School: Ilvermorny
Year: 5
Topic: Clarity in Writing
WC: 805
TW: None
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The wood of the kitchen table was sun-warmed beneath his hands and the sunlight filtering through the window had settled on the back of his neck as he curled over his work. It brought with it the promise of new freckles blooming like flowers over the constellation of his skin as summer progressed, and Percy sighed.
That was a mistake.
"What's the matter, Percy, love?" Mum asked, not turning around from the large pot she was minding on the stove. The bubbling water mixed with the soft slap of her slippers as she moved between the stove and the counters just added another layer to the headache brewing just behind his eyes.
"Nothing, Mum." Percy couldn't say if it was the masked irritation in his words, or that she had drawn attention to him, but he saw the twins heads rise out of the corner of his eye, sharks scenting blood in the water.
They had positioned themselves on the opposite side of the table to Mum, using the chipped pale blue jug that functioned as a vase to block her view of them. Their heads were previously pressed together as they scrawled something on a scrap of parchment, but now they were watching him, eyes bright and focused.
Percy chewed his bottom lip, feeling the rough skin break anew and the taste of iron spill over his tongue. He hunched further over his work, shoulders curving like broken wings, one arm braced on the warm wood as his nails scraped over the pitted surface.
Glancing sideways, he caught sight of the two reasons he had been dragged out of the sanctuary of his room and forced onto the already crowded kitchen table instead of his neat desk. He knew he should be happy to see his older brothers again, even if it was only for a few days due to their busy schedules, but the growing headache continued to pulse behind his eyes, absorbing all of his attention.
Bill looked almost out of place amongst the gleam of the copper pans hanging along the wall behind him above the cupboards that never fully shut properly, but he lounged backwards in the chair with a reckless grace that still made Percy burn with envy. Charlie matched their older brother, his legs thrown up onto the scrap of free seat Bill left, dirt clinging to his boots and smearing over the wood with every slight movement he made to keep his balance.
Charlie met Percy's gaze, a half-charred eyebrow raised in a silent question before he tipped his head back to stare at the twins. The movement exposed the thick bandage wrapped around his shoulder, the edges stained green and emitting a tart smell of mint from the burn cream.
"School work?" Charlie asked. He didn't turn to look back at Percy, merely swung his feet down and sat up straight in the instant Mum glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed and an admonishment already brewing on her lips. She shook her head as she returned to cooking, the knife clicking against the chopping board as she worked.
"Yeah," Percy sighed. He nudged his glasses up to press his fingers into the bridge of his nose. The pressure would linger for minutes afterwards, a balm to try and keep the headache at bay.
A shadow passed behind him, a shiver rolling up Percy's spine, and, when he had settled, blinking owlishly, Charlie was sitting next to him, bracketing Percy between himself and Bill.
Beyond him, Percy saw the twins slink away into the sitting room before the chorus of groaning springs announced their collapse onto the battered sofa hidden behind the curved half-wall.
"Come on then," Charlie said, tapping the table with his knuckle, causing Percy's attention to snap back to him. "What's it about?"
"I don't need any help," Percy said, drawing the paper closer to himself.
"You might not need it, but it'll get done a lot quicker with some help. Plus you're getting a headache," Bill said.
Percy titled his head to consider Bill in the rainbow fragments at the edge of his glasses. He was met with a flat stare, a knowing look that said he would cave eventually because he always did. They did know him best.
"Fine. It's an essay from Professor Snape."
"Merlin, he hated me by the end of it," Charlie sighed, squirming on the chair to raise onto his knees, the wood squeaking in protest beneath him.
"You kept asking if his dragon's blood was ethically sourced," Bill laughed.
Charlie glanced at their mum, weighing up his options before flashing Bill a rude hand gesture, crossing his arms the moment he had finished as the other man's shoulders shook with barely stifled laughter.
"Anyways," Bill continued. "What's the old bat set this time?"
"Bill!"
"Sorry, Mum."