Introductions (again)

the characters and places in this story belong to j k rowling, im just playing in the sandbox

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"Arthur – it's Percy!"

"What?"

Everyone quickly turned towards the window. Ginny stood up to get a better view. Sure enough, there was Percy, striding across the snowy lawn. However he wasn't the only one.

"Arthur – he's with the Minister!"

Indeed, limping slightly in Percy's wake was the man Harry remembered seeing in the Daily Prophet, his grizzled grey hair dotted with snow.

"Hang on – isn't that Oliver?"

The man on Percy's other side had a cloak pulled up against the wind, but the longer Harry looked the more sure he was that Fred was correct: Oliver Wood, Percy Weasley and Rufus Scrimgeour were all walking up to the house.

Ginny wasn't the only one standing now.

Before anyone could say anything else, the back door opened and the three stepped though. There was a moment of stiff silence, each group looking at the other, before Percy broke it.

"Hello, Mother," he said. "Merry Christmas."

"Oh Percy," said Mrs Weasley, half a sob, and threw herself into his arms. Oliver took it as his cue to remove his hood, and Fred, George and Harry leant forwards, questioning looks on all their faces.

Oliver, however, wasn't looking at them, but Percy and Mrs Weasley, a small smile on his face. Scrimgeour was also watching, leaning on a walking stick Harry could have sworn he didn't have earlier.

"You must forgive us the intrusion," he said, once Mrs Weasley had finally let go of Percy, beaming. "We were just in the area – work, you know – and Percy couldn't resist stopping by."

Mrs Weasley began tearing up again. Percy, however, wasn't looking at any of his family, but was standing awkwardly straight and looking instead at Oliver. Harry shared confused glances with Ginny and Ron. Mr Weasley, Fred and George observed him silently, expressionless.

"Minister, please, come in, sit down!" Mrs Weasley flustered, jumping to pull up a chair. "Have something to eat, or –"

"No, no," interrupted Scrimgeour. "It's quite alright Molly." Harry had the sneaking suspicion he'd checked her name with Percy before entering the house. "We'll only be here a tat, wouldn't at all if Percy didn't want to see you all so badly. I'll just take a stroll around the garden, let you catch up in private. Well, unless anyone would like to show me around. Ah, that young man's finished, why not him?"

The reason for the visit slotted into place, and the atmosphere around the table changing rapidly. Everyone looked from Scrimgeour to Harry; no one seemed to believe he really didn't know Harry's name, nor find it natural he was chosen when his was not the only clean plate. It didn't explain Oliver's presence, however.

Just as he was about to break the silence, Percy and Oliver separated. They had been whispering furiously to each other for the last few minutes, and now Percy was the centre of attention as he approached the table, a determined glint in his eyes. Scrimgeour seemed distinctly unhappy with him. So much for wanting Percy to connect with his family.

"First of all," Percy said, "I'm sorry." There was a snort of laughter from Fred's direction, but he was perfectly composed when Harry turned to him. "No, really –" earnestness bled into his voice "– I– I was a fool. A nit, a pompous prat, a– a–"