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Tweak says, "Hi anons!!"

Daphne Greengrass (vernus) wrote in pandorarpg,
@ 2011-10-18 00:29:00

Entry tags:

!status: complete, ^date: october 30 2003, character: daphne greengrass, character: percy weasley

Who: Daphne Greengrass and Percy Weasley
What: Percy's coming in for his final fitting
Where: Twilfitt and Tattings
When: Thursday, 30 October 2003 10:30 AM

The night had not been kind to many people it seemed, and at the very least, Daphne was glad she wasn't alone. Her annoyance stemmed more from the fact that she didn't want to talk about what she had seen as it made her skin erupt with goosebumps all over her arms and legs. There had been someone there, it had been too real to simply be a vision, even though it didn't entirely make sense. The only logical thing she could think of was that someone within the Department of Mysteries had screwed something up, and so at the very least, she hoped they were severely punished for it.

Daphne made it to work at nine o'clock, having gotten very little sleep as Astoria's own nightmares had begun just as she was finally beginning to get comfortable. They had stayed up until nearly five o'clock talking about what they had each seen, only to have to be up again at eight. As shaky as she still was over the whole situation, she had gone to work. People would need their robes for the gala the following day, and she needed the money if she planned on getting those shoes she wanted.

Her first two appointments never arrived, though she did manage to sell a few of the dresses that were marked down. Tracey's was in the back waiting to be picked up, the alterations completed and if Daphne said so herself, Tracey would look fantastic. As she came to the front of the shop at half past ten, she jumped when she saw the red headed man walking in. A Weasley. Of course. Generally speaking, Daphne avoided any Weasley like a plague. Not even because they were blood traitors, and poor, and what ever else her parents had told her, but because they had red hair. The lot of them had red hair, and clowns had red hair. She simply associated the two together and kept her distance. She couldn't here, though.

"Weasley," she asked after taking a deep breath. It was just a Weasley. Not a clown. She could do this. Holding open the curtain that led to the fitting rooms, she smiled as best as she could and directed him toward the first open one. "Right this way. Percy, yes?"

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youngestmformev
2011-10-18 05:13 am UTC (link)

Percy had risen from bed like any other day, not realizing anything had been all that different until he'd arrived at work and heart the mutters about nightmares and visions. It was then that he thought back on the nightmare last night, and realized that it had only been two nights since his last one.

Definitely unusual.

At first he'd had the nightmares every night, then every couple of nights. Now, five years later, he often went a full week without dreaming of jokes, collapsing walls, and red hair stained with blood. It still horrified him as it had every time before, but he'd gotten so very used to the dreams that controlling his reactions to them in public had become second nature.

He'd wanted to stay at work and deal with the fallout of the strange death at the Ministry, but he had an appointment to keep, and Percy Weasley never canceled appointments if he could help it.

He met the sales girl and followed her to the fitting rooms.

"Yes," he replied, somewhat relieved she had called him by his first name. Often someone would call him Weasley, then proceed to call him the name of every one of his brothers. They all had red hair, but they didn't all look alike!

"There were no issues with the robes, I presume?" he asked professionally. He had paid in advance a significant amount of money - that he had saved up for many months - in order to purchase these robes. Dark blue velour with silver embroidering at the hems, collar and sleeves, and stars strewn about that sparkled magically in the light and darkness alike. Far more extravagant than anything he had ever owned, but... he felt he'd deserved the treat. At the very least, Fred would approve.

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vernus
2011-10-18 05:48 am UTC (link)

Only that they looked tacky, Daphne thought to herself as she opened the garment bag that the robes were stored in and saw them. Yes, now she remembered the robes. The hanger had Weasley, P. written on a tag, along with a symbol that Daphne knew meant the robes had been paid for. They weren't something she would ever have allowed anyone she knew to wear, though this was the Weasleys, and they were notorious for being somewhat... different. The robes had been taken care of by Mrs. Tatting, though Percy need not know that she hadn't the slightest idea if there had been any issues. Instead, she shook her head and took it off the hanger, then held it open for him to put his arm through.

Her eyes darted into the mirror behind the man, just to make sure. She had felt uneasy since the morning, and was constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure the Vince-like clown was nowhere in sight. It wasn't very ladylike to be paranoid, as her mother was quick to point out before she left that morning, but then again, her mother had not heard those screams.

Once the dress robes were on Percy, she stepped away to get her pins, just in case, while he enjoyed his reflection. "Is it to your liking, Mr. Weasley?" That was all that mattered anyway, that the client liked it.

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youngestmformev
2011-10-18 05:58 am UTC (link)

Percy slipped his arms into the robes with feigned ease, not being used to shopping in higher end establishments but not wanting to show it.

His eyes caught himself in the mirror, and he couldn't help lifting his chin up in pride. This was how he had always seen himself as a boy. A respected member of society, in the most magnificent robes money could buy - robes worthy of the Minister for Magic himself. Though honestly, Kingsley would look much better in purple. Percy, however, looked resplendent in the blue that brought out his eyes despite the thick-rimmed glasses he still wore.

"Very much," he replied primly, but his pleasure shone through in his voice. "The detail work is quite impressive. Very well done." He sought out the girl in the mirror. "What do you think?"

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vernus
2011-10-18 06:14 am UTC (link)

"I think you don't want my opinion," Daphne answered flatly, and set about brushing off the few tiny creases that were around the young man's shoulders from when the robes had been in the garment bag. She realized her reply was perhaps not what he had been looking for, but she truly couldn't just say what she thought. Even though she was the only one in as of that moment, it would not do well to chase away any future business. Even if he did ask for it. Still, she covered for her previous statement. "Besides, the only thing that matters is what you think of them."

Weasley obviously liked them, or he would not have looked so pleased with himself when he had looked in the mirror. However, she would have felt even worse if she had said what she wanted to say to him. It would have been the equivalent of drowning a puppy, and Daphne did not need that on her conscience today. Where was Pansy when she needed her?

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youngestmformev
2011-10-18 02:13 pm UTC (link)

Percy noticed her hedging of his question. At first he wondered if there was in fact something wrong with the robes, but then he realized it must be the robes themselves she found fault with, or at the least the look and style.

A look of doubt momentarily clouded his face. "Well, they are a little flashier than what I would normally wear, but they are for special occasions. You know, when you need to stand out a little bit. The last thing you want to do is blend into the crowd when you've a mind on a political career." He tilted his head, and tried for a joke. "It's far better than a bowler hat, or a tutu, don't you think?"

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vernus
2011-10-18 03:23 pm UTC (link)

Daphne's ears perked up the moment that Percy mentioned his political career. Clown hair or not, Daphne knew an opportunity when she saw one, and this was a magnificent opportunity. This meant he had to know the truth about those robes that he was wearing, no matter how much it might hurt his ego. Now how to let him down gently? There was the rub.

"Do you have a girlfriend," she asked, trying to figure out a line of questioning that would get to where she was hoping to go. Daphne paced the small space of the room behind Percy, tapping her index finger to her chin as she thought. This Weasley could not have had a woman in his life. If he did, then she would feel about these robes they way she did, and he had ordered these without consulting her first.

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youngestmformev
2011-10-18 05:55 pm UTC (link)

Pecy was somewhat taken aback by the question that came seemingly from out of nowhere. What in Merlin's name did having a girlfriend have to do with robes? Unless it had nothing to do with the robes at all...

He couldn't control the slight blush that crept upon his cheeks. He tentatively shook his head 'no'.

"I tend to work very long hours, and honestly have little time to meet anyone suitable."

In fact, he'd recently begun considering paying a visit to that matchmaking agency he'd heard about. He didn't care for the blood purity angle, as it did not matter to him, but he'd heard amazing success stories. And seeing as he would eventually need a proper Ministry wife to match his proper Ministry career... well, it would also help get his mother's attention away from finding him an all-too-unsuitable girlfriend.

That was, of course, if he could ever find the time to go...

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vernus
2011-10-18 06:46 pm UTC (link)

That answer did not surprise Daphne in the slightest, and despite not really having wanted to, she laughed quietly at his honesty. It could have also been because of the blush she saw, but that actually made him seem a little endearing. That thought confused her for a moment, though she tried not to show it. The truth of the matter was, that even if she did stay in this shop for the rest of her career, it would have done wonders for her to have someone in such a public office be seen in her clothes. And, okay, so maybe this Weasley wasn't so bad, either. Certainly he needed someone to dress him, but that was an easy fix. They could both get something good out of this, she decided.

"I was just curious as to whether you had a woman in your life you were going to surprise with these," she said simply and tilted her head as she examined the robes again. They were very.... Gilderoy Lockhart, she decided. Plenty to look at, but with very little substance underneath it all. The wheels in her head were turning now, causing her lips to curl up into a smile. "Why did you decide on those, anyway?"

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youngestmformev
2011-10-18 07:42 pm UTC (link)

He nearly sighed in relief - that was the reason for the question about his marital status. Though he did feel a slight twinge of disappointment. It had simply been a long time since Penny, and he'd been married to his work ever since. He was foolish to even imagine that the young lady's interest might be anything but professional in nature.

She did have a point, he admitted reluctantly. He could remember several occasions hearing his mother chastise his father with a Merlin, Arthur, you're not going to leave wearting that, are you?, not to mention her checking over of her children every time they were to leave the Burrow. He'd always thought he'd had rather good taste, though...

"I had wanted something in a classically wizard style," he began explaining, in a colour that would suit me, but wouldn't be drab or dull. I actually thought they were reminiscent of something I'd seen Professor Dumbledore wear, except his had been purple and gold, definitely not my colours."

He could see she had something on her mind, as her look was so much like that on Fred or George's faces when they were planning something terrible. "You believe I chose wrong?"

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vernus
2011-10-18 07:59 pm UTC (link)

This poor man. He had absolutely no idea what he had unwillingly walked into when Daphne had called his name. She shook her head, amused by his explanation. She could understand why he had chosen it if that had been the reason, however, he was merely making himself look dreadfully old. The wheel in Daphne's head clicked, and she shrugged at him in the mirror. If all else failed, she would appeal to his bank account before he left.

"How much did you pay for those robes?" They still looked costumey to her, but it wouldn't matter much the following night. Before he could answer, Daphne walked over to a small table where an extra pin cushion sat, and picked up her appointment book at once. She flipped through it, looking for an empty spot.

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youngestmformev
2011-10-18 08:10 pm UTC (link)

Percy couldn't help the instinctive twinge he felt at being asked the price of the robes. He knew she was doing her job and the question was merely for those purposes... but years of being looked down upon for wearing his brothers' hand-me-downs had made him naturally leery of questions of money.

"One hundred galleons," he answered simply. He knew it was a very, very large sum of money for a set or robes, but he'd wanted the best.

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vernus
2011-10-18 08:52 pm UTC (link)

That price was a little higher than she had expected, though she could see why it had been that much. Velour was not an easy material to work with. Daphne nodded her head and scribbled in her appointment book, just a few notes she needed so she wasn't going to forget, not that she could forget the clown-haired Weasley. Actually, she hadn't thought of the clown since Percy had arrived, now she thought about it. Her nerves had settled entirely, and she was feeling like herself again. Odd.

"I'm going to make you new robes," she told him in a tone that implied he had no choice in the matter. "You're a twenty-something year old that's dressing like someone's grandfather. And while I'm certain some people will appreciate that you're trying to keep with tradition, it is no longer 1970. Politics, whether you care to admit it or not, is a very vain profession. Do you know why that is?"

She didn't let him answer, instead she looked up at Percy for a moment as if the thing she was looking for was written on his face, and looked down again. Black. Something Sharp and crisp, and modern. It would look good on him, she thought before she answered the question for him.

"Because most people don't care for politics, and they, like everyone else will judge a person solely on their looks. If someone looks well put together, they must surely be well put together, and so must their ideas and their views. Their appearance does all the work for them. A bit tragic, I suppose, as those with the best ideas may usually be left out in the cold as it were, but that's the day and age we live in. We take snapshots of everything, document the simplest of things we do, and generally make everything about ourselves. It's time we bring you up to speed, Mr. Weasley, and costumey robes are not the way to go. Personally, I think you're quite lucky that the gala is on the night it is, otherwise you would surely feel out of place. Also, before you protest, I won't charge you for the robes I'll make you, so there is no excuse. Are you available next Thursday?"

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youngestmformev
2011-10-18 09:26 pm UTC (link)

He listened to her speech, eyes blinking as he took her words in. Several times his lips parted to break in, but she left him no room to maneuver - metaphorically speaking.

As she spoke, his mind churned, realizing how she was right. He had been going at things the wrong way, wanting to make a positive impression by emulating those he had admired in the past (and though some may doubt his admiration of Dumbledore, it had been quite profound despite the events that came about). He had spent so much time trying to match and gain the respect of his elders... he'd lost sight of the fact that the entire world had gotten older, and he was now part of a whole new generation, one that would want its Minister and staff to reflect itself as it is, not as it once was.

She was quite the observant witch, certainly not what he'd expected from a simple seamstress. Very far from simple, in fact...

"Yes, I am," he replied. He was tempted to compliment her on her logic... but there was one thought that superceded the intent. "But may I ask what you have to gain? There must be a catch. One does not have free robes handed to them without good reason."

Just as he never accepted food from George - there was always a catch, an ulterior motive.

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vernus
2011-10-18 09:47 pm UTC (link)

"What have you to lose," Daphne asked in reply, though as that didn't answer his question, she shrugged. "If you like them, it will be return business for me. If you don't, c'est la vie, and you still get a new set of robes for free."

She studied him for a moment, and despite herself actually found him to be somewhat charming. He merely needed a push in the right direction, and perhaps a little bit of confidence. She couldn't imagine he had very much of it given the size of his family.

"How does four o'clock sound?"

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youngestmformev
2011-10-18 11:25 pm UTC (link)

He looked at her consideringly, an eyebrow cocked as he tried to measure her sincerity. Often upon hearing things such as trust me/us or what have you got to lose?, he ended up with pink hair, blue skin, or hair growing out of places it certainly did not belong.

But she had two things in her favour. First, her name was neither George nor Fred. Second, were she to do him wrong, her employer would find out rather quickly, and thus it would not make sense for her to do so. A small voice in his head insisted on a third point - but he quickly shushed it, insisting that her being intelligent, well-spoken and quite attractive had absolutely nothing to do with anything.

He mentally went over his schedule for Thursday and nodded. "Four o'clock it is." He reached into the inner pocket of his work robes and pulled out a business card, which he handed to her.

Percy I. Weasley
Senior Undersecretary
Ministry of Magic
Floo Call: 'Ministry Senior Undersecretary, Berkano'

"You can reach me here should there be a need to reschedule - it's my private floo." He paused. "Also, should you ever change your mind about being a seamstress, and wish to find employment at the Ministry. We can always use people with good heads on their shoulders."

From Percy, that was high praise.

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vernus
2011-10-19 12:05 am UTC (link)

Daphne accepted the card and felt one of her eyebrows go up on its own. Was this his attempt at flirting? Because if it was, he needed a Little help with that too, though again, he was at least charming. Even if that sentiment made her feel conflicted. She placed the card in the very center of appointment book and closed it. She all ready knew the material she was going to use, and she knew just what cut would look best on him. If Percy didn't like it, it would not be because Daphne hadn't tried.

"I appreciate the offer, Mr. Weasley," she began and pulled the garment bag off the rack it had been laying on. Daphne walked toward him and pulled the robe off him by the back collar and hung it back on the hanger. "However, I've chosen a profession where my talents can be best put to use."

After smoothing down the robes, she cast a spell on them to prevent it from getting wrinkled, and in they went into the garment bag. The tag at the top was removed, and Daphne handed the redhead his purchase. She would easily be able to find him tomorrow at they gala in those robes.

"You have a good day," she smiled. "I'll see you next week."

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youngestmformev
2011-10-19 12:14 am UTC (link)

"I meant no disrespect to your profession," he insisted, holding out his arms so that she could remove the robes. "In fact, I have nothing but the utmost respect. It's just that Minister Shacklebolt and I have been rebuilding much of the Ministry over the last five years, and when we see an individual with talent and drive, well..."

He trailed off and shrugged, as if that would suffice as further explanation. His eyes watched her movements with the robes, pleased to see her attention to detail despite her obvious displeasure with the style. She took pride in her work, something to be admired. He took the garment bag with a feeling of finality, and felt strangely reluctant to leave.

"Next week it is," he agreed. "Thursday, at four."

He settled the bag over his arm so that it would not trail upon the ground, and with a final nod, he turned to make his way to the exit.

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