To be clear, Percy did not hate animals.
He would never hate something so helpless, so innocent. No, that was it. What he felt wasn't that harsh. He was merely desensitized to the effects they had on people, to make them melt into goo at the sight of their large eyes and squeaky noises. He wasn't enamored by them or more specifically, by felines. Owls were fine; he greatly loved Hermes. He had been a wonderful compassion, especially during the estrangement from his family. For a while, he was Percy's only friend.
Cats on the other hand...
He wasn't fond of them. They were loud and temperamental and did whatever they pleased whenever they pleased without any disregard for anyone's feelings. He vividly remembered Hermione's cat-Crookshanks. What a little terror that thing had been. He agreed with Ron on that matter.
He had no plans to ever adopt one himself. Owls were perfectly alright and if his girls wanted one as their own pet, he would be more than happy to purchase it for them.
He should have known they would have wanted one of those mangy things.
/
Percy was in the middle of enjoying his lunch, a nice homemade sandwich and pumpkin juice. It was mid-air, with him about to take another bite when Molly and Lucy suddenly appeared in front of him, their smiles were much too sweet. It made his radar senses go straight up; either they'd something-which he would assume had been Molly's doing, who forced her sister to get dragged in it as well-or they wanted something.
"Hi Daddy!" Molly exclaimed. She came around the side of the table, plopping down in the chair next to his. Her smile was alarmingly wide, looking like it bordered on painful. He inwardly cringed, just imagining what sort of mischief she'd been up to and what kind of mess that needed to be cleaned up.
Lucy remained where she was, silently observing them.
"Whatever you've done," Percy said with his hand raised, "wait until I've eaten to tell me."
" Dad ," Molly rolled her eyes, "I haven't done anything."
"How many times have I heard that?" He muttered.
"Not that many!"
He gave her a hard look. "I seem to recall you telling me you supposedly didn't do anything and yet come to find out you turned the neighbors blue."
Oh, that had been a disaster to deal with. Molly knew she wasn't to do any magic outside of school. She had to follow the rules regardless of them being a magical household. Percy didn't know what kind of spell she'd been trying to do but whatever it was, she botched it horribly. The poor neighbors; they'd been quite frantic upon seeing their skin changed from a dark brown to a bright blue. It'd been useless to try and get them to calm down by merely talking, they didn't want to talk, they wanted answers. In the end, he had to stun them until someone from the Muggle Reverse Squad could come and fix things, obliviating them before departing.
So excuse him if he didn't exactly take her word for it.
"That was an accident," Molly protested. "I didn't mean to!"
"It doesn't matter if you meant to or not," Percy groaned. "Do you know how hard it was to talk over Mrs. Calahan's screaming?" The woman had been worse than a banshee. He was surprised she hadn't screamed herself hoarse after all that.
Molly evidently decided this conversation was not worth pursuing any longer and abandoned it in favor of what she and Lucy came downstairs to discuss. "Daddy," she tried again, "I was wondering-"
"And there it is," He said with a heavy sigh. "Molly, if this is another attempt at getting an increase on your allowance, the answer is no. If you want more money, you're going to get a job. I've already told you this."
"It's not about money," She looked offended. "We wanted to know if we could have a pet?" She fluttered her eyes like that was supposed to help her any. " Please ?"
Percy's eyes swiveled from her to Lucy. They were both currently attending Hogwarts and during their respective initial school shopping experiences, neither had requested a pet to bring along. He thought of it as strange at the time, remembering his own trip before first year and how he'd yearned for a pet, particularly an owl, of his own. He'd been utterly ecstatic when he got Hermes. "I see. I suppose it would be alright. We'll go to the Owl Emporium a bit later."
"Oh, no, Dad." He glanced at Lucy. She was rubbing the back of her neck. "We don't want an owl ." She was exchanging a look of wariness with her sister.
"We were hoping we could get a cat," Molly said excitedly.
Oh.
Oh no.
"A cat," he repeated. "You girls want a cat?"
They nodded eagerly.
Why did it have to be a cat of all things? He would have been alright with a toad even! But a cat... It didn't escape him how much of what he despised as a youth was coming back to haunt him: He was one for the rules and his oldest daughter was not, he disliked felines and now they wanted one.
"I don't know," He frowned and they deflated, all happiness having been sucked out of them.
"Please, Dad?" Lucy begged.
"Yeah, we'll take care of it!" Molly added.
"Girls, a cat is a big responsibility," Percy lectured. "It isn't as simple as an owl. Plus, cats can be expensive."
"I'll get a job," Molly said instantaneously. "I'll pay for it."
Oh, now she was all content with getting a job.
"Me too," Lucy piped up.
"You're not old enough," Percy told her.
"Well, I'll do more chores then!"
"I'll rake the leaves for the neighbors!"
"We don't have a rake," Percy reminded her.
"We can conjure one."
"Please, Dad," Lucy put her big doe eyes on him. It was thoroughly unfair; Percy was by no means a push over but she was his baby and maybe to an extent she had him wrapped around her finger. Lucky for him she didn't ask for much or beg like this.
"I don't know," Percy sighed, pushing his half eaten sandwich away and adjusting his glasses. "What brought this on anyway? I didn't realize either of you wanted a cat before this."
"Not until we got to watch over Crookie," Molly said.
"He was so cute," Lucy gushed. "You should've seen the way he sleeps all curled up."
Ah, so he had Ron's family to thank for this.
Crookie was half-kneazle just like Crookshanks had been. Its predecessor had lived through the end of the war but not by much and ended up passing away two years later. Hermione had been the one to find him and was utterly distraught, understandably. Her new cat, who was also a male, was a year old whom she named Crookie in memory of Crookshanks. To the amusement of many, Ron swore Crookie was just as devious, claiming the cat was out to get him.
Hermione told him he was being ridiculous.
Percy believed his brother. That thing just had a look to it sometimes.
"And you're sure this is what you want, a cat?" Percy said weakly.
"Yeah!" They said simultaneously.
Of course.
It couldn't be any other way, could it?
/
"How about this one?"
"It's ugly."
"Don't call it ugly!"
"What, it is."
"You're so rude."
"It's hairless , Lucy. Who'd want a hairless cat?"
"I would," She said defensively.
"You know," Percy said from the corner, "It's not too late to go to the Owl Emporium."
Okay, so he was purposefully hinting. Maybe they'd get tired of looking and decide to go find a nice-totally-not-evil pet.
No.
He wasn't that lucky.
His girls giggled in amusement, shaking their heads.
"What do you have against cats?" Molly grinned. "They're cute."
Cute. Right. That was exactly how he'd describe them.
"This one is adorable," Lucy announced to them. She pointed at a pure white kitten who was near the bars of the cage, sniffing the air. "What an angel!"
That angel hissed at Percy as soon as it set its eyes on him.
If he were a petty man, he'd glare at it. If he wasn't a grown man with children.
Or rather, if there weren't any possible witnesses to it he'd do it. The last thing he needed was for word to get back to George or anyone else that he'd glared at an animal.
"Charming," He said dryly.
"We should get him," Molly said and Lucy agreed.
Percy about groaned. Of course it had to be that one.
/
The girls decided he was to be called Wilbur. Percy would have thought they would have gone with something more...whimsical. But no; they were adamant that Wilbur suited the little creature. As of right now, said creature was asleep on his robes. His work robes that he'd laid on the bed! Oh, he was going to get his pesky fur all over it, which seemed to be the case for everything else.
"You've got to be kidding," Percy muttered.
Wilbur woke up, yawning and peeking up at Percy with large eyes. Those same eyes may charm his girls and make them and everyone else melt, but not him. Percy was above that.
"Let me make something clear," Percy said firmly, "there will be rules you have to adhere to."
Wilbur laid his head back down, snuggling back into the material of his robes. Oh, they better not smell because of him!
"Rule number one," He continued, holding up one finger, "there will be no sleeping on our beds. You have your own and you will use it."
He knew some people, like Hermione with Crookie, delighted in sleeping next to their pet but he and his girls would not be those kinds of people. They didn't belong on the bed. It was entirely unsanitary.
"Rule number two: no sitting on the furniture. I will not tolerate any fur left on the couch or elsewhere."
Ron had complained on a prior occasion how Crookie seemed to shed everywhere . No matter how much they brushed him.
"Rule number three: I will come up with a bath schedule that you will follow. Yes, I am aware most cats are not fond of water but you will simply have to get used to it."
He would leave the task of bathing the little scoundrel to the girls. He remembered how Ron was forced to give Crookie a bath once. The feline had left awful scratches on his brother's arms and somehow in the midst of things, Hermione got angry with Ron over upsetting Crookie and the two fought for nearly a week before apologizing to each other.
"Rule number five..."
/
"Well, it's happened," Molly peered in through the tiny crack in the door, watching as her dad stood beside his bed, lecturing little Wilbur, who was, funny enough, asleep. "Dad's gone mad."
"Poor Wilbur," Lucy whispered with a grin. "Should we rescue him?"
"In a minute. I wanna get a good picture of this to send to Uncle George."
/
Percy was not a happy man.
Wilbur was driving him absolutely batty. Oh sure , the little thing managed to charm its way into the hearts of practically everyone in the family. Harry quite liked him and the feeling was mutual. Charlie, of course, bonded with him right away. And Hermione, she thought it would be brilliant to bring Crookie over like some kind of playdate. That was fine and all, but as for him? There had been a war that was waged. And no, it wasn't ridiculous. That cat didn't like him, he was sure of it.
For one, there had been too many instances of him hurling hairballs or undigested food onto anything that belonged to Percy. Imagine his surprise when he went to put his foot inside his shoe, and came to find a warm substance was hidden in there.
Then there was the annoying habit it soon had gotten into: knocking things off shelves and elsewhere. Percy would loudly try to shoo it off but it never worked, always hopping back up and resuming.
And then there was the noise . By Merlin, the bloody noise. Wilbur was his happiest around Molly or Lucy. Whenever they weren't around, he would walk around the house wailing until they either returned or he tied himself out. The girls thought it was adorable.
Not Percy.
His eye would twitch upon hearing that familiar meow while wondering how long it might take to notice if little Wilbur went...missing.
/
Percy was at his desk in his study, signing off on some documents when he felt something tapping on his leg. His gaze flickered downward to find Wilbur there.
"What?" He said. "I'm busy. Go find something else to do. Preferably nothing destructive."
The kitten meowed squeakily.
"I said no. Do you know you're interrupting something very important?"
The kitten apparently did not. It rubbed against his leg, meowing again.
Percy was exasperated. "I'm not going to get any work done, am I? Fine. Come on then." He picked Wilbur up, setting him on his lap. He was rewarded with the kitten rubbing his stomach, as if thanking him.
He absentmindedly began to pet him. Against his better judgement, a smile crept up on his face. "Well, I suppose the girls are right about one thing, you are cute. For a destructive little monster, that is."
/
"It's quiet," Lucy noted when they got back.
"Well either he's sleeping or Dad killed him," Molly remarked.
Lucy rolled her eyes.
They figured Dad was still in his study. That's where he was when they left.
"Do you hear that?" Lucy muttered.
"Yeah, sounds like-"
The door to the study was open a smidge, just like Dad's bedroom door was when they'd caught him lecturing little Wilbur. This time, however, he wasn't quite lecturing as he was-
"You're a cute one, aren't you? Yes, you are," Percy cooed. "Oh my goodness, that yawn -"
Molly smirked. "Told you he'd come around."