Percy huffed through the Gryffindor common room, having half a mind to throw the wooly lump he held in his hands into the crackling fire. He needed to get rid of this horrible excuse of a jumper as soon as possible. The past few years he had kept the annual Christmas gift from his mum to appease her. But he was fifteen now, and a Prefect. For some reason, he felt that being a Prefect gave him a sort of unspoken authority over his own life, not just the students.

What was he to do with this grey, itchy jumper? Despite being the epitome of disaster, it was still from his mother, so he couldn't just throw it into a trash bin. Perhaps the Giant Squid would take it, but the lake was currently frozen over. Maybe a young Muggle-born student, uncomfortable in wizard clothing would happily pay him a Sickle or two for it. It didn't matter how he got rid of it; all that mattered was that his accursed brothers could no longer force it on him and ridicule him endlessly. They didn't even bother to consider the fact that he, Percy, might actually care about his apperance. The well-groomed air he gave off wasn't just for respect anymore; even intellectuals like him were bound to be interested in romantic endeavors. And dull, chunky, hand-spun jumpers weren't going to help in either facet whatsoever.

Percy stationed himself in the Entrance Hall, looking for a suitable customer for his grey ball of lint. The few students who had remained at Hogwarts over the holidays came bustling to and fro in groups, deeply flushed from the icy winds and bitter cold of the outdoors. Many didn't even take notice of the tall Prefect, assuming he was simply patrolling the hall, as was normal when he had nothing more pressing to do. It became monotonous, routine, but Percy had no problem with it. He just leaned against the wall lazily, his eyes half-open, in an almost haughty sort of way. What Percy had always liked about Hogwarts was that sometimes the magic there took over more than one would think. Even right now, he felt as though he was outside, with the powdery snow falling on him.

Which it was.

"Oooh! Sneezily Weasley, dropping snow on you so easily!" Peeves the Poltergeist scooped up clumps of tracked-in snow and zipped about Percy overhead, pelting him.

Percy bristled, his eyebrows furrowing and his cheeks burning. "Peeves! Don't make me call the Baron!" He threw down his jumper in anger and reached for his wand.

"A most very scary un-merry Christmas!" Peeves cackled and blew a raspberry.

"Go AWAY!" Percy picked up his jumper and in an uncharacteristic rush of anger, heaved it at the ghostly nuisance. Normally, Percy would have just lobbed more threats Peeves's way, but after the morning spent with Fred and George harassing him, his temper was running short. The jumper, of course, went right through Peeves, but was enough to send the poltergeist zooming away, shrieking with mirth.

Percy ran his hands through his once-neat hair multiple times, combing out the dripping snow, and wiped the droplets off his glasses with his robe. When he slid his spectacles back on, the hideous jumper he was so desperately trying to rid himself up was staring him in the face. "Here you are," said a soft voice from behind it.

Reluctantly, Percy took back his Christmas gift, and found that he was staring at an entirely different sight. He knew this girl, this attractive girl with long, curly blonde hair. He'd watched her in the library often, diligently and quietly going about her work. It was endearing, as seldom did the Ravenclaws he knew refrain from lauding over other hard-working students that they were the more "intelligent bunch." She just walked in, silently scribbled away on her parchment, and left, always with a cheerfulness surrounding her. "Thank you, Persephone." He replied after a brief silence.

She smiled at him. Funny. He didn't get smiles directed at him very often, much less from females. "It's Penelope. Penelope-"

Now it clicked. "Clearwater, yes. I've seen your name in many of the books I've signed out at the library."

Penelope pursed her lips, trying to hide a broader smile. "Why are you searching for my name, Percy?"

"I wouldn't call it searching so much as noticing," Percy answered a little too quickly. His spinning brain told him to remain calm, remain collected. Remain Percy Weasley. "I suppose you could say you're hard not to notice."

Penelope giggled. It was barely audible, but she had giggled. He, Percy, had made a delightful girl like Penelope Clearwater giggle. And there was no one around to witness it.

She put her hand out and softly stroked the shirt he held in his arms. "Is this one of those jumpers I've see the twins wear the past few years?"

"Yes, it is that atrocity that you speak of." Percy's eyes flitted between looking at Penelope and watching her hand going over the fuzzy cloth.

"And why don't you ever wear it? I think it's charming. Not in the normal sense, but charming nonetheless." Her eyes had left the jumper and were now focusing deeply into Percy's.

"I don't wear it because I have a shred of dignity," Percy replied harshly.

Penelope nodded slowly, and for a split-second looked as if she were about to continue the conversation. Instead she glanced down at the floor and back up at him. "I'll see you around, Percy."

'See you around, Percy'? Splendid. Percy mentally kicked himself for not furthering his opportunity with Penelope. "See you around, Percy," was what Ron would say when he left the Great Hall, albeit in a more biting way. It was not the sort of words he'd wished to hear from whom he believed to be the prettiest girl in Ravenclaw House.

As Penelope started toward the staircase, Percy again threw his jumper. He hoped to every higher power that he would not hit her. With luck, it skidded just in front of her, brushing past her shoes. Penelope whirled around, with a rather demanding expression on her face.

"Do you want it?" Percy asked, with a tone in his voice that almost made it a command and not a question.

"Excuse me?"

"The jumper. I can't stand it, and there's a large 'P' knitted onto it. Perhaps you'd like it more than me."

Penelope held it up to herself. It ended around her knees, and the sleeves had enough room for her to have an extra set of hands. She raised an eyebrow, incredulous, and walked back over to Percy. "I'll take it, on one condition: I want to see you in it first."

Percy laughed through his nose. "I really don't think so. I can't come up with any circumstance where I would voluntarily wear that."

Penelope started to grin. "Not even if it were to go to Hogsmeade? With me?"

"Well. I didn't think of that. And I did say a circumstance that I could think of. That, well...that was not one of them." Percy fussed with the collar of his robes as Penelope approached him, shaking her head but still smiling demurely.

"You could just say 'yes'."

"Yes, Penelope. I'd like to, very much."

The next day, Molly Weasley was greeted by Percy's eagle owl, Hermes, who had a letter tied to one of his legs.

Mother,

I kindly thank you for the Christmas gifts, especially the jumper. I'll be getting much use out of it this winter.

Your loving son,
Percy

Um, so I wrote this five and a half years ago. I know, right? Haha. I just spruced it up a bit but it's mostly the same as when I wrote it. I'm not really into HP fandom anymore but with Christmas approaching, I thought I'd dig it up and slap it onto the site. God, I absolutely love Percy, he's been my favorite character since I read the first book...what, like 8 years ago? And there's not even any pairing I really prefer with him, but hey. I hope you all enjoyed this, I never really wrote that many HP things but this one I've always been so proud of. Happy Holidays :)