Title: You Needed Me -11 & 12 July 1995
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's. General Robert E. Lee belongs to history. My twisted chess book version belongs to me.

A/N: Thank you once again to my reviewers, Strega Brava, Merii, Myr, Artema, Just Silver, Ruka-chan, LadyVoldemort, UserFriendly and Rubicon.

General Lee has no discernable Southern (U.S.) accent because some attempts at writing out the pronunciation of a Southern accent render the dialogue virtually unrecognizable. I chose not to take that chance. Plus, he was from Northern Virginia, and thus probably didn't have a thick Georgia-type accent anyhow.

Also, since Percy's full Christian name could very well be Percival, I've decided that his parents were on an Arthurian legend kick at the time of his birth and have given him the middle name "Galahad."

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11 July 1995

Harry and Percy sat on the floor, their chess pieces arrayed in front of them.

Harry, who was playing white, reached forward to touch one of his bishops.

"No!" General Lee said forcefully. "No, no, no! Would you please *look* at the position of the black pieces."

Harry eyed the black pieces carefully. He was walking right into a trap that way. "Oh."

He looked up at Percy, who was staring at his own pieces, a befuddled expression on his face. "I don't see it." Percy said with simple honesty.

"You don't see it?" General Lee asked.

Harry interrupted him. "Dormio!"

With that, General Lee collapsed.

"You all right, Perce?" Harry asked.

"Huh?" Percy looked up at Harry. "Yeah. I'm fine. My mind's just . . ."

"On work, I know." Harry grinned.

"It's just that they've asked seven people to head the Department, and they all turned it down."

"Well, some people are a little squeamish about taking a job where the last person to hold it was . . ."

"Murdered horribly?"

"Something like that, yeah."

They sat silent for a few minutes, then Harry said, "Hey. Why don't you put in for the job?"

"Ri-i-i-ght. I can see it now. Barely nineteen, only one year out of Hogwarts, and Head of the Department for International Magical Co-Operation."

"Why not?" Harry shrugged. "Who knows that department better than you do?"

Percy pouted. "No-one, probably."

"And who filled in for Mr. Crouch when he . . . disappeared?"

Percy's aspect brightened. "I did."

"And did anyone believe that you *weren't* getting your orders from Mr. Crouch?"

"No. They didn't." Percy broke out in a grin. "Would you mind if we didn't get back to the chess game tonight, Harry? I've got to work on my resume."

12 July 1995

Dear Mum,

I know this is a strange thing to be asking, but doesn't Ron usually ask you to bake a birthday cake for Harry Potter around this time of the summer?

Things are as to be expected here. As Dad has probably told you, they haven't found a new Department Head yet, but they'll hopefully find someone soon.

Percy


Percy rolled up the letter and attached it to Hermes's leg, sending his owl off to Molly. As much as he wanted to tell his mother that he was going to put in for the position himself, he knew he'd never be able to look her in the eye again if she knew he was going to apply and he didn't get it. This way, he thought as Hermes dwindled to a tiny dot in the distance, when I don't get the job, only Harry and I will know what a fool I've made of myself.

Turning back to his desk, he pulled out another sheet of parchment and his very best quill and began writing in the formal calligraphy he'd worked years to perfect.

To the Very Honorable Cornelius Fudge

Dear Minister Fudge:

I know it's presumptuous of me,


He crumpled up the piece of parchment and used an incendio charm to incinerate it.

Git! He yelled at himself. Don't remind them that you're being presumptuous. Pretend like you're just asking for your due in the position.

He took out another sheet.

To the Very Honorable Cornelius Fudge

Dear Minister Fudge:


He paused to chew on the end of his quill, a sure sign of exactly how nervous he was.

As I'm sure you may remember,

He pulled out a blade and scraped the last two words off thoroughly.

As I'm sure you will remember, I have been a loyal Ministry employee for better than one year now. During the,

He paused again.

absence of Bartemius Crouch from his position as Head of the Department for International Magical Co-Operation, it fell to me to handle the workings of the Department as well as making statements to the media on Mr. Crouch's behalf.

This, I believe, has proven that I am more than capable of supervising the operations of the Department, and I ask that you consider the attached resume for the position.

Respectfully yours,

Percival G. Weasley


He signed with a flourish, then, before he could lose his nerve, paired it with his resume, sealed it, and sent it up to Fudge's office.

There. It's done. Probably the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life. But then he remembered the simple way that Harry put the idea forth, as if Fudge would be a fool *not* to give him the job. I need to see Harry. I wonder if he's available for lunch? He looked over at Hermes's roost, but then he remembered that he'd sent Hermes to Molly.

Without another thought, Percy Apparated back to his apartment.

Harry heard the "pop" of someone Apparating into the room and looked up to see Percy. "Hi." Harry greeted him with a smile.

"You available for lunch?" Percy asked.

Harry looked around pointedly at the textbooks scattered around him and said, "Of course."

Percy and Harry walked out through the Diagon Alley exit and proceeded down the street. Percy led Harry past most of the popular restaurants on the street, directing him to a small bistro that he liked to visit on his own sometimes.

The hostess greeted him with a smile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley!" She looked from Percy to Harry, lighting on the younger man's scar, and then to Percy again, her smile turning slightly inquisitive.

"Hello, Agatha. This is a friend whose name just happens to be Harry." He said pointedly.

Agatha nodded. "It's very nice to meet you. Harry."

Agatha then directed Harry and Percy to a table, giving them menus before she left.

Percy smiled at Harry. "Yes, she knows about the whole Boy Who Lived thing, but a lot of. . . more famous wizards and witches eat here, and they pride themselves on their discretion. I wanted a chance to talk to you without being mobbed by fans." He winked at Harry.

The waiter came by and they placed their orders. After the waiter left, Harry asked, "Why didn't you just send Hermes? I don't need a personal invitation to lunch."

To his surprise, Percy blushed. "I sent Hermes to Mum. I had a question to ask her."

"A question? About what?"

Percy wasn't ready to field that question. Instead he leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial tone, "Well, I did it."

"Did what?" Harry began, but then his eyes widened. "You did it? Put in for the job?"

Percy nodded and his blush deepened. "I still can't believe I did it. But I figured the worst that can happen is that Mr. Fudge'll post a copy of it on the bulletin board at work and everyone'll have a good laugh. It's not like I can get fired for it, anyway."

Harry leaned forward just like Percy had done and reached one hand forward to rest on Percy's hand. That simple physical contact calmed and centered Percy in exactly the way he needed.

"You'll get the job. Or you won't." Harry said.

"Thanks." Percy responded with wry humor.

Their food came, then, and Percy pulled the topic of conversation onto Harry's schoolwork and his expectations for his O.W.L.s at the end of the year. While questioning Harry and listening to his responses, part of Percy's brain considered Harry's upcoming birthday. I *know* it's soon, so what on earth would the Boy Who Lived need for a present? According to Ron, he's practically made of money.

As Percy lifted his fork to his mouth, his eyes lit on the ring he always wore on his right hand and he had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from grinning. Yes, of course. Some things can't be bought with money, only with connections.