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I Like Your Glasses

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Percy sat down at a table at the Burrow, tired from an other long day at work. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, letting out a small sigh. He looked down at the horn rimmed glasses in his hands - the glasses he had been wearing for most of his life. He played them in his hands, feeling listless and bored. Hermione sat down next to him, and put her hand on his shoulder.

"I think I should get new glasses," Percy said, not looking at Hermione. "I've had these for so long, I feel like I've got to get new ones. Or maybe I should get contacts-"

Hermione stopped him. "Percy, I happen to like your glasses. They're a part of you."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Why thank you for not being able to remove me from my glasses."

"No, that's not what I meant! Percy, I don't mean to say that the glasses define you, but that they...compliment the package."

"Compliment it, eh? Well, what are the parts that need complimenting?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, nothing, really. You're intelligent, responsible, brave, kind, passionate..." she trailed off, looking even redder than before.

"Go on," Percy urged her gently, curious as to what Hermione really though of him.

"Oh, I shouldn't," she said, shaking her head. "I just meant to say that you're fine the way you are, with your glasses or not. Oh I don't know, I just like you with glasses better, is all - but if you didn't wear them it would be just as nice. I'm rambling aren't I?"

Percy laughed at his friends little speech, and gave her a hug. "Thanks Hermione, I really needed that," and gave her a small peck on the cheek.

Hermione reddened. "I still like your glasses," she mumbled, surprised at what had happened.

"After all, they are complimentary, aren't they?," Percy said with a grin.