This Foolish Thing

"Penny, I...I've got something to tell you." Penny. You called me "Penny," like it was your pet name for me. Percy and Penny...would've sounded splendid together, wouldn't it? For months afterwards I wondered why you called me "Penny," for the first and last time, that night of graduation. I came to the conclusion that you wanted to call me Penny the entire time, but was too afraid, too fearful of making this tryst of ours more of a commitment than it already was. You really did want to love me, but you were afraid of the consequences.

Yes; that's what I decided to believe.

I looked up at you with expectant eyes, my poor, naive self never imagining that this "something" you just had to tell me would ever be bad. How could it be? In my eyes, our relationship was going along perfectly: every morning you would wait for me outside the Ravenclaw Tower to walk down to breakfast, and every night we would patrol the hallways together, Hogwarts' shining Head Boy and his Prefect girlfriend. Of course, we never had those wonderful after-hours sessions in empty classrooms anymore, and you never did kiss me passionately like you used to, but the entire school knew about our little relationship, and that seemed to be satisfying enough for the both of us.

My friends used to giggle themselves silly when I would return to my room from our duties, and asked how it felt to kiss Hogwarts' Head Boy. I never understood their fascination; I would shrug my shoulders and answer dully, "It's not that bad." I understand it now; you were a mystery to them, the unreachable, impenetrable Percy Weasley. They found it fascinating that a plain-faced Ravenclaw girl could ever break down those pretentious barriers you insisted upon keeping around yourself.

I always wondered myself how I got through to you, how I penetrated your self-conscious shell. Now I realize that I never did.

You sighed, and nervously pushed your wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of your nose. You could have easily corrected your vision with magic; it was a simple spell that the stupidest third year could muster, yet you insisted on wearing your glasses at all times. I wonder now, were they yet another way to hide yourself away from the world? To hide yourself away from me?

"I'm not going to be at home much this summer," he said, rather proudly. "I'll be training for my position at the Ministry, you know." Ah, yes; the Ministry of Magic, your other mistress. The one you spent most of your time obsessing over, determined to find your place in the domain of rules and sanctions. You puffed yourself out like a peacock when you were accepted, informing everyone in earshot that you were chosen - "and rightly so," you would add - for a very important position in a very important branch of the Ministry. The Department of International Magic Cooperation - did you ever really believe this was that important, Percy? Or did you begin to believe it once you had said it aloud enough?

"So, Penny," you continued. Why did you always sound like you were speaking to me, and not with me? "You will understand when I ask you not to send any owls to the Burrow for me. It wouldn't be...wouldn't be prudent."

I blinked, a bit startled by your latest request. "I...guess that would be alright," I said slowly. "Where should I send the owls, then? To the Ministry? Or should I -"

"Actually," you interrupted, your voice taking on that haughty air that reminded everyone in the vicinity that you were the most important wizard currently speaking. "I would prefer it if you didn't owl me at all."

I was shocked, to say the least. I had known that our relationship was built on little more than spying eyes and necessary appearances, but I didn't want to believe that you did as well. You never know when you will miss something so mundane, so frighteningly routine, until there's the possibility of never having it in your life again.

You continued on; whether you saw the concern upon my face or not, you chose to completely ignore it. "We're going through a big change in our lives, Penelope...we're moving on to bigger and better things. I'll be away, and meeting new people. It would just be better - for both of us, or course - if we didn't drag this thing out any longer."

This thing. We were no longer a relationship, a friendship...even if you said we were simply an illusion together, it would have been better. I was just a thing to you, not even important enough to mention by name.

How romantic of you, Percy; how chivalrous and gentlemanly of you.

I straightened myself up - it was difficult for anyone to look more haughty and pompous than you, but with the years of being close to you, I could master it - and spoke in the most even tone I could muster. "Of course," I said, not allowing the tears to form in my eyes. "It would be rather foolish, wouldn't it?"

You smiled, relieved. "Oh, good!" You exclaimed. "You understand. I thought you would be dreadful about this."

I wanted to be; oh, God, how I wanted to be. I wanted to scream at you, throw you to the ground and beat you senseless with your own wand until the pain welling in my chest went away with each blow. But I had too much dignity for that. I was carefully taught - taught by the best - to keep my emotions inside, and to never show my true feelings to those of importance.

Why, I had learned that from you, Percy.

"It's completely understandable," I spat out my words with an awful disdain that coursed through my body. "We both have to...move on from school, don't we? Foolish schooltime crushes and all..."

"Completely silly, they were," you chuckled, and I wanted to hurt you, force you to choke upon your own pretentious words, not because you were wrong, but because you were absolutely, unquestionably right. What we had in Hogwarts was completely silly, as you had put it - putting on airs, keeping with appearances - it was something that was consuming us, covering us with its false security. I had liked that security, and I believed you did as well. But perhaps you were the only one out of the two of us who could decide that we needed to move on.

You straightened your glasses again, and took a quick glance at your wristwatch. "Well, I better be going," you said, as if you had somewhere much more important to be. "I've got to get back to my room and change. Going straight to the Ministry after this, you know." As if he hadn't mentioned that to me countless times before. He turned to go, taking a few quick but unhurried steps forward, before turning back to me and saying, "I'll be seeing you on the train, I suppose. Have a good summer!"

Your parting words stank of propriety. After all the times we shared, after a relationship that was never meant to last, all you had to say was a string of empty words you speak to a stranger.

Did I have feelings for you? I couldn't say. Did you have any for me, even on those nights when you whispered sweet nothings into my ear, and told me we would be together, always? That question is left unanswered between us as well.

And as I watched you move swiftly away, back to the castle to change into your Ministry attire, I realized that I was the one who remained standing on the lawn, not moving on at all.