Chapter 469: What Dragon? I Have No Idea!
Mr. Weasley decided against joining the commotion near the Dark Mark and instead led everyone back to their original tent. Luckily, since it was located at the camp's edge, it had remained untouched by the rioting crowd and was still intact.
As they approached, Percy nervously poked his head out of the tent. When he saw Mr. Weasley, he relaxed somewhat, though he was clutching his arm with a sheet that was slowly soaking with blood—he looked as though he'd been seriously injured.
"Where were you?" Mr. Weasley hurried over to him, concern etched on his face. "How's your arm? Is it bad?"
"It's nothing," Percy replied, his face contorted with pain but still sporting a look of satisfaction. "Mr. Crouch saw me get it... my heroic stand against that dark wizard."
"Right, right..." Charlie muttered, giving Percy a sharp look. "Maybe tomorrow he'll promote you to Deputy Head of International Magical Cooperation—the heroic Percy Weasley."
There was an edge to Charlie's voice that he couldn't hide. Only a short while ago, they'd been ambushed by the Malfoys and barely escaped. If Kyle hadn't shown up when he did, there was no telling what would have happened to them. They might have survived, but they'd certainly have been tortured by the Cruciatus Curse.
Even Kyle, upon sensing the danger Mr. Weasley was in, had come to help. But Percy? He'd been busy impressing Crouch with his supposed bravery. If they hadn't had other witnesses around, Charlie would've been sorely tempted to take a swing at him.
Beside him, Bill's expression mirrored his own displeasure.
Unfazed by the tension around him, Percy continued, still gloating. "You're just joking around, that's not possible." He didn't seem to notice Charlie's sarcasm, nor did he care that Fred and George had been mispronouncing his name in jest for days. He was so accustomed to it by now. "I just hope Mr. Crouch will assign me some more challenging work after this... This was almost too easy."