A.N.: Alright lovelies. Here's another chapter for this story. You might or might not like the direction this is taking. If you don't then you have my muse to blame. Writing this was out of my comfort zone as well, but here we are, with me nervously biting my nails as I'm about to publish this. Well, we'll see how it goes.

Chapter 18: A different kind of comfort

Three weeks later, Percy had found that things had changed for him and Hermione since that passionate morning. Hermione treated him much more affectionately now, and Percy enjoyed every little touch or smile from her. From time to time she would kiss him good morning or rest her head against his shoulder while she was reading or petting Crookshanks on the sofa. He, too, found himself seeking out her kisses from time to time or taking her hand as they walked through the streets of London. Hermione accepted his touch without hesitation and would even smile at him whenever he showed his affection for her in such a way. Slowly Percy felt himself relax, understanding that his touch was no longer unwelcome with her.

His favourite moments were when they woke up together; finding Hermione resting on his shoulder or her back snuggled against him while he was spooning her from behind was a treat he could cherish. It was rare that he woke alone on his side of the bed these days as she seemed to unconsciously seek him out while she was asleep. In those moments Percy found that he truly felt at peace, the time slowing down as he watched the first rays of sunshine lick over his wife's skin. From time to time he would find himself staying in bed a little longer, the work piling on his office desk holding no appeal for him when all that he currently desired was here, in his arms. But he knew he couldn't dawdle and so he often let go of her a few minutes later, sneaking out of bed into his office to get a bit more work done before Hermione woke up. He had promised to take care of her, after all.

Part of being a good husband was making sure Hermione didn't want for anything. And that meant he had to make sure she wasn't putting her own needs second like he'd seen his mother do countless times. Especially with adding children to the picture sooner rather than later, he'd need to work hard and save up some money because he knew he'd be thankful for it when the time came. He knew Hermione could get pregnant any week now— two of his sisters-in-law were already expecting as far as he knew. And even though it was a requirement of the law that they too procreate, he couldn't help but feel terrified at the prospect of adding children to their marriage so soon. Hermione and he had just started to get comfortable with each other, but he could easily see the dynamics of their relationship change once one added children into the mix. But no, Hermione wasn't pregnant yet, and he told himself that they'd cross this particular bridge when they came to it.

To Percy it felt like all their relationship had needed was an air-clearing thunderstorm, wiping away the misunderstandings between them. He certainly made sure to consider the things he had learned during their last fight. He'd still make Hermione a morning drink after he'd learned her preference for the day, but her books or other things she left around the flat he left alone, no matter how much it itched him to put his flat- no their flat- back in order. Luckily Hermione was not a messy person and she would clean up after herself very well, therefore the compromise was easy for him to make. Other things were more difficult to plan and required a lot of patience and networking from his side. But after a small chat with his baby sister (who sought him out a few days after his argument with Hermione) and a few evenings spent with Crooks on his lap, Percy thought the effort would be worth it in the end.

"Hermione? What's wrong?"

Hearing the floo activate, his eyes had automatically sought her out, like they did whenever his beautiful wife entered the room. Usually, when she came home from work, it was with a happy smile and gleaming eyes, but today her face was nothing but a mask of sadness and shame. Something wasn't right, or rather it was very, very wrong.

In a few steps, Percy was at Hermione's side, Crooks jumping from his lap with a yowl before hurrying towards his mistress as well. The animal had detected his mistress' distress as well and like Percy, he was determined to comfort her.

Hermione stumbled a few steps towards him before she froze, a variety of emotions flickering across her face, before she shook her head with a sigh. Percy didn't know what to make of it, he didn't have much experience with comforting a female in distress. But he knew he had to try, not only because he wanted to be a good husband to Hermione, but because his heart yearned to reach out to his wife and to make her feel better.

"It's alright if you don't feel ready to talk," he assured her, gently helping her out of her outer robe. "I'll be here whenever you are. How about a light dinner? Or some wine maybe?"

Hermione shook her head before she walked past him, without giving any words of reply. All Percy heard was a silent sniffle and when he watched her walk through the living room towards the corridor, he could see her wiping her eyes. She was crying, he realised with a sinking heart, suddenly overwhelmed by the situation. What was he supposed to do now? Did her walking away from him mean she didn't want to be comforted?

Hesitantly, Percy followed her, as did Crooks, who wasn't shy at all to walk after his mistress. Hermione hadn't even reached the bedroom when Crooks had caught up with her, meowing and rubbing himself against her legs in an attempt to catch her attention. Strangely, the cat's intrusive behaviour seemed to work, as he was picked up momentarily, Hermione pressing the animal against her chest. Sniffling, she buried her face in his fur, mumbling intelligible words as she stared at the bedroom door, rocking Crookshanks against her chest. But instead of finding comfort through the action, Hermione only started crying harder, her sniffles transforming into pitiful snobs.

Oh no. This evening was going south pretty quickly and Percy had no idea what to do. Should he take her into his arms? Would she even allow it? What did one do with crying women? His mother cried all the time but that was regular behavior for her so they all mostly ignored it. No, this was more like the three times he had seen Ginny cry. Uncomfortable and panic inducing.

Before he had the chance to form a decision, Hermione turned around and passed him, walking to one of the other bedrooms instead. Why wasn't she… oh. Of course.

"Hermione, wait. You don't have to…" he said, his voice sounding almost pleading. Please don't go, it begged, voicing his inner fear to be left out, excluded from whatever problem she had. He wanted to be there for her, needed to. "Take Crookshanks to the bedroom if you need to. It's fine," he assured, dropping the wards with a flick of his wand. "I want you to be comfortable and…"

She looked at him with watery eyes. "Thank you."

Percy nodded solemnly. "Whatever you need. Do you want me to… Do you want to be alone?"

She declined with a shake of her head. "No… I… Stay," she whispered, her eyes pleading with him. He sighed with relief, the tension he didn't know he was holding leaving his body.

"Of course," he answered, following her quietly into their bedroom. There, Crookshanks jumped from her arms and climbed onto the bed, like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be allowed in there. It wasn't, as something squirmed inside Percy when he watched the cat climb right onto his pillow, kneading it a few times with his paws before lying down on top. It didn't matter. He could clean it later, before he went to sleep, Percy told himself as he watched Hermione climb below the covers with a sniffle. Unsure what would be required of him he asked, "What do you need, darling? A massage maybe? Or I can simply sit down on the chair and read a bit if you just want a bit of company. I could also…"

"Could you just hold me?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking and defeated. "I'd rather not talk about it, but…"

Percy nodded, entering the bed behind her. "Of course. Anything you need," he assured Hermione, closing his arms around her. She immediately turned towards him and snuggled closer, burying her face against his chest.

"Also I'm here, whenever you feel like you need to talk about it. Do you?"

Hermione shook her head against his chest, her "No" muffled by his shirt.

It didn't take long for the white fabric to soak through, her tears draining it in a matter of minutes. But it didn't matter, as he only pulled her closer, murmuring words of assurance into her hair as she sobbed.

It was all he could do, Percy knew, because he was missing the facts to give her advice - especially, as it might not even be appreciated at this point. Several books had warned him that people sometimes only needed someone to listen and support them, instead of making suggestions, no matter how helpful they were. He felt like this was exactly the case here. Hermione had asked him to hold her, nothing else, and so he would hold her (not that it was a great struggle) and keep his mouth tightly shut.

Hemione would tell him when she felt ready to talk about her problems and until then Percy would do as asked and give her a shoulder to cry on, his hand rubbing her back in soothing circles.

His heart felt full at the realisation that Hermione indeed wanted him here, with her, despite the pain and sorrow she obviously felt or the fact that her cat was right there, ready for her to press against her chest. But no. Crookshanks seemed forgotten as it was Percy that Hermione clung to like he was some sort of lifeboat. It was a sign of how close they had become and Percy couldn't help but feel unbelievably proud because of it. No, this evening wasn't even going remotely according to plan, Hermione crying herself to sleep in his arms was nothing he'd ever pictured or dreamt of.

Percy hadn't even planned on going to bed so soon, without having dinner, but now that he was here, Hermione's sobs slowly calming down, he refused to move, even for an inch. His wife needed him and it felt nice to be needed, very nice. Whatever it was that brought Hermione sorrow, Percy knew they'd work through it together and in the end, they'd be stronger for it, he was sure of it.

ssssssss

Hermione awoke with a gasp, her body shivering as she shook off the nightmare that had haunted her sleep. At first she wasn't sure what had jolted her awake but when she blinked her eyes open, she saw Percy study her with a worried expression. He was still there, holding her like when they had first climbed into bed and she'd uncontrollably sobbed into his chest. She must have fallen asleep from exhaustion, the long hours of work and the emotional stress finally taking its toll. It was a good thing, really, because even though her heart was still heavy with sorrow, she felt marginally more rested and in control of her emotions already.

"Did you have a nightmare?"Percy asked quietly, his slender fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'm sorry if I woke you over nothing, but it sounded like you did."

She nodded, the urge to hide her face once more growing immediately. When she felt as weak as she did right now, she found it difficult to look at him, afraid of what he might read from her face. Percy was very good at reading people, she certainly wasn't an exception.

"Yes, thank you," she whispered, noting how hoarse she sounded. Had she screamed in her sleep? Begged? It felt like it. Had she woken Percy? How long had she been asleep anyway?

"Do you want some water? Tea maybe? I find chamomile tea very soothing after waking up from an unsettling dream," Percy told her, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. "Should I make you some?"

It was a nice offer but right now she didn't want to be alone, not even when Crooks was still there, sleeping right on top of Percy's pillow.

"A sip of water maybe…" she murmured. Nodding, Percy helped her to sit up before summoning the empty glass from the nightstand. He wordlessly handed it to her before filling it with a quick Aguamenti.

"Thank you."

The water indeed made her feel better if only by soothing her sore throat. "I hope I didn't wake you. Did I say something or… make any other noises?"

Percy sighed and took the glass from her shaky fingers. "I told you I had trouble sleeping, Hermione. It doesn't take much to wake me and you'd certainly have done so even without making any sound. I'm a light sleeper but even if I wasn't, there wouldn't be anything for you to feel bad about."

Nodding, Hermione sunk back onto her pillow only vaguely registering Percy putting her glass back onto the nightstand. She waited until he too had laid down next to her on his side, before she said, "I knew I'd eventually have a nightmare and I know it's nothing to be ashamed about. I'm not. I almost expected to have one after what happened yesterday but…"

"What happened yesterday?" he asked gently, his blue eyes studying her full of worry.

Hermione swallowed, not even sure where to start explaining. "There seems to be an issue with my hands. From time to time they have tremors which make it difficult for me to cast some of the more advanced spells with the precision that would be required. I wasn't even aware of the problem until healer Snowbell pointed it out, but…"

"Tremors? Why do you…" Percy broke off, his eyes widening with realisation, as his mind put the puzzle pieces together. She'd never bothered to glamour the scar on her arm, she wore it with pride, and as she was told she sometimes talked in her sleep… "The after-effects of the Cruciatus curse?" he asked, the coldness in his voice making her shiver.

Hermione nodded, her eyes shying away from his face. She didn't want to see the disappointment in them when he realised what it meant, that she wasn't the war hero everyone praised her to be, but in fact damaged goods.

"How long were you under?"

Hermione swallowed against the lump in her throat. "I don't know. Half an hour? Maybe longer… Does it matter? The damage is done."

"Is it permanent?" he asked further, his voice suddenly sounding hollow, probably because he understood what it meant.

Again, she nodded. "Healer Snowbell said that there could be some improvement with the right treatment, but…"

"But you won't be able to work as a healer," he concluded for her, his tone unreadable for her.

Hermione nodded once more, tears prickling in her eyes again. Now he understood, she thought, preparing herself for the disappointment that surely was to come. "No. They said it would be too dangerous, that I wasn't suited. I… I am sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Percy asked and Hermione felt him shifting next to her on the bed. Suddenly he was leaning over her, blue eyes studying her from above, his forehead pulled into a frown. "This certainly isn't your fault."

"No… but…"

Percy shook his head and even though his thumb gently brushed against her cheek, something wild flickered behind his eyes. "You've been tortured because you fought a war, a war that was brought upon you against your choice. There is nothing you need to be sorry for…"

"No? But I'm broken, Percy. And now you're stuck with me and…"

"You're not broken, Hermione. You might not be able to become a healer, but that is just because it is a highly specialised profession. It doesn't mean anything. You can still…"

"Work in an office? Open a shop?"

"Yes," Percy agreed, nodding at her.

She sighed. "But I don't want that. I want to do something meaningful, something that challenges me, that helps others."

"Then do it, Hermione. You received ten NEWTs, all of them Outstanding. Only because one door has closed for you, doesn't mean all other doors aren't still open. This is only a small setback…"

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. "But this is the door I chose! For the first time since I was eleven, I made a choice. My own choice of what I was going to do. And it just …" It didn't work. She was going to cry again. "I feel like I've just managed to regain control over my life. Being a Healer is something I wanted and again my choice is ripped away before I can ever try it… and I hate it." Hermione felt angry tears running down her cheeks. She didn't bother wiping them away.

Percy only hesitated for a second before he pulled her into his arms. She didn't resist and instead melted into him, her hands gripping his now crumpled white shirt, while his arms closed around her back holding her close. It made her feel safe, protected. Listening to the steady rhythm of his heart Hermione slowly felt herself calm down, the anger and frustration gradually leaving her with every breath she took. Finally, she rested limply in his arms, Percy's shirt once again soaked with her tears.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, raising her head to look at him. "I'm sorry I'm a mess. And unemployable. And broken. None of this is your fault but I'm still crying all over you."

"Neither is it yours, Hermione. There is no reason for you to apologise to me. You're still the same person I married ten weeks ago and I am no less grateful for having been assigned as your spouse than I was then. You suffering from the after-effects of a curse that would have quickly driven anyone else to insanity will not change this. You're a remarkable woman, Hermione. You not being able to become a Healer will not change this… or my admiration for you."

Ever so gently he reached out and cupped her face, his lips brushing against her forehead. Hermione shivered at the touch, goosebumps slowly spreading over her skin. She loved how he always treated her with respect and how he cared for her, comforting her and listening to her problems instead of springing his opinion on her as Ron had done. She'd always seen how different Percy was from the rest of his family but only slowly she'd come to realise that this made him the Weasley that was indeed best suited for her.

"You admire me?" she asked, her voice raw with emotion.

"I do. And nothing you do could change that, Hermione. You're incredible and even though life is giving you a hard time and throws you down, you always get back up. You'll also do so this time…"

"And if I can't?"

Percy smiled at her as he rested his forehead against hers. "Then I'll help you up, Hermione. We are husband and wife and I'll always be there, no matter what. I want you to use me. As your anchor. Your rock in the storm. Your safe harbor. Cry, scream, hit. Whatever you need to feel better. I can take it to help you. I'm right here."

Something inside of her snapped at his works and before she knew what she was doing, Hermione felt herself grip Percy's hair and pull him close into a bruising kiss. She wasn't gentle, her hurt and frustration bleeding from her into the kiss but Percy took it in stride. Without hesitation, he kissed her back, opening his mouth for her to explore it with her tongue or to suck at his bottom lip until it looked red and swollen. Then she moved her lips towards his neck, nipping and kissing and biting his skin as she went, Percy's quiet hisses and whimpers only spurring her on further. When she reached his throat and started to suck at his pulse point she expected him to push her away, but all he did was hold her gently and move his head to the side, to give her better access to his vulnerable flesh.

What happened afterwards, Hermione would probably never admit to anyone, because the only way to explain her behaviour was by admitting that she'd lost control. Driven by what must have been a mix of frustration and lust she undressed him, tearing a button from his shirt in her hurry to rid him of his clothes. Even then he let her kiss and nip at his skin without complaint, his fingers stroking her hair and her skin while whispering words of encouragement and adoration. It was when he was fully naked below her, his cock hard and leaking at the tip that she paused. What did she think she was doing here?

Percy seemed to have similar questions as he stared at her in the half-light of the room, his eyes big and trusting. "What is it, Hermione? What do you need?" he asked, propping himself up on the bed, one hand reaching for her, cupping her face.

Hermione shook her head, uneasiness nagging at her. "I don't know, I… This wasn't… Merlin, did I hurt you?"

"No… I… Don't worry about me. I like this. So whatever you feel you need… take it. I'll give it to you gladly."

"I…" She hesitated, trying to make sense of his words. If she was honest with herself she didn't know what it was she wanted or needed right now. Until now all that had driven her was her anger, her frustration, but now that she saw Percy like this, pupils wide and his skin covered in love bites, she found that there was also a very sexual and arousing component to this. Oh god, he was just so tempting.

"Are you sure?" She needed to ask, to make sure that this was indeed okay for him. "What if…"

"I'm positive, Hermione. What do you need? Just say it…"

If it only was so easy. "I want to have sex with you," she admitted, her heart pounding against her ribcage. "But… I don't know. God, I'm still so angry, so frustrated and I can't… I want to let it out. On something. Anything. I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

She was silenced by his lips that met her gently, full of understanding. "That's alright," he whispered, kissing her over and over until her head swam with emotions. "Being angry is alright, you have every right to be. We'll figure this out, I promise. Just tell me what you want me to do. I'm here for you."

Hermione swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. Somehow the tension in the room had suddenly shifted, her heart no longer thrumming with anger but excitement. Why did his offer excite her like this?

"I…" she swallowed again, hoping that her voice wouldn't sound as raspy as it felt. "Could you do that thing with your mouth again? Last time… it felt really good…"

Percy looked at her for a long moment before he nodded, his hands gently reaching for the buttons of her now crumpled work robe. She'd never wear it again, Hermione realised, a stab of regret flooding her at the realisation.

"Percy? Could you… Could you vanish my robes, please? I don't want to see them any longer and I'd rather…"

"Of course." Before she could even finish the sentence, Percy had angled his wand from the nightstand and wordlessly vanished her robe. Her underwear followed soon after, gently removed by Percy's hands while his blue eyes studied her with an intensity that made her shiver. She didn't know how she'd ever found his gaze unsettling or even intimidating when it now made her feel so special, like she was the centre of this handsome man's attention. And right now she was, the kisses Percy pressed onto her body making her feel wanted and cherished in a way that stole her breath. That was until Percy's lips skillfully latched to the sensitive bud between her legs, his fingers stroking and caressing her until she screamed his name, clutching his head to keep him in place. He dutifully stayed, his tongue circling over and over until her body grew heavy, all anger and frustration wiped away.

"Oh my god, Percy. You're… that was… perfect," she whispered, pulling him upwards to cover his lips with her own. She could taste herself on them, a fact that she found strangely arousing, despite the fact that she'd just found her release. But no, this night wasn't over, Hermione decided as she took in Percy's slim form and the erection that almost seemed to beg for her attention. Feeling it against her thigh made her stomach flutter with anticipation, while she once more felt the need for him inside her rise.

"You liked it?" Percy asked, his voice sounding shy but hopeful nonetheless. "It was… good?"

Hermione smiled against his lips as she nodded. "Perfect. You're very good… at that. It's just what I needed."

"Good. Good is… good. I'm happy to have been of service." He whispered against her lips before Hermione could feel him pull away. Following an instinct, she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into another kiss, while her other hand reached out to stroke his twitching cock.

"I like this too," she murmured, stroking him with her hand until Percy moaned into her mouth. "And I'd love to feel you inside me, Percy. Can you do this? I want to fuck you. I want to forget anything except this… except us."

"I…'"

Maybe it was selfish but Hermione wasn't ready to let him go. Instead she leaned back, staring into the darkness in his eyes that she was unaccustomed to. Rather than deter her it just cemented her next words, "Do it for me?"

It was the little sound that he made in the back of his throat that almost did it for her, making Hermione's heart flutter with excitement as she'd never known it before. It only grew when she saw Percy's face glowing with pride and excitement, a new confidence and determination radiating from him into their kiss.

"I can do that," Percy promised, kissing Hermione over and over until she felt dizzy and was panting into his mouth. "I'll do anything you ask of me."

"Good," Hermione gasped, her fingers digging into Percy's shoulder as her husband slowly came to rest on top of her, his hard length brushing against her entrance. All she wanted was to feel him inside of her when he drove her higher and higher until she no longer cared that she'd just lost her job or that she had no idea what to do with herself now. Luckily Hermione didn't have to wait for long as Percy entered her soon after, his blue eyes shining with adoration and just a touch of obsession. Her husband was nothing if not eager to please and being with him now she felt loved and accepted, despite her imperfections. Percy had seen her, truly seen her. He'd held her and listened to her sorrows, to her faults. In the storm of emotions, she'd felt he had given her an anchor, a way to feel in control, even if it was just for tonight. He understood and gave her what she needed, unbothered by her raging feelings by her imperfections. Tonight, with him, she felt a little less broken, because he treated her in a way that made her feel like he didn't care that she wasn't the perfect golden girl that everyone assumed she was. Percy knew better now and yet he didn't seem to care.