~Sequentia~ Harry Potter One-Shots [Long]

Night at the Ministry [Percy Weasley]

Percy Weasley x Reader

[Theme: Young Adult] 

The Ministry: at last. The place I had dreamed of working ever since I was young. Sure, some people fancied the adventurous life or opening their own shop that demonstrated their ambitions. For me, I liked the more formalised but still fun life. I wanted to change things and to do that, I had to start small. Making a difference. That would be it.

Not a second after graduating Hogwarts, I applied for every open position at the Ministry. Unsurprisingly, most of them rejected me on the spot for not having enough 'experience' despite it being an entry-level job. It wasn't until last week did my opportunity finally strike. The family owl burst through the window and threw a formal letter on my lap. On it bore the large seal of the Ministry of Magic. 

Opening it revealed I had been accepted for an intern job in the Department of International Magical Co-operation under Bartemius Crouch. It wasn't the most prestigious job considering it was likely just going to be sorting out regulations. Still, it was nothing to stick a nose up at. Everyone starts somewhere.

Taking the lift to the fifth floor, revealed a grand plan room filled with desks, each with a wizard or witch scribbling away as papers flew between the alleys. A normal person would think this was pandemonium; how could this system at all be efficient with so many distractions? The workers themselves didn't mind one bit as they dipped their quills in ink and scratched away before sending the sheets away and more coming through. It was almost like paper aeroplanes waiting to divebomb on any available table. 

Right as I was about to interrupt one of the workers to ask what the heck I was supposed to be doing, an older man approached. I recognised it to be Crouch from his photos in the Daily Prophet. He had a rather stern look to him considering his dressed-up appearance and thinning grey hair that he had definitely pulled a comb through at least thirty times this morning.

"Good evening," he started with a self-important tone, "I take you must be..." 

It was hard to describe what he said that he thought was my last name. If there were a time that someone had written a name on their hand and tried to read the smudge, this would be it. 

"It's-" I tried to correct but he had already started to wander off. Not wanting to be left behind, I jogged on to follow him. He stopped impromptu outside a black door which almost made me slam into his back. 

"This will be your office." he said curtly. "My assistant, Weatherby, will be aiding you. I do trust the night shift is within your capability." 

The one condition for this job was that I had to work night shifts. It was far from ideal but I had to remember that it was only temporary until I could put my foot in the door for a better position. Crouch opened the door. I'm not sure what I expected... more than this, at the least. 

Instead of a reasonably sized office, it was hardly changed from that of an old broom closet. There was one barely working light strung from the ceiling and two small desks and chairs almost touching end-to-end with each other and the wall. I genuinely had to consider if I would need to clamber over the desk itself to get to the other side. To the back wall was a series of metal cabinets. Bits of paper was crumpled between the drawers. It was a sorry sight indeed. 

Crouch stuck his head in and gave an unimpressed huff. "Where is Weatherby? I specifically requested that he be here." 

The name 'Weatherby' left his lips and a tall ginger boy ran down the corridor carrying a small cup of tea and a coaster. Hot steam wafted from the top. There was no sweetness in the air and the tea was entirely dark.