Khgirl08: Wow, it's been a long time! I had meant to have this and the next chapter posted just before Christmas, but my computer died and I lost them. It was a sad sad time. I've rewritten this one, obviously, but the second half of Christmas Day will have to wait its turn. I hope you enjoy it, and I'm sorry this has been so long coming.
Dearest Percy,
Things are ever so slowly improving for me over here. As I predicted in my last letter, I'm now the proud aunt of one Lawrence Phillip Sedges. Both Larry and my sister are doing well, and I suspect that Abby's husband is grateful that her mood swings are beginning to slow down. My brothers and Daddy are already grooming him to be a football player. One week old and his favorite thing seems to be a stuffed ball. I sent a couple photos for you to look at, Muggle ones since I don't have any developing potion handy. Isn't he adorable?
I got an interview at the Beadles' store downtown, so with any luck when you see me next I'll be somewhat gainfully employed again. I'd much rather work somewhere with magical connections, but witches and wizards are rare about these parts. I'd have to move to Chicago or somewhere, and I just don't have the funds to do so. Besides, I have most of my family here.
I miss you dreadfully, though, and I pray that I can see you soon. I miss your smile, I miss watching you polish your glasses...I miss drifting off to sleep in your arms...I just miss you, Perce.
The Department of Magic here in the States is still bristling at Scrimgeour's lack of cordiality at the last meeting they had with him. And yes, I'm writing this point blank in the letter because I know whoever else reads it will be able to tell their friends too, and maybe the Ministry will finally listen. It didn't help that Umbridge made rude comments about our education system-I'm beginning to wonder if she ever knew anything about education, honestly.
Is there any sign of your application for a temporary visa being granted? I guess it's pointless to ask that, since I'll have my answer before you're allowed to write me. Scrimgeour's obviously not lightened up on that particular rule any. How he's allowed to do something like this is beyond me, but I suppose British politics are rather different than American. I just...Merlin, it's frustrating, only being able to hear from you once every two weeks, and in such short bursts at that.
I'd better wrap this up, because my letter is about to exceed the one page it's allowed to be. Take care of yourself, and hopefully I'll see you on Christmas Eve. If not...well, Merry Christmas and I love you.
All of my love,
Audrey
*Approved by Moggie Stimpins, Magical Post*
Percy read his girlfriend's latest letter for what felt like the millionth time while he sat at his surprisingly empty desk. Scrimgeour had been leaving the press out of the loop more often than not of late, and as such Percy's workload had become lighter than ever before. If this had ever happened while Fudge was in office, Percy would have found himself taking on extra duties or working part-time. But Scrimgeour was no Fudge, and preferred to keep everything in order, especially his office staff. Each staffer had a single job, and they were to work on tasks for that single job every Monday through Friday from 8 a.m. to 5:15 p.m. Some, like Percy, were expected to donate additional time for their jobs, like attending late-night press conferences. They were not paid overtime for this, nor were they given any time off to make up for their extra work hours.
The time Percy spent working didn't really bother him. It was the time he spent idly rereading letters or filling out crosswords from the Prophet that got on his nerves. He could lose himself in Audrey's letters for a good half hour or so, mostly comprised of daydreaming, and he could spend an hour on a crossword puzzle. This left him with seven and three quarter hours that he had to spend attempting to work. On days like this one, when Scrimgeour had not a bit of news to send to the papers, Percy was left with not a bit of work to attempt to do, and his mind wandered instead.
Today his thoughts were more tumultuous than usual, which was quite an accomplishment. But it was not altogether unsurprising given that Percy had been dealt a terrible lot in the Minister's office. Scrimgeour had taken Fudge's gift of a few extra days off last year and fashioned them into a knife to shove through Percy's already broken heart. "You got double time off last year, according to the records," he'd said with a grim smirk, "which means that you've got five days to make up. It's only right that you make it up at the same time of year."
So Percy sat at work, stewing over the fact that he was stuck in the Minister's office on Christmas morning instead of spending it in Wisconsin with his love, or even alone in his own flat. Almost any location would be better than this one.
"Ah, Mr. Weasley!" Percy straightened his back at the Minister's rough voice. "Good to see you're hard at work, as usual."
"Sir," he responded stiffly. "I wasn't expecting you this morning."
Scrimgeour leaned on Percy's cubicle wall, studying his junior minister. "I wasn't really expecting to see you, to be honest. I had thought you'd have fled away to America by now. I've even retrieved the proper deportation forms." Scrimgeour smiled, and Percy forced a grimace. "Yes, Weasley, you have surprised me. Perhaps it's only fair that I surprise you with a bit of Christmas cheer."
"I'm not sure what you're getting at, sir," Percy said.
"What I'm getting at is that I'm offering you a free pass on those make-up days as well as signing off on that temporary visa application sitting on my desk." The blood drained from Percy's face as the Minister continued to stare at him with that strange smile. "How does that sound for a Christmas bonus?"
"Exhilarating, sir," Percy breathed. "Thank you so much!"
Scrimgeour didn't move as Percy leaped from his chair. "There is a catch. I require your assistance at a rather tricky Christmas coup, so to speak. It requires a certain degree of cover, and some decent acting skills."
Percy furrowed his brow, but chose his words carefully. His heart, so light just moments ago, was now pitter-pattering at an alarming rate. "I don't wish to sound ungrateful, sir, nor insubordinate, but I'm just the press liaison. It sounds to me like you need the services of an Auror."
"Nonsense. Grab your cloak, Mr. Weasley, and take my arm." Percy did as the Minister asked, and soon felt himself Side-Along Disapparating. When his senses returned to him, his stomach plummeted. The sight of the village, the smell of chickens, and the distant sound of merry conversation assaulted him. "Ah, yes, here we are. Charming place."
"Why are we here, sir?" Percy croaked. "I thought you said-"
"There will be time for explanations, Mr. Weasley, but that time will be after we've had some Christmas brunch. Come." And with that, the Minister of Magic pushed open the creaky gate and directed Percy towards The Burrow.
Percy's body and spirit felt heavier with each step he took towards his family home. He should have expected some sort of trickery like this from his conniving boss, but the thought of possibly seeing Audrey for Christmas had blinded him momentarily. How would he be received? Why did the Minister want to come here, of all places, and especially on Christmas?
"Arthur, he's-he's with the Minister!" Percy inwardly flinched at his mother's shriek. How was he going to greet her after a year and a half of no words whatsoever?
"Your mother is Mindy, yes?"
"No, sir. Molly," he answered hollowly. The Minister grunted from behind him.
"Remember, Weasley. Pull this off believably or I'll make sure you never get to go to America for your girlfriend. Percy gulped deeply and nodded. He was at the kitchen door now. There was no more time before his nightmares came true. Steeling himself, he pushed the door open and faced his family. They were just as silent as he was, though the blood rushing through his ears made up for the quiet surroundings. Scrimgeour nudged him in the back with his walking stick.
"Merry Christmas, Mother."
"Oh, Percy!" And his arms were full of his mother before he could blink. Once she moved out of the way, he was able to confirm his thoughts on how the family would receive him. His father watched him suspiciously, and the twins had unbridled loathing in their expressions. Bill wasn't watching him at all, though the beautiful Miss Delacour may have been distracting him. Percy now realized why she had seen fit to attack him last year about this time.
He was dimly aware of the Minister coming up with some story or another to explain their presence today, but his mind was too focused on his family. Ginny was standing, much like their mother, but she looked markedly less pleased at his arrival. Ron pushed food around his plate, not really eating but obviously trying to keep his eyes off his brother. Remus Lupin, of all people, was doing his best to shrink into the background of the kitchen, as if he didn't want to be spotted by the Ministry workers. His presence seemed much less somehow than it had been at the Ministry in June.
When Percy met the narrowed eyes of the other man at the end of the table, he immediately understood the Minister's objective in coming to The Burrow. Everyone in the Minister's office knew that Dumbledore had forbidden a meeting between Harry Potter and Scrimgeour. The latter had decided to take matters into his own hands and ambush the boy when he would least expect it.
"It's fine. Fine." Percy started when Harry stood from his chair and made his way across the kitchen. Percy, in turn, was led to Harry's old seat by Molly. Lupin smiled wanly at him, but he could practically feel negative emotions rolling from Ron to his left and Ginny across the table. His mother blithely served him a fresh plate of Christmas dinner, apparently oblivious to the animosity between her children.
"Percy, I can't tell you-best Christmas gift I could ever hope for-so wonderful of you to come home!"
He attempted to smile, but he was on the edge of fleeing the room. He wished he could summon up some of the courage that Gryffindors supposedly held, because he felt anything but courageous at this point. Cowardly? Terrified? Absolutely. Not brave. Not even close to brave.
Percy took one bite of his turkey before the impending onslaught began. "It's true, Perce," Ginny started lightly. "We're so grateful you brought your boss to interrupt our Christmas dinner so he could twist Harry's arm into something stupid for the Ministry."
"Ginevra!" Molly swelled in anger. "That is no way to speak to your brother!"
"Ginny, Mum's right," said Fred, his tone suspiciously placating. "If you ever actually say something like to that one of us, you should apologize immediately."
Percy finally swallowed his first bite of turkey, though it had turned to sawdust in his mouth. "H-how's the shop going, Fred and George? I've heard about it from some friends at work."
"Oh, it's great," said George airily. "I think our newest product is going to be something to give unwanted visitors some nasty surprises upon their arrival."
"Maybe some boils-"
"Or dragonpox rash-"
"Or some good old fashioned warts." The twins weren't pretending to be kind anymore, but Percy swallowed and did his best to ignore it.
"That sounds...lovely. And you, Ginny, Ron? How is school? I heard that you had both made the Quidditch team last year, so I presume you're still flying this year?"
"That's right," said Ron quietly. "I'm Keeper. Gin's Chasing this year since Harry's able to Seek again. Who told you?"
"Dolores Umb-"
"Oh, you would rub elbows with Umbitch, wouldn't you?!" Ginny shouted. "Merlin, Percy, you just get better and better each time I see you!"
"Ginevra!" Molly started, but Percy set down his fork and looked at his sister sternly.
"Now, Ginevra, I understand that you ran afoul of Dolores several times last term, but I must insist that you stop using such negative nomenclatures for her. She is not, as you have described her, a 'bitch'. Dolores is lovely once you get to know her."
"Lovely, is she?" said George. "Yeah, it was real sweet of her to ban us and Harry from Quidditch for one fight, and to steal our brooms at that."
"Saccharine, even," added Fred.
"And the way she forced Harry and Lee Jordan and who knows who else to use Blood Quills during detention, that was just angelic," growled Ron. "My favorite part of last year was when she forbid us to use any spells in Defense."
Percy didn't say a word, but that didn't seem to matter to his younger siblings. Before Ron was done speaking, Percy was flecked with several spoonfuls of Christmas dinner. He stood, sent one last glare around the table, and stormed from the house to retrieve the Minister.
Harry met him just outside the door, looking rather pleased with himself. His pleasure was not so great, however, that he couldn't spare Percy a parting glare. Percy returned it with equal gusto; if Harry Potter hadn't been here, he wouldn't have been forced so unceremoniously onto his family's doorstep, and there might have been some spark of hope that he could come back into their good graces. This hope was long gone.
Scrimgeour met him at the entrance to the garden, and he seemed almost as angry as Percy himself. "Outrageous!" he whispered. "How dare he speak to me like that?! Impertinent brat!"
Percy removed his glasses and wiped the parsnips from them. He dearly wanted to assure the Minister that he was, indeed, impertinent, but didn't dare for the sake of getting his time off. "I suppose your plan didn't unfold as you had hoped, sir?"
"The Potter boy is every bit as stubborn and stupid as Dumbledore," Scrimgeour said. "Truth be told, I'm well glad to be rid of him. To have to pretend to work with the boy happily would have been horrifying. I daresay Dolores was right about him, he's let his importance go to his head."
Percy, although still feeling very angry with Harry, felt his anger at Scrimgeour rise at these words. Taking a calming breath, he closed his eyes and hoped for the best. "Sir, you told me that I had to come here today in order to receive my vacation days and my visa. I played my part and got you into The Burrow, so I ask now that my requests may be granted."
Scrimgeour turned to him with a furious expression, and for several long moments Percy was afraid that he would be immediately sentenced to Azkaban for such a proposal. Instead, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Percy. "Take this to the Portkey office when you're ready. You have today and the next four days off from work."
Afraid that it was a joke, or that there would be another catch, Percy slowly unfolded the paper. It was nothing more than the Minister's signature, but those five words were enough to lift Percy's heart nearly out of its pit of despair. "Thank you, sir. Happy Christmas." And Percy Disapparated from Ottery St. Catchpole before the Minister could say another word.
