At first, Percy barely noticed the same day was repeating itself, over and over. His life was a series of routines, after all, things that occurred on schedules. Meticulous actions gave Percy the ordered life he craved, and he derived a sense of contentment from always knowing what would happen next.

It was an ordinary Thursday. Percy woke, stumbled blearily to the loo, took a piss, made himself a cup of tea, got dressed as it steeped, read the Daily Prophet while he drank and then travelled by Floo the Ministry at five to nine, as he did every day. It was all normal paperwork and catching up on the last day's messages for the first hour, until his departmental meeting with Kingsley at ten.

So he hardly noticed the same song on the wizarding wireless in the morning, or even the lunch choice in the Ministry cafe being the same as it was yesterday. It was a bit of a tip-off, however, that something was awry, when everyone else seemed to suddenly acquire a routine they'd never bothered to affect before. Everyone else’s normal behaviour was erratic and random, something Percy hated. So when, three days in a row, everyone seemed to do the same things at the same time, Percy became suspicious.

The rather repetitive news coverage in the Daily Prophet was a bit of a tip off, as well.

Nonetheless, Percy continued about his routine, going to work every day and filing reports, only have them to reappear on his desk the next day. He carried on the same inane conversations with his co-workers, casting them strained smiles as he breezed about the corridors. He ate the same food, read the same book, went to bed at the same time. Nothing around him changed or moved forward; everything was in perfect order.

It was also bloody boring. After two weeks, Percy started to get restless. He made the brash decision to start mixing things up a bit – but he made sure not to go too far in case things went back to normal. At first it was just small things – a grammatical mistake in his cauldron report, using the wrong name to greet a co-worker. Still he woke up the next day to find it was still the same day.

Thursday again and again and again.

Never Friday. Never the weekend. Only Thursday.

Two months and Percy had had it. He threw caution to the wind – skived off work when he felt like it; nothing. Waltzed into his office without his trousers on (earning a raised eyebrow from Kingsley); nothing. His behaviour escalated until he found himself shouting at people who had always been rude to him, gorging himself on sweets knowing he'd never see the adverse effects, using the Floo to call old girlfriends (okay, just one) and informing them they'd never satisfied him in bed, telling Kingsley to go fuck himself, just to see what he would do. The in-the-moment results were horrifying, but eventually Percy stopped caring because it wouldn't matter. Tomorrow would be a new day. Or the same day. Same difference.