Percy's face turned white as the small man in the doorway handed him the heavy package, an all too familiar address written in all too familiar handwriting. Percy placed the package on his desk, putting his hands on his hips and staring at it with narrowed eyes. Ir wasn't too beaten up from the journey. Percy assumed his mother had charmed it somehow to make sure it remained intact when he received it.

To: Percival Weasley

Ministry of Magic

From: Molly Weasley

The Burrow

Percy's hand's shook slightly as he took out his wand and carefully opened the box with a simple charm. The box contained loads of homemade treats and a neatly folded piece of paper resting on top. Was it really the time already? Percy glanced at his calendar and was appalled to see the date was indeed December twenty fifth. He ran a hand through his unruly curls, sighing softly before looking through the contents of his box. Percy placed the treacle tarts and other sweets to the side, but his hand lingered over the folded paper. Glancing to make sure no one was coming into his office, Percy picked up the paper and unfolded it quickly.

Dearest Percy,

I hope this Christmas package reaches you in good health. I've been thinking about you a lot sweetheart, and I sent this to you so you know you can come back home whenever you want to. I miss you Percy, and I wish you would come back home. I know I'm saying that often in this letter, but things here aren't the same without you. I know you're still angry, and I know you probably want nothing to do with us, but please give us another chance. Leaving your family was wrong, but I understand that you were angry. Just come home and I promise I can help sort this all out. Just please come home dear.

with love,

Mum

Percy's lips turned down into a frown and he could feel his eyes stinging. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes furiously and set the paper down. He sniffled softly before turning back to the box, deciding to ignore the letter for now. His mother didn't understand what she was implying. Go back to his family?! That was insane! Percy wanted to, he regretted what he said, but he knew no one wanted him. He'd been so horrible to everyone.

Percy picked up the last object in the box and his blood ran cold. A beautifully knitted Weasley Christmas jumper rested in his hands. It was his favorite color, a pleasant shade of blue, and his first initial was sown delicately with gold string in the center of the sweater. Percy closed his eyes and brought the jumper to his face, inhaling deeply. It smelled of wool, smoke, and his mother's perfume, three scents that seemed to follow Molly Weasley everywhere she went. Tears filled Percy's eyes as memories of past Christmases spent with his family and friends began to surface.

Percy hesitated before removing his suit jacket, tie, shirt, and under shirt and slipping the scratchy sweater onto his lanky frame. Percy released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and his mouth twitched slightly in a smile. The comfortable jumper fit perfectly, just baggy enough that it didn't cling to him but tight enough that it didn't look ridiculous. Percy wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing the soft wool, the tears that had been welling up in his eyes slowly slipping down the end of his nose, either collecting on his glasses or sliding down his cheeks. The feel of the scratchy wool against his skin felt like the closest thing to home he'd felt in months. When he looked up he caught sight of the mirror he kept and he walked over to it reluctantly.

"Bloody hell," Percy breathed, his eyes wide as he looked at his reflection. The jumper made him look almost five years younger, as if he were that ambitious, knowledge seeking Hogwarts student once again. Percy's started breathing harder and he started to tremble as he remembered how diligently Molly Weasley would work on the jumpers for her children each and every year. Each jumper took weeks, sometimes months to knit depending on that year's design, and even after everything Percy had done, his mother had taken the time to make one for him.

Sobs began to flow from Percy's throat like water and he practically ripped the jumper off, shoving it back into the box, grabbing the closest thing to tape he could find and, after returning everything but the letter to the box, he taped it shut. His chest heaved as he stood back, staring at the box with wide eyes and tears streaming down his face. Percy didn't need this, Percy didn't want this, Percy didn't deserve this gift, made with love and care and sent in a neatly packed box.

"I'm sorry, mother dearest," Percy whispered, setting the box by the door and turning back to his work. Percy had moved on, he was grown up, and not even his mother could make him become a child again.