The cold ground and frosted grass crunched beneath his feet, as he passed the Burrow. Squinting past his glasses at the sight just beyond the fogged windows, he could see it was calm inside the Weasley home. They were celebrating, but they’re celebrations were solemn. The war was still afoot, and they were missing family members, both blood and honorary.

He was one of those missing. He sighed at the sight of them around their Christmas tree, as though looking at something forever lost. Then, with a crack, he had vanished.

He reappeared on the road where Penelope lived. It had been a while since he’d seen her, and he missed her so desperately. He’d made the plan a couple of days ago. He had Christmas off work, and so he would go see her then. Perhaps just to check up on her – though, his thoughts whispered to him what it was he really wanted to do, to say.

One thing at a time, he told himself.

Perhaps he was seeking salvation. The past couple years had proved to be long and laborious, and Penelope was an angel, a saviour. She had always shown him the way before. He wanted to see her, not just because he was still as in love with her as he was before, but because – his hope for renewal drew him to her.

He opened the small gate before her home, and walked up the small path, surrounded on either side but various magical plants – one of which waved at him and wished him a ‘Happy Christmas.’ He smiled at the plant, not knowing exactly how to respond, before finding himself on Penelope’s front porch. He gave a polite knock on her door, and when she opened it to him, there was a grim smile on her face.

“I’d know that knock anywhere,� she said.

“Hello, Penelope,� he greeted. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?�

“You could say that,� Penelope said tonelessly. “What are you doing here?�

“I – um, just wondered if perhaps you’d go for a walk with me.�

She looked at him, her eyebrow raised, and then looked back into her hectic house. “Yeah, I suppose – it’s a bit hectic here, and I think we have some catching up to do.�

Percy smiled in delight, but she just looked at him indifferently as she summoned her robe and shut the door behind her.

They walked for some time, talking about what each of them had been doing as of late. There was a coldness to the conversation. As if Penelope was merely being polite, and would really rather have nothing to do with any of it. With every step Percy took, and with every disinterested murmur Penelope made, Percy felt more and more foolish. Then, as if to make the evening as bad as possible, there was a roll of thunder, and it began to rain.

“Oh, look at that,� Percy said grimly, “Raining on Christmas. How perfectly abysmal.�

“I like rain,� Penelope said stubbornly. “It’s a symbol of renewal, you know.�

“Oh,� Percy said, crestfallen again. “Yeah, I knew that, I guess… I guess I just didn’t see it that way. I mean – � he gestured as the rain began to pound, and the two of them became drenched.

“So, we’re wet,� she said. “We’ll soon be dry.�

This time, Percy laughed light-heartedly. “Goodness, you are so – wonderful.�

He moved closer to her, putting his hand up to her face, and letting it linger an inch from her skin, fearing to touch her, as if – like getting too close to a dream – she might disappear.

“Penelope,� he said softly, desperately. “I love you. I’ve always hoped – hoped one day we might marry.�

Penelope stared back at him; a shadow of an indistinguishable emotion – perhaps shock, perhaps sadness – had crossed her face at his declaration, but it was so quickly replaced with a cold stare, he could not decipher what it had been.

“Marriage, Percy, requires trust,� she said firmly, an anger rising within her.

“You can trust me –� he began, a smile peeking across his lips because this was her only concern.

“How could I ever trust someone like you?� she interrupted.

Percy blinked and, flustered, took a moment to straighten his glasses.

“Someone like me?� he asked.

“You,� she repeated icily. “A man who would walk away from his family in the middle of a war. How easily your loyalties are swayed – and for what? The promise of a promotion? Would you leave a wife – a child – for the same price?�

“So, is that what you think of me?� Percy asked, his eyes flickering with a mix of anger and pain. “You think I’m a pompous sell-out who cares more about status and money than about family? About love?�

“What reason have you given me to believe anything else of you?�

Her glare was unfaltering, and it gave Percy no choice but to surrender. He let his eyes rest on her, watching as water dripped from the ends of her blonde curls, trying to avoid looking into her eyes and the fury that burned within them. In a broken voice he spoke --

“Forgive me, then, dear Penelope, for taking up so much of your time.�

Then, heart hammering, he left her.

---

Dearest Penelope,

I apologise for declaring my affections for you so suddenly and so presumptuously. I did not realise you felt as you do. However, I feel that I am allowed the opportunity to explain myself. I would not force you to listen to my reasons, or perhaps excuses – whichever you choose to interpret them as; and, so, I have opted to write them here, on this parchment, with this ink, so that you may read them if you so desire.

I am a fool; a first-class fool. I might even go as far as to say I am a Grade-A, non-tradable fool, except I don’t know if that would make sense. I’m aware my actions appear cruel, self-motivated. But, I did not do it for ambition or riches. I did it because I allowed myself to be easily swayed by whispers from powerful voices. In my narrow-mind, I believed status and power equalled courage, wisdom and nobility of mind. I believed my father’s position at the Ministry was low because he cared more about tinkering with a life-long hobby, then about doing something with his status, for our community. I wanted to rise up, I wanted to change the world, and yes – I wanted to be praised for it. But, perhaps you must allow a fool such as I that silly illusion of respect. For, as long as I have strived for it, I never felt I was paid it.

I never felt as if I belonged to my family. Charlie and Bill got on well enough, but I was never their companion. When then they left home, I strived to live up to what they had been, and I was successful. However, I merely met the standard they had set, and did nothing to rise above it. I was not clever, nor popular, nor talented upon a broom. Even my younger siblings outshone me; Ginny was the precious daughter, and a powerful witch. Fred and George were the source of everyone’s amusement, they were popular through Quidditch and through their humour, and while they may not have soared academically, they were powerful, and everyone including Mum was well aware. What is there to say about Ron? But he helped save the world in first year, and only improved from there.

I am just Percy, in the middle, not particularly special, and not particularly loved. Until you. You paid attention to me. You thought it was something that I was achieving. You complimented me, and you made me feel as if there was someone in this world who respected me.

Perhaps you were bad for my ego. For, I found that respect was more easily found outside my family. And so, at the Ministry, I stepped forward with what I believed to be my best foot. I worked to please my superiors, hoping there was something in me that would shine. I let myself behave arrogantly; thinking maybe I could throw around names of Ministry officials and my family might think I’d done something. But, they did not. They did not care. The only ones who seemed to find an interest in my career were Fred and George, and that’s simply because it gave them more material.

I grew to resent my family and love my job. I liked being praised, even if the praise was superficial, false, and insincere. I was enthusiastic, and so I became useful to the Ministry; consequently I became used. Penelope, I could not begin to list the number of clever stories and angles they painted for me, further convincing me that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was nothing more than a nightmarish memory, and that rumours of his return were nothing more than falsehoods.

So, when my family rallied behind Dumbledore, and against the Ministry, I was torn, thrown into frenzy. I, at first, attempted to plea with my father. Why should he threaten his job, and possible criminal punishment? Why should he risk his life? What would happen to my mother, my younger siblings, when he lost his job? He told me I was wrong, he called me blind. And, it hit me like a surge of anger – disrespected, again. He refused to listen to me; he refused to see my logic. It didn’t occur to me that my logic was flawed, and I was a pawn of the Ministry. It only occurred to me that nobody ever listened to me.

I walked away. Yes. I walked away thinking my family would see the err of their ways, and then I would forgive them for their folly, and with my status in the Ministry, they would not find themselves impoverished over an old loyalty to an old man. I was furious, but I loved them, and was always prepared to take them back.

Again, it did not occur to me that I was wrong. And now, I am too ashamed of my foolishness to return. I had hoped, that again, you would be my saviour. That, without the love of my family, I might at least have the love of you. Again, I was wrong. I apologise.

They are my reasons, and they are all I have to give. And no, I do not feel that I have justified my actions to you. But, you must realise I am human, and these are the mistakes that I have made. But, I at least wanted the chance to make your opinion of me an informed one.

All my love,
Percy.

---

“I’m sorry,� she said, her voice so weak, it threatened to break from carrying such heavy words.

Percy to not smirk or gloat, he simply looked at her, his eyes wide – hopeful. “What are you sorry for?� he asked, his voice cracking from a whisper.

“For making presumptions about you,� she said sorrowfully. “For judging your actions without understanding your intentions; without even knowing the whole story. Percy – I’m sorry for being such a fool.�

Percy’s heart began to hammer again – he couldn’t believe it. It was a dream. A dream he had hoped and prayed and begged for, but had always, on some level, known it would never come true. Yet, there she was, his Penelope, within reach, so, so, so close. In his mind, he could already feel her embrace, taste her kiss, see the look of love glittering in her eyes…

She raised her apologetic gaze to him, and blinked, sending tears streaming down either side of her face – “I – love you, Percy.�

His head pounded with the reality, and every sense felt heightened, clarified. He was ready to rush to her, to take her in his arms, to press his lips to hers, when she spoke again.

“I’m a fool, Percy,� she said. “But so are you.�

“Yes, yes,� he nodded fervently. “I know.�

“Your family loves you,� she told him. “If you would simply be yourself and stop trying to earn everyone’s love, you would find they give it willingly. Go back to them, apologise for your wrongs, and make this right. Then, and only then can I trust you.�

Percy’s heart fell. “I think my offence is too great to earn their forgiveness.�

“I think it is not,� Penelope said softly. “I’m not saying that it will be easy, and you will be welcomed with open arms. But, they are your family, and they love you, and if you find the courage to admit your mistake, then I will know, with all my heart, that you are the man I should marry.�

Penelope. His savior…

“My source of courage,� he said, and he kissed her softly. As he pulled away, he was trembling at the prospect that loomed on the horizon.

“I will hold your hand,� she said solemnly, and they both understood that there would be no delay.

It had already been far too long.