Swords to Plowshares

Tonight would be unparalleled by any other night of my life, I was sure. As I combed my hair and straightened my robes, I looked at the picture of Penelope on my dresser. She smiled up at me, shyly brushing her hair out of her eyes.

I hadn't told anyone what I was planning for tonight, afraid that if I let any detail slip, everything would be ruined. That didn't seem to matter, however, as I could see myself smiling every time I passed a mirror, and Fred, George, and Ron were teasing me more than usual. "Percy's got a secret," they said, or "You look happy, Percy; did Mum put extra starch in your underwear?" Taking extra precautions against telling them what I was planning, I stayed silent, refusing to rise to their bait. All week, my parents had asked me if there was anything I wanted to talk about, but I declined their offers. It was a week when I wished I could whistle, or sing, or have the ability to produce anything more than what I figured to be exactly four notes of music.

I invited Penelope on a date, dinner and a walk in a local garden, someplace romantic that encouraged conversation. Just a few weeks out of Hogwarts, I missed Penelope very much. I hadn't realized how much our daily talks brightened my days, or how much I needed that outlet for my thoughts. I didn't make friends easily, and it had come as something of a surprise when Penelope expressed interest in me after a prefect meeting in our sixth year. Since then, my moments with her had been some of the happiest in my life.

Dinner was wonderful, relaxing, and she seemed pleased that I had chosen someplace quiet and relatively secluded to go afterwards. We walked and talked, never growing tired of the subject of the future. It had never occurred to me that I would do anything else with my life except work for the Ministry of Magic, and I was waiting to hear the results of several interviews I'd had in different departments. Penelope thought she might be interested in a career with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but it seemed like every time we talked, she had a different idea as to what she wanted to do with her life; last week, she had mentioned pursuing a career with the Daily Prophet.

"But Penny," I said, "this first job out of school is one of the most important decisions we're ever going to make. This is going to set the standard for everything we'll do in the future. A good job now, even if it's just entry level in the right department, is going to get you everywhere you want to be. It's not even so much what kind of job you do, but who you're working for." We continued to circle the gardens, hand in hand, admiring the bright summer flowers and the trees that only bloomed for these few high summer weeks during the year.

"I know, I know," she replied, pausing in front of a pink flowering shrub. Her eyes were shining, the way they always got when she was deep in thought, excited about her newest idea. "It's just that there's so much that sounds interesting. One day I wake up and think that I might like to be a Healer, or an Auror, or something that involves a lot of travel and intrigue, but sometimes I think that maybe I want something where I can just settle, like working in a library somewhere, or in some department that's...I don't know, important but not important at the same time. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I'm not sure. Don't you want to do something with your life?" I wasn't too sure I liked the direction this conversation was taking, and my dinner started turning over in my stomach. Out of nervous habit, I reached into the pocket of my robes with my other hand, running my thumb over the surface of my wand. Penelope was never uncertain about anything; it was one of the things I liked best about her. We tended to agree on things, have similar goals, and to hear her flustered over our potential careers rang warning bells in my head.

"Of course I do, Percy! I guess I'm just not sure what that something is."

"Well, it's something you're going to have to decide fairly quickly. I know you won't have any trouble, though. You're smart," I squeezed her hand, "and beautiful," she smiled faintly, "and any office would be lucky to have you."

"But what if I don't want to work in an office?"

"No one ever said you had to. I just figured that we'd want to start things together." We paused together in front of a flowerbed, and I turned to face her, holding one of her hands in both of mine. I hadn't, even through all my planning, expected to be this nervous. My knees grew weak, and my lower lip trembled.

"Percy, I-"

"Penny-"

"-don't think I can-"

"Will you marry me?"

"-keep...What did you say?"

"Marry me, Penelope," I said, more confident now that I had the words out. "I love you, and I think we could have a wonderful life together."

"How long have you been planning to ask me?"

I felt sweat beading under my arms. "Aren't...aren't you going to say yes?"

"Percy..." I felt her hand slacken in mine. "I...I don't," she broke into a sob, "think I can. I mean, I really like you, but I can't right now."

The sweat suddenly felt like it had turned to ice, and I fumbled for words. "But...but why? Everything would be so perfect. We could work together, and someday I'll be Minister of Magic and we'll travel the world. Wouldn't you like to see Australia, or India, or Africa?"

"Of course I would, but I don't think this is the right time. I don't know if...if any time would be the right time." She bit her lip and looked at the ground.

"What do you mean?"

"I feel like our marriage would just be another step on the ladder of Things Percy Weasley Has to Do. You have your whole life planned: Leave school, get a job at the Ministry, get married, and work your way up through their departments until you become Minister of Magic."

"What's...What's wrong with that?" I asked. I was horrified. Scared. My hands started curling backward from nerves, the way they had when I opened my N.E.W.T. letters. I couldn't hold on to anything, could barely remain standing from the shock of her words, by how sure she sounded that I had no real love for her, that she was nothing more than an accomplishment to me.

"Nothing's necessarily wrong with it, but I'm not sure I want to grow up to be the wife of the Minister of Magic," she said.

"You wouldn't be the wife of the Minister of Magic, you'd be my wife."

"And that's another thing, the whole my bit."

"What bit is that?"

Penelope sighed and pulled her hand out of mine. In an unvoiced desperation I reached for it again, but she stepped away from me. "Percy, I...think it would be better if we didn't date anymore and we were just friends."

"What? But Penny," I gasped, tears forming a foundation in my throat, "I don't want to be your friend. I want to be your husband."

She started to cry, and reached into the pocket of her robe for a handkerchief. "It's not...not a matter of choice."

I opened my mouth but no sound came out, and the rest of me felt as though someone had cast a Full-Body Bind. "You...you don't..."

"Oh Percy, you're wonderful, really, but...we're not going in the same direction in life," she said, wiping her eyes.

"How is that possible? Haven't we talked about this before?"

"You're so smart, and so...you have so many goals. You already have your whole life planned out, and everything you do, everything you say, is designed to get you someplace. Whatever job you get with the Ministry now doesn't really matter to you, as long as you can move up."

"It does matter to me!" She didn't understand. How could my closest companion, confidante, and love not understand one of the things that meant so much to me? "I only applied in certain departments. I wouldn't work just anywhere, you know. I'm not going to work in...on something like the Broom Regulatory Council. It has to be--"

"You're missing the point. Percy...I'm sorry. I know you mean well, but you've gotten so possessive lately. You always want to be with me, and you always want me to be a part of whatever it is you're doing regardless of whether I want to do it or not."

"That's because I enjoy the time we spend together," I said quickly. Maybe I could remedy this. "When I'm with you, everything is more enjoyable."

"That's not what I meant," she sighed, continuing to wipe her eyes. "I meant that you always want me to drop whatever I'm doing and spend time with you. You're suffocating me. I just can't keep up with your demands anymore."

"Please, Penny," I begged, "I'll do whatever you want me to. We...we don't have to see each other as often." I knew I was done for. I knew it, but I had to keep trying. I couldn't give up the most important person in my life. "You can choose what we do on our dates, or we don't have to do anything at all! Please...I love you, Penny. You mean the world to me. Please, won't you reconsider?"

"It's too late, Percy. Maybe we could have fixed this, I don't know, a few months ago, but not now."

I didn't remember much of what she said after that. Somewhere in there I think I tried to make more protests, to make Penelope see that she was wrong in her perceptions, but everything I said fell flat. She countered every reason I had for us to stay together, as though she had played out this scene a hundred times in front of a mirror and made a preemptive strike at any reason I might have to argue with her.

As the last fragments of sunlight fell behind the horizon, she looked into my face, said she was sorry...so sorry...and left.

I didn't follow her around the corner of the garden, but sat down on a nearest bench. Unsure as to whether I would ever move again, I sank into my thoughts and what I could remember of our conversation. Possessive? Was I really? Was it so wrong to want to be the best, or to reap the benefits that came with it? No, she was...had been...more to me than that. Torn between a need to curse the nearest object and cry, though I never cried, I stayed where I was, not moving. I loved her. Loving Penny wasn't the same as wanting to possess her. Didn't she see that? I didn't understand what she meant. More appropriately, my head didn't understand what she meant, but my heart did. I don't remember how long I sat on that bench, only that my elbows left painful imprints in my thighs when I stood to go home.

Upon arriving in the living room, I saw Ron sitting in a chair reading something I thought I recognized as his book on the Chudley Cannons. I turned to him but didn't say anything, even to break the silence. He continued to read, and I had a thought. I wanted to do something, anything, to keep my mind off Penelope, even if the solution was only temporary. Walking over to the small credenza in the dining room, I took an old chess set out of the bottom drawer. It probably hadn't been used in a while; many of the pieces seemed to be in hibernation. The black king and queen had their arms around each other, and one of the bishops snorted as he turned over in his place in the box.

I sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Ron, realizing that it didn't matter at this point whether I wrinkled my robes. "Would you like to play?" I asked, gesturing to the empty board.

Ron looked up. "What?"

"Chess. I asked if you'd like to play."

He raised an eyebrow, as though he was trying to figure out my ulterior motive. "Why?"

I shook my head. Emotionally drained, I was in no mood to explain or argue. "Never mind. It was a foolish idea anyway."

As I reached for the corner of the board, Ron put his book down and slid off the chair, moving to sit across from me.

"It's okay." He started pulling pieces out of the box.

"Would you like to play white or black?"

Shrugging, he reached for a white pawn and a black pawn, shuffling them behind his back and holding two fists in front of himself. I tapped his right hand, not that it mattered. I hadn't won a game of chess against Ron since I taught him to play.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Percy! Percy, wake up. There's someone here who wants to talk to you."

"Hmm?" It had been three in the morning or so before I went to sleep, Ron keeping me company through multiple games of chess. I didn't know whether it was seven in the morning or seven in the evening. All I knew was that I had finally given into exhaustion and dragged myself upstairs. I had been dreaming of nothing, and I was not interested in leaving my warm, comfortable bed.

"Percy!" My mother pulled my covers away, and I groaned at the sudden rush of cooler air. "Bartemius Crouch from the Ministry is here. He wants to talk to you."

I sat up, panicking. Bartemius Crouch? I'd had a job interview with him just last week. Now was a terrible time for him to come here. My hair was a mess. I needed a shower. I was wearing my pajamas! "Mother, I can't talk to him now! I'm not dressed."

"You'll be fine. Just put your dressing-gown on and run a comb through your hair." Her voice dropped to an excited whisper. "I think he wants to offer you a job!"

"I can't take a job in my dressing-gown! I have to look professional."

"You're going to be professionally unemployed if you don't get yourself down to the fireplace and talk to Mr. Crouch. Get up now!" She grabbed my arm, pulling me out bed. A comb found its way into my hand, and I made myself look as presentable as I could. When my mother left, I walked downstairs into the living room, took a deep breath, and headed for the kitchen. My entire family, including Fred and George, was there. Panic shot through me. Were Fred and George going to do anything to try to ruin my conversation, like catapulting eggs at my head or worse, casting a Silencing Charm every time I opened my mouth? I looked pleadingly at my mother for a moment, and she nodded, seeming to understand my worry. I didn't think I could deal with their antics right now, not in front of Mr. Crouch, not on four hours of sleep, and most definitely not the morning after last night's Penelope disaster.

Mr. Crouch's head was in the fire. He smiled when he saw me.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley, good morning! I'm sorry to have disturbed you so early on a Monday."

"It's quite all right sir. I'm...normally an early riser," I said, kneeling in front of the fire. A rustle and a hiss behind me gave me the impression that my mother was trying to keep Fred under control.

"Good to hear, because I'm hoping that you'll have a lot of early mornings from now on. Mr. Weasley, I'd like to offer you a position in my department, the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Your references and interview were outstanding, and I believe you'd be an asset to one of the most important departments at the Ministry."

The room was silent, and for a moment I wasn't sure I had heard properly. Bartemius Crouch was one of the most important people at the Ministry of Magic, and he wanted me to work for him? "You...you're hiring me?" The minute I spoke, I felt like an idiot. Of course he was hiring me! I put on what I thought was my best professional face and posture, trying to compensate for my ridiculous question. I couldn't let everything overwhelm me, couldn't let on that last night had been one of the worst nights of my life.

"I certainly am, Mr. Weasley, if you'll accept."

Composure. I smiled. "I will, Mr. Crouch. I would be delighted to work in your department, sir. Thank you."

"Wonderful. Shall I see you in a week, at eight o'clock on Monday morning?"

"Yes, sir. That sounds fine." It felt like my words were coming from an entirely different person, from a place I'd never visited.

"Good, good. I'll see you then." With that, Mr. Crouch disappeared from the fire. When he was gone, all the nerves I'd been suppressing fired to life at once, and I collapsed sideways, still staring into the flames, supporting myself with one hand.

"Are you all right, Percy?" asked my father.

"I'm fine. Fine." I was stunned. I had a job, and not just a job, but the beginning of a career. "I have a job," I mused, liking the way my lips felt as they formed the words.

"You do," my mother confirmed, "and you start next Monday." She pulled me to my feet, guiding me to the table. I sat, not seeing my family or my breakfast in front of me.

"Congratulations, Percy," said Ginny, and when I focused on the source of the sound, I saw her smiling.

"Yeah, good job, Perce," added Ron, and I saw George wince as Ron shifted slightly in his seat.

"So...er...what department was that again?" asked George.

I found my voice and sat straighter in my chair as my mother piled eggs and toast on my plate. "The Department of International Magical Cooperation. It's quite important, and honestly, I didn't really expect that they'd hire me right out of Hogwarts. It's a very prestigious department, responsible for wizarding relations, and more importantly, regulations, all over the world. I don't know if there will be a lot of travel for me right now, but if not now, opportunities will definitely come in the near future. Bartemius Crouch, you know, is quite well known for his work not just with the Ministry here, but in Belgium and Germany, really, all of Western Europe." I paused for a minute and saw that my family had gone back to their breakfasts.

"We're all very proud of you, Percy," said my father. "All of us," he emphasized, looking at Fred and George.

"I'll owl Bill and Charlie to let them know about this when we're done with breakfast," my mother told us. "And I'll also need help from all of you today. The chickens need to be fed, and I saw a few gnomes in the garden yesterday...they never learn, do they? Arthur, you had better get to work. You'll be late."

My father looked at his watch, and quickly took a last bite of toast. "Yes, you're right." He stood, hugged each of us in turn, kissed my mother goodbye, and Apparated from the kitchen.

"Eat, Percy," ordered my mother, waving her wand at the pans she had used to make breakfast. "You don't start that job for another week, and I still need help around here. Fainting from hunger is not an excuse for getting out of your chores."

"Yes, Mother." Suddenly famished, I picked up my fork and started on my eggs. A piece of toast was halfway to my mouth when Ginny spoke.

"Did you have a good time with Penelope last night?"

My throat closed at her question, and I had to force myself to swallow the food that was in my mouth. "It was fine," I replied quickly. "You know, just...just the usual date. Nothing special."

"Really? You spent an awful lot of time in the bathroom last night before you left for something not that special...not that anyone else needed to get in there."

"How much time I spend getting ready for a date is no one's business but mine, Ginny. When you start dating, you'll probably spend twice as much time in there as I do."

"There's no need to snap at your sister, Percy," said my mother sternly. "Both of you, could you try to get through one day in this house without fighting? Finish your breakfast, and let's get moving."

Moving, however, was the last thing I felt like doing. I pushed my plate away and stood. "I'm done, thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get dressed. I'll be back shortly." Placing my napkin on the table, I left the kitchen and slowly climbed the stairs to my bedroom. Once inside, I shut the door and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I thought I was going to be fine. I had been fine until Ginny mentioned Penny. The minute her name was mentioned, it was though someone opened a floodgate inside me. I had forced myself to not think of the previous night, of the rejection and Penny's terrible words, that I was possessive and she was just another goal to me. Now, the thoughts consumed me, rushing through my mind and washing away anything else I had called on to keep them away. Clenching my fists, I curled in a ball on my side in some strange misguided hope that maybe if I could make myself small enough, I would disappear entirely and not have to worry about the fact that Penny and I were no longer together.

What little of my breakfast I had eaten churned in my stomach as I made myself admit the truth. To say that Penny and I "were no longer together" was a revolting euphemism at best. She had ended our relationship. I had asked for her hand in marriage, and she had broken up with me. She would go on with her life, get married to someone else, have children...and I would never be a part of it. In a matter of months, she'd probably forget about me entirely, forget that I had ever meant anything to her. I was never going to make her laugh again, or talk to her about books or magic or...or anything.

Someone knocked on my door.

"Percy?"

Ginny. "What?"

"Mum needs your help downstairs. Come on."

"Go away."

"Percy, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Ginny. Everything is fine. Please leave. I'll be downstairs shortly."

"Did something happen with you and Penelope last night?"

"Go away!"

"I thought so." She walked away, and I closed my eyes again. I let myself hear every small sound in the house, from Ron's owl banging around in his cage to my mother talking to the twins, Ron, and Ginny in the kitchen. My Apparition licensing test wasn't until August, two weeks before the Quidditch World Cup, so I couldn't really go anywhere except out to the garden to work.

I thought back to when Penny and I first met, and how we started spending more time together, and our first kiss. Rolling onto my back, I wished I could turn time back not to the beginning of our relationship, but to the middle of it, when we were past the awkward beginnings but hadn't developed...well, Penny hadn't developed...the resentment that led to our end. I didn't feel empty. Not yet. I was too numb to be empty.

"Percy! Get down here!"

My mother's voice brought me out of my Penelope fog. "In a minute, Mother!" I put on some old clothes, tied my shoes, and went down to help Ron and the twins in the yard.

It was still early in the morning, so although the sky was a clear, pure blue, the sun was not yet too hot. As the last one out, I got stuck with the job everyone hated the most: weeding. There was no good way to do it with magic, on the chance that a spell would miss the weed and hit one of the tangled vegetable plants, or that I might mistake a weed for a vegetable. Kneeling in front of a row of green tomatoes, I started to pull weeds, ignoring the ache that built in my arms and the slivers of leaves in my hands. I felt rather than saw the sun rise as my back grew increasingly warm, and I continued to weed quickly, focusing on moving from one plant to the next. Fred and George's voices disappeared; there was nothing left right now but me, the plants, and my thoughts of Penelope. Even the prospect of my new job couldn't completely push the memories of last night from my mind.

For a week I repeated this day: barely eating, working in the garden, and studying for my Apparation test in the evenings as I listened to the explosions coming from Fred and George's room. I missed Penelope terribly, and even fell asleep with her picture in my hand one night. Her photograph never directly looked at me anymore, but seemed to always focus somewhere around my right shoulder. I didn't have the heart to hide it in my drawer, to admit to my family that the Penelope period in my life had come to a too-abrupt close, but I felt guilty looking at it.

Sunday evening finally arrived, and after dinner I bathed, set out my clothes for the next day, and climbed into bed. I couldn't get comfortable no matter how I turned, anticipating the next morning. In the final moments before I slipped into unconsciousness, I thought of Penelope, and for the first time in nearly a week I allowed myself to be sad, to feel the emptiness she had left in my life. The next morning, the hollow inside me was filled with adrenaline, pushing away my sorrow in favor of my new beginning. I forced my breakfast down, Flooed to the Ministry offices, and climbed out of their fires shaking in my nervousness as I brushed ash from my robes.

I smiled as I stood in the Atrium, enjoying the hum and motion of the air, so different from the past week where every day in the garden was the same. The Ministry headquarters never ceased to awe me, with the shining fountain and windows that today streamed bright with sunlight. I had arrived early, under my father's advice that I would have to have my wand weighed and possibly fill out some paperwork.

The people in the hallways now were rushing, checking their watches as if every glance would buy them an extra minute to get down the corridor. I found my way toward the security station and stood in line between two rather nervous-looking wizards wearing silver visitors' badges.

When my turn came, I attempted to introduce myself, but the security guard, looking up at me, took the words from my mouth. "Never seen you before in my life," he said, "but your last name has got to be Weasley. You look just like your father." He checked my name off a list and scanned me with a sort of long, flexible stick.

"Wand," ordered the security guard. I pulled it from the pocket of my robes, hesitant to give it up. I knew this was official procedure, but I hated giving my wand to another person for any reason.

He placed my wand on the brass scales, which a moment later produced a strip of parchment. "Thirteen and a quarter inches, laurel, dragon heartstring core, been in use seven years. Correct?"

"Yes, sir."

He returned my wand. "I keep the paper. Say hello to your father for me."

"I will. Thank you, sir."

I spun my wand in my fingertips as I headed to the lifts. It was an absolutely perfect proportional length. When the end rested in the crook of my elbow, the tip lay in the center of my palm. It was my most prized possession, and I made sure to take the care to maintain it.

I remembered perfectly the day my parents, Bill, and Charlie had taken me to Ollivander's. My overwhelming thought had been that I wished they would leave me alone to wander the shop for hours, touching every wand until I found the one that was perfect for me. It seemed to me a library of magic, every box containing knowledge that for a short time would be mine alone to acquire. I would find the perfect wand, one that was something more than a wand, an extension of myself.

I had known from the minute I touched the wand that it was mine, even before my fingers closed around the handle. It was warm and seemed to vibrate in my grasp. My breath caught when I touched it, and Bill must have seen my expression.

"Found one, Percy?"

In that moment, I was incapable of speaking. It had hit me right then that I was magical, that I had something that separated me from Muggles, that I could perform charms and Transfigure, that I would go to school and learn to do everything I saw Bill and Charlie doing and more.

"This one," I had managed to say, though my throat was tight with knowledge. This was what they meant by the term "wizard," that surge of energy that would allow me to control and change and mutate the world. I had abilities most of the world's population could never begin to fathom, and I would cultivate them, rise above the norm.

Mr. Ollivander had to pull my wand out of my hand in order to put it in the box. "A most unusual wand you've chosen, Percy Weasley...or shall I say it's a most unusual wand that has chosen you."

"What do you mean?"

"Laurel. Very few wands are crafted from laurel, and fewer wizards still are capable, or deserving, of bearing one. You aspire to great things, you will work hard to achieve them, and you will attain them, oh yes, absolutely."

"It just...it felt right."

He smiled at me, pale blue eyes focused on my own. "I know, Percy. I know."

Following the groggy masses of Ministry workers toward the lifts, I walked in and mimicked everyone else's motions, ducking the memos that flew into the lift with us. At level five, I squeezed past the very large wizard in front of me and followed the signs down the hall and to the right. Checking my watch, I was pleased to see that I was ten minutes early. Perfect. It was just enough time to take care of anything that had to be done before I could officially start my day, but not so much as to look overly eager. When I reached the door of the office of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, I made sure to stand straight and walk through as though I had been doing this for years.

The office was nearly empty but for a few people who barely looked up from their desks as I entered. I paused in the doorway, looking for Mr. Crouch. When I didn't see him, I approached the woman sitting at the desk closest to the doorway.

"Pardon me, madam, but I start work in this department today and-"

"Mr. Weasley! Glad to see you made it without too much trouble," interrupted Mr. Crouch, coming out of his private office, which was located just off the west wall of the room.

"Thank you, Mr. Crouch." I extended my hand to shake his. "Really, I had no trouble at all. I'm glad to be here."

"Have you been through security and had your wand weighed?"

"Yes," I replied, proud that I was already a step ahead of the game.

"Good. I assume you're ready to get started?" Mr. Crouch indicated an empty desk to one side of the room.

Turning to make eye contact, I couldn't help but smile. "I am, sir."