Chapter Six : Truths
"Does it ever get easier?"
Gene Avery glances at Percy Weasley before focusing his attention back towards the grounds, which are covered with dried mud or blood. "Never. You think it would, but you come in here every day just to see that nothing has changed from the night before. It's sickening, that's what it is. To see what the Death Eaters, people like us, do to these prisoners. Finding someone strung up on a pillar, disembowelled and dead. Or worse, still alive. And knowing that maybe it was Malfoy, or Nott. Or maybe even Dolohov or Rookwood. But no matter who it was, there's nothing you can do about it because this is the behaviour that Lucius Malfoy accepts and maybe even expects."
Percy doesn't reply; he doesn't know what words he should even use. They walk among a small troop of Death Eaters in a nervous silence, both staring towards the ground. Around them, prisoners wrapped in heavy cloaks or shawls warm themselves from the nippy February air before the flickering flames in rusty oil drums. Their faces are chiselled stone--emotionless, dreary and old; they've aged rapidly due to stress and fear, and all hope has been lost in these few months. Many of the families now stay together, not straying far from their assigned buildings; the only thing they now have in this desolate existence is each other.
"You know what they need?" Avery breaks the silence after what seems like hours. "A boost in morale. I've considered arranging a Quidditch game, one like old times with the four Hogwarts houses rivalling. I know it's not much, but I do know a few blokes who'd be ecstatic to fly again." He glances over at Percy and is greeted by a euphoric look spreading across Percy's usually pallid face. For the first time that week, his mind is on something besides his family.
"I believe you may be right, Gene."
Avery smiles broadly, pleased with himself. He may be the head of the Alpha Camp, but praise is something he is not used to. He's the only Death Eater in the area with a golden heart; it's not something the guards below respect him for.
"Leave it to me. I'll owl Malfoy tonight, and arrange to have the game in four months time." Percy's mind automatically wanders to three blokes who'd be perfect as the captains of Gryffindor, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw. He doesn't even worry about convincing Lucius Malfoy of their plans; the idea of a Quidditch game would be appealing to him, and to nearly every ex-Quidditch player in the sector.
Avery nods cheerfully before excusing himself, along with a small faction of guards, to continue on the piles of paperwork awaiting him in his office. A few of the Death Eaters glance up at Percy as he strays from the group, but there are none who really care. On either side of Percy are rows of prisoners, but none he can recognise, so he keeps wandering the streets with his head bowed and hands in his pockets. He walks like that for some time, his hearing serving as the only window into the outside world, until someone yanks his attention back to reality.
"Oi! Weasley! It's not recommended to be wandering off on your lonesome."
Percy groans, rubbing his temples with his thumb and middle finger, warding off the headache Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey will surely bring. "Your concern is uncalled for. I wish to be on my own." Percy's voice is lifeless. He turns to leave, his shoulders slouched, not caring to deal with the two tossers who take great and sadistic satisfaction in annoying him.
"Cheer up, Weasley! You're acting as though all this chaos and destruction isn't riveting!" Marcus breathes in deeply, savouring the smell and taste of blood and dust in the refreshing air. His hair is a tangled black mess, and his robes are stained with blood, muck, and sweat. It's been nearly a week since they've been on guard duty, and Percy doubts Marcus has showered at all. Percy's attitude towards Marcus as the rank troll has only been reinforced.
Beside him, Adrian smirks. But, unlike Marcus, personal hygiene is something he prides himself in. His robes are crisp and new, and fasten tightly at the neck. Both Slytherins enclose Percy.
"I don't get off on that, as you probably do," Percy snaps. He glances around for a way out, but finds none. People dressed in tattered robes pass them quickly; the streets are rather crowded with passing inmates who fear to be near the Death Eaters.
"You mean you don't return to your bitch in the evening filled with a sense of exhilaration that you can only get from the fact that here, you are power? You are the devastating force which all prisoners fear, and even a few of the women. It's why you became a Death Eater, after all."
A look of pure disgust creeps over Percy's face, and Adrian's smirk falters. "Unlike you, I do not take satisfaction in others' misery." He turns to leave, but finds himself not moving from that spot. Before Percy realises what's going on, he's being dragged by the Slytherins, one pulling on each arm. "What do you think you are doing!?" Percy struggles against Marcus and Adrian, but to no avail. Marcus, with his brawny physique, is much larger than the Gryffindor.
"We decided not to put off the inevitable!" Adrian laughs, leading Percy unknowingly to the Weasleys' living area, Building Theta. Around them, people stop to gawk, but they quickly carry on with their business after Marcus shoots them warning glances.
All colour drains from Percy. "You wouldn't dare!" He glares furiously at Adrian, eyes aflame with hatred. He knows that he has something on Pucey, something that he would never want Marcus to find out.
"Oh?" Marcus snorts.
But Adrian stops short and releases Percy. "Marcus, maybe we shouldn't?" But he never notices that they have successfully dragged Percy close to Building Theta, and that the fiery red hair and Death Eater robes will not be overlooked.
"Get your fucking balls outta the jar you keep them in, Pucey!" Marcus barks, shoving Percy forward and shooting a glare at Adrian. "What the fuck do you have to be scared of? Not like this little wanker has anything on you." He raises an eyebrow to Adrian, crossing his arms.
"What? No. No! It's . . . just . . ."
"It's just you've grown a fucking conscience? Fuck, Pucey, you're a disgrace!"
Adrian remains silent, staring Marcus squarely in the eyes.
"Just sod off! I have better things I could be doing than arguing with you . . . you women!" Marcus exhales sharply, nostril flaring as he sneers inwardly at the two. He furiously stalks away, not caring that the stares of the fellow Death Eaters and prisoners are burning into him.
"At least you haven't sacrificed your intelligence," Percy replies.
Adrian growls, "I'm only looking out for myself. You think I don't know what would happen to me, or even Rae, if Marcus found out? I'm not a prat. I know Marcus will kill me and pound on her. I was a fool to fall in love with the bint, and even more of a fool when I let Flint take her from me in our seventh year. But, what Flint will never know is that, in the end, I still got her." He diverts his attention to the ground.
Percy frowns and considers placing a comforting hand on Adrian's shoulder, but he decides against it. He and Adrian are still considered to be mortal rivals. No little emotion from either side could ever change that. No matter how human Percy may think it is, he would never treat Pucey as a friend. "It's none of my business who you love, Pucey. But you should have never let me find out about Landon. Because if you ever try to pull another stunt like that, I will tell Flint."
Adrian eyes Percy up and down before placing his hands back into his pockets. He shrugs and doesn't reply as he walks off in the same direction as Flint, leaving Percy alone to reconsider his choice on the Slytherin captain of the Quidditch team, and knowing fully that this day can only get worse from this point on.
* * *
When Charlie Weasley's eyes meet with Percy's, his mouth drops open, and there is nothing he can do about his other siblings following his gaze. The sight of Percy as a Death Eater is not something shocking to the eldest Weasley son, for during the battle which determined the victor, Charlie had personally seen his younger brother clad in those infamous robes, performing a spell not even Charlie thought Percy could have mastered.
Oliver Wood, who has been spending most of his time with the Weasleys, is the only one gawking with a smile plastered across his face, and eyes blinking incredulously. He leaps from where he's seated, which is between the twins, only to crush Percy in a tight hug, while the Weasleys look on with a mixture of pure hatred and astonishment. Fred drags George to his feet, and they stand next to Charlie, just staring. They're not too sure what else they should be doing. George coldly turns to leave, but Fred grabs him by the wrist, pulling him back.
"Oi! Oliver, I can't breathe!"
Oliver unwillingly releases Percy. "Avery, that bloody tosser, told me you were dead!" He places his hands warmly on Percy's shoulders, his deep brown eyes sparkling at the thought that one of his best mates, no matter what robes he wears, is alive.
Percy flushes a deep shade of crimson, avoiding eye contact with his family. "Yeah, I didn't think that a reunion would be this . . . well, I never thought you'd be this happy to see me."
But that happiness is not contagious.
The others stand around, not knowing how to react. They could be ecstatic, as Oliver, or suspicious, as Fred and George. Here stands their brother, Hogwarts Head Boy and former Ministry employee, dressed in Death Eater robes. Avada Kedavra was performed from his wand, killing people that they can only imagine.
Ron approaches rapidly, storming from the building where he has observed the exchange. His arms are crossed, and he has a stony expression across his face. It's extremely difficult to find the words to describe how he's feeling at the sight of a Weasley in Death Eater robes. "Bloody hell! You. have. some. fucking. nerve! You're a Weasley--how can you wear those robes! How dare you, Percy? How fucking dare you!"
Ron's fists convulse with suppressed rage that he has never felt before, not even for someone like Draco Malfoy. "You fought with them! With those who conspired to imprison us in these internment camps, those who killed our parents and Harry!" Ron, who is nearly the same height as Percy but more muscular, violently grabs him at the collar of his crisp robes, heaving him towards the cement.
Percy is not surprised and certainly not aggravated as he lands severely on his arse with his hands scrapping against the gravel. He keeps his gaze downwards, staring in the general direction of Oliver Wood and the other Weasleys, who have rushed forward a few steps to be next to Ron.
"Get up!" Ron shrieks.
By now, a small crowd has gathered, consisting of prisoners and a few scattered Death Eaters who want to see blood, particularly the Weasley killed by his own kind. All remain silent, knowing that at any moment a brawl between them could break out, as well. That is something that should be avoided at all costs, as the Death Eaters would slaughter any of those involved.
"Get up and fight, you fucking coward!" He clenches his fists, digging his nails into his palms, dripping blood from the cracks between his fingers.
Percy finally looks up, calmly stating, "I'm not going to fight you."
"Why not? You must have enjoyed it before, being a Death Eater! You helped kill our friends! Our mum and dad! And you have the nerve to show up here? Whaddya expect, that we'd be overjoyed to see you? That we'd be thankful you were at least alive? You should have died valiantly like Harry instead of slithering away like a fucking lowly Slytherin!" Ron makes an attempt to pounce on Percy, but he finds himself being jerked back as Charlie grabs the hood of his robes.
"Ron! Behave yourself! I'm sure Percy betrayed us for good reasons."
The crowd, upon seeing that there'd be no bloodshed, irritably departed.
"There's no such thing as a good reason to join the Death Eaters."
"Stay out of this, Fred."
"Why? He's our brother too!"
Charlie extends his hand, dragging Percy, who thanks him quietly, to his feet. "It's good to see you, Perce, although circumstances could have been better. Don't mind those prats, they have yet to understand that blood is thicker than water." He turns to Ron, arms around Percy's shoulder. "If I had reacted this way when I saw our brother clad in those robes, I would have killed him then and there. But I didn't. Because he's our brother."
Ron's mouth drops open. "You knew! You knew all along and you never told us!"
Before Charlie can even think of replying, Ron has stormed off. The twins, not caring to talk to their brother, have also headed to the inside of the building they are forced to call home.
Percy glances around, accounting for all Weasleys except the youngest. "Where's Ginny?" There's a slight panic to his voice that Charlie smiles at. He does still care for them, although they fought on opposite sides of the war.
"She went for a walk this morning with Hermione. It's a good thing too."
"Good thing?" Percy snaps. "What is that supposed to mean?" He seats himself on the drab stairs, cold to the touch, and grey. Everything in the camps seems to be grey: the buildings, the grounds, some of the prisoners, and even the sky on days such as this one. Grey to match the emotions of those who were once valiant and pure.
"For her to see you like this . . ."
"As a Death Eater?"
"You betrayed us!"
Percy glares at Charlie. "You don't even know the half of it!"
"Believe me, I do Percy. But I'm not going to thank you for what you sold your soul for. I know everything comes at a price, but you must ask yourself if it was all worth it." Charlie surveys Percy with a solemn look, frowning.
Percy is shocked by Charlie's words, but he doesn't bother to delve deeper into their meaning.
"Listen, Perce, you are still my brother. Nothing can ever change that." And before Percy has the chance to respond, Charlie leaves the two old mates alone.
Oliver frowns as his eyes meet Percy's. "I suppose you shouldn't have expected them to be as happy to see you as I was."
"Oliver, I thought they were going to kill me. I never wanted to come here. Bloody hell, I wouldn't have if it wasn't for Flint and Pucey." Percy shrugs, and they begin walking along the lines in a futile attempt to stay warm.
Oliver curls his lip in disgust at the name Flint. Back in Hogwarts, they were rivals on the Pitch as well as in the halls. "Don't tell me you're mates with those two." And he's thankful that Percy hastily shakes his head. "So, why'd you do it? Join with them, of all people, I mean."
"For a chance at power?" Percy shrugs, knowing that power wasn't all of it. He wanted greatness. "I've asked myself that question a million times, but I was never able to find the answer. It wasn't until I talked to a higher-up that I finally realised why I'm here." He pauses, rubbing his hands together for a source of heat before placing them back into his pockets. "I'm here to save them, my family. Lucius was going to slaughter them, but then… something changed."
"Like?"
Percy smiles. "That's not important."
"Does it ever get easier?"
Gene Avery glances at Percy Weasley before focusing his attention back towards the grounds, which are covered with dried mud or blood. "Never. You think it would, but you come in here every day just to see that nothing has changed from the night before. It's sickening, that's what it is. To see what the Death Eaters, people like us, do to these prisoners. Finding someone strung up on a pillar, disembowelled and dead. Or worse, still alive. And knowing that maybe it was Malfoy, or Nott. Or maybe even Dolohov or Rookwood. But no matter who it was, there's nothing you can do about it because this is the behaviour that Lucius Malfoy accepts and maybe even expects."
Percy doesn't reply; he doesn't know what words he should even use. They walk among a small troop of Death Eaters in a nervous silence, both staring towards the ground. Around them, prisoners wrapped in heavy cloaks or shawls warm themselves from the nippy February air before the flickering flames in rusty oil drums. Their faces are chiselled stone--emotionless, dreary and old; they've aged rapidly due to stress and fear, and all hope has been lost in these few months. Many of the families now stay together, not straying far from their assigned buildings; the only thing they now have in this desolate existence is each other.
"You know what they need?" Avery breaks the silence after what seems like hours. "A boost in morale. I've considered arranging a Quidditch game, one like old times with the four Hogwarts houses rivalling. I know it's not much, but I do know a few blokes who'd be ecstatic to fly again." He glances over at Percy and is greeted by a euphoric look spreading across Percy's usually pallid face. For the first time that week, his mind is on something besides his family.
"I believe you may be right, Gene."
Avery smiles broadly, pleased with himself. He may be the head of the Alpha Camp, but praise is something he is not used to. He's the only Death Eater in the area with a golden heart; it's not something the guards below respect him for.
"Leave it to me. I'll owl Malfoy tonight, and arrange to have the game in four months time." Percy's mind automatically wanders to three blokes who'd be perfect as the captains of Gryffindor, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw. He doesn't even worry about convincing Lucius Malfoy of their plans; the idea of a Quidditch game would be appealing to him, and to nearly every ex-Quidditch player in the sector.
Avery nods cheerfully before excusing himself, along with a small faction of guards, to continue on the piles of paperwork awaiting him in his office. A few of the Death Eaters glance up at Percy as he strays from the group, but there are none who really care. On either side of Percy are rows of prisoners, but none he can recognise, so he keeps wandering the streets with his head bowed and hands in his pockets. He walks like that for some time, his hearing serving as the only window into the outside world, until someone yanks his attention back to reality.
"Oi! Weasley! It's not recommended to be wandering off on your lonesome."
Percy groans, rubbing his temples with his thumb and middle finger, warding off the headache Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey will surely bring. "Your concern is uncalled for. I wish to be on my own." Percy's voice is lifeless. He turns to leave, his shoulders slouched, not caring to deal with the two tossers who take great and sadistic satisfaction in annoying him.
"Cheer up, Weasley! You're acting as though all this chaos and destruction isn't riveting!" Marcus breathes in deeply, savouring the smell and taste of blood and dust in the refreshing air. His hair is a tangled black mess, and his robes are stained with blood, muck, and sweat. It's been nearly a week since they've been on guard duty, and Percy doubts Marcus has showered at all. Percy's attitude towards Marcus as the rank troll has only been reinforced.
Beside him, Adrian smirks. But, unlike Marcus, personal hygiene is something he prides himself in. His robes are crisp and new, and fasten tightly at the neck. Both Slytherins enclose Percy.
"I don't get off on that, as you probably do," Percy snaps. He glances around for a way out, but finds none. People dressed in tattered robes pass them quickly; the streets are rather crowded with passing inmates who fear to be near the Death Eaters.
"You mean you don't return to your bitch in the evening filled with a sense of exhilaration that you can only get from the fact that here, you are power? You are the devastating force which all prisoners fear, and even a few of the women. It's why you became a Death Eater, after all."
A look of pure disgust creeps over Percy's face, and Adrian's smirk falters. "Unlike you, I do not take satisfaction in others' misery." He turns to leave, but finds himself not moving from that spot. Before Percy realises what's going on, he's being dragged by the Slytherins, one pulling on each arm. "What do you think you are doing!?" Percy struggles against Marcus and Adrian, but to no avail. Marcus, with his brawny physique, is much larger than the Gryffindor.
"We decided not to put off the inevitable!" Adrian laughs, leading Percy unknowingly to the Weasleys' living area, Building Theta. Around them, people stop to gawk, but they quickly carry on with their business after Marcus shoots them warning glances.
All colour drains from Percy. "You wouldn't dare!" He glares furiously at Adrian, eyes aflame with hatred. He knows that he has something on Pucey, something that he would never want Marcus to find out.
"Oh?" Marcus snorts.
But Adrian stops short and releases Percy. "Marcus, maybe we shouldn't?" But he never notices that they have successfully dragged Percy close to Building Theta, and that the fiery red hair and Death Eater robes will not be overlooked.
"Get your fucking balls outta the jar you keep them in, Pucey!" Marcus barks, shoving Percy forward and shooting a glare at Adrian. "What the fuck do you have to be scared of? Not like this little wanker has anything on you." He raises an eyebrow to Adrian, crossing his arms.
"What? No. No! It's . . . just . . ."
"It's just you've grown a fucking conscience? Fuck, Pucey, you're a disgrace!"
Adrian remains silent, staring Marcus squarely in the eyes.
"Just sod off! I have better things I could be doing than arguing with you . . . you women!" Marcus exhales sharply, nostril flaring as he sneers inwardly at the two. He furiously stalks away, not caring that the stares of the fellow Death Eaters and prisoners are burning into him.
"At least you haven't sacrificed your intelligence," Percy replies.
Adrian growls, "I'm only looking out for myself. You think I don't know what would happen to me, or even Rae, if Marcus found out? I'm not a prat. I know Marcus will kill me and pound on her. I was a fool to fall in love with the bint, and even more of a fool when I let Flint take her from me in our seventh year. But, what Flint will never know is that, in the end, I still got her." He diverts his attention to the ground.
Percy frowns and considers placing a comforting hand on Adrian's shoulder, but he decides against it. He and Adrian are still considered to be mortal rivals. No little emotion from either side could ever change that. No matter how human Percy may think it is, he would never treat Pucey as a friend. "It's none of my business who you love, Pucey. But you should have never let me find out about Landon. Because if you ever try to pull another stunt like that, I will tell Flint."
Adrian eyes Percy up and down before placing his hands back into his pockets. He shrugs and doesn't reply as he walks off in the same direction as Flint, leaving Percy alone to reconsider his choice on the Slytherin captain of the Quidditch team, and knowing fully that this day can only get worse from this point on.
* * *
When Charlie Weasley's eyes meet with Percy's, his mouth drops open, and there is nothing he can do about his other siblings following his gaze. The sight of Percy as a Death Eater is not something shocking to the eldest Weasley son, for during the battle which determined the victor, Charlie had personally seen his younger brother clad in those infamous robes, performing a spell not even Charlie thought Percy could have mastered.
Oliver Wood, who has been spending most of his time with the Weasleys, is the only one gawking with a smile plastered across his face, and eyes blinking incredulously. He leaps from where he's seated, which is between the twins, only to crush Percy in a tight hug, while the Weasleys look on with a mixture of pure hatred and astonishment. Fred drags George to his feet, and they stand next to Charlie, just staring. They're not too sure what else they should be doing. George coldly turns to leave, but Fred grabs him by the wrist, pulling him back.
"Oi! Oliver, I can't breathe!"
Oliver unwillingly releases Percy. "Avery, that bloody tosser, told me you were dead!" He places his hands warmly on Percy's shoulders, his deep brown eyes sparkling at the thought that one of his best mates, no matter what robes he wears, is alive.
Percy flushes a deep shade of crimson, avoiding eye contact with his family. "Yeah, I didn't think that a reunion would be this . . . well, I never thought you'd be this happy to see me."
But that happiness is not contagious.
The others stand around, not knowing how to react. They could be ecstatic, as Oliver, or suspicious, as Fred and George. Here stands their brother, Hogwarts Head Boy and former Ministry employee, dressed in Death Eater robes. Avada Kedavra was performed from his wand, killing people that they can only imagine.
Ron approaches rapidly, storming from the building where he has observed the exchange. His arms are crossed, and he has a stony expression across his face. It's extremely difficult to find the words to describe how he's feeling at the sight of a Weasley in Death Eater robes. "Bloody hell! You. have. some. fucking. nerve! You're a Weasley--how can you wear those robes! How dare you, Percy? How fucking dare you!"
Ron's fists convulse with suppressed rage that he has never felt before, not even for someone like Draco Malfoy. "You fought with them! With those who conspired to imprison us in these internment camps, those who killed our parents and Harry!" Ron, who is nearly the same height as Percy but more muscular, violently grabs him at the collar of his crisp robes, heaving him towards the cement.
Percy is not surprised and certainly not aggravated as he lands severely on his arse with his hands scrapping against the gravel. He keeps his gaze downwards, staring in the general direction of Oliver Wood and the other Weasleys, who have rushed forward a few steps to be next to Ron.
"Get up!" Ron shrieks.
By now, a small crowd has gathered, consisting of prisoners and a few scattered Death Eaters who want to see blood, particularly the Weasley killed by his own kind. All remain silent, knowing that at any moment a brawl between them could break out, as well. That is something that should be avoided at all costs, as the Death Eaters would slaughter any of those involved.
"Get up and fight, you fucking coward!" He clenches his fists, digging his nails into his palms, dripping blood from the cracks between his fingers.
Percy finally looks up, calmly stating, "I'm not going to fight you."
"Why not? You must have enjoyed it before, being a Death Eater! You helped kill our friends! Our mum and dad! And you have the nerve to show up here? Whaddya expect, that we'd be overjoyed to see you? That we'd be thankful you were at least alive? You should have died valiantly like Harry instead of slithering away like a fucking lowly Slytherin!" Ron makes an attempt to pounce on Percy, but he finds himself being jerked back as Charlie grabs the hood of his robes.
"Ron! Behave yourself! I'm sure Percy betrayed us for good reasons."
The crowd, upon seeing that there'd be no bloodshed, irritably departed.
"There's no such thing as a good reason to join the Death Eaters."
"Stay out of this, Fred."
"Why? He's our brother too!"
Charlie extends his hand, dragging Percy, who thanks him quietly, to his feet. "It's good to see you, Perce, although circumstances could have been better. Don't mind those prats, they have yet to understand that blood is thicker than water." He turns to Ron, arms around Percy's shoulder. "If I had reacted this way when I saw our brother clad in those robes, I would have killed him then and there. But I didn't. Because he's our brother."
Ron's mouth drops open. "You knew! You knew all along and you never told us!"
Before Charlie can even think of replying, Ron has stormed off. The twins, not caring to talk to their brother, have also headed to the inside of the building they are forced to call home.
Percy glances around, accounting for all Weasleys except the youngest. "Where's Ginny?" There's a slight panic to his voice that Charlie smiles at. He does still care for them, although they fought on opposite sides of the war.
"She went for a walk this morning with Hermione. It's a good thing too."
"Good thing?" Percy snaps. "What is that supposed to mean?" He seats himself on the drab stairs, cold to the touch, and grey. Everything in the camps seems to be grey: the buildings, the grounds, some of the prisoners, and even the sky on days such as this one. Grey to match the emotions of those who were once valiant and pure.
"For her to see you like this . . ."
"As a Death Eater?"
"You betrayed us!"
Percy glares at Charlie. "You don't even know the half of it!"
"Believe me, I do Percy. But I'm not going to thank you for what you sold your soul for. I know everything comes at a price, but you must ask yourself if it was all worth it." Charlie surveys Percy with a solemn look, frowning.
Percy is shocked by Charlie's words, but he doesn't bother to delve deeper into their meaning.
"Listen, Perce, you are still my brother. Nothing can ever change that." And before Percy has the chance to respond, Charlie leaves the two old mates alone.
Oliver frowns as his eyes meet Percy's. "I suppose you shouldn't have expected them to be as happy to see you as I was."
"Oliver, I thought they were going to kill me. I never wanted to come here. Bloody hell, I wouldn't have if it wasn't for Flint and Pucey." Percy shrugs, and they begin walking along the lines in a futile attempt to stay warm.
Oliver curls his lip in disgust at the name Flint. Back in Hogwarts, they were rivals on the Pitch as well as in the halls. "Don't tell me you're mates with those two." And he's thankful that Percy hastily shakes his head. "So, why'd you do it? Join with them, of all people, I mean."
"For a chance at power?" Percy shrugs, knowing that power wasn't all of it. He wanted greatness. "I've asked myself that question a million times, but I was never able to find the answer. It wasn't until I talked to a higher-up that I finally realised why I'm here." He pauses, rubbing his hands together for a source of heat before placing them back into his pockets. "I'm here to save them, my family. Lucius was going to slaughter them, but then… something changed."
"Like?"
Percy smiles. "That's not important."
