The whole Weasley family had gathered at The Burrow for a celebration. Percy's oldest daughter, Emma, would be leaving for her first year at Hogwarts in a couple of days, and there was always a big family party when one of the children was ready for school.

There was no way everyone would fit in the tiny kitchen, so tables were set up outside. They were groaning under the weight of all the food Molly had prepared. The only thing missing was Emma herself. "She was here just a minute ago, with Fred and George, Mother," Percy commented, looking around, "She can't have got far."

Percy looked all over the garden, the paddock, and the pond, but she was nowhere to be found. It was getting late, and he was beginning to worry. He took one last look through the house, and at last he found her. She was sitting in Arthur's chair in the sitting room, curled up in a ball, crying her eyes out. Percy strode across the room and was on his knees with his arms around her in an instant. "Poppet, whatever is wrong?" he asked, astonished.

Emma threw her arms around her father's neck and sobbed onto his shoulder. "Daddy, please don't make me go to Hogwarts. I just can't do it. Please say I can stay home!"

Percy was alarmed. He knew Emma was very nervous about this big change, but she was also excited and looking forward to it. Why was she suddenly so terrified? "Why, love?" he asked, brushing her brown hair back off her face. "You're more than ready, I think."

The hysterical child was shaking from head to toe, and her voice became very shrill. "I don't know how to fight a troll," she sniffled through her tears, "and I'll get hurt and they'll tell me I'm not good enough and send me home and you and Mummy will be ashamed of me and--" She hiccupped to a stop and buried her face into his robes and wept out her utter anguish.

"Emma, who in the world said you had to fight a troll?" he asked soothingly, "That's just ridiculous!"

"Un--cle Fre--d an-d Un--cle Geor--ge," she stuttered, still trembling.

"Damn," Percy muttered under his breath. He scooped up his little girl and said firmly, "Come on, love. We're taking care of this nonsense once and for all." He carried Emma back out to the kitchen, where Fred and George were stacking up plates and things to take outside. They both looked up in alarm at their sobbing niece, and Fred asked, "Merlin's beard, Percy, what have you done to the child?"

"What have I done?" he asked, "I just thought you two idiots might like to see the results of your clever handiwork," Percy spat out with an edge of steel in his voice.

"Our handiwork?" asked George.

"We didn't test any new products on her, Perce, I swear," added Fred.

Percy glared at the twins and set Emma down in a chair at the kitchen table to confront her tormentors. Her sad, little face was a mess of tears and runny nose, and the twins stared at her with bewildered expressions. Percy took out his handkerchief and dried her tears, then held the cloth up to her messy nose and said gently, "Blow." Emma blew wetly into Percy's handkerchief, and he finished mopping her up.

Then he turned on his younger brothers and explained pointedly, "I'm talking about that stupid troll business, you prats."

"That was a joke, Perce!" George exclaimed.

"She took us seriously?" Fred asked, astonished, "We didn't think--

"Exactly!" Percy shouted, and he slammed his hand down on the table. "You never think. Now tell her the truth!"

Fred and George did feel badly, and they looked at their niece with sheepish expressions. Fred got down on his knees and took both her hands in his. "Emma," he said, "we were joking. You don't really have to fight a troll."

"Nope," added George, "it's just the old Sorting Hat. You put it on and it tells you what house you're in. Then they feed you rather a lot of food, and after that, some swotty little nancy-boy prefect shows you to your dormitory."

Emma wasn't ready to trust them yet, so she looked up at her father for confirmation. He was looking at the twins with narrowed eyes, but he nodded to her. She took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded back.

George looked up at Percy and said, "Perce, we never imagined she'd take it so literally, really. Dad's always saying she's just like you, but Merlin!" He just shook his head. "How old were you when you quit taking everything we said so seriously?"

Percy raised one eyebrow, "I still do. I just eventually decided to assume that everything that comes out of your mouths is a load of crap. That seems to work fairly well. And don't ever try to pull anything like that on one of my children again, do you understand me?"

"Pull what?" Arthur asked as he entered the kitchen to see what the delay was. "What's going on in here?"

"Erm," said Fred, "we, well, kind of, hinted to Emma, here, that house sorting happens--"

"By the trial by troll method," finished George.

"Boys, you didn't!" Arthur turned on them and raised his voice, "What a colossally stupid thing to do!"

Fred and George both knew that you just didn't mess with Papa's babies, and they capitulated. "So we've come to realize in the wisdom of our years," Fred admitted.

George also confessed, "We've seen the error of our ways, Dad. It was either that, or Percy would kill us very dead. Really."

"But you know how literally she takes everything. You've probably scared her to death," Arthur continued, not quite willing to let them off the hook so easily. He looked over at his granddaughter with a concerned look.

"It's all right, Papa. I understand," Emma said quietly. "They lied to me."

"Emma!" exclaimed Fred and George. Percy and Arthur exchanged amused glances that said they had a better idea of what was coming than the twins ever did.

"It wasn't lie, sweetheart," George explained quickly.

"It was a joke!" added Fred.

"Was it the truth?" Emma asked solemnly.

"Erm, no, but--"

"Emma, it was a joke. You know, a joke." Fred looked up at Percy with an imploring look. Percy just smirked.

Emma thought about that for a minute, nodded, then asked, "But you didn't tell me the truth, and you did mean to trick me, right?"

"Yeah, but--" tried Fred.

"Not trick, trick. Just, you know . . . trick," George added unhelpfully.

Emma just looked back and forth at them over her glasses, then asked, "Why would you try to scare me?"

"We didn't!" they chorused.

"But you did, and it wasn't true. You scared me for no reason."

Both of her uncles were starting splutter and look rather ashamed. "It was supposed to be funny, Emma!" Fred explained.

"Why?" Emma asked.

"Just to play a . . . joke," George trailed off, lamely.

"But why is it funny to do that?" Emma insisted. Percy and Arthur snorted with laughter and looked at the twins as if very interested themselves in their answer to that all-important question.

Fred and George just looked at each other and shrugged. Then they examined Emma's serious face and burst out laughing.

"It really isn't funny, is it?" Fred asked. Emma shook her head.

"Emma, we're sorry. It was a mean joke to play on you, and we won't ever do it again," George promised. He looked up at Percy, then back at Emma, and shook his head as if finding them too funny for words. Percy stood over Emma with his arms crossed, thoroughly enjoying the sight of his daughter, innocent and utterly forthright, giving the twins the comeuppance he'd been wanting to dish out for years.

"So now you really and truly know how the first night at school will go. Perfectly safe, I might add, so--" George said.

Fred finished, "Any other questions for your worldly-wise favorite uncles?"

Emma nodded. "I have one more question. What's a swotty little nancy-boy?"

At that, Fred, George, and Arthur all three grabbed the plates and utensils and headed for the back door. Fred called back over his shoulder, "Definitely a question for old Dad, Emma."

Emma looked up at her father expectantly. Percy just covered with his eyes with his hand and, once again, vowed revenge on the twins.