A/N This is actually the last chapter. *Tear* It crept up on me and it was over before I knew what had happened. Thanks for following this fic witch its tiny chapters and no actual story line. Every review, alert and favourite was appreciated.

This chapter is dedicated to kk1999 and she's probably thinking 'huh? why?' lol but your review last chapter inspired me to take my time and give this chapter the attention is deserved.

Over the next few weeks, Percy watched Hermione closely while the rest of the family seemed to be watching him. Though the twins swore they didn't breathe a word to anyone, suddenly everyone was very well informed of the fling between Percy and Hermione. The fling that didn't actually exist. Percy's staring, however, wasn't helping matters.

Hermione was blissfully oblivious to it all; to Percy's attention to her, to the Weasley family's knowledge of her sex life, to Harry and Ron's horror of it all. So, on Thursday afternoon when Mrs Weasley asked if she could help clean out the broom shed she happily accented. Even when she noticed Percy standing awkwardly in the doorway, holding a box for his mother, she didn't realise that it was all a setup, better for Mrs Weasley to observe them.

"Oh, you're here, good!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed, spotting Hermione as she approached the shed. Hermione shot a quick smile at Percy before surveying the shed. It was a tiny thing; the rotting wood was held together with the bare minimum of rusty nails. The 'broom shed', as it was commonly called, had recently become a dumping ground for the constant flux of residents at the Burrow. It seemed to be the place to leave any of their useless crap that they no longer wanted but couldn't bear to throw away. Only a handful of old brooms were actually stored there and they were all big old clunky ones that had gone out of fashion years before.

Every spare inch of space, from floor to ceiling, had been stuffed with boxes, books, childhood toys and an innumerable number of knitted 'Weasley' jumpers in all sizes and colours. Hermione shot a look at Mrs Weasley, ready to offer a comforting word but she was simply shaking her head, a small smile on her lips.

"I wondered where they were stashing them all," she said to Hermione with a laugh.

"I've kept all of mine, Mum," Percy promised, a touch of the pompous Percy shining through.

"Of course you did, dear," Mrs Weasley said.

Hermione smothered a laugh and stepped closer to help determine the best way to sort through the mess. They debated for a few minutes and didn't come up with anything productive. The problem was everything was stacked in such a way that if you removed anything, the rest of the tower threatened to come tumbling down around them.

"Oh, to hell with it," Hermione muttered before raising her wand and pointing it at the shed. "Accio jumpers!"

With a groan and an ominous creaking sound, the jumpers exploded from the shed, sending wood and objects in every direction. Hermione had underestimated the quantity of jumpers and was soon buried beneath a mountain of wool as they all gravitated towards her. They pressed down on her, much heavier than expected and she had to wait a minute for Percy and Mrs Weasley to dig her out. She came out laughing which abruptly was cut off as she surveyed the damage she had caused. The backyard of the Burrow was littered with debris; wood, brooms, old books and a slew of random objects were scattered from one end of the yard to the other.

"I'm so sor-"

"Don't be!" Mrs Weasley cut her off before she could finish. "That old shed needed to be replaced anyway and now I have a real excuse to do it. Are you alright, though? How about you sit down while I go make you a cup of tea? Percy, look after her."

Mrs Weasley bustled off back inside and immediately took up her post at the kitchen window that gave her a clear view of the young couple. Absentmindedly she set the kettle to boiling water without looking. Outside Percy had led Hermione to the garden bench Mr Weasley had gotten his wife for Christmas, and helped her sit.

"I'm fine, really," Hermione told Percy, both unaware to Mrs Weasley's spying. The wince as she sat down though betrayed her words and Percy conjured a cushion to place behind her back. She smiled her thanks at him. He swept an anxious gaze over her, on the lookout for and bruises or cuts. Hermione was touched by his concern and felt a surge of affection towards the grumpiest Weasley. She tried to keep her expression clear of pain but she was starting to feel the aches of being buried by jumpers, in retrospect not such a fun, or funny, experience.

Percy debated what to say to the young woman who had become his obsession; to confess all; to scold over a foolish act; to praise over such a bold act; to simply fold her into his embrace and kiss her senseless.

He cleared his throat and Hermione looked at him expectantly, an eyebrow raised. "You – that is, I – your hair is different today," he blurted out eventually. Hermione self-consciously touched a hand to the twin braids she had wrangled her hair into that morning.

"I knew we would be working, I wanted it out of the way," she explained.

"It looks pretty," Percy said in a rush. "I mean, you look pretty. In them. With them that way." He blushed bright red but Hermione didn't laugh, just laid her hand on his arm.

"Thank you," she said with a smile and Percy gave her a reluctant smile back. No one looking on –and there was someone watching - would have noticed but for the two people on the garden bench, the whole yard seemed to have shifted and they now found themselves in a different world.

The End