I'll Be Home For Christmas

Percy looked up in surprise from his desk. There, standing in the doorway of his office at the Ministry, stood his father. It was six pm on Christmas Eve. He hadn't been expecting anyone to still be around the Ministry, let alone his father.

At a nod of acknowledgement from Percy, Arthur took a couple steps inside the room, and held out a package.

"Do what you like with it but I'm not taking it back." His voice was gruff, as if he'd been out in the icy cold for awhile before coming in here, or as if he was trying to hold back emotions.

"You're a bit early to be playing Father Christmas, aren't you." Percy's voice was also rough. He hadn't been outside since lunch.

"Well, Father Christmas obviously doesn't have your mother's holiday meals to recover from later in the evening." It wasn't very funny, but they both laughed far more than the joke deserved. Laughter was a safe emotion.

"You know there's always plenty of food and room at the table... son." Arthur let the question linger in his eyes. Percy didn't miss it.

"I -" It was harder to make excuses these days. "I really can't leave. Since Fudge was killed-" His voice broke off, and Percy shuffled some of the papers in front of him to make his point. When he looked back up, his father was still watching him, a strange sort of smile on his face.

"I'm proud of you, Percy," he finally said. "People in the Ministry have been talking about you - you've been vital to holding together the Ministry since that attack."

"Yes, well, I had experience," Percy said slowly. The laughter this time was even longer.

"Can I - I mean, what time is mum serving dinner tomorrow?" He raised his eyes, and allowed them to briefly make contact with his father's, before looking away.

"Whenever it's ready. You should remember that." Arthur must have seen the silent plea in his son's eyes, because he continued. "Why don't you drop by around three."

Percy nodded. "I'll be there."

"Well, I should go, I told your mother I was just popping into Diagon Alley for some milk before the stores closed." He held up a bag Percy hadn't noticed before.

"And I really do have things to finish up here," Percy said honestly, and with a hint of real regret.

"Merry Christmas, son," Arthur said with a smile.

"Merry Christmas, dad," Percy returned the greetings along with the smile.

The smile stayed on his face for the rest of the evening, as he continued to go over Fudge's notes and schedules - something that only he could interpret - from the weeks leading up to the Death Eater attack on the Ministry. They were trying to see if any clues could be found, but it appeared Fudge had remained oblivious right up until death. That was the real tragedy of it all.

The smile was still on his face when he went to bed that night, and he found it had grown into an outright grin when he woke up. He laughed as he sat alone in his flat in his pajamas with a mug of spiced cider and opened his gift. A sweater. In the Ministry shade of purple. And when he took finally took a shower to start getting ready for his day, Percy couldn't help but sing loudly to himself,

"I'll be home for Christmas..."