Pathway to Perdition

Part 1

A junior aide to the Minister of Magic, Percy Weasley suspects, should not be sent to Azkaban.

And yet here he is, following a gnarled warden through the dank corridors of the fortress. Even inside, the song of the sea whipping the steep cliffs of the island fills his ears.

Although Percy is a Ministry representative, the Keeper of the Keys of Azkaban has not received him upon his arrival, just sent the warden to escort him down to Lucius Malfoy's cell. Percy is conscious of the slight, and regrets the time spent on preparing and rehearsing the few short lines carefully designed to convey nothing of Minister Scrimgeour's intentions. It is not, however, a slight directed at Percy specifically, and he doesn't mind escaping the notice of the ancient Keeper, whom decades of ruling over the fortress have turned into a frightening creature of legend. A fame only demystified recently by his notorious inability to keep either Death Eaters or Dementors confined inside the prison...

No, Percy is not unhappy about not encountering another scary authority figure. Not when the authority figure he has come to meet is intimidating enough. Percy's palms moisten, and the same nervous sweat starts pooling under his armpits.

Minister Scrimgeour has not been pleased about having Malfoy's letter foisted on him, smuggled out of Azkaban in however convoluted ways. Not after publicly denouncing the preceding administration's fraternisation with high-ranking Death Eaters. It is, Percy suspects, why he has found himself on the job. The Minster respects his hard work and dedication, no doubt about it, but is not above subtle reminders to Percy's close ties with the former Minister. He was also less than impressed by Percy's failure to soften up young Potter when the Minister approached him the previous Christmas.

Yet Minister Scrimgeour is a shrewd, sharp man who will not disregard an offer of 'information pertaining to the defeat of the Dark Lord', even if it comes from Cornelius Fudge's disgraced old friend Lucius Malfoy.

Passing through the maze of dusty corridors, Percy mourns the way his new robes snag on jagged stone, their hem whirling up dust and debris with every step. He knew it would be dirty, and yet the thought of facing Lucius Malfoy did not permit him to dress any way but smartly. The man will have no reason to look down at him as if he were at a bedraggled beggar; not that he'd have any right, being a condemned Death Eater.

The massive stone door the warden stops in front of is no different from any other in the long corridor they've passed through. Percy quickly wipes his hands on his robe, pulse hammering in his throat.

"That's 'im in 'ere," the guard drawls. "'e'll be restrained, of course, but if yeh wan' me inside with yeh-?"

Percy shakes his head quickly. The Minster's business is confidential and Percy will not hide behind a guard while facing a restrained Lucius Malfoy. He's a Gryffindor, after all.

The guard shrugs. "I'll be outside, then. Knock when yer done with 'im."

The door slides open with the tortured squeal of stone meeting gravel, and Percy steps inside after a quick, hard swallow.

He blinks twice against the dimness of the cell, although Malfoy is hard to overlook even in the insufficient light from the two Lumos Torches on the wall. The Death Eater is seated at a massive stone table that dwarfs the tiny room, hands cuffed crosswise and then manacled to the table top in front of him for additional security. On the opposite side of the table, another rough-hewn stone chair waits empty for Percy's use.

"Mr Malfoy," Percy says as soon as the door has banged shut again, hoping his voice sounds shaky only to his own ears. "The Ministry of Magic has received notice that you intend to... reconsider your loyalties to You Know Who and that you claim to be in possession of information pertaining to his weaknesses?" He turns the carefully rehearsed sentence into a question halfway through, and Malfoy looks straight at him, uncomfortably direct.

"Won't you take a seat?" he offers, irony treacle-thick in his voice. Percy flushes and considers keeping his distance; but it would make him look pompous to insist on standing, or - even worse - insecure. He slides onto the free chair opposite Malfoy, which turns out to be as uncomfortable as it looks, carelessly hewn and cold. Malfoy sits on his without betraying a sign of discomfort, so Percy suppresses any grimace of his own.

He puts his slim briefcase on the table, which is empty except for a few blank sheets of parchment and Percy's plain blue-grey Quick Quotes Quill. There will be no written report on this conversation.

"So they sent you," Malfoy observes.

His mouth turns down in an ever so slight contemptuous arc as if he was being called upon to review Percy's performance, and found it wanting. There is a reason why Percy has always avoided encounters with this particular criminal even way back when he'd still been Minister Fudge's aide, to the extent of locking himself in the lavatories until Malfoy had left. He had no taste for standing there, tongue-tied and red-faced and being pinned by the man's derisive stare while he sneered at Percy's family. Percy grits his teeth and says, "Yes, me."

"Yes, indeed. I recognise your origins, of course. Which one of Arthur's are you again?"

"Percy," Percy replies, trying not to snarl too obviously because yes, it might not just be mockery. Even Mr Crouch had not always been able to tell him apart from the anonymous mass of Weasley brothers. A second later he regrets not having given his full name, even though he's always hated 'Percival'.

"Ah, yes," Malfoy muses. "The traitor."

Bitterness spills in Percy's chest, and his glare burns through his professional mask.

"I don't think that working for the Ministry instead of aiding the split of the magical community makes me a traitor!" he snaps. And no, Malfoy does not deserve a reply. Percy's ears burn with the shame of being so easily backed into a corner.

Malfoy's sculpted lips curl into a thin smile. "Oh, you don't have to justify yourself to me, Percy - you don't mind me using your given name, do you? It makes it easier to tell you apart from all the other Mr Weasleys."

And although he should object to familiarity from a Death Eater, Percy really doesn't mind. As much as he despises the man, Malfoy has been respectable once. He's had money, status and manners even when his reputation was slightly tainted by his past... indiscretions. There was a time when rumours of being a 'Dark Wizard' still sounded somewhat more glamorous than being known as 'Arthur's young one' and all the lack of expectation that came with that.

"I'm not here to speak about me, Mr Malfoy," he returns to the topic at hand. "I'm here to discuss what you might do to aid the Ministry's battle against He Who Must Not Be Named."

"So assiduous..." At the close proximity, Percy can see that Malfoy's long, fine hair is tangled and grimy, his grey prison robes threadbare at the elbows, and that there is dirt under his fingernails where his hands are chained to the table. The loss of polish should make the tight ring of apprehension inside Percy's chest ease, but it doesn't. "Tell me, then, Percy - how have relations progressed between the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix after Albus Dumbledore's... unfortunate demise?"

"... in which your fugitive son has been implicated," Percy adds with a touch of malice.

Percy remembers young Malfoy, pale spitefulness sniping at him in a corridor in front of some lumbering goons. A thoroughly unpleasant boy.

"My son has been forced to do the Dark Lord's bidding with threats to his mother's life and my own," Malfoy shoots back, discomposed for the first time. "A guarantee of his safety - and that of my wife - is one of the conditions the Ministry will have to meet if you want my cooperation."

"Do you really believe you are in a position to demand concessions?" Percy asks, incredulous.

Malfoy's smile vanishes. "Oh, very much so. Although it is not so much the Ministry I happen to be interested in, beyond its ability to effect my release from this inhospitable place." A grimace twists the arrogant face, like the response to a faintly aching tooth. "It will be necessary to contact Harry Potter, or whoever handles him these days; I don't assume he's permitted to roam free on his own."

As always, the name 'Harry Potter' serves to raise Percy's hackles. He still retains some affection for the shy, ill-used child who had been a first-year at Hogwarts and Ron's quiet shadow at the Burrow. And who then had, almost imperceptibly, morphed into an arrogant, hostile youth who revived You Know Who, dragged Percy's young siblings off into hair-raising dangers, had antagonised the Ministry and brought about the downfall of Minister Fudge. Now once or twice Mr Fudge might have acted too imprudent and gullible for a wizard in his position, but Percy had still respected him.

The dislike on Percy's face gives him away, and Malfoy smiles, slow and poisonous. "How very rare to encounter someone who is not thoroughly taken in by famous Mr Potter..." Percy tries to think of a way to object without quite objecting, but can't find words to achieve that feat.

"Now, Percy..." Malfoy leans back as much as his cuffs allow, "what do you know about Horcruxes?"

Percy is quite sure he's never heard the word before, even in his NEWT-level Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts studies. He racks his brain for a moment, but comes up empty. "I've never encountered the term," he admits stiffly, the tips of his ears heating as if he'd been caught unprepared in class.

"Ah, the joys of Hogwarts' selective education," Malfoy sighs. "It's unsurprising, really, that the Dark Lord could become this powerful with the late lamented Albus censoring knowledge as he did."

Again, Percy wishes he could say something, anything, in defence of his beloved school, but Malfoy is right - if Dumbledore had not been so secretive with Minister Scrimgeour about the sources of his knowledge, so obstinately intent on having his own way, things would never have deteriorated this far.

"Horcruxes," Malfoy explains with a pitying shake of the head, "are what the Dark Lord has used to cheat death. He split his soul. I'm sure that if you quote the term to your elders at the Ministry, at least one or two might recognise it."

"And how-" Percy swallows to keep his voice from croaking- "how will your knowledge of these... 'Horcruxes' contribute to the Ministry's struggle against He Who Must Not Be Named?"

"They need to be destroyed in order to give an attack on the Dark Lord himself any chance of succeeding." Malfoy smiles, very mildly. "I happen to know the location of one; how to access it and - most importantly - how to destroy it. I would assume that is enough to warrant concessions from the Ministry."

Percy tries fitfully to rein in his thoughts, which are running away in several directions at once. Malfoy may be trying to hoodwink him; the story could be entirely bogus, designed to mislead the Ministry, which will, in the end, fall back on Percy as the scapegoat. But if it is true, and Malfoy really knows how to execute a step in the downfall of the Dark Lord... Malfoy surely has every reason to be furious at You Know Who. And if he, Percy, can contribute to such a victory, it will mean a jump-start to his career. It will mean showing certain people that you do not have to antagonise the Ministry to fight against the Dark...

"I would think so," he finally nods, trying to appear indifferent. Don't promise anything, he tells himself sternly. "I'm sure that improved conditions of confinement could be arranged-" He falls silent at Malfoy's contemptuous snort.

"Don't try to bargain with me, Percy, you're not made for it." Percy's lips thin as he tries to figure out whether that would qualify as an insult or an underhanded compliment. Coming from an arch-Slytherin, it's most likely the latter.

"A full pardon," Malfoy clarifies. "Auror protection for my wife and son, as well as for myself after I've aided you in destroying the Horcrux. I am not going to bargain, Percy, and you may tell Rufus Scrimgeour that I am rather unimpressed by Veritaserum and minor Unforgivables."

There is an offensive subtext to this. But Percy has taken the minutes when Minister Scrimgeour debated the re-instigation of the Unforgivables for Aurors from the Crouch era with the heads of Magical Law Enforcement. He knows that the Ministry is not as averse to torture as it should be. He can't see someone like Malfoy breaking, however.

The Death Eater gives him a sardonic wink, as if he were able to read Percy's mind. And there is a spell like that, isn't there, and done wandless too... He's seen it referenced in internal memos on PROTECTING MINISTERIAL INTEGRITY AGAINST THE DARK FORCES.

"Unpleasant as such an encounter may be, I'd suggest you go and see young Potter to verify my information about the Horcruxes," Malfoy continues. "If he has shared it with anyone, Albus Dumbledore will have shared his knowledge with the 'Chosen One' he hopes will bring about the downfall of the Dark Lord. After that, you can negotiate my release with your superiors."

Percy's fingers close around the blue-grey plume of his Quick Quotes Quill at being sent off so much like a messenger boy, until he realises he will damage the fragile - and expensive - quill if he grips it any more tightly. He lets go and sweeps the quill into his briefcase. Malfoy gives him a hard, thoroughly unamused stare.

"And if even a hint of a rumour of these... negotiations gets out to endanger Draco and Narcissa, the one responsible will find himself out of a life to enjoy, no matter whether I'm imprisoned or not."

A hot flush of rage colours Percy's cheeks. "I am not in the habit of betraying the Ministry's confidentiality!" he growls, low and angry.

Malfoy slides his eyes over him, almost indecently probing as if he were looking at Percy for the first time. Then he nods. "Yes; I think you can keep your masters' secrets."

Percy remembers poor Bartemius Crouch and how his own loyalty was misconstrued as excessive ambition during the subsequent inquiry. He'd been ready to clear his desk after Minister Scrimgeour was appointed, because of his close ties with Mr Fudge; but his loyalty had impressed the new Minister enough to keep him on. Well, that, and the fact that he was still a Weasley and that his family had all but adopted Harry Potter.

In bitter silence, he gathers up his briefcase and makes to stand when Malfoy leans forward, chest digging into the iron cuffs around his wrists. The movement somehow glues Percy to his seat.

"And when you speak to Harry Potter," Malfoy breathes, and Percy has to lean closer to the man until a tangled strand of hair brushes his face because his tone is so soft, "and when he mocks you - and trust me, he will - tell him this..."

~ tbc. ~