Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. I)

All My Inhibitions (Percy Weasley)

"The data about broom-based accidents?" I checked and at his nod, I reassured him, "I've got it all with me."

"This is going to be the most infuriating hour of our lives," he confessed, reaching for the door handle. He paused, scowling for a moment before grumbling, "We'd better get it over with."

And before I could say something in return, Weasley was pushing the door open and gesturing for me to walk in before him. With a silent thankful smile, I walked in first and cast a glance around the boardroom that was full of unhappy faces; this really was going to be difficult. They'd all no doubt heard about the changes our department wanted to make and were going to do their very best to stop it. But, as the department in charge of transportation, it was our job.

Removing my wand from my robe pockets, I levitated the inkwell and quill to rest on the table and ended the spell. Placing the documents down shortly after, I sat down gratefully when Weasley drew my chair out for me from under the table. He was quick to follow, sitting down beside me and making sure to keep his back ramrod straight, shoulders out to their full width; he wouldn't be intimidated. Not when it came to his work.

There was a tense silence where no one spoke, not even to extend greetings. From the corner of my eye I spied the glance Weasley threw towards me and instantly began to spread the pieces of parchment out in front of me so everything would be easy to find.

Clearing his throat firmly to end some of the snide chatter that had started up around the room, Percy propped his gathered hands on the table. I crossed my legs at the ankle, preparing for a fight that was absolutely going to drain me.

"Shall we begin?"

***********

I spent the majority of the next day relaxing at home to recover from that disaster of a meeting. It had overrun; what was supposed to take an hour wound up taking almost four instead. Frustratingly enough, it was a common occurrence because the people that created the bloody brooms weren't willing to listen. No doubt they would attempt to ignore the regulations that were placed on top speeds and they would cite some reason for having to create a broom that went at 70 miles an hour. Rowena, we had shoved so many statistics about broom related accidents down their throat and still they didn't understand. Eventually we'd had to resort to assuring them that the laws restricting top speeds would pass and if they did create illegal brooms, they would be brought to stand before the Wizengamot and sales of their brooms in Britain would be prohibited. It was a slight bluff on our part but it was one they accepted with very little fuss.

It took a ridiculous amount of time to get over the hours where I had been forced to listen to grown wizards and witches squabbling like children. It was just a speed restriction! One that was going to save lives by stopping players from ramming into the ground at 70 miles an hour. Who cared about making a broom faster if a slower one was known to save lives? Thankfully now that the meeting was over and I had no lingering business to deal with, I could begin my transformation into the person I became for a few hours every other Saturday night. Off went the Ministry robes, the professional dress and down came my hair from its usual bun. And on went the dress that ended mid-thigh, clinging to my body and the heels that were perfect for dancing.

Sometime after the war had ended, I had accepted my muggle friend's invitation to go clubbing, something that was so out of character for me but the need to feel alive after losing so many of my friends had prompted me to accept the offer. There was something about dancing my stress away that made it slowly become an essential part of my lifestyle. If only in this way I could completely let loose and I didn't have to be the girl that had grown up too quickly to fight a war where I'd lost people I'd loved. I could be just like another other 22 year old.