"Is this the photograph you had taken last month?" Percy picked it up, studying the figures closely.
"Of course." His mother nodded from where she was stirring something on the stove. "I think it came out rather well."
Indeed, the frame was crammed with red-haired Weasleys, plus a few others. When Molly and Arthur had decided to have a party to celebrate both their thirtieth wedding anniversary and the ending of the war, they had taken the opportunity to have a portrait made and included several who were not actually Weasleys but whom they considered "practically family," such as Remus Lupin.
And Harry Potter. It was Harry at whom Percy was looking now, remembering that day.
"Closer together!"
The photographer, whom Percy vaguely recalled as having been a second-year Gryffindor during Percy's time as Head Boy, waved at them all. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, look at each other. Children, you should be grouped around them. Those of you who are tallest, in the back! You in the middle, bend your knees a bit. Grandchildren at the front, stand up straight, please. Put your arms 'round each other, one big happy family, right?"
Dutifully everyone shuffled around, trying to make sure that they would be visible to the camera.
"No silly faces!"
That had to be Fred or George making faces, Percy thought. Or both of them. He couldn't tell; they were on the opposite side of the group, in the middle row. Percy stood at the end of the back row, which seemed appropriate. In front of him Harry bent a little awkwardly, trying to obey Creevey's instructions.
"All right there?" Percy put a hand on Harry's shoulder. Warmth seemed to flow through him at the touch, and he fought down the urge to caress the bare skin of Harry's neck. He must be mad, thinking things like that at his own parents' anniversary party, and of someone who had dated his sister for ages. Harry would probably be too polite to make a fuss, but grabbing a feel from someone who was doubtless straight... no.
"Yes, I'm fine."
Harry turned his head as if he were about to say more, but just then the photographer shouted, "Okay, now smile and say 'Augurey'!" and Harry turned back to the camera.
As soon as the pictures were taken, Ron had pulled Harry over to the tables laden with food, and Percy had had no chance to say anything more to him. Instead he had wandered about, making somewhat stilted conversation with his family, who hadn't yet all forgiven him for the necessary deception he'd practiced, being so deeply undercover for the Order. His mother and father, yes, but Ron in particular still harbored a bit of a grudge.
Looking at the photograph now, though, Percy was less sure than he had been that Harry was as straight as he'd assumed. Wasn't that a knowing wink he was giving Percy as he turned his head? And wasn't Harry's hand moving up as if to touch Percy's hand on his shoulder? Percy swallowed.
"How is everyone?" he asked his mother, as casually as he could manage, and listened to her good-natured gossip, though the only bit that caught his interest was when she bemoaned the fact that since Harry and Ginny had broken up a year ago, poor Harry didn't seem to be able to find anyone.
"I did think he and Ginny... but perhaps it's for the best, she seems to be very happy with Theodore these days," Molly said, pouring tea and sitting down. "Can you stay for dinner, Percy dear?"
Percy would have liked to go back to his flat and ponder what he thought he saw in the photograph, but he could hardly say no, not when he was still trying to get back his family's ungrudging good will.
Later that night, however, he did think about it, at some length, and finally decided to owl Harry and ask him out for a drink after work, later in the week. Harry's acceptance – I'd love to see you more – gave Percy hope that he'd been right.