Treason - 9

Percy ran a hand through his short hair and readjusted his glasses.

Of course, the official reports that were printed about what occurred in Diagon Alley contained nothing of the truth. Percy had watched as Dolores Umbridge altered all the facts and blatantly twisted everyone's words to fit her own agenda. And everyone had stood uncomfortably aside, allowing her to do it. No one wanted to be the one to voice an objection, most likely knowing it would only mean a ticket to Azkaban.

Percy couldn't understand how everything had gone so wrong. After he'd become Head Boy and begun his lifetime dream of working for the Ministry, everything had spiraled out of control. He'd chosen the Ministry over his family, and at the time had been certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that he'd been doing the right thing.

He'd been shocked and dismayed when Cornelius Fudge had been forced to admit that Professor Dumbledore and Harry had been right all along. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned. He was back, and the Ministry had wasted precious time denying it. After Fudge's resignation and the appointment of Rufus Scrimgeour, Percy's faith had been restored. Scrimgeour was a Ministry man through and through. He played by a clear set of rules; everything was by the book, just the way Percy liked things.

That hadn't gone to plan, either. Scrimgeour had become obsessed with Harry Potter and swaying the public to believe he was doing the right thing. Percy reluctantly had to admit that he really wasn't doing much of anything, however. Then, shockingly, horrifically, the unthinkable had happened. Scrimgeour was murdered in his own home in the dead of night. All the security of the Ministry behind him, and they couldn't even guard the life of the Minister for Magic.

By then, Percy had reconciled with his family – well, with his parents, anyway – and even supplied them with information that might aid them. Percy wasn't stupid. He could see the Order was fighting You-Know-Who and had been doing so for a very long time. They knew how he worked, and they were making progress. It didn't take a genius to see that – only someone blinded by their own ambition. Ashamed, Percy had to admit that he had been just such a person.

He knew Dolores Umbridge personally. She, like him, craved rules and order and expected everyone else to act accordingly. He'd truly believed she'd make an excellent Minister. Perhaps he'd grown cynical by watching the demise of all his former heroes, but it didn't take long for Percy to see that Umbridge, too, was making loads of mistakes. Huge mistakes.

When he'd learned of her plans to incarcerate Ron, it was the final straw for Percy. He'd become an earnest informant for the Order, alerting them to anything that could possibly help them in their campaign. He'd resigned himself to the fact that it would be the Order who regained control. He only hoped that after the war, the Ministry could be reformed into the great institution it once was.

He'd listened today with a heavy heart as Dolores Umbridge painted a completely false image of that same Order. She was going to go after them and try and disband them. Percy knew that he had to try and stop her. He couldn't let her ruin the best chance of defeating You-Know-Who they had. She'd also started asking him questions about Bill, and any effects of Lycanthropy he might be exhibiting. The questions had sent a chill down Percy's spine.

After spending hours on-site collecting statements, he'd spent the evening back at his desk compiling them and preparing reports, dismayed by the way the statements had been misrepresented. Then, just as he was preparing to go home, Dolores Umbridge herself had visited his office.