Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

S. Miriam Hornbach

Chapter Two — Weep, O Mine Eyes

"Weep, O mine eyes, and cease not.

Alas, these your spring tides, me thinks increase not.

Oh, when begin you to swell so high that I may drown me in you?"

-The King’s Singers, "Weep, O Mine Eyes"

Tuesday, October 28, 2003

Ginny waved to Percy’s secretary as she came back from lunch in Diagon Alley. "Nancy, did Perce- erm, did Undersecretary Weasley leave any memos for me?" She rolled her eyes. Her bloody brother and she couldn’t even call him by his first name at work.

The thin, pale witch sitting at a plain wooden desk out in front of the office proclaiming "Percival Weasley — Undersecretary of Internal Affairs" shrugged. "He didn’t say anything. He’s still in there working, you know."

"Hm, he was supposed to go home hours ago. What a pity." Ginny shrugged back. "Well, anything else?"

"An owl came for you, miss. I sent him to wait in your office; the package was to be delivered only to you." Nancy pulled a stack of parchments from a filing bin and started paging through them, assuming her superior would be fine.

Ginny sighed and pushed open the door to her tiny office. Working for the Department of Internal Affairs was certainly more interesting than working under her father in Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, but working under her brother was pure torture. He’d taken up the position after Lucius Malfoy, the previous Undersecretary, had been found guilty of conspiring with the Dark Lord a few years earlier. He’d actually seemed sorry the Death Eater had been tossed in Azkaban!

Just as Nancy had said, a non-descript brown owl was perched on her desk, a long slim package clutched in his talons. Ginny placed a few sickles in the pouch strapped to his leg and he let off the package, allowing himself to be ushered out the window. Definitely a Diagon Alley rented post owl, from the haughty look he sent Ginny before soaring off to collect his next delivery.

She looked at the date on her calendar. Tuesday, October 28, 2003. Ginny choked back a sob as the scene exactly two years earlier in the Three Broomsticks played through her mind again. She’d excused herself to the restroom, shocked to hear screams of panic as she was ready to step out once again. October 28^th had been a Sunday, in 2001, one of the dozens of Bloody Sundays that decimated the wizarding population starting not long after Harry Potter and his friends graduated from Hogwarts. Ginny didn’t blame Harry when he’d disappeared from the wizarding world entirely, only a few months later. Even Ron didn’t know where to find him.

She’d thought she was going to die when she’d heard the screams. No one had ever survived a Death Eater attack, after Voldemort’s return. No one but Harry Potter; and with the Boy Who Lived gone from the wizarding world, morale had fallen to the point where day to day living was nothing short of an exercise in terror. She’d thought she was going to die, but when the screams had faded away and she’d stepped back into the main section of the little pub, she came face to face with evil, and lived.

Or maybe he hadn’t been evil. He’d taken off his mask; he’d looked sad and hurt. He’d given her the scarf... and he’d run away. And then she’d found Neville’s body, and life changed.

With a deep breath, she took the lid off the package, revealing a single white rose. She’d known it was coming. The day after her fiancée’s death, she’d received one. One year earlier, she’d found a white rose waiting for her when she made it to work. And now... the third rose. No note, nothing to suggest who’d sent it. Only the beauty of the rose betraying it’s probable origin in a wealthy area of the wizarding world.

Ginny sighed and set the rose aside, delving into her work to forget the despair which hung over her on the yearly anniversary of Neville’s death. A knock on her door, a short while later, pulled her back to reality. "Yes? Who is it?"

Her brother stepped in, looking every bit the nickname of Pompous Percy, which he’d been given by their twin brothers years earlier. "I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way out, Virginia. I’ve left a few things for you on my desk. Don’t bother picking them up until you head home, they aren’t important."

"More work? Christ, Percy, you know what day it is! Can’t you leave off for one bloody day?" She slammed her palm against the table, massaging her temple with her other hand. "You didn’t work for a year after you lost Penny! But no, you had me back in here a week after he was gone! Damn you, Percy, I’m sick of it!"

Though he winced visibly at his dead girlfriend’s name, the aloof glare Percy regarded his sister with was colder than she’d ever seen. "Maybe tomorrow, your life will be a bit different," he hissed. He winced again, rubbing at his left arm distractedly. "Actually, I’m positive that tomorrow morning will bring quite a few differences. Now if you’ll excuse me, Virginia, I have important things to attend to, rather than moaning over a dead lover." The glare in his eyes was pure ice as he slammed the door behind himself.

Ginny stared in shock. Her first reaction would be to burst into tears and run sobbing from the Ministry building, but the coldness, the arrogance, the hate in her brother’s eyes was overwhelming. She’d never seen him like that, not even after Penelope had died in an accident on a Muggle subway years before. She shot to her feet and pushed the door open. "Nancy, did he leave already?"

"The bloody git slapped enough work on my desk to last me until next year!" The older woman scowled and glared at the closed office door. "Yes, he left. And good riddance! I don’t care if he never shows up here again! It would certainly make my life easier!"

"All of ours," Ginny murmured, opening the door to her brother’s office. She was shocked by her first vision of it. Usually, the place was impeccably cleaned. A stack of papers had been tossed haphazardly on the floor, the garbage can was overflowing with junk of all sorts. An unsheathed knife was lying across Percy’s desk, along with a note and a small velvet box. The rest of the office was similarly in shambles. He’d have hell to pick up the next morning.

With a frightened yelp, Ginny grabbed for the box and pulled it open, fearing for the worst. "Gods, Percy, what are you planning?" There, set in the box, was the engagement ring Percy had bought to give to Penelope, on the day she’d been in the explosion. Ginny set the box back down, hand shaking as she picked up the letter on the desk, very clearly addressed to her in Percy’s bold writing. She ripped the envelope away, and unfolded the paper.

Virginia-

By the time you read this, I expect the events of yesterday will have come to light. I wouldn’t be surprised if they suggest the Imperious Curse. Don’t be fooled. Even if I can’t do it myself, the damned Muggles who caused my Penny’s death will pay for it. Lucius assured me of that, long ago. I’d advise you to be wary of the company you keep, Virginia. Your current friends will no doubt land you on the wrong side of the fight.

Ever yours,

Percival

Ginny screamed and turned to run for the door. She somehow knew, however, that it was already too late.