A gift for reallyreally! Title: Can You Keep A Secret? Author: TBA Giftee:reallyreally Pairing/Characters: Percy/Penny Rating: R Word Count: 1,407 Warnings: Slight spoilers for Deathly Hallows Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and themes are the property of JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Raincoast, Scholastic and Warner Brothers. This exchange is for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made and no infringement upon copyright is intended. Summary: When Percy realizes that he can't help out in the way that he wants to without her help, things change. Author's Notes: I really hope you like this, reallyreally!
Penny,
Can you keep a secret?
It's the same neat scrawl that she used to see on all of his letters, and she realizes instantly who is writing to her. Who has left that note taped to the door of her parents' house, charmed so only she might see it.
He knows she is hiding – has to hide – and it is a miracle alone that he found her. If she doesn't listen, doesn't keep his secret, whatever it is, she could very well be in for a rough treatment if her location gets out to the Ministry and the Muggle Registration Commission.
If she was surprised by the note on her door, it was nothing when compared to the knock on the door.
"Percy—"
He cuts her off. "Can you?"
"I should think it an insult that you even have to ask that at this point. What do you want, we haven't talked in—"
"Ages, I know." He sighs, fidgeting with his sleeve. "Listen, I need your help."
It catches her off guard, but she refuses to say anything more, her gaze asking enough questions for her already.
"I honestly don't know who else to turn to, and I know they wouldn't want me banging at their door… not that I'm ready to go banging, but if you would—"
"Should I be flattered?"
He sighs, shaking his head. "That's not what this is about, but a good inside source that won't endanger their secrecy tipped me off to what my brothers have been up to." He holds up a crumpled, stained piece of paper that appears to be a Muggle telegram. "It's called Potterwatch and they're helping Muggleborns and Wizards for the resistance gather information about the War… well, things that'll help out our side. I can get details other people couldn't, with my influence in the Ministry…"
"But you love your job!" she cries out suddenly, not sure where his sudden change of heart has come from.
"I know." His eyes are downcast and he is fiddling with his sleeve again, like he always does when he felt particularly silly or remorseful, and he doesn't have to say anything else. She understands him then.
***
It's been three months and every trip she takes to deliver the news poses a new danger and gives a new hope.
After she is almost caught by snatchers and attacked, she returns home shaking and, surprisingly enough, he is there to stay the night with her. Nothing happens and only a small part of her is relieved.
She doesn't yet dare acknowledge all the other parts.
***
It's funny when change comes so suddenly you don't even expect it.
That time she doesn't get caught, but she does get attacked, and manages to splinch herself upon her return, leaving a bad scar on her thigh.
"You waited," she gasped, nearly collapsing on the steps leading up to her parent's house.
"Had a bad feeling. We can't always be as lucky as usual, but it was important."
"You knew this would happen, didn't you?"
She doesn't hear an answer; she passes out before he can give one.
***
The pain in her thigh is gone, is the first thing that she realizes.
The second thing she realizes is that Percy is still there, in her house, sitting on her bed with her and taking care of her leg. It's startling and comforting at the same time, and she realizes then that she really missed him all those years of him being an obnoxious, pompous prat.
"I missed you, you know," she says and smiles.
"I think… I think the three of them are going to try to break into Gringotts. Which means that it's my turn to really do something, try to loosen up their security if only a little, if only for a day. But if I try to get my hands on books about Gringotts and then that happens, I'll be a suspect, and I'm not letting you go on another information trip for a bit."
"I do so very much enjoy research."
"I know."
***
He doesn't come back for a whole month and her leg is better, but she's found nothing. Then, one day, he apparates right into her parents' library.
"Anything?"
"No, unfortunately."
"Try these."
She doesn't ask him where he got the books from, but for the first time in years it feels like Hogwarts again, the two of them up all night working on a paper or a project even if this sort of projects has a much more important meaning than a good grade.
It's four in the morning when she finally wants to give up. "Percy, I'm tired."
"You're not tired, you're just not finding the important bits."
"Percy, don't argue with me, it doesn't work."
"Of course it works."
"Do you remember," she starts, rhythmically beating her head against the wall behind her, "that one night in the library back at Hogwarts, sixth year, when we were working on that project in ancient runes together?"
"Yes, of course."
She sighs. "I had to convince you that it was time for bed then, too."
He's started for just a moment. "Yes, but what does that have anything to do with—oh."
Except he never reaches the 'oh' part. Not when she gets up from the floor and crawls over to where he is sitting and kisses him for the first time in years.
It all happens very quickly, but she realizes then that he's suddenly in charge again, kissing her and very much not the other way around, and she gives in.
Even when he's tugging off her sweater and unbuttons her blouse and starts to pull down her pants, and she realizes then, that this is really just like it always was.
Something stayed the same, through war and work and change, they could always be what they were before.
She pulls on his cardigan, then, daring to do as much as join in, and he doesn't swat her hand away and she grins against his mouth as her hands slide down to touch him through his trousers – those neat, tailored, pressed trousers – and he gasps, reminding her of how much she still loves him.
"On the floor?" he asks somewhat breathlessly as he struggles with trying to tug down all of the material on his body all at once, and she shakes her head. "Bookshelves." His eyes go wide for just a moment, and then he grins and picks her up off the floor.
The books are dusty behind her; dusty and old and worn and something itches on the bottom right of her foot, but it doesn't matter, not when her arms are around his neck and her fingers are tangled in his hair, red, red, red, and he's nearly losing his glasses while he's kissing her here and there and on her neck and her legs are clenched so tightly around his waist as he moves that she doubts she'll ever be able to let go of him again.
It's a familiar rhythm – that's the thing about Percy, everything rhythmic and logical and familiar and traditional, and despite herself she loves him for that especially – and she finds herself moving in the same exact way that she moved years ago and months ago and weeks ago and minutes ago, and it just feels right. Natural.
A whimper escapes her for about a million reasons and he rasps out her name and she grips the shelf behind her and a book tumbles onto the floor and lands with a thud and it doesn't matter.
When he shudders, so does she, their bodies familiar enough with each other to know when to react to what, and they are quiet for about eleven minutes.
"I love you," he's first to say, and she smiles against the skin of his neck and nods, kissing him there, once, twice, three times before saying it, too.
"I love you, too."
It washes over her in a way that she hadn't expected, but somehow she knew this was coming all along – this sort of relief that something in her had been waiting for, just triggered by a simple need for her help.
"I don't know if that's a secret I can keep, though," she whispers in his ear, and she can't see him, but she still knows that he's smiling to himself.