Chapter 1

By Accident

"Weasley! Where's my itinerary?"

The Minister for Magic's impatient huff ricocheted from behind a frosted-glass door that faced his administrative pool.

"WEASLEY!"

"Yes sir! It's right here!" The gangly redhead fluttered into the Minister for Magic's office, thrusting the schedule on the his desk with all the grace of a harassed hippogriff.

"Good, good," Fudge breathed as he fastened a bowler hat securely over his balding spot. "I need the final draft of our Wizengamot proposal, the second draft of the House Elf working conditions bill and a written media advisory for those damn Prophet reporters completed before I'm back tomorrow."

"Yes, of course sir," Percy trapped an exasperated sigh. Every day this week he entered the ministry before the sun rose and after it set. His life was a seemingly endless night.

"Brilliant," Fudge snatched his striped outer robes from his office chair and made for the door, but not before turning back to Percy, "And when are those interviews starting?"

"Today," Percy barked, clutching a ministerial dossier to his chest like a life vest.

"Good. All of this 'You-Know-Who returns' business has created a real mess for us. We'll need all the extra help we can get, so the sooner you find someone, the better."

"Right," the junior undersecretary whispered as his gaze followed Fudge's retreating, pin-striped back.

Percy leaned against the office wall, exhaling a gasp he unknowingly held. He never wanted to admit it to himself, but sometimes this job was too much. Take a deep breath. He repeated the mantra to himself. Worrying about it wouldn't make it done.

Percy pushed up the bridge of his glasses and shuffled his papers, looking for the resume of the first interviewee scheduled for today. Audrey Archer.

A heel capped in metallic gold clacked an agitated, unsteady beat over the stuffy coughs echoing in the dark anteroom on the first floor of The Ministry of Magic.

Her colorful garments stuck out absurdly against the polished onyx stones covering the outer walls of the Minister's office. A shabby-looking witch flicked her eyes disapprovingly at the assistant-hopeful. The girl looked up suddenly, startling her elderly competition caught sizing her up. Muttering unintelligibly, the witch gave another once over of the unreasonably high heels that insisted on tapping away her patience. Silly bangles jingled on her forearm as she flipped another page. It was surprising she could even read under the thick, dark fringe covering her brow. Her appearance was all wrong—wrong for an assistant to one of the most important leaders of the free Wizarding World anyway.

"Audrey Archer."

Audrey's stomach twisted at Amos Diggory's withered form now stooped by the doorway. Her eyes became glued to the floor as she swiftly breezed by him. Audrey remembered it at all too clearly as well.

She and Cedric were in the same year.

"Please have a seat Mrs. Ar-"

"Miss," she corrected.

"Pardon me, Miss Archer." The young man sitting behind a mahogany desk barely spared her a glance as she sat down in front of him—his eyes practically cemented to her resume. She was unsure if his casual indifference counted as shyness or pomposity.

Audrey took this moment to carefully observe her observer. He seemed made-to-order for the Ministry—from the pencil-thin tie knotted at his neck to the tortoise shell, horn-rimmed spectacles placed purposefully across his bespeckled nose.

His looks were a great irony. Hair the color of defiance trapped in a parchment-pusher's uniform. The way it curled and twisted around his head like twigs reminded her of a crown made from a bird's nest. His thin lips curved slightly in a poor imitation of a smile, "A former Ravenclaw, hm?" his eyes rose to her face, revealing almost lifeless, green irises underneath pinkish lids. She nodded, somewhat nervously, any verbal communication temporarily forgotten.

"I was in Gryffindor myself," he accentuated this point as if it were something to be particularly proud of, "but my girlfriend was in Ravenclaw. Penelope Clearwater, maybe you know of her?"

Pomposity it was.

How could Audrey forget her? As if she would let anyone forget Head Girl Perfect-Penelope-Clearwater? Come to think of it, that must have been why he seemed a little familiar himself. He was none other than Percy Weasley, her Head Boy boyfriend. Penelope and Percy. They were practically made for each other.

"Of course! She was a year ahead of me—I remember her very fondly," she answered, fighting to keep the sarcastic lilt clear of her voice. Yes, she very fondly remembered how impossibly obnoxious Miss Clearwater could be.

"Now what makes you think that you could fulfill the required duties as secretary to the Minister?" She gave a derisive, inward laugh. It was not as if sitting at a desk, taking notes and occasionally running errands would require too much skill.

"I…formerly worked as secretary to the editor of The Daily Prophet—

"Can you write?" he asked abruptly, leaning forward on his elbow, placing his chin in the palm of his hand and giving her a green-eyed stare.

"Erm…sometimes my boss let me go on assignment—and I was published several times—and I was also a student reporter for the Hogwarts' Hoof."

It was suddenly quiet and Audrey almost shivered under the awkward silence.

"I brought a few clippings…if you would like to see them," she said, opening a portfolio and pulling out snipped columns from the Prophet.

Percy took the clippings, but placed them on his desk sparing little more than a polite glance. Instead, he held up her resume as his eyes scanned each word like a laser.

"Your resume says you were only there for a few months. Why did you suddenly decide to pursue a career at the Ministry?"

"I…well, you know—The Prophet—it just wasn't—it wasn't really the right place for me." How was she supposed to respond to this question again?

"I'm really looking for a career in a different direction with new experiences that will challenge me." Perfect.

Audrey secretly congratulated herself on the smooth rebound, but her inner smile quickly melted at the incredulous look in Percy's stare.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and regained a stately posture, "Thank you. That will be all. My name is Percy Weasley and I am the Junior Undersecretary to the Minister, if you have any questions, please owl me," he hastily closed her portfolio, years of carefully compiled work now reduced to a folded mess. Crushing it together, he reached for a rubber stamp resting on an ink pad and branded the outside of it, placing it atop a towering stack of others.

"After our selection is made, you will be notified via owl post," he spoke mechanically.

"Thank you Mr. Weasley," she tried to hide the surprise in her reply as she straightened her skirt and pushed back the chair with trembling hands. The interview had been noticeably short. Maybe she should have complimented his girlfriend more.

"Mr. Diggory, please send the ne—Miss are you all right?" He peered over a piece of paper to find Audrey sprawled out on the rug in front of his desk.

"Yes I'm fine—just tripped over y-your rug." She jumped up, pushing her hair behind her ear and collecting her dignity that was now in pieces on the floor. "I'm...alright. Thank you."

Her voice was strangled deep within her throat as she fought the urge to run out and slam the door behind her. Percy snorted and placed the paper in front of his face to hide an undignified grin.

Well, that was nothing short of dreadful! She scolded herself and pounded on the Ministry lift's button, mentally moving on to her next job interview.

The clanging bell interrupted her thoughts as two iron-gated doors retracted like an accordion, revealing an aristocratic-looking wizard with a displeased disposition. He stood immaculately straight with a tail of blonde hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck and Audrey forced herself not to stare. A black, polished cane reached around her to push another button, causing the gated doors to close.

She concentrated on the sound of the creaking cables pulling them backward, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes boring holes in the back of her head. The lift lurched and quickly launched them upwards, throwing Audrey against the wizard.

"Oh—I'm sorry!" she leapt off of him and hugged the opposite wall, horrified that he might yell at her. A quick glance revealed a look of narrow-eyed intrigue rather than irritation.

"It was nothing my dear," he replied, waving her apology away. "Which department do you work in?" She watched him hook the serpent-headed cane to his side.

"None...yet."

Or maybe she should have just said no since she had probably ruined any hopes of working at the Ministry anyway.

"I was interviewing for the secretary position."

He smiled with pinched lips that hinted another meaning; it rested under two glittering blue orbs that raked over her.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he announced, sweeping his velvet cloak behind a broad shoulder to reveal an ornate silver vest adorned with serpentine hooks, "I am Lucius Malfoy," his gloved hand reached for her's and placed a gentle kiss upon it.

She had almost forgotten her own name, "Audrey…Archer," her cheeks suddenly burned as she diverted her eyes from him. The heat of his gaze lingered on her for more than was necessary.

"This is my floor," she announced to no one, exiting the elevator in an unnaturally hasty manner.

"If you ever need anything while you're here Miss Archer, please do not hesitate to call upon me," a crooked grin tugged at one corner of his lips as his face was imprisoned by the closing iron doors.

"Of course, good-bye Mr. Malfoy," she answered rapidly, her legs carrying her away before her mouth caught up.

"Good-bye Miss Archer, it was a pleasure," and with that the labored sound of the rickety lifts slowly sunk below the floor.

"Shouldn't you be getting out of here?" chirped an unmistakable Scottish accent from the office doorway.

"Not until I find Fudge's new secretary," Percy answered, not bothering to honor his co-worker's entrance with a visual acknowledgement.

"What about—what about that…em…that Slytherin girl?" The Scotsman smoothed the side of his wheat-colored hair, twirling his wand between his fingers.

"What Slytherin girl?" Percy asked irritably, throwing another stack of resumes in the rubbish bin.

"You know—the one with the hair…and the legs."

"All of them had hair and legs," he huffed, rolling his eyes "thankfully."

"Not all of them had her's."

"I haven't a clue what you're on about," the junior undersecretary ceremoniously scribbled a note on one applicant's resume, the plume of his quill waggling pretentiously.

"Oh come off it," the Scotsman snatched Percy's quill, finally winning an irritated scowl from the redhead, "like you didn't notice."

"I didn't, Icarus," Percy wrenched the quill from him, hissing his co-worker's name, "Besides, I have a girlfriend."

"Doesn't mean you can't have a look!"

"I don't want to 'have a look.'"

"Pfft—stop pretending to be so pious—pious Percy! Why are you taking this so seriously anyway?"

"Because it is SERIOUS—Fudge made sure to remind me that this was to be completed before he returns."

"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you're worried about hiring someone Fudge'll fancy more than you…"

The notion was ridiculous. Percy was more worried about an overly ambitious protégé than a pair of perky breasts.

"Alright, well, some of us are going down to Leaky's for a pint—you coming?"

"Maybe another time," Percy automatically spit out his famous excuse. Sometimes his mouth formed the words before he could even consider the offer.

"Suit yourself," Icarus backed from the doorway, "but don't let the competition get a leg up on ya!"

"Merlin's beard, I hope you're already lagged to resort to jokes that pathetic."

But Icarus never heard it, as his roaring laughter echoed down the hallway toward the lifts.

"Don't forget Percy, just hire some ol' hag and you'll have nothing to worry about!"