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Author: Antosha Story: Contrapunto Rating: Mature Status: Completed Reviews: 5 Words: 18,212
October 23, 2003 - 6.31PM The tables were mostly set up to seat eight, but the four Weasley brothers (diminished by one best man and one fallen Fred) had all brought guests—to someone’s apparent surprise. With Luna seated there as well—between Charlie’s saturnine friend Bullroarer and Percy himself—they had magically expanded the table, but it was still a fairly tight fit. Bill and Fleur didn’t seem to mind—they looked happy simply to have shipped Victoire and their baby, Dominique, off to Fleur’s parents for the weekend, and in any case always seemed pleased to be in each other’s lap. George and Angelina Johnson were the most ill-at-ease—they spent a great deal of energy pointing out that Angelina wasn’t George’s date, that she had received her own invitation as a friend of both the bride and groom. Percy wondered about how Asteria’s evening was going, and found that in spite of everything, her absence—thanks to Audrey—made him feel like smiling. That didn’t keep him from feeling awkward with his date—nor, apparently, she with him. As they ate, Percy listened to Bill and Charlie laying odds on how soon Ginny would be pregnant; Charlie and Fleur were not at all convinced that she wasn’t already. When they tried to pull Percy into the discussion, he simply shrugged. As it was, some rather somber hints dropped by their mother had given Percy reason to believe that their sister was definitely not expecting. Audrey chatted with George and Angelina, answering their questions about Quodpot, which she kept trying to tell them she wasn’t terribly interested in, and about the American market for jokes and novelties, which seemed to interest her a great deal more. Luna and Bullroarer were having a very arcane, animated conversation about the magical insemination of Norwegian Ridgebacks—animated on Luna’s side, at least. And though Bullroarer remained monosyllabic, his eyes burned fiercely; they never left Luna’s face. Percy was glad that they seemed to be enjoying each other’s company so well—glad that his one-time girlfriend’s mercurial mood had shifted back to the sunny end of the spectrum—but the subject of their discussion was less than conducive to his own appetite. When Luna began waxing poetic over the cheese course about viscous secretions, he knew that he needed to focus elsewhere. Bill and Fleur were taking turns nibbling frommage from each other’s fingers. George and Angelina were still talking about Quodpot, but their expressions and their tones of voice sounded as if they were actually discussing games of an entirely different, less public sort. Of course, where Percy’s eyes wandered next shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him, and yet, as he turned to his right, his world suddenly compressed to two sea-foam eyes, and he found that he couldn’t breathe. She smiled—or at least the eyes curved into crescent moons again. “I haven’t talked about American sports that much since I did a report on baseball at Salem.” “My family’s Quidditch-mad,” said Percy. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with that,” murmured Audrey. “I mean, your sister does play the game professionally. But still—” She glanced over her shoulder; George and Angelina—not George’s date, no, no—were sitting so close together that his bright hair and her dark seemed to be tangling in each other. They weren’t talking about Quodpot any more. From what Percy could make out from their whispers and their serious expressions, they were talking about Fred. Audrey looked back to Percy, her expression one of perplexity. She leaned closer to Percy until he could feel the warmth of her breath. “Fred...? Isn’t... Wasn’t he your brother?” “George’s twin.” “Oh.” The assembly around them chattered on. Silverware and crystal sang. “Listen, Audrey, I need to—” At that moment, the sound of a knife banging against a goblet cut through all of the hubbub and silenced the crowd. Hermione cleared her throat as the last conversation stilled. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced, “it’s time for Ginny and Harry to take the first dance.” Harry and Ginny stood, hand in hand, and walked to the dance floor. As the guests applauded and stood, they took their place and glanced ever so briefly over towards Percy. No—towards Audrey. Then they both laughed, an unseen orchestra struck up a waltz, and Harry took Ginny in his arms and swept her, glowing, into a flowing, spinning three-step. “Merlin,” muttered George, “I seem to remember Harry dancing like a goblin with arthritis. Has our lad been having lessons?” Looking at Audrey, who was watching the newlyweds with rapt attention, Percy answered, “I do believe that he has, as it happens.” “Oh, yes,” burbled Luna, “that was one of the other things that he learned from Audrey here.” Suddenly, Percy was intensely aware of his brothers and their guests not looking at his own date. He could hear her groan quietly. “Audrey was Harry’s liaison in New York while he was on assignment there this summer,” Percy offered as a graceful way out for all of them. He hadn’t been certain that his brothers would take it—not Charlie and certainly not George—but if he had thought about it, he ought to have known that it would be Angelina who would keep them among the rocky shoals. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” she snorted. “Calling what?” Luna asked, looking bewildered. “Dancing?” Bullroarer’s face bent in what looked like an actual grin. Audrey reached across and patted Luna on the forearm. “I’ll explain later.” “Oh, good,” said Luna with a smile. “I usually ask Ginny about those sorts of things, but I don’t know that she won’t be rather busy this evening.” That caused all of them to laugh—even Bullroarer chuckled. “Luna,” said Audrey, “I’m sure you’re right. And I’m sure you’re going to point out why you think she’ll be too busy, but honestly, I think her brothers would rather not think about it.” “Oh,” said Luna, her eyes widening alarmingly. She looked at Percy with that devastating look of utterly innocent bewilderment that had always made him feel absolutely awful. “Truly?” “It’s all right,” Bill said. “But yeah, we appreciate not having to think about it too much.” And there it was again: the bloody wink. Percy looked back out at Harry and Ginny. They looked so at ease, moving around the dance floor. It made his throat tighten. And yet their path to this night had hardly been easy. Percy’s father stepped out onto the dance floor and tapped Harry on the shoulder. He and Ginny both looked surprised, but Harry made a gracious show of letting Ginny dance with her father, watching the two of them with a rather misty-looking grin before turning to his new mother-in-law and waltzing her onto the floor. Hermione and Ron followed, and the rout began: cousins and friends began to take to the floor. “Viens,” said Bill to his wife, “danser avec moi!” The two of them floated out into the crowd. One of GInny’s teammates, a Beater if Percy remembered correctly (by no means a sure thing), came over and grabbed Charlie by the hand and with no further preliminary pulled him into the throng. After staring at Angelina for a few moments, George muttered, “Bugger,” and held out his hand to her. She took it as if preparing to arm wrestle, and they too joined the mass. Bullroarer cleared his throat and nodded at Luna. “Dance?” “Oh, I shouldn’t think so, no—not unless you really want to. Though I am rather curious to see how your body moves, I don’t particularly enjoy dancing, you see.” If she noticed her companion’s crestfallen expression, she didn’t show it. She smiled broadly up at him. “I would rather find someplace quiet where we could have a lot of sex. Would that be all right, do you think?” Bullroarer gaped at her for a moment and then spluttered, “Yes. It would.” “Oh, how nice!” She stood on tip-toe and kissed Bullroarer fleetingly on the lips. “And I won my bet!” “Bet?” “That was three words.” Leading him by the hand, she gave him what was, for Luna, a quite cagy look. “I shall have to ponder what I can claim as forfeit. Do you think perhaps that I might get you to say more?” Bullroarer’s face split into an altogether sunny grin. “Maybe,” he said, and they were gone. Percy looked at Audrey’s face as she watched them depart. Her expression was a mélange of amusement, pleasure and wistfulness. “Miss Abbott,” he said, “would you do me the honor of joining me in a dance?” “Why, Mister Weasley,” she answered in a high voice, batting her eyes, “I would be honored. That is,” she said, her voice returning to normal, “if you really want to.” “As it happens, I love to dance,” said Percy. “And I should love to dance with you.” “Well, I… I’d love that, too.” Percy took her hand and pulled her to him, and together they began to step-ball-change. After their exertions that afternoon, it shouldn’t have caught Percy by surprise that she danced beautifully, that they were able to share the language of touch, step and rhythm effortlessly and fluently. A rush of exhilaration flooded through him, followed by a twinge of fear and regret. The music changed, and, as they shifted without having to discuss it from a waltz to a foxtrot, he found himself staring down into her sea-green eyes. “Audrey—?” he began, hesitant in speech as he found he wasn’t in movement. “Are you in love with Harry?” She blinked at him. “In… love? With Harry?” “I wouldn’t blame you,” he sighed, and found that he had to look away. “Harry is a rather remarkable man. Not without his faults, of course, but—” “No, Percy.” His eyes snapped back to her. Her expression was deadly serious. “Do I care for him? Sure. Did I wish he didn’t have to leave this summer? Yeah. But I knew that he was taken, Percy. Well, not taken, but that he wasn’t going to be falling in love with anyone any time soon. So, no, Percy. I was never in love with Harry.” “Oh. Good.” Somehow, it didn’t feel all that good. But Percy would take it. “Were you in love with Asteria?” Percy felt a flash of pain and anger, yet he knew that the question was the reasonable response to his own. “I would have told you that I was. And yet, I find myself thinking that I actually didn’t care for her that much. We share interests—” “I’m hoping that having group tours of your bed isn’t one of them.” “Definitely not.” “Well, there you go.” “Yes. There we go.” Here they were: back to the negotiating table. Yet somehow, the stakes here felt much larger, even, than the millions of Galleons that they had been moving around like so many Every-Flavor Beans. There were any number of possible tactics that he might take now, and any number of possible responses on her end, but the difficulty, Percy found, lay in knowing what it was that he himself wanted. And in trusting that Audrey would keep her end of the bargain toward which she seemed to wish to steer. “Audrey—” There was a light tap on Percy’s shoulder. “May I?” Percy turned to find his sister beaming up at him, face bright as a thousand fireworks. Harry—her husband, Harry, Percy’s brother-in-law, Harry—looked down at Ginny and then at Audrey. “Ginny said you promised to save me a dance.” Audrey gaped at him and at Ginny, and then at Percy. “Go ahead,” he said, releasing her hand. “We don’t want you going back on your promises, now, do we?” She flashed him a smile that was more herself. “I suppose not.” A sober-faced Harry took her hand, and they began to dance. Ginny gave a grunt as they drifted away. “Merlin. They look like brother and sister.” Percy started. He’d have never thought of it, but it was true: Harry and Audrey were nearly of a height, both with mops of dark hair and green eyes. “I suppose both families go back in Godric’s Hollow for hundreds of years. They must share common ancestors.” “I suppose,” Ginny sighed. “Mind, those two have done a few things that you and I certainly haven’t.” “I should hope not!” “Come on, Perce,” Ginny said, “dance with your sister on her wedding day.” “It would be my pleasure.” Their mother had given all of the Weasleys dancing lessons. For many years, Percy had partnered Ron, but when Ginny was large enough to join in, Ron would dance with their mother or with Charlie, and Percy would dance with Ginny. Dancing with her felt as natural as breathing, and the memory of all of those hours spent doing the gracklestomp or the tango flooded through him with the thought that it had all been in preparation for this—for each of them to be ready for just such a night. Ginny sighed again. “I’d forgotten how good you were at leading. Harry’s learned a lot—thanks so much, Audrey—but even with his hand on my waist, I’m the one letting him know where we’re going.” “How do you trust him, Ginevra?” The question was out of Percy’s mouth before he had even begun to consider it. “What… Trust Harry?” She leaned back from him as if to inspect for signs of the Imperius or of a Befuddlement Charm. “He disappointed you. Badly. He went away. And then he was sleeping with….” They were smiling at each other now, Audrey and Harry—smiling and talking as they danced. Audrey laughed. Ginny’s gaze followed Percy’s. “Yeah, well, I was with Scott, so it’s not like I can take any kind of moral high ground. Harry and I had broken it off. Of course we saw other people.” Ginny stopped so that Percy nearly tripped over her robes. “Do you know why he didn’t stay with Audrey, Percy? Why I didn’t stay with Scott?” Percy shrugged. “Well…” “It was because Scott wasn’t Harry and Audrey wasn’t me. Harry’s told me she was smart, sexy, funny—which I can totally see. But for some reason he preferred short, freckled and annoying. Lucky me.” Percy felt a tremor of a smile flutter up. “Lucky him.” Lucky me…. “Percy, I know Asteria hurt you—I so wanted to kick her arse when she had the nerve to show up tonight. And I know it’s never gone the way you wanted with Luna and Penny and the rest. But don’t let Hysteria deny you a shot at happiness.” “A shot?” Harry and Audrey were making their way back over to Percy and Ginny. “I see the way the two of you look at each other. The way you fit together. Harry says she’s great, and from what I’ve seen, he’s right. If you like her—” “I do.” “—then don’t let her go.” “But…” Audrey was laughing again, but her eyes were locked on Percy’s. “She has to go back to America.” “Bollocks.” Ginny leaned up and kissed Percy on the cheek. “Harry and I found each other in the middle of the bloody Caribbean. Romantic as hell, that, but out of the way. Don’t let her go.” Percy looked down at Ginny. She had her fierce look on—the one that Percy recognized not only from her match photos, but from years of watching her stand up for herself. “All right,” he conceded. And then he returned her kiss, right on her forehead. “Are you sure she’s his sister?” Audrey asked. “Oh, look at the hair, it’s a dead giveaway. Believe me,” Harry chuckled, “I’m not letting just any bloke kiss my wife.” Ginny launched herself at Harry, a flying mass of white silk. Harry nearly toppled, but he managed to hold himself—and her—upright. “What was that for?” “I’m your wife!” “Uh, yeah.” “And you’re my husband!” “Those tend to go together.” And Ginny pulled Harry back into a dance, laughing and crying as they twirled their way across the floor. “Hi,” Audrey said. “Hi.” Taking her hand, he led her back towards their table. “May I ask what was so funny?” Audrey smirked. It was a thoroughly adorable smirk. “Harry was offering to beat you up.” “Beat me… up?” “He said he’d hex you nine ways to Sunday if you didn’t act, and I quote, ‘like a gentleman.’ I told him you didn’t know how to act any other way, and that, besides, he was a bit late to protect my honor.” “Ah. I see.” “Percy, I’ve never been with a man who took such good care of my honor, I promise.” He meant to answer her in words, but the response that formed itself involved a quite passionate kiss and an embrace. “Whoa,” gasped Audrey when they broke. “If any of your family were looking this way, I think you may have just sullied my honor just the tiniest bit in their eyes. Not that I’m complaining.” “Audrey—” There was too much—too much to say, too much to do. And she was going back to New York. “Can we go somewhere a bit more private?” She nodded but her eyes and mouth were wide. “Uh. Sure. Want to sully my honor some more?” “Actually, yes. Quite a lot.” He kissed her again. “I’ll make our excuses. And there’s someone I need to speak with just for a moment.” “O… kay.” He watched her bite back the obvious question. Showing him trust. “I’ll visit the ladies’. Meet you at the back door in five minutes?” “Perfect.” She grinned. “Can’t wait.” October 23, 2003 - 8.17PM When they made their way giddily back into the Calico Cat, Sally Fawcett was even more deeply buried in her magazine and her skin was an even deeper shade of red than before. It didn’t take long for them to discover why. “Oh, Merlin, Merlin, Luna! You are so perfect, like satin, Merlin, so good, again! Complete me, Luna, you complete… Like that! Oh! You, all I want, all I need, complete… MERLIN!” And the deep, resonant tones gave way to a long, sustained grunt that came out almost as a kind of whirring trumpet call, building and building to a bellow… Standing on the stairs leading up to their room, Audrey bit back laughter and then mouthed Bullroarer. Silence fell. Audrey winked at Percy—this wink Percy understood perfectly—and began to back up the stairs, unbuttoning her robes as she went, when another cry broke the silence: a wispy, high moan that Percy knew very well; when he had last heard it, however, some three years before, it had been calling out his name. Now, however, passion inspired Luna to scream, “ROLF!” At the expression on Percy’s face, Audrey stopped her striptease. She peered at him. “Nostalgic?” Percy shook his head and looked down at the landing below. “I’m… very pleased for her,” he whispered. “What he just told her… It’s all she’s ever wanted. To make someone… complete. Happy.” When Percy turned back up to look at Audrey, she was standing just where she had been. Her clothing, however, had vanished. She was wearing, as they said, nothing but a smile. “Well, Percy, I know for a fact that you can make this someone very, very happy indeed.” October 23, 2003 - 11.24PM They lay tangled on the rug in front of the fire; October had finally begun to exert itself and the night had cooled. Audrey and Percy had found several ways, however, of keeping warm. “Audrey?” “Mmm.” “May I ask… Well, several somethings.” “Oh. Please. Anything. I’m jello in your hands.” Whatever jello was, it wasn’t likely to be anywhere nearly as pleasant as what was, in fact, in his hands. Nonetheless, he took her cue. She moaned deeply and then laughed. “Not complaining, Percy, you really can keep doing that all night, but, I just meant… ugh… meant that you can ask whatever you want.” “I see.” He maintained his activities for some minutes until she reached what seemed to be a good breathing point. “Wow.” “I’m glad that you enjoyed that.” “Huh. Me too.” She kissed him; his mouth was actually beginning to feel raw, but he really, really didn’t mind. She could kiss him bloody for all that he cared. “Question?” she asked, her lips still on his. “Oh.” He backed up; for a moment, he debated finding his glasses, but then decided that he might be happier if he couldn’t see her face when she answered. “Um. Ginny. And Luna. And, I think, perhaps, Harry too. They all… implied that you had taught Harry… something. Something other than how to dance.” “Oh.” Now Percy was sorry that he couldn’t see her: couldn’t see whether that tone meant mortification or amusement or both. “Percy…” “I think I’d rather know, because unfortunately, now that I’ve started thinking about it, it will be terribly difficult to get out of my mind. I assume that it is something of a sexual nature?” Her voice now sounded very small. “Um. I’m assuming so too.” “Yes. And… perhaps this says more about me than about you, but after today, I can’t honestly say that there are very many major categories of sexual activity that we haven’t, er, explored.” She gave a low grunt. “Percy…” She let out a breath. “Don’t get…” “Just tell me.” Again her voice was small—barely audible. “Anal sex. I think. I mean… I think that’s got to be it.” He lay there, letting that concept bounce around in his mind a bit. He knew that such a thing existed of course. Asteria had taken the trouble to inform him that she was not interested, which, of course, had been fine with Percy. He was too much of a… what was the word Audrey had used? “I suggested that to Harry… D’you know why, Percy?” She stroked his cheek. “Because he isn’t a… patch…” She gave a snort. “A patchutchnik. A picky person. Well, that’s what I told Luna, and it’s why we were laughing like crazywomen. But that’s not why I asked Harry to do… that with me. And it isn’t why I hadn’t asked you. Or not all.” He was trying in that moment not to get distracted by imagining doing… that with Audrey. It was very, very hard. “Oh?” “It’s because Harry… There’s this shell around him. Even when we were getting very close, I always felt as if he were holding some part of him in reserve. I mean, everyone needs privacy, but this felt more like he was trying to stifle something.” “His feelings for Ginny, I should imagine.” “Yeah.” She sighed and ran a finger along his cheek. “This is a very weird conversation. Anyway, one night, we went dancing, had a great meal, had great sex… and there was still this thing that he was holding back. So I, uh, offered to let him, you know.” “I see.” “Maybe. Percy—I guess it didn’t occur to me as something you’d enjoy. But mostly? Talking to people, you’re very reserved, very British. But when we were negotiating? Not at all. You don’t hold yourself back at all. At the bargaining table or in bed, either, thank god. It’s like the way that you dance; I don’t have to think about who’s leading and who’s following at all. It’s really, really nice.” A flush of pleasure washed over him, though he wasn’t sure why. “Thank you.” “You are very, very welcome.” She kissed him. “Do you enjoy it?” “Enjoy…?” “The…. erm… The anal sex.” “Oh. Actually…” She pulled him close, placing his hand on her quite remarkable bum. “Yeah. I do. It’s… There are some charms to take care of the more uncomfortable parts—I think that’s the bit that Harry taught your sister—” Percy wanted very much not to be thinking about Harry teaching Ginny those sorts of charms. “—and it’s really… intimate. And nasty. Nasty can be fun.” She bit his lip. “Sound interesting, patchutchnik?” He gave a noncommittal grunt in response and kissed her, then began to sit up. “Percy?” She sounded worried. “Too weird?” “No. Actually it sounds… Well. Nasty. In a… fun way.” He started to search for his glasses. “But I need to use the toilet.” “Ah.” She placed his glasses in his hands. He slid them on and was graced with the miracle of her naked, sweaty form. After he had stood there for a moment, gazing, she poked his shin with her big toe. “You know, if you have to go to the bathroom, standing there ogling me isn’t going to help.” “No,” Percy was forced to admit as he stood. “But it is certainly very pleasant.” As he closed the door behind him—which felt rather silly—she called out, “Flatterer! Not that I mind!” As he stood, using the facilities, he tried to gather his thoughts. He had tried to broach the topic several times over the past few hours, but somehow, his ability to stay on-topic—one of his strengths—had abandoned him. He reviewed his points and her likely counter-arguments. Then as he washed, the mirror over the sink chuckled and said, “Someone looks like he’s having a good time!” Surprised, Percy glanced up and caught sight of himself. Narrow-chested and befreckled as always, he was nevertheless ruddy with exertion. His hair was an absolute mess, but most remarkably, on his face was an enormous Weasley grin. Giving himself a wink, he decided to forget about arguments and counterarguments. “Anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve,” he told his reflection. Then he dried his hands, ran his fingers through his hair and stepped back into the hotel room. He was greeted there by the most heart-stopping vision of his twenty-seven years: Audrey, naked—gloriously, utterly, unreservedly naked—her bum high in the air, her cheek on the rug, gazing back at him over her shoulder down the length of that extraordinary back with such a look… “Anything you want, Percy,” she said, her voice low. “I trust you. Absolutely.” He fell to his knees. Leaning forward, he kissed the base of her spine and tears began to spill onto the insides of his glasses. “I want…” he sobbed, kissing his way up her back, up her neck. “I want everything, everything—so long as it’s with you. Audrey, I want to spend weeks and weeks finding out all of your favorite and least favorite things. I want to find out if you can stand to live with me for more than a month without wanting to dump things on the floor just because it’s too bloody neat—” “I wouldn’t,” she said, and he thought at first that she was laughing, but she wasn’t—she too was crying. “Percy. Don’t. Don’t do this to both of us. I really, really, really like you, Percy, but I can’t move to England, I told you—it would kill my dad.” She pulled his arms tight around her and they spooned there, bottoms up, neither caring at all. “And… I’ve tried long-distance relationships. They can work for a little while, but… Please, Percy. I think if you keep saying those wonderful, lovely things, the minute I’m back in New York, thinking of you here, I’ll just… I couldn’t stand it, Percy. I’m so sorry.” “Well, then,” he whispered into her ear, “it’s a good thing that I’m moving to New York on Monday.” She flipped over beneath him, and the astonished look on her face made him feel even better than the feeling of her flesh moving against his. “You’re WHAT?” “Moving to New York. The Ministry’s mission there has been without a chargé d’affaires since Ermentrude Fitzgibbons retired last year. While you were in the loo, before we left The Burrow, I happened to run into to the Minister—” which was true, if you defined happened to run into as dragged off the dance floor with absolutely no regard for his person “—and happened to suggest my name for the vacant post. He considered it an excellent idea. He suggested that it would give us a ‘chance to extend our excellent working rapport.’” She gawked at him. “You… you did that? For me?” “For me, Audrey. It was entirely a selfish act.” He kissed her; before she could kiss him back, however, he murmured into her lush lips, “You offered me anything I want, Audrey. Well, I want you. More than I have ever wanted or needed anything in my whole patchutchnik life. May I have you?” “Oh, yes,” she said, smiling and weeping, and they gave themselves, each to the other, there on the rug of the Calico Cat.
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