Step by Step

Percy hated Thursdays. Most people would like it because it was Friday eve, but bad things had always happened to him on Thursdays. The day his best friend had died in the First Wizarding War was a Thursday. In the woods, on a Thursday, was the day that he had first met Parkinson and had made the deal with him. More recently, he had walked out from his family on a Thursday.

And today was a Thursday. That was how he knew that the news Hermione had come to give him was bad. And, of course, the look on her face also clued him in.

She gave him a small, nervous smile. Behind her, the rest of his family looked like they were being led to their deaths.

He sighed. "What is it?"

Hermione froze. Then her smile widened a little. "You're very perceptive."

"I try to be," he commented dryly.

Silence. "It's just…. It's just that we… wanted to talk to you. About the Slytherins."

He raised an eyebrow. "They have names, you know."

She flushed.

Ron snarled, stepping forward to defend her. "How dare you, you great big…"

"Ron!" Hermione snapped. "Can't you at least try to behave?"

Fred frowned. "I don't see why. Percy deserves it."

She spun around. "Really? Well, if that's the case, then you can just leave right now. We don't need you here messing this up."

Percy smirked, a look not unlike one Draco Malfoy's. Molly wondered who had learned it from who. "How about you start by telling me what you want."

"We'd like to work with you. We want you to help us get over our prejudice and learn to be more open-minded and accepting."

"And who came up with this idea?" Percy was determined to get them to be honest with him.

"I did," Hermione said clearly. "And if this makes it worse, I'll take full responsibility."

"Interesting. Why?"

As she opened her mouth, he knew that she had spent a lot of time developing this. "Because prejudice is wrong, and it has led to so many terrible things. If Harry and Ron and I make a stand, the whole wizarding world will know, and maybe they will accept Slytherins for who they are."

Percy nodded. "Very well. How would you like to begin?"

Arthur was fascinated by the small device that Percy carried. Interestingly, it looked almost like a muggle phone. But he knew better than to ask Percy how it worked in the magical environment. His son had changed, and it was clear that he sided with the Slytherins – Draco, Blaise, and Pansy. Sadly enough, it seemed that his son was moving further and further away from him, and he didn't know this tall, serious man in front of him.

"Alright," Percy said. "Projectus."

A beam of light shone from the phone, creating a picture on the wall. There was an image on the wall, with Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Daphne, and Percy. They were laughing, sitting in a field of flowers. Of course, Hermione had come up with the idea of showing them pictures of Slytherins acting like normal people, having fun and laughing.

"At this point in time, we were in Scotland for the weekend, over the summer holidays. The girls wanted to have a picnic, so we got some sandwiches and sat in the meadows."

He swiped on the phone, and a video started playing.

Blaise was laughing. "Ok. So, future viewers, or future us, I suppose. Today's date is the 18 of August, 1996. Currently, we are sitting in some breathtaking fields, waiting for the sunset, because some people apparently like sitting in down for the whole afternoon, and dinner too." At this, he turned to mock glare at Pansy and Daphne.

Laughingly, Daphne continued, "As a result of this,"

Theo snorted. "Who says, 'as a result of this' when they're not writing a 20 inch paper?" He, too, was sprawled across the ground.

Daphne reached over and gave him a smart slap. She continued on as if nothing had happened. "We've decided to record this evening."

"It's not evening yet," Blaise called out.

"As you can see," Draco continued, "We're really bored."

"Not for much longer, we're not. So, who wants to come up with a suggestion?"

"We could play gobstones."

"I hate gobstones."

"Exploding snap."

"We're in a muggle village."

"Marbles."

"How do you play marbles on grass?"

"Well, why don't you suggest something?"

"20 questions."

"Too long. And boring."

"We should do something with exercise. After all, we're growing children, and we need it."

"I don't recall hearing anything about that."

"It's scientifically proven."

"Science can't prove anything, only predict with reasonable certainty."

"Stop being a know-it-all."

"What about tag?"

"Are you serious right now?"

"This isn't getting us anywhere."

"Well, I'd like to see you try to do better."

"Why don't we just talk about how stupid the Wizengamot is being right now."

"Really? We're on holiday and you want to talk about politics?"

"Well, of course. I mean, they're being idiots. Can't they see that those people are Death Eaters? They should get the kiss."

"Well, we can't exactly go up to them and tell them that."

"We can present evidence."

"Who would believe that? Besides, we have a reputation to uphold. We can't help muggle-borns if we're under suspicion ourselves."

"Well, we wouldn't have to help them if there were no Death Eaters to deal with."

"You know there are a lot of Death Eater sympathizers in the Ministry. We'd have to deal with them too. It's too risky."

"Since when does Percy Weasley care about risks? I mean, you did make that deal when you were nine, and then you kind of adopted a whole bunch of Slytherins, and then you joined a secret group without thinking about the consequences, and then you threw yourself in front of a bunch of people to save them, and then…"

"I think we get the idea, Pans."

"I hope you do."

"Minister Scrimgeour is very forceful. If he doesn't like you, he's not going to think twice about locking you up somewhere."

"Somewhere deep… dark… scary."

"Shut up, Blaise."

The Italian boy grinned.

"Why are we talking about this right now, anyway? Let's pretend that the biggest problems we have are that the hotel we're staying in doesn't have feather pillows."

"That's a bit hard to do."

"Why not? We do it every day in school. 'My father will hear about this.' 'Why did I wear this colour dress? It clashes with my hair.' 'How dare you in 4 rounded cups, it's supposed to be 4!'"

"That got dark."

"Yeah, well, we don't have to hide it here. What, am I not allowed to be bitter?"

"You can."

"So why don't you like it?"

"Because when you hole up all that bitterness inside, it's going to tear you apart sooner or later."

"I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of living a lie, all day, every day at school."

"I know."

That was all that needed to be said. They knew each other well enough to be able to comfort without words. Daphne quietly turned off the camera.

Percy turned off the projection and left the room before anyone could say anything.