They always do the dishes together - it's something that's carried on from him growing up in a big family where everyone shared the chores. He washes and she dries, because he doesn't mind dishpan hands and hers need to be smooth and soft for when she handles the books. It doesn't bother him, really - he finds the warm, soapy water soothing, and the process of making dirty things clean again is actually quite therapeutic.
Hermione prefers to make clean things dirty, filling fresh pages the colour of clotted cream with line upon line of neat, tight handwriting. She always uses a quill with black ink that stains her fingertips, and it transfers to her face and hair and clothes if she's careless. She's left handed, too, so she smudges things. He's grown very good at getting ink stains out of her jumpers, and wiping black smudges off her cheeks. Ron once said that he thought the smudges were adorable, but Percy doesn't like looking at messy things. He doesn't mind being flawed himself, but the ink blots are like a mistake on her perfect skin, and he likes his things better when they're perfect. Mistakes should be erased, not crossed out.
He likes it when she takes the time to smooth down her unruly hair and tuck it away in a twist at the nape of her neck. He likes the fact that she never paints her fingernails, but keeps them short and clean to protect the books. There is not a single freckle on her body, and he likes that, too.
He thinks he might like to marry her, eventually. She doesn't wear white very often, because of the ink, but he thinks it would look lovely on her. He hasn't told her this, though. He doesn't like to talk about their relationship very much - when emotions come into things, it's too easy for life to get messy, and he doesn't like messy things.
"I'm leaving you," she says one night, while they're doing the dishes after dinner. "I'm going to live with your brother. Will you pop that butter in the fridge?"
She doesn't say which brother.
She is always so practical. He loves that. "Why?"
She dries off the last dinner plate and puts it in the cupboard with the other flatware. It makes a dry scraping sound as she slides it in on top of a stack of china, like chalk on a blackboard, and she doesn't look at him as she closes the door.
"You can't leave butter out, Percy. It goes rancid."
Hermione prefers to make clean things dirty, filling fresh pages the colour of clotted cream with line upon line of neat, tight handwriting. She always uses a quill with black ink that stains her fingertips, and it transfers to her face and hair and clothes if she's careless. She's left handed, too, so she smudges things. He's grown very good at getting ink stains out of her jumpers, and wiping black smudges off her cheeks. Ron once said that he thought the smudges were adorable, but Percy doesn't like looking at messy things. He doesn't mind being flawed himself, but the ink blots are like a mistake on her perfect skin, and he likes his things better when they're perfect. Mistakes should be erased, not crossed out.
He likes it when she takes the time to smooth down her unruly hair and tuck it away in a twist at the nape of her neck. He likes the fact that she never paints her fingernails, but keeps them short and clean to protect the books. There is not a single freckle on her body, and he likes that, too.
He thinks he might like to marry her, eventually. She doesn't wear white very often, because of the ink, but he thinks it would look lovely on her. He hasn't told her this, though. He doesn't like to talk about their relationship very much - when emotions come into things, it's too easy for life to get messy, and he doesn't like messy things.
"I'm leaving you," she says one night, while they're doing the dishes after dinner. "I'm going to live with your brother. Will you pop that butter in the fridge?"
She doesn't say which brother.
She is always so practical. He loves that. "Why?"
She dries off the last dinner plate and puts it in the cupboard with the other flatware. It makes a dry scraping sound as she slides it in on top of a stack of china, like chalk on a blackboard, and she doesn't look at him as she closes the door.
"You can't leave butter out, Percy. It goes rancid."