Okay, we'll whack in a disclaimer here, just for the sheer giddy thrill. I own none of this, except of course in my own head, where I own Percy and treat a him a damn sight better than Joanne Rowling! Rarr.
Whatever happened to Penelope Clearwater anyway? I think a lot of Percy fans would like to know the answer to that...
-----
The whispering started as he came down to breakfast, he knew it would. He walked the length of the Gryffindor house table, eyes forward, head high, pointedly not looking at the Ravenclaw table. It was them, that group. Pen...her friends.
"Look at him, he doesn't even care..."
"...and he's the one that found her, you know..."
"Not a flicker..."
"Even Stephanie was in tears over it, and you know she..."
He stared ahead as he sat down. What did he care what they thought? They were wrong.
That night had to go down as one of the worst in living memory for Percy, and it felt all the worse because it had started out so good...
He pulled the porridge bowl closer, ladling himself a bowlful without once focussing on ladle or bowl.
Penny was always just a little reckless, especially for a prefect. And, God, it had felt good to be led astray just once...
That wouldn't happen again. He spooned in his porridge. The whispers continued.
Empty classrooms...they were always a temptation for Penny. She'd pulled him inside, giggling, looking around. She'd shut the door, sat him on a desk, taken off his glasses...
"Penny...we might be found!"
"We might not."
"If we were seen...prefects...breaking the rules..." Half hearted now.
A soft laugh. "Percy, dearest, for once in your life, please forget the rules. We're allowed a bit of fun, aren't we? Come on, even you can't argue with that!"
And this had all been so new for Percy Weasley, a new ecstasy, Penny wanted him, he thought, she actually wanted to be alone with him, to touch his hair, to kiss him here in the shadowy classroom. His control had slipped.
In lesser hands his spoon would have been trembling by now, but no. Not so. Steady hands, steady mind. Old habits hard learned are slow to die.
Then...goodness only knew what she thought she was doing, but with a whisper of "I'll be back, wait right here, just as you are..." she had disappeared in the direction he now knew to be the library.
His porridge was nearly done. Time for toast... He thought blankly and started to butter some, still wrapped in memory.
He had sat in the classroom for close to twenty minutes, until the paranoia and embarrassment got too much. She had run away, oh God, it was bound to happen, the whole thing had most likely been some elaborate joke, maybe the twins were involved, probably they were watching right now...
Get a grip, Weasley, he had thought. You know Penelope better than that. But the uncertainty was there...
When the bell rang and a gaggle of first years began to file chattering into the room he'd felt he had to leave. He wondered disconsolately in the direction Penny had gone. This end of the corridor seemed deserted enough, it was only the library along here anyway...
His throat was suddenly tight, his eyes prickled, the toast was having problems going down, but he swallowed, and no tears came.
As he had rounded the corner...what he had seen had made his throat close up then, too, and drained all the colour from his face.
"Penny? Penny?! Oh my god..."
He had gone to her, but she was frozen, stiff and solid. That other girl, Ron's friend, she was there too... His first instinct of course was to run, to scream, to yell and cry for help, but of course he was Percy Weasley and he was a prefect and prefects did not act like that.
And so, calmly he had cast about for the nearest student, informed them of the situation, sent them to the hospital wing, all the while feeling sick with worry and fear. Would she be alright? Would she ever smile at him again, would she ever take off his glasses and tell him to forget the rules and kiss him so that he all but did forget the rules and even who and what he was...
But he was who he was, and that meant control.
He was finished with his toast, he got up to leave. He would have liked to visit the hospital wing, but prefects had duties and couldn't afford such dalliances. The last of his memory was still playing itself out in his head, ready to recycle back to the beginning to torture him all over again.
He had escorted the victims (even now he was find it hard not to think of them as bodies) to the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey, and then gone back to the Gryffindor comon room. She had asked him, What was he to the afflicted?
"Oh, Granger's my brother's friend...and Clearwater...is my friend." he had said rather weakly. She had looked at him askance even for that, his total lack of emotion. But what else could he do? It was not for a member of staff to see him weep, to see him discomposed and shaken at her bedside. He was vaguely aware that another might feel differently, but he was not another, what was there to do but leave? So he had left.
As he made his way through the great hall, his fast broken, past the whisperers ("Penny could do better than him, I'm going to tell her so when she wakes up...") he took comfort in his iron self control. Perhaps, back in his dormitory, in bed with the drapes shut he could release his silent, private tears, but not here.
Professor McGonagle was approaching with Professor Flitwick in tow. She beckoned him aside.
"Percy Weasley, just the person I was looking for."
"Yes, Professor?"
"Professor Sprout's mandrake juice was applied to great effect last night, and among those revived was a certain Miss Clearwater, a student of Professor Flitwick's house."
Flitwick nodded. "She slept for some time after she was revived" he said "And the first person she asked for when she woke up this morning was, well, you Weasley."
Percy's heart leapt, but none of it showed.
"Ah, I'll go directly then, shall I?"
He left.
Up in the hospital wing waited a sort of happiness. Sometimes it was alright to know happiness wouldn't last forever, and it was enough just to be yourself, as hard as you could, with someone you could be yourself with.
Whatever happened to Penelope Clearwater anyway? I think a lot of Percy fans would like to know the answer to that...
-----
The whispering started as he came down to breakfast, he knew it would. He walked the length of the Gryffindor house table, eyes forward, head high, pointedly not looking at the Ravenclaw table. It was them, that group. Pen...her friends.
"Look at him, he doesn't even care..."
"...and he's the one that found her, you know..."
"Not a flicker..."
"Even Stephanie was in tears over it, and you know she..."
He stared ahead as he sat down. What did he care what they thought? They were wrong.
That night had to go down as one of the worst in living memory for Percy, and it felt all the worse because it had started out so good...
He pulled the porridge bowl closer, ladling himself a bowlful without once focussing on ladle or bowl.
Penny was always just a little reckless, especially for a prefect. And, God, it had felt good to be led astray just once...
That wouldn't happen again. He spooned in his porridge. The whispers continued.
Empty classrooms...they were always a temptation for Penny. She'd pulled him inside, giggling, looking around. She'd shut the door, sat him on a desk, taken off his glasses...
"Penny...we might be found!"
"We might not."
"If we were seen...prefects...breaking the rules..." Half hearted now.
A soft laugh. "Percy, dearest, for once in your life, please forget the rules. We're allowed a bit of fun, aren't we? Come on, even you can't argue with that!"
And this had all been so new for Percy Weasley, a new ecstasy, Penny wanted him, he thought, she actually wanted to be alone with him, to touch his hair, to kiss him here in the shadowy classroom. His control had slipped.
In lesser hands his spoon would have been trembling by now, but no. Not so. Steady hands, steady mind. Old habits hard learned are slow to die.
Then...goodness only knew what she thought she was doing, but with a whisper of "I'll be back, wait right here, just as you are..." she had disappeared in the direction he now knew to be the library.
His porridge was nearly done. Time for toast... He thought blankly and started to butter some, still wrapped in memory.
He had sat in the classroom for close to twenty minutes, until the paranoia and embarrassment got too much. She had run away, oh God, it was bound to happen, the whole thing had most likely been some elaborate joke, maybe the twins were involved, probably they were watching right now...
Get a grip, Weasley, he had thought. You know Penelope better than that. But the uncertainty was there...
When the bell rang and a gaggle of first years began to file chattering into the room he'd felt he had to leave. He wondered disconsolately in the direction Penny had gone. This end of the corridor seemed deserted enough, it was only the library along here anyway...
His throat was suddenly tight, his eyes prickled, the toast was having problems going down, but he swallowed, and no tears came.
As he had rounded the corner...what he had seen had made his throat close up then, too, and drained all the colour from his face.
"Penny? Penny?! Oh my god..."
He had gone to her, but she was frozen, stiff and solid. That other girl, Ron's friend, she was there too... His first instinct of course was to run, to scream, to yell and cry for help, but of course he was Percy Weasley and he was a prefect and prefects did not act like that.
And so, calmly he had cast about for the nearest student, informed them of the situation, sent them to the hospital wing, all the while feeling sick with worry and fear. Would she be alright? Would she ever smile at him again, would she ever take off his glasses and tell him to forget the rules and kiss him so that he all but did forget the rules and even who and what he was...
But he was who he was, and that meant control.
He was finished with his toast, he got up to leave. He would have liked to visit the hospital wing, but prefects had duties and couldn't afford such dalliances. The last of his memory was still playing itself out in his head, ready to recycle back to the beginning to torture him all over again.
He had escorted the victims (even now he was find it hard not to think of them as bodies) to the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey, and then gone back to the Gryffindor comon room. She had asked him, What was he to the afflicted?
"Oh, Granger's my brother's friend...and Clearwater...is my friend." he had said rather weakly. She had looked at him askance even for that, his total lack of emotion. But what else could he do? It was not for a member of staff to see him weep, to see him discomposed and shaken at her bedside. He was vaguely aware that another might feel differently, but he was not another, what was there to do but leave? So he had left.
As he made his way through the great hall, his fast broken, past the whisperers ("Penny could do better than him, I'm going to tell her so when she wakes up...") he took comfort in his iron self control. Perhaps, back in his dormitory, in bed with the drapes shut he could release his silent, private tears, but not here.
Professor McGonagle was approaching with Professor Flitwick in tow. She beckoned him aside.
"Percy Weasley, just the person I was looking for."
"Yes, Professor?"
"Professor Sprout's mandrake juice was applied to great effect last night, and among those revived was a certain Miss Clearwater, a student of Professor Flitwick's house."
Flitwick nodded. "She slept for some time after she was revived" he said "And the first person she asked for when she woke up this morning was, well, you Weasley."
Percy's heart leapt, but none of it showed.
"Ah, I'll go directly then, shall I?"
He left.
Up in the hospital wing waited a sort of happiness. Sometimes it was alright to know happiness wouldn't last forever, and it was enough just to be yourself, as hard as you could, with someone you could be yourself with.