"I know the introductory stuff about most things. I tend to prefer furniture more than trinkets and objects. I can still tell you something about most things, of course, such as age, condition, and approximate value, but I wouldn't hang my hat on it without consulting someone. I don't have the experience and practical knowledge of someone who has been in the industry fifty years." Audrey explained as she led Percy through a small market town. The fourth or third that they had stopped in.

"Naturally not but you do this to learn don't you," Percy responded.

"Oh yes, and it's one of the best times to be here. I've got a chap I need to speak to. Do you want to meet me in half an hour? I'll show you where his shop is, then if you want to browse the market then meet me at the shop, I can go around afterwards. Or I'll find you if you're not there when I finish." Audrey offered.

"Yes of course," Percy said. "I'll see if I can find us somewhere for lunch, shall I? Or will we need to be back on the road? Who is this chap? Is he a regular dealer?"

"Lunch would be lovely. We've done a few deals that have been profitable, and we're hoping that Monsieur Moreau might agree to become a contact in this area and then we can drop it from the tour."

"That would be a shame, it is quite beautiful here," Percy said glancing around him at the shaded crooked street. It was full of the romantic charm he had thought were the works of artist impressions. Certainly, parts of France were devoid of charm as progress replaced quaint with indistinguishable, and steel and glass took over the skyline. This little town with its older architecture and colourful window boxes had somehow escaped the inexorable march and was still charming.

"Yes, but think we could come here on holiday and appreciate it rather than with work. This is the shop. The market is further down. Take the first left and follow the road until it opens out into the square. I don't expect to be more than half an hour."

Percy nodded and stopped to kiss her before walking away. The sun was warm on his head and shoulders, and Percy let it sink into him, warming him to his bones. England in April was so often drab and dreary. He looked around him with curiosity, the old stone buildings were well cared for, the shutters were all brightly painted and thrown open against the walls. Small metal balconies protruded only wide enough for a single chair. Percy saw some of them were occupied by old French women who sat squinting down into the street, watching the people pass by.

The market was bustling even this early. Percy stepped into the cooler shade of the overhanging canopies and started glancing over the wares. Having been through markets with Audrey had already taught him one or two things. He made sure his politically polite and disinterested mask was in place as he browsed the stalls. Audrey had taught him to pick things up, to turn them over in his hands and feel them, not just look at it from a surface view.

Percy still didn't really have a grasp of everything she'd told him. He had yet to find anything that tempted him enough to try his luck at bargaining, and had been content to watch Audrey haggle for whatever it was she had found. His flat was devoid of nicknaks, he wasn't overly sentimental about things. He had a few bits he'd picked up from the shops when he had purchased his furniture, but they were primarily practical pieces. They held no charm and Percy felt no deep attraction to them.

He admired a decanter set at a stall he passed, pausing to pick it up. It felt weighty, the glass was heavily cut, it was a pretty thing. Percy noticed that there were three short tumblers with the matching pattern cut into the glass sat by the decanter and he rooted around looking to see if there were more. There were, but he found the last glass of six had a large chip on the rim. He let his disappointment show to the stall owner who had offered a few words. Percy shook his head and repeated. "Je ne parle pas franꞔais." It wasn't an outright lie. He didn't speak French, but the translation charm he cast upon himself every morning in the bathroom meant that he understood the language even if he couldn't speak it.

The stall holder smiled encouragingly and held up a hand. "Cent franc"'

Percy shook his head replacing the decanter with its now assembled tumblers. "Soixante-dix," he offered.

The stall holder grimaced and shook his head. Percy waited patiently for the man to make another offer. He bore the scrutiny as he was weighed up and when the stall holder offered a grudging "Quatre-vingts." Percy held his hand out. The stall owner shook it and gathered the decanter and its glasses together to begin wrapping them. Percy handed over the paper money the Muggles used, accepted his wrapped package with a satisfied nod and moved on. It didn't matter about the chip in the glass although it was helpful as a bargaining tool, he was a wizard after all, a quick spell and it would be fixed. Now he had a lovely decanter and matching tumblers for his fire whiskey.

The next stall held curios that Percy found himself browsing. Silver, gilt and bronze sat about in the form of small statues, goblets, salvers, and other objects. Percy couldn't imagine anyone would want a carriage clock as heavily gilded as the ones set out on the table, and the candlesticks were especially horrendous. If ostentatious had been the aim, then the smith in question had outdone himself. Percy found himself drawn to a small collection of ink bottles. Old, and cloudy at the bottom, never the less they twinkled in the sun that managed to shine between the gaps in the canopies.

Charmed, Percy took a closer look. Some of the bottles were sat on stands, and a small wooden stand with two ink bottles caught his eye. The wood was inlaid in a scroll and flower pattern with recesses for the ink bottles. Carefully Percy removed the bottles to turn it over, looking for some sort of mark. He couldn't see one, but the layer of dirt he could feel under his fingers could conceal it. The stand itself felt sturdy in his hand, the small draw in the front came out smoothly, and there were no visible problems. Percy weighed it up, he could fix and clean the inkstand removing the staining from the bottom of the glass jars. Interesting to look at, it would be practical enough that no one seeing it on his desk at the Ministry would question it.

That decided Percy. They had passed souvenir shop after souvenir shop selling brightly coloured plastic that Percy had no interest in buying. The decanter was practical and would get used, but he would like for his office one memento of his first adult holiday with the woman he was fastꟷ. Well, that bore more consideration. He looked up at the stall holder proffering the inkstand a little in a silent question for the price.

France was as lovely as Audrey had suggested. The weather had blessed them with warm sunny days. Percy had barely touched his magic the entire trip. He had come to appreciate that somethings Muggles were just better at than magical people. There were many things to like about muggles and the way they lived.

Honestly, muggles were tough. When it got hot, they ate ice cream and drank cold drinks. When the seat was uncomfortable after four hours' drive, well, they put up with it. There were no cooling or cushioning charms. In fact, since leaving on his holiday, Percy had barely used his magic. The first night Audrey had surprised him with an open top night tour of the famous Parisian landmarks, and he had subtly cast warming charms on them both before they had left the hotel. But after that, it was a quick translation charm in the bathroom in the morning and nothing else.

Traveling wasn't a small undertaking but the journey was part of the holiday. No uncomfortable floo or portkeys, just time spent in a van with Audrey, watching the countryside pass by as they sped down the roads to their next destination. They had talked, laughed, and listened to the radio. They had sat on the side of French lakes and eaten cheese and bread taking a break from the driving. Or stopped at the side of the road to photograph a particularly charming vista. They had travelled on the schedule laid out but had happily delayed or arrived early waiting for the markets to open as whim had taken them. Percy wasn't entirely sure that Audrey's trip was as work-centric as it might have been, but the van was steadily filling as the days passed. He forbore not to ask and risk spoiling the holiday.

In Avignon, Percy collected their bags from the van and knocked a box of glassware over. The resulting crash and tinkling of broken glass had caused him to panic. It had only been as he had summoned the courage to go and find Audrey to tell her of the accident, it had occurred to him he was a wizard. The relief that flooded through him as he recalled he could fix this made his knees weak. Percy had cast a repair and cleaning spell on the glass before applying cushioning charms on the inside of the box to prevent any more accidents.

Percy smiled to himself, able now some four days later to see the humour in the situation. He was sat on a beach staring at the Mediterranean enjoying the warm sun, waiting for Audrey to return from whatever errand she had deemed needed to be done before they left the area.

Audrey finally returned with ice cream. Plopping down in the sand next to him she handed over a cone. "Here, I thought you might like one. Uncle has called. We're to miss the next stop and go a little further out than planned. He's had a call from a contact who has some pieces and Uncle wants me to take a look. You don't mind, do you?"

"No," Percy said between licks of the ice cream. "Where ever you need to go, I am a happy passenger."

"Great," Audrey said. "It's inland from now on then, so any sand castles you were planning will need to be constructed now."

"We have time?"

"About half an hour at most," Audrey said apologetically. "It's not long which is a shame because it is beautiful here, but we'll just have to come back."

"I'd like that," Percy said.

Audrey nodded and leant against him watching the sun sparkle on the Mediterranean as the waves came onto the beach.

After the two weeks were up they returned to England, it felt peculiar to Percy to leave Audrey and apparate home. To use his magic to unpack instead of doing it by hand. To flick a cleaning charm around the flat to get rid of the dust that had accumulated.

The acclimatisation to his return to work went smoothly. Within a week Percy could hardly remember that he had been away. The photographs he had developed turned out well, and he put his favourite picture of himself and Audrey on the beach, in a frame on his bookcase with his newly cleaned and repaired decanter and glasses. The inkstand turned out to be rather pretty under the grime, and Percy regarded it with pleasure as it sat on his desk.

It was his second week back when he heard the news, and it was delivered by the Ministers 'friend and advisor' Lucius Malfoy. Percy didn't like the man. It was nothing to do with the ongoing feud between the Malfoys and Weasleys, it was simply that Lucius Malfoy rubbed Percy up the wrong way. The comments were snide and barbed which Percy could deal with, but Malfoy saw Percy as an extension of his Father and Percy wanted to be seen for himself, not for his family. He strove to become his own person in the eyes of his employer, and for the most part, he had achieved that with the people he worked with, but the moment Lucius Malfoy entered a room Percy was lumped back into being 'one of the Weasley brood'.

Percy left the Minister's office after a briefing on the latest legislation being discussed at the Wizengamot, a meeting the Minister had missed, to find the Malfoy patriarch stood in front of Percy's desk turning the inkstand over in his hands.

"Might I help you Mr Malfoy?" Percy asked as he approached his desk. Lucius looked up at the words.

"Ahh, Mr Weasley, I thought I'd pay my respects to the Minister since I was in the building."

"The Minister has a free quarter of an hour," Percy said checking the appointment book on his desk. "Shall I announce you?"

"Yes, yes," Lucius said vaguely. He looked down at his hands as if only just noticing the inkstand in them, he placed it back on the desk. "An excellent example of Boulle's work don't you think?"

"Yes," Percy replied as he replaced the ink bottles in the stand.

"Where did you find it?"

"France," Percy replied shortly. Lucius raised an eyebrow inviting further information and showing no interest in moving towards the Minister's office.

"I recently passed some vacation time in the south of France." Percy elaborated.

"My wife is an admirer of his work, I did not know you were also."

"I find his marquetry excellent, and France is, of course, the best place to pick up examples of his work. I am sure Mrs Malfoy has found the same."

Lucius eyed him up and down. "Yes, I'm sure she has." He picked up his cane from where it rested against Percy's desk, turning slightly towards the door of the Minister's office.

Percy moved towards the Minister's door as well and slipped through to announce the visitor.

As Percy held the door open for Malfoy to pass, Lucius paused. "You seem to be full of surprises Mr Weasley. Much as your younger brothers I see. It's a shame that unlike you, they were unable to complete their education is it not?"

Percy kept his face as blank as he could as Malfoy swept passed him. Percy promptly pulled the door closed and returned to his desk sitting in his chair blowing out a breath. Audrey had told him of the inkstand's provenance, impressed that it was in good condition and Percy had bought it from the stall holder at a reasonable price. She summarised that the stall owner hadn't realised what he had sold or the price would have been higher. Percy had listened as Audrey told him the best way to clean and care for the piece and had dutifully used the gentlest cleaning charms he knew once he got it home.

It wasn't, however, Malfoy's mention of Percy's unexpected knowledge of Boulle that had him shaken. The only brothers he had that were foolish enough to leave school without their NEWTs were the twins. Worry niggled at Percy. Something had clearly set the twins on this course, and he couldn't think what it would be. He pushed it down. His family was estranged. Whatever the twins were up to was of no concern to him. He wouldn't think about it. If the twins wanted to leave school without their qualifications, then that was up to them. Percy had work to do.

He heard the news in the Ministry canteen when he was eating his lunch. The front of 93 Diagon Alley had been covered. A new shop was opening, and the Ministry workers sat at the next table over were speculating over who had taken the premises and what sort of shop would be opening.

Percy listened with interest and decided that he might walk down Diagon Alley and take a look himself. He hadn't been in the alley for some months as he arrived and left the Ministry each morning via the Muggle entrance. Flourish and Blots took owl orders, and he had no need of Madam Malkin's except for the robes he wore to work, and he had not bought any new ones for some time. He had chosen the cut of the robe he wore himself, it was simple but would also not look out of place as the fashionable cuts came and went. The navy-blue colour didn't make him look sallow or washed out, and the waistcoat and trousers he wore under the cutaway front were Muggle in origin. Percy had bought some waistcoats and matching ties so he could wear the same simple robe. It was a cheaper way of maximising his wardrobe, and he had been gratified that even the dandified Minister Fudge had begrudgingly approved of his work clothes. Lucius Malfoy who routinely sneered at Percy had yet to actually say anything directed at his apparel and Percy had counted that as a huge point in his favour.

Percy left the office at the end of the day, heading to the exit leading to Diagon Alley. The street was bustling with people heading home, and Percy slipped amongst the crowds until he reached the covered front of number 93. He considered the shop front with curiosity. The sheets covered any and all clues as to who might be making their home there. Wondering if he might be able to see through the sheet if he was closer, Percy stepped up to the window.

The wards that sizzled over him made him step back and freeze in place. The wards were a little further out from the shop front than they should be and Percy recognised that they were set to encourage a sense of curiosity while encouraging the witch or wizard to move along and not linger.

Percy's hand came up by itself and broke through the ward line again. The wards washed over him once more. He blinked and turned away, following the magical urging for him to move along. As he did so, he made a fist out of his hand thrusting it deeply into his pocket. Denying the tingle, and feelings it evoked. He hadn't realised that he missed it.

It had felt like home, like belonging, like loss. It had felt like Weasley magic.