A Cup of Tea, A Touch of Ease
The office was quieter than usual on Monday afternoon. The usual hustle of the Ministry had settled into a comfortable routine, the rhythmic clacking of typewriters and soft murmurs of conversation filling the air. Hermione, sitting across from Percy at his desk, glanced at the stack of paperwork in front of her. They had been working on this project together for a couple of hours, the collaboration between their departments going more smoothly than she had expected. Despite the tension that had lingered between them ever since their brief but undeniably intimate exchange the previous day, she found herself increasingly comfortable in Percy’s presence.
She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. They’d spent most of the afternoon in silence, save for the occasional murmur of focused conversation as they worked through their respective tasks. It had been a productive session, but there was something in the air now, something she couldn’t quite shake. It was like a soft current, running beneath everything they did. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was there. They were still walking the line between colleagues, pretending everything was normal, but the closeness from the weekend still lingered in the back of her mind, making everything feel a little more charged than it had before.
Without a word, Hermione stood up from her seat, walking over to the small tea station in the corner of the office. She had made a point of remembering how Percy liked his tea when they had spent their lunch breaks together during the past few weeks—no sugar, no milk, just plain black tea. He had laughed when she’d first made it for him, teasing her about how “Muggle” she was with her sweet, overly sugared tea. But the memory stuck with her, and she made sure to prepare it just the way he liked it.
She returned a few moments later with the steaming cup, setting it carefully down beside him on the desk. Percy looked up, his brow furrowing slightly in surprise. She didn’t speak as she handed him the cup; instead, she just gave him a quiet, almost teasing look.
He smiled, his eyes softening with appreciation as he took the cup in his hands. “You remembered,” he said, his voice a little warmer than usual. “I’m impressed.”
Hermione shrugged, trying to play it cool, though she could feel a faint blush creeping up her neck. “It’s not a big deal,” she said lightly, settling back into her own seat. “I just pay attention, I guess.”
Percy’s eyes never left her as he took a sip of the tea, savouring it for a moment before placing the cup down on the desk. “Well, it’s not often that people remember the little things,” he said with a small smile, his gaze shifting to the pile of paperwork in front of him. “But it’s good to know that someone notices.”
Hermione felt a strange warmth at his words. It wasn’t just his appreciation for the tea; it was the way he said it, like it was more than just a casual comment. There was something in his tone, a quiet sincerity that made her pause. She had always thought of Percy as the serious, no-nonsense type—the one who would be far too focused on his work to notice the small details about the people around him. But here he was, acknowledging the thoughtfulness behind her gesture.
It felt different somehow, the way he saw her. Different from how anyone else had ever looked at her.
“I’d say I’m surprised,” Percy continued, “but I suppose I shouldn’t be. You’re always so… observant.” His voice dropped a little lower as he said the last word, the compliment almost hidden in the casual tone.
Hermione felt a flutter of something she wasn’t quite sure how to name, and she tried to mask it with a light-hearted response. “It’s called being nosy, Percy. Get used to it.” She grinned, trying to deflect from the unexpected softness she was feeling.
But Percy, to her surprise, gave her a small, amused smile in return. “I’ll have to get used to that, then, won’t I?” he said dryly. “Could be worse. At least you’re not asking about my personal life… yet.”
That made Hermione laugh, the sound light and genuine as it filled the otherwise quiet office. Percy’s humour wasn’t something she had always noticed before. She’d been so focused on his serious demeanour, the way he always seemed to have his nose in his work, that she’d missed the subtle undercurrent of wit that ran beneath the surface. It wasn’t a grand, showy kind of humour. It wasn’t the kind of humour that made a scene or demanded attention. It was quieter, more understated, but it was still there. And it was actually quite charming.
“Is that an invitation for me to start?” she asked, leaning back in her chair with a teasing grin.
Percy raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching upward. “Well, I didn’t mean it to be. But now that you mention it…” He paused, his gaze softening just slightly as he leaned back in his chair, his hands folded neatly in front of him. “I suppose we all have our little secrets, don’t we?”
Hermione smiled, the banter flowing more easily now. “I’m not sure I’m ready for your secrets, Percy,” she teased. “I’m still working on getting to know the tea preferences first.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. “Fair enough,” he said, tapping the side of his cup with one finger. “But if you ever want to know anything else, I’m sure I could be persuaded.” He gave her a playful wink, and there was something in his gaze that made her pulse quicken.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the mood light. “Well, I’m not exactly a Gryffindor for nothing,” she replied, “so I’ll take that as a challenge.”
Percy chuckled again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll hold you to that, Granger.”
They sat in silence for a moment, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind of silence. It was comfortable, filled with an unspoken understanding. It felt… easy.
And for the first time in a long time, Hermione realized that maybe, just maybe, working with Percy wasn’t as bad as she had initially thought.
As she glanced over at him, watching him work, his brow furrowed in concentration, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk as he reviewed some paperwork, she found herself smiling—just a little. The tension that had been between them in the past was still there, but now it didn’t feel so heavy.
Percy was still Percy, of course—the serious, determined workaholic with a streak of dry humour that she was slowly beginning to appreciate—but there was more to him than she had ever given him credit for.
And maybe, just maybe, that was something worth getting to know better.