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Percy I. Weasley (pompous_percy) wrote in strugglewithin,

Percy was walking through the atrium with a stack of papers in front of his nose. He figured he'd have to wait a while to catch the lift, as an incident involving him, Hermes, and plate of toast and a soft boiled egg had detained him longer than he'd have liked. What he hadn't expected - and really, who would've - was for the woman standing next to him to shout so loudly that he dropped his papers.

They drifted and scattered across the floor. Normally, Percy would have been running around, summoning them up like a madman, but at the moment, he stood, transfixed by the new sculpture decorating the Ministry's hall.

The blood began to drain away from his face. At first it looked like a witch and wizard sitting on a throne of some kind, but on second glance, he noticed the throne had faces. And limbs. Horrible, twisted, Muggle faces.

"Oh my," he said after a moment, resisting the urge to take off his glasses and polish the lenses. "That's not. That is, it couldn't be-," he paused, finding himself unable to put what he saw into words.