Ever since he'd made the decision to come see George about that little problem, his brother had taken to bugging him about it.

"Say something," he'd hiss whenever they were in close proximity with each other. It was low enough where most people didn't hear it, that much Percy could appreciate. At least his brother wasn't yelling about it on the rooftops for it to suddenly become everybody's business.

Still, for once, he wished George could have enough sense to stay out of it instead of putting his nose further in where it didn't belong. It was his situation to deal with, not that it was much of a situation in the first place. It was just...minor. Just a minor obstacle to get over, not that it required much effort.

Because it wasn't a situation.

It just wasn't.

And he didn't want to turn it into some spectacle for all to witness. He was over it, mostly. The anger that he'd felt so strongly had washed away, as did his uncertainty that Atkinson had brought on. He just didn't want to deal with it anymore, he was quite eager to brush it under the rug, to forget about it and move on.

Now he was just rather embarrassed.

It wasn't supposed to happen him, being questioned about his capability as a parent. At one point in time, he'd dreamed up of having his own family. Naturally, he'd envisioned having a wife to do it all with him and even if things hadn't gone the way he'd planned, it was still alright. He knew it was going to be difficult. But people like him could handle it. He was supposed to be able to do everything and no one was supposed to think otherwise because people like him had everything under control.

That feeling of failure was still lingering. It just...if he was really a good parent, then Atkinson should have never found any fault. Right? He didn't know how to deal with all those jumbled thoughts. Anytime he'd get so caught up in his own self-pity, George's voice would come back to him as a reminder that he was a good parent, that he did know what he was doing and that woman was just barmy.

But it wasn't easy to set aside those same insecurities that were resurfacing from years and years of doubt over other things in his life. Now, it was louder. And it hurt worse because of who it was concerning.

That night, he'd explained everything to the girls. They'd understood it all after asking a few questions for clarification Overall, they reacted much better than he initially anticipated on. He'd been most concerned for Lucy and how she would deal with the matter, emotionally speaking. She was much more sensitive than her sister and he'd feared that she was going to end up in tears after hearing what that woman said. It meant he was a little more careful with his wording, but still giving the truth. Surprisingly, Lucy had been fine. She neither cried or expressed any sadness, whatsoever; although, she did attempt to snuggle deeper into his side.

A part of Percy was also unsure of how Molly was going to react to it. She could withstand more than Lucy could, it wasn't the subject that he thought would be an issue; it was her temper. It was going to get her in trouble one day. She had no qualms whatsoever about using her fists to get results, something that he was trying very hard to get her to break. He swore he didn't know where she got all that from. Even with the fights they'd had between them, Audrey wasn't the type of person to let her temper fly as often as Molly's was occurring. And he sure never had that problem.

But he digressed.

Oh, Percy didn't have any doubt at all that if she could, or if she found a way, Molly would march right up to the Ministry and confront Atkinson herself. That was exactly what he was hoping not to deal with. Much as he admired how determined his daughter could be, there was a time and a place for it.

Once the chore of telling the girls was out of the way, it only left him to deal with George and his ever so irritating persistence. He was of the opinion that Percy needed to inform Kingsley or someone regarding Miss Atkinson's atrocious behavior.

Never mind the fact that perhaps Percy didn't want to start unnecessary conflict between them.

But his brother just didn't understand. He knew that George was trying to look out for him, not only because he did care but also as some sort of repayment method for how he (and Fred) had treated him during their childhood. He knew that none of it was right and he should say something, but George...

The environment in the Ministry and the shop were vastly different. He held no desire to be thought of as a snitch or tattletale or whatever clever name they thought of calling him behind his back in a not-so-subtle way. That was exactly what was going to happen if he brought the encounter to anyone's attention. They might think there was no real issue at all and he was merely being overdramatic or worse, they might agree.

Was it so wrong to say that he just wanted to forget about it?

Apparently, so.

George refused to let the matter rest.

"Just drop it," Percy said, frustratedly. This was one of several times that it was brought up and he fed up with it. "I've had enough."

"Oh, come on, Perce!" George was right behind him, following him. "I know you don't wanna cause any trouble, but this isn't just about you."

Percy turned around, eyeing his brother, his lips becoming pursed. "What are you talking about?"

George seemed relieved that he was at least hearing him out. "She didn't just insult you. She insulted every bloke out there that's got a child." Percy sighed. "How about this, then: What if she said it to me?"

"What?" Percy furrowed his brows.

"What if she said that to me, or Bill, or Ron. That we shouldn't raise our kids."

"But you all have wives."

George groaned. "Oh, just pretend, will you? How would that make you feel?"

He would have been furious, that's for sure. To insinuate that is brothers were less than capable would be ridiculous. They were more than qualified and didn't deserve to have any of that pushed to the side.

He shouldn't have been thought of less than a parent simply because Audrey had chosen to out herself from the picture. It wasn't fair at all, not to mention, that an unfounded assertion. He was more than dedicated to making sure his girls were happy, healthy and loved. He certaintly wasn't going to let some...some...some harpy tell him that his children would be better off raised by someone else.

Percy rarely let his temper fly. He almost always had a very good grasp on it. Better than some of his siblings had. But when it came to some selective things, in this case, his daughters, it took so much strength for him not to have immediately lashed out at her. His protective instincts had been ignited.

And so the night before, when he tossed and turned, bothered by an inability to fall asleep, George's words came back to him.

"She didn't just insult you. She insulted every bloke out there that's got a child."

Curse his brother for knowing that Percy couldn't just continue to stand down after hearing that. If there was one thing about him, it was that he wouldn't just stand back and to the side when others were facing the same injustice. It would be all too easy not to say anything, let the matter fall away and soon forget that it was brought up in the first place.

But then she'd think she was correct by doing it. She'd get away with it. She would go on and do it to someone else. Some other bloke out there would be told the very same thing Percy was told. They may or may not do something about it. And the vicious cycle would continue.

He'd sighed.

Causing trouble was the last thing he ever wanted to do. But this might be the one time where it was worth it.

Percy strode confidently down the corridor where Atkinson's office was located. Bright and early, he'd gone to George's shop-before his brother was awake. He greeted Angie and graciously accepted the cup of coffee she offered him while she went to go wake him up-to inform him of what he was going to do.

"Can I come?" George asked, eagerly.

Angie hit him on the shoulder. "You have a shop to run," she reminded him.

"Lee or V can take over for a bit. I wanna see her face when she gets it!"

Percy loved his brother dearly but knew better than to bring George anywhere near the woman, as there was no telling what he would attempt to do. Merlin, last he needed was for her to be turned into a canary or spitting out glitter or whatever product he'd slip to her.

He knocked on the door politely. It was half-way open, so he could get a glimpse of her working at her desk, head down until she heard him. Then she glanced up, surprise clouding her features. She stood up, smoothing down her robes. "Mr. Weasley," she was obviously caught off guard, but nonetheless, she was welcoming him. "It's good to see you. How may I help you?"

He did not reciprocate her smile. Instead, he got right down to business. "You do recall our previous conversation, yes?"

She nodded slowly. Her facial expression indicated uneasiness, confusion. "Yes. Quite well. What of it?"

He placed his hands in the pockets of his robes. "You see, I've been doing some thinking about what you said."

Her smile returned and she clasped her hands together. "Have you? Oh, good. It's really in your children's best interest that you have. May I inquire as to what your thoughts were?"

"You may," he said, coolly. "Quite simply put, Miss Atkinson, I think you're stark raving mad."

Her eyes widened. She took a step back, not expecting the harshness that came from him. "Pardon me?"

"Everything you said to me was pure madness on your part. You don't know me. You don't know my family. You don't know my children. And you certainly don't know what I've been through. Yet, you felt it was entirely permissible to come seek me out to push this utter nonsense on me."

"Hang on-Mr. Weasley, I'm sorry if you felt that I ambushed you like that but there's no need to be upset over it," Atkinson put up her hands as she spoke to him.

He stared at her incredulously. "No need to be upset? You think I can't take care of my own children. Of course I'm bloody upset!"

"I didn't exactly say it in those words-"

"Oh? Oh, really? You asked me whether it was appropriate and whether it was wise for me to be doing it by myself. What am I suppose to assume?" he snapped.

"I only asked because I believe it's in the best interest for your girls," she tried to say but was promptly cut off.

"And what of that includes you? As far as I'm concerned, it's really none of your business."

She decided to change her tactics. "I understand it's difficult to accept a different point of view. We're all human. We hate change. But this isn't just about you. This is about your children Your little girls. And if you really want what's best for them, then please consider my suggestion about your family being more involved. I assure you it will help them tremendously in the long run."

She was wearing the most infuriating smile. As if Percy was being terribly irrational and she was having to be utmost patient with him. She really saw no issue with what she'd done.

"You really are mad," he declared with a scoff and the smile vanished. He paced around some, stopping mid-way and turning back to her. "You think I'm going to let you talk to me the way you did and agree with you?"

"Mr. Weasley, I think it would be best if we take some calming deep breaths and approach the topic maturely," she was speaking to him so bloody patronizingly. Like he was some small child. One of her clients. "It will do us no good to become angry."

"Then perhaps you should have thought of that before coming into my office unannounced and so presumptuous when you don't even know me," Percy said, hotly.

Atkinson was visibly flustered. She kept needlessly adjusting her robes and he saw how her eyes were looking past him, most likely looking to see if someone was going to come to her rescue. "With all due respect-" He actually snorted at that. "I have years of experience and schooling with this sort of thing. Majority of fathers just aren't properly built to handle parenthood by themselves. There's no reason to be ashamed of it. Rather, embrace it. Know that you can't and be willing to ask for help. You could not, as you've been doing, but at the expense of your girls."

"Miss Atkinson," he cut her off again, to prevent her from spewing out anymore nonsense. "Do you have any children of your own by chance?"

She straightened up her posture. "No, Mr. Weasley. I do not. However, I have studied childhood development during my training. I do believe that's as good as having one of my own."

"And I do believe that you are mistaken," he spat out. "You see, Miss Atkinson, you can learn a lot from studying, I'll give you that, but it's so much more different when you're raising one of your own."

"That may be so," Atkinson reluctantly admitted. "But you shouldn't devalue the educating aspect of it, either."

"I am not devaluing it at all. I'm simply informing you of the differences. Being that you don't have any children of your own, I'm going to assume you've never been woken up in the middle of the night by a crying infant? Or dealt with a picky eater that insist on wailing at the mere sight of a vegetable? Or nightmares? Or tantrums? Tell me, during your training, did you ever actually interact with a child?" he raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

"Well, not exactly-"

"Either you did or you did not, Miss Atkinson. Please answer the question."

"No," she muttered, her mouth twisting into a forced smile that looked like it was painful. "We used enchanted dummies."

"I see," and he would be outright lying if he said he didn't feel a smidgen of satisfaction. "So I'm sure you are well aware that those aren't an adequate substitute for a child either? A child has far more complexing emotions than a dummy could ever have; enchanted or not."

She went rigid, her own lips pursing. "Are you insulting my education, Mr. Weasley?"

"No, Miss Atkinson, I am not. I just want you to understand that your education isn't the same as my education."

"I haven't said anything about-"

"Not my scholarly education. The education I've gotten from raising my daughters. I've learned a lot from them and it's made me a better father. I don't doubt that your training has made you a bit more knowledgeable in your career path, but parenting has also made me knowledgeable in knowing my girls. I know them inside and out and quite frankly, I'm thoroughly insulted that you seem to think otherwise."

"I think you've taken what I've said out of context," Atkinson said after clearing her throat.

"Do you know what my daughters worst fears are, or what insecurity bothers them the most?" He didn't give her any time to respond before moving on. "Do you know what their dream career is after they graduate? Do you know how they like to be comforted after a bad day? Do you know what makes them feel better when they're sick? Do you know basic things like like their favorite color or their favorite hobby? Do you know who they look up to? Do you know anything about them?" he looked her straight in the eye. "Because I do. I may not be a woman, but I've taken the time to know my daughters. And I will do whatever I have to in order for my girls to be happy and healthy and whether or not you approve, well, quite frankly I don't care."

He inhaled. It felt good to get that off his chest.

Atkinson had stiffened during his spiel. Her head went higher, her lips pursed again and he had a feeling he was about to hear a load of nonsense come from her. Which would have been incredible if it somehow surpassed the level of ridiculousness he'd already heard. "While it's apparent you have...strong feelings about the matter, I don't think this is the appropriate time to be discussing this."

"You don't?" He raised his eyebrows.

She shook her head. "Mr. Weasley, I am more than happy to discuss this with you but barging into my office without even asking if it was convenient for me is hardly professional."

His first instinct was to lash out at the blatant audacity she had in using that tone with him. As if she hadn't done the same thing to him and this was a means of targeting her. Was she aware of that or was she that deluded? "You mean as you did to me?" he clarified.

"No, no," Atkinson said, quickly. He imagined she was trying to remedy the situation. To undo the damage with an excuse. "I came at the end of the day. I made sure it wasn't going to interfere with anything."

"As am I," he nodded and with a flick of his wand, the door shut. "You've still fifteen minutes. Which gives me plenty of time to inform you why your statements are not only offensive to me but to any father out there."

"I really don't have time for this," she started to say.

He brightened up his demeanor, admittedly out of pure spite. "Oh, nor did I. Actually, I'd been intending to go home and spend a nice, quiet evening with my daughters but I'd been polite, hadn't I, Miss Atkinson? Hadn't I listened to you? hadn't I answered your questions instead of running off?"

"Yes," she ground out, having been forced to admit it.

"Then I think you can extend the same courtesy to me, can't you?" He smiled.

"Of course," her own smile became rather fixed. She backed up to sit on the edge of her desk, crossing her legs at the ankles. "By all means, continue, Mr. Weasley."

He drew out a breath. "How dare you," he wanted to say so much more. Many, many things that a man of his job title should never say within the establishment. "How dare you, for one moment, even think that a man couldn't properly take care of his own children. It's entirely ridiculous. Part of the reason I am the man I am today is because of my dad. He did everything he could for us and more."

"Which is fantastic...for you," Atkinson said, pointedly, having gained some of her confidence back. "But not everyone has a loving father."

"And not everyone has a loving mother," Percy shot back.

"Mr. Weasley...Percy-"

"Mr. Weasley is fine," he said, curtly.

She looked like she swallowed a lemon. "Right. Mr. Weasley. It seems we're just going in circles here. There are things that a man simply cannot handle doing for his daughters, especially by himself. I don't think that is difficult to comprend."

"And pray tell, what might those be?"

"For one thing, her menstrual cycle," Atkinson brought up the subject again. "How do you intend to help her when you haven't experienced it yourself?"

She thought she had him there. She thought he would concede to defeat. But Percy Weasley was no quitter. "Quite simply," he said without faltering, "buy her the appropriate products and discuss what's necessary and should she wish to talk to a woman, she'll have plenty to choose from."

He continued, "You may choose to believe in that load of drigon dung but I do not. And I'll not have you speak about my family like that. Until you've been a parent, Miss Atkinson-until you've had to tackle all of responsibility yourself and be in the circumstances that I've been in, you won't understand. That's fine. But keep whatever advice you may have to yourself and I'll keep raising my girls my way."

Atkinson was tight lipped, unappreciative of being told off. "If that what you wish," she said, eventually, thoroughly displeased. "I suppose there is no convincing you otherwise."

"There isn't."

"Then I don't see any reason for us to be talking about this subject anymore," she said, curtly.

"Most likely," he agreed. He was about to turn on his heel when he paused. "I do have one more thing to say to you."

"Which is?" she maintained a polite persona but he saw through it; she wanted nothing more then for him to be gone and out of her office.

"I talked to Kingsley about your rather unprofessional behavior," he said, to which she froze, "he'll be seeing you in, say-" he checked his watch, "right now." It was so silent that a pin could have dropped and made a sound. "Do have a good day, Miss Atkinson."

He strode out of there with the smallest hint of a smile.