for cel, for the drabble tag
word count: 553 by google docs
Percy had a different way of grieving than the rest of his family; while they embraced the sadness, he shut it out and tried to live his life normally while the pain ate away inside of him. He had stopped sleeping, too scared of the dark and what might be lurking in it. He instead sat on his bed upright, clutching his wand and, for the first time, appreciating how crowded the Burrow was. He could use someone else in his small flat to help him through the night.
The next morning, he didn't have work; the Ministry was closed, for obvious reason. It wasn't required to go in, but everyone was helping clean up Hogwarts. Percy didn't have the stomach to face it again, so soon.
He was restless, though, just standing around his flat, trying to push down his grief, so he decided to go out into Muggle London and get a cup of coffee; he'd need the caffeine to stay awake. He got to the Starbucks, ordered a venti brewed coffee and made to pull out his Muggle money when he remembered—he hadn't really gotten the hang of Muggle money yet. He kept on meaning to look it up on the internet (a tool he had gotten the hang of), but then the war happened, and then his brother died.
He stood there, pound coins in hand, and he felt close to tears. Looking at the money reminded him of the war and the war reminded him of Fred.
"Sir?" the barista asked, looking at Percy, concerned.
"I'm sorry, I don't know how to—"
"Do you need help?" someone asked from behind them. Percy turned, and a girl was standing next to him. She had deep auburn hair, a fairy-like face, and she was short, probably shorter than Ron.
"Yeah," Percy said, lifting up the hand of pound coins.
"Not from here, are you?" she asked as she carefully counted up the price for the coffee.
"No," he answered on a whim. He wasn't completely lying; he wasn't from London, but he got these sense that the girl was thinking more out of the country.
"Where are you from, then?" The girl handed Percy his extra money and smiled. "I'm Audrey, by the way." She stuck out a hand, still smiling.
"South Africa," he said automatically, saying the first country that came into his head. He gripped her hand and shook it slowly, being polite.
"Oh. You don't sound like you're from there."
Percy shrugged in a 'what can you do?' kind of manner and turned as the barista called his name, ready with his coffee.
"NIce meeting you, Audrey. I'd better get going. Thanks for the help," he told Audrey, desperate to leave her and the place. He did appreciate her help, but talking to anyone just hurt him. It was too soon. He wouldn't admit it, but Percy was grieving and he just wanted to go home and be alone.
She looked visibly upset, though, so Percy added, "Maybe we could get a coffee together a different time, though?"
Her lips quirked up. "Sure, why not—" She looked at his cup, reading the name written there. "—Per se?"
Percy cracked a smile for the first time since the battle, since his last laugh with Fred. "Percy, actually."