Dream Deferred

Chapter 2

Sunlight was peaking through the curtains the next morning when Percy was woken by an owl. Opening his eyes, he sat up and stretched the relieve the kinks in the back of his neck. It was no wonder he was sore - it seemed he'd spent the entire night on the couch. The two empty wine bottles on the floor by his feet told him why he couldn't remember his decision to stay there. He'd bought that wine, expensive wine, intending to bring Penelope by to celebrate. Instead he'd celebrated the beginning of the new life he would build up all on his own. Alone.

He bent to take the letter the owl had delivered from the floor, and then quickly lay back for a moment when he realized his mistake in that action. He found his glasses jammed between two cushions. Dragging himself off the couch, he took the letter with him into the kitchen where he waved his wand a few times to get a pot of coffee brewing. Percy sat down at the table, and took a look at the fat envelope in his hands. It was postmarked from America, meaning it was likely from young Karl Flourish. He and Percy had exchanged letters off and on for the last year. Percy had found it therapeutic to have someone to tell all about Crouch - someone who really cared about what he had to say. He had found himself beginning to regard Karl as the adoring younger brother he'd never really had. Wincing slightly at his pounding headache, Percy opened the letter and began to read.

Dear Percy,

You'll never believe the news mom gave me when I came home from school. She's enrolled me in Hogwarts for the fall! Apparently it was one of the conditions of Father's Will. So now, rather then moving up to the secondary level of Merton, where I had a guaranteed position on the Quodpot team, I have to go to some stuffy British school. (No offense-even if you don't even have Quodpot.) We'll be arriving at the end of the month. Mom seems to think I'll need a month to adjust to Britain before she abandons me at Hogwarts.

She's at least throwing me a party so that I have a chance to say good bye to all my friends. The least she could do, considering she didn't tell me while I was still at school. Apparently my teachers knew, but mom made them promise not to tell me. How fair is that? It's my life, not hers. All of this is really making me wish she'd just let me see what Father's Will actually says. I'm sure there's some part in there that says she's not allowed to keep everything about my Father and what he said about me a secret. Maybe when I'm actually in Britain I'll have a better chance of seeing it.

So what's Hogwarts like? You were Head Boy there, didn't you say once? Is that like school president? Do you know anyone there now? Stacey Boot's cousin is there and Stacey mentioned once that they have some really weird traditions. Do you really have to serve detention under a murderous ghost? My little sister, Emily, has an article about how a giant teaches there in her stupid Harry Potter scrapbook. (Oh great, Harry Potter goes to Hogwarts, doesn't he?) And what's the deal with your Houses? I mean, we split our houses by your home region, but I get the impression that it's something different over there. Which are the best dueling clubs? I hope I stand some chance at getting into a good one even though I'm starting late.

Anyhow, I don't think I'm going to have much of a choice in this matter. Dad's been quieter then mom about it, but I get the impression that he sees this as being necessary. I don't think he likes the idea though. What a surprise, as it has to do with Father.

Enough of that. I wanted to ask you about a couple things you said in your last letter. So this You-Know-Who that's back, you've said Father was the person responsible for holding him at bay during the last war? I heard mom and dad saying something about how Hogwarts was the safest place I could be in Britain right now, because Dumbledore was the only one who could fight You-Know-Who. (I think that might have been part of the reason dad didn't like the idea of me going, the fact that there's a war going on.)

Did Father and Dumbledore work together? I mean, Dumbledore's kind of a nut, isn't he? I looked occasionally at the British papers in the library this year at school, and he was in a lot of the cartoons in the editorial sections. I didn't really understand exactly what they were saying, but they seemed to refer to him as if he was crazy. Yet mom and dad have spoken very highly of him when talking about Hogwarts. Apparently he was at their wedding or something. I think I remember him being at The Funeral. Wasn't he saying something about You-Know-Who being back then already? And something about Father's other son?

I guess the Ministry is really scrambling now, what with Father being dead, and Dumbledore gone mad. What do you think my Father would do if he was still around? Did he ever think that You-Know-Who would come back?

The letter went on for another page or so, but Percy couldn't concentrate on it any more. Karl had a tendency to come to the wildest conclusions based on his limited knowledge of Barty Crouch and the British wizarding society. They were usually amusing, but not when Percy was suffering through the first major hangover of his life. Noticing the coffee had brewed, Percy rose to pour himself a cup. Returning to the table, he noticed another letter addressed to him sitting on top of the thick Saturday edition of the Daily Prophet. Percy picked it up, intrigued by the seal. After taking a few sips of coffee, he opened it.

Percy Weasley,

It has come to my attention that you are currently seeking a new position. As chance has it, I am currently looking to create a small support staff for an upcoming project. I have heard your credentials are quite good, and I think you may be who I am looking for. If you'd like to meet to discuss this further, please send an owl back with details of when is convenient for you.

Sincerely,

Lucius Malfoy

Percy couldn't help but feel smug. Twenty four hours after he'd left Fudge, and already offers were coming in. He didn't need Fudge, and he certainly didn't need Frederick Clearwater. The only thing of sense Penelope had said the night before was that muggleborns didn't have much influence within the Ministry. Lucius Malfoy on the other hand, well, the Malfoys were a very old and powerful family. Percy wasn't sure of all the details of Malfoy's latest snafu with being arrested, but he knew that he never went further than an outer holding cell in Azkaban, and Amelia Bones had since cleared him of all charges. Just one more example of the current incompetence in the Department of Law Enforcement. When they finally do arrest someone, it's the wrong person.

Lucius Malfoy was a wizard who had intrigued Percy long before he began working in the Ministry. Growing up, he had never heard any good of a Malfoy, yet not even a month had passed working for Barty Crouch before he realized that Lucius was greatly respected by his mentor. Both rumor and success never seemed to be too far away from Lucius Malfoy. He always had his fingers in a few pots, so Percy wasn't sure exactly what was being offered, but it was definitely something to consider none the less.

Finishing his cup of coffee, he sat back to think through the previous evening. He knew that Penelope, in her way, was trying to help him. He just didn't want that kind of help, and if Penelope thought he'd accept it... Percy sighed. He thought Penelope knew him better than that. Still wearing his dress robes from the previous evening - they'd need a good cleansing spell now - he pulled the ring out of his pocket. For a few minutes he just sat there, twisting it around in his fingers, watching the sunlight catch on the diamond. The ring had been his inheritance from his great-grandparents. Bill had got the family spell book, Charlie, Great-Grandfather's wand, and he got the wedding ring. Percy suddenly wondered if Fred and George had come into possession of the sword and shield that had been held in trust for them until they were of age. They'd probably sold it to get enough capital to invest in the property he'd heard they opened. He doubted they'd place much value on the family history.

The ring was more than just a scrap of gold and a diamond. Percy knew that a lot of old magic had been woven into it. If he had given it to Penelope, it would have protected her from many dangers. It also would have sealed their commitment. If she'd taken that ring, and put it on, there was no way he could have asked for it back. It would have bound them him to her till death did them part.

Percy made a tight fist around the ring, and pounded it down on the table. It just wasn't right. Penelope was the one thing in his world that had made sense through it all. His family didn't understand him, everything he believed at work kept being ripped out from underneath him, but Penelope had always been there. Even now, after everything that had happened, he couldn't imagine his life without her. Percy didn't regret walking out, but there had to be something, somehow, that could make that relationship work. He needed it.

"I thought I smelt coffee."

Percy looked up through bloodshot eyes to see his cousin and flat mate, Marco Weasley, walk in and drain the coffee pot into a cup of his own. When Percy started to protest, Marco tossed him a vial of something that looked particularly vile indeed.

"Hangover remedy. You were passed out on the couch when I got home from work last night, so I assumed you'd need some. It goes down easier if you hold your nose." With no other greeting, Marco took a seat at the table with Percy. His disheveled hair and the shadow on his chin suggested he hadn't been up long himself.

Percy looked at the potion suspiciously, wishing he could come up with a reason to distrust it. Marco was in his last year of training as a healer at St. Mungo's, however, and definitely had more experience with hangovers then Percy had in his relatively sober life. So taking Marco's advice to hold his nose, he downed the remedy, grimacing as he swallowed.

"What are you doing up so early if you worked late last night?" Percy asked, automatically lifting his coffee up to wash away the taste only to be reminded that there were only drops left. He glared at the full mug in Marco's hand. His cousin only laughed at him.

"More caffeine will only mess with the potion, cousin. As for my early rising, well, eleven is reasonable even for me."

"Eleven? It's eleven o clock?" Percy looked sharply at the clock on the wall he'd ignored previously. "I don't believe this, half the day is wasted!"

"From what I could see, you wasted half the night away drinking. Alone, I may add, which was not the plan if I remember correctly. I, er, take it things didn't go so well."

"No," Percy said flatly. "And before you ask, I don't want to talk about it."

"Suit yourself."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes; Marco drinking his coffee, Percy mentally going through his schedule to reassure himself this lie-in wasn't going to cause it much harm. Silences were normal between the two very different flat mates, and often preferable to Percy than dialogue. Marco was, well, not half as bad as Percy's immediate family, which was why he'd agreed in the first place to the idea that they could live much more comfortably putting both their incomes towards rent. He definitely wasn't your standard Weasley, and not just because he'd inherited his Italian born mother's dark hair and olive skin rather then the trademark Weasley red hair and freckles. Percy had just always assumed that his smart, headed for success cousin was a little less carefree then he'd turned out to be. Picking up the Daily Prophet, he was shocked out of his mental organization by the front headline.

"Did you see this?" he asked Marco incredulously.

"They managed to get it into today's paper then," Marco said as if he'd been waiting for Percy to say something.

"You knew about this?"

"I told you I worked late last night. Let me see that. If they managed not to bungle the story with the rush they must have put on it, I'll be very surprised."

"Large scale Muggle torture, yes, they got that right. The Dark Mark seen in the sky for a mile around, well, that may be a slight exaggeration. Muggles sent to St. Mungo's for extensive emergency treatment, deaths reported..." Marco had a bitter smile on his face as he spoke. "A few of those who did survive may be wishing they hadn't for awhile yet. Ministry Aurors were prompt in arriving to the scene. Ha!" Marco's smile dissolved into a short laugh. "If the Aurors had come any later, the whole thing might have gone unnoticed. From what I heard, at least."

"Did they catch anyone?" Percy snatched the paper back and skimmed through the article again.

"According to this article, half a dozen people," Marco said dourly

"Really?" Percy said excitedly, reaching that point in the story himself. "Excellent. You-Know-Who's return is going to be rather short lived if this continues."

Marco looked at Percy blankly. "One thing that article fails to mention is that there were over a hundred attackers last night."

Percy was silent for a moment at this shocking fact. How had You-Know-Who been able to gather so much support in so short a period of time? Percy knew his history, and he was old enough to have lived through part of this history. Even at the height of Voldemort's power there hadn't been that many known Death Eaters.

"Were they all Death Eaters?" he asked, trying to piece things together. He knew that the number of people who had been sympathetic to You-Know-Who's cause had been a much higher number. However, in the past, displays like this had been staged only by the Death Eaters themselves.

"Well, they hardly walked around wearing badges. The Dark Mark was shot up into the sky at any rate. If the Aurors really did manage to catch a few of them, I'm sure you'll hear about it sooner than I will. After all, you're the one working in the Minister's office. I guess this means you'll be working the weekend again."

Percy paused just before agreeing to this. Running around behind a frantic Fudge was hardly the way he wanted to spend his weekend, and now, he was under no real obligation to do so.

"No," said Percy, finding it incredibly enjoyable to be able to say the words. "Working weekends isn't mentioned in my contract, and I already put in a few hours of overtime this week. Fudge should be able handle this on his own."

Marco gawked at Percy. "What has come over you, little cousin? First you spend a Friday night getting drunk out of your mind, and then you turn down a chance to go to work? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were becoming me!"

"I've resigned my position with Fudge." Percy couldn't see any benefit in keeping that from Marco. "He decided that a year's hard work didn't guarantee my loyalty to him in the face of a new opponent in the election this year."

Now Marco definitely looked shocked. "What would ever give him that idea? Unless, of course, there actually is someone more competent running for the position, and that wouldn't be too hard."

"Well, my father has been nominated to the Wizengamot - by Dumbledore himself." Marco would understand the implications of that as well as he had.

Marco whistled, running a hand through his hair. "That well, that makes sense, actually."

Percy looked at Marco unbelievingly.

"Uncle Arthur had some very..." Marco paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word. "Interesting guests at Christmas."

"What do you mean, interesting guests? You never mentioned this before," Percy said with a frown.

"You wouldn't let me tell you anything once he passed the critical stage."

Percy was silent for a moment. The owl from Marco telling him his father had been rushed into St. Mungo's half dead had actually arrived just before the one from his mother. For a few hours, he'd tasted a fear colder than anything he remembered feeling in his entire life. His father was dying, but Percy couldn't go see him. Not then, not when his father had got to that place by doing the very thing Percy had pleaded with him not to do. Love had clashed with pride that night, and Percy was left in fear. If he'd gone back then, he wouldn't have been able to leave again. He would have undone everything he'd set out to prove to himself and his family six months earlier. How much courage would it have taken to go back, to face the questions and accusations? How much courage did it take to remain, haunted by the what could have been?

Percy was still sitting wide awake, numb, with both letters in his hands when Marco came home the next morning. He'd then made Marco reassure him that his father was going to live. When he was certain of that, he'd been able to sleep. Only once sleep returned, the nightmares did as well. The nightmares that had haunted him since he was a child. Darkness. Pain. Father! Those were the only thoughts he was ever able to remember in the morning. After three torment filled nights, the package from his mother had arrived. Percy didn't need to open it to know what it held. Love, in the form of a scratchy hand-knitted sweater had been delivered to the prodigal son. He couldn't open it. The decision made months before, tested only days earlier, now had to be held onto. Percy had sent it back before its power crushed his resolve. He had made his choice.

Percy looked away from Marco, and got up from the table. While he could feel the potion beginning to work, there were still aftereffects that needed to be taken care of. Besides that, Percy couldn't handle his cousin when Marco was so perky and he was on the verge of losing his emotional control again. Making an enemy out of his roommate was not something he wanted to add to his list of disasters within the last twenty four hours. "Father has always had interesting friends," Percy said slowly. "That doesn't mean those friends should promote him to a position of power. Fudge is scared, and if he's scared, I don't want to end up trapped by his fear."

Marco looked hard at Percy. "Whatever you say, cousin."

Despite taking the weekend off, Monday morning came all too quickly for Percy. He knew that Fudge probably had a three foot long list of duties for him, aggravated by his not coming to work over the weekend, so Percy headed straight for that office when he arrived. He was not looking forward to this, since he already had a busy week planned.

"I have an assignment for you this morning, Percy," were indeed the first words Fudge said after Percy walked into his office.

"But sir, I have that report to finish so it will be ready for the Wizengamot Council," Percy said, already knowing that this had probably slipped Fudge's mind. The man could only think of what was necessary in the here and now. Friday was the first of the summer sittings of the Grand Wizengamot Council.

"Oh, don't worry too much about that. I'm sure you'll get it done."

"But sir -" When, exactly?

"I am still your boss, Percy, and if I have something I want you to do, it is your duty to do it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir. I understand." You'll look like a fool when you don't have all the facts at Council but that's not my responsibility. I just hope you actually have something for me that needs to be done. There was already so much on the agenda already in preparation for friday, because everybody knew a call for a new Minister for Magic was going to occur this year.. "What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to answer some questions a reporter from the Quibbler has about the ministry. Possibly give a tour to show we aren't breeding basilisks behind closed doors."

"You can't be serious?" The words slipped out of Percy's mouth, even though he knew that Fudge was indeed serious.

"Why wouldn't I be? I don't have the time, and you've never hesitated to represent me to the press before."

"Yes, but the Quibbler? Don't you have some intern in Public Relations who could handle this?"

"Public Relations is busy all day with a press conference on the weekend's events."

"Then why can't the Quibbler reporter go to the press conference?"

Fudge paused for a moment, a pleased expression evident on his face. This proving to Percy Fudge was enjoying this torture. "Because she told my secretary that if I was unavailable, she'd be happy to talk to you."

Percy knew it would hardly help the matter to point out he wasn't exactly available either. He'd just have to make sure it didn't take all morning. "When did you want me to meet with this reporter?" Percy asked. He wondered if he'd have enough time to outline the next section of his report.

"She's waiting for you in your office. She's spent the last few days poking around the Ministry, and when she showed up again this morning, we realized we'd have to deal with her officially."

Waiting for him. It seemed there would be no putting it off until later. He should have known Fudge would find some way to get back at Percy for not coming into the office over the weekend.

True to Fudge's word, when Percy entered his office, waiting there was a lost waif. At least that was his first impression. Crooked, dingy blond braids hung down from either side of her face, which turned towards the door as it opened. At that moment, Percy again found himself looking into two of the biggest silver blue eyes he'd ever seen.

"You!" Percy spluttered in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning, Percy," the child - she couldn't be more than a child - chimed merrily. "Were you not expecting me?"

"I-" Percy tried to find his voice again. He could not believe this was happening. It was as if he hadn't quite woken up this morning, and was trapped in a strange and bizarre dream. "Are you with the Quibbler?"

"Yes, Luna Lovegood, special investigative reporter." She pulled a scraggly old quill out from one of her braids and sat with it poised over the parchment on her lap. "Thank you for agreeing to do this interview."

Percy bit his tongue before telling her that he didn't have much of a choice. Lovegood. The pieces were beginning to come together. Edmund Lovegood was the eccentric editor and owner of the Quibbler. "What is it I can do for you today, Miss Lovegood?" Percy's tone was acquiescent. The sooner he could get this farce of an interview over with, the sooner he could get back to his real work.

"I was wondering if, in light of recent events, the Ministry would like to come out in the open about some of the hidden defenses they've been planning?" She looked up expectantly at Percy, as if this was a perfectly sane question to begin an interview.

"What on earth are you talking about child?" Percy asked, mentally cursing Fudge to the deepest vault in Gringott's. "That sort of thing is classified information."

"So you do have something planned, though? Can I put you on record as saying that?"

"What?" Percy was realizing how the Quibbler was able to print the rubbish that it did. "No, of course not!"

"You would rather go on record as saying the Ministry has no plans whatsoever to deal with You-Know-Who then?"

"Yes - I mean no." Percy paused for a moment to think through his response, wishing he'd thought to swing by Public Relations and pick up a copy of the latest press release. "The Ministry is putting all of its resources towards dealing with this problem."

"Does that include the army of heliopaths as well?" Luna asked after scribbling his previous answer down.

"Army of heliopaths? They don't even exist." Percy's tone was full of disdain.

Luna looked surprised to hear this. "You mean they haven't told you?" she made another short notation on her pad. "I thought you were quite close to the Minister."

"No, I don't know about this imaginary army of the Minister's, and before you ask, I don't know anything about the legion of Oliphaunts either."

Her eyes did what Percy would have imagined to be impossible, and grew even wider. "You have a legion of Oliphaunts?" Luna asked full of what appeared to be serious reverence and awe. "Where are they being kept? I mean, that would be hard to hide, wouldn't it?"

Percy decided he had humoured her long enough. Even if she was related to Lovegood, he didn't have to put up with this sort of inane babbling. "Look, Miss Lovegood, you've satisfied your curiosity about holding an interview. Was your mother ill, and your father unable to find a baby-sitter so that he had to take you to work with him these past few days?"

"My mother is dead and my father is in Sweden." Luna's voice had grown softer and more vague. While Percy regretted the comment about her mother, he did still have to ask

"Then why aren't you in Sweden with your father?"

"Because his new girlfriend is, Rita Skeeter."

That's it. This is a dream. Percy couldn't think of anything to say to that. He'd have to ask Marco if odd dreams were an side effect of that potion, because this was beyond the pale of his imagination. Soon I will wake up to discover that the most meddling reporter in the history of media has not teamed up with the most ludicrous editor.

"It was supposed to be a family vacation," Luna continued without any prompting from Percy. He certainly didn't want to hear anymore of the nightmare. "Then he invited that... beetle along." Luna's eyes had glassed over, and Percy got the impression she had completely forgotten he was in the room. "The Crumple-Horned Snorkacks were always mum's favorite. You'd think he would at least remember that, and wait for the next trip."

"Why are you not in Sweden with your father?" And does he even know what you're doing here? Percy's repeated question seemed to break Luna out of her reverie. Her eyes clouded over briefly with anger.

"I do believe I am the one asking the questions in this interview." Luna looked back down at her pad before speaking again. Percy doubted she'd even heard him when he tried to stop the interview. "What are your thoughts on the recent attack in the Department of Mysteries."

Now she wanted to talk about that? Well, at least he had an answer to give there. "The Ministry has already released a statement on that matter. If your paper missed it, I'm sure Public Relations could give you a copy. Actually, there's a press conference going on there later today that you may be interested in." Percy got up and rummaged through a cabinet, pulling out a blank press pass.

"You are not the Ministry. I asked you what your thoughts on the matter are."

Percy wrote Luna Lovegood, Quibbler on the pass. With any luck, Fudge would never know he had dodged the interview like this, and he would have the entire morning in peace to do his work before Fudge barged in with another interruption. "I am a part of the Ministry. My views reflect its views."

Luna looked at Percy until he started to fidget from the gaze of her eyes, which he still hadn't quite got used to. "Oh, I see," she said finally.

Percy fought back the desire to defend himself. It was standard Ministry policy to defer to official statements on matters such as these. Besides that, his own viewpoint was similar to the Ministry's on this issue, for the most part at least.

"I have one more question, if you don't mind?" Luna said haughtily. Percy wondered how it was that after he'd been polite enough to go along with this whole episode, she would feel the right to be offended because he wouldn't come up with the scoop of the century for her. Regardless, he waved his hand for her to go on. One more question, and he could attempt to forget this whole thing had happened.

"How do you feel about the fact that the Ministry has released the man who ordered that Ron and Ginny be killed?"

Percy's quill stopped mid-signature, suspended above the press pass. Slowly letting out a deep breath, he let his quill rest on the page, although he'd forgotten about finishing the signature. A second passed before he was able to find his voice. "I haven't heard all the details of the matter," he said carefully, "but it is my understanding that Mr. Malfoy was cleared of all charges after he was given the chance to share a full testimony of the evening's events. He is a respectable gentleman, not a murderer. What grounds do you have to accuse him of that?"

Luna stood, her face was a picture of disbelief and... was that pity? Percy frowned at that. He couldn't stand being pitied. When she began to speak, however, Percy realized it wasn't pity, but disgust.

"On the grounds that I heard him say it." Luna's eyes had stormed over now, and Percy discovered that they were almost frightening like that. Her words had invoked the memory of a passing comment of hers the week before about his siblings. Apparently he'd been right on his first assumption in assuming that she was one of Dumbledore's. Her further accusation of Malfoy didn't phase him much. Malfoy was cleared of all charges on the basis of sound testimony and good character, and if this girl was there, that included any charges she had in mind.

"I can see I'm clearly wasting my time here. Ginny did mention something, but I had hoped..." she trailed off, but then quickly refocused, and held a hand out to Percy. "I may as well go to this press conference."

Percy finished signing the pass, and handed it to her. "Good day then, Miss Lovegood," Percy said, courteously now that it was obvious she was on her way out. Luna accepted the pass from Percy, and looked up at him as though she was about to say something. After a very uncomfortable moment, however, she just shook her head and walked out the door. Percy sat for a good fifteen minutes after the door shut, trying to decide if all of that had really happened or not. He still wasn't convinced he hadn't just dreamed up the whole event. Her last question did make him very aware of the draft of a response to Lucius Malfoy in his bag. Percy just couldn't believe that Bones would be incompetent enough to let the man go free if he wasn't innocent. In the end he just made himself a cup of coffee, and buried himself in his work as usual.

Percy didn't dig himself out of that pile of work until the week was almost over. Fudge seemed to have decided that every project he'd ever hoped Percy would do needed to be completed in the next two weeks. Percy began hoping that Fudge would find his replacement, in whatever form that was going to take, sooner rather than later. Despite this, Percy managed to exchange a few owls to set up a meeting with Lucius Malfoy. Thursday evening, the eve of the Wizengamot Council sitting, Percy finally managed to get out of work only an hour overtime. He Apparated directly to The Leaky Cauldron, where Lucius had asked to meet him.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Weasley," Lucius Malfoy said after they'd taken a seat at one of the tables in a corner of the bar. "I wish I'd had somewhere else to meet with you, but I'm having repairs done on my townhouse, and this really was the most convenient place to stay while they're being done."

"Thank you for the invitation, sir," Percy said truthfully. He had wondered why Malfoy would pick such a public venue, but he supposed the sometimes eccentric wizard has his reasons. "I must admit, I was a little surprised that you heard I was looking for a new position so quickly."

Lucius smiled, settling back in his chair. "I have many contacts, Mr. Weasley, and I've had my eye on you for awhile now."

"Have you really?" Percy attempted to hold back the pride that remark sent surging up inside of him, but his voice was slightly smug.

"Yes. I made a note to watch your career after Crouch spoke highly of you once."

The conversation paused for a moment as Tom came by to take their orders. Percy couldn't hold back the small smile that came to his face when Lucius mentioned praise from Barty Crouch. Fudge might pretend to have been a friend of Mr. Crouch's, but Lucius Malfoy, from what Percy had seen, really had been.

"So tell me, Mr. Weasley, what would make an up and coming wizard such as yourself leave a good position under Fudge?" Malfoy asked after Tom had left.

Percy didn't hesitate before speaking. He'd assumed a question of this nature would come up, and had his answer planned. "The Minister revealed a few structure changes he was going to implement in preparation for the upcoming election. It became clear to me that his government might not be where I want to be at the end of the year."

Lucius chuckled lightly. "I understand completely Percy-may I call you Percy?" Percy nodded and he continued. "I can see why Crouch appreciated you so much. You obviously have a good eye for what's going on in the world of politics. So would you agree that what is needed right now is a new government?"

"Fudge kept the housewitches and the flobberworm farmers happy. We're entering a war now. Fudge has always shown his weakness when faced with a problem he can't just delegate away, and that weakness could be disastrous in the position he's in." Unconsciously, Percy was quoting Barty Crouch word for word, and Lucius smiled in recognition of this.

"Yes, interesting you should bring that up, as it relates to an explanation I feel I owe you."

"An explanation, sir?" Percy asked. There were a million explanations that Lucius Malfoy's very existence, never mind his newly confirmed innocence demanded. The mysterious wizard was not normally very open in giving them, however. It certainly piqued Percy's curiosity to hear he would be privileged to hear one.

"Please Percy, call me Lucius. We're both adults. Yes, an explanation. Now, I know you've heard about the incident in the Department of Mysteries a few weeks back."

"Dreadful turn of events. It's such a shame to think that You-Know-Who could really be back."

"Yes, it was, but did you know that there were hints of it before that night?" Lucius asked in a hushed tone, causing Percy to sit up straight in amazement.

"No! Certainly Fudge wasn't aware of it." Percy knew - it had come up more than once during the final discussion he'd had with his father - that Dumbledore had believed since Mr. Crouch's death that this would happen. To hear that Lucius Malfoy had believed similar stories, although no doubt from a different source, was very surprising to Percy.

"Well, he'd been told, but he brushed it off. Fudge had a fine case of denial, and it just about cost the wizarding world everything. Luckily, there was a small group of us who were following the rumours closely. We went to the Department that night on the word of a source who told us You-Know-Who was going to be meeting with Harry Potter to negotiate."

Percy gasped. Harry Potter and You-Know-Who? All the pieces seemed to be fitting together. He knew that boy was nothing but trouble, and he'd always seemed to have a strange fascination with the dark arts.

"Sure enough, Harry Potter and a few of his friends, including two of your younger siblings, I believe, arrived at the Department of Mysteries, although how they got there from Hogwarts I can't imagine. Rumour has it they forced the centaurs to help them get out, which would take more dark magic than was under the impression they taught at Hogwarts. The situation was under control until that vigilante troop of Dumbledore's showed up. In all the confusion, I'm afraid the disguises myself and some friends had taken caused us to be mistaken for followers of You-Know-Who. Dumbledore covered for St. Potter as he always does, and paraded him as a hero, but all they really did was bungle up a mission that had taken months of planning."

Percy could hear the anger and bitterness in Lucius's voice, and he really couldn't blame the man. He'd been out doing a job Fudge should have been doing himself, and got thrown into Azkaban for it.

"Thank goodness they finally listened to reason, although I'm still trying to get them to free a few of the men who came along with me that night. Which brings me to why I asked you here today. Up until this time, I've never felt the need to actively involve myself in the the world of politics."

Percy drew in a breath, letting that sink in as Lucius paused. Up until now...Is he saying what I think he's saying?

"I have always counted on the fact that there were others who had the situation under control, and I didn't have to be onstage to play my role. Perhaps if Crouch was still around, I'd feel safer. However, with war at hand and an impending government change, I can't sit back and let the battle be fought by Fudge and whatever fool Dumbledore decides to back."

Percy smirked. His father could indeed be considered a fool for what he was doing. Even if he had a large group of friends, he knew nothing about running a government, let alone a country at war. "So are you telling me," Percy said, wanting the gratification of being the one to actually say it, "that you plan on running for Minister?"

Lucius grinned, and Percy knew he'd read him right. "Yes. No sense in complaining about what you're not willing to do yourself. What do you think of the idea, Percy?" Lucius asked, leaning in slightly as if telling a secret. "I haven't told that many people about my plan yet."

Percy's pride swelled within him. He now knew of three people running for the position of Minister. One was fairly obvious, another quite ludicrous, and the final one...intriguing. He wondered how many others out there were privy to all three of those pieces of information.

"I think it's a fine idea, sir," Percy's voice had undertones of excitement as he spoke. "The Ministry is lacking someone who will stand firmly against You-Know-Who and not be afraid to take action. Law Enforcement has been lacking proper control ever since Crouch left that department, as you've experienced first hand. I'm sure your government will correct that."

"That, of course, is one of my first priorities. Bones is fair, but war, unfortunately, is not." Percy nodded. "My next question then, is will you help me?"

"Pardon me?" Percy could barely believe his luck. Unless there was another candidate he didn't know about, which seemed unlikely, he was reasonably sure he was sitting with the next Minister for Magic, and he was asking Percy for help.

"I need a staff for the next six months...and hopefully beyond that. Would you be interested in being a part of my team?"

"I'd be honoured, sir, absolutely honoured," Percy said truthfully. Even in the unlikely outcome that he didn't become Minister, a position working with Malfoy would leave him many options.

Lucius looked very pleased with Percy's answer. "I'm glad to hear that. I know you've already brought honour to your family."

That startled Percy. He looked quickly at Lucius to see if the older man was speaking in jest.

"Yes, you have. Your family is much older than those who currently claim its name. It's been far too long since a Weasley did something worthwhile with their life. I'm sure its no secret to you that your father and I have never been on the best of terms, but you've proved yourself to be more than him."

Percy was torn between beaming with pride and wanting to hide in discomfiture. The irony of Lucius Malfoy, the man who'd striven so hard to put down the Weasley family, declaring him an honour to his blood was not lost on Percy. "Sir, there's something I should probably tell you," he began hesitantly. Percy didn't think Lucius would take react to the news of his father running for the Minister position the way Fudge had, and after all it would come out in Council the next day. There was still the chance that he was about to forfeit the opportunity sitting in front of him.

"I already told you that I have many contacts," Lucius said with a smile, stopping Percy from saying anything further. "If I thought you'd side with your father, I wouldn't have invited you here today."

As if their conversation had been an accio spell, Percy watched over Lucius shoulders as his twin brothers walked into the pub. They were wearing lurid green jackets unlike anything Percy had ever seen them in, and he was surprised to notice they actually looked more like grown wizards than schoolboys.

"The usual for me, Tom," Percy heard Fred say to the barman. The old wizard smiled back, and said something Percy couldn't make out, motioning towards the corner of the room where he was sitting. Percy quickly looked away, but not before seeing the look of horror in his brothers' eyes.

"There are some things that go beyond blood." Percy said, determined not to look back at his brothers. He could hear a scuffle by the bar, though, and from what he could make out George was holding Fred back.

"I don't know what you mean, Tom," Percy heard George say in what he recognized as a purposely carrying voice. "I don't see any of my brothers in here today, and Tom?" George's voice went down to a more normal level. "Better make it a double."

Percy knew Lucius hadn't seen his brothers walk in, but he wondered if he would have recognized their voices. "You have made your choice, then, Percy," Lucius said, and Percy couldn't help but think somehow he knew what had just happened. "Fudge was a fool if he thought you would waiver. You are a Gryffindor, after all. Now, should we discuss the terms of our agreement? I hope you realize I am willing to be very generous."

Percy could only nod. For the rest of the conversation, he was only half focused on Lucius, half watching his brothers whose backs were now firmly towards him laugh and joke with the many witches and wizards who stopped by the pub after work. He was so caught up, he was only dimly aware that he was setting himself up with a salary that almost doubled what he was making with Fudge. As the twins were leaving, he found himself catching George's eye for a moment. It was Percy who broke the stare first.

I have made my choice. I can't turn back now.