Disclaimer - I do not claim to own any part of the Harry Potter world.
Percy Weasley was many things; ambitious, intelligent, stubborn, strict, unforgiving, a bit full of himself, perhaps. But no one would ever accuse Percy Weasley of not being thorough. He prided himself on that fact, having lived his life to this point making sure all his i’s were dotted, his t’s crossed and parchments perfectly sealed.
Even in the wizarding world, Percy knew who your children grew up to be depended more on genetic make-up than on any one parenting style, which was why he had always wondered how he ended up a Weasley. When he considered his siblings, Percy thought it obvious who their parents were. But, if asked, the only thing Percy would tell you he had left in common with the rest of his family was the telltale red hair. Fortunately for Percy, he didn’t realize he had more in common with his parents than just his hair follicles.
Percy stood in the doorway of his office. As Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, Percy was little more than a glorified secretary. He took notes, he compiled notes, he sent notes, he answered notes. He went through more parchment and quills in a month here than he ever had as a student. Sighing, he reminded himself he was doing an important job, had access to information the average wizard did not, and it could be worse. He could have his father’s job.
Percy cringed at the thought of his father. He passed him periodically in the hallways, had in fact shared a lift with him yesterday. And even Percy, despite his best efforts to ignore him, could tell the war was taking its toll on his father. Arthur Weasley's robes hung looser on his frame, the gray hair around the temples was more pronounced, and there were smudges of blue under his eyes. Without acknowledging his father, Percy had silently exited the lift along with a few memos, two of which followed him all the way to his desk, pecking at the back of his head like annoying little birds wanting attention.
And then there was his father’s voice. Every time he saw him, Percy could hear it, in the back of his head. “Wake up, Percy! Open your eyes!” “Fudge doesn’t know what’s going on. He refuses to see what’s going on!” “Percy, you can’t turn your back on your family. The ministry is moving too slowly. It’s missing things.” The voice was there, occasionally joined with the memory of his mother’s tears, nagging at him.
Shaking his head as if hoping the voice would simply fall out of one of his ears, Percy walked slowly around to the back of his desk. A stale burnt smell hung in the air and the explosive remains of several unopened howlers delivered during the night had left a thin layer of ashy dust over the top layer of his desk. Setting down his satchel, Percy began to clean it up.
“Weasley!” Lewis Fielding poked his head into Percy’s office.
“Fielding,” nodded Percy, looking up.
“Are you done with the inventory reconciliations yet? I’ve got Aurors jumping down my neck for them,” Lewis said, watching Percy dust.
Percy tried to keep his eyes from rolling. Lewis Fielding was Percy’s counterpart within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which pretty much meant he dealt with mind numbing paperwork all day too. Fielding also had the habit of dropping in the fact he worked with “the Aurors” any chance he got, as if the paperwork the Aurors generated was more important than anything generated by the Minister of Magic himself. Percy thought Fielding daft. Just exactly who did Fielding think sat behind the door Percy's back faced? To top it off, Percy had a hard time believing anyone trained in the art of catching dark wizards was anxiously awaiting something as dull as inventory reconciliations.
“No, Fielding,” Percy replied, trying hard to sound busily important. “I told you yesterday I would be doing them today. The Minister of Magic has kept me busy with other ministry business. I will have them to you by the end of the week.”
“Great!” Fielding exclaimed. “Well, I’m off to the Aurors’ daily briefing. I’ll stop by later, see if you need a hand.”
“You do that,” Percy muttered to Fielding’s back.
++++
Ginny pushed the door open to the Transfiguration classroom. Why Dumbledore had asked her to drop off this parcel for Professor McGonagall in the classroom and not left it in the staff room, she had no idea. She had been headed to drop off her book bag in Gryffindor Tower before she made her way to the Great Hall for dinner when she met the Headmaster. Dumbledore seemed to pull the bundle out of nowhere, holding it out for her, giving her no choice but to comply. She hurried to the front of the room and dropped the parcel on the table. Turning around, she jumped, her book bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."
"Hey, Gin," Harry said looking up. He sat at the front desk, closest to the wall, facing what looked like an explosion of parchment.
"Harry, why do I keep finding you surrounded by piles of parchment?" Ginny teased.
Harry grinned. "Can't get enough of the stuff?" he answered. "Professor McGonagall said I could use the classroom to catch up on some potions work before practice."
"Ah," Ginny answered. Her gaze traveled around the room. It was empty except for the two of them.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.
"Uh, I was dropping off something for Professor McGonagall on my way to grab a bite of dinner," Ginny said, suddenly feeling a little awkward.
She had wanted to get Harry alone all week and here they finally were, and what was she going to do about it? Get a grip, girl! She said to herself. You've been thinking of this all week. Okay, maybe a little longer, she admitted silently. Trying to convince herself that there was no time like the present, Ginny took a deep breath and stepped toward Harry's desk.
"So, Harry…almost done?" she asked innocently.
Harry looked up from his work, not realizing Ginny had moved from the front desk. He could count the freckles on her nose from here. Startled, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping on the floor as it slid back into the desk behind him. It suddenly dawned on him them they were alone.
Harry cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, I think I am," he said.
Straightening up, Ginny moved around the end of the desk so she was facing Harry. Tilting her head to the side, she studied him, a small smile playing around her lips.
"Harry, do you know that when Hogwarts was first started, prefects would take points from students for what was considered improper behavior?"
Flashbacks of their night on the quidditch pitch ran through his mind. Harry took a step backward, bumping into the desk behind him.
"Uh, no, I didn't know that," he replied, nervously. He had been daydreaming about getting Ginny alone all week. Now, here they were, and all rational thought had fled his mind. He watched Ginny trail her fingers over the scattered parchment on the desk as she walked toward him.
"Yes," she continued. "Improper behavior consisted of things like holding hands in the corridor or inappropriate public displays of affection in common areas."
Harry felt his cheeks grow red. He swallowed. Ginny took another step toward him. Harry scooted sideways and stepped back, feeling the classroom wall press into his back. Why did the torch light have to shine like that on her hair?
"Where did you learn that?" he asked, trying to find something to do with his hands which suddenly felt useless and conspicuous. He shoved them behind his back, feeling the stone bite into his knuckles. Ginny took another step in his direction.
"Fred and George. They have always believed in knowing the rules before you bend them in order to weigh the risk of the consequences."
"Bend the rules?" Harry was having problems following the conversation. Ginny was standing close enough the fronts of their robes were touching.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?" Harry bit his bottom lip, afraid to say anything.
"You know the rules never fully defined what a common area was."
"Oh?" Harry's breathing quickened. His eyes focused on Ginny's lips.
"Without knowing all the information, as a prefect, I couldn't, in good faith, dock you points…"
Harry looked down at Ginny. He said the first thing that popped into his mind. "Know thy loopholes?"
Ginny smiled. "Something like that," she whispered as she stood on her toes to meet Harry halfway. Harry's lips on hers were light as a feather, warm and gentle and fleeting. They parted ever so slightly, staring at each other in wonder.
Harry cleared his throat. "So, uh, did Fred and George ever find out the consequences for kissing a prefect?"
Ginny smiled. "No, I'm not sure they ever met a prefect they wanted to kiss."
"Too bad for them," Harry said softly as he leaned into her again.
As his lips met hers, Harry touched Ginny's cheek, her skin soft and warm beneath his fingertips. Ginny was sure her chest wasn't big enough for her heart which felt like it was going explode. She pressed her palms flat to the front of Harry's robes, feeling the solidness of him, his heart beat, strong and fast. Harry's glasses felt cold against her warm cheeks as she shifted her head. Cool air brushed her face as Harry pulled back. Ginny caught her bottom lip with her teeth. Harry watched Ginny's hair slide through his fingers as he fought to get his breathing under control.
"Ginny?"
Ginny opened her eyes.
"Professor McGonagall said as long as it's empty, I can use her classroom whenever I need to study."
Ginny blinked at Harry. It took a moment for what Harry had said to sink in. Then Ginny giggled. "Good to know, Harry," she replied, eyes twinkling.
++++
Professor McGonagall strode quickly down the hallway toward the Transfiguration classroom.
"Professor," she called seeing the headmaster. "Have you seen a package for me? Professor Flitwick said he thought he saw you giving it to Ginny Weasley a short time ago and told her to take it to my classroom."
Dumbledore stood directly in her path. He reached out and took her arm, turning her around and redirecting her in the direction she came.
"Yes, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, eyes twinkling. "I did come into possession of your parcel and passed it onto Miss Weasley. Yes, I had her drop it off on your desk in your classroom. I'm confident you will find it there in the morning."
"Thank you, Headmaster," she said, looking over her shoulder. "But I have to check in on Mr. Potter who is working in my classroom."
"I'm sure he is doing fine, Minerva. Have you had dinner? I understand we are having a special treat tonight in honor of the upcoming quidditch match. I've noticed Gryffindor's team is young but rather talented," Dumbledore commented, as he escorted her down the corridor.
+++++
If asked by a ministry official, Percy Weasley would say he took great pride in even the most mundane of tasks. If asked by anyone he trusted outside the Ministry, Percy Weasley would honestly say he took great pride in even the most mundane of tasks, however, there were some he'd really rather not do. There wasn’t a more mundane task than inventory reconciliation and there wasn't anything Percy would rather not do more.
Inventory reconciliation was the brainchild of Lewis Fielding. Its purpose was to track the sales of items deemed to be concerned with, using or possessed of dark magic. The Ministry wanted to know who was buying what, for how much and when. Someone had had the good sense to realize that if the Ministry shut down shops such as Borgin and Burkes that dealt in what they liked to term "Dark Wizarding Antiquities", a flourishing black market would arise, thus making it much more difficult to track who was interested in such things. And, since every once in a great while, these reports did yield pertinent information, reconciliations remained a fixture of Percy’s job.
Of course, Percy thought wryly as he examined the scrolls of parchment in front of him, if you were an intelligent wizard interested in such things, why would you shop at a store you knew was being watched by the Ministry? And why did Cornelius Fudge insist on being informed of discrepancies before the Aurors were alerted? As a Ministry employee, Percy would never question these things out loud. However, every time he passed his father in the corridors, nagging doubts such as these would pop into his head and refuse to let go.
Nevertheless, Percy continued his work, comparing the scrolls of parchment from week to week, documenting the sales of what to whom. This week, he left Borgin and Burkes until last. Borgin and Burkes kept by far the most accurate and comprehensible records of any shop located in Knockturn Alley (a sure sign they were hiding something, Percy figured) normally making reviewing the reports an easy task. However, a month ago, the shop experienced a bump in inventory making Percy's job much more tedious. He was half way through his comparison when he noticed it.
He double checked it. He reviewed the previous week. No, there was a book missing. He thought this odd. He made note of it to inform Fudge and scheduled time to look into it next week. Then, in an effort to get done before Lewis Fielding came back to remind Percy of who he worked with, Percy forged on.
++++
Hermione jolted awake, feeling a large weight land on her legs. A hand clamped over her mouth stifling her scream.
“Shhhh! Hermione, it’s me!” Ginny whispered, tentatively lifting her hand from Hermione’s mouth.
“Ginny, what are you doing? It’s past midnight!” Hermione whispered back, not wanting to wake her roommates. “Are you okay?”
Hermione could see Ginny violently shaking her head up and down in the moonlight.
“Are you sure?” Hermione asked again, slowly as if talking to a child.
“Yes, I’m sure!” Ginny said giggling. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait any longer. After quidditch practice, I’m so behind with O.W.L.s and everything, I had to go to the library to study. When Madam Pince kicked everybody out, I came back to the common room. But I just couldn’t wait any longer. I had to tell someone!”
“Tell somebody what?”
“We did it. Well, not IT it, but it. Hermione,” Ginny said, putting her palms flat on Hermione’s blankets and leaning close. “He kissed me! Harry kissed me!” Ginny couldn’t hold it in any longer. Grabbing Hermione’s pillow and shoving it over her face, she fell back on the bed and squealed into the feathers.
Hermione sat there for a moment, watching her friend catch her breath and grinned. If anybody deserved this kind of giddy joy, it was Ginny and Harry.
“So,” Hermione said, leaning forward, “How was it?”
Ginny lifted the pillow off her face and sighed. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. All she could do was grin.
“That good, eh?” Hermione observed, laughing. “I’m glad for you two. Now go to bed! It’s late! And try not to float all the way to your room. You’ll bump your head on the top of the door on your way out.”
Hermione ducked as the pillow came sailing her way.
++++
"An interesting proposition, Lucius. What is the timeline?"
"My Lord, it all depends…you know the human heart is not a predictable beast."
"The human heart is an enemy to itself. I don't want to waste time on experimentation."
"Yes, My Lord, but I have a reliable source who can keep us apprised of the situation. Things can happen quickly when the time is right."
"Make it soon."
"Yes, My Lord."
++++
AN “ Okay, I know lots of people don’t like Percy. And up to the point when I wrote this, I counted myself strongly in that camp. But as I wrote this, I decided Percy could go one of two ways “ he could either have truly been sucked into the dark side or be more of a Prodigal son figure. And in my defense of making Percy a sympathetic character, even Fred and George have said that while he’s a git, they thought he’d come around.
Stay tuned…Harry and Ginny are falling in love and there's a new DADA Professor in town