The Magic Umbrella

Percy stood before the mirror on the vanity and looked about the room from within the reflection. The tall four poster bed stood magnificently behind him, with its ancient sky blue velvet hangings and emerald green comforter. He wished Hemmingway would stop fussing over her hair in the bathroom so they could get out of the room as quickly as possible.

Anywhere he turned he could see the reflection of the bed beyond his own reflection, standing there looking vague and distant in his brand new navy blue dress robes. He hated the fact that it was constantly there, ever so deep and full and richly coloured. It was too perfect, and that irritated him.

He fidgeted, wondering who was coming by coach to the station to take them to Hogwarts. Percy frowned at his reflection, trying to think of something else to stew and worry about; it was the only thing that could keep him from paying close attention to the bed and his own sanity.

What was taking her so long? he wondered, licking his palm and brushing it through his hair. The mass of bright red hair just stood stubbornly upward in something of a cow lick. He sighed irritably and began rummaging through his sachel, looking for a comb.

As he pulled the brush through his red locks, Percy wondered what colour dress robes Hemmingway would be wearing. Probably crimson or some bright colour that set off her hair.

Vivian Hemmingway sighed, adjusting the sleeves of her ruby dress robes anxiously and staring at herself in the mirror. Her long and wavy black hair was done up in a loose knot towards the back of her head; she looked positively stunning, but she was feeling quite sick.

How had it all come down to this? She had been so excited to come along on this trip with him, so glad to be able to see what a wizarding school looked like as she herself had never gone to magic school.

True, she had her wand and could work a magicographer, both tricks she had learned from relatives here and there while her parents had travelled the world nonstop, never reaching out to her in any manner. But this was not to say that she was unhappy.

To be quite exact, Vivian was very happy. She had no siblings, and was somewhat spoiled, but it never hampered her intentions to be good and wise and sweet. Even though it was really hard sometimes.

Especially now that she was around him. She knew he was not 5 feet away from her, standing in the main part of the room they were sharing after the Yule Ball; she had retreated to the unusually large water closet to get ahold of herself after practically throwing a hissy fit at her own boss.

There was nothing she could do to prevent the situation, neither one of them wanted to sleep on the floor and this was the last room, but there was just that uneasiness in the air. At least the Yule Ball could distract her. Vivian took one last deep breath, stepped over to the door and turned the handle.

The snow had stopped falling when they reached the station once more. The sky was a velvet black spritted with gleaming silver spots of stars, like someone had poked holes in the velvet. Hemmingway was following Percy obediently along the sidewalks through the thick snow to the train station.

He was wishing that for just once the train station was directly at Hogwarts instead of Hogsmeade. It was a foolish decision, said something in the back of Percy's mind, but he was too cold to be worrying about the validity of his own wishes.

Percy noted out of the corner of his eye the hurried manner Hemmingway walked. She was having a difficult time keeping up with him, but they would be incredibly late if they didn't hurry.

When they reached the station the snow had begun to fall once more, picking up speed as the seconds ticked by. Percy glanced down the lane beyond the barrier to look for the carriage, but the visibility was growing worse and worse with both the snow and the darkness.

The personal assistant finally threw up his hands in dispair and irritation, sighing despondently and slumping onto one of the benches. Hemmingway, catching up with him at last, peered anxiously down the road, her breaths coming in long white clouds. She squinted, glanced at Percy, squinted again, then came over to sit down next to him.

White feathery bursts of snow were falling on them, neatly and quietly, but very frigid. Percy shivered. This was not good. Definitely not good at all. He turned to ask Hemmingway what time it was, when he saw that she had brought her umbrella along and was sitting beneath it, not a speck of snow on her.

He watched her for a few minutes in a sort of awe. Percy hadn't really looked her over when they had left the Three Broomsticks, time was of the essence and he had just paid attention to the fact that she either walked slow or had very short legs.

"Oh, I am so rude, aren't I?" she cried, turning to look at him with an almost scared look on her face.

"Rude?" Percy was about to ask, when she suddenly slid across the bench to sit right next to him, shoulder to shoulder. He almost jumped in surprise at her movement, and looking up at the thousands of tiny white lights in the interior of the umbrella, he became very dizzy. The world suddenly magnified itself and he turned to see something very strange in great, great detail.

Hemmingway's long, dark, thick curls had been pulled up to the back of her head, but some of them had escaped the knot and graced her translucent, off-cream cheeks. Percy suddenly had the notion that if he had had a pair of scissors at that moment, he would reach over and snip one of those delicate curls away from her face to keep in a dresser somewhere.

"I hope you aren't cold, the umbrella should block most of the snow," she said softly, her voice sounding loud to his ears in the silent night. Her eyes were wide and sparkling, he had never really seen her so up close.

"Oh, thanks," said Percy. Something very bizzare was happening, he wanted desperately to tell her, but for some reason his mouth wouldn't open. Thankfully, however, the sounds of an approaching carriage jolted them both out of whatever it was that was affecting them and they stood quickly, brushing the snow off themselves.

He sighed with relief, glad to at least hear the blasted thing, when--

"Oh, no..." Coming up the lane to meet them, in a large brown Hogwarts carriage, with his round, smiling and warm face stuck out the window, was none other than--

"Percy Weasley!" Ludovic Bagman, he thought sourly.

"Mr. Bagman! What a pleasant surprise to see you driving up the road!" cried the personal assistant sarcastically as the carriage rolled up to stop in front of them. Fortunately, Bagman missed his tone of voice.

Ludo threw open the door, beaming at both of them. Sighing, Percy gave his hand to Hemmingway, who had been closing the black umbrella hastily, and clambered in after her.

"So sorry I'm late," apologized the Head of Magical Games congenially and rubbing his hands together, "The judges had a meeting and I couldn't be spared."

"Oh, that's...alright, I suppose," said Percy after some time. He glanced over at Hemmingway, who was intent on staring insipidly out the window, and was glad they weren't sitting under the umbrella anymore.

"Ah, it's really a relief to everyone's conscience to have you here, Weasley," said Bagman suddenly. His voice sounded oddly strained. Percy wanted to stick his head out the window to catch his breath, it was hot in the carriage and the last thing he needed was to be sick.

"Oh?" he managed to gasp.

"Yes, you certainly..." Bagman searched for the right word, "fill Barty's place well. You're really going in his footsteps, aren't you? Yes, yes, quite wonderful." Percy wished he would shut up. Ludovic Bagman was really getting on his nerves, but he had to retain his facade of Percyness and continue the conversation.

"I thank you, Mister Bagman," he replied casually. Ludovic cleared his throat and motioned for him to lean in closer, to say something important. He was giving Hemmingway a significant look, and much to Percy's vague amusement it was lost on account of her not paying any attention to them.

"They say," Bagman whispered conspiratorily, "that there's a lot of tricky business going on with that family, and that Barty's son might be--" here he paused for emphasis--"...alive!"

Percy's face remained absolutely deadpan. This was not news to him, he had heard it from several questionable sources, and had heard it denied countless times. In fact, he decided to be so bold as to roll his eyes dramatically when Bagman turned to Hemmingway to apologize for the drive being so rough (she had stared at him, scandalized, until he turned back to talk to Percy).

"Oh," said Percy after some time. Bagman didn't seem at all fazed over the fact that his reaction to this epiphany of news wasn't the greatest, he seemed to like to hear himself talk. Oh, but talk he did.

Ludovic Bagman had to yammer on endlessly about all the rumours he had been hearing since he had returned from the Goblet of Fire ceremony and how he had just LOVED being the announcer for all the Triwizard Tournaments and blah, blah, blah, thought Percy.

It wasn't until he realized the carriage had stopped when Percy finally started paying attention to his surroundings.

"Ah, we're here at last!" exclaimed Bagman jovially, opening the door for Hemmingway, who practically jumped away from him and out of the carriage.

Percy stared up at the stone castle and its surrounds resolutely. This was his big opportunity to show everyone, especially his brothers, that he was a meaningful and important assistant to Mr. Crouch, missing in action or not. Things were going to go right, he thought as he hurried in with his arm across Hemmingway's shoulders against the snow, if heads had to roll for things to be that way.

The Great Hall was smaller than he remembered, but it was still as awe-inspiring as ever, with its small Christmas trees and sparkling fairly lights all about. Hemmingway blinked in the sparkling white lights, removing her muffler and hanging it over one of the chairs at the judges' table.

Percy unwrapped his cream colour knitted scarf, still looking all about, and placed it next to Hemmingway's. As he stood directly beneath the centre of the enchanted ceiling, Percy could almost hear himself getting older by the second, it was so quiet. He stood there, contemplating the kinds of things the twins and Ron would say when they saw him.

Presently, however, his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the doors opening as two adults entered the room.

"Professor Karkaroff, you know 'ow much ah deeslayke zees two 'Ogwarts champeeons beezniss. Eet ees jahst so..." the towering woman wearing black satin paused, and Percy caught a glimpse of a tall and very thin older man, obviously irrtated at having such an imperious woman but with a dignifiedly bored expression on his bearded features.

His expression immediately improved, however, when he caught sight of Percy.

"Ah!" he cried, smiling as only a weasel could, "You must be Meester Crouch's asseestant!" Obviously Bulgarian, thought Percy as he smiled affected and nodded. "I am Igor Karkaroff, and zis is Madame Maxime. Ve are ze ozer judges," he said clearly.

"Oh, pleased to meet you both," said the personal assistant, "I'm Percy Weasley." Madame Maxime gave him an imperious nod and was about to continue her ranting about something when Karkaroff gave Percy another nasty grin.

"So...Meester Crouch, eh?" he laughed coldly, and Percy suddenly wished that Hemmingway was standing by his side. "Yes, I haff heard a lot about him lately. Haff you verked vith him much?" Percy opened his mouth to answer, and to his relief the doors opened and the room was filled with the sounds of laughter and amazement as the students poured in.

Headmaster Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman, conversing seriously, approached the table from another entrance and stood smiling at the masses that were slowly and surely filling the circular tables that had been set up.

But where was Hemmingway? Percy craned his neck over students' heads, but there was no sign of her. Feeling slightly panicky, he pushed his way through hordes of talking students, searching for her desperately.

At last, however, he spotted her trying to make her way past the champions without being noticed, just as Professor McGonagall shut the doors. As she crouched low, trying to avoid peoples' gazes, he frowned slightly and pulled out the chair next to him just as Harry Potter walked by with a girl he didn't recognize.

Hemmingway was five feet away from the judges' table when Percy glanced quickly up to see Harry's surprised expression staring back at him, and to both Hemmingway and Percy's great surprise and annoyance, the boy took the gesture as a cue and planted himself firmly in Hemmingway's chair.

Percy could not for one second imagine why on earth Harry seemed intent on the fact that it was an invitation for him, but seeing the expectant look on the boy's face as if he had something to say, decided to see if he could bore in himto taking a different seat.

"I've been promoted," he said smugly. It worked like a charm, Harry was already scanning the crowd for another seat. If Percy had to suffer through dinner without Hemmingway, Harry would suffer through dinner with him.

He decided to let his irritating wrath loose full force, blabbering on to the table plus occupants without even really thinking about whatever it was he was bragging about, it didn't matter as long as it sounded like it made him look good.

Finally, however, Dumbledore began the food consumption ritual by ordering pokr chops, Harry chose goulash and Percy had a filet minion, quite a rare dish for him. Soon the small polite conversations began, something he didn't care to partake in as he was too busy keeping an eye out for Hemmingway.

Just as the Headmaster was making a light remark to Karkaroff about being up late and finding a room he had never seen before or something, Percy spotted her. Hemmingway was perched precariously next to a tall black girl and her blonde friend, look all around the room.

Percy was about to try and catch her eye to signal her over whe the two most familiar people he had ever seen practically bounced into view and sat down next to the girls she was sitting with.

Hemmingway was sitting with Fred and George.

He frowned most deeply, vowing to take his revenge somehow. If Hemmingway met his brothers and mentioned that she was with him, they'd tease him to no end and then Mum would start asking about Penny again...

He practically choked just thinking about the possibly dangerous events that could ultimately doom him. The personal assistant gulped down the last bit of food just as the lights began to dim. Everyone was standing up to get a better view of what was going on up front and Percy took the opportunity to sneak past everyone in the hopes of reaching Hemmingway before something disastrous occured.

"Sir!" she cried when he slid into the chair next to her. He hushed her and pointed up to the large crowd.

"Why are you sitting here?!" he whispered madly.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I MEAN?! Those two redheaded chaps are my brothers, they're twins!" She nodded seriously and her eyes grew wide.

"So I noticed..."

"Listen, you've got to get away from this table." The music was growing louder as more and more people joined in the dance. Hemmingway looked worried.

"Why? Am I in grave danger because I'm sitting with your--" and it suddenly dawned on her. "Ooooohhhh..." He nodded quickly and took her hand. "Wait, where are we going?"

"Back to the judges' table, I don't want them to see you and start asking questions," he replied irritably. They strode quickly across the floor, dodging several couples and a few teachers here and there, but no one stopped them to make inquiries.

"Oh, this is where you sat. It's too bad that boy had to sit here with you. By the by, who was he?" Percy grabbed his muffler off the chair next to him and flung it over the back of the one he was sitting in.

"Who?" She leaned across the narrow table on her elbows casually.

"That boy," she insisted.

"Harry?"

"I guess that's his name. The one with the glasses and the strange hair?"

"He doesn't have strange hair! It's just that he never does anything with it. And that's Harry Potter you're talking about."

"Ah, I thought I recognized the glasses. He's shorter than what all the newspaper pictures make him out to be. Do you know him?"

"Friend of my brother."

"Brother? You have siblings?" He paused for a moment.

"Of course."

"What are their names?" Percy picked up a piece of tart and sat taking it apart layer by layer while he answered.

"Let's see...there's Bill, Charlie, then me, Fred and George (they're the twins, the ones you were sitting with, rather rummy lot there), Ron, and Ginny. I think Ginny's here tonight, but I haven't seen her yet."

"Goodness! How many is that in all, seven?"

"Oh, yes. Weasleys are known for having huge families. Don't know why, though. Tradition, I suppose. Don't you have any brother or sisters?" She smiled faintly as they watched the band.

"No, I'm an only child. It must be nice having so many people in your house, I would get lonely if I didn't have such a small flat." Percy stared at her.

"Are you nuts?" he cried, "I'd kill to live by myself! It's awful having to share a house with so many people! Always barging in on you, constantly interrupting you at dinner, making all kinds of racket while you're trying to work, terrible experience."

Hemmingway smiled again. "You really think so? I bet you'd be glad to have a big family after you start living by yourself for awhile." They sat without speaking for a few moments as the music died down to a slow, dreamlike melody.

"You're probably right, but it would be nice to live alone for a little while."

"I'd want to have a nice house full of people. Always coming and going, warm and full of noise and bursting to the brim with...I don't know, goodness, I suppose."

"We're so opposite, aren't we?"

"Quite, sir."

It wasn't until late that they finally left Hogwarts amidst the farewells of the judges and a few teachers. Percy and Hemmingway climbed into the carriage that had been waiting for them, Ludovic Bagman-free, and set off on their merry little way back to Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks.

And that was when the trouble began.

"Do you want the left side or the right side?" asked Hemmingway as they entered the room, removing her muffler once more along with some bobby pins from her hair. Percy felt the familiar ice coat his insides that had disappeared during the Yule Ball.

"Er, it doesn't really matter to me," he offered vaguely. Feeling like he was going to be rather nauseated by the thought once more that he had to share *that* bed with *that* girl, Percy retreated to the closet when Hemmingway shut and locked the water closet door.

When at last he had removed the dreadfully heavy woolen dress robes and donned a maroon pair of pyjamas, Percy had gotten over the worst of his sickness. Yawning widely, he removed his glasses and turned back the covers of the four post.

"Ah-ha," he said, turning back, "My teeth." As it was customary for him to wait to brush his teeth, Percy had no problems at all with leaning against the wall. The door opened eventually, though, and Percy saw a blurry image of Hemmingway before he practically jumped out of his skin.

"WHAT THE--?" he cried, and blinked. Plastered quite neatly and thickly (as far as he could tell) across her face was a rather greenish looking concoction of some face cream or something.

"Oh--cucumber gel. Rather nasty stuff, but I'm supposed to put it on before I go to bed." She breezed past him, and he, shaking his head, sighed and closed the door behind him.

Yawning once more and glad that the day was over, Percy rubbed his eyes blearily and pulled back the covers on the bed once more. He turned to Hemmingway, and was very relieved to see the face cream had disappeared. She was reading a book, he could tell, but couldn't see much else.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked kindly, and she set the book down and turned out her light in response.

"Goodnight, Sir." Percy paused a moment, trying to picture in his mind what they probably looked like. Two teenagers edged as far away from one another as possible, almost falling out of the bed. The moonlight peeked through the curtains that had been shut earlier, and the fire was ever so slightly beginning to turn to embers and ashes.

"Goodnight, Hemmingway," he said, and pulled the covers over his head.