Percy found his feet and moved to approach Fred, "Of course I want to speak of something important. Why else would I be here? I am not sure I am welcome for just a casual social call. And yes, your flat sounds good. But I hate to wait," and he paused, and then pressed on, "We could order out? Or perhaps eat in? What do you have? I can make something for us, certainly, if you'd rather."
Percy didn't mean to sound to rushed, but he did want to lay out what was on his mind, so that they had time to devise a solid plan. Percy expected Fred and George had discussed this and had their own ideas, which suited Percy well enough. But he was growing weary of waiting. And he could make Fred something to eat; Percy was a good cook, even if his brothers did not know it. He was a tad less nervous now, but not at ease; Percy hadn't been in the shop in weeks, and before that visit, in years. And while he trusted his brother at the present, he knew that Fred was probably at the head of a long line of people vexed with himself; he was certain Penny was in said line, and that thought made his insides wince again. Penny's words to him were startling still, and he wondered if she realized she had slipped, in writing and sharing something so intimate with him after all of this time.
Percy wanted to see her, rather desperately. He wanted to send her more flowers, and do crazy rash things to draw her attention and change her mind. But instead, he chose the rational path, his brothers. That notion sounded like an oxymoronic statement in his brain; he shook his head slightly, a twitch of a smirk playing at his lips.