Percy paused outside the polished door of Cornelius Fudge's office, straightening his robes and tugging at his tie one last time. The knot felt too tight, but he couldn't loosen it—everything had to look perfect. He had rehearsed this moment endlessly, running through lines in his head, imagining every possible scenario, But nothing had prepared him for the real mix of excitement and dread curling in his stomach.
The hallway was unusually quiet. It was late, the Ministry's usual hustle softened by the hour. The walls, which were typically lined with hurried footsteps and murmurs, felt almost too still, as if the very building was waiting for what was about to happen. Percy drew a deep breath, willing himself to appear calm, competent, and utterly loyal. Inside, however, his heart raced at the thought of the double life he now carried—Junior Assistant by day, secret agent for the Order by necessity.
He knocked lightly on the door.
"Enter," Fudge's cheerful voice called from the other side.
Percy stepped inside, shoes clicking against the polished floor. Each sound seemed amplified, like a reminder of the weight of expectations pressing down on him. Cornelius Fudge sat behind his desk, his broad face lighting up as he looked up from the stack of papers in front of him.
"Ah, Percy! Come in, come in!" Fudge's voice was as jovial as ever. He waved him toward the chair across from his desk. "I trust you've made your decision?"
Percy felt his palms grow clammy, but he wiped them surreptitiously on his robes before sitting down. "Yes, Minister. I… I am honored by the offer and would like to formally accept the position of Junior Assistant to the Minister."
Fudge's eyes twinkled, his smile stretching wide. "Excellent! Absolutely excellent. Your diligence has not gone unnoticed. I have every confidence you'll excel." He extended a hand across the desk, his fingers curling with the ease of someone used to getting exactly what they wanted. Percy stood up quickly, shaking the hand with a firm grip, forcing a smile. The gesture was warm, but it carried the weight of expectations that went far beyond the handshake itself.
"Thank you, Minister," Percy said, sinking back into the chair as his stomach churned. He had to play this right—this was no longer just about his career. This was about survival, about loyalty to a cause he wasn't sure he fully understood, and about a mission that could cost him everything.