Chapter One:
And I want a moment to be real,
Wanna touch things I don't feel,
Wanna hold on and feel I belong.
And how can the world want me to change,
They're the ones that stay the same.
They don't know me,
'Cause I'm not here.
Percy walked along the grey corridors. He had never realized exactly how far the gardens were from the Gryffindor common rooms. Come to think of it, they were not close to the Ravenclaw common rooms either. They were close to the Hufflepuff and Slytherin common rooms though, but Percy supposed that that made sense. After all, they would of necessity be located somewhere close to Professor Snape and Professor Sprout.
He didn't hear the click until it was too late.
He had stepped on something.
Like one of George and Fred's newest toys. Of course, no one had caught them with them, but everybody knew who was setting them.
He could stand there, his foot on the trigger until a teacher came along and disarmed it, or he could suck it up and take a step, see what this particular one did.
He really hoped that it wasn't the itching powder version Owen Stokes had discovered yesterday.
There was a sound that Percy recognized. It was the sound of something that had once occupied a very small space, expanding at high pressure. With Fred and George in the house, you learned to recognise these things. It was a useless talent, and actually rather depressing because, you learned what everything sounded like, but they used a new method to achieve the same results almost every week. You learn not to use the shampoo without checking it for dye, and they apply a charm to your hat. . .
It was paint. Blue paint. Or more accurately a paint bomb filled with blue paint.
"That's really a very cheerful colour, Perce." Fred/George came from around the corner.
"I'm going to report you to Ms McGonagall." Percy said in his softest calmest voice.
"Me?" Fred/George asked innocently. "Whatever for?"
"For setting this trap."
"But I didn't set the trap. I was just walking along here minding my own business, when I saw you. How do I know you didn't set the trap?"
"Because I'm covered in blue paint, Geo-Fred!"
"You could have had an accident setting the trap, Percy, and who exactly are you reporting again? Geofred?" The twin laughed, walking away. "You are such a spoilsport."
"Better than a hoodlum!"
They were his favourite robes, and although Percy was absolutely certain that he would eventually get the paint out, it looked like he wouldn't be wearing them for a while.
How come this felt like the greatest loss of the evening? Penny had hurt. But Percy wasn't even sure how to start dealing with that. Should he cry, mourn the loss of something he really never had long enough to appreciate? Mourn the futures they could have had, the could have beens?
On the other hand, he missed his bloody best robe right now.