Percy Weasley hesitated before knocking on the crooked door of the Burrow. It had been years since he'd spent Christmas with his family, and he wasn't entirely sure how he'd be received. Taking a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles against the worn wood.
The door swung open almost immediately, revealing his mother's beaming face. "Percy! Oh, come in, come in!" Molly exclaimed, pulling him into a tight embrace. "We've missed you so much, dear."
Percy awkwardly patted her back. "Hello, Mother. Thank you for having me."
As he stepped inside, the familiar chaos of the Burrow washed over him. Delicious smells wafted from the kitchen, punctuated by occasional small explosions from the twins' room upstairs. In the living room, his father was fiddling with some Muggle contraption while Ginny and Ron played an aggressive game of Exploding Snap.
"Look who's here, everyone!" Molly announced.
Arthur looked up, his face breaking into a wide smile. "Percy, m'boy! Wonderful to see you."
Ron and Ginny paused their game, offering tentative smiles and waves. Percy nodded stiffly in return, unsure how to bridge the gap that had formed between them over the years.
"Where should I put my things?" he asked, gesturing to his neatly packed trunk.
"Oh, you'll be sharing with Charlie in his old room," Molly said. "He's out back, de-gnoming the garden. Why don't you go say hello while I get your trunk upstairs?"
Percy's eyebrows rose slightly. He hadn't spent much time with Charlie over the years, given their age difference and Charlie's work in Romania. "Right. Thank you, Mother."
He made his way through the house and out the back door. In the overgrown garden, he spotted a stocky figure with vivid red hair wrestling with a particularly stubborn gnome.
"Need a hand?" Percy called out, immediately feeling foolish. Charlie was clearly the more experienced de-gnomer.
Charlie looked up, grinning as he flung the gnome over the hedge. "Perce! Good to see you, little brother." He strode over, clapping Percy on the shoulder with a calloused hand. "Fancy joining the gnome-tossing championship?"
Percy adjusted his glasses. "I'm not sure I'd be much help. It's been a while since I've engaged in such... activities."
Charlie laughed. "Come on, it's like riding a broom. You never really forget." He bent down, snatching up another gnome by its feet. "Here, have a go."
Hesitantly, Percy accepted the squirming creature. "I'm not certain this is the most efficient method of garden maintenance," he muttered, before spinning awkwardly and releasing the gnome. It sailed a respectable distance before landing with a soft thud.
"Not bad!" Charlie exclaimed. "Bit more practice and you'll be giving the twins a run for their money."
For the next half hour, the brothers worked side by side, gradually clearing the garden of its gnome infestation. As they worked, Charlie regaled Percy with tales of his latest adventures in Romania.
"...and then the Horntail decides she doesn't much like the taste of fireproof potion," Charlie was saying, "so she spits it out – right onto my favorite boots!"
Percy found himself chuckling despite his usual reserve. "I hope you were able to salvage them?"
Charlie grinned, holding up a foot to display a rather scorched-looking dragon hide boot. "Wore 'em every day since. Figure they're extra fireproof now."
As they finished up, Molly called them in for dinner. The kitchen was warm and inviting, filled with the aroma of roast chicken and herb-stuffing. Percy took a seat between Charlie and his father, feeling a mix of comfort and unease as the rest of the family filtered in.
Fred and George arrived last, their hair slightly singed. "Evening, all," Fred said cheerfully.
"Hello, Weatherby," George added with a smirk in Percy's direction.
Percy stiffened, but before he could retort, Charlie spoke up. "Oi, lay off him, you two. It's Christmas."
The twins exchanged a look but didn't push further. As everyone dug into the delicious meal, conversation flowed freely around the table. Percy found himself mostly listening, occasionally answering direct questions about his work at the Ministry.
After dinner, as the family gathered in the living room, Percy felt at loose ends. He hovered near the bookshelf, unsure whether to join in the boisterous game of Charades that was unfolding.
Charlie sidled up to him, two steaming mugs in hand. "Here," he said, offering one to Percy. "Mum's special hot chocolate. Still your favorite, right?"
Percy accepted the mug, surprised and touched that Charlie remembered. "Yes, thank you."
They stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching as Ginny attempted to act out what appeared to be a Hippogriff in labor.
"So," Charlie said eventually, "how are things really going at the Ministry? You seemed a bit... tense when the twins asked earlier."
Percy sighed, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. "It's... complicated. There's a lot of pressure, especially given recent events. Sometimes I wonder if I'm really making a difference or just pushing papers around."
Charlie nodded thoughtfully. "I get that. Used to feel the same way when I first started at the reserve. Like I was just shoveling dragon dung all day."
"What changed?" Percy asked, genuinely curious.
"Realized that every little bit helps, you know? Even the dung-shoveling. It all contributes to the bigger picture." Charlie grinned. "Plus, I got to work with actual dragons. Bit more exciting than cauldron bottom reports, I'd wager."
Percy felt a small smile tugging at his lips. "I suppose you have a point. Though I'll have you know, cauldron bottom thickness is a matter of utmost importance to public safety."
Charlie laughed, a warm, hearty sound that made Percy's smile widen. "Never change, Perce."
As the evening wore on, Percy found himself relaxing more in Charlie's company. They swapped stories about their respective fields, finding surprising common ground in their shared love of rules and regulations – though Charlie's were more focused on dragon handling safety than international cauldron standards.
The next morning, Percy woke early out of habit. He dressed quietly, careful not to disturb Charlie who was still snoring softly in the other bed. Making his way downstairs, he was surprised to find the kitchen already occupied.
"Morning, Perce," his father said, looking up from his copy of the Daily Prophet. "Tea?"
"Yes, please," Percy replied, taking a seat at the table. Arthur poured him a steaming cup, and for a few moments, they sat in slightly awkward silence.
"Percy," Arthur began hesitantly, "I just wanted to say... well, your mother and I are very glad you're here. We've missed you, son."
Percy felt a lump form in his throat. "I've missed you too, Father. I... I'm sorry for how things have been between us."
Arthur reached across the table, patting Percy's hand. "Water under the bridge, m'boy. We're just happy to have you home."
Their moment was interrupted by the thunderous sound of multiple people descending the stairs. Soon, the kitchen was filled with Weasleys in various states of wakefulness, all clamoring for breakfast.
"Right then," Molly said, brandishing her wand. "Who wants to help with the Christmas baking?"
To everyone's surprise, Percy volunteered. "I could assist with measuring the ingredients, if you'd like," he offered. "Precision is key in potion-making and baking alike."
Molly beamed at him. "That would be lovely, dear. Charlie, you can help too. Those strong dragon-wrangling arms will be perfect for kneading dough."
Soon, the kitchen was a flurry of activity. Percy meticulously measured out flour, sugar, and spices, while Charlie enthusiastically pounded at a large lump of dough. Flour dusted their hair and clothes, and the air was filled with the scent of ginger and cinnamon.
"Blimey, Perce," Charlie chuckled, watching his brother carefully level off a teaspoon of nutmeg. "You haven't changed a bit since we were kids. Remember when you used to organize Mum's spice rack by alphabetical order and country of origin?"
Percy flushed slightly. "Organization is the key to efficiency," he muttered.
"Aw, I'm just teasing," Charlie said, ruffling Percy's hair and leaving a streak of flour. "Your attention to detail is dead useful. These'll probably be the best biscuits Mum's ever made."
As the day progressed, Percy found himself drawn into more family activities. He lost spectacularly at a game of Quidditch in the orchard, but surprised everyone (himself included) by winning a round of Wizarding Trivial Pursuit.
That evening, as snow began to fall outside, the family gathered around the wireless to listen to Celestina Warbeck's annual Christmas broadcast. Percy found himself squeezed onto the sofa between Charlie and Bill, who had arrived that afternoon with Fleur.
As Celestina warbled through "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love," Charlie leaned over to Percy. "Bet you know all the words to this one, eh? What with your love of cauldrons and all."
Percy rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling. "I'll have you know my musical tastes are far more refined."
"Oh yeah?" Charlie grinned. "What's your favorite then? 'The Ballad of Barny the Fruitbat'?"
Percy sniffed haughtily. "I'll have you know I quite enjoy the Weird Sisters."
Charlie's eyebrows shot up. "Pull the other one!"
"It's true," Percy insisted. "Their use of bagpipes is quite innovative."
Charlie threw his head back, laughing so hard he nearly fell off the sofa. "Merlin's beard, Perce. You're full of surprises."
As the broadcast ended and the family began to disperse for bed, Charlie caught Percy's arm. "Fancy a nightcap? I've got a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky stashed away."
Percy hesitated for a moment before nodding. "That sounds... nice, actually."
They snuck out to the garden shed, where Charlie produced the bottle from behind a stack of old cauldrons. He conjured two glasses and poured a generous measure for each of them.
"Cheers," Charlie said, clinking his glass against Percy's. "To family."
Percy took a sip, feeling the whisky burn pleasantly down his throat. "To family," he echoed softly.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the snow fall through the shed's grimy window.
"You know," Charlie said eventually, "I've always admired you, Perce."
Percy nearly choked on his whisky. "I beg your pardon?"
Charlie nodded, his expression serious. "It's true. You've always known exactly what you wanted and gone after it. Takes guts to stick to your convictions like that, even when it's not the popular choice."
Percy felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the Firewhisky spreading through his chest. "I... thank you, Charlie. Though I fear my convictions haven't always led me down the right path."
Charlie shrugged. "We all make mistakes. The important thing is learning from them." He refilled their glasses. "And for what it's worth, I think you're on the right path now. Coming home, reconnecting with the family... it takes courage to admit when you've been wrong."
Percy blinked rapidly, his eyes suddenly stinging. "I appreciate that. More than you know."
They talked long into the night, sharing stories and laughter. Percy found himself opening up about his fears and insecurities in a way he never had before, while Charlie confided his own doubts about his chosen career path.
As the first light of dawn began to creep across the sky, they made their way back to the house, supporting each other as they climbed the stairs.
"Merry Christmas, Perce," Charlie mumbled as they collapsed into their respective beds.
"Merry Christmas, Charlie," Percy replied, a smile on his face as he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, despite their late night, both brothers were up early for the chaos of Christmas gift-giving. Percy was touched to find that his family had gotten him presents, despite the tension of the past few years.
As wrapping paper flew and exclamations of delight filled the air, Percy caught Charlie's eye across the room. His brother gave him a warm smile and a wink, and Percy felt a surge of gratitude for the unexpected bond they had formed.
Later, as the family sat down to Christmas dinner, Percy found himself truly relaxed for the first time in years. He laughed at the twins' jokes, engaged in a spirited debate with Hermione about house-elf rights, and even tried a bite of every dish (including the rather dubious-looking cranberry and Firewhisky sauce that George had concocted).
As the meal wound down, Arthur stood up, raising his glass. "I'd like to propose a toast," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "To family, both present and absent. To new beginnings and old traditions. And to love, which brings us together even in the darkest of times."
"To family," everyone echoed, glasses clinking.
Percy caught Charlie's eye again, and they shared a private smile. In that moment, Percy knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them with the strength of his family behind him – and a newfound friendship with his brother Charlie to light the way.