Of strawberry blonde hair and in-trays
Percy first met her on the twelfth of August, 1995. He was fuming internally, trying to forget the encounter with his father outside Harry potter's hearing, the memory of whom he had sworn to erase entirely until his family apologised for what they had done. He had little patience with an obviously lost young girl, perhaps a year younger than him, who was standing outside the lift as he exited it.
"Excuse me," she said breathlessly, touching him lightly on the arm to get his attention. "Which way is it to the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office?"
He froze. Forget it, forget him, forget them all- the mantra that he had been repeating to himself echoed around his head for a moment. "Second floor," he snapped, shaking her off and gesturing sharply over his shoulder at the lift. By the time he had reached his office he had already forgotten her in his efforts to divert his thoughts away from his father. His favourite tactic for this was to concentrate on the state of his in-tray.
The second time he met her was the very next day. She was hovering outside the office next to the one he shared with Cornelius Fudge, bright strawberry blonde hair tied up neatly, looking awkward. He apologised, feeling somewhat ashamed of his behaviour of the day before, and introduced himself. He was Percy Weasley, personal assistant to the minister for magic. She was Audrey Price, junior undersecretary to Kingsley Shacklebolt.
When it became clear that she had turned up early for work, to make up for the fact that she had been late for her first day of work (the day before) and so found herself locked out of the office with nowhere to go, he somewhat reluctantly invited her into his office for a cup of tea. She chattered ceaselessly, telling him all about what it was like working at the ministry (as if he didn't already know), how she was a muggleborn, so she never expected to get a job in such a high place in wizarding society after all the prejudice she had faced from the slytherins at Hogwarts (his ex-girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater had been a muggleborn, and she had been attacked by Slytherin's monster- if that wasn't prejudice he didn't know what was) and how important she felt helping to catch the notorious Sirius Black (he was assistant to the bloody Minister for magic. Point made.) She irritated him slightly, and he found himself wishing he could go through his in-tray.
The third time he met her was the day after that, when she popped into the office at about nine thirty with a readymade cup of tea to "return the favour". He asked her why she had been looking for the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.
"Mr Shacklebolt sent me," she replied, slightly surprised. "He wanted me to give a letter to Arthur Weasley that he had received from an informer about the hunt. Apparently, there's been another sighting in Tibet, and he thought this Arthur Weasley would be interested. Any relation of yours?"
So Percy told her about his Father's betrayal, his lack of support, and his "tendency to keep undesirable company" said Percy pompously.
"What sort of company?"
"Oh, werewolves, giants, people like that," he said wildly. He was exaggerating and he knew it, but he wasn't going to give any more details to this girl. His fury with his father was an ever-growing passion, but he didn't actually want him to lose his job. After all, there was still a chance he might see the light.
Percy's in-tray lay forgotten that day.
The fourth, fifth, sixth and many following times all merged into one. She always seemed to be there; laughing at everything; flicking her bright strawberry blonde hair out of her face; agonising over her many boyfriends; teasing Percy about his secluded life.
"I like my privacy."
"You're a workaholic, that's what you are. Do you have any sort of social life at all?"
When he was with her, he didn't need the distraction of his in-tray. She was a distraction enough in herself. Several time she accidently set the curtains on fire with a particularly forceful gesticulation, her wand shooting sparks at the long, velvet drapes.
It was perhaps the seventy fifth, or maybe the seventy sixth time he met her, some months after that first time, that they had their first argument. He had always thought her far too sunny natured to argue with anyone. He was wrong.
"Don't you see how ridiculous this all is? The Daily Prophet is printing lies, pure lies. I'm almost certain that Harry Potter is telling the truth- the evidence is all around us! What happened to Cedric Diggory, eh? You wouldn't know; you weren't there. But I was. I saw Harry Potter come back from wherever he'd been- I was watching from the stands. Maybe your father's got it right, Percy!"
Percy couldn't forgive her for that.
For a long time his in-tray was almost constantly being sorted- he needed the distraction. His hands were covered in paper cuts.
Whenever they saw each other after that, (it wasn't often) they would either ignore each other or end up screaming at each other. In one such shouting match (conducted during their lunch break a long way from the ministry to be on the safe side -Audrey had grabbed him and apparated to a field near her house as soon as the argument got into dangerous waters) Percy cried in frustration,
"Who have you been talking too? Where are you getting all this rubbish?"
"I have my sources," she replied disdainfully, apparating back to the Ministry before he could demand a better answer, leaving him fuming in the middle of the cows.
In another, it emerged (by some slip of Audrey's) that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been talking to her, trying to convince her.
"I'll tell Fudge about both of you!" he threatened.
"You won't. If you do I'll tell him about your father, and how I heard about it from you. Then he'll be arrested, and you'll lose your job."
She knows you too well, he thought furiously, as he sorted through his in-tray roughly. He swore as he accidently ripped a sheet of parchment almost in two.
When Shacklebolt was moved to the Muggle government to protect the Prime Minister, and Audrey went to work elsewhere in the Ministry, Percy tried to forget about her. But for the first time his in-tray failed him. He tried to "get a social life" as she had suggested long ago. He tried all night drinking, picking up girls from the pub and riding a muggle motorbike. Nothing stopped him dwelling on her, wishing she hadn't been so stupid. And wishing... something else, perhaps? No, he wasn't thinking about her, he reminded himself. Think of your in-tray, he thought. God, he hated that thing.
For almost two years he barely saw her at all; if he noticed her bright strawberry blonde hair around the ministry, he would look away and pretend she wasn't there. Not out of disgust, as he had ignored his father, but out of fear that he might give in and run to her to ask for forgiveness, anything for them to be friends again. So he always missed the look of terrible sadness and longing that passed over her face every time she saw him.
He tried to ignore the slowly dawning realisation that she had been right, that his father had been right, that the death Eaters were taking over the Ministry. But he couldn't; he knew it was true. He wanted to tell her, but he had no idea where she worked, and he never saw her around anymore. He couldn't ask anyone because he had to pretend to hate muggleborns, and believe them to be filth.
He just wanted to see Audrey again.
When Pius Thickness informed him, in the dull, monotone voice that Percy had become accustomed to, that the muggleborns were being rounded up in the ministry and taken to their trials, she was the first person he thought of. Making up some excuse about needing the toilet, he hurried down to the courtrooms under cover of a disillusionment charm.
But he was too late; there was already a full scale panic going on, with a tall looking death eater Percy knew as Runcorn herding muggleborns in front of him, to who knows what fate. He caught sight of Audrey, her bright hair a mess. He struggled towards her, hollering her name, but when she looked round, she couldn't see him or course. By the time he had removed the disillusionment charm she had been swept away on a tide of frightened people.
He heard later that a whole group of muggleborns had escaped because of an imposter, posing as Runcorn. The imposter had escaped.
He hoped Audrey had escaped as well.
When he heard that the battle had started at Hogwarts, he lost no time in rushing to join the fray.
When Fred died, just minutes after they had been re-united, he felt like he wanted to die as well.
Even though the battle was won, he felt as though it had been lost.
Some time after the funeral, he went to George and offered his services at the joke shop.
"I know I could never replace Fred," he said seriously. "But I've lost all my ambitions now; well" he smiled slightly "apart from one. I just want to help you. But if you accept, I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise me I won't have an in-tray."
George accepted, and didn't question this slightly bizarre request.
Percy had long ago lost count of how many times he'd seen her. But the first time he saw her after the time at the ministry was at Fred's funeral. She was wearing black, her bright strawberry blonde hair spilling down her back like the tears spilling down her face. He didn't even know she knew Fred. But of course, everyone knew Fred and George.
They didn't talk much that time they met. The clung to each other and cried, but they didn't talk.
Percy and Audrey's was a rocky relationship. There was a lot of arguing and on-and-off sulking for a few years, but Percy had learned his lesson. Even when she was being completely unreasonable, even when she brought up the "remember the ministry? I was right then, wasn't I?" tactic, he would soon come to his senses and apologise for arguing, for living, for breathing, anything to calm her. And so, when he knelt in front of her five years later, the two thousand five hundred and second time he had met her (although he had long since stopped counting) with a ring in his hand and a tremor in his voice, she accepted.
They were married in six months.
"Weasleys don't tend to have girls," he told her. "My sister Ginevra was the first female Weasley in several generations."
"It's a girl," she insisted. "I know it is."
She was right. Seven months later Molly Weasley was born.
When Audrey got pregnant again, he didn't even bother to argue. Instead, he suggested the name Lucy.
Lucy was crying, Molly was whining, and Audrey was close to snapping with exhaustion and frustration.
At least, he thought, taking baby Lucy from her mother's arms and rocking her gently, at least I don't have an in-tray.