Time at the Beach (AU; R; Hermione/Percy)
Here is a completely AU Hermione/Percy story. It was a great idea (written for a challenge, I believe) but so COMPLETELY out of character for these two characters that I was embarrassed to do anything with it. As an original story with original characters, this works great! *grins* But that's not why we're here, now is it?
Title: Time at the Beach
Characters: Hermione/Percy
Rating: soft R
Word Count: 4008
Gentle waves lapped at Hermione’s toes as she stood on the bottom stair. Last time she was here, she remembered having to walk to the water. A lot changed in four years. With one last flutter of her toes in the warm water, she walked back up to the chair she abandoned just moments earlier. Later, she’d take a swim. For now, she wanted to relax and let the sun sink into her tired bones.
“Here you go, miss. Anything else?”
Hermione took the glass of lemonade, reminding herself just in time not to gulp it down before she thanked the serving girl. This was one of the changed she couldn’t get over, considering how much she hated to see anyone in a servile position. Ron had told her Percy always had a detachment of servants who followed him from place to place these days. Last time he had spent time at the Burrow, they had driven Mrs. Weasley batty with their constant diligence. At least they weren’t House Elves or she might have to whip her old SPEW badge out. Even though Percy had finally found a sort of power, the kind of power that demands an intelligent person behind it, he wasn’t using people like others who were in his place.
A bowl of ChocoBlonde’s sat on the table next to the deck chairs, a perfect compliment to the warm sun and tart lemonade. The Twins made sure she had a supply of this candy she adored and she was happy to see they were prepared for her to be here. Popping one in her mouth, she grabbed a piece of hair and grinned as a new, lighter strand appeared before tucking it back in its place. It would only be there for an hour unless Fred had been able to work the timing out.
She tried so hard to pretend that she wasn’t vain but it was so hard these days. Money had a way of solving issues like hair, even though she kept her original teeth. They really weren’t as bad as she had always imagined they were. Not since her school days did she do her own beauty charms. It paid to have them done right the first time. As each of her papers was touted to the wizarding world at large, she was out in public more often. This week on the coast was a well-deserved vacation in the middle of traveling the globe. These days, she barely had enough time to take a deep breath, let alone take the time to make sure her hair was sleek and in place.
“If you stay out here much longer, you’re bound to freckle.”
Percy lounged in the doorway, his auburn hair coming free of the slicked back style he normally wore it in. She was glad to see the moisture in the air was playing havoc with both of their hairstyles.
“No more than you would if you came out to join me. It’s too quiet out here.”
It was hard to forget that this man was a self-made millionaire yet was still just the same old Percy Weasley - annoying head boy extraordinaire. It would probably be easier to treat him the same as she always had when the rest of the family arrived, but they were both a day ahead of the rest of the clan.
“I was planning on taking a walk down the beach. Care to join me?” he asked as he walked over to her chair, extending his hand. Her breath seemed to catch in her chest as he got closer. The man was gorgeous. She’d always been a fan of the Weasley men, dating two of them in the past, but Percy was the one who always seemed to catch her eye and keep it. Now he had done the same with at least half the Witches, routinely being named “Most Attractive Wizard” and “Most Likely to be Stalked” by Witch Weekly. His money had something to do with those distinctions, but she knew he was really like
His hand was slightly moist when she put her small one in his grasp. It was a perfect reminder that this was something out of the ordinary for him, as well. Twining her fingers with his, she let him lead her in the opposite direction of the watery stairs and out to the hot sand. There wasn’t as much of it this year, and she’d never have been able to find it this quickly on her own, but it was still soft and warm under her bare feet.
“Tell me what you’ve been up to lately. Something I wouldn’t have read in the Prophet.”
“Or the Quibbler. I think Luna has taken an unhealthy interest in me lately. There seems to be a new story each week. The one thing I do have to say for her, she does verify her information before she prints it and it’s usually over lunch.”
“Will it make you uncomfortable that she’ll be here?”
Hermione had definitely taken that into consideration when she got the engraved invitation from Charlie last month. Seeing the family again, especially now that it had exploded in size since the last time she had seen everyone, had been a delightful treat to look forward to over the last several weeks of constant travel.
“No, I’m glad she’ll be here. I had promised Ron I would visit more often not that the baby is getting bigger, but I haven’t done a good job of keeping that promise. Between classes and all the publicity my writing has gotten lately, there hasn’t been time.”
“There’s never enough time,” Percy admitted sadly, stopping to pick up a delicate shell and depositing it in his pocket after dusting it off. “I’ve learned to make the time. After Father’s heart attack last year…”
She didn’t blame him for tightening his grip on her hand. Even though Arthur had retired from Ministry work, his health had been going downhill for the last couple of years. Retirement was a loose term for the elder Weasley. When Hermione visited the Ministry building for meetings, she routinely saw the gray-haired man walking the hallways, keeping up with all that he was missing by not coming in everyday.
“You couldn’t have stopped it. We’re all getting older. Death is inevitable.”
His abrupt stop surprised her. His abrupt hug nearly made her yelp.
“But I could have tried harder. Been a better son. Tried to understand him more.”
His mumbling against her hair sent tremors down her spine that she tried to surpress. He didn’t need a gooey admirer on his hands. Right now, he needed a friend who could tell him that it wasn’t his fault. As usual, Percy was obsessing. This line of thought wasn’t nearly as helpful as his current business dealings but the other Weasley’s would always be his weak spot.
Hermione clasped her hands around his waist and held on tightly as she said, “No more of that, Percival Weasley. They understand. We all do. You more than paid back your debt to society and to your family.”
When he started to protect, she did the only thing she could think of to shut him up - she kissed him. It was really just a simple touching of two sets of lips, but it was enough to get her urges pulsing again. Just from looking at his cover of Witch Weekly hanging on her wall at work (the one where he smiled modestly and winked), she never would have imagined that his lips would be so soft. She’d kissed Ron once or twice while they were still in school and his kisses were nice, but his brother’s kiss was infinitely better.
“Stop complaining and have fun this weekend or I’ll be forced to do that again.” She tried to make her voice teasing so that she could play down the episode but she found herself glancing back at his lips and licking her own. Down girl, she reminded herself yet again. Instead of going back for more, she struggled for a new conversation topic.
“Think Ron will last an entire week with Draco hanging around?”
His grin flashed, full of merriment and the same devil-may-care attitude that had earned him that first magazine cover. Get a Weasley away from his obsession and they look like that. She struggled to remember who had said that to her and gave up in frustration. With too much concentration elsewhere, her body was betraying her again. Percy didn’t look like he minded her body pressing up against his but she still pulled away.
“They’ve both promised to be on their best behavior. At least, their respective wives promised. I don’t know if either of them knows the other will be here. Could make for some interesting conversations.”
“Have the twins decided which set of girls they’re bringing?” Talking about the family seemed a safe subject and would come in handy when the rest of them got there. She wanted to be able to have something to talk to them about. Getting even a little bit more information about them would help.
“At last contact, no. There’s talk of them coming alone and seducing every female on the beach. I’ve also sent out warnings to have the fire department on high alert. They’re newest joke usually means a set of flaming curtains.”
This time, she was positive he was the one who moved closer. If her hands had been free, she would have nervously smoothed back the hair struggling to escape from the loose French twist she liked to keep it in. Or better yet, she would have smoothed the thatch of hair on his forehead back. She was glad he was keeping it longer these days. More of an anchor for her itching fingers to delve into.
“Have you heard from Charlie lately?” she asked after she swallowed repeatedly. Her original question had been how he liked his toast done for breakfast but that was jumping ahead quite a bit.
His scowl was her only answer. Before she had time to question his actions, he was stalking back down the beach toward the house. She concentrated on his footprints in the sand and replayed the conversation in her head, evaluating every particle of speech and intricate body language. As far as she could tell, she had done nothing wrong. It was obvious she was out of practice, though. Too many Friday nights spent alone with Crookshanks were starting to tell.
There were still a handful of hours to fill until the rest of the guests started to arrive. Maybe she’d pull out that book she’d brought along just in case she had downtime. This was definitely downtime. Reluctant to follow Percy back to the house but knowing she didn’t have any other place to go, she made her way slowly back over the path of footprints.
* * * *
He cursed himself for being such a bastard, coming on to her like that. Not only was she a guest of his family - she was a guest of his brother’s. Charlie had specifically asked that she be invited when the idea had first come up. Seeing as how his mother had once mentioned that there had been something between those two, he cursed himself for even dreaming anything differently.
It started raining soon after he wandering into his suite of rooms. A quick inquiry to his valet, Mars, and his mind was at ease that Hermione had arrived home before the rain, as well. His body refused to be quieted even after a cold shower. Pulling on an old pair of denims and a t-shirt Bill had forced him to buy from the last concert he had dragged his little brother to for some proper “cool” lessons, Percy wandered out to the deck.
When he had decided to buy this vacation house, he knew he wanted some large, open rooms at the top to overlook the entire area. He had been very specific in the design of the walkway that circled the suite, needing to feel the ocean breeze as well as tracking the sun’s progress. When he was here, he enjoyed doing his work in any of the deck chairs that were in the sun. He had paid for this work regime with more freckles but his image consultant (the woman who now ran his life more effectively than his mother ever had) claimed everyone thought they were sexy.
The smell of rain reminded him of home. Not the penthouse in London where he spent most of his time when he wasn’t here, but the Burrow. He remembered it raining all spring, pounding the hard ground with pellets of water that killed as much as it encouraged the garden to grow.
Thinking of his past always made him squirm uncomfortably. He’d been such a fool to think there was only one kind of power. Each time he’d tried to manipulate people, it always backfired. When he’d changed his direction to the inanimate knuts and galleons of his meager savings, he’d learned what true power was - Money. For awhile, instead of hurting his family with words and strained silences, he’d abandoned them completely. Foolishly, he reasoned that his absence would make up for all the hurtful words.
“Dinner is ready downstairs.”
Percy turned to thank Mars for the update, not really wanting to leave his post in the misty afternoon air. “Is Hermione eating in her room tonight?”
“No, she’s downstairs waiting for you.”
That certainly explained the man’s dour expression. Percy was committing a major faux pas by keeping his guest waiting. Not wanting to add insult to the injury he knew he had caused earlier, he walked downstairs quickly.
“This rain is quite the gale tonight. I think it may last forever,” he said quietly, aware that this was the second time today he was taking her by surprise. She didn’t move away from the window quite as quickly as she had jumped around earlier. It made his heartache to realize he truly had hurt her. If he could control his response to her better, this never would have happened. Since he valued her as a friend, he needed to work on being a gentleman instead of a cretin.
“I don’t mind the rain. Seeing as how I don’t melt, it can’t hurt me.”
But I can and I’m sorry. Instead of apologizing, he walked forward and offered his arm. “Would you like to go to dinner now? I hear Cook has prepared a wonderful set of courses for our dining pleasure tonight.”
There was little conversation through the first several courses and neither of them seemed to be eating much. Percy sincerely hoped she didn’t see him using the wrong fork for the salad course - his first such mistake like that since he was nine. It was enough that Mars saw and glowered at him from his position just inside the dining room doorway.
When Hermione declined the fish course, Percy slid back his chair. “Why don’t we leave dessert until later. The fireworks should be starting soon and we don’t want to miss a moment of them.”
“Fireworks?” Her eyes were wide with delight and he felt as if he was being bestowed with a knighthood just for offering. “I adore fireworks.”
“They’re putting on a show each night this month. It attracts quite a few tourists considering they’re some of the best light displays on the continent.”
He saw the question in her eyes, but smiled as if he didn’t. Let her speculate about who paid for them and where they came from. It had been something he’d done as much for his own enjoyment as for his brothers’ business. It was an excellent product they produced so he wasn’t sorry he’d followed through with the idea.
Hermione started to walk for the front door when he stopped her. “Let’s go up to the roof. The viewing is better up there.”
In an uncharacteristically docile move, her second such of the day, she followed him up the wide stairs. He would have worried if he hadn’t been so eager to show off his portion of the house. His foolish pride almost kept him from seeing her bright eyes as he turned to catch her reaction to his sitting room.
“What is it?”
She shook her head; a hank of hair falling down her back at the violent movement loosened the pile of hair that had been threatening to collapse all day. It amazed him that parts of the Hermione he remembered still existed beyond the new varnished and coiffed exterior. At this moment, she was less the Professor and world-renowned theorist and more the girl who had helped topple Voldemort with nothing but her quick wit and sharp memory.
“This way?” she asked hoarsely, pointing to one of the open doorways. He nodded, following her out to the shadowed deck after dousing the lights. It was going to a long night if neither of them was going to talk.
“Hermione -“
Before he could get any further into his apology, she shushed him. “Not now,” she whispered, her voice still ragged.
The first crash of color and sound ripped through the night sky. He’d seen the display every night this week so he sat back and concentrated on the woman beside him. Part of him wanted her to enjoy herself in peace while the other wanted to know why she had tears glittering in her eyes. There was also a small part left over that wanted dessert but he had convinced that part to be quiet for the time being. It wasn’t like he didn’t get dessert every night.
In the deadened silence following a particularly loud crack, he grabbed one of her hands and held it fast in his. Her eyes flickered to the clasped hands and quickly back to the night sky.
“I’m sorry I’m not Charlie,” he whispered close to her ear, tugging her hair so that it fell around her shoulders.
“I never wanted you t be Charlie,” she whispered back. “You make a nicer Percy.”
“He’s a much better catch than I do. Stable. Stays in one place. Has a good job. I could lose everything tomorrow and be back to square one.”
“But you won’t. Once you set your mind on something, you’re like a Red Cap.”
He puzzled over the imagery, wondering what made her think of such an animal when she thought of him. His hair, perhaps? Surely she didn’t think he randomly beat people to death? It took him a full five minutes to realize that he had let her lapse back into silence as he was locked in his own thoughts.
“Would you really be happy with Charlie? He’s nice as brothers go but a bit dull, I think.”
She finally turned to look at him, the tears starting to roll off her chin. Crying in the dark was much more becoming for her as it hid the splotched cheeks he knew he would be able to see if there was more light.
“Why are you asking me think like this?” she asked, her free hand going to her chest as if her heart hurt and she could grab it out and keep it safe. “Are you deliberately trying to hurt me? Charlie and I were over almost as soon as we started and I’d like to keep it like that, if you don’t mind. I don’t know what I said to you to make you act like this but I think I’d like to leave now. Please let go of my hand.”
He refused her wishes and pulled her onto his lap when she tried to get enough leverage behind her tugging to get her hand free. There was no way he was going to let her leave until he made this better. It seemed he was the problem after all, not his brother.
“Tell me why Charlie wanted to invite you here this week.” His voice was low and insistent, much like it was when he was demanding figures and calculations. When it came to things concerning Hermione, he had let himself assume quite a few details. He, of all people, should have realized assumption was must like laziness. Fireworks bursts reflected off the tears on her face, softening the plans of her cheeks while they also added shadows to her eyes.
“He had been by to visit when I was in Istanbul and seemed concerned that my schedule was too hectic. When he offered me a chance to relax with his family, I took him up on the offer. If I’m in the way…”
This time, he stopped her words with a kiss, of which the only thing delicate was his father soft hold on her hand. He wanted her to walk away if she didn’t want him the way he hoped this kiss let her know how much he wanted her - desired her. Now that there was no family standing in his way, he had nothing to worry about. If there were anything else in his path, he’d soon clear it out of the way. Maybe he was more like a Red Cap than he had first thought.
His heart plummeted to his dessert-deprived stomach when she took her hand from his, but it jumped back into place when the hand joined the other in his hair. For the first time, he was glad he hadn’t had the time to get it cut lately. Mars had offered to trim it up but he had declined, as he didn’t like the way his valet made it fall. He used his hands to stroke up and down the smooth skin of her neck, stopping to feel the pulse jumping erratically just out of reach.
When she let him pull away, he took a deep breath and smiled at her. “Stay with me this week. Give me a chance to convince you to stay.”
“You don’t need to convince me. I’ll move my things up here tomorrow morning.”
He shook his head, searching for the words. “No, convince you to stay for…for the rest of it.”
“Rest of what?” There was no question in her eyes as she brought her hand down to cradle his jaw. She knew what he was trying to say but was going to make him say it out loud even when he said it to few others. His future was in the here and now as he concentrated on the past to try to shape the future. Everything past this moment was negligible for his current life.
But for her…
“Forever.” The gruffness in his voice refused to go away even as he tried to clear his throat. “Give me a chance to convince you I’ve changed.”
“No more apologizing. Don’t make me kiss you again.”
Neither of them needed lights to find the bed, other than the fireworks, once they were done with the current round of kissing and other wonderful things they discovered tongues and lips could do. It proved to be a fruitful evening all around, as questions were answered. Hermione was happy to find that Percy took this toast very similar to the way she had hers every morning and Percy discovered just how much sound the clap of the fireworks drowned out.
* * * *
“Melinda, please move Miss Hermione’s things into Master Percy’s suite this afternoon while they’re out on the beach.” Mars entered the kitchen in his customary still way, disturbing very little around him as he got a glass of water.
“But those rooms were specifically made up for her on Mrs. Weasley’s request.” The first made knew better than to question her superior but she was clearly flustered by the request. “There are rules,” she tried again, in a small voice.
An unaccustomed smile, small as it was, graced the thin man’s face. “Some rules are meant to be broken.”
Title: Time at the Beach
Characters: Hermione/Percy
Rating: soft R
Word Count: 4008
Gentle waves lapped at Hermione’s toes as she stood on the bottom stair. Last time she was here, she remembered having to walk to the water. A lot changed in four years. With one last flutter of her toes in the warm water, she walked back up to the chair she abandoned just moments earlier. Later, she’d take a swim. For now, she wanted to relax and let the sun sink into her tired bones.
“Here you go, miss. Anything else?”
Hermione took the glass of lemonade, reminding herself just in time not to gulp it down before she thanked the serving girl. This was one of the changed she couldn’t get over, considering how much she hated to see anyone in a servile position. Ron had told her Percy always had a detachment of servants who followed him from place to place these days. Last time he had spent time at the Burrow, they had driven Mrs. Weasley batty with their constant diligence. At least they weren’t House Elves or she might have to whip her old SPEW badge out. Even though Percy had finally found a sort of power, the kind of power that demands an intelligent person behind it, he wasn’t using people like others who were in his place.
A bowl of ChocoBlonde’s sat on the table next to the deck chairs, a perfect compliment to the warm sun and tart lemonade. The Twins made sure she had a supply of this candy she adored and she was happy to see they were prepared for her to be here. Popping one in her mouth, she grabbed a piece of hair and grinned as a new, lighter strand appeared before tucking it back in its place. It would only be there for an hour unless Fred had been able to work the timing out.
She tried so hard to pretend that she wasn’t vain but it was so hard these days. Money had a way of solving issues like hair, even though she kept her original teeth. They really weren’t as bad as she had always imagined they were. Not since her school days did she do her own beauty charms. It paid to have them done right the first time. As each of her papers was touted to the wizarding world at large, she was out in public more often. This week on the coast was a well-deserved vacation in the middle of traveling the globe. These days, she barely had enough time to take a deep breath, let alone take the time to make sure her hair was sleek and in place.
“If you stay out here much longer, you’re bound to freckle.”
Percy lounged in the doorway, his auburn hair coming free of the slicked back style he normally wore it in. She was glad to see the moisture in the air was playing havoc with both of their hairstyles.
“No more than you would if you came out to join me. It’s too quiet out here.”
It was hard to forget that this man was a self-made millionaire yet was still just the same old Percy Weasley - annoying head boy extraordinaire. It would probably be easier to treat him the same as she always had when the rest of the family arrived, but they were both a day ahead of the rest of the clan.
“I was planning on taking a walk down the beach. Care to join me?” he asked as he walked over to her chair, extending his hand. Her breath seemed to catch in her chest as he got closer. The man was gorgeous. She’d always been a fan of the Weasley men, dating two of them in the past, but Percy was the one who always seemed to catch her eye and keep it. Now he had done the same with at least half the Witches, routinely being named “Most Attractive Wizard” and “Most Likely to be Stalked” by Witch Weekly. His money had something to do with those distinctions, but she knew he was really like
His hand was slightly moist when she put her small one in his grasp. It was a perfect reminder that this was something out of the ordinary for him, as well. Twining her fingers with his, she let him lead her in the opposite direction of the watery stairs and out to the hot sand. There wasn’t as much of it this year, and she’d never have been able to find it this quickly on her own, but it was still soft and warm under her bare feet.
“Tell me what you’ve been up to lately. Something I wouldn’t have read in the Prophet.”
“Or the Quibbler. I think Luna has taken an unhealthy interest in me lately. There seems to be a new story each week. The one thing I do have to say for her, she does verify her information before she prints it and it’s usually over lunch.”
“Will it make you uncomfortable that she’ll be here?”
Hermione had definitely taken that into consideration when she got the engraved invitation from Charlie last month. Seeing the family again, especially now that it had exploded in size since the last time she had seen everyone, had been a delightful treat to look forward to over the last several weeks of constant travel.
“No, I’m glad she’ll be here. I had promised Ron I would visit more often not that the baby is getting bigger, but I haven’t done a good job of keeping that promise. Between classes and all the publicity my writing has gotten lately, there hasn’t been time.”
“There’s never enough time,” Percy admitted sadly, stopping to pick up a delicate shell and depositing it in his pocket after dusting it off. “I’ve learned to make the time. After Father’s heart attack last year…”
She didn’t blame him for tightening his grip on her hand. Even though Arthur had retired from Ministry work, his health had been going downhill for the last couple of years. Retirement was a loose term for the elder Weasley. When Hermione visited the Ministry building for meetings, she routinely saw the gray-haired man walking the hallways, keeping up with all that he was missing by not coming in everyday.
“You couldn’t have stopped it. We’re all getting older. Death is inevitable.”
His abrupt stop surprised her. His abrupt hug nearly made her yelp.
“But I could have tried harder. Been a better son. Tried to understand him more.”
His mumbling against her hair sent tremors down her spine that she tried to surpress. He didn’t need a gooey admirer on his hands. Right now, he needed a friend who could tell him that it wasn’t his fault. As usual, Percy was obsessing. This line of thought wasn’t nearly as helpful as his current business dealings but the other Weasley’s would always be his weak spot.
Hermione clasped her hands around his waist and held on tightly as she said, “No more of that, Percival Weasley. They understand. We all do. You more than paid back your debt to society and to your family.”
When he started to protect, she did the only thing she could think of to shut him up - she kissed him. It was really just a simple touching of two sets of lips, but it was enough to get her urges pulsing again. Just from looking at his cover of Witch Weekly hanging on her wall at work (the one where he smiled modestly and winked), she never would have imagined that his lips would be so soft. She’d kissed Ron once or twice while they were still in school and his kisses were nice, but his brother’s kiss was infinitely better.
“Stop complaining and have fun this weekend or I’ll be forced to do that again.” She tried to make her voice teasing so that she could play down the episode but she found herself glancing back at his lips and licking her own. Down girl, she reminded herself yet again. Instead of going back for more, she struggled for a new conversation topic.
“Think Ron will last an entire week with Draco hanging around?”
His grin flashed, full of merriment and the same devil-may-care attitude that had earned him that first magazine cover. Get a Weasley away from his obsession and they look like that. She struggled to remember who had said that to her and gave up in frustration. With too much concentration elsewhere, her body was betraying her again. Percy didn’t look like he minded her body pressing up against his but she still pulled away.
“They’ve both promised to be on their best behavior. At least, their respective wives promised. I don’t know if either of them knows the other will be here. Could make for some interesting conversations.”
“Have the twins decided which set of girls they’re bringing?” Talking about the family seemed a safe subject and would come in handy when the rest of them got there. She wanted to be able to have something to talk to them about. Getting even a little bit more information about them would help.
“At last contact, no. There’s talk of them coming alone and seducing every female on the beach. I’ve also sent out warnings to have the fire department on high alert. They’re newest joke usually means a set of flaming curtains.”
This time, she was positive he was the one who moved closer. If her hands had been free, she would have nervously smoothed back the hair struggling to escape from the loose French twist she liked to keep it in. Or better yet, she would have smoothed the thatch of hair on his forehead back. She was glad he was keeping it longer these days. More of an anchor for her itching fingers to delve into.
“Have you heard from Charlie lately?” she asked after she swallowed repeatedly. Her original question had been how he liked his toast done for breakfast but that was jumping ahead quite a bit.
His scowl was her only answer. Before she had time to question his actions, he was stalking back down the beach toward the house. She concentrated on his footprints in the sand and replayed the conversation in her head, evaluating every particle of speech and intricate body language. As far as she could tell, she had done nothing wrong. It was obvious she was out of practice, though. Too many Friday nights spent alone with Crookshanks were starting to tell.
There were still a handful of hours to fill until the rest of the guests started to arrive. Maybe she’d pull out that book she’d brought along just in case she had downtime. This was definitely downtime. Reluctant to follow Percy back to the house but knowing she didn’t have any other place to go, she made her way slowly back over the path of footprints.
* * * *
He cursed himself for being such a bastard, coming on to her like that. Not only was she a guest of his family - she was a guest of his brother’s. Charlie had specifically asked that she be invited when the idea had first come up. Seeing as how his mother had once mentioned that there had been something between those two, he cursed himself for even dreaming anything differently.
It started raining soon after he wandering into his suite of rooms. A quick inquiry to his valet, Mars, and his mind was at ease that Hermione had arrived home before the rain, as well. His body refused to be quieted even after a cold shower. Pulling on an old pair of denims and a t-shirt Bill had forced him to buy from the last concert he had dragged his little brother to for some proper “cool” lessons, Percy wandered out to the deck.
When he had decided to buy this vacation house, he knew he wanted some large, open rooms at the top to overlook the entire area. He had been very specific in the design of the walkway that circled the suite, needing to feel the ocean breeze as well as tracking the sun’s progress. When he was here, he enjoyed doing his work in any of the deck chairs that were in the sun. He had paid for this work regime with more freckles but his image consultant (the woman who now ran his life more effectively than his mother ever had) claimed everyone thought they were sexy.
The smell of rain reminded him of home. Not the penthouse in London where he spent most of his time when he wasn’t here, but the Burrow. He remembered it raining all spring, pounding the hard ground with pellets of water that killed as much as it encouraged the garden to grow.
Thinking of his past always made him squirm uncomfortably. He’d been such a fool to think there was only one kind of power. Each time he’d tried to manipulate people, it always backfired. When he’d changed his direction to the inanimate knuts and galleons of his meager savings, he’d learned what true power was - Money. For awhile, instead of hurting his family with words and strained silences, he’d abandoned them completely. Foolishly, he reasoned that his absence would make up for all the hurtful words.
“Dinner is ready downstairs.”
Percy turned to thank Mars for the update, not really wanting to leave his post in the misty afternoon air. “Is Hermione eating in her room tonight?”
“No, she’s downstairs waiting for you.”
That certainly explained the man’s dour expression. Percy was committing a major faux pas by keeping his guest waiting. Not wanting to add insult to the injury he knew he had caused earlier, he walked downstairs quickly.
“This rain is quite the gale tonight. I think it may last forever,” he said quietly, aware that this was the second time today he was taking her by surprise. She didn’t move away from the window quite as quickly as she had jumped around earlier. It made his heartache to realize he truly had hurt her. If he could control his response to her better, this never would have happened. Since he valued her as a friend, he needed to work on being a gentleman instead of a cretin.
“I don’t mind the rain. Seeing as how I don’t melt, it can’t hurt me.”
But I can and I’m sorry. Instead of apologizing, he walked forward and offered his arm. “Would you like to go to dinner now? I hear Cook has prepared a wonderful set of courses for our dining pleasure tonight.”
There was little conversation through the first several courses and neither of them seemed to be eating much. Percy sincerely hoped she didn’t see him using the wrong fork for the salad course - his first such mistake like that since he was nine. It was enough that Mars saw and glowered at him from his position just inside the dining room doorway.
When Hermione declined the fish course, Percy slid back his chair. “Why don’t we leave dessert until later. The fireworks should be starting soon and we don’t want to miss a moment of them.”
“Fireworks?” Her eyes were wide with delight and he felt as if he was being bestowed with a knighthood just for offering. “I adore fireworks.”
“They’re putting on a show each night this month. It attracts quite a few tourists considering they’re some of the best light displays on the continent.”
He saw the question in her eyes, but smiled as if he didn’t. Let her speculate about who paid for them and where they came from. It had been something he’d done as much for his own enjoyment as for his brothers’ business. It was an excellent product they produced so he wasn’t sorry he’d followed through with the idea.
Hermione started to walk for the front door when he stopped her. “Let’s go up to the roof. The viewing is better up there.”
In an uncharacteristically docile move, her second such of the day, she followed him up the wide stairs. He would have worried if he hadn’t been so eager to show off his portion of the house. His foolish pride almost kept him from seeing her bright eyes as he turned to catch her reaction to his sitting room.
“What is it?”
She shook her head; a hank of hair falling down her back at the violent movement loosened the pile of hair that had been threatening to collapse all day. It amazed him that parts of the Hermione he remembered still existed beyond the new varnished and coiffed exterior. At this moment, she was less the Professor and world-renowned theorist and more the girl who had helped topple Voldemort with nothing but her quick wit and sharp memory.
“This way?” she asked hoarsely, pointing to one of the open doorways. He nodded, following her out to the shadowed deck after dousing the lights. It was going to a long night if neither of them was going to talk.
“Hermione -“
Before he could get any further into his apology, she shushed him. “Not now,” she whispered, her voice still ragged.
The first crash of color and sound ripped through the night sky. He’d seen the display every night this week so he sat back and concentrated on the woman beside him. Part of him wanted her to enjoy herself in peace while the other wanted to know why she had tears glittering in her eyes. There was also a small part left over that wanted dessert but he had convinced that part to be quiet for the time being. It wasn’t like he didn’t get dessert every night.
In the deadened silence following a particularly loud crack, he grabbed one of her hands and held it fast in his. Her eyes flickered to the clasped hands and quickly back to the night sky.
“I’m sorry I’m not Charlie,” he whispered close to her ear, tugging her hair so that it fell around her shoulders.
“I never wanted you t be Charlie,” she whispered back. “You make a nicer Percy.”
“He’s a much better catch than I do. Stable. Stays in one place. Has a good job. I could lose everything tomorrow and be back to square one.”
“But you won’t. Once you set your mind on something, you’re like a Red Cap.”
He puzzled over the imagery, wondering what made her think of such an animal when she thought of him. His hair, perhaps? Surely she didn’t think he randomly beat people to death? It took him a full five minutes to realize that he had let her lapse back into silence as he was locked in his own thoughts.
“Would you really be happy with Charlie? He’s nice as brothers go but a bit dull, I think.”
She finally turned to look at him, the tears starting to roll off her chin. Crying in the dark was much more becoming for her as it hid the splotched cheeks he knew he would be able to see if there was more light.
“Why are you asking me think like this?” she asked, her free hand going to her chest as if her heart hurt and she could grab it out and keep it safe. “Are you deliberately trying to hurt me? Charlie and I were over almost as soon as we started and I’d like to keep it like that, if you don’t mind. I don’t know what I said to you to make you act like this but I think I’d like to leave now. Please let go of my hand.”
He refused her wishes and pulled her onto his lap when she tried to get enough leverage behind her tugging to get her hand free. There was no way he was going to let her leave until he made this better. It seemed he was the problem after all, not his brother.
“Tell me why Charlie wanted to invite you here this week.” His voice was low and insistent, much like it was when he was demanding figures and calculations. When it came to things concerning Hermione, he had let himself assume quite a few details. He, of all people, should have realized assumption was must like laziness. Fireworks bursts reflected off the tears on her face, softening the plans of her cheeks while they also added shadows to her eyes.
“He had been by to visit when I was in Istanbul and seemed concerned that my schedule was too hectic. When he offered me a chance to relax with his family, I took him up on the offer. If I’m in the way…”
This time, he stopped her words with a kiss, of which the only thing delicate was his father soft hold on her hand. He wanted her to walk away if she didn’t want him the way he hoped this kiss let her know how much he wanted her - desired her. Now that there was no family standing in his way, he had nothing to worry about. If there were anything else in his path, he’d soon clear it out of the way. Maybe he was more like a Red Cap than he had first thought.
His heart plummeted to his dessert-deprived stomach when she took her hand from his, but it jumped back into place when the hand joined the other in his hair. For the first time, he was glad he hadn’t had the time to get it cut lately. Mars had offered to trim it up but he had declined, as he didn’t like the way his valet made it fall. He used his hands to stroke up and down the smooth skin of her neck, stopping to feel the pulse jumping erratically just out of reach.
When she let him pull away, he took a deep breath and smiled at her. “Stay with me this week. Give me a chance to convince you to stay.”
“You don’t need to convince me. I’ll move my things up here tomorrow morning.”
He shook his head, searching for the words. “No, convince you to stay for…for the rest of it.”
“Rest of what?” There was no question in her eyes as she brought her hand down to cradle his jaw. She knew what he was trying to say but was going to make him say it out loud even when he said it to few others. His future was in the here and now as he concentrated on the past to try to shape the future. Everything past this moment was negligible for his current life.
But for her…
“Forever.” The gruffness in his voice refused to go away even as he tried to clear his throat. “Give me a chance to convince you I’ve changed.”
“No more apologizing. Don’t make me kiss you again.”
Neither of them needed lights to find the bed, other than the fireworks, once they were done with the current round of kissing and other wonderful things they discovered tongues and lips could do. It proved to be a fruitful evening all around, as questions were answered. Hermione was happy to find that Percy took this toast very similar to the way she had hers every morning and Percy discovered just how much sound the clap of the fireworks drowned out.
* * * *
“Melinda, please move Miss Hermione’s things into Master Percy’s suite this afternoon while they’re out on the beach.” Mars entered the kitchen in his customary still way, disturbing very little around him as he got a glass of water.
“But those rooms were specifically made up for her on Mrs. Weasley’s request.” The first made knew better than to question her superior but she was clearly flustered by the request. “There are rules,” she tried again, in a small voice.
An unaccustomed smile, small as it was, graced the thin man’s face. “Some rules are meant to be broken.”