Percy Take the Wheel

seven

"While I'd be the first to say that Lockhart knows what he's doing," Percy stared at the booklist incredulously, "This is a little overboard." Molly was tsking idly over his shoulder at the lists, but didn't interject. He had everyone's annual Hogwarts letters spread over the dining room table (to Ginny's dismay, as she'd prefer to fawn over hers a bit longer) and was tapping the large chunk devoted to every one of Lockhart's adventure books. "We're getting one set," he decided, "and we'll bloody well read them aloud if we have to, to finish them before the year starts."

"We can look through the thrift stores, and get some doubles," Bill hedged, crossing his arms with a huff, "Why pick this year to abruptly develop an appreciation for good fiction?"

"It's hardly fiction, but, I do believe they're been a bit sensationalised," Percy murmured off-handedly, as the two of them trailed off into their own thoughts, eyes locked on the letters spread before them. "We could make temporary copies," Percy suggested, there wasn't a copyright spell yet that didn't take at least 24 hours to take effect, and it wasn't as if they were stealing the book, or distributing it, which were what was actually against the law, "Especially since someone promised Ginny an owl."

"Errol is practically dead and she agreed to both letting the family have use and just getting the one big present," Bill defended, and when Percy's only response was a raised eyebrow, deflated. "We'll look at the second-hand bookstores first and then we'll consider it if we can't get two sets for a reasonable price." Percy nodded with half a smirk; looking wouldn't hurt anything, after all.

"Help," came a plaintive voice, and Ginny was leaning on Bill's arm, a lopsided, half-done braid in her hair. She looked up at him with big, pleading eyes, "I can't reach behind my head to do my braid."

"What about a ponytail?" Bill suggested, shiftily, and she pouted, not accepting the substitution as equal, "You look nice in a ponytail, Ginny."

"Bill, we're going to Diagon today and it's my birthday," she explained matter-of-factly, the pout sliding out of her tone, "I can't be a mess." Bill muttered something about sisters under his breath and tried again.

"The ghoul will likely eat anyone who even thinks you look a mess," he placated, and she huffed dramatically, the reminder that he'd already given into quite a lot she'd wanted today sliding off her like water off a duck's back. Percy still had no clue what it was about Ginny batting big, teary eyes at Bill that had him scrambling to appease her. He should know by now Ginny had complete control of her own tear ducts.

"I got it," Percy interjected, taking Ginny by the shoulders and sitting her down sideways on a chair. With all the practice braiding and weaving he was getting lately, he had her hair done in a snap, "Ribbon?" She supplied it, and he tied off the braid, patting the bow to let her know she was done, "Alright. Get your brothers going, will you? We'll be leaving soon."

"Your brothers, again," she pointed out, but slipped from the room merrily enough, presumably to obey, checking her hair by feel as she left.

"That is weird phrasing," Bill agreed, turning to Percy once she was gone, but let it drop at the first sign of ever higher raised eyebrows, lifting his hands in surrender and turning back to Percy's spread of materials, re-focusing, "What potions supplies can we supplement from the forest?"

At that moment, a wet sound, like a large, viscous bubble popping, could be heard, followed by a cry, "Everything's fine!"

Percy met Bill's eyes wryly, "Ask the twins."