August 1, 1997

"Audrey, come here!"

Percy's panicked hiss cut through my terror, moving my feet when my own will alone could not.

Voldemort glided past me like a wraith, the hem of his robe ghosting over my shoes and the stench of dirt and a sense of death wafted over me. He was tall and pale under the hood of his cloak, like something undead, resembling the lich from my grandfather's stories that had long haunted my nightmares. Only Voldemort was not decaying and rotting, he was firm of flesh and gaunt in appearance. Skeletal would be a more accurate description. The magic around him was exactly as my brother described, old and reeking of something well beyond my understanding. It made my hair stand on end, he was a horrific manifestation of fear and dread given mortal form and I suddenly understood why wizards refused to speak his name.

I was not sure I ever would again.

Backing away from the wraith who was now examining the office with disinterest towards Percy was a far quieter affair than one would expect. The room was silent, though I could have just been deafened by the shock. I couldn't take my eyes off the horror before me.

Percy pulled me behind him, meeting me halfway and putting himself between me and Voldemort who was observing the pair of us, seemingly relishing in our shared terror.

I grabbed the back of Percy's robes, I was not sure it would do anything substantial, but I was ready to yank him out of the line of fire if needed. I could feel him shaking under my hands and trying to get control of himself.

Voldemort held a finger to his lips, his wand casually resting in his other hand, the tip barely visible in an unspoken threat. He didn't have to tell us to be quiet. I did not have it in me to scream.

Percy stepped back, pressing me against the desk as something large moved into the room that I could not get a good look at as Percy shifted in front of me. I could see the two men that came in next. One I recognized from the Daily Prophet, Corban Yaxley, who had been arrested at Hogwarts not even a month ago and had escaped custody during the second mass breakout from Azkaban barely a week later.

The second was far more familiar to me as I had last seen him this morning. Pius Thicknesse.

I felt Percy's increasing tension under my hands, that way he stiffened when he saw Thicknesse and I knew we were both thinking the same thing.

We had been betrayed from within.

Now, we had to deal with the consequences and try to come out alive.

Percy and I moved away from the desk and pressed ourselves back against the wall as our wands were yanked from our grip by a disarming spell, they flew into Thicknesse's outstretched hand as he took up a position at the door. Percy stayed in front of me, putting himself between me and Yaxley's drawn wand, who rolled his eyes at the defiant display and Thicknesse looked on with a blank expression. What was wrong with him?

The jailer that really caught my attention was the giant snake that was curling up in the middle of the room. It was watching Percy and I through glimmering eyes, it lay coiled and comfortable on the floor like a lavish pet. This must have been what I saw entering the room after Voldemort when he arrived.

The snake… the snake did not feel like an animal. It looked like one, but there was something unnatural in its movements. The way it examined us. A kind of twisted expression of humanity, of true thought, in its eyes that made me sick in an instinctive way I could not describe. Snakes were animals, the ability to speak to them was spoken of by Native American wix from a few different tribes as a kind of gift from nature, a sensitivity to the natural world, but this creature was not a natural creation. It reeked of magic so old and dark and twisted I could taste it on my tongue.

The snake was looking at me. Her yellow eyes were taking me in.

Parseltongue was an act of sharing a link of magic to the snake the wix was speaking too. It made the snakes more intelligent and coherent, sharing a brain with snakes of no magical origin in a way. Magical snakes were different. They had more intelligence and ways to strengthen the magical bond between themselves and the wix, they intuitively had more complex thoughts, like the Runespoor from the Undercroft. Something deep inside me told me that this snake was still a creature, but too meddled and muddied to truly be so. There was too much humanity in its eyes.

I glanced back to the true threat in this room. Voldemort looked down at us with an attempt at a polite smile that could not bypass his malevolent air.

I looked up to see a muscle twitching in Percy's jaw. My hand released its grip on Percy's robes and began to move upwards as I unconsciously decided to raise it like a schoolgirl in a classroom as my throat was too tight to speak.

"Please inform the Minister he has a guest." Voldemort's voice was high and whispery, sending increasingly violent chills up my spine as he took a step towards us with his continued veneer of attempted civility. "I do not like to be kept waiting."

"Of course, sir." Percy's voice was quiet, his tone growing more official as he spoke, the shock of hearing his voice stopping me cold before I could raise my hand. He wretched himself from my grasp and stepped forward. His back straight, shoulders set firm in his decision. "If you'll follow me."

Watching him lead Voldemort to the Minister's door as I supported myself it felt like my heart had broken free of my chest. Don't leave me alone! Don't go off on your own with the creepy snake man!

I watched Percy walk away before Voldemort fell in behind him as if he were another guest, hiding Percy from my view. There was a formality to this, an attempt at a gentleman's demeanor to hide the implicit threat his presence posed. I did not care that there were other threats in the room, Voldemort being that close to Percy felt more immediate than silent Thicknesse and smiling Yaxley.

I had no illusions about how this day would end.

Percy knocked on the door and my stomach twisted and lurched.

"Come in!" Scrimgeour's voice was muffled on the other side of the door and it took everything in me not to puke at Yaxley's feet.

The door opened slowly, opening just a crack the way Percy always did those visits. Percy remained composed, shut down and professional as he spoke. "Minister Scrimgeour," his voice was slow and soft in a way I was unaccustomed to and I struggled to hear it. "You have a visitor."

Perhaps Scrimgeour said something, he knew his schedule as well as Percy and I did. The door opened wider and I could see a pale white hand on Percy's shoulder as the high, whispery voice took a more conversational volume.

"Now Scrimgeour, surely you have time for me?"

I didn't have to see Percy's face know his terror or his horrified understanding of what all of this would mean in the end.

I could see Scrimgeour in my mind's eye, the shock and horror of how badly this war had gone to end in the Minister's own office. Scrimgeour had always been a resolute man, he would rise to his feet, because he would refuse to die behind a desk or on his knees, he was too much like Jack and Atticus for that. A wartime Minister had to go out fighting and Scrimgeour had probably long known the end of his life would be one of violence, one did not become an Auror without making that peace.

"Percy, close the door behind you when you go."

"Yes sir."

Percy closed the door behind Voldemort as he glanced between the door and my position near Thicknesse and Yaxley, who I had just noticed was pointing his wand at me.

Well, great…!

The sudden loud bangs of things being thrown around the Minister's Office made me jump. The lionesque roars from Scrimgeour of battle or pain as thick black smoke came from under the door, implying that something had been set ablaze in the office. The walls shook. The doors rattled with the force of the fight that was happening beyond the door.

"Where is Harry Potter?" The high cold voice of Voldemort echoed through the room from the other side of the door. He wanted us to hear this. The sound stopped Percy cold halfway back to me as he looked back in horror as what he had done fully sunk in.

"Look yourself!"

The screaming from the Minister's Office was something I would never forget. It was animalistic and horrific, the pauses in Scrimgeour's torture were filled with his continued defiant shouting that he did not know where Harry Potter was. That even if he did, he would never tell.

And for Voldemort to go fuck himself.

Percy moved closer towards me a few more steps before Yaxley turned his wand in his direction stopping him cold.

"I hear congratulations are in order for your brother's wedding to a half-breed." Yaxley's voice was chilling. Percy's face expressed a kind of horror I had never seen in another person's face before, all wide eyes and white faced terror as Yaxley spun his wand between his fingers in a manner that reminded me of a cat playing with a mouse.

I stayed pressed against the wall and allowed my eyes to dart between the two men as Thicknesse stared at Yaxley as if waiting for orders.

I thought about Grandpa Atticus, he killed men like this during the war. People who gave orders sowing chaos and despair in acts of cruelty. People, governments, claimed there were rules in war. Torture broke all of the rules, be it psychological or a curse, though the rules looked nice on documents, the truth was that there could be no rules for inhumane actions. Especially when they came from Dark Wizards and their servants. No. Grandpa was right about things like this, war was by its core nature, a nasty, lawless business.

There was a split second of silence.

It was broken when Scrimgeour started screaming again, the high cold voice of Voldemort grew more irate with each demand to tell him where Potter was.

By the time an hour had passed the Minister had evidently decided that the only weapons left to him were aimless, toothless threats and honestly that was the scariest part. Scrimgeour's defiant shouting had grown raspy from his screams of pain under what I assumed to be the torture curse. A thought that made me want to puke. I did not like Scrimgeour much, but he never deserved this.

"Well, evidently he's not talking." Yaxley examined Percy with a predatory stare as he fingered his wand. "Maybe I'll have better luck with you." Yaxley took a firm grip on his wand and pointed it at Percy. "What about you, Weasley? Your family is close to Potter."

"I have not spoken to my family in over two years." Percy's voice was steady and he ignored my pained gasp at what I was seeing. "For all I know, Potter could be on the moon."

The knit of Yaxley's brow told me he did not appreciate Percy's retort. The way Percy screamed under the torture curse confirmed it. It took everything I had to not go to him, to push myself away from the wall and try to protect him. Percy curled inward and slammed his head on the floor as he did so as the rest of his limbs contorted and flew out of his control.

I can't do anything by being stupid.

Before I could speak, announce the location of the wedding and ruin everything I had built with Percy to save him from Yaxley's boredom, the suddenly resuming screaming from Scrimgeour, made me jump.

"What about you girl?" Yaxley turned his attention to me, seeming growing bored with the momentary distraction of Percy and perhaps realizing I might be a better way to break him down.

"I've never even met Potter," my mind spun as I tried to decide on a way to spin some advantage from this for a few moments. I had to think like Alex. I had to find that mindset that would earn enough trust from these people to keep us alive. Think Audrey! Think!

But I could not think.

I had caught a glimpse of green light flashing under the door of the Minister's Office and my mouth stopped working.

The Minister was dead.

The door opened slowly as Voldemort stepped out into the room, he was smiling and content with some kind of victory that seemed more than just killing a sitting world leader. Yaxley bowed his head in a polite greeting as more smoke emerged from the office, wafting out into the room in a pale gray smoke.

'Nagini,' the low hissing of Voldemort shook me to my core. I did not need to see the horror on Percy's face, or feel the vibration of my wand to understand that he was speaking parseltongue. There was something intuitive and instinctive in hearing it spoken aloud by another person, something inside the very core of my soul knew before the rest of the world confirmed it. How odd to hear it from someone else.

The serpent moved her head with interest. 'Master?'

Nagini's voice rang through my body, never quite reaching my ears but audible in the ways one would equate with dread in a primal instinct that tugged and twisted my retching soul.

I had wanted to meet another Parselmouth and see a giant snake, but this was not how I pictured any of this coming to pass.

The universe played one last joke on me and by Isolt, I hoped it was laughing!

'Come. I have something for you.'

What?

The snake said something, a noise that I could only describe as similar to a human's noise of agreement, but no, that would not be right at all. Nature had laws. Order in the chaos. That was not what this was. What the fuck was wrong with that snake?

Voldemort stepped aside, gesturing the Nagini into Scrimgeour's office with a polite nod of his head and holding the door open for her like she was a fine lady.

Nagini's voice reverberated through me. 'Oh, delicious.'

The knuckles of my hands were white from how tightly I was clutching my robes.

I did not know how long we waited, but it was not longer than a few minutes of silence and stillness before Voldemort emerged from the office once more with his pet serpent following dutifully behind him, appearing no greater in size from her consumption of the former Minister of Magic.

"I have what I need," Voldemort's voice echoed through the room. His expression was thoughtful as he looked around the room.

I moved to help Percy to his feet as he straightened himself out, if he was going to die, he apparently wanted to do so with a straight tie and his glasses on. Though his hands were shaking too badly to do anything in any capacity, I was sure it had more to do with the cruciatus curse than his nerves.

"Master," Yaxley's voice was stony, "What should I do with these two?"

"An excellent question." Voldemort looked at Percy and I with a thoughtful expression, as if he wanted us to answer. A test of compliance, the first of many to follow in the days to come.

"Sir," I started quickly, "Getting a new staff would be very suspicious, especially a staff that has served two previous Ministers." I ignored the look Percy was giving me. "Particularly if the staff is so well connected politically." It was why Scrimgeour kept me on staff, an idea I was sure would work twice. I gestured towards Percy, "His family knows Potter. I know the chief diplomat of the MACUSA Embassy, and frankly my word has been trusted over anything Scrimgeour has ever said to him."

I met Voldemort's eyes for a moment as my mind felt the familiar probing sensation I recognized from Lucinda. Something horrid, but almost lazy, like it was a momentary distraction or boredom.

I felt my mind instinctively retreat into the sanctuary I had created, one of memories and altered reality of things I knew played close to the truth, but shrouded the core of the truth in layers of lies crafted by my own imagination. My memories of getting coffee with Elihu and the discussions we had turned from matters of mentorship to regulatory talks about policy, general discussion of MACUSA political affairs and delivering letters from home that came from the Embassy post office. Our letters about government structure turned to business affairs on behalf of the Ministry. It was a friendly acquaintanceship, a former employer catching up with his favorite intern, rather than the someone who I thought of as a mentor.

I should have been alarmed by how easy it was to create this false reality of two vaguely homesick people who wanted to discuss the politics of their home country, but I did not have it in me to be philosophical at that moment.

No, I had lost my hold on this crafted reality. The letters returned to their usual state, speaking of policies entwined with personal commentary about the weird people who worked for the MACUSA government. My time working in his office as an intern, writing Elihu's speeches, assisting on the floor of the senate and attending the funeral of Elihu's wife, Elaine.

It ended after that, the rush back to reality left me physically nauseous. He stopped at the funeral for some reason, the view of Elaine's body in the casket was at the front of my mind the way it had not been for years.

Voldemort's gaze moved towards Thicknesse, "I believe you've just been promoted. Congratulations."

Thicknesse looked on with a blank expression. No, he was a puppet, not the Minister. I understood who really was in charge today.

Evidently, Percy did too. He took some of the files he had set aside for Scrimgeour to sign out of their assigned tray and held them out to Voldemort with a stoic expression.

"Will that be all, Minister?"

Voldemort's laugh was cold and sent chills down my spine.

The room emptied in the moments that followed, leaving only me and Percy behind. Yaxley left our wands on my desk across the room. I waited for the noise from the lift that they had left before kissing Percy on the mouth.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so."

I took his face in my hands again and kissed him again, his warm hands encasing mine in surprise.

"I love you!" His words were muffled from being pressed against my mouth, but I still heard him.

I pulled back quickly, surprised that he said that under these conditions.

"I know it's not ideal circumstances, but-"

"I love you too!"

The stress and exhaustion of the day left him looking much like did, beyond exhausted and far older in many ways than we had woken up that morning, but there was a youthful exuberance in Percy's eyes when I told him I loved him back. It seemed to bring him back to life after coming so close to death.

We stepped apart for a moment, retrieving our wands as we both looked towards Scrimgeour's office with weary expressions. I needed to see for my own peace of mind, but I knew what was just out of sight in the office.

We knew the Minister was dead, but there was a morbid curiosity and finality to seeing the state of him for public record.

Percy stepped in front of me, wordlessly declaring that he would go first. He took his first steps towards the door with me following behind. We both pulled out our wands, a pointless gesture, but it was one of security now.

The office was a mess. Papers were askew on the floor, burned to varying levels of completion. I wondered if my file was among them. The Minister's desk was sitting at an angle, smoking and not entirely burned away yet. It was like Scrimgeour had never worked here at all.

"Where's the body?" Percy asked quietly as he glanced around at the surprising lack of damage. "You don't think-?"

"That the serpent ate his remains? I have no doubt."

I saw a small streak of blood on the floor next to the stone fireplace. Scrimgeour's probably. A sign that he was murdered and not whatever Thicknesse would say on his Master's behalf. I doubted it was an accident or an oversight on Voldemort's part. I think Scrimgeour wanted to leave some kind of proof to aid in proving the truth of this insane story.

We needed to leave.

Percy seemed to understand my thoughts before I could voice them, putting an arm over my shoulder while summoning our things with a wave of his wand before leading me out of the support staff office. I draped my cloak over my shoulder and adjusted my purse strap.

It felt like a breath of fresh air to leave the chaos behind. We would have to return Monday, somehow I did not think we would be needed. Percy had been working weekends since Dumbledore died, I doubted the Death Eaters who had just taken control would have any need to call either of us to work overtime in the days ahead.

We stepped into the lift, Percy removing his arm from my shoulders and fidgeting with his coat buttons with wide, frightened eyes. I was trying to shove the book I was reading into a spot in my purse where I could close the bag in a stupid effort to distract myself.

When the lift opened again we both jumped back, neither of us expecting anyone else to be leaving right now or too distracted to think much beyond getting out of the Ministry. I dropped my purse and Percy jumped in front of me with his wand in his hand.

The man in front of us wore Auror robes, he was bald with dark skin and a single gold earring in one of his ears. He reminded me of an older version of Quincy, who had a very similar sense of style. I had seen him before around the Ministry, I heard he was assigned to watch the Muggle Prime Minister to make sure he was not assassinated or controlled by Death Eaters, it was amazing what one could hear from the other secretaries and from listening to people who forgot I was there.

The man looked at the two of us. His mouth set in a tight line as he took in our stressed appearances, Percy's messy hair and wild eyes. The vacant, shocked expression I was sure was on my own face.

"What happened?" His voice was low as he stepped into the lift and the door clicked closed behind him.

I could see him piecing everything together and he looked over us again.

"Is he dead?"

I did not know who we could trust, if we could really trust anybody after today, but someone needed to know. Though I did not believe we really had to say anything, Kingsley Shacklebolt was clearly a very intelligent man. Our silence gave him his answer.

"You-Know-Who." My voice was quiet. "In the office."

Shacklebolt nodded slowly as he knelt down to pick up my purse for me. I reached under Percy's arm to take it back with a quick thank you. The lift opened in the Atrium, Shacklebolt held the door for the pair of us with a hard expression. "Go home. Both of you."

No need to tell me twice.

"Thank you, sir." Percy mumbled as he fixed his glasses and let me out of the lift first into the empty Atrium.

Shacklebolt was not following, he had closed the lift and disappeared from sight. Somehow, I knew he was going to the Minister's Office to see what had happened. It would be something a reasonable person would do and Shacklebolt was reported to be a sensible character by the secretaries from the Law Enforcement Office.

I stopped at the first fireplace that we passed, I wanted to leave immediately and walking to the apparition point would take too long. I made sure the floo was active and connected to the network before throwing in a handful of floo powder. I stated the address of my apartment building and my floo code as I grabbed Percy and yanked him into the fireplace with me before we were consumed with smoke and green fire.

We staggered out of the fireplace into my living room, clutching each other like a lifeline as we crashed to the floor with such force I was sure my downstairs neighbors heard us.

"Isolt's wand, we're alive!"

"He just walked in!" Percy's chest heaved. "Why didn't he kill us?"

"We're more valuable alive. You popped off to a homicidal lunatic and he liked it!"

"Don't remind me!" Percy rolled onto his back for a moment, trying to catch his breath as the panic and rush of emotions finally began to settle.

I sat up and gripped his hand in mine tightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore. I think my expectations for torture have been met and exceeded."

"Don't be sarcastic. You can go lay down in my room if you want."

"That sounds nice," He sat up and turned towards the coffee table and put his head down on his arms. "Maybe later."

"I'll get you something to drink."

"Please."

As I turned towards the kitchen there was a knock at the door and a sudden recollection of my plans for the evening made me jump. There was a man in my house on girl's night. I felt I had broken an unspoken sacred law of an old, secret temple.

Percy was face down on the table and well beyond reach of logic and temptation of lying down in my room.

I checked the door with a security question, Misty answered as did Zara in her turn, I opened the door and was greeted with happy noises and the clink of wine bottles.

Misty stepped into the living room, I was not sure what to say to warn her and Zara or start to tell them what had happened to us this afternoon.

"Weasley?" Misty's voice echoed through the room, clearly confused. "You look terrible!"

Percy propped his chin in his hand as he looked at the three of us.

It was Zara who broke the silence by turning to me with a look of astonishment. "You're not pregnant are you?"

Oh, this was going to be a long night.

Oo0Oo0

Author's Notes: Despite Scrimgeour's faults, he went out defying Voldemort and defending Harry and that's pretty badass.

I think there is a difference between Harry and Ginny and the horcrux possession parseltongue ability. I think those with the inborn ability can always tell when they are hearing it and when it is being spoken in their vicinity, it's something that, like Audrey says, grabs at their soul even if they have never met another person with the ability.

I never liked the idea of Nagini being a person at any point. That's not canon here but I've left it open for people who lean more into that canon then I do. I like to think she's an experiment of sorts, a combination of magic, selective cross breeding of magical snakes and being a horcrux has made her highly intelligent (that bit of soul from being a horcrux is amplifying the intelligence that is already there, giving her very human thoughts and reactions). For a true parseltongue, her presence and words are foul and unnatural.

Audrey's a confirmed Slytherin, she likes her circle of people and looks out for them before those she does not know. Her people first, not the cause.