First Day of School

A/N:  Kristen Mimswell belongs to me, thank you very much; any and all other characters you may or may not recognize belong to J.K. Rowlings.  Percy, unfortunately, is included in those characters that are owned by J.K. Rowlings, but let me remind you all - Percy is MINE!  Penelope Clearwater can go to – [CENSOR!] for all I care!  And now, without further ado, the next chapter!  Joy!

Cracking his neck once to the left then once more to the right, Percy picked up his book bag and, ignoring the other laughing and excited fourth years, made his way out of his dormitory.  "Annoying prats," he muttered under his breath and embarked on his descent down the staircase, footsteps thudding briskly as he made his way down the crimson-carpeted, spiraling staircase.

            He alighted off the last step and began walking across the common room quickly with his head down, not wishing to attract any attention from his brothers or anyone else for that matter. 

His black robes swishing around his ankles, he stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady and swung it open, much to her disdain.  With a "Good morning, young Percy!", he carefully stepped over the threshold and swung the portrait back, giving the Fat Lady a curt nod in return for her greeting.

It was still early, but being the Percy we all know and love, he wanted to arrive to his class early so as to make a clean start to his next year. 

            He stopped momentarily just outside the statue of the One-Eyed Witch to pull his schedule out from his bag.  Glancing over it quickly, he was about to place it back when he heard a familiar voice call out to him: "Percy!"  Blinking his icy-colored gaze a couple of times in surprise, he lowered the schedule and looked up in the direction of the voice just in time to see Kristen walking over to him almost shyly, her midnight-colored robes swishing softly even after she stopped a couple of feet in front of him. 

            Percy looked at Kristen for several moments in recollection, his expression full of surprise as he hadn't seen her since the train.  "Kristen..," he smiled.  "Hello..haven't seen you around."  Then, almost as an afterthought, he added quickly, "What house did you get placed in?"  She thought for a split-second, "Ravenclaw," she answered.  Percy nodded.  So hat was why he hadn't seen her around.  Members from different houses rarely ever saw each other; unless, of course, they made a point to. "What  house are you in, Percy?", she asked him, "I haven't see you until just now."  She looked around a while before finally resting her stormy-colored gaze back onto him.  "I don't really know a lot of people here..except you, of course." 

            Percy's cheekbones reddened slightly as her gray eyes met with his pale blue ones and he cleared his throat mildly.  "I'm in Gryffindor," he replied.  "The houses each have different common rooms, so the members in each don't really associate with others very much..," he continued, surprised to find a hint of regret in his voice.

            "Oh." She replied, lowering her eyes to his hand him, spotting his schedule.  "Do the houses have any classes together?", she inquired, raising her eyes from the schedule and meeting his again.  He nodded a quick affirmation and looked back at his schedule.  "Ravenclaw, you say?" letting his eyes skim over the schedule.  "M'hmm." She responded, watching him as she waited for an answer. 

            Percy put away the schedule and looked back up at Kristen.  "Well, we have double Potions and History together," he said, flashing her a smile grin which she returned.  "We have Potions, first, don't we?" she asked.  He nodded and quickly glanced at his watch, seeing they had a little under ten minutes to get to class.  Looking up, he also noticed that most of the students had come out of their common rooms and were going toward their classes.  Looking back at Kristen he asked, "Shall we go?"  She smiled and nodded once, a slight tinge on her cheeks – probably from the excitement of the first day, Percy reasoned. 

            So the two slung their book bags over their shoulders once more and walked, side by side, down the stairs toward the dungeons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Percy sat at his desk in his two-bedroom apartment, in the the second which he used for his office-away-from-office sort of place.  He cracked his knuckles, his eyes behind his thin-framed glasses cast down upon the dark-colored wooden desk. 

            Sighing, he reached up and took off his glasses, setting them down in a corner of his desk silently.  Reaching up with his right hand, he rubbed his right temple, absent-mindedly humming "Moonlight Sonata" and was about an eighth of the way through it before he realized what he was doing and stopped, quickly reaching out and putting his glasses back on.

            Growling under his breath, he picked up a sleek, silvery-feathered quill and poised it over the parchment in front of him and let it hang there a moment. 

He blinked, still holding the quill and tried to remember what exactly he had been writing. 

Very suddenly, Percy jumped up off of the chair. "Oh, forget it!" he shouted aloud to no one and threw the quill down on top of the parchment, suddenly very aware of the color and pigment of the quill.  He blinked once more.  "Dear lord..," he muttered and squeezed his eyes shut in attempt to block out a mental flash of sparkling grey eyes. 

Percy opened his frosty eyes once more letting them stray over to the quill on his desk. 

The desk was a dark, almost black, wood – oakwood to be precise.  It held a green lamp in the right corner, a stack of papers in the left corner, and various office supplies such as a stapler, ink, quills and parchment strewn neatly around the desk.  He had had the light on, but he turned it off now and, walking over to the window, opened the blinds letting in a wave of moonlight that showered the room it its pale glow.

 "It's been nearly ten years," he informed himself, sitting down once more at the desk.  Then, realizing he had spoken aloud, he licked his lips and lowered his gaze to the quill and parchment in front of him.  Ten years!  And besides that, you weren't even sure it was her!, he thought to himself, almost in a scolding manner.  You catch sight of the girl – woman, he corrected himself, and you fall to pieces!  He shut his eyes and shook his head, suddenly aware that he had been clenching his fists so hard, his nails were beginning to dig into his flesh.  Opening his eyes, he raised a hand to his glasses and took them off, laying them down on the table once more.

Looking at his palm, he examined the marks on it, glad to see that he hadn't broken skin.  You weren't even sure it was her, the thought repeated itself.  But he remembered the contours of her face; remembered the pigment of her eyes.

He was lying to himself by saying he wasn't sure it was her, of course.  Deep down, Percy knew it was her.  One look at those eyes was all he needed.  It had been at the ministry in the lobby.  She was at the counter; most likely applying for a vacant position. 

He leaned back against the plush, olive-green seat, his eyes raised to the fuzzy-looking ceiling above.  He sat there for a while, just how long he wasn't sure.  "Tomorrow, I'll go to the office and make it my business to know what positions are open," he finally said.  Rubbing his palms together, he leaned forward, the back of the chair erecting itself.  "Kris – Kristen..Mimswell." 

Leaning back in the reclining seat, he wondered just how long it had been since he let her name escape from his lips. 

Farther away in the village, the great clock struck midnight, it's rumbling tones drowning out the playing of "Moonlight Sonata" a young woman was playing in a small house a few miles away from the apartment of Percival Weasley.