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thegirlwhowrites642 · 2 years

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Percy and Audrey through the years

Summary: Once he insulted a stranger and seven years later he proposed to a crazy painter.

Canon complaint

Warnings: panic attack; brief mention of suicide; sexual situations and sex-related language (T rated)

Read also on AO3

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1994

Audrey observes him from afar, this guy she is supposed to work with. The old lady who accompanied her until this point has vanished and, while she is not thrilled at the idea of having to introduce herself, she is also slightly glad she is not around anymore seeing that she completely forgot her name a second after she said it. Audrey is vaguely aware that one of these days her complete inability to remember new people's names will become an actual problem, but she really can't help it. They just don't stick.

She supposes he's good-looking in a very low-key kind of way. He seems to have spent a lot of time perfectly adjusting his red hair, but there's still a rebel lock on his forehead. He looks very focused on whatever is the document he is reading, his glasses are slowly falling down his long nose. There are three mugs on his desk. Perhaps a tea addict? Look at that, she already has something in common with her colleague. She is sure they'll get along splendidly.

She finally approaches his desk while she blows away her dark bangs from her grey eyes. She is still not sure what made her believe cutting her own bangs was a great idea.

"Good morning." she salutes cheerfully. "I'm Audrey Bennett. They told me we are going to work together." he finally raises his blue eyes on hers, his tin lips pressed to each other, he is looking at her outstretched hand. He does not take it.

"I'm Percy Weasley. It was nice meeting you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm working." ok, fine. He's a broody type. That never stopped her before. Her best friend Clare is an introvert too.

"I'm a bit lost at the moment, you know, first day here..." a nervous laugh escapes her lips. "Maybe you could show me around?" he looks a bit annoyed.

"You have paint on your fingers." this seems to trouble him for some reason. She painted with her fingers yesterday night, and at a certain point, it became a choice between completely cleaning her hands or keeping her skin. She kept the skin.

"Oh, yes, well... I'm a painter you see, got a bit creative with this new technique I read about and..." she is not sure why she blabbering or why she feels her cheeks warm up, but it doesn't seem to matter seeing that he interrupts her.

"That's a childish hobby to engage in, especially for a Ministry employee. We work for a fine institution. You should show more dedication." he lets her know. His stupid nose pointed upright. Audrey is seeing red and not because of his idiotic hair. How dare he? The pompous git!

"Well, this childish hobby is what I want to do with my life! Working for the Ministry is just a temporary job. A fine institution, you call it? It's just a bunch of entitled narcissists like you!" she shouts in a whisper. She'd love nothing more than fully yelling at him, but she doesn't want to make a scene. "Have a terrible day!"

She hates Percy Weasley.

She scolds herself after realising she just remembered his name.

1995

She can't wait to go home. Her feet are sore in those diabolic heels her mind decided were a good idea to wear. She should not make such relevant decisions before 7 am. She can already smell the flowery products she'll use for her well-deserved bath. She bought them the other day at this adorable little shop in one of those charming streets adjacent to Diagon Alley. She looks at her watch. Yes, she has time for a bath before her dinner with Patrick. They just started going out, he is the most adorable bloke. It's while she's completely lost in her plans that something stops her. There's a weird sound, and it's coming out of one of the broom closets. She puts her ear on the door. Her mother always says her curiosity is going to kill her one day, she always answers that if that's the case, she'll accept her fate. She finally realises that the sound is someone crying, a bloke if she had to guess. She knows that if a person hides in a closet to cry, they probably want to be left alone, but Cindy, the old lady she met her first day at work, also told her that five years ago, one of the blokes from the sports department hanged himself after everybody went home. They found him the following morning. She really doesn't want that on her conscience. She will just do a brief inspection.

"Hi, sorry to intrude..." it's only when she starts opening the door that she understands who the man is, "Weasley." he's set on the floor, his knees to his chest, his hands in his hair. He looks at her, his blue eyes all red and full of tears. He doesn't say anything. At first, she thinks it's because he is embarrassed, but then she notices he is shaking. Something clicks in her head. He's having a panic attack.

A strange sense of calmness invades her. She knows what to do. She had her fair share of crises during her OWLs year. She gets on her knees right in front of him. Her palms land on his biceps which are not as toneless as they look, and she really doesn't know why she is thinking about that, even less why she is thinking about that at such a delicate moment.

"Look at me." she orders, "Look at me, Weasley." surprisingly, he does. "It's going to be all right. I don't know if you are aware of this, but you are having a panic attack. Focus on me. Slow down your breath." she recognizes it in his eyes, the sensation of lacking air like you're drowning. She had her last panic attack two years ago, she doesn't miss them one bit. He looks scared, like a deer in front of a car. It's not surprising, considering she is probably the last person he would want help from. When they are at work, the time they don't spend on their duty they spend it fighting with each other.

"Count with me. From one-hundred back to one," she tells him using the method her old therapist taught her, "come on. One-hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ..." when she gets to ninety, he starts counting with her.

"One," he says, his breathing functions have been back for a while, and now a violent blush is creeping up his face. She is not sure how it happened, but his hands are closed firmly on her wrists, and her hands are on his knees.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed. It can happen to anyone. Did something trigger it?" she knows it could have easily happened out of the blue. "If you want to tell me, of course." he studies her, surely trying to decide if confessing his weaknesses to his work-archnemesis is a good idea. And then, he starts talking. She finds out he had just discovered his father got seriously injured and that he's at St Mungo's. But she learns a lot more. She learns about his fight with his father and consequently all his siblings, and those are a lot of people to fight with. That evening she discovers more about the Weasley family than she ever imagined she would.

After several minutes of silence, she positions herself with her back on the opposite wall of his and brings out a book from her bag. The book. Weasley's favorite book. She doesn't even remember how she found that out. It's called , the author is some old man with a standoffish name. The thing is, she wanted to read it and then point out to him all the inevitable flaws of a book with such a boring name. But her mastermind plan met a fatal obstacle, she absolutely loves the book. It's so interesting, and the writing is one of the most engaging she ever had the pleasure to encounter. Stupid Weasley and his annoyingly excellent taste.

"Hey, Perseus." she knows it's not his real full name, but he hates being called like that, so it is exactly how she calls him. "Look what I have here."

"How? Why would you-" he is looking at her in the most confusing and intense way she has ever seen. She moves her eyes to the book, and she starts reading.

She doesn't know how long they stay there, her date with Patrick long forgotten.

1996

Things at the Ministry have been a bit... weird, lately. Some sketchy people are going around making sketchy questions, and the rumors of what is going on outside of the Ministry are not a lot more encouraging. This is exactly why she and Weasley have sneaked into the file archive, they have the impression some unusual money transitions are being covered, and the proof could be somewhere between these dusty shelves, which are giving her an allergic attack.

"Bennett, I have no intention of getting you to St Mungo's, get out if your allergy is so strong." the git lets her know. She would love nothing more than to take offense at his words and storm out, see how well he'll do without her help, but she's annoyingly aware that if she actually needed it he would bring her to St Mungo's, she supposes that's why she stays.

His eyes are focused on the piles of files, and he's probably searching for what they're looking for with a precise method instead of her idea of just trusting that if she has to find the files she will eventually find them. When she realises she's staring at him, her eyes go back to the shelves. It's not her fault, really. How is it her fault that when that redhead giant is all focused he becomes strangely fascinating? She has a painting at home of him at his desk working. A very well hidden painting. She has no idea what came to her when she did it. It has probably something to do with her spending every single day working in front of him. It's just a familiar image, that's all.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. It's such a contrast with the Weasley of yesterday morning, who came in with a carrot cake, her favorite, gave a piece of it to everybody else in the office, and then ate the last slice in front of her with a little satisfied smirk, leaving her annoyed and famished. But she is not surprised by how serious he is about their secret mission. She's vaguely aware that he still has to make peace with his family and that things got just worse since You-know-Who came back. Stupid Gryffindors and their pride. Not that he wasn't already aware the genocidal maniac had returned before the undeniable truth was shown to old demented Fudge. She could read it in his eyes that time in the broom closet when he told her the whole family drama. Not that he would ever admit to it, the prat. Just another reason why Ravenclaw is clearly the superior house.

"Could you focus?" he scolds her adjusting his glasses, he does that when he's nervous.

"I'm focused!" she lies, "If I didn't know how important it is to find those files I wouldn't be here alone with you, trust me!"

"Well-" she doesn't find out what he means to say because the entire file archive lights up. The very creepy walk she would recognize from a mile away is way too close for them to escape. Yaxley is near. She can see Weasley trying to find an excuse for them to be in a section where they have absolutely no business being, but the clock is ticking, and she would love to not die at 21. Which brings her to do something so stupid she'll have to burn the blue and bronze scarf she has at home. She pushes herself against one of the shelves, her head colliding with the metal, but she'll think about that later, and she brings Weasley against her grabbing him by the shirt. And then she kisses him. He lets out a muffled surprised sound, but he must understand her plan because he starts kissing her back.

"Weasley and Bennett, who would have thought..." says the voice of the slimiest man she ever had the displeasure to encounter. She and Weasley have broken apart, their breaths heavy, and she can feel his blue eyes observing her in shock.

"Sorry, Sir. We'll get out of here," she says when really all she wants to do is throw a shoe at Yaxley and then run away from any kind of conversation with Weasley about what she just did.

"Do not worry Miss Bennett, I'll go." he concedes amused, "But you really shouldn't be here in the future." the blonde man adds with one of the best passive-aggressive looks she has ever seen.

"What-" Weasley starts when they are alone again.

"I'm sorry!" she blurts out," I know how you are about people invading your personal space. I just thought it was the only situation he wouldn't have been suspicious of. Everybody comes snogging in the file archive..." she explains not looking at him.

"They do?" he asks completely scandalized, and she can't help but giggle bringing her eyes to his face.

While they get out of there, she starts wondering if this is something Patrick should know.

1997

She is not drunk, she's not. She drank a single glass of firewhiskey, her boss was there at the pub with them, for Merlin's shake! This is not something her colleagues appreciated, but she looked so lonely, and there's a war out there! Her boss always reminded her a bit of her mother with those long shiny brown hair, and her parents recently moved to Norway, her mother's birth land, her muggle mother's birth land. Yes, they escaped. Her father had been preparing for a while. They asked her to go with them, but she couldn't. She knows it's dangerous, but if all the reasonable people run away, who will remain to fight? Who will cover Weasley while he destroys the muggle-born registries?

Weasley. Also known as the idiot who is now walking her to the apparition point because apparently, he convinced himself that she can't hold her whiskey. All because at the last office Christmas party she danced on her desk after drinking a bit. When really, she had wanted to do that for a while, it just seemed like a good moment, alcohol had nothing to do with it. Ok, fine, she may not have Weasley's tolerance to alcohol, during the years she has seen him drink an insane amount without flinching one bit, but that doesn't mean she gets drunk after one glass of whiskey!

"I'm not drunk," she states stopping, and he soon stops too, walking back to her. "I can take care of myself, Weasley." he looks supremely annoyed, and she would be lying if she said she doesn't enjoy it.

"Stop whining, we are nearly there." he thinks she's a child, doesn't he?

"I can go home alone. Thank you very much. I don't need your misguided sense of nobility." she is not really sure why she is so angry, but she is. He is frustrated too. His hands are buried in the pockets of his brown coat, his eyes looking at the sky like he's asking for the patience to deal with her. Which obviously only gets her more annoyed.

"It has nothing to do with nobility," he explains. "Bennett, it's 1 am in London, you are a woman and, in case you didn't notice, there's a war out there." once in a while he does this. He completely forgets he's supposed to talk in a pompous tone, and suddenly he looks his age.

"So, you care about what happens to me?" she asks challengingly. And it's a stupid question because, of course, he does. And the feeling is annoyingly mutual. They aren't friends, that would involve seeing each other outside of the social circle of their colleagues, but they aren't just co-workers either. She doesn't know what they are. They kissed, and they never talked about it ever again because it was just a show to save their asses, right? And yet, she may or may not have thought about that kiss a couple or a million times since last year. It's her best-kept secret.

"Of course, I care." his eyes are on hers, he's getting closer, and she catches her breath. His voice wavers and are tears, the ones he's trying not to let cross his face? When she'll rationalize what happened she'll understand that Percy Weasley has a gigantic trauma linked to not letting people know how much he cares. But all she can do at that moment is get closer to him. They are so painfully close. Their noses are brushing, and then she says it, with what courage she doesn't know.

"Why don't you bring me home with you if you care so much?"

"What about Patrick?" and the hate he puts in that name can't go unnoticed.

"I broke up with him two months ago." Patrick had some weird ideas about muggle-borns, she doesn't know if they were honest or out of fear, but she couldn't stand for that. Plus, if she has to be completely sincere, she had never been that invested in that relationship.

"Ok," he says in an incredibly attractive husky voice. And then he kisses her, and he is all over her or she is all over him or both.

They are still like that when she finds herself inside his little apartment, her back against his entrance door. There is something so Weasleyish about this place, everything is perfectly placed, perfectly aligned. Then she sees it, a pile of books on the floor, and a laugh escapes her lips, he's human too, after all.

"What?" he asks, taking away his lips from her ear to her immense displeasure.

"This place, it's very you." she settles for.

"I know it's a bit too beigey." like he already knows that her house is colours and sparkles and plants.

"Don't worry, I'll help you paint it." why she says that it's a mystery. Painting a house together sounds very girlfriendly, and this night won't change the fact that she is not his girlfriend or he her boyfriend, but then his lips are on her neck, and she stops worrying.

1998

The dust has settled, the battle has ended, and it has been won. And what a dramatic final duel, it looked straight out of a movie. It was especially weird considering that the last time she saw Harry Potter in person he was a twelve-years-old who had just rescued the little Weasley girl from the legendary Chamber of Secrets. Potter is now with the Weasleys, who are all close to each other like a pack of wolves. She has heard enough about the Weasleys to know immediately that one of them is missing, one of the twins. Apparently, she was not wrong, that body she saw earlier was of Fred or George, she wouldn't be able to tell. A cold thought passes her mind when she thinks telling those twins apart won't be a problem anymore. She recognizes Charlie, the famous Gryffindor seeker. They never spoke, but everybody knew of his talents on the pitch. The scarred man must be Bill, every girl at least once had a crush on that particular head-boy. There's a blonde woman near him that looks like a model, and there's a bushy-haired girl near what must be the youngest brother, Potter's best friend. And speaking of the devil, she is finding it particularly entertaining watching the man who just killed You-know-Who look at Ginevra like a lost puppy. She wonders how thrilling it is to hold the heart of someone who can kill a genocidal maniac, but then the redhead girl looks at Potter, and Audrey understands, he holds her heart too.

The truth is that she's only distracting herself from looking at the only one of the bunch she is really interested in. But she can't delay it anymore. Her heart warms at seeing Percy with his family, he is not cast in a corner, he is in his father's arms. Her mind flashes back to the piece of paper he left on her kitchen table, telling her there was a battle at Hogwarts, that he needed to go fighting, that his whole family was there. That he was sorry. For what she is still not sure. For missing their usual Friday meeting? The sensation of her heart jumping to her throat is still painfully clear. Everything from that moment is a blur. Her grabbing a jacket, apparating in Hogsmeade, her wand clenched in her hand. She is still wondering how she managed to come out of this mess without killing. She wants to go to him. Be held by him, be kissed by him. And she wants to do those things for him too. But she knows that's not how you should feel about a co-worker who happens to be your fuckbuddie. That's what they are, isn't it? She can't even use the term friends with benefits, the only things they do when they are alone together are fuck and conspire against dictatorial regimes using the weaknesses of bureaucracy.

Then his eyes meet hers, and her knees feel suddenly very weak. The surprise at seeing her there is evident and yet still subtle. He's tired, and his brother has just died. There's no place for her in that pack of redheads.

A small smile appears on her face, she nods and goes home. A clean canvass is waiting for her, and she knows she'll paint the Great Hall, the destroyed walls, and the golden light of a new day.

1999

She still can't believe she did it. Quitting her job at the Ministry was the only acceptable course of action for her after the war. But the realist part of her brain, who always happens to have the voice of an annoying redhead, reasoned that she would probably need to find another job anyway while she pursued her artistic aspiration. Then, a bit out of the blue, she met Sarah, the owner of an art gallery, and they started talking about how Audrey would have imagined her own exposition. Nine months after the end of the war, here she was, observing people drink in her paintings, and actually doing offers to buy them. She feels on cloud nine.

There's a particular painting people seem to be focusing on. She doesn't know if it frustrates her or pleases her. It's one done with a muggle technic, she is not fond of wizarding paintings anyway, that's why hers usually have little to no movement, and very precise ones that are always in repetition. The idea of painting something that can talk and absorb information creeps her out. But the fact that this work doesn't have an inherently interesting subject, that it doesn't even move, makes it clear that what singles it out lays in the exceedingly strong emotion she was able to convey in the brushes. But because this painting portrays Weasley at his desk at work, she really doesn't want to think of what emotion it may be. She hasn't seen him since the second of May. She knows he still works at the Ministry, not that it was surprising, but she checked. Just to make sure he was still him, and the war hadn't produced some unconceivable change.

"I've been told the dashingly handsome bloke in the painting is called Perseus." a voice comes from behind her. His voice. Or is she having a hallucination? She turns around. No, it's him. Flash, bones, and dorky glasses.

"So the legend says, but we'll never know for certain. He disappeared." she wanted to sound funny, but the more she looks at him, the more her voice falters. His blue eyes are boring into her grey ones.

"I've heard he's back. Wanted to say congratulations to this friend of his with a very childish hobby. Rumor says he even bought books about both muggle and magic art."

"Did he now?"

"He realized he had to know the subject better to prove that it was childish. He is a smart bloke, you know..." and she can't help but laugh while he adjusts the glasses on his nose. Is it weird that she can't stop thinking about how much she missed his freckles?

"Audrey," she holds her breath, this is the first time one of them says the other's first name while they are completely dressed, "I should have come to you right after the battle, but I had things to solve with my family and F-Fred had just... But I'm here now, for real, wholly, I want a proper relationship with you, I want everything with you, Bennett. You are everything." she can't believe her ears, "If you'll have me, of course." he looks open, no walls in front of him, just a guy in front of a girl.

"Percy,"

"Audrey, I love you, I really do." and he comes closer, his perpetual smell of parchment invading her senses.

"Perseus," she says with the little rigidity she can master in a moment like this, "do not interrupt me." but he knows her too well and smiles, his lips dangerously close to hers, "I love you, too."

2000

When Percy invited her for Christmas at the Barrow to make her meet his family, she thought he had officially gone mad. You can't just spring on a family a stranger at Christmas. But the prat instead, saying that he really didn't want to spend the holidays without her and that all she had to do to make her mother like her was pretend to enjoy Celestina Warbeck, which confused her because why should she pretend to enjoy Celestina Warbeck? That woman is amazing. That led to a whole debate about music that escalated to them deciding to buy a bunch of books about the history of music to determine the objective factors that make a singer good and then decide where good old Celestina stands. They are still working on it.

This is pretty much how she ended up cleaning dishes with Molly Weasley on Christmas night.

"Dear, you don't need to be here with me. Go to the living room with the others." her tone is full of affection, and she knows she already loves this woman, and not only for their shared passion for Celestina's songs.

"It's no problem, really. I find it relaxing. Percy thinks I'm crazy when I sometimes get home and demand to have all the dishes to clean for myself, but he seems to have accepted it by now." she laughs because, honestly, what else should you do after telling your boyfriend's mum about your clear mental problems. Ms. Weasley observes her with a knowing look.

"You seem really suited for each other. I've never seen Percy so happy." she thinks no one can blame her if her heart roars with pride at those words.

"He makes me very happy too. He has been my best friend since way before I even realised it." she doesn't have to explain further. She and Percy's relationship as work-archnemesis was a beloved topic of conversation that was met with laughter and curiosity by everyone.

"I just hope you don't feel overwhelmed by how many we are. If I understood correctly, you are an only child." she has to admit she was surprised too when she noticed that she felt perfectly at ease around the Weasleys. Each one of them reminds her of the most subtle parts of Percy, the ones he shows only to the people he feels extremely comfortable around. She's lucky enough to be at the top of the list. She thinks about George asking her if she can stop Percy from putting so much gel in his hair and her answering that she likes being the only one who can see his devilish hair. She recalls Ron's groan at the implication that she realised just later she had made. She still can see the Harry Potter excitedly showing her the engagement ring on Ginny's finger that apparently has been there for only a week, and then Harry remembering who he is and asking her to not tell anyone because they don't want the press involved for as long as they can manage it. She thinks about little Teddy running under the table, at all the conversations that went on at the same time at that exact table.

"I really like being here Ms. Weasley. It seems very hard not to feel at home in this house." she is not sure why she said it, she doesn't want Molly to think she is imposing her presence, that she's claiming a position she doesn't have. But before she can apologize, the redheaded woman is hugging her with energy, and Audrey feels oddly emotional.

2001

They are walking on the seaside of Austvågøy, the Norwegian island Audrey's mother is from. This is not the first time Percy meets her parents, but this summer he insisted they should go visit them. She has a suspicion this might have something to do with the black velvet box she found in the wardrobe. Yes, she knows, she shouldn't have snooped between his things, but he has been so weird since Kelly and Jacob's wedding in May, she had to go to the bottom of the matter. She had tried asking him, but he was always evasive. When she had found the little box, suddenly it had sounded all very logical that his unusual behavior had started after the first of the many weddings they have been to in the last few months. Everybody seems to be getting married these days, Harry and Ginny's wedding on the first days of September will close the season.

She still has no idea what her ring looks like though, she wants it to be a surprise, so she hasn't looked. They're holding hands, and the tip of Percy's nose has never looked so flushed, it's absolutely adorable.

"Audrey," he says turning to face her and adjusting his glasses.

"Yes, Perseus?" he rolls his eyes but can't help a little smirk, that's all she asks for.

"You are the worst Ministry employee I've ever met," maybe this is not going where she thought it was going, "you were constantly distracted, you have no idea what a work method is, and you seem unable to shut up for more than five minutes." she is starting to consider that maybe she should be offended, but he's looking at her in such an intense and affectionate way that she's rooted in her spot, "And you are also my best friend. You were there for me when I thought I had lost every person I had ever loved. You are the laugh that brightens my day when I get mad at things that don't really matter. You are my most capable rival and my devoted ally. I can't, and I don't want to imagine a life where I can't look at you cleaning dishes like it's a treat, or blowing away the bangs you refuse to get rid of from your magnificent grey eyes. I don't want to even conceive a life where you don't spread colours all around my beigey walls. I love you, Audrey Inga Bennett, and I'll always love you." her hands are on her mouth, her eyes are full of happy tears, Percy is on one knee, the black box in his hand, "Will you-"

"Yes!" he laughs.

"Let me finish, you crazy woman," he jokes, "Will you marry me?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes! You stupid prat! Yes!" she is on her knees too, hugging him with all the strength she has in her body. Then she takes his face in her hands, her thumbs caressing his freckles, "Look at you. Seven years ago, you insulted a stranger, and now you are going to marry a crazy painter."

"I did not insult you!" he says in mock outrage, the smile still plastered on his face.

"You called my art a childish hobby!"

"It was not an insult, just a mere statement of facts." he grins, the annoying love of her life.

#Percy was born to be in an enemies to lovers #this work is basically a free trip inside my head #I couldn't help myself and I throw in some hinny too #enemies to lovers #percy weasley #audrey weasley #audrey bennett #harry potter #the weasleys #percy/audrey

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