Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Percy sighed heavily as he carried a box full of his belongings from his former desk. He felt like a fool, an idiot…no one was ever going to take him seriously again. Not that his siblings ever did, but he dreaded coming home and becoming an object of mockery.

“Thank you for the offer, Minister. But I can’t take it. I don’t believe this is the right thing to do.”

“Mr Weasley, I don’t believe you understand the circumstances! I am offering you a way out of your unfortunate situation. This whole affair regarding Barty Crouch and your blunder…we can all move past it.” Fudge’s smile was suspicious and sleazy at most. “A very unfortunate situation, Mr Weasley. You are a young, bright and ambitious hard worker with a good future if you choose right.”

Something didn’t feel right, Percy could nearly feel his instinct screaming at him to beware. He could remember how his father always used to tell him one thing; to not trust anything or anyone if you can’t see the brains behind it.

And his late paternal grandmother, Cedrella Weasley neé Black who was a Slytherin. She used to tell him…to watch out for a far too good offer. She used to tell him a lot of things, back when she still lived and babysat him and his siblings when Mum was expecting Ron and later, Ginny.

And Percival Weasley wasn’t a fool, despite contrary belief.

“I decline, Minister.” Percy said calmly. “It’s my final decision. I haven’t earned this position by my own merits, I have committed misconduct in my workplace.”

Fudge was no longer smiling, which actually eased on Percy’s nerves. Instead, he frowned and gave him a cold glare full of scorn. “Very well. Then I’m afraid you can no longer work here at the Ministry, due to your misconduct. Good day.”

Percy stood up and nodded, he was holding in his emotions as he left the office. The door closed behind him and he hurried towards his soon-to-be former workplace to pack his things.

He hoped desperately that he made the right choice…

He stood alone in the lift and decided to shrink his box with possessions. He cast a non-verbal hex and placed the tiny box inside the inner pocket of his jacket. Percy took off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his pointy nose. 

What in Merlin’s name was he supposed to do now, when he was fired and unemployed? Mum will cry upon this news, Dad was going to be so disappointed in him, his older brothers will just give him those horrid pitying looks and he’ll become the laughing stock of his younger siblings…

“Percy?”

He had just entered the Atrium and was attempting to leave unnoticed when he turned around, facing his father. 

Dad, who looked so worried and concerned for him. He already knew that Percy was called to a meeting with the Minister.

“I’m fired.” Percy whispered and he was trying his hardest to not break down. “I-I was offered a promotion as his assistant. I declined, it didn’t…feel right to take it.”

His father looked at him, he had that look of pity and concern. Arthur went and embraced him, wordlessly and Percy accepted the comfort. 

“For whatever that is worth…I’m sorry.” His father mumbled to him. “And I am proud of you, no matter what you do.”

Percy didn’t care about his failure anymore. The only thing that was worth far more than gold and rubies was to hear his father was proud of him.

He broke away first from the hug. “I don’t want to go home just yet…” Percy said, he felt disoriented and suffocated by the Ministry’s surroundings. “I think I need to get some air, maybe look around London while I have the chance.”

“Very well.” Arthur told his son, he had that gentle smile that comforted his son more than he could imagine. “Do you want to wait until I end my shift? We could head home together.”

“That’d be nice, yes…” Percy said. “I’ll meet you at five then.”

“See you, Percy. Be safe.”

Percy was in no hurry to leave his father behind, but he couldn’t stand looking at the Ministry anymore. He needed to get out of here before everything felt too much for him to handle. 

So he left and never looked back. 

The area where the Ministry of Magic was located in London was called Westminster. 

Percy didn’t get an “Outstanding” in Muggle Studies for nothing and he had decided that subject was just as important as Magical Theory. How were witches and wizards supposed to survive, if they knew nothing of the Muggle world?

For the first hour, Percy was walking in a daze. Fired…he was fired. The worst outcome he had dreaded ever since Mr Crouch had appeared at Hogwarts and then disappeared, leading to his inquiry. He wanted to wake up in his bed back home, he wished this was a nightmare and he would soon wake up to Mum’s breakfast cooking and her radio playing Celestina Warbuck.

But it was real. He was fired. A failure. The prodigal son wasn’t such a prodigy, after all…

Percy took a moment to see wherever his legs had taken him. He remembered he crossed the bridge of the Thames and then just kept walking along the big river. He dug in his pocket and brought up the clock he had gotten for his seventeenth birthday. 

Huh…only been more than thirty minutes since he left the Ministry. 

He put his beloved clock back in the pocket, it was an heirloom and had previously belonged to his paternal grandfather. He took pride in gently caring for the clock, just as his grandfather had done and it was in a very good shape. Not a single scratch nor dent on it.

Percy looked up and was greeted by the sight of a building he had never seen before, but it was certainly a sight. It was not such a big building, but old and elegant enough in white stone and pillars. The sign above was written in gold painted letters.

The Magnus Institute

A Muggle institute? An institution usually means it’s an organization founded for a religious, educational, professional, or social purpose. It doesn’t look very religious and the lack of students in the area disqualified the educational option.

Percy was curious, far too curious to resist going up the stone stairs and enter for just a look.

He pushed the doors open and entered. He found himself in a magnificent entrance hall with marbled flooring, wooden panel walls and chandeliers in the ceilings. He could feel the air being very professional, scholarly and dignified. He could see three floors with railings and polished signs that pointed out the directions for “The Library”, “The Canteen” and “Research Hall”.

Where has this place been for his entire life? 

Suddenly it felt for Percy that he was meant to come here. This was the proper place for him, not being wasted away in some dusty department at the Ministry that sometimes felt like a joke.

Percy soon stopped by the front desk with a middle-aged yet attractive woman sat behind with a polite smile. “Good day. Are you here to use our library or to leave a statement?”

“Statement?” Percy asked, confused. “No, I was just outside and I saw this place and got curious…what is this place?”

“Any problem, Rosie?”

A stranger had joined them, he was tall with a straight back and even though Percy was tall (on an average level) on his own, this man easily towered over him. He had dark, backwards combed hair and golden green eyes that gave Percy the impression that he could see right through his soul. He was dressed in a hard pressed suit and sported a perfect pencil mustache.

He nearly reminded him of Mr Crouch, but less stoic and cold. And his voice was smooth and nearly enchanting which made Percy nearly question his preferences.

“Oh, hello, Mr Bouchard!” Rosie, the receptionist, said cheerfully. “We just got this visitor in-”

“Thank you, I could take it from here.” Mr Bouchard said simply and turned to a nervous Percy. “I understand my institute caught your attention then?”

“Quite so, yes.” Percy said shyly. “I can tell this is a professional place of decorum, but what is this place?” He walked alongside Mr Bouchard. 

“This is the Magnus Institute.” Mr Bouchard introduced with a charming smile. “We’re an academic institution dedicated to researching the esoteric and paranormal. However, we do not investigate the paranormal, we research for true knowledge in the unknown. I am Elias Bouchard, the head of this Institute.”

Percy was truly fascinated by how elegantly Mr Bouchard put it. A scholarly research center, fully dedicated to the unknown? It felt nearly like a dream come true. Percy wouldn’t count the wizarding world in the labels of the “unknown” or “esoteric”. 

It nearly appeared like the Department of Mysteries, but less secretive and in the more academic sense.

“Mr Bouchard, you wouldn’t mind giving me a tour? I am truly intrigued by this fascinating place of academia.”

“By all means, follow me.” Mr Bouchard smiled. “If we aim to impress a scholar as yourself, then perhaps the library will certainly do so.”

Percy had spent an hour in the company of Mr Bouchard, on the tour around the Magnus Institute. And by Merlin, he was impressed far more than he could ever be by the Ministry.

Percy’s blue eyes widened in sheer excitement when he saw the library with the tall-to-the-ceiling bookshelves in mahogany and filled with all the literature, donated for nearly two hundred years, and the crystal chandeliers in the ceilings, delicate and magnificent. Tall and arched windows that let in natural light and a dozen of desks to study by.

“The library is the apple of our institute, many students from universities come to borrow our books and study in their chosen fields. Our library is one of the most renowned, as a research center for the esoteric.” Mr Bouchard explained.

Percy felt that he must’ve died and landed himself in what he could consider as heaven. Never in his wildest dreams…he could imagine such a lovely sight.

Next, Mr Bouchard steered them to the Research Hall.

And if the library was the apple of the institute, then the research hall was the crown jewel. 

The research hall was a large hall with the same chandeliers in the ceilings, but the interior was different from the library. While the latter just had a dozen desks, the research hall had far more desks with half-walls that give privacy to the researchers who worked by their computers.

There was a large podium at the back, presumably for lectures by visiting professors in the area.

“This is the research hall, where our researchers work very diligently on their assignments. Sometimes, they get assigned to the field where they aim to investigate the truth behind active statements.”

“I have wondered about that. What do you mean with statements?” Percy asked.

“And that is where we will come to soon.” Elias said as he led on. “Ever been through something strange that you can’t explain? Any supernatural or unexplainable experience or encounter occurring within the realms of apparent reality and I don’t mean out-of-body experiences, visions, hallucinations, or dreams. The esoteric.”

Percy would’ve thought that most Muggles usually found excuses to the magic that happened in their world, but it appeared they were smarter than that. But “the esoteric” didn’t necessarily mean magic either…

What if there was something else out there in the world no witch or wizard could ever discover? The existence of ghosts was something not even the best wizards of their age could figure out the secrets of. 

What if there was so much more to see and know?

“I think I understand, Mr Bouchard. But what happens to the statements that lead nowhere?”

“They become archived.” Mr Bouchard said simply. “I’m afraid the archives aren't as impressive as the rest of the institute. A few archivists in the past have been far too slack in their management, which caused them to fall into disarray. I lack a decent archivist who is dedicated enough to organize the archives to a better glory.”

Percy nearly perked up at that. He knew nearly next to nothing about archiving, but he knew all there is to know about organizing. He was forever a scholar in his heart and the thought of working here, Muggle institute or not, would be a dream.

“I’m sure you will find a good archivist in due time, Mr Bouchard.” Percy chose his next words carefully, he didn’t want it to come off as if he were desperate to work here. “I don’t know much about the art of archiving, but I can nearly imagine myself in such employment one day.”

“Is that so?” Mr Bouchard said with a smile. “That is interesting…very interesting, indeed. If you are interested in the job opening, we could schedule an appointment soon?”

Percy’s eyes widened. He couldn’t be serious, could he? “With all due respect, sir. I have recently been fired from my last workplace this morning and I’m not sure if I have the skills you are looking for.”

“I’d like to make that judgment by myself.” Mr Bouchard replied with confidence. “I have an opening tomorrow morning, at 10.00 o’clock, for an appointment. Now, I believe I have taken too much of your time already. I’m sure you have somewhere to be. I will see you tomorrow, Mr Weasley.”

With that, he left and Percy stood there in the entrance hall alone, stupefied over what just happened. He checked his clock and realized he had less than an hour to head back to Westminster to wait for his father.

One thing didn’t occur to him until when he had long left the institute, which made Percy frown.

‘Hang on…how did he know my last name?’ He thought to himself.

Chapter Text

Percy apparated along with his father back to the Burrow, where his anxious mother was waiting to hear about the verdict.

Well, maybe “verdict” was a strong word, but surprisingly fitting in this situation.

No matter how many times Percy ran it in his head, he knew no words could reassure his mother when she heard the news. Percy felt guilty that he had failed in working at the Ministry. It was also unbelievable, he didn’t even last a year after his Hogwarts graduation.

From the moment he stepped inside, Percy knew that everything would change and he dreaded it, he hated changes. It was far outside his comfort zone and he took pleasure in all his calm routines.

“We’re home!” Arthur called out as he entered the house with his third son in tow. Percy hadn’t said much to him, but only said that he’d want to talk about the issue with his entire family. 

Molly left the kitchen and instantly rushed to Percy. “Oh, thank goodness you’re home!” She embraced him before Percy could get a word in, he was a little surprised over the sudden hug. Even though he was still convinced he was in a daze or something. “Now, tell us everything, Percy. We’ve been waiting to hear about your meeting!”

“Not me.” Charlie said, he sat by the dinner table. “Mum, it’s Percy. I’m sure he’s going to keep his work, it doesn’t make sense to fire him-”

“I am fired.”

The silence fell terribly fast over the family. Bill and Charlie looked so shocked over the answer, the twins looked at each other in mute surprise, Ron gaped and Ginny stared as if he was joking. And Mum…Percy didn’t dare to look at his mother.

Bill was the first one to recover. “What?”

Percy swallowed, the meeting with Fudge still aches in his memory. “I-I’m fired…” He repeated. “He wanted to promote me to his assistant and…I said no. I refused.”

“Why did you say no?” Ron asked.

“Ron!”

“No, no! It’s fine, I…something didn’t feel right with that promotion.” Percy said shakily. “I did commit a workplace misconduct-”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, you’re just 18! How were you supposed to know something was wrong with Crouch?” Charlie protested angrily. Percy had never really gotten well along with Charlie, due to their conflicting tempers and lack of common interests, but he knew he loved him anyways. “You only knew him for…what, two months, tops?”

“Yes, but that isn’t the point. The point is, which I have been constantly told during my inquiry, that I should’ve addressed the whole issue behind his sick leave and…well. I couldn’t take that promotion, it wasn’t right and I refuse to be used as a tool. I can’t find myself to trust the Minister, not after what happened this June!”

He felt his father touch his shoulder, rubbing it gently. “I told him that I’m proud of him, even if I wish he weren’t fired for refusing that promotion.”

“But it doesn’t make sense! Everyone knows Percy works harder than anyone, he practically lives to lecture and can ramble up all the laws in his sleep!” Charlie ranted. If it was something the dragontamer brother couldn’t stand, it was slighting any of his siblings.

“Percy, what are you gonna do now?” Bill said and effectively put a stop to Charlie’s angry protests. 

Percy was aware how everyone was looking at him expectantly. “I…” He started and felt very vulnerable. “I may have found a solution? I didn’t want to return home without Dad, so I went for a walk while I waited for him to quit for the day, so I found this place-”

And just like that, Percy went into his newest hyperfixation and explained his lovely time at the Magnus Institute. The words were just flowing out as he described everything from the white, old building with pillars, the exquisite library, the magnificent research hall and the enigmatic Mr Bouchard.

“-and imagine tall bookshelves, filled to the brim with all the ancient scripts and literature from every corner of the world!” Percy kept going, he was nearly buzzing with excitement. “Crystal chandeliers in the ceilings and a dozen desks to study by. But that isn’t all, the research hall! Oh Merlin, I can hardly describe it because mere words could never make it justice!” He paced back and forth in the kitchen and dining area.

Fred shook his head. “We lost him, Forge. He went to the dark side.”

“Yup, wager he won’t come home unless we drag him, Gred.”

“-and Mr Bouchard himself! Goodness me, Mr Bouchard! I was nearly reminded by Mr Crouch, but he couldn’t be more different! He held this air of decorum, but he is so charismatic and smooth. I would nearly wager my whole life that he knows everything there is to know! And he told me that he’s been looking for an archivist since the archives is in a horrible disarray and offered me a job interview tomorrow-”

“Wait, what?” His father interrupted. “Really? After just one meeting with that man?”

Percy finally stopped. “Yes.” He said simply. 

“You do remember what I told you about trusting people you don’t really know?”

Percy was flustered. “Well, of course. But-”

“Percy, I thought you actually learnt something when it came to Crouch and now, Fudge.” His father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You probably know this from many times, but I need to tell you this again. These are different times now than you’re used to, you can’t blindly give your trust to just anyone if you can’t see the brains behind it!”

“How much harm can this do, it’s just a Muggle institute.”

“Muggle?”

“You didn’t mention that part!” Charlie accused.

Percy’ scarlet blush reached his neck. “Well, I didn’t think that was important? And if I’m going to be honest, I think it would suit me…for now!” He quickly said. “Mum? Please say something?”

His mother had stayed quiet for the entire time Percy had been talking nonstop about the Magnus Institute. “Oh, it’s wonderful news. But Percy, dear. Are you sure you want to do this? I thought if you try to find another job in our world-”

“Well, that didn’t work out, did it?” Ron pointed out and hissed when Ginny elbowed him. “What? Everyone was thinking about it!”

“I don’t think it’s likely I will become employed again at the Ministry, Mum.” Percy said. “And this doesn’t have to be forever. I can always quit, if I’m not satisfied.”

“Oh but a Muggle work, dear-”

“It will be fine, Mum.” Percy said. “Besides, how can I know if I’m not suited for it if I don’t try? Besides, I’m more than certain that I will restore the archives to a glory no one has ever seen!” He huffed pompously.

“Molly dear, let him do this.” His father took his side. “Percy is already determined and out of experience, he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. And you heard him, he can quit if he isn’t satisfied.”

“As long he doesn’t get discovered-”

“Mum, I think we all know Percy knows our laws more than well. He won’t violate the statute of secrecy if he works in a muggle institute.” Bill smiled. 

“And Percy is right here…” He muttered and crossed his arms. He looked at his younger siblings. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s great for you, you like books and organising things.” Ginny said, always the supportive one. “You even organised everything in my room once!”

Fred lit up. “This is a great opportunity for you and more importantly, for us-

“Oh no…” Percy mumbled.

“Indeed, Gred!” George agreed. “Instead of Pompous Prefect Percy-”

“We’ll have PAP!”

Percy nearly dreaded his next words. “What on earth’s name is PAP?”

Fred and George grinned before they answered. “Pompous Archivist Percy!” They said in union.

Everyone laughed and Percy wanted to sigh at their antics again. “Ron?” He asked.

“Just go for it?” Ron shrugged. “Maybe you get less of a prat in a muggle ghost investigation-”

“It’s an institute, Ronald!” Percy corrected him importantly. “The Magnus Institute does not investigate the paranormal, we research the statements made by people who had allegedly supernatural encounters!”

“It’s the same thing!”

“It’s not the same thing, are you even listening to me?!”

“Alright, that is enough.” Dad said and instantly put an end at their bickering. “Nevertheless, we all need to talk as a family about what’s going on.”

Everyone of the Weasleys sat around the long dinner table, it was clear that this was a family meeting and quite a serious one, to boot. 

“We’re going to leave our home for a little while, just for the summer.” Dad announced. “Now when Voldemort is back, we need to lie low and not attract any attention to any potential Death Eaters or the Ministry.”

Ron frowned. “Where are we going then? What about Harry and Hermione?”

“We’re staying in a safe place in London and I’m afraid Harry needs to stay with his relatives for now. Hermione is welcome, if she can.” Dad said. 

“I’m currently arranging with my employers so I can get a desk job in London, so I can stay close by.” Bill explained. “Charlie is staying in Romania, he can contact international wizards better and alert them of the situation.” His brother next to him nodded.

Percy didn’t say anything, aware that he couldn’t do anything to help anymore. Not when he was fired from the Ministry and currently considering Mr Bouchard’s offer.

“The place we’re going to stay. We recently found out that Sirius Black is innocent and it’s his place we’re staying at.”

“Pardon?” Percy snapped to attention. “I-I’m sorry, what?! ”

“Oh right, he doesn’t know.” Bill said.

“Know what?!” Percy nearly shrieked.

“Funny story, mate. Turns out Sirius is innocent, he was framed by Peter Pettigrew, who is an unregistered Animagus, and was Scabbers-” Ron began.

Percy blanched. “ What. ”

“And remember when we all ended up in Infirmity at the end of my third year? We were at the Shrieking Shack, confronted Sirius Black, exposed Pettigrew. But then it was full moon, Professor Lupin transformed into werewolf, Pettigrew got away, Sirius had to flee and now Pettigrew is back to Snakeface and that’s why he’s back.” Ron finished after putting it out so bluntly and simply he could.

Percy had gone very pale.

“Perce? Percy?” Bill called out to his younger brother.

“I…” Percy trailed off, his hands were shaking under the table and his leg was bouncing out of anxiety. “I…” He couldn’t get out any more words as he tried to process this. “...I think I need to lie down for a while.”

He rose from his chair and went upstairs. The kitchen was dead quiet at his reaction.

“Wait for it…” Fred muttered.

They heard Percy’s door close and then him screaming terrified.

“There it is.” George added.

“Oh, poor dear!” Mum said worriedly. “He found that rat when he was little and was so attached to him. Percy must have such a terrible shock.”

“He was five, dearest.” Dad told her. “Just a child, he couldn’t have known. No one did.”

Bill rose from his chair, clearing his voice. “I’ll put on some tea…” He said awkwardly. “Percy will be back in a moment, he just needs to…process.”

Charlie, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny took it as a sign to play a game of Snap Cards while Dad read the newspaper. Mum was dealing with dinner while Bill boiled some tea water and Charlie prepared their cups.

It felt like an hour had passed until Percy finally came down. He looked pale with red rimmed eyes. 

“Yes, hello.” He mumbled as he entered the kitchen again. “Apologies for my reaction, it was a lot to take in.”

He took a seat while Mum handed him a cup of hot tea. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Mum.” Percy said and took a sip. “Well…I have housed a traitor in my hands for twelve years…Good Lord, this is so bad it only can be. Merlin, this means Sirius Black has been falsely imprisoned for twelve years.”

“Yup.” Ron agreed. “Turns out it was Crouch who gave that command back then. Glad to see you’re on our side.”

Percy suddenly glared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, we just know you’re a stickler for rules and kind of a prat, so-”

“I would never imprison an innocent person in the only place that’s the equality of hell!” Percy hissed venomously. 

“Ronald, Percival! That is enough!” Mum ordered strictly. “Right, we’re going to leave for this new place soon.”

“When is “soon”, Mum?” Percy asked, thinking about his appointment tomorrow.

“Tonight.”

“Pardon?” Percy was flabbergasted.

“Last week, your mother and I agreed that it’s better that we need to get to London as soon as possible. It’s better to take our chance while the Floo Network isn’t guarded as it will be soon. So after dinner, we need all of you to pack everything you need and then get ready.”

Dinner was not an uncomfortable affair, but Percy felt the issue about the current situation loomed over his head. Besides, it was another thing he wanted to ask without coming off too curious.

Bill was having another mild dispute with Mum about his hair, Charlie wanted to hear the latest of Quidditch which Fred, George, Ron and Ginny discussed eagerly. 

“Is something on your mind, Perce?” Dad asked. “You have that look on your face again.”

“I was just wondering…about living at Mr Black’s place. Is there another reason beyond being safe or…?”

“Very well.” Dad sighed, it was as if he figured Percy would ask. 

“Arthur!” Mum hissed in disapproval.

“Dumbledore needs as many allies on our side, he leads the Order of the Phoenix. It’s an organisation opposing Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Me and your mother intend to join them, as well Bill and Charlie do.”

“We want to join too!” Fred and George shouted.

“Absolutely not! You are far too young-”

“We’re of age!”

“We’re adults now!”

“No.” Dad said strictly. “Fred, George. You’re not joining the Order. Nor is Ron or Ginny. It’s not safe for you. You two may be of age, but you are too young. You don’t understand what it truly means.”

“What if Percy joins?” Fred protested. “If Perfect Percy joins, then so will we!”

Percy then noticed that everyone’s eyes were on him. “I…!” He stammered and considered. He could vaguely recall his maternal uncles, talking about some order when he was little. But then they died, just before the seemingly fall of Voldemort. 

“I don’t know.”

Mum looked very relieved to hear that. “There you see, Percy is sensible enough to not-”

“Hang on, I’m not finished.” Percy said. “I don’t think it’s likely I will join the Order unless I’m sure of it. I don’t know how it works, who is in it, who I can trust and what is required of me. I want information, of course. But not at the expense of my own life or safety.”

“Dumbledore is there, what else do you need?” Charlie insisted. “He knows what’s going on and probably got a plan.”

Percy hesitated. “...it’s kind of what worries me. To put blind faith in Dumbledore.”

Dad set down his cutlery, looking seriously at his third son. “Percy. You don’t believe Harry would lie, right?”

“Not at all!” Percy said. “I know Harry, he is the very last person in the world who would lie about V-Voldemort’s return. It’s Dumbledore I’m having trust issues with. He is a great wizard for sure, he’s very wise and powerful-”

“But?” Dad inquired.

“I have never quite forgotten all the things that happened at Hogwarts, sometimes in front of him.” Percy finally laid it out. “First off, the Philosopher’s Stone. Professor Quirrell was possessed by V-Voldemort and tried to take the stone, Harry defeated him at the near cost of his life. Not even Ron came out unscratched.”

“Percy-” Ron started.

“Next, the Chamber of Secrets, students were petrified and Ginny was used by a young version of V-Voldemort and traumatised. Harry nearly died .”

“Yeah, but it was Lucius Malfoy who-”

“Then it was the whole situation with Sirius Black. I know now he’s innocent to the crimes he’s accused to, but no one knew that at the point and the bloody Dementors everywhere, they did nothing than to terrorize poor students.”

“Well, Dumbledore couldn’t really do anything about them-”

“And now, this Triwizard Tournament that was really a big bloody nightmare and fiasco!” Percy exclaimed. “I knew Cedric, for goodness’ sake! How shocked do you think I was when I heard he was dead? And the one who put poor Harry through all this was someone we thought we could trust, a Death Eater in disguise of someone Dad knew?!”

“Percy, I understand you’re upset and probably shaken after all this.” Dad began, he did his best to reassure his third son. “But even the wisest of wizards can be outsmarted. Perhaps the school hasn’t been safe lately-”

“But even before that, before Harry began at Hogwarts…” Percy said and swallowed, thinking about his next words. “I began to doubt when I was in my third year. Doubt is a lot like lighting a match, I believe. All you need is one flicker of ignition, a flame is lit and it keeps burning, even after you drop it.”

It was silent, everyone stared at Percy and worst of all, Percy knew his dad must think something awful of him now. 

“Percival.” Dad said, it meant he was serious. “Has something happened that made you doubt Dumbledore?”

Percy looked down. “Cassidy Mercury happened.” He said. "He let her become forgotten."

A loud clank of a fork hitting the plate, probably Charlie who heard the name of a girlfriend he thought was lost. “She did so much for our school, for all of us. Five cursed vaults were opened at Hogwarts, she defeated and sealed all of them. She brought the first Dark Witch from Gryffindor to justice. She was awarded as the hero of Hogwarts. But then she vanishes and she’s just…swept under the carpet. Everyone acts like it never happened, like she never existed. Dumbledore forgot Cassidy Mercury and everything she did. You have, as well! How…how can you just let her be forgotten?! ”

It was nearly silent as in the grave. Fred and George shared a glance, uncomfortable. Ron and Ginny were so confused and had no idea what he was talking about. Charlie refused to look at anyone, stabbing his vegetables. Bill looked down in guilt. Mum looked like she could burst into tears and Dad…Percy didn’t know because he didn’t want to meet his eyes.

“Percy, look at me.” Dad said and he looked nearly griefstrucken. “We have not forgotten Cassidy or what she has done. We just don’t talk about her because it’s still a fresh wound. Cassidy was a brave, kind and headstrong girl and we all loved her. If it’s something that hurts more, then it’s to not know what happened to her afterwards. Losing someone is bad, yes. But to lose someone and not know their fate…my guess is that Dumbledore made it a point to not talk about her because maybe he considers that his failure.”

Percy didn’t say anything.

“But if you really want to know, then you could ask him yourself if you’re unsure.” Dad suggested. “Percy, you are a smart young man and I’m sure you have your reasons to doubt, but don’t let that cloud your judgement.”

“Maybe I will.” Percy said. “She meant a lot to me, Dad. So much. Cassidy was my inspiration, to become prefect and then head boy.”

“Wait a second, it wasn’t because of me or Charlie?” Bill suddenly said. “What is this favouritism?”

“Well, she actually bothered to listen to me, unlike you two.” Percy smirked. “You were busy with the cursed vaults and Charlie was nagging about dragons or Quidditch.”

Chapter Text

After dinner, everyone was preparing to leave for the new place they were to stay at. Sirius Black’s place, in fact. 

The entire affair wasn’t more different than packing for a new school year, Percy thought. It was easy for him. He had pulled out his trunk and prepared everything in detail. He was a person who always made a list of everything he needed to bring and being of age was a perk, since he could use various spells to make the packing easier.

His old Hogwarts trunk had the lid open, so he could place everything in their proper place. Different to his siblings, Percy managed to even make his socks fold neatly. All his clothes and robes were essential, of course. He was bringing all his books, of course. Quills and ink pots. Even his cauldron from school, you never know when you need to brew a potion.

Percy hesitated when he looked at the robes he used to wear, when he worked in the Department of Magical Cooperation. They were light blue and trimmed with gold thread. Mr Crouch was very vocal that all his employees in his office were to look their best all the time, due to the importance of their department.

He had tried so hard, worked himself to the bone because he wanted to show that he was more than just “another Weasley son”. That he was an individual on his own. Now, he only had broken dreams.

“You can bring that, if you want to.”

His father stood there in the door opening with a mild smile. 

“It brings memories.” Percy said. “Remember when I went with you to the Ministry for the first time, to work in the same place?”

“You could barely eat breakfast, you were that excited.” His father said fondly. “I will miss it.”

“Heading to work with you, the way I used to eat lunch in your office and I could just go on and on about what I’ve done for the day.” Percy said nostalgically. “Well. No use to dwell on what-ifs, right?”

“Indeed. But what I’m saying is you can wear those robes whenever you want. It isn’t exactly a uniform and the colour blue has always suited you.”

Percy decided to bring that as well. If he was to meet this enigmatic Mr Black, he wanted to make a good impression. So he wore that over his clothes. 

“Sqourgify.” He cast the spell to clean Hermes’ cage and it was shining clean in a minute. Right on cue, Hermes suddenly flew in from the open window as if he was summoned. 

“Hermes, we’re leaving for a new place now. Kindly settle in your cage?”

Hermes, his beloved owl since he was elected as prefect, complied with ease. Percy adored the owl, even if he hadn’t personally asked for him. When Dad had given him Hermes, Percy had been so surprised and couldn’t stop stammering his thanks. 

Percy favoured cats, to be honest. He liked their independence, the aloof and quirky personality of a cat which often resembled himself. But he could never bring himself to tell that to his parents, so he stuck with Hermes and the owl was somehow, the wisest companion he had since…

He sat down on his bed, sighing heavily when he thought of the rat. Scabbers…well, Peter Pettigrew in fact. But he had known that rat more than half his life. Scabbers had been his friend, his only friend since he found him when he was five. 

He bathed him every morning and evening, fed him with various kinds of cheese and never went anywhere without him. The rat had a liking to settle in either his pocket, on his shoulder or sometimes (much to his mother’s chagrin), his hair. 

Percy made it a habit to talk to his rat about so many things. All his dreams, feelings, ambitions and secrets a young boy could have. And it was so typical that the rat was nothing more than a grown wizard in disguise.

Personally, Percy hoped that dirty rat would get his comeuppance soon. He folded and stuffed his favourite quilt blanket in his trunk, along with the covers and pillow. Now he is finally done. He closed the lid and locked it (a habit since Fred and George found a liking to prank him).

He gently took the cage with Hermes with one hand and turned to his trunk. “Wingardium Leviosa.” He said and the trunk gently rose up in the air, following him as he went downstairs.

Percy made extra sure that no one was in the staircase when he came down. But he did see his younger siblings running around, shouting for each other about a missing sock or what else.

He entered the dining room and placed Hermes’ cage on the table. He set down his trunk with a light wave with his wand. 

“I would’ve nearly guessed you would shrink your trunk and put it in your pocket, to be honest.” Bill remarked. He was already done, as it seems. Not really surprising, he hasn’t been back home for that long. He had always travelled light.

“The thought crossed me, but no need to overdo it.” Percy answered. “The others?”

“Not done yet.” Bill said amused. “George took a sweater from Ginny and she threatened death upon his arse. Ron has misplaced all his socks, somehow. And Mum is shouting at all of them to stop playing around and pack everything now. Not surprising that you’re the first one done.”

“I had practice for the past seven years.” Percy said simply. 

“Nice robes, by the way. Light blue is a good colour on you.” Bill complimented. “Think I’ve seen that one before, though?”

Percy hesitated. “I used to wear these when I worked under Mr Crouch last year. Since we met with many international wizard representatives, we needed to look our best. He was very vocal about that.”

“Ron thought you just bought those for being a prat. His words, not mine.”

“Ron believes a lot of things about me.” Percy sighed. “He doesn’t even have the full picture, but makes up an image of me as a boring, unspecial brother.”

Bill chuckled. “Sounds like he’s taken after a lot from Fred and George. Ginny is heading in that direction as well.” He then looked at Percy, turning seriously. “Are you alright, Perce? You have been a little…out of it since your inquiry.”

“I’m fine.” Percy said stiffly and hoped his brother would just drop it. He wasn’t in the mood to talk about it.

Thankfully, Bill knew when Percy wanted to be left alone.

An hour later, everyone was finally ready to go. Fred, George, Ron and Ginny had their school trunks packed and ready, since it was unlikely they would return to the Burrow before the end of summer. 

Ron’s little owl, Pig, turned out to have gotten into the coffee beans and it was near impossible to get him into the cage. 

“Now, is everyone ready?” Mum asked her children, she was rather tense and irritated for the moment. 

“Yes, mum.” Her children chorused. 

“Good!” She then turned to the pot with Floo Powder. “Now, he’ll expect us one in the time. No crowding!”

“Before we go, however, you will read this note.” Dad told them, holding a piece of pargament in his hand. “One at the time. Once we all have, I will burn it, so make sure you absolutely remember it.”

Bill read it and handed it over to Charlie. Percy got his turn and it went barely a half minute before he had memorised it twice in his head. Then he handed it over for Fred who shared it with George. Ron got his turn, he took a little longer to remember it and then Ginny had her turn. 

Once they were done, Dad set the note on fire. 

“Right, I will Floo to Sirius in advance.” Dad said. “Bill, you and your siblings are going in chronological order. Floo to the address you have memorised.”

Dad went up in emerald green flames and so did Bill and Charlie.

Percy brought the trunk into the fireplace along with Hermes. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder. “Grimmauld Place.” He said clearly and went up into green flames.

The next thing he knew, he stumbled out of a dusty fireplace, coughing his lungs out. He could hear someone drag out his trunk. 

“When did anyone clean that last time?” He gasped between coughs.

“Probably not for a long time.” A foreign, dry voice remarked.

Percy came face to face with Sirius Black. He didn’t look like on all those wanted posters. His hair was long at the shoulders and most importantly, clean. He was dressed sharply as well, with a golden pocket watch chain in the waistcoat and all. 

Sirius Black couldn’t have made a better impression on Percy. 

He quickly remembered where he was and walked away from the fireplace, so Fred (probably the one after him) could use the Floo.

“Good evening, Percy. It’s nice to see you again.” 

Percy was greeted by the sight of his old professor in Defence against the Dark Arts. “Professor Lupin!” He exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. 

“You don’t have to call me “professor” anymore, Percy.” Lupin said mildly. “I haven’t had that position for at least two years now.”

“I must disagree, professor.” Percy insisted. “It’s all thanks to you I could reach an Outstanding in the NEWT class of your subject! I’d say you’re the best teacher I had in Defence Against the Dark Arts!”

Lupin seemed like he wanted to protest. Bill clapped him at the shoulder. 

“My little brother can argue for hours. Days, even. I would give up already now.” He advised the former professor. “And I hope his stories are true, because Percy couldn’t stop talking about your skills and merits in his letters.”

Fred suddenly arrived with the Floo and not a minute late afterwards, George as well. They took one look at the former professor and started to cheer, rushing to him to greet him with great enthusiasm. 

Percy remained at the sideline, not too comfortable with his brothers’ extrovertness. It was nothing against his siblings, their personality was too colourful, loud and dominant. He was just the only odd one out.

“Not too social, are you?” Mr Black suddenly said.

Percy nearly jumped, he hadn’t noticed him nearby while his brothers chatted, laughed and told so many things at once, now that Ron also joined them.

He smiled politely. “I’m sure I won’t be missed.” He told the older wizard. “My siblings are a little…overzealous. Pay no matter to me, I’m a little introvert, that’s all.”

“Indeed?” Sirius Black said. “You remind me of Remus a bit. He was the same when he was your age. Still is.”

Soon enough, Ginny arrived along with his parents and Percy didn’t have time to reflect more on being an introvert or not, since they all needed to get sorted out.

It soon dawned to Percy that the reason why they needed to be quiet in the hallways was because of Sirius’ absolutely crazy and when her portrait was awoken, she started to holler and shriek discriminatory slurs regarding blood status.

They got the picture (literally) when someone was a little too loud and woke up the hag.

Percy, who was taught by his late grandmother to not mind whatever people throw in his face, strode straight past the portrait of Walburga Black and completely ignored her. This caused some more hateful slurs thrown at him.

Sirius Black seemed to find it really hilarious, though.

Percy sat on the edge of a bed, inside a bedroom that had far too much green for his liking.

They were all staying in different rooms. Ginny had a room on the bottom floor, she was going to share it with Hermione when she arrived in a couple of days. Ron had a room on the second floor (he was going to share it with Harry, whenever he would come) and the twins slept in a bedroom on the third floor. 

His parents also had a room on the same floor, so he couldn’t imagine they’d get away with much, considering his mother’s excellent hearing.

Percy was going to stay in a bedroom on the fourth floor, which belonged to one “R.A.B”. Sirius stayed in the other bedroom on this floor. 

Percy had no idea why he was assigned to this room, but he wasn’t complaining. Apart from the dour and ridiculously green interior, it seemed like this room used to belong to a young man who could be quite the scholar. 

The big bookshelf was filled to the brim with various books, Percy longed to read them and if it wasn’t for Sirius warning him that they may be cursed, he might have indulged himself to some more reading. 

And the first one that went away from the walls was all the newspaper clippings of Voldemort. Sirius wanted to burn them, but Percy convinced them to not because they may have vital information. 

The wardrobe was very empty, only collecting a thin layer of dust. Percy wasted no time in cleaning the wardrobe and settling in his clothes. He was quickly making himself at home, since he had no idea if he would return to the Burrow anytime soon.

He sighed and crawled in bed, setting his alarm clock so he would wake up early for his interview with Mr Bouchard. He took off his glasses, folded them gently and put them at the nightstand before he lied down. 

Percy closed his eyes and let himself fall into the abyss of sleep.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Percy woke by the ringing sound of his alarm clock. He reached out and shut it off by pure habit. He didn’t sit up yet, just stared up at the ceiling of an unfamiliar four poster bed and vaguely wondered where he was.

It took a slight moment for him to recall the events of the previous day. Him being sacked for turning down Fudge’s offer, his mindless wandering around London that led him to the Magnus Institute, meeting Mr. Bouchard, Sirius Black is apparently innocent, his rat is Peter Pettigrew and they were at Grimmauld Place for the summer.

Too many things in one single day.

No wonder he was out as a light before it was even ten last evening.

Percy sat up and put on his horn-rimmed glasses. Oh, right. He was in a fancy bedroom that belonged to some R.A.B, he looked over towards the window and saw Hermes sleeping in his cage (he had left the cage door open, just in case). 

Now, Percy was a person who had his routines on a strict schedule. Not because he liked rules (he liked them a normal amount), but it was easy for him to let his mind wander and get distracted from his tasks. 

So the bathroom was the first stop. Use the toilet, shower and wash his hair. Then he dressed in the appropriate clothes (Muggle attire, of course) for his interview. A linen shirt, his favourite maroon sweater vest (maroon has always been his favourite colour, contrary to Ron), a pair of tan trousers and black dress shoes. 

Along with a nice tweed jacket with elbow patches. 

He couldn’t decide if he should have a tie or bowtie, but he figured he could ask his father for some advice.

Percy checked himself out in the bedroom mirror, which showed his full figure. Yes, he looked presentable and in an academia style. He took his favourite comb and brushed his hair. He was vaguely tempted to use the usual hair products to make his hair become more straight, but he decided to let it be.

Without the hair products, Percy had lovely curls in his hair. A trait from his mother’s side, obviously. Otherwise, he looked very like his father with his pointy nose, blue eyes, fiery red hair colour and a constellation of freckles. 

Percy left the bedroom and closed the door. He walked downstairs carefully, cautious to not make a sound (and he wasn’t in the mood for that horrible hag in the portrait, hollering at this hour).

They must’ve put silencing spells at the door of the dining room, since a different story was brewing. It was loud and chaotic at most. Percy expected as much since he had grown up with six loud, extrovert and chaotic siblings.

“Ron, that was my bread roll!”

“I didn’t see your name on it!”

“Hey, Gred! Pass the butter!”

“Fred, George! Don’t throw food! ”

Percy entered the dining room and saw the long table in a state of chaos. His four younger siblings talked over each other and bickered about breakfast food, which existed in plenty on the serving plates. Mr Sirus Black didn’t do anything to stop the mayhem either. 

In fact, he seemed to find it utterly hilarious. Much to his mother’s chagrin.

This made him nearly miss the always messy Gryffindor table at Hogwarts and that's saying something. 

His mother finally noticed his presence. “Oh, good morning, Percy.” She greeted him fondly. “Ready for your interview?”

“Yes, quite so.” Percy said politely. “I see nothing changed at breakfast.”

His mother muttered something under her breath. “You would think being around Bill would make them behave more. And Sirius does nothing but encourage them!”

“It’s food, Mum. They’re always going to be possessive of food.” Percy said amused and sat down by the table. “Do you want any help?”

“Oh no, but thank you, dear.” His mother said fondly before she went to scold the twins for another food-related prank.

For once, Percy didn’t pay any attention to his siblings at the breakfast table, whether it was about pranking, bickering or table manners. His mind wandered towards the Magnus Institute and the enigmatic Mr Bouchard. 

He wondered what kind of questions would be asked to him, was he qualified enough for a Muggle archive and what if he didn’t get the job? Percy began to have second thoughts, his anxiety levels rose higher than when he studied for his NEWT exams.

And if he didn’t get the job, then it would only prove he’s hit a new level worthless since he got fired from his Ministry job and if he got denied a job in the muggle world, then who could ever take him seriously again?

He felt nearly physically ill at the thought.

“Hey, Perce? I think you have plenty of tea now.”

Percy jerked from his daydreams and yelped when something hot touched his hand. He hadn’t even noticed that he had kept pouring hot water in his teacup and it was overflowing, letting hot water run down the table and onto his lap.

“Curses…” He muttered annoyed and waved with his wand, casting a non-verbal Evanesco and the hot water vanished. “I’m really sorry about it, I let my mind wander too much…” He said embarrassed.

“Nervous?” His father asked.

“Obviously.” Percy retorted. “If this fails, then I don’t know what to do with myself. Probably throw myself in the Thames.”

“You’re not going to do that, Percy.” His father said, surprisingly calm about it and drank his coffee. “You can’t swim and you would sink like a stone.”

Percy sighed. “You are right, I wouldn’t do that.” 

“If it helps, I believe you will go great, Perce.” Bill remarked and helped himself to a cup of coffee (it seems like Bill had gotten used to coffee in Egypt rather than tea). “You’ve always been organised and you like order. And books. You’ll probably feel right at home at the archives.”

“Just don’t nag about your boss all over again.” Fred started and grinned.

“We can’t take anymore one-sided boss/employee romance.” George finished.

Percy glared at them. “What the…no, no! That was absolutely not what happened when I worked for Mr Crouch!”

“You sure acted like it!” Ron pointed it out. “If we never knew you dated a girl, we would’ve thought you were gay!”

“Well, I was pretty happy for working under Mr Crouch-”

“Gay as in the orientation, Percy. Not the synonym for “happy”.” Mr Weasley remarked as he kept reading the newspaper.

Percy scoffed and spread orange marmalade on his toast. “And that is none of your business.” He shot back at his younger brothers. “Stay out of my love life, like you should. You hardly see me obsessing over Bill’s lovelife.”

“You know why you are so stiff and stuck-up?” Fred asked with a mischievous grin. “You need to get laid!”

“Fredrick!” His mother snapped. “Quit that vulgar talk! That is nothing for your younger siblings to hear!”

Mr Weasley finally put down the newspaper. “Boys, that is enough.” He said patiently. “Percy’s private life is his own, alone. Without any prying eyes. Surely you can respect that. You wouldn’t like him to know all your private thoughts and inner secrets, would you?”

“You mean he doesn’t already know everything?” Ginny grinned.

“I regret my life so much…” Percy scowled. “Ron, when is Hermione coming?”

“I dunno, why do you ask?” Ron said, confused over the change of subject.

“Because I need someone sensible to talk to.” 

After he had his breakfast, Percy walked quietly in the hallway and found a tall mirror, where he checked himself out. Just to make sure he looked presentable and academic enough for his interview with Mr Bouchard. 

He didn’t know what standards the Muggles had in their job interviews, but he wanted to look his absolutely best and make a good first impression. 

‘Gracious, barely 19 year old and I’m having an interview for an archive job. I feel like such a fraud, sometimes…’ He thought to himself.

“Looking sharp.” A voice said behind him.

Percy looked to his left, it was Sirius Black. “I have a job interview in an hour, at a Muggle institute. It’s very academic, so I need to impress.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “I thought Muggle jobs had more demands for qualifications?” He said. Upon seeing Percy’s questioning expression, he added. “Got an Outstanding in Muggle Studies.”

“Ah.” Percy said. “So are you saying that magical job interviews are more slack on qualifications than Muggles?”

“Not saying, I’m telling you.” Sirius answered. “Remus has often taken jobs in the Muggle world, so I’m aware of how it works. It’s a little odd that your institute is offering a job to an eighteen year old. That’s when Muggles become of age.”

“Yes…” Percy said slowly. “I suppose so. But since I got fired from the Ministry, I think this is my best shot so far. I can’t remain at home with nothing to do, I hate being idle.”

“How about enjoying life while you’re young?” Sirius suggested. “Go out, explore the world, meet with friends out in town, have some hobbies. Get a girlfriend. Things like that.”

“Well, the world isn’t exactly safe to explore now, is it? With a psychotic lunatic like Voldemort and his little insane minions.” Percy remarked dryly. “I don’t have many friends, I annoy people apparently and I never had time for hobbies. As for my love life, it’s non-existent and private.”

Sirius laughed a little. “You have an answer to everything, it seems like.” He said amused.

It took at least fifteen minutes to say goodbye to his family and Percy, even though he loved them just the way they were, found this incredibly overbearing.

“Remember the Statue of Secrecy, Percy!” Mrs Weasley told her third son for probably the sixth time. “No magic around the muggles-”

“Yes, mother.” Percy said patiently. “I know the rules. No magic around Muggles.”

“Dearest, Percy knows the Statue of Secrecy.” Mr Weasley said. “But even if you get the job-”

“You don’t think I can manage?” Percy narrowed his eyes.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You thought so.”

Mr Weasley sighed frustrated. “What I’m trying to say is that even if Mr Bouchard seems like the ideal employer, don’t trust him too much.”

“But he’s a Muggle, what can he do?” Ron protested. “Bore Percy to death?”

“Just because he’s a Muggle, Ron, it doesn’t mean that he can’t be dangerous.” Mr Weasley pointed out. “Muggles are capable of harming each other, just as us. They just have different ways.”

“How about I promise to play it safe, then?” Percy suggested. “I hardly see how filing documents is going to threat my life.”

“The point is to not trust him like Crouch, Percy.” Bill quickly said. “You know what Crouch did, he sent Sirius to Azkaban without trial.”

“Yes, I know. But I don’t believe Mr Bouchard can be any worse than Crouch. ”

“Either way, keep your eyes open.” Mr Weasley advised. “It’s dangerous times we’re living in now.”

Percy smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll be safe. Anything else?”

Fred and George grinned. “Just the usual…” Fred began.

“Keep your back straight-”

“And eyes forward-”

“Don’t stammer-”

“Be honest and confident-”

“Answer all the questions-

“And you’ll be fine!” They ended together.

Percy blinked. “That…is surprisingly good advice from you two. I nearly expected something weird-”

“And if he doesn’t hire you, throw a stinkbomb in his face!” The twins added in union with wicked grins.

“And there it is.” Percy sighed. “Anyways, I need to go now. I see all of you later. Wish me luck.” He said and turned to the door, opening it and stepped out, walking his way to the Magnus Institute.

“Name, please?”

“Percival Weasley.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes, an interview at 10 o’clock.”

Rosie, the assistant at the reception he had met yesterday, nodded while her fingers made that clicky noise and a few clicks. “We just installed the latest model of Windows ‘95, so it had taken a while to install.” She spoke up.

Percy was familiar with computers, it was one Muggle invention he was fond of because a machine that can contain all the world’s information on? That was an amazing invention.

“Ah, there you are! Percival Weasley, 10 o’clock for the open position of archivist.” Rosie smiled and turned to him. She pushed a button on a small, rectangular machine. “Mr, Bouchard, your 10 o’clock appointment is here.”

A bzzt noise. “Please send him in, Rosie.”

“Mr Bouchard will be with you shortly.” Rosie told Percy. “Go upstairs to the third floor and head to the second door to the left.”

“Thank you.” Percy said politely and went on his way, he reached one of the staircases and started to walk upstairs. The signs told him which floor he was on and he was going to the top, where Mr Bouchard had his office. 

The stairs never made him exhausted, he had lots of practice during his seven years at Hogwarts. 

Percy reached the top floor and turned left, looking for the second door. He found it rather quickly, it was a tall door in dark brown wood and with a gold plaque that read;

ELIAS BOUCHARD
HEAD OF THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE
VIGLIO, AUDIO, OPPERIOR

‘Viglio, audio, opperior? Doesn't that mean “I watch, I hear, I wait”? Such an odd choice of motto.’ Percy thought to himself, but he soon didn’t get time to ponder over it as his voice talked from behind the closed door, in the same moment he raised a fist to knock.

“No need to knock, Mr Weasley. Please enter.”

‘How…did he know I was behind the door, exactly at this moment?’ Percy wondered, but he opened the door and stepped inside

There was Mr Bouchard, dressed in another hard-pressed business suit and this time, it was in a shade that bordered on green and black. The trims were in gold, just as the strange, single earring that hung in his left ear and it was in the shape of an open eye.

Well, he had seen stranger attire in the magical community, so it didn’t phase Percy much. The headmaster at Hogwarts did have a habit to walk in purple or pink robes whenever he wanted.

“Ah, Mr Weasley. Welcome.” Mr Bouchard said and stood up. He gestured towards the pulled out chair in front of the desk. “Please have a seat.”

Percy closed the door behind himself and walked up to Mr Bouchard’s desk, shaking his hand before he sat down, directly facing him. 

The office was large and magnificent with dark green wallpaper and wooden panelling. Large bookshelves filled to the brim with books and various knick-knacks, one of them was a human skull in strangely accurate detail.

Percy recalled that there were painted portraits of previous Heads of the Institute on the walls outside the office, but there was one particular portrait hung above Mr Bouchard’s desk. It appeared to be the founder of the Institute, Jonah Magnus himself.

It was a handsome, young man in the 19th century with small, round glasses, dressed in a dark green tailcoat and with a pinned eye decoration on his cravat. He had auburn hair in neat curls and golden green eyes that stared down at him.

And for some reason…it felt as if Jonah Magnus himself was looking at him.

“Admiring the founder of our esteemed institute?” Mr Bouchard offered with a calm yet knowing smile. Percy found himself unable to properly answer and meekly nodded. “Jonah Magnus originally founded the institute in Edinburgh in 1818, however he later moved his institute to this precise location.”

Percy had never before seen someone with such striking eyes, looking at him and Percy felt noticed, that he was seen in the eyes of the founder. No matter how long he’s been dead.

“Now, shall we begin our interview?”

“Ah yes, excuse me.” Percy quickly realised it and blushed, embarrassed.

Mr Bouchard moved a couple of papers aside on his desk. “Now, Mr Weasley. As we spoke yesterday, I found that you are interested in joining our team here at the Magnus Institute.”

“Yes, the archival position that opened up.”

“Very well.” Mr Bouchard spoke. “Now, I would usually look into qualifications for a possible archivist. However, I have had bad luck with the recent archivists in the past, so I hire new employees in a different way than you’re probably used of.”

“I understand, sir.”

Mr Bouchard smiled. “Oh, there is no need for formalities here, I’d like to keep this interview casual. Imagine it as a conversation between friends.”

“Right, sir.” Percy spoke quickly and then realised his mistake. “Ah…Elias.”

“Good, good. You catch on rather quickly, Percival. May I call you Percival?”

“Everyone calls me Percy.”

Elias smiled. “Very well, Percy. Now do tell me… what are you most afraid of? ”

Percy froze. “I’m…sorry?”

“What are you most afraid of?”

That was an odd question. Not strange, but odd. Percy couldn’t see what fear has to do with a job here. Or perhaps it was relevant, there was still so much in the Muggle world he didn’t understand and he figured that maybe this place didn’t hire someone who’d faint right away at the sight of a spider.

But…what was he afraid of?

“Judgement.” Percy answered. “I’m afraid of eyes that keep staring at me, as soon as I make a mistake. It’s the judgement I fear.”

“I see.” Elias spoke. “Scopophobia isn’t as common as arachnophobia, but it’s still a relevant fear. Is it judgement in common you fear or any specific kind, such as from friends or family?”

Percy swallowed. “Family…” He whispered, but it was loud enough. The words rose in his throat, he felt a strong desire to tell Elias more and he needed to get this out of his chest. He needed to let Elias know.

“Oh? Do elaborate?”

Percy took a deep breath and that was all he needed to let the words out. “I was encouraged to become the perfect son without any flaws at an early age and the thought of doing one wrong step, one simple mistake, terrifies me because it will break the illusion. I fear that everyone’s eyes will be on me when I make a mistake, out in the spotlight for everyone to see and I will feel them judging me.” He continued, finding himself unable to stop. “I’ve been subjected to public ridicule, as my younger brothers liked to pull extravagant pranks on me as their favourite victim and each time, I have felt exposed in front of hundreds of eyes.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“I felt…watched, known but in the way I want.” Percy’s voice trembled slightly. “I have never liked looking someone directly in the eye for far too long, the idea of feeling someone’s stare at me feels uncomfortable, as if they expect to see something they want from me. It makes me feel stripped down and then, the mere thought that my family has me pegged as perfect and if they see that I’m nothing like how they imagined me as, I fear they will throw me away as soon as I'm not perfect.”

He was done. The words were finally done and Percy was breathing heavily, he felt strangely flushed as if he had been running a mile. 

“Interesting. Very intriguing, Percy.” Elias spoke in a smooth voice. 

Percy felt…overwhelmed and he clenched his teeth to avoid feeling sick and empty his stomach. 

“Now when, shall we continue? Or do you need some tea?” Elias offered him.

“No, no. I’m good.” Percy said quickly. He recovered in no time and it felt a little…odd.

“Very well. Now then, have you ever had an experience that you would consider supernatural?”

Does the existence of magic even count here, Percy thought to himself. But no, he can’t say that since it would lead to the exposure of his world and that would break the Statue of Secrecy. But what could count as supernatural-

Oh. There was one.

“Yes, when I was fourteen, going on fifteen.” Percy confessed. “There was..ah, a series of strange events in my school, it had to do with cursed rooms they called as vaults.”

Cassidy. The vault. The weird, horrifying things he saw…

“My older brother’s girlfriend then, was involved with these vaults on a personal level and fought with these vaults, trying to prevent terrible things from happening. You could compare the vaults to the tale of Pandora’s box.In her seven years at the school, she made it her life mission to seal the vaults so no more innocent students would come to harm.”

Elias held up a hand. “For clarification, this is a bordering school, I assume?”

“Why yes. We start as eleven or twelve year old and attend school until we’re seventeen or eighteen.”

Elias nodded. “I see. Please continue.”

“As I was saying. At the end of my fourth year at my school, and she was in her seventh and last year, we found one hidden, unknown vault and decided to seal it up for good. We did it in all secrecy, in the middle of night. It was after our end of term feast, so to say, and she had technically graduated. But I couldn’t imagine what we could encounter.”

Percy hesitated.

“By all means, keep going.”

“It was going according to the plan, in the start. As we were sealing up the vault, I was standing too close to the vault’s opening and there was this strange sound. It-it was the strangest thing, it was almost as if there was an entirely different world on the other side of the vault and I could see the wind howling, a distant thunder and music…it sounded like it was from steam pipes, but it was so melodic and enticing that I lost my focus for a second.

And the next thing I could, a long, black vine had gotten through the gate of the vaults and wrapped around my ankle. As I was being dragged towards the vault, I could hear the unsettling sound of something growling. Not growling like a dog or a wolf, it sounded louder, more menacing and more…distorted. And I know that I’m not crazy and it sounds weird, but it sounded like…it was growling my name. I kept flailing, screaming and digging my fingers into the ground to get a grip of anything. My hands caught the edge of the vault door, it was like having a tug of war and I had so much fear in me. 

I-I think I cried out for my dad, back then. 

My left hand slipped and something else caught it. I saw Cassidy in front of me, her hand was wrapped around my wrist in a tight grip and then she did something I couldn’t have predicted. 

Cassidy switched places with me. She gave up her own life, for my sake. Our places were exchanged and instead, it was me holding onto her wrist. I held on for so long, but she…I swear, she let go. In those moments, filled with so much panic, mortal danger and fear, she told me that she would be fine and I needed to save myself. She told me that…as long as I know the truth, then I can bring her back. She made me promise to find her and…then she let go. She threw her journal to me along with her…well, another important possession that is important for her.”

Percy swallowed, his hands shaking. “I’ve never forgotten what happened that night. The last time I ever saw her before she was dragged into the…Other Side. I don’t know how to open that vault. It-it was the first time I ever experienced something so supernatural that had no reasonable explanation. It nearly felt…Lovecraftian, in nature. ANd those vines…they were vines, of the plant kind but they seemed so alive and sentient as tentacles. And that’s it, that’s my supernatural experience. I have never told anyone of this. Not my brothers, not my parents, not a teacher. No one knows this except for me.”

“That is a highly fascinating experience, Percy.” Elias spoke, he was resting his chin onto the intertwined fingers and he had his elbows propped onto the desk surface. His golden green eyes seemed to nearly glow, but Percy thought it was just his mind, the sunlight from the window played tricks on him.

“Now tell me,” Elias continued and noted down something on his notepad. “Why do you want this job?”

Percy kept his composure, but he was sighing with relief on the inside. Finally a question that he was prepared for. “Well, I know I can do good work in the academic sense and I live for knowledge, archived or new. I’m very ambitious, punctual, organised and dedicated to my goals. I have no difficulty in following the rules and I’m prepared to aim higher, careerwise.”

“Excellent.” Elias nodded and added more personal notes. “You have family, as you said before. Any significant others?”

“Ah yes, my parents and six siblings. Two older and four younger.” Percy replied. “I have no significant other for now.”

“My, seven children? That isn’t exactly common, is it?”

“Not really, it’s very rare in the community I live in.

“I suppose it would be easy to become forgotten in such a large family.” Elias mused.

That statement caught him off guard. “Yes…I suppose.” Percy confessed. “I happen to fall back in the background, most of the time…my six siblings are very extroverted and I’m a little…odd.” The information was pulled out of him, despite Percy’ desire to keep his personal feelings to a minimum.

“Now…tell me why you are here.”

Percy felt as if he couldn’t breathe.

Why was he here?

“I…don’t know.”

“Were you drawn here?”

Percy swallowed. “Y-yes.”

“Against you will?”

Percy knew the answer before his brain could even think of it. “No.” But my legs knew the way, somehow.

“Then why did you heed the call?”

The answer was inside him; brutally honest, raw and true. “Because…this is the place I should be. I know I should be here.”

“Good.” Elias spoke. “The job is yours.” He added in a more cheerful note.

Huh?  

Percy slowly came back to himself, although very shaken for no reason. His hands had stopped trembling. He tried to smile. “Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Elias.” His new employer said. “Now, Percy. We will be working closely here, as employer and employee.”

The contract was brought up from a drawer. Percy wasted no time in skim reading the terms and conditions on his employment contract and wrote his full name on the line at the bottom.

Percival Ignatius Weasley

He handed it to Elias, who took it and stamped it green with approval. He extended his hand for Percy, who shook it eagerly. 

“Welcome to the Magnus Institute, Archivist.”

Chapter Text

Percy walked back to Grimmauld Place in a daze, still in shock over the events.

He had a job again…but not just any job. He was the Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute now. He felt like he could run up to Big Ben and sing from the top of his lungs, he felt so elated from the joy and relief. 

Besides, it was a good thing if he took a break from the magical community for a while. The past few months have been hell, if not frustrating and anxiety-inducing. Percy hadn’t slept for days since Mr Crouch had appeared at Hogwarts and then vanished, only for Harry to reveal that he was dead, later on. 

Percy was in a very chipper mood, walking briskly back to his “home” (although Grimmauld Place was just a temporary home for now, nothing could ever replace the Burrow). He had a folder of documents tucked under his arm, given to him from Mr Bouchard.

“This folder contains a number of employee files. I have hand-picked some suggestions for archival assistants for you, as the Head Archivist. I would recommend that you pick three assistants to get the job done.” Elias said as he handed over a manila folder for Percy. “Although, if I may?”

“Yes, please?” Percy replied.

“I would advise you to choose a deputy archivist. Just in case you would be unavailable, due to illness or family emergencies. In such way, I can simply ask them to take over for the day when you can’t.”

“Yes, that sounds very reasonable. A backup plan, I assume?”

“Yes, I suppose you could call it that.” Elias smirked.

As soon as he returned to Grimmauld Place, Percy planned to open the folder and take a good look at the employee files, so he could decide his own archival staff.

To his surprise, Percy realised that he had already returned. He must’ve been in a very cheerful mood if his walk back to Grimmauld Place had barely taken any time at all. He was careful to not ring on the doorbell (he didn’t need that horrible painting with the hag to yell again) and opened the door, which was unlocked only for those who knew of the location.

The wonders of the Fidelius Charm, no doubt.

He closed the door carefully behind himself and decided to enter the dining room. And proceed to jump as if he was hit by a small shock of electricity. 

Huh…it seems as if the Order is having a meeting. ‘I suppose I just head straight up for my room, then.’ He thought to himself and started to head upstairs. 

On the second staircase, he saw Fred, George, Ron and Ginny hauling down something that looked like a skin-colored string. The former Head Boy stared at his younger siblings, who started right back at him.

“Do I want to know?” Percy asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Nope.” Fred and George said in union.

“Then I’m not going to say anything. I didn’t see anything here.” Percy said stiffly and continued upstairs. He reached the top floor and went to the door with the R.A.B sign, going inside and closing the door.

He mentally thanked himself for cleaning the desk, as one of his priorities last night, and sat down comfortably, starting to open the manila folder.

For the next hour, Percy went through various employees of the Magnus Institute to determine who would be joining his archival team.

Mr Bouchard had marked one employee file with a light green sticky note with the words “Recommendation from the Head of Institute; consider him as deputy archivist” . And Percy, while he attempted to not focus too much on the cursive penmanship from his new boss, looked over the file of one Jonathan Sims.

Muggle photos were still and unmoving, but they were at least in colour. Jonathan Sims, as the small photograph pictured, was a young, dark-skinned man with black hair (although his temples seemed to greyen), green eyes, square glasses and sporting a dark green sweater vest and white dress shirt beneath. 

Jonathan Sims, originally from Bournemouth. A research assistant at the Research Floor. Joined the Institute last year. Majored in English Literature and graduated with honours from Oxford University, London. 

And he is twenty-two years old, as of this year.

‘Hm…he’s older than me.’ Percy thought to himself. He had thought that Mr Bouchard was a little odd for hiring him as Head Archivist and he was nineteen (well, almost). But he supposed that perhaps Mr Bouchard wanted to give the younger generation a chance, to see if they could be capable to take on a work that would tire out the most experienced employee.

That was a little ambitious, Percy concluded. But he honestly thought that this Jonathan Sims would make a good secondary archivist. His work was thorough, he was disciplined, dedicated and worked hard for his goals. Percy recognised a lot from himself in Jonathan Sims.

Therefore, he accepted him as deputy archivist and noted it down.

Next, he went through another two employee files. But he didn’t feel as if he could get anything from them. One was from Artefact Storage, with no experience in archiving. Another was from Finance, that was a no as well. Next, he came to one Timothy Stoker.

Timothy Stoker, in the picture, was a fair-skinned man with a black undercut, but with thick hair on top in a very vivid purple colour. He had warm, brown eyes and a wide, charming grin. Percy ignored the strange feeling of his stomach making a flip.

Let’s see…Timothy Stoker, aged twenty-four. Graduated from Trinity College with a First in Anthropology. Currently a research assistant at the Magnus Institute. Percy thought that Timothy Stoker sounded promising, despite the fact that he was dressed in a garish Hawaiian shirt.

So he wrote down his name onto the list of archival assistants. 

The next one was also from the Research floor, one Sasha James. A twenty-five year old woman with dark skin, round glasses, brown eyes and very thick, curly dark hair tied up in a yellow ribbon. She was dressed very professionally.

Her background seemed to be what he was looking for, as well. Graduated from another fine university and joined the institute as a practical researcher. Worked for six months in the Artefact Storage, but then transferred to the Research floor. 

Sasha James joined Timothy Stoker and Jonathan Sims on the list. 

And lastly, he came to one file and Percy took a double-take on this one. The photo, which was slightly stained by a teamug, showed a young, chubby man with a round face with freckles, messy ginger hair and soft brown eyes. He was wearing a knitter jumper and had a shy smile.

Martin K. Blackwood, a library assistant from the Library. 

Now this…this was very good news. In order to maintain an archive, you need an organising system and a librarian would be familiar with an organising system. And as much as Percy hated to judge on the appearances, he thought that this Martin looked like someone he could rely on.

And he was done. He had this assembled team now. Percy looked proudly at his list of his new archival staff.

Jonathan Sims, deputy archivist. Timothy Stoker, Sasha James and Martin Blackwood, archival assistants.

It suddenly knocked on his door and the door opened before he could answer. “Hey, Perce.” Bill greeted him. “The twins just said that you got home from your job interview. Why didn’t you come to the dining room?”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “I did try, but I suppose the wards kept me away from the Order’s meeting.”

“Ah yes, of course.” Bill rubbed his neck and sat down at the end of the bed. “So, how did it go?”

“I got the job.” Percy smiled.

His oldest brother broke into a proud grin. “Great job, Percy! I knew you could do it. I can’t imagine anyone not hiring you.”

“Well…the Ministry did fire me.”

“And the Ministry is arseholes.” Bill countered and crossed his arms. “Percy…nothing was your fault. We all agree on that. You couldn’t have known.”

“But I should’ve known, that was what I kept hearing. However, that doesn’t matter since it appears that Mr Bouchard thinks I’m the best person for the job.” Percy kept going. 

Bill rose up and looked around the bedroom. “Well, that is kind of what concerns me…”

Percy looked at him and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s not that I think ill of your new boss, Percy. He’s just…you know, a little odd. He just meets you on the same day you got fired from the Ministry, offers you a job and now, has hired you. And you have only known him for a day.”

“And?”

Bill sighed frustrated. “Percy, you can be smarter than me, Charlie, the twins, Ron and Ginny combined. But you have to admit that you are a little dense.”

“Dense?!”

“Ah crap, I don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s endearing sometimes. But after your recent boss figures…I just want you to keep an eye open, so you won't get into another bad situation. These past couple of months haven't been kind to you.”

Percy was very touched by the fact that Bill looked after him, especially after the whole Crouch incident. He had thought that no one had even cared about his feelings regarding the whole mess, but here was his oldest brother, looking after him as if nothing had changed since their time at school together. 

“Well…thank you.” Percy replied softly. “But I think I can take care of myself now. It’s a muggle institute, so I don’t think it will involve a lot of power plays like in the Ministry.”

Bill nodded, he looked a little calmer at that. “It’s not very political, I guess.” He remarked and gave a Slytherin banner on the wall a critical look. “You said it’s a place for scholars and researchers, right?”

“That is correct.” Percy answered and didn’t hold back a fond smile as he thought about the magnificent institute that was his workplace now. “Sometimes, I feel as if I’m dreaming and when I wake up, I shall be so horrified at working at the Ministry and grieve the dream I’m living right now.”

Bill laughed a little. “It really suits you, Percy. Working with books, information and ancient documents to preserve. I always wondered what would’ve happened if you didn’t choose the Ministry from the start.”

And Bill had unknowingly struck right at Percy’s “Achilles' heel” so to say. He nearly winced physically at that comment. And the motion hadn’t gone unnoticed by the Cursebreaker. Before he could ask about that, Percy gave an explanation. 

“That was all I could hear about since I was little.” He began and looked at the open wardrobe, at his old Ministry robe. “Ever since that day Dad took me to the Ministry to see his work and I had said that I wanted to be like him, Mum has always talked about me joining the Ministry.”

“People change, Perce. We grow up. You were seven when you said so, I remember that. It’s kind of unfair that you stick with a career path you chose when you were little. I said I wanted to be a wizard rock singer when I was a kid, but here I am, a Cursebreaker at Gringotts.”

“I suppose.” Percy admitted. “I…I just didn’t want to disappoint Mum. Or Dad. He seemed so happy when I started at the Ministry.”

“Percy, I think Dad would be more happy if he knew that you worked with something that made you happy. He wouldn’t want you to become miserable.”

He knew Bill was right. But he had also worked hard his entire life so far, just to make his family proud of him. He had just kept aiming higher, so he could give the family everything they needed and wanted. 

But he had never considered what he wished to do, though. 

This was actually the first time Percy ever did something for himself. And not for the first time, Bill was right. 

The archives…were worse off than Percy had thought.

He followed Rosie, Mr Bouchard’s assistant, downstairs to the basement where the archives were located (apparently, the lift was broken) and he walked straight into a dimly lit area with a flickering ceiling lamp, tall shelves filled with cardboard boxes overflowing with papers and Merlin, so much misfiled documents everywhere on the floor, the shelves, on the abandoned desks - everywhere.  

Cobwebs in the corners (Percy made a mental note to not ask Ron to see his new work until this place was clean here) and there was so much dust in the air. 

It was horrible. Percy knew Mr Bouchard told him that the archives had been left in disarray, but not in such a grievous state. 

Rosie showed him to a door with a window (it had drapes) and she opened the door for him. His new office. The office was actually cleaner than the rest of the department. He saw a spacious desk with a desk chair (the kind that spins around) and a green glass lamp with cord.

“So…this is your office!” Rosie told him, chipper and polite.

Percy looked around and wished he was impressed with it, like with the rest of the institute. “Thank you, Rosie. I was under the impression that Mr Bouchard was going to show me-”

“Oh, Mr Bouchard is busy right now.” Rosie answered. “But he said that he’ll be down shortly to go over your duties, etcetera.”

Percy nodded. “I understand, there is no hurry. I suppose the primary goal for now is to get this place cleaned up.”

“You are the head archivist now, it’s your call.” Rosie said cheerfully. “Your archival team will be here soon, though.  And suppose I should be getting on, I’m sure that Mr. Bouchard will be with you shortly.”

Percy nodded. “Thank you for your time, Rosie.” He waved her off as she left and Percy was left alone. 

He walked behind the desk and sat down on the chair. It was actually quite comfortable, as long as you didn’t sit here all day or fell asleep at the desk. He took a look at the big, white square-ish computer machine (yes, he knew what a computer was and he didn’t got an Outstanding in Muggle Studies for nothing).

Well, he’ll tackle that sooner or later…

Percy drew his wand and made a quick, non-verbal spell to check of the coast was clear. The archives were empty except for him. And with the door closed…

He decided to clean up this office a little. The young wizard knew it was kind of an unfair advantage, but he couldn’t possibly know where to begin cleaning without a handful of useful charms and spells (he silently thanked his mother for teaching him those). 

Percy walked around, holding his wand steady as layers of dust were being sent to the garbage bin, paper documents floated to his desk in a neat pile, the flooring was being scrubbed so he could actually see the wood, the small basement window became shining clean and at last, the ceiling lamp was. 

Now, his office is properly clean. Percy checked his clock (the one he had gotten on his seventeenth birthday), only thirty minutes had passed during his cleaning frenzy. He tucked away his wand safely and smoothed down his maroon sweater vest.

As if on cue…

It knocked on the door. Three short, hard knocks. “Please enter.” Percy called out and the door opened, revealing a short young man with black hair (although greying on the temples), it was Jonathan Sims and he was carrying on a cardboard box with belongings from his former desk, he supposed.

“Ah. You must be Percival Weasley, the new Head Archivist who transferred me to this…place.” He sounded dismissive and stiff at best. “My name is Jonathan Sims.”

‘Dear me, is that what I sound like to my siblings?’ Percy thought and internally cringed. No wonder they made fun of him, then. “Yes, I am. Welcome to the team, Mr Sims.”

“Pleasure.” Jon said. “I was recently promoted to Deputy Archivist, along with the transfer.”

“Yes, indeed.” Percy answered. “I merely followed a recommendation from Mr Bouchard, he thought that I could need a second in command, in case I’d be tied up with other business.”

Jon put his box down on the floor and narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry, but…how old are you? You don’t really look what I…expected.”

“I’m nineteen.”

Jon glared. “Elias hired a nineteen year old, as Head Archivist, to tidy up these archives…despite both Sasha and myself being interested in the position.”

This…was awkward. Percy swallowed and felt his ears burn with embarrassment. He hadn’t even considered that someone else might’ve applied for the position. “Well, I wasn’t aware of that fact when I was hired.” Percy countered, with his best Head Boy voice. “And I have chosen you as my secondary archivist, because I believe you have good qualifications that can be of use in these archives.”

Jon stared at him in surprise, he had probably not expected a nineteen year old to reprimand him and in all fairness, Percy doesn’t accept anyone to act like they’re better than him. 

“I see.” Jon’s demeanour seemed to soften up a little, but he was still acting stiff. “Well…thank you, for choosing me as your secondary archivist.”

“Anytime.” Percy smiled. “I really hope to make good acquaintances with you, Mr Sims.”

“You…ah, you can call me Jon. Mr Sims makes me feel as if I’m in…trouble.” Jon said awkwardly.

“Then you may call me Percy. Everyone does.” Percy told him and offered his hand to shake.

“Percy.”

“Jon.”

“Um, twenty two…”

Percy stared. “I’m…I’m sorry?”

“I’m…twenty two.” Jon admitted slowly. “Not that much older than you.”

“I see. Then we have a lot in common.” Percy said. “Well, I need to go find Mr Bouchard because I don’t really know how that computer works.”

“Why would you need Elias to help with the computer?” Jon raised an eyebrow. “I thought handling a personal computer was common knowledge to everyone.”

“Because I’m from a poor family and we have never owned a computer.” Percy quickly countered. A white lie that held a lot of truth. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Also, Rosie told me that the assistants would come soon. Could you perhaps start around here without me?”

“Right. Well, I’m sure I can figure it out, I was-” Jon answered, fumbling a little over his answers. “Ah, thinking of, uh, organising some of the more commonly accessed statements and then…some…general…” He was trailing off. “…archiving.”

Percy, who hadn’t the slightest idea about archiving or organising files (cleaning and sorting his siblings’ possessions in order didn’t count!), just nodded with, what he hoped was, an appreciative smile and thought that he obviously chose the right person to help him out with the archivist duties.

So he left upstairs to find Elias and ask about that square, white computer on his desk.

Jon busied himself by sorting the pile of statements on the desk into two new piles. One pile which he thought could have some credibility and another much bigger pile which he deemed as obviously fake.

It hasn’t been made clear where his workplace is yet, but that was something for him and the head archivist to discuss when he returned.

Jon found another statement and began to read it, just like he did with all the other statements and sorted them in their piles. He had come to the middle of it, when the door suddenly opened by an unfamiliar, large young man.

“Hey, sorry! You haven’t seen a dog, have you?” he asked. He had messy ginger hair in curls, brown eyes, freckles and wearing a large, knitted jumper.

Jon blinked, confused. I’m-sorry, what?”

“Um, uh a dog.” The stranger continued nervously. “A-a spaniel, I think.”

A brief silence as Jon was very stunned, to begin with. “In-in general or…?” he asked slowly.

“N-no, in the Archives.” The other man stammered.

Jon glowered at the man. “Why would it be a dog in the archives?” he asked tersely, not in the mood for more nonsense .

“Oh, cause, well-”

“Who are you?!” Jon cut him off, he didn’t recognize this person at all. 

“Uh, M-Ma-Martin, I–and, cause… I… may have…let him in?”

Jon stood up from the desk chair and fixed “Martin” with the greatest, unamused glare. “What, why?!” he exclaimed, enraged.

“Oh-” Martin said and made a nervous “heh” noise. “Well, I didn’t-I didn’t mean to, you know, uh, I-we were outside, making friends, and–and then–” He continued to stumble over his nervous explanation.

“I-I had to come in, but my hands were full and, you know, the door’s really heavy, so-so I had to use my foot, and then he just, sort of, like, got past me-”

Jon interrupted him again, growing impatient with this man. “Why were you coming into the Archives?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Oh! Uh – I, I work here!” Martin answered.

“No you don’t.” Jon countered back irritatedly in his best know-it-all voice (or what he’s been told). “I was transferred here with Tim and with Sasha! And you are neither!

Martin seemed to finally realise who he was because he paled in horror. “ Oh! Ohh-h! Oh, you’re…Jonathan. Sims, yeah. The…um, uh deputy archivist…um – Mr. Bouchard said I’d-I’d be working for you and that…uh…Mr Weasley requested me?”

There was a long pause.

“Well, he didn’t tell me anything about it!” Jon snapped, growing into a worse mood.

“Well, he transferred me from the Library, so-”

“So I’m your other boss.”

Martin chuckled sheepishly. “I mean, I guess.”

“Which means technically, I have the power to dismiss you if this dog situation isn’t resolved immediately.”

“I mean, yeah probably.” Martin gave a little laugh and there was silence for a long moment before he finally understood what his other boss implied.”Oh! Oh! R-right, sorry! I-I’ll…sorry!”

And then Martin took off, rushing out the office in a hurry to find the dog before he would get fired.

Jon sighed, frustrated. A little heads up from Percy or even Elias would’ve been nice. He knows that he’s apparently just a deputy archivist, but he would still demand some information. “Well, that’s not ideal.”

Percy walked downstairs to the Archives, with a bulleted list in his notebook. “Let’s see…” He muttered to himself, frowning a little. “Press the start button, let the computer start up and ask Sasha James for further directions…”

Apparently, Elias claimed that the computer is the latest technology, so it hasn’t been there in the archives for long. The entire institute was adapting to the new Windows ‘95 computers which were released this year and Elias suggested taking help from Sasha since she was already familiar with the new computer system (apparently, she was in possession of her own computer).

He entered his office where Jon was probably waiting for him. “Elias said that Sasha is a better choice to help-what’s the matter?”

Jon was glowering at the desk with a death glare and crossed arms. He looked up at Percy, still irritated. “Did you hire someone from the library named Martin ?”

“Yes, I did.” Percy answered. “Surely Elias did fill in you the details of this archival team?”

“No, that must’ve slipped his mind and that Martin has let in a dog in the archives!”

A dog? Something clicked in Percy’s mind. Did Ron mention that Sirius was a…

“What kind of dog?” He asked suspiciously.

“Does it matter?”

“As a matter of fact,” Percy began in his best pompous voice. “Yes, it matters to me.”

Jon scoffed. “He claimed it was a spaniel.”

Oh . Good. So Sirius hasn’t broken out of that house and was possibly causing troubles in the archives. “I see.” Percy said. “Well, I think we’ll get that dog out of here in no time. Spaniels are usually well behaved and I don’t think it’s going to cause too much trouble in the archives.”

Jon looked very sceptical but said nothing more about it. “Any update regarding the computer?”

“Elias is busy, but he said that Sasha James has some personal experience with this kind of computer, so we’ll ask for her assistance.” 

His deputy archivist made a “hm” sound. “Anyways, I have sorted a pile of statements for you. This pile is statements I believe may have some credibility to.” He gestured to the pile which had only less than probably ten written statements.

Percy looked at the other, larger pile of statements. “What about that one?”

“Obviously fake, usually by liars and the mentally unwell.” Jon scoffed.

Percy wasn’t amused. “I’ll be the judge of that, Jon.” He responded. “Right, Elias told me that it was very important that we’ll digitise these archives, so I think we need to record the statements-”

A loud thud outside the door interrupted him. Percy turned around, concerned. “What was…” He muttered.”

The then opened and revealed Tim Stoker, the tall handsome man from Research in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt (and Percy, once again, ignored the strange flip in his stomach). 

“Hey, you must be our new boss!” Tim greeted him with a wide smile. “Alright?”

Percy shook his eager hand. His heart was beating faster (obviously, he was nervous). “Ah…yes. Very pleased to meet you. I’m Percival Weasley.”

“Percival?” Tim laughed a little. 

“It’s a perfectly good name, Tim. ” Jon said, annoyed. “Show some respect to your superiors.”

“Take it easy now, we don’t need a bloodbath here.” Percy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had far too much experience with his brothers bickering like no tomorrow. He turned to Tim. “Was it something else you needed than a presentation?”

“Hypothetically,” Tim began and looked sheepishly. “What would you say, if I said that there was a… dog .”

Jon visibly bristled.

“Situation. In the archives.”

“I’d ask if the problem was resolved soon.” Percy replied, keeping himself calm while Jon looked like he could explode like one of Fred and George’s water-resistant fireworks.

“Is it getting worse?” Jon snapped.

Tim shrugged but grinned. “So, right. How about this-”

“Tim.” Jon said slowly.

“Hypotechically-”

“ Tim .” Percy sighed frustrated.

“Yeah, yeah, there’s a dog situation in the Archives. There’s a…there’s a mess”

Percy felt cold, as if his veins were turning into ice. Oh please…he hoped just a box fell over or something. “What…what kind of mess?” He asked, nearly distraught.

“Of the…doggy variety.” Tim replied. “Sadly we probably have to throw away some…statements on the floor.”

Percy sank down on a chair and buried his face into his hands, trying to not cry tears of frustration. He had tried to keep calm about the dog because he needed to be the bigger person and have patience, there was no use to yell at his new coworkers. And he thought it would be out in no time, so no harm would come. But of course, he forgot that he was Percy.

Everything that could go wrong, would go wrong at the worst possible time.

He heard Jon sigh heavily and Tim made a sharp inhale. “Sorry, bossman.”

“It’s not your fault, Tim.” Jon said. “Let’s deal with this before it escalates.”

He could hear Jon walking out of the office. With his face in his hands, Percy felt a comforting pat on his shoulder. 

“Hey, we know you are fresh new to this, bossman. Don’t worry, we’ll fix this up!”

Percy finally looked up. “Just a question. Do you know how to record these statements? Elias wasn’t exactly specific.”

“I think I saw some old tape recorders from the 80s, in a closet!”

Cassette tape recorders…Percy was very familiar with those, he and his father had liked them a lot when he was in his third year. “I…I think I know how to work it out, then.” He said with a weak smile. 

THUD

“SASHA CATCH THAT DOG!”

“WATCH OUT FOR THE BOX WITH-

CRASH

It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet and Percy was already in tears.

Chapter Text

“Case 9922204. Statement of Nathan Watts, regarding an old encounter at Fishmarket Close. Statement given April 22nd, 1992.”

“Statement begins .”

Percy was exhausted, physically and mentally, when the clock finally hit 5 on the dot. The workday was over and Tim was the quickest to clock out, with his bag ready and jacket on. He and Sasha were snickering over some silly joke Tim made. Martin took his time to pack down his empty lunch box in his backpack and Jon…needed to acknowledge that work was over.

Today has been a disaster, to put it lightly. First off, the dog incident which resulted in Jon having a negative view of Martin, a few statements had to be thrown away because of the urgent mess the dog made. The computer kept crashing with blue screens whenever he tried to transfer the statements in the system and on top of everything, Percy felt drained of energy after he recorded two statements on the tape recorder. 

Martin had offered tea for him by lunchtime, which he had appreciated a lot. Jon continued his foul mood over the day and he only stopped his loud complaints about Martin when Percy told (or threatened, more like it) him that he will report this to Elias.

Jon resolved to grumble under his breath. 

Percy had found an office next to his. It wasn't as big as his, but it was definitely enough for Jon. There was a small conjoining door on the wall between their offices, which Jon found convenient because he didn’t need to go out and then knock on Percy’s door. 

Jon even taped up a little paper sign on his door which said “Jonathan Sims - Deputy Archivist”. 

It was a little endearing, Percy thought. 

He had no idea why he felt exhausted, but he felt as if he had been carrying heavy furniture all day despite the workload not being that serious. All he had done as of today was to chase a dog, suffering a smaller panic attack (it was level 3 or 4, this time), recording two statements on tape, introducing himself to his other two assistants, Martin and Sasha, and helping Jon with his little office next to his.

Percy decided to take a folder with statements and a tape recorder with clear cassette tapes, so he could make a smaller progress for tomorrow. He packed them down in his messenger bag and just closed it when the door knocked.

“Enter?” Percy called out and the door opened, revealing Martin who was already dressed in a lighter denim jacket. “Oh, Martin. I was just about to leave.”

“Yeah, I was just checking up on you. You seem a little tired, Mr Weasley.”

Percy flushed. “Just call me Percy, everyone does. Mr Weasley makes me feel as if I’m back in school and is about to be scolded by my least favourite professor again.”

“Oh, sorry!” Martin apologised. “Um…did that happen a lot?”

“Hm? Oh!” Percy replied. “Ah, not exactly. I was excelling in most subjects, if not all of them. My least favourite professor was…difficult. Not that I ever did anything wrong, but he was extremely hard to please or impress.”

Martin chuckled and rubbed at his neck. “I mean, I guess. Hey…you call your teachers for professors? Was it a private school you went to?”

Percy stood up and pulled the cord of his desk lamp, letting his office fall into darkness. “Yes, I suppose you could say that. It was a typical British boarding school. It was normal for students to address their teachers with a more respectful, academic term.”

“Oh, I see.” Martin said as he backed out of the way when Percy passed him and closed his office door. “Um…I just…s-sorry about the dog. Tim said that you were distraught about the mess-”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t really prepared for such a situation.” Percy waved off the apology. While he had a slight history of nearly losing his temper or mind with his mischief-making siblings, he knew Martin didn’t do it on purpose. 

Besides, the dog was cute…

“I admit that I’m not really what you and the others probably expect. But I will try to be a good boss.” Percy told him, he was nearly at the same height as Martin and Percy himself was pretty tall (a trait from his father). 

“I think you’re alright, if that helps?” Martin chuckled nervously. “I-I mean, I sorta expected you to yell at me about the dog. But you were really nice about it…”

Percy gave a smile which he hoped was reassuring. “I don’t think problems get solved if you stand around and yell about it. Besides, it was an honest mistake. You didn’t do that on purpose.”

“Thanks again…” Martin said softly. He looked at the wall clock. “Oh! I gotta go now, my bus is leaving soon! See you tomorrow!”

And Martin hurried upstairs to the lobby, leaving Percy alone in the archives. 

For some reason, now when he was by himself here, the archives felt bigger somehow. And he felt…watched. Observed. There was a prickling sensation at his neck and shivers went down his spine. 

Percy tugged at the collar of his dress shirt. ‘It’s nothing. If there was a ghost, I would’ve seen it by now.’ He thought to himself and walked towards the staircase up. ‘No one is watching you, Percival Weasley. Get your act together.’

Not many knew this fact, due to most wizards and witches tended to not bother with “Muggle geographics” (and it wasn’t as if the geographics was that different, magic or not). But Percy was very perceptive and had noted that a walk from the Institute to Grimmauld Place took nearly two hours.

He had familiarised himself with the different districts of London, when he started at the Ministry a year ago, and he had the illumination about how much bigger the British capital city truly was in real life.

So Percy quickly found a nearby alley, made sure no one was watching him and Apparated to a secluded alley near Grimmauld Place. His Apparitions were quiet, but Percy stumbled onto his feet. Yes, it took too much of his energy and he was already exhausted beforehand.

He thought about maybe converting his saved Galleons to Muggle Pounds and investing in public transportation. Like the bus or maybe the Underground (he heard Tim call it “the Tube”).

It was such a blessed relief to return to Grimmauld Place. Remembering to not ring the bell, Percy carefully opened the door and closed it behind himself. He went to the right side and entered the dining room. 

Well, it looks like there were no wards, this time. 

“Oh, thank goodness!”

Percy nearly jumped out of his skin when he was pulled into his mother’s embrace. “Hello, Mother.” He greeted her, feeling more worn out than when he took his NEWT exams. “I take it as you worried?”

“Of course I would be worried for you!” Mrs Weasley said and released him, gesturing for him to sit down. “There’s a war outside and you work at that Muggle place. No one found you out?”

“No one has found me out, Mother.” Percy smiled gently.

“Mum, you have so little faith in all of us.”  Bill chuckled, he sat by the table. It seemed like he had been talking with Sirius and Lupin about something before Percy’s return. “And it’s Percy. I can’t see him breaking laws.”

Their mother scoffed. “It’s not you lot I have no faith for. It’s the state of this world.”

Bill eyed Percy and frowned. “You look really tired, Perce. Did something happen?” He asked, sounding as if he were going into his “big brother mode” soon.

“No, I’m fine. Work was…a lot.” Percy confessed. “First of all, one of my assistants accidently let in a dog in the archives.”

Mrs Weasley suddenly turned around and fixed Sirius with a sharp glare.

“I haven't left the bloody house, why are you staring at me?!” Sirius snapped and crossed his arms.

Percy sighed. “It was a spaniel, Mother. A rather adorable one…except when it decided to make a mess on statements, so we had to…throw them away.”

Bill started to laugh. “Percy…your bad luck is striking again.” He joked.

His younger brother huffed. “I think I had quite enough of my horrible luck, thank you very much. In any case, the archives are in a horrid state and it will take me and my archival staff a very, very long time to get them in order.”

“How many are you in your department?” Lupin suddenly asked.

“Myself as the head archivist, one deputy archivist and three archival assistants.” Percy replied.

Lupin frowned. “Five people, then.” He said. “And how big are these archives?”

“Imagine the entire size of the Burrow, but if it was one floor.” Percy explained. “A third consists of the break room, my office, Jon’s office and the open area where my assistants have their work space. And then, there are endless rows of shelves filled with boxes of statements.”

Bill’s eyes widened. “And you’re gonna organise all of THAT?!” He exclaimed. Even Sirius and Remus looked very offput at that. “What have the previous archivists been doing?!”

“Monkeying around, I assume.” Percy retorted dryly. “So me and my four employees are going to fix this mess. Lovely.”

“And you can’t use magic without being seen.” Sirius finished, seeing the seriousness in the situation. “You’re sure you’re up to that? It seems a lot of work for a nineteen year old-”

“Eighteen.” His mother interrupted, irritated.

Percy sighed. “My age isn’t important right now, but it’s manageable. I could wait until after work hours and attempt to fix up the archives with magic. But that would be too suspicious. My staff will certainly find it fishy. But not to worry, at least I’m not working on this alone.”

“Glad to hear that.” Bill said. “The last thing we need is another Crouch situation where the bloody boss is gone and you are managing a whole goddamn department on your own.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Technically, I’m the head of this department, however small it is.” he corrected his older brother. He was on the verge to say something when something dawned on his mind, making him freeze up. “Hang on…Bill, am I like Dad now?”

Bill began to snicker. “Now when you mention it…yeah. Head of a small department? Yup. Just in a non-political workplace and your boss doesn’t screw you over.”

“Gracious me…” Percy sighed.

Well, how did that idiom go again? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Percy went upstairs to his temporary room, once the Order was going to have their meeting at six and while Percy had made a deal of being informed of any serious developments, he had refused a place within the Order.

Much to Fred and George’s protests since it meant if Percy didn’t join, then they couldn’t join the Order either. No matter if they were of age or not.

Percy sat by the desk and brought up the tape recorder. It seemed to be still working, despite the magic wards within Grimmauld Place. “Modern technology is a real wonder…” Percy mumbled for himself and had a statement ready, pressing down on the red button to record.

“Case 9870107. Statement of Amy Patel, regarding the alleged disappearance of her acquaintance Graham Folger. Original statement given July 1st, 1987. Audio recording by Percy Weasley, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.” He started. “Statement begins .”

And just as what happened earlier today when he recorded the two first statements, Percy felt himself drawn into the statement as if he was the protagonist and channelled into another persona. Suddenly, it felt as if he was no longer Percy but the statement giver, the narrator of this strange tale that was apparently based on an alleged true experience.

Despite the content in the statements being so unsettling and frightened Percy more than he cared to admit, he found himself unable to stop. He could if he wanted to, but the thing was… he didn’t want to stop.

He wanted to know how it started, he must know how it would end and he needed to know what happened in the statement. Every single detail, nothing would be left out and the feeling of a shameful satisfaction once he ended the statement, as if he just drank a cup full of a horror that belonged to someone else. 

And the mysterious, strange and uncanny sense he got, that there might be something more out in the world than just muggles and wizards. Something different, something no one has ever seen except for these statement givers and how no one would believe them…

There was a special kind of thrill that settled into the core of his soul. A special kind of knowledge that could finally satisfy Percy’s insatiable thirst for more knowledge.

“ “Isn’t it funny, Amy, how you can live so near and never notice. I’ll need to return the visit someday.”

I moved out a week later, and I never saw him again.” And the statement ended. Time for Percy’s footnotes.

“Statement ends.” Percy had seemingly returned back to himself, now relaying his thoughts of the statement. “It’d be easier to dismiss this experience as a hallucination, caused by long-term head trauma. However, Tim’s thorough research of this case gave good results and he got a hold of Miss Patel’s medical records.

While Jon, the deputy archivist, had some dubious thoughts regarding how my assistant acquired them, the records prove that Miss Patel is just as sane as I am and there were no further complications of such nature.

Miss Patel has refused a following-up, it seems like she wants to distance herself from such an experience and I cannot fault her for that. As for Graham Patel, he did definitely exist and the details of the events in his life seems to be true. However, I have noticed a significant difference between the Graham in digital photos and old polaroid photos. The dark-haired young man certainly doesn’t match with the recent counterpart in the more modern photos…

I don’t believe there is more to do about this case, since the statement giver isn’t interested in the follow- up interview, not even for closure. Sasha has, however, managed to locate one of Graham Folger’s notebooks that were thrown away. Just as told in the statement, it keeps saying one single two-word sentence. “Keep watching”, over and over again.

End recording.”

Percy pressed on the stop button and he felt more exhausted than ever. He nearly slumped over the desk, his eyelids were heavy as stones and his head felt fuzzy with sleep. Finally giving in for his physical body’s demands, Percy settled for one short nap.

Percy had no idea where he was, at first. He appeared to be walking down a dark, cold street in an unfamiliar town. The air was freezing cold, as if it had been raining all day and the downpour had stopped not long ago. 

The dark streets went up and down, like steep hills and Percy was walking down one, nearly slipping on the rain-soaked cobblestone road, going past a road sign that said Old Fishmarket Close, and nearly passing by a pitch black, seemingly empty alley, before he heard…

“Can I have a cigarette?”

Percy turned to his left side, looking into an alleyway that was narrow and unlit, bathed in the midnight darkness. His heart began to pound faster against its’ prison of ribs, fluttering anxiously with fear and a shiver travelled down his spine. His feet nearly seemed glued to the ground, stuck and melded with the cobblestone.

And there, barely seen in the darkness and Percy had to struggle to adjust his blue eyes to the night, on the stone stairs stood a figure, seemingly human, and swayed…

“Can I have a cigarette?”

“Percy?”

Something was shaking his shoulder and Percy shot up right in his desk chair, an unreleased scream in his throat and he looked around himself, wildly, until his eyes landed on…

“Oh…it’s just you, Dad.” 

His father’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and there was concern written in his expression.

Percy wondered why. 

“Are you doing well, Perce?” His father asked. “Bill told me that you have been very stressed out and exhausted recently.”

Damn it, Bill! He had already said that he was fine!

He pushed up his glasses to his nose. “I’m doing quite well, in fact.” Percy scoffed. “Bill is just hovering and being a motherhen, again. Any other reason why you came to check on me?”

“Hm? Oh, dinner is ready. And we probably should take our time, since Tonks tripped over the umbrella stand and the portrait is…loud, again.”

“If anything needs an exorcism, it’s that portrait. Bloody hag, she makes Great Aunt Muriel look pleasant …”

His father laughed a little. “Percival, that’s so awful. And also true.”

“You know I have never been one to lie or hide my opinions, Dad.” Percy smiled back at him. “Hm, that’s probably why I didn’t quite fit the mould at the Ministry.”

They waited for another ten minutes until it was safe to head downstairs for dinner. 

Percy couldn’t stop talking about his first day at the Institute, his left leg was bouncing and he flapped his hands a lot. He tended to do that when he was too excited about something and it was just something his family knew was part of his personality.

No one knew why, in fact. It was nothing anyone could find out, not even his own parents or St. Mungos. They eventually grew used to the fact that this was simply how he was, he wouldn’t be Percy without that.

“Percy, don’t forget to eat as well.” Mr Weasley said mildly. 

Percy, who had been in the middle to explain the organisation system, was briefly shaken out of it. “Ah, right.” He said awkwardly. “I do forget to eat sometimes, in the middle of something.”

“That’s true.” Bill remarked. “Percy would have starved and not cared about it if it wasn’t for his dorm mate.” He explained to Sirius. “Sometimes we even had to force him to eat.”

The twins suddenly grinned like happy sharks. “We remember that one time-” Fred began.

“In our fifth year!” George added.

“He kept nagging about some theories in Arithmancy-” Fred snickered.

“Really complicated nerd stuff-” George remarked.

Percy narrowed his eyes. “You two…” He sighed.

“And Oliver then said “Percy, shut up for a minute and eat your own sandwich for once” and then-” Fred continued.

“Percy said-” George straightened his back and huffed, in the displeased way his older brother used to do when he was annoyed. “Oliver, please, I am in the middle of a conversation !” He mimicked.

“And then Oliver said “Your theories aren’t going anywhere if you eat lunch, unlike the Golden Snitch!” and then he just served a large heap of pie for him.” Fred finished.

“It took me another twenty minutes to try and finish my lunch, he kept adding things!” Percy scoffed while his siblings laughed. “Besides, it was a very interesting theory I had going on and since he ruined my train of thoughts, I had to regain it later and that didn’t happen until after midnight, so I-”

“Is this when you two woke up the whole tower by arguing about what was more important, studies or Quidditch?” Ginny snickered. “That was amazing, I nearly thought you two could argue until dawn.”

“Just pity that Percy nearly lost his mind and tried to suffocate Oliver with a pillow.” Ron grinned and everyone laughed again.

Percy grumbled something under his breath. “Studies are more important.” He insisted. “How are you supposed to survive out in the world if you don’t even know what you’re up against?!”

“Yes, we know.” Mr Weasley said calmly. “You have always been an academic, after all. It’s the Prewett side of you.”

“I heard about that fascinating theory of yours.” Lupin remarked as he reflected back on that year. “Professor Vector was very impressed and it wasn’t an easy feat, so I heard. Septima told all about that theoretical papers and I believe you may have even impressed Severus with that.”

“Percy aims to impress.” Bill said fondly. “I remember before school even started, he could read at least five books per week, if he wanted to.”

Rest of the week went slowly and Percy soon settled into a routine. He would appear at the Institiute every morning and enter the archives at exactly nine o’clock, not a minute late. He would greet Sasha who was already there and Jon, who devoted himself to arrive an hour earlier. 

Then Martin would come hurrying down the stairs, nearly out of breath since his bus stopped outside by the stop at 9.01 and he would apologise until Percy asked him to not do that for one simple minute.

Tim would arrive last of them all, with a Starbucks coffee in hand and fashionably late as he called it and Jon would berate him for that, claiming that this isn’t like in Research and they don’t have over twenty researchers down here.

Percy would record the statements, adding his thoughts and theories at the end while his assistants worked with their assignments. Jon also recorded some of the statements and they would exchange theories about what they deemed as plausible or as fake. 

At 10.15, Martin would come with cups of hot, steaming tea along with some biscuits. Jon nearly refused at first and claimed that the tea was a hazard to the old documents, but Percy dismissed that notion, put away his work carefully and accepted his cup of tea.

Percy had made many cups of tea for Mr Crouch, but never gotten a cup of tea from anyone (well, other than his mother) and it was a nice feeling. It was a strange feeling to know that Martin was his subordinate who gave him tea.

Aiming to impress his new boss, Jon also accepted the tea although begrudgingly and he vanished into his own office before Martin could say anything more.

“I don’t think he cares for what I try to do.” Martin had sighed. “I let in one dog and he acts like I may as well lit the archives on fire.”

Percy set down his half-done cup. “Give him time, Martin.” he said gently. “The way I see it, Jon shares the same demeanour as a stray cat. You need to let him come to you.”

Martin smiled brightly, mumbled a “cool” under his breath and returned back to work.

After his tea break, Percy worked through another statement until lunch. He sat in the break room and ate his homemade lunch (which Mother had made for him) along with his assistants, but he didn’t talk much as his mind was left in the office and thought about the statements he just read. 

A mysterious library book, a trash bag filled with dolls and…a worm-infested woman, set on fire…

The last one was deeply unsettling and made his stomach turn, Percy struggled to not run off to the nearest bathroom to throw up. He tried to not think about it, but for some reason, he kept seeing the image as soon as he blinked.

Percy finished his lunch as soon as he could without seeming suspicious.

After lunch, he read another two statements. One about some vampire killer (he hoped not from their world, there would be hell to explain to the Ministry, fired or not) and someone who had prophetic dreams about deaths.

Percy was just about to read the next one when Jon stormed in from the little door between their offices, irritated.

[CLICK]

JON

(scoffs haughtily) I do not believe for a second that he speaks Polish as fluently as he speaks “Latin”!

PERCY

(irritated, speaking in his best “Excuse me, I’m a Prefect”-voice) Jon. I have no reason to doubt Martin’s linguistic abilities. I have checked it up in a Polish-English dictionary myself and he is correct. The word “veepalach” does seem to be “wypalać” and it does translate into “cauterise, brand”. 

JON

(sarcastically) Thank the Lord that he isn’t speaking nonsense again, then.

PERCY

(patient yet annoyed) Jon. Your work would be easier if you don’t try to look for faults at Martin all the time. 

JON

Well, it’s not as if I want to do that! Just the other day, another statement nearly got misfiled in the wrong shelf which would’ve cost valuable time and effort to correct! And he still keeps messing up the filing labels! How hard is it? The last three digits of the year, then the digits of the month and day! Back in Research, everyone know-

PERCY

(interrupts, thoroughly irritated now) But Martin isn’t a researcher, Jon! He’s from the library! (sighs heavily) My apologies, I lost my temper. But Martin is from the library, he doesn’t know which system you, Tim and Sasha have previously used in your former department. You are the secondary archivist, it’s your job to offer your guidance to our assistants when they need it!

(beat.)

JON

(sighs) Well…alright. Fine, I’ll…be more lovely. Now can I get back to work?

PERCY

You may. And Jon?

JON

Yes?

PERCY

I really don’t want to inform Elias about any workplace issues. I had quite enough of those at my former job.

JON

(hesitates briefly) You…ah…you had a job before this?

PERCY

Yes. I used to work in politics. I got hired as soon as I left school, but it wasn’t a good place. I worked hard but I was generally unliked.

JON

On what terms?

PERCY

My family name’s reputation. Then I made an oversight regarding my superior. It ended in a…fatal disaster. I decided to quit afterwards.

JON

Oh. I see. (shuffles awkwardly) Well, I should get back to work. (door opens and closes)

PERCY

(sighs heavily) Thank Merlin…he caught me off-guard with that. (groans quietly) Damn the Ministry…oh? Is this still running?


[TAPE CLICKS OFF]

Chapter Text

June turned into July soon enough and an unforgivable heatwave came over the British Isles. 

It was horrible. It was a nightmare.

Percy was slightly thankful that the archives were down in the basement (and he knew he would come to regret it in winter) and had thought they wouldn’t be as bothered as the people upstairs. But the heatwave still crept onto them and they were soon another handful of heatwave victims.

“It’s so bloody hot!” Tim shouted to no one in particular, leaning back on his desk chair and groaned. The buttons on his Hawaiian shirt were only half-done (how atrocious, indeed!) and showed off his well toned abs. 

Even Jon had foregone his usual sweater vest and exchanged his dress shirt into a dress shirt with short sleeves. 

Percy followed his example as well, even though he still wore his sweater vest and knew that he must look absolutely ridiculous. Besides, his co-workers didn’t know that he had cast a perfect cooling charm on himself.  

It was an hour until lunch when Tim just burst into his office. “Hey, bossman!”

“Still Percy, Tim.” Percy replied, not taking his eyes off the following up from Sasha. “What is it this time?”

“We got a statement giver, the first one!”

Percy looked up. “Someone came down to the archives to give a statement? I thought the plan was to wait with taking live statements until we have properly organised the archives?”

“Elias’ orders.” Jon said as he walked inside and placed another folder on the growing pile of “discredited”. “Apparently Elias said that you can’t leave statement givers hanging and said it was important.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Percy said slowly.

“Want me to take this?”

“No, it’s fine. Jon, you can take over recording these statements until I’m done.” Percy said and handed over a couple of folders to Jon. “Tim, send them in. And ask Martin to fix something to drink? Not for me, but for the statement giver.”

“Aye aye, bossman!” Tim made a salute and ran off. 

“Drinks in the archives?” Jon asked peevishly.

“Correction, in my office, Jon.” Percy scoffed. “And as my mother was very adamant to teach me, it’s bad manners to not offer something to drink after a terrible experience.”

“Alleged terrible experiences.” Jon corrected.

“Jon, the statements.” Percy commanded, unamused at Jon’s…well, Jon-ness.

Jon left with his folder with statements to record in his own, little office and closed the door between their offices. Not even a minute afterwards, a sharp knock on his office and Tim entered, holding the door open for the statement-giver. 

It was a young woman, probably a few years his senior, and she looked very shaken. Percy stood up from his chair.

“Good day.” He greeted with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Please sit down. One of my assistants is coming with a cup of tea later.” He continued and sat down.

Tim was silent as he closed the door carefully, but not before giving Percy a thumbs up and an insufferable grin.

She was a dark woman with long hair, tied in a long braid. She was dressed in a black dress and a dark blue cardigan. “My name is Naomi Herne and I’m here for a statement?” She began, sounding unsure. 

“Just a second. Before we begin, I’d like your consent to record this statement? We’re in the middle of digitising the archives with the help of this computer and it would be a great help if you would agree to it.”

Naomi Herne seemed to think it over before she nodded. “Yeah, I suppose it’s okay. I mean…less job for you, I guess.”

“Thank you.” Percy said warmly and set up the microphone and its 3.5mm cord which he connected to the input at the PC. Sasha had gone through this with him at least twice, so he knew how it worked.

The computer was thankfully already running, so he knew how to use it and what he was supposed to do here. The little arrow on the screen moved around as he used the “mouse”. He clicked on Start/Programs/Accessories/Multimedia and then clicked on the Sound Recorder option. 

Then a little box on the screen appeared, with a smaller black square with a flat green line. He left the arrow pointing at a smaller square with a round, red dot which was the symbol for recording. 

As if on cue, Martin entered the office with a cup of tea and left it on the desk. Then he left wordlessly, but smiled at them and Percy felt so lucky that he had such kind, helpful assistants. 

Naomi drank her tea and started her tale as soon as Percy clicked on the record button.

Then the program went into chaos.

“Goodness me!” Percy exclaimed as the computer gave out high pitched statics and distorted electronic sounds, it hurt his ears and he was nearly close to panic over the awful sounds. Poor Naomi pressed her hands against her ears.

“Sasha!” Percy shouted.

Despite Sasha checking over the Windows ‘95 over and over, making sure the equipment was in working order and there was nothing wrong with the software, the computer seemed to not record the statement without going bonkers.

So Percy has to resort to the tape recorder.

PERCY

Let’s see…I believe this might work-

NAOMI

Really? That thing? It has to be at least ten years old.

PERCY

I am aware, but as you witnessed before, we have some…technical difficulties with the computer. Which is odd, considering it worked fine until this point. But the tape recorders works at least and the reserve archivist can transcribe it later, so if you would be so kind-

NAOMI

You can’t be serious? You want me to tell my story into that rattling piece of junk? No wonder no one takes you seriously.

PERCY

(irritably) Then I may remind you that you don’t need to speak to us if our usage of tape recorders is beneath your dignity. No one is forcing you to come to this institute.

NAOMI

No, I just… I guess I’m just desperate. The last paranormal investigator I went to laughed at me when I suggested talking to you. Still, I-I guess you have to believe me.

PERCY

I will try my best. Shall we continue?

NAOMI

(sighs) Okay, from where we left off?

PERCY

I think it’s better if we start from the beginning, if you don’t mind.

Name, date and subject. I don’t trust that there is something to salvage from the computer recording.

NAOMI

Alright. My name is Naomi Herne, and I’m making a statement about the events following the funeral of my fiancé, Evan Lukas. The date is the 13th of July, 1995. 

To be honest I’m not even sure I should be here. What happened was weird and, alright, I can’t think of a rational explanation for it, but I was distraught. I still am. I should go. I probably just imagined the whole thing. He’s gone and that’s all there is to it!

PERCY

Perhaps. It could be in your head, but that doesn’t mean that it’s not real. However, I believe there has to be some foundation to your story, given the stone you brought here.

NAOMI 

That could be… I don’t know. I just don’t know what to think.

PERCY

(clears throat) Would you like to have privacy while you make your statement? I can leave you in peace, if you want-

NAOMI

No, wait… it’s just… could you stay please? I don’t want to be alone.

PERCY

(gently) Very well, I’ll stay. Start from the beginning, if you please?

NAOMI

Alright. I guess the beginning would be when I met Evan-

It was quiet in the assistants’ work area, all three of then trying to listen in to the live statement that happened behind the closed door of Percy’s office.

“Do you hear anything?” Martin whispered.

Tim was the closest to the door and leaned at his right side, trying to listen in. “Just muffled voices.” He muttered. 

Everyone scrambled to their seats when the office door of the “Reserve Archivist” opened and Jon stepped out. He looked very displeased with their antics.

“Tim.” He said tersely. “I don’t know how you were raised, but it’s downright ill-mannered to listen into others’ conversations!”

“Just making sure our boss’ first statement is going well!” Tim grinned, not looking the slightest sorry. Sasha snickered. “He’s probably the youngest boss ever, so it’s our duty to protect the little one!”

Jon scoffed. “Of course it’s going well. Mr Weasley is more…empathic and understanding of others' experiences, in spite of how alleged their claims may be.”

Martin muttered something.

Jon narrowed his eyes at the ginger. “Excuse me? Repeat that again, Martin.”

Martin looked up. “I just said that you don’t have to be rude.” He said defiantly. “These things in statements…for god’s sake, Jon, they actually happened to people!”

“Allegedly happened.” Jon corrected. “And there is no proof if Miss Herne’s story might have anything true to it! She might as well waste our time-”

Marin glared, even Tim and Sasha backed off since they had never seen soft, gentle Martin glare at anyone. “It doesn’t matter if that happened for real or not.” He snapped at Jon. “These are people’s thoughts, their experiences and their emotions! And you just tear them to pieces!”

“Well, there is no concrete evidence that they actually happened-!”

“Do you mind?”

All four of them turned on their heads and looked at the open door of Percy’s office. There stood Percy, tall with a straight back. He had a hand on the shoulder of the statement giver, Naomi Herne. She had red-rimmed eyes, as if she had been crying. 

Percy turned to her, speaking in a softer tone. “I hope it comforts you that I believe you and we’ll be looking into your statement. I’ll reach out if we find anything.”

“C-can I have another cup of tea? Before I leave…” Naomi hiccuped. 

“Naturally.” Percy smiled. “Martin, if you please?”

“R-right! Of course!” Martin said and rose up from his chair, he gently led the poor statement-giver to the break room. 

Percy then turned to Jon with a heated glare, as soon Martin and Miss Herne were out of earshot. “I know you have a problem with the statements, but you couldn’t keep your voice down about “alleged statements”? We were right within hearing range and it took ages for me to calm her down!”

“I’m sorry, but I’m under no inclination to believe-” Jon retorted.

“Perhaps not, but regardless of that, we don’t need to openly show it.” Percy said and crossed his arms. Despite being younger, he was taller than Jon. “Íf you keep this up, then there will be complaints and that can be taken to HR or to Mr Bouchard.”

“Right, right. I’m sorry then.” Jon sighed, irritated over being scolded by someone who was younger than him. “Now can we get back to work?”

“Very well.” Percy said, narrowing his eyes. “Also Tim, don’t listen to live statements. I could hear you.”

“Right! Sorry, boss!” Tim smiled. “Just making sure it goes well for you. We don’t want another head archivist to drop dead at the desk again, right?”

Percy paled a little at that.

The live statement had given Percy a lot to think about. He was shaken to his core, to the point that he didn’t want to apparate to Grimmauld Place and he took the Underground instead. The Circle Line took 32 minutes and Percy stood up, sandwiched in the crowd.

It was past 17.00, there were so many people in London who were heading home after a long day of work.

But it didn’t matter that he was surrounded by people, Percy still felt the old feeling of loneliness settle into his heart. 

Lonely…

Isn’t that what he has always been? He could remember as long as he could that he had always been a lonely child. 

Seven children in the household. Everyone got paired up…all except one. Him.

He had almost nothing in common with his siblings, he was the odd one out. 

Bill and Charlie had always been together with a small age gap that was always a couple of years. Fred and George were…well, they were twins so of course they would always be together. Ron and Ginny were closest in age, only one year apart, and they were the youngest of the bunch.

And there was him, in the middle. Born after Bill and Charlie, but before Fred and George. Not only that, but he preferred the company of books before people. He was strange, odd. He couldn’t sit on a broom without feeling nauseous and he was rubbish at Quidditch. 

It was so easy to forget him, even if his parents and siblings didn’t mean to. He just faded into the background. A constant presence, but not someone they’d go for. He was the last option for social company.

Percy had grown up to become an independent person, but a very lonely one. He had six siblings, but he was unable to emotionally connect with them. 

They were loud, energic and chaotic. They wore their hearts on their sleeves, born warriors. He was quiet, calm and collected. He kept his heart protected behind defensive walls. He was a scholar. 

Percy has always tried to impress his family, to show that he was here and he belonged with them. He learnt how to help out in the household before he went to Hogwarts; he used to take care of the younger ones, help out in the garden, look after the chickens, wash the dishes and later, he learnt how to mend clothes and cook. 

Mother used to gush over how he looked so much like Dad and he was going to become just like him. The thought of making his parents proud had burned in his mind since then. He knew what he wanted; he needed to get absolute top grades and land a fine job in the Ministry. That was it, that was his call. That was what he was supposed to do.

Not that it worked.

Once he had returned to Grimmauld Place, Percy sat upstairs in his bedroom and reflected over himself.

Hogwarts had been a good time and he had never thought he’d miss it so much, but he did. It hadn’t been so hard. He was gifted in the academic sense, but failed to understand social cues. But he had Oliver back then, he had been his only friend (apart from Penny) and taught him how to pick up on social cues.

But now he was dealing with his own downfall from the Ministry and working at the Magnus Institute, an academic Muggle place.

Perhaps…he was always meant to be a scholar, after all. He thought about the Ministry, how utterly awful and miserable he had felt when he worked there. But he never showed it, he wanted to show his family that everything was perfectly good. To make them proud.

But maybe he could still make them proud, without the cost of his happiness.

Percy thought about his kind, helpful assistants. Sasha, Martin…and Tim (and he ignored the strange fluttering in his stomach). He thought about Jon, his second in command. He was a rock when he felt he was being swept away. 

Jon wasn’t shy when it came to honest opinions. To others, he seemed stand-offish, cold and rude, but Percy could tell that he was a kind, considerate and intelligent person.

Maybe because they were the same? 

It knocked on the door. Bill opened the door, inviting himself inside. “You’re okay, Percy? Ron told me that you came home and were odd.”

“Ron exaggerates, I assure you.” Percy said, he took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

“Oh yeah, Dad has mentioned that you work hard.” Bill replied. “I just worry for you, sometimes. It’s easy for you to isolate yourself and you pretend everything’s fine. You know we care for you.”

‘How come I have a hard time believing it, then?’ Percy thought. ‘Why does it feel like it’s not…real?’

The thought of someone, even his own family, would come to care for him was so alien, so unfamiliar. Wasn’t that a sad thought? That he couldn’t trust his own family to care about him, to see that he was more than just his grades and books?

Lonely…that was exactly what he was, he thought to himself when he sat by the dining table and it was loud as usual. Red and George joked as usual, Ginny was more often joining in now. Everyone else was talking, chattering away and he sat there, eating his dinner and was silent.

Anytime he talks, people either roll their eyes or laugh at him when the twins make fun of him.

Percy suddenly missed his coworkers’ company most of all, hearing Jon complain about the accurate details in statements would be a comfort. Sasha explaining the basics of how to use a computer would be nice. Martin’s soft, gentle smile when he offered a cup of tea. Even Tim’s obnoxious jokes would be welcome.

‘How come that I feel more at home with my coworkers than my own family?’ Percy wondered to himself.

“Hm? Martin’s birthday?”

“I found out at the last minute, there is almost no time to get him a cake!” Tim complained and sighed dramatically. “Or a gift or plan a party or anything!”

“Let me guess, he was tight-lipped about his birthday because he knew you would try to plan something extravagant?”

Tim grinned. “Well, of course! We are the hottest archival staff, it only makes sense that Douchard put us all in the basement! We’re a distraction!”

Percy sighed with a smile. “I’ll see what we can do. Until then, you should get back to work. And please don’t call Mr Bouchard that name again. You’ll get me into trouble.”

“Nooooo!” Tim laughed and shook his head. “Never! Don’t you worry about anything, bossman!”

Despite how extroverted Tim was, he always managed to make him smile. Percy, who had grown up with six extroverts to siblings, was amazed over the difference between them and Tim. 

They ended up going out for ice-cream on Martin's birthday. Trying to find out what his assistant liked for his special day was like pulling teeth and Martin only said that he loved ice cream.

Percy wished that he had some spare time to make an ice cream cake, in that case. And at the ice cream shop, no one ever noticed it if he used a spell that made their ice cream last longer.

Jon, for reasons he didn’t know, picked a rum and raisin ice-cream. Tim settled for nothing else than the most extravagant choice; exotic fruits. Sasha had gotten a berry-vanilla ice-cream for herself. Martin picked a classic vanilla for his birthday ice-cream.

Percy surprised everyone with pear and chocolate ice-cream.

“I thought you would’ve picked a “safe choice”, like Jon.” Sasha leaned to him and whispered. 

He snorted. “I’m not old and I’m not pretending to be mature. I can like any ice cream I want, thank you very much.”

“-and this is where things get interesting.” Jon continued to blabber about emulsifiers. Percy wasn't sure what prompted this, but he didn’t complain as Jon seemed content for once. “You see, t he hydrophilic portion dissolves in the aqueous phase and forms a dispersion of small oil droplets!”

Tim snickered. “Having a nice birthday, Martin?” He said.

Martin sat there with vanilla ice cream and listened to every word Jon was saying. “Quiet, Tim. This is where things gets interesting…” He said absent-mindedly.

“When is your birthday then, Percy?” Sasha asked.

“August 22nd.” Percy answered automatically. “My siblings will probably plan to kidnap me, try to make me be more sociable and be more chaotic as usual.” He added. 

“Not if we kidnap you first!” Tim grinned. “I bet your siblings can’t take on the great Timothy Stoker!”

“Six siblings, Tim.”

That caught Jon’s attention, his spoon fell back into the glass bowl with rum and raisin ice cream. “Good Lord, six siblings?!”

“Are your parents rabbits?” Tim wheezed.

“Debatable.” Percy said. “But yes, I do have six siblings. Five brothers and one sister.”

“Let me guess, you are the oldest of the bunch then?” Sasha guessed.

“Not even close. I have two older brothers, three younger brothers and one little sister. I’m the third.”

“Third?!” 

“What do your brothers do for a living, then?”

Percy pondered over it, trying to explain without exposing himself. “Yes…they both work overseas. You see, they left home as soon as they graduated from school. Bill is the oldest, he went to work in Egypt, you could say that he is a little of an Indiana Jones type. Charlie works on an animal reserve in Romania, he has always been an outdoors-type of person.”

“I see.” Jon said. “And your younger siblings…?”

“They are still in school. You remember I told you that I attended a boarding school in Scotland? They are attending as well. They’ll return to school on September 1st.”

Tim suddenly grinned. “So! What are they like?”

“Fred and George are twins, they are true pranksters and I am their favourite victim.” Percy said dryly. “Ron is my youngest brother, he is talented in chess and he is very resourceful, even if he needs to believe more in himself. Ginny is the youngest and my only sister, she has grown more tough, independent and she is very headstrong. All of my siblings has been playing a certain sport in our school.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “But you haven’t?” He asked and the other assistants looked back at him. “Forgive me, but I don’t think he looks like an athlete-!”

“No, you are right.” Percy smiled, but it had no warmth. “I’m the only one in my family who has never had a talent for sports. They are all very extroverted, loud and energetic while I’m…oh well…”

“Different.” Martin suddenly said.

Percy nodded. “Yes. I’m a scholar, after all. I preferred the company of books and thirsted for more knowledge. I do like sports very well, I just don’t see the point of losing my head over it. My roommate at the school, he was obsessed with sports and he couldn’t comprehend how I, a Weasley, couldn’t care less about it.”

“To be fair, rugby is tons of fun!” Tim added with a grin. “But I get it, maybe sports isn’t your thing.”

“But isn't it lonely?” Sasha inquired. “What you're telling us is that you feel alone in a large family and if you are one of seven children, one is bound to be left alone while everyone else has someone to be paired with. How large is the age difference?”

Percy got out his favourite ink pen (he had grown very fond of them, more useful than quills) and started to write up names, adding a year in parentheses.

“Bill and Charlie are the oldest, there is a two year age difference between them. Then there’s me, I’m three years younger than Charlie. After me comes Fred and George, there’s two years between us. Then Ron, he’s two years younger than the twins and then, there’s Ginny. Only one year between her and Ron.”

Jon and the assistants looked at the napkin he had been writing on.

Bill (November 29th 1971)

Charlie (December 12th 1973)

Me (August 22nd 1976)

Fred & George (April 1st 1978)

Ron (March 1st 1980)
Ginny (11th August 1981)

“You got to be joking, the twins were born on bloody April 1st?!” Tim burst out laughing. “Oh my lord, that is hilarious!”

“I know, everyone has that reaction.” Percy sighed. 

Jon looked at the dates. “Hm, I understand the dynamics a little better now. It appears that you are the odd one out, as you must’ve been too young to join your older brothers but too mature for your twin brothers.”

“You have no idea how accurate that is. Percy said and took a bite of his ice cream. “And all of them are sport-crazed fools, just like everyone in our family before us.”

“Well, if you weren’t a scholar as you tell us, then we wouldn’t have met you.” Sasha added. “That’s why you came to the institute, right?”

“Yes…” Percy answered and started to smile a little, despite the unbearable heat wave creeping inside the ice cream shop. “I suppose so.”

It was the strangest thing, but he never felt alone with Jon, Tim, Sasha and Martin. And Percy relished in that feeling.

Chapter Text

It was late July when Tim gathered his co-workers to plan a special event.

“Gentlemen! Lady! I have an important announcement!” Tim began the “meeting”, in a very dramatic way. “August 22nd is dawning on us, so we need to plan for the very special occasion-”

“It’s a Tuesday, Tim.” Jon interrupted. “It’s a normal workday.”

“No, no! It will be our young boss’ birthday! Our very own Percival Weasley’s birthday! How old is he? We don’t know. What does he like? No idea! Does he like parties? Not the foggiest! That’s why we must gather intel!”

“Or, we can just ask him.” Martin suggested. “It’s not that hard, he kinda opened up to us when we went to the ice cream shop.”

Sasha had already gotten up her notepad. “Well, we do know when he’s born so he will become…hang on, 19 years? Is Percy seriously just eighteen?!”

“One would question why Elias would hire an inexperienced young man, barely an adult, as the head archivist.” Jon added and crossed his arms. “While I have grown…sympathetic towards him and I consider him a good boss, Percy is…well, young. ”

“Didn’t he mention that he worked in the government for a year before?” Sasha added. “That would mean that he started to work as a seventeen year old! That isn’t possible because that would mean he started working while also being in school.”

“Yes, that is odd…” Jon agreed. “I think we all can agree that Percy is an enigma. Because we do know the details of his family and his personality. But why attend a boarding school in Scotland when he lives with his family in Devon? Why travel so far and what about his education?”

“Okay, so we are gossiping about our boss instead?” Martin questioned, frowning. “Isn’t that rude?”

“Not really, he’s kind of a mystery.” Sasha replied. “The things we know about him are just personal life, not a thing about his qualifications or any of the relevant things. Besides, he doesn’t even know anything about Gertrude Robinson.”

Jon nodded. “As far as I’m concerned, strange things have happened around him as well. I know for a fact that his office was in complete disarray upon his arrival. But when I entered it to greet him for the first time, it was clean and neat.”

“Maybe he cleaned it up?” Martin suggested.

“No, because Rosie described to me how it looked and considering what she told me, it would’ve taken at least three to four hours to clean everything up. I arrived at the archives shortly after him.”

“So he’s a neat freak. Does that really matter?” Tim grinned.

“It is impossible to clean that fast and without a mistake in mere thirty minutes!” Jon insisted. “But that is not all! Everytime something odd happens, he just dodges the question. Remember when he told us about his family being obsessed with a sport? He never tells what kind of sport it is. And why would the government hire a seventeen year old, suppose he was still in school back then? Something doesn’t add up.”

“Also, he doesn’t exist.” Sasha added.

Jon turned around, eyes wild with confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I was curious what kind of school he would’ve gone to.” Sasha said, not at all ashamed over looking up at her boss. “Percy Weasley doesn’t exist. I called several secondary schools, pretending I’m a distant cousin and looking for him. Jordanhill School, Hyndland Secondary School, Boroughmuir High School, Culloden Academy…I called every secondary school in Scotland, both state-funded and private.”

“And he isn’t an alumni of any of them?” Jon concluded.

Sasha shook her head. “Either it’s an independent school we have never heard of or he isn’t who he seems.”

Tim chuckled. “Whoa, calm down there. So what if he’s almost nineteen. You two doesn’t think he murdered Gertrude, right?”

“No.” Sasha said.

“Maybe.” Jon said and he got raised eyebrows from the other three. “I-I don’t know, I don’t even know who my boss is!”

“Does it help if I tell you that I know what school he went to?” Tim suggested.

“You know?!”

“Well, of course I do! My little brother attends that school. He’s off to his fifth year this September after all, he is very eager and excited.”

Jon nearly gritted his teeth. “Tim, you couldn’t have mentioned this before I nearly spiralled over the fact my boss might be lying or not?!”

“Sorry about that, I was just worried about his educational merits.” Sasha said. “Jon, I didn’t know you were being so paranoid over this.”

“And it wouldn’t be the first time Elias would hire someone underqualified. Am I right, Martin?” Tim smirked.

“I will set your desk on fire, Tim.” Martin said with a forced, pleasant smile.

Jon leaned towards Sasha. “What is that about?”

“Oh, just an old inside-joke.” Sasha waved it off with a knowing smile. “Tim once tried to flirt his way when Martin worked in the library and it didn’t work, so they make jabs at each other sometimes. The whole “underqualified” joke is one of them.”

“I see.” Jon said while he suppressed a sigh of relief.

The subject was dropped until another occurrence happened.

It was after work hours and Sasha had been hoping to catch the same train as Percy, since he was also riding the Victoria Line. But then he had ducked into a dark alleyway and Sasha, curious as ever, followed him.

Only to realise that he was gone. Percy had vanished into the thin air and the alleyway was empty, only occupied with a stray cat nearby.

“And he just vanished?” Jon asked when Sasha told the others of this, the next day. “He didn’t pass the alleyway fast or…?”

“It was practically a dead-end alley, Jon. Where would’ve he gone, in that case?” Sasha asked rhetorically.

“Maybe he got onto a broom and just swooshed his way?” Tim joked and snickered.

“I think I would’ve seen that, Tim. It was a clear summer day yesterday.” Sasha shot back. “Look, I really like him as my boss, no matter how young or unqualified he might be, but something is odd about Percy.”

Martin chuckled nervously. “I mean…I mentioned last week that we were out of tea and he asked me if I was sure. So naturally, I went to check and there was a full supply of tea in the cupboard.”

“How does he do that?” Jon pondered. “It-it doesn’t make any sense! Martin, how empty was the tea cupboard?”

“Practically all empty except for that ginger tea bag.”

“Oh, that one has been there since Gertrude’s time, I heard.” Sasha said. “The package had a layer of dust.”

“And how long were you gone?”

Martin scoffed annoyed. “I wasn’t gone for even ten minutes. Are you even listening?”

“Unless he had an entire stash of tea in his messenger bag, I highly doubt he would’ve gotten time to run to the nearest Tesco for more tea. We would’ve seen him.” Jon retorted. “Something odd is going on about him and I need to find out.”

“And what if I had an entire stash of tea and decided to share?”

Everyone jumped. There, in the doorway of the break room, stood Percy with a couple of papers in one hand and the other hand on his hip. 

“For everyone’s information, my mother is a true motherhen and always gives me lots of tea and knitted jumpers. I have nothing against sharing with you conspiracy theorists.”

Tim laughed out loudly. “Alright, if you say so, boss! Mystery’s solved!”

“Wait, what about that alley then?”

“You might’ve noticed there was a door at the right side, Sasha.” Percy answered smoothly. “I was visiting an old friend nearby.”

“...oh.” Sasha seemed very disappointed at that. 

Percy smiled wryly. “If you four expected me to be some kind of spooky cryptid, then I must disappoint.”

“So you’re just the average underqualified archivist in 80s aesthetics?” Tim grinned.

Percy narrowed his eyes. “Tim.”

“Percy.” Tim shot back with a grin.

The lanky ginger sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up a little. “Just because I had a heart-to-heart with you lot, it doesn’t mean you can strut around the archives and poke fun at my qualifications. ”

“Oh come on! There are no security cameras around here, we live in the basement all day long and if we don’t poke fun at it, who will?”

“My twin brothers will and I constantly pray that you won’t meet.” Percy replied and shuddered. “Oh, such a terrible thought…”

Martin tilted his head at the side. “Surely they can’t be that bad…”

“They kept stealing my prefect badge to change the title. The first one said PPP.”

“What does that mean?”

“Pompous Prefect Percy. Lord, I hated that nickname…”

“And the second one? Assuming you got another one?” Jon inquired.

“It literally said defect .” Percy said dryly. “And don’t even get me started on my Head Boy badge in my last year.”

Tim smirked. “Let me guess? It said “Big Head Boy”, didn’t it?”

Percy stopped his ranting and looked at him, narrowing his eyes. “How did you know that?”

“Oh, it was kind of obvious.” Tim said and shook his head dramatically. “That wasn’t really original. They need to step up their game.”

“No! Absolutely not!” Percy exclaimed. “I never want to hear those words from your mouth ever again, Tim Stoker! They don’t need to step up their games! Who knows what they plan next, candy that makes you sick on purpose or something else ridiculous!”

“That sounds amazing…imagine eating a fudge that makes you throw up and if you aim that on Elias-”

“Timjamin, I’m eating!” Sasha shouted and threw a banana peel at Tim.

Percy had fallen into a semi-comfortable routine (as comfortable you could be in the middle of the heatwave from hell) and it wasn’t until early August when something happened. 

It was evening, Percy sat by the desk in his green bedroom at Grimmauld Place and recorded another statement, trying to get ahead and to lessen the workload on Jon. He had noticed that Jon was staying longer hours than him, attempting to fix the archives by himself and probably to make a good impression.

“End recording.” Percy finally said and turned off the tape recorder. He took off his glasses, closing his eyes and sighed. He was barely getting through more than two statements per day. Jon was a great help in recording the statements, but they weren’t even making a dent in tidying up the archives.

Perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew, after all. Percy knew he was, by all means, underqualified for a position in a muggle library. He was not even nineteen yet and he felt like such an impostor.

He was lucky that neither Jon nor his assistants had reported the issue to HR or something like that. Percy had been so terrified to be found out, but to his surprise…they didn’t even seem phased by it. It was almost as if they already knew. And in hindsight, perhaps that was obvious.

He was briefly shaken out of his thoughts, regarding the statement, when he heard movements out in the hallway. ‘What on earth…?’ He thought to himself and walked up to his door, opening the door. He heard doors opening and closing, franatic whispers and the doorbell ringing (and that horrible portrait hollering).

Percy, unable to keep his curiosity to himself, decided to go downstairs and investigate. He had just reached the bottom floor when he nearly collided into someone.

“Hermione?” Percy asked. “What is happening?”

Hermione, who had been staying with them since the end of June, looked very concerned. She bit her lower lip, frowning. “It’s the Ministry! They’re expelling Harry.” She told him.

“What?” Percy was shocked. “Why? He asked, he was disturbed by this. “Why would they do that?”

“Because he used magic and now, the Minister is ready to snap his wand and expel him from Hogwarts!” Hermione blurted out. 

Feeling slightly paranoid of being listened to, Percy led her to an empty room nearby so they could talk. And as he expected, Ron followed right after them.

“That’s preposterous, Harry knows enough sense to not practice any magic outside school.” Percy then said. “Considering the incident with the house elf three years ago, he has already received a warning. He wouldn’t do that without grounds.”

Ron suddenly came up. “How do you know anything about that?”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Because he told us?” He answered.

“Harry has only told us that in the car. Me, Fred and George!” Ron shot back. “How can you know anything about that?”

Percy frowned. “I’m pretty sure he told us at some point? How else would I know it?”

Hermione sighed impatiently. “That’s not what’s important right now!” She said frustrated. 

“No, indeed.” Percy said. “The Minister has no business with school expulsions. I can’t see why he would try to meddle into that kind of business. As far as I’m concerned, Hogwarts is an independent private institution governed by a school board. Unless…”

“Unless what?” Ron pressed.

“Unless Fudge has grown more paranoid regarding his position.” Percy concluded. “Remember the promotion I turned down?”

“And he fired you, we know that.” Ron said. “What of it?”

“Isn’t it odd?” Percy asked. “I’m only a year out of Hogwarts and my only experience is in the Department of International Magic Cooperation. I was forced to run the whole department when Mr Crouch disappeared and then, I was made the lynchpin when he was…” He swallowed. “Murdered. Why would the Minister of Magic promote me, if I had done such a serious misconduct-”

“For Merlin’s sake, you didn’t do anything wrong!” Ron snapped. “We know it, Bill knows it, Dad knows it, everyone knows you didn’t do anything! You got the instructions and did as you were told!”

Hermione shook her head, her bushy hair flew around. “No, he’s right. Why would he promote Percy in that case?”

“Dad thinks it was to spy on us.” Ron suggested.

“I don’t think so.” Percy said. “Something feels…odd. Harry is a fifteen year old school boy. He poses no threat to Fudge. The Minister seems convinced that he’s lying about the…well, the return . But even if he did, Harry would win on nothing if he lied. Something about this doesn’t make sense.”

“Harry’s name is famous, though.” Ron said. “And the pompous git thinks Dumbledore wants to overthrow him.”

Percy stared. “I’m sorry…what?!” Then he burst out laughing. “Dumbledore, overthrow Fudge by means of power? That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard! Does he even know the headmaster at all?”

“I know, isn’t he bloody stupid?” Ron shrugged with a smirk. 

“Everyone knows that Dumbledore would never leave Hogwarts!” Percy continued. “I remember everyone wanted him to be the Minister when the first war ended, but he has always refused that post. I just can’t imagine Dumbledore as a minister.”

But Hermione didn’t share in the joke. “But why would Fudge want you as his personal assistant?” She insisted. “If you don’t think it’s to spy on the family.”

Percy regained his composure. “I believe it’s to use me, but I don’t know in what sense.” He suddenly rose up and closed the door. “Ron, you remember that I have that weird ability?”

“The one with visions? Yeah.”

Hermione sat up straighter, interested. “Visions?”

“Percy inherited some kind of gift from Gran, Dad’s mum.” Ron explained. “It looks like he spaces out, but he can catch glimpses of the future, but it’s never something important or concrete.”

“I have some kind of…sight.” Percy continued. “That was why I took Divination in the first place, I was trying to understand but…there is only so much information as books and teachers can give. I read Divination for five years and I still don’t understand those visions.”

“So you are some kind of a Seer?” Hermione concluded.

“Not really, I can’t give prophecies or see the future.” Percy shook his head. “Those visions only exist to give me a headache, apparently. But to my point, there is another reason why I didn’t take the promotion…I had one vision. It was clearer than anything I ever had before.”

Ron leaned closer. “Yeah? What was it? Was it important?”

“It was…in a sense. I saw myself as Fudge’s assistant, but the next moment…I was alone. I saw me fighting with Dad, but there are never any sound in the visions. And I saw that…I was forsaken. By you, all of you.”

Ron gaped. “What?!” He exclaimed. “Percy, we wouldn’t disown you for that!”

“Then how would you explain that vision?” Percy said, crossing his arms and paced around. “The very last thing I saw from that vision was that I wasn't fired. Quite the opposite, Fudge kept me. And that’s it, that is the only clear message from the future I have gotten. It was a warning, if I remained on that path. I can’t let that happen.”

“When did you have that vision?” Ron suddenly asked. “Is that when you flipped out over that spider in your bedroom?”

Percy turned to Hermione who looked a little confused. “Ron, the twins and Ginny had been home for four days or so. I was reading a book in my bedroom when I had that vision. I woke up from it when I felt a crawling sensation on my hand and there was…a spider crawling on it. I may have…overreacted a little.”

Ron laughed. “Overreacted? Perce, you screamed bloody murder and set the curtain on fire!”

“A spider crawled on my hand, Ronald!” Percy snapped. “I don’t know how you overcome your fear of spiders, but that was at least one thing you used to respect about me.”

Ron shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “I don’t mind the small ones anymore, it’s more the big ones that’s the issue.”

Percy narrowed his eyes, but decided to let it go. “In any case, that is what convinced me that I had chosen right.”

Hermione looked very sceptical at that, but Percy was well aware that she didn’t believe much in the subject of divination. It was much wiser to not press the issue. “In any event, Fudge has no power when it comes to expelling students. Why did Harry use magic, again?”

“Dementors, we overheard it from the Order. They’re having a meeting right now.” Ron said. 

“Dementors? Then he has the full right to defend himself!” Percy exclaimed. “In mortal situations, underage students are allowed to use magic to save themselves! There is no time to wait for Aurors when you almost get your soul sucked out!” He blew up and started to pace around, ranting about this matter.

“There is a perfectly reasonable explanation-”

“The guy was wrapped in a cocoon of web!”

“As I said, a natural explanation-”

Percy had a headache and the bickering, coming from Jon’s little office on the other side of the wall, was driving him inside.

Martin was doing the following up on the Vittery case and Jon, who originally wanted Tim to do it, was constantly on his case. 

And Percy hadn’t slept more than four hours, so he was on the verge of a breakdown. His temples kept throbbing in pain, he hadn’t gotten his tea yet, he was exhausted and the argument across the wall was getting on his nerves.

“Carlos Vittery was there for over a week-”

“Alright, that is bollocks. A week isn’t enough time to encase a dead body in spider web!”

“And you suppose it was the “ghost spider” who did it?”

Percy had enough.

“Tim!” He snapped and shut his eyes tightly. The door opened shortly afterwards.

“Yeah, boss-whoa, are you okay?”

“Just fine.” Percy said through gritted teeth. “Will you please shut up those two? I have a killer headache and I’m almost about to murder both of them!” He snapped out those last words and finally, it was silent from the other side.

Tim answered quickly. “No worries, boss! Leave it to me!” He said and vanished.

For a blessed moment, Percy crossed his arms on the desk and leaned his head onto them, nearly drifting to rest. He could hear mumbling across the wall, it was muffled and low. It gave his brain a strangely pleasant, comfortable buzz.

He was on the verge of drifting off when someone put a glass of water along with some pills on his desk. Percy looked up and saw Sasha, smiling comfortingly to him. “For the headache.” She said lowly. “And in case you wonder, they’ve stopped arguing.”

“Thank you…” Percy mumbled. He swallowed the pill along with some water. “I…haven’t slept many hours. And there is only so much of Jon’s scepticism I can take.”

“And it looks like even Martin is fed up with that.” Sasha remarked. “He’s been so patient about this until now.”

“Martin is an angel.” Percy agrees, feeling his headache subsiding for now and he sipped on his water. It calmed his nerves. “I’m sorry you had to see me in this state. There are times when my senses grow too strong to handle.”

Sasha tilted her head at the side. “Oh, so you were overwhelmed? You know, it’s okay to not feel okay, sometimes. We don’t think less of you if that’s the case.”

“My former workplace would disagree with you.” Percy sighed softly.

“Good thing you’re not there anymore then. You wouldn’t have met us in that case.”

“Yes…” Percy said fondly. “Yes, I suppose so.”

For the first time in ages, Percy considered himself lucky. 

Then he wasn’t so lucky. In the future, Percy would remember exactly when everything went down the toilet and that was in mid-August 1995.

It all began with Martin being gone for almost two weeks. He got the message “Sick. -M” on the pager (a small electronic thing that sends short messages) he had gotten. It was a mandatory workplace device, in the event they were out investigating on the field and couldn’t find a payphone booth.

Percy sighed as he wrote up on a post-it “Martin, sick leave 5/8 -95. Messaged per pager.” and stuck the note to the corner of the monitor of the big, white computer.

Maybe he had screwed priorities, but he already missed Martin’s tea.

And while Martin was gone, things had gotten tense at Grimmauld Place. Percy wasn’t aware of most things, as he had refused a place in the Order, but he had been kept in the loop of any important information. Something Ron seemed to nearly resent him for.

It wasn’t like it was his fault Harry got attacked by Dementors or that the Minister was crazy and paranoid. But Percy took it in stride, Ron was a teenager and it was a given that he was going to be incredibly moody.

If he survived Fred and George, then surely he can survive his youngest brother. Besides, it’s Ginny he knows will become the worst of the bunch. 

Percy was becoming steadily more tired, as of late. He was getting through more statements now, but it always left him exhausted and slightly paranoid. It felt as if someone’s stare was burning in his neck but there was no one there.

He felt as if he were being constantly watched. And reading the statements into the tape recorder wasn’t helping, he fell into what Tim called “the trance”. He puts himself into the situation of the statement giver and when the original statement ends, Percy has this overwhelming feeling of dread and he pretends that everything is fine. He needs to stay professional and unphased by the statements. 

But the truth is…Percy is afraid. And the worst part is he can’t admit this to anyone.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t that Percy didn’t care about what was happening in Grimmauld Place or the magic community. He did care about what was going on with Harry Potter (and he had been trying to look after him, as he was an unofficial part of his family).

His attention wasn’t so great at keeping an eye on more than two things. Percy was good at multitasking when he still attended Hogwarts, but it was because he knew it was school-related and it was easier to keep track of his assignments since he was forever a scholar at heart.

Otherwise, he supposed he could be a little oblivious. He was socially awkward as he didn’t understand most social cues, he tended to take things too literally and he failed to see the meaning of pranking. He liked jokes, alright. He enjoyed dry humour like sarcasm or puns, but he never understood pranks as jokes.

Perhaps that was why he was kinda the twins’ favourite victim when it came to their pranks.

Either way, Percy was mostly tired whenever he returned from work and became more unsociable. 

Something his siblings decided to take in their hands.

“Is there a reason why all of you have gathered in my room?” Percy asked and eyed the guests. The twins sat in a pair of chairs, Ron was leaning against a wall with hands in his pockets, Hermione and Ginny sat on his bed and Bill was in the middle of the room, standing up with crossed arms.

“This is an intervention, Percy.”

Percy narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been really distant since you started to work at that Magnus place.” Bill said. “We want to make sure you are alright.”

“I’m perfectly swell.” Percy said dryly. “Now, may I get back to work-”

“Are you serious?” Ron suddenly said. “You just got home from work and you’re gonna keep going?”

“There is too much to do, Ronald. Along with transcribing the statements, the entire archive needs to be properly labelled, sorted and most importantly, tidied up!” Percy snapped. 

“Percy…this isn’t healthy.” Bill started.

The archivist scoffed. “When is anything I do considered healthy?” He said. “I’m fine, I’m sure everything will be perfectly settled soon. It’s not like I can use magic to clean up the archives.”

As soon as he said that, an idea formed in his head. But Bill continued and Percy struggled to keep his attention on him.

“-and you work late hours as well. Never mind the fact Mum is constantly worried, but there are different things out there now. We don’t even know where you are!”

“The Magnus Institute is in London, so I am never far away-”

“Yes, but where in London?” Bill sighed frustrated. “In case you didn’t notice, London is bigger than you think.”

“I have realised it perfectly well, Bill. And for a matter of fact, it’s located by the riverbank in Chelsea.”

“Chelsea, you say?”

Percy interrupted his mild argument (they weren’t fighting yet ) and looked at Hermione. Ginny looked at her as well, curious. 

“Yes, the Magnus Institute is located there. Originally, it was established in Edinburgh, 1818. But it was eventually relocated to Chelsea in 1841-what’s the matter?”

As soon as he had mentioned the Magnus Institute, Hermione’s expression changed from curiosity to something that looked like…not fear, but not concern either. It was something else, an expression Percy couldn’t place.

Hermione bit her lower lip. “You have never said you worked for the Magnus Institute.”

“I fail to see why that is of any importance.” Percy said stiffly. “It’s a place of academia, scholars-”

“There are just rumours about that place.” Hermione blurted out. “It’s obviously a Muggle institute, but weird things happen to Muggles and they go to that place and make some kind of statement.”

“As my reserve archivists say, alleged things are happening to them.” Percy responded. “I have checked the statements for anything that might expose our world, but I can assure you that we are quite safe.”

“My uncle made a statement when I was little.” Hermione said and crossed her arms. “He still suffers from nightmares. I don’t know what he experienced, but he keeps muttering about being watched. He made a statement and he is still like that, all paranoid and nearly crazy. And he is a muggle.”

“Well, I don’t see what I could possibly have to do with that.” Percy snapped. “I don’t know what you want me to do?!”

“Well, get home on time-” Fred started.

“And eat dinner-” George continued.

“And stop pushing us away!” Ginny finished, she looked rather cross with him. “You’ve changed, you weren’t even like this in your seventh year! We actually saw you eat and sleep back then.”

Percy sighed, irritated. “I’m under a lot of pressure, being an archivist is more of a demanding job than I thought. Now, can I please rest before dinner? I’m tired.”

For his siblings (and friend), it dawned on them that they wouldn’t get any further than this with Percy. Hermione and Ron were a little on edge, but granted as the current circumstances about their friend. 

Bill stopped by the door, the last one to exit. “You know they care about you. You’re not usually reclusive like this.”

His elder brother left and Percy was alone in his room. He scoffed and shook his head. “Intervention…more like a reason to complain about me in front of my eyes.” He muttered to himself. 

He has never looked good in his brothers’ books and now it seemed like Ginny was following them as well. His only sister, the one he had hoped would stay by his side, had now left for the more exciting brothers.

‘No one ever stays by my side…’ Percy thought for himself, depressed.

But for some reason, a vivid mental image of his reserve archivist and assistant came into view. Jon, Martin, Tim and Sasha…he had them.

Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place on August 6th. Percy remembers the date, because Fred and George thought it would be funny to “borrow” a statement from him and as it turns out, they came to regret it since it wasn’t exactly a child friendly statement. Or even a teenage-friendly one, for that matter.

“Can’t you two get it in your thick skulls that I can’t afford to lose them?!” Percy barked at them, furious with their antics. “It was fine if you had fun with me when I was at the Ministry, but not anymore! This is a Muggle institute! What do you think Mr Bouchard would say if I lost the only known copy of a statement to my two idiot twin brothers?!”

But the more odd thing was the twins seemed genuinely surprised at his anger. Percy supposed that he had been far too patient with them, but there was just something about the statements that he didn’t want them to see.

Besides, he felt strangely drawn to the statements. Almost in a possessive way.

That was a little alarming.

Percy sat by his desk and just finished recording the statement in the tape recorder. He sighed. ‘I need to apologise to them, I didn’t mean to lose my temper like that. Come to think of it, I don’t usually yell at them like that. A good scolding, perhaps. But not a flatout rage.’ He thought to himself.

He made his resolve and he had just risen up from his desk when the floor nearly shook and he could hear someone screaming in the same “flatout rage” as he did previously that day.

Percy staggered, he was still out of it from the statement and the angered shouts shocked him. “What on earth…?”

That voice…it was familiar.

Percy opened his bedroom door and heard the yelling become louder, it came from the floor beneath him. The doors were closed shut, but now he could clearly hear Harry Potter’s voice, raging about how the past few months had been like and all the things he had experienced since his first year.

‘Merlin, no wonder he explodes like that.’ Percy thought to himself, concerned. ‘I admit I didn’t know any details of his yearly adventures, but still…’

Percy then got an idea. He walked back to his room and dug up his cauldron from his school years. A cauldron was multifunctional, after all and since the kitchen was off limits because of another Order meeting, he decided that he could make some tea in the old-fashioned way.

He got a fire started beneath his cauldron, letting water boil while he dug up a small package of tea. “Looks like I’ll put this to good use, Martin…” He mumbled for himself.

In the meantime, the younger Weasleys and Hermione were telling Harry of what had happened while he was isolated at Privet Drive, Surrey.

After they managed to calm him down, of course.

“Charlie’s in the Order too,” said George, “but he’s still in Romania, Dumbledore wants as many foreign wizards brought in as possible, so Charlie’s trying to make contacts on his days off.” 

“Couldn’t Percy do that?” Harry asked. The last he had heard, the third Weasley brother was working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic. 

At these words all the Weasleys and Hermione exchanged significant looks.

“Well, about that…” Ron started. “We don’t really talk about Percy and the Ministry anymore. At least not in the same sentence.”

“Why not?”

Hermione inhaled sharply. “Percy got fired. This June.”

“What?”

Ginny scoffed. “The idiot Fudge gave him a promotion, but Percy is too smart for that. I bet he saw straight through the git. Percy turned it down and then he was fired on the spot!”

Harry tried to make sense of it. It didn’t. “But…I thought he had worked the hardest to get to the Ministry and he was just fired, just like that?”

“Apparently.” Hermione affirmed. “But then the strangest thing happened, just hours after he was fired and he left the Ministry-”

“He found some Muggle institute-” Fred began.

“And then he was offered a job.” George continued.

“Just like that.” Fred assisted.

“And he took it.” And George finished.

Harry tried to make sense of it. “So Percy got fired on the spot from Fudge, he left the Ministry and somehow, he found a new job in a Muggle institute?” Harry concluded. “Does he like it?”

“More like he’s in love with it.”

George nodded. “It’s like the whole Mr Crouch thing all over again, except it’s a Mr Bouchard and the bloke is a Muggle.”

“I’m more concerned about one thing; what made Percy go to the Magnus Institute in the first place.” Hermione said then, she was frowning in deep thought. “The institute is by Thames Embankment and the Ministry is in Westminster. It’s at least thirty minutes by foot and Percy isn’t familiar with any other place in London before then.”

“What kind of institute is it?”

“Some sort of library, except they study the paranormal.” Ginny responded. “You should’ve heard Percy that evening, he was so excited and started to flap his hands in the usual way. Remember when he was fixated on the cauldron bottoms last summer? It was like that, but ten times more.”

Harry thought for a while. “Percy has never shown any interest in working in the Muggle world, though.”

“I reckon he had enough with our world.” Ron shrugged. “Can’t really blame him, with the whole thing with Crouch and then Fudge.”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t snapped yet.” Ginny agreed.

“Mum wasn’t that thrilled with him working with Muggle all day long.” Ron added. “Dad approved, of course. You know how Dad is. But maybe Percy needs a break from the magic world, what do I know?”

“And I appreciate it if you don’t gossip about me behind my back.”

Everyone jumped and there, leaning against a wall, was Percy with crossed arms and a very irritated expression. No one had heard him enter at all!

“Did you just apparate?” Ron asked in an accusing tone.

“Yes. I have practised a lot, so I can apparate without a sound now.” Percy said. “And I made tea.” He gestured to a side table next to him, with cups filled with steaming tea. “It helps when you are upset.”

“I wasn’t upset!” Harry protested.

“Yes, you were.” Percy said calmly.

“How did you make tea, they have the Order meeting downstairs?” Ron insisted.

“I still have my cauldron from my school years. Perhaps you haven’t thought of it yet, but a cauldron is very multifunctional.” The archivist remarked. “In any event, I’m happy to tell you about what led me to working in a Muggle institute.”

So Percy sat down and told what happened that day. Fudge’s offer of promotion, Percy’s conflicting thoughts about and how he eventually turned it down, resulted in the minister instantly dismissing him. Then how he found the institute when he was walking around London, in a shocked daze and met the enigmatic Mr Bouchard who gave him a tour of the place. And then, the open position of an archivist, how he went on the job interview for it and he was accepted.

Percy left out the strange memory that was dug up during the interview, though.

“Do you like it?” Harry then asked.

“Actually, I do. If we disregard the fact that the archives are in disarray and we need to organise everything, I really do like it. I’m comfortable with stable work hours, I have four good co-workers and I research information in statements. And there is access to the institute library. Oh, it’s so much better than the Ministry could ever offer me!” He paced around as he kept talking about the Institute. “And Mr Bouchard…he is truly a man of decorum, but also of sincerity and understanding! When I’m at work, it nearly feels like home. It feels like I was meant to come to the Magnus Institute!”

Fred and George shook their heads. “He’s a lost case.” They said in union.

“And how is it going with Mum and your store idea?” Percy raised an eyebrow. “Thought so.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Do you support their idea?”

“Why not.” Percy scoffed. “I don’t believe Mother is so eager to have those two in the Ministry anymore. It’s not all cracked up to me.”

Ron snickered. “It’s weird to hear you saying those things about the Ministry, Percy.”

Percy didn’t smile when the Ministry was mentioned. There was as if a light went out in his eyes. “It’s fine.” He just said. “I just…well. I worked so hard my entire life and it turned out to be one of the most awful places in the world. I keep thinking about where I went wrong, I had carefully calculated my every move and decision, only for it to crumble to dust.”

“It’s not your fault.” Harry then said. “The whole Crouch thing wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know-”

“That’s right.” Percy said bitterly. “I didn’t know. If I had known Mr Crouch better, good enough to see that his letters weren’t right, and told a superior in the Ministry, then maybe things wouldn't have gone so awful. That is what I kept hearing during my inquiries all the time. I managed the whole department for nearly a year and then, I was thrown under the bus and made the scapegoat. So much for hard work…”

It was silent for a while, as his younger brothers, Harry and Hermione stared at Percy’s back. He was facing a window, looking through it and he looked so impossibly depressed. 

“But…I think I don’t miss it at all.” Percy suddenly said. “After all, I can be myself without being judged for my surname or my hand me downs. I try to not think that it matters, but it seems like in the Ministry…status means everything.” He said the last words in a bitter way. “Besides, I’m happy at the Institute.”

They proceed to talk about other things, such as what the Daily Prophet writes about Harry. But Percy was too deep in his own thoughts about the Institute and the statements. He wondered if anything he had previously recorded could be real.

What if there was a third thing in the world? Muggles, Wizards and…this third being.

Percy decided to go through with his plan tomorrow.

He had been in the middle of a recording when Elias visited him just like that. And apparently, their department has gotten a complaint from Miss Herne. Well, more like a complaint at the reserve archivist, but since Percy was the head archivist , it was going directly at him.

Percy sighed. “Fine, fine… I’ll ask him to be more lovely.” He relented. “Could I please get back to work?”

“Very well.” Elias said and then stopped in the doorway. “By the way, have you seen Martin?”

“Off sick this week.” Percy replied. “I was informed by the pager. Stomach problems, I believe.”

Elias gave a curt nod and closed the door behind him.

Percy suppressed a sigh, he could really need a cup of tea right now. Alas, Jon was awful at making tea, Sasha was more for coffee and he didn’t trust Tim with a kettle.

He cleared his voice. “Statement resumes.” he said and continued the statement regarding a mysterious book called The Boneturner’s Tale .

Percy was patient to wait for his assistants and Jon to clock out when the day was over. Tim was the first one to drop his work as soon the clock hit five. Him and Sasha had plans, such as watching a new movie at the theatres and Percy spent nearly thirty minutes to convince Jon to go home and get some rest.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“I am sure, Jon. As your boss, no matter my age, I ask you to take care of yourself. The archives are still here tomorrow morning.”

Jon sighed. “Fine…but I am coming in earlier.”

“I suspected as much.” Percy said and after that, he waved Jon goodbye. He then sat in his office, waiting for an hour. Then he was absolutely sure that no one was in the archives except for him.

‘I need to make extra sure…’ Percy thought to himself and pulled out his wand. “Homenum Revelio.” He whispered. It was silent in the archives.

He was alone.

Percy smiled and rolled up the sleeves. “Well, time to get to work, then.” 

And he started to tidy up in the archives using a variety of spells to lift heavy boxes, papers flew around in the air and cleaned the floor. 

An hour in, Percy had used magic nonstop and he was beginning to feel tired. But he didn’t stop. He has only scratched the surface of the mess, he needed to fix this. Jon kept complaining how Gertrude had left them with this mess…this was his job, he was the archivist and needed to organise this. 

Two hours without rest, Percy began to feel lightheaded. He had gone through at least five statements today without rest and he was staying after work, attempting to tidy up the archives with magic. 

Another hour in, it was soon eight o’clock and nearly a quarter of the archives had managed to get tidied up. Percy decided to disregard Gertrude’s previous labelling and sorted them in his way. One shelf represented a certain decade and every box was labelled with month and the year. 

Perhaps Gertrude Robinson had a reason to sort the statements as the three last digits of the year, month and day, but Percy decided it was time that they start to do things his way from now on. 

Percy yawned and struggled to keep up with the magic usage. Three hours non stop…he needed to get this done. How pleasantly surprised Jon and the assistants would be. Percy would prove himself more than capable as the head archivist, no matter his age or experience. 

‘I don’t want to be a failure again…’ He thought to himself. Percy was desperate to prove himself. Seven years in Hogwarts with perfect scores and grades. Failure in the Ministry. Constantly judged by his surname, low social status, poverty and hand me downs. He remembered all the glances and whispers behind his back, no matter if it was at school or the Ministry.

He was so tired of being judged before he got a chance to prove himself.

‘This time…this time, I will show them all!’ He thought to himself, his desire to show that he was a perfectly capable archivist burned in him. ‘Mr Bouchard will not regret hiring me and I will finally earn the respect I’ve worked hard for! Maybe even my siblings will see there is worth in me.’

That was when Percy felt he had a splitting headache. He hissed as he leaned against a shelf, his left hand grasped his wand tightly (he was left-handed) and he was only aware of how worn down he was. He glanced over to the clock on the wall. It nearly seemed like it was…nine, but the pointers seemed to swim around. 

A floating box suddenly came crashing down on the floor and spilled out its contents. Percy was suddenly aware of something odd…why was he on the floor? His vision was swimming, blurry at the edges…and was that a crack in one of the lenses of his glasses?

The wand was still in his hand and he slowly put it away, terrified that someone would find out and he would be exposed. He can’t break the Statue of Secrecy. With his wand tucked away safely, Percy felt dizzy and everything went black.

The next time he woke up, Percy found himself being a little disoriented. He was lying on his back, on a soft yet firm surface and he felt comfortable. Everything was blurry…his glasses were gone.

He groaned and struggled to sit up. He looked around, squinting to try to see his surroundings. Without his glasses, everything was a blurry mess of colours and shapes. Once he was awake enough, he reached for some kind of side table beside him and found his horn rimmed glasses.

Huh. It seemed like the crack was gone. He put them on and found himself…

Well. He has been in St. Mungos before, when he was little. Percy remembered he was a bit of a sickly child when the first war ended, there had been something wrong with his lungs through his toddlerhood and during the war, he had gotten sick a lot since it was hard to get the medical aid he needed in the middle of a war.

But that didn’t answer how he got here. And why. Or when.

The door suddenly opened and there was Bill. At first he seemed deep in thought, but then he saw Percy and he glared .

Percy swallowed, Bill was mild-tempered and patient unless his buttons were pressed. Both of them had inherited their father’s temper, but once it exploded, it was terrifying.

“Percy, I am so angry at you that you can’t believe it!” He snapped and his eyes flashed dangerously. “I don’t know how you got to St. Mungos or who brought you here, but the last thing we need is a floo call from a healer and saying that you are suffering from magic exhaustion!”

“I…I don’t remember how I got here. Or who brought me here, for that matter.” Percy said, not sure how to handle the situation. “...what time is it?”

Bill sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s 10 in the morning. You have been out of it for a long while.”

Percy blanched. “My workplace-”

“I have already called.” Bill said exasperated. “I know we have a telephone in the garage back home and I found the number to your institute in the Yellow Pages. Believe me, I’m more well-acquainted with the Muggle world than you believe. I talked to your boss, Elias Bouchard and said you’re ill. He said he was sure that some Jon was more than happy to fill in for you.”

Percy let his shoulders sink down. “Oh…”

Bill sat down on a nearby chair and crossed his arms. “I don’t know what you did to yourself, but pray, tell me so Mum or Dad won’t think you’re about to die.”

“I may have gone overboard. I tried to organise the archives in a few hours, using magic. I waited until everyone was gone, so I wouldn’t break the-”

“Fuck the statue of secrecy. Percy!” Bill exclaimed and his younger brother was shaken to his core. Bill never swore. “In a few hours? And you told us the archives are the same size as two floors of the Burrow? You could’ve died if you pressed on!”

“How? I was fine!”

“No, you weren’t!” Bill hissed. “Maybe you haven’t realised it yet, but I have noticed you become more and more exhausted when you get home from work. Somehow, it’s worse than when you managed a whole department on your own last year and you work normal hours, nine to five! Add an excessive amount of magic usage and no wonder you fainted!” He paced around the room. “Percy, do you know how scared we’ve been when you didn’t arrive home on time? With everything going on out there?”

“I-I’m sorry…I didn’t think it would get that serious.” Percy said slowly. He had a hard time imagining himself in Bill’s shoes, even if he tried. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to do a good job…”

Bill sighed and sat down. “Perce. I know you have this obsession to prove yourself, but it’s not that bad to just be yourself, once in a while. I know you, Percy. I know you work harder than any of us does.” He patted Percy’s head gently. “Merlin, I am too soft on you…”

“Are they angry at me?”

“More worried. You know how Mum is. And yes, our dear younger siblings are angry, but it’s more out of worry. You know how heated they get.” Bill explained. “Dad was worried until we got word that you were in St. Mungos. Thankfully, your condition isn’t that bad. It would’ve been worse if no one had found you at all.”

Then it knocked on the door before a healer appeared. “Percy Weasley?” The witch said, holding a clipboard in her hand and she smiled at him.

‘How odd, it feels like I recognise that smile somewhere…’  

“I’m Healer Stoker, nice to meet you.” She greeted them. “It appears that you are suffering from magic exhaustion. Believe it or not, but even a wizard has his limits on how much magic he can use.”

“I have never suffered from it before, so why is it different now?” Percy inquired.

“Well, magic is a part of us just as much as your hand or your eyes.” Healer Stoker told him. “You can’t expect to keep running if you have a sprain, do you?” Not even Percy could disagree with that. “In any event, you were brought here last night at 9.41 and you have been unconscious for at least twelve hours. You are very lucky someone found you or you would’ve fallen into a magic coma.”

Percy suddenly thought of something. “You don’t happen to know who brought me in?”

“Your benefactor prefers to remain anonymous, Mr Weasley. Rest assured that this person is part of our community. It would’ve been more difficult if a Muggle found you.”

‘Someone who is part of the magic world, then…but that means someone at the Institute is a witch or wizard. But who could it be?’ Percy thought to himself.

“So what is the verdict?” Bill asked.

“He can be released already now and don’t worry about the bill, our benefactor already took care of that. But he needs bed rest for the next three days, plenty of fluids and no stress. That is likely what landed him in a hospital bed in the first place.”

Bill nodded. “I understand. Thank you, we’ll be on our way home soon.”

“We have also put a limit on his magic use for two weeks.” the healer continued. “There is a bracelet on his left wrist and remember to not remove it unless for showers or baths. His magic needs to rest.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my little brother will be well-cared for.” Bill smiled.

Percy wanted to sink through the ground. He was going to be under extra surveillance from his family for the next three days.

The first thing that happened as soon as they entered Grimmauld Place was how their mother fussed over Percy, lightly scolding him for scaring them senseless and then ordered him straight in bed to rest. 

Percy was more than familiar with how serious his mother was, so he didn’t complain and did as he was told. He mostly slept, as he hadn’t realised how tired he was from everything. It seemed like the summer heatwave finally decided to have some mercy and the temperature sank to a comfortable warmth.

He sighed as he lied in the four poster bed, not sure what to do with himself if he didn’t even have the statements to distract himself with. He wondered how Jon was doing, with only Tim and Sasha in the archives by now. 

No magic use for two weeks which meant Percy had to take the Tube to travel to work. That would be a hassle, but it was manageable. 

The three next days was torture. First things off, Ginny started to bombard him with a pillow and then she shouted at him for being so reckless before she hugged him tightly and then ran off. 

He never understood Ginny nowadays and found himself sorely missing the little sister who loved to have him on her playtime tea parties. Oh well, everyone grows up, he supposed.

Fred and George had been nicer, for a change and it was a little paranoia-inducing for Percy. Perhaps they pitied him for being under their mother’s scrutiny or about the things that have happened to him lately, what did he know? 

But he was mostly left in peace, since his mother decided some cleaning in the house was necessary and she roped in his younger siblings, Hermione, Harry and sometimes Sirius. He just rested in bed with one of his books which he had brought from the Burrow. That proved to be a smart move.

Percy couldn’t stop thinking about the mysterious benefactor who had found him and brought him to St. Mungos. Who could it be? Only a magic being, such as himself, could know about St. Mungos.

It felt like he was missing something, but he couldn’t place it. It was as if something important was right in front of his nose and he still missed it.

He tried to distract himself with a chapter of his favourite book, A Brief History of Time and he had just gotten himself a little at ease when his mother’s voice exploded downstairs. 

“WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!”

Percy jumped and fumbled with his book, losing his page instantly. “Goodness me…what the-?”

“- COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN’T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE-”

He sighed. Mundungus, of course. He must’ve brought in stolen cauldrons into the house and he knew his mother was already furious at the man, so this was probably a long time coming. And he could distinctly hear the portrait of Sirius’ mother shout and yell.

‘I should probably head downstairs and calm her down.’ Percy thought to himself. Besides, he was going stir-crazy at this point. He decided to dress in a pair of khakis and his favourite plaid shirt, he tucked it in (he didn’t like it when the shirt was hanging loose) before he headed downstairs.

He nearly sneezed when he caught the scent of dust. Seems like they were cleaning out the drawing room. Percy thought that Grimmauld Place was probably a lovely and secure place to live, if you excluded all the dark objects and energy that filled up the place.

Percy headed into the kitchen and filled a kettle with water, letting it boil on an old-fashioned yet fancy stove (firewood was used to heat it up). Percy brought down cups and while he waited for the tea water to boil, he started to think over everything.

Third day since he fainted and he was going to work tomorrow. His mother already fussed more than enough about his health. But he was more concerned regarding who had found him in the archives at nine o’clock in the evening and brought him to St. Mungos.

Who indeed…

He was shaken awake from his ponderings when the kettle whistled and he used a pair of kettle-holders to pour the water into the cups. As for tea, he used a special blend his mother usually saved for whenever someone was cold or upset.

“Percy!” His mother suddenly exclaimed. “Why are you up, you should be resting!”

“I believe I feel just as myself again. Three days have nearly passed and I must return to work again tomorrow.” He explained. “Besides, I prepared some tea. I suppose the others need some lunch soon?”

“Yes, indeed.” His mother said and waved with her wand, preparing sandwiches for lunch. “You remember to not use any magic for two weeks, got it?” She then said sharply. 

“I know and I understand.” Percy answered. 

He could sense that his mother was still angry with Mungundus, so he decided it was wise to let her organise the lunch. Percy left the kitchen, he felt restless and he couldn’t wait until the next day when he could finally return to the archives.

The following morning, Percy was up early and prepared himself for his return to work. A white dress shirt, a maroon sweater vest and dark slacks. He sincerely hoped that Jon wasn’t overworked with statements by the time he returned.

“Here is your lunch, Percy dear.” His mother gave him a brown paper bag, most likely containing a lot of food since she apparently thought he can’t feed himself (honestly, he had to hand that to her, he had been awful at taking care of himself lately). “Remember, no magic for two weeks and get home on time!”

She hasn’t taken that strict, no-nonsense tone with him for years, the last time was before his first year at Hogwarts. But he just smiled and nodded, hoping to put her nerves at ease. Everyone, including himself, were worried about Harry’s inquiry at the Ministry in two days.

“Yes, I promise.”

“You better keep that promise then.” Bill said and crossed his arms, looking very strict as well. “As I said at St. Mungos, there are enough bad things happening around us and I can’t run all over London.”

Percy sighed, fond over his brother’s overprotectiveness (he hasn’t acted like this since…the Rakepick incident). “I promise to not try to put myself into danger, Bill.”

He waved goodbye to them and headed out to the nearest Underground station. He was aware that his family were possibly watching him from the windows, hidden from Muggles’ sight. He didn’t mind, in all honesty. The thought of his family caring for him felt nice, even if he was sure that attitude would fade soon.

Highbury & Islington was the nearest station and he rode the Victoria line to Warren Street, and from there, he rode the Northern line to the Thames Embankment. 

“Hi, Percy!”

Percy had just exited the station when he heard his name, he turned around and there was Sasha with a bright smile.

“Are you finally feeling better?” She asked.

“Quite so, yes.” Percy answered. “How has things been at work?”

“Well, Elias just came down three days ago and said that you were indisposed, so Jon needed to take your place for a few days. He wasn’t exactly happy about it, but you know how Jon is. Anyways, he’s been more moody than usual and probably complained a lot on the tapes.”

“He needs to stop doing that, those tapes are being listened to by university students and researchers.” Percy sighed heavily. “It will put a negative view on our department.”

“Well, it can’t be any worse than it already is.” Sasha said with a shrug. “Anyways, Martin is still sick. Jon got another message on the pager and it seems like it’s a bug.”

“I hope he returns soon, organising the archives is a team effort and it has already been hard enough without Martin.” Percy remarked as they walked towards the big building that was the institute. “I need to admit that I drove myself into serious exhaustion, that is why I was away for three days. I attempted to fix the archives off the clock and it turns out that I have limitations.”

“Yeah, we noticed. Jon was pleased for a moment until he realised that was most likely why you were on bedrest.” Sasha said and frowned at him. “Percy, it was stupid to do all that alone. Maybe a quarter is properly organised, but we agreed that it shouldn’t be at your expense!”

Percy sighed. “I have already gotten a speech about that from my eldest brother. He and my family have looked after me for the past three days.”

“Well, good. But even if they can’t do that, we need to look after you as well!” Sasha decided. “You may be our boss, but you are also the youngest of us. You said that we are a team and a team look after each other.”

“Yes…” Percy said slowly as they entered the archives. “Sasha, you don’t happen to know anything about how I got myself into the hospital? I don’t remember anything more than fainting in the archives.”

Sasha shook her head. “Not really. All we know is information from Elias.”

“I see…” Percy mumbled.

And the day went as usual, if anyone could call it that. Percy recorded the first statement of the day and he had just finished when he added his thoughts into the tape recorder.

“According to the statement, this Harriet Fairchild was accompanied by someone named Simon. I do wonder if that man could also be Simon Fairchild-”

The door suddenly slammed open.

“What the-Martin?!” Percy exclaimed, shocked to see the large ginger man with a mess of hair and dark shadows beneath his eyes. 

A bag hit the desk and Percy then nearly shrieked in disgust and terror at its contents. 

“WHAT ARE THESE THINGS?!”

Chapter Text

[CLICK]

PERCY

Martin, are you sure about this?

MARTIN

I just want to make a statement about what happened to me. I mean, it… it’s what we do.

JON

(interrupts) No, what we do is to research statements. Usually those made by liars and the mentally unwell.

MARTIN

Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?

PERCY

Yes, I can. Whatever has happened to you during this time, I’m prepared to listen to you.

JON

(muttering, interlapping) …that is besides the point.

MARTIN

If you’re that worried about it, it doesn’t need to be an official statement. I just need a record of it.

JON

Fine, you’re right…I suppose.

PERCY 

In any event… (clears his voice) Statement of Martin Blackwood, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding…

MARTIN

A close encounter with something I believe to have once been Jane…Prentiss.

PERCY

(continuing) Recorded direct from subject, August 11th 1995. Statement begins.

MARTIN

Well, a couple of weeks ago, you were looking into that statement about the spider that wouldn’t go away. Carlos… Vittery I think his name was? I knew there was something not right about the whole thing from the off. I said it probably wasn’t natural, him dying and being encased in web when he was found, and I stand by that, though it wasn’t anything to do with spiders that ended up after me. Almost wish it had been. (nervous laugh) I like spiders. Big ones, at least. Y’know, y’know the ones you can see some fur on; I actually think they’re sort of cute-

JON

Please stick with the statement, Martin.

MARTIN

Right. Percy asked me to investigate that flat that he lived in down in Boothby Road, and that’s what I do. I take the Northern Line up to Archway and walk the rest of the way down there…

Percy sat and listened to every word Martin told in his statement, even when it took a darker turn and he nearly felt nauseous at less pleasant details. 

Such as the woman once known as Jane Prentiss, infested and basically a living hive of worms. There was a strong urge to throw up but he remained in his seat, drinking in Martin’s words and the horror settled in.

Martin spent fourteen days isolated in his flat. No one to check up on him, he had no way to contact anyone at all, not even the landline phone.

This was his fault.

He was the head archivist here, his assistants relied on him and he had failed Martin already. Yes, perhaps he did send Martin to investigate the statement, but Martin was so determined to get proof (mostly because Jon was the sceptic here) and he was in danger because of him .

Percy never thought he could even feel like a grand failure here, but he still managed to screw everything up in a muggle work. It didn’t matter if he worked at the Ministry or the institute, he couldn’t do anything right! And Martin could’ve died because of him.

He wanted to scream and cry, scratch at his arms and face until they bled. 

Failure…again. 

Why?

Why do I keep messing this up?

I’m so useless…

What am I even doing here?

“And I ran… all the way here.” Martin finished.

Percy was shaken out of his thoughts, still managed to listen to everything Martin said while Jon took notes in the background. 

“Statement ends.” Percy said, he needed to collect his thoughts for a while.

“Are you sure of all this, Martin?” Jon inquired.

“Look, I’m not going to lie to you about something like this, Jon. I… like my job.” Martin shot back. “Most of the time.” He added.

“Regardless, Jane Prentiss seems to be a threat to all of us.” Percy then said. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to return to your flat, Martin.”

“I have to.” Martin said, suddenly determined. “I don’t live alone. A family member lives with me and she’s away for vacation. I’m just happy that she wasn’t here, the worms would’ve probably targeted her as well.”

“When will your family member return?”

“Soon-ish?” Martin said. “Don’t worry about that, we could probably take in at some hotel-”

“No, I can’t let you do that, Martin.” Percy shook his head. “There is a room here in the archives, it’s well-sealed so nothing can sneak through any window cracks and it’s supposed to be climate-controlled. I will talk to Elias if we can get extra security, but the Archives have plenty of locks for now. Bring your family member here, since it’s just the two of you.”

Martin made an o-shaped expression, surprised. “Okay…thanks. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if you would believe me…”

“I do believe you.” Percy said. “I have reasons to believe what happened to you is true. But you mentioned you lost your pager two weeks ago, right?”

“Thereabouts. When I went back to the basement.”

“Well, in that time we have received several text messages from your pager, saying you were ill with stomach problems. Jon was the one who addressed the issue to me, but it seems like your messages were only received by me and him. The last one, sent to Jon’s pager, said that you thought it “might be a parasite”.

Jon nodded. “I have attempted to contact you, though my calls were never answered. So, if this does involve Jane Prentiss, then I take it deadly seri-”

There was suddenly a sound beeping. Percy realised it was his pager. “Hang on.” He mumbled.

“What?” 

“I just got another message.” Percy said. “From “you”.” He said and began to read. “Keep him. We have had our fun. He will want to see it when the Archivist’s crimson fate arrives.” He read out loud and felt the cold dread settle. 

“What does that mean?” Martin asked.

“It means we need to ask Elias for extra security. Jon, could you possibly do it? I need to warn Tim and Sasha about this.”

“I could do that.” Jon said and sat up a little straighter. “Anything else?”

“Not for now, I think a statement from Prentiss should be here somewhere and I need to find it, so we know what to expect. Thank you, Martin.”

“Oh! Well…you’re welcome? I mean, the whole experience wasn’t really that great.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Percy said slowly. “End recording.” He stated and ended the running tape recorder.

Naturally, Percy would’ve tidied up the document storage with magic so Martin and his family member could feel a little comfortable. But since his latest stunt resulted in magical exhaustion, he was forced to clean with his own hands. 

This might be a huge annoyance for someone who was technically a pureblood wizard, but it was only a minor inconvenience for Percy. He swept the floor with a muggle broom and thought about how wizards and witches were far too reliant on magic, even for the most simple things.

He hadn’t needed to do manual labour since he became of age. Before he became seventeen, he was usually the one (besides his mother) who did household chores at home. He had a morning routine which he had forgotten once he got a job in the Ministry.

He always used to wake up one hour ahead of Mum and went right to work in the garden, such as weeding and watering their plants, then he fed the chickens and collected their eggs. After that he washed the eggs in the kitchen and got a fire starting in the wood burning stove. Then he took a shower and  dressed up while Mum was making breakfast and took over the rest. 

After he was done, he was tasked to go wake up his younger siblings. He skillfully avoided Fred and George’s little pranks in their room and dodged a pillow thrown at him when Ron woke up grumpy, it was far easier with Ginny (well, he used to be her favourite before she started at Hogwarts). 

His favourite tasks used to be taking care of Ginny. Perhaps he was a little biased, but she was obviously his favourite sibling. He remembered how he used to set out clothes for her and clean her room a little while she was in the bathroom, doing her things. He made it a habit to sort out the books and toys in alphabetical order, which she seemed to find funny. And when her hair had dried after her shower, he used to brush her hair and braid it.

…in hindsight, that was probably why he was her favourite, back then. He paid so much attention to her while he suffered from a significant lack of attention from his brothers.

‘Am I really that boring to them?’ He thought to himself, worrying about his position in the family again. He had always liked his books, he was used to following rules (he was taught at a very early age that if he didn’t follow the rules, then he’ll die since it was a war) and he was quite hopeless at Quidditch, but he wasn’t uninterested in the sport. 

He had shared a dorm with Oliver Wood for seven years, he couldn’t escape Quidditch even if he wanted to. And while he couldn’t play the game or even sit right up on a broomstick, he was well-versed in the strategies. He thought back at memories of his seventh year, sitting up late in the evenings with Oliver and going through notes for the upcoming matches, which strategy was better than the previous one, what mistakes they did last year and how to improve the team’s cooperation. 

Percy had never thought that he would actually regard his seventh year as calm and simple, but it really felt like that now. Everything used to be less complicated and his worries were only school-related.

And for some reason, Percy suddenly saw Tim instead of Oliver.

‘Goodness me, do they have to be similar?’ He thought to himself, shaking his head to get rid of the imaginary Tim Stoker in full Quidditch gear. ‘Stop this instantly, Percival! He’s a muggle, you are a wizard and you’re both male!’

That was when he realised something important, to himself, and his heart sank. 

‘No. Absolutely not! I like girls, I dated Penelope Clearwater!’ But when they were dating…why did it feel like something was missing? Stop it. Get your head out of the clouds, there is an actual threat out there! And for once, it’s not about bloody Voldemort!’ 

Percy proceeded to sweep harder and got a cough attack when he inhaled too much dust.

Smooth.

Percy didn’t exactly know what he expected, but he had assumed that Martin’s family member was a parent he was taking care of. He was aware of Martin having a mother as the latter had referred to her when they talked about families once.

Well, it turns out that Martin was very elusive with personal information as well.

It was a girl who followed Martin. 

She was a little shorter than the average and compared to Martin, thinner. She couldn’t be older than fourteen or fifteen, around Ron’s age perhaps? She had short, curly hair that resembled orange cotton candy, freckles on her cheeks and the same chocolate brown eyes as Martin. She was dressed in a yellow t-shirt and denim overall dress with embroidery.

“Sorry I forgot to tell you, but this is my younger sister.” Martin said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “She’s kinda the reason I have been so worried about Prentiss and all…”

“No, it’s okay. I just wish I could’ve known.” Percy said. “I have a younger sister as well, so I do understand your concern. But are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay at a hotel? I could ask Elias-”

“It’s fine, you said the archives are safe and that’s all we need to be. Besides, she’s off for school soon-” Martin said and suddenly grabbed his sister’s hand, it seemed like she was about to sneak off. “Stay.” He said strictly.

“There are books over there…” The girl muttered.

“You can explore later.” Martin continued. “This is my boss, Percy. Do you want to say hi?”

The girl finally acknowledged Percy’s presence. She briefly met his eyes before avoiding eye contact again. “Hi.” She simply said. “I don’t think badly of anyone, I just don’t like eye contact. It’s uncomfortable.”

“I don’t mind.” Percy said kindly. “You don’t have to feel sorry about that.” He extended his hand, letting her shake it. “Percy Weasley.”

She shook it back. “Jenny Blackwood.” She said and let go. “Now we aren’t strangers anymore.” Then Jenny turned to her brother. “Can I go read now?”

“Sure, but stay where I can see you.” Martin said and let his sister run off. “Sorry about that, she’s a little different than most. She’s a handful.”

“You obviously haven’t met my sister, she is the definition of “handful”.” Percy smirked. “Although I trust your judgement. She’s very sweet and polite.”

Martin sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I have been so lucky that nothing happened to her when we were under siege of Prentiss. I know I complained about food running out and…ugh, peaches. But I was mostly scared for her. Jenny is less fortunate when it comes to physical health.”

“How come?”

“Well, you know that my mum is chronically ill and she’s living at a care home in Devon?” Martin said. “Jenny has inherited the same condition. She isn’t allowed to do any strenuous exercises and I’m worried about her future.”

Percy immediately felt compassion for Martin. As it turns out, they were both older brothers like Tim, but still different. Percy was mostly in the background for his siblings, if not a victim for their pranks. Tim put his brother on a pedestal and was so proud of him. Martin cared for a chronically ill sister, concerned for her future.

“So we’re both older brothers.” Percy said. “You, me and Tim. Yet, we are different from each other.”

“I mean I guess.” Martin chuckled. “I think everyone has different methods in being the big brother.”

“How is Jenny dealing with this…Prentiss?” Percy asked as he sorted the statements, trying to find the one with the being formerly known as Jane Prentiss.

“She was surprisingly calm during the whole thing. Terrified at first, but I did say we were stuck like that for fourteen years and after a while, she started to become…curious. She’s always been curious in nature, but this time she just seemed so intrigued by what was happening and I was more concerned about the food intake.”

His gaze softened. Martin was such a devoted brother, more concerned about his sister than himself in the face of danger. A part of him wished that he could’ve been more like him in his sixth year. Maybe if he was a better brother, then maybe Ginny wouldn't have gotten dragged to the chamber…

“Well, I have tried my best to make the document storage look a little more habitable and comfortable, for you and your sister. As for food, Elias has given me permission to use the institute credit card to buy the essentials for you two.”

Martin brightened up a little. “Oh…that was really nice of him.”

‘Suspiciously nice…’ A nagging voice, that sounded like Bill, echoed in his mind. He had been talking to Elias about the circumstances and as soon as he mentioned that it was Martin and a family member of his that needed shelter and protection, he suddenly didn’t seem to mind.

It was odd. Elias had such a neutral expression when it came to Martin, but Percy made a mention of his “relation” and then he became more hospitable. 

“Jenny doesn’t happen to know a lot about the institute?” Percy asked.

“Quite a lot, it’s kinda like her second home.” Martin chuckled. “I used to bring her here when I started to work at the library, I didn’t want to leave her alone at home.”

“I see…” Percy said. “Either way, I need to get back to work. I hope you and your sister can get settled.”

When Percy returned to Grimmauld Place, the house was in full celebration. Harry had been cleared off the charges, as it was self-defence against the Dementors and Percy hadn’t expected anything less, really.

He became less calm when he got to hear the story in full detail, of what happened at the Ministry and at the court. He frowned as he thought about it. 

‘They change time and place and the message of this arrives merely five minutes before it starts. It’s as if they wanted to prevent Dumbledore from finding out. It seems like the Ministry tried to expel Harry as soon as possible.’ Percy thought to himself, as they sat by the dining table and had a celebratory dinner. 

Fudge was paranoid, yes. But he wouldn’t have the brains for that kind of scheme. Someone was pulling threads in the Ministry. ‘But who? Who could be pulling strings at the Minister, as incompetent he is? Who could possibly win at this?’  

He happened to meet Lupin’s eyes at that moment. “Everything alright, Percy?” He asked kindly. “You seem distracted.”

“Just thinking, that’s all.” Percy said and he was momentarily disturbed when Fred, George and Ginny kept singing “He got off, he got off, he got off!” .

After he had eaten (which wasn’t a lot, he was too anxious when he thought about Prentiss and the Ministry), he excused himself from the company and left. 

Harry looked after him, confused. “What is the matter with Percy? I thought he was going to…I don’t know, come with critical opinions about how the trial was handled?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s with the prat anymore…” Ron said and also looked at Percy’s retreating back until he was gone from sight. “He’s not himself lately.”

“He has a lot of things to think about, he’s working at a muggle institute and considering what he did to himself last time, he’s bound to be more tired.” Bill answered, with a little steel in his voice. “Merlin…I don’t understand what he was thinking back then. Percy is usually more reasonable than this.”

“Maybe he’s finally rebelling?” Ron joked.

Bill raised an eyebrow. “For the first time in nearly nineteen years? I can’t imagine Percy rebelling at all.”

Either way, Harry decided to go see Percy. 

He’s been unusually distant and hearing from Ron and Ginny, this was something that has happened before his arrival. Now Percy had kept all his opinions to himself, even when it was something so controversial as the Ministry.

He knocked on the door of Percy’s (temporary) bedroom. “Percy? It’s harry. Can I come in?”

There was silence, then a shuffling sound and then a “Enter.” came.

He opened the door and walked inside. The room resembled Sirius’ room a little, except it was a green theme. Percy sighed as he sat by the desk with open folders with documents and a cassette tape recorder beside him. 

“Did you sleep at your desk?” Harry asked.

“It happens sometimes, don’t worry about it.” Percy said. “Was it something you wanted?”

Harry shrugged. “Just worried. Last summer you had an opinion on everything and right now, you just seemed to have stopped.”

Percy smiled softly and shook his head. “It was different back then, you know that. I’m sure you heard from Ron that I got fired?” The younger boy nodded. “Let’s say that it made me consider some things. Regarding the promotion Fudge offered me…I was tempted, so very tempted. For someone like me, that position is one of the highest, most prestigious I could get, one year after graduating. But something felt…amiss. And I remembered what my grandmother used to say.” He continued and smiled at the memory of his paternal grandmother. “ Watch out for a far too good offer . And that offer sounded too good to be true. As soon as I refused, Fudge showed his true colours and fired me on the spot.”

“I wish I could say that I’m surprised, but I’m not.” Harry then said.

“Considering that he has done his best to ruin your reputation for the whole summer, I’d think so.” Percy said coldly. “He is incompetent paranoid, it would be easy to manipulate him and I believe someone in the background is pulling strings. The question is who.”

“Hermione seems to think so too.” Harry added.

“I’d be very surprised if she didn’t.” Percy replied. “But I’m fine. I believe that maybe I wasn’t suited for the Ministry after all. The only good thing about being fired was to find the Magnus Institute.”

“Hermione is worried about that, she doesn’t think that is a good idea for some reason.” Harry remarked. 

Percy sighed. “She’s always concerned about things. She is one of the smartest I know, but being smart doesn’t mean you understand everything. Besides, I’m not too keen to return to the wizarding world anytime soon.”

“I guess not.” Harry agreed and in all honesty, Percy seemed more approachable. It was nearly as if he liked being in the muggle world. “Do you like it?”

“Well, I could do without the exhaustion. But Merlin, I think I understand why my father adores the muggle world. There is so much to learn, so much to know and still, it wouldn’t be enough! In these past few months I have worked at the Institute, I have learnt so much while we investigate the leads that could led to some credibility of the statements-”

That perked Harry’s interest. “So what are the statements?”

Percy stopped himself from hyperfixating again. “Well, a statement is an important aspect of the Magnus Institute. Anytime someone experiences something supernatural, they write about their experience on a form and the statement is being investigated by the research department. And if the investigation leads nowhere, they are being archived and it’s my job, as the Head Archivist, to transcript, properly label and store them.”

“So the statements can be anything?”

“Well…any experience that classifies as paranormal and esoteric.” Percy answered and pushed up his glasses a little. “The Magnus Institute is dedicated to revealing knowledge of the unknown. And before you ask…no, the paranormal has nothing to do with magic. It’s something entirely else…”

Harry thought about it a little. “Is it possible to make and keep my own statement then?”

Percy paused and turned to look at him. “I…I really wouldn’t advise it. First off, it has to do with magic. Secondly, if it falls into the wrong hands…”

“We’ll just keep the tape here then. I want an official statement of what happened in June!” Harry insisted. “If you take my statement, then maybe I don’t have to think about it anymore and I don’t want to talk with anyone about what happened.”

Percy sighed, it was impossible to argue with Harry (out of experience, he looked after him at Hogwarts for three years). “Well, fine. But you have to promise me this. Your statement won’t leave the boundaries of this place, ever! Sirius can keep it safe, but don’t bring that tape anywhere else, got it? I’m risking so much already by agreeing to this.”

He grabbed the tape recorder and realised it was still running. “Huh…I guess this tape has to do, then. I didn’t even record any important statement on it yet. Harry, last chance. Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes!” Harry insisted.

“Alright, very well…pray that I don’t regret this.” Percy muttered and cleared his voice. “Statement of Harry Potter, regarding his past experiences with Voldemort and the latter’s eventual return. Statement taken directly from subject August 12th 1995. Statement begins…”

Percy returned to work the next day, trying to not think too much on the statement Harry gave (on the latter’s insistence, Percy thought that he had gone through too much and he really didn’t want the statement which left him satisfied in a guilty way) and found Jon already there. 

“I wasn’t aware you came in earlier?” Percy said as he removed himself from his messenger bag. 

“As I told Martin earlier, I have begun coming in earlier so I can leave on time.” The reserve archivist told him. 

“And it has nothing to do that you’re worried about him?” Percy suggested mildly. 

Jon scoffed. “Absolutely not, although it’s a benefit to make sure Martin and his sister are safe.”

“Very well.” Percy said, obviously not believing him at all. He could tell Jon was worried for Martin and used his professionalism to cover it up. “Any luck with finding Prentiss’ statement?”

“No, although I took the liberty to record a few statements. Tim and Sasha said that you were currently on watch, as your health took a decline a couple of days ago.”

Percy sighed. “And I told them to not worry about it. I’m fine, Jon. I just overestimated myself when I tried to tidy up the archives in one go.”

“You are perhaps my superior, but you are also the youngest of us. As Tim emphasised , we need to look out for each other. Especially after what happened to Martin.”

“Is he doing well?” Percy asked instead, he didn’t need to be reprimanded again after his family, Tim and Sasha had already done that. 

“He’s fine. Although I wish he could think twice and put trousers on, if he’s going to be staying in the archives.”

“It’s before work hours, so I believe he’s fine.” Percy shot back. “How early did you come in, by the way?”

“Early.” Jon deflected.

Percy decided to not push it, he had the feeling that Jon may have come in at some Merlin-forsaken hour. 

Percy ended up listening to the statements Jon had recorded earlier, a lovely statement about the Black Forest in Germany during the 19th century. A rare historical piece from the early days of the Magnus Institute. 

The only thing that could’ve made it entirely perfect was if they somehow cut the interruption in the middle of the statement. 

“Martin! Good lord man, if you’re going to be staying in the Archives, at least have the decency to put some trousers on!”

Percy buried his face into his crossed arms on his desk and tried to muffle his laughter. He knows that he probably shouldn’t find it funny, but he had been so tense recently that he finally allowed himself to let loose a little. 

…his coworkers really influenced him to become more like himself. Back at working at the Ministry, he had to force himself to be as professional as possible. And probably emotionless, as well. 

But in all honesty, he had never quite felt welcomed in the department he used to work in. 

The admiration he once held for Mr Crouch had faded when he took Harry’s statement and heard that his former boss was the reason why Sirius was sent to Azkaban without a trial. How could someone ignore someone’s basic rights, even if he was a criminal or not? It went against everything Percy believed in. Even the worst Death Eaters got a trial, but not Sirius Black?

In any event, Percy set aside his thoughts and realised the tape had reached its end. He sighed, replacing the tape with a new, empty one and started to record the next statement on his pile. 

“Statement of Leanne Denikin, regarding an antique calliope organ she possessed briefly in August 2004. Original statement given January 17th…”

And as always like before, Percy was drawn into the contents of the statement and narrated the tale as if he was the one to experience it. He was so deep into the statement that he wasn’t aware of his surroundings at all.

“I went back over to the calliope. There was-”

“I thought it was pronounced “Ka-lee-o-pee”?” Sasha suddenly interrupting, standing in the open doorway and smiling.

Percy jerked awake from the statement. “Ah, Sasha. You’re back early? How did it go with the police reports from the Harold Silvana case?”

“Tried and succeeded!” Sasha said and gave a thumbs up. “They were actually quite helpful.”

“Oh! Well done.” Percy praised her and tried to not sound too pompous (he had a sinking feeling that told him that he failed). 

“So, do we know if it’s pronounced “Ka-lee-o-pee” or “Kuh-ly-o-pee”?” Sasha asked and tilted her head at the side.

“I have been informed by Jon that he has heard it said as “Ka-lee-ope”.”

Sasha laughed. “Seriously? By who?”

“Americans.

“Ah.”

“As far as I know, there isn’t a “correct” pronunciation. But they were originally named after the Greek muse Calliope, so-”

“And are people going to understand that it’s from Greek mythology?” Sasha smirked.

“Jon insisted that employees of the Magnus Institute should at least know that as basic information, but I think he’s taking it a little too seriously.” Percy replied, pondering over an earlier conversation with Jon.

Sasha nearly closed the door behind her before adding one last thing to the conversation. “I’ve just heard it more often as “ka-lee-o-pee”.” She said and closed the door.

Percy then realised the tape recorder was still running. “Statement resumes.”

For the next few days, nothing much changed. Percy worked hard to find the Prentiss statement along with Jon and he was starting to return to his temporary home later (at least he let his family know beforehand) than usual.

His younger siblings, Harry and Hermione were fully occupied with cleaning in the house. Percy thought they did a good job, under their mother’s supervision and Sirius helped sometimes.

Speaking of Sirius…he had been a little moody recently. Hermione and his mother thought he was off his rockers and confused Harry with his father. Percy called horseshit on that.

“Of course he’s going to be moody after Harry leaves for Hogwarts!” Percy had snapped at Hermione. For someone so smart, he had thought she would actually consider an important fact in this situation. “He’ll be stuck in this horrible house. Would you like to return to a place where you were constantly abused? I don’t think so!”

Hermione had scoffed and stormed off, clearly not used to being wrong. But Percy paid her no mind, he had other things to think about. He couldn’t stop thinking about Martin and Jenny being attacked by this Prentiss being.

Harry, for some reason, had found a new opinion of him. Percy had a feeling that his previous image of him hadn't been a good one, but right now, that was hardly a priority. 

It wasn’t until he nearly passed a mirror and had to take a double check. He did certainly not look like his former self, like when he was still in the Ministry. He still had his pointy nose, blue eyes, freckles and the horn-rimmed glasses. But he looked so…different.

His hair, which had been previously kept short and slicked down with hair products, had grown out with lush, bouncy ginger curls and were currently at chin length. As much as he greatly resembles his father, he had inherited his mother’s Prewett curls. He was dressed comfortably, in a knitted dark green vest and a white, comfortable button-up beneath.

‘Have I really changed that much?’ He thought to himself, he almost didn’t even recognise himself! He hadn’t looked like this since after his fifth year, after all. 

He turned to leave and was startled when his foot kicked something. Percy knelt down and saw that one thing must’ve gotten left behind when Sirius threw away old heirlooms in a large sack. He picked it up by the chain (normally he would’ve used magic, but he was still on restrictions) and watched the piece of jewellery dangle.

It was a beautiful locket, a large serpentine-like “s” was engraved on the front with green gems. In Percy’s opinion, it must be far too valuable and priceless to just throw away. Sirius perhaps could do that with the Black heirlooms, but this seems like something else.

‘I wonder what secrets this could hold…’ Percy thought and placed it in his pocket. He could research it when he was alone in his room. He eventually settled down keeping the locket in a small, antique wooden box in his bedroom. He locked it with a key and kept it for himself. 

He couldn’t exactly tell why he felt it was important that it wasn’t thrown away, but he was sure there was a reason. So far, Percy had never gone wrong with intuition. 

Exactly ten days after Harry’s trial, Percy walked into the archives and he was surprised how dark it was. He flicked on the lights and was instantly ambushed.

“SURPRISE!”

Percy nearly jumped out of his skin. “Goodness, you frightened me!” He ended up laughing with relief. 

“Happy birthday, bossman!” Tim cheered. “Look at our little boss, already nineteen and so accomplished!” He feigned a swoon.

Percy put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow. “Tim.” He said tersely.

“Percy~!” Tim grinned and blew a party horn in his face. “You wouldn’t have the heart to punish your humble servant of the day, would you?”

“You okay?” Sasha grinned, wearing two party hats.

“Y-yes, I’m fine. Goodness me…I came in early because my twin brothers ambush me every year on my birthday.” He couldn’t stop laughing a little. “I see now that my efforts are in vain.”

“Sorry about that.” Martin smiled apologetically. “Tim wanted to surprise you-”

“Snitch.” Tim interrupted. “Anyways, don’t tell me that you plan on working on your very big day?”

“W-well, I have to!” Percy protested, feeling his cheeks burn. “What if Elias would conveniently check up on our progress and find us all monkeying around?”

“As a matter of fact, I did try to stop Tim’s schemes.” Jon added, he didn’t wear any party gear except some stray confetti in his hair.

Tim scoffed. “Party-pooper!”

“A bottle of wine would’ve been fine, Tim. No need to jump at him.” Jon countered. “Besides, we didn’t jump on Martin at his birthday.”

“No, he’s way too jumpy as it is!” Tim laughed.

Martin let out a sound of singular offense. “Hey!” He said and crossed his arms. “I preferred to go out for ice-cream, anyways.”

Jon blinked. “You went out for ice-cream?”

“Yes, you were there!” Sasha exclaimed.

“Oh…yes.” Jon stammered and a dark blush grew on his features. “I remember…”

“Liar.” Tim smiled.

“In any event,” Percy said and he felt nearly overwhelmed with joy. He had never had many friends that gave him this kind of attention. “Thank you, all of you. I really appreciate it…”

“You have been working the hardest out of all of us, you need a chance to unwind a little.” Sasha told him. “Besides, it’s your birthday.”

“Well, thank you.”

It suddenly knocked lightly on the door. “Knock knock.”

“Double boss!” Tim exclaimed.

“Elias?” Sasha said, surprised.

“I’m not too late for cake, am I?” Elias asked with a smug-looking smile.

Percy took a moment to let the new information sink in. “There is a cake?”

“How did y– Martin! That was a secret!” Tim turned around at Martin, giving him a mock-glare.

“I’ve been with you guys the whole time, I didn’t say anything!” Martin protested.

Elias chuckled and raised a hand, to stop any quarrelling. “He didn’t have to. Nothing escapes my notice, and I like to keep an eye out for this sort of thing.”

“Well… it’s…good to see you.” Tim finally said.

“Yes, yes. Please, come in.” Percy said, he placed his hands on the surface of his desk and stood up from his chair.

“So how old is the birthday boy?” Elias smirked.

Percy’s brain went into full panic. “Twenty-nine.” He quickly lied.

Sasha suddenly coughed excessively and not so subtly said “Liar”. 

“ Anyways . Somebody mentioned cake.” Elias insisted.

“Yeah, you did.” Tim said dryly.

Elias made a mock-gasp of surprise. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?”

Tim sighed in an excessively dramatic way. “Alright, alright. Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, anyway, look…just give me a second.” Not even a moment later, Tim had produced a cake, covered in green marzipan with a pink marzipan rose on the top, from nowhere. He grinned widely as Sasha added two numeric candles.

And in chocolate letters, the front of the cake said…

“Happy 19th Birthday, Percy!”

Percy sighed, so much for trying to keep his actual age hidden from his boss. To his surprise, Elias didn’t seem that surprised at all. 

“Happy birthday-” Tim began and everyone else joined in, even Elias.

“-to you~!”

Percy stared and his mouth made a perfect little “o” shape.

“Happy birthday ~ to you~!”

Percy couldn’t explain this feeling, it was an overwhelming emotion but not in a bad way. Even Jon had foregone his usual stiff professionalism, smiling and singing along. 

“Happy birthday ~ dear Percy~! Happy birthday to yooooou~!”

It was a brief thing and he was pretty sure he just imagined it, but he could nearly swear that Elias said something entirely other than his name. It nearly sounded like “archivist”, but he was probably just tired and imagined things.

Percy was startled when Tim brought up a box of matches. “Tim, I don’t think those are entirely safe in here-”

“We talked about those, Tim!” Jon hissed. “I do hope you’re not planning to light those candles!”

Tim just grinned. “Oh, goodness!” He said in a tone that attempted to sound innocent. “A source of ignition? In the Archives ?”

He lit a match and set the two candles on fire. “And again! And again!” He laughed.

“Tim.” Jon snapped.

“It’s fine, I’ll blow them out as soon as I can!” Percy said hastily. 

“And make a wish.” Elias added helpfully, not without eyeing the cake. Someone had a serious sweet tooth, Percy thought.

“Alright, here we go.” Percy mumbled and inhaled, blowing out the two candles. Everyone clapped and cheered. 

“So, what did you wish for?” Tim smirked.

Percy raised an eyebrow. “I fail to see how that is any of your concern, Tim.”

“He wished for peace and quiet.” Elias remarked.

“Are my thoughts that transparent?” Percy inquired.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, Percy.” Elias smiled. “It’s an Archive. Quiet is very much the course du jour .”

“Well, after the party, at least. Wine, anyone?” Tim said and brought up a bottle of wine.

“We shouldn’t get drunk at work!” Percy exclaimed and his voice rose several octaves.

“Come on, it’s your birthday party!” Tim chuckled, ignoring Percy and Jon’s protests, and poured up wine in red, plastic cups. Hardly fancy at all, but he didn’t care. 

“Tim, this is really not appropriate!”  Jon insisted. 

“I’ll allow it. In fact! I’ll join you.” Elias interrupted and accepted a cup of red wine from Sasha.

Percy was very surprised at that, he had established the image of Elias as a very proper employer (and gentleman, as well). Jon seemed also surprised by this. “W-well, alright then.” He said instead, trying to ignore how his entire face seemed to be made of lava.

Martin was currently trying and failing to decline a cup of wine from Sasha. They had been working together for two months now and Percy had learnt in that time that Sasha was very good at getting her will through. 

“You do know that there are tannins in tea, as well?” Jon asked while also sounding like he was rather info-dumping than asking. Martin was very surprised at that. 

“We’re not drinking a lot of wine, so I believe you are safe from headaches.” Percy remarked before he interrupted himself, he heard a familiar whirring sound. “Tim, have you been recording this?” He exclaimed.

“Oh! Yeah!” He said in a tone that said “I am not sorry, oopsies”.  “I…just thought it might be nice, you know, something to look back on when we’re all old and sick of each other!”

“Assuming I live that far…” Percy muttered and tried to not think about the second wizarding war. He didn’t know what it would take to even defeat Voldemort for good this time. The goddamned maniac was like a slippery eel at escaping death.

Merlin, his thoughts sure was dour on his very own birthday.

“You should’ve told us, Tim!” Sasha reprimanded Tim, who held up his hands in defence and didn’t seem the slightest sorry at all.

He laughed. “What, are you afraid we’re going to get sued over the Happy Birthday song?”

“Well, now I am!” Martin huffed.

“Ever heard of privacy, Timjamin?” Sasha continued, using one of the many fake full names for Tim. 

“Everyone, don’t start another world war over this!” Percy had to raise his voice over their overlapping voices. “I suppose it doesn’t do us any harm and while I appreciate the sentiment-”

“Aww, look! His entire face is redder than his hair!” Tim grinned. “Are you so flustered over a surprise birthday party~?”

“Tim!” Percy snapped.

“Alright, alright, fine, look. I’m turning it off. Any last words for your future selves?”

“Yes! Fire Tim if he keeps saying I’m cute! I am not cute, I happen to be the Head Archivist!” Percy talked into the tape recorder in the same haughty, pompous “Excuse me, I’m a prefect”-voice.

Tim laughed and turned off the tape recorder.

Chapter Text

“Percy’s been weird lately, mate.” Ron said the night before their departure for Hogwarts.

“How so?” Harry asked, absentmindedly and thought about the statement he gave. There had been an odd expression in Percy’s eyes, almost as if he hated to listen but was still drawn to it and drank in every word.

Harry turned to look at Ron, who frowned at his new Prefect badge. “I don’t know…he just feels different. I’ve never seen him without his face buried in a book and now he’s so tired all the time, but he still gives us attention.”

“I saw you were talking with him earlier at the party, what was that about?”

Ron shrugged. “He gave me advice about being a prefect. He said it’s not just about good grades, but also about helping others in need…”

“You might think that grades have to do with being a prefect, but that is not entirely true.” Percy had said, there was a soft yet proud expression in his features. “It’s about taking responsibility and as a prefect, younger students will look for you when they need help or guidance. It will also be your job to solve problems and conflicts.” He had a wistful look in his eyes. “In fact…there was one prefect I looked up to in my early years at Hogwarts. Her name was Cassidy Mercury and I always went to her whenever I needed help or advice, she was my inspiration to become a prefect…to be just like her.”

“I thought Bill was your inspiration?” Ron asked and out of everything he just heard, that was his first question.

“Well…it helped thinking about Bill as a role model. But honestly, Cassidy will always be my inspiration. She meant everything to me.”

“Cassidy Mercury?” Harry asked. “Who is that?”

“Well…she was Charlie’s girlfriend when he was still in school.” Ron answered and rubbed at his neck. “I don’t remember a lot, but I liked it when she came to the Burrow. A couple of Christmases and sometimes during the summer. She was in Charlie’s year and she was really one of the best. I remember I liked her, she told the best stories from Hogwarts. Like the one with the Cursed Vaults.”

This was new information for Harry. “You’ve told me a lot about your family. How come you never told about her before?”

“Well…” Ron looked incredibly uncomfortable and almost a little sad. “Almost five years ago, she vanished. The year before, they had a nasty break-up. I don’t know what happened, but Bill was really angry at Charlie when he found out. And when Cassidy disappeared, it messed up Charlie. That’s kinda why we don’t talk about it, especially not when Charlie is around. Mum thinks that’s why he ran off to Romania, cos he doesn't want to think about her anymore.”

“How did she vanish, then?”

“Like I said, I don’t know.” Ron replied. “Mum was really sad when she heard about it, she always hoped that Charlie would marry Cassidy. I also thought so. I think Percy hoped that too, cos he was really angry at Charlie when they broke up. I know it was about something Cassidy obsessed over, but can’t really remember what it was.”

Harry thought about what Ron just told him. He had never heard about any Cassidy Mercury before and he wondered why no one was mentioning her at all. Both Mrs Weasley, Bill and Percy had been either angry or disappointed at Charlie when he broke up with Cassidy, but Ron said Charlie didn’t want to talk about her. 

Does that mean that Charlie still loved her? And what happened to Cassidy? Did she get caught into what she obsessed over?

As they went to bed, there were so many things in Harry’s head. Percy’s changing into a kinder, more attentive person. Mrs Weasley being constantly anxious for her family’s fate, the tattered old photograph of the former Order of the Phoenix and its members’ ultimate fates…

And the mystery that was called Cassidy Mercury.

To everyone’s surprise, Percy decided to come along to King’s Cross and wave goodbye to them. 

“Jon is the reserve archivist and promised to cover for me.” Percy responded as he put on his shoes. “Besides, Moody is complaining about Podmore being gone and that you need one more man in the guard. So I thought why not.”

Personally, Harry had nothing against it. Percy seemed to become more pleasant to be around and compared to last year, he was keeping silent about his work. Fred and George had joked that he might as well be an Unspeakable, as tightlipped he was about his work.

Both Harry and Ron proceed to be surprised as Percy didn’t shout at Fred and George one single time, not even when they accidentally bumped Ginny in the stairs with their trunks, causing Mrs Weasley to shout at them (which caused the horrible portrait of Mrs Black shout obscenities as well). 

“I am sorely tempted to paint tar across her mouth.” Percy remarked with an irritable sigh. 

“Please do!” Fred, George and Ginny exclaimed in chorus. 

Percy shook his head. “I can’t do that, it’s not my house and not my place to do that.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Sirius! Dumbledore said no!” Mrs Weasley suddenly exclaimed.

Sirius seemed intent on tagging along and Percy, who hadn’t been aware of the former’s animagus status, jumped when the older man turned into a bear-like dog. Fred and George couldn’t stop snickering over their brother’s shocked expression.

“You were that dog!” Percy exclaimed. “I saw that dog at Hogsmeade in my seventh year and I took pity on him and fed him!”

This made his siblings only laugh harder.

Sirius transformed back and bowed as a joke. “And I thank you immensely for that, young gentleman!” He said before he changed back into a dog.

“Oh honestly . . .” said Mrs. Weasley despairingly. “Well, on your own head be it!”

“Hang on, just a moment.” Percy said. “We need to disguise him more properly, if he intends to come with us.” He said and before anyone knew it, he had put on a red dog collar on Sirius and attached a leash to it.

Lupin coughed excessively to hide a chuckle, which failed miserably and his tired eyes held so much mirth. “Clever.” He praised his former student, once his cough had passed.

Harry appreciated Percy more after his recent display of cleverness. It reminded him a lot of the Percy he learnt to know in his first year. Percy walked along his side while Harry held onto the leash, as the group (ahem, guard) walked towards King’s Cross.

Percy looked less tired this morning, but perhaps because he hasn’t gone to work yet. He carried on his usual messenger bag and his blue eyes seemed more alert, awake. It was a little strange to see him so relaxed, Harry was used to seeing the tenseness in his shoulders and the irritable expression stuck on his face. 

The twenty minute walk to King’s Cross passed by faster than he’d liked to. They walked inside the station and managed to get through the passage at Platform 9¾ without any notice. 

That was when they saw the Hogwarts Express standing belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families. Harry inhaled the familiar smell and felt his spirits soar…

He was really going back…

Harry got a compliment from Lee Jordan, a friend to the twins, about his “dog”. Sirius wagged his tail happily. Percy looked at the train with longing eyes, lost in his thoughts and Harry guessed that he must be missing his time at Hogwarts. 

They were joined shortly afterwards with the rest of the “guard”. Harry reunited with Ron and Hermione after a brief separation. 

The adults (or members of the Order of the Phoenix) talked about Sturgis not showing up. And it was time to say goodbye to them, now that the luggage had been properly boarded the train. 

“Well, look after yourselves,” said Lupin, shaking hands all round. He reached Harry last and gave him a clap on the shoulder. “You too, Harry. Be careful.” He said mildly.

The old auror grunted in agreement. “Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled,” said Moody, shaking Harry’s hand too. “And don’t forget, all of you…careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don’t put it in a letter at all.”

“It’s been great meeting all of you,” said Tonks, hugging Hermione and Ginny. “We’ll see you soon, I expect.”

Harry was surprised when Percy turned to him, hugging him. “Listen…if you are in doubt about what to write in a letter, send it to me. I will send Hermes with a letter to you. Use him or a school owl, not Hedwig. You will understand soon and make sure you write to the address I send from.” He slowly let go of Harry.

Harry didn’t understand. “Why?” He whispered.

Percy’s blue eyes shifted from right to left before looking down at Harry. “Eyes.”

“What?”

“Eyes are watching. Unfriendly eyes.” Percy mumbled. “Oh, and look after Ron for me, will you?” He added in a louder voice. 

But Harry didn’t want to give up on what he just heard. “I don’t understand-” He muttered to Percy. 

But then a warning whistle sounded; the students still on the platform started hurrying onto the train. 

“Quick, quick,” said Mrs. Weasley distractedly, hugging them at random and catching Harry twice. “Write…Be good…If you’ve forgotten anything we’ll send it on…Onto the train, now, hurry…” 

For one brief moment, the great black dog reared onto its hind legs and placed its front paws on Harry’s shoulders, but Mrs. Weasley shoved Harry away toward the train door hissing, “For heaven’s sake act more like a dog, Sirius!” 

Percy coughed. “Trained dogs do act like that, Mother.” He whispered.

“See you!” Harry called out of the open window as the train began to move, while Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waved beside him. 

The figures of Tonks, Lupin, Moody, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley…one last sight of Percy with his messenger bag, waving goodbye, shrank rapidly but the black dog was bounding alongside the window, wagging its tail; blurred people on the platform were laughing to see it chasing the train, and then they turned the corner, and Sirius was gone. 

As it turned out, Ron and Hermione had to go to the prefects’ compartment and Harry himself sat in a compartment with Ginny, Neville and a Ravenclaw girl named Luna Lovegood. His mind was at other things, though. 

“Eyes are watching. Unfriendly eyes.” Percy’s words echoed in his mind. Unfriendly…did he mean the Ministry? 

“I will send Hermes with a letter to you. Use him or a school owl, not Hedwig. You will understand soon.”

Did Percy know something he didn’t? When Percy was fired…it was right in the aftermath of the Tournament. Fudge wanted to promote him as personal assistant, but Percy refused and got fired for declining. 

Did Percy see through Fudge’s schemes? 

The compartment door suddenly opened, everyone’s heads turned to it and there stood…

There was a girl his age, someone Harry was sure he had seen in Gryffindor but couldn’t remember the name. She was dressed in a yellow knitted jumper with white collars, sky blue jeans and red converse shoes. She was fair-skinned with freckles on her cheeks, had brown eyes and she wore short ginger, with curls and nearly looked like orange cotton candy. 

Around her neck hung a necklace with a golden sun. 

“Can I sit here?” She asked. “I don’t like sitting with the others and I can’t find my dumb best friend.”

Harry stared for a moment longer before he caught himself. “Sure, just sit.”

“Thanks.” She grinned and closed the compartment door behind herself. She sat down beside Luna Lovegood, not minding at all. 

“Hi Jenny.” Neville said timidly.

“Hi, Neville. How was your summer?” The girl named Jenny asked.

Ginny quickly interrupted. “Sorry, but who are you? I don’t remember you.”

“Jenny Blackwood, fifth year and generally forgotten among the girls cause I’m neither a genius or gossips about fashion.” Jenny responded with a casual shrug. “I share a dormitory with Hermione, Lavender and Parvati, but they don’t really talk to me. I guess I’m too weird for them.”

“How come?” Harry asked. He tried to think back at the sorting ceremony in his first year and that was when he finally remembered.

The second to be sorted…

“Blackwood, Jennifer!” A short girl with orange pigtails and freckled cheeks walked up to the stool. Everyone waited barely a second later…

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Oh!” Harry suddenly said. “You’re in Divination and Care for Magical Creatures, too!”

Jenny nodded. “I don’t blame you if you forgot me, everyone usually does.” She remarked and didn’t sound the slightest sad over that. “Besides, I guess you’ve been busy with all these things going on. Like the lies the Ministry keeps vomiting.”

It took a moment to let that sink in. She didn’t believe the Ministry…she believed in his words?

“Yup, I believe you. For many reasons.” Jenny said and probably translated his expression. “The Ministry has screwed up at many occasions and their accusations are based on Skeeter’s lies. Not a great foundation, especially since everyone knows Skeeter is a tabloid reporter who thrives on her tall tales.”

Ginny leaned back on her seat, with crossed arms and a wide grin. “And what else?” She wanted to know.

“Your expression when you were chosen as the champion of Hogwarts last year.” Jenny continued. “I learnt to read expressions from my Grandad and I could tell that you didn’t put your name in. Besides, you have been with your friends the whole time. When would you put in your name? No, someone entered you without your consent and considering your backstory, it seemed more likely that someone wanted you to die. And the most likely suspect is a Death Eater or Voldemort-”

Neville flinched.

“Also, there isn’t any concrete proof that Voldemort is dead, as the Ministry claims. Did they find the body? I don’t think so. Besides, my grandad always said that he didn’t think there was enough human in him to die properly.”

“Holy harpies, you are really smart!” Ginny exclaimed, impressed by Jenny’s train of thoughts. “Why haven’t we heard of you before?”

“I don’t like meeting new people.” Jenny said simply. “It’s a little frightening, to feel a lot of stares at me. It feels like thousands of eyes burning into my skin, watching and judging me.”

Harry could honestly relate to that.

Of course, the subject changed slowly to an introduction of Luna Lovegood and Neville showing off his new plant from Assyria. And when he wanted to show its’ defence mechanism, they happened to get soaked in stinksap.

“I’ve been covered in worse.” Jenny said when Neville apologised for the mess.

“Like what?” Ginny asked interested.

“Web.” Jenny stated, not really saying more than that. 

Just then, the compartment door opened and a pretty girl with long, shiny black hair saw them. She apologised when she saw them being in a mess, said hello to Harry and then left.

Harry’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. Of all unfortunate times, he was covered in stinksap in front of Cho Chang, his crush.  

Jenny, however, went for her backpack and pulled out a package with wipes. “Don’t worry, I got us covered. These are cleaning wipes, my big brother packed them down for me.”

Ginny accepted them and cleaned off her face with vigour. “Any special reason why?”

“He knows I will eventually get into some mishap, he’s awfully worried for me all the time.” Jenny said. “I guess we can use magic to clean our clothes and hair, though.”

“These things are very handy!” Neville said. “Thank you.”

Ginny cleaned off the rest of the stinksap with a “Scourify!” and then everything was cleaned off, as if it never happened.

Things weren’t exactly just as pleasant, but they got to purchase some sweets from the cart afterwards. They indulge themselves in Pumpkin Pasties and Chocolate Frogs, exchanging collecting cards afterwards. 

After an hour, Hermione and Ron finally appeared with Crookshanks, respectively a howling Pig. 

“I’m starving,” said Ron, stowing Pigwidgeon next to Hedwig, grabbing a Chocolate Frog from Harry and throwing himself into the seat next to him. He ripped open the wrapper, bit off the Frog’s head, and leaned back with his eyes closed as though he had had a very exhausting morning.

“Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each House,” said Hermione, looking thoroughly disgruntled as she took her seat. “Boy and girl from each.”

“And guess who’s a Slytherin prefect?” said Ron, still with his eyes closed.

“Malfoy.” replied Harry at once, his worst fear confirmed. And he noticed how Jenny rolled her eyes at the mention of Malfoy. 

The feeling was mutual.

“And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson,” said Hermione viciously. “How she got to be a prefect when she’s thicker than a concussed troll…”

“Who’s Hufflepuff?” Harry asked.

“Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott,” said Ron thickly.

“And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw,” said Hermione.

Finally, Jenny spoke. “Oh, so Danny didn’t make it then.”

Both Ron and Hermione turned their heads towards the ginger. “Who are you?” Ron asked.

“Jenny Blackwood, she’s in your year!” Ginny sighed frustrated. “What is this, does everyone just forget who she is?”

“I don’t.” Hermione defended herself. “I just haven’t heard her say a lot, that’s it.”

“Well, you’re the best student in the whole Gryffindor tower and Patil and Brown keep gossiping about boys and fashion. I just like my paranormal books and discover the unknown.” Jenny shrugged. “There is so much we still don’t know and I’m convinced it’s out there, waiting for me to discover all the truth there is to know about.”

Something clicked in Harry's mind. “You don’t happen to know about the Magnus Institute in London then?”

Jenny instantly brightened up. “Of course I do!” She exclaimed. “My big brother works there! And his boss is the one who taught me all about it!” She started to dig in her backpack and pulled out a large book.

It was bound in green faux leather and the back of the hardcover was decorated with a big, wide open eye in golden ink.

“Bloody hell, that’s creepy!” Ron exclaimed and shuddered.

Jenny inspected her book and seemed confused. “Why?”

“It stares at me!”

“So? It's just an eye. It doesn’t really harm you.” Jenny said.

Nevertheless, they kept talking about subjects that were bound to change. Such as what a horrible date Ron was for Padma Patil, a discussion about alleged abuse of power when it came to prefects giving out detentions and a certain article in Luna’s magazine…which Hermione openly displayed her disdain over and Luna becoming cold to her, since her family owns the magazine.

It was a tense silence until the compartment door opened again. 

“Oh, I thought something was stinking.” Jenny suddenly exclaimed. “Dear me, who could it be?”

Malfoy, who was on the verge of gloating to Harry, looked over at her and narrowed his eyes. “Blackwood.” He sneered.

“Malfoy.” Jenny responded coldly.

Harry found it shocking that Jenny’s previous tone, a warm, friendly one, had been replaced with an attitude that was colder than ice. 

“Heard that you’re prefect. It’s a sad day when Professor Snape has officially gone insane.” Jenny smirked without any goodwill and crossed her arms. “Such a pity. ”

“Watch it, Blackwood.” Malfoy threatened her. “Or I’ll give you detention.”

“Oh, I am quivering with fear.” The ginger drawled.

Malfoy turned to Harry and gave him a smug smirk.

“What?” Harry said annoyed at him. 

“Manners, Potter, or I’ll have to give you a detention,” drawled Malfoy, whose sleek blond hair and pointed chin were just like his father’s. “You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, “but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone.”

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Jenny and Neville laughed. Malfoy’s lip curled.

“Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?” he asked.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” said Hermione sharply.

“I seem to have touched a nerve,” said Malfoy, smirking. “Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I’ll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line.”

“What makes you think that?” Jenny suddenly asked and stood up, facing Malfoy. “What makes you think he is second best to Weasley, as you say? You are really that stupid, aren’t you?”

Malfoy’s eyes glared vehemently at Jenny, but she didn’t falter. Crabbe and Goyle behind him cracked knuckles. She still didn’t back down.

Harry reached to his pocket, holding his wand in case they would do something against Jenny…

“You are infuriating, Blackwood.” Malfoy sneered.

“And you are an idiot.” Jenny replied. “And I like being infuriating since it’s better than being a big idiot with daddy issues.”

Malfoy scoffed at her. Malfoy gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering in his wake. Hermione slammed the compartment door behind them and turned to look at Harry, who knew at once that she, like him, had registered what Malfoy had said and been just as unnerved by it.

Dogging your footsteps, he said…

“That was bloody amazing!” Ron said to Jenny, whose warm smile returned out of nowhere.

“I’ve dealt with that idiot for five years now. Besides, my grandad taught me how to fight enemies with words.” She smiled, obviously proud of herself. “He always told me to be proud of who I am and never back down. I’m a Blackwood, we are quite the stubborn lot!”

Even though Harry was worrying for Sirius for the moment, he had a feeling they may have found a very good friend in Jenny. 

After a start-of-the-term feast that was very different from the previous ones, that pink toad-like new professor from the Ministry and a quarrel with Seamus, harry finally discovered a familiar owl perched outside the dormitory window.

“Hermes?” Harry muttered and opened the window, letting the owl inside. Hermes took a turn around the dormitory before landing gracefully at his bed, extending its’ leg where a letter was tied. 

Harry took it immediately and opened it. He absentmindedly have Hermes an Owl Treat. Hermes ate it and flew off to the Owlery, most likely to rest. He supposed Hermes was ordered to stay close until he sent back a letter.

He started to read what Percy was saying in his letter, instead.

“Harry. There are so many things I’d like to address. The first rule is to not send any letters to Grimmauld Place.

 

Back in June, when I was fired, Fudge seemed intent that Dumbledore wants to take the Minister post from him. Which I found completely insane, I know my old headmaster would never leave the school. Therefore, I have an inkling that Fudge may try to misuse his powers as Minister to control the very place Dumbledore has as responsibility; Hogwarts.

 

I recently found out from a friend who still works in the Ministry (yes, Penelope Clearwater, if you will) that your new Defense Against the Dark Arts is no one else than Dolores Umbridge. She was the undersecretary of Fudge and is the one who led the inquiry about me and Mr Crouch’s instructions. 

 

Do NOT trust her at all. Don’t acknowledge her more than just anyone, don’t argue against her. You must play smart in this. If what I’ve heard from Penelope is true and what I fear becomes reality, then the Ministry will meddle into Hogwarts’ affairs. 

 

You can write anything you want in letters to me, though. Uncensored and I will share that information with Sirius which brings me to my next point.

 

I will be staying with Sirius at Grimmauld Place. My parents are heading back to the Burrow this week, but I will stay behind. It’s easier to commute to the Institute and Sirius agreed to let me stay. I can’t in good conscience leave him in that awful place alone either.

 

Mum didn’t agree with it and we argued a lot until Dad allowed me to stay at Grimmauld Place, provided that I keep them updated. So I will be staying at Grimmauld Place for the unforeseen future. But please use the address of the Institute. The Ministry only sees the place as an ordinary Muggle institute and won’t raise any questions.

 

Besides, if my letters fall into the wrong hands and they try to open it, their hands will be burnt and covered in boils. A nifty little charm I’ve found, actually.

 

In any event, please take care of yourself. Try to keep your head cool, don’t acknowledge Umbridge unless you must and try to ignore malicious rumours about you. I know it won’t be easy. But if you need to talk, my doors are open. 

 

Sincerely, 

 

Your friend Percy.”

So Umbridge was the one who interrogated Percy then…

Harry remembered what Ron had said, how much pressure and stress Percy had been in during that time. And Bill had said something about that as well…

“He was paler than snow, his hands kept shaking so he couldn’t hold things and he didn’t say anything to us. Percy kept locking himself in his room and shut us all out. I haven’t seen him like that since…well, in his third year. There was a situation.” Bill had said with a grim expression.

Harry turned on the envelope and saw the address Percy had sent the letter from.

Percival Weasley, Head Archivist
The Magnus Institute
Chelsea, London

He looked back at the letter and looked at the top left corner. There was a symbol of an owl in green ink along with a motto.

Viglio, Audio, Opperior

Harry felt a little at ease. Percy was going to stay with Sirius…Sirius wasn’t going to be alone in that house.

Chapter Text

[CLICK]

PERCY

Are you alright with this? You could take a few days off and rest-

SASHA

No, it’s fine. Tim’s getting me a coffee, and I’d rather get this down while it’s still fresh in my mind. Besides, you didn’t give Martin any time off when he had a bad experience.

PERCY

Martin is living in the archives, at my insistence. It’s not safe for him out there and now when his younger sister is off to her boarding school, it’s easier to keep an eye on him. Compared to you, he wasn’t injured.

SASHA

It’s just a scratch, Percy. I’ll be fine. Can we begin?

PERCY

Very well. Statement of Sasha James, archival assistant of the Magnus Institute, London, regarding…?

SASHA

Let’s just call it “a series of paranormal sightings”.

PERCY

Statement recorded directly from subject, September 5th 1995.

SASHA

Right. Well, I’m sure you know I was sceptical about how dangerous this Jane Prentiss was when you first suggested Martin stay in the archive-

PERCY

Statement ends. So it appears that Jane Prentiss wasn’t the only danger out there.

Now there was this strange being that called itself “Michael”. While it appears to be antagonistic in nature, I believe that perhaps this entity was amiable towards Sasha and apparently myself. 

The only thing that strikes me as odd, more than usually as I’ve gotten used to the strangeness in the statements, is that “Michael” seemed confused that I am the archivist rather than Sasha or even Jon.

That aside, we at least have gotten an explanation to what became of Timothy Hodge. He had disappeared after making his statement and now we find out that he has followed the same dire fate as Harriet Lee.

I don’t know what to make of this “Michael”, but I am inclined to be grateful for their help and especially since they have saved Sasha from being infested by those worms. Sasha is taking a few days off to recover from her harrowing adventure, but I need to speak to Elias about getting those extra CO2 fire extinguishers for the archive. 

End recording.

[CLICK]

Percy buried his face into his hands, distraught.

Even though his assistants were older than him, their lives were in his hands and he was still restricted from using magic (after his latest stunt ended up in magical exhaustion).

Without his magic, he was just Percy. He was thin, weak and couldn’t fight for his own life. He wasn’t like his brothers, who had quick reflexes and physical strength from their Quidditch practices. 

All he had was his brain.

Jon, Tim, Sasha and Martin…their lives were in his hands. How was he supposed to protect them when he couldn’t even protect himself?

‘Out of all my siblings…I am the most helpless.’ He thought to himself bitterly. He had always prided himself on his intelligence, but he couldn’t save his friends with only his intelligence alone. 

Bill was fast and resourceful, he always had a plan. Charlie was the strongest of them all, he dealt with dragons on a regular basis and he was the best Quidditch player in Gryffindor before Harry turned up. The twins were unpredictable and had a strong aim, they always had an ace in their sleeves. 

Ron’s true strength was in strategy, he beat their father in chess before he was six and Ginny was fierce and independent.

Compared to his six siblings, Percy was the weakest…physically, at least. He had a hard time to believe that anyone would ever depend on him. Suddenly it started to make sense why no one ever listened to him or even took him seriously.

There was nothing appealing to him. He was plain, he was boring and he was passionate about the wrong things. No one cared about if he wanted to talk about cauldron bottoms or broomstick regulations. 

Well…he always had the archives and his co-workers. But he was pretty sure they would leave him, if they ever knew who he was. 

Clink.

Percy looked up, slightly startled and saw Martin with a cup of tea along with a few biscuits. “Hey, you looked a little down and we didn’t see you at lunch.” Martin said and he gave a reassuring, gentle smile. “You’re okay?”

“I feel…vaguely overwhelmed.” Percy admitted. “Everything is my fault. It’s because my inexperience and my inability to keep you safe that all this happened-”

“Alright, that is not true.” Martin scoffed and Percy looked up at him, speechless over how blunt he was. “It’s not like you sent Prentiss after me or that Michael thing after Sasha. And you’re nineteen! You are doing much better than anyone expects and you work so hard all the time! You’re staying longer than Jon and that speaks levels.”

Percy shook his head. “No, I’ve just caused more trouble than I’m worth. I’m a prat, I’m boring and I’m passionate about the wrong things! The only reason why Prentiss attacked you at all was because of me! How can you even still like me, after all of this?”

Martin looked very unimpressed and crossed his arms. It never hit Percy who tall Martin was until now (he’s like to think himself as average tall ). “Okay, look. That wasn’t your fault at all. Did you tell Prentiss to terrorise me?”

“No…”

“There you go. And did you send that Michael thing after Sasha?”

“No, but-”

“Great. None of this is your fault then!” Martin concluded. “And I don’t think you’re a prat or boring at all. I’m passionate about the “wrong things” too.”

Percy bristled. “The most exciting thing I ever had to talk about was about the thickness of…ah, pot bottoms.” 

Martin shrugged. “It’s important, though. If you cook with a pot that has too thin bottom, it will leak and that isn’t a safe thing, really. The content just leaks out to the stove and what if it’s a gas stove you’re using?”

“Exactly!” Percy sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Too thin bottoms means that it will eventually crack under the heat and the content will spill out! Would you like to have a scalding hot potio-er, soup on yourself? I don’t think so!”

Percy had never met someone who actually took him seriously whenever he was passionate about something. 

“I like knitting, in fact.” Martin said. “You see this jumper?” He gestured to the pink knitted jumper he wore. “I’ve knitted it myself!”

“Goodness, that is amazing!” Percy exclaimed and looked closer at the knitted jumper. The handiwork was lovely and the knitting pattern was flawless. The only other person he knew to knit like this was his mother. “How long have you been doing this?”

Martin smiled, but his cheeks were flushed by the praise. “Well, I sorta started when I was twelve. Jenny always said she was cold and her old jumpers from secondhand stores weren't really in great shape, so I decided to make one for her. And she loved them so much, so I just…kept going.”

“So the yellow knitted jumper she always wears-”

“I made it.” Martin finished. 

“She must really love you, given how devoted you are to your sister.” Percy said softly.

Martin blushed. “Ah well…I basically raised her. Our mum isn’t exactly…well and Jenny was just two when our dad left us, so I have taken care of her my whole life. It felt strange to send her off to school and I need to wait for summer to see her again.”

Percy pondered over it. “Huh. It seems like sending children to boarding schools is a popular choice now.”

“Oh well, she’s kinda special.” Martin chuckled. “She is a little different than me, she just thinks in a different way. But I don’t mind.”

‘Like me, I guess.’ Percy thought, he tried and failed to not feel jealous of Martin and his close bond with his sister.

He would’ve made a deal with the devil itself if it meant he would have his siblings’ love and respect.

This place doesn’t even count, though.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little depressed.” 

“I’m fine, Bill.”

Bill frowned. “Are you sure? I could always stay here with you, if you need to.”

“I’m fine, seriously.” Percy growled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just have an headache, I don’t need you making a fuss over me.”

Bill has been like this for a while now. Constantly worrying and fussing over him, it felt like his first year at Hogwarts all over again. Bill has always been somewhat of a motherhen to him at school and it was frustrating to the point he were actively hiding from him in the library.

He wished his siblings would respect him, yes. But not constantly badgering him as if he were a helpless child, it was embarrassing.

Today, his parents and Bill were returning to the Burrow and he would stay with Sirius in Grimmauld Place.

(Something just told him that Sirius needed someone sane to talk to. Like an inner intuition.)

Honestly, everyone except Dad was making such a fuss over it.

“Oh, Percy, dear.” His mother said. “Are you absolutely sure-”

“Yes, I am.” He said.

“You can still change your mind.”

“And I won’t.” Percy clarified. “Mother, I know this isn’t exactly ideal. But I can count up all the pros and cons of my decision to stay. First off, I have a calm, quiet place so I can work. Sirius will have company and someone sane to speak to. I’ll learn independence and I have access to the safer books of his library.”

Sirius nodded, in a slightly better mood than a couple of weeks ago (around the time Harry and the others left for school). “Molly, I can look after him if you’re that worried.”

“And that won’t be necessary at all.” Percy shot back.

“Good, so you know how to handle yourself when you collapse from magical exhaustion again or work yourself to death?” Sirius said with a raised eyebrow.

“That was just one time.” Percy said and tried to sound unbothered, but his cheeks and his ears burned with embarrassment.

“Molly dearest, it isn’t as if Sirius would let Percy work himself to death or starve himself.” Dad said and Percy felt grateful for his intervention. “Even if Percy is somewhat both smart and daft.”

And he wasn’t so grateful anymore. Percy crossed his arms and scoffed, even if he knew his father was right. 

He was probably the only one who could see that Percival Weasley was not perfect.

“Anyways, I will keep an eye on the boy if you are so worried.” Sirius comforted a fretting Molly. “Besides, I would just quick-Floo if something happened.”

“Nothing is going to happen and no one needs to worry!” Percy snapped in a very Jon-like way. “Besides, I am not a boy!”

“Glad to see that is your focus.” Sirius teased. “I really appreciate your stay, though.”

Bill suddenly stepped forward with a note. “I don’t know if you’ll find it useful, but here is the phone number to the Burrow. We have one in the garage. And beneath is the mailing address to my workplace, just in case.”

Percy groaned and buried his face in his hands, for the tenth time this week. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by all the fear and worms and what else going on in the Archives, he felt embarrassed by his overbearing older brother.

It took another twenty minutes until the remains of his family (Charlie was in Romania and the rest at Hogwarts) was ready to return home.

“Yes, Mother. I will stay out of trouble.” Percy said and tried to not sigh. 

For some reason, he didn’t seem to be that convincing anymore. Not after he overworked himself with the archives and landed himself into trouble a few weeks ago (seriously, they need to let it go).

But his mother (bless her loving nature, though) wrapped a knitted scarf from nowhere and kissed his cheeks. “Now, listen here. You stay safe and no funny business. I don’t want to hear that you killed yourself trying to tidy up your archives!”

“Yes, Mother.” Percy said patiently. 

Bill nodded, he had his arms crossed and looked very serious. “Remember, we’re not far away. Just a floo call away. And if you need help, Sirius is there.”

“Yes, I know.” Percy said and started to get irritated.

His father at least had some mercy on him. “We’ll need to be off now, but take care of yourself.”

They were engulfed in green flames and they were gone.

“I screw up one time and suddenly, I’m untrustworthy.” Percy grumbled for himself. 

“They’re just worried about you.” Sirius said, he was more merry now than before. Probably because he was keeping him company here. “So! How about some dinner? You must be starving.”

“I could go for a bite.”

It was a calm dinner, but not overly quiet as he and Sirius talked a little. Apparently, Sirius had been one of the best Aurors in the first war. Percy confided in him about his struggles in school; mostly about being so different from his brothers.

“Everyone expected me to be like Bill or Charlie. They were disappointed when I was nothing like them. Academic, but boring.”

“It’s their expectations that are bad, in general. Everyone looks at your surname and expects you to live up to the name. I mean, look at me. The first Black in Gryffindor.”

After dinner, Percy eventually decided to use the dining table for work purposes. It was very convenient, when he wanted tea as he looked over the statements. No luck finding Prentiss’ statement yet.

The pressure was starting to weigh heavily on his shoulders, he needed to keep his assistants safe (it was his fault, after all. His fault that Martin was targeted…his fault that Sasha was nearly infected by worms…) and somehow defeat Prentiss.

He needed a plan and soon. First, he needed that statement from Prentiss so he could get more inside information. Then, he needed to worm-proof the archives. 

How do you defeat a living hive of supernatural worms that was absolutely not magic at all?

And the big question of all…did magic even work against these things?

Chapter Text

Percy relished in his newfound freedom and being able to do whatever he wanted; stay at the institute as long as he needed and even if he was at home, stay up until midnight and work.

Unfortunately for him, Sasha seemed to have noticed and staged her own little intervention.

“You didn’t leave the archives until after eight o’clock yesterday.”

Percy narrowed his eyes. “And how would you know any of that?”

“Because Jon told me. He said the lights were still on when he left and it was eight.”

Jon was officially a tattletale. And a hypocrite.

“Well, I hardly believe the time of my leave is anyone’s concern, save for mine.” Percy said, pushing his glasses up. He really needed to find a way to make them stick for good…

“It is our concern, if you work yourself to death. Again.” Sasha shot back and crossed her arms. “You are going to take a nap now!”

Then Sasha grabbed his arm and pulled him up from his chair, dragging him out of the office and Percy protested the whole time.

“But the statements-”

“Jon will record them.”

“The following up-”

“We got that covered!”

“What if there is a live state-

“Jon takes the live statements, he’s already agreed!”

“But-”

“No buts, no ifs and you are going to take a nap now!” Sasha said and pushed him into the document storage, where Martin was temporarily residing for now. “If you are still awake when I check on you, I’ll cut you off on tea. Martin has already agreed with me.

That was how Percy found himself lying down on the cot, wrapped in blankets and when Sasha took off his glasses, he had to admit defeat and drifted off to a much needed sleep.

Martin sighed in relief when he saw Sasha return from the document storage, looking like the cat getting the milk. It looks like she finally managed to make Percy take a nap.

He felt bad for Percy, he was just nineteen and he took his job so seriously, working harder than all of them combined. Even more than Jon, which was on a whole new level.

…speaking of Jon.

Martin took the opportunity to slip inside the break room for a little recording for himself. Jon was busy with recording the statements and he last saw Sasha converse with Tim about something. That meant that he had plenty of time for a little alone time.

After listening for another moment for anyone coming his way, Martin took up a spare tape recorder, a piece of paper and he started to record.

“Epiphany.” By M. K. Blackwood.”

He really needed to work on his pen name…

“I was not expecting this.

This was so much more.

You have stayed the hungry hunters
You have locked Death’s Door

For all your skulking, slinking
sneering

For all I was fearing,
I was not expecting this;

For you to step into the light
And reveal yourself

I see you;
I see the lamb you hide
Under the wolf’s skin

I was-”

The door suddenly slammed open. “Martin!” Tim exclaimed cheerfully, grinning happily. “What are you up to?”

Poor Martin yelped startled and was suffering a near-heart-attack while he scrambled to hide his somewhat mediocre poetry. He knew Tim would absolutely take delight in this and tease him until this world’s apocalypse.

“Ha-ha! Hmm! Nothing, nothing– Notes!” He said and laughed nervously, trying to sound unbothered. Instead, he cringed when he heard himself failing to sound like “obviously I have nothing to hide”. “I, w– notes! Yes!”

“Hm.” Tim said, smirking.

“And I was taking notes, I have g-” Then he caught himself, he was really making himself suspicious. “Can I help you?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I thought I’d see how quarantine sleepaway camp is treating you.”

“Oh!” Martin simply said, he was both surprised and pleased to see how Tim cared for him. 

Tim nodded, grinning importantly. “Brought down a change of sheets for your cot, thought you might need it!”

“Oh, that’s-thanks, Tim. That’s really kind-”

“Anything…on your mind?” Tim then asked with a smirk.

Martin had no idea where Tim was going with this, but he decided to be polite to answer him truthfully. “Oh! Plenty, homesick, mortal terror-”

“Mhm.”

“-you know, the usual.”

“Uh huh.”

“I was-I was actually thinking of trying to go see my mum, but the worms and, you know, plus sometimes she can be-”

Tim kept humming in agreement, but nearly sounded uninterested about Martin’s mum. “Yeah, that’s great. Anything else?”

Martin was stunned. “What?”

“Oh, come off it, Martin! I saw you in the break room the other day!” Tim grinned as if he’s just gotten some juicy gossip.

The ginger narrowed his eyes. “How do you mean…”

“Sasha and I were hosing down some of our little visitors with a friendly CO2 bath, and you could hardly be bothered by any of it.” Tim pressed on. “You were just – there, staring wistfully off into space, running your finger around the rim of your mug!”

“I was distracted!” Martin protested.

“You like someone!” Tim accused cheerfully.

And he struck a gold mine. Martin started to sputter and scoff in self-defense.

“Called it!” Tim laughed. “Sasha owes me a fiver. So…” And he leaned closer to him. “Who is it?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything!” Martin scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Is it Rosie? I know you’ve been talking about her a lot lately.” 

Martin rolled his eyes. “Is this an interrogation now?”

“So it is Rosie!”

Martin was bewildered over Tim’s ridiculous conclusion. “That doesn’t even make-no, it’s not Rosie!”

“ Alllll right; alright. We’re getting somewhere!” Tim acted as if Christmas had come early. “Oh. Oh! It’s not David , is it?” He suddenly said, absolutely astonished.

“What?” Martin said in his best “what on earth made you think that?” voice. Not that Tim picked up on it, as he instantly began to light-heartedly scold Martin.

“Oh, Martin! You can do better than that!” Tim said and shook his head in fake disappointment. “I mean, did you see what he was wearing-”

“It’s not David. And I don’t want to do this!” Martin was beginning to lose his patience. “Okay? Now, if you’d could just please let me get back to th-”

Whether Tim didn’t hear him or skillfully ignored his protests, Martin couldn’t be sure (although the latter option was more likely) as the self-proclaimed hottest archival assistant kept pondering. “I mean, Hannah’s married. But that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not her.”

Martin sighed frustrated. “No, no and no!” He said.

“Or wait!” Tim suddenly acted as if he’s gotten a breakthrough. “Are you being so dodgy about this because it’s one of us?!” 

Martin’s brain short-circuited, he had no response to that and this was over now. Couldn’t the ground swallow him up now?

Tim burst out laughing. “Is it Sasha? Is it? Is it?!”

“Tim, I’m literally begging you.” Martin sighed and wished to be struck down by a random lightning bolt.

There was a brief silence.

“Alright, fine, fine. Have it your way. Keep your precious secrets.” Tim said and held up his hands, but he was still smiling. “But between you and me, may I offer you a little advice?”

“I get the feeling that you’re going to anyway.” Martin said in a long-suffering voice.

“Look.” Tim said, suddenly in a very serious voice. “Nobody’s gonna notice you if you don’t notice yourself first.”

Martin tried to understand what the everloving hell that meant. “What?!”

“Okay, look, that came out wrong.” Tim said sheepishly. “Look, what I mean is: Take care of yourself. Because I know you, Martin. You will give yourself away until there’s nothing left of you to love.”

Oh. Going right for the strike then. “That’s not fair.” Martin swallowed and tried to not think of his failed past relationships.

“Oh, it’s true. And you know it.” Tim said gravely.

Martin wished he never confided in Tim about his past relationships, during one of their Friday drinks evenings. “Maybe.”

“Look, I’m telling you this as a friend. Just…think about it, okay? Whoever this is, they’ll see..” He sighed a little. “They’ll see how great you are not because of what you have to give away, but because of where you stand firm!” And he continued. “And after all of…well, whatever the hell’s been happening here, you deserve something for yourself.”

For all his teasing and pranks, Tim was someone who looked after his friends and Martin knew it. “Hey, that…that really means a lot, thanks.” Martin said softly. “I-I will think about it.”

“Good.” Tim said and nodded. “Well, I’m going to head out. I’ve got some books to take back to the library.”

“Take care of yourself too.” Martin told him.

“Always do!” Tim grinned and made finger-gun gestures with both hands. “Pew-pew!” The door closed behind him as he left.

And Martin felt secure enough to continue recording his little poem, hitting the record button of his tape recorder. 

“Where was I…” He mumbled for himself. “Um, yeah, yeah, okay…”

“I was not expecting this;
For the sharp pain of jaws to give away
To y-”

The door suddenly opened with force again and Martin scrambled into panic to hide his poetry. “Oh my god, normal people knock, Tim!” He shouted.

“Sorry!”

“Normal people knock!”

“Sorry!” Tim apologised again, but it didn’t actually seem like he was sorry at all. “Hey.” he was wearing a very mischievous face. “It’s not me, is it?”

“Will you stop?!” Martin said exasperated.

“Because if it is, you know…” Tim leaned closer to him. “Dance card’s open.”

“Just go away, go away, go away!”

Tim laughed a little, but rose up to leave again. “Just putting it out there! Alright, alright!” And then he left for the second time in a row.

Percy was shaken awake by something. He sat up slowly, feeling very disoriented and tried to focus. There was shouting and it sounded like Jon and…an unfamiliar voice.

Shouting?

Oh no. 

“Don’t tell me Jon is taking a live statement…” Percy groaned and scrambled after his glasses, putting them on and hurrying out from the document storage.

Merlin, please don’t let it be Jon taking a live statement!

Percy just exited into the main area of the archives when the door to Jon’s office slammed open and a young woman, probably in the age range of Tim or possibly Martin, stormed out. She was a Caucasian with brown eyes, short black hair that was mostly dyed in blue and dressed in a jeans jacket with patches (that had muggle pop culture references).

He stared bewildered after her and checked into Jon’s office. “Jon, who was that?”

“Melanie King.” Jon said grouchily, not looking up from his pile of statements and the tape recorder still running. “We were in disagreement regarding her statement-”

“Oh my GOD!” Percy snapped and ran out of the archives, determined to try to salvage something from this disaster. “Miss King! Miss King, wait!”

Percy wasn’t able to salvage anything with Melanie King in the end.

He sat in his office, burying his face in his hands and suffered another breakdown (he lost count of how many times he had a nervous breakdown).

“It was a waste of time.” Jon insisted.

Percy growled and slammed both his hands on the table, he had enough . “No. I decide if it was a waste of time or not! Two, there is a goddamn reason why I take the live statements and not you!”

Tim chuckled uncomfortably at this. “Alright, how about this? Jon, let’s get to your office and Martin can make tea for you two! Let’s all cool down a little.”

“I don’t want to cool down because Jon has effectively ruined our archives’ reputation by being an arse!” Percy snapped.

“It was already ruined when we started here!” Jon protested angrily. 

“And you have destroyed the little progress I have made in the past couple of months!” Percy shot back at him. “It’s bad enough that the public doesn’t take this institute seriously. In case you haven’t noticed, Melanie King’s “Ghost Hunt UK” is a popular radio show and if this gets out, the institute will become a laughing stock! And who is to blame? Me! ”

Percy sat down behind his desk, burying his face into his arms and he tried to not cry of despair. 

Sasha seemed to understand why he was so upset. “Percy, Elias wouldn’t fire you because Jon was being an arse to Melanie King.”

“I can’t get fired again, Sasha!” Percy said, his voice nearly cracked. “I can’t handle the shame again. I have already gotten fired once and a second time would be the final nail in the coffin for me!”

It was silent as if in the grave.

Finally, Tim broke the silence. “Uh, boss? You’re okay?”

“...I need to be alone right now.” Percy said, muffled as his face was still buried in his arms. “Please.”

Tim took the hint and ushered the rest of them out of the office. 

It knocked on the door.

“I’m not in the mood, Tim!” Percy called out. He was resting his head on the side against the desk, allowing his glasses in an askew position. 

The door opened and someone walked in. Percy shut his eyes and exhaled slowly. He was just about to open his eyes and scold Tim for not leaving him alone in his self-misery, but he noticed that the footsteps were…lighter.

He sat up in his desk chair and looked at…Jon.

Jon was holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea and some salted crackers. He looked awkward, in a very sheepish way. 

“I…ah…I’m…sorry. About earlier.” He said slowly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Percy sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “It’s fine, I’m just stressed and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in years. Perhaps I shouldn’t jump at catastrophic thoughts, but I supposed I…slightly panicked.”

“If that was a “slight panic”, then I cannot imagine what a full blown panic attack is like.”

Percy chuckled mirthlessly, holding the warm cup in his hands and relished in the warmth. “I nearly can’t breathe, I’m close to tears and on a bad day, I freeze up in terror and cannot speak a single word.”

Jon sat down on the chair facing the desk. “...how did you get fired? If…if you don’t mind talking about it? Actually, I shouldn’t speak of such things, I’d better get back to work-”

“I committed a misconduct.” Percy said simply and Jon stopped in his tracks. “You see…” He set down his half-drunk cup on the tray. “I was employed right after my graduation, it was kind of a program.” Okay, that was a lie but Percy needed to keep his cover as “muggle”. “I was employed in this ministry, in the department of international cooperation. My boss was…one Mr Crouch, I admired him greatly.”

He swallowed. “He was a lot like Elias, only stricter and he was extremely professional. I took my job very seriously and I was excited to work for someone who valued my work, it didn’t happen often that I was appreciated. But…a couple of months into my employment, he was abducted and someone else impersonated him. I was made Mr Crouch’s personal assistant and sent instructions per letter. So I managed a whole department in his absence.”

Jon listened to his young boss’s words, drinking in every word.

“But I wasn’t aware of what happened. Everything was apparently a plot to kidnap and murder a boy, a friend to my younger brother. They attend school together. Rest assured, it failed and my brother’s friend is safe now, but…my former boss is dead. He had fled and attempted to warn the boy and the headmaster at their school, but he was murdered. No one found out until earlier this year, in June. Nearly a full year after Mr Crouch’s disappearance and since I was his personal assistant, I was taken into inquiries and…well.”

Jon stared at him with widened eyes. “They made you the scapegoat. Someone to take the blame.”

Percy nodded slowly. “The colleagues at the department I worked at…they threw me under the bus to save themselves and the department. Then I was fired. And shortly afterwards, I found the institute and Elias offered me an interview.”

“I see.” Jon said then. “But that wasn’t your fault.”

“But I should’ve alerted a superior, that was all I kept hearing at my inquiry.” Percy said bitterly and he leaned back in the office chair. He sighed and felt absolutely miserable. “I can’t get fired again…my family already thinks I can’t handle myself. They’re just waiting for me to finally admit that I’m useless.”

“Have they said that?”

“...no. But I know it. My siblings…they can’t wait to see me fall and take the chance to make more fun of me, but I won’t let it happen. I’d rather jump into the Thames and drown than to let them see me getting fired again.”

Jon didn’t seem very amused at his morbid joke. “...should I be concerned?”

“No, it’s fine. If I get fired, I wouldn’t kill myself. Only pack my things and hide. Probably run away to America or something like that.”

“That’s very dramatic.” Jon chuckled and Percy was a little taken back at seeing Jon smile for the first time since…well, since he met him at all. “Percy, I…I’m sorry for causing you distress. I’ll try to be more civil. Miss King just happened to push on my buttons and insult the institute before we even began the statement.”

“And yet, she chose to come to us.” Percy said simply. “People are strange.”

“Indeed.”

“Is it Percy?” Tim called to Martin from his desk, with feet on the table and smirking.

“ No, it’s not Percy! ” Martin exclaimed, annoyed.

Chapter Text

Percy spent his weekend looking for magic pesticide at Grimmauld Place, because if that couldn’t kill the worms, then he supposed the CO2 was their only option.

He knew perfectly well that his mother most likely brought cleaning supplies with her when they came to Grimmauld Place last summer and there was a slight chance there were some of them left since his family returned to the Burrow.

As it turns out, he was right.

He found them in a smaller, nearly not noticeable cupboard in the kitchen and he would’ve missed it at first glance. One was unopened while the other one was half-full. Well, he needed to come in early to the Institute and if there were any worms lurking (as it has done the last couple of days), he’ll test out his theory.

Otherwise, living with Sirius was actually quite nice.

When it was the weekend and there was nothing to do, Percy found that Sirius was a very pleasant company. And it appeared that he made the right choice to stay behind, once he encountered Kreacher and Percy kept himself neutral.

He didn’t like Kreacher at all, Percy never had the patience for any muttering when he was in earshot. He was finding it hard to pity Kreacher at all, like Hermione did (while he understood her point of view now, it didn’t mean he had to pity someone like Kreacher who constantly called her that horrible name).

“Either speak your insults to my face or don’t speak at all!” Percy had lost his temper and snapped. There was a strange buzz in the air, but he supposed he was just angry to the point that his hearing became odd.

Kreacher then proceeds to curse him, calling him and his family for blood-traitors, how dare he occupy “Master Regulus’ room” and etc.

Percy was enough tired and irritated that he just said “Whatever.” and walked off.

Apparently, Sirius was very amused.

“Nice.” He said, smirking. “Judging from what your younger brothers have told me about you, I’d never guessed that you have some fire in you.”

“Just because I don’t raise my voice to my siblings, it doesn’t mean I’m a pushover.” Percy said with a shrug. “Besides, I had enough with whispering behind my back. Merlin, getting out of the Ministry had at least a few upsides.”

Sirius scoffed at the mention of the ministry. “Sounds like they fuck up anyone’s life nowdays.”

His mother would disapprove of Sirius swearing on a daily basis, but Percy didn’t mind as he considered that he found swearing a sign of honesty. Brutal honesty, even. But he preferred that kind of rough, uncut honesty before the sickeningly sweet lies. Which the Ministry was apparently experts on.

Speaking of sickeningly sweet lies…

Percy hadn’t told Sirius about Harry’s letter yet. At least not about the one addressed to him.

It seems like his future vision (which only seemed to work whenever it wanted to) was correct; all correspondence regarding Hogwarts was currently on watch. Percy was glad that his vision at least was helpful this time, but he was also saddened over the fact that he couldn’t write his uncensored thoughts in a letter to his siblings.

Thankfully, Hermes has been under the radar as Harry sent a letter directly to the Magnus Institute (borrowing a school owl, as he promised). 

Hello, Percy. It’s Harry.

It looks like you were right about what to happen. Ron said your future vision isn’t really reliable most of the time, but this one was right. 

Umbridge is appointed as the “High Inquisitor” of Hogwarts. I have no idea what that means, but my guess is that isn’t good for us. Every club and organisation is disbanded, including Quidditch. So we needed to ask Umbridge for permission to reform it again. But we haven’t gotten any answers yet.

She is also inspecting all the professors, to see if they are up to “Ministry standard”. I’m not too worried about Professor McGonagall, but Professor Trelawney might’ve gotten into trouble. 

I have tried to keep a low profile, as you asked me to. It’s harder than I thought and I have landed myself into detentions. I know you don’t work at the Ministry anymore, but can you remember anything about black quills that are leaving physical marks? Hermione is doing research.

Hope Sirius is doing well. You’re a better company than Kreacher.

Percy’s distaste for that Umbridge witch only grew. Sounds like she’s already ruining Hogwarts and trying to enforce the idiotics of the Ministry on the school. He was grateful that Oliver Wood hadn't heard about the Quidditch dilemma yet or he would’ve heard if his former dorm mate sent a Howler to the Ministry.

Oliver took Quidditch very, very seriously, often at the expense of Percy’s own sanity. He lost count over how many times he was ready to kick his arse out of the dorms when Oliver used to sit up at 3 in the morning, lights on and all, and obsess over new tactics and what else.

Even if they were so different…Oliver was Percy’s only friend and still is, after their graduation. They sent occasional letters, sometimes. Last thing he heard from Oliver was that he was training hard at Puddlemere United and hoping for a permanent spot soon.

Well, technically he had Penny as well. But she’s been busy with her work lately and Percy didn’t want to disturb her. Besides…it felt kind of awkward sometimes. They dated, but decided they were better as friends when school ended. 

Besides, it wasn’t as if he was looking for a relationship either. And then Tim’s face with his stupid smirk appeared in his head…

Percy shook his head, mildly irritated for a while.

Speaking of Tim, a couple of days later…

“What are you doing?”

Tim sat in his chair, Martin and Sasha stood behind him and it seemed like they were…doing something on that big, white computer. 

Martin looked very guilty while Sasha didn’t look the slightest ashamed at all. Tim, however, flashed a charming grin at him. “Playing a game, bossman!”

“Game?” Percy raised his eyebrow.

Honestly. He was constantly working himself up and being so worried for his assistants’ lives. And they just played games.

“Yeah!” Tim nodded. “Come on, this Windows ‘95 has some fun stuff! You got to try it out!”

Percy took a look at the screen. It was…a strange display with darker colours as black and purple and yet, so vibrant with flashing lights inside the screen. The display showed a rectangular box with various lights and shapes and there was another box next to it, with the text “3D Pinball - Space Cadet” and a picture of a little astronaut in a spaceship.

Tim took it apparently as a sign to proceed and then he was playing the game.

Percy had seen a couple of pinball machines before (back when Charlie went on summer dates with his girlfriend, Mum forced Charlie to bring him along and Cassidy showed him how to play games in an arcade) and seeing Tim cheerfully playing the digitised pinball game brought a lot of nostalgia.

Tim’s hands flew over the keyboard and they watched as he scored higher points. When he scored 690000 points, he just said “Nice!” and Percy was mostly confused while Sasha laughed and Martin’s cheeks flushed.

“NOOOO!” Tim shouted when the ball fell into the abyss, he had officially lost the game. Percy smiled at his dramatic antics and looked at the clock. 

“Well, lunchtime is almost over.” Percy said and ushered them back to their workplaces. “Thank you for the entertainment, Tim.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but smiled nevertheless. “God, do you have to be so stiff all the time? Loosen up a little, bossman!”

“If you ever met my brothers, they’d say that this is the closest thing to “loosen up” I’ll ever get.” Percy remarked dryly. “They might not believe it, but I’m more than just my books and grades, thank you very much.”

It was nice, actually. To relax for a brief moment and there was suddenly as if he forgot the whole terrible dread and horror about Prentiss, man-eating worm hive and the ever present sense of feeling watched. 

For a short moment, Percy actually forgot all his troubles.

‘The Muggle world isn’t so bad, actually.’ He thought to himself. He took a brief pause from recording the statements and he looked around in his office. It was suddenly as if he really noticed where he was and how far away from the Ministry or the magical world he was. 

And it was now that he appreciated his father’s overzealous interest in the Muggle world. He had been so obsessed with making the family proud, to make them rise in status and give them the entire world, to make himself recognised and respected in their world…he had forgotten how to live.

Percy thought about how much different everything was now. He was in a work that he actually liked, despite the workload and whatever strange things were happening. He wasn’t constantly stiff and in a bad mood. He wasn’t reminded of his low family reputation 24/7 or how poor he was. He wasn’t in a place where family status and blood status mattered.

And he had friends. It was something he had always lacked in school. 

Yes, he had Oliver and Penelope. But one was his dorm mate and the other was his then girlfriend.

…that was his reason. 

Percy decided that his friendship for Jon, Martin, Tim and Sasha…they are his reason to keep going. He was the Head Archivist, but they were more than just his subordinates. They are his friends. 

“I won’t let Prentiss take them. Nor anyone.” Percy spoke to himself. “I will do everything it takes to protect them. And if I can’t protect them, then I’ll make damn sure to avenge them.”

He glanced at the tape recorder, he was about to press record when he noticed…it was running already.

“I thought I turned it off…ah, doesn’t matter.” He mumbled and cleared his voice. “Statement of Nathaniel Thorp, regarding his own mortality…”

Bill kept an eye on the family clock all the time. 

Maybe he was worrying too much, but there were things he knew about Percy that not even their parents knew. Partly because he gave a promise years ago. If he hadn’t promised Percy to not say a word, his little brother would’ve most likely not been allowed to return to the school.

Percy was special . He knew it. Dad knew it. Their grandmother had known it before she passed. It was sort of a family secret, but one that only he, Mum and Dad fully understood. His little brothers and sister, bless them, would never understand.

Bill glanced at the family clock again. Percy’s handle was still at “work”. Well, it wasn’t even three in the afternoon yet. 

There was one time he had thought and hoped that clock would have an addition. Well, he had certainly hoped it would be that case. But then she and Charlie had a fallout and broke up.

And just a day after their last end of term-day…that was when Cassidy vanished, seemingly forever.

Bill looked at the letter down at the kitchen table, sent by him nearly four years ago and returned weeks later. 

To Cassidy Mercury
Fylke Cottage, Cambridgeshire
England, British Isles

It didn’t matter how many letters he sent out, with only her name on it. His owl always returned back, never able to find her.

What were the last words he ever told her? Bill can’t even remember anymore. But he remembered her words.

“See you soon!” Cassidy said with a smile, it was radiant and she gave a thumbs up, as if everything was going to be fine. 

She had been fine, Cassidy had been just fine and then on the next day, she was gone. Vanished into thin air.

‘Looks like she vanished, just as sudden as she appeared.’ Bill thought.

In this dire state of the world…they would’ve needed her right now. Cassidy would’ve been the strongest asset in the Order, if she was here. 

Bill missed his friend. He used to turn to her, when he needed a good friend to talk to or simply needed a word of comfort.

There was a time where he had been certain that Cassidy had what it takes to save the world.

“I wonder where you are, Cass.” Bill muttered and looked at a framed photograph at the wall. It was taken years ago, when Charlie and Cassidy got their Prefect badges and he got his Head Boy badge. She had been here, spending the summer with them and they had been so happy, dancing around in the small kitchen and laughing.

The photo moved in that constant loop of Charlie wrapping an arm around her waist, spinning her around and her smile shone brighter than a strong Lumos Maxima.

Bill wondered how everything went wrong. 

“You’re not forgotten, Cass.” He sighed. “You’ll come back, I’m sure of it.”

“Where is it…” Percy muttered to himself.

He was searching in a closet for more tapes, his last one just ran out and he needed to record at least one more before he went home.

The closet door suddenly opened. “Hey, bossman!” Tim’s cheery voice greeted.

“Not now, Tim. I’m looking for more tapes!” Percy snapped. He liked to consider himself at an average height, but those shelves were so damn tall, so he needed to stand on his toes to reach a box of tapes.
 

Until it dropped when his fingers couldn’t hold.

“Ah!”

The impact never came. 

Instead, Percy turned around and suddenly Tim was in his personal space and his hands had caught the box of tapes. 

Oh….oh.  

Tim was far too close.

The closet was becoming cramped with only the two of them inside there and Percy felt his back pressed against the wall and his tall, slightly buff assistant was so close to him. Tim was a little taller than him, but he wasn't as thin and gangly as him. Nope, he had to be muscular, ruggedly handsome and that gaudy Hawaiian shirt had to be half undone…

Percy turned on his head, trying to focus on a crack in the wall and tried to not stare at Tim. He tried to ignore how his entire face heated up, the way his knees felt weak, how good Tim’s stupid Old Spice scent was and the way his heart wouldn’t bloody stop beating so hard and fast.

“You’re okay, boss?” Tim smiled, he didn’t appear to have noticed Percy’s shameful dilemma. “A little cramped here, but I got your box of tapes!”

Tim’s face was far too close to his, noses nearly touching. “I…ah, Tim…” Percy mumbled and his assistant smirked. His brain instantly short-circuited. 

Damn Tim Stoker and his bloody handsome face, his sense of humour and…

Oh, sod it!

He wanted to kiss him so badly. Percy’s hands grasped at Tim’s broad shoulders and he wanted to move closer, a strange heat pooled in his stomach and his heart were beating so fast, as if it wanted to break free from the cage of ribs.

.

.

.

Percy jerked awake, gasping for breath and his heart was still racing. He sat up in the four poster bed, in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place and he tried to calm down.

Oh Merlin…it was just a dream. A terrifyingly vivid dream, it felt so real. But this was bad. Very bad. Tim was a Muggle and he was a wizard. Percy was his boss. This has to be wrong on so many levels! Not only that, but they were both men!

“Ugh…I don’t need this right now.” He grabbed the nearest pillow, pressed his face against it and screamed out his frustration.

He was apparently not as straight as he had thought.

Chapter Text

The first thing Percy did was to try to use the pesticide his mother had left behind at Grimmauld Place. Therefore, he left Grimmauld Place at the early dawn and attempted to kill some worms. After making sure no one was around to see him.

To his utter despair, it didn’t work. Instead, the worms seemed more agitated, Percy nearly shrieked in terror and tried to stomp on so many he could. And killed them with a good Incendio , of course.

And then he proceeded to sit on the stairs of the building, with his face buried in his hands and fought the temptation to scream out his frustrations. He still tried to calm down his racing heart, he hasn’t been this scared since…well, his third year.

‘Well. That didn’t work.’

Percy began to sorely miss that time when the only thing he was worried about was some giant ugly snake who terrified poor students here and there. He had thought that after that, nothing would surprise him anymore. 

And yet, here he was.

Eventually, he decided to head inside and calm down with a cup of tea. His mother always used to make cuppa tea, if someone was upset. 

And he was upset.

Not that he was able to tell anyone, of course. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Jon knew how afraid and upset he was, when Percy had a moment of vulnerability. And while he didn’t really have any evidence to support his theory, he had a feeling that his assistants strongly suspected that he was dealing with this worse than any of them.

Percy sat in the breakroom, with a cup of steaming tea in his hands, and was lost in thought. The tea was too hot to even sip on, so he used it to warm his hands a little (he always had cold hands, no matter what he did). 

Martin was brave and resourceful. He knew that he would’ve cracked sooner under pressure, if he had been targeted by Prentiss from the start. But Martin was a Muggle and somehow…he managed the situation better than anyone else.

As far as he was concerned, he didn't think a highly skilled wizard could’ve survived Prentiss. If the pesticide didn’t work on the worms, why should spells and enchantments work then? Well, if Prentiss really attacked them at some point, then he supposed he could try to use magic against the worm queen thing. But it was much too dangerous to do that alone.

And it was that kind of situation that he really should reach out to his family. 

His common sense kept screaming at him that he should’ve told Bill or at least his father about this months ago, when Martin first gave the statement about the worms. But his instincts told something else, that this was something where perhaps magic would be useless.

He felt something slip out of his hands and he looked up, seeing Martin smiling down at him. “Your tea is cold and I tried calling out, but you were like miles away.”

“Oh…” Percy said and he glanced at the clock. Almost half past eight, they would begin another work day in thirty minutes. “Thank you.” 

He decided to not stay quiet, though. “Martin…how exactly do we stop someone like Prentiss?” He asked. “I know I’m the Head Archivist and I know that I should protect you all from this, but just… how ?”

Martin lost his smile and frowned, he went silent for a short while. “I don’t really know.” He admitted. “The worms are the dangerous thing here. We got the CO2, but that’s it.”

“And Tim’s ridiculous plan isn’t helping.” Percy said and looked pointedly at a large paper, which their co-worker had taped up on the wall. It simply said “Plan To Defeat Worm Queen of Horror” and there were only three steps.

Step 1: Don’t get eaten by worms.

Step 2: ???

Step 3: Profit?

That’s it. That was the whole plan and Percy hated it. It wasn’t even a proper plan and Tim just kept it up because he thought it was the most reasonable. Also he thought throwing some humour in it was a good idea.

Personally, Percy hasn’t felt that irritated with anyone since Oliver Wood. Tim made him long back to the days where he was tortured with Oliver being obsessed with Quidditch 24/7.

“Well, it’s kinda all we have.”

Percy sighed. “Martin, if we all miraculously survive this…I’ll be fucking surprised.” 

“Alright, how about this? We kidnap our little boss-”

Sasha snickered. “Oh God, Tim!”

“And we drag him to McDonalds and get him a Happy Meal!” Tim grinned while his fingers practically flew over the bulky keyboard of his office computer. “He’s so tense and I’m willing to bet my money that he’s never eaten any junk food in his life. Ever.”

Sasha’s head looked over the large computer monitor. “How much are you betting?”

“Give me a sec.” Tim said and checked in his wallet. “Uh, how about £4.38?”

Sasha smirked. “Nope.” She said casually and went back to work.

Martin sighed frustrated as he was currently on the telephone. He covered it with one hand. “Guys, I called to follow up on a statement giver and there’s this guy who keeps humming YMCA. It’s been ten minutes now and he just doesn't stop!” 

Tim burst out laughing at that and to no one's surprise, they heard Jon call out from his office (he always kept his door ajar, never fully closing it shut). 

“Tim! Get back to work!”

“UGH!” Tim groaned dramatically. “Anyways, do we also kidnap our second mini-boss for a McDonald’s lunch?”

Sasha giggled. “I don’t see why not? He needs to remove that big stick from his ar-”

“Sasha!” Jon shouted from his office, sounding very irritated now.

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST

Statement of…oh. I-I see…Statement of Olivia Green, regarding a memory loss. Original statement given 3rd June, 1991. Audio recorded by Percival Weasley, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

Thank you for seeing me. I suppose I shouldn’t waste anymore time I’ve already done in the past year and go straight to the point. It all began with a vault and something horrible has been unleashed from it. That vault was meant to be sealed off forever, forgotten in the sands of time,

I suppose it all began when I was in school. See, I went to this special boarding school up in Scotland when I was eleven. Hogwarts, it was called. Don’t bother to try to research it, you won’t find it in any register as it was an extremely private school.

We had four different houses we belonged to. I had two great friends in school, both of them were boys and we all belonged to three different houses. But our friendship was stronger than iron and it would’ve remained like that, if that woman didn’t meddle into our business.

Me, Duncan Ashe and Jacob Mercury, we bonded over the fascinating tale of the Cursed Vaults. It’s a local legend, of vaults that could contain powers that you cannot imagine in your wildest imaginations. We all decided to become explorers of these vaults. Jacob was our leader, I was the brains of our operations and Duncan was in charge of covering our tracks, in case of teachers or unwelcome spying eyes.

We worked like a great team for the five years we knew each other, just before everything went wrong. It was Rakepick’s fault. I know it was her fault and I’m ashamed that it took me so long to realise it. 

I’m not gonna tell everything that happened in school, because it was pretty mundane aside from our little side-project. But in our sixth year, we met this woman called Patricia Rakepick. 

Duncan was the best at potions, so he started to brew a very potent one that had dangerous consequences if it went wrong. I thought it was Jacob’s idea, he always came up with the plans and in the past, he had always consulted me on whether it was safe or not. So you can probably guess that I got really suspicious of that. 

I confronted Jacob about it, but he had no idea. He wasn’t even aware that Duncan was brewing this potion. At that time, Jacob was considering taking on the vaults himself and keeping us out of it, because he had very disturbing nightmares about it. Well, me and Duncan disagreed and we said that if we promised to stick together, then we will make damn sure that we stay together. 

That’s what we said when we were eleven and started to do this thing. Always together, expelled or in death.

I knew that Jacob had been seeing Rakepick since she arrived at Hogwarts for “safety inspections”. There were a lot of safety inspections because back then, our community where I am from was in the middle of a very serious, lethal conflict and it didn’t stop until nearly eleven years ago. 

Anyways, I was suspicious of Rakepick because I knew Jacob had never had any trouble with us being involved. I’ve always been praised for my intelligence, people always said that I was wicked smart and I took pride in it. That was why I decided to spy on Rakepick because I had a gut feeling that she had an agenda about Jacob.

I was very protective of my friends. I guess I still am, even if…well, we’ll get to that.

It was midnight when I snuck out of the Ravenclaw Tower, that was my house, by the way, to spy on Rakepick. I didn’t have to wait long before I saw her walk up to the Astronomy Tower and I followed her. 

Hidden in the shadows, I watched Rakepick when she opened an old book. It was in bound leather, but tattered and it looked more like it belonged on a dump. But she started to read in a language that I’ve never heard before and she smiled. It was the kind of unkind smile that made you feel sick to the stomach. 

Then, she started to speak in English and I heard every word. She was controlling Duncan with the book, giving him orders to brew the potion perfectly. Duncan was under mind control and I saw red. 

Call me an idiot, call me foolish and I will agree with you. But I have clearly said before that I was very protective of my friends and my body reacted before my mind could. In the next second, I charged right towards Rakepick and punched her in the cheek with my right fist. The book was knocked off her hands and I took the chance to grab it. I never saw further than a red stamp on the first page, from some weird library. Jurgen something. But I didn’t take any chances and I burned that hideous book to ashes. And when I turned around, I saw Rakepick’s furious eyes and that awful smirk. She had said “You shouldn’t have done that, Green. Enjoy your new life.”

And then nothing. 

I don’t remember what happened then. I didn’t remember a thing until this year and it was actually Jacob’s younger sister, Cassidy, who uncovered the truth. I wouldn’t be here and making a statement, if it wasn’t for her and I am ready to talk about it, now that I had time to let it sink in and process.

Duncan is dead. He died shortly after I lost my memories. The potion he was brewing backfired on himself and Jacob…he got expelled. He couldn’t prove that it wasn’t him who ordered Duncan to make that potion and he was so overcome with guilt that he let the school expel him.

And now I recall what I did. I had forgotten everything about Jacob, Duncan, our promise and our bonds. And I didn’t even react to Duncan’s death or even Jacob’s expulsion. Believe me, I have shed so many tears in the last couple of weeks.

Barely a year after Duncan’s death, Jacob disappeared. It was a couple of nights before Halloween 1981. To imagine, back then I didn’t even react and it was as if I had completely forgotten the bond I shared with my friends.

In the time before this year, I had lived as if I was an entirely another person. And in the meantime, Jacob’s younger sister Cassidy started at the same school and she had lived through so much hardship, negative scrutiny and loss. I admire Cassidy a lot and that is why a part of me became heartbroken when I learned of her recent disappearance.

Cassidy somehow defeated the vaults, found her brother Jacob and uncovered the truth before she even graduated from Hogwarts. And now she’s gone. No one had seen her since the graduation ceremony. It’s as if she just vanished into thin air.

I fear that one of the cursed vaults got to her in the end. And this time, I don’t think it will release their hostage.

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

(shaky inhale) This hits far too close to home. I happen to know of the things Miss Green talks of, especially regarding the fabled Cursed Vaults, as an alumni of the private school Hogwarts.

This statement was found in the drawer of this desk, a previously locked one. Tim wanted to pull a prank and picked the lock to hide a jumping snake toy, all for the purpose of making me laugh. As the victim of two prankster brothers, I must say the prank idea was pretty mediocre, but I humoured him.

I strongly suspect that the previous head archivist, Gertrude Robinson, kept this statement for reasons unknown. I don’t know much about my predecessor, considering that I joined the institute last June.