CHAPTER THREE

The Temptation of Percy

"Why are we going this way?" asked Harry a few moments later. Ron was steering him further up the stairs towards the attic. "Your bedroom's not up here!"

"I know," grunted Ron. "But a certain pair of somebodies decided it would be absolutely hysterical to charm my bedroom door so it won't open, and they won't give me the counter-charm to fix it."

"Oh, great!" exclaimed Harry. "So where are we going with this then?"

"Up to the attic, down the outside stairs and through my bedroom window."

Harry sighed. Typical Weasley life, he thought. "Why don't we just leave Granville in the attic?" he suggested.

"Nah, tried putting stuff in there before. The ghoul just throws everything down the stairs again."

There was no reply to that, really, Harry decided, and let Ron lead the way to his bedroom.

They met Percy on the way back down talking to Mr Weasley on the landing, and looking thoroughly disgruntled. Their hearts sank.

"The only time I ever get off and Fudge has to go and wreck it!"

"I know it's tough, Percy, but it's only two days out of a week, and I'm sure Penny won't mind."

"That's not the point, Dad. When I'm given a week off I expect a week off, not to be dragged in because the Head of Department's throwing a sickie! I could throw a sickie any time I wanted, but thankfully I don't need to stoop to his level."

Mr Weasley sighed. "I know, Perce, and that's good, but - "

"It's all right, Dad, I'll go in. Although, Merlin knows what I'm going to tell Penny!" The bedroom door closed behind him.

"What's happened, Dad?" Ron asked.

"Oh, an owl from Fudge. Needs Percy in the office straight away." Mr Weasley stepped cautiously down the stairs.

"That means he'll need Granville, Ron," hissed Harry, nudging him in the ribs.

"It's only two days, Dad said. We'll just tell Perce that he hasn't got back yet."

"Will he buy that?"

"Yeah," shrugged Ron. "But I'm dead if Hermione can't help on Friday!"

Down in the kitchen Harry and Ron found order re-established. Fred and George fidgeted on their chairs under the scrutinous eye of Mrs Weasley.

"Can we get down, Mum?" asked George, plaintively.

"No. You'll stay here until I say you can go."

"Come, come, Molly," said Mr Weasley, stretching his legs out under the table, cradling his mug of tea in his hands. "They're nineteen years old, not nine."

"As soon as they start acting like nineteen year olds, I will treat them as such. Going round planting buckets of water and jinxing doorknobs. I don't know. Can't take my eye off you for a second, can I? What will it be next, I wonder? Exploding soap in the bath? Disembodied voices in the lavatory?"

Ginny, now fully clothed Harry was pleased to see, sniggered into her coffee. She looked really pretty today, he found himself thinking. She didn't often have her hair loose, and now that she did Harry realised that it was darker than he remembered. In fact, she wasn't much like he remembered at all, really.

"When did Hermione say she was coming, Ron?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"Friday," he mumbled.

"Are you all right, dear?" Mrs Weasley tilted his head back and stared into his eyes.

"Yeah, fine thanks."

"That potion's wearing off," she muttered. "How odd, it usually lasts all day."

Harry, sitting next to Fred and George, felt them shaking with laughter. However, they waited until Mrs Weasley had left the room to let themselves go.

"What's up with you two?" said Ron.

"Nothing, nothing at all," replied Fred, hastily composing himself and nudging George.

Harry leaned over towards them. "What have you done?"

George grinned. "That wasn't just elderflower wine he had last night."

"We added a touch of our own to his glass," said Fred.

"WHAT?" Ron had heard. "What did you put in it?"

"A Weasley Special," replied Fred, snorting with laughter.

"I KNEW that wasn't your ordinary elderflower!" yelled Ron.

Ginny and Harry ducked as Ron launched himself at the twins.

"Now, now, boys," said Mr Weasley, hardly batting an eyelid. "If you must do that, do it outside."

Percy and Penny arrived in the doorway just as the twins, closely followed by Ron, made a swift exit through the other.

"Why can't they control themselves?" Percy muttered.

"Oh, lighten up, Perce, it's summer!" said Ginny, flicking a stray crumb of toast at him.

"Hmm - summer. Some of us have to work through summer while some of us can afford to lounge around doing nothing."

"Never mind, Perce, at least you've got Penny to lounge around with."

Penny and Harry both sniggered. Percy, on the other hand, did not see the joke.

"I don't like what you're implying."

"Just chill out."

There was no retort readily on the tip of his tongue, so Percy took a mouthful of bacon, making do with a disapproving scowl.

Harry felt something kick him under the table. He was about to protest, but caught Ginny's eye just in time. She moved her head in the direction of the front yard, where Fred and George were holding Ron's upper torso in the pigsty. Fred waved to them, pretending to file his nails.

"Harry!" came Ron's muffled yells. "Get out here now!"

Percy strained his neck to see out of the window as Harry and Ginny ran across the yard to Ron's aid.

"I wish they'd grow up," he complained.

"Oh, they're having fun, Perce," protested Penny.

"They can have fun without acting like children."

"Come on, cheer up," she said, with a flash of her beautiful smile. "You know that you can't concentrate when you go to work in a bad temper."

He leaned back and sighed. She was good for him. Where would he be without her? In a sorry mess, that's where. For ten minutes or so, he contented himself with the view of her sitting opposite him, buttering a croissant. If he wasn't so attached to his parents, he'd be thoroughly ashamed of his family, showing him up like this in front of Penny.

"I ought to go, dear," he said, kissing her formally on the forehead as he rose.

"OK. Have a nice day, and don't be too late."

"Five o'clock sharp, I promise."

"And don't get stressed!"

"I'll try!"

Several hours later found Percy sitting at his desk in the Ministry, poring over a veritable tower of documents that filled his in-tray.

The room was boiling hot, and none of the windows would open, even with the assistance of a wand. Percy was forced to sit as upright and looking as smart as he could in a shirt with the top button undone, his tie hanging loose around his neck, and a pair of dark green braces, fraying at the edges. And even more annoyingly, his glasses kept sliding off the end of his nose, he was perspiring so much.

"Mr Weasley!"

"What do you want?" replied Percy, irritably, stuffing a file of parchment into a drawer haphazardly.

A tiny witch put her head round his door. The wide smile she wore succeeded only in exasperating him more. "Just a quick word, Mr Weasley, sir."

"Yes, all right, what is it?"

"Mr Postelthwaite sent me, about the conference next weekend at Sunderby Hall."

"Yes? Well? I don't have all day, woman!"

The little witch jumped and took a step back, the smile wiped off her face. She began stammering. "Oh, well, yes. Um - Sunderby Hall, sir. Mr Postelthwaite wanted me to run over the arrangements with you, sir."

"I handed no less than eleven lists in to Mr Postelthwaite three days ago with absolutely everything accounted for. What's the problem?"

"Um - the interpreters, sir."

"The what?" barked Percy.

"The interpreters, sir. Mr Postelthwaite said there's a problem with the interpreters."

"What interpreters?"

"For the conference, sir."

"Yes, I KNOW for the conference, but with which interpreter is there a PROBLEM?"

"The French Ambassador, sir. There was no mention of a French interpreter on the lists Mr Postelthwaite received."

"Oh, for the love of MERLIN!" yelled Percy. "Then find one, woman! Don't stand their wittering on about it. We need ACTION!"

"Begging your pardon, sir - " The witch looked thoroughly petrified now. She was shaking from head to toe and was even dropping a curtsey between every sentence. "There aren't any available."

"WHAT?"

"That is to say, sir, we haven't any qualified interpreters on hand to attend the conference, sir, but there's a young lady from the Department of Foreign Liaison who is prepared to take on the job."

"Well, use her then!"

"But she's not qualified, sir, she just happens to be French, that's all - "

"Well, I can't think of a better qualification than that, CAN YOU?"

"Um - no sir."

"EXCELLENT!"

"Shall I send her in to you, sir, for debriefing?"

Percy spluttered into his coffee. "For what, I beg your pardon?"

"Debriefing, sir. You know, a run through of the itinerary, sir."

"Oh, yes, very well then. Wheel her in."

In desperation he tried the window again, putting all his strength into the upwards force, in vain. He leaned his face against the cool glass, letting his glasses slip off his nose a little.

"Er, Meester Weasley?"

Percy span round like a shot, as though somebody had just called him to attention. He rearranged his glasses hurriedly.

He found himself staring into the wide blue eyes of a stunningly beautiful young woman. With flawless, faintly tanned skin and a slender figure to challenge even the most exquisite fashion models, visible through the skin-tight pink summer dress she was wearing. She smiled, showing off her brilliant white teeth beneath a pair of full, rosy lips. Long blonde ringlets cascaded over her bare shoulders and across the edge of her face in a side parting.

Percy's jaw dropped.