He would have to watch, listen, and remember everything. Every interaction could reveal something important, or worse, expose him. The Order couldn't afford a single mistake. The Ministry was crawling with potential threats, with people who would never hesitate to throw anyone under the bus if it served their own agendas, and now Percy had to be a part of it. He had to blend in, disappear into the background, while simultaneously gathering information for the Order.
As Fudge prattled on, Percy thought of his family—the chaos of the Burrow, his mother fussing over dinner, his father's broad smile when he'd received the letter from the Ministry. Bill, a cursebreaker in Egypt who Percy had always looked up to. Charlie, who was ever-adventurous and studied dragons in Romania. The twins, always so loud and full of life. Ron, his annoying younger brother who had no idea what he was about to get tangled in, and Ginny, the youngest, with her fierce determination to prove herself.
None of them could know.
The thought pinched Percy's chest. Guilt stirred in his stomach, the kind of guilt that made him wish for a simpler time. A time when he was just one of the Weasley children, when the Ministry was something distant and far removed from his day-to-day life. He missed the Burrow—the warm chaos of it, the sense of home, but there was no going back now.