A/N: I just saw that this story has over 120 reviews. Thank you, I am truly grateful. I try to respond to them all individually, but if I happen to miss yours, please know that your comments are enormously appreciated.
"Come on, Percy. Just have one drink. It won't hurt, I promise." Charlie cajoled.
They were seated at a table in the corner of the pub George had chosen to celebrate his birthday. George himself seemed to be having too much to drink, with one arm around Angelina Johnson and the other around Lee Jordan. Percy, on the other hand, in his usual conservative manner, had refused to touch a drop of alcohol, and Charlie wanted to change that.
"That's what you say now," Percy countered, "but I bet you I'll be the one awake and able to rise and shine tomorrow morning, whereas you lot will be in bed with a headache or heaving into a toilet bowl. I'm not sure about the rest of you, but I know which morning I'd prefer…"
Charlie shook his head in resignation. "I can't believe you! Haven't you even had one drink, ever?"
"As a matter of fact, I have. With Audrey, on the anniversary of the war. It is not an experience I would like to repeat."
Charlie's expression changed to one of sombre sadness, and he wondered whether he'd made a grave mistake in trying to force Percy to do something he was obviously reluctant to do. Then again, maybe it would be good for him to have a positive memory to hold onto, so that he could think of drink and not immediately think: Fred.
He said as much to Percy, and watched his mind tick over the possibility. "Besides, it's always good to let loose a little. I don't mean get blind drunk, of course, just…let yourself be part of the party.
"It does seem tempting… and I suppose if I only have one, and a small one, it won't be too bad."
"Yeah, that's the spirit," Charlie encouraged. "Here," he said, taking a glass of Firewishey from a nearby tray and offering it to Percy. "Try this."
Percy took the glass, holding it carefully with one hand, looking with an eager uncertainty from it to Charlie and then back again. Charlie said nothing, allowing him to make the decision himself.
In a quick, decisive movement, Percy raised the glass to his lips, tilted it back and drained its contents in a single gulp. "Well, that wasn't bad at all. What's one more?"
"Now you're talking!"
"Only one," Percy repeated, in case Charlie was getting any ideas.
"Sure, Percy," said Charlie in a tone designed to placate him.
Percy woke up the next morning with a pounding head and a churning stomach. He had a few dim memories of the night before, his initial refusal of any drink he was offered and eventual concession, when he'd given in to temptation and take the drink Charlie offered.
He'd only had two drinks, in the end, but apparently he wasn't as good at holding his alcohol as his brothers seemed to be, and two drinks were enough to leave him feeling as though he'd been hit by a bus.
Charlie was going to hear about this! Just as soon as he could bring himself to get out of bed…
Written for:
The Connect the Weasley's Challenge
The Duct Tape Competition (Easy, Red)
