mirrorball

chapter twelve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everybody was wearing new sweaters when they all sat down for Christmas lunch, everyone except Fleur (on whom, it appeared, Mrs. Weasley had not wanted to waste one) and Mrs. Weasley herself, who was sporting a brand-new midnight blue witch's hat glittering with what looked like tiny starlike diamonds, and a spectacular golden necklace. "Fred and George gave them to me! Aren't they beautiful?" 

"Well, we find we appreciate you more and more, Mum, now we're washing our own socks," said George, waving an airy hand. "Parsnips, Remus?" 

"Harry, you've got a maggot in your hair," said Ginny cheerfully, leaning across the table to pick it out. A shrill scream rang out as Ginny tossed the maggot at Ron. Bill quickly pointed his wand at the tiny pest and flung it out the window.

 "'Ow  'orrible," said Fleur, with an affected little shudder. 

"Yes, isn't it?" said Ron. "Gravy, Fleur?" 

In his eagerness to help her, he knocked the gravy boat flying; Bill waved his wand and the gravy soared up in the air and returned meekly to the boat. 

"You are as bad as zat Tonks," said Fleur to Ron, when she had finished kissing Bill in thanks. "She is always knocking —"

"I invited dear Tonks to come along today," said Mrs. Weasley, setting down the carrots with unnecessary force and glaring at Fleur. "But she wouldn't come. Have you spoken to her lately, Remus?" 

"No, I haven't been in contact with anybody very much," said Lupin. "But Tonks has got her own family to go to, hasn't she?"

"Hmmm," said Mrs. Weasley. "Maybe. I got the impression she was planning to spend Christmas alone, actually." She gave Lupin an annoyed look, as though it was all his fault she was getting Fleur for a daughter-in-law instead of Tonks.

"Tonks's Patronus has changed its form," Harry told everyone. "Snape said so anyway. I didn't know that could happen. Why would your Patronus change?"

Lupin took his time chewing his turkey and swallowing before saying slowly, "Sometimes . . . a great shock . . . an emotional upheaval . . ." 

"It looked big, and it had four legs," said Harry, struck by a sudden thought and lowering his voice. "Hey . . . it couldn't be — ?" 

"Arthur!" said Mrs. Weasley suddenly. She had risen from her chair; her hand was pressed over her heart and she was staring out of the kitchen window. "Arthur — it's Percy!" 

"What?" Mr. Weasley looked around. Everybody looked quickly at the window; Ginny stood up for a better look. There, sure enough, was Percy Weasley, striding across the snowy yard, his horn-rimmed glasses glinting in the sunlight. 

He was not, however, alone. "Arthur, he's — he's with the Minister!" 

And sure enough, the man Clara had seen in the Daily Prophet was following along in Percy's wake, limping slightly, his mane of graying hair and his black cloak flecked with snow. Before any of them could say anything, before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley could do more than exchange stunned looks, the back door opened and there stood Percy. There was a moment's painful silence. Then Percy said rather stiffly, "Merry Christmas, Mother." 

"Oh, Percy!" said Mrs. Weasley, and she threw herself into his arms. 

Rufus Scrimgeour paused in the doorway, leaning on his walking stick and smiling as he observed this affecting scene. "You must forgive this intrusion," he said, when Mrs. Weasley looked around at him, beaming and wiping her eyes. "Percy and I were in the vicinity — working, you know— and he couldn't resist dropping in and seeing you all."