Hermione found herself in a similar state of sleeplessness the following night, and disappointingly, found the kitchen empty when she went down for her tea. She hadn't really expected to see Percy down in the kitchen again, but a small part of her had been hoping.
She read more of Frankenstein while she waited for the kettle, her mind drifting away from the words on the page to the events of the previous night. She had stupidly, idiotically, asked him to join her in her room last night. And for what? She really should apologize, he probably thought she was wanton or desperate after that blunder.
"Evening." A quiet voice from the stairs made Hermione jump and lose her page.
"Sorry..." Percy said, frowning as he approached the table and pulled out his chair.
"No problem." Hermione replied. "Can't sleep?"
"Hoping for another cup of that tea, I think." Percy said, dragging a hand across his face. The circles under his eyes were dark and bruised, like he hadn't found much rest after he went to bed last night.
"Of course. I'll have to ask your mum to get some more soon." Hermione got up to check the kettle, and took the opportunity to pull out another mug for Percy.
"Frankenstein still?" Percy asked, eyeing the book she'd left out on the table.
"Yes. I'm afraid I don't read quite as fast as I used to." Hermione said. She caught herself nervously twisting the tie of her robe, and forced her hands into her pockets.
"Same for me." Percy said, looking across the table at her. His blue eyes were stormy with some emotion she couldn't quite suss out. Was it... grief?
The moment passed, and Hermione felt the need to clear her throat and move beyond whatever they were sharing there.
"Did you bring a book down?" She asked him.
"No, I couldn't decide on one." Percy replied. "I figured if I met you down here, we could talk or... enjoy each other's company, I suppose."
"Right." Hermione said, allowing herself to smile at him.
The kettle finally whistled, and she turned to it. Tea making gave her a much-needed moment to get herself together. She looked around the sideboard for the honeypot, finally spying it up in the top cabinet. Ron must have put it away again... She reached up, and found that she was too short to get it.
"Allow me." Percy's soft voice was at her ear. He leaned into her, reaching a slender hand up to the top shelf and reaching the honey easily. He set the honey down by her left hand, his presence lingering for only a moment before he stepped back a respectful distance. Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd be holding. Her body was tingling from the close proximity.
Hermione gave herself a little shake and forced herself to return to tea-making. She ladled a spoonful of the honey into both cups once the water was poured, then performed Percy's cooling charm on each mug. She brought the tea to the table, avoiding Percy's eyes as she held the cup out.
"Brilliant." Percy said softly, accepting the mug. Their fingers brushed. Hermione felt her stomach do a funny sort of roll. She turned away quickly and took up a seat at the opposite end of the table. She busied herself drinking her tea, her mind racing.
Percy cleared his throat. Then he opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but nothing came out. He shut his mouth and drank a sip of tea, then cleared his throat again.
"Do I... er, do I make you nervous, Hermione?" He asked. Hermione frowned in confusion, looking up at him. Percy's blue eyes were stormy with emotion again.
"W-what?" Hermione stammered. Percy took a deep breath and blinked hard.
"Do I make you nervous? You know, because of how I handled the war and all?" Percy tried. Hermione's mouth dropped open and a blush started to creep over her cheeks.
"N-No, Percy. Not at all." Hermione. She took a hasty sip of her tea. "You came back to us, that's what matters."
"Oh." Percy's brow wrinkled, and he pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. "I see."
Hermione's brain spun, wondering what on Earth had prompted that. Was she acting unusually? Her stomach was doing backflips, but she suspected a far different reason for the butterflies. She was broken out of her trance by Percy's chair legs scraping as he stood.
"I think I'm for bed. Thank you for the tea, and goodnight." Percy muttered. He was the one avoiding her eyes now. Hermione's heart beat uncomfortably in her chest as she watched him disappear up the stairs.
The following morning, Hermione could barely keep her eyes open at breakfast. She'd barely slept a wink that night, wracked with guilt by memories of the encounter she'd had with Percy in the kitchen. Her inner voice was very insistent that she was overthinking things and that she needed to talk to Percy, to make things right. But her Gryffindor courage was currently nowhere to be found as she sat next to Percy, wordlessly accepting plates of food from him as they passed around the table. She stared into her coffee, slowly sipping it and trying not to let her eyelids drift closed.
The arrival of several owls at the kitchen window signaled the morning mail, and Arthur dutifully passed items to their intended recipients.
"Harry, you've got something from the ministry; Ginny, your Witch Weekly; Percy, the Prophet; and Hermione, this is for you."
Hermione accepted the letter, turning it over to see the postmark. When she realized the wax seal was printed with the logo for the Australian ministry, she tore the letter open without another thought. Her mind buzzed and her hands were shaking so badly she could barely read the letter at first. And then she focused her tired eyes on the cramped script of the letter, and her heart sank.
Hastily, pushed away from the table, her letter crumpled in her first. She ignored Harry and Ron's surprised inquiries and charged up the stairs, wanting to put as much space as possible between herself and the others before she burst into tears.
Percy reached over and plucked the envelope out of Hermione's oatmeal, looking over it. He read the words on the wax seal to himself, recognizing it from his dealings with the Department of International Magical Cooperation as the seal of the Australian ministry.
"Australian ministry." He said, looking across the table at his father and raising an eyebrow. Conversation at the table halted. His father ran a hand through his balding red hair, sighing heavily, and his Mother came over to rest her hands on his shoulders. Next to Mr. Weasley, Harry had his eyes glued to the ceiling, looking like he wanted to disappear. Ron looked green and shoved his eggs around his plate.
"Not good news then." Percy said, setting the envelope down on the table. Ginny began a loud conversation about Quidditch, which Harry and Ron joined to lift the awkward cast the kitchen had taken on. The nosy sod inside Percy desperately wanted to know what the letter contained, and why it had caused Hermione to abandon the breakfast table, but the more reasonable side of him enforced discipline and patience. He would find out, all in good time...