Series:22 for 22
Title: Traitors We Two
Author: Jmaria
Rating: FR-15
Disclaimer: J.K. owns Millicent and Percy. I own nothing, save the plot.
Fandom(s): Harry Potter
Character(s): Millicent Bulstrode/Percy Weasley
Spoilers: Book Six.
Summary: Drinking doesnt always take the hurt away, but the company might do nicely for that.
Words: 466
A/N: The title (which bears striking resemblance to the insanity of last year's titles) was inspired by watching one too many PotC vids on you tube. Also, bars seem to be a very common theme in my Millie/Percy fics. Hmm.
Dedication: To fran06, who requested the characters and the quote.

Twenty-Two for Twenty-Two

Traitors We Two
The Leaky Cauldron

And for that very special day
Nobody loved me in that way.

~ Forget Me Not, Lucie Silvas

Percy wasn't quite sure how he had gotten to the pub. He didn't remember leaving the office - no, he didn't leave on his own power, he did remember that little nugget of truth. Was it Wood who had taken the contents of his desk and put them into the box sitting beside Percy on the next stool? He just remembered the bottom of his glass getting empty, and then the girl.

Three years. He should have remembered her after three years. A stupidly drunken fourteen - no, she'd been fifteen at the time, she'd made a point of saying that repeatedly- had snogged him in one of the corridors leading to the dungeon. He'd been too shocked himself to say anything then. Too ashamed to say anything after, when he recognized her sitting with the Slytherin table the morning after Cedric Diggory's death. She hadn't said anything either.

She'd changed a little over the years. While still being a big girl, she'd gotten a bit leaner and definitely looked more worn. She was arguing with Tom, the Cauldron's owner the second she stepped through the door.

"All I want is a couple of drinks, and you're certainly not my keeper," she'd complained when Tom first refused to give her a drink. She snatched up Percy's second full shot glass of Firewhiskey and tossed it back. Percy didn't even really care. The girl only smirked at him and ordered two more shots. Tom had frowned, but both of them were beyond caring what the pub owner thought.

And then Percy remembered the distinct lack of words for the next two hours. He stopped counting the shots in his mind, stopped thinking what his parents/boss/professors/peers would think for the first time in his life. He remembered her eyes and the suggestive smirk there, the acknowledgement of something more. He didn't know how they got to her place, and with hands bruising their way over skin and teeth and lips finding purchase on their lips and necks, it didn't really matter. Two traitors needing the release of their skins, the comfortable nakedness of the truth.

They were both traitors, one for siding with false logic, the other for bucking tradition and leaving her past behind her. And none of it mattered except for the hard mattress beneath them, their limbs entwined as their pulses set the rhythm and pace.

Percy never understood why the former Slytherin girl had kissed him, either the night three years ago or three hours ago in the half-empty pub, but waking up with Millicent Bulstrode beside him - not because he was a Weasley and could be used - made it okay.