May 26, 1998
Four weeks ago, President Graves was in the final stages of preparing for war with Britain. Per my discussions with Elihu, he had been readying the Dragon Corps, had been in talks with the Canadian Ministry to join the efforts and had rallied the people of Magical America to be prepared to break our ancestral and political ties with Britain due to their government being run by a Dark Wizard. The governors rallied their people at home to drum up support, volunteer groups were made to begin to prepare the home front for rationing and potential retaliatory attacks. Meanwhile, Jack Graves had been preparing to face the International Wizarding Confederation, to deal with their inevitable calls for his arrest and trial when the first blows against Britain were struck.
But, in the end, none of that had been needed.
The moment the war ended, the people of Britain had come together to both defeat Voldemort and take back full control of the Ministry of Magic. That reclamation came in blood and had left President Graves very disappointed in that he had been stripped of the potential to be a wartime president, which had mixed together with the loss of his eldest son. A loss that had earned the sympathy of the nation and added another layer to what some viewed as Jack trying to uphold a family legacy from a place of political power. When word eventually got out that I had been to the final battle and emerged unscathed, political optics began to spin. Suddenly, Jack Graves became a tragic political figure, one devoted to his wayward children who had fulfilled their duty as First Children of MACUSA, the duty to act as ambassadors and social representatives for their presidential parent.
According to Elihu, I was being held as a heroine in the states. There were many reporters who now wanted to interview me about my time in Britain, wanting to know what I had been doing over the past couple of years. Why had I been so quiet during Jack's administration thus far? Did I have a favorite British designer? Would I be returning home? Would I be accepting the offer of New York fashion designer, Adeline Montrose, to wear her robes exclusively while accompanying my father in Britain? Was I single? Had I met someone? If I had, when would we be coming back?
By the Twelve, it was too much!
Elihu, a man who should honestly be sainted after almost three years of political nonsense, continued to tell the nosy journalists where they could shove their quills, that I was mourning my brother and was also too busy to sit down for stupid questions. That I was busy doing useful things and Magical America could stand to take a page out of my book.
I knew I could not stay silent forever.
And I knew Percy and I needed to stay quiet a little longer, as much as that hurt after everything, I needed this to die down and Percy was walking on a thin wire after Fred's death. One wrong question and Percy might actually explode in a way I was not sure I could foresee or smooth over publicly. He did not need that to be his first press introduction with regards to me or the affiliation with me. The reporters swarming around Harry Potter were exposing the whole Weasley family to more than enough – some were hanging around outside the Burrow and had to be chased off by one of the twins remaining prototype inventions. I refused to add more to that. We needed time to grieve in peace.
I was constantly grateful for Elihu's dogged pursuit in protecting my privacy – he had effectively starved off the worst of them and helped me write a very short press statement to keep the rest of them at bay and out of the Embassy where they had been congregating. The statement was a simple one, thanking everyone for their kindness and concern for my wellbeing after the death of my brother, that I was well and asking for privacy to grieve and begin to press forward with the good works I had planned with a local charity that was in its early stages.
That only made the American press hungrier with speculation, but several stepped back and left their calling cards with the name of the reporter and their newspaper or magazine they were with along with kind notes asking for me to reach out when I was ready. I kept three who had potential, putting the one from my old schoolmate Chastity on top. She had written me a delightful, personal letter that reminisced on our old school days while offering her condolences for Alex's death and offered to allow me to edit anything that she wrote if I interviewed with her. I think going public about the orphanage plans at Thornell or announcing my eventual engagement to Percy would be perfect to discuss with Chastity and her women's magazine, she was always very astute about public perception. She would find Percy amusing and paint a very good picture of our whole romantic rendezvous. Also, Percy would like her, and my father would have a conniption, which was a big plus.
After all the press matters had died down and the British Ministry began to re-establish itself. President Jack Graves had made the appropriate inquiries for a visit and been welcomed with the pomp and circumstance worthy of a political world leader, even if it was a small scale welcome due to the mess of a political budget. Minister Shacklebolt and President Graves had shaken hands for the camera in the Atrium in front of the empty platform of the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Jack, speaking with the calm, charismatic confidence of a seasoned politician, had vowed his continued support to this new administration and looked forward to rebuilding this long international relationship under this new banner. The possessed charisma of Jack Graves, a man who sought political power was in direct contrast to Kingsley Shacklebolt, a man who had stepped up to become Minister, but had never sought power of his own accord and seemed... quietly uncomfortable with the idea of having it now that the adrenaline of war had fallen away.
There was only one MACUSA Auror attending this meeting with my father, an indistinguishable figure in a blank white mask, indicating that this was a peace meeting and if I knew my father at all he, if there were to be blows, he was in the state for it. The second MACUSA Auror was going with Elihu to have a chat with the new Head of International Magical Cooperation and new Head of the Transportation Office. The embassy needed their floo system looked at apparently.
Percy and I exchanged looks – the last time Percy had seen my father was when he had offered Percy money and an escape opportunity to end things with me. I was not sure how quickly either of them would put that conversation behind them. I did not imagine Percy had ended the conversation gracefully and my father remained a bit of a wildcard in my life. For the moment, we were able to hide near the list, sorting through papers and talking to the other clerks on duty who had to follow their own heads of department down for this event. Someone needed to keep them on schedule, there was too much going on.
It was so strange being back in the Ministry, I was out of my house clothes and wearing my work robes for the first time in months. They seemed looser, I guess I had lost weight during the months of stress I had endured.
Percy scratched away on his pad of parchment as I pointed out the figures in the crowd from the various papers who had arrived for this historic meeting. I saw Valencia taking quick quotes with a photographer she had hired alongside a couple of her new, permanent writers. She had been getting ready to expand the business and regain her clientele, The Daily Prophet had proven itself to be an untrustworthy source of information and Valencia was ready to try and cement her little monthly rag as a solid counterpoint.
The personal assistant to the Head of International Magical Cooperation was flipping quickly through her schedule.
"What can you tell me about how Representative Weathers takes his tea?"
"He's a notorious coffee fiend – no tea."
The girl looked like she was going to have a stroke as she scratched out something on her notes and schedule.
"Dash of milk, and he probably brought his own flavoring, he's not sure it's legal here due to the sugar content."
The assistant looked ready to faint.
And things were going back to normal on some level. That was comforting.
I looked back at my father and caught the weary glances of the new Ministry Department Heads who were looking nervously at the white masked MACUSA Aurors – the clearly marked bodyguards. While Aurors specialized in plain clothes operations, coming in uniform to be clearly visible to the photographers and the people who worked at the Ministry was a clear message of warning and distrust. If a couple of Aurors were being open about their position, imagine how many were not and had enmeshed themselves in the crowd as a precaution against trouble. It was an easy ploy to unsettle the new players and heads of the Ministry.
The unspoken, implied threat was a very shady tactic, and unspoken reminder of the Ministry's weakness, but Shacklebolt was blatantly unfazed. Though I knew some of what happened in the office and Shacklebolt's thought process on general matters, Percy knew more and had been taken into far more confidence. I was a liability for my connections, but needed for my internal knowledge. A security risk, but for a moment, a needed one who had knowledge of the previous administrations workings and filing system. I had been brought on as someone Percy trusted and... well, he vouched for me. I was not sure what exactly had been said during Percy's meeting with Shacklebolt on rehiring me – but I knew what he did not mention since I still had had a job.
I knew it was nothing damning, but probably just a statement of trust. I was sure Percy had built an argument purely off of that. Percy had seen more of the Ministerial nonsense after I was removed, Shacklebolt needed Percy close during the rebuilding period and keeping Percy happy with an office administrative assistant he trusted was one way for Shacklebolt to earn Percy's trust in full moving forward.
Shacklebolt was wise that way. Percy and I had kept one administration as unstable as we were able, we were quite confident we could do it again.
It takes more than two unicorn hairs to make a tail, but it was an honest attempt that delayed efforts and sometimes, that was enough even when it did not feel that way. We had enough information to destroy the old government under the eye of the new administration and maybe surviving it all was the greater impact.
Percy passed me some of the papers he had finished so I could begin to sort through them and check for errors. Despite his dislike of my American spelling, I was aware at this point what not to mark on his own writing. I had, at last, learned to ignore the stray u's that so peppered the written work of this country.
As I took the papers, I caught a glimpse of the cufflinks I had given Percy as an early birthday and apology gift. They were embossed with his patronus form, a pine marten. It was subtle, but it was an American tradition that I wanted to share, as a display of magical prowess and accomplishment. Also, I thought pine martens were very cute.
The photo ops soon ended and the two leaders made their way towards the lift, Shacklebolt engaging in a low-pressure chatter that I had grown accustomed to in my work with him in the last couple of weeks. The weather, the travelling from North America, little things that Shacklebolt would break the ice about.
Unfortunately for Shacklebolt, my father was a very seasoned politician who was used to this tactic, all it was doing was giving Jack time to think and analyze Shacklebolt.
Elihu trailed behind the pair, chatting with the two unresponsive Aurors – probably just to annoy them as I was sure they were both from the Embassy, he for sure knew which of his people were behind the blank masks. I had my own guesses.
The lift opened with a quick tap from Percy, we had been holding it in place for this exit. The Minister and the President stepped inside together, followed by the MACUSA Auror while Percy and I filed in last. It was a bit of a tight fit, it barely gave enough room for my father to turn and look at me, trying to find signs of something being wrong in the quick wayward glance of a busy father. Percy pressed himself against me under the guise of there not being enough room in the lift – earning a hard stare from Jack before he had to return to the presidential small-talk. Percy and I exchanged a silent look of sheer exhaustion – people were tiring.
"That more people than I was expecting," Jack's tone was amiable as the elevator clicked and whirred upwards. "I was not sure how much of your news structure would still be standing. I thought most had been arrested."
"No, the Ministry had a lot of control over the Daily Prophet, the rest had gone underground and the ones who were still publishing anti-Ministry opinions were smaller papers without a lot of readerships, those were easy targets for the previous administration."
"I see, and I assume you have broken the shackles on the Daily Prophet in the last few weeks?"
Shacklebolt chuckled dryly at the pun, "Yes, it's a work in progress, they still assume they have access to us that they no longer have and need to send things to the Ministry before publication. It's been an effort to wean them off old habits."
Jack nodded quietly as the lift doors opened to reveal the hallway that led to the Minister Support Staff Offices – meaning a few empty rooms and a bunch of stored files, the core support staff was at the end of the hall which consisted of just Percy and I for the moment. Shacklebolt had plans to expand in the next year. For the moment, we were more valuable as records, timekeepers and assistants who could confirm background check information in the filling of vacant positions and mention people who needed to be double checked as suspected, willing collaborators. Percy and I were very careful about allowing people access to Shacklebolt – his position one of more social and soft power at the moment as he found people to elevate within the Ministry and worked to rebuild trust with the people as a personable leader with a vision.
The party of five walked down the corridor, Percy scampered forward to get the door and hold it for our guests, passing Shacklebolt the papers he requested as the Minister walked past, a quick thank you passing from Shacklebolt. Percy waited at the door for the rest to pass as I trailed behind; his hand brushed my lower back as he followed me inside the room and closed the door behind us. We quickly split off to our own desks as the masked Auror took position by the door, hands behind their back, straight backed and silent.
"Take that mask off, Auror." Jack's voice was quiet and commanding, "Be at ease."
The Auror nodded, a gloved hand reaching for the white mask and pulling it away with a whispered word as their other hand pulled back his black hood.
"Minister Shacklebolt, this is my nephew, Auror Quintin Graves."
It was a sign of respect for an on duty Auror to remove the duty mask, those masks were symbolic of a harsh duty, a quiet threat and flaunting of power, to remove it was a sign of trust. Shacklebolt reached out to offer his hand to Quincy to shake. Quincy took it with a quick grin, speaking to how relaxed he was able to be with the shackles of his duty removed within the office.
Quincy glanced over at me and winked. I took the opportunity to come and hug him, he was a very sturdy, but huggable sort of cousin. There was a distinct lack of cologne on his person, must be an Auror policy. Quincy clutched me tightly; we really did not need words at this point. It had been a long year and I was looking forward to the friendship we could build in the years to come as independent adults. Quincy looked the part of an adult, the full Auror regalia tended to do that. I felt much older than twenty but still looked achingly young.
Percy and I were going to have to go out into the world and try to embrace these last years of being young and stupid while we could get away with it.
The two men walked into the office, Shacklebolt left the door slightly ajar, showing his trust in us and also as a note that if any of this conversation left the office, he would immediately have four suspects, including Jack. Shacklebolt was far less prone to political duplicity than the previous occupants of the office. Percy and I exchanged a look and immediately began to go through the piled papers on our desks.
Shacklebolt generally did not do this when I was in the office, he did it regularly when Percy was in, Percy assumed it was to get his honest input at the end of the meetings. With this meeting being with my father, I assumed the usual guard against a foreigner knowing government secrets had been stripped away under the assumption Jack or someone else would tell me anyway.
I caught a glimpse of Jack looking back at the door, a slight curiosity in his face before he returned to the matter at hand as he took the vacant seat for Shacklebolt's visitors on the other side of the desk. Shacklebolt was already making himself comfortable, adjusting some papers and offering Jack a cup of coffee.
"Spoon of sugar please, no milk."
Percy motioned for me to stay; I had shown him how to use my coffee press for moments like this. He popped out of the office to our tiny break room and the two men discussed Jack's plans for his time in London. If Shacklebolt had any time to himself since he became Minister and Jack's recommendation of camping when Shacklebolt got fed up with the strange people of his constituency. Jack then recommended a couple of different books on political theory and coming to a Quadpot match should Shacklebolt ever come stateside as no one would look for a British Minister there.
Percy returned holding Shacklebolt's usual cup of tea along with the mug of black coffee that clearly made Percy uncomfortable and suddenly appreciative of my milk and sugar habit. Quincy was kind enough to open the door for Percy who was greeted with appreciative noises.
"You look well, Weasley."
I took my eyes off my papers and peered into the room where my father was talking to my boyfriend, a quiet horror brewing in my guts. The two men had not parted on good terms last time and Percy had a long memory and a long fuse. As did my father.
"President Graves, good to see you again." Percy's tone was clipped and official.
"Likewise. So how does a young man get by in London these days? Roommates? That's how all my staffers are getting by these days – about three per apartment. Is it the same here?"
By the Twelve! Percy, he's baiting you! Don't take it!
"I'm paid a living wage."
Quincy and I exchanged horrified expressions, both unwilling to believe we were hearing this and expecting this meeting to come to an end immediately.
Jack laughed heartily before Percy could backtrack to try and cover the statement to something more polite. "I see why you've lasted here! Refreshingly honest young man you've got Shacklebolt."
My mouth fell open in pure shock. I could not believe I had heard any of this! Did... did my father approve of Percy in some fashion? I don't have the energy for this. I was expecting pure animosity on both sides and was ready to act as the go between for the next fifty years. No, I guess my family management plan was going to have to be redrawn.
Percy quickly excused himself and returned to the main office, leaving the door as it was when he entered in its slightly ajar state – returning to his seat with confusion writ upon his brow.
The war had ended and everyone was still crazy. Maybe that was just the nature of people? Torturing us with their motives and weird behaviors.
The three of us set the weirdness of the matter aside, Quincy resuming the impassive expression of an Auror on duty, Percy and I resuming our paperwork, trying to pretend we were not listening to the conversation in the Minister's Office.
"Well," Jack began with his usual, political bravado. "Let's get to the point of this little trip, shall we?"
There was a sudden influx of political talk, chatter about support of a military kind, Jack being willing to offer Aurors to come and off training and support over the next few years as the Ministry's Law Enforcement Office rebuilt itself for long term sustainability. They had never truly recovered from the first rise of Voldemort, there had been too much death and terror, too many lives lost and political wrangling by those remaining supporters to keep the Law Enforcement teams divided along internal lines and training opportunities limited with outside governments friendly exchanges among settled, trusted allies. The groundwork for the Ministry takeover had been laid out over decades.
Shacklebolt found this agreement agreeable, he was too in need of help to say otherwise. The two outlined a simple array of conditions and a timeline of about ten years with Shacklebolt's experience in the matter of the British Aurors. The solid details would be examined by others moving forward and made a more even keel overall, though my father was requesting access to the British Ministry's full report of how the takeover happened in full and a few different types of magical creatures to be brought stateside to replenish weakening populations in America. First world nations did not really have too much to trade with each other, but MACUSA had funds and a willingness to wait for a returned favor years down the road – a long standing debt was a matter of payment in later terms, something in the back pocket for an emergency. Jack Graves was a canny politician at heart, even under the niceties of helping mother Britain.
The topic beyond the door shifted – Jack had never been one to dance around an issue for too long.
"I'm happy to offer the services of my Aurors under these conditions, but I have one more request to make to even the deal."
Something in my chest tightened at the sudden manifestation of nerves.
My father's voice reverberated through the room, despite his controlled tones. "MACUSA citizens have been lost to this war, some have been murdered by our own treacherous citizens. First, we ask that Marcel Whitlock be returned to MACUSA to trial and custody for the murder of one of his own countrymen, William Cromwell."
"My understanding is that MACUSA would have no say over what happens to Mr. Cromwell's accused murderer."
"I'd hardly call him accused; he admitted it to my representative some time ago. We have grounds to request Whitlock's return to MACUSA – and an American killing another of his countrymen on foreign soil is enough to make us invested." Jack's tone was measured and thought out. "We've done similar transports before after the war against Grindelwald, a precedent has been set in this, you have too much going on with the war trials. We wish to see justice for Mr. Cromwell and his widow and we can offer it sooner than you all can."
"Would this extend to other Americans captured for aiding Voldemort during this conflict?"
I had stopped working completely at this point and was just openly listening to everything going on in that room.
"Yes. Find them and we'll handle it from there. They'll be off your plate."
"Agreed." Shacklebolt could say nothing else, there were too many resources and too much manpower tied into this hunt for the remaining Death Eaters. "But we get to confirm the extent of their involvement before we send them over."
"Fine with me, Weathers will probably agree to the term as well and he'll be far better at selling it." There was the tell-tale quill scratching the sound of flipping paper.
I looked over at Percy who had also stopped working and was only engaging in the appearance of it by sorting papers on his desk that I knew he had sorted this morning before the press meeting.
"Second, the three Americans murdered during the Thicknesse Administration." My father paused; I could hear the mug clinking onto the desk between the two men. "We want their bodies returned to their families with full honors – Isabella Chavez was an English teacher in Spain who was caught in the border closing on her way home to America. Iva Fitzroy was a secretary for our embassy here, Elihu Weathers knew her very well. Otto Zajac was a friend of my family, he served with my mother in the Grindelwald conflict, and was spending his time as a Healing instructor for the MACUSA embassy when he was not out in Britain teaching your people his spellcraft. We want them returned to us to be reinterred at home. Elihu will call it fair restitution for your government trying to murder him and the Death Eaters who are believed to have murdered them reportedly died in the Battle of Hogwarts, that will bring a clean end to this whole matter."
It was hardly a thinking sort of deal for Shacklebolt, it was just the right thing to do in his eyes. It was not worth fighting MACUSA over and would help Shacklebolt build greater international support from a powerful ally. If he needed to go begging for more support, he would be more likely to receive an ear out of goodwill – the Governor of California, Yujin Lee, in particular had a lot of political power for the sheer number of people who lived along the coast and the number of representatives who answered his directives.
I was sure I knew where this conversation was going before Jack even broached the subject.
"Lastly," I did not have to see Jack lean back in his chair, I knew him well enough to know his tactics and how he moved when he was confident in his position and Jack sounded very confident. The intertwined fingers and solemn expression were familiar enough to me that I did not need to see him doing it to know it was being done. "In the matter of Harrow Avery-"
"President Graves, you may be too close to this to negotiate for it." Shacklebolt's voice cut through the matter, but Jack was pressing onward.
"Avery has murdered an American citizen; we would like him remanded to our custody."
I gasped audibly, covering my mouth in shock. Some part of me knew that would come up during Jack's visit, but to hear it aloud was entirely different to how I imagined it. Percy was looking at me, a finger to his lips to remind me to be quiet and Quincy was looking at me with the blank Auror expression of one on duty – clearly unsurprised by this request.
"He has been accused, Graves. That case has yet to go to court."
"Give him to us and I'll pull the strings to make it worth the burden on your conscience."
Percy was wide-eyed and frozen in place, his lips moving soundlessly. We both knew that was not a request of legal precedent. It was not one that could be honored. It was a personal one where Jack was putting pressure on a weakened government to settle a vendetta.
"Send your diplomat to handle this, Jack. The death of your son was a tragedy, but your position does not give you the authority to levy your grief for a sense of vengeance."
"Don't play that card! Don't make it personal!" Jack's temper was rising, but still holding a fine edge of control. "Avery has killed an American citizen and we demand you give him to our custody!"
As my father spoke, the rapid speech, his rising tone made him sound vaguely slurred from his rage – Jack's northern accent was in full swing and the carefully measured accent he used on the trail was gone. The MACUSA President had stepped away to reveal a grieving father in the blink of an eye. I was immediately uncomfortable and awkward for even being in the vicinity of this wretched despair.
Percy was wide-eyed and frozen in place, his lips moving soundlessly. We both knew that was not a request of legal precedent. It was not one that could be honored. It was a personal one where Jack was putting pressure on a weakened government to settle a vendetta.
Quincy had loved Alex as I had and his eyes were wet at the corners, he quickly reached up to wipe them away, but there was something resolute in him as he stared forward at attention. He was at peace with the demands made of him. In this, Quincy and my father were aligned for the first time in their lives.
"I understand that," Shacklebolt's voice was calm through the crack in the door. Percy and I had long ago stopped pretending to work and were actively listening, more out of survival instinct than a need to be nosy. "I will not surrender a citizen of my nation to the justice of another. I know what justice you will ask for President Graves, and this Ministry has never supported it."
There was the sound of a chair scraping on the floor as my father rose to his feet. The door opened wider as Jack emerged, a wild, focused look in his eyes.
"This country," Shacklebolt started, his voice still a measure of calm that had left my father moments ago, "has never supported death at the hands of the state for the perpetrators' crimes."
"You gonna suck out his soul then? Can I watch?"
Percy was half out of his chair at that. I had folded my hands on the desk and grappled with my own morality in the moment. Some people committed monstrous crimes and death was a clean, final ending for those affected, but in my eyes, it had to be a crime with many witnesses to verify also a full confession backed by evidence. Harrow very well had both, but the idea of handing him to a foreign government for retribution was several steps beyond the pale.
"Out of line, Mr. President." Shacklebolt emerged from the office to face Jack with a resolute expression.
"I offer a clean death at the hands of MACUSA, your Ministry fed people to dementors like a buffet." Jack's voice was cold, distant and had a distinct undercurrent of rage that propelled him onwards. "Explain to me how true death makes my nation monstrous in your eyes while I offer Avery a better end than he deserves!"
"This country has never capitulated to outside demands regarding its citizens before, we will not start now!"
Jack smiled grimly, "Shacklebolt, the last administration killed several of my people, tortured others and attempted to assassinate my Diplomat while financing purist sentiment on American soil. My governors were baying for blood." He stepped forward and chuckled darkly, his arms opening in a welcoming gesture. "I am the one who pulled strings with the Confederation to allow Britain the opportunity to restore itself independently and not under my boot." Jack's smile faded to a murderous expression that I hoped I would never see on my father's face again. "Your government only exists because I allow it."
The silence in the room was palpable and I watched Quincy straighten himself, pulling his hood up, reading the room for the unspoken arrangement to leave.
"Quincy, I think we've finished here. We'll let Weathers handle the peculiars from here."
There was a quick nod from Quincy as he put his white mask back on and followed my father to the door, the pair moving out into the corridor, silent as shadows until the door slammed behind them.
"He's grieving, Minister," I said slowly, trying to control the tremor in my voice. "Don't take him too seriously in this outburst."
Shacklebolt nodded, "I won't hold a father's grief against him – we've seen too much of that lately not to recognize it for what it is."
Percy was quiet, I was not sure what he was thinking at that moment.
"We have no recent precedent for anything he requested, those cases are decades old." Percy went straight back to business when he spoke at last. "Why agree to it?"
"He was right in one way," Shacklebolt turned towards Percy, his hands shifting into his pocket. "We have too much on our plate to find and prosecute everyone on our own, the Cromwell case is so small it's worth handing over on the basis of nationality. Whitlock will answer to his peers for his treachery. Returning the bodies will be no small feat, but we have an idea where they are buried and will return them as requested. We need the Auror support too badly to reject everything, MACUSA is happy to offer it as it will help train their own people for leadership while we rebuild our own forces. It allows us a chance to spread our attention to rebuild everything else." Shacklebolt sighed, "Many joining the Aurors now will leave, they won't stay after the last of the Death Eaters are caught. It gives us a chance to prepare for that day and potentially move those who leave into other Ministry departments that at the moment, do not exist."
Yes, but dealing with Jack always had a cost, and the heart of his request had just been refused outright. I could not help but wonder how this was going to turn out in the days ahead.
Oo0Oo0
Author's Note: Percy is Jack's favorite in-law, no contest, the others never quite hold the candle in the same way. Percy is not scared of Jack and is so quietly feisty with him that he's won Jack over by being his obnoxious self, alongside Jack's view of Percy's bootstrap narrative. Percy will never understand what he did for that position and hates that he has it.
Audrey runs a little cold on Arthur also (never quite forgives him for not reaching out to Percy during the war). I like to think neither of them are the biggest fans of their respective father-in-law.
I did some age math – Audrey was almost 18 at the start of this story, Percy was barely 19. Both way too young for the level of nonsense that was coming down the pipeline of this story. I'm a monster.
And Percy's patronus is officially a pine marten - it's like a weasel, but cat sized, connects him back to the family, while offering him a bit of independence. Proactive, likes to be needed, driven and diligent.