Matryoshka Vignettes
Sing A Song of Sixpence, A Pocket Full of Weasleys (1/4)
By Jeconais
Percy Weasley - Fri, August 14th 1998, 5:28pm
In conclusion, given her sovereign power over the island, and the considered international reaction, attempting to forcibly persuade Miss Greengrass to return to the U.K. would not be the recommended course of action at this time.
Percy sat back and re-read his work slowly. He shook his head slowly in admiration. It was opaque, overly verbose, and the conclusion was a complete fabrication.
All in all, it was perfect.
He was positive that none of the Wizengamot would read any of it, except the conclusion, and that not one of them would think to do any fact checking. After all, that was his job.
French law quite clearly prohibited anyone from owning an entire island. France always retained ownership of a sliver of land which was defined by the high tide. And while Daphne and Harry might have autonomy when it came to economics and social laws, at all other times, they had to follow French laws.
He signed the report cheerfully, and put it into his outbox. Another task completed successfully.
His life was a lot more interesting these days, and he had the added bonus of being able to look in the mirror every morning and see a real Weasley.
For the first time, he had actually managed to make the correct decision, and pledged his loyalty to people who actually deserved it.
He’d been lost after Harry’s funeral. Hearing just how badly he had misjudged the man, and just how manipulated Harry had been, had caused him to enter a rather sharp spiral downward.
So much so that he had even taken up drinking.
He’d betrayed his family, his friends, and even the saviour of the Wizarding World, and he took scant comfort in the fact that he wasn’t alone in having done so.
But then Hedwig had appeared to offer him a second chance at life.
The message was simple.
We need to talk.
D.
And he’d grabbed the Portkey without hesitation.
Of course, as soon as he had arrived he’d regretted not stopping for a shower and a shave first.
He was on a beautiful beach, and as there was only one path, he had followed it nervously.
He was met by a house-elf, who silently guided him to a bathroom, where fresh robes had been laid out. The bathroom was luxurious, and he had made quick use of the facilities, and feeling much more like himself once he was clean.
He dressed in the light summer robe, and opened the door. The elf was waiting for him, and led him into the largest living room he had ever seen.
Miss Greengrass was seated in one corner.
"Please, take a seat," she said, indicating the couch near her.
He found himself wanting to check that his hair was perfect, that his teeth were clean, that he didn’t look like, well, someone who had been drinking his way into an early grave.
He sat, nervously, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since he had left Hogwarts.
She studied him as he sat, and he wanted to look away from her piercing eyes.
"May I offer my condolences," he said, as she didn’t look away.
"Oh?" she asked curiously. "I was under the impression that you were on the Ministry’s side in all of this."
He winced. "I’m afraid that I have had my eyes opened rather forcibly," he confessed. "And I believe that I have made a few rather large mistakes. My support of Cornelius and Rufus was a most egregious error."
"And is this why you are attempting to kill yourself with drink?" Her tone was even and curious, as if she had just mentioned the time.
He straightened his shoulders, and started to blurt a denial, when he collapsed suddenly. "Yes," he whispered. "I’ve got nothing left. I’ve lost my family, my friends, my love, in support of a career based on lies and deceit."
And then he had almost had a heart attack.
"Sometimes, Percy," Harry said, walking into the room, "you have to hit rock bottom before you can start to find yourself again."
Percy gaped at him, not even noticing as Daphne reached out and lifted his jaw shut.
"You’re dead," he whispered.
"We Polyjuiced a Death Eater," Harry explained. "We wanted a clean break from the Wizarding world."
Percy nodded slowly, and then launched himself forward, hugging Harry. "I’m so pleased you’re alive," he half shouted.
Harry hugged him back for a second. "We’ve brought you here to offer you a second chance, Percy."
Percy released the younger man and sat down. He held up his hand, saying, "Give me a second, please."
As they went silent, he took a deep breath and calmed down. So, Harry Potter was alive and well, and living with Daphne. If they were going to stay out of the Wizarding world, they would have not invited him to see them, as the more people who knew a secret, the less of a secret it actually was.
Now, he knew that Snape had disappeared, that Lucius had been removed, and that Draco was being tortured in a very effective manner. So, they were still interfering with the Wizarding World, which would mean that they had a plan for it.
It felt good to actually use his brain for a change — despite the split infinitive — rather than try and kill it.
"I’d be delighted to help," he said sincerely.
Harry and Daphne looked at each other. "We appear to have missed a few steps in your logic," Daphne said dryly.
"Oh, sorry," Percy replied. "It’s just that you obviously have a plan for the Wizarding world, and you need someone in the Ministry to help. You said you were offering me a second chance, which would be the chance to work with you, and not against you, correct?"
"Another Gryffindor with brains?" Daphne asked Harry.
Harry grinned at her. "Just because as a class we’re a little impetuous…"
"And foolhardy, overconfident and overbearing," Daphne added.
"Thank you, dear, notwithstanding all that, it doesn’t mean we’re stupid," Harry finished.
"So what do you want me to do?"
"At the moment," Harry replied, "not much at all. We just need you to keep an eye on things, and use your own judgement about what to do if anything comes up.
"Fred and George know that I am alive, and we’ll be telling Bill and Charlie shortly."
"You do know," Percy said, "that the more people who know a secret, the more likely it is to come out?"
"I do," Harry nodded. "But we trust the people involved implicitly."
Percy felt his back straighten. "I won’t let you down," he had promised.
And in the last few months, he certainly hadn’t. He’d been proud to return to work, and had quickly regained his position as Rufus’ secretary.
And when Rufus had told him yesterday about arresting Daphne and asking for international help, he’d been able to act, and act fast.
Rufus hadn’t specified the contents of his letter requesting aid to the other countries, and it was just possible that he might have accidentally placed a few more details in it than Rufus might have liked, emphasising Daphne’s actions in great detail, leading to the obvious conclusion of self-defence for a hero.
And then he had happened to have lunch with Ernie, who he knew to be friends with Luna, and just might have passed on a few too many details.
And then this morning, when the Aurors had tracked down Harry and Daphne, it hadn’t been hard to fabricate their autonomy.
He felt like whistling to himself as he wrote a quick note to them, explaining what was going on.
If you wanted something done, you could pick anyone off the street, but if you wanted something done properly, with style and panache, then you really had to choose a Weasley.
It was just a pity that Ron and Ginny were still out in the cold. He understood why, that Harry wasn’t sure about their loyalties at the moment, and had agreed. Still, rumour had it that Ginny had made the first move, and after all, if he of all people could be forgiven, so, surely, could they.