I can't write romance or dialogue, can you tell?
Percy/Marcus is my OTP, you guys. I'm so unique.

Penelope sighed as she sat down at her seat in NEWT Charms. Professor Flitwick's seating arrangement had her at a table with a Slytherin who was quite possibly the stupidest man ever, a hair-twirling idiot who had not gotten her way into the class on brains alone, a rude and brain-dead Hufflepuff girl and her ever-perfect boyfriend, Percy. While it was nice to share a seat with him – even if he would only occasionally hold her hand – Penelope wished to be sitting elsewhere.

"The best thing about this class," stated the hair-twirler, Sophronia Cosse, as she took her seat, "is that it is early in the morning."

"And that makes it good why?" snapped Marcus Flint, who did not look at Cosse, even though she was in his House and was rather pretty.

"Get it over with," said the final member of their table, an idiotic Hufflepuff, more known for her extra-curricular activities than her smarts.

"There is nothing to complain about," Percy said primly as he dug through his school bag.

Sophronia snorted and Flint rolled his eyes.

"You'd say that, Percy. Isn't this your favorite class?" Penelope smiled at her boyfriend and propped her head up on her hand.

"Naturally," he said with a quick glance at Penelope. They shared a smile.

After Percy had put his inkwell, parchment and textbook onto the table and folded his hands with a distressed look on his face, the Hufflepuff, Robyn Winsworth, took out a mirror and began staring at her reflection.

"You are not that gorgeous," Sophronia said sweetly, twisting a lock of her dark hair, grinning at Flint. "Isn't that right Marcus?"

Flint glanced at Robyn quickly and shrugged. "Never thought about it before."

Penelope snorted.

"That doesn't do well for you, does it, Winsworth?" Sophronia giggled.

Percy frowned but didn't say anything.

"Never thought about you before either, Sophronia," Flint said listlessly.

Sophronia huffed and crossed her arms. "Like I'd want you to look at me."

Percy rolled his eyes and sighed. "This is ridiculous."

"Stay out of it, Weasley," said Robyn nastily. "If we had a looks contest you'd come in dead last and that's accounting for that no-good Muggleborn."

Flint stirred and Percy glared and went to open his mouth, but Penelope beat them to it. "That 'no-good Muggleborn', Winsworth?" she whispered icily. "I happened to hear a rumor from another no-good Muggleborn that you yourself-"

"Shut it!" screeched Robyn. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare!"

"Don't I dare what, dear?" asked Penelope, a small smile stretching her thin lips.

"Ms Clearwater, Ms Winsworth, come here!" ordered Flitwick from atop his pile of books.

The two women glared at each other as they rose from their seats and stalked to the front of the room.

As soon as they reached Flitwick's desk, Percy once again pulled his bag into his lap and began searching through it.

"What's the matter?" asked Sophronia, eyes on the two girls.

"I think I left my quills in my dormitory," Percy said in a strained voice.

Flint riffled through his bag and pulled out a black quill and tossed it carelessly in Percy's direction. "So you'll shut up," he added unkindly.

"Thank you," murmured Percy, a small smile on his face.

Moments later the two girls returned to their seats and refused to say anything until deep into the lesson when Robyn said, "This makes no sense. None."

"Makes perfect sense," Penelope said serenely, who had already started on the essay that was to come after they'd successfully preformed their charm.

"Maybe to a nerd like you," snapped Robyn, who waved her wand around lamely.

Penelope, who refused to get into any trouble, lifted her left hand onto the table and took hold of Percy's right. "Ask Flint or Cosse for help, Winsworth, they are already on their essays."

"What about Weasley?" Robyn demeaned. "What if I want his help?"

"If you'd like to lose your head," Penelope said vaguely, concentrating once again on her essay.

To her left, Percy sighed deeply and squeezed Penelope's hand. He looked up quickly, scanned the class and dropped his quill. He snaked his left hand under the table and took hold of Flint's.

Marcus ran his thumb in a circle over Percy's hand before dropping it and laying his hand on Percy's knee and squeezing it. "Don't stop on account of me," Marcus whispered.

Percy hesitated but soon again picked up his quill and began to write.

Flint kept his hand on Percy while Percy kept his hand on Penelope - who, for her part, was oblivious.