrogant fool, had obviously set a ridiculously high limit on his bag and tied it to a vault. It was doubly not a crime because the slave that called itself Malfoy was technically less than a muggle, with no rights beyond that of livestock. Only Voldemort had the legal standing to bring suit.
Once the Death Eater's 'fine' was transferred and his bag stowed away, Percy found a belt sheath and helped himself to a goblin-forged dagger. It was just the thing for cutting Malfoy's belt to take the spatially expanded and disillusioned sheath off. Sliding the sheath onto his own belt, Percy stuffed the empty moneybag into a pocket along with Malfoy's broken wand. Magical items had to be destroyed by fire, as vanishing them was impossible.
Percy used the dagger again and cut off the man's cloak and shirt. Finding a finely tooled and embossed custom wrist holster on the man's left arm, complete with a second unbroken wand, Percy tried to unstrap the holster and failed. Summon-proof and spatially expanded, it was of great value and Percy reluctantly used the goblin dagger to cut through the enchanted leather, ruining it.
As soon as the holster was off of the man's arm the wand slid free. Percy examined it, unsurprised by the ostentation of the carving. It had been made from a wood that Percy couldn't identify, very light, smooth grained and identical in color to the man's hair. The handle was checked for a good grip, with the Malfoy arms carved in a raised ring around the base, almost like a hilt. The wand had to be completely custom, something that Olivander famously refused to do. Malfoy must have purchased it somewhere on the continent and it must have cost hundreds of galleons, given the difficulty in maintaining the magical viability of a wand while altering it by carving a family crest.
Percy reflexively waved the wand and was shocked when a bright rain of red, green and blue sparkles shot from the end. It seemed impossible but this fancy wand had just chosen him as its wielder, unlike the sullen relic that he had carried throughout his Hogwarts career.
After a long second of gawking, Percy wrenched his mind back to the matter at hand, disillusioning himself with the marvelous new wand just in case a witness happened along. He was surprised by the effortless ease with which it worked for him, especially after his struggle with Flint's awful old stick. This new wand seemed to retain absolutely no loyalty toward its former master, reacting as if brand new.
Wondering if the wand's complacency had anything to do with the fact that Malfoy didn't technically own it, as slaves technically owned nothing, Percy continued to hurriedly divest Malfoy of all he had. The dagger easily cut the enchanted chain that held a pair of keys around Malfoy's neck, but they just sparked and vanished like an unstable conjuration.
Shrugging, he skinned off the rest of Malfoy's clothing. Pulling off the finely tooled boots, he found a push-dagger and some potions vials in an expanded pocket. Pocketing them, along with the ruined wand holster, he carefully examined everything that was left. Astonishingly the sword within the walking stick was a purely mundane blade and so the whole thing went into the bundle to be vanished.
Percy was not surprised when the 'Malfoy' ring turned out to be completely fake, coming off with none of the resistance that one would expect from the enchantments of even a brand-new house ring. It made sense though. The Malfoy were a French merchant family, wealthy but barely a century old and prominent only because of their recent connection to the House of Black. Even a new ring would take deep offense at being handled by a slave. Percy threw the fake ring into the pile and frowned at how easy it was to swindle one's way to a sort of 'respectability.' It seemed that all it took was enough ready galleons.
Rolling everything non-magical up in the cloak, Percy vanished the bundle, leaving the heavily concussed Malfoy sprawled naked upon the landing, the ugly dark mark prominent on his arm in all of its foulness.
The Dark Mark caused a surge of hatred to well up and Percy had to restrain himself from casting a cutting curse. Contenting himself with a stunner from Flint's wand, he wondered at what could have motivated the Malfoy Heir to allow such an obviously malevolent slave mark.
Percy sheathed the goblin dagger and then took the ornately carved wand in hand, slowly and carefully transfiguring Malfoy into a red rubber ball, surprised at how quickly it went. It could be the wand, or perhaps slaves were magically less resilient than real wizards, but it seemed easy.
Pocketing the ball, Percy froze for a moment as the stairs promptly moved into place, just as if Hogwarts were his co-conspirer. Marveling, he grabbed up the transfigured beater's bat, retrieved his mirror and then used Flint's wand to sanitize the scene, removing all traces of his presence. After a final check, he moved down the stairs, scourgifying as he went.
He moved fast once he was off of the stair, running to another and then to a special window on the unused side of the castle.
Stopping before a narrow window over a bench seat set within in a cozy alcove, Percy opened the seat. Reaching into the stone hollow beneath, a space that had probably been meant for blankets, he extracted an 'xtra-safe' nylon fire escape ladder, 'guaranteed to 1750 kg,' a decidedly muggle artifact illegally enchanted by his brother Bill years ago.
Setting its hooks on the window's stone lintel where they magically stuck, he opened the narrow glass window and squeezed through the magically flexible slit, threw the rolled up rungs out and clambered to the ground, handily avoiding the alarm spells that kept students from leaving the castle at night.
Reaching the courtyard, Percy stood free and then gave the ladder a certain pattern of tugs, whereupon it promptly came unstuck, fell to the ground and rolled itself up for storage. Marveling at Bill's power and skill even as a Hogwarts student, Percy tucked the ladder into a cunningly hidden stone box, the lid of which was disguised as a flagstone. He made his way around to the outer wall and passed through a small postern gate. This small door in the larger fortification had been charmed to register as closed and locked when it was in fact easy to open with the right pattern of taps, a pattern known only to Bill, Charley and now Percy.
Swallowing dryly, he jogged towards the broom shed, considering the mechanics of killing Malfoy. It was only the memory of his father's voice stating, 'no body, no crime,' that kept Percy going. Hearing real voices, he instantly threw himself off the path, wiggling behind a shrub just in time to avoid meeting the Minister and two aurors coming rapidly up the walk. He lay with his heart pounding until the Minister's obnoxious complaints had faded completely away.
Springing back to his feet and marveling at his luck, he dashed the rest of the way to the broom shed. Walking around to the back, Percy found and set an artfully disguised pole-ladder against the wall, climbing up to push at a weathered board near the roofline. He smiled as it clicked in and then swung smoothly upward on hinges after a hidden spring loaded catch gave way.
Percy had never used it before, but Charley had bought the parts at an ironmonger's and built the hidden hatch in order to gain access to a school broom for potions-material raids in the Forbidden Forest. Both of his older brothers had made a good deal of money that way during their school careers, financing their apprenticeships through their enterprise, power and stealth. Neither of his older brothers were weak wizards, but Charley was cunning as a goblin when he had cause.
Reaching in, Percy felt around and extracted the nearest school broom. Unsurprisingly it was one of the better ones, stored high by the older students to keep the careless little snotties from getting their grubby mitts on it.
Closing the hatch and fading back from the building, he cast a weak sticking charm and attached the rubber ball to the broom handle so that Malfoy wouldn't get lost in the dark. Re-applying his disillusionment charm, Percy felt his magic beginning to flag from the sustained exertion. Breathing deeply, he flew toward the forest, keeping behind cover so as not to be silhouetted against the lighter sky should someone be looking from the castle.
Only rising above the looming treetops once he was out of sight of the castle lights, Percy raised the wand, grateful that it was so easy to use. He would have had to land and rest if using his old wand. "Point Me Aragog."
Ron had told him of the spiders and the improbable rescue by their father's car. Knowing Hagrid's mad persistence on such matters, Percy had believed him about the acromantula colony. It was another mark against Dumbledore in his mind. He was a fool to keep the thoughtless half-giant and his deadly collection of 'pets' around vulnerable children. Hagrid might mean well, but that wouldn't bring anyone back once eaten.
Ten minutes of flight brought Percy to the foothills along the back side of the Forbidden Forest, where the spell indicated his quarry lay. Dreading the prospect of learning firsthand just how high a spider could jump, Percy climbed until he was well above an obviously artificial clearing.
Hovering, he listened carefully, hearing the unmistakable sounds of activity below. Large creatures were moving and there was a clicking sound, perhaps that of pinchers. The ball suddenly shuddered, vibrating the broomstick and signaling that the transfiguration was already failing. Malfoy was coming around, fighting it.
Mustering his courage, Percy gripped the broomstick and swallowed. He wanted the spiders good and riled, but above all they must be aware that the Dark Lord's slave was there. If he just dropped the ball from on high, it might bounce and roll down the hill into the brush somewhere from which Malfoy could somehow make a successful escape.
Percy couldn't just wait for the transfiguration to end and drop the slave from a great height either, because he needed to be able to raise his wand and swear truthfully on his magic the usual oath, that he hadn't 'killed Malfoy through any action of his.' It was imperative to any legal defense that he might need to create that the creatures be the ones to 'take care' of the intruder.
The ball began to expand and Percy unenthusiastically whooped to get their attention, gingerly diving for the spider-infested ground and watching with shuddering horror for rising eight-legged forms.
Sensing the first obstacle more than seeing it, Percy checked his modest velocity, dodged a web and finally released the writhing and rapidly expanding sphere from his broom to drop the last ten feet before he pulled up on the stick, shooting away as the nervous spiders first ran hissing from the looming airborne threat and then wheeled to attack the intruder that had landed in their sacred place.
As he pulled up, moonlight broke through the clouds and Percy glimpsed a virtual tide of the horrid forms swarming into the clearing. Did Dumbledore have any idea that there could be so many?
He heard a groan and then a shriek of pure terror, abruptly cut off. Then he heard only the susurration of the spiders communicating.
Pouring on the speed and blinking back tears, Percy tried not to dwell on what he had done. He could raise his wand and swear on his magic that he had never killed a wizard and certainly not a Malfoy. Hew would amplify this statement by explaining that his magic would have been taken as per the treaty had he done so. He could also swear on his magic that he had not knowingly arranged for Malfoy or any wizard to be murdered, as slaves were technically nameless and killing one was legally vandalism.
For all of this clever dissembling he still felt a murderer. Landing near the broom shed, Percy couldn't help vomiting, a few tears falling into the mess. It had been a dire, cruel and horrible act deliberately committed, but he remembered Ginny's pinched, terrified little girl face as well as Malfoy's willingness to cast an unforgivable at the young Potter.
Taking a deep breath, Percy closed his eyes, pulling himself together. He could regret the necessity later, but now he had to finish the plan. Swallowing, scourgifying the vomit away and casting the tooth cleaning charm, Percy told himself that his ancestors would approve his action and that Malfoy's last flight had been justice, a counterstrike for a strike, spiders for a basilisk. The fool had brought it upon himself when he'd made himself into property. Staggering with exhaustion, Percy replaced the broom, carefully closing and resetting the latch so that there was no sign of its existence.
He had to rest before reentering the castle, even if it risked the disillusionment charm running out. Tiredly, Percy threw the muggle escape ladder's hooks toward the window where the enchantment guided it to rise and stick securely on the lintel. Moving slowly, he climbed up, put away the ladder and then sat in the alcove for a time, resting his head against the cool stone and thinking about what else needed to be done.
There was no need to use magic to find Finnegan. The young wretch was in the old necromancy classroom, confident that the authorities were too distracted to hunt him down. The surprisingly numerous drinkers of the school, mostly sixth and seventh year students, had a sort of drinking club where they often congregated under a strict inter-house truce.
Percy couldn't fathom why a young student would wish to gain a drunkard's reputation, but he had retrieved the stupid boy without exposing the existence of the club once before and he would do so again tonight. If his story slipped and he was pressed hard to account for his movements, he would use it as a red herring, 'crumble' and expose the existence of the drinking club, hopefully satisfying a determined sleuth with lesser prey.
A tired Percy felt the disillusionment charm wearing off as he approached the classroom. Slipping through the door, he crept up behind Finnegan, who had a beer bottle in hand and was quite drunk. Clapping his palm down over the little fool's shoulder, he shouted, "Finnegan!"
"WAHAy-yeeee! Jaysus!" Seamus stumbled, spilling beer all over himself. Twisting out of the classic 'you're nicked' position in order to scowl at his prefect, he shouted, "Just celebratin' the good news then, wasn't I? Have ye nothing better to do?"
"No," Percy intoned with arctic cold, contempt washing over him at the child's foolish smile. Angrily ho grabbed the culprit's collar in a bunch. "I told you not to come back here, Finnegan. Your mother didn't send you to Hogwarts so that you could become a drunkard at thirteen. You should be ashamed of yourself! Now you'll come with me." He could now truthfully state that he'd searched for Finnegan, leaving the time spent doing so undefined.
"Aw, Jaysus." Finnegan looked stricken, tearing up at the mention of his mother.
"There's no need to involve the staff. No one wants him here and if I can talk to the gryfs about it then I'm sure that we can find a way to banish him for good." Albert Danvers, a Slytherin, frowned at Finnegan. He'd wanted to put the annoying brat out the minute that he'd seen him, but he didn't need to get sideways with Gryffindor in this last agonizing stretch over a dimwitted little paddy that had fallen into a hole in the rules. Unfortunately Finnegan had been the only lion partaking this evening or they would have dealt with him themselves.
Percy sighed as if reluctant. "No, I'll deal with him. Next time just turn him or any other Gryf under fifth year straight out. If anyone objects let me know and I'll square things." Percy waved the suggestion of reporting the room off. The room served a purpose and was a fine place to make contacts in other houses. "If anyone peaches it'll be him."
"Thanks, Weasley. I'm glad to hear that your sister is well. This place is a madhouse and little girls have no place in blood politics." Danvers was brooding over his future. His father, rotting in Azkaban, should have gotten death. His mother had been exposed as having a muggle father and been murdered, probably by his father or perhaps one of his fellows doing him a 'favor.'
The worthless bigots of the Ministry, probably thinking they were doing a half-blood a disservice, had dumped him on his Aunt Gladys, his mother's half-sister and a squib lucky enough not to be murdered. She was living happily muggle, married to his Uncle Henry, an electrical engineer and the single most intelligent person that he knew.
Percy was a little touched. Danvers' father was a well-known Death Eater, but he had always kept to himself. "Thank you, Danvers, I do appreciate the sentiment. Now, Seamus, come along."
Danvers glared. "Finnegan, you'll not say a word if you know what's good for you."
"I wouldn't! I wouldn't!" A genuinely frightened Finnegan protested as Percy dragged him out. Danvers was large, magically powerful and very Slytherin.
After ridding himself of the buffoon, Percy returned to the empty common room and stood by the fire, concealing what he was doing from the portraits with his body.
Moving carefully, he threw first the broken wand, moneybag and then the charmed belt and wand holster into the fire. The broken wand and belt burned immediately, then the wand holster succumbed, but he grew anxious as the bag sat in the flames`, seemingly impervious. Just as he lifted the poker to pull it back out, it suddenly crumbled, the magic at last overwhelmed.
Percy slumped with relief that no one had come down as he stirred and then vanished the ashes. Burning the bag had been a risk, but it was potentially traceable through anti-theft charms. If the Goblins had noted Malfoy's death through their self-updating ledgers and immediately decided to conduct the ritual to find the bag, then they could provide evidence. It was very unlikely that they would ever say anything, but he wasn't taking chances.
"Point Me Professor McGonagall." As usual she was ignoring her 'head of house' duties, probably closeted with Fudge and Dumbledore, the whole useless lot conspiring to sweep all evidence of their latest bout of gross incompetence under the rug. Thinking about where he could hide the rest of Malfoy's things in case of a search, he headed back out.