Disclaimer: Property of J. K. Rowling, who graciously allows us to play with her toys.

A/N: I know this story hasn't gotten anywhere near the traffic of my other story, and I know not everyone likes Percy, but PLEASE give this story a chance... I'm really pleased with it. Please R&R! This is a re-write of the original Chapter Three I wrote...

Chapter Three – A Plea for Help

Hermione opened her mouth, then shut it, opened it again, and shut it again. Finally she spoke, but all she could make out was a rather dim-sounding "Uh…"

As Hermione's voice had been getting louder and more shrill as she tore further into Percy, several people on the street had been stopping to stare at the two of them. Percy was quite uncomfortable with this, especially as most of the strangers on the street were now shooting him icy glares. He quickly decided to make use of Hermione's sudden dumbstruck state by leading her by the arm into a nearby Starbucks and seating her at a table before she could realize what was happening. Her mind cleared about who she was with and why she was so angry when Percy joined her at the small table with two paper cups of coffee, placing one down in front of her.

She frowned at Percy, but after his startling statement regarding Penelope's death, she decided to give him a chance to speak his peace. She tore open a single sugar packet, and stirred it into her coffee, all the while attempting to keep up her stern gaze. She took a sip of her coffee, after muttering a very quiet (and reluctant) 'thank you', and finally asked, as gently as she was able to despite the extreme rage she was feeling, "Would you mind further elucidating your earlier statement?"

Percy sighed, knowing that more explanation was required, but not happy about having to relive it for the umpteenth time. "It happened just after You-Know-Who was killed. I had gotten us an apartment together in Muggle London some months before, to try to keep us safe. We thought that with You-Know-Who dead, the world was safe again. So I let her go to Diagon Alley with her sister, who had always wanted to see it. You know Penelope was Muggle-born? Her sister, Pauline, she wasn't a witch. Anyway… they were out, and a group of Death Eaters were still doing raids in the name of You-Know-Who, and…" His voice broke a little bit, but he kept going. "She and her sister were both killed. I had to help bring their bodies back to their parents. It was Pauline's first time there, and Penelope was…" he took a long breath, "Penelope was only there in the first place because she was shopping for her wedding dress." He stopped talking, and stared at his cup of coffee.

It was a rare moment for Hermione: a life as a busybody and a career as a reporter gave her few opportunities to be at a loss for words, but it was already the second time that night she had found herself completely speechless. Her mouth again opened and closed several times, like a guppy. It wasn't as though she knew Penelope Clearwater very well; a brief encounter that was nearly deadly for the pair of them during her second year was all she could recollect at the moment. And though many were killed during the Dark War, including her own parents, she discovered one never became numb to it, and even old news of another fatality would never stop filling her with fresh grief.

Finally, she found what she wanted to say, all that one could ever say in the wake of Voldemort's terror: "I'm sorry."

Percy appeared to quickly brush his face with the back of his hand, but he looked up again with clear eyes, and replied, "Don't be. It's not your fault, you couldn't have known, and it was many years ago now. It was far worse for the Clearwaters. It's such a dreadful tragedy, to have to bury your only two children."

"Wow… That's terrible…" she said sombrely, shaking her head, still nearly at a total loss for words. She remained silent for a moment. "But still… I am sorry. But I don't mean what I said to you before any less. You still abandoned your family." She seemed to be torn, deciding whether she should be building up something of a second wind, or in quiet, respectful mourning. She felt that she still had things that needed to be said, but decided to do so as sympathetically as possible. She would not raise her voice again, especially as she found herself more self-conscious in a public indoor location.

"You hurt everybody," she continued. "I know why this whole feud started, but I don't understand how you could let it keep going. You hurt Molly; you hurt Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Ron, Harry, me…"

"You?" Percy asked quizzically.

"Yes, me, Percy," Hermione responded, finally glancing up at him. "I had thought we were friends, too, you know. We used to talk at the Burrow all the time, don't you remember? Despite our age difference, you made me feel like an intellectual equal, even when I was just a kid. I think I was the only one who even listened to you go on and on about cauldron bottoms. Not a one of us would have expected you to betray your father and Harry the way that you did. It was just so… cold-blooded."

Percy sighed. "You're absolutely right, Hermione. One hundred percent. I screwed up, big time."

She was taken slightly aback at this comment. She never remembered Percy admitting someone else was right, let alone that he had made a mistake. "You…?"

"Yes. I really, really screwed the pooch on this one. I was stubborn, and I know it started for a reason, but… it no longer seems at all like a good reason," he said, looking back down into his coffee, with what sounded like honest remorse in his voice.

Hermione was stunned by the regret she heard, not to mention the casual colloquialism. She recalled Percy's vernacular as always being rather formal, no matter what the situation.

"Why haven't you tried to contact your family in all these years, then, Percy?" she asked.

"Hermione…" he said thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on the table, "did you know that Fred and George saw me in Ottery St. Catchpole about five or six years ago?"

"What? No!" Hermione blurted out, slightly louder than she'd intended. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat, and lowered her voice. "What happened?" she inquired, at a quieter volume.

"I was less than a kilometre from the Burrow when they both ran up to me from the direction of the house. They grabbed me by the arms and side-along Apparated me to the village limits. Fred held my arms behind my back while George got in a few good punches to my face and stomach. After successfully breaking my nose – oh, yes, and stepping on my hands, breaking most of my fingers as well – they promised me that if they ever caught me anywhere near the Burrow again, they would kill me. They didn't even bother using their wands; it didn't seem to occur to them at all. The whole incident may have been a first for the twins, as I do believe they were being absolutely serious for once." Percy's tone was surprisingly casual, given the subject matter.

Hermione was floored by this new information. "How on earth are you able to be so blasé about this? That's horrible, even to you!"

Percy flinched slightly at the insult. He chose not to remind her that it was only minutes ago that she told him that he could 'fucking die for all she cares', as it was clearly a remark made in the heat of an angry moment. "It was a long time ago," he said. "I've since come to grips with it… well, mostly. As best as one can come to grips with one's brothers beating the shit out of him and threatening his life."

Hermione furrowed her brow, thinking about what was said earlier. "Wait, wait, wait, something doesn't make sense to me. Percy, what were you doing in Ottery St. Catchpole, anyway? You said that you've been living in Muggle London for ages now."

Percy sighed. "Weren't you always considered the 'brightest witch of your age', Hermione? Why do you think I've even bothered to approach you tonight after our chance meeting?"

She frowned. "Well, why did you?"

At this, he put his coffee down and looked Hermione directly in the eyes. "This is off the record, right?"

She nodded, not breaking their eye contact. 'What could Percy Weasley possibly need or want from me?' she wondered.

"I fucked up big time, Hermione. I want my family back. I was hoping that you would help me."