Harry Potter and the Unicorn Guild

Chapter 8 – Prodigal Son

Harry spent the majority of the next two days at Mrs. Figg’s, only returning to the Dursleys’ to sleep, shower, and change. He and Mrs. Figg spent the days puttering around her house, anxiously watching the fire for news of the elections. Occasionally Ron or Hermione came to visit, but they spent the day watching the fire and waiting for news.

Eight times already, silver sparks had erupted in the fireplace, indicating that the voting was inconclusive. Harry didn’t know how much longer he could stand the suspense – what if the voting went on for weeks?

On midmorning of the third day, the fireplace flames turned emerald green and began emitting gold sparks instead of silver. "Mrs. Figg!" Harry yelled, and she rushed into the living room with the lunch tray in her hands.

"Just you watch," she said breathlessly, plopping down to kneel before the fireplace beside Harry. "In a few minutes there’ll be a special Floo announcement."

Harry waited eagerly. After what seemed like hours, the flames of the fire turned emerald green once again, and the spinning head of Professor Dumbledore appeared amid the blaze.

"Citizens of the British Wizarding World," he said in a curiously echoing voice, as though he’d cast a Sonorous Charm on himself, "a new minister has been elected. May I announce your new Minister of Magic – Amelia Susan Bones!"

Harry felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. Madam Bones?! But... but...

"Well," Mrs. Figg said nervously. "Madam Bones. My, my."

Numbly, Harry rose from the lounge floor and plopped down on the couch, shaking his head in disbelief. It wasn’t fair – Mr. Weasley deserved the job. He worked so hard for so little; he should have finally gotten the recognition he was due! Madam Bones is more qualified, though, a tiny voice inside his head murmured. She’s a prominent member of the Wizengamot and the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Office... Mr. Weasley’s only been the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office; how is he qualified for the job?

Shut up, Harry told the little voice fiercely, trying not to think of how Ron would react. He’d been so excited that his dad might be Minister...

Harry didn’t have to wait long to find out Ron’s reaction. He and his whole family had spent the last few days at the Ministry, waiting to hear the minute the election results came through. A short time after the Floo announcement, the Weasleys arrived at Mrs. Figg’s en masse.

"Hello, Harry, Arabella," Mrs. Weasley said, sounding weary. "I suppose you’ve heard?"

"Er, yes..." Harry said, unsure of what to say. Ron, his face gloomy, slumped onto the couch beside him.

"Well, it’s all for the best," Mrs. Weasley said, the brightness in her voice high and false. "It was an honor for Arthur just to be nominated... a tremendous honor... his name will be in the history books now; the first candidate for Minister in centuries who wasn’t on the Wizengamot! Even Amelia Bones can’t say that..." She abruptly stopped talking and tried to smile at her children.

"Well, Dad should be along shortly," she said. "I told him to meet us here once he’d finished his business with the Wizengamot..."

True to her word, Arthur Weasley arrived about a half an hour later. "Hello, all!" he said, the cheerfulness in his tone sincere. "My, it’s good to be away from the Ministry! I – " He stopped and looked round at their disappointed expressions. "Why all the glum faces?" he asked.

Fred and George exchanged puzzled glances. "Dad... you didn’t win..." George said slowly.

"And thank Merlin for that!" Mr. Weasley said emphatically. "I’d be a terrible Minister, absolutely hopeless; working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office doesn’t exactly prepare one for the Ministership, you know."

"You’re glad you weren’t elected?" Fred said disbelievingly.

"Utterly thankful," Mr. Weasley said, leaning down to kiss his wife’s cheek. "It’s a very difficult job, Minister; lots of stress, lots of time in the public eye. I’ll be much happier with my new position, I can tell you that..."

Mrs. Weasley’s head snapped up. "New position?" she said sharply. "What new position?"

Mr. Weasley looked surprised. "Why, didn’t you hear?" he asked. "I’ve been promoted to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement – Amelia’s old job."

Mrs. Weasley shrieked and threw herself on her husband, kissing his cheeks in the most public display of affection Harry had ever seen from her. Pandemonium reigned as every Weasley – and Harry – clamoured to congratulate the new Head of MLE.

"This calls for a celebration!" Mrs. Figg beamed. "Harry, call Hermione on the Floo – we’re having a party for the Weasleys tonight to celebrate Arthur’s promotion!"

---

The mood was no less jovial that night as the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione gathered at Mrs. Figg’s. A summer thunderstorm had come up suddenly that evening, but while heavy rain poured outside, merriment reigned inside the house on Wisteria Walk.

They ate their way through a sumptuous dinner (Mrs. Figg and Mrs. Weasley had been cooking all afternoon), all the while chattering about the election, the Wizengamot (of which Arthur Weasley was now a member), and Mr. Weasley’s new job.

They were just starting on Mrs. Weasley’s homemade strawberry shortcake when the doorbell rang. Mrs. Figg started to rise, but Harry, who was seated closest to the hallway, jumped up. "I’ll get it, Mrs. Figg," he offered.

As he walked to the front door, he could hear Mrs. Figg saying, "He’s such a nice boy! I don’t know how he ever learned manners from those boorish Muggles he grew up with."

Harry grinned; it was quite simple, really. He’d decided very early on in his childhood to act the opposite of the Dursleys in every way, and he’d learned manners from his teachers and classmates – the ones with non-Dursley-like parents – in primary school.

He pulled open the heavy front door. A man was standing in the pouring rain, head bowed, without even an umbrella or an overcoat to shield him from the inclement weather. The man raised his head, and Harry stared into a pair of misery-filled brown eyes.

"Percy!" Harry said, speaking louder than he’d intended in his surprise.

"Percy?!" Mrs. Weasley cried from the other room. Harry heard chairs being knocked over and gasps of surprise from the dining room.

"Hello, Harry," Percy Weasley said, his voice barely audible above the pouring rain.

Harry scarcely recognized him. The proud, pompous young wizard he’d known at Hogwarts and seen at the Ministry was a far cry from the sad, bedraggled figure that stood on Mrs. Figg’s front steps.

"Percy!" Mrs. Weasley flung herself into the doorway, nearly knocking Harry over. "Percy! You – you’re – "

"Hello, Mum," Percy said, trying to smile but failing. "Can I come in?"

"Of course!" Mrs. Weasley lunged forward, grabbed her third eldest son’s hand, and pulled him inside. "Percy, you’re absolutely soaked! Why, you’re not even wearing a cloak! Didn’t you Apparate? Why are you so wet?"

"I did Apparate," Percy said, his voice weary. "I’m wet because I – I was standing outside the door for a while."

"But why – " While Mrs. Weasley was prattling on, Harry reached out and closed the front door, shutting out the noise of the storm outside.

When he turned, he saw that the rest of the Weasley family (with Mrs. Figg lurking in the background) had gathered in the front hall and were now staring at Percy. Mr. Weasley and Bill wore identical expressions of shock; Fred and George wore scowls of anger; Ron’s face was twisted with suspicion; and Ginny, a mixture of defiance and apprehension.

"What are you doing here?" Fred asked bluntly, the hostility in his voice unchecked.

"You’re not welcome," George added angrily.

"Fred!" Mrs. Weasley scolded. "George! He most certainly is – "

Percy held up his hand to stop Mrs. Weasley’s angry torrent. "Mum, please," he said hoarsely, water dripping off his horn-rimmed spectacles onto his muddy robes. "I – I know you don’t want me here," he said, addressing Fred and George. "But I have something to say. Just hear me out and I’ll leave, I promise."

Fred and George eyed Percy malevolently, and then exchanged glances between themselves. "All right," George finally said, crossing his arms across his chest. "We’re listening."

Percy’s shoulders sagged in what looked like relief. "Thank you."

"How did you know we were here?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Professor Dumbledore," Percy said. "I went to the Burrow first, and he was there... he told me where you all were."

"Why is Dumbledore at the Burrow?" Ginny asked her father, wide-eyed.

"Oh..." Mr. Weasley looked uncomfortable. "I’m in a more prominent position now, being head of MLE, and Dumbledore thought it wise to put some extra wards around the house... just as a precaution, you know... it’s standard for most high-ranking Ministry officials."

"Why don’t you all sit down in the lounge?" Mrs. Figg broke in suddenly. "I’ll make some hot tea."

The Weasleys silently filed into the living room while Mrs. Figg bustled into the kitchen. Fred and George went in first, followed by Ron, Ginny, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Percy followed his mother. When he passed by Bill, who was standing in the living room doorway, the elder brother quietly raised his wand and whispered an incantation. A jet of warm air issued from his wand, drying the water from Percy’s clothes and hair. Percy looked startled but gave Bill a grateful, if half-hearted, smile. Bill smiled back and followed him into the living room.

In the lounge, Percy slumped into an ancient wingback chair. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat on the couch with Ginny curled up on the floor at their feet and the twins perched on each end. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were seated on the other sofa, with Mrs. Weasley holding tightly to her husband’s hand. Bill remained standing. He lingered in the doorway and, minutes later, helped Mrs. Figg serve the tea.

Percy accepted a steaming cup but didn’t drink. He stared into its depths for a long time. Finally, he raised his head and began to speak. "I’m not here to apologize," he said, clutching his teacup so tightly it looked like it might shatter, "because it’s too late for that. I’ve acted abominably, and there’s no excuse for my behavior. None. So I’m not going to try to give excuses but I – I just want to explain."

He took a deep breath that ended in a long, shuddering sigh. "I suppose it begins on the day after my promotion. I told Minis – that is, Cornelius Fudge – about the argument I’d had with my family. I expected him to be proud, to congratulate me – but he seemed disappointed. He suggested that I wait a few days, calm down, and try to patch things up. I thought it was a test of my loyalty to the Ministry, but you were right, Father." He turned his anguished eyes to Mr. Weasley. "You were right. He wanted me as a spy for the family and Dumbledore – and Harry. This entire year he’s repeatedly urged me to reconcile. I thought he was merely trying to be nice, but – " Percy’s face hardened. "The day that You-Know-Who broke into the Ministry, I accidentally overheard a conversation between Fudge and Lucius Malfoy."

Mr. Weasley sucked in his breath and leaned forward. "What did you hear, son?" he asked gently, encouragingly.

"Malfoy asked Fudge if he’d had any further luck ‘getting any useful information out of the Weasley boy,’" Percy said bitterly, setting his teacup down on a nearby end table with a loud *clank.* "And Fudge said, ‘No, that doltish boy is still as stubborn as a goblin. If he doesn’t back down soon, I may have to demote him.’" Percy’s fist crashed down on the arm of the chair. "I worked my arse off for him! I came in early, I stayed late, I did ten times the amount of work required for someone in my position, and I did it damn well. And then I found that he was just using me, after all."

"Oh, Percy..." Mrs. Weasley said, her eyes filled with tears.

"And that’s not all," Percy continued savagely. "When I graduated, Penelope and I had a talk. With me starting a job at the Ministry and her N.E.W.T.s coming up, we agreed that a long-distance relationship might be too cumbersome at that time in our lives. So we decided to remain friends. Well, last summer, we started corresponding again. She moved to London in August and began an apprenticeship at St. Mungo’s, and we started dating again. It was – " Here, Percy’s eyes glazed over slightly, " – it was wonderful. I’d been lonely, and it was so nice to have someone to be with, someone who appreciated me for me, someone who admired my abilities and my work. And then," Percy swallowed, and the hard look returned to his eyes, "Fudge found out. He called me into his office and invited me to tea, and he talked to me like – like I was his son."

Mr. Weasley’s hand jerked slightly, and Percy avoided his father’s eyes. "He told me that young love was a wonderful thing and all, but it wouldn’t be wise to tie myself down just yet because it was important to focus on my career. Oh, he said many flattering things, implied that I was the Ministry’s rising star, and so on. After that conversation, I owled Penny and told her I didn’t think we should see each other anymore."

Ginny emitted a soft "Oh!" of sympathy, no doubt empathizing with Penelope – she’d received a similar letter from Dean Thomas earlier in the summer. Percy glanced at her and continued. "She sent me a few owls after that, but I ignored them. I thought I was doing what was best for my career – until I heard that damned conversation between Fudge and Malfoy."

Percy swiped irritably at his eyes, which were bright with angry tears. "After Fudge talked about his ‘doltish’ personal assistant, he said, ‘At least I was able to talk him out of his relationship with that Clearwater girl – the idiot boy was falling in love with a Mudblood. Thank Merlin I nipped that in the bud. I’m going to introduce him to my niece at the next Ministry function. She’s a nice pureblood girl.’" Percy’s laugh had a slightly hysterical tinge to it. "I’ve met his niece – she may be a nice pureblood girl, but she has the brains of a flobberworm and the looks of a garden gnome!"

Ron made a queer sound, and Harry realized that he was choking back laughter. Hermione gave him a severe look and returned her full attention to Percy, to whom she was listening sympathetically.

"I couldn’t believe it," Percy continued brokenly. "I’d given up my family and my girlfriend for him, and the whole time he was just trying to use me. The last straw came the next morning, when I found out about You-Know-Who’s return. Dumbledore and Harry had been right all along – it flew in the face of everything I’d been told, over and over, during the past months. I saw that Fudge had lied to me yet again."

"That’s all well and good, Percy," Fred interrupted, glaring at his brother, "but how do we know that you’re not just here for your own gain? Dad’s head of MLE now; I bet you’re just scared of losing your job, and now you’re sucking up to him so you can keep your precious Junior Assistantship!"

"Frederick Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley cried, outraged.

Percy’s eyes fixed on his brother’s face. "No, Mum, he has a point." He took a cream-colored envelope out of the pocket of his robes and threw it at Fred’s feet. It landed on the orange carpet with a soft *thwap.* "There," Percy said, his tone calm and detached. "That’s my resignation. I’m sending it with Hermes tomorrow."

Fred was still locked in a staring match with Percy, so George reached down and took the letter. He removed the parchment from its envelope and scanned the contents. Fred broke eye contact with Percy long enough to examine the letter for himself.

"Percy..." Mrs. Weasley said helplessly. Harry realized that she was seeing her dream of having the majority of her children employed at the Ministry dissolve before her eyes (which, Harry thought, seemed rather unfair to Ron and Ginny, seeing they had yet to choose careers).

"Three days ago," Percy said in quiet, measured tones, " after the vote of no confidence, Fudge came to me. He wanted me to stay on at the Ministry and keep him informed as to what was happening in the Minister’s office, so if things went wrong he could step back in. He wanted me to spy for him – again. I told him I wouldn’t do it – that I was loyal to the Ministry and England, not him. He said – " Percy swallowed. "He said that the Ministry was going to crumble now that You-Know-Who was back, and I’d best get on the winning side. He threatened me – said that if I didn’t stay on, I’d regret it, that I’d be one of the first You-Know-Who went for..."

It was too much for Percy. He broke down into racking, shuddering sobs. "I trusted him!" he wailed. "He was my superior, my mentor, just like Mr. Crouch... I trusted him... I trusted both of them... and I was betrayed..."

The Weasleys sat as if turned to stone, watching the broken young man before them in mute pity. Suddenly, Ginny rose gracefully from her cross-legged position on the floor and went across the room to her brother. "It’s all right, Percy," she said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Older and wiser wizards than you have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort."

Harry couldn’t believe it – he’d never heard any of the Weasleys call Voldemort by name before. Yet here was Ginny saying it without a stutter or a cringe. What had happened to her to bring about this change? He resolved to talk to her about it later.

Percy looked up at his little sister, amazed, yet there was something in his eyes that had been absent just seconds before – hope. Brother and sister studied each other, and then they embraced.

Mrs. Weasley burst into tears.

"Wait," Fred said loudly. He seemed unable to let go of his anger. "You didn’t even visit Dad in the hospital! He nearly died, he was in St. Mungo’s for weeks, but you didn’t visit him once!"

Percy shook his head. "I did," he said quietly. "I visited him at night."

The angry look faded from Fred’s face and was replaced with an expression of surprise. "What?"

"I went at night," Percy repeated. His gaze flickered to his father, who looked dumbstruck. "I didn’t think he – or any of you – would want to see me, so I went at night when he – when everyone – was asleep."

Bill spoke up. "I thought I saw you a few times in the morning... I assumed it was my imagination."

"But..." Now George jumped in. "You sent back your Christmas jumper. Without a note."

Percy looked puzzled. "No, I didn’t."

"Yes, you did!" George insisted. "You made Mum cry – on Christmas – because you sent it back unopened – "

"I never got it," Percy said.

This stopped George short. "Huh?"

"I never got a Christmas jumper," Percy said again, hurt appearing in his eyes. "I assumed that Mum hadn’t sent one to me because of how I acted when she came up to London to see me."

"But I sent it!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "I sent it Christmas Eve, with Errol... and a Ministry owl came back with it on Christmas Day. There was no note... no message... just the package."

‘I never got it, Mum," Percy insisted. "I waited all day, and when it didn’t come, I thought it meant that..." his voice dwindled to nearly nothing, "I wasn’t a member of the family any more."

"Oh, Percy, no!" Mrs. Weasley wept. "You will always be a member of our family, nothing change that... nothing...

"Your mother’s right," Mr. Weasley said firmly. "Though I do wonder why anyone would want to steal your Christmas presents."

"I..." Percy’s eyes widened. "Could Fudge have... but why, if he wanted me to reconcile...?"

A suspicion took root in Harry’s head. He’d also had mail intercepted within the last year. "Umbridge," he said aloud. Percy and the others looked at him. Harry spoke directly to Percy. "She intercepted my mail last year. Could she have taken yours?"

"I don’t know..." Percy said slowly. "I suppose it’s possible... but why...?"

"Maybe she had an ulterior motive," Hermione said darkly. "Maybe she didn’t want Dumbledore or Harry to have any more friends at the Ministry – she probably thought she was doing Fudge a favor."

Percy shook his head miserably. "I had thought she was a friend... I had thought she truly cared about the students..." His head snapped up suddenly and he stared directly at his youngest brother. "Ron, you never had detention with her, did you?" he asked sharply, sounding almost panicked.

"No," Ron said, "but Harry did."

Percy looked at Harry, who held up his right hand with his knuckles facing out. The thin, white scars spelling "I will not tell lies" shone dimly in the light of the fire. Percy’s face crumpled. "I’m sorry, Harry," he said. "I only just heard about that quill of hers a few weeks ago... I was appalled... I’m sorry."

Harry lowered his hand. He realized that Percy was apologizing for more than the quill – he was apologizing for his lack of trust towards Harry. "It’s okay, Percy," he said, his voice low. As Ginny had said, Percy had been duped by Lord Voldemort, just like countless others – including Fudge, though Harry didn’t think he’d be forgiving the former Minister anytime soon. Fudge, after all, had yet to show any genuine remorse or regret for his actions. At least Percy was man enough to admit when he was wrong and beg his family’s pardon.

Percy looked around the room and heaved a large sight. "That’s all," he said. "That’s what I came here to say. I – I’ll go now."

Before he could move, Ron quickly stood up. "Percy," he said gruffly, "you’ve been a huge git." He quickly added before his parents could protest, "But I’ve been a git to Harry and Hermione, and they’ve always forgiven me." He flashed a grin at his friends, who grinned in return. "I guess – I mean, I suppose – well, if they can forgive their friend, I can forgive my brother." And he held out his hand.

Percy stood up, slowly, as if moving too quickly would cause Ron to retract his hand and sit back down. He faced Ron – who, due to growth spurts during the past year, was now at eye-level with Percy – and extended his own hand to clasp Ron’s. Unexpectedly, Ron pulled his brother into a hug.

This seemed to be a silent signal to the rest of the Weasleys, who all stood and rushed to join in the hug, even Fred and George. Harry and Hermione hung back, sensing this to be a private moment for the Weasley family, but the two exchanged happy smiles.

Mrs. Weasley said through joyful tears, "Oh, come on – you’re members of this family too!" and pulled them into the circle.

The clank and rattle of plates was heard among the exultant din, and Harry watched Mrs. Figg wheel a cart into the room that held plates of Mrs. Weasley’s forgotten shortcake. "Why don’t we continue the party, now that we have something else to celebrate?" Mrs. Figg said happily. "Let’s finish this delicious dessert, shall we?"

"Shortcake," Percy breathed, making a beeline for the cart. "Oh, Mum, I’ve missed your cooking!"

They all laughed and crowded around the cart for their own plates. Ginny sat near Percy’s seat and talked to him quietly as they ate. "Percy, it might not be too late to patch things up with Penelope," she said softly.

Percy shook his head glumly. "I treated her terribly, Ginny. The most I can hope for at this point is that she’ll accept my apology... I sent a letter to her with Hermes earlier today. I haven’t yet received a reply." He checked his watch. "Once Hermes is back, I’m sending him to the Ministry with my resignation."

"Speaking of your resignation, Percy, where did it go?" Mr. Weasley asked suddenly.

"Oh... I have it, Dad," George said, taking the crumpled parchment from his pocket.

Mr. Weasley reached for it and, before Percy or anyone else could react, tossed it into the fire.

"Dad!" Percy said, shocked. "Wha... why...?"

Mr. Weasley looked squarely at his son. "We need good people at the Ministry, Percy," he said simply. "Amelia’s going to need a lot of help now that You-Know-Who is back. Despite Fudge’s motives for hiring you, you did an excellent job for him."

"But Dad..." Percy said helplessly, "I don’t even know if I still have a job... perhaps Minister Bones has already sacked me, seeing as how close I was to Fudge..."

"I know for a fact that Amelia intends to keep you on in your current position," Mr. Weasley stated calmly. "She talked to me about it earlier today; she wanted to know if it would cause problems. I told her it was fine with me."

Percy’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, and Mrs. Weasley clapped her hands in joy. "How wonderful! Percy, I’m so proud – " She was interrupted by the insistent ringing of the doorbell.

"Who on Earth..." Mrs. Figg wondered as she bustled to the door. Harry heard the sound of the door opening and Mrs. Figg’s, "Hello, dear, can I help you...?"

"Is Percy Weasley here?" an unfamiliar woman’s voice asked.

All color drained from Percy’s face. His empty cake plate and fork slid from his lap and clattered to the floor as his hands went limp. "Penny..." he whispered, looking absolutely terrified. He stood abruptly as Mrs. Figg led a young woman in the lime-green Healer’s robes of St. Mungo’s into the room.

Harry vaguely recognized the older and rather pretty girl from her years at Hogwarts; she had the same dark eyes and black, curly hair, which was now pinned into a mussed chignon. Her robes and hair were dry, but her face was streaked with raindrops – or were they tears?

"Hello, Percy," Penelope said quietly. "I got your owl – it was at my flat when I got home after my shift at St. Mungo’s. I went to the Burrow and Professor Dumbledore said you were here."

"Penny..." Percy gulped, taking a step toward her, his eyes wide and beseeching. "I – I’m so sorry. For everything. For the way I acted, for what I did. I was a total git... I don’t expect forgiveness, but I do hope you can find it in your heart to – "

"Percy, shut up," Penelope said.

Percy obediently shut his mouth, looking more terrified than ever.

Harry was feeling very uncomfortable. He knew that everyone else had ceased to exist for Percy and Penelope, but he still felt like he was eavesdropping on a very private conversation. He discreetly looked around the room and saw that everyone else seemed frozen in place as they watched the pair.

"You hurt me," she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"I know," Percy whispered, anguished. "I’m sorry."

"You really, really hurt me," Penny said, her lower lip beginning to tremble.

"I know," Percy said again. "I’m so sorry, Penny."

"I was over you, Percy Weasley," she said forcefully. "It took me months, but I finally got over you. I was doing just fine without you. I had a good job, good friends, and a good life – all without you."

Percy’s already pale face turned stark white, and he looked stricken. "Penny..." he mumbled desolately.

"And then," she continued, her voice shaking and her body quivering, "today, when I arrived home, I got your letter – that absolutely beautiful letter – and suddenly my life felt empty again."

"I... you..." Percy stammered, hope beginning to dawn on his face.

"I was completely over you, and just like that – " Penelope snapped her fingers," – you made me realize how much I still miss you – how much I still care for you."

Percy inhaled sharply, some color returning to his pale cheeks. "Do you... you mean... you forgive me?" he rasped hopefully.

"Forgive you? Forgive you?" Penny sniffled, losing the battle with her tears. They streamed down her face in torrents as she cried, "Of course I forgive you – I love you, you daft man!"

Percy gave her one incredulous look and sprang at her, catching her up in his arms.

Harry stared in amazement at the sight of Percy – Percy Weasley – on the giving end of one of the most passionate kisses he’d ever seen. Not that he’d seen many, but still – who would have thought that stodgy, stuffy, uptight Percy could kiss like that?

Judging from Fred, George, Ron, and Bill’s current expressions of shock, they felt the same astonishment as Harry. Ginny, however, was smiling (since she’d previously witnessed Percy and Penelope’s snogs, it didn’t appear to bother her), and Hermione looked close to tears herself – though they seemed to be tears of happiness, since she was also smiling. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were staring at the two with mouths agape.

Abruptly, Percy and Penny broke apart. Percy was flushed and Penelope was blushing, but they both looked supremely happy. Percy’s eyes were bright and intense, and as he looked the woman in his arms, he seemed to be making a decision.

"Penelope Ann Clearwater," Percy said, his voice sure and strong and ringing through the room, "I love you – will you marry me?"

Mrs. Weasley gasped while Penelope’s dark brown eyes widened in shock. She gazed at Percy, searching his face for signs of uncertainty or doubt, but there were none. "Yes!" she cried, laughing through her tears. Percy picked her up and swung her around, her green robes billowing. "Yes!" she said again, pulling Percy’s head down for another kiss.

Harry didn’t know why he thought of it – it just seemed right, somehow – but he started to clap. Hermione and Ron followed his lead, and soon all the Weasleys were giving the young couple a round of heartfelt and enthusiastic applause.

As Percy beamed at his new fiancée, and she smiled back at him, Harry felt a lump in his throat. Voldemort doesn’t stand a chance against love this strong, he thought, and moved forward with the others to congratulate the new couple.

~ end of Chapter 8 ~