Author's Note: So you could say this is awkward (at least for those that have read Stronghold). My justification is that headcanons are headcanons and every plot bunny should be explored so ENJOY.
This will be a ten-part story (ie - ten chapters). For information on the characters and their families, as well as cool graphics, there is a link on my profile to a tumblr page. For those too lazy to go there (I feel you), the URL is bymoonlightandsunrises!
Chapter 1 - Moonlight
2 May 1999
After the war, life had been constantly in flux for Percy Weasley. It still was like that, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, but perhaps he had grown accustomed to it after the tumultuous year they had all had. A year of sorrow and regret, a year of piecing his life back together - both his family and career life, that is - and a year of turning corners and not knowing what to expect. Good news? Bad news? Bodies? Prisoners? Percy had seen it all by now.
In the midst of it all, Percy's social life had been the first to suffer. His family was priority number one after the war, and he would do everything to ensure that it remained as such, then came his career, and then... the day would already be over and Percy would be exhausted out of his mind. He didn't mourn his social life much, anyways. After Fred's death, it had been difficult for Percy to reach out to other people. It was much easier to stay close with family and distract himself with work endeavours whenever that didn't work.
Now, a year had passed and Percy felt as if he should feel a bit different. He didn't, though, and wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Different or not, Percy knew better than anyone that when the Minister of Magic invited you to a gala to celebrate the war's heroes, you didn't say no and slam the door in his face. That was how Percy found himself standing in Kingsley Shacklebolt's rather impressive home, clad in dress robes, holding a flute of champagne in his hand and making cordial conversation with other Ministry workers.
Before the final battle, Percy would not have hesitated to go to any event the Minister had invited him to. It would have been a prime networking opportunity, another small thing that could prove to be a very big thing in the grand scheme of Percy's career. This time around, he felt more cautious - apprehensive, even. Part of the reason for this was fear - Percy was scared he would lapse into that same work-obsessed and uncaring personality. Mostly, though, it was because in the middle of his grief and taking care of his family, Percy had not gone to many outings, let alone fancy galas with some of the biggest names in the Ministry.
He was a rising big name, though, even if he had spent the last year working less. Well on his way to being promoted as the Head of the Floo Network Authority, Percy Weasley was indeed making an impact in the Ministry. This hadn't occurred to him until Kingsley had stepped into his office earlier that week to invite him to the memorial gala, though. He always tried his best to be a humble person, and although this had certainly not been amongst his most notable virtues in the past, it was certainly an important one in the last year.
Feeling the need to get some air and take a break from the small talk, Percy smiled kindly at his current conversation partner - the Head of the Auror Office, Gawain Robards - and said, "It's been lovely discussing with you, Auror Robards. Perhaps you can owl me some of those ideas of yours about how we can implement the Floo Network into the Auror training programme."
"Indeed I will, Weasley!" he exclaimed happily. "And please, do call me Gawain."
"Of course, then I must insist you call me Percy," the redhead replied. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, I think I'd like to go get a refill of this wonderful champagne and some fresh air."
"Of course, Percy," Gawain said with a nod, and then went on his way to strike up a conversation with Kingsley.
As Gawain Robards went over to Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister briefly locked eyes with Percy. He seemed to know, in just that split second gaze, what Percy was feeling.
Percy enjoyed socializing and networking. It was one of his strengths. But after the war, he always talked to people with an inward cringe. It was fear of having Fred brought up, fear of saying the wrong things, fear of people mentioning his past... Merlin, Percy was so bloody scared for a Gryffindor. But the war and especially duelling at the Battle of Hogwarts had been a jarring wake-up call to be more observant of the people around him. He hadn't particularly changed as a person, just the way he viewed the world... and the people inside it.
Percy knew it was silly to be so cautious and scared of unpleasant conversation, and going to this memorial gala was one way to move past that. But this wasn't some overnight development, after all.
Refilling his champagne flute, Percy headed out onto the spacious balcony through the glass double doors that were propped open to let in the spring breeze. It was a half moon that night, and Kingsley's impressive home in Northumberland had a clear sky that boasted a large collection of stars. Definitely more than Percy ever saw from his flat in London, anyways.
His gaze was torn from the night sky by a figure in his peripheral vision. Percy turned his head and realized that he was not alone on the balcony. It was a woman, dressed in a burgundy gown that left her back bare and covered her arms in lace. Her right forearm was leaning on the stone ledge of the balcony and her left arm was hanging by her side with a tumbler of whiskey as she gazed out into the gardens behind Kingsley's home. She had darker skin and nearly black hair that tumbled down her back in graceful waves.
When the woman turned her head, Percy noticed that her eyes were a soft, welcoming brown and that... she looked familiar. He couldn't place it though, and that quite bothered him.
Deciding against turning around and heading back inside - mostly because one person was much easier to deal with than fifty - Percy approached the balcony ledge and stood beside the woman. He leaned his elbows on the cold stone as he examined the intricate gardens and took a sip of his champagne. After a few seconds of this, he gave the woman a sidelong glance and startlingly realized that the woman was intently watching him. Her gaze didn't even falter when Percy looked up and blinked in surprise.
After a long moment of silence, the mysterious woman finally spoke.
"I'm not a fan of crowded rooms, either," she stated simply. "It's not claustrophobia, I just can't handle that many people all at once."
Percy took a moment to gather himself and finally reply with, "I agree. I'm not sure how some people can thrive in that kind of environment."
The woman smirked lightly. It seemed to fit her features so well. "I figured you'd be the social kind, Percy Weasley," she said, somewhat challengingly.
"With that many people, it's more like triage than socializing."
She laughed at that, and Percy couldn't help but think that her laugh sounded a lot like a beautiful song. It was echoing and graceful. It sounded controlled, too, as if the woman didn't want to give him too much credit and laugh excessively.
"You know my name," Percy started after a short moment of silence, "but I don't know yours. And I'm quite sure I've met you before."
"I don't believe in coincidences," the woman replied. "If you don't remember my name, it's for a reason."
"So we have met."
At that statement, the woman merely shrugged, that same mischievous smirk gracing her features once more.
"You're not going to make me guess, are you?" Percy asked jokingly.
"No, not at all," the woman answered. "What's in a name, anyways? Wouldn't you rather get to know me without the bias of a name? Like I said, everything happens for a reason. Maybe someone out there wants to give us a fresh start."
"Give me a fresh start," Percy corrected. "You know my name," he added as a reminder.
The woman shrugged. "Maybe you're the one that needs to work on your judgements, then."
Percy wasn't sure what it was about her, but the woman in front of him was refreshing. It wasn't anything about her beauty, although he would have to be blind to call her otherwise. It was the way she stated things. She was blunt and honest... observant and thoughtful. She seemed like a person that thought about each action she took and what benefits and detriments came along with that.
"Perhaps," Percy finally stated in agreement, a small smile returning her proud smirk.
There was another lull of silence as the woman took a sip of her whiskey, not betraying a single wince at the taste of the alcohol. He watched as she slowly sipped the alcohol, her sights set on the starry night sky even as she set the tumbler down on the stone ledge. Percy noticed how even when her lips were set taut, her eyes seemed to be smiling.
"'Do not go gentle into that good night,'" the woman finally said, not diverting her gaze from the moonlight.
Percy looked away from her suddenly, blushing at the thought of being caught staring - it was rather improper and unprofessional of him. But as he recognized the words, he slowly turned his gaze back to her regal features.
"'Old age should burn and rage at close of day,'" Percy recited with a smile on his face, feeling both amused and impressed. "'Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'"
The woman turned to meet his gaze with an equally impressed look on her face as she continued, "'Though wise men at their end know dark is right, because their words had forked no lightning - '"
"'They do not go gentle into that good night,'" the pair finished together.
The woman chuckled quietly, modestly, and Percy did the same. They both looked down at their feet for a moment before meeting eyes once more.
"Not many wizards are so well-read in muggle poetry," the woman observed. Her smirk was gone. Now, she held a small smile on her full lips.
"Neither are many witches," Percy countered, returning her smile.
"That's true," the woman agreed. "We are a rare kind, aren't we, Percy Weasley?"
He nodded and let silence fall between them again, neither of them breaking the eye contact. Like every silent moment before that one, it felt necessary, comfortable. There was no awkwardness. No need to fill the empty space with words because the space wasn't empty. There was something - inaudible, invisible, of course, but there was something there anyways.
"How can I possibly want to kiss a woman whose name I don't even know?" Percy finally asked, breaking the silence.
The woman didn't seem phased or taken aback. She merely shrugged. "What's in a name? Would you want to kiss me any less or any more if you knew my name?" she challenged.
"I don't think so," Percy answered thoughtfully.
"Then you've answered your own question."
Percy was amazed by this woman. It wasn't that she was intelligent - although he could tell she was. No, this wasn't intelligence that she was exhibiting. It was consciousness. Awareness. She thought about things and saw the world in a way that no one else saw. She was fearless in that sense. And Percy admired it.
Not saying anything else, Percy set his champagne flute on the stone ledge and gently cupped the side of the woman's face with his right hand. Her skin was soft, he noticed, and her mesmerizing brown eyes didn't move away from his blue ones for a single second. He leaned towards her just as she gently raised herself on the tips of her toes to meet their lips as their eyelids fluttered shut. It was a soft kiss, modest but lingering. Their lips joined a second time, a third time, a fourth... and then they both opened their eyes and blue met brown once more.
"You can't keep your name from me forever," Percy stated quietly.
"Forever?" the woman questioned. "Interesting choice of word."
Percy could feel his face heating up at that but tried to keep his visual reaction to a minimum. This woman was far too observant, after all. He took a step back, hand leaving her face, and nodded once.
"It was lovely meeting you," Percy said cordially. "Or meeting you a second time, I think."
"It was lovely to see you again, Percy Weasley," the woman said in return. "You are full of surprises."
With that, the woman grabbed her tumbler of whiskey from the stone ledge of the balcony and headed back to the gala. Percy watched as her hips swayed away from him and she raised her arm to down the rest of her drink. She was lost in the crowd in a matter of seconds, and Percy looked back at the moonlit sky.
Perhaps everything did happen for a reason. Only time would tell, though.
Whaaat? Mystery woman? Who could she possible be? ;)
Reviews are much appreciated, I love any opportunity to improve my writing and another person's perspective helps with that! Thank you for reading, stay tuned for the next chapter :)
