All Hail Mr. Crouch

by She's a Star

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. :-)

Author's Note: Odd little story I came up with...sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing. This takes place a few weeks before Harry comes to stay with the Weasleys in Goblet of Fire.

* * *

"And Mr. Crouch said that it was, get this Penny, an excellent report! Those are his exact words. Didn't change a thing. I only hope that my new report on cauldron bottoms is as successful as the one on racing broom twigs. I think it's safe to say that I've made a bit of a name for myself at the Ministry!"

Penelope Clearwater forced a weak smile and replied dully, "That's great, Perce."

He beamed widely, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. "Isn't it? You know, Mr. Crouch firmly believes that if there were more determined workers at the Ministry more interested in the classic ideas of running the magical world rather than all this frivolity about the Quidditch World Cup and such, it could return to a greatness it hasn't possessed in fifty years. Fifty years, Penny!"

"Mmm," she responded weakly. She silently debated over whether she'd rather yawn or scream in frustration. Both sounded very appealing, and of course, both would probably drive Percy insane.

But, oh, he definitely deserved some insanity at the moment. He was driving her positively bonkers.

No one else was home at The Burrow - Fred, George, Ron, Bill, Charlie, and Ginny had gone down to the vacant field near their house to play Quidditch, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone out for lunch.

She and Percy were very much alone for the whole afternoon. They could do anything that they wanted.

So naturally, they were talking about the world's most boring inhabitant.

Groaning inwardly, she pretended to listen as Percy rambled on and on about Mr. Crouch, sounding completely fascinated even though he'd repeated it about five times throughout the course of their treacherous conversation.

"And according to Mr. Crouch-"

"Percy," Penelope cut in, much more sharply than she'd meant to.

He looked at her in surprise. "Yes?"

"Do you want to talk about something else?" she asked delicately.

Utterly bewildered, he asked, "Why?"

With a very strained smile, she replied. "Well, it's just that we've been talking about Mr. Crouch for nearly an hour and a half now, and although he's a fascinating man-" CoughYeahRightCough, "-there are some other things that I'd like to talk to you about."

Percy looked a bit annoyed now. "Really, Penny, is there anything more important?"

Penelope narrowed her eyes dangerously at him, but it was to no avail. He just stared at her expectantly.

Aaauuurrrrggghhhh.

"What about us, Percy?" she asked, leaning across the table and placing one hand on his. "I haven't seen you in ages since you started working at the Ministry."

"Well, my work is very important, Penny, I thought you understood that-"

"What's more important?" Penelope asked quizzically, now dangerously annoyed. "Me or Mr. Crouch?"

Percy studied her for a moment as though debating his answer before replying, quite seriously, "Penny, I think we can both agree that Mr. Crouch is a very important addition to the wizarding world."

She felt her mouth drop open as she stared at him in disbelief.

"You're not serious?" she demanded.

Percy now looked very confused indeed. "Haven't you been listening for the past hour? I've clearly stated all of Mr. Crouch's contributions and achievements at the Ministry and in our world-"

Okay.

That was going too far.

"You are the most stupid, clueless, pathetic excuse for a boyfriend in the history of mankind!" she shrieked, pulling her hand away from his and standing up so suddenly that her chair went crashing to the floor.

"Now, now, Penny," he chided. "It's a bit obvious that you're getting jealous of my relationship with a very prominent member of the Ministry-"

"Relationship, huh?" she snapped. "Are you sure? Tell me this, Perce, does the legendary, life-changing Mr. Crouch return your fiery ardor, or are you just the obsessive stalker type with pictures of him charmed onto your pillowcase?!"

He blinked.

"Do you remember who asked me to the Seventh Years' Ball last year, Percy?" she asked, glaring daggers at him.

"Oliver Wood," Percy said weakly.

Penelope nodded and gave him a deadly smile. "Yes, that's right, Oliver Wood. He's quite good-looking, Oliver Wood. No girl in her right mind would turn down an invitation from him. And do you know who did?"

"You," said Percy meekly.

"And do you know why I did this, Percy?" she continued, tone splashed with malice.

"...Because you were going with me?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

"Yes, that's right," Penelope gave him an approving smile. "You know, I may call up dear old Oliver any day now, since he doesn't seem to be romantically entangled with his two hundred and fifty year old boss."

"Mr. Crouch is only seventy-two!" Percy snapped defensively. "And I do hope you aren't insinuating that my feelings for Mr. Crouch aren't strictly platonic!"

"What else am I supposed to think?" she demanded angrily. "The first thing you said to me when I got here was, 'You look lovely, Penny. Mr. Crouch was considering a tie that shade of blue to wear to the Quidditch Cup.'?!?!"

"You're just as bad as Fred and George!" cried Percy.

"You're worse than Gilderoy Lockhart looking at his reflection!" Penelope screeched. Adapting a foolishly simpering tone, she clasped her hands on her heart and dramatically proclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Crouch, you're such a genius! Oh, Mr. Crouch, no one can pull off a navy blue tie the way you can! Oh, Mr. Crouch, can I please do a report on cauldron bottoms? Oh, Mr. Crouch, you're fluent in over one million bazillion cajillion languages! Oh, Mr. Crouch, can I lick your shoes? Oh, Mr. Crouch, you're my idol! Oh, Mr. Crouch, you're looking very sexy in those robes today! Oh, Mr. Crouch, can I play with your mustache?"

"Er...Penny?"

She ignored him. "Oh, Mr. Crouch, I can't pretend anymore! Oh, Mr. Crouch, I love you! Oh, Mr. Crouch, shall we elope next Tuesday or will that be inconvenient for your work at the Ministry, because we all know you're so important. Oh, Mr. Crouch-"

"I hope you won't be offended if I don't take your heartfelt sentiments to heart, Miss," a brisk voice from behind her announced.

She felt a sense of dread wash over her. Surely it couldn't be...

"Mr. Crouch!" Percy said eagerly, rising at once, crossing around the table, and holding out his hand. Penelope winced.

Oh dear.

"Yes, hello, Weatherby," Mr. Crouch said distractedly. "I was wondering if Arthur was at home? I wanted to have a word with him about the Quidditch World Cup security."

"No, he's not here at the moment," Percy said, voice sickeningly obsequious. "He went out with my mother. Would you like a cup of tea, Mr. Crouch?"

"No, no," Mr. Crouch said. "I'd best be on my way."

Penelope stared firmly down at the table. Good, he was leaving. The humiliation hadn't been entirely horrible-

"Oh, and Weatherby?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Who is this....interesting young lady?" Mr. Crouch asked.

Gulp.

"This is my girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater," Percy said, shooting a rather mischievous look at her.

Very slowly, her cheeks burning, Penelope turned around and forced a pitiful smile at Mr. Crouch, who studied her with obvious distaste.

"....Charmed, Miss Clearwater," he said tersely before Apparating away with a small pop!

No sooner had he disappeared than Percy burst into laughter.

"It's not funny, Weatherby," Penelope snapped.

Percy nodded weakly through his fit of mirth. "Yes...it...was..."

Penelope fixed him with a withering glare that killed his laughter rather quickly.

"All right, all right, I'm sorry," he said. "But you have to admit that you did rather deserve it."

"Why?" Penelope demanded. "For not being absolutely enthralled with the great Mr. Crouch, like every other sane human being on the planet??"

"Are you questioning my sanity?" Percy asked, putting on the facade of one who had been highly affronted.

"Of course, Weatherby."

"Stop calling me that," he said irritably.

"But it fits you so well, Weatherby," she persisted with a sly smile. "I'm surprised that you aren't positively glowing. It's what Mr. Crouch calls you after all, isn't it?"

"Mr. Crouch is a very busy man," Percy said in a somewhat strained voice. "You can't expect him to remember the names of every one of his workers. It's simply impossible. So if you'd just stop your infernal teasing-"

"No, no, no," Penelope said, lazily wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I think it's a positively darling nickname."

"You're completely insufferable."

"Thanks," she said, then pecked him quickly on the lips. "Now, Mr. Weatherby, I'm stuck with you for the rest of the afternoon. What ever am I going to do with you?"

Percy grinned in a rather devious manner that was not unlike the smile often sported by Fred and George.

"We could talk about Mr. Crouch," he suggested slyly.

She pulled away from him at once.

"Kidding! Kidding!" he said abruptly.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Pretty sure."

"No, I'm serious," she said earnestly. "Do you really think that you can take it? Because not talking about Mr. Crouch for one whole afternoons seems quite the terrifying prospect, no? I mean, I get the shivers just thinking about it."

He wrinkled his nose at her. "You're very funny."

"Just making sure," she said with a saccharine smile. "So, can you handle it?"

He nodded. "I think I can handle it."
"Good."