For the QLFC
Finals, Round 1
Holyhead Harpies, Beater 2
Mandatory: Set your fic in Horizont Alley.
Optional: (word) history, (quote, used as the overall theme of the story) 'At least you get the chance to meet me.' — Pokémon
Note: According to HP Wiki, The Fountain of Fair Fortune is a pub in Horizont Alley, most likely named after the tale.
Beta'd by the lovely Sam and Bex.
Word Count: 1502
Percy isn't surprised to find the Fountain of Fair Fortune all but abandoned. Horizont Alley is just a little too close to Knockturn Alley. With one of the worst wars in history freshly won, no one wants to be so close to an area known for such evil deeds.
He's never been one to drown his sorrows in alcohol, but he doesn't know where else to turn; he only knows he can't be out there anymore. Too many people look at him with pity in their eyes as they tell him how sorry they are about Fred. Even his family can't seem to bring him comfort. Being around them causes his stomach to twist into painful knots as the guilt slowly consumes him. They don't blame him, but they should.
The barmaid offers him a small smile as he takes a seat at the bar. "I was about to close for the night," she tells him, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. "It's been slow. Well, dead might be a more accurate term."
Percy's lips twitch. He considers telling her that it makes sense that no one would want to be so close to Knockturn Alley, given the current atmosphere. For once, though, he keeps his mouth shut. "Can I still get a drink?" he asks.
She purses her lips, seeming to lose herself for a moment as she considers. After what feels like an eternity, she shrugs. "Just one?"
Truthfully, he feels like draining every bottle behind the bar. Numbness sounds like a blessing; Percy doesn't want to feel anything anymore. Still, the logical part of his brain reminds him that alcoholism isn't a healthy coping mechanism. "Just one," he confirms. "Dragon Scale."
"I'll give it to you on the house," she says. "You look like you need something to take the edge of."
Before Percy can respond, the young woman waves her wand. She summons a glass which she quickly fills with rich amber liquid.
"You fought, didn't you?" she asks.
Percy tenses. He takes a sip from the glass before wiping the foam away from his mouth.
"I can see it in your eyes," she adds when several seconds pass in silence. "You have kind eyes, but you look haunted."
"We're all haunted," he mutters, taking a long drink and draining the bitter liquid.
It isn't strong enough, and he's tempted to order another. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of coins.
"On the house," she reminds him, gently pushing his hand away.
"It doesn't feel right."
The barmaid laughs softly and shakes her head. "Gryffindor?" she guesses. "You lot are always so bloody honorable. Can't you just accept a good deed?"
He knows he should, but he can't escape his upbringing. His mother would be disappointed if he didn't pay. "Just take the money, please."
"Tell you what, if you really want to repay me, you can walk me home," she says.
"I can what?"
"The war may be over, but things are still a bit upside down around here," she explains. "I wouldn't mind some company."
Percy stares at her for a moment, taken aback. He clears his throat, adjusting his glasses nervously. He doesn't know why the request has caught him so off guard. It isn't as though she's asked him to do anything strange. "I, um… I guess I could do that," he says. "But you don't even know me. Are you sure—"
"I'm Audrey White," she says simply, offering him her hand with a broad grin.
"Percy Weasley."
"There you go. Now we've met."
He doesn't bother pointing out that it takes more than a name for someone to become more than a stranger. If she feels comfortable enough with the exchange, there's no reason for him to protest.
With a quick flourish of her wand, Audrey sends the stools to rest atop the bar and tables. "Sorry!" she squeals as Percy's is jerked from under him, nearly sending him crashing onto the floor.
"Don't worry. Not the worst thing to happen to me today." He doesn't realize how bitter he sounds until it's too late. He clears his throat and tugs at the collar of his shirt, a burning blush creeping into his cheeks. "I mean—"
"Wars have casualties," she says quickly, sparing him the pain of stammering out a redeeming explanation. "We all lost something. Come on. I want to show you something."
…
Percy doesn't know what he's expecting, but he's surprised when Audrey leads him outside and to the neighboring storefront. "Pilliwinkle's Playthings?" he asks, raising his brows.
He's seen the shop before, but he's never cared much for toys and has never paid it much attention. But there's something in Audrey's smile that makes him curious now. Her green eyes sparkle as she watches the ballerina troll marionettes dance gracefully behind the glass.
"Dance with me." A grin plays at her lips as she drops into a perfect plié.
"I'm not familiar with ballet," he mutters.
Audrey straightens again, offering him her hand. "I know other dances," she says. "Waltz, foxtrot, salsa?"
He clears his throat, smoothing his hands over his shirt as he stares at her. His throat feels strangely tight, and his cheeks burn. "I don't know how to dance," he clarifies
"I can teach you."
Percy glances over his shoulder. The street is empty. There's no one around to watch him stumble and fail, but he still feels frozen in place. "There isn't any music."
Audrey rolls her eyes and gestures around them before tapping her ear gently. Listen, her actions seem to say.
It takes him a moment before he can hear it. A gentle breeze whistles faintly. In the distance, he can hear the low voices and steady bustle from Diagon Alley. Slowly, he understands— the night makes its own sort of music.
Percy hesitates. It seems silly. People don't just start dancing in the middle of the street for no reason. Still, Audrey's thin, delicate hand is strangely tempting. After a moment of consideration, he accepts it.
"Follow my lead," she instructs. "One, two, three. One, two, three…"
His movements feel awkward and clumsy. She leads him with such grace and confidence, and all Percy can do is follow along, muttering apologies under his breath as his feet smash her toes.
"This is why I love to dance," she tells him, as she pulls him closer. "It helps you forget for a moment. You have to focus on yourself, on your body, and you can pretend the world doesn't exist."
Percy closes his eyes, a faint smile on his lips. It's true. For a moment, he forgets that the war ever happened. There is nothing in this world but him and Audrey. It's strange how easy it is to lose himself in the steps.
"Not bad for a beginner," she chuckles as they come to a stop.
His eyes open again, and he realizes that Audrey is just a little too close. Her face is only an inch or two from his, and he could easily capture her lips in a kiss.
He shakes his head. Why is he even thinking about that? He hasn't shown interest in anyone else since Penelope. He's spent years burying himself in his work, allowing it to consume him. There are more important things going on right now than a passing infatuation with a barmaid.
But isn't that exactly why he's tempted? His actions have lead him here. If he hadn't abandoned his family, his brother's death might not hurt the way it does. If he hadn't prioritized work over everything else, he wouldn't be too ashamed to be at the Burrow now, comforting his family through their grief. Audrey feels like hope, like a chance for a new start.
The moment passes. Audrey releases his hands and turns her back to him, returning her attention to the troll marionettes. "It's what helped me keep my mind off things when it got bad," she explains, her voice soft and pensive. "I don't know what or who you lost in the war, but I hope you were able to have a moment of peace."
Percy steps closer. His hand trembles, but he places it on her shoulder. The smile on his lips feels more solid now, more genuine. "Thank you."
Audrey nudges him gently with her shoulder. "We should go." Her hand slides into his, their fingers lacing together. "I have an early shift tomorrow."
"Maybe I'll see you then," he says, surprised by his own boldness.
She grins. "Maybe."
And as they walk through the streets together, Percy realizes that this is the first time he's felt okay in a long time. He had hoped to find blissful oblivion at the bottom of a bottle, but he's found something better. Whatever misery the war has brought, at least its aftermath has given him the chance to meet Audrey. Something tells him that this serendipitous meeting is the first step to healing.