A/N: Dear readers and reviewers - thanks so much for taking the time to give me feedback! As always, your comments are soo appreciated!! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I had fun writing it. Definitely good to delve a little deeper into the Percy/Penelope dynamic. As you can tell the story parallels OotP, but their own story is starting to spin as well. Hope you enjoy!
Of course, it's all JK Rowlings…
***
It was a rainy Saturday. The perfect morning to do nothing but lie around in your pajamas. Penelope tucked her toes under a blanket on her loveseat and propped her Advanced Healing Potions text against a pillow. Percy sat at her small table munching on his fourth piece of toast, his long legs stretched into a second chair. He had given the Daily Prophet a once over then casually surveyed the rest of her mail.
"Here's your Gringott's report, Pen."
She waved him off with a flip of her wrist.
"Don't you want to see it?"
"Not really," she muttered, "you tell me what's in it."
Percy gave her a wry look as he broke the seal on the report. He flipped through the pages several times before reaching for a quill and parchment, then leaned over the table to figure intensely, his glasses slipping to the end of his nose.
"Penelope, how much do pay for this flat?"
"30 Galleons a month. Why?"
He shook his head without answering and continued to turn over the pages from Gringotts, scratching quietly away. After several more minutes he cast her a suspicious look.
"How much are you spending a month at the Apothecary?"
"Gosh, I don't know, Percy. Is something wrong?"
He agitatedly tapped the quill on the table several times. "Come over here and sit down, Pen."
With a huff she marked her place in the book and joined him at the table.
"Penelope, you're running out of money."
"What do you mean?" she said, jerking the paper from his hand.
"Well by my calculations you've got enough to last you through Christmas but that's about it."
"Wait that's not right. Grandmother gave me a nice lump sum. She said it was enough for the whole year."
"Penny, how much was that cupboard over there?" Percy asked sternly.
"Well, it was kind of expensive, but I couldn't find a used one the right size and I had to have it, Percy, I just didn't have room for everything."
"How about that rug, and that painting, and that new muggle dress?"
"Last night you said you liked that dress," Penelope snapped.
Percy took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes and forehead, and took a deep breath. "Penelope Anne Constance Clearwater, you are spoiled."
"Excuse me?"
"You are spoiled. My mother could have made that amount of money last for nine people for two years."
"Your mother!" Penelope stood up quickly, "Well, maybe you should go have your toast and jam with her then!" she said as she slammed the door to the bedroom with a resounding thud.
Percy threw the Daily Prophet across the room and banged his head on the table. It wasn't so much that he was angry with her, after all, he had known her for four years now, he knew her faults. It was just that money had always been their big issue. No matter how hard he tried, he would always be the poor boy and she would always be the heiress. As much as he loved her, he would not live off of Clearwater money and if he was going to ask her to marry him, that complicated things immensely.
"Penny, don't pout, it's unattractive," he shouted at the bedroom door. "Look, if you're going to spend Saturday locked in the bedroom, I'm going to work, so I'm coming in to get my clothes…Alohamora."
The door opened, then slammed back in his face. "You think I can't apparate into the bedroom?" he yelled.
"Why don't you try?" she yelled back.
Percy popped into the bedroom and had just enough time to register that she was sitting on the middle of the bed with a satisfied look on her face before he felt himself doused in cold water.
"Why Mr. Weasley, you're all wet," she smiled smugly. "Don't pout, Percy, it's unattractive."
"You little…I ought to turn you over my knee."
"Is that a threat or a promise?"
In one fell swoop he dove for her. He was skinny but he was quick and having five brothers had taught him a few things in the wrestling department. After some screaming and laughing and rolling around on the bed, he managed to pin her beneath him. And then he did what any other red-blooded boy in wet pajamas would do, he kissed her until she couldn't breath.
"Percy, we're having a fight," she said as she pulled away.
"Oh yeah," he panted, "I forgot, what was that about?"
"You called me spoiled."
"Did I?"
"Stop it. You know very well what it was all about." Penelope untangled herself from beneath him and scooted back against the headboard. "Now listen, I have something to tell you. I've made a decision. I'm going to get a job."
Percy began to laugh, "You are, are you? Doing what?"
"Well, I haven't quite worked that part out yet, but I will."
"Penelope, you're in school at St. Mungo's."
"Other people work and go to school."
"Yes, but…"
"Well then I can too…I will not ask Grandmother for another dime."
She sat with her arms crossed across her white eyelet nightgown, her hair messed and her jaw set. He had always been amazed by how she could seem so tough and so delicate all at the same time. His unbreakable china doll.
"Oh, Pen, I know you mean well, but you don't understand what you are saying. Not having money is hard, darling, and it hurts. It's not romantic. Penelope, I love you, but you've never had to go without, you don't know what it feels like."
"Well that's about to change."
"Penelope, in two years the entire Clearwater fortune is going to be yours."
"I know, all the more reason for me to do this. I need to figure out what I'm going to do with a fortune from a world I don't belong in. I can't make good decisions if I'm a spoiled rich girl."
He reached for her hand. "You are amazing and I love you. The truth is, I wish I could spoil you. If only I could, I'd buy you everything your heart desires."
She smiled and pushed the wet hair off his face, "My heart only desires you."
"Lucky you, you've already got that."
***
She had watched him for a full year, the red-headed Gryffindor prefect. He was interesting. She knew he made excellent grades. He was frequently in the library and she had noticed that Madam Pince seemed to like him. He would help her gather books from the empty carrels and sometimes he re-shelved things for her. He seemed very protective of the first year Gryffindors. He was always trying to help them succeed, even if he did come across a little bossy at times. And he was not bad looking. Not what you would call handsome, but he had a few nice parts, nice eyes, a straight nose, square shoulders.
It was the fact that she had noticed him that made that night in the library so horrible, so mortifyingly miserable.
The simple explanation was that she was exhausted - exams, sleepless nights, pressure to make the grades. She had drifted off in the study carrel and fallen asleep on her book. Goodness knows other people did it. The problem was that what she did, what she said in her sleep could sometimes be disconcerting. She, of course, was used to her nightmares and the Ravenclaws in her year no longer mentioned them. So when he woke her that night from her whimpering she thought he had a lot of nerve.
"Excuse me, you need to wake up. The library is closing. Excuse me, um wake up."
He stood over her and she was confused and disoriented. He must have seen this in her eyes for he said, "You were having a bad dream."
"That's none of your business," she snapped.
"Fine. The library's closing. You need to get back to your dorm."
She stood and began to clear her books, but she was shaking. One minute she had been in a familiar misery, the next she was being embarrassed by this boy.
"Here, let me help you," he offered.
"No, no thank you. I've got it just fine. Sorry if I disturbed you, Mr. Weasley."
"Percy."
"Whatever," she said and she stalked off.
It was a few days later when she saw him looking at her and she was furious. How dare he stare at her across the Great Hall. He probably thought she was a freak. He'd probably told those silly little brothers of his and they'd tell everyone in the quidditch locker room. A nice little laugh they'd have about her moaning in her sleep. She didn't even want to think about the content of that conversation. Well screw them all and screw him. Who did he think he was, coming into her study carrel, anyway? A simple knock on the door would have done the trick. She was not going to let any self-centered, pompous, kind of cute, prefect intimidate her.
She strode toward him in the library. He glanced at her once but quickly looked back to his book. She flung the newspaper on top of his parchment. Ah ha! She had frightened him. Good. He looked completely taken aback. But people were looking. No need to cause a huge scene, so she sat down across from him and hissed, "That's me. That's what I dream about. So, go ahead and laugh at that, Mr. Weasley."
He looked at her like she had three heads. "What??"
And with a huge rush of horror, she realized she'd been wrong. Oh no, what had she just done? He hadn't talked or laughed about her. Why would he talk about her? He probably didn't even know her name. She was an idiot. She sat across from him making little fish movements with her mouth, while he picked up the muggle newspaper and began to read.
Clearwater Dies in Crash, Miracle Child Survives
London, Glasgow - Edmund Henry Clearwater III, 45, member of Parliament died Saturday when his plane crashed shortly after take off from a private air strip just outside Kent. The Clearwater family was leaving their summer home to visit family and attend to business in Glasgow. Also killed in the crash were Clearwater's wife, Priscilla, 38, son, Edmund IV, 12, and pilot Andrew Hammond, 33. Clearwater's daughter, Penelope, 7, the sole survivor of crash, was found hours later wandering in a field not far from the crash site. Dr. Benjamin Crawley of Kent examined the child. "It is a miracle unlike anything I've seen in fifty years of practicing medicine. The child is not even scratched and the impact of this crash was devastating."
Clearwater, was president of Clearwater Holdings and had followed his late father Edmund Clearwater II into Parliament in 1982. A full investigation into the cause of the crash is pending.
"You apparated?" he whispered.
She nodded.
"Do you remember it?"
"Perfectly. I dream it over and over again. My mother was whispering she loved me and to hold her tight and I was wishing I was safe in my own room and then all of a sudden, I was. I fell asleep in my own bed and when I woke back up, I was in a dark field and they were all gone. I had saved myself but I couldn't save them."
"You were a child," he said. He starred at her for a long time. She could tell his mind was working but his expression was difficult to read. At last he spoke. "Ice cream."
"What?"
"Would you like some ice cream?" He blushed then added quickly, "I'm a prefect you know, I uh, I know a few things."
"You know how to get ice cream?"
He nodded mutely. She had no idea what was happening with this red-headed boy, but she knew where ever he was going she wanted to go too.
"Ice cream would be lovely. Lead on Mr. Weasley."
"Percy," he said.
***
At first he didn't know why he was waking. He was very warm and had kicked most of the covers off. Then he heard her next to him. She tossed and muffled cries were coming from her chest, as if she was trying to call out but couldn't open her mouth. The wave of memory swept over him and he knew. He'd only experienced it that one time in the library but he would never forget it. During those horrible weeks when she was petrified he had been so worried, afraid she was trapped in a nightmare from which she couldn't escape.
This whole sleeping together thing was still new and he felt completely responsible to do everything exactly right. He lit the lamp and tried to wake her gently, but calling her name and stroking her hair was not enough. He physically sat her up and she grabbed roughly at him, but her eyes fluttered open.
"You're OK. It was a bad dream. See? You're safe in your own bed. I'm going to get you a glass of water."
When he returned, she accepted the glass with a shaking hand.
"Were you on the plane?" he asked.
She nodded as she wiped the tears and drank down the water.
"Penelope, I thought the nightmares had stopped."
"They had," she said finding her voice. "I haven't had one in years and then all of sudden they started back last week. Except now they're different."
"How are they different?"
"Well, when I was younger, I just relived the crash over and over. I saw my mother and my brother. I felt the plane falling. I felt their fear and panic. But in this new dream, the plane isn't crashing and I'm not me, I'm…I'm my mother, I guess. And there is another child sitting beside me and as we are flying along the child just disappears. I start to panic because I know something horrible has happened to the child, but I can't get off the plane to find him…her…that's the other strange thing, every time I have the dream I see a different child. This time it was a little boy with very blonde hair."
"You've been under a lot of stress, a lot of big changes in your life. This is a very natural...."
"No…it's not natural. It's evil. It's danger. I don't know how to explain it, Percy, but the dream means something. Something is happening to the children. Do you believe me?"
Percy tucked her back under the covers and his mind wandered over the evil he knew was growing every day. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I believe you, darling. Now close your eyes and go back to sleep."
***
Seven o'clock. The Ministry was just beginning to hum with morning activity. He had to admit, as much as he hated his current circumstances, he loved this place. He had loved it since he was a little boy. It bustled with energy. He loved the pace of it, the variety of it, everyone moving with a purpose.
It was Thursday, which meant tomorrow was Friday, which meant the weekend and seeing Penelope, which was good. No queues had formed yet and he walked with a happy brisk pace through the lobby, through security and onto the lift.
"Good morning, Weasley."
"Good morning, Shacklebolt."
"You seem in a chipper mood."
"Well, it's almost the weekend and payday, you know."
"Big plans for your check, boy?"
"Maybe."
"Don't spend it all on women and the pub."
"As if." Percy gave him his hautiest glare, but Shaklebolt only laughed deeply and exited the lift as Percy continued upward another level. The intercom voice spoke sweetly, Level One, Executive Suite, Offices of the Minister of Magic.
Percy's first stop was Miss Maura Daugherty. The elderly receptionist had been at the Ministry for 25 years. He had figured out very quickly that the plump witch with bright orange hair was someone you wanted on your side.
"Good morning, Miss Maura."
"Good mornin', Percy dear. He wants to see you right away."
"Already?"
"Yes, I don't know what's going on, but whatever it is, he's in a bit of a stew over it. Memo's flying in and out of this office like you wouldn't believe. See, here comes one now." She opened the flying memo, read it quickly, then handed it to Percy. "This has something to do with the Wizengamot. He's in there right now with Umbridge and Madam Bones. You better go, dearie. Take that memo with you."
Percy scooted quickly past her through a second door, grabbed a quill and parchment off his own little desk and entered Fudge's private office. Madam Umbridge and Madam Bones sat in large red velvet chairs across from Fudge. Umbridge was looking peculiarly smug while Madam Bones looked serious.
"Weasley, you're here."
"Yes sir, this memo just arrived for you."
Fudge surveyed the paper. "Good, that's the last one. Weasley, it has become necessary to change the time and location of the Potter hearing. The Wizengamot will be meeting in courtroom ten in exactly 45 minutes. We have sent an owl to the Potter boy to inform him of the change. I want you to prepare your parchment and quills. You will be court scribe."
"Yes sir."
Take minutes, Weasley, I want to review with Madam Bones and Madam Umbridge our procedure for this hearing.
"Yes sir, of course."
Percy thought they would never stop. He was sure Professor Dumbledore and Harry did not know of the time change. He scribbled away and silently watched the large mantle clock tick. At last at ten till eight Fudge rose to put on his most elegant robe and Umbridge and Bones left the office. Percy slipped out behind them and rushed to his desk.
He pulled out his phoenix feather quill and scribbled a note containing the time and location change to Professor Dumbledore. As always, the words faded from his paper as soon as he wrote them.
What to do next? He couldn't send a message to Grimauld Place, it was too late and would be too dangerous, anyway. If they hadn't left yet, they'd be in serious trouble. Maybe his Dad was on his way. He scribbled an unsigned interdepartmental memo to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department, marked it urgent in huge red letters and sent it flying. He gathered up an armful of quills and rolls of parchment just as Fudge and Umbridge emerged from their offices. With a silent nod, he followed them to the Executive Office express lift.
Witches and wizards filed into the courtroom. Why in the world would they want to have a hearing in this awful old place, Percy thought as the time ticked by 8:01, 8:05.
"If he does not show up for his hearing…" Fudge began.
"Patience, Minister, I have plenty of time," Madam Bones interjected.
Finally at 8:10 the door burst open and a very young and very frightened looking Harry Potter was thrust into the room. Percy said a silent prayer of gratitude. He could not look at Harry. He could not give himself away and so he fixed his eyes downward on his parchment.
A minute later, Professor Dumbledore walked calmly into the room and he knew Harry had a chance. Still, Fudge hammered away about Harry's Patronus and his voice rose angrily, as the wizards around Percy murmured their agreement.
'Get mad Harry,' Percy thought. 'Tell them the truth. Tell them about the dementors.' He looked straight at Harry, raised his eyebrows, and gave a smug nod. It worked. Harry burst forth about the dementors. Who would have thought, years of goading little brothers would come in so handy.
At long last, it was over. Fudge and Umbridge left in a huff and Percy knew the rest of the day was going to be pure hell. He gathered his quills and parchment and allowed everyone else to leave in front of him. He could see his father with Harry waiting beside the door. His father's head was bowed as the crowd moved out.
Now came the hardest part of this charade. Percy kept his eyes in front of him and felt his body tense as he walked by. For a split second he thought his father almost smiled as he passed, but then it was gone and he climbed alone up the stone steps and out of the dungeon.
***
He sat by himself at the end of the bar in the Owl's Nest and ordered a pint. What a miserable day. He knew he'd messed up last year with Mr. Crouch. He had been really foolish. But dammit, he'd run that department. Now, he was reduced to being Fudge's errand boy, taking notes and picking up freshly laundered robes. At least leaky cauldron bottoms had had a point.
He missed his Mum. He closed his eyes and imagined a wonderful Weasley spread, cornish hen, ham, potatoes and carrots, sheperd's pie, and berry trifle. When he opened his eyes his ale was on the counter and a stranger in a black hooded cloak had taken the stool next to him. He raised the ale to his lips just as the stranger said, "That one's on me."
In the golden bubbles of his glass, he saw a phoenix form, spread its wings and burst into flame. He turned to look at the hooded stranger. A twinkling eye behind half moon glasses winked at him.
"Thanks," Percy smiled looking straight ahead.
"You saved us today."
"Barely."
"Still, you did it."
Percy took another swig of ale. "How are the rabbits?"
"Ah, they are well. Celebrating tonight, because of you."
He felt a lonely pang, "That's good. I'm glad."
"Well," the stranger rose from his stool, "I must be going, enjoy your pint."
"Wait," Percy said. An small inner voice had been nagging at him, making him uneasy, "There is something else. It's probably nothing, really, but my…my…friend is having dreams. Dreams of children disappearing."
"Really?"
"Yes, she believes it's some sort of sign."
The man in the cloak sighed, "She's not the only one."
"What?"
"Mother rabbit has had them too."
Percy turned to him as the blood drained from his face. "But…but what does it mean?"
The man pulled the hooded robe tightly around him. "I wish I knew," he said, and then, he was gone.