[Sure wish I was there with Percy when this scene happened ; )]
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*****
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Ch. VIII: The internal battle
Percy was happy, for the first time in a long time. He was unattached, and he now had a close friend that was a girl, and that was a first for him. Though he regretted the terms on which he had parted with Penelope, he felt better that they had shared a bit of a friendly moment down in the prefect's bathroom.
He remembered a quote he had read in one of the books from the restricted section. It was by the Marquis de Sade. "In order to know virtue, we must acquaint ourselves with vice." So far, he had been acquainted with vice of Marcus Flint's jealousy, and had experienced virtue first hand when he had rescued Xanne, but something was missing.
Staring into the mirror, he noticed something different about himself. Though he wasn't able to put his finger on exactly what it was, he assumed it was due to the fact that he was sort of a hero now. A tiny glimpse into the life of Harry Potter, or so he thought he had received. Percy picked up his comb off of the sink in the prefect's bathroom, looking over to the corner where so much had gone on the night before. He then ran it through his wet hair after crisply parting it and looked at himself once more, this time turning to see the full length mirror.
He stood there; his straight red hair was falling down over his ears, looking darker than ever now that it was wet. He grinned, liking the way he looked when he smiled. His nose didn't look as long. He had nice teeth, straight and white from all of the brushing and flossing he did every morning. His dark eyebrows made his pale blue eyes seem even more piercing.
His chest was pale and freckly, though he didn't mind it much. He wasn't thin, he actually had abdominal muscles, and that was an accomplishment. Still, he wasn't a big guy. It was even more prevalent now that he was clad only in a scarlet Gryffindor towel that was swathed about his waist. It hung there trimmed in gold, reaching down past his knees. His mother had made it for him. Out of the bottom poked his calves, muscular, but not overdoing it. His feet were a bit large, but he was tall, they were large for a reason.
Percy took off the scarlet towel and surveyed every aspect of him in the mirror. He saw nothing wrong with himself. If nothing was out of the ordinary, why did he feel so odd lately? He had nothing to be ashamed of. Actually, he smirked while looking himself up and down again; he had a bit to brag about.
*****
Penelope left the library at an early hour.well; it was early for her to leave the library. The corridors were dark and deserted. The portraits had left their frames and were gibbering loudly in the frames of the others. She was about to tell them to keep it down when she stumbled upon a rather interesting conversation.
"So it's to be a bit before Christmas, is it not?" asked a voice with a deep voice within a large frame.
"Yes, and it's to be only the oldest students as well," said a woman with a high pitched, rather squeaky voice.
"But they may invite a younger student if they wish," said another woman, who sounded oddly like Professor McGonagall.
"What say you, Salazar?" the deep man's voice was heard again.
"I shall not be bothered with such petty chatter," said a shrewd and cold voice. Penelope walked to the frame and gazed in. Three of the voices were talking excitedly, their backs to her. All you saw of the fourth was his back that peeked slightly into the frame. They were the four founders of Hogwarts. They seemed to be talking about a party of some sort.
"Excuse me," Penelope interrupted. The inhabitants jumped and turned to face her. Godric Gryffindor stood taller than the others did with his hands on his hips. Helga Hufflepuff narrowed her eyes and folded her arms over her ample bosom. Rowena Ravelclaw gave Penelope a look of admiration. Slytherin did not enter the frame. "Excuse me, but I was wondering what you were discussing. Is it some sort of party you speak of?"
"I should hardly think we would tell you, girl," Hufflepuff snorted. "It's to be a surprise for the seventh years.
"But, I am a seventh year," she said hopefully, eyes brightening. Hufflepuff's face did not change, and Penelope began to get cross. "I'll have you know that I'm the Head girl and I will know eventually."
"In that case.no."
"Helga!" Ravenclaw interjected. "She's the head girl, there's no harm in telling her. And she is in my house, you know."
"Be that as it may," said Gryffindor in his guttural drone. "I don't think she is meant to know. But.given the circumstances, I guess there's no use in denying it from her. There is to be a party, girl. A Christmas party, but only seventh years are invited."
"When is it?" Penelope smirked, obviously excited, and who wouldn't be, Hogwarts parties were always the best.
"It's to be the Saturday before Christmas," Hufflepuff said, warming up a little.
"Thank you, but I really must be going," Penelope turned excitedly and walked quickly back towards the Ravenclaw common room.
"You're welcome dear," Ravenclaw called after her. "Do make me proud! Honestly, a Ravenclaw Head girl, I always thought they made excellent role models."
*****
Oliver was a bit self-conscious as he tried on the new dress robes his mother had sent him. They were awfully small and he had always favored clothes that hung off of him a bit. They were a deep burgundy material and were cuffed over at the sleeves and rose around his neck. They shone deeply in the candlelight of his room, very handsome robes, even he had to admit.
If he had wanted clothing to show his figure like they did, he would have asked. They were very formfitting. The material stretched over his broad chest but was a bit looser around the back. It was tighter around the waist and fit about as closely as a belt before it flowed out around his legs and became loose the way he liked it.
She hadn't told him what the robes were for though. He couldn't help but wonder if his mother knew something that he didn't.
Once he had abandoned the robes a pair of comfortable pajama pants, he lay down on his bed with his hands behind his head. His pajama pants fit loosely around his legs, just the way he liked it. He smiled as he bent one knee and brought the other ankle atop it, gazing at the quaffles that soared around his legs. If only things were as simple as they had been when he had first gotten these pajamas.
Now, he was questioning everything that went on around him. He was no longer caring about anything except quidditch. Anything, that is, except his friend's relationship with the Slytherin prefect. The girl was nothing special, just a girl. And yet he felt so jealous when Percy was around her. Maybe he had been ignoring all of those things his mother had told him about.homophones or hormones or homonyms, he remembered his mother saying something about them making people feel different. He was most certainly feeling different right about then.
Oliver considered waiting for Percy to come back to the dorms and asking him about it, Percy knew just about everything. He thought better of it and pulled out his Charms text along with a quill, some ink and parchment and began his essay that was due the next morning.
*****
Marcus stumbled back into the common room, rubbing his sore muscles. His hands now smelled of strong cleaning polish and his black robes were ruined, they were now stained beyond help.
He abandoned them; throwing them into the fireplace and watching as the blaze caught on the material and made a loud whooshing sound. The fumes were potent, though most of them got sucked up the flue.
He turned and made his way to the girl's dorm hallway to go visit Xanne before realizing that he would never do that again. Instead, he sat down roughly on the leather couch that sat in the middle of the common room and thought long and hard about the events of the past week.
He was now single again; he could have any girl that he pleased. There was no girl in the castle that was out of his reach, except one. He had a feeling that it was that one that he desired most of all.
*****
*****
*****
[Once again.Dun dun dun.]
*****
*****
*****
Ch. VIII: The internal battle
Percy was happy, for the first time in a long time. He was unattached, and he now had a close friend that was a girl, and that was a first for him. Though he regretted the terms on which he had parted with Penelope, he felt better that they had shared a bit of a friendly moment down in the prefect's bathroom.
He remembered a quote he had read in one of the books from the restricted section. It was by the Marquis de Sade. "In order to know virtue, we must acquaint ourselves with vice." So far, he had been acquainted with vice of Marcus Flint's jealousy, and had experienced virtue first hand when he had rescued Xanne, but something was missing.
Staring into the mirror, he noticed something different about himself. Though he wasn't able to put his finger on exactly what it was, he assumed it was due to the fact that he was sort of a hero now. A tiny glimpse into the life of Harry Potter, or so he thought he had received. Percy picked up his comb off of the sink in the prefect's bathroom, looking over to the corner where so much had gone on the night before. He then ran it through his wet hair after crisply parting it and looked at himself once more, this time turning to see the full length mirror.
He stood there; his straight red hair was falling down over his ears, looking darker than ever now that it was wet. He grinned, liking the way he looked when he smiled. His nose didn't look as long. He had nice teeth, straight and white from all of the brushing and flossing he did every morning. His dark eyebrows made his pale blue eyes seem even more piercing.
His chest was pale and freckly, though he didn't mind it much. He wasn't thin, he actually had abdominal muscles, and that was an accomplishment. Still, he wasn't a big guy. It was even more prevalent now that he was clad only in a scarlet Gryffindor towel that was swathed about his waist. It hung there trimmed in gold, reaching down past his knees. His mother had made it for him. Out of the bottom poked his calves, muscular, but not overdoing it. His feet were a bit large, but he was tall, they were large for a reason.
Percy took off the scarlet towel and surveyed every aspect of him in the mirror. He saw nothing wrong with himself. If nothing was out of the ordinary, why did he feel so odd lately? He had nothing to be ashamed of. Actually, he smirked while looking himself up and down again; he had a bit to brag about.
*****
Penelope left the library at an early hour.well; it was early for her to leave the library. The corridors were dark and deserted. The portraits had left their frames and were gibbering loudly in the frames of the others. She was about to tell them to keep it down when she stumbled upon a rather interesting conversation.
"So it's to be a bit before Christmas, is it not?" asked a voice with a deep voice within a large frame.
"Yes, and it's to be only the oldest students as well," said a woman with a high pitched, rather squeaky voice.
"But they may invite a younger student if they wish," said another woman, who sounded oddly like Professor McGonagall.
"What say you, Salazar?" the deep man's voice was heard again.
"I shall not be bothered with such petty chatter," said a shrewd and cold voice. Penelope walked to the frame and gazed in. Three of the voices were talking excitedly, their backs to her. All you saw of the fourth was his back that peeked slightly into the frame. They were the four founders of Hogwarts. They seemed to be talking about a party of some sort.
"Excuse me," Penelope interrupted. The inhabitants jumped and turned to face her. Godric Gryffindor stood taller than the others did with his hands on his hips. Helga Hufflepuff narrowed her eyes and folded her arms over her ample bosom. Rowena Ravelclaw gave Penelope a look of admiration. Slytherin did not enter the frame. "Excuse me, but I was wondering what you were discussing. Is it some sort of party you speak of?"
"I should hardly think we would tell you, girl," Hufflepuff snorted. "It's to be a surprise for the seventh years.
"But, I am a seventh year," she said hopefully, eyes brightening. Hufflepuff's face did not change, and Penelope began to get cross. "I'll have you know that I'm the Head girl and I will know eventually."
"In that case.no."
"Helga!" Ravenclaw interjected. "She's the head girl, there's no harm in telling her. And she is in my house, you know."
"Be that as it may," said Gryffindor in his guttural drone. "I don't think she is meant to know. But.given the circumstances, I guess there's no use in denying it from her. There is to be a party, girl. A Christmas party, but only seventh years are invited."
"When is it?" Penelope smirked, obviously excited, and who wouldn't be, Hogwarts parties were always the best.
"It's to be the Saturday before Christmas," Hufflepuff said, warming up a little.
"Thank you, but I really must be going," Penelope turned excitedly and walked quickly back towards the Ravenclaw common room.
"You're welcome dear," Ravenclaw called after her. "Do make me proud! Honestly, a Ravenclaw Head girl, I always thought they made excellent role models."
*****
Oliver was a bit self-conscious as he tried on the new dress robes his mother had sent him. They were awfully small and he had always favored clothes that hung off of him a bit. They were a deep burgundy material and were cuffed over at the sleeves and rose around his neck. They shone deeply in the candlelight of his room, very handsome robes, even he had to admit.
If he had wanted clothing to show his figure like they did, he would have asked. They were very formfitting. The material stretched over his broad chest but was a bit looser around the back. It was tighter around the waist and fit about as closely as a belt before it flowed out around his legs and became loose the way he liked it.
She hadn't told him what the robes were for though. He couldn't help but wonder if his mother knew something that he didn't.
Once he had abandoned the robes a pair of comfortable pajama pants, he lay down on his bed with his hands behind his head. His pajama pants fit loosely around his legs, just the way he liked it. He smiled as he bent one knee and brought the other ankle atop it, gazing at the quaffles that soared around his legs. If only things were as simple as they had been when he had first gotten these pajamas.
Now, he was questioning everything that went on around him. He was no longer caring about anything except quidditch. Anything, that is, except his friend's relationship with the Slytherin prefect. The girl was nothing special, just a girl. And yet he felt so jealous when Percy was around her. Maybe he had been ignoring all of those things his mother had told him about.homophones or hormones or homonyms, he remembered his mother saying something about them making people feel different. He was most certainly feeling different right about then.
Oliver considered waiting for Percy to come back to the dorms and asking him about it, Percy knew just about everything. He thought better of it and pulled out his Charms text along with a quill, some ink and parchment and began his essay that was due the next morning.
*****
Marcus stumbled back into the common room, rubbing his sore muscles. His hands now smelled of strong cleaning polish and his black robes were ruined, they were now stained beyond help.
He abandoned them; throwing them into the fireplace and watching as the blaze caught on the material and made a loud whooshing sound. The fumes were potent, though most of them got sucked up the flue.
He turned and made his way to the girl's dorm hallway to go visit Xanne before realizing that he would never do that again. Instead, he sat down roughly on the leather couch that sat in the middle of the common room and thought long and hard about the events of the past week.
He was now single again; he could have any girl that he pleased. There was no girl in the castle that was out of his reach, except one. He had a feeling that it was that one that he desired most of all.
*****
*****
*****
[Once again.Dun dun dun.]
