Hufflepuff
Seventh Year
The Houses Competition
WC: 1881
Prompts: Temptation, [speech] if you say that again, I will punch you, [color] coquelicot
AU: Instead of five to a room at Hogwarts, it's divided into dorms with 2-3 people each. Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood were unlucky enough to be roomed together.
Roommates were completely randomized within a house. Each dorm contained two or three students depending on if there were an odd number or an even number of students. There were five Gryffindor boys in the 1987 starting class. Oliver Wood and Percy Weasley were unlucky enough to be roomed with each other.
When Percy entered the dorm after the Welcome Feast, he was pleased to find that his trunk and his bed were as far away from the window as possible. He didn't need morning sun disturbing his sleep. That's what alarm clocks were for.
"Hi," said his roommate, a boy who already looked like he could be a third year. "I'm Oliver. Oliver Wood."
"How do you do?" said Percy cordially sticking out his hand. "Weasley. Percy Weasley."
Oliver scoffed a little but shook Percy's hand the same. Perhaps they might be friends.
Oliver took a Quidditch poster out of his trunk and taped it to the wall.
Perhaps not…
Their first year was fine. A little awkward since the two boys couldn't be more different. Sports maniac versus bookworm. Percy was used to sports mania, however, since his brothers loved Quidditch. He just couldn't get into the sport. It didn't appeal to him in the slightest.
Honestly, it was a little difficult for Percy to make friends so he just ended up sitting with Bill and Charlie for meals. He imagined it would be the same when Fred and George got to school but it would mainly be to make sure they stay out of trouble.
Things got worse starting third year. Oliver was accepted as Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and Percy had decided to follow Bill's footsteps and take every subject Hogwarts had to offer. If he got twelve N.E.W.T.s then it would put him on the right track for Minister for Magic.
This is where his and Oliver's differences really shone through.
Percy did his best when he was up late. Sure, it was important to have good sleeping habits, but if he used his Time-Turner to get extra shut-eye he might throw himself off and he wanted to prove himself as a responsible student, so he could become a prefect and then, eventually, Head Boy.
Oliver was more of the "early bird catches the worm" type. Except the early bird didn't catch the worm, the early bird wanted to go fly around on his broomstick to stop balls from going into hoops. The early bird often got upset when he was disturbed by Percy going to bed. The early bird didn't bother being quiet when he was getting up at the crack of dawn for a sport.
They weren't harsh, but they did make their agitation known through passive-aggressive gestures and comments.
Fifth year got even worse when Percy became a prefect and Oliver became captain of the Quidditch team.
That was also the year that Percy decided that their outdated dorm could use a little sprucing up. Honestly, they never changed dorms so what was even the point of taking things down unless you were graduating. It certainly couldn't hurt to make the place a bit homier.
So, leading up to the start of school, Percy worked on some new curtains with the help of his mother and also saved up to purchase some paint. It would last longer than a color charm and be such a nice surprise for the first years who would receive the room after him.
It was a rather nice color, too. Coquelicot, it was called. Such a lovely shade of red, sure to brighten up any room.
He didn't get a chance to really do the changes until a few weekends after school started. He ended up using his Time-Turner so that he could leave himself reading in the library just to make sure he didn't fall behind. Oliver was out probably playing Quidditch or training Harry Potter. Honestly, that child broke school rules and instead of punishment he was awarded a spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team? Unbelievable!
Percy hummed to himself while he painted the wood-paneled walls. Hm… perhaps it would be nice to invest in a record-player. It would certainly energize him to play some Chopin while getting ready for school in the mornings.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" Oliver's Scottish brogue came from the doorway.
"Painting," said Percy primly.
"I get that!" said Oliver storming into the room, his cheeks going as red as the walls. "But why are you doing it?"
"I couldn't stand how old the room looked," Percy sniffed. Just because he lived his life in hand-me-downs didn't mean he wanted to live that way at school. "So I thought I'd spruce it up."
"Spruce it up?" said Oliver, voice pitching higher. "Spruce it up?!"
"That's right."
"And you chose red?"
Percy's eye twitched.
"It isn't red," he said stiffly. "It's coquelicot."
"You sure?" said Oliver. "It looks red to me."
"It's coquelicot," Percy stressed, not sure why he was getting so worked up over the name of a color. "Say it with me co-que-li-cot."
"You're so pretentious," Oliver scoffed. "It's bleedin' red. And why would you even choose red anyway?"
"It is a perfectly pleasant shade," Percy said defensively.
"You should've gone with blue," said Oliver. "Like Puddlemere United."
"What is that?"
"What –?" Oliver squawked. "They're only the greatest Quidditch team in Scotland!"
"And why should I care about that?"
"Because they're the greatest Quidditch team in Scotland," Oliver stressed.
Percy huffed and went back to painting.
"If you wanted the walls blue then you should have brought your own paint," he snipped.
Oliver growled and kicked the door shut with his foot before going over and opening the window to let out the paint smell.
"Can't believe this…" he muttered. "Bleedin' mad… why red…?"
"It isn't red," Percy snapped. "It's coquelicot!"
"If you say that again, I will punch you," Oliver threatened.
"Coquelicot!" said Percy. "Coquelicot! Coquelicot! Coquelicot!"
In his tantrum, Percy forgot he was holding a brush and splattered paint all over Oliver's Quidditch robes. Oliver swiped his cheek and studied the vibrant paint. Pride strangled the apology rising in Percy's throat.
"This is my only uniform!" Oliver shouted.
"Put it in the wash," said Percy. "It'll be grand."
The Quidditch maniac laughed and turned towards the second, smaller bucket of paint Percy bought for trimming.
"Don't you dare," said Percy. He'd seen that exact same look in Fred and George.
Oliver drew his wand and pointed it at the bucket. "Alohomora! Azure!"
What was once a warm shade of burgundy meant to complement the vibrant coquelicot was now a vibrant shade of capri. Oliver snatched up the spare paint brush and smeared the paint over what Percy had already painted on his side of the room.
Huffing, Percy kept painting his side of the room. If Oliver wanted their place to clash horribly, that was his problem. Why should he care? He didn't care. He would just make sure that his side looked perfect and chic.
"What are you doing?" Percy shouted when Oliver started going over the barrier. He wasn't even painting in nice even strokes, it was just all over the place like he was painting blind. "Stop it!"
Percy flicked his paintbrush again getting more on Oliver's face.
To retaliate, Oliver scooped up a glob of paint on his brush and flung it at Percy.
The redhead stiffened and felt his face get so hot he was certain the paint was drying instantly. At least… the bits that weren't dripping down his nose, lips, and chin. Oliver raised his eyebrows in a silent challenge.
"You are the most insufferable and inconsiderate roommate!" Percy shouted, hurling another glob of paint. "You are the most boorish and pig-headed boy I've ever met! You're sloppy, messy, and your socks could stand up on their own! I don't like the smell of corn, Wood!"
Oliver continued throwing paint as well.
"And you are the most prissy, pretentious prick I've ever met!" he retorted. "If I stuck a lump of coal up your ass I would get a diamond a week later! And I'm inconsiderate? Who's tramping into the room at three-in-the-morning and slamming trunks and drawers? Also? You act like everyone else is stupid except you! Book smarts aren't everything, Percy. Your brother Bill got that, so why can't you?"
Percy didn't realize how long he was at fifty-nine until he reached sixty. This was the final straw. The homework, the classes, the responsibilities, his insecurities and frustrations towards his brothers and roommate had become enough. With a shout, he hurled the bucket of paint. Oliver knocked it out of the air and out the window.
Angry tears pricked at Percy's eyes.
"I don't know why I even bother," he said and dropped to the ground, brush loosely held in hand.
Oliver's hands fell to his sides.
A rapid knock came at the door.
"Wood? Weasley?" Professor McGonagall called. "Is everything alright? I was told there was a ruckus in here."
"It's fine!" Oliver called while Percy stifled his sobs in his knees. "There, uh, there was a big spider in here!"
"Alright… If you insist."
Oliver waited a moment before sitting down next to Percy.
"Alright," he said. "What's eatin' you? I know it isn't just me because my sisters put up with worse than you."
"I'm just stressed, okay?" said Percy.
"You don't have to cry."
"I'm not crying. I'm just allergic to rudeness," Percy hiccupped.
"Don't start that," said Oliver. "Everyone is rude at our age."
Percy couldn't help but laugh. In a lapse of manners, he wiped his nose on his sleeve.
"Come on," said Oliver, nudging him. "Tell me what's wrong."
Unsure why he was doing this, Percy poured his heart out to Oliver. They talked all day.
"Alright," said Oliver. "I see why you're doing this now."
Percy looked up to see Oliver standing and grabbing the half-empty bucket of paint.
"What color was that again?" he asked. "Croquet? Apricot?"
"Coquelicot," Percy corrected.
Oliver waved his wand and the paint turned back to the vibrant red hue.
"I see right through you, Weasley," said Oliver as he continued painting the wall. "You make me feel guilty so that I'll help you with your interior design."
Percy scrubbed his face with his hands.
"Certainly not!" he said with mock indignance. "Mainly because you are painting all wrong. You need to use long strokes."
"Well, they call me Wood for a reason."
Percy gasped and broke into hysterics. The comment just struck him as unbelievably funny. He snorted, chortled, and wheezed. He finally composed himself and finished cleaning his face with a handkerchief.
"That was the ugliest laugh I've ever heard in my life," said Oliver. He looked over his shoulder at Percy in a way that made his heart jump unexpectedly. "How can I hear it again?"
"I- well- I don't laugh often," said Percy using his wand to clean up the paint and turning away to hide the red in his cheeks that threatened to match the wall. "It takes a lot to make me laugh."
"Don't tempt me," said Oliver cracking a grin. "I may just be determined to find out."