March 17, 1998

My weeks following Yaxley like a deluded dog were interspaced with the flashing thoughts of my overall goal.

I needed to get into his files.

It was the only thing that kept me moving forward.

Per the historical records of Azkaban, and Percy's analysis of Ministry standards and procedures regarding Azkaban as an active prison, it was likely Yaxley alone had access to the various files and blueprints related to Azkaban. How hard could it be to take them from his office? How hard would it be just to get a look at them and create a memory for extraction?

Very hard apparently. Yaxley barely left me alone long enough to be nosy and there were always other people around. The office had a routine that meant people I did not trust were always lurking about. If I went into the office unsupervised, someone would say something to Yaxley - who was actively looking for an excuse to turn me into a corpse. I had options, but I needed to be sure that the paperwork was there and I needed something big enough to separate Yaxley and most of the office from their desks.

Or… If I was feeling particularly vile…

No. I was not sure I could cast an unforgivable curse. To control another person involved overpowering their sense of self and I had an inkling that Yaxley knew, and enjoyed, the fact that he was a vile creature under a layer of civility to mask his cruelty. I doubted I would have the ability and skill to overpower that.

I took down more notes for Yaxley's meetings with the Minister for this week, my quill scratching quickly through the weekly diary as I bided my time in the main office. The other clerks around me never spoke to me, never looked at me. It was like I was already dead. Well, if anyone from MACUSA did something stupid I was as good as dead. Yaxley would torture me to insanity and send me home to Jack Graves an empty shell of a person. I would technically be alive, but I would prefer to be dead.

I did not blame the other clerks for already putting me out of their minds unless I was clearly stepping out of line. It was the kind of thing I would ask them to do if they asked me anything about it.

Today was going to be different.

I watched the clock tick on the wall, moving closer to my appointed lunch break, the office took rotating breaks so it was never truly empty and all the pieces of my plan began to fall into place.

It took time for me to get my hands on a few dung bombs for experiments. It took a few days longer for Tavish and I to put a working time spell on it while I searched for a proper hiding place and completed a particular potion for this event. I settled on a potted plant in the corridor, one big enough to hide the dung bomb in the dirt along with my carefully brewed potion. This dung bomb I had brought with me was particularly foul, but the smell alone would not keep people from the office. That dung bomb was a distraction, a decoy, for the real disaster.

I was not a talented potion maker, but an explosive potion was not beyond my skill. A high grade craft that was portable and looked vaguely like a headache remedy - which is how I had managed to sneak it into the Ministry. When it exploded, there was always fire and destruction in its wake. The explosion of the dung bomb should start a second reaction and blow the wall behind the plant where the water pipes for the Ministry ran through the building.

This would create a fantastic mess and would get Yaxley out of his office, he was single minded enough that this would hold his attention for a time.

I went about the remainder of my usual pre-lunch schedule, trying not to make my glances at the clock obvious.

Two minutes and fifteen seconds past the top of the hour there was a horrible bang that shook the floor accompanied by a terrible stench. I feigned shock, gripping the corner top of my desk with one hand as the other flew over my nose. Yaxley flung himself from his office with his wand in hand and rage in his eyes as the rest of the office crowded out the door to investigate. Yaxley left in such a hurry that the door to his office was still wide open. As the office cleared and the sound of rushing water flowed loudly under Yaxley's curses, I made my way into the office and tried not to gag on the smell that was finally entering the room.

Yaxley had a sparse, businesslike office, moreso by the fact he used me to file and arrange his office papers. I had ideas where he would keep the Azkaban records, there were a couple of options, but a man like Yaxley would want them close at hand... I would start at the desk.

'Alohomora!'

The lock clicked open and I quickly moved through a filing system I was far too familiar with as the screams outside the office continued.

I pulled out a file and opened it quickly.

Perfect! I'm a genius!

In my hands were the blueprints of the Azkaban Prison, each level labeled with cells and the names of occupants. Names that I recognized from the newspaper over the previous months. The prison itself was massive. With each paper I moved another took its place, showing me the vast dominion this place held on this island in the middle of the sea.

Getting there by broom would be possible, but leaving would be a problem. Carrying a weakened Valencia back to the mainland would be a detriment to the already exhausted Aurors, especially on windswept broomsticks. Thestral perhaps? The only herd of semi-domestic Thestrals was at Hogwarts. It might be possible… Thestrals were studier and might be better able to navigate through and around any remaining dementors around the prison.

I looked at the cell that held Valencia, taking in the location on the fourth floor and how it had a window that looked out to the raging sea. The floo code to reach Azkaban through the main office of the Law Enforcement Office and through Umbridge's for what was apparently communication purposes. I looked at the codes, doing everything I could to create clear, strong memories to be better accessed by better wizards. My job was to collect information, the fact I was doing it through memory did not make me less of a spy. Giving these memories to MACUSA was going to destroy my career. If word got beyond Elihu and his team, I would, rightfully, never be trusted near a seat of power again.

I would not be able to return to the Ministry after this. Acting on these documents would have to be my final act-

Wait. What was that?

Arrest Warrants

I better make sure Percy and I are not on the list.

I opened the files and checked them over quickly. Many of the names and files had already been embossed with a bloodred stamp, stating that they had been arrested for crimes such as 'Falsifying Documents to Benefit Mudbloods, the Theft of Magical Power' being the two main accusations of this fascist regime.

Weasley, Arthur -

Something inside me froze. We knew Arthur was being watched, it did not take a genius to guess such a thing, but Percy and I were sure that they would never arrest him. The Weasley's were a Sacred Twenty-Eight family, as much as they ignored it, but the refusal to engage in the pureblood nonsense had always marked them as eccentric. Arthur had really been left alone for the last several months, he lived in an strange no man's land of politics, too odd for the regime to place him as a full rebel, but too important to their purist ideology to remove entirely from the equation.

…Warrant issued for Arthur Weasley (Age 48) and his immediate family. Including wife Molly (Age 49, Housewife, seasonal vendor at the Wizard Farmers Market) sons William 'Bill' Arthur (Age 27, Charles Septimus (Age 25 - Location unknown, employed by Romanian Dragon Reserve), Frederick Gideon and George Fabian (Twins, Age 20- Owners of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley), Ronald Bilius (Age 18 - Potentially home with Spattergroit - this is in doubt per rumored sightings, suspected to be on the run with Harry James Potter and known Mudblood Hermione Jean Granger), and Ginevra Molly (Age 16 - Hogwarts Student, Gryffindor House. Known troublemaker and detractor).

Well… That's messy. I kept reading.

Family known to be close to Undesirable Number 1 (aka Harry James Potter) - wanted for the murder of Albus Dumbledore. Reward for capture with the wand is 200,000 Galleons. Per the accounts of Hogwarts students, Ginevra dated Potter for roughly four months?

That lines up with what Percy told me, it's not new information, but why issue the arrest warrant now?

Due to Potter's lack of contact with the family, and the sheer number of Weasleys, efforts to contain and manage the Weasleys have been unsuccessful. Arresting as many as possible once the daughter returns home from Hogwarts should control the rest.

That could imply many things.

There was a plan in place for the arrest of the family, ambushing the family on their return home from the train station to collect their daughter. The station would be too crowded to enact the arrest on the spot, Arthur was well-known, a popular figure in his own right and the idea of martyring the family was an abhorrent one. If it was to lure out Potter, it needed to be front page news on the Ministry's terms. They needed full control of the narrative.

I closed the file and got to my feet, erasing the traces of myself with a whispered spell and reapplying the locking charms to the desk drawer.

My last act at the Ministry was not going to be collecting information on Azkaban for MACUSA - it was going to be passing a warning to Percy's father about the danger he was in. I was loath to make Valencia wait, but this could wait until I was out of the Ministry. I could give the knowledge to Percy as well, for security.

Arthur Weasley takes lunch in his office. I had a real opportunity to pass on the message and make my case if he, justifiably, had doubts about my sincerity.

I returned to my desk to gather up my papers, trying not to gag from the stench and to still my shaking hands. These were pointless documents, all things that needed to be filed away as mindless busywork, but it was still too early to take them down because they were not signed. It will be someone else's problem after today.

Yes. It would be someone else's problem.

It did not matter anymore.

None of this had ever mattered.

I passed a short glance at the unfolding chaos I had caused before turning away as if I saw fire, water and screaming panic everyday and had learned to ignore it as more people assembled to help contain the flow of water from the pipes and put out the fires along the walls and try to locate the source of the horrible smell.

I felt like a mad genius. Something about the chaos around me soothed my burdened soul like a balm applied to a wound.

Slipping away at last was an easy thing, too much chaos, too much unrest and I was due to leave or lunch anyway. No one would pay me any mind for leaving a little late after everything that happened in the last few minutes.

I left Yaxley screaming at a maintenance wizard who seemed determined to be slow about stopping the flow of surging water from the pipes in an act of spite.

Taking the long way down past the law offices to catch the elevator seemed a suitable victory lap and would align with what I believed to be Arthur's lunch break. It would be a quiet walk down and I could plan what exactly I was going to say to him. It was dangerous to offer blind trust these days and Arthur was smart enough not to offer it.

I found my way to the back corridor and began the winding walk past some of the now empty offices and full storage rooms. It allowed me a chance to woolgather.

Could I play the Dumbledore card? Do I mention Percy? Should I just bluntly tell him that his family was in real danger and he needed to go into hiding as soon as possible? Any reasonable person would treat me with suspicion.

I walked past the law offices, holding my nose at the idea of law entrenched bureaucrats in this disturbing saga of injustice and everything that had been allowed through back door dealing in the last several months and maybe even years before that. Corruption and law went hand-in-hand these days.

As I walked past the offices, I heard a door open behind me and a voice that I despised echoed through the corridor.

"Miss Graves!"

Oh great!

Harrow Avery appeared as if he had managed to apparate into the Ministry of Magic itself, despite the sheer impossibility of it. I noted the open door that led to one of the offices that I had no reason to be in. Lucinda was a frequent visitor to the law offices before the fall of the Ministry. Lucinda had allies there once, now they answered to the Avery family and the money they offered to sway the legalese.

Harrow reached my side, putting away his own officially stamped manila folder and I was suddenly trapped in a social expectation of politeness. It was sheer instinct that caused me to plaster on a smile and force excitement and joy to my voice. The usual pleasantries slipping from me, well rehearsed and managing to sound sincere to my own ears.

As Harrow gave his usual greetings, asking after my health and that of Lucinda in this silly social dance we were doing far too often. I looked past Harrow to watch a law clerk pop out of the office to switch their sign to Open before retreating to the safety of the office. I was trying to decide what sort of animal he reminded me of. A hermit crab? A barracuda coming out of a reef for a snake? A groundhog like Punxsutawney Phil?

I decided the law clerk did look like a groundhog as the momentary distraction ended as Harrow slipped fully into my line of sight. He moved closer to me, looming over me with a firm, smug sort of expression I was not sure I could place. "Where are you off too?"

"Taking these papers to be filed for Yaxley," It was not as if I could hide that overmuch. I needed to save my lies for later, but Harrow could have the truth of this. It would be easier to lie later as needed with the grain of truth behind me, plus it was the perfect excuse to beg myself away.

"Ah, Yaxley is a bit of a demanding sort isn't he?"

"I'm afraid so." This was a delicate question, a dangerous dance on the thin ice of alliance and party policy. "He's very insistent on having his way."

Before I could say anything else, offer polite excuses about the urgency of my departure, Harrow spoke again, cutting across my words like a knife through butter as he moved closer to me.

"I think I'll walk over with you."

The quiet, stern tone of his voice would broker no argument and I had no excuses to offer. I was clearly on my way to the elevator.

There were a few moments of silence as we moved away from the law offices and towards the lift. It was a companionable silence until Harrow broke it.

"We've decided the best course of action for Thornell is to remove Lucinda from the home."

I had no opportunity to register my shock or even to voice it at the moment. The idea of Thornell without Lucinda was like the loss of a limb. Lucinda and the house were entwined in my mind. I was getting a lot of information in a short span of time and it was not going well.

"My mother has found suitable accommodations for her in a proper wizarding village in the north."

Biting my tongue was becoming a pastime, it was no longer a hobby I found engaging.

"Come again?"

Harrow seemed to be preening himself in satisfaction as he followed me to the elevator. I fiddled aimlessly with my files as I hit the button to call the mechanical monstrosity, my tongue dropping somewhere into my stomach as Harrow began to speak.

"I own Thornell in all but occupancy." He tapped the pocket where he had put his folder with an expansion charm. "Lucinda is old and frail. I don't know why this is so hard for you to grasp."

His tone was almost playful, teasing, but he was clearly in a mood. Harrow's as tired of this game we're playing as I am. We have danced around it for too long and why did it have to be now?

Think Audrey. You are much better at that than Harrow is.

"I'm struggling to grasp your lack of compassion for an elderly woman. Forcing her out would bring her back to haunt you in less than six months."

Harrow nodded sagely, "True, but what can a ghost accomplish?"

Sheer annoyance with the gift of time?

Lucinda would take a page out of Callum's book and lurk at the edges of the Avery family's sight at every family function, every conversation and be utterly silent and judgmental instead of just nosy. They would find her silence and constant presence far more annoying than anything else and it would be harder to build a case of haunting harassment.

I had better make sure that is not in Lucinda's plans - I would hate to have Aunt Araminta come to Britain to try and cross Lucinda over to the beyond. That would be very awkward.

"How long until you can accomplish this?"

Stay calm.

"Would you not need Lucinda's consent to move to a place of your mother's choosing?"

You can handle this.

"Well," Harrow paused, seeming almost thoughtful, perhaps contemplative and almost kind if I imagined that to be in his nature after this discussion, adjusting the sleeves of his black robes. "I doubt she would want a life with newlyweds underfoot."

"Ah, are you engaged?"

Please say yes so you'll stay away from me forever.

"I could be. I could be wed within the hour, with the presence of the witch in question."

Oh thank Merlin!

Before I could do something as base as offer my congratulations and inquire after the girl, the levity of Harrow potentially falling so hard and fast in love he removed all idea of me from his mind.

"You would no longer have to see this ugliness if you married me."

I must have misheard him, I started playing with the bangle bracelets on my wrist nervously. "I'm sorry?"

"I heard about what happened." There was sympathy in his tone, an undercurrent of quiet rage that was offset by his weak chin and general lack of presence in the world. "Yaxley was out of line, but you have no real protection from his whinging fits clearly, even with my discussions with him on the matter."

Was Harrow the reason I had not been treated worse in the days after Elihu had come to the Ministry? My standing as property to a Sacred Twenty-Eight family?

Harrow continued on. "The influence of your father does not exist here and Lucinda… Well, the Ainsley's never had much of a family name to use."

I stayed quiet, letting Harrow talk as the elevator came into sight. There was no one else around.

"I know this is not a romantic proposition, but things for you are dangerous, even with my sway over Yaxley as a Ministry doner and my previous attempts always seem to be interrupted."

How strange! It's almost like I was trying to will some chaos to your flirtation.

I could feel his eyes peering at me, piercing me in a way that left me cold and numb in something akin to dread. Socially awkward situations tended to do that to a body.

Before I could try to gracefully and hurriedly put an end to this proposition - this war needed to end so Percy and I could be public with our relationship, other people were getting more ridiculous by the day! Harrow began to speak again.

"I have the money Thornell requires. You have a more than suitable bloodline and powerful connections to make up for the Ainsley's lack of wealth. Not to mention whatever your father would provide you as a dowry." He had grasped my hand and in the silent, small world of the empty corridor I had nowhere to run. No errands to attend to and no one to distract Harrow with. "Also, men of my good fortune should have pretty wives."

He was not letting go and I struggled to quietly extract myself, failing miserably as the shock of it all came to fruition in my mind.

"Harrow," I chose my words carefully, "If you're going to remove Lucinda from Thornell, I must go with her to care for her. She's so frail. I'm sure you can find someone else-"

The lift doors opened and Harrow pulled me inside while my wand gave its low hum of danger and warning. I quickly pressed the button to my destination floor as I passed it.

I was half pushed, half pressed against the wall of the lift, Harrow was too close and I was boxed in and unable to escape. I tried to look away, turn my head to look at a corner and think about how old this carpet was when he put his other hand on my face to force me to look at him.

"Do you think my feelings can be so easily swayed?" His voice rose slightly in rage. "That I would give up on the pinnacle of women? I have money! Influence and power! I can offer you protection-"

His words fell to my deafened, shocked ears. It was just the two of us in a moment that stretched on for far too long. The time I had to look into Harrow's eyes and see the thing I now recognized as lust left me disgusted and horrified, inclinations to hide myself overwhelmed me. A desire to flee. To fight back if he touched me anywhere else. The glimmers of madness in his face as his eyes moved over my body and his hand clutched mine tighter.

"There are so few respectable pure-blood women with proper lineage. You're an overlooked gem of everything this new world finally values! Our marriage pool is too small as it is - if we must rely on foreign blood then I want the best!"

Anger swirled and grew inside me, like a hurricane battering on the doors of a seaside shack, clattering, clanking, creaking and a roar in my ears. I never supported any of this- it was propaganda crafted to put insecure, pathetic people at the top and crush the majority of the population through the tyranny of a fringe extremist minority.

No. I was done.

I was beyond caring. I just needed to get out of this elevator.

The elevator doors opened, there was a glimpse of someone in the opening door and the words flew from my lips with such venom I would have been surprised by it in better times.

"Maybe you would have a larger marriage pool if you stopped fucking your cousins!"

Harrow's hand moved so quickly that I barely registered the initial pain of the blow over the way my head bounced against the wall of the elevator. The way my body crumpled to the floor enforced exactly what kind of world I was living in now if I had any doubts remaining.

The shock of the blow left me cold and slightly deaf to the world around me as I tried to grasp hold of my consciousness and force it to remain. I could see light and shadow, but it was shapeless and meaningless to my eyes as my head rang from the force of the impact. The torture curse was worse, but this was such an intimate violence that it was more shocking than being tortured.

I could barely hear what was being said above me, but I did register Harrow backing off as the man who witnessed the event drew his wand, clearly threatening Harrow in ways it would probably be best I did not know about.

A hand had reached out to me, the man attached to it speaking softly, but firmly as he helped me to my feet and out of the lift. Supporting me efforts to get out of the lift on shaking legs while he kept his wand pointed at Harrow, only taking it off of him to press the button to close the lift doors. I felt Harrow's eyes boring into the back of my head, not daring to follow behind this man who had shown a propensity to stand up to bullies and tyrants that Harrow did not appreciate.

"Thank you…" I said quietly as I pulled my hand away from my head to find it pink with blood. A bit surprising, I was sure my thick hair would have lessened the impact of Harrow's blow. My eyes struggled to focus, the only thing that cleared a pathway to my mind was the receding line of red hair.

My head continued to rattle and ring from the strike as Arthur Weasley helped me to his office and away from Harrow.

Arthur was not a woman and therefore not a target of Harrow's misogyny.

I did not find myself able to pay too much attention or mind to the walk, there was really nothing to see. It was all empty hallways and people who closed the door to their private offices long ago at the sound of angry voices from the lift. I barely paid any mind to the walk to Arthur's office. It was still crowded with strange artifacts, I remembered it from my previous visit here almost… two years ago, wasn't it? It seemed much longer. There were messy filing cabinets, boxes of strange muggle items that only served to confuse me further in the rattled state I was in.

Wait? Hadn't Arthur been promoted to a larger office and department under Scrimgeour? Something about enchanted items? I guess he had gotten demoted in the last year to his old position- even if it was a meaningless one to this administration who had no interest in protecting the nonmagical- it was a way to keep Arthur contained and watched. A meaningless job with a title and a paycheck to keep coming back into the Ministry's sight.

"Are you alright?" Arthur guided me to a chair and allowed me the chance to sit down, or fall down into it as my legs finally gave out from the falling surge of adrenaline. The tip of his wand glowed as he started applying a healing spell to my head. I was not sure it would help the concussion, but I could feel the skin of my scalp stitching back together.

He reminded me of Percy, there was something firm and steady in Arthur that I found comforting. Opinionated and sure of himself in the same way his son was, I could see how they could have a fight as nasty as the one I had glimpsed when Percy and I were learning Occlumency together. Men and their pride were constantly making my life more difficult than it needed to be.

It made me confident that I needed to ignore the question. Arthur was as much of a ticking dung bomb as I was in some ways. Our days at the Ministry were, in Arthur's case, literally numbered.

"You need to leave."

Arthur looked confused.

"You're being watched." My voice was low and cold. I sounded like my father when he was managing a political upstart. I swayed slightly in my seat as I spoke. "They're going to lock you all up."

I could see Arthur's eyes widening behind his glasses, his brow furrowing in realization at the fact I was more a messenger than a victim. A clock ticked ominously in the corner.

"Your days here are literally numbered." The healing spell on my head was soothing the pain of the blow - clearing my mind and giving me a sense of power empowered by my own rage and shock at the event that had passed in the elevator, a hot sense of wrongness and injustice that needed someplace to go. "Get the girl off the train and disappear. I don't care where you go, just don't be found."

"How do you know this?" Arthur asked, an aggressive suspicion to his tone. I could not blame him for it. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You think I'm with them?" The assumption only filled me with a quiet rage. "No."

If my father loves me in his messy way, Arthur would do no less for his only daughter. Percy learned his softness from a loving household, I learned how to be hard in an ambitious family. Being cold came naturally to me in a way, it got my point across in nasty ways. A cold, harsh tone that reminded me of my father, but distinctly my own, because Jack Graves would have never survived a situation like this.

"If Harrow just did that to me, imagine what they'll do with your daughter?" I paused, the low, dangerous, whispery tone of my voice sounded eerie in the still office. "She was dating Potter right?"

That seemed to snap Arthur to the danger I was speaking of.

"Take your family and run. Get the girl and don't return home. They've been hoping you will lure Potter out of hiding but they've run out of patience."

Arthur was a man at war with himself, he believed me, but I was a foreigner who had been cozy in the upper echelons of the Ministry for far too long.

"When did you have a change of heart?" Arthur's tone was cool and I had to roll my eyes in disbelief. "You've been comfortable up in the Minister's Office for years."

"As a political pawn!" You stupid, stupid man! "I'm the only thing keeping President Graves from sending dragons to turn this idiot country into a colony! If Graves moves, I'll be killed!" Something from the previous week came to mind. "But you already know that… You were there when the MACUSA Embassy arrived." I swayed slightly in my seat, my head throbbing once more with an oncoming headache and a combination of my own rage and exhaustion. "You were pulling people away."

There was another way. Percy and his family had split over conflicting views of the Ministry and Dumbledore. I needed Arthur's trust, and if that trust was born of fear and threat then so be it.

"Dumbledore helped me find my brother." The pieces were falling into place to quickly have Arthur's trust. "I can't repay him for that, but saving your lives seems a just repayment."

There was something in Arthur's face, a slight parting of his lips and a quick flash of recognition I was not sure I was able to place. I kept my meeting with Dumbledore a secret, something close to me that unveiled more than I could have imagined in the weeks that followed. I would not disrespect Arthur by reading his mind when I could see enough on his face. It was time to lay down my cards.

I laughed quietly, feeling near insane from the stress of the last several minutes. "Dumbledore trusted my judgment with no bonds of magic or sorcery to bind me to my word between us." I paused letting my words settle in the room between us. "Is the trust you had in Dumbledore misplaced, Mr. Weasley?"

By the Twelve, he looked offended.

"How dare you-!"

I ignored him, I had bruised his pride and I had no energy or kindness left in me to sooth it. "You trusted your life to his judgment while he lived, trust me now and you can spare your family all the pain Yaxley has inflicted on me."

Oh, now he looks weary of me, I may have overplayed my hand.

It was a quiet moment where Arthur stared at me, seeming to take in the wounded physical shell of the woman before him. Perhaps seeing as much of me in the moment as I was of him. He probably saw someone sly, manipulative and playing in his pitch for the moment. Someone who may have planned that encounter in the elevator to have a reason to speak with him. A wise man in that regard, I was never one to let good opportunities slip away and I felt it was a fair judgment under the circumstances - regard the gift horse with suspicion.

I thought Arthur was a man who had a level of understanding of the world and too much pride to submit himself to its expectations. He had a level of security in himself that could make me envious if I was less sure of who I was. This war had changed me in ways I was not sure I would understand until later in life. There was something ferocious and settled about Arthur Weasley and it was worth regarding with respect and fear - he knows who he is and what he wants in life. He's willing to risk his life for his principles.

"Thank you," his voice was low and I felt myself relax slightly in the chair as he moved to putter around his office, wordlessly telling me to leave. "I will make sure everything is in place."

"What of Percy?"

Arthur stopped moving. A man frozen at the mention of his estranged son and I knew before Arthur spoke that Percy may never be reunited with his family after this. Arthur had something cunning to him and I doubted Percy would ever find them once Arthur disappeared.

"He's chosen his side."

And I've chosen mine.

"You're going to nurse that wound for the rest of your life?"

There was not another word from Arthur and if Arthur reached out to Percy in the coming days, we would be ready to leave. If not, then Percy and I would follow through with our own plans.

We're at quits, Mr. Weasley. I won't be sticking my neck out for you again.

When I left Arthur's office, I knew that my time at the Ministry was coming to an end. Percy was right, it was past time I went into hiding. I had done all I could. It was time I disappeared and perhaps tried to take a more active role in whatever came next. I could prepare for whatever form fleeing Britain would take for us and those we cared for. Harrow was going to make me miserable in any case and it would be best to never see him again- if that was how he would treat me in public, I could not imagine what it would be like in private.

There were a couple of small things I needed to finish today- it would be best to make the rest of my day look perfectly normal and never come back here until the regime fell.

I had to believe it would.

But I was going to misfile so many papers on my way out of here.

Oo0Oo0

Author's Note: Fascism is bad for everyone, but women and minorities get the bad stuff first.

Next chapter is going up on the Sep 15, I need some draft work done on some of the next chapters. If I keep that momentum this story should be done by July 2025, I'm debating a return to weekly updates once I get more draft work done, but I may be looking for another job in the next couple of months. We'll see what happens. :)