for slytherdornet and hprarepairnet's be mine challenge on tumblr.
The shop front was unmistakably pink in a world of white and dull winter grey. Light from its frosted window panes coated the cobbled sidewalk with a bright cheery glow missing from all the other stores dotted along the narrow alleyway.
"Not natural," one witch said as she wandered down the street bent over her cane. "Pink and frilly don't belong down here."
Her friend grunted his agreement as he tugged at one of the long strands of his hair poking out from his hood. "Ain't she learned this place is for hiding?"
"'Fraid not, Gerald. She'd determined to get herself in trouble."
"She gives me the heebies, Sandy. I don't like it."
The pair walked on ahead, feet dragging through the icy slush collecting in the drains on the other side of the street, making their way towards Borgin and Burkes for the next item on their shopping list. As they reached the door, a wizard dressed in muted blues and golds opened it for them. His hair was close-cropped on either side of his head, the top covered by a short top hat, and his gloves squeaked against the old wood as he held the door open for the pair.
"I'll be along again in the coming weeks, Borgin," the ministry official said.
He couldn't have been anything but a Ministry wizard, Sandy thought to herself, noting the way he was dressed in the middle of Knockturn Alley. His type were always pants at blending in. Especially when they tried to. She nodded her head politely to the wizard, not wanting any trouble, and pulled her shopping companion in behind her so he'd stop staring at the shop down the way.
"Don't hurry back," Borgin said through a forced smile.
Sandy rolled her eyes as she heard the man say "I heard that, Master Borgin," before the door shut behind him. She watched his shadow through the glass as he adjusted the buttons on his cloak and started to walk away.
"I thought this place was strange when that Dark Man was running the streets but I've never seen such things, Mister Borgin."
"Are you speaking of the Dark Lord, Sandy? You need to shut yer yap before it gets you into more trouble. You've only got one eye left, lass."
Sandy thumped her cane on the countertop and scowled at Borgin with her good eye. Gerald, who had been wandering the display cases while he waited, poked his head around to watch the scene with interest. "Don't take your frustrations with the Ministry out on me, little boy, or I'll set your grandmother on you again!"
Percy Weasley paused on his last stop of the day. Two weeks ago the shop was bright with gold, silver, and light blue trimmings for the New Year. A month ago, and constantly for the preceding month before that, the shop blinded passerby with garish Christmas, Hanukkah, Solstice, and several other winter holiday decorations that were a strange combination of bold and inviting. He shook the idea away from his mind that he'd been attracted to the shop front display since it reminded him so much of his parent's home growing up: charming, if a little ramshackle in its presentation.
Now Little Trappings for Modern Wix boasted a display that...were those live faeries dozing on a miniature chaise?
He cast a Finite Incantatem on himself just to make sure he didn't have any lingering curses affecting his judgement from Borgin and Burkes before pushing open the stained glass door.
"Miss Parkinson?" he called out, carefully avoiding an over enthusiastic coat rack by the door. "Miss Parkinson, it's Percy Weasley from the Ministry."
Pansy Parkinson lounged behind her countertop, black boots resting on a stool while she examined an enormous ledger in her lap, using her thighs as a prop. In a sea of pink, red, purple, and white that would give his brothers' shop a run for its money, the shop owner stuck out like a sore thumb dressed all in black.
"I've collected the documents you need right here," she said, not looking up from the two quills dancing across the pages.
"You know I'll need to summon them myself, anyway, Miss Parkinson."
He saw her eyebrows lift and lower above the top of the book. "Knock yourself out."
And he knew she meant it.
"Accio!"
"Told you," she muttered when the only documents that fluttered towards him were those neatly packed in a folder on her counter.
He tried not to roll his eyes, but it had been a long day of frustrating shopkeepers requiring inspection by his department, and he really couldn't help himself. Percy searched for a place to sit to read over the forms before picking the low pouf behind the front counter with Pansy. His knees folded up towards his chest and he balanced the documents on his knees so he could shrug out of his heavy overcoat. The warmth of the shop was welcome after several in a row that couldn't be bothered to ruin their dark and dingy aesthetic with proper heat vents.
They worked in silence except for the scratching of quills and whirr of a few mechanical display items in the front. The routine was comfortable enough, even if the subject manner still caused contention between them. For the last six years Percy had visited shops along Knockturn alley sporadically three or four times a year to check on the progress of those on probation of some kind. He understood why the Ministry wanted to watch some of the citizens, like Borgin who had proven shifty well before the second rise of Voldemort, but that didn't stop him from providing copies of all his reports to Hermione. As soon as she'd discovered what the Ministry was up to by monitoring every detail of a few people's lives she'd left a caustic resignation on the desk of Kingsley Shacklebolt. She was more use building a coup behind the doors of Malfoy Manor with Snape and Draco than she'd been within the walls of the Ministry.
That's where Percy stepped in.
He frowned as he worked, checking the data on the sheets in front of him showing where her money was coming in and where it went out. As he passed over a line marked Malkin's Unmentionables he nearly choked on the implication. A cursory sweep around the store's inventory showed Pansy had purchased a bulk order of lingerie for both wizards and witches and everything in between in preparation for Valentine's Day.
The image of Pansy sorting that particular order certainly did not arouse him.
"Something off?"
He almost ripped the page with his quill in surprise. "Not at all. As usual, everything is in order."
Pansy leaned against the doorjamb that lead to her private office, the image of relaxed and confident with her arms crossed. At this vantage point he could make out her pants were a very dark shade of green instead of the black he'd mistaken them for earlier. She cracked her gum loudly after giving him a lingering once over, expressionless, then walked back into her office, calling over her shoulder, "Thought so."
Percy put his head against the wall behind him and bit his lip. He wanted to tell her that she was actually being protected and he didn't give a flying rat's ass what she spent her money on, but Hermione had made him swear he wouldn't reveal anything until they were ready to stage their coup, ousting the corrupt at the Ministry for good. They all knew abolishing the corruption completely was impossible in the long run, but flushing out the last of the riff raff loyal to Voldemort would save the world a headache.
Working in silence, Percy stayed for another hour to finish the paperwork. He really could have finished much faster but he caught himself more than once listening or watching Pansy work with her customers. There was a different tone to her voice when she was being genuine and when she was just being polite. The idea he could tell the difference made his quill work faster so he could leave and stop thinking about the implications.
As a few customers filtered in out of curiosity or to ask if she'd gotten their orders in yet, Percy kept a quiet stream of conversation with her. It would make the eventual invitation into the coup so much simpler if he trusted her before it happened. For the most part the increase in snowfall apparent through the shop's front window kept most people off the street so they'd enjoyed a pot of tea, uninterrupted, except for the chime of the clock striking three hours past midday.
As he buttoned up his coat, her file neatly tucked in an inside pocket with the others he was bringing to Hermione first, Percy looked around to say goodbye to Pansy. "Miss Parkinson?"
"Yeah, over here, Weasley."
His shoes made hollow sounds on the hardwood floor as he took measured steps towards her voice. There were more items in this store with a mind of their own than just the handsy coatrack, after all.
She was at the front of the store giving little presents and sugary treats to the faeries in the window. The light from their wings lit her face in a rosy glow that made him swallow and reflexively straighten his tie. Her body was contorted a bit in order to lean over the display shelf without disturbing anything, or anyone, with one leg up and braced against a box, and leaning over enough that her shirt lifted up a bit away from the top of her jeans.
Pansy looked up at him, blowing her hair out of her face with a few short puffs, her fringe flying a bit pell-mell in the process. "Need me to sign my report or something?"
"Indeed. May I?"
Offering one of his hands, not yet covered by his thick gloves, Percy helped Pansy upright so she wouldn't topple anything around her. One of the faeries (since the fair folk know much more about these things than wix do) saw their chance to push Pansy a little bit harder than she expected.
Percy was ready to catch her as Pansy fell forward, her mouth parted and eyes wide with the brand of fear that comes with almost tipping your chair back too far or missing a step. The thick tread of her boot worked against her, creating friction to force all of her weight into Percy, but he bent his knees and caught her under her elbow on one side and her waist on the other.
Pansy's mouth snapped shut as she looked up. Her face was only a few inches from Percy's, and at this distance she could make out his eyes were very, very blue. And fixated on her mouth.
Slowly, she settled her feet so she stood on her own again, brushing away dirt that didn't exist just so she could look away from Percy. "Good catch."
"It was my...uh, I mean I'm happy to help."
Neither moved to end the meeting yet, both shuffling in their own way until Pansy waved her hand at Percy's coat.
"Well, what did you need me to sign?"
"Oh!" He reached into his pocket for a quill and the small ledger he kept for all of his appointments, confirming for his superior that he'd completed the appointments. "Here, like always."
For as long as it took for them to pass the quill back and forth, their hands touched and they didn't meet each other's eyes.
And still, they dithered.
The only warning Percy got before Pansy lifted up on her tiptoes in a quick kiss was a muttered, "Oh, this is just stupid." His eyes didn't close right away, taking in the way her fringe caught on her eyebrows and now he could see a little scar on her nose from a hex or maybe even a piercing at one time.
"Fuck," she said, pulling away. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I just-"
Percy's stomach fell when he realized she mistook his shock for disgust and reacted immediately, grabbing her shoulders gently to turn her back towards him instead of marching away. "Getting it right the first time is improbable...again?"
This time he responded with the appropriate amount of enthusiasm.
"Now that's an improvement to this shop!"
Sandy stopped shuffling down the sidewalk in front of Little Trappings for Modern Wix, and as soon as she saw what Gerald was talking about, she reached up to smack his shoulder. She did what she could to poke, prod and push him away from the blurry image of a lip locked couple beyond the frosty glass.
"Stop your gawking! Move on, then. I won't be seen next to this shiny monstrosity."
-fin-