Chapter 16: Prim and Proper and Passionate
Hermione Granger wiped at her eyes, blinking them rapidly as she attempted to focus on the reams of parchment set before her. Realizing that her tears had ensured that she had forgotten her place on the page, she cursed and glanced at the clock: it was nearly quitting time. Most other people who worked here at the Ministry of Magic would already be gathering their things and punching a time clock.
But Hermione Granger was not like most other people who worked. She always worked harder, longer, smarter. Besides, that clock was two minutes fast.
She attempted to start over again from the top of the page. She wasn't going to be like any of those other Ministry employees, who just burned time until the moment the clock struck five.
Even if, at present, her job was just that of an intern in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
The clock struck the hour before she could sink much more into her thoughts.
"Hermione? Still here?"
She glanced up sharply, sucking in a breath while hastily wiping at her eyes again. Percy Weasley was standing in the doorway of this office, studying her with a bemused smile.
Hermione shrugged, attempting to make the gesture nonchalant, even as she was in agony inside. She wondered how much Percy was aware of it, how he resembled his youngest brother. True, this man was tall and lankier than Ronald had ever been, perhaps, but….
"Two minutes past."
To her surprise, Percy chuckled. "Ah, never mind those two minutes. You may go now."
Eyeing him almost suspiciously, Hermione began to slowly set about clearing away her workstation, gathering her purse and coat. She could feel the one surviving Weasley's eyes on her, watching her. She jumped a little, startled, when he now full-on laughed. "For pity's sake, Hermione, get on! Go on home! You don't have to wait for the grass to grow!"
Hermione shouldered her bag, lifted her head to give him a weak smile.
She caught him – and certainly herself – at just the wrong moment. The way Percy was even standing, it made her lose her breath as it reminded her of….
"I….. I have to go…." Hermione pushed past Percy, walking briskly out of the office and into the hall. By the time she reached the Atrium, where she and Harry and….. and Ron had fled with the locket Horcrux not even a year ago, she broke into a run. The cool air made the moisture cling to her cheeks, and her bushy brown hair flew behind her like a banner, but she didn't stop. Just before she had reached the lifts….
"Hermione….. HERMIONE!"
She crashed to a halt when nearly at the lifts, swaying forward with her own inertia. She glanced back just in time for Percy to slow out of a fairly punishing jog and catch her arm.
"Are you all…..?"
Hermione pursed her lips emotionally and shook her head. "No…." she moaned.
"Are you not enjoying the position? I mean…." He bit his lip. "Our situation doesn't have to be awkward…."
A person listening in without context might come away assuming that, by that statement, Percy and Hermione had gone through a bad break-up and were trying to start over as colleagues. Hermione batted the thought away, almost laughing even as she was bursting into tears. If only it were that simple….!
"It's not you; it's me…. I…." She chuckled bitterly. "Godric, that sounded like such a line."
Percy smirked. "It's all right. For what it's worth, I've heard that line before."
This took Hermione aback. She appraised the gentleman up and down. Growing up alongside Ron, spending summers at the Burrow, Hermione hadn't had much time or opportunities to even interact with Percy. But from the little she had, she had admired his dedication to being by the book. He was polite, soft spoken. Maybe a tad officious, but Hermione liked seeing that in a man. Godric only knew Ronald had never been so mature, and where the man had matured, Hermione thought back to realize that Ronald had done so mostly for her…..
She buried her face in her palms and let out a tiny sob. "I'm…. I'm sorry…. It's just that…. you look so much like your brother…."
She half-expected him to ask which one, then realized, even as a joke, that would be stupid; he knew perfectly well which one. To whom she was referring.
Drying her tears again, Hermione blinked to see how Percy's expression now seemed caught between pride and pain. She wetly chuckled.
"I thought you'd be offended."
"To the contrary – it's one of the finer compliments I've ever received." He sounded nakedly sincere. There was an awkward pause, and just as Hermione turned for the lifts with a half-hearted wave, his voice stopped her.
"Hermione?"
She turned back, brown eyes blinking doefully. "Yes?"
"Would….?" Percy faltered. Tried again. "I have some personal home projects that need doing this weekend? Would you care to join me?" At her bemused and skeptical look, he amended, "It might be helpful in sorting out your…. your grieving. Certainly, it's been that way for me. I can face things better when I'm busy."
Hermione nodded in agreement. "I would care, very much. To join you."
Percy grinned in a way that might have almost been relieved. "Excellent. Shall we say, Knockturn Alley, this Saturday week, 7 o'clock in the morning?"
Hermione nodded, curiosity piqued. "Sure."
"Cheers." Patting her arm, Percy swept for the lifts. As the green Floo flames consumed him and whisked him from sight, Hermione stared after him.
Hermione walked down the thoroughfare of Knockturn Alley, oddly trying to coax herself into a correct mindset. Just relax…. After all, this wasn't a date. And it wasn't as though Ron's brother had asked her out on one. Besides, most people didn't spend a date working on 'home projects.'
She caught sight of Percy stepping out onto the front stoop of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes location, and understanding dawned for her.
Of course, after the twins' deaths, something would have to be done about their joke shop.
Percy waved her in. "Come on in."
Hermione followed Percy inside, glancing about and realizing there was a lot of packing up to do. But no boxes…
"Shall I transfigure some storage, do you think?"
Percy smiled at her. "Just some. But I daresay it won't be too necessary; we won't be clearing everything away…."
Hermione blinked. "We won't?" Curious, she joined Percy in emptying some stocked shelves – the products appeared to be of a slightly more dangerous type.
Percy nodded. "My hope is that the joke shop will remain open, as a…. a legacy to George and Fred." He turned to her, smiling sadly. "I've already reached a gentleman's agreement with Lee Jordan; we just have to draw up the papers…. He'll be taking over most of the shares of the company and move in to the loft above here. He and Angelina are getting married this winter."
Hermione nodded absently. It sounded quite lovely, actually. She felt admiration towards Percy, for him wanting to do this, even though she knew that out of all of his brothers, none had grated on his nerves quite so much as Fred and George.
"….. Mind you, I won't step completely away. Lee has graciously agreed to take me on as partner."
Hermione glanced up at him, shocked. Then she giggled. "You? Working in a joke shop?"
Percy shrugged, placing some items into boxes. "Why not? Course, it would just be part time, along with my work at the Ministry, but…. that's how most people are surviving in this country, inn'it? Especially now – working two jobs…."
Hermione knew what she meant. At present, she was hoping her summer internship at the Ministry would parlay into a starting position the following year, after she had finished going back to school.
"Where…. where will you be living? Not up there in the loft until Lee and Angelina move in, surely?" Her mind flashed back to the Burrow, awash in flames, and her heart constricted.
From the distant stare in his eyes, she could tell Percy had returned to that dark place too. "Shell Cottage, for now."
Hermione hugged herself as she tried to stave off another flashback: dear, sweet Fleur, hovering over her prone form, administering Dittany….
"Hermione…. Are you all right….?"
She turned her head, smiled at him weakly. "Yes. Just…. lost in thought. Thank you, Percy."
He was brave, she decided, to live in a house that had once been owned by people who were now dead. "Would you sell it?" she asked. Then she hastily added, "Eventually." She knew from Ron that the place had held sentimental value; it had belonged to his Great Aunt Muriel.
"Heavens, no!" Percy warbled. "It's been in the family for years. But I do still have to get Bill and Fleur's affairs in order…" He cracked a rueful smile. "Between here, the Cottage, and rebuilding in Devonshire…."
Hermione stared. "You're rebuilding the Burrow?"
Percy sighed, nodding. "Mum and Dad would have wanted that, and besides, it's more than a just penance, isn't it?"
Hermione's heart went out to him. The man has lost his entire family, a family with whom he had been estranged at the time of most of their deaths. Softly, she reached out and laid her hand over his. "…. I think it's very admirable. What you're doing. But you…. you don't have to blame yourself, Percy…."
When she spotted how he was glancing down at where their hands touched, she quickly dropped her hand away, her cheeks oddly turning pink. She distracted herself by performing this almost mind-soothing, rote work at his side. "I should like to see the old place. The Burrow. How…. how far along are you in rebuilding?"
Percy smirked at her. "I'll be over there that way tomorrow. Why don't you join me and find out?"
Blinking, Hermione nodded, her face upturning into a soft grin. "I'd like that…."
The following morning, Hermione willed her feet to march through the front gate of the property that, a little more than a year ago, had been razed to the ground. She was surprised and even impressed to see how high the beige structure of timber had risen into the sky; Percy was clearly intent on rebuilding his childhood home exactly as it had been. Drifting over to a piece of lumber braced over a sawhorse, Hermione stared down at an old photograph of the Burrow. Her heart spasmed again.
Glancing up and squinting into the glare of the sunlight, she spotted Percy balanced rather precariously on one beam, hammering something.
Hermione grinned. "Having trouble?" she called out in greeting.
"Oh, I'll get it down!" Percy assured her. "But it may take a while…."
She couldn't help from chuckle. "Why don't you get down yourself and greet a lady properly? I've just come from Luna's!"
Percy let out an awkward laugh, taken aback by her friendly banter. "Right-o, then!" He carefully scaled down to the earth, hand over hand, dropping to the ground.
"Hiya…." The pair leaned in almost instinctively for a hug, laughed sheepishly and then went for it, buzzing cheeks in a friendly manner.
"Wow…." Hermione admired the construction site. "And you've been doing all this work by yourself?"
"Yup," Percy nodded. A beat, and then: "Well, when I got here, there had clearly been some foundation work done. I think Bill and Fleur had been trying to start in on rebuilding the summer after….." He cleared his throat. "Last summer, before they got married…." He glanced to Hermione and gave a jerk of his head. "Come on. You can help me on the stone masonry for the fireplace."
The pair entered what Hermione imagined would once again someday be the kitchen, before moving into what would be the future sitting room. Kneeling before the Floo, she began dutifully handing Percy stonework as well as any other tools he needed.
She paused for a moment to watch him curiously. She was surprised to say that she rather liked his hands – they were callous and strong, yet held in them the softness of a gentleman.
"…. Would you live here? Someday?"
Percy shrugged. "I've thought about it. Settling down in the place where my family put down roots….. raise a family of my own." He chanced a glance at her. Another shrug. "At best, I might split time between here and Shell Cottage – it's been nice to have that old place by the seaside while I've been under construction here." He paused for a moment, sighing. "Even so, it isn't like I exactly have a home to go back to…. I've never belonged…. Anywhere…."
Hermione studied him. "You could belong here," she told him gently.
Percy smiled at her gently. "How can you belong somewhere when you're all alone?"
Hermione reached for his hand. "You're not alone."
The pair stared at each other for a moment. Percy squeezed her hand. "Neither are you," he pointed out.
Hermione had a lovely summer working at her Ministry internship by weekday. On the weekends, she spent almost all of her free time helping Percy with either the Burrow worksite, Shell Cottage, or the joke shop.
All too soon, it was September 1st, and Hermione boarded the train to return and make up her seventh year at Hogwarts. She said goodbye to Percy, who seemed sad to see her go, so she promised that she would set aside some weekends to take the train back and help him with the three sites.
She found that absence, and especially distance, made the heart grow fonder, so one evening in her Head Girls' quarters in the Gryffindor Common Room, she began to pen a letter.
Not even two days later, she was surprised and elated when a reply in Percy's steady hand arrived for her by way of owl post.
The letters continued, back and forth. Every several weekends, Hermione would ride the rails to King's Cross and meet Percy at one of the homesteads or the joke shop. Lee and Angelina had by now moved into the joke shop loft in Knockturn Alley. Percy had been made partner with the business, and they were even thinking of expanding to a location in Hogsmeade.
"You should come visit me, when we have our outings on Saturdays week!" Hermione encouraged. She blushed. "That is, if you'll be out that way surveying the location site."
Percy nodded with a warm grin. "I think I might just do that, Hermione. It sounds rather splendid!" she beamed.
While she was back at school, she and Percy continued to write each other. His letters were erudite, sincere, perfectly grammatical, and held an excellent art in conversation.
Every Saturday week when Hermione led the third years and over into the wizarding village of Hogsmeade, she would branch off from the threstral carriages by herself and meet Percy. When not surveying the second joke shop location, he took her to Tomes and Scrolls. One afternoon, they had a rather splendid tea at Madame Puddifoot's.
Before long, it was winter, nearly Christmas time, and Hermione found it hard to say goodbye to Percy where she let him off at the Hogsmeade station, where he was to catch his train.
She hugged him around the neck. "Gonna miss you…." she mumbled.
"As shall I," Percy nodded.
Stepping back from him, Hermione nodded. "Ride safe. Send me an owl when you get there." She hugged him again, even daring to give him a friendly peck on the cheek.
As she started to turn away, she was startled by Percy grabbing her hand. "Hermione!"
"Yes?"
Letting out a shaky breath, Percy guided them both back into the shadow of an alcove. "Would…. would you still write to me?"
Hermione giggled, smiling. "Of course, I will, silly!"
"I mean…. would…. would you consider it terribly presumptuous…. If we wrote each other – if I wrote you – in a more….. amorous tenor?" Hermione's brown eyes expanded in amazement. But then, biting her lip to hide a smile, she shyly nodded.
"BO-O-O-ARD!" the conductor called.
Percy glanced back at the Hogwarts Express, moved a step or two towards it. "Oh, bugger it…..!" Snapping back, he suddenly drew Hermione into his arms even as he pressed her up against the stone stantion. Hermione's gasp died in her throat as Percy's lips met hers, and he kissed her full on the mouth.
Slowly, Hermione felt her jaw muscles start to move in a manner that suggested to her rapidly mushing brain that she was kissing this man back. She gasped again in astonishment, the sound parting her lips willingly under Percy's, like a flower bursting into full bloom. The couple embraced and the kiss deepened, Hermione's arms reaching up to loop about the handsome Weasley's neck, her fingers dazedly and tenderly, softly weaving themselves into his ginger locks.
A part of Hermione couldn't believe she was actually snogging her deceased best mate's brother, and a bit of her heart that was still bound to Ron howled with shame. Ronald…. Forgive me…..
Yet, as the kiss eased, Hermione liked to think that wherever he was, Ron would have wanted her to be happy and move on, with whomever that was.
The blast from the train whistle made Percy and Hermione break apart, their arms still wound about each other. Percy's palms were at her waist, but had not dared to wander lower, which Hermione had to silently appreciate, even praise him for.
"I…. I beg your pardon…." Percy stammered, adorably red-faced. "A gentleman would have asked for permission to kiss you…."
He sucked in a breath as, grinning, Hermione pulled him closer. "You are a gentleman. And you wouldn't have needed my permission." Beaming and even laughing at his shocked look, Hermione pulled him close and kissed him tentatively again, hesitantly.
The kiss once again deepened before they could stop themselves, as mist from the locomotive swirled around them. Percy had to finally wrench free from the kiss with a POP!, panicking upon hearing his train starting to leave the station without him.
"I'll write!" he jogged away along the platform before leaping aboard in the nick of time. "Hermione, I….." A beat, and then he thought sod it all. "I LOVE YOU!"
A beaming Hermione watched her…. her new lover ride away until he was but a speck in the distance. When the train was finally gone, she let out a curious hum, darting her tongue out to lick her red, flushed, kiss-swollen lips.
Those same lips now curled, upturned into a radiant smile.