Say Something
A few days after this
It had been a few days now since the Small Hall had been all decked out for the ball, and in that time Maisie's ears had returned to normal. Still, the damage from her psyche had not yet healed. This was deep pre-teen drama. Avis had been kind enough to stay by her side during the ball, but once they'd gotten separated and she'd entered that—what did muggles call it? an escape room?—yes, that room, she was on her own. And the one person, the only person she actually trusted there, the only one she even knew, had been useless as hell.
The truth was, she hadn't seen Percival since then. Was he even the same Percy who'd helped her at the Quidditch match or cheered her on in duelling?
Whatever, boys were stupid. Saunders Napier had taught her that.
Maisie pulled her satchel higher on her shoulder as she moved from one class to another that afternoon. It was heavy with new worsted yarn her mum had sent, and she hadn't had time to drop it off at the common room yet. Her eyes flit upward to assess where she was going and exactly which way the stair cases had changed when—
her eyes narrowed—
yes, yes, she was certain. It was him with his light blue eyes that caught the light so well. Breathing in, she readied herself to approach, not unlike she'd approached Saunders after he, too, had done nothing to help during the grindylow attack last year.
Her feet stopped for a second, thinking.
But no, she had to do this. "Percy!" she called out to him as she approached, "I know you have at least ten minutes before Charms." It was possible—very possible, actually—that the first year time table was not that same as it was last year, but she didn't care. Lightly, she motioned for him to join her off to the side as considered a good way to phrase this.
Brow furrowed, there was only one truth: there was no good way to phrase it. So unfortunately for Percy, the question was thus: "What was wrong with you the other day in that stupid drowned palace room? You said aurors help people. You didn't help at all."
What was unsaid: you didn't help me at all.
@Percival Rocier
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Say Something
Banner by: Maisie Gemmell
Percival had just left the library after some studying because Charms class was up next, and he’d been looking forward to it all day. It was one of the few classes he actually felt confident in, and Professor Fresnel always made sure that her whole class enjoyed it.
He was halfway up the staircase when he heard someone call his name.
“Percy!”
He turned quickly and saw Maisie coming his way. A smile immediately formed on his face because he had hoped to see her again soon. They hadn't talked since the ball and, well, that worried him a little. Maybe she’d found the whole thing as strange as he had—
Except her brow was furrowed, and she didn’t look happy.
He slowed down and the smile he had faltered just a little as he shifted the books in his arms. “Hey, Maisie,” he started, though his voice sounded a little uncertain now. “What’s—” Her question hit him before he could finish his thoughts.
He blinked in response and his throat suddenly felt really dry. “I... what?” he managed, clearly caught off guard. He looked at her for a moment, as if hoping he’d misheard, but her expression didn’t change, so his stomach twisted. “Oh. Uhm...” He wanted to say something more useful than that, but nothing came out at first. His mind was completely scrambled, as he pulled up memories of that day.
He then swallowed hard and decided he needed to be honest with her. He liked Maisie far too much for this to get in the way of their friendship. “I didn’t mean to just stand there,” he said finally. “It’s just… I couldn’t focus. It was that Veela girl. I don’t know what happened, but when she was around, my head just...” He gestured erratically with his hands around his head, clearly frustrated with himself. “I couldn’t think straight or figure out any spells to use.”
Percival paused, then sighed before running a hand through his hair, “That’s not an excuse, though. I should’ve helped you. I just—” His shoulders slumped a little. “I didn’t know what to do. None of the spells I know would’ve helped, and I froze.” He looked back up at her, guilt written all over his face. “I’m really sorry, Maisie. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging like that. I feel really bad about it."
"Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"
@Maisie Gemmell
Say Something
He seemed confused. This seemed like a mild improvement from Saunders, who had been quite smug that he'd done absolutely nothing to defend them against the grindylows last year. So, she stopped herself from tapping her shoe or any other fidgeting. She wanted to give him a chance. She wanted to believe she still knew who he was.
But he said he didn't mean to, that it was an accident. And she really wanted to believe him. Still she bit her lip as she listened and let him speak.
Until the guilt was clear as crystal on his face, accompanied only by a single desperate question: "Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"
Pursing her lips, she considered it. It would be nice if someone could do her Potions essay. It might also be nice if she had some new wax for her broom since the old one had congealed from disuse. But none of these seemed really worthwhile; she wasn't trying to hold him hostage or anything. "Just," she started, "Just don't do it again, okay?" And with that, she reached out a hand for him to shake in friendship. Or maybe a hug would be better? She looked down at her palm and across from him.
Maybe she shouldn't have been so harsh.
But as the seconds ticked by—drawing closer and closer to the inevitability of classes—she realized there was a part of this that still bothered her. "I just have a question. I know Esme is a part Veela and she's beautiful," she paused trying to get to exactly what it was, "but like you weren't charmed or anything, right? I read they can do that. And I don't know. I thought you liked people for who they were?"
She felt her cheeks flush at the words. That was phrased horribly: a mesh of intuition and bookish sensibilities that assumed a great deal. So, she tried to correct for it as she adjusted her second-hand leather satchel on her shoulder, "I just mean, she wasn't just beautiful. She was posh. She speaks funny and they all did. They were more worried about themselves than getting out of there, except maybe the ginger one." Her brown eyes glanced down for a second as she rubbed the handmade bracelets she wore on her wrist, before acknowledging the truth of that in a glance. Her childhood had been a happy one, but within means. And it had never bothered her before. But in that room—that trapped, awful room—she'd become cognizant of it for the first time—they way they were all beautiful and fancy and, well, rich—and the one person she'd trusted to have her back in that seemed to care more for them and a way of being she barely understood.
Still, as the staircases changed around them, she hoped she was wrong.
@Percival Rocier
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Say Something
Banner by: Maisie Gemmell
The very moment she seemed to forgive him, Percival's shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh, and all that built-up tension immediately began to fade. It felt like a literal weight sliding off his chest, so he nodded to show just how much that meant to him. “I promise I won't do it again.” In that moment, convinced himself it'd take the Imperius curse to change that.
To seal the deal, he reached for her hand to shake it, but then she kept talking, and he paused to listen. The shift in her tone had taken him by surprise — her words stumbled a little, and he could see the uncertainty growing behind her eyes. Maisie wasn’t usually unsure like this, so he stayed quiet and just listened.
This had to be important.
When she finished, he blinked once and quickly shook his head. “No. I wasn’t… charmed or anything like that, I think,” he said, his cheeks warming at the very idea. “I don't even like her at all. She... feels really mean and... I don't know.” He scratched at the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. “I think it's just because she's Veela, but that's not important."
He sighed, clearly nervous now, but still took a small step closer. “I don’t like people just because they look nice, and I don't care about fancy clothes or expensive haircuts. I like people when they're kind and fun to be around.” His eyes met hers, a blush on his cheeks, and a smile tugging on his lips, “You know... like you." That room altogether had felt very difficult to him, but the one person who made it bearable had been Maisie.
And he had let her down.
He then hesitated only a second before opening his arms a little, choosing not to take her hand because it didn't feel like it was enough. And if she wasn't going to stop him, he'd step closer to wrap her into a gentle hug before quickly and awkwardly shuffling back on his feet again.
"Friends?" he asked with a sheepish smile.
@Maisie Gemmell
Say Something
He wouldn't do it again.
And in that moment, she felt a huge wave of relief washing over her as her expression lifted. It was good to know she had someone she could trust besides Avis and Mylo. Although, he was different from either of them. He was a Slytherin for one thing...but he wasn't like the others in that room.
"Good," she agreed, taking a breath.
The other students continued to move as they drew closer to classes. She knew she shouldn't keep him longer, but still wanted to know where they really were in all this mess. He wasn't charmed. That good in the sense that Esme wasn't some uber powerful being, but perhaps less good because it meant he'd frozen on his own. "She was mean," she agreed, recalling the harsh words that scattered across that room like spiders crawling up the walls and not just from the Veela.
Yet, as he stepped closer, he seemed nervous—perhaps as nervous as she had been even bringing this up. Swallowing, she just listened. The sentences seemed long and slow as he too rejected the fancy Slytherins. That is, until: “You know... like you." And in that second, her eyes widened and she felt herself step up onto the balls of her feet as as found herself returning Percy's hug with ease. Shutting her eyes for a moment, it felt comfortable and safe—everything she hadn't felt in that room—and she was glad of it.
"Friends," she reaffirmed as she let go and pulled her satchel back up on her shoulder. Looking back up at his face with a light flush, she smiled, happy to have been reassured he was still the boy she'd met on the stairs.
Speaking of which: "You should get to class. Might just learn that Levitation Charm. Meet me later, maybe?"
And hopefully, under better circumstances.
@Percival Rocier
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