Disclaimer: I do not own anything involving Harry Potter

What can I say? I fell for the snatcher after watching the Deathly Hallows, and so I decided to make a story. I really hope you guys like it!

Chapter 1~

-x-x-x-

"As your new Minister for Magic, I promise to restore this temple of tolerance to its former glory."

A pair of pattering feet nearly matched the high volume of Pius Thicknesse's introduction, drawing a bit of attention from the back of the crowd, to the hasteful witch. She managed to weave through the cluster of Ministry workers, while attempting to comb her tangled locks with her fingertips.

On a normal day, Joce would do her best to stay away from the spotlight. The very thought of dozens of eyes boring down at the young woman, was rather unsettling in times like these. She was a muggle-born, a mudblood; the eye sore of the Ministry. Apparently she was a thief, too.

Oh, she would hear that festering slime, Yaxley talk revoltingly of her kind. 'They were nothing but muggle's, who stole their magic from real witches and wizards', he would viciously prattle. Her tainted blood always flared by looking at his crinkled sneer.

The man was relentless.

With pure-bloods like Yaxley, and the toad, Dolores Umbridge, creeping their way through the Ministry's good side, Joce felt the air was dangerously thickening with resentment, each passing day. It was only a matter of time, before it became foolish for her to lay a foot at work...maybe it already was.

As she awkwardly kept her green eyes glued to the floor, a long arm snagged her shoulder, and swiftly pulled her to the left. Her eyes snapped upward to meet her dear bosses blue eyes staring back at her.

"Out of all the days to be late, you choose today?" Arthur Weasley lightly scolded, "I swear Jocelynn..."

Joce felt a hint of a shameful blush colour the bridge of her nose, "It won't happen again, Arthur. I didn't mean-"

"I can't protect you, if you keep finding ways to get yourself into trouble" the old red head whispered harshly, releasing his grip on her shoulder. "I've been tolerable about—and you—what happened to you?"

While his gaze flickered up and down her body, she remembered her black clothes were noticeably wrinkled; from her tight fitting sweater, to her knee-length skirt. Even the white cuffs and collar of her undershirt were bent in an odd shape.

"I might have...spent the night here," she reluctantly admitted.

Joce was never the type to give up on a project. She spent painful hours that night, working on a broken talking mirror. The horrid thing was completely stupid, as it purposely tried to worsen the viewer's appearance, instead of improve it. Having her tired eyes snap shut for a third time, she thought to keep them closed for a minute...When she awoke from her slumber a few moments ago, she realized she never left her small office the night before, and the mirror was still not fixed.

She was still mentally cursing herself for her mistake.

"Again?" Arthur sighed, as he reached into his pocket and grabbed his wand, "I'm guessing you forgot your wand in your office, too right?"

"One does not think straight, when they're late for an important meeting," she sheepishly smiled, in hopes of dulling the tension.

Mr. Weasley was truly a wonderful wizard. Despite the large age gap between the two, he treated the twenty-five-year-old witch more like a good friend than just a fellow employee. Arthur tried to protect her these days from revealing her blood status, and Joce covered for the man she respected, when the Order would call on him. They were a team, and both were relieved to know the other wouldn't dare break that thread of trust.

"Just don't let it happen again." The older wizard muttered a spell under his breath, causing all the pesky wrinkles to smooth down. Joce quietly thanked the red head and turned her attention to the brand new Minister.

Thicknesse's words were comfortably soothing as he told the crowd of future plans, but under the surface of his voice, lingered a dark message. In between the lines, he spoke of weeding out the plague of undesirable people from their glorious world; meaning he wished for the elimination of muggle-borns and blood traitors alike.

The Ministry was no longer safe.

"Therefore beginning today, each employee will submit themselves for, an evaluation."

Joce felt a chill course down her back, "They wouldn't..."

Suddenly, the sound of hundreds of feet tapping against the smooth ebony floors, roared from behind the horrified witches form. Joce slowly cocked her head to her right, as Arthur gently tugged her away to make a path for a few intimidating figures.

Her green eyes widened in fear at the sight of a beaten man being dragged across the atrium. At the corner of his long forehead, crimson blood oozed down his purplish-blue blotched cheek, and dripped off his groomed beard. One of his eyes was swollen shut, while the other was squinting, desperately trying to see. The poor wizard could barely support his body, and yet he was forced to keep moving.

"This is surely a sign of things to come," Joce heard Mr. Weasley whisper.

And then she saw him. Walking beside the unfortunate victim was a rather distinguishing tall man. In a darkly strange way, she found him quite alluring. He had a rough appearance, with his mop of wild brown hair with a red streak tied back, along with a thin layer of dirt, chiseled on his features. Glancing down she noticed he wore a dark blue coat and a pair of dark plaid pants, with black boots to complete his ensemble.

Joce watched closely as he treaded onward, with frightening men following behind. Her heart nearly stopped beating as startling blue-grey eyes locked on her green ones, an amused smirk playing on his lips. She felt her face turn icily numb. Those playful eyes sparked dangerously, almost like a hunter on the prowl, which scared and...interested her. She was drawn towards the attractive man out of curiosity. There was something about him.

Their eye contact lingered for a little longer, until his ocean-like irises swept away, his presence disappearing beyond a wall of baffled people.

Who was that man?

"…You have nothing to fear if you have nothing to hide."

-x-x-x-

As the crowd dispersed, Arthur and Joce stood among the many scattered employee's returning back to their divisions, "So this is how we're meant to fall; waiting patiently for prejudice hands to wipe us out alphabetically."

"We can't lose hope, Joce. If we start thinking that way now, we'll never win," Arthur muttered in her ear, "For now, it's just best if we lay low. You should consider packing your things today—"

Joce quickly twirled around to face her old boss, "You want me to leave? What about you?"

"I'm apart of the Order, I have to stay here. I need to help out as much as I can," he explained.

"Then who's going to save your skin when you've stuck your nose in the wrong place? Certainly not bloody Runcorn," Joce countered, slightly raising her voice.

Arthur parted his mouth to respond, when a familiar 'Hem-Hem' penetrated the quarreling workers ears.

That sound.

"Arthur Weasley, and Jocelynn Everly. May I have a word with the two of you?" A girlish voice piped up. At the same time, the two turned to see Dolores Umbridge 'sweetly' smiling near the giant water fountain. With much hesitation, they complied with the wretched toads request and hurried over to the pink dressed woman.

"Might I remind you Miss. Everly, that tardiness is not tolerated here in the Ministry," Umbridge chimed, folding her hands in front of her, "And as Miss. Everly is your responsibility Mr. Weasley, you are also to be blamed."

"Forgive us Madam Umbridge, we promise nothing like this will ever happen again," Arthur said, speaking for the both of them.

"Oh, I'm sure. Continuing to be a disgrace to the Ministry, won't keep you around here for much longer," she spoke, giggling a little towards the end.

Joce noticed Arthur was struggling to keep his poker face. Anger was rapidly forming on his aging features, only causing Umbridge's smile to widen. He didn't need this, not after his son's wedding was ruined the other day. It was hard for him to try to act like nothing was wrong, when his family was on edge, and his youngest son was on the run with famous Harry Potter.

Biting back any fowl words threatening to escape the young woman's lips, Joce forced herself to fake a smile before speaking, "How right you are Madam Umbridge. I am ashamed of my actions."

From the corner of her eye, she could see Arthur's dumfounded expression staring directly at her. Her false words even fooled the pompous hag, for her bulging eyes were widened in shock. Unfortunately, her ugly red lips were still smiling.

Some might believe good lying is a terrible habit to pick up; Joce however, thought otherwise. To her, lying was a talent. While others were gifted with the ability to be aurors, professional quidditch players, or even potion masters, Joce was gifted with the ability to be a schemer.

"I never wished to be a disgrace. I mean, if I keep acting like this, I'll surely be no better than a filthy mudblood," Joce whinged, pretending to hold back a sob. She paused for a moment before, she threw her hands over her mouth in false terror, "Did I just say the 'm' word out loud? W-what I mean to say is...umm..."

Joce's acting seemed to have convinced the toad, as the curly haired woman stepped towards the young witch, patting her black sleeved arm in slight endearment.

"No, no, it's alright, dear. You have every right to call those thieving vermin, mudbloods. Because they need to learn, we will not stand by, while they continue to taint our perfect society."

'I hate her so much right now,' the muggle-born thought venomously, subconsciously curling her long fingers into a tight fist by her side.

Oddly enough, along with her bottled up rage, she felt slightly paranoid, like another was watching her. Of course, she did always feel anxious when Dolores' unfriendly eyes were staring.

"Thank you for understanding Madam Umbridge. We need more people like you in this world," she lied.

"You're welcome dear. I'll let you off with a warning this time...and just this time." Dolores gave Arthur a harsh glare, before she walked passed the two, and headed down the nearest hallway.

"That vile hag is nothing but a hypocrite," Joce hissed, dropping her sob filled tone, and returning back to her normal one, "Treats everyone equally, she says, though act like a snobbish pure-blood, and she melts like butter!"

"That was a risky move you pulled."

Joce knew Arthur would find her display to be degrading. To her, it wasn't degrading, it was just required. Sure she felt her stomach clench with disgust, right after she called herself a filthy mudblood, but still, it was required.

"Well, risk and lies usually do come in a set, sooo," she casually spoke, running a light olive toned hand through her long hair, covering her side part for a moment.

"Do not encourage their hatred, do you understand me?"He lectured, reminding Joce of a father scolding his child. It was a little rattling to have her work-friend break from his usual friendly attitude, and transform into a furious father figure.

"Why are you so mad? I spared us from facing the ugly toad's wrath!" she exclaimed, flexing her arms outward to emphasis her 'why'.

"That's not the point. It's talk like that, that strengthened all this prejudice in the first place," Arthur replied in a low tone, maintaining a stern look on his pale face, "And batting those little green eyes of yours won't save you, when they find out your blood status." With that being said, Arthur Weasley spun his heels in the other direction, and stalked off, leaving the dark haired lady, standing alone to ponder over what just happened.

-x-x-x-

'How are we suppose to protect ourselves, if we don't get our hands a little dirty?' Joce thought bitterly. She understood what the red headed wizard was trying to say, and maybe she had cocked up, but for now she didn't care. Sending potential Death Eaters off her trail was more important than respecting her own kind, at the moment.

"Well, well, looks like the Ministry's got themselves a little actress."

Joce whirled around to face the source of the new voice. There, sauntering his way on over was a single wizard. His eyes were a stunning blue-grey.

'It's him,' Not wanting to give the peculiar man any clues, that she was indeed acting, the young witch kept her mouth shut, as he stopped a couple feet in front of her.

"Funny how the word 'mudblood', changes everything," the man smirked deviously; "Don't you agree, love?"

"...How much of my conversations did you hear, exactly?" Joce calmly asked, her face losing a little colour in her expression. She didn't know what to expect. Did he hear everything, even her talk with Arthur? No, they were being too quiet for anyone to hear them…

"Why? You've got something to hide, beautiful?" he mused, watching intently as the girl's green eyes showed a subtle hint of fear, "'Cause I think, there's a reason you put on that brilliant performance."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled convincingly, masking any sign of fear, previously written on her features.

"Aw, don't be like that, Jocelynn." he teased, pausing a moment to enjoy her brow furrow in confusion, "Such a pretty little name you've got there, or did your real name slip toad face's mind?"

Just then, walking behind the handsome wizard were two of his comrades, coming to a stop when they found their other member. Pausing to take a gander at the lot, she figured they could be her escape plan; after all they did look like the impatient type.

"Sorry, to have to cut our chatter short, but I have to get back to work, and your…friends are waiting for you to return," she said, pointing over his shoulder. The handsome wizard craned his neck to briefly peer at the creepy men. When he turned back, Joce was already leaving.

"Aw c'mon love; you can hang around a little longer, can't you?" he shouted persistently.

Joce closed her eyes tightly, and robotically twirled around, opening them to shoot him an assuring glance, "No, I can't Mr—"

"Scabior," he called, "My name's Scabior."

"Scabior…" she replied trying the name out for herself, "And by the way; when I'm not getting yelled at by everyone, I go by the name Joce."

Scabior merely smiled, "Now that wasn't very difficult to tell me, now was it?"

Joce shook her head, as she departed down the atrium, letting that little encounter fall to the back of her mind. Joce could only guess that the man, Scabior, only heard her talk with Umbridge. And for now, she was safe…or so she thought.

-x-x-x-