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.