A/N: And me, the evil non-updater returns. I am so sorry guys... though I'm sure you'd rather wait for something okay than something I struggled with my usual problem of, you guessed it, writer's block. So, here we are. Sorry about the cliffhanger. All sorted out now.
Pansy could feel Percy's hand shaking as the picture formed in the bowl. He was swallowing hard, sweat appearing on his forehead as he stared into it.
Fred passed George the salt, which George studied with interest. "Isn't this the chocolate flavoured salt we made yesterday?" George whispered curiously, staring at the pot. Fred shrugged.
"You can have chocolate salt on chips," Fred decided, turning to fill his glass with water.
Percy looked up at Pansy, but she was looking into the bowl, avoiding his eyes. He looked back down.
Arthur sat down at the head of the table. Harry Potter was seated where Percy used to sit, right in-between Ron and Ginny. "How was your day Arthur?" Molly asked, carrying over a plate of chicken.
"Very good thank you," Arthur replied, as Molly sat down. "Actually, I was talking to Percy today." Ron spat his drink back into his glass, and stared at his father. Ginny raised her eyebrows at him.
"Sorry," Ron muttered. "But I thought we weren't talking about him anymore." Arthur ignored what his son had said.
"It wasn't really a conversation. He had to give me some papers. I think he wanted to say something, but I didn't want to hear it."
"You turned your back to him?" Molly asked, upset. "I thought we were going to give him a chance?"
"I've given up hope Molly. I don't care what he does anymore. There was a time when I would take him back with open arms but now... he did something I told him he should never do. He abandoned his family. I can't forgive that."
The family around the table turned to silence, even Fred and George, as they ate their meal.
The image in the bowl blurred, and Percy felt tears pricking his eyes. He hadn't cried since he cut his leg when he was ten. After that, he thought he was beyond crying. He was too proud to cry.
He felt Pansy place her hand over his, but he did not look away from the bowl. "Why did you show me that?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"I didn't know what it would show, except that it would be what you truly wanted to see in real time... I wanted you to know that they talk about you."
"And how would you know they talked about me!" Percy shouted, standing up, pushing the chair backwards. "How would you know? You don't know my family, you don't even know me Pansy!"
The barman looked up from cleaning the bar, watching the scene unfold in front of him. "Percy, I was thinking of you I swear..." This was the first time Percy had ever seen her weak. Defeated.
"You did Pansy! Just leave me alone." Percy turned on his heel and left the bar. Pansy swallowed back her tears, slammed some money onto the table, before running out after him.
The rain was just beginning, as Percy looked like a small, retreating figure as he stormed angrily down the road. "Percy wait!" Pansy shouted, holding onto a nearby wall.
"I have nothing to say to you!" he called back, not bothering to turn around. Pansy leant against the wall, deep in thought. "Screw you then," she muttered.
-
Percy turned to his side to face the window. He always used to struggle sleeping when he was younger but he thought he was over that. He thought back to a few weeks ago when his father had got a new desk. A picture of the family in Egypt had been on it. Would it still be there?
Percy tried to remember the scene when he spoke to his dad that day, or was it the day before? He glanced at the clock. 2:03 am. He'd been awake for since he got in at eleven that evening, after two hours of walking around.
Should he have heard Pansy out? Maybe, just maybe, she didn't know exactly what was going to happen. Maybe he should have forgiven her. All he knew was that he shouldn't have lost his temper like that. "I'm sorry Pansy," he muttered into his pillow, again turning.
-
He had managed to get to sleep he noted, as he opened his eyes to the bright sun in his window. He blinked, before seeing the owl. A small fluffy white one, with glowing orange eyes.
Percy groaned, before standing up to let it in. He retrieved the letter it held in its beak and it flew away to the sky beyond.
Percy. Sorry. Going to the Bloody Toad again tonight. I hope to see you. We need to talk. I apologise for everything, but we can talk right? Bye. Pansy xxx
Yes, Percy supposed, they could talk, but if this included talking to each other, it was an entirely different story. The note looked like it had been written quickly, but her handwriting was neat, just the same.
Percy tilted his head, studying it. When he was in his third year at Hogwarts, he became interested in handwriting. He wondered if showed what a person was really like. He studied various samples, but came to the conclusion it showed nothing about a person, but the speed in which they wrote it.
She was obviously in a hurry. Percy had to admit that he had been thinking about writing her something, but he hadn't been sure what to say. But now, he had to say something. To her face. He would tell her what he felt and maybe she would begin to open up about herself to him. Maybe they could each forgive each other.
-
He saw her instantly. Her head resting on her hand, as she started at the wall in front of her. Even with her back turned, he knew who it was. "Pansy," Percy muttered, walking cautiously toward her.
He saw her look up suddenly and turn to face him. "I didn't think you were gonna show," she admitted, looking nervous.
"I had to," he told her, walking around the table to face her. "So, what do we need to talk about?" Percy asked, watching her expressions as she looked down at her red, chipping nail varnish.
"I suppose I should apologise. I only wanted to help you. You've got to believe me." Percy nodded.
"I do believe you. I just wish you'd told me what would happen, at least give me a say in the matter," Percy said, as she sighed and smiled at him.
"Thank you," she told him. "I won't do that again, I swear."
"Good," he responded. "Pansy... I've been wondering something. The night after we met, you told me that you weren't helping me for selfless reasons. What were those selfish reasons? And for that matter, how do you get all this money?"
He really did wish he hadn't said anything when she suddenly burst into tears. Percy had seen women at their most vulnerable. Mainly Penelope. She used to cry. Not often, but when she did, Percy used to take her in his arms, stroke her hair, tell her it would all be okay.
She used to kiss him gently, the tears still falling freely down her face. That was before Marcus Flint had his say in their relationship. He always liked to overpower people, and eventually, the sexy, seductive Slytherin charmed Penelope. She left Percy alone, and at his most defenceless. It was then when he had abandoned his family. He had seen his life with her.
Apparently she was dead now. She wasn't even given a proper grave. Her family had left her well alone when the found out that she was serving the Dark Lord. One of the few Ravenclaws that turned to serve him. One of few. She always liked to be unique.
This was a new situation to be in. He wasn't in love with Pansy and he certainly wasn't in anyway in a relationship with her. What did she do when he was upset? She'd hold his hand. He wanted to reach for hers, but they were hidden underneath her face as she sobbed into them.
He stood up, and walked behind her, and gently stroked her hair, as he used to do with Penelope. Her hair was courser than Penelope's had been, but shone more. She didn't react to his touch as Penelope used to do. She just sat there crying.
Percy knelt down beside her. "Pansy," he whispered. "Please don't cry. I don't know what to say or do. I'm not used to comforting people other than myself."
"Just-just-just stay with me," Pansy managed to blurt out, feeling completely lost at everything that was going on around her. Percy nodded, even though he knew she wasn't looking at him. "Hold me," she muttered.
Percy took a deep breath, as he put his arm around her. After a few moments, his knees began to hurt from kneeling on the floor. "Pansy, I'm sorry, I need to stand up, my knees hurt." She giggles slightly, sniffing.
"Sorry," she muttered, so quietly he almost didn't hear her.
"It's fine." He stood up, but let his hand resting on her back. She finally lifted her head to look at him.
"I didn't mean to get all emotional, but when you remember things that I said... no one ever remembers what I say. In Slytherin I was also seen but never heard, but I had such views on things but no one wanted to listen. At home, we could never speak out of turn. I kept a diary. I still do... would you like to see?"
"Isn't that a bit of an invasion of personal space?" Percy asked, taking a seat opposite her. Pansy shrugged, and pulled it out of her pocket.
"I carry it everywhere. It's not really... written stuff. Just, odds and ends." Cautiously, Percy opened it at its middle pages. He looked at the various photos, which had been stuck in, various comments beside them. He turned a page, and saw a picture of Pansy, sitting on the edge of the lake at Hogwarts.
"That's a very professional photo," Percy said, looking at it with interest. Pansy nodded, and then giggled softly in amusement.
"Dean Thomas took it for me. He has such an eye for art and pictures." Percy looked up, startled.
"Wasn't he a Gryffindor?" Pansy smiled.
"He was a nice guy. Always willing to draw and take pictures for me." She leaned over and turned another page. "He drew that picture of me in Transfiguration one day. He told me that I looked so upset, and thought I needed cheering up."
Percy turned another page, and confronted some small, but elaborate drawings of flowers in beautiful, curvy patterns. "I drew them," Pansy told him. "It was the design I made for one of Draco Malfoy's notebooks. I drew it on the front myself." A few more pages were turned, and Percy read a few words.
Loneliness is the feeling you feel when you are alone. Feeling alone just happens to be the best way to be.
Percy frowned. "You like poetry?" he asked.
"I write some," Pansy told him. "I was always so bad at Potions and other lessons, but I liked to draw and write things. That's what my dairy was for. Drawing and writing poems."
"You're very talented," Percy said, as he looked at a picture of the Great Hall. The Slytherins were drawn with glaring eyes, the Dark Mark staring from their arms. 'Killers' was written on their table. The Ravenclaws had books on the table, with 'Betrayal' written across it. The Hufflepuffs were wearing tatty clothes, with 'peace makers' on their table. The Gryffindors however, stood out more than the others. One their table was written 'unexplainable'.
Pansy raised her eyebrows, noting his interest in that particular picture. "What?" she asked him.
"It's very unusual," he said. She shrugged.
"It's just how I felt. Dean had given me the picture, and Draco and been talking about the Dark Lord's latest killing. A Hufflepuff had been sorting out a fight between Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley. And well, I heard about Penelope Clearwater that day, and how she had died, and..." Percy bit his lip. "Oh god, you dated her!"
Percy sighed. "I'm over it now." Pansy nodded.
"Thanks for today. You've been fantastic." She stood up, walked over to him and leant over and hugged him. He patted her back cautiously but then allowed his hand to rest on her back. She pulled away and kissed his cheek. "Walk me home?" she asked.
Percy stood up and picked his jacket up from the back of his seat. "Sure." She smiled, and they both walked out of the restaurant.