Chapter Text
Percy quivered as he stood in front of Cornelius Fudge’s office door. Why did the Minister of Magic want to see him? Surely if he were to be fired, it would have been much sooner, right? Hand shaking, he lightly rapped on the door.
“Enter.”
Percy nervously shoved his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and walked in. Cornelius Fudge looked up from his work and smiled at him. “Ah, Mr. Weasley. Please sit.”
Not daring to offend the Minister, Percy hurried into the chair across from Fudge’s desk. With a quick glance about, he noticed the Minister’s famous green bowler hat on a coat stand and a filing cabinet overflowing with paperwork. He was itching to go over and organize it – he knew he could make it so much easier for Fudge if he could have just fifteen minutes. An organized office is a functioning one. But of course he wasn’t calling the Minister of Magic dysfunctional, obviously someone in such a high office knew what he was doing.
“Percy, may I call you Percy?” (Percy nodded fervently.) “I’m a very busy man, so I’m going to make this quick.”
Please don’t be about Mr. Crouch. Please don’t be about Mr. Crouch. Percy’s former boss had been attacked by Death Eaters several months ago and stopped coming into the office. Percy, feeling Mr. Crouch deserved some rest, continued to work under the guidance of letters Mr. Crouch sent him. Of course, after it was discovered he had been attacked, everyone blamed Percy for not noticing sooner. How could he know?! The letters he received were in his boss’s handwriting and used his vernacular and everything! It was a simple mistake people but seemed set on pointing the finger at Percy.
“You have done exceptional work under your former employer, the late Mr. Bartemius Crouch, and I wanted to personally acknowledge your outstanding performance.”
Percy beamed at the compliment. “Thank you, Minister.” He had worked his tail off but the work was important. It certainly was rewarding to hear someone finally appreciate all he did for the Ministry.
“I would also like to offer you a position as my Junior Assistant.”
This was almost too much. Percy didn’t move for a moment as he realized what this meant. He had only been out of Hogwarts for a year, to be offered a promotion like this was huge! This was also a giant step financially; he’d be able to make more for his family, his parents would be so proud of him, and even Fred and George would have to admit working diligently had its rewards. “I’m – honored, sir. Yes, it would be no greater service than to be your Junior Assistant. Goodness, my family will love to hear this.”
Fudge’s smile turned into a semi-hostile scowl. “That’s the other thing I need to talk to you about. You see, Percy, your family has recently become a problem. They’ve been supporting lies about a wizard –”
“Do you mean He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s return, sir?”
This was quite obviously the wrong thing to say, because Fudge’s face turned a brilliant shade of purple. “Lies! Lies Albus Dumbledore cooked up to get himself my job! And your family – if they’re caught publically saying Harry Potter is any more than a troubled boy making up stories for Dumbledore they’re going to be punished by the Ministry!”
Percy shivered involuntarily as he imagined the worst punishment Fudge could bestow: Azkaban. “I’m sorry, Minister, I’m sure they mean –”
“You’re not telling me you believe this cock-and-bull story?”
The Minister’s deadly tone forced Percy to shake his head. “Because if you did, then you aren’t the kind of employee I’m looking for. Now,” Fudge lowered his voice and made it a smidgen gentler. “If you believe You-Know-Who can’t possibly have come back and don’t buy into these lies, then you will be very successful here.”
So that was it then? Either Percy could get the job of his dreams or he could support his family?
Let’s examine the facts here. Fact: Harry Potter came out from the third task claiming he witnessed You-Know-Who return. Fact: the year before he claimed Sirius Black was innocent. Surely that was proof Harry Potter wasn’t the most reliable source of information. (The memory of Harry rescuing Percy’s younger brother Ron from the bottom of the Black Lake was shoved to the back of his mind.) Fact: his parents’ lifestyle was full of poverty and hardship. If Percy could secure this job he would never require his children to buy secondhand robes or books.
Besides, if You-Know-Who could have come back, the Minister wouldn’t be denying it; surely Fudge had made sure He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named absolutely wasn’t at large before saying Albus Dumbledore was a liar.
Logically, the decision was obvious.
“I’ll take the position, sir.”
Something died inside of Percy, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy planning how to convince his parents to see reason, and what he would do if they refused. Although his family was alright, he wouldn’t brave Azkaban for them. Only a fool would do that.