He wasn't a monster! Percy needed to justify himself.
"Ginny basically wrote the same thing to me. I didn't even bother trying to explain and told her that she wouldn't be able to understand. I did what I was told, resisting would've been much worse. It was like... group consciousness, and you followed orders. It was fear and confusion." The more he spoke, the less he made sense, when he heard himself speak. Why didn't he protest and face the consequences? Wasn't that the braver, nobler thing to do?
"I very sorry about Hermione." Percy hung his head. He wasn't in the room when Hermione was branded, but he was for others, so he could imagine her reaction, the horror, when it first dawned on them what was about to happen, the way her face would twist in pain when the hot iron seared her skin, the smell of burning flesh and the echo of her scream.
When he spoke again, Percy's voice was quieter and hesitant. "That... organization... which you and Hermione started... the Order of the Phoenix. Are you... still doing that?"