Percy paused at the door, his hand ready to knock when he heard the sound of music. With his hand raised, he took a step closer to the door, and laying his ear to the hard wood, he could hear the tune clearly. It was sad and yet passionate and Percy stayed where he was, listening to the player on the other side of the divide between them. It made him think of Bill and Fleur's cottage by the ocean, of walking along the beach and picking up shells to toss in the water. The melody made him remember the smell of salt in that moment, and of looking in the air at flying gulls, hoovering in the wind.
He couldn't bring himself to knock for a long while, listening and waiting for her to end before he roused her from her position in front of the keyboard. He knew how to play himself, but he hadn't ever seen this music and wondered fleetingly who it could be. He rest his head there, and then as she seemed to come to a close to the piece, Percy realized how utterly absurd he must look to anyone who passed by. He stood, glancing down at the small purple bag he held in his hand and wondered if he was crossing an imaginary line of propriety.
He had found himself purchasing these small tolkens for her, after their brief conversation in the journal. His curiosity peaked at her words, Percy had done a bit more research, reviewing her case and had been struck by the blazing similarities to his own dear brother. The words werewolf attack, and no fear of transformation had struck him; the rest was the standard basic medical information sent to the Department, as well as a documentation of communications between his department and Ms. Lavender Brown. Percy was surprised and a bit disappointed that the bulk of the interviews had been handled by correspondence; he didn't approve of that method at all. The one thing he found that seemed to help the most was for these people to connect a face to a name. And that service had been missed for Lavender; she had somehow, fallen through the cracks.
He had been struck by a sense of sorrow for her. Her case indicated that she was an only child; in comparison to Bill's extended family, Lavender had had the minimal of family to support her through these troubling times. She was exactly the kind of person who did notneed to be isolated and yet, she had been by shear happenstance. Percy had been struck with that as he had prepared himself for work, adjusting his tie on his blue suit as he had made his morning tea. He had a small ceramic jug of his mother's blend of tea, the kind she mixed for all of the family to help with stress and anxiety, and Percy impulsively pocketed it as he was readying to leave. Then, just outside of the Ministry, he'd stopped at a small shop and picked up a lavender bath set, bubbles and powder and spray, and with the ceramic jug, he had the clerk wrap it up in a small purple parcel.
He wondered even as he had apparated to her address, pushing his way through the gate and walking down the walk, what had possessed him to do something so personal for a person he barely knew. But part of him knew it was the right gesture to make. And he felt more confident as he lifted his hand again and knocked soundly at the door.