"M-may I speak with you, Professor?" he asked timidly.
"Oh, all right." Snape ungraciously showed the boy to the couch, wondering what he could be doing here. Surely he hadn't just broken up with Jones and had come to beg Snape for either his intercession or advice.
"What is it, Mr Weasley?" he snapped as soon as the boy had seated himself.
Percy took a deep breath. "I'm here so you can тАУ can тАУ " He ground to a halt, his eyes filling with tears.
Oh Merlin, not another one. Snape groaned mentally. "If it is advice that you seek, perhaps you would be more comfortable speaking with your head of House or your father?" he suggested hopefully, trying to forestall an unwanted confidence.
"No," Percy looked surprised. "I'm here so you can thrash me."
Snape's brows drew together. It was one thing to have a reputation as a terrifying instructor. It was quite another to be considered a child abuser. "And why, pray tell, do you imagine I would do such a thing?" he demanded, trying not to show how deeply offended he was.
"Because I nearly got Harry killed. And if you spanked him until he couldn't sit for riding his broom in the Great Hall, I guess you'll probably c-cane me for what I did." Percy looked positively green at the prospect, even as Snape cursed Harry's overdramatic breakfast scene.
"And how exactly did you place Mr Potter in jeopardy?" Snape pressed, though he had a good idea where this was going. Bloody Gryffindors with their bloody over-developed sense of responsibility!
"I was the one who found Scabbers," Percy whispered, staring at his tightly clasped hands. "I begged Mum and Dad until they said I could keep him. It was all my fault that he was at the Burrow. And I made a big fuss when I got my Prefect badge, saying I needed a new familiar. That's why Ronnie got Scabbers. It was all because I thought I was too important to have an old rat anymore. I made my parents hand him down to Ronnie, and that could have gotten my little brother killed. Pettigrew was living in the dorm with them. He could have killed Ronnie or Harry anytime in the last few months."
Snape felt a headache coming on. "Mr Weasley, you were a mere child when you first encountered Pettigrew. You can hardly blame yourself for not recognizing a disguised animagus." But looking at the boy's face, he knew that was untrue. The boy obviously could and did blame himself.
"While you are correct that I am normally highly intolerant of anyone who places Mr Potter in harm's way, even I cannot find you culpable in this case, Mr Weasley."
"But who else is there?" Percy burst out, his eyes bright with tears. "There's no one to blame but me!"
"What about your parents?" Snape cut in. Percy's jaw dropped.
"My parents?" he echoed blankly.
"Yes, Mr Weasley. Why do you find it peculiar that I would look to the adults in the household, rather than fixing the blame on a young child? Do you imagine your parents are in some way intellectually impaired? That they were unfamiliar with the concept of animagi? That there is nothing negligent in allowing a child to adopt a wild creature without so much as having the animal examined to ensure it is not carrying some disease, let alone be a fugitive Death Eater in disguise?"
Percy goggled at him. "But тАУ but тАУ"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Snape rose to his feet and stalked over to the fireplace. Snatching a handful of floo powder, he shouted, "The Burrow!" and stuck his head into the flames. "Molly, Arthur. I need you here. Now."
"No, no тАУ I don't want to see them!" Percy gabbled, panicked. "They must be furious with me." He turned to flee, and Snape grabbed him by the back of the robe.
"Oh, no. You stay right there and don't move," he ordered the boy, but the Gryffindor ignored him, struggling to reach the door.
That was it. Playing therapist to Gryffindors was not in Snape's job description, and a hefty smack to the teen's backside signaled the end of Snape's patience.
"Ow!" Percy yelped in shock. He spun to face Snape, both hands clutching his bum. Merlin, that HURT. It's been so long, I'd forgotten what it's like to get walloped. He noticed the professor's glare and abruptly realized that his outright defiance had been a very bad idea.
"Sit. Down." Snape pointed to the sofa.
Percy swallowed hard. "Yes, Uncle Sev. Erm тАУ m-may I please stand? I'd rather not sit just now."
Snape's reaction to Percy's use of the term "Uncle Sev" was happily aborted by Molly and Arthur emerging from the floo. "What is it, Severus? What's happened now?" Both were understandably wild-eyed, trying to imagine what new catastrophe might have occurred in the few hours since they were informed of the last one.
"Your son," Snape indicated Percy, who now stood redfaced in front of his couch, "is convinced that Pettigrew's ability to masquerade as a family pet is entirely his fault. He has convinced himself that you hold him responsible for the danger in which your family has been living."
Molly gasped. "Percy! No!"
"Is this really true, son?" Arthur asked gently. "Surely you know better."
Percy stared at the ground. "It was all my fault. I was the one who had a tantrum when you tried to say that a strange rat might not make a good familiar. I was so worried about being the only kid at Hogwarts who wouldn't have a familiar, I didn't give you a choice. I made you let me keep him."
"Oh, Percy!" Molly enfolded the distraught teen into her capacious embrace as if he were a much younger child. "You mustn't blame yourself! You didn't make us do anything. We decided to allow you to keep it."
"But I yelled and screamed and тАУ"
"Well, yes, love, that's what children do. Don't you remember when you wanted us to sell Ronnie to the circus so you wouldn't have to share a room with him anymore? You yelled and screamed and had a big tanty then too, but you didn't get your way." Molly patted his cheek gently. "Or the time that тАУ"
"Yes, okay!" Percy said quickly, cutting off further embarrassing recollections. "I remember."
Arthur grinned. "It's true you pitched a fit to try to keep the rat, son, but that isn't what convinced us. We just thought it would be a good idea for you to have a pet. You deserved a treat for helping with the younger children, and it seemed like a harmless reward. If we hadn't wanted to let you keep Scabbers, no amount of howling would have changed our minds. Surely you haven't forgotten how most tantrums ended?" he asked, smiling.
Percy rubbed his backside reminiscently. "Yes," he admitted.
"So you see, love, it wasn't up to you. It wasn't your decision or your fault," Molly pressed.
"Exactly," Snape drawled. "The fault lies squarely with Pettigrew. Although if you insist upon assigning blame, logic dictates you start with your parents. After all, well before either Ronald or Harry was at risk, you were."
Now all three were staring at him with varying degrees of surprise. "Me! But why would Pettigrew kill me?" Percy asked.
Snape rolled his eyes. To the Chronicle of Higher Wizarding Education, When faced with naivete that is obviously genetic in origin, and compounded by sorting into a House that apparently equates appearance with reality, is it ever acceptable to throw up one's hands and declare the student hopeless? Does professionalism require that one continue one's efforts to encourage the willfully blind to see, or is it permissible to cease efforts before developing an ulcer?