Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Post Battle of Hogwarts.
Summary: He thought he had left that life behind. Then he met her when he least expected. His regrets were innumerable. His sins, countless beyond atonement. A Character study. AU.
"Remember to Breathe In"
Breathe in.
The thudding in his chest sounded far too loud. What he was seeing couldn't be true. It wasn't real. But then, whyher?
Out of all of them she was the least likely to look for him. Yet, the most likely to find him. Hands clenched for a wand he no longer kept. He regretted that years of quiet muggle life had blunted his vigilance.
He waited for this uneasy standoff to end. Even in a carriage packed with commuters they were alone.
His stop was coming up.
Brown eyes, questioning, searched out his own.
"Percy?"
Breathe out.
Chapter 1: Breathe In
His sins, like stars, beyond all reckoning,
Percy swallowed, throat dry. The sound of his name on her lips sent a shiver down his spine. He hadn't heard it in years—not like this.
Breathe in.
He willed himself to remain calm, to slip back into the skin of the man he'd become. The one who blended into the sea of muggles, invisible and unremarkable. But Hermione's gaze pierced through the disguise, sharp as ever.
"Miss Granger," he murmured, voice steady despite the panic bubbling under his skin. Formal, distant. Perhaps it would throw her off.
Her brow furrowed, lips twitching as though she might laugh or cry. "Hermione," she corrected. "Since when do you—?" She stopped, her words catching like a hook in her throat. She studied him again, searching for answers in the lines of his face.
The train jolted as it slowed, his stop approaching. He rose too quickly, almost losing his balance, clutching the pole for support. "I have to go."
"Percy, wait." Her hand darted out, fingers brushing his sleeve. It was electric—a reminder of everything he'd left behind. "You can't just walk away."
Breathe out.
He looked down at her hand, then into her eyes. "I already did."
The doors hissed open, and Percy stepped off the train, leaving Hermione staring after him, words unspoken and questions unanswered.
She didn't follow.
She pressed her hand into a fist, the captured warmth of his coat lingering on her palm. Hermione sat down hard, between strangers, air thick with aftershave, coffee, and the faint, acrid scent of something forgotten. Her own breath was loud in her ears.
Miss Granger. Like a stranger reading from an old file.
The train jolted. Someone turned a page. Someone else coughed. The doors chimed.
She looked up.
The platform was there—he was still there—walking fast, coat sharp against the grey.
Her heart stuttered.
She stood. Froze.
Leave it.
But her hand was already on the rail, body moving before thought could catch it. A burst forward—past knees and startled commuters—and through the narrowing gap, just as the doors hissed shut behind her.
She landed hard on the platform, shoes scuffing concrete.
He was gone.
Not vanished. Just… ahead. Already part of the crowd. A blur in motion.
She didn't call out.
She just breathed. In. Out.
Then walked the opposite way.
For now.