Penelope Clearwater (onecent) wrote in disorderic, @ 2017-10-07 12:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | penelope clearwater, percy weasley |
WHO: Penny and Percy.
WHAT: Discussing romance and politics at Starbucks like the good 20-something progressives that they are.
WHEN: Backdated to around 18 September 2017; shortly preceeding this conversation.
WHERE: The Starbucks at Station Parade.
“Two Venti pumpkin spice lattes, extra hot.” Percy smiled at the barista, pulling out his wallet to take a few Muggle coins that littered in with the sickles and knuts in his wallet. (His dad would give him that pursed-lips smile of disappointment. He should have been prepared by separating his Muggle money from his Wizarding money.) But he got the right money out in time, laid it on the counter and gave the young woman in her thick black frames a nod. “Keep the change. Oh, and. For Tad.” She gave him her best dismissive nod and he went to the bar, pulling a few napkins from the holder before he took ownership of the corner table and waited for Penelope to arrive. Most of the other people sat about looking at their phones or out of touch with their headphones plugged into a tablet or a computer. So Percy pulled out a novel. Far From the Madding Crowd. And he began to read. Penelope had been experiencing constant, low levels of anxiety ever since the MRC was announced--and high levels of anxiety at other times, like when they murdered Quidditch players and left them hanging from the goal posts, for instance. So far, Penny seemed to be alright, thanks to the fact that she kept her mouth shut and had a decent alibi; thank Merlin for the American Kowalskis. Still, life had vaguely taken on a horror movie-esque quality; she felt like there was always someone waiting to jump out from behind an innocuous corner and grab her. Which...Penny realized, grimly, was pretty much true, what with the snatchers and their murderous werewolf leader. Getting out of the Ministry for a while helped, since the proportion of lunatics in that building had become alarmingly high as of late. She’d looked forward to taking a break with Percy, even knowing the way in which he’d proposed the outing had worried Penny in its own right. She smiled at the sight of Percy reading a book; being in the company of her friends always made her feel better, calmer, even though she suspected they had something rather heavy to discuss in this particular instance, at least based on Percy’s implications. “Hey,” greeted Penny, sliding into the seat across from him. She took an indulgent sip of the latte. “Mmmm, tastes like October.” Penny was greeted with a smile - stark juxtaposition to Thomas Hardy’s photo on the back of the book - but as he put it down, and took an experimental sip of the latte, he hummed his agreement. Station Parade felt a lifetime from the concerns of the Ministry and the absolutely mental gymnastics they all had to undergo to shelter in place day after day. Percy knew, however, that despite all his secrets, he was living in a place of privilege. So it was incumbent upon him to first defer to his friend. “How are you, Penny? Let’s get your Game of Thrones rating -- feeling particularly Stark-like? Or have you advanced to Targaryen?” Penny had to laugh; only Percy could go from being one of Those People who never watched even an episode of Game of Thrones to being some familiar he could interweave it in his speech patterns in a matter of mere weeks. “Hmm,” she considered the question. “I think I’d like to be up there on the Targaryen side of the scale, it would alleviate some stress to have a dragon companion at my beck and call to take care of my enemies,” she smiled wryly. “How about you?” she asked. “Where do you fall on the Game of Thrones mood meter?” “ … Robb Stark post-Red Wedding?” he said tentatively, offering his friend a watery smile over the rim of his cup. “But I like hearing you getting ready to delve deep into the realm of ‘fire and blood’, Pen. It’s a good look for you.” The villains were gathering round them nightly and he couldn’t seem to hold them off. He took a breath. He wanted to bring her here, to thank her for being his best friend, to admit something about himself that no one but one other knew. Because if he died, he wanted someone to know. “Everything else … I just don’t really even know where to begin.” “Perhaps at the beginning?” Penny suggested. Truthfully, she wasn’t entirely sure where Percy was going with this--he was usually very forthright, and so she struggled to imagine what might cause him such trepidation. Her expression was open and warm, though, as she took another sip of the latte, ready to hear Percy out on whatever it was he needed to get off his chest. “With everything happening, you see.” Death Eaters in the Ministry, the Muggleborn Registration Commission, knowing that he could be caught for @roguemomstaffer, the thought of living outside of his honest self had started to become more uncomfortable. He’d tried to make contact with his brothers, to no avail. He probably needed to owl his Mum and Dad. But the first and easiest thing seemed to be talking to Penny. Because they’d shared a lot. And they’d loved one another. He still loved her well. A pause. “Well, Penny. I, um.” He sat back and wrapped his palms around the cup. “I have a boyfriend.” Percy, honestly, was freaking Penny out a bit; well-spoken as he was, she wasn’t used to him stumbling or struggling for words. She kept her expression trained to something that she hoped was neutral and not too worried, but her mind went in about a hundred grim directions; was it something with his family--or something more with his family, anyway? Was he sick? Had he had enough of their fledgling dystopia and decided to go abroad? Maybe that one wouldn’t be so bad. Penny could tag along. So when he told her that he had a boyfriend, it was the last thing she’d been expecting. Her eyebrows shot up her forehead in surprise. “Oh!” Penny said. It really had never occurred to her that Percy might be gay or bisexual, perhaps because they’d dated, and she’d just assumed otherwise. Once the surprise had settled, though, a warm, genuine smile lit her face. This was better news than most of what she’d been expecting, and she felt kind of honored that he chose to confide in her. “That’s good, Percy!” she told him and meant it. Penny had been worried about Percy for a long while now between all the family drama and government drama, and this sounded...healthy. Stable. “Who is he?” she asked. “It is?” was a bit tentative. He’d never really thought to share this part of him with anyone, thought that it was something he was meant to hold as separate, as his alone (though that thought had never really been fair). But now, he felt as though this had to be known by someone who wanted to speak with him -- by someone he trusted -- in order to stay Percy. And if something were to happen to him, at least she would know. “It really is --” stronger now. He smiled. “Oliver Wood. For years, really. I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now, but it was something we never really thought to bring to the fore -- his Quidditch career, mine in the Ministry.” “Of course it’s good if it makes you happy,” Penny reasoned. “We could all do with a little more happiness, and I want my friends in particular to have their share.” Her face lifted in surprise again as he mentioned Oliver’s name--she’d imagined a random person, someone from the Ministry, maybe, but now that he said it...Penny thought she could see it, as if something made more sense all of a sudden. It was a pleasing feeling for a Ravenclaw to have things click into their proper place. “Oliver’s wonderful,” she told him. Penny had loved getting to know Oliver through Percy, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized that they really did suit each other. “I’m glad you shared this part of your life with me, Percy, it means a lot,” Penny told him with an earnest smile. “But I understand wanting to keep it between one another, it’s sort of a big thing, and it’s no one’s business unless you two decide to make it theirs.” And as long as their lives were all in danger - Percy at the Ministry, Oliver using his position to speak out, Penny with her status - this news felt necessary to stay quiet. It was too special to let someone take and use against them. And he appreciated Penny just automatically feeling it. “There are just parts of us that we have to live as honestly as we may. I know you know this. One day we’ll be out, but there are obstacles which must be surmounted first.” He took a drink of his Pumpkin Spice Latte. “Anyway. Now that’s done, please tell me you’re all right. This meeting doubles as our daily check-in.” Penny supposed he was right--they were all pretending to be someone they weren’t, hiding parts of themselves--important parts. And yet, she’d rather them be secretive and safe than candid and…not. Honestly, she’d rather continue talking about Percy’s love life--it was a happier subject by far, but there was no use in avoiding it. And besides, talking to Percy helped her to think through things, and it was critical not to grow complacent. She took another drink of her own latte. “Alright, I think…” she began. Penny lowered her voice considerably--Starbucks was a thoroughly Muggle establishment, and it wasn’t likely any purists were going to drink of something a Muggle made, but you never knew. “A friend from the American embassy put me in touch with Quentin Kowalski, of all people--you know the American Quidditch player?” she asked. “Anyway, they're friends from Ilvermorny and thought his family would be a good fit, they’re Jewish too, originally from Europe, so,” she shrugged. “He said his parents were willing to vouch for me if it came to that, but I’m not sure it will. MACUSA as of now is outrightly refusing any investigations into their citizens’ backgrounds. My embassy friend mentioned that came up recently. I guess that means Umbridge or someone has attempted,” she blanched, “not for me specifically, I don’t think, but I guess suddenly lots of other people have American relatives,” she gave a wry smile. “Kowalski’s got a good and solid identity, too. For as backward as America’s been about their Muggle relations in the past, I’m glad MACUSA’s feeling the progressive spirit and lending a hand.” Percy knew it wasn’t entirely benevolent. If he’d been back in International Magical Cooperation, he knew Crouch would have suggested that benevolence was the first, second and third step to ensuring any political rot did not reach the homefires. And Britain was full of it. He couldn’t imagine Penny before the entire Wizengamot, put through a sham trial with wand confiscated to do who knew what. It made his hands seize up and grip the fragile Starbucks cup all the tighter. “Good old Quidditch.” “Let’s hope it lasts. I think they feel the MRC is overreaching by asking them for information. It’s a new department, and they’re a country, you know. Besides, most places seem anxious about stirring up their own crazies by getting involved with this. No one currently in power wants to deal with a coup d’etat,” she gave a wry smile. “Sports stars do seem to be rather willing to take action,” she mused--her mind then took a sharp turn to Wadcock and what could befall Oliver if they kept it up. It wouldn’t happen to him, though, she convinced herself, rejecting the thought entirely. Penny scrambled to change the subject, but there weren’t really that many other subjects at the moment, since this one was so ubiquitous. “Honestly, dealing with all that’s consumed a lot of my time. Pretty much just trying not to freak out too much otherwise. Trying to get into yoga, thought it might help.” He reached out, covering her wrist with his palm. “It’s going to be all right.” The words sounded hollow and foreign; for, he supposed, at the best of times he wasn’t necessarily the person for doling out comfort. He believed in living in reality. But there wasn’t much that he could say which wasn’t dire. He had some thoughts about reaching out to others in the Ministry and about Referendum. He could tell her about roguemomstaffer. But it felt like he’d unburdened himself on her enough for one PSL. “I mean it. You’re going to be okay. If worse comes to worst, we’ll all go to Australia with Oliver when he trades to the National team.” Penelope smiled; Percy’s attempt at comfort had clearly been effective. “And surely there are worse things than moving to Australia,” she reasoned. “I don’t think the Death Eaters would really even fit in there, with those heavy black robes and what have you.” “Dark wizardry equates to heat exhaustion, which equates to little opportunity to be a murderous twat. It’s logic, Penny, and I feel it in my bones.” A pause. “So … options. At any rate, you know if it gets bad you’re staying with me and/or Oliver and we’re going to …” He shrugged. “Get an Australian Acromantula and train it to eat Dark Wizards and brew kombucha in its free time.” A little too much casting about for a laugh. He smiled - brief and apologetic. “But we’re probably been gone long enough, wouldn’t you say? Meet at Kew Gate in five and we’ll head back?” The thing about Percy trying too hard was that that tendency in and of itself had always made Penny laugh, and so she did at his outlandish escape plan. Undoubtedly, this was in part why their friendship worked so well, because he always gave her a lot of material on the trying too hard front. “Well, it brings me peace of mind to know we have such a solid contingency plan in the works,” she teased, then sighed a bit at the prospect of returning. “Probably, yeah. I’m sure that in the span of this twenty minutes I have about half a dozen new meetings to arrange and start preparing for with the frantic international community.” |