Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

S. Miriam Hornbach

Chapter Three — I’d Fight for You, I’d Die for You

"You can’t tell me, it’s not worth trying for,

I can’t help it, there’s nothing I want more.

Yeah, I’d fight for you, I’d lie for you,

Want the world for you! Yeah, I’d die for you..."

-Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves Soundtrack, "I Do it For You"

Tuesday, October 28, 2003

Percival Weasley, Undersecretary of Internal Affairs, slipped largely unnoticed down the plush hallways of the Ministry of Magic building in London. Despite the shock of red hair he tried to forget he’d been born with, the oft-overlooked Weasley son was usually able to blend into the crowd well enough. "A useful skill," his mentor had once told him. He used it to his best, weaving through a throng of gaily laughing wizards, his hand hidden in his pocket, fingers wrapped around comforting cold metal.

His goal was just around the corner. Percy pushed open the wooden door marked with the words "Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic" and sauntered over to the secretary’s desk. "Why hello there! Miss Patil, isn’t it? Weren’t you at school with Ronald?"

With a gasp of recognition, Parvati stood from her paperwork. "Percy! What a wonderful surprise! How’s Ron? Are you still working down at International Cooperation?"

"No, no, I was transferred after Mr. Crouch was killed, over to Internal Affairs. After Undersecretary Malfoy was incarcerated, I got his job... you must be new to working here, or I’m sure you’d be aware?" Percy was barely able to restrain himself from glancing at the clock. He was quite certain Virginia would be finding the letter any moment. He had only minutes to complete his task.

"Yes! My first day! I’m so excited to be here! Isn’t Ginny working in Internal as well? And Lavender’s in Muggle Artifacts, she just adores it." Parvati beamed, ruffling through a few stacks of parchment.

Percy put on his most charming smile. "I’d love to have lunch with you another time, talk about old friends. I’ll tell you all about Ronald’s work with the Cannons... however, I have a meeting with Minister Fudge? He’s expecting me."

Parvati frowned in confusion. "You do? But he’s with the Headmaster right now... are you sure you’re here at the right time? I mean, I could look on the schedule, but I seem to have misplaced -"

"Trust me, this is the right time... I have a few things to discuss with the both of them. Confidential, of course...?" Percy kept smiling, sliding his wand from his pocket surreptitiously, just in case.

"Confidential? Oh. OH! Go on, go on! He said someone would be showing up partway, I’m sorry!" She flushed, snatching a piece of parchment from the table. "See? Here’s the memo! F. Weasley, I thought it said, but maybe that’s an odd looking P? Go right on in!"

"Thank you, Miss Patil." Percy opened the door to Fudge’s inner office, an alarm seeming to go off in his head. Fred was going to be here? Hopefully later rather than sooner... He slipped inside and closed the door once again, silently thanking whatever Gods there were than Minister Fudge was paranoid enough to surround his office with a permanent silencing charm.

"Fred, I’m so glad you could make it! Now, then, what was so important it couldn’t wait for the usual meeting time?" Fudge called from across the room. Percy thanked the Gods again, this time for the Weasley shade of hair he’d cursed for so long.

Percy turned to face the desk, wand still in one hand, and the Muggle weapon pulled from his pocket in the other. Headmaster Dumbledore and Minister Fudge stared on in shock as Percy slowly raised his weapon to point at Dumbledore. The old man didn’t have time to draw his wand before Percy fired.

The teacher’s eyes met the pupil’s for a brief moment. No anger, no regret. Only sadness — and pity. Red blossomed over the front of his pale robes, and the Hogwarts Headmaster sunk down into his chair.

He turned the handgun on the Minister of Magic. The pompous man was sputtering, staring in shock at the blank gaze of the former Headmaster. Percy imagined that his own eyes looked much the same. "Come now, Minister Fudge. No begging?"

Fudge managed to move his gaze from the body to his employee. "Weasley... why?"

"For Penny," he murmured. Without moving the gun from its position, trained between Fudge’s eyes, Percy carefully pushed up his sleeve. The Dark Mark burned black on the flesh of his forearm. "Everything I do, I do it for Penny. Goodbye, Minister." Rather over dramatic, he thought to himself, but the shock plastered on Fudge’s face before he was blown back into his chair was certainly worth it.

Overly calm, Percy lowered the gun and raised his wand. "Morsmorde," he murmured, sending the Dark Mark hovering over the work he’d done. There was a click, as the door handle was turned. Percy spun around, gun raised once more. He caught sight of a flash of red hair before he pulled the trigger once more.

The shot rang out into the atrium, and Percy heard Parvati shriek as the body of his latest killing dropped to the ground. The face — far too familiar. The breath caught in his throat as he stared down into the blank eyes of Fred Weasley.

A picture flashed through his mind’s eye, of Fred’s arrow on the family clock sliding slowly from "Work" to join Bill’s pointing to "In God’s Care." Percy choked, unaware of Parvati running for help, or Ginny reaching the outer door of the offices in a panic.

"I’m sorry, Penny," he whispered hoarsely, gaze locked on the unseeing eyes of his younger brother. Percy turned the gun on himself. Ginny screamed. He fired.

Mrs. Weasley bustled from the kitchen into the living room, carrying a cup of tea for her neighbor, Mrs. Bennington, who was visiting for dinner. As she passed the old grandfather clock, her eyes caught movement. Percy’s arrow moved slowly from "Work" to "In God’s Care," joining Bill’s — and Fred’s?

Molly shrieked, sending the scalding cup of tea crashing to the floor.