A Tuesday in December, 2003.

At noon on the dot, Percy stood up from his desk and opened his office door, revealing his wife, whom he had just heard knock. As was their tradition since the birth of their first daughter Molly nearly two years ago, Audrey came and had lunch with him in his office every Tuesday, and he with her on Thursdays - it was their way of having time specifically set apart for each other, aside from their family, friends, and work. Occasionally, these lunches would be interrupted by a visit or a last-minute memo from someone else, but otherwise they enjoyed their lunch routine in peace. This was especially important to them, as they were 3 months away from welcoming a second little daughter into their family.

Hardly a few minutes had passed since Percy and Audrey sat down with their packed lunches at the small table in the corner of Percy's office, when another knock on Percy's door came. "Goodness," Audrey joked in fake-astonishment, "I can't even keep other people off of my husband for long enough to have lunch!" Percy gave her an exasperated laugh, still smiling her direction as he turned the doorknob, hoping that whatever matter was required of him could wait another half-hour. When he pivoted and saw who was at his door, however, he froze. His posture changed so quickly that, even as he recovered his composure, Audrey found herself automatically rising to back-up her normally calm and collected husband against whatever had unsettled him.

"Mr. Clearwater? What can I do for you? Is everything alright?"

Audrey sat back down. She could tell right away that the man at the door was, one, someone Percy knew but likely had not seen in awhile - her husband networked quite a bit and quite well, and hardly anybody threw him off-guard - and two, the man was currently much more disheveled and wayward-looking in expression and posture than his manner of dress would indicate. Clearly this man felt that, whatever had disrupted his normal life, speaking with Percy would help, so she remained silent as Percy offered the man his seat across her.

"Oh no, I can't take your seat," Mr. Clearwater said as he stood facing Percy, looking a bit astonished as well, "I only wanted to tell you..." he trailed off as the emotions in his face shifted, before explaining, "I needed to speak to you in person. The other day I inquired after you and your secretary tried to have me make an appointment, but I didn't want to take away from your work time. She told me finally that you normally lunch in your office on Tuesdays. So I came now, I'm sorry. I only thought I should tell you..."

Here, Mr. Clearwater paused again. He took a deep breath, exhaled - "Penelope has passed, Percy."

Percy exhaled as well, the breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and closed his eyes. He had known, instinctively, as soon as he saw Mr. Clearwater, and the reflexive "I'm sorry to hear that" came before Percy had even thought them. He felt Audrey squeeze his hand, and he looked back at his guest. Mr. Clearwater continued, "I don't know if you wanted to know. Or if she wanted you to know, but I thought you should. You came to visit her, after all, even when she was shutting people out. I wanted to thank you, if she never did. And to let you know that it happened."

The deluge of memories came roaring back at Percy; for a moment, all he could see was both times that Penny Clearwater had shut him out, and all he could feel was the sinking stone of emotions he had felt back then. Another squeeze of his hand brought him back to the present, and he noticed his wife looking up at him - he remembered that Audrey would have known Penny as well, and saw in her eyes permission granted to grieve with Penny's father.

"Thank you for letting me know, sir," Percy sighed, "your daughter was going through a lot, the last time I saw her, and I cannot imagine what the past several years were like for her and for you. I hope she was able to find peace, after everything."

"I was with her, in the end. It was peaceful, but it was a long time coming," Mr. Clearwater said wistfully. "The healers were right, her physical and magical strength weren't the same after the attack. She was in denial for awhile, I think, still pushing away people who wanted to offer support. I think she wanted to get away from me, even, but didn't want to leave me entirely alone either. We lived in the muggle world almost completely, until after the War ended. Penny worked as a librarian, then, and when we came back to the magical world she kept on with it. She figured she might as well put that mind of hers to good use helping others."

Percy offered a smile, "I'm so glad to hear that she was able to find and enjoy work these years. I only saw her a couple times, after the baby, but she seemed at such a loss of what to do with herself after the attack. Understandably so. It sounds like she was ill for awhile before she passed away though, I'm sorry."

"Yes," Mr. Clearwater nodded, "she loved the libraries. I could tell she missed her potions, though. She didn't get truly sick until about a year ago. She started having trouble breathing; it came in fits at first, then it was all the time. She knew, she told me, that it was that poison gas coming back to get her," - his voice became thin and strained as he recounted Penny's sickness - "but she kept working and fighting it as long as she could. It went from her lungs to her muscles to her kidneys, and at that point the healers said, once her kidneys stopped working entirely she would be essentially poisoning herself. They gave her blood-cleansing potions and pain potions. About a month ago she stopped being able to eat, really, and a week ago she passed away."

He wiped moisture from his eyes, and Percy looked away, only to see Audrey doing the same. His passionate, thoughtful wife had always been sensitive to emotions of others, and for the umpteenth time since they met Percy was glad for her understanding heart.

Audrey rose and looked Mr. Clearwater in the eye; she didn't know anything of Penelope Clearwater since school other than what she had learned today, but she did recall the older girl from Hogwarts. "I'm sorry for your loss as well, sir. I'm Audrey Weasley, I was in Ravenclaw a few years behind Penelope. I remember her as prefect and Head Girl, she was always kind and willing to help us younger students. I didn't know her well, but I can tell that it means a lot to Percy here that you came to tell him what happened". Audrey reached her hand over to the man's shoulder, hoping to provide some comfort or reassurance.

"Thank you, dear. And to you as well, Percy," Mr. Clearwater replied, with a small but grateful smile. "I...I wasn't sure what the right thing to do was...her passing seemed belated, in a twisted sort of way, yet so sudden to me at the same time. I haven't got very many people to tell about it, because so few people knew the long story of how she died. But I remembered you, Percy, and I wanted to come see you in person. I am glad to see you are doing well, lad. It's more reassuring to me than you could know."

Percy looked at Audrey, and they smiled at each other. "I am well," Percy affirmed, "and still learning to take things day by day. Everything with Penny, and my family, and the War, really taught me that. We all have an impact to make on the world, I've learned. I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Clearwater. Please do let me know if there is anything I can do for you, at all."

The man nodded, then turned to leave. He turned back, and briefly gave Percy a clap on the back. "You're a good man, lad. And congratulations," he said, smiling towards Audrey's expanded abdomen, "I'll leave you two to your lunch now. Goodbye, Percy". Then he made his way out.

Percy and Audrey sat back down at the little table. "I really did like Penelope," Audrey mused, "she was one of the nicest older girls in our house, certainly". Percy hummed in agreement, looking down at his sandwich. He took a bite, then glanced at his wife as she continued, "I remember you and she had dated, though I hadn't thought much of it until just now. You don't talk about it, dear, but clearly it's important - I already know it'll be on your mind the rest of the day. Tell me what you are thinking?"

With a pensive look, Percy agreed. "The story is a slightly long one, but I can take an extended lunch break today, if you can. I will try and explain, a little."

He did, proceeding to tell his wife about his short-lived post-Hogwarts romance with Penelope, about the baby that wasn't, and the attack. The way he told it, was almost like hearing about a former life, rather than a memory less than ten years old. Audrey listened attentively, trying to see the narrative both retrospectively, from Percy's sharpened hindsight, as well as how it must have felt at the time in either of their shoes. Her heart sunk to hear about the rough hand Penelope had been dealt after leaving school. She was surprised that the story of the miscarriage had not come out before, particularly when she was pregnant with Molly, though she now understood why Percy was so privately overjoyed but publicly reserved with the news of her pregnancies. Audrey now also understood yet another part of why her husband was so dedicated to family, and why he had worked so fervently, even from his bureaucratic post in the Ministry, to ensure that justice was served to families after the end of the War.

As she returned to her own office after they finished lunch, she continued to ponder what she had just learned of her husband. The past was the past, Audrey knew, but she also felt her husband's rehashed grief for the family he could have had, and for the first person he loved and lost. An idea came to her about their own family, their vivacious little Molly at home, and Lucy who currently enjoying tilting around her insides. Maybe, she could talk to Percy about it, maybe for the life that never came to be, their new little one could be Lucy Penelope.