Summary: Percy finds more than he bargained for when he returns to the Burrow for the holidays.

Disclaimer: Angel belongs to Joss Whedon, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing some of their characters for some holiday cheer.

A/N: This was originally written for the 2004 Twisting the Hellmouth Fic For All challenge, #45 Fred/Percy Weasley pairing. Assuming that the HP graduated in the same timeline the series started, Percy is about 27 at the time of the holiday season during AtS Season Five. Considering Percy is fairly likable, this is either AU or wishful thinking that his personality will improve after the events of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.

A Match Made in Cauldrons

"Don't touch that!"

The hand Percy Ignatius Weasley had been inching toward a cauldron froze as he turned to look at the brunette occupying the doorway to his bedroom. Coming home for the holidays was always a risk to his sanity. Year after year, his family managed to that left him intensely vulnerable for a nervous breakdown. In comparison to the potion the twins had poured into the holiday meal the previous Christmas that left everyone's noses blinking red for two days, an invasion into his personal space by an unknown woman should be easy to handle. Percy opened his mouth to retort that he had no such inclination to dip his hand into an unknown substance, and stopped short

The girl must have misinterpreted his expression, for she tilted her head to the side apologetically and rushed to correct her exclamation. "I mean, I wouldn't touch the Bundimum if you're fond of your fingers. It's pretty caustic. You'd probably wind up with holes in your hand, or fingernails falling out, or something else that probably hurts."

There was a woman (since Percy now took notice that the attractive female was much more than a simple girl) babbling in his bedroom and boiling Bundimum fungus in an old cauldron. In all honesty, he should have been expecting the green goo bubbling merrily in the corner of the room to be so destructive. However, between her distracting foreign accent and the innocent glint in her brown eyes, he was having difficulty making use of his vocal cords. Perhaps his mystification was readily apparent, for the woman stepped closer and held out her hand. "I can't believe I haven't introduced myself. I'm Fred Burkle," she said.

"Percy," he replied, dazedly shaking her hand.

"Oh!" Fred exclaimed. "You're Percy!" Immediately, Percy became suspicious. Most people still knew him from his escapades as former-Minister Fudge's right-hand wizard or the haughty member of the most recent Weasley brood. Neither were flattering (or accurate, in his opinion) descriptions of his personality, and he was not looking forward to a contemptuous comment. Instead, Fred uttered a sound that sounded like meep and wringing her hands nervously.

"I am so sorry to have invaded your room. You see, your dad mentioned that Molly grew Bundimum in your garden, and I needed some pure samples for a new project we're starting in the department, then I made the connection between your name from the cauldron consumer reports I'd read and your father's last name, and boom! I've set up shop in the bedroom of a boy I've never met and been invited to spend Christmas in a very unique home."

"Wait," Percy interrupted, one of her comments sinking in over the others. "You've read my reports on the thickness of cauldron bottoms?"

"Oh, yes," she gushed. "You were so right! Regular equipment from the labs aren't strong enough to handle the secretions, and the cauldrons in California have such shoddy craftsmanship that I ended up needing to look for one while I was over here in jolly old England." Fred paused to breathe (the first time Percy noticed her do so) before adding, "Not that I'm making fun of England. I have a very good friend who's British, and I know he can be non-jolly."

Touched by the sincerity of her words, Percy reached out and stilled her overwrought hands. "I'm glad someone found the information useful." Appraisingly, he glanced between the cauldron and the amusing visitor standing by his side. "You know, my mother would beat me over the head if she thought I was being inhospitable to a guest. Since we're already established that my cauldron is durable enough to withstand its task, why don't we head downstairs and enjoy a mug of steaming cocoa?"

Fred smiled and held her arm out. "Lead on, Master Percy. Maybe those funny twin brothers of yours will be down there too."

With Miss Burkle's arm tucked under his, Percy doubted the antics of his entire family could bother him this holiday season.

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