Percy was in his office writing a report about a recent floo conversation with his counterpart in China that was about something Percy really couldn't have cared less about when the explosion rocked the building, sending Percy's head reeling against the desk corner.
He felt himself being dragged to his feet, forcing himself to focus he realized it was his bodyguard. "What's happening?" He managed to mumble as he felt himself being pushed down the hallway.
"We have to get you out of here, attack on the Ministry," the bodyguard responded.
"Thanks, the sound of spellfire didn't make that obvious," Percy rolled his eyes, stumbling against the wall.
It quickly became clear that getting out wasn't going to be easy and that he was only slowing them down. At that moment he noticed he was limping slowly.
"Go, try to get out of here," Percy said to the bodyguard. "And don't give me any of that you have to protect me bollocks. If you try to get me out of here, we're both as good as dead. But you have a better chance without having to drag my arse."
Percy pointed down the hall and screamed go. Then he hobbled back to his office and sealed it with every known spell. It might give him a shot at surviving this kerfuffle.
If Voldemort was attacking the Ministry, that meant one thing: Dumbledore must be dead. That's what the old codger had said anyway. So, he sent a fire message to Snape:
Ministry is falling. Do not try to contact, and make sure none of my idiotic family members try either. I'll be in touch when I can.
"As good a time as any to get work done," he mumbled as he returned to the paperwork that Voldemort's attack had so rudely interrupted.