Head Prat

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Gender: Male
Age: 119
Sign: Capricorn
Country: United Kingdom

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February 12, 2020

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11/19/2020 02:07 PM 

The Coup

1 August, 1997

The tip of the quill scratched over the parchment, a calming noise to a frazzled mind, unease pitted deep in Percy’s stomach. In silent precision, he copied the document word for word. His last meeting with Remus warped his mind, pulled and tugged guilt and shame into place, worked him into a frenzy to what he was doing. His love for the Ministry felt tainted, the dutiful respect turned admiration for their Minister tarnished by his many levels of treachery. Again, he felt like a pawn in everyone else's game, emotions twisted until Percy felt nothing. He wanted to help the order, protect his family, but it was a deep betrayal to Scrim, who entrusted Percy enough to keep him on.

With a flourish of his quill, Percy signed off the document before he ran one last check for dark magic and rose to his feet, the weight of his own letter of resignation heavy on his chest. He was tired of the lies and games everyone used him for. Life was passing him by, a life he could have if he left everything behind. The Ministry was destroying him, a haunted mind with a body that showed it. His own family wanted nothing to do with him, no care or concern that he too was in danger. He could leave it all behind, England and all. Go to a place where no one knew his name, where he wasn’t viewed as a traitor and despised by everyone who came into contact with him. A new beginning to a life that felt as if it were coming to its end. Felix had given him a way out, a chance to escape and live.

Percy’s gaze hovered just over the rims of his glasses to the office directly across from his, the door still wide open but the room was vacant. Scrim had been out the majority of the day, fire messages popping up every so often on Percy’s desk with minor and tedious jobs to handle while he dealt with other things. His own suspicion malted into a fear that he had been found out and that Scrim was just collecting enough evidence to what Percy had been doing to throw him in Azkaban. With a heavy sigh, Percy’s muscles tensed as he stood from the chair he had been confined to for most of the morning. With Scrim gone, he set to his next set of business, the thing that hurt worse than walking away from the place he loved.

In minutes he was on the third level, papers tucked neatly under his arm. The halls were packed, a loud chatter set against the migraine that was pulsing through his skull, everyone’s words blended together into one massive static noise. It wasn’t normally this busy in the early afternoon, even when lunch came he rarely experienced the rush he was fighting his way through. Messy red hair poked out from behind one of the cubical’s, Zoshia’s face beaming as she spotted him. Nothing needed to be said, the chipped blue mug offered out to him once he was close. 

“Thanks?” Percy muttered, his nose wrinkled slightly at the light brown liquid but it was still coffee in some form. He choked it back, face pulled in a tight grimace as he fought the shudder. 

“It’s that kind of day, is it?” Zoshia asked with a slight snicker.

He didn’t return her smile. A sudden swell of distress in his chest caught Percy off guard, a squeeze over his heart as he looked down at her. Everything fell into place as she stared up at him, Percy suddenly aware that the things he thought he wanted were pointless without her there alongside him. “I umh . . . what are you doing for lunch, I need to speak with you about something.”

“I’m free now.”

Percy stammered over his words, face flushed to the pressure he was now under. It was supposed to be easy, a quick goodbye to who he considered to be a close friend, a best friend. It hurt when he arrived to work, knowing it had to be done, but now it was devastating. He couldn’t imagine not seeing Zoshia every day, didn’t want to.

Zoshia didn’t look up from her papers, but she sat idle for a moment before speaking. “You’re leaving with Felix,” she stated knowingly, the smile on her face wavering slightly.

Blotchy red patches covered his complexion, and quickly he looked away. “I know it’s cowardly and pathetic.” His voice was low. Every cruel name his family had given him over the years resurfaced as Percy found some truth behind them. 

“It’s neither of those. You don’t want to be tortured, and honestly, who could blame you?” Zoshia sighed as Percy grimaced, his head tilting from side to side as he collected a list of those who would do more than just blame him. “Look, you’re not a martyr. Any sane person in your shoes would be weighing their options. Think of all the information you hold, all the destruction they would do if they pulled it from you? You’d be stupid to stay.”

The words, while they made sense, did little to ease the tides of shame and guilt that were lapping through his mind. He was running away, abandoning everything and everyone he loved just so he could live. A selfish, cowardly prat. Those would be the exact words his siblings would use for him, and Percy couldn’t blame them. They were all fighting in their own ways, taking a stand against the rise of evil. But they all had support, a network of people around them that would help them, even protect them if they needed it. Percy had nothing. He was on his own, backed into a corner, and facing was imminent death; nothing quick or simple of that he was certain. They had no concept of the danger he was in. Every bit of information he held from his time as Junior Assistant, and that was just scratching the surface. He gathered his own information, key things to give to Lupin, every last shred of information that would be the undoing of the Order once they knew how to lure Lupin out by using Percy as bait.

Zoshia seemed to sense his inner turmoil and paused in her packing. “If it’s any consolation, I’d prefer you to go. Mainly to keep Felix in check, but you’ve rather grown on me and I’d much prefer you stay alive.”

A different heat spread over his chest and up his neck, a small grin curving against his will as his heart spiraled. “You’ve got a soft spot for me?” It was meant as a tease, a joke to stop the stupid feeling he couldn’t place because he knew her words meant nothing more than not wanting to face another death. But he wanted it to be true, wanted to know that at least one person would miss him.

“Shut up.” The response was instant, a large cheeky smile plastered over her face.

Nerves fluttered in his stomach, a quickening beat of his heart that was in sync with the tip of the shoe he tapped against the floor. He couldn’t stabilize his thoughts, was unable to form sentences, and verbalize anything coherent as he turned the cup in his hands. Three quickdraws of air, Percy forced his mind to slow before he tried to speak again. “You - would you like to come with me?” 

He didn’t understand the flurry of nerves, the off hitches in his voice as he asked a basic question that had no hidden meaning. It was just as dangerous for her to stay as it was for him. It wasn’t strange to offer her a chance to come; to want her to come with him. With him and Felix, Percy reminded himself almost bitterly. The panic was instant, a long stream of silent curses to how stupid he must have sounded to her. Of course, she wouldn’t want to go with him, no one really enjoyed being around him. He was an annoyance. A pest.

“With me and Felix,” he corrected as quickly as he could, careful to keep his face down, afraid she could see the sinking of his own heart and the hurt that shouldn’t have been there. Felix was more of a friend to her than he was, he was her best friend while Percy was just tolerated. “You should come with us, I know Felix would be excited not to be stuck with me.”

Bag slung over her shoulder, Percy waited in bated breath as she fixed the messy ponytail. “I can’t leave my dad here, I’m all he has left.”

“Right, of course.” Percy swallowed the sudden hurt that rose in his throat, pushed it all out from his mind. The emotions were strange, left him in a perplexed state to everything he had been ignoring the past few months when it came to Zoshia. “If things get bad . . .” He began, unsure of what else to say to her. He didn’t want to imagine worse than what was already happening. It meant full war, that Scrim was gone, and if he fell Percy would be to blame, no matter how or when it would happen. He abandoned his Minister of Magic when it could have made a difference if he remained where he belonged, where he fought so hard to get to. The possibilities grew heavy, made his letter of resignation heavier in the inner pocket of his jacket. 

“I’ll find you if they do,” Zoshia said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, a shared sentiment to what it meant if things got worse. 

“Where are you headed, anyway? It’s not even lunch.” Percy quick to change the subject as they left the office together. 

“Head of Department told us to head home.” Her brows knitted a little, a playful nudge against Percy’s shoulder. “I thought that was why you came to see me. Scrim’s been sending people home all morning.”

“No.” His voice gave away the betrayal he felt, that Scrim left him in the dark to something so peculiar. Maybe he knew what Percy was planning to do, he was always two steps ahead, it felt. Or possibly he didn’t want to broach the subject of Bill’s wedding that was due to take place later in the afternoon, and in some strange act of kindness loaded Percy with busy work to keep his mind off it. Annoyance to the situation simmered under Percy’s smile as they stopped outside the floo network. dwindling lines as people made their way out from the Ministry with the same suspicions that Percy felt.

“Look,” Zoshia said quickly. “I’m rubbish with saying goodbyes so . . .” 

Her face closed in on him, Percy’s own reaction delayed as he strained to hear any rumors of what was happening. By the time he noticed his personal space was consumed by the scent of lilacs, it was too late. He froze as soft lips pressed against the side of his face, Percy’s ears the last thing on his face to go the trademark Weasley red shade. He didn’t know how to respond, mind pulling at straws to what he wanted and what her kissing his cheek meant. Was it just friendly? A goodbye because she believed she would never see him again? Percy stood flushed, eyes wide with alarm the more his mind raced.

“Just be careful, please.” It was the last thing she said, Zoshia giving a small wave as she backed up into the network and vanished suddenly.

 

It took him a moment to come back to his senses, the tasks at hand nearly forgotten in the immense confusion that poured through him, an additional need to find out why everyone was being sent home early. He wasn’t usually left out of the loop, cut off from anything that happened in the Ministry but now, watching the last few stragglers vanish into the network, Percy second-guessed the trust Scrim had in him; a bitter irony not lost on him as he made for the Minister of Magic’s office, chest slightly puffed up as he barged in without knocking.

The office was immaculate, a sight that took Percy back in surprise, more than actually finding the Ministry behind the desk. As of late, it had been a place of chaos, signs of growing war, and the amount of turmoil in the world around them. Shreds of parchment that had been pinned to the wall were gone, files that once laid open and ready for a moment's notice missing from the desk. The last time Percy had seen the office this clean was a few months after Scrim had taken office. 

“I have the last few sign-offs for you before lunch,” he said, hand stretched over the width of his glasses to push them back up his nose. Scrim, who usually gave him some annoyed noise of acknowledgment, sat behind the enormous desk in crisp silence. “I don’t mean to pry, but are you alright?”

Alarm prickled at his voice. Had he missed something? Was he so caught up in trying to find his own way out that he overlooked something and now it was surfacing? Sweat perspired over his temples, the weight of a stone over his chest. 

Scrim’s face pulled away from what barely held his focus, the man they once called The Lion, now tired and withered looked. “All is fine, Weasley.” He reached for the bundle of papers, beckoned for them a second time as Percy held them close to his chest, his letter of resignation on top.

He couldn’t do it, not now when he was clearly still needed. All the want and desire to begin anew, escape the hell death eaters brought to their world wasn’t enough to allow him to abandon everything he cherished. Percy Weasley was many things, but a coward wasn’t one. The fumble was awkward, Percy’s grip tights on his letter of resignation that warranted a suspicious glare. “Letter from a friend.”

The older wizard nodded, not truly seeming to care as he skimmed the files. “Really?” The response was dull and Percy expected the same uninterested eyes to fall on him as Scrim looked up, but there was a fire that had him shrinking in on himself. “You sure it isn’t copies of these?”

Percy’s face blanched. He had no control over his reaction, eyes wide and his mouth sat agap in shock. There wasn’t any way that he could have known. He had been cautious, overly cautious with time meticulously spent making sure he left no traces to what he was doing for the order. “S-Sorry?”

“Sit.” It wasn’t an option, Scrim’s head jerked in the chair directly across from the desk. 

Panic rose like bile up his throat, a sickly burn that Percy forced himself to swallow back. Excuses riddled his mind, blatant lies to cover his own tracks. It was pointless. Everyone always made up their minds about him and his motivations before he got to defend himself, formed their hatred around half-truths and Percy only hoped that Scrim didn’t believe he committed treason by giving information to the death eaters. “I - I can explain.”

There was subtle enjoyment in Scrim’s face at watching Percy squirm, the deep-set frown lifting a fraction. “Don’t. I just want you to sit and listen. I understand that in being my junior assistant you may have thought you had leverage others don’t, but any fire messages sent out from the Ministry are intercepted, and have been since Fudge.” The smirk grew in size as Percy’s horror set in, something he thought was clever, actually the worst thing he could have done. “You need to think outside your realm of simple. Transfigurations, which you were rather gifted at. Memory growth charms and potions, broaden your options, and be careful not to repeat them.”

Percy’s mind stuttered, tried to keep up with what he heard and what Percy was deciphering from them. He wasn’t in trouble, if anything it seemed like advice being given, ways to trick the system. Brows furrowed, he edged closer to the desk until he was perched awkwardly on the end of the chair. The comment was so out of character, so far from the person, Percy thought he knew, that he watched Scrim carefully; searching for a fault or something that would show it wasn’t in fact the Minister of Magic. But there was nothing to argue against the man before him and suspicion slipped under Percy’s skin.

“Sir?”

A tired half-grin rose at the corners of his lips as Scrim’s arms rested over the desk. “The Ministry will need people like you, Percy. People who believe there is still good to be found here, justice.”

The laugh was ladened with unease. Even if the comment gave him some sense of worth, Percy could sense the wrongness in the air. “Thank you, Sir. But you’ll be here when that time comes.”

The look was incredulous, a questioning stare shot in Percy’s direction. He wasted no time moving on to the next matter. “I don’t accept your resignation, either.” Knowing lingered behind the words, and Percy’s gaze dropped from Scrim’s instantly. He was always two steps ahead, knew things before Percy even discovered them himself. “I do, however, feel that you should take the rest of the day off. You’ve been through enough and the next part isn’t your fight. It’s your brother’s wedding, you should go.”

Percy looked up sheepishly, the gentle nudge everyone had been given him the past few days splintered. He was tired of explaining, living his life in a loop. “Right,” he mumbled, and Percy quietly got to his feet. He held no intentions of going to the wedding, had done well throughout the day to keep it out of his mind only to have it shoved into his face. Mixed regret consumed him as Percy walked out from the office, unsure of where to go now that he had been sent home for the day. He could leave with Felix, the option there before him whether Scrim accepted his resignation or not. He was lost, half of himself missing in the debate of what he needed to do; what was best for him. 

The next part isn’t your fight.

The words niggled at a mind that was overworked and exhausted. He knew Scrim was acting off, should have seen past the strange compliments given to him for what it was. Tactics. Even the reminder of Bill’s wedding was nothing more than a chess piece being pushed into play and panic spread through his chest, Percy’s lanky frame stumbling back for the office in a mad rush as he pieced it together, wand in hand. It wouldn’t have been the first time death eaters utilized the polyjuice potion. 

“Why are you still here?” 

There was a growing agitation, Scrim’s long desire to yell for him to f*** off clear on his face, and Percy faltered in momentary confusion. What if he was wrong? What if it really was just Scrim before him and not a clever ploy? If it was a death eater, they could have just killed him instead of trying to get him out from the Ministry. Percy’s head throbbed as he tried to piece together the puzzle, a grip in his lungs growing stronger with each question that sparked another set. All he knew, all Percy could sense was something was wrong. 

He never was able to voice the stream of thoughts, voice any concern as footsteps thundered through the halls. Percy saw it first. The look on Scrim’s face subtly changed from annoyance to his presence to immediate concern and his heart quickened. Then he heard it. The surrounding air had become quiet, like icy drips onto frozen skin. Even with most of the staff gone, the Ministry was never this silent, the hair on Percy’s arm standing on end.

 “Get to the apparition test center, you can get out from there.” 

Wand clutched, Scrim rose dutifully from behind his desk, that knowing look once again on his face, shoulders back and chin high as he left a stunned Percy behind. 

Ministry Falls Series; Part 2
Featuring π”–π”±π”žπ”―𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔒 (prompt 'I'd prefer you go') & war ΠΌιnιΡ•Ρ‚er.
Massive shoutout to Scrim for letting me pester him and use part of his own HC for Scrim during this time. 

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нerмιone

 

Jan 23rd 2021 - 7:42 PM

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Okay, so...first of all...how dare you!!!

And secondly, begining with this?

"... Go to a place where no one knew his name, where he wasn’t viewed as a traitor and despised by everyone who came into contact with him. A new beginning to a life that felt as if it were coming to its end. Felix had given him a way out, a chance to escape and live."


That was very rude of you, alright! My inner Hermione just wants to grab hold of Percy, tell him he's smart, and talented, and worthy, and...that she sees the good in him. But then Zoshia enters, and all is okay!! I absolutely love their relationship. Oh, so much! How you can see the beginnings of it blossom here. That banter they have back and forth. I almost want to push Percy into Zoshia here, but I know I can't haha. I know what's coming for them. 

Then! Then! That drabble with Scrim...ugh!! Always one step ahead, he is. Naturally so. But it was such a joy, reading Scrim's guidance to Percy here. Giving away all of those tactics. Providing Percy the encouragement he needed. Believing in him. 

...I'm not ready to acknowledge this death though. Nope. DAMN YOU!!!!! 

Pure masterpeices my friend. As your body of works always are. There's not enough words in written language to sing your praises.


Dragon Seeker

 

Nov 21st 2020 - 10:18 AM

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Live commentary
-sits down with food, drink and a blanket- You weren't joking, this is a BEAST
- A part of me wants to feel bad for Percy in that opening paragraph but it's hard because he actively went and made those decisions to feed information to the order. 
his own letter of resignation < HIS WHAT! He's resigning from junior assistant? Ok NOW I feel bad.
- Leaving England? Percy nooo -clings to leg- Fuck whoever this Felix is, I'm not letting him steal you!
- ZOSHIA! -throws confetti- -will forever do this every time she pops up-
- 'Percy suddenly aware that the things he thought he wanted were pointless without her there alongside him.' < awwwwwwwwww
- 'they all had support, a network of people around them that would help them, even protect them if they needed it. Percy had nothing. He was on his own, backed into a corner, and facing was imminent death' < well hell heartbreak, nice to see you on this fine Saturday!
- More like Percy has a soft spot for Zosh! Their interaction for this is fucking adorable!
- 'Felix was more of a friend to her than he was, he was her best friend while Percy was just tolerated.' < There's the Percy we all know and love. Staph hurting us!
Scrim’s been sending people home all morning' < :O 
- Bill's wedding happens on the same day as the take over at the Ministry, I don't know why but that just makes what we all know happens even worse
-grins like a fuckin idiot, hands to face and all- AWWWWWW all aboard the Pershia Ship!
- OH OH OH! He knows something is up!
- And he's second guessing resigning. And I'm confused on the inside because of this. I want him to resign because then he'll be safe/ish. But on the other side, everything he gave up for the Ministry. On top of his pure dedication to Scrim and wanting the war to end. It's hard to want one or the others.
“You sure it isn’t copies of these?” < :O :O Nice knowing you, Perce
- SCRIM GAVE HIM POINTERS! This has given Scrim so many brownie points because he knew, the MAN FUCKIN KNEW, what Perce was doing and instead of stopping him or firing him he let him continue on and at the end is giving him different ways to get messages out to the order.
- "But you’ll be here when that time comes."' < wishful thinking Percy or just blind idiocy? 
- YES SCRIM! Don't take that resignation.
- "You’ve been through enough and the next part isn’t your fight. It’s your brother’s wedding, you should go." < Ouch! My heart.
- bahaha we've all been there wanting to yell for Percy to fuck off
- OHH oh nooo. 
- Scrim's still pushing for Percy to get out as he's going to fight. 

Well damn. The two parts here had different tones and yeah it's long as fuck but it reads really quickly. Percy/Zoshia part was really just so cute and heartwarming at first until you start to think about what is happening next and then it becomes devastating. Percy, who is just coming around to the idea that maybe -maybe- she is more than a friend to him just in the moment he's getting ready to leave the country. And I have to wonder if that last interaction between them with Zosh kissing his cheek was an added push for him NOT to resign.
And Scrim! DUDE! We weren't supposed to like Scrim in the books, he was bad but he wasn't good either and this really gave him a different view and he is AMAZING. Scrim getting people out from the Ministry is an amazing touch because it shows that he was a good Minister and he did care about the people. I'm not sure the extent of the HC war minister has but I'm here for that, especially because I'm attached to Percy and to Zoshia and she is safely out and he tries to get Percy to leave.

I'm done rambling to your brilliance. This was a nice ease into the next part that I'm probably going to sit screaming at.  
 

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