The clock on his nightstand ticked to one o'clock. Percy slumbered on until the room was filled with a blinding white light. He sat bolt upright, covering his eyes with one hand and groping for his wand with the other.

A spirit hovered in the room, emanating that light. It wore a simple white dress and a white cap, and its clothing billowed as if under water.

"Are you the spirit that was going to come?" he asked.

"I am. I am the ghost of christmases past. I can remember nearly two thousand years now." The spirit blinked at him. It had a round, ageless face that could've been five or five thousand.

"Ok." Percy sat up all the way, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. "So . . . what's the point of this visit? What are we going to do? Let's get on with it."

The spirit held out its hand. "Take my hand. I will guide you."

"Guide me where?"

"To the past." The spirit extended its hand. Percy, realizing he had no choice, put on his slippers and stood up to grab its hand. As soon as he touched the hand a great force yanked him forward, rather like apparition but without the squeezing feeling. Time and space bent around him in a vortex, and when the lights came back on he was standing in the living room in the Burrow, that achingly familiar room, awash in color and light.

Before he could say or do anything, Molly Weasley came through the doorway with a plate of Christmas cookies. "Mum?"

The spirit shook its head. "She can't see or hear you. None of them can."

Percy nodded. "It's like being in a pensieve, then." He looked around, realizing how young they all were. His parents were less wrinkled, less gray. The children were all quite young, certainly pre-Hogwarts age. Not even Bill looked like he was old enough for Hogwarts.

"Now, children, let's get ready and—George, put Ron down! He doesn't like when you pick him up!" Molly set the platter of cookies down and moved to take Ron. "Now, as soon as we're all ready—Bill, Charlie, not around the baby!" Holding Ron in one hand, she used the other to separate Bill and Charlie, who were play-wrestling on the ground close to where Ginny lay on a blanket. She leaned down and picked up Ginny in her free hand. "Arthur, where are you?"

"I'm washing the icing off these two before they go touching everything!" Arthur was in the kitchen, scrubbing green cookie icing off Percy and Fred's hands. "There, go into the living room." He followed them in and took Ron from Molly. "Now, boys, are we ready to open presents? It's extra special this year because Ginny gets her first ever Weasley sweater."

"1981." Percy said.

"You remember this year?" The spirit asked.

"Yes. Quite well, actually, even though I was only five. It was the first Christmas after the war ended, and we were all so happy. It was such a good Christmas. I remember now—I got the children's ministry of magic playset! It came with a minister of magic figurine. And Fred and George got toy broomsticks, but then George decided it was the perfect weapon to beat Fred over the head with and Mum took the broomsticks away for a month."

"Come, Percy." The spirit said. "We have many more christmases to see." It waved its hand, and the scene changed. The family warped and changed as several christmases flicked by, and Percy watched himself change from a small child to a Hogwarts-age student.

When the scene stopped changing, Percy was sitting on the couch with a large book perched on his knees and a quill and parchment in hand. Bill and Charlie were sitting on the other couch and Ron and Ginny were comparing chocolate frog card collections. "Mum!" younger Percy piped up. "Could we turn down the Celestina Warbeck a bit? I am trying to work on my essay."

"Me too!" Charlie said. "I definitely am working on an essay too and I want the radio turned down for that and no other reason."

"You're seriously working on homework, Percy?" Bill asked. "You're in second year. No one assigns a substantial amount of homework over Christmas until at least fourth year. Besides, it's Christmas! Come play some wizard chess with me. I've been playing Ron and he actually beat me a couple of times!"

"I have an essay to write." Percy said haughtily.

"It's Christmas Eve! You can finish that essay on the twenty-sixth." Bill got up and looked over Percy's shoulder. "How much do you have written?"

"Four pages, and I'm about halfway through my outline."

"Perce, no one requires more than two pages until third year."

"Well, I am trying to make a good impression on Professor Flitwick. If I do well in all my classes now, I can become prefect and then head boy and then go straight into a ministry job out of school."

"Ok." Bill sighed. "Well, if you'd rather work on school than be fun, be my guest. Charlie, are you up for some chess?"

The older Percy sighed. "I'd forgotten how much time I spent on schoolwork. Was I really this sour on Christmas Eve?"

"All that and more." the spirit said. "You were worse in your O.W.L. year, and even worse than that in your N.E.W.T year."

"Right." Percy muttered. "I barely even talked to anyone that year."

"Let's go." The spirit's touch was light on his arm. "There is still much to see." The scene changed around them. Percy felt a pit in his stomach, wondering if the spirit was going to show him his sixth year, which he spent holed up working even though they were in Romania to see Charlie, or his seventh year, in which he spent all his time in his room frantically studying for exams. But the scene before them was worse than that.

"No." Percy threw up his hands as Hogwarts' great hall came into view. "No. I'm done. I want off this ride. I don't care. I'm done with the ghosts thing."

"You have no choice." The spirit said. "Now that we have begun, we cannot stop until we finish."

"But I don't want to remember this Christmas!" Percy glared at the memories of the past around him, trussed up in dress robes for the Yule Ball. "I hated every part of this. Everyone wanted to know where Mr. Crouch was, and I couldn't tell them because I didn't know. The worst part was having to see people I'd known in school."

Percy looked over at his younger self, who was sitting stiffly at a table in scarlet dress robes. It was the first big clothing purchase he'd made after starting work, and everyone had been too polite to tell him that red was an awful color on him.

Students were filing into the hall now. Ron, clutching the arm of a girl Percy didn't know, scowled. "What are you doing here?"

Younger Percy sat up a little straighter. "I am representing Mr. Crouch tonight."

"Bloody wonderful." Ron groaned. "What's wrong with him?"

Percy shook his head. "That's not a polite question to ask, Ron. Mr. Crouch is ill, but his exact condition is his business."

Ron nodded. "Sure. Come on, Padma. I wonder where Hermione is."

Ron and Padma wandered away, only to be replaced by Fred and George. "Well what are you doing here?" Fred asked. "Big shot Percy, back at his old school?"

"I am representing Mr. Crouch tonight."

"Oh, you are?" George grinned. "Where is that man, anyway?"

"He's ill!" Percy snapped. "I already told Ron and now I'm telling you, he's ill and his health is his business."

"I see." Fred said. "Did you bring a date, then? Oh right. Percy couldn't pay a woman to touch him!" He and George fell over in fits of laughter.

"I didn't see a need to bring one." Percy said. "This is far too important an occasion to be preoccupied with a date. Besides, I don't see that you managed to find women willing to put up with your constant stream of nonsense."

"That's where you'd be wrong, Perce." George said. "Fred's bringing Angelina Johnson and I'm bringing Alicia Spinnet. But they went off to find Katie Bell and get a chasers-only picture in their finery, so it's just us boys for now."

"Figures." Percy grumbled. He sighed and got up to go find a drink, but when he got to the drink table Ludo Bagman cornered him.

"Weasley!"

Percy sighed. "Hello, Mr. Bagman."

"Please, call me Ludo."

"No thank you, Mr. Bagman."

"So you're here on behalf of ol' Barty, huh?" Bagman poured himself a glass of punch. "Where is that bastard, anyway?"

"He's ill." Percy said shortly.

"He's ill, huh? And he trusts you to step in for him? Are you even eighteen yet?"

"Eighteen years and four months." Percy said. "Mr. Crouch trusts me, sir. I've proven myself to him. He wouldn't have asked me to go in his stead if he didn't trust me."

Bagman nodded. "Sure, sure. It's just, it's all a little odd, isn't it? I know Barty, and he would do anything in his power to be here at such an important occasion. And to put a brand new employee in his place—this whole thing just seems strange to me."

Percy nodded. "Maybe, but Mr. Crouch believes in me. You'll have nothing to worry about, Mr. Bagman."

Older Percy sighed angrily as he watched the conversation. Bagman had been right; there were many red flags about a brand-new, eighteen-year-old employee being asked to fill Crouch's shoes. But he'd been too naive to know that, then too proud and stubborn to listen to anyone who'd tried to warn him. And look where that had gotten him. Percy turned bitterly turned away from the scene, wishing he could have the bottle of vodka in his flat to help him forget this whole thing.

The spirit of Christmas past was looking at him. "Come on." it said. "We have one more Christmas we need to see." The spirit touched his hand and the great hall melted away.

Even before the lights came back up, Percy knew where he was. He squinted at himself and Penelope standing at the table in his flat, his Christmas jumper spread on the table between them.

"It was so sweet of your mum to send you a jumper, even though you haven't spoken to her in six months."

Younger Percy sniffed. "I'm sending it back."

"But Percy, it's Christmas!"

"What does that have to do with anything?

"Isn't this the time to put all that aside and make up with your family?" Older Percy sighed sadly as he watched Penelope yell at his past self. He'd forgotten how beautiful she was.

"No!" past Percy snapped. "Penny, you need to understand that they wanted me to turn down the promotion. They were actively hampering my career, and I had no room for that in my life!"

"Percy, they were only concerned about your safety and well-being." Penelope said. "They love you. I'm sure they still love you even now."

"And if you love me, you understand why I have to do this. You do love me, right?"

Older Percy cringed. Even before Penelope had dumped him, she'd been growing more distant. Of course he would have felt the need to ask whether she loved him.

Penelope took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself. "I did, once."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well . . . I mean, you've always been a work fanatic, but ever since you got that promotion you've been on a different level. You're never home before nine."

"Well, I've got to make a good impression. If I make a good impression in this job then I can continue moving up the ladder. The harder I work now, the better future I can provide for us."

"That's just it, though." Penelope said. "There was once a time when I could picture a future with you, where we would be happy regardless of how much money we had. But now . . . I can't picture that anymore. I can only see you ignoring me, ignoring any children we might have, just so you can keep working. I really do."

"I wouldn't ignore my own children!" Percy said.

"You've disowned your family so that you could keep this promotion, even though your old position kept you plenty busy."

"You may remember that my boss in my last position was under the imperius curse!"

"You disowned your family when they wanted the best for you. I think that's a pretty good indication of how you'd treat me and any potential children."

Percy looked at her, wounded. "I would never."

Penelope shrugged. "I could picture it, which is the scary part. But today, sending your Christmas jumper back, was the final straw. You're going to break your mum's heart."

"I don't want the jumper."

"Look, I'm tired of you never being home and I'm tired of you treating other people like shit so you can get ahead. I'm done. I don't see a future and I don't think this is going to work out."

"Penny—"

"The love is gone, Percy. I'm sorry." She picked up her coat and bag and headed out.

Present-day Percy rounded on the spirit. "We're done, right? We're done? What more could you possibly show me to torture me? Are we going to keep at it, and see how I spend the twenty-fifth drinking myself into a stupor? Are we going to watch the twenty-sixth, when I got a letter from Bill calling me a horrible son for not visiting Father in the hospital even though I didn't even know Father had been attacked? Are you just here to cause me pain? Answer me!"

The spirit said nothing, only stared back at him with those big, creepy eyes.

"Answer me!" Percy yelled, but the room was going dark around him. Time and space twisted again, and Percy was back in his old room. He collapsed on his bed, heart pounding, and wiped the tears from his eyes. It had been a full year but that breakup still stung like a fresh wound, and now Percy wept, burying the sounds of his sobs in his pillow. When he finally ran out of tears to cry, he rolled over and fell into a fitful sleep.