Gentleman in Navy Blue

Percival Ignatius Weasley sat on the hard bench outside the office of the Ministry of Magic. He was at a low point in his life. He'd been told to report to the Minister's office when he arrived at work today. He wasn't expecting it to be a good thing. His life hadn't been good lately. He fully expected to be out of a job by the end of the day. His year at the Ministry hadn't exactly been full of glory ... but it was a Ministry job, and he thought he'd done it to the best of his ability. He'd practically ran the Department for International Cooperation most of the year, and what newly graduated from Hogwarts wizard could say that.

Now, however, he was waiting on the hard, unpadded bench, and had been since early morning. It was past lunch, and no one had spoken to him. He'd asked the Minister's secretary once when the Minister was going to meet with him. He'd been dismissed as if he was less worthy of attention than the dirt under one's fingernails. The letter that had just been delivered to him hadn't helped. He couldn't stop the tears.

Suddenly, the bench shifted, and someone sat down beside him. Percy figured it had to be someone who wasn't in favor with the Minister. No one else would sit on the bench of shame. Through his tears, he could tell that the sleeves of the jacket the person was wearing had four rings of gold braid.

"May I ask what is bothering you, son?" the man asked.

Percy had over the last few weeks been on the outs with his father. Mostly, it was because of advice that his father had given him that he couldn't believe would be true. Advice, as it turned out, was completely on target. So, the question, matching that which his father would have said, it was the wave that overtopped the wall of his pride, his resistance to the belief that he had been wrong.

The words poured out of him like water a breach in the hull. "My girlfriend just broke up with me. My mother kicked me out of the house. I'm under investigation because my boss was imperio-used by his son, leaving me to run the entire Department for International Cooperation with only his sparse letters to advise me. Apparently, I should have known better than to think that letters were sufficient guidance. Never mind that this is my first year out of school, and my only experience on normal Ministry operations is occasionally visiting my Father who is part of the two-man Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Like having lunch with Father is that revealing, especially given how besot he is with muggles. Of course he told me that it wasn't how a Department should be run, but how would he know? I mean, I got through the whole year without anyone in the department causing an International Incident. You know how rare that is? It hasn't happened since Queen Anne was on the throne! But no, I kept that department running and all I get for it is an investigation, my pay docked, a summons to the minister so he can personally fire me, thrown out of the house I grew up on, and a letter from the girlfriend I just bought a ring for this morning breaking up with me!"

Percy felt the man turn towards him, but did not look up."You ran the Ministry's foreign affairs department for a year without incident. It sounds to me like the Ministry should be glad you were there. I know how hard diplomacy can be. You might say I grew up having to learn the trade. Fresh out of school, how in the world did you manage?" the man inquired.

"It wasn't that hard, really," Percy said. "I just listened to what the old salts in the department had to say about each group that we had to meet. It helped that Crouch wasn't available, actually. I could ask around and find out who did well with the each group, and what to make sure was ready for each meeting. You'd be surprised just how having the right drink available smooths things out. Crouch was always a bit brisk, and usually a bit too sharp. Rodgers said it had to do with him coming over from the DMLE. That doesn't always work when you're trying to negotiate, though it did help in the run up to the World Cup with the security arrangements. We did drop the ball on telling Fudge that the Bulgarian minister had a degree from Oxford and spoke fluent English."

"Everyone makes mistakes," the man replied. "Having heard about Fudge from Major, I doubt he even asked if the Bulgarian Magic Minister spoke English. Fudge seems to be a man who assumes to much."

"Yes, and if you assume too much it makes an ass out of you and me," Percy said, with smile. "At least that's what Father always said."

"You don't strike me as a lad who assumes too much," the man said. "You seem to be hardworking, and quite knowledgeable for your age. You were put in a very difficult situation, and it seems that you came out of it swimmingly. I don't think the situation is your fault, and I can help you."

Percy looked up at the man seated beside him for the first time. "You can?" Percy asked, as his eyes began to process the image of the man he'd been talking to. It was obvious that the man was in a uniform, with a row of medals that looked quite impressive. He wore a medium blue sash across his body from the left shoulder, with aiguillettes of gold cord on his left. He had a largish pair of ears, and a rather distinctive nose. His grin was an infectious one, and Percy immediately found himself smiling.

"Oh, I'm certain I can help with most of your issues," the man said. "At the very least, I should be able to find you a place to stay in my Cornwall holdings."

Percy didn't know what to say, or how to respond. His confounding increased, as the Chain of Office for the Minister of Magic appeared and settled on the man's shoulders.

"Hmmm. Mum must have finished stripping Fudge of his titles," the man mumbled softly, looking at the chain whose weight now spread across his shoulders. He reached into his left sleeve, and pulled out a polished gold rod with a ornate top to it. At Percy's gaze, he continued. "I don't get as much practice with this as I should. You really can't do a lot of the wand movements with it. Then again, I have had it since 1969, so I really should know how to use it."

The man pointed his rod at the door to the Office of the Minister of Magic, and it opened. "I think we can put you to work, today, Percy. I need someone on hand like you, at the very least." He took a couple steps to towards the door. "Oh, I really should have introduced myself. I am Charles, the Prince of Wales, and now Minister of Magic by appointment of Her Majesty, the Queen."

"Who?"