The Ministry of Magic truly was an awful place to work at.

No one ever knew what they were doing – or what was going on until it had exploded in their faces.

There was nothing appealing about being in a roomful of people who were stressed because someone higher up had messed up and passed the work back down, despite prior warnings. There was nothing nice about running after people to get what you needed; never knowing which of those people would readily stab you in the back to decrease the opposition.

Order had been lost somewhere during the witch hunts, or so Percy was willing to believe with every passing moment. He had spent the last ten minutes being bombarded by messages from the Undersecretary and the Minister for meetings that would occur that very afternoon, while trying to keep the Desert Curse that had been unleashed by an intern in the research department from entering the cups of tea he was to deliver to the Minister's office in a few moments.

He watched a few more messages flutter to his desk as he escaped the area, twelve protection charms and one bubble charm later.

It wasn't the pay that kept him returning day after day, even though it wasn't too bad and more than he imagined a lot of his fellow Hogwarts classmates could hope to earn already. He had learned how to budget and live below his means while growing up.

Perhaps that had been part of the problem: they hadn't really needed to.

His father could have moved departments or taken higher positions. In the two years he had been at the Ministry, he had heard of the number of offers his father had turned down for the muggle trinkets he liked so much.

It was foolishness in Percy's opinion.

The muggle trinkets and toys could be a hobby for his spare time. Enchanting and disenchanting them did nothing to change the chaos that they lived in, nor did it do much to ease the financial burden that had hovered over the Weasley family for as long as Percy knew.

They wouldn't have needed so many hand-me-downs had his father really cared for their family.

They wouldn't have to bear the teasing and mocking he knew his younger brothers still went through because of their threadbare clothing that had been patched one too many times.

But the money wasn't what had attracted Percy to the Ministry.

It was the potential to change things.

There were opportunities no matter where he looked. A carefully placed comment to the right person meant that they would mull it over then present the idea as their own to the next person until the message was passed to the right person. A whispered conversation in an elevator with the right person in it, would mean a faster response.

It was tricky and required skills that Percy hadn't originally developed through his years in Gryffindor. It was a rather Slytherin ability, and Percy had learned to admire the Slytherins who seemed to perfect the art while in Hogwarts itself.

Percy was attracted to the latent power that clung to the brimming walls and chambers of the Ministry of Magic but wasn't entirely able to defend himself from the same machinations.

If he found the right moment, he could have the research department only able to look at spells without a counter after hours, when it wouldn't affect him.

If he found the right ear, he could talk himself into a rise in position and importance within the Ministry. A well-timed show of potential could have the same effect.

Both the wait and the chase were exhilarating.

As was knowing consequences of being too overt.


Written for Badass Lyrics Inspire Badass Fics [Tempting fate with the crisis that my vices will orchestrate; Percy Weasley]