The next morning was a busy one for the Weasley family, not in the sense that they had somewhere to go, or something very important to do, but more of a whole slew of recreational events that they had planned for the day off, eager to do something fun. Everyone was home for Thanksgiving, and there was still a twenty-four hour pre-Mrs.-Weasley-making-dinner-a-day-ahead-of-time madness.

"Game of Quidditch I reckon," said George happily, as Charlie toasted the idea with his cup of orange juice.

"Yeah," said Ron, enthused. "I've gotten to be a spectacular keeper. Just ask Harry." Ron nudged Harry with his elbow.

"Ron, Gred and I here could keep better than you do, and we're beaters," said Fred cheekily, casting glances at Mrs. Weasley, who thankfully was casting her full attention on the breakfast casserole she was nearly finished preparing.

"Where's Percy?" said Ron abruptly, trying to change the subject. He looked inquiringly at Ginny, who shrugged noncommittally.

"Why'd you have to bring the wretched priggish eyesore into the conversation?" asked George spitefully. Mrs. Weasley smacked him in the back of the head.

"You're only angry because he refuses to buy your products," said Bill smartly.

"You don't buy our products either," said Fred.

"Yes, but I'm everything you aren't." Bill took another sliver of bacon, and Charlie heaped an appreciative biscuit onto his plate.

"Lets change the subject, shall we?" said George, looking at his brother Fred from across the table. Suddenly the orange juice turned pink.

Mrs. Weasley was about halfway through her rant when the family heard Percy walk down the stairs. And all at once a hush came over the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley dropped a bowl of strawberries. Fred and George were sitting dumbfounded with their mouths hanging open. Ginny was smiling happily. Ron had ceased eating. Even Bill and Charlie seemed to have nothing to say. In fact, the only person who seemed not to have noticed the mild hurricane of shock tearing up the family was Mr. Weasley, who had taken his wand and was trying to use it (with his wife's wand) to pick up the egg on his plate, as though he'd seen it in an old Chinese film and wanted to explore the benefits of eating with your wand.

Percy Weasley, was the most proper and predictable member of his family. He came downstairs every morning fully dressed in two piece pajamas, no matter what time of year it was. He sat quietly at the table, ate his breakfast in silence, and padded back to his bedroom to change and then leave for work. In the last six years or so he'd never deviated from this pattern, whether his destination be school or work.

So you can imagine what a shock it was to Percy's family when he walked down the stairs to breakfast in nothing but his boxers. He looked both extraordinarily tired, and extraordinarily contented, both of which were uncharacteristic to Percy's general aura. And, to top it all off, Percy had waltzed into this new alternate universe looking like a body-builder, the muscles in his torso now clearly defined. Bill and Charlie both were eyeing him appreciatively, and Fred and George looked as though they'd just seen their joke shop go up in flames.

"Mum?" said Percy suddenly after sitting down. There was a collective jump around the table. "Where's the jam?" He stared inquiringly at her. Mrs. Weasley did not speak, but made a funny squeaky noise, similar to the noise emitted by a mouse when trodden on.

"No jam?" he gazed lovingly at him mother, amused by the shocked and mildly scandalized look on her face. She still made no sound.

After a long moment, Percy sighed. "I'm going to get some jam," he said, not feeling that this was important, but unnerved by the silence around him. He stood up in silence, his pectorals rippling smoothly, and threw a coat on over his boxers. Then, feeling as though this were quite enough, or perhaps not noticing his attire, he strode out of the house barfoot.

"No shoes, no service," George called after him, for lack of anything better to say. There was a long pause after this.

"Who murdered our brother," Fred said wonderingly, "and replaced him with someone far more interesting?"

All at once the table broke out in chatter.

"The imperius curse?" Bill said, quite seriously to his brother Charlie.

"Has to be," said Ron. "There's no other explanation." An egg slipped off of his fork and onto his lap.

"Why would anyone want to bewitch Percy so that he comes downstairs wearing nothing but his underwear?" Charlie, the usual voice of reason, seemed unperturbed by Percy's odd behavior.

"Perhaps he'd been poisoned or something," Ron speculated, trying to mop the egg yolk from his pajama bottoms.

"I don't think any of our joke products could have produced results like this," said George, looking at Fred with concern.

"Maybe we burned up his pajamas by accident during the night." Said Fred.

"STOP!" Ginny yelled suddenly. "Look at mum, she's fainted." There was a great commotion at this, at which point Bill lifted up his mother and took her into the living room, presumably to revive her. The rest of the family sat down slowly, and continued talking about Percy.

"Mum's right sock-knocked I reckon," said George. He seemed a bit bewildered, unable to get used to the idea of Percy being the one Mum fainted because of.

"Why are you all so surprised by this?" asked Harry quietly. He'd gone unnoticed in the commotion, and Ginny grinned at him appreciatively. "Percy isn't the pope, and he's human. It was bound to happen sometime."

This statement caused everyone so much confusion that no one could think of anything to say.

And then Percy walked back through the door, hung his cloak near the door and then sat down with his jam. Breakfast concluded in silence.