"Miss Turner? Are you awake?"

Abigail cracked open an eye and glanced over to her bedroom doorway. She sat up in bed hurriedly. "Sir? What are you doing here?"

The Minister smiled shyly and held up a small basket. "I figured you might like some soup." His smile grew wider. "My mother's recipe, so it's the best there is." He walked into the room and crossed to sit on the foot of the bed, setting the basket on the floor beside him. "How are you feeling?"

Abigail smiled weakly. "I'm alright," she said hoarsely, wincing as the words grated against her throat. "I should be fine to come in tomorrow-"

Percy held up a hand to stop her. "I don't think so," he retorted as he searched her tired face. "You look exhausted." Indeed, she had dark circles under her eyes from coughing herself awake at night, and she was incredibly pale. He shook his head; no way was he going to let her come to work in that condition. "You're going to stay at home until you're completely recovered, and no buts about it."

The girl sighed, withholding a smile. "Yes sir," she replied patiently. "Whatever you say."

Percy grinned. "Don't you 'whatever you say' me, Miss Turner! I know where you live."

Abigail laughed as much as her sore throat would allow, eventually terminating into a cough. She winced; whatever bug she'd caught at the office wasn't friendly.

Speaking of friendly... A thought occurred to Abigail. It wasn't the first time that it had, but, maybe due to her sickness, it was the first time she'd had the courage to say something. "Sir, you know, it's a little strange that you still refer to me as 'Miss Turner.'" She hesitated for a moment. "You can call me Abigail. After all, you are my boss."

The Minister of Magic raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I hadn't noticed." He laughed at the withering glare the girl hurled in his direction. "A novel idea indeed! In that case, you can call me Percy. After all, you are my brain."

The assistant smiled as she leaned back against her pillow. "Hmm. Percy. It sounds nice." She yawned widely, her eyes drooping.

Percy smiled tenderly at the girl. "Yes, it does," he whispered in reply. He stood to leave, but a thought occurred to him. "Abigail," he called softly, regretting keeping the girl from her sleep.

Abigail forced her eyes to open. "Yes si- um, Percy?" she asked sleepily.

The man ran a hand through his hair. "I was wondering, if you didn't have any other plans, if you would maybe like to accompany me to visit my family on Christmas later this month? You don't have to," he added quickly, "not if you don't want to..."

A wide smile spread across the girl's face. "I'd like that very much, Percy," she informed him.

Relief washed over the red-head and he grinned. "Wonderful!" In a show of rare emotion, he bent down and brushed the hair off of his assistant's face. "Now get some sleep," he ordered softly, "and floo me when you're absolutely one-hundred percent well again."

Abigail nodded automatically, not really paying attention to his words. She was still stuck on the small display of emotion that had occurred only moments before. Had he really touched her? Her heart fluttered at the thought as she watched his retreating form. Maybe being sick wasn't so bad.