(no subject)

[icarus]

mctabby's Drabblethon, for prettypuddle.

I cheated in the first place all right, I didn't read the directions... and wrote 436 words. I never did know what a drabble was.

Now I'm cheating even more.


"Oh, there you are, boy. Do shut the door behind you." Minister Fudge nodded brusquely. The guards stepped aside. Percy entered, pallid, distressed that his robes were threadbare. But it couldn't be helped. He wiped his palms on his thighs and took in the 'new' Ministry.

The Minister had redecorated. The drapes were all in black, and the now-familiar scull and snake emblazoned the wall behind him. A statue of the martyred Lord Voldemort was in the works.

Cornelius Fudge shuffled papers on his desk and ignored Percy.

After a long moment, Percy decided to fill the silence. "Minister Fudge - ah - Cornelius." Oh no, was that too forward? Too desperate? He hurried on to cover his flub. "I want you to know that I had every confidence in you. I was certain that my years of loyal service would be remembered, and weighed against my family's crimes--"

"Yes, yes, do sit down, please." The Minister waved his hand distractedly.

He stamped a few more papers, then pulled off his reading glasses and sat back in his chair.

"Dreadful business, war," Minister Fudge sighed, "expensive. I'll be happy to see more productive times." He wagged his finger at Percy. "We must all work hard to pull our weight and bring the country out of the red."

"Does this - does this mean I'm to get my old job back?"

Percy hadn't dared hope since his arrest, though he'd certainly paid his dues and worked hard and --

"Hrmm," Minister Fudge pursed his lips. "I'm afraid that position has been filled."

Percy was crestfallen. Was he let out of prison only to be executed?

"Still, you're a young man. Healthy."

Then it was to be the work camps. He'd never survive...

"But of a fragile disposition."

"Yes. Fragile. Quite delicate," Percy's head bobbed.

Fudge nodded as if this was exactly what he had expected. "I knew you'd agree. You will need new robes naturally, but those can be provided on credit." He snapped his fingers and on of the black-robed guards strode forward.

Percy smiled with relief. "Yes, what I have on is hardly appropriate." He laughed weakly.

The guard dropped into his lap a set of gaudy orange, red and green silks. They were filmy. See-through in fact, inset with slashes of bright yellow and winking fake gems. Percy frowned with distaste. Why, this looked like something a harlot would... realisation dawned.

"Well, go on then," Minister Fudge urged him with a kindly nod. "Strip. Show us your colors."

Percy's mouth hung open in blank horror.

The Minister chuckled. "Dear boy, there's no reason to be shy now."