Percy Weasley now lived in a mansion that rivaled that of the one the Malfoy’s had lived before the second and final downfall of Lord Voldemort. He’d left his past behind him as soon as possible, as soon as the money and the chances had presented themselves. He was the Minister of Magic at last, and it’d only taken him 10 years of sucking up and bouncing from one department to the next, and not to mention the deaths of almost all his former superiors in the War, to get there. Although he was far from popular with the people, everyone agreed he was efficient and got what needed to be done, done. And he wasn’t about to let his popularity slip because of two rogue Aurors with itchy curse wands. So he did what he always did when he needed to get something done... he called a meeting. Draco entered his office first, taking a quick look around before wiping his hair back from his eyes and pushing the door open wider to allow Harry entrance. While Harry studied Percy with a kind of vague friendship and familiarity, Draco merely leveled him with a bird’s lazer glare. He’d never gotten over his hatred of the Weasley’s, his hatred of the Ministry, and hatred of rules. Percy personified all of these things in one smug, bossy package. “Gentlemen,” he said, in his most prim and proper way, “please, sit, sit.” They did, but only reluctantly. After spending the last 5 years together on the streets of the dark side of London even twenty minutes receiving one of Percy’s infamous lectures would be like a living hell, and with the way he had his reading glasses lowered on the bridge of his nose and from the pile of papers on his desk where Harry could barely make out his own name from across the room, it seemed like that would be exactly what they’d be getting. And then it started. “First of all, Id like to commend you on... taking care of... your latest assignment.” “As we always do.” Draco cut off his next sentence harshly, trying to make it clear that neither of them had the time or the patience for small talk right now. He could already hear the words coming next in his mind, playing over and over, and putting them in reality was going to give him a serious headache. “Indeed...” Percy said, with some offended distaste. “However,” he continued, and Harry had to hide a groan. There was always a however. “This was the fourth person you’ve used the Death Curse on in quite a short amount of time, and certain people are becoming alarmed by your apparent inability to capture these men alive.” Angrily, Draco stood up, knocking his chair over backwards in the process. Harry rose to his feet as well, but it was to put a hand on Draco’s arm in case he was planning to do something violent and very stupid. “With all due respect sir,” Draco said, meaning absolutely no respect at all, “if you want us to stop using the Unforgivable Curses then repeal the law that you wrote that gave us the ability. Until then, I, at the very least, plan to continue using them whenever I see fit.” Percy quailed under Draco’s sudden and unexpected fury, and for a moment Harry thought he would simply dismiss them without another word. But that just wouldn’t be Percy. After he took a moment to regain his composure he smoothed back his hair and pasted on a phony smile. “Of course, Mr. Malfoy, of course. As I said, only certain people have been alarmed. I am not one of them, and am only passing on the message to you two. Please take it as you see fit.” And then he hastily pushed back his chair and pretended to study a stack of papers, apparently not realizing as Harry did that they were upside down. With a snort, Draco kicked his chair back up to its sitting position and stared at Percy for a moment. “I thought so,” he said, and left through the still open door.