Chapter 3

Percy the pig

So now Percy had exactly two weeks and one day to get his shit in order. After the judge passed sentence, he Apparated home by himself, sat down with a half-gallon of tiramisu ice cream, and ate it while crying hysterically.

The next day, he woke up at about two in the afternoon and realized what he had to do: ask his family for help. The fact that he had completely cut them off for over a year meant absolutely nothing to him. He took a quick shower, got dressed in some outrageous celadon and midnight-blue robes that Martha Stewart had designed for him, then Apparated to the Burrow.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, along with Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George, were just finishing off an all-tofu suckling pig smothered in sweet and sour sauce. Ron was about to open a fresh case of Watney's Red Barrel when, out of nowhere, there was Percy with a big fake smile on his face.

"Well," Arthur Weasley sneered, "look what the cat drug in."

"Dragged," Hermione corrected gently.

Sensing a possible ally, Percy turned to Hermione. "I need help! Please, everyone, you must have an idea!" He looked at them with one of the most pathetic, unconvincing looks they had ever seen.

Hermione nodded understandingly, then lifted up her wand while smiling gently at him. Percy smiled back hopefully, although he wasn't sure if he liked her wand pointed at him.

Hermione did a complicated wrist movement, then flicked the wand at him and said, "Rufus polanicus porcinata."

Before Percy had time to react, he had turned into a miniature Poland Red pig--not more than 200 pounds, small enough for a pet door, really a very handy guard animal. Mrs. Weasley jumped up, screamed, and dropped a huge tofu cutlet on the dusty floor. "That spell is irreversible!"

Hermione looked at her with the infinite patience of someone dealing with a ridiculous mother. "Well, it's either that or Azbakan."

"Ass-bakan," Ron joked feebly. "Uranus."

Everyone stared at him. Then they remembered Percy, who was whining pitifully in the corner, and now they all felt sorry for him.

"Or we could . . ." Hermione started, looking at Harry thoughtfully.

Fortunately, Harry was telepathic. "Raise the money to pay back St. Mungo's."

Ron looked baffled. "We can't raise 1.2 million pounds in fifteen days! The judge is just tormenting this little bitch--I mean, my brother."

Hermione put a hand on her hip and looked at him like he was stupid. Really, she thought, if I ever end up with one of these Weasleys, just shoot me. "Ron. It's so obvious. We'll have a talent contest. With Percy incognito as the MC. Percy!" she snapped, and he flinched. "Can you still talk?"

"Of course I can," he whimpered.

Hermione's eyes widened maniacally. "And the show will be a huge success because NOBODY HAS DONE IT BEFORE!"

Harry's eyes were equally manic. "We'll sell tickets to those dolts coming over for the Harry Potter tours. We'll charge those bastards double!

"Five hundred pounds a ticket!"

"No--six hundred! And we'll take whatever's left over and go to Aruba."

Now Mrs. Weasley was crying with joy. "I always wanted to go to Aruba."

The radio suddenly came on magically, and it was playing "The Girl from Ipanema." They all formed a festive conga line, with Percy in the lead.

Ende