Just a way to get over my current writers' block, and briefly explore and relationship I haven't written before. Pointless, kind of lame, one-shot.

The song lyrics are from So Quiet You Were by the amazing Go:Audio. I've taken the lyrics out of context, but I think they mostly fit.

Quiet

Silence sits with me again tonight,
All alone yet with you by my side.
Your mind's not here it's with someone else,
I don't know who it is, but I can tell.

So quiet you were.

He's doing it again. In the last few months they've been seeing each other, she's noticed his little moods. Or maybe mood isn't the right word, because he certainly isn't showing any emotion. No, Percy's simply staring ahead, his face blank. But there's something in his eyes, and she knows that he hasn't just zoned out; he's thinking of something. Of someone, Audrey thinks, though she tries to block out the thought. It's stupid to worry about such things; their relationship is far too new for him to be cheating on her.

Isn't it?

Four months, nearly. He's shared his secrets with her, and maybe that makes their relationship serious enough for him to betray it. She shakes her head a little, trying to kill the thoughts. She's been hurt before, but Percy is different. She's almost certain of it.

"Percy." She says it carefully, and waits until he looks at her before speaking again. "Talk to me. Something's wrong, isn't it?"

"You don't want to hear it." Is his reply, quiet and toneless. But the secret is between them, now, forcing them further apart, and she has to know what it is.

Say what you want
I don't care if it hurts me.
Say what you want
I can take it then you'll see
How I am and where we stand.

"No. No, I want to hear it, I need to hear it." She glares at him, then looks closer at his eyes. There's dread there, and pain, and more, and she wonders if he wants to break up with her. "Tell me. Whatever it is, tell me. I can take it, I swear."

Say what you want
I don't care if it hurts me.
Say what you want
I don't care if it breaks me
In your eyes, I see inside.

"I can't. Try to understand, Audrey." He says quietly. "I can't tell you yet."

That hurts, because she's told him everything about her, her life and her past. She's shared her soul with him; and he's holding back.

"Fine." She says it coolly, and stands. "I better go – got to feed the cat." It's a pathetic excuse, she knows, but she has to get out.

"Audrey – wait..." He doesn't stand; doesn't lift a hand towards her or anything. Just looks at her, waiting. Because she doesn't want to leave until she's sure he isn't going to tell her it, but doesn't want him to know she's waiting because he asked her to, she turns to the mirror on the wall, makes a show of pulling out her lipstick and re-applying it. It feels, instantly, like she's playing games, and she despises herself a little for it. But they can't go on like this, not when there's this barrier between them.

"You don't understand." He tells her. "You can't..."

She doesn't know what to say; so pretends she didn't hear, and carefully replaces the lid on her lipstick. That, the nonchalance while he's tearing apart inside, bothers him. Hurts, just a little.

Pretending not to hear what I just said,
Doing your make-up undistracted.
Any excuse why you have to go,
I see right through that, just so you know.

So quiet you were.


"My brother." He blurts it, because he knows that if he doesn't tell her soon, it will be too late, too much time will have passed and she'll never forgive him for not telling her sooner. "I need to tell you – you have to know about my brother."

She turns, slowly, confused. "Your brother? Do you mean – Fred? You already said he..."

"I need to tell you how." He says quietly. "I need to tell you the whole story."

He states the facts. It's easier that way; telling her the facts in the same way he might have written and essay at school. He keeps it impersonal, not mentioning how it affected him – though he explains how he walked away from him family. She sits down at that point, which is a relief because he'd thought she might walk away, disgusted with him. But she sits, while he tells her about the war, about everything. And when he gets to that night, he can see in her eyes that she knows.

But he has to say it anyway.

"About fifty people died that night." He tells her. He could find out the exact number, but he daren't. "Fred...Fred was one of them."

So quiet you were.

"I was there, with him, when it happened. I made some stupid joke – it wasn't even funny." He can't keep it impersonal anymore – not when he's describing his most personal, most painful, moment. "I was so...exhilarated. It seemed almost fun, really. Everything was quiet; there were no more Death Eaters there; we were safe for just a few moments. Fred was talking to me, saying how long it had been since I'd joked." A humourless laugh touches his voice; a heartbreaking sound. "And then...I never saw it coming. The ceiling just fell. It was like the end of the world – the sky falling in. When everything settled, stopped, he...he was dead." He stops there, and waits, because he needs her to speak, to say something, anything.

She's silent.

Say what you want
I don't care if it hurts me.
Say what you want
I can take it then you'll see
How I am and where we stand.

He wonders, as she sits and just looks at him, if he's lost her. If she's sat there thinking how she can't enter his world – a muggle, she had no idea about any war of his – thinking that she can't deal with him. He wonders, painfully, if she's thinking of an excuse to leave.

"Audrey..." He says only that, only her name, but it's obvious he's pleading with her to speak.

Say what you want
I don't care if it hurts me.
Say what you want
I don't care if it breaks me
In your eyes, I see inside.

She doesn't know what to say. All she can think is how horrifying it must have been, for him to see his brother, dead beside him. It was sad enough when she'd known he'd lost a brother – but to be there, to witness, and to survive when he didn't. To have spent the previous few years away, too – she can't imagine the guilt and grief.

"When?" She manages finally, wondering how long he's had to deal with this.

"May the second, ninety-eight." He murmurs. Not so very long, then, Audrey thinks. A couple of short years.

She has more questions, so many that they're tangling together in her mind, but they're more about the actual war than his brother, and she knows now is not the time to ask them. But a war, a magical war, hidden from her. She'd barely accepted Percy's secret world – and now, there's a war to wonder about, too. How could it have been hidden? How could she not have been aware of it? It barely makes sense to her, and when his face is so carefully blank, she knows she can't ask a thing.

Questions you ignite,
The flames are so damn bright.
Nothing makes no sense anymore.
Hide behind your face,
It gives so much away.
You don't make no sense anymore.

"So." He says finally. "Now you know. Maybe I should have told you sooner. Or maybe I should have waited. I..." He trails off, because his own voice sounds to wrong, so intrusive, as though this is a moment where he shouldn't speak, where he should leave her alone, to think, to process, to decide, in silence.

(Say to me. Say to me.)

She isn't speaking. He needs her to, needs to know...

"Audrey...Say something." He whispers. "If you want to leave, it's OK..."

Say what you want
I don't care if it hurts me.
Say what you want
I don't care if it breaks me.
Say what you want
I don't care if it hurts me.
Say what you want
I don't care if it breaks me.

"I'm not leaving." She says quietly. It scares her, just a little, that she doesn't just mean now – she means forever. But she pushes the fear aside, and crosses too him.

She wraps her arms around him, and they sit in silence.