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06 June 2015 @ 10:52 pm
30 Day Writing Meme: Milk  
Title: Got Milk?
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Percy/Oliver
Word Count: 3,657
A/N: This was the original fill I started to write before I got rudely interrupted by losing my rythem and ending up in hospital. I finished it in January this year, and I'm posting it now to satisfy my current Percy/Oliver splurge. (I've been quite sick with a migraine all day, this is my reward to myself)
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. I'm just borrowing them.

Writing Prompt Meme: Use 30 words generated by this generator http://watchout4snakes.com/creativitytools/RandomWord/RandomWordPlus.aspx and fill in the table with the prompts. Write at least a drabble of 100 words each day. You are allowed 7 emergency words. Feel free to ask people to give you a pairing/fandom for each of the prompt

Milk: Mil-k-
an opaque white or bluish-white liquid secreted by the mammary glands of female mammals, serving for the nourishment of their young.

Fred and George Weasley weren’t just your average class clowns. First of all, they were a set of twins, twice the fun and twice the mischief than your average class clown. Second of all, they were more of a set of House Clowns rather than just limited to the classrooms. In fact, some students at Hogwarts would go as far as saying that wherever a class needs disrupting, The Weasley Twins would be there. Whenever a corridor was suspiciously empty, one of the twins’ own invention were never too far away.

And the parties? Well, they never needed much of a reason to start a party, whether it be in the dining hall at Christmas on the odd chance they stayed at school, or an empty class room that needed a bit of livening up, or in their own common room, celebrating a good quidditch match, a bad Slytherin match, getting good marks on their essays, getting any marks on an essay, or what they ultimately did best: Throwing a party to cheer someone up.

Oh yes. Many wouldn’t think of The Twins as the sensitive sort. What, with them fuelling rumours that Harry Potter was the Heir of Slytherin, enchanting snow balls to follow out unsuspecting teachers and hitting them in the back of the head, and their proudest moment yet, enchanting Percy’s prefect badge to change to any word beginning with P when he least expected it.

They’d lost Gryffindor twenty points and a further fifty for that prank. The initial forty from Percy himself, who wasn’t at all pleased to find he’d been walking around with a badge saying “Prissy” all afternoon, and the fifty from Snape when he’d spotted the badge saying “Pleasurable”.

The only silver lining the twins could offer him was that “At least it wasn’t the other way around!”

But The Twins were indeed sensitive. After all, they wouldn’t have made such a name for themselves if they weren’t in tune with other people’s needs and emotions, would they?

So this latest invention of theirs, it wasn’t really a prank or a trick. It was a bridge to help a certain brother get over himself, and a certain Quidditch Captain achieve one goal that couldn’t be won with a team effort.

Specifically, it was disguised as a jug of milk. It’s test title was “VeriCalisuem”

“We’re gonna need to work on that one.” Said Fred.

“Let’s just see if it works first.” Replied George.

Oliver and Percy were the only seventh years sorted into Gryffindor. They didn’t always sit next to each other, but when they did, it was always something to marvel at.

And Fred and George made sure that this particular night, they were sat next to each other, or opposite each other to be exact. Fred took the row on the right, George took the row on the left.

“Budge up, Ron. All of Gryffindor have got to eat, you know?”

“All right there, Harry,” George said, none-too-gently bumping into Harry's side as he sat down, “Do us a favour and scooch up, will you? Never mind Angelina, she’s taken less gentle shoves at practice.”

“No, that’s no good, Ron.” Moaned Fred, “I need more space here for my elbow.” He waved with his elbow to emphasis his point, “Sorry Hermione, do you mind sitting a bit further down?”

“Lee, mate!” George shouted over, “Will you take the place next to young Neville over there?”

“No, still no good Ronnie. I’m on the end of the bench here!” He'd had to spread himself as wide as possible to make it somewhat true, and that fact hadn't escaped Ron's notice.

“How can you be on the end of the bench, Hermione just-“

“OI! You first years at the end there!” Interrupted George, “Will you all fill in the odd spaces, we need some room up here! No wait, spread out again! Everyone needs elbow space! Can everyone check they have adequate elbow space!?”

Fred leant very awkwardly over Hermione and Ron to shout at a meek looking first year a bit further down the table, “Hey, short blonde guy with glasses? Yeah, you! Could-” The young boy stood up warily, “No, no, keep sitting down!-“

George leant over the table and tapped Fred on the arm urgently. “Percy’s coming.” He whispered.

“Never mind, mate! Enjoy your tea!”

Acting as normal as possible, which was difficult when the rest of the students were shooting them odd looks and seeing for themselves if they all had adequate elbow room, something not many students had even thought they'd needed until then, George made a fuss of piling food onto his plate. It gave Fred the chance to slip the potion into the jug of milk that was placed at the end of the table.

George finished putting food onto his plate and swapped the bowl full of mashed potatoes for the jug in front of Fred, pretended that it wasn’t the jug he wanted, put it down in front of the space at the end of the table to his left and then picked up the jug of pumpkin juice. Once he filled his glass to the top, he placed it to the side of Ron, where Fred picked it up from and filled his own glass in the same way. Fred then placed it back down beside Ron, in the hopes that Ron would be his usual self and would gulp down at least two glasses worth of pumpkin juice, which just so happened to be the amount Fred estimated remained in the jug. He also hoped that the jugs took their usual time to refill themselves. It would do the plan no good if a helpful house elf saw how empty the jug was right at the beginning of the meal and filled it up for them!

“Oh! Percy, old chap!” George exclaimed, “Didn’t see you there. How are you?”

Percy narrowed his eyes at him, suspicious of the pair of them as always. “I’m fine, George, why do you ask?”

George shrugged, “Can’t a guy ask his brother how he is without there being a reason. Anyone would think I’d done something to deserve it.”

“For all I know, George, you have done something to deserve it.”

George turned to his twin “Fred, I do believe I am appalled and offended. Will you tell Percy that I have been on my best behaviour all day. Oh look, there’s Oliver.”

Fred turned to Percy, and despite George being sat right next to him, relayed the message. “Percy, George says to tell you that he has been on his best behaviour all day, oh look, there’s Oliver.”

Oliver, catching his name at the end of the sentence, raised his eyebrows as he sat down next to Fred.

Percy pursed his lips, “Yes, thank you, Fred. I can hear and see for myself. Evening Oliver.”

Oliver smiled at him and started reaching for the plates of food in front of him. “Hey Percy. Do you know why everyone’s sitting so oddly? I swear I’ve never seen the table look so compacted before, this was the only space left! Not that there’s anything wrong with sitting here, of course. Team mates and room mate all in one place for once, it’s great! ”

Fred and George nonchalantly concentrated on their plates full of food, whilst keeping a spare eye on the jug full of milk in front of their team mate and brother.

“I have no idea, I’m afraid. It was like this when I walked in.” Percy glanced down the table for the jugs of juice. “George, will you pass me that jug of Pumpkin juice, there?”

George ignored him. “Hey Fred, did you just hear something then?”

Before Fred could reply either way, Percy cut him off tersely. “Never mind. Ron, when you’re done with that jug, could you pass it over, please?”

Ron peered into the jug he'd just poured his drink out of, “Sorry Percy, it’s empty.”

Percy gestured to the teapot between Ron and Lee, “The teapot then, please Ron.”

Ron grumbled as he passed the hot teapot over to Harry, who passed it as far as he could nearer to Percy. Fred, to everyone’s surprise, picked up the teapot and placed it in front of Percy.

Percy looked at it wearily, making Fred sigh.

“Bloody hell, Percy. I pass things to you at home all the time, there’s no need to look at it like that.”

“Yes, well, we're not at home, are we? I think I'll just go for the milk. Oliver, would you mind?”

Fred and George avoided looking at each other, lest Percy cotton on to the double bluff. They both remained on their own plates of food whist Oliver did the honours and, after pouring out some for himself, passed Percy the jug of Milk.

Fred was just, only just, slightly better at covert operations than George. He turned to Ron and Harry to talk quidditch with them. Very lucky for him, earlier that day Ravenclaw had been training and word was spreading around the school that one of their chasers had managed a manoeuvre only professionals had yet to master. It gave him enough to talk about and seemingly appear like he was ignoring Percy.

George, on the other hand, kept throwing glances between Oliver and Percy, just to monitor their eating and drinking. Both him and Fred had estimated how long it would take to work and how big the dose they'd each receive. It was hard looking away when either something amazing could happen at any minute, or something could just as easily throw the plan out of the window.

Percy noticed. “If you have something to say, George, hurry up and say it. You're putting me off my food.”

“I was just wondering how long you've fancied Oliver for?”

“About three years this February.”

Everything just seemed to stop. George had asked without really thinking, and if he hadn't have known better, he'd worry that he got dosed with the VeriCalisuem too. But he hadn't, he'd just lost his brain to mouth filter in the anticipation. And now he was looking at Fred in amazement that it had worked!

Fred had stopped because, not only had it worked, but George had asked earlier than they'd planned, and Percy had answered. Without realising what he was about to say, unable to stop it.

And Percy had stopped because he'd realised what he'd said and wanted the ground to swallow him up. His face was as red as his hair.

Oliver had stopped because he couldn't believe what George had just asked, and how Percy had replied. He'd ask to make sure, but the stares from everyone on their end of the table was enough confirmation. His hand, with the fork, and the food on the fork, all hovered in mid air as he sat looking wide-eyed at Percy.

Harry, Ron, Lee, Hermione and Neville had stopped because they'd heard George's question clearly, and they couldn't believe the reply either.

“Oh Merlin.” Percy stuttered out, his cheeks getting even redder. He wasn't looking anyone in the face. “I'm so sorry, I don't know why I just- I'm just going to-”

Before Percy could just anything or go anywhere, Fred took his opportunity to ask a question to Oliver. “Olly, old pal, how long have you fancied our dear brother Percy for?”

“Since I stayed over at yours a few summers ago. I deliberately left a sock there so I'd be invited back one day.” Was Oliver's instantaneous answer.

His face paused in shock, as though he was internally assessing the words he'd just said out loud. And then he looked at Percy, their faces were almost identical. Or they would be if Percy could make eye contact. And then Oliver turned and looked between the twins murderously. “What did you two do!?”

The twins grinned mischievously at him. Fred picked up the milk jug and held it up. “Got Milk?”

“Yes I have and I find it tastes a bit sweeter than usual.” Oliver replied, and then his face really did go red. But this was with anger, and not embarrassment like Percy.

Interesting, thought George, it even works with rhetorical questions.

There was no time for feedback analysis, though. Before anyone could say anything else, Percy pulled away from the table and stormed out of the great hall. Oliver stood up after him. “You two have gone too far this time!” He shouted, and then followed in Percy's footsteps.

Fred and George looked at each other.

“Do you think we've gone too far?” Asked Fred, genuine worry starting to seep through the jokester facade.

“I think that all depends on what happens next”, replied George, “And if Percy goes to Dumbledore about it. Or worse, Mum.”


Oliver easily caught up to Percy in the corridor, but Percy had kept on walking quickly towards the Gryffindor common room. Oliver walked quietly by his side. It did no good to talk about it out in the open, not with Percy already so embarrassed and worked up.

“Lorem Ipsum” Percy told the lady in the painting. She rose her eyebrows at their early return, but let them in without a word.

Percy carried on to their dormitory, and so Oliver followed after.

Once they were both in, Percy closed the door after them and sat down on his bed, back turned to the door and facing the window. “I suppose I should apologise for the actions of my brother's but quite frankly, I'm fed up of always having to do that.”

Oliver walked over to stand just at the side of the window Percy was looking out of. “You don't have to do that. You've never had to do that. I know what they're like, they've been on my team for, what, four years?”

“Yes, four years.” The potion made Percy reply.

“And I’ve lived in the same house dormitories for five years. I've even seen them outside of school time. Trust me when I say this, I really do know what they're like. You can't always be there to smooth the feathers they ruffle, they should be doing that all on their own.”

Percy snorted and just, just about made eye contact with Oliver. And then a new wave of red came up to his cheeks and he diverted his eyes back to the window. The atmosphere turned very awkward.

Oliver sighed and championed through, because somebody really had to and it wasn't going to be poor Percy any time soon. “Three years February, then?”

“Yes. Fourth year.” Percy grimaced as soon the word came out.

“So... That'd be, what?” Oliver thought through what happened that year, “The year my Mum sent me a photo album for my birthday, or... I got all beefed up and muscly with Quidditch Practice-”

“Oliver!” Was Percy's scandalised reply, “No!”

Oliver grinned, he couldn't help it. And then he thought more about what happened in fourth year. Bingo. “My Mum sent me a kilt!”

“It wasn't the kilt, Oliver! It was just you!” Percy shouted, and finally looked Oliver in the eye. “It was just you.” He sighed again and ran his hands through his short red hair. It stuck up all over the place until he patted it down again.

Percy's answer took Oliver so much by surprise that he didn't even get a chance before Percy pointed an accusing finger at him. “Besides, you're one to talk. You left a smelly old sock at my house so that you could come back?”

It was Oliver's turn to go a bit red in the face. “Yes and I was so sure the plan would work.” Whilst the potion was definitely still in his system making him reply without thinking, the speed of it's affect was slowing down.

“I remember that summer,” Percy said, “You spent most of it playing quidditch with the twins. I thought-” he stiffened and stopped himself from saying any more.

“What did you think?” Oliver asked gently.

“I thought you'd seen how boring I was, how bad I was at quidditch and didn't want to be my friend any longer. It's why I started doing even more work than what I was already doing.”

“And I thought you'd realised how much of a quidditch nut I was when I kept trying to train your brothers up to be better for the team, and had stopped wanting to be my friend.” Oliver sat down on the bed next to Percy. “And I was only training them up because I wanted you to see I was actually good at something and not completely useless.”

They looked at each other again, and Percy ineloquently snorted a laugh. “How bloody hopeless.”

“I always wanted to ask about my sock, by the way, but I never plucked up the courage.”

“I erm, I still have the sock.” Percy admitted quietly, making Oliver grin very wide. “Well, my Mum has the sock. She refuses to throw it out until she finds it mate.”

“She'll be holding onto it for a while longer then. It's mate got sent to a cousin in Ayrshire, along with a bunch of other clothes I'd outgrown. I could always ask if he knows it's whereabouts... or you could just... keep it?”

Percy shook his head. “Not if my mother finds out. “ A pained expression took over his face. “Oh Merlin, my mother.”

A silence took over the room and slowly Percy's face turned ever more deflated. Oliver could only guess what was going on inside of his brain.

Percy thought so hard, sometimes, and he was so clever that it was never a good idea to leave him to his own thoughts for too long.

He risked an arm around the other boy's shoulder. “You've got to give it to the twins. This was very clever and I think the outcome's worked well in our favour, don't you?”

Percy shook his head. “It was risky. What if either of us had reacted badly to the potion? You don't just throw something in some liquid, there's interactions to think of, and what if you'd- well, what if you'd have... I mean, what if what I'd have said had... upset you?”

“Your brothers are pranksters and a lot of their pranks and tricks and jokes have backfired, and I'm not pretending they haven't. But I think, in this case, their hearts were in the right place. Like I said, the outcome worked in our favour... didn't it?” Oliver's voice betrayed his worry. Just because they'd vocalised their mutual liking for one another, it didn't necessarily mean Percy wanted to just throw himself into a relationship with someone he'd had an unstable friendship with.

The red blush once again appeared on Percy's face. “It... did. I think? But, Ol-”

“No. Look, right? I'd be the first one to kick them off the team if they did anything to harm anyone. If you can't trust your beaters to protect people, you can't risk playing the game. They do things for a laugh, yes, and their curiosity is going to get them into even more trouble one day, but they've never been malicious. I think they've genuinely seen something, here” he gestured awkwardly between them with his free hand, “and thought they'd kill two birds with one stone. Because that's what they're like.”

“They like embarrassing me.”

“Well, three birds, then. This is a castle full of owls.” Oliver let the words settle into the room, into Percy's mind, before he continued. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“Yes,” Percy's reply was almost instant, but it was gentle. So the potion must have been wearing off on him now, as well.

“I think, if I've liked your gorgeous gangly red headed, kind hearted self since, what? Third year? And you've liked my Scottish brogue self in a kilt you deny liking since fourth,” The glint in Oliver's eye as he spoke made Percy's face go all red agan, “And the twins have noticed, then, I think, maybe we should give it a go.”

Percy had scrunched his eyes and put his face into one of his hands. “Oliverrrr!”

“Percy, look, I’ll get down on one bloody knee if I have to.”

“Please don't do that.”

“Then will you give me an answer?”

“We'd have to be very... erm... discreet about it.”

Oliver grinned. It wasn't a no. “Okay. Rule number 1, No snogging in the common room.”

Percy looked Oliver straight in the eyes. He was back in serious mode, more comfortable ground for him, clearly.“Only Penny knows, or, well, knew, so- my parents, they don't know. About... me. Yet. Depending on who says what to my Mother.”

Oliver nodded. “Rule number 2, No snogging in front of parents. With you so far.”

“Would you stop saying snogging!?”

Oliver couldn't help it, he grinned again. “Rule number 3, don't say the word snogging.... Oops.”

Percy sighed and looked up to the ceiling. “What am I getting myself into?”

“Me, hopefully.” The words were out before Oliver could stop them, and at Percy's shocked face, Oliver covered his own face and groaned into his own hands. “I know! I can't believe I said that either!”

“Shall we blame the potion?” Asked Percy.

Oliver nodded profusely. “Yes!”

And so they blamed the potion, and from that day on, both of them avoided milk as much as they could, and any other food or drink substances that had been in the vicinity of The Twins.

And Oliver did finally get invited back to the Burrow and was re-united with his Puddlemere United sock.

Fred and George took all the credit, of course. Except when at the dinner table at home, because if Molly found out what they'd done, they'd be in a lot of trouble.

The End

For the alternative story I wrote for this prompt, click here (It's a Sherlock fic)
For the full table of prompts, click here