This Is Not A Love Song

Percy was never much of a drinker. Actually, none of the Weasleys were, except Bill and Charlie, and only because they could hold up their end of the bottle. But the news - the actual, confirmed news that You-Know-Who was back - had tainted Percy to take a drink. And then an hour later, another one, and then another. And suddenly the time gaps were becoming shorter and the drinks became more. Suddenly it all lost its flavour, Percy lost sense of time, and everything was just a haze of discarded emotions and feelings.

The clock above him struck midnight, but Percy did not go to bed. Standing up to fetch another bottle of some liquor or other from the basket a cousin had sent him when he got promoted, Percy eyed a crumpled piece of paper warily. A letter that, no, the letter that had caused him more shame than he could possibly imagine.

He had been such a fool. He had gone against his family and Dumbledore without a second thought. He stood by a man who was not - and had never been - set to be Minister. Percy had believed he had finally reached the top, only to crumble to the bottom and be buried in a waste of hate.

"Percy?" The girl's voice sounded worried. Percy ignored her, and continued throwing things into his suitcases with a flick of his wand. "Percy?" she said again, her brown eyes watering.

"Go away, Hermione," he said, angry with his family, angry with his father most of all.

"You need to listen to your family!" urged Hermione, this time the tears flowing freely down her face. "Turning to Fudge is the wrong choice!"

Percy flicked his wand so hard that one of his books slammed into the wall. Blushing, he muttered a quick "pardon," but said nothing else.

"Percy, he's coming back. We need to stay united. Your family needs you," Hermione said frantically. The sobs of Mrs. Weasley rose from below.

"My family is fighting for the wrong team," Percy said coldly. "They're being ridiculous about this whole thing. I won't let them risk my promotion at the ministry."

"You're being selfish," said Hermione, just as coldly.

Percy's hand froze over his cardigan for a moment, and then he clenched it into a fist. "You, of all people Hermione, should know what it's like to be risking reaching your life's ambition every moment. I won't let them bring me down just because of something Dumbledore says." He folded the cardigan and swished it over to his suitcase. "They're all lies."

"My family and friends come before my life's ambition," snapped Hermione. Yelling had started downstairs. She felt that Ron and Ginny were wondering where she was.

"Our family and friends don't always speak the truth," Percy said calmly. His face was flushed and he looked tired, but Hermione gave him no pity. If anything, she was hoping his suitcase would take a good snap at his arm. "Go to bed, Hermione, it's late," Percy said.

"Please think this over, Percy," Hermione begged.

Percy snapped his suitcase shut, and opened drawers, looking for something. Hermione caught a glimpse of his old Head Boy badge, and shook her head. He did not deserve something like that.

"I can't believe I admired you," she whispered, loud enough for him to hear.

Percy stopped rummaging, and turned to look at her. "Pardon?" he asked dumbly.

Hermione felt the tears flow again. "I actually admired you," she said with a high-pitched laugh. "I thought you were an incredible wizard, with high marks and reaching your ambition. I spent the whole summer last year talking with you, Percy, because I admired you. I wanted to succeed like you did." Hermione played with the blue quilt on his bed. "I even fancied you a bit."

Percy's expression softened a bit. "Hermione, that's -"

"No, let me speak!" she yelled, her tears coming stronger now. "I was just a stupid girl, wasn't I? I wanted to rise like you did. The ministry's a pretty big place to be, isn't it? But now I won't have anything to do with you, Percy. I'm not stupid anymore." She hiccupped a few times before finishing. "I'm not stupid, you are, Percy. And when you finally notice that Dumbledore's on the right side, you'll regret it."

Percy's face was even redder than before. Slamming the drawer back into place, he picked up his suitcase and marched out the door, not even glancing at Hermione, who had collapsed with a sob onto the floor.

Percy finished another glass of alcohol. He had been stupid. He should have listened to little Hermione, who really wasn't so little and knew as much as he did if not more. She had been right. Dumbledore and his own family had been right. He'd shamed himself in their eyes. He had turned Harry Potter down for his own selfish reasons. Hermione had never spoken truer words to someone. Percy Weasley was one selfish bastard.

Percy wiped at an ink spot on his cheek, and then gave up. He picked up the crumbled letter and straightened it out. And, a few hours after the news of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's return had been announced, Hermione's letter read:

Are you happy with the choice you made?

-H. Granger

That letter had tainted Percy to drink. And now he didn't know if he would stop.

If I could only make you see
One reason to believe
I would open up my heart
It's so easy to deceive
Footsteps fall through open doors
Across a darkened room
And this is not a love song
This is no moon in June
Words are few but the heart is true
Still the world keeps turning round
For me and you

-- Runrig, "This Is Not A Love Song"