March 3, 1997

Dolores Umbridge is a cow.

I had a whole host of other things I needed to do today that did not involve taking notes for her meeting with the department heads. She knew I was busy. She still made the request that I cannot refuse and now I have to sit through watching her attempt to manage people on the Minister's behalf.

I think I need a raise.

I deserve one for sitting through this sanctimonious parade of incompetence.

These Ministry meetings were something I found to be a tedious and pointless waste of time, more of a discussion on department management and supply concerns. Arthur Weasley managed to escape early when a sudden report of a supposed protection amulet that instead caused burns and hair loss to the wearer putting someone in Saint Mungo's demanded his immediate attention.

I would have traded places with anyone involved in that scenario to escape this meeting.

I had some suspicions he found these meetings as pointless as I did and preplanned this exit, perhaps telling his staff to give him the first case that crossed his desk after the meeting started.

A continuous droning chorus of budget and plans that had been in discussion for over three months now to improve public safety. Ongoing talk of printing a new home defense pamphlet and what spells should be included while I bit my tongue so as to not tell them actual battle magic might be appreciated by the people they claimed to serve.

These people are idiots.

They are so tied down in their own bureaucratic nonsense that they cannot get anything done or do anything that is useful. Lucinda had always been sympathetic to my work complaints in this vein, that the Ministry had been run in this way since before she worked there and would continue to do so long after I left. I knew government work was generally wheel turning and navel gazing, but war and threats to society tended to light fires that would get things done. None of that seemed to be happening.

Perhaps I didn't have the patience to be a cog in this bureaucracy? I had been having the thought on and off for weeks about leaving to pursue something else as a career, but I didn't know what. I would always have an opportunity to be a political pundit, but I wouldn't be taken seriously until I had some real accomplishments under my belt such as a published article or three, or even years of service working for a real branch of government under people who actually did things to help people.

What if I left politics entirely? I had struggled on and off with the idea of writing a book, but I felt so young in all the ways that made a book compelling in the exploration of themes and truths of humanity. I still had so much to learn about the world and how I fit into it. I was not at the point where I felt I could explore the themes that engaged me in my favorite novels and manage to tell a compelling tale in the same breath. Someday perhaps, when the war was over I would feel less of a girl and more of a confident young woman who was finally fed up enough to leave and try something reckless once more.

"Perhaps a brochure of various counter curses?"

"Another on safety charms perhaps? Simple ones like the caterwauling charm. Not for city use of course, but those folks in the country would find it useful."

Oh, these people…!

"What sort of counter curses?"

"Some that sound friendly, we don't want the public to be more frightened than they already are."

I thought about my family grimoire that I was studying in the evenings. It was full of old magic and homemade spells that dabbled in things that I would classify as dark or gray in nature. Great-aunt Armista had created a spell that would peel the skin off of her cadavers for her lessons, she noted that the stronger version would separate the skin, bones and organs if the body needed to be handled quickly. She had been experimenting on spiders and snakes mainly. Her private notes stated that it was only to be used on the dead, walking or otherwise.

I was not advocating to teach spells like those found in my family's grimoire to be taught. My irritation came from this idea these Ministry officials had about appropriate battle magic, it felt so sanitized and they never would have made it through a strategy meeting with my father or hearing his opinions on self-defense which functioned under the idea of relentless aggression in all forms.

Hell, let Annette talk about her latest death fixation.

I suffered in silence through the rest of this hour-long meeting, ignoring Umbridge's hem hems and sickeningly sweet utterances of opinion about her finding the strict teaching of theory to be more than adequate for her students.

I had an implicit, unexplained urge to hear her say that in front of my grandfather just to see what would happen. Carnage. It would be the kind of carnage that would make Annette giddy.

Oo0Oo0

"Did you read about the murder in Bibury in the Saturday paper?"

Percy looked at me with a raised eyebrow from where he stood cutting vegetables in his kitchen, seemingly finishing the final stages of a dinner. "I did, I worked with Rokesby in International Magical Cooperation."

"How could he have gotten the Death Eaters' attention?"

I had managed to talk Percy into breaking his routine for our dates, which was easier than I expected. He had been unusually quiet all day since he read a memo from the Minister this morning. The contents had left Percy has been visibly shaken afterwards. The memo had paled his complexion and made his freckles pop against his skin. I had no chance to inquire about the matter privately before Umbridge functionally kidnapped me from the office.

Mondays should be banned from civilized society.

Percy shrugged, "No idea. He was a nice man. Quiet. Thankfully his wife was working late at Saint Mungo's."

I nodded in agreement. I hoped that gave Rokesby a bit of solace at the end.

"Though there might be one thing."

I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms in front of me as I looked at Percy inquisitively. "What would that be?"

"Rokesby was muggle-born and the current deputy head of his department."

I had only met Rokesby once in passing when I was running an errand, he held the door open for me as I was leaving the Minister's Office. The words of a deputy department head held weight, perhaps he was supporting something in the office that proved particularly adversarial to Voldemort's cause?

"His poor wife. I can't imagine coming home to that."

I had seen the dark mark in the paper, only in the paper thankfully and never in person. It looked horrific, a calling card for malicious political actors who took pleasure in terror and strife. I had begun to understand the terror they inflicted during Voldemort's rise to power. People who could unite around a symbol could truly become monstrous because they felt as if they were a part of something big, scary and important that could give them the respect they did not feel they had in their daily lives.

"How's Lucinda doing?"

"She's fine, I saw her yesterday for lunch. She says Tavish is working on a new vegetable garden and wants to talk to her about adding to the orchard next year."

We had another Occlumency lesson afterwards. Lucinda said I was improving quickly and the maze I was building in my mind was becoming more intricate and vivid with each of her attempts to violate its sanctity. A maze of trees and rivers, trappings of a camping trip I remembered taking as a young girl. Each section of the maze was covered in traps and twisting detours where I stored false memories. I had managed to lead Lucinda into a memory of myself climbing a tree as a child. Lucinda told me that she could tell the memory was fake because the bark on the tree was too smooth.

I wondered what Percy's childhood had been like. I knew he had all of those siblings and most likely a house out in the country to house all of those children. Did he climb trees if only for a bit of peace and quiet away from what I gathered was a herd of chaotic siblings? My imagining of the Weasley family home was perhaps a bit too idyllic, built off passing comments from Percy and Lucinda, but the image I had was so pleasant I was reluctant to let it go and ask about the reality.

We had never really talked about our childhoods and our families. Which I was grateful for! But if I wanted to know more about Percy, give and take was part of every discussion. We had avoided uncomfortable truths and lies for months but I knew this couldn't go on forever if this was going to work. I did not need to be working with him when the truth came out either. My talk with Elihu a couple of weeks ago had laid that bare. Either Percy could hear it from me after I leave the office, or someone else would tell him before I did. My worst case scenario, my true nightmare, was Jack showing up and taking an opportunity to give an unprepared Percy the shock of his life.

Isolt's panties.

I couldn't handle that. Jack has a strong personality. So does Percy. I don't want to be in the middle of any encounter of theirs if it's not related to work. Work discussions, I imagined, would soften some of Jack's more… caustic opinions. He was never one to burn a bridge.

If I ever was with the pair as they discussed topics not related to work and government, I would have to throw myself out a window.

It seemed a viable option.

But the two men would never meet if I had any control of the situation.

If they ever did, I no longer intended to be working for the Ministry.

I glanced over at Percy, watching his hands as he continued to cut vegetables with a few flicks of his wand, the knife moving quickly through the carrots and spring onions while a pan scrubbed itself in the sink and I felt a rush of admiration surge through me. Partially because I was not a good cook and fumbled awkwardly through the kitchen (eggs were my greatest nemesis) and that Percy was running multiple kitchen charms, which really impressed me.

I liked this. This normality. All I had to do was keep pretending that my father and step-mother were a low level bureaucrat from wand regulations and a teacher. It was so easy to fall into that reality.

But I knew this would not last forever.

Lies always come out of the shadows given enough time. But was it so wrong to enjoy a segment of someone else's life for a time? No. Though the burden of honesty weighed heavily upon me. Percy would never believe me duplicitous, it was not something he looked for in my countenance and actions within our relationship. My lies had rarely been blatant, though that did not promise me safety from the anger of someone hurt by my deceptions and stretched truths.

I was going to talk to Elihu about leaving the Ministry, if one of his secretaries wanted to return home to the US I would be happy to fill a position at the end of the summer.

Maybe then I could tell Percy about the reality of my family situation. If he wished to end it, it would be easier for both of us if one of us was already out of the office.

It would hurt less.

Okay, I was going to focus on the present and build myself up for the inevitable collapse.

Don't get attached, Audrey.

"You've been oddly quiet all day. It's not just Rokesby is it?"

Percy glanced over at me with a tight expression, a few strands of hair fell over his forehead while the rest caught the light of the setting sun through the window.

"I found out this morning that two days ago, Ron was poisoned and almost died. On his birthday."

My heart jumped into my throat, "He's okay, right?"

Percy nodded, "By sheer dumb luck apparently."

I played with my bracelet as I debated how to best phrase the words that wanted to escape.

"You clearly love your brother." Something pressed me to tease a bit, a smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. "Is Ron your favorite?"

Percy huffed quietly before glancing over at me, catching on that I was playing with him a bit as his expression softened slightly. "I have no favorite."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Hm?"

"Your brother."

Percy ignored me for a moment, the food going into the oven with a wave of his wand. The oven door closed with a muffled thump.

"I'm not close to my siblings." I can't expect openness without opening up myself in turn. "My brother and sister are much older and younger than I am. Nine and seven years is a large gap in both directions." I paused. "It must be nice having siblings closer to you in age."

Percy had his back to me and I was not sure what he was thinking or how my probing would be perceived, we had never had an open discussion about our families. It was so easy to avoid the topic.

"Your sister seems to like you."

"Annie likes most people."

"She wrote you letters."

Oh.

"I've never been close to my siblings." Percy paused and moved away from the oven to lean against the counter across the room from me. "My older brothers were closer, the twins were a set from the beginning and I was a bit too old to be interesting to Ron and Ginny."

I nodded slowly in an effort to keep him talking.

"I was fine. I wasn't lonely."

It sounded lonely, but who was I to judge? Maybe we were both lonely middle children at heart, lost in the shuffle of quickly growing families or the drama surrounding a broken family dynamic.

"I sent a letter to Ron last year. I wanted to give him advice and congratulate him on becoming a prefect and I never heard back. I opened the door and nobody made an effort. The only person who wants me back is my mum, but she's still so committed to the righteousness of Dumbledore and Potter and the others would never want me back. Can't they see how dangerous Hogwarts is under Dumbledore's leadership?"

"You've told me a bit about this? The giant snake?"

"Yes! The giant snake! The giant chess set! The escaped mass murderer who tried to stab Ron in his bed in the dormitory!"

"What?"

"I don't care that Ron said he was innocent, he was clearly brainwashed! Blamed the whole thing on Scabbers being an animagus of a dead man!"

What the hell? What's a Scabbers?

"Being used as an incentive for Potter in the Triwizard Tournament! Escaping Hogwarts to break into the Department of Mysteries and fight Death Eaters!" He paused, collecting himself for a moment before continuing. "From the time Potter started school, he's been a menace and a magnet for danger that could have-" He stopped suddenly, unable to voice what I was completing in my mind.

Gotten my brother killed, hung in the air even without the words being said aloud. The clarity brought by his wide, frightened eyes at the words that he had almost said aloud.

What in the world was wrong with this school?

"You're worried."

"Of course I am," Percy sighed. "Every year since Potter arrived it's been one nightmare incident after another. Nothing changes. No safety standards improve or even appear to be implemented."

Percy summoned a wine glass from the cabinet, sending it to my usual spot at the small table, an invitation to sit down and stop standing in the doorway because I was a guest who he wanted to stay for a while. I took the seat and poured the wine I had brought from my apartment into the glasses as Percy sat down across from me. Pots, pans and plates continued to scrub themselves in the sink in a rhythmic, controlled manner.

"Schools are supposed to be safe, places of learning where making mistakes or being nosy about something won't get you killed." He sighed and looked at me before stiffening in his chair. "I don't imagine that's very interesting to you."

"What makes you say that? School administration and management is a branch of politics, it's not my preferred interest but local politics show more about public opinion than just the national elections."

"Well…"

I think I knew what he was trying to say.

"Percy, you come off a bit strong, but I don't mind. It just strengthens my good opinion of you."

Percy looked at me with a slightly baffled expression, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"You're a bit protective, but I don't see that as a bad thing, sure, you may have come off more parental than brotherly, but at least you're invested in them. Kids don't really appreciate that until they're older anyway."

"You have a lot of experience with that?" Percy's expression shifted to something coy and playful, his eyes moving slowly over me. "A protective brother?"

It sounded like he wanted to be sure Alex wouldn't come around to act the part.

"No, my brother's like a cat, he comes and goes as he pleases and does whatever suits him. My cousin Quincy is too focused on being an Auror to bother me about my life. I promise you're very safe."

"I don't know, your brother was pretty quick to go for my throat."

Ah, yeah. That's a family trait. My father might be your bigger concern.

"I don't see him much." How much should I say? "We're not close. I wish we were but the age difference and other things were big obstacles. My brother left to chase his career into Europe while I was thirteen and I hadn't seen him until this year."

"Oh," Percy moved his gaze to the window, Hermes was sitting on the roof of the building next door fluffing himself up contentedly. "No letters or visits?"

"Um…" I could say this much. "He had a massive fight with our father. My dad's a bit of an asshole and, to be honest, the fight was a long time coming. My brother left home over my Christmas break and I've not seen or heard from him until this year."

I was afraid that this would change the comfortable atmosphere between us to something awkward. It did not.

"He never wrote to you?" Percy turned his attention firmly on me, his glasses sliding down his nose before he pushed them back into place. "He doesn't sound like a good brother."

No, Alex never sounded that way. I'm not sure he ever was.

"I'm sure he had his reasons."

He did, I understood some of it, but it didn't stop me from feeling like a casualty in his crusade against our father.

I was not going to mention the topic of the fight, it was not my business to air Valencia's trauma and I did not care to have a discussion about the ethics of joke love potions tonight, even if I knew Percy would agree with me on the matter. I like Valencia a lot and consider her a friend, which meant there was a good chance she could meet Percy at some point and I had no care to color her in his eyes solely with the survivor label over all of her other good qualities.

Besides, discussing the matter once with Lucinda was difficult enough.

"We've talked a bit, I think we're on the way to building something of a relationship."

Was that too much?

"That's good."

"He's not interested in my life, so I think you're safe for now."

Percy took a sip of wine and relaxed slightly, "I promise that I am not frightened of your brother."

"Excellent!"

The silence that settled over us for a few moments was companionable and comfortable. I listened to the sound of dinner sizzling in the oven and watched the bubbles pop in my wine glass.

"When I become Minister," Percy started, crossing his arms in thought, a confident smile on his face. "I think a stricter oversight of Hogwarts is long past due."

"No more giant snakes then?"

"Why are you so fixated on the snake?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, a smile pulling at the corner of my mouth at his baffled expression. "I just wonder how no one ever noticed a giant snake moving through your school at any point in history. What was it living on? Rats? Pets? Missing students?"

Percy was not going to take that bait, the huffy noise he made told me as much.

"Anyway," he started again, "School oversight. We need to be brought back up to standard in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Clearly," I summoned the Ministry's latest self defense brochure with a flick of my wand from where Percy had left it on the counter. "These are all very basic spells. Like the kind you teach to children for dueling lessons. I'm not using a tickling charm on a Death Eater, that would be stupid."

Tickling charms had not been listed in the pamphlet, but the spirit of the comment was accurate.

"Well, we can't keep a professor because of the curse."

"Which is why you all can't place in the International Dueling Tournament. How long has it been? Fifty years?"

"That was Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher."

"He was your last victor then." I grinned smugly, Vincent Price from Wyoming had taken the gold in the last tournament seven years ago. I remembered going with my father and grandpa with Alex and Quincy. Grandpa had been teaching us how to duel and had been criticizing the duelists techniques and spell work throughout the event and he was particularly vicious about the techniques and spells used by the British competitor who was knocked out of the first round before continuing on about the quality of the Aurors the country produced, something Grandpa Atticus was not impressed with over the last several decades. "So how do you plan to deal with a cursed job position?"

"Easy, break the curse."

"Simple enough, surely too easy to have been tried before."

"It was actually tried back in the seventies." Percy paused, bringing his hand to his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know much about curse-breaking, but the consensus is there needs to be a focus point for the curse itself. It's rare that things like that just attach to an abstract idea. That's more of a figure of speech than anything else."

"Alright, in short, you would actively pursue educational oversight to break a decades old curse to bring Defense Against the Dark Arts back to international standards. I have to ask, what happened to the curse-breaker who tried to solve the problem originally?"

"Apparently he died under mysterious circumstances within the hour."

I blinked slowly at Percy as he continued.

"I found the record at the Ministry in a Hogwarts expense folder."

"Alright then."

"In all honesty, Audrey, if someone gets murdered at that school I will not be surprised!"

Oo0Oo0

Author's Note: I like to think Percy has foils all over this fic who pepper Audrey's life in some capacity.

Audrey wants to see a giant snake. It's on her bucket list.

Percy's love language is words of affirmation.