Minor sexual assault at the end of the chapter.

By "minor" I mean it's not alluded to, it's not referenced, it is on screen. Not graphic (per my The Writer's) standards, but I know everyone has a different level of tolerance.

Please read at your own risk. You know your own boundaries better than I do.

Percy was glad that the Wizengamot had insisted on questioning Crouch and not letting Crouch get away with sending Percy to represent him. Still, he was forced to attend the tense Wizengamot meeting, take notes, and help Crouch when necessary. Thankfully, it had not been necessary. Yet. With the amount of time Crouch had been out of the office and Percy had been sent to represent him, he was beyond relieved that he was not being called out.

Everyone seemed to have an opinion on what had happened. Already, Percy had overheard Fudge's undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, disparage Harry as if she knew him personally and could make such comments.

"He should be sharply questioned," he had heard Umbridge say to another ministry worker. "Children like that will meet a bad end if they aren't corrected swiftly."

Percy was certain that he never wanted that woman to get married and have children.

Returning to the matter at hand, Percy watched as his grandfather rose from his seat, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

"I concur with my esteemed colleagues," Lord Weasley said, gesturing broadly to the Wizengamot. A part of his gaze seemed to stay on Sirius who had shown up for this Wizengamot meeting. Percy was pretty certain he spent half his time going back and forth from Britain to Switzerland for continued outpatient treatment. At least, that's what he assumed based off conversations he had heard his parents having.

"However," Lord Weasley continued, "I speak now, not just as a member of the Wizengamot, but as ICW representative."

There were some grumblings from the members. Percy watched as Crouch fought to keep his composure. Crouch did not like ICW getting involved in his department. An ongoing point of tension within the ministry.

"The International Confederation of Wizards will be instigating an investigation into the Triwizard Tournament," Lord Weasley said. Several people cried out in protest. "Including a probe into the British Ministry's Department of International Cooperation and the Department of Magical Games and Sports. According to information I and my new partner, Lord Prince, have received, both Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman signed off on paperwork detailing the changes made to the magical contract that is bound to the Goblet of Fire. Changes that we now know were never actually made."

Now more people were shouting, this time at the two heads of department. Bagman looked like he wanted to disappear into his chair while Crouch remained stiff and tense in his seat, sharp eyes glaring at Lord Weasley and the newest representative to the ICW, Lord Jeremiah Prince, only chosen by the Wizengamot a day ago.

"There is no reason for the ICW to get involved in a ministry matter!" Crouch cried.

"A ministry matter?" Sirius barked, leaning forward in his seat.

"You signed off on paperwork stating that you had changed the contract," Lord Prince said, not even needing to raise his voice to quiet everyone in the room. Percy did not know much about the man or the Prince family in general. He knew the family was pretty reclusive, did not go out into society much, and that Lord Prince was a Guild Master for the potion's guild in Europe. He also knew that Lord Prince was older than his grandparents.

"Therefore," the man continued, voice deep and sultry. It reminded Percy a little bit of Professor Snape's voice. "We can only conclude that you lied. That in of itself, is cause for investigation. Not just from the ICW, but from the Wizengamot itself."

More shouting. Minister Fudge banged his gavel calling for order, but at this point, there was none to be had. Throwing up his hands, Fudge called for a motion to adjourn until tomorrow which was quickly seconded and agreed upon. Percy scrambled after Crouch as the man all but bolted out of the Wizengamot chamber, fleeing back to the department offices.

"You're in charge, Weasley," Crouch said, shoving some documents into his briefcase.

"What?" Percy cried. "But, Mr. Crouch! We're bound to have people coming in and—,"

"I'm sure you can hold them off," Crouch answered. "Bring a report of the day to my house. Four o'clock." He disappeared out of the office, leaving Percy standing by his own desk, rather bewildered. What sort of report did Crouch want him to bring? A report of who showed up at the office looking for him? A report of who ended up shouting at Percy, because he was quite certain that with Crouch gone, there would be several people yelling at him instead.

Slumping in the chair at his desk, Percy stared at the ceiling, wondering if working in this department was worth it, and if maybe he could transfer somewhere else. At the same time, though, staying meant he could get recognition for doing a good job when Crouch all but abandoned his post. He knew he was already getting recognized in the ministry for it. Doing a good job here would open more doors than transferring to another entry-level desk job.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of lords Weasley and Prince.

"You won't find him in his office," Percy called as they knocked on the closed door. "He's gone home."

"Bloody coward," Lord Weasley muttered. "I wouldn't be half as angry if he would at least face his poor job like a true wizard." He scowled at the closed door before turning sharply to Percy and stalking up to his desk. Percy hurried to straighten himself and his robes.

"Jeremiah," the man said, gesturing to Percy. Percy was not sure if the gesture was of pride or dismissal, his grandfather could be so difficult to read sometimes! "This is one of my grandsons, Percival Weasley."

"Just Percy, my lord," Percy said, holding out a hand as he stood. Lord Prince shook his hand firmly.

"Percival is an adequate name," Lord Weasley muttered.

"I hadn't realized Bilius had any children this young," Lord Prince commented.

"Ah . . . he doesn't. This is one of Arthur's boys."

"I see. And how many years out of Hogwarts are you, Percy?"

"Less than one, sir. I graduated this past June."

"And you're essentially running this entire department on your own?"

Percy aborted a shrug at his grandfather's sharp glance in favor of nodding.

"Percival interned with Dumbledore at ICW last summer," Lord Weasley said. "Made quite a name for himself among the interns. Or so I've heard. If any of my own interns were to be believed."

"I'm sure they were just being kind," Percy answered. "There were a great many minds interning last summer. I'm still in contact with a few from America."

"I'm surprised you didn't put your name in for a position in Geneva," Lord Prince said.

"I wanted to get some more work experience before I do," Percy explained.

"Interim Head of the Department of International Cooperation is quite an achievement for one so young," Lord Prince said. Percy tried not to gape. His grandfather snorted.

"Don't frighten the boy, Jeremiah," Lord Weasley admonished. "This isn't what he signed up for when he took on the position as Mr. Crouch's assistance."

"I fear 'other duties as assigned' was a bit of an understatement," Percy agreed. Lord Prince chuckled, his serious face splitting as a smirk crossed his lips.

"I can see that you have a bright future ahead of you, Mr. Weasley," Lord Prince said. "When can we expect Mr. Crouch to return?"

"Perhaps tomorrow?"

"Typical of him. Running away from his problems. Very well. Please let us know when Crouch returns to office. I am certain he would prefer to speak to us rather than whomever ICW will send should he continue to avoid us."

"Of course, my lord. I'll be sure to relay the message."

A little before 4 o'clock Percy apparated to Symonds Yat, walking past the welcome sign and through the wards to keep Muggles out. As he walked, he looked down on the River Wye and the setting sun, the sky a myriad of pink and red and orange overlayed by purple clouds so dark they almost appeared gray. Crouch's Georgian styled home was as picturesque as ever in the setting sun, though now the ivy was leafless and the flowers that had been around the house were gone. A sharp, cold breeze blew brown leaves left over from the autumn in front of Percy as he approached, and he thought he imagined the wind blowing one of the curtains of an upstairs window. He stepped up to the white door with the little arbor over it and went to knock, only for the door to swing open before he could.

"Welcome, Master Wheezes," Winky greeted as Percy stepped into the house. A sudden, unexpected chill went up his spine as the door closed behind him. "Master Crouch says when Mister Wheezes comes, I is to take you to his study," Winky pattered through the front hallway past the parlor, moving deeper into the house. Now they passed portraits of Crouch ancestors, most of them eyeing Percy as he passed, but not attempting to greet him. There was judgement in some of their eyes, and curiosity in others.

Winky knocked on a dark oak door and it swung open, revealing an office styled in dark tones. It was every bit a standard wizard's home office. The woodwork was dark, the rug a deep crimson with dark gold accents, even the landscape paintings were moody. One painting was of a boat caught in a storm with sailors attempting to keep the boat from capsizing. Another was of an Alps landscape with storm clouds coming into the valley in the distance.

"Punctual as ever, Mr. Weasley," Crouch said, rising from behind his desk. He was, once again, dressed casually as if he had been taking the day off instead of having fled his office to avoid confrontation. "Please set the reports on my desk. Care for a drink?" He crossed over to drink cart.

"That's all, Winky."

The house elf squeaked and popped away leaving Percy alone with his boss. He watched as the man poured two fingers of firewhiskey for them both.

"I shouldn't . . ." Percy tried to say, only Crouch cut him off.

"It's far too early for you to be going home to get ready for a date," he said. Percy's mouth clicked shut. What in Merlin's name?

"And besides," Crouch continued, stepping closer to Percy, holding out a tumbler. "Puddlemere is in Spain playing an international friendly. And Mr. Wood was with them when they took their international portkey."

The office was suddenly too hot and too cold at the same time. Percy's breath hitched as Crouch pressed the tumbler into his hand. He gripped the glass, willing his hands not to tremble.

"How did you know that?" he asked, cursing how the trembling had fled his hands to come out in his voice.

"I'm the Head of the Department of International Cooperation," Crouch answered, sipping at his own drink with a growing smirk. "And I've recently been working very closely with Ludo Bagman, you must know of him? Head of the Department of Magical Sports? We collaborate to ensure smooth travel for Quidditch teams in and out of the United Kingdom."

A transfer to another department was looking a lot more inviting now.

Sipping at the firewhiskey, Percy coughed at the burning sensation that ran down his throat. He remembered the first time he had tried firewhiskey. Oliver had snuck firewhiskey in at the beginning of their seventh year and they had opened the bottle after the first Gryffindor victory after the celebrations in the common room. It was not his favorite drink, but he could stomach it in small doses.

Crouch stared at him over the top of his own tumbler as Percy finished knocking back the drink. The faster he finished it, the faster he could get out of the house.

Setting the empty tumbler down on the desk, the glass thudding hard against the hardwood, Percy gestured to the door.

"Thank you for the drink, Mr. Crouch, but I should be going—,"

The door slammed in his face just as he reached it. Percy whirled around, reaching for his wand.

"Expelliarmus!"

Percy's wand flew from his hand before he could get a syllable of his own spell out, right into Crouch's hand. Sweat prickled at the back of Percy's neck as he watched a growing smirk cross his boss' face.

"Give me back my wand, Mr. Crouch," Percy ordered. Crouch chuckled as he circled his desk, opening a drawer. Percy lunged for his wand, only for Crouch to drop the wand into the drawer and slam it shut, just barely missing slamming Percy's fingers in the top. Percy scrambled to open the drawer, but it would not budge.

"That's my special drawer," Crouch said, taking a final, draining sip from his own tumble of firewhiskey. "Only opens to me." He lifted a hand to grip Percy's chin, but Percy jerked away. Anger and fear warred within Percy as he mustered up his fiercest glare towards the man in front of him.

"Dumbledore did say he thought you'd give me a good fight," Crouch continued. "Said you'd started getting a bit . . . forgetful. Of your place."

"I'd like to leave," Percy stated, eyeing Crouch's wand warily. "Give me my wand."

"You'll leave when I say you can," Crouch snapped, suddenly crowding Percy until he stumbled back against the wall. The older man jabbed his wand into the fleshy underpart of Percy's chin. Percy winced, moving as if to grab Crouch's wand hand, but aborting the move just before contact, lowering his hands back to his side, pressing his nails against the wall behind him.

"Good," Crouch murmured. "So, you can remember your place."

"You . . . you won't get away with this," Percy said, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. "I'll speak up. Say something."

"Like you said something about Dumbledore?"

"You're on thin ice at the ministry," Percy retorted, grimacing as the man pressed the tip of his wand further into his chin. "One wrong move and you'd be out."

"I might be on thin ice," Crouch murmured, pressing his body against Percy. Percy squirmed, aware of the man's bulge pressing against him. "But I've still got friends. And favors. Favors that could see both you and . . . perhaps . . . your father blacklisted from the ministry. Not even Lord Weasley could undo it. Not that he would want to. Everyone knows he and Arthur haven't spoken since your parents married, and he certainly would not want to step in for a grandson who seduced his boss."

Percy sputtered. Crouch laughed.

"I can see Rita Skeeter now," he said, lowering his wand, trailing its tip down Percy's chest. "A young Hogwarts graduate seduces boss in hopes of advancing his ministry career. No matter how much you denied it, those allegations would follow you forever. And that'll harm you in a way that'll never harm me."

The tip of his wand teased the top of Percy's trousers.

"And what about Mr. Wood?" Crouch continued. "Do you think a rising Quidditch star such as he would want to be connected to such scandal? Or his family?"

No. Oh, Percy knew that Oliver might try for a while, but Crouch was correct. Oliver needed a favorable public image if he intended to continue his pursuit of professional Quidditch. It was the way of the wizarding world. The actions of family or close friends impacted how people perceived you. Who your family aligned with could make or break connections. It's why his dad and grandfather didn't speak. If Crouch spun the story well enough to make Percy out to be a seducer, then people would question, not only Percy and Oliver's relationship, but Oliver himself. People might think Oliver was similar to Percy, that he too might attempt to seduce his way to the top.

Tears finally sprung to Percy's eyes. Crouch laughed.

"I see you're coming around to my way of thinking," he said. He stepped away enough to give himself room to open his trousers. Percy immediately look away, palms suddenly sweaty. His nails were still pressing into the wall at his back, the pain barely registering.

The pain that did register came from his knees. Crouch grabbed his shoulders and shoved him to the floor, his knees hitting the hard wood with loud thuds.

Fingers wrapped around his red curls. Crouch manhandled his head until Percy was forced to look at the cock in front of him. Crouch jerked his hips, poking Percy's face with him member. Percy jerked back, face twisting in disgust, but the grip on his hair tightened and he felt hair pull from his scalp.

"None of that now," Crouch growled. "I've been assured that filing is not the only thing you're good at."

"Please," Percy whimpered. He couldn't do this! He had left it behind at Hogwarts. He was supposed to be free of this!

Crouch boxed his ear with his other hand before pressing the tip of his wand into Percy's cheek.

"Enough, Percival!" he snapped. "Open your goddamn mouth and suck!"