Title: You Needed Me - 6 & 7 July 1995
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's.

A/N: Thanks section - Thanks to Strega Brava, Just Silver, Niana, and Artema for your kind words about this story.

And, ooh! A new character. Sort of. I guess I get to add "him" to my "claimer" in the next chapter. . .

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6 July 1995

About an hour before Percy was supposed to pick up Harry for lunch, Penelope's owl arrived with a lunch invitation. He'd been dodging her for weeks, unable to face the fact that the next time he saw her, he'd break off their engagement.

But somehow, talking to Harry about it had firmed his resolve to break it off, and so he scrawled a hasty acceptance and sent her owl back, then sent Hermes to Harry with a note postponing their lunch together to a later date. He apologized profusely, even though he knew that Harry would have told him he didn't need to. But he couldn't afford to miss this chance to set things right with his fiancee.

An hour later, he and Penelope were sitting in a popular, well-lit restaurant. He could see the disappointment in her eyes that he hadn't chosen a more romantic location.

"Percy. . . ."

"Don't. I need to say something."

It wasn't like Percy to interrupt, so Penelope waited patiently for him to finish what he was saying.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately," Percy looked into Penelope's eyes wondered if she could see it coming. "Anyway, I . . . " Don't back down now, Percy, "Ithinkweshouldstopseeingeachother."

Hurt flashed in Penelope's eyes for a moment, but she quickly tucked it away and covered it with apathy. "I suppose you want the ring back . . ." She reached to wrench the diamond ring from her left hand.

"No. You can keep it, if you want. I don't have any use for it." He'd expected to feel relieved, but all he felt was numb. He wondered distantly if he'd ever feel anything again.

She laughed bitterly. "Like I have any need for it." She took the ring off and placed it on the table, and then she left the restaurant.

Percy placed a couple of sickles on the table to cover the cost of his drink and, leaving the ring untouched, went back to his office.

He went through the rest of the afternoon, wishing he could take it back, or go back to the Burrow and let Molly make him feel better. But he was old enough to know that there were no easy escapes in life. He'd just have to continue on and hope that this awful numbness would pass someday.

While Percy was out, Harry spent the day reading his novel and studying his textbooks. Percy returned home exactly on time, flashing Harry a patently false smile and headed for the shower. He returned several minutes later, his hair still damp, and headed for the kitchen.

Harry could sense something amiss in his friend's behavior, but couldn't place it. Concerned, he followed Percy into the kitchen.

"Hi." He said softly, hesitantly. "How was . . . your day?"

"It was all right." Percy shrugged as he looked high and low in the kitchen for something. "Got some more stuff organized. Nosed around to see if they've hired a new department head yet. Broke up with Penny. Damn! Where's the salt?"

The salt was right out on the counter in plain view. Harry handed it to Percy silently, then said, "You broke up with Penny?"

Percy didn't meet Harry's eyes. "Yeah. She asked me to lunch, and I figured that I really can't live like this anymore."

"Like what?" Harry prompted.

"You know. Dreading the next owl asking me to dinner. Wishing she were someone else. Wishing *I* were someone else."

He finally met Harry's eyes, and the pain Harry saw there made him catch his breath. "What I want to know is where I got the idea that breaking up with her would make things better, when all it's done is cut off my feelings altogether." Percy knew he was lying. Seeing Harry made the pain he'd been holding at bay suddenly come crashing down around him.

Harry could see Percy trying to keep from crying and was desperate to try to alleviate his pain. He walked to Percy and wrapped his arms around the taller man and felt the strain inside him ease as Percy quietly burst into tears.

Percy's arms came around and he clung to Harry desperately for a long time. Eventually, though, Harry's legs began to tire. He led Percy to the couch and they hugged for another minute.

"I should start dinner." Percy went to stand, but Harry restrained him.

"You should stay right here. Do they have anything like carryout in Diagon Alley?"

Percy nodded, snuffling loudly. "You - you . . ." His voice broke. He gestured vaguely in the direction of the pocket where he kept his wand.

"That's all right. There's no rush. I just wanted to make sure we could get *something* to eat later."

Harry slipped Percy's glasses off, looking closely into his friend's hazel eyes. "Don't want to get any more tear spots on these. Tear spots are a real bugger to get off of glasses." He put the glasses on the end table.

"I wish I knew what to tell you," Harry said, "but I've never broken up with anyone. I've never even been on a date."

"That's all right." Percy took Harry's hand and squeezed it gently. "You're here, and I appreciate that."

"Do you want to talk?" Harry asked.

Percy shook his head. "No." Then, to prove it, he continued. "It's just that at first I thought I loved her, then I thought I wasn't good enough for her, then I realized that I didn't love her. But if I didn't love her, then why'm I so miserable without her?"

Harry was at a loss. The only broken romance he'd ever been privy to was Cedric and Cho's, and even thinking about going down that path wouldn't do either of them any good. And it didn't apply in this situation anyhow, as both Percy and Penelope were still alive.

But something about the thought of Cedric and Cho hung with him and he said to Percy, "It's like a death, isn't it?"

Percy looked at him steadily. "What?"

"Well, it's the end of something. Your plans for the future. Whatever feelings you had for each other. Maybe you're just mourning for those things."

"You might be right." Percy's head dropped heavily onto Harry's shoulder. "But it doesn't make me *feel* any better."

"I think that only time can do that."

"Probably." Percy admitted grudgingly.

"Why don't we think about something else for a while?" Harry suggested.

"What?"

Harry's eyes rested for a moment on the chess strategy book.

Percy seemed to read his mind. "Oh, no. I'm not up to chess tonight."

"Well, then, how about we order some take-away and I can read my novel to you. It's pretty interesting."

Percy groaned. "Fiction?"

"Well, historical fiction. It's based on the life of Grindelwald. I figure that since the current Dark Lord keeps dragging me into his business, perhaps understanding the previous one would be a good idea." Percy still seemed unenthusiastic, so Harry suggested, "either that, or I can read from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five."

Percy sighed. "I guess it'll have to be the novel, then."

7 July 1995

Percy spent the whole day at work, even though there still was no work to do. He explained that he'd take both Saturday and Sunday off, but that he couldn't possibly bring himself to miss any more office time that week.

Harry knew that Percy was embarrassed to be so dependent on his job - he'd heard the Muggle term 'workaholic,' but he'd never really understood what it meant until now. Hermione's devotion to her schoolwork paled in comparison. Harry also suspected that Percy was using the office as a crutch to help him deal with his breakup with Penelope. And if that worked, more power to him.

But Harry also knew how important Percy considered Harry's situation. Percy had already missed one and two-halves days from work that week, between missing Tuesday and leaving early on Monday and Wednesday, and he was planning to stay home all week-end to spend together.

Harry spent the day reading his novel - Grindelwald's influence had just extended into Poland - and working on his Potions assignments. Potions was the class he was dreading most, but he knew that meant he had to work harder on it than on his other subjects.

He couldn't help smiling at this train of thought. He absorbed more work ethic living with Percy for - what was it now? -- four days? Five? Than he had in four years in Hermione's back pocket. He wondered briefly what it was about Percy that made such an impact on his life.

He stood, noticing that Percy would be returning from work soon. Pity Percy has to cook after spending all day at the office, Harry thought. Cooking cant be that hard. . .

He walked into the kitchen and began rummaging around, and by the time Percy returned, Harry had a fully-cooked, if unexciting meal featuring the traditional British 'meat and two veg.' The 'meat' in this case being what Harry thought were pork chops, and the 'veg'es being potatoes and asparagus, both boiled to within an inch of their lives.

"Evening, Harry." Percy greeted him. Then he gasped. "You fixed dinner?"

The expression on Percy's face, like he'd been given an unexpected gift, made Harry blush. "I hope I did all right. I'm not a very good cook."

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Percy assured him. "It's probably better than the first few meals I made." He rolled his eyes. "Now *those* were inedible."

They repaired to the living area and dug in. "The pork chops are excellent." Percy said lapsing back into silence again.

Harry noticed that Percy didn't comment on the vegetables. "So, what could I do better with the vegetables?" He asked.

"I didn't say anything . . ."

"You didn't need to. What you *didn't* say is sufficient." Harry winced when he noticed his tone. "I'm sorry. I know there's something wrong with them, but don't know what." He said sincerely.

Percy smiled. "I'm sorry, too. As for the vegetables, well, try adding salt to the potatoes next time. And asparagus is really better *steamed* rather than boiled."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Being honest, I guess." Harry shrugged. "Not being any harsher than you needed to?"

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that." Percy kidded gently.

Harry moved to take the empty plate from Percy's hands, but Percy held it out of reach. "No. You cooked, it's my turn to clean up."

After Percy cleaned the dishes, he returned to the living area and pulled out a Muggle chess set. "I read chapter one of that chess book last night." He told Harry. "If you'd like to get started . . ."

Harry nodded. "Why do we need a Muggle chess set?"

Percy shrugged. "It's what the book recommends. I guess there's no sense playing with pieces that'll give you attitude while you're still learning."

"You play white." Harry offered.

"No. I insist. You're the guest . . ."

Harry sighed heavily. "Have you ever heard the term 'home-court advantage'?"

"Right. That's why *you* should play white."

"All right. Let's flip for it. Heads I play white, tails you play white."

Ting!

"All right. I'll play white." Percy sighed, handing the black pieces to Harry.

After they'd finished setting up the board, Percy said, "Apparently, the book somehow actively coaches. It says in chapter two to do this," he pulled out his wand and tapping it gently on the book, incanted, "vigoro liber."

Their eyes widened as two buds formed on the front of the book, one in the exact center of the book, the other parallel to it, nearer the bottom. The buds grew larger, and the way the book seemed to rise up tilted, Harry supposed that matching buds must be shooting forth from the back of the book as well.

The buds lengthened, and sprouted hands from the higher ones, and feet from the lower ones. Then, somehow, bending in the middle, the book struggled it its feet, the binding side forming the 'back' and the page side forming the 'front.'

"I am General Robert E. Lee, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, and I'm here to teach you," the front of the book twisted a little, seeming to look from Harry to Percy and back. "Both of y'all, how to play chess."