Quidditch League Season 10
Round 9, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Team: Wigtown Wanderers
Position: Chaser 3
Prompt: Percy
Additional Prompts: 8. [restriction] write in first person; 9. [song] The Sound of Silence by Disturbed ; 14. [genre] angst
Title: Prodigal
Summary: A monologue of Percy's musings on rules.
Warnings: None
Topics/Tags: Angst, Monologue, Post-War
Author's Note/Word Count: I did manage to make direct reference to The Sound of Silence but also chose to focus on the themes of the song: resistance, the dangers of indifference, and failures in communication. I'm glad I got to use this song somehow because I'm in love with Disturbed's cover. Side note, have you seen Nyle DiMarco dance to it on Dancing with the Stars? Word Count 1137
I've always been a stickler for the rules. Rules are put in place for a reason, after all; they exist to keep the world around us a safe place for everyone, to govern, and to provide guidelines for living. To break the rules is to defy the best interests of all people. Or at least, that's what I've always believed.
I grew up confident in my intelligence, my determination to make something of myself, and my compliance with the expectations placed on me. Growing up just shy of impoverished, at least I had characteristics that could help me climb out. So I worked hard; took all the classes I could, accepted nothing from myself but the highest grades, and jumped at the opportunity to work under one of the most well known names in the Ministry of Magic.
My first boss couldn't remember my name to save his life, even though my father had worked for the ministry for years. But this was just the beginning. I believed it would get better, surely. Anyone going into the workforce for the first time has to prove themselves an asset, with potentially inattentive bosses assigning the newbie all the grunt work. But I was willing to do it all. By showing up whenever needed, being willing to go above and beyond my job description, and following the ministry's policies and procedures, I would move up in the ranks of ministry employees. I had the brains and passion to become Minister of Magic, and I was determined to make my name Percy Ignatus Weasley mean something to the world.
I've always been a stickler for the rules and working for the Ministry only increased that. Especially as I considered that doing well in my first job could mean contributing to new rules in the future. Because, though rules exist for a purpose, there is always room for improvement on the ones in practice.
Before long, I had moved up in the Ministry much faster than even I had anticipated. After the untimely death of my first boss Barty Crouch, my position shifted and I became the Junior Assistant to the Minister for Magic. And I found out just how many rule breakers there were in reality. My brother's best friend was one of the worst, Harry Potter himself. No longer was Potter just a delinquent at school, now he was constantly on the Ministry's radar for causing mischief. Sure, Cedric Diggory's death was tragic, I remember him quite well, seeing as he was just a year under me. But to spread rumors and terror that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned? It had been a horrendous thing to do. And I urged Ron to have some sense, to steer clear of Potter, but to no avail.
Before long, my rift with Ron extended to my entire family. My father insisted that my promotion to Minister's Assistant was only a ploy to spy on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's opposition, especially Potter and Dumbledore. But this was blasphemy of course. For one, though perhaps an excellent Headmaster, Dumbledore was no one worth spying on. As for spying on my family, if they had nothing to hide, there should have been no reason to suspect they were being spied on. Then, when my father's name came up in a stack of wizards under investigation, I knew I would have to cut ties. Rules are meant to be followed, and clearly my family disagreed. And I couldn't associate with them if they refused to see reason. The decision had been mutual too; my mother insisted that if I couldn't see through the lies the Ministry was feeding me, they couldn't trust me to be around.
I've always been a stickler for the rules, until I realized that rules are often made for oppression. Cornelius Fudge resigned. All along, Harry had been telling the truth that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back. And suddenly, I wasn't sure what to do anymore. Fudge's resignation was less by his own choice and more by paranoid demand from all across the United Kingdom. My position remained, even under the new Minister, but I was torn. Here I was watching the Ministry grow in corruption every day, but I couldn't return to my family. They'd never take me back, not after how I'd treated them.
I'd argued against Harry in his ministry hearing, which had made me feel horrible after realizing he'd been telling the truth. I'd encouraged my brother to turn his back on his best friend. I sent the gift from my mother back unopened. I never checked in on my father, even knowing he could have died. All because I'd gotten caught up in following rules.
But now we were entering a war, and it was all because of rules. If a rich and powerful Death Eater broke out of Azkaban, he was left free, despite breaking the rules. If a muggleborn existed, they'd be jailed on falsified charges. This wasn't at all how things were supposed to be. Rules were supposed to be grounded in morals; for the good of everyone and certainly not made for oppression.
Suddenly nothing made sense anymore. Innocent people were dying. I found myself breaking rules in secret, hoping to save those I could without raising suspicion, searching for signs that my family was alive. Wanted posters for my brother and his two best friends plastered the country for crimes of opposing those who had infiltrated the ministry with bogus laws. Ron was guilty of being a muggle lover aiding Harry Potter, Hermione guilty of being a muggle posing as a witch aiding Harry Potter. And Harry… Harry was guilty for existing. And for two years I had blindly contributed to his persecution.
Thousands of people in our world were trying to go on with their lives as if there were no war. Muggleborns, magical creatures, and the poorest of purebloods were crying out for help that fell on deaf ears. Then there were those like me, hearing the pleas for help and doing nothing.
Of course it had to be a Dumbledore who offered me a way out. Not the headmaster, mind you. No, I don't believe I would have returned if it had been Albus Dumbledore, yet another power seeker who cared for nobody but himself and his goals. But his brother Aberforth offered that flashing neon of escape, a way to fight back, and a way to hopefully seek forgiveness from those I had blindly betrayed.
Now all is said and done and nobody can escape the sting of loss. The darkness is nothing new, but there's a new hope in a brighter future.
I've always been a stickler for the rules, and I still am. But if the rules are hurtful to someone else, to anyone else, then those rules were made to be broken.