Chapter 2: Proposition at the Pub
Upon his arrival, Percy promptly vomited. He was momentarily distracted by a sense of gratefulness that the twins hadn't witnessed such a vulnerable, un-Percy-like scene. However, that feeling quickly evaporated when he realized that the twins would never again gloat over him. This reminder of his circumstance, the loneliness he was destined to carry with him, caused him to intake his breath. Even the loss of his biggest bullies sent a pang through his heart.
Percy had apparated on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, near the Shrieking Shack. In the hazy early morning light, he could make out the rough shape of the village. Before he began his journey into town, Percy first took a moment to collect himself. Sometimes, particularly during long nights spent hunched over an essay in the library or on late-night prefect patrols, Percy felt separate not only from his family but also from the other Gryffindors. The hat must have seen something courageous about him (though, in his current state he couldn't even begin to fathom what that might have been). However, he also felt like he would have been more successful and happy in another house - perhaps Ravenclaw or even Slytherin. While his brothers were happy to rush headfirst into whatever situation they found themselves in, Percy was more cautious. He preferred to create a plan first and then act.
A rush of impulsivity, brought on by his frayed nerves and weary constitution following a long, emotional night, had led him to apparate to Hogsmeade. But now that he was here, staring at the castle and the village, he felt unsure and nervous. For long moments he took deep breaths and developed a plan.
First, he established what he wanted. If someone had asked him yesterday what his greatest desire was, he probably would have answered something about being the youngest-ever Minister of Magic. Today, all he wanted was to repair the relationship that he had broken with his family. Not only that, he wanted his family to love him unconditionally and brashly as they did towards one another, not just simply forgive him. He knew that he could probably go home right now, get down on his knees, admit his wrongs and receive his family's forgiveness. That wouldn't be enough. Their forgiveness would force Percy to continue the life that he had previously lived, no more and no less. Percy was a new man - he wanted to be loved and admired by his family, to not just be perfect-prefect Percy, but instead a Weasley man. To achieve these means, he only had one solution. At that, Percy began to walk through the grassy knolls of the highlands, towards the village.
It was now early morning and the shops of Hogsmeade were slowly starting to open. Bleary-eyed shopkeepers began to prop open doors and the scent of fresh-baked bread began to waft through the small town. He vanished the mess from his apparition off his clothes and quickly fixed his appearance. It was not quite the typical Percy perfection, but even in this unsteady state, he refused to be seen as a disheveled mess. When he felt presentable, he walked through Hogsmeade, keeping sure to maintain the upright and rigid posture he always carried himself with. It was no business of anyone else around him the turmoil and anguish that he felt within. He stopped at the Owl Post Office and penned two notes. The first was a rather quick note sent to his supervisor, the Minister of Magic. He would not be in today because he was not feeling well. He would catch up tomorrow as needed. Despite the revelations, Percy still felt a pang of disgust at calling out of work. The next note, he took more time with. He carefully requested an audience with Albus Dumbledore, at the Three Broomsticks, as soon as possible.
It was a far-fetched request, he recognized, for someone as meager as Percy Weasley to be requesting a private meeting with Albus Dumbledore. However, following the catastrophic fight the night before and the tremendous realizations that accompanied the evening, Percy Weasley felt he had no other option. He wanted to eke out meaning out of this life that so far he had managed to do nothing but flub up. He hoped that Dumbledore could read between the lines and recognize that this wasn't Percy, former Head Boy writing. Nor was it Percy, assistant to Mr. Crouch or the Minister of Magic. No, this was a new Percy, a Percy that up until the early hours of this morning didn't exist. A desperate, drifting, terrified Percy. The moment the owl flew away, towards the highest tower of Hogwarts, gleaming in the early morning light, Percy wished he could take back the note. Maybe he didn't want to embrace the understanding of last night. He could always turn up late to work, tell the Minister that he unexpectedly began to feel better, and resume his life.
Even as he imagined himself jostling into the office, confident and arrogantly apologetic to the minister, he felt a sense of disgust. That life was gone and he never wanted to live it, ever again. He walked towards the Three Broomsticks, hoping to find a table in the corner of the room away from prying eyes. He could feel the long night begin to weigh on him, as the exhaustion slowly crept into his bones. He ordered a coffee at the bar, took a seat, and waited. His eyes had begun to droop, while his coffee steamed when he startled awake to the jostling of a chair being moved. Albus Dumbledore had settled himself into the chair across from him, quietly casting a notice-me-not spell.
"Why, Mr. Weasley, I can't say I expected to start my morning with such an interesting piece of correspondence." Dumbledore began. His eyes twinkled in the same merry way they always had, but an air of concern colored his voice. This surprised Percy - why would the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Great Albus Dumbledore be concerned for Percy?
"I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused this morning, Headmaster. I seem to have found myself lost in a predicament." Percy began stiffly. He always struggled with conversations of a personal nature. It felt nearly unbearable to describe his turmoil to someone of such great status and power - even if that person was practically public enemy number one to the ministry. However, Percy continued, "I realized this morning, after a rather dramatic argument with my father, that I may have been standing on the wrong side of history. What's worse, I believe I have only now made that discovery too late. I left my parents' home and I don't believe they will be welcoming me home anytime soon." At the last sentence, Percy's voice tightened.
Dumbledore looked at him curiously. "I am sure that is not true Mr. Weasley. I have known your family for a very long time - that would be quite out of character for your mother and father."
"Sir, I do believe that perhaps I am a bit too out of character for my family. Besides, the fight we had - I may have crossed a line." This stung to admit. Fred and George crossed lines and lost points. Percy maintained the path of righteousness - or so he thought.
"Mr. Weasley, perhaps you could enlighten me - what could you have possibly done to have landed in the predicament you seem to believe yourself to be in?" Dumbledore questioned, gently. At once Percy wondered why the Headmaster was even bothering with him. If felt ridiculous to be sitting in front of one of the greatest wizards of all time, complaining about a family feud. However, Dumbledore came here freely; he could have easily ignored Percy's scrawled frantic note this morning and gone about his regular duties. Knowing this, Percy inhaled deeply and confessed.
"Sir, I apologize for what I am about to say. In the past twelve hours, I have come to my senses but that doesn't change the terrible things I said to my father. I - I- I'm afraid…" and at this Percy struggled to choke out the worst of his confession. "I'm afraid that I called you and Harry Potter a liar. Worse still, I accused you of being power-hungry and intent upon overthrowing the ministry!" He could feel his face as it turned bright red, but he continued.
"Sir, I want you to know, my-my family, they are very loyal to you. My father didn't tolerate those accusations kindly at all. While I left the Burrow on my own volition, I don't believe my welcome would have lasted much longer. Regardless, Headmaster, I have come to understand the price of my ambition within the ministry. In the name of power, I tarnished my family and their values. I am coming to you sir, humbly, asking to be your servant during these times."
Dumbledore gazed at him intently. Percy watched his face carefully, waiting for him to react angrily to his confession. It felt stupid now to seek help from the man who only hours ago Percy had been belittling in front of his family. He was in too deep now, he had no choice but to face Dumbledore's anger.
But Dumbledore surprised, softly, so that it was almost impossible to hear, Dumbledore murmured, "Oh, Percy, my dear child."
Percy was shocked. This was not the expected response. He had anticipated anger, he had hoped for Dumbledore's resigned forgiveness. But this, what sounded like compassion, he felt unsure - he couldn't even bring himself to respond.
Dumbledore continued to look upon Percy, with a sad, almost nostalgic look. What Dumbledore said next almost knocked Percy over.
"Mr. Weasley, you remind me so much of myself. It would appear, however, that you are more intelligent than I was at your age. I wish I had better understood the price of power sooner." Dumbledore's voice softened as he spoke, a deep melancholy coloring his voice that Percy had never heard before. Percy felt paralyzed in his seat; he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Had he fallen asleep in the woods outside of Ottery St. Catchpole? Had he not left the Burrow last night, but was instead beaten by his rightfully angry brothers? His disorientation could not possibly be the result of any reality, he reasoned.
Dumbledore continued, but now his voice seemed far-away. "You are lucky, Mr. Weasley, for you can now atone for your mistakes and find happiness in your family's arms. No, I do not require your servitude, my dear child. Nor do I believe that your family would require such a penance. Let me help you make amends, Mr. Weasley and we can leave it at that."
This last sentence startled Percy back into action - reality or no he had made up his mind. While Dumbledore's assistance in making up with his family would significantly increase his standing within the family, he would still be cast aside as the son who didn't believe, the son who had been wrong. Mistakes had consequences and consequences required some sort of hardship in order to merit lessons learned. Percy didn't believe that he had suffered enough for his ambition, therefore he hadn't earned his place within his family. Percy needed to make this right and he knew how he would.
"Sir, I appreciate your flattery, but I don't think I am very much like you at all. When you were my age, you were vanquishing a dark wizard and fighting for the light. I have been cowering behind bureaucracy and pondering cauldron thicknesses." Dumbledore's eyes peered intently at him, it seemed as though he hadn't anticipated Percy to push back against his kindness. Percy continued, lowering his voice.
"There have been rumors at the Ministry and of course murmurings among my family about an underground organization headed by you that aims to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…"
"Voldemort," Dumbledore quickly interrupted, but then allowed Percy to continue.
"Yes then, Voldemort. Sir, I have reason to believe that I could be of some service to you from within the Ministry. As my father pointed out last night, the Ministry appointed me to the minister's office as a means of spying on you. However, I believe I could turn their own trick back upon them. What if I were to maintain my estrangement from my family and use my position to assist you and your resistance?" Percy struggled to keep the desperation out of his voice. This was his only plan to earn his family's love. He knew if he was allowed to go through with his plan, it would mean a period of time, years possibly, of isolation and danger.
However, if it all worked out, then he would be able to return to his family, humbly and having done honest work, and ask for their forgiveness. Percy would be able to show his family, once and for all that he gave up his ambition, that he had risked his career at the ministry, and that sacrificed his professionalism in the fight against Voldemort. They would have to love him and all that hardship, all the pain, and suffering, would be worth it.
"Mr. Weasley, while I can not deny the advantages within your plan to my organization, I cannot ask you to commit yourself to what you are saying without ensuring that you understand the full severity of what is at stake. Mr. Weasley, do you remember Voldemort's first reign of terror?"
"Of course, just bits and pieces as I was still very young, but I do."
"Then you will remember that people died. Your uncles, Fabian and Gideon, died. I do not want to scare you, but you need to know. Fabian and Gideon did not die easy deaths - they were tortured. They died gruesome deaths and suffered until the very end. Mr. Weasley, the state of the wizarding world is about to be unlike anything we have ever seen, Voldemort's new reign of terror has only begun. If you were ever compromised, if you were ever found out, you could not only die but you could die a painful death. I feel the need to implore you, Mr. Weasley, Percy, do not do this. Let me take you home, let us make up with your family, and then you can participate in this fight, surrounded by those you love."
Percy waged war within himself, all the while struggling to maintain composure under Dumbledore's steady gaze. He wanted to please Dumbledore. Certainly, the fear he now felt within his veins as he thought about the real risks of his espionage. Was he okay with dying? He sat with that notion for a moment and realized with a startled clarity that he was. His life was meaningless. Any future he held, where he didn't serve as a plant within the ministry for Dumbledore felt like a waste. Of course, he rationalized, if he died he would never be able to reap the benefits of his atonement. But that wouldn't matter, because then he could at least live on, loved by his parents in their memory. Even that was better than a life as perfect-prefect Percy.
"Sir, thank you for your concern. I hope you would allow me to be momentarily candid?" Percy began. Dumbledore nodded his head.
"I am not afraid of death. I fear never again being a part of my family. I fear the look in my brother's eyes whenever they see me when they know that I was a coward and denied the truth, that I stood on the wrong side of history. It is not enough for me to simply go home, confess my wrongdoing, and move on. In my cowardice, I have hurt people. I have supported a government whose inaction is, if it hasn't already, going to lead to the deaths of many people. I need to do this, both for myself and for the wizarding world as a whole. I am going to die eventually, be it from old age or from war. I want this life to have meaning. I want to have done right by my family and by my world."
Dumbledore nodded once again and he sighed deeply, the silver stars on his purple robes glinting in the light as his chest moved up and down. His brows furrowed, and he appeared deep in thought. Percy didn't break the silence. He had said what needed to be said, his future now rested with Dumbledore. As he waited, he rewarmed his coffee with his wand and began to sip on his drink. For once, he wished for something stronger within his mug. He had never been like Bill or Charlie, never drank anything stronger than the occasional butterbeer. But the long night and his conversation with Dumbledore now had him wishing to try Firewhiskey for the first time. He pushed this thought aside, and contented himself on the bitter warmth of his drink. Dumbledore's silence, it seemed, was not going to let up anytime soon.
Percy had almost finished his mug when Dumbledore began to speak once again. "Mr. Weasley, if you truly feel as you have stated," At this, Percy couldn't help but reply with a sharp nod.
Dumbledore continued, "Then I cannot in good conscience deny you. Not only does this mission you have selected for yourself serve your own desires, but it will also prove to be an invaluable asset within my organization." Dumbledore now cast a furtive look around the pub. There was no one there yet in the early hour but Madam Rosmerta. She appeared busy stocking up the bar and paying no attention to their conversation.
"You will meet me at the Hog's Head tomorrow evening at 9:15 PM. At that time, we will discuss the intricacies of our new alliance. I must leave now, we have already risked enough by meeting this morning in such a public location. If you need any assistance in establishing yourself, as I am sure the events of last night have provided you with some logistical challenges, please let me know. Good day, Mr. Weasley." With that Dumbledore got up and left, never looking back.