InsaneJournal

Introspective: Good Intentions Pave the Way to Hell
Date and Time: March 5, 2008, early evening
Characters: Percy Weasley
Location: Ministry of Magic, London
Private/Public: Private
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Percy's thoughts distract him from work
Completion: Complete



Mired under so much parchment work, Percy hadn't even noticed when the windows of his office magically turned from sunset to pitch darkness, the candles throughout the room magically timed to ignite after a certain hour. He had gone through two quills in as many hours and by the time he needed a third, he lifted his head and rubbed his stiff neck with ink-stained fingers. Percy glanced around and noticed the candles burning and he started, looking towards the window.

"Shite," he muttered, then sighed. He was losing track of hours again. It was not a good sign.

Since his and Hermione's return from Africa last month, it seemed almost nothing had gone right. Nathan Webbe, whom Percy had been going to give recommendation to taking charge of the Malfoy Home, had been dismissed from the Ministry. It was a regret that laid heavy on his heart, but not so much as the fact that Penelope still lay at St. Mungo's - still uncertain whether she would recover from an injury which Percy understood was treatable by only finding the blasted owl which caused it all in the first place.

No. That wasn't right. It wasn't the creature's fault. Not the fault of an innocent bird, but that of a Death Eater who enslaved and abused a young girl who's only comfort was in the bond she had with a feathered friend. A creature who's memories Penelope unlocked and saved the child who had recovered and was now under the Ministry's care - though it may cost the witch her life.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Percy swore, putting both elbows on his desk as his palms pressed against his temples. Guilt. Oh he felt it. Kept feeling if for weeks now. Guilt that he could do nothing - couldn't even see her, thanks to his older brother whom wasn't even speaking to Percy at the moment. When Percy had arrived at St. Mungo's after learning what had happened, Charlie was of course there and curtly told his younger brother that the best thing that Percy could do was to stay as far away from Penelope as he could.

Percy hadn't argued.

Kingsley had gained valuable information that could save Penelope's life. Find the owl which she treated. Apparently during the ritual which Penelope had performed, when the injury transferred to her, a part of her was transferred to the owl. What, exactly, was uncertain. Penelope's condition was too weak to do much more than try and keep her as stable as possible. For how much longer, it was more uncertain.

Biting on a nail, the bitter taste of ink filled Percy's mouth and he spat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It was a habit which he thought he had rid himself of years ago, but in these past few weeks it reemerged with a vengeance, leaving his nail beds a little worse for wear. It wasn't the only thing that had changed. He wasn't sleeping, though he was certain it was something he had been able to hide from Hermione. His appetite had waned and he ate only when necessity dictated. Above all, Percy had become consumed with work. It was as if he was performing a self-imposed penance upon himself for the guilt he felt - for his part in all of what had happened.

Oh, Kingsley assured Percy that what had occurred might have regardless of whether Percy was in Africa or not. If only Percy could believe the Minister. In a bout of self-loathing, Percy tried to even resign. Kingsley would not hear of it. So much so that he had told the Weasley that port-key authorizations would be denied unless on an emergency basis, which would then have to be authorized by Kingsley himself. Percy also had to hand in his Ministry-issued muggle passport. It was a "precaution", so Kingsley said with concern in his eyes. Percy smiled wryly at the memory of that meeting. Oh it was a precaution indeed. So that Percy wouldn't jump ship and do something stupid out of his own guilt.

Kingsley always thought of everything.

The clock on Percy's desk chimed seven times and Percy decided that since he couldn't concentrate on the parchment in front of him any longer, it was time he should go home. Go home to the bright spot of sun in his life - one who had perfumed locks of wavy hair and a smile that seemed to dispel any gloom. Hermione no doubt would be up waiting for him to come home - probably chide him for staying at work too long as she looked up from whatever book she was reading as she curled up on the couch in his livingroom. Percy smiled, Hermione's face filling his mind and his heart didn't feel so heavy any longer. In fact it fluttered and leapt at the knowledge that tonight he would again curl up against the woman who had changed so much in his life lately. The woman he knew whom he loved.

It was time to go home.