Of Dungeons and Dragons

I shouldn't be here. I belong somewhere else, serving Him, not here lollygagging with my family. I have chosen a new destiny, one they do not know about it. Why did I agree to come to dinner? I do not care much for my mother's cooking anymore, or her comments on, "When are you going to get married?"

I've left that side. I am now evil, or at least the definition of evil I was brought up to believe. Completely, completely evil.

For I serve He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

*~*~*

Bill served himself another pumpkin juice, and stumbled clumsily over to Ron and Percy.

"Hope mum will serve the food soon," he said. "I'm starving."

Percy pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Yes. I do have to get back to my Flobberworm report." He glanced disapprovingly at Ron and Bill's grins. "Mrs Figg told me it was most urgent."

Ron tried not to chuckle. "Ginny's been awfully quiet lately," he observed. "Do you think she might be ill?"

"Nah," Bill said. "She's probably just going through her fancying Harry mood."

"Teenage hormones," added Percy. "You had them once, too, Ron. You still do."

Ron blushed. "I'm eighteen and out of Hogwarts," he said snippily. "I do not have hormones."

Bill and Percy exchanged knowing glances. "Whatever you say, Ron," snickered Bill.

*~*~*

Maybe I could tell mum I'm not feeling well. I could say they need me at work, they always do. She wouldn't mind too much. I do not want to be here. My Lord needs me.

I never imagined joining the dark side. It came quite as a shock when I got the offer. They said I had great potential, that I had ambition. I always felt like I needed something more than my simple life, my simple family. I wanted power.

I greatly believe that every of my siblings my want power at one time or another. How could they not? They are each a Weasley boy, looked over by my mother's sharp eye. Each of them have reasons to serve my Lord, yet they do not. They are weak.

I do not kill, though, I simply torture. Whether my victims live or die, I do not believe it is up to me. If they die, they were weak; if they survive, they are stronger than we thought.

*~*~*

Ginny glanced up at the sky in despair. She knew Harry didn't love her the way she did him. It was obvious he was still in a fluster for Cho Chang. She sighed, and glanced over to the men in her family. They all knew she fancied Harry, yet they never did anything to help. She couldn't blame them, she supposed, they were men, and those matters were unimportant.

"Hullo, Ginny," Fred interrupted, settling down next to her. "What are we looking at?"

Ginny giggled. "Nothing." She sat up and stared at him. "How are things with Natasha going?"

"Quite nicely," Fred said earnestly. "She's dragging me to the Muggle theatre on Sunday."

"Oh, I love the theatre!" exclaimed Ginny. "They had this brilliant musical called Joseph and the Amazing Techni-coloured Dreamcoat Hermione took me to."

"Maybe you could come as well," Fred said. "Bring a bloke from your year or something."

Ginny immediately pictured her and Harry chatting over fish and chips, before making an elegant entrance to the theatre. The image immediately faded when Cho waltzed in, looking spectacular. "I don't think any of the boys in my class would want to go," she said, trying not to look upset. "Most don't even know what the theatre is."

"How about that Colin boy?" Fred asked. "Isn't he Muggle-born?"

Ginny shook her head. "He doesn't like the fine arts. He'd rather spend his time pulling apart a racing broom, and taking pictures of a dragon."

Fred laughed. "Maybe next time, then. I'll take you. Natasha can surely find tickets."

*~*~*

There is nothing more awkward to me then to see my family bonding. We all know each other in and out. We know each other's fears and loves.

They don't know me anymore. On the outside I am still the Weasley they raised; on the inside I am no more.

I suspect one of them knows already. I've seen him watching me at night. His curious glances flickering from my face to my arm.

He's done it various times already, that I've noticed. He doesn't say anything though, he might be afraid.

If he knows what's best, he'll keep quiet. If I suspect he'll speak, I'll have to kill him. But I won't.

I'll get someone else to do it.

I hope he keeps shut.

*~*~*

Charlie and George tossed a Quaffle between themselves.

"Her name's Elizabeth," George said, launching the Quidditch ball. "She stops by the shop every Friday. She's really pretty."

Charlie caught the Quaffle and grinned. Even though he hadn't played Quidditch in ages, he still had good reflexes. "Have you charmed her?"

"No," George said, jumping to catch the sailing Quaffle. "I think she's married. Came in with a bloke once... he looked really familiar."

"What's her last name?" Charlie asked, using his hand to shade his eyes from the sun.

"Elizabeth... something with p... Pennyworth!" exclaimed George, throwing the ball again.

Charlie dropped the ball suddenly. "Pennyworth? Elizabeth Pennyworth, as in from Pennyworth's Sweets Society for All Wizards?" He rolled his eyes at George's stupid expression. "The second best-selling sweet company besides Honeydukes! It's international."

"Oh," whispered George. "Is she married, then?"

*~*~*

Someone was watching me, I could tell. When I turned around, though, everyone had found someone to talk to. My first guess would have been my sibling who had his suspicions of me, but some instinct told me it was not someone from my family.

I glanced at the ground. Quick as a Firebolt, I saw a small rat dash off towards the forest.

*~*~*

"England's got to win against Portugal," Charlie commented, during dinner. "They've got a wicked team now."

"Portugal has Gonzalez, though," interrupted Bill. "He's better than any of the English players."

"England has Harry," squeaked Ginny. "He's the best Seeker is all of England. Wizard's Sports says so."

"Harry's just a learner to all this," Fred said. "Gonzalez has been playing for five years."

"I'm betting on England," Ron said positively.

"I reckon Portugal," Arthur Weasley interrupted. "Bill has a point. Gonzalez is the best player now." He allowed Mrs. Weasley to serve him a buttered scone. "What do you think, Percy?"

Percy shook his head, as from coming out of a deep thought. "I'm not much into Quidditch," he claimed. "If you'll excuse me, I have a report to finish."

"It's all right, Percy, go on," Mrs. Weasley said, practically glowing. When he left, she shot the rest of her sons a sceptical look. "If you would all work instead of skiving around..."

*~*~*

I watched Percy leave. He looked upset.

A few months ago, before Ron had left his last year at Hogwarts, he and Harry were discussing old Perce. Ron guaranteed that out of all us Weasleys, Percy would be the only one who would want to go to the other side.

How I would like to show him he's wrong. Percy's still the good, little boy he was at Hogwarts. I, on the other hand, am the Weasley to go to the other side.

*~*~*

After dinner, Charlie and Bill had the task of cleaning the dishes. Something they did in a matter of seconds.

"I have to return to Egypt in the morning," Bill said, drying his hands. "Monique Kambo, my boss, wasn't too keen on me coming to visit."

"Dragons weren't protesting against me," Charlie said, with a grin. "I'm sure they threw a party and everything."

Bill gave his brother a friendly pat. "I'm off to bed, then. See you in the morning, cheek."

Charlie gave him a nod, and settled onto the couch. The day had passed quite quickly, and he felt no need to sleep. Maybe a good book and a cup of mum's cocoa might calm me, he thought.

Getting up to pick a book from his father's library, Charlie pulled on a brown jumper to fight off the cold.

A clack in the room suddenly scared him. Standing next to the fireplace, hair dishevelled and sleepy, was Percy. Charlie had a sudden image, a memory more like it, of one Christmas evening. He had come downstairs and found Percy, who had been nine or so at that time, fast asleep in front of the fire, waiting for his presents.

"I thought you were working on your report," Charlie commented, picking Deathly Hexes and How To Avoid Them from the book shelf.

Percy didn't say anything. He looked at Charlie. Neither said a word. Percy just watched his older brother carefully. Charlie fingered the book cover, and looked back.

"Am I right?" Percy finally spoke. "Are you one of them?"

*~*~*

And that is when I knew.

Percy would have to die.