Title: You Needed Me - 4 July 1995
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's. Except the National Gallery, which, near as I can figure, belongs to the British government.
A/N: I have an unfortunate fascination with art museums. And since I couldn't justify using the Art Institute of Chicago, the Dallas Museum of Art, or the San Antonio Museum of Art, which are the only art museums I know really *well,* I had to sort of browse the National Gallery website and hope for the best. I hope I don't embarrass myself too badly.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1 - Tiger Tiger, Strega Brava, Tessie, Myr, Rubicon, Azure, Gwen, Coqui, Just Silver, Artema, Ruka-chan, Courteney, and Sofia_Asman (hope I didn't miss anyone).
===========
It was full light before Harry woke the next morning. He could hear birds chirping outside the window, and he looked up to see three owls there again - Hermes, Hedwig and . . . Pig?
"'Morning, sleepy." Percy greeted him. "I can make scrambled . . ."
"You told him!" Harry burst out.
"What?" Percy looked confused at his newfound friend's irrational behavior.
"Ron! I asked you not to tell him where I was, and you told him anyway!"
Percy tried his hardest to project the utter sincerity he felt when he said. "I did *not* tell Ron where you are. I think that as far as he knows, you're still on Privet Drive."
"Then what's . . .?" He pointed at Pig.
Percy lifted Pig from the perch and carried him to Harry. "I don't know. The note's for you."
"Oh." Harry said, embarrassed, as he took the note from Pig's leg and scratched the tiny owl behind his wings. Pig fluttered back up to the perch. Harry could almost hear Hermes and Hedwig sighing in resignation as the tiny owl joined them.
Harry looked at the clock, then at Percy. "Hey. Shouldn't you be at work?"
Percy shrugged. "They haven't appointed a new Minister for International Magical Co-Operation yet, and Dad and Fudge have been after me to take some time off, so I owled them this morning telling them that I'd be busy all day."
"Busy with what?"
"I don't know. What would you like to do today?"
Harry's eyes widened. "I don't know. Whatever you'd like to do."
"Well, since you don't want anyone to know where you are," Percy opened a box on his desk and pulled out two Galleons, "I suggest we take these to Gringott's and change them for Muggle money and spend the day on the Muggle side of town."
"Are you sure?" After seeing Percy's discomfort in the coffee shop the previous day, he was uncertain about how well he'd handle an all-day Mugglefest.
"Why not? If nothing else, it'll drive Dad mad with envy."
As Percy fixed breakfast, Harry read his note from Ron. It was the usual, expressing concern for Harry's emotional condition, and wondering if Harry would be able to visit him at The Burrow this summer.
Harry quickly scrawled out a reassuring response, telling his friend that he was feeling much better, which he was surprised to realize was the truth, and that he'd be glad to stay at the Burrow later that summer, which he realized as he wrote it was a lie, but he couldn't very well convince Ron that he was fine if he tried to get out of his annual Burrow visit. He tied the response to Pig's leg and sent the tiny owl on his way back to Ron.
After they'd each showered, and Harry had used a quick cleaning spell on his robes, they were ready to go out. The back of Percy's building faced Diagon Alley, and they went out the Diagon Alley side.
"Percy?" Harry asked as they walked down the street towards Gringott's.
"Hmm?"
"Do you have any Muggle clothes?"
Percy nodded. "Dad always felt it was good to have some on hand, just in case."
"Oh. Good." Harry nodded.
"Aren't your Muggle clothes at the Dursleys' still?"
Harry's eyes widened. "I completely forgot about that."
"You could borrow some of mine, though they'd be a little too big for you."
Harry laughed. "Obviously you don't remember my Muggle clothes."
Percy looked confused, so Harry explained. "All of my Muggle clothes are hand-me-downs from my cousin, Dudley. Dudley's . . . well, let's just say that you and I could *both* wear his clothes. At the same time. So if your clothes are a little large, I'm sure I'll be just fine."
They arrived at Gringott's and Percy had his two Galleons changed for fifty Muggle pounds. After their visit to Gringott's, they returned to Percy's flat to change. Percy lent Harry a shirt and trousers that had fit him several years ago, but which were now several sizes too small for him. They would have fit Harry perfectly, if Harry hadn't lost so much weight recently.
"When's the last time you ate regular meals?" Percy asked, concerned, as he took in the way the button-down shirt hung loosely from Harry's skeletal form.
"June 23." Harry responded distractedly. "Well, lunch on the 24th."
"How can you . . ." Percy was about to ask how Harry could pinpoint it so exactly, but the significance of the date hit him.
"You haven't eaten since the Third Task? Harry . . ."
"I've eaten enough." Harry said defensively.
Percy merely sighed heavily and let it go at that.
They finished dressing - Percy didn't have any shoes that would fit Harry, so Harry ended up wearing his school shoes, which were actually a kind of lace-up boot, tucking them inside his jeans and hoping no-one would notice.
They walked out of the Muggle side of Percy's building into the street. "So. Where do you want to go?"
Harry shrugged. "I've never . . . ." He tried again. "I've never had anyone ask me that question before." He finished plaintively.
"Well, then it's about time someone asked you." Percy smiled. "So, where do you want to go?"
"Um," Harry grasped at the first thing that came to mind. "The museum?"
"Sounds good to me." Percy smiled at him as they started walking. "One thing, though. Where's the museum?"
Harry stopped and stared at Percy, wide-eyed, then burst out laughing. "Beats me."
"I guess we'll have to ask for directions."
They went to the first shop they passed. "Excuse me," Percy said to the woman behind the counter, "but could you tell me how to get from here to the museum?"
"The museum? Which one?"
Percy and Harry looked at each other, sharing their confusion. "Whichever one's closest?"
Soon, they were in the National Gallery standing in front of Botticelli's "Venus and Mars."
"Well, that's very . . ." Harry looked at Percy, who was actually starting to blush. Whether it was from the nude Mars, with only a sheet draped across his hips, or Venus, clad in a filmy white garment that only barely provided adequate coverage Harry wasn't sure. Perhaps it was just the suggestiveness of it all.
Percy was still staring at the painting. "Dad told me about these Muggle paintings. They don't move, do they?" He mumbled something under his breath about how that was probably just as well.
Harry shook his head. "No. I think they probably don't need to, though. I think they're quite expressive enough like this."
Percy nodded. "Let's move on, then, shall we?"
They stopped next in front of "The Virgin of the Rocks" by Leonardo da Vinci.
"Now *this* one looks like it should move." Percy pointed. "You see that gap up there between the rocks? Doesn't it look like we should see *something* darting through there?"
"Yeah. I could see that." Harry said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile.
Later, as they left that wing of the museum, and went into the West Wing, a name caught Harry's eye. "Titian." He said.
"What?"
"That artist, there." He pointed at one of the paintings. "His name, 'titian,' means a shade of red hair." Harry looked pointedly up at the red curls topping Percy's head.
"In fact," Harry walked to one of the paintings, and pointed at the right-hand figure. "He sort of looks like a Weasley, doesn't he?"
Percy looked at it long, tilting his head from side to side. "My cousin Albert." He finally decided. "It looks like my cousin Albert."
They continued walking the galleries of the museum, talking and laughing, quietly, over the paintings on display. They became more relaxed as the day went on, more prone to joke and laugh together.
Harry was reminded of Ron, in a way, but in most ways, Percy was clearly different from his youngest brother. For one thing, Percy had a much drier sense of humor than any of his siblings. Sometimes Harry had to stop and watch Percy's eyes to see if he was joking.
After they'd finished the West Wing, Harry realized that for the first time in days he was actually hungry.
"Can we stop and get something to eat?" He asked shyly.
Percy's jaw dropped and he blanched. "Oh, my God. I got so wrapped up in this I completely forgot that you need to eat. I'm so sorry!"
"It's all right." Harry said dismissively. "I just noticed myself."
"No. I should have remembered." Percy scolded himself.
They took the steps down to the café and served themselves up a couple of sandwiches and some pastry, then after Percy paid for it, with some coaching from Harry, they found a table near the windows looking out at the traffic outside.
"Why've you gone all 'mother hen' on me, Percy?"
"That was direct." Harry could hear the flinch in Percy's voice.
"If you want me to dance around the question, I'm sure I can."
This time, Percy smiled. "That won't be necessary." He sighed. "I actually feel like this all the time, even when I'm acting like a stuffed shirt."
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Percy forestalled him. "Don't deny it. I've been ribbed about it enough by Fred and George." He sighed. "Well, first you know the age differences among us?"
"I know that there's two years between you and the twins, and Ron, and one between Ron and Ginny. Now, between you and Charlie, it's . . ."
"Seven. And Bill's three years older than Charlie. So Bill was ten when I was born."
Harry nodded his understanding.
"When I was one year old, Bill left for Hogwarts. One year after Bill left, the twins were born. And then, when the twins were two, and just after Ron was born, Charlie left. So here I was, four, and suddenly thrown into the role of 'big brother.'" He shrugged. "It never occurred to me that I could be just another child like the twins. All I'd ever known was 'big brother,' 'little brothers.' And I thought of myself as the 'big brother.' I guess I've spent my whole life trying to live up to that."
Somehow, this was the one of the saddest things that Harry had heard in a long time. He'd had his childhood stolen from him by Voldemort, and by the Dursleys, but to have relinquished it because that's the role you think your family expects from you . . .
Wanting to comfort his friend, Harry reached across the table, placing his hand over Percy's. Words failed him, but he knew that Percy understood when he smiled sadly. "Thank you." He whispered.
As they finished their lunch, Harry realized what he could do to repay Percy for his kindness - introduce him to childhood.
As they continued their tour of the gallery, Harry realized that Percy no longer seemed as embarrassed by the more scantily-clad works, and he seemed to have come to some kind of peace with their static condition.
"Actually," he admitted while looking at a Monet painting of his Japanese bridge. "Some of these would probably be diminished by movement. I don't think this could be improved any if some person kept clomping back and forth across the bridge. And anyway, the willows look like they're moving already. You sure this Monet guy wasn't a wizard?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't know for sure, but I bet he was pure Muggle."
Later, as they left the gallery, Percy gave Harry a half-smile. "At the risk of quoting my father, 'It's amazing the things those Muggles come up with.'"
Harry chuckled appreciatively, and together they headed back towards Percy's flat.
Percy whipped up some dinner for them, and as Percy didn't have a table, they sat together on the floor of his flat, eating in companionable silence.
Harry finally broke the silence. "This is really good."
Percy sighed. "Nah. It's not much. If you want to really get fattened up . . ."
"I know, let you take me to the Burrow. But I don't *want* to go there, Percy. I want to hide out here with you."
"Well, then, if you're up to more meals like this, who'm I to argue?" Percy reached for Harry's plate, which he held out of his host's reach.
"Oh, no. If you're not going to let me pay my own way, at least let me do the cleaning up."
Percy gave in with good grace and allowed Harry to take the dishes into the kitchen and use a charm he'd picked up from Molly Weasley to clean them. Then Harry returned to the living area.
"Don't you have a fiancee to be visiting?" Harry asked as he sat back down.
Percy sounded a little hurt. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"Of course not. But you and Penelope *are* engaged. And so I figured that you'd spend some time together sometimes . . . ."
Percy sighed. "The only reason we're engaged is because I haven't had the courage to break it off yet."
Harry slid over on the couch and made room for Percy to come sit by him. Once Percy had moved and was seated next to him, Harry asked. "What's the matter?"
Percy paused for a long while, then said, "I guess it started at our engagement party. Charlie brought his girlfriend."
"Charlie has a girlfriend?"
Percy nodded. "They're perfect for each other. They have the same sense of humor, they like the same things -- well, most of the same things, they practically finish each other's sentences. I was reminded so much of Mum and Dad . . . . Well, Penelope and I aren't like that. She's beautiful, and smart, and I was so flattered that she'd *want* to date me that I'd never noticed that we don't have anything in common."
He snorted bitterly. "She thinks I don't have a sense of humor. Do you think I have a sense of humor?" For some reason, Harry's answer to that question was of utmost importance to him.
"Of course I think you have a sense of humor. It's a little . . . dry, but I get your jokes. Most of the time. I think." I hope. He added silently.
Percy smiled widely. "You do. At least, you laugh in all of the appropriate places."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"But you see why I just need to get my courage up to break it off. I mean, she doesn't even think she should *hide* the fact that she doesn't understand my sense of humor."
Percy sighed and Harry, not knowing what to do, acted on instinct. He reached out and gathered Percy close to his chest, as the older man had done for him previously. They sat that way for a long time, until Percy finally stood.
"Well, better be getting to sleep." He smiled at Harry. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"For listening. For being there."
"You're welcome." Harry said simply with a soft smile.
Percy lay in the nest he'd made for himself on the floor as Harry lay on the couch. Both had taken off their glasses.
"You want the light on or off?" Percy asked.
Harry turned and smiled down at him. "I think I'd like it on again tonight. Just one more night."
"I'll leave it on as many nights as you need."
"Thanks. Good night, Percy."
"Good night, Harry."
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's. Except the National Gallery, which, near as I can figure, belongs to the British government.
A/N: I have an unfortunate fascination with art museums. And since I couldn't justify using the Art Institute of Chicago, the Dallas Museum of Art, or the San Antonio Museum of Art, which are the only art museums I know really *well,* I had to sort of browse the National Gallery website and hope for the best. I hope I don't embarrass myself too badly.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1 - Tiger Tiger, Strega Brava, Tessie, Myr, Rubicon, Azure, Gwen, Coqui, Just Silver, Artema, Ruka-chan, Courteney, and Sofia_Asman (hope I didn't miss anyone).
===========
It was full light before Harry woke the next morning. He could hear birds chirping outside the window, and he looked up to see three owls there again - Hermes, Hedwig and . . . Pig?
"'Morning, sleepy." Percy greeted him. "I can make scrambled . . ."
"You told him!" Harry burst out.
"What?" Percy looked confused at his newfound friend's irrational behavior.
"Ron! I asked you not to tell him where I was, and you told him anyway!"
Percy tried his hardest to project the utter sincerity he felt when he said. "I did *not* tell Ron where you are. I think that as far as he knows, you're still on Privet Drive."
"Then what's . . .?" He pointed at Pig.
Percy lifted Pig from the perch and carried him to Harry. "I don't know. The note's for you."
"Oh." Harry said, embarrassed, as he took the note from Pig's leg and scratched the tiny owl behind his wings. Pig fluttered back up to the perch. Harry could almost hear Hermes and Hedwig sighing in resignation as the tiny owl joined them.
Harry looked at the clock, then at Percy. "Hey. Shouldn't you be at work?"
Percy shrugged. "They haven't appointed a new Minister for International Magical Co-Operation yet, and Dad and Fudge have been after me to take some time off, so I owled them this morning telling them that I'd be busy all day."
"Busy with what?"
"I don't know. What would you like to do today?"
Harry's eyes widened. "I don't know. Whatever you'd like to do."
"Well, since you don't want anyone to know where you are," Percy opened a box on his desk and pulled out two Galleons, "I suggest we take these to Gringott's and change them for Muggle money and spend the day on the Muggle side of town."
"Are you sure?" After seeing Percy's discomfort in the coffee shop the previous day, he was uncertain about how well he'd handle an all-day Mugglefest.
"Why not? If nothing else, it'll drive Dad mad with envy."
As Percy fixed breakfast, Harry read his note from Ron. It was the usual, expressing concern for Harry's emotional condition, and wondering if Harry would be able to visit him at The Burrow this summer.
Harry quickly scrawled out a reassuring response, telling his friend that he was feeling much better, which he was surprised to realize was the truth, and that he'd be glad to stay at the Burrow later that summer, which he realized as he wrote it was a lie, but he couldn't very well convince Ron that he was fine if he tried to get out of his annual Burrow visit. He tied the response to Pig's leg and sent the tiny owl on his way back to Ron.
After they'd each showered, and Harry had used a quick cleaning spell on his robes, they were ready to go out. The back of Percy's building faced Diagon Alley, and they went out the Diagon Alley side.
"Percy?" Harry asked as they walked down the street towards Gringott's.
"Hmm?"
"Do you have any Muggle clothes?"
Percy nodded. "Dad always felt it was good to have some on hand, just in case."
"Oh. Good." Harry nodded.
"Aren't your Muggle clothes at the Dursleys' still?"
Harry's eyes widened. "I completely forgot about that."
"You could borrow some of mine, though they'd be a little too big for you."
Harry laughed. "Obviously you don't remember my Muggle clothes."
Percy looked confused, so Harry explained. "All of my Muggle clothes are hand-me-downs from my cousin, Dudley. Dudley's . . . well, let's just say that you and I could *both* wear his clothes. At the same time. So if your clothes are a little large, I'm sure I'll be just fine."
They arrived at Gringott's and Percy had his two Galleons changed for fifty Muggle pounds. After their visit to Gringott's, they returned to Percy's flat to change. Percy lent Harry a shirt and trousers that had fit him several years ago, but which were now several sizes too small for him. They would have fit Harry perfectly, if Harry hadn't lost so much weight recently.
"When's the last time you ate regular meals?" Percy asked, concerned, as he took in the way the button-down shirt hung loosely from Harry's skeletal form.
"June 23." Harry responded distractedly. "Well, lunch on the 24th."
"How can you . . ." Percy was about to ask how Harry could pinpoint it so exactly, but the significance of the date hit him.
"You haven't eaten since the Third Task? Harry . . ."
"I've eaten enough." Harry said defensively.
Percy merely sighed heavily and let it go at that.
They finished dressing - Percy didn't have any shoes that would fit Harry, so Harry ended up wearing his school shoes, which were actually a kind of lace-up boot, tucking them inside his jeans and hoping no-one would notice.
They walked out of the Muggle side of Percy's building into the street. "So. Where do you want to go?"
Harry shrugged. "I've never . . . ." He tried again. "I've never had anyone ask me that question before." He finished plaintively.
"Well, then it's about time someone asked you." Percy smiled. "So, where do you want to go?"
"Um," Harry grasped at the first thing that came to mind. "The museum?"
"Sounds good to me." Percy smiled at him as they started walking. "One thing, though. Where's the museum?"
Harry stopped and stared at Percy, wide-eyed, then burst out laughing. "Beats me."
"I guess we'll have to ask for directions."
They went to the first shop they passed. "Excuse me," Percy said to the woman behind the counter, "but could you tell me how to get from here to the museum?"
"The museum? Which one?"
Percy and Harry looked at each other, sharing their confusion. "Whichever one's closest?"
Soon, they were in the National Gallery standing in front of Botticelli's "Venus and Mars."
"Well, that's very . . ." Harry looked at Percy, who was actually starting to blush. Whether it was from the nude Mars, with only a sheet draped across his hips, or Venus, clad in a filmy white garment that only barely provided adequate coverage Harry wasn't sure. Perhaps it was just the suggestiveness of it all.
Percy was still staring at the painting. "Dad told me about these Muggle paintings. They don't move, do they?" He mumbled something under his breath about how that was probably just as well.
Harry shook his head. "No. I think they probably don't need to, though. I think they're quite expressive enough like this."
Percy nodded. "Let's move on, then, shall we?"
They stopped next in front of "The Virgin of the Rocks" by Leonardo da Vinci.
"Now *this* one looks like it should move." Percy pointed. "You see that gap up there between the rocks? Doesn't it look like we should see *something* darting through there?"
"Yeah. I could see that." Harry said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile.
Later, as they left that wing of the museum, and went into the West Wing, a name caught Harry's eye. "Titian." He said.
"What?"
"That artist, there." He pointed at one of the paintings. "His name, 'titian,' means a shade of red hair." Harry looked pointedly up at the red curls topping Percy's head.
"In fact," Harry walked to one of the paintings, and pointed at the right-hand figure. "He sort of looks like a Weasley, doesn't he?"
Percy looked at it long, tilting his head from side to side. "My cousin Albert." He finally decided. "It looks like my cousin Albert."
They continued walking the galleries of the museum, talking and laughing, quietly, over the paintings on display. They became more relaxed as the day went on, more prone to joke and laugh together.
Harry was reminded of Ron, in a way, but in most ways, Percy was clearly different from his youngest brother. For one thing, Percy had a much drier sense of humor than any of his siblings. Sometimes Harry had to stop and watch Percy's eyes to see if he was joking.
After they'd finished the West Wing, Harry realized that for the first time in days he was actually hungry.
"Can we stop and get something to eat?" He asked shyly.
Percy's jaw dropped and he blanched. "Oh, my God. I got so wrapped up in this I completely forgot that you need to eat. I'm so sorry!"
"It's all right." Harry said dismissively. "I just noticed myself."
"No. I should have remembered." Percy scolded himself.
They took the steps down to the café and served themselves up a couple of sandwiches and some pastry, then after Percy paid for it, with some coaching from Harry, they found a table near the windows looking out at the traffic outside.
"Why've you gone all 'mother hen' on me, Percy?"
"That was direct." Harry could hear the flinch in Percy's voice.
"If you want me to dance around the question, I'm sure I can."
This time, Percy smiled. "That won't be necessary." He sighed. "I actually feel like this all the time, even when I'm acting like a stuffed shirt."
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Percy forestalled him. "Don't deny it. I've been ribbed about it enough by Fred and George." He sighed. "Well, first you know the age differences among us?"
"I know that there's two years between you and the twins, and Ron, and one between Ron and Ginny. Now, between you and Charlie, it's . . ."
"Seven. And Bill's three years older than Charlie. So Bill was ten when I was born."
Harry nodded his understanding.
"When I was one year old, Bill left for Hogwarts. One year after Bill left, the twins were born. And then, when the twins were two, and just after Ron was born, Charlie left. So here I was, four, and suddenly thrown into the role of 'big brother.'" He shrugged. "It never occurred to me that I could be just another child like the twins. All I'd ever known was 'big brother,' 'little brothers.' And I thought of myself as the 'big brother.' I guess I've spent my whole life trying to live up to that."
Somehow, this was the one of the saddest things that Harry had heard in a long time. He'd had his childhood stolen from him by Voldemort, and by the Dursleys, but to have relinquished it because that's the role you think your family expects from you . . .
Wanting to comfort his friend, Harry reached across the table, placing his hand over Percy's. Words failed him, but he knew that Percy understood when he smiled sadly. "Thank you." He whispered.
As they finished their lunch, Harry realized what he could do to repay Percy for his kindness - introduce him to childhood.
As they continued their tour of the gallery, Harry realized that Percy no longer seemed as embarrassed by the more scantily-clad works, and he seemed to have come to some kind of peace with their static condition.
"Actually," he admitted while looking at a Monet painting of his Japanese bridge. "Some of these would probably be diminished by movement. I don't think this could be improved any if some person kept clomping back and forth across the bridge. And anyway, the willows look like they're moving already. You sure this Monet guy wasn't a wizard?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't know for sure, but I bet he was pure Muggle."
Later, as they left the gallery, Percy gave Harry a half-smile. "At the risk of quoting my father, 'It's amazing the things those Muggles come up with.'"
Harry chuckled appreciatively, and together they headed back towards Percy's flat.
Percy whipped up some dinner for them, and as Percy didn't have a table, they sat together on the floor of his flat, eating in companionable silence.
Harry finally broke the silence. "This is really good."
Percy sighed. "Nah. It's not much. If you want to really get fattened up . . ."
"I know, let you take me to the Burrow. But I don't *want* to go there, Percy. I want to hide out here with you."
"Well, then, if you're up to more meals like this, who'm I to argue?" Percy reached for Harry's plate, which he held out of his host's reach.
"Oh, no. If you're not going to let me pay my own way, at least let me do the cleaning up."
Percy gave in with good grace and allowed Harry to take the dishes into the kitchen and use a charm he'd picked up from Molly Weasley to clean them. Then Harry returned to the living area.
"Don't you have a fiancee to be visiting?" Harry asked as he sat back down.
Percy sounded a little hurt. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"Of course not. But you and Penelope *are* engaged. And so I figured that you'd spend some time together sometimes . . . ."
Percy sighed. "The only reason we're engaged is because I haven't had the courage to break it off yet."
Harry slid over on the couch and made room for Percy to come sit by him. Once Percy had moved and was seated next to him, Harry asked. "What's the matter?"
Percy paused for a long while, then said, "I guess it started at our engagement party. Charlie brought his girlfriend."
"Charlie has a girlfriend?"
Percy nodded. "They're perfect for each other. They have the same sense of humor, they like the same things -- well, most of the same things, they practically finish each other's sentences. I was reminded so much of Mum and Dad . . . . Well, Penelope and I aren't like that. She's beautiful, and smart, and I was so flattered that she'd *want* to date me that I'd never noticed that we don't have anything in common."
He snorted bitterly. "She thinks I don't have a sense of humor. Do you think I have a sense of humor?" For some reason, Harry's answer to that question was of utmost importance to him.
"Of course I think you have a sense of humor. It's a little . . . dry, but I get your jokes. Most of the time. I think." I hope. He added silently.
Percy smiled widely. "You do. At least, you laugh in all of the appropriate places."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"But you see why I just need to get my courage up to break it off. I mean, she doesn't even think she should *hide* the fact that she doesn't understand my sense of humor."
Percy sighed and Harry, not knowing what to do, acted on instinct. He reached out and gathered Percy close to his chest, as the older man had done for him previously. They sat that way for a long time, until Percy finally stood.
"Well, better be getting to sleep." He smiled at Harry. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"For listening. For being there."
"You're welcome." Harry said simply with a soft smile.
Percy lay in the nest he'd made for himself on the floor as Harry lay on the couch. Both had taken off their glasses.
"You want the light on or off?" Percy asked.
Harry turned and smiled down at him. "I think I'd like it on again tonight. Just one more night."
"I'll leave it on as many nights as you need."
"Thanks. Good night, Percy."
"Good night, Harry."
