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Harry Potter and the Cracked Reservoir
Chapter 12: Percy’s Prank
By Musings of Apathy
Chapter 12: Percy’s Prank
Thank you to my Beta’s Donalddeutsch, Cateagle and Sparky40sw.
"Harry," Harry was greeted as he came into the Burrow. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Mr. Weasley," Harry replied.
"You seem well awake for a Saturday morning," Arthur said.
"Yes sir," Harry agreed. "I just got back from my morning workout. It’s good for waking you up."
At that moment the door to the kitchen opened, and Mrs. Weasley appeared.
"Good morning, dears," she said, "Are you both ready for some breakfast?"
"Sure," Harry smiled, "thank you Mrs. Weasley."
They both got up, went to the kitchen table and sat for the morning meal.
"Harry?" asked Mr. Weasley, "I’ve seen you working out every morning that you’ve been back to the Burrow. What changed? Why the sudden fervor for fitness?"
"Well," Harry started, contemplating what to tell his substitute parents. He did view them as parents; they were the closest that he had ever known. "I’ll tell you if you both promise not to try to stop me or overreact."
Seeing the serious demeanor of their almost son they became quite somber themselves.
"Of course, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, "Please tell us, if it’s so serious."
"Well, um," said Harry, "Did Professor Dumbledore ever tell you what you were guarding at the Department of Mysteries?"
They looked at each other, having a silent conversation through their eyes.
"He told us that it was a prophecy," Arthur answered, "but that was lost when the sphere was broken during the fight."
Harry took a deep, steadying breath.
"That’s true," he said. "The ministry record of the prophecy was lost, along with a bunch of others, but the it’s still be remembered by the person that heard it when it was given and other people know the first portion of it."
"What do you mean, dear?" she asked. "Do you know what is in the prophecy? And wouldn’t the giver of the prophecy know it also, now that I think about it?"
"The giver of the prophecy, when she gives a true prophecy, does not even know that she gave a prophecy, much less the content," Harry said. "The person who heard the prophecy was none other than Professor Dumbledore."
They were shocked. They had obviously thought that the prophecy was lost.
"I think that you should understand the danger around me," Harry said. "So, if you would like to hear it, I’ll tell you, but it could put you and your family in danger. Voldemort," he said, ignoring their flinch, "spent an entire year trying find out what was in the prophecy; so if he finds out that you know it, it may put you in more danger. It’s your choice," Harry offered.
Arthur and Molly shared a look; one that only a long married couple could. In that look was as much discussion as they needed to decide to be informed, all without a word spoken.
"I think that we need to know, Harry," Arthur responded. "Our family will be in this fight whether we know the whole story or not. We won’t back away from the right thing to do."
"Thank you," Harry said sincerely. "The prophecy was between Voldemort," Harry paused while they flinched, "and me. It was given before I was born. The part that Voldemort," again a flinch, "knows was that a baby would be born at the end of July to parents that had gone against him three times, and that that child would be the one able to vanquish him." By now Harry was just trudging on for the very fact that when he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to restart. "This caused him to want to kill me and for more than a year after I was born, he hunted my parents, trying to get them in a position to kill me as a baby. He caught them at Godric’s Hollow when Peter Petigrew betrayed them and me. My father tried to give my mom enough time to get away by standing in Voldemort’s way, but this only got my mother to my crib before she was set upon by the bastard. She pleaded for my life, but he just killed her to get to me. Her sacrifice and some ancient blood magic protected me when he cast the curse, leaving me with this scar," Harry said, moving his bangs for a view of his forehead. "What he didn’t know is that the last part of the prophecy foretold that part; it said that he would mark me as his equal and neither of us may live while the other survives. This means that, until one of us is victorious, this will be our focus in life. Now that I know this, I know that I need to prepare," Harry concluded. "There is more, but that is the important part."
The couple sat there in shock.
"Morning."
Harry turned to see the rest of the house’s residents come into the kitchen.
"You told them, didn’t you, Harry?" Ginny concluded from the looks on her parents’ faces.
This snapped Mrs. Weasley out of her stupor.
"You told them!?!"
"Not long ago," Harry said. "But I had to tell them because Ron and Hermione are my best friends and they needed to know what they have gotten themselves in for, I wanted Ginny to know what the danger is and what I have in store for my life, so that if it was too much she could leave me before it started."
"Oh Harry, you know that I could never leave you," Ginny said.
Harry hugged his girlfriend a thankful good morning.
"Thank you, Gin. That means a lot, but if it’s ever too much, I’ll understand," Harry replied with a downcast face.
Ginny didn’t like his demeanor. He, sometimes, lacked self-confidence and it bugged her.
So she hit him in the shoulder.
"Ow," Harry said, "What was that for?"
"That is for thinking that we would abandon you!" she scolded, "We all love you and will stand by you to the end."
"The end," Harry whispered.
"Yes, the end of your destiny but not your life," Ginny argued. "You know what that prophecy tells me?" she asked.
"What?" Harry asked. "It looks pretty bleak to me."
"It tells me that you can win this," Ginny said, drawing Harry into a tight hug. "It tells me that this is your focus now but once you are victorious, you will have finished with your destiny and can have your life to yourself with no obligation to anyone but me. It tells me that we have a long and happy life ahead of us."
Most men would run to the hills after their future was planned like this, but Harry knew where the feeling and planning was coming from. She was not trying to trap him, merely give him a future to look forward to.
But he still couldn’t rest with things where they stand.
"Oh?" Harry quipped. "And in this future that you have planned for me, what will I be doing with my time?"
Ginny rose to the challenge with a wry smile on her face.
"Oh, that’s simple, honey," Ginny returned. "You will be a statesman, called on to go all over the world and give your opinion to magical governments and give interviews and when you are not doing that you will be the best dad to our thirty-six children."
Harry pulled her over into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned into his chest, happy with the position.
"Thirty-six, Ginny?" Harry smiled. "And what would you do if I only wanted twenty one children, Miss Weasley?"
She giggled, the others just looked on in amazement.
"I guess," she responded, "at that point I will just have to get you drunk and have my way with you, Mister Potter."
"Really, Miss Weasley?" Harry asked. "And what if I don’t like the idea of forgetting that due to a drunken amnesia?"
Ron was starting to have enough of his sister and best friend’s public displays of affection.
"Oh," Ginny dragged out, "I don’t think that it will take that much alcohol to let me have my way with you, Mister Potter."
She kissed him deeply, settling deeper into his lap for the long haul.
"Eew," said Ron, having had enough of the display. "Mom, can you make them stop, we still have to eat here and at this rate I’ll lose my appetite."
Harry and Ginny smiled at each other.
"Good job, Ginny," Harry congratulated her. "It took less time to gross him out this time. I get the lead next time."
"Ginny, Harry," Mrs. Weasley scolded absentmindedly as she cooked the eggs, "stop trying to gross your brother out. It’s not fair to him. He doesn’t know how do deal with such…displays."
"Mo-o-om," whined Ron.
"Besides, such things are best left for the private, not in front of your brothers," she continued. "They are being supportive but their support could waiver if you subject them to too much of that."
"Yeah, what she said," quipped Ron.
"They’re right, Harry," said Ginny, "Lets go find a suitable ‘private’ location so as not to subject Ron to such ‘displays’," she said while getting up and dragging Harry with her.
"No, Ginny," Molly said, "sit back down and eat your breakfast."
"And I don’t like the idea of finding you two all over the house in private moments, or worse not finding you," Ron stated firmly. "You two can just conduct yourselves where we all know that you are safe."
"We will if you will," Harry stated with a challenging smile.
Harry was doing his exercises the next morning in the orchard when he started to think of what Ginny had said about his future. He was currently running between the trees. He found this to be a sufficiently mindless activity to let him think of other topics.
Harry liked the idea of a future. He could have a life once he was rid of his current problems. He could have fun and travel. He could have a family. He could have Ginny.
Harry was jolted out of his reverie when a cold bolt froze his southern regions.
Areas below his waist were feeling like he was in the arctic. He was absolutely freezing.
Harry quickly made his way back to the house, entering through the kitchen.
"Good morning, Harry. How was your run?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"Good until the last, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said with a pensive look on his face. By now his boxers were back to room temperature.
"What’s wrong, Harry?"
Harry thought for a second.
"I was finishing my run when my shorts turned cold," Harry told her. "It jolted me out of what I was doing."
"Did it stop?" she asked.
"Yeah," Harry confirmed, "I started back here and it wore off."
Mrs. Weasley pondered the situation.
"Well," she asked, "what were you doing besides running?"
"I was thinking," Harry said.
"About what?"
"About what we were talking about yesterday morning," Harry answered.
"The future?" Mrs. Weasley asked, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Yeah," Harry admitted, "I guess that I never have contemplated surviving to the future before."
"Oh, Harry, of course you have a future," she assure him with a mother’s care.
"I’m starting to realize that now, Mrs. Weasley," Harry told her. "When you’re a kid, you don’t think about the future. Within a couple of years of being at Hogwarts, the thought of a future was only a remote possibility. By that time I knew that an evil wizard with a lot of power wanted to kill me and it wasn’t until I talked to my friends about the prophecy that I realized that I could have a chance. I like the thought of a future. I like the thought of the future that Ginny spoke about. I like the idea of a life with her."
"Then that’s a good thing dear," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile. "She would make you happy and I am sure you will make her happy."
She turned around from the stove to see Harry with his mouth open and his eyes bugged out.
"What is it, dear?" she asked, concerned.
Harry was just trying to breath and fanning his hands.
"Did your shorts freeze again?" she asked as delicately as she could.
"Yes," he screeched out at a very unmanly pitch.
She thought about this momentarily.
"Do me a favor," Mrs. Weasley commanded, "concentrate on Quidditch, flying and chasing the snitch."
Harry closed his eyes, obviously picturing the scene that she insisted upon.
His mouth closed as his shorts heated back up.
"Ah, better," Harry said in relief. "How did you know?"
"Experience," she said sagely. "Now picture Quidditch still and think about this…do you remember last year’s Quidditch?"
Harry scowled, remembering his ban.
"Yes, that was not the best year for you," she sympathized. "Now think about who replaced you as seeker and how she did."
Harry thought about his ban and his replacement, Ginny. She did so well at seeker, she looked so good chasing the snitch.
Harry’s eyes shot open as his boxers hit a new low.
"Okay, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, "Looks like we figured that one out. Now think about something else. How about transfiguration."
Harry’s mouth changed from a shocked ‘oh’ look to a more satisfied ‘ah’ face.
"Good," she said, "now while you have that in control, go back upstairs and take a good hot shower and change."
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said with genuine appreciation. "How did you do that? You’re very smart."
"It comes from having six boys. Before the twins committed their first prank, Bill and Charlie were turning Percy’s hair blue."
Harry chuckled. "Must have horrified him."
"Yeah, I found it quite funny," she smiled. "Not that I told them anything of the sort. Can’t have mum approving of such things, now can we?"
"Of course not, Mrs. Weasley," Harry returned with a smile as well.
"Now, get upstairs and into the hot shower before my daughter makes her way back into you head," Mrs. Weasley said quickly, shooing Harry from the table.
The first thought that flew into his mind was of his beautiful girlfriend.
Harry got up quickly, his southern region freezing again.
"You just had to say that didn’t you?" Harry asked as he left.
She chuckled as Harry ran up the stairs to his room and the hot shower.
"No, Harry," she said to herself, "can’t have my son’s having all of the fun now can I?"
Harry found, after shedding his offending undergarment, a card in his underwear drawer from wonderful Percival Ignatius Weasley entitled ‘Frozen Shorts: Try to be careful of your thoughts’.
"Great," he moaned.