Author's Note: OOM just hit a milestone: 20,000 views. Last week, it earned it's 300th review. Thank you all for reading my story, and sending such lovely feedback. As a 'thank you,' here's this week's chapter a little early.
Disclaimer: The characters and world belong to JK Rowling.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The curtains were still pulled, casting Percy's room in semi-darkness, but one glance at the Tempus charm told Audrey that her lover was long gone to work. Stretching lazily, Audrey burrowed down into the blankets, loath to leave their warmth. What was she going to do with her day off from the department store? Percy would be gone until after dinner, no doubt. Fleur was still keeping mysteriously mum at Shell Cottage. It worried Audrey somewhat, not seeing her best friend for so long, but Percy had told her that he'd seen Bill a few times on Diagon Alley.
Finally, Audrey's bladder made staying in bed impossible, and she rolled out from under the counterpane into the cool air. Yanking Percy's dressing gown around her, she scurried off to the toilet, and then a nice, hot shower. Or maybe breakfast first, even showering was better on a full stomach.
While she waited for her porridge to come to a boil, Audrey noticed that Percy had saved her that morning's copy of The Quibbler. Next to a laughable headline claiming the existence of the Loch Ness Monster (everybody knew that was a case of Muggle baiting) was a headline decrying the imprisonment of Muggle-borns in Azkaban. It was easy to dismiss the likes of Xenophilius Lovegood as absurd, but Audrey knew all too well what it was like to have an eccentric father. Of course, her father published his fantastical theories in learned tomes for other scholars.
Audrey set the paper aside, opting to read more of her novel over her bowl. Sitting at the table, trying to keep the pages of the book open with one hand, and spooning porridge into her mouth with the other, Audrey stared at the settee. She'd charmed it into a red and gold stripe that Percy said reminded him of the Gryffindor common room. Maybe she could conjure up some throw pillows for it, or buy him some if she had anything left over from her paycheck. Still, the flat looked a bit drab, it needed a few personal touches. They'd spent the entire previous night reading on that sofa together. Audrey had placed her feet in Percy's lap so he could rub them, which he did without complaint. When she fell asleep, he'd gently coaxed her into bed without even the slightest lascivious intention.
After her shower, Audrey opened Percy's clothes press and Summoned the boxes she knew were stowed in the back. The first was full of jumpers. He'd unpacked several recently, but she knew that box was still quite full and pushed it back. The other box was full of bits of Percy. She placed a Locomotion charm on the box and floated it into the sitting room. She sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the lid.
Audrey knew she shouldn't open this box. It contained artifacts of Percy's past life. Mementoes that, she thought, reminded him of his shame. It wasn't exactly something they spoke of, his estrangement from his family. Percy was the type to brood over his mistakes, and what greater mistake could he have made beyond walking out on his family? Every reminder of that moment—the one that he couldn't take back—must feel like salt in the wound. So he packed them away, living in this drab little apartment with no clues as to who he was, how he loved, what made him happy. Some part of Audrey had been intent on shaking that up from the moment she first walked into his flat.
There hadn't been any grand plan; mostly she simply acted on whim. She bullied him into buying new bedding, a few pieces of furniture, the kinds of things that made a space livable. But no flat was truly homely without some personal touches—books on the shelves, pictures on the mantel, that sort of thing.
The sort of thing found in the box sitting before Audrey. If she opened this box and set a few keepsakes about the sitting room, it could be just the thing to finally make Percy face his past. Maybe he would even decide to return home before he got himself killed. More likely, however, it would probably piss him off. Audrey knew she was risking angering Percy, that he might even break off this…thing they had going on.
So be it. If she could manage to push the obstinate Gryffindor back into his family's bosom, then Audrey supposed it would all be worth it. Maybe it could be her final act of friendship, even if he didn't see it that way.
Pulling off the lid, Audrey put to one side a stack of letters tied with a blue ribbon. She recognized that ribbon, she'd envied it enough times as it tied up Penelope Clearwater's perfect ponytail. Wretch, how disgustingly sentimental. Clearing aside a stack of rolled parchments that she assumed were old Hogwarts' assignments (did he keep them all?), Audrey pulled out a stack of books. Not surprisingly, Percy hadn't kept any of the Gilderoy Lockhart books, nor any of the basic spell books that had probably been passed down to his younger brothers. There was a battered copy of Hogwarts: A History, well-used volumes from Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. With her wand, Audrey floated those books to the bookcase and placed them on the bottom shelf.
Under all those heavy textbooks, Audrey found what she was looking for: novels. There were a number of biographies and histories, but there was also about a dozen mysteries and even a few issues of The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle. Leaving Martin Miggs in the box, Audrey walked the others to the bookcase and arranged them on the second and third shelves. Frankly, the top shelf was a bit out of her reach.
Returning to the box, Audrey found three photos in plain wood frames. The first was of the entire Weasley clan in front of a pyramid (she laughed at Bill wearing a fez). The second was of Percy and Oliver after Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup, Audrey would guess. A sweaty and disheveled Oliver, still in uniform, kept pumping his fist in the air while a grinning Percy slung his arm over the other boy's shoulders. The third was of Penelope. Taking out her wand, Audrey gilded the frames of the first two and arranged them on the mantle. The other she stuffed back into the box.
The remainder of the box was an odd assortment of broken quills, an old teddy bear, and bits of parchment. However, there were his Prefect and Head Boy badges to consider. Audrey could remember Penelope holding court in the common room, bragging about her boyfriend, the Head Boy. By all accounts, Percy had been proud of his accomplishments. As well he should be. One did not become Head Boy by skiving off.
Cupping the tarnished silver pins in her hand, Audrey traced the "HB" with her finger. Did a grown man display his old school things? He had a Gryffindor banner, and she wasn't about to hang that up, so what should she do with the badges? If they were hers, Audrey would keep them in her jewelry box along with the pearl necklace her parents gave her as a graduation gift and the opal ring that Granny gave her on her eleventh birthday. As far as she knew, Percy didn't have anything like that. Every night he placed his gold watch and money pouch in a small dish on top of his bureau.
Flicking her wand, the letters and whatnot jumped back into the box that then zoomed back to the bedroom. Audrey surveyed her handiwork. Not bad. She would probably fuss with the placement a bit, but the overall effect was a great improvement. This looked like a flat that was lived in by a man who loved to learn, who loved to read, and loved his friends and family.
But would he appreciate having all of this dragged out? And was he forgiving?
oOo
A pink, paper airplane zipped into the outer office of the Minister of Magic, crashed into the forehead of the last, lingering employee, and fell onto the desk in a pathetic heap.
Percy sighed, and picked up the memo. He was just preparing to leave for the day, and this was the last thing he needed. Without even looking at it, Percy somehow knew it was from Williamson. That man seemed to charm the damned things to attack Percy, which was an effective way of making sure that it fell into the correct hands, he reckoned. Except that Percy suspected the Auror found great amusement at the idea of Percy being pecked to death by memos. When the war was over, Percy was going to have a long chat with Charlie about his former dormmate and his prattish qualities.
He was the last one to leave the office, but Percy still looked around surreptitiously before unfolding the paper airplane. Not surprisingly, it was blank, but a wave of his wand fixed that. The neat, precise handwriting of Liam Williamson materialized:
I've noticed things have been quiet in your office lately.
Percy frowned. The Minister's office was anything but quiet. The longer Harry Potter remained at large, the more anxious Thickness grew. Percy surmised then, that by "office," Williamson really meant the Order of Mercy, which had been frustratingly quiet for going on a month.
The Snatchers are particularly gleeful as of late. There is a Muggle-born couple on the run, and word has it the woman is pregnant. I am tracking them down, but stand by to give assistance.
Percy crumpled the missive in his hand.
Dammit, he hadn't expected this of Williamson. Passing on information was one thing, actually tracking down a Muggle-born fugitive was quite another. Expecting help from the Order of Mercy when Fleur had specifically placed a moratorium on activities was reckless. Percy didn't like it, and he didn't like being given orders by a man he still held reservations about.
On the other hand, what if this woman was pregnant? Would they consign an expecting mother to Azkaban? Percy knew the answer was "yes." And what of the child once it was born?
Despite what he thought of Williamson, or what Fleur said, Percy already knew that he would help with this mission no matter what. He couldn't sit by and watch an innocent family be torn apart, or a helpless baby be murdered. It made his stomach cramp just thinking about it.
After smoothing out the missive Percy then rolled it up and placed it inside his robes. It was past time to go home where Audrey would be waiting for him. That thought had him grinning as he made his way to the lifts. Given the late hour, perhaps he should get some take away on his way home.
Home was such a peculiar word. It was simple, only four letters and one syllable, yet so loaded with sentiment and meaning. Home for Percy had always been the Burrow. Even when he'd lived most of the year at Hogwarts, home had still been where his parents were. After the fight with his dad, the word had become a painful reminder of his own shortcomings. Home was never the colorless flat he lived in, it was the place he was cut off from. The closest thing Percy had known to home in the last years had been the week after Oliver's brothers died. Percy had stayed up at Red's Wood with his friend, despite the deep grief, there was a familiarity there. It was love and comfort, it was home. It was only in the last few months that Percy had begun to think of his own domicile as home. He could pretend it was because he was finally working his way back to his family, or perhaps that it was because Bill was more in his life now, but he knew that wasn't the truth of it.
It was Audrey. It was her presence and her laugh. She added color to his drab world.
Bearing a bag of curry, Percy entered his flat. It was on his lips to call for Audrey, but it was unnecessary. She materialized from the bedroom as soon as the door closed behind him. So instead, Percy grinned.
"Have you been bored today?" he asked.
"I finished my book," Audrey replied, wringing her hands. "And…stuff."
"Have you ate? I picked something up." He set the bag on the kitchen table.
"Th-that sounds lovely."
Audrey stood between the couch and the table, practically bouncing on her toes, her eyes darting around the room. It reminded Percy of when Ginny was little. She never cared much if she destroyed something of the twins or Ron, but she was always contrite if she ruined something of Bill or Charlie's. She would be very sorry, very anxious. Percy couldn't help but feel amused at that same look on Audrey's face.
"Have you broken something?" Percy asked, a bemused smile on his face. He couldn't imagine what of value she could have broken in his flat.
"What? No?"
Was that a question, or wishful thinking in her tone?
Feeling perplexed, Percy looked around for a clue. What could Audrey have done to make her act like a child caught with her hand in the biscuit tin? There was honestly nothing of value in his flat. The few things that meant anything to him were either packed away or on his person. Percy's eyes ran over the fire crackling in the grate, and then….
All of a sudden Percy felt both hot and cold. Quickly, he scanned the photos on his mantle, the books on his shelves. He recognized those items, of course he did! They were all relics from a life he had shut himself off to. They were the things he packed up the day he walked out on his parents, the things that had remained in their box ever since.
Now, there they were, put on display for all the world to see. For Percy to look at, to remember what he once had, what he had thrown away. What he was working to return to. Percy didn't feel sick at the sight of his parents and siblings waving from the frame, and that surprised him. Instead, he felt angry.
Marching to the fireplace, Percy snatched the photo of his family in Egypt, then whirled around. "Audrey?"
"It looks homely, doesn't it?" she said, her voice as high and thin as the smile that stretched her face.
Homely. Home.
"You-you've been into my things," he accused, pinching the bridge of his nose above his glasses.
"I wanted to do a bit of decorating, make it look like you live here."
"Oh, and you thought nothing of invading my privacy then?" Percy snapped.
"Sorry?" Audrey twisted her hands. "I remembered the box and just—"
"Dammit, Audrey, don't play stupid!"
Her hands clenched.
"How many times have you consoled me over the estrangement from my family? I hardly think I had to come right out and tell you not to go snooping around my things. Bloody hell, that box has been hidden away in my clothes press for two years, that right there should have been clue enough to keep your bloody nose out!"
With a red face, Audrey opened her mouth twice before saying, "Well perhaps it's time to change that."
"Who the bloody hell are you to decide that?"
"I'm your friend—"
"Who shags me, yes, yes. You always want to dictate the terms of what we are. You're not my girlfriend, well you're also bloody well not my magi-therapist. Did it ever occur to you how I might feel about being ambushed with-with all of this!" He made a sweeping gesture with his arms.
"Ambush is a little strong," Audrey argued.
"The bloody hell it is!"
Percy was well aware of what the word meant—he hadn't grown up with Fred and George for nothing. He knew exactly what it felt like to be caught off guard, the gut punch of surprise. It was never pleasant, but at least the twins only had some nasty trick in store for him. He could trust the twins to be underhanded and devious. That was the thing, Percy thought he could trust Audrey. Or maybe he just convinced himself that he could, he certainly wanted to.
The things in that box weren't much. Some old textbooks and essays could hardly be called personal. The picture of his family had been printed in the Daily Prophet for Merlin's sake, hard to be more public than that. The books, the parchments, the badges he'd been so damn proud of, they all represented a time in his life when he thought he was on top of the world when really he was just a petty bureaucrat. All those names the twins used to call him were true, and all that pride his mum had for him was misplaced. Percy knew all too well that his own hubris had been his downfall. Looking back, it was frankly laughable that he hadn't seen it coming. How stupid he must have been, how blind.
Percy could write essays five feet long on his own foolishness. He could, and had, lie awake at night worrying over every detail of his mistakes. That didn't mean he wanted to look at the reminders when he walked into his flat. Nor did he want them drug up by not-his-girlfriend.
Placing the photo back on the mantel with care, Percy glanced at the one of him and Ollie. That one made Percy smile just a bit. They were just things, after all. All of the power a mere photo had to shame him was granted by his own guilty conscience. He didn't like that Audrey had snooped around his things, but if he let his good sense do the thinking—and not his Weasley pride—Percy knew that she hadn't meant to hurt him. Maybe she was even trying to help him, in a misguided sort of way.
At least she didn't put out the picture of Penny, he thought wryly.
Penny. That twisted gut feeling rocked Percy again. There were other mementos of his relationship with Penelope in that box besides her picture. Where were they? Percy's eyes darted around the room but saw no sign of them. He rushed into his bedroom, vaguely aware that Audrey was following him. On the floor by the clothes press he saw the box, its lid lying beside it. Lifting up the box, he saw the items he was looking for.
"Did you read these?" Percy demanded, holding up the bundle of letters.
"No! I would never—" Audrey stammered, holding her hands up.
"Why should I believe that?"
"Percy, I wouldn't look at your personal correspondence."
"You'll have to pardon me if I find that less than reassuring," Percy said coldly. "You had no qualms at dragging out the rest of my personal things."
Audrey took a deep breath, blinking a few times. "Those are from her, why would I want to read all the little nothings your ex-girlfriend wrote to you?"
"What? Now you're jealous?" Percy hissed. "You're not my girlfriend."
"Look, Percy, I understand that you're angry—"
"Do you?"
"I just wanted to help….To—"
"Bloody hell!" Percy bellowed. "How did you think this would help?"
Audrey blinked. "Maybe I should leave."
"Yes, maybe you should."
Standing by the clothes press, Percy watched as Audrey slowly backed out of the room. She didn't turn until the last moment, her face anxious, as if she were waiting for something else to happen. Even when she was out of sight, Percy remained frozen to the spot, listening to her collect her things, the bang of the door when she left. Still, he stood in the gloom of his room wondering what he had just done.
Tossing the letters into the box, Percy slid down to the floor. Later he was never sure how long he sat on the floor, his hands resting uselessly between his knees. Too many emotions were rumbling through him to process, so mostly Percy felt numb. Was he truly angry with Audrey? Yes, he decided, he was. Did he feel betrayed? Not really. Percy was well acquainted with betrayal, and while Audrey had gone about it in an underhanded manner, she hadn't betrayed him. He'd never told her not to get into that box, after all. Although, some stubborn part of him still felt she should have known without him having to say the words.
After awhile, Percy lit the candles in his room and pulled the stack of letters out of the box again, weighing them in his hands. There were no great secrets contained in that stack of parchment, just the awkward innuendos of two teenagers embarking on their first serious romance. They were embarrassing more than anything. Setting them aside, Percy pulled out the old teddy bear.
The brown fur had been worn thin in places, and the stuffing had shifted into the bottom so that the head drooped bonelessly, but Percy had bought it impulsively two days after he disowned his family. His only defense was that it reminded him of Ron's ratty childhood bear, or maybe it was just the Weasley in him that compelled him to buy this teddy bear. What other reason could there be to buy an old toy for a new baby?
Percy held the bear before him, looking at it for the first time since he'd tossed it into the box the day after he broke up with Penelope. "Broke up" may be the wrong term, it's not as if there had been any discussion or agreement. There hadn't even been an argument. Regardless, their relationship had definitely come to an end.
The day that Cornelius Fudge promoted young Percy Weasley to the Minister's office had been one of incredible highs and lows. First was the surging relief of the Minister for Magic offering him, Percy, a reprieve. Only to march home to be crushed by his father's words when Percy was expecting accolades. Stomping through the gate with the Burrow at his back, Percy had Disapparated to Penny's in a rage. Instead of the celebration he was planning, all Percy could go on about was how unfair his father was, how foolish the whole lot of them were. When he was finished venting his spleen, Penelope had said something that turned the day on its head again. She was pregnant.
Looking back on it now, Percy realized how anxious Penelope was as she revealed her news, but ever the prideful idiot, Percy had missed it then. He'd gone from elated to angry to excited, all in the span of a few short hours. His mind was consumed with the thought of starting a family of his own. Sure, it wasn't how he had planned it: the proper engagement, followed by the big wedding, and then an appropriately timed, planned pregnancy. It was amazing to him how none of that mattered any longer. He, Percy, would have his own family. It didn't matter that Arthur Weasley and the rest of the clan had tossed Percy out, that they never really accepted him, because Percy would have his own child to lavish with love and attention. It would be hard, he knew, but his new salary would go a long way to smoothing the path for his little family. He and Penny would marry, of course, and perhaps a new grandchild would bring his mum to her senses. Once Mum came around, Dad would follow, then the rest of his siblings would fall into place.
The next few days Percy had walked through life with his head held high. Moving his things into the Minister's office, unpacking his robes in Penny's flat, seeing babies everywhere he went and imagining his own ginger cherub. When he'd passed by the second-hand store with the teddy bear in the window, he'd dodged in to buy it without a second thought. He would give it to Penny and make plans for the wedding. Maybe a civil ceremony would be more appropriate given the circumstances?
The fact that Penelope was sullen and withdrawn was completely lost on Percy. That she voiced misgivings about the pregnancy was dismissed entirely. Penny was a rising star in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she had a heavy workload, so Percy simply assumed that she was tired after a long day in the office. What had he thought she would do after the baby was born? Had he imagined she would give up her future to stay home as his mother had? Was he going to give up his work in the Minister's office? The thought had occurred to him, but he figured they had time to work it all out.
Maybe Penelope hadn't seen it that way. Percy never had the chance to give Penelope the teddy bear because on the third day after he walked out on his family, Penelope told Percy she ended the pregnancy. At first, he hadn't understood what she was saying. He assumed that she meant a miscarriage, and he assured her they could try again, do it properly this time. But no, that hadn't been it at all. Penny had an abortion at some Muggle clinic.
For a moment, Percy had stared at Penny in stunned silence. Then the hurt, the betrayal sank to the depths of his stomach and exploded. He Disapparated straight out of Penny's to Oliver's flat. His friend was on tour with Puddlemere at that time, but Percy hadn't known where else to go. He cried his eyes out on Oliver's settee, heartbroken and lost. In less than a week, he'd lost his family twice. And he knew where the blame lie: it was all on him, Percival Ignatius Weasley. It was his pride that blinded him to the truths his father spoke and to the obvious misgivings that Penelope had been experiencing.
Oliver had turned up a few days later showing no surprise at finding Percy squatting in his Puddlemere flat. "So," the burly Quidditch player said over a Butterbeer, "you cut off your family? Or did they cut you off?"
"It's a little bit of both, I would imagine."
"And Penelope dumped you."
"Something like that." Percy didn't correct Oliver, nor did he tell him the truth. He never wanted anyone to know the truth. By that time, he had convinced himself that it was his own callousness that had caused Penny to do what she had done. If only he had been concerned for her feelings, if he'd bothered to see beyond his own selfish emotions, he could have convinced her that the baby was a blessing in disguise.
Oliver nodded. "Well, you certainly know how to bollocks things up in grand style."
The next day, when Percy had known that Penelope would be at work, Oliver helped him retrieve his things from her flat. The teddy bear was there, sitting on top of the box of jumpers he'd brought from home, a reminder of all he had lost. He had known in that moment that he didn't deserve any of it, not his family, not Penelope, and not the baby. Those were things that were reserved for good men, selfless men like his father or Bill or Oliver. Men who valued family. And what did Percy value? Ambition and power, obviously. How could it be otherwise? All of his actions, all of his inactions pointed to the fact that Percy was in fact a terrible person.
Shortly thereafter, Percy moved into his own flat. At first, flush with more money than he'd ever known in his life, Percy had bought a few things for his space. For a month, the only things in his apartment were a bed, the clothes press, and the bookcase. Those boxes, full of things from another life, had sat in his sitting room mocking him. Opening them would be a reminder of all his shortcomings. Mum came to his door, begging him to come home, and he turned her away because he knew he didn't deserve what she was offering.
Then the day came that Bill showed up on Percy's doorstep. Straight from Egypt and mad as hell, but resolute in mending broken family ties. All this time later, Percy still wasn't sure what it was about Bill that caused him to break. Maybe it was the simple fact that Bill was his big brother, the one who had soothed Percy's nightmares and helped him with maths. Whatever the case, Percy had blurted out the truth about Penelope and the baby. He'd cried—no, if Percy was honest, he sobbed—and Bill had comforted him. Percy still couldn't return home after that night, but he also couldn't refuse himself the one luxury of Bill's occasional company.
Wiping his eyes, Percy placed the bear and letters back into the box and Banished it to the back of the clothes press. Was it time to burn the letters, maybe donate the bear? What good came from hanging onto things that were merely a reminder of the worst day of his life? Yet, Percy knew he would keep them. They were also reminders of that shiny nugget of hope, the only proof that his baby once existed for however brief a time.
Strangely, the pain of it didn't cut quite as deep as it once had.
oOo
A few nights after, Oliver strode into Percy's flat with a wide grin on his face. It was the happiest Percy had seen his friend since…. Well, he couldn't remember when, to be honest. Even before Oliver's brothers died, there had been that whole debacle with Katie and the cursed necklace. The last year had been a cruel one, but Oliver was grinning like he'd just won the Quidditch Cup all over again.
"I just got word," Oliver said unceremoniously. "Puddlemere is traveling to France for some friendly matches with the Toulon team after Christmas."
"Cheers."
Percy knew this already, the paperwork had passed through his desk earlier that week, but he wasn't going to mention it. Approval for the travel had to come through the Minister's office—which was not the normal procedure. The approval had come through just that morning, so Puddlemere must have been anxious to get word to their players.
"And Fleur is going to arrange for me to see Katie and Catriona."
That was good news!
Percy had hoped it would work out that way, but he hadn't been sure. With Bill and Fleur's continued silence, it seemed likely she wouldn't be able to honor a request from Oliver. Stiffly, but with genuine happiness, Percy patted Oliver on the shoulder.
Oliver chuckled, "Don't get sentimental on me there, Perce."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Oliver strode into the kitchen and reappeared with a Butterbeer. "Where's Audrey?"
"We're fighting, actually."
"Something else non-boyfriends and girlfriends regularly do."
A weary sigh straggled out of Percy. He'd woke up the morning after the fight feeling less than rested, ready to race over to Audrey's and beg her to come back. He hadn't touched the frames or the books or any of the other things she'd dragged out of the box, but he hadn't gone to her either. He was trying, very hard, to exercise caution. He was trying to see Audrey clearly, but all he could think was that he missed her laugh.
What was it about this woman that had his head so turned? She was baffling. Constantly drawing lines in the sand, then casually walking over them. She was infuriating. Keeping him at an arm's length one moment, and drawing him in the next. She was funny, she was kind, and she was the person he most wanted to see every night and again the next morning.
Then, just the previous day, Percy had an insight. It happened when he was looking at the books on his shelf. They were all books he'd read while in Hogwarts, some of them many times. It wasn't so much that he loved the books, as that there had been so few to choose from. Yet, on Percy's shelf, mixed in with all of his old books was one he had never seen before. It was a beat up copy of something called The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett. Percy had neither seen the book before nor did he know who Hammett was.
Turning the book over in his hands, flipping through the pages, Percy tried to figure out where it had come from. He supposed it could have been Penelope's and he'd accidently packed it up after they broke up. That was unlikely, however. For one, Penelope didn't like mysteries. In fact, during the entire time Percy knew her, he never saw her with a Muggle book. For another, Penelope never bought anything second hand. She came from a well to do family and had rather high standards. In retrospect, Percy couldn't imagine what she was doing with him. He might have put a nice gloss on it, but he was a Weasley from his red hair to the pained way he counted out sickles for a bag of sweets.
All of that was pretense. Percy knew without a doubt that book wasn't Penelope's, he was just searching for confirmation of what his gut was telling him. Audrey had given him the book. It was a present, a parting gift, he suspected. Of course she hadn't wrapped it in a bow, or even announced that she had a surprise for him. No, Audrey incited a fight—one he was sure she hoped would push him away—then left a little trinket to be found later. Maybe she hoped he would read the book and think of her fondly?
Had he ever thought winning Audrey over would be simple?
As he read the book, enthralled by Sam Spade, Percy was both horrified and giddy to realize that Audrey was trying to push him away. If that had been her intent, then that meant Percy was getting close enough to be pushed. As far as he was concerned, that was a good thing. At the same time, Percy was sad, not for himself, but for Audrey. It was a terrible thing for a person to have all her protective wards battered down.
If only he could earn her trust.
