Picking up the Pieces
Percival walked back towards the Slytherin Common room with his head down and his shoes squelching with every step. The corridor felt colder than usual, or maybe that was just because he was drenched from head to toe. Water still dripped from his hair and robes, after all, which left quite a trail behind him as he made his way through the castle. As he walked, his books were pressed tightly against his chest as if to shield them, but even they had gotten soaked.
It was a mess.
He could still hear the older boy's laughter echoing in his mind, even though he had left the bathroom far behind him at this point. He told himself not to think about it or let it get to him... but it was hard not to, considering what happened to him.
Other students passed by as he continued walking towards the Common Room. Some looked toward at him for a few uncomfortable seconds too long, while others stifled laughs behind their hands. Percival lowered his head even further in response and pretended not to notice any of them.
Maybe they wouldn't notice him that way, too.
He swallowed hard and tried to keep walking even though his legs felt so heavy beneath the weight of his dripping robes. He just needed to make it back to the common room and get changed, so he could pretend this never happened.
Nobody needed to know.
@Harlan Montgomery
Picking up the Pieces
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 i hear you're lookin' for a way to fight the corpus bride she's workin' in my mind summary, this thread is happening on A RANDOM DAY, at a RANDOM TIME with @PERCIVAL ROCIER / wc: 412. Potions class was the pits, seriously. Professor Sabuer was such a hard ass and truly for no reason because he was just in their shoes a few years ago and he should know better. Luckily for him, there had been rumors circulating that the Head of Houses were retiring and there was a chance for Professor Asmaralaya had been interested in returning to his position as Potions Professor. A teenager who had to try twice as hard in that class could only dream for an easier way through learning how to concoct and brew these potions. With a satchel full of his books, Harlan left the classroom and was excited to have the rest of the day to focus on practicing for Quidditch. Their first game was coming up soon and Harlan (although being his first game) was one of the older students on the team, yikes! That only mean it would be that much harder to take on any of the teams, but that didn't mean Harlan wouldn't attempt to rise to the challenge. The crowd of fourth years were quick to disperse on their way to their next destination and Harlan was alone heading through the Corridors back to the Gryffindor Common Room until he heard some whispering murmurs from a few of the students in front of them. ' Weird. ' The Gryffindor's face scrunched up in confusion until the sound of squelching shoes could be heard echoing through the hallway and that's when he spotted the young boy who looked entirely soaked with his head tucked while staring at the floor. Harlan didn't know what happened but he could surmise enough and that had his own trauma flaring in empathy. " Yo, keep it moving or else! " He roared with as much gusto that he could muster to get them to disperse before he turned his attention back to the kid. " Hey, are you okay? What happened? " Harlan kneeled down to meet the boy face to face. " You're not hurt are you? " There were a lot of conclusions that Harlan wanted to jump to with a wand at the ready, but he remembered how badly he wanted someone to check on him and make sure he was okay and that's what he'd offer the kid. " I'm Harlan, and you'll be okay. Promise. I'm just here to make sure you're good. " His mind already scrolling through the list of spells that he learned for something that might've helped him in this moment. | —— |
Picking up the Pieces
Percival stopped when he heard the voice behind him. For a second, he thought it was someone else coming to laugh at him again, so his shoulders tensed and his grip on his books tightened. But when he turned around, it wasn’t another group of older students. It was someone kneeling down, looking at him with actual concern.
“I–I’m fine,” he managed to stutter, and his voice cracked halfway through his sentence as well. It wasn’t convincing at all, not even to himself. The cold had made him start to shiver, and now that he wasn’t walking anymore, it was getting even worse. His hair stuck to his forehead, and drops of water trailed down from his robes onto the floor.
He then swallowed hard, “I’m just cold... I’ll be okay.” But his jaw trembled slightly when he spoke, and his voice came out incredibly uncertain. The older boy’s question lingered in the air, and made Percival wonder if he could open up without feeling more embarrassed.
Percival hesitated a moment longer and glanced down at his soaked sleeves. His lips then parted like he wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat before they could leave his mouth. It was humiliating enough that it happened, and saying it out loud just made it even worse.
Still, Harlan’s voice and the way he had crouched down made him feel at ease, which Percival hadn’t expected from anyone tonight after the incident. So, after another small pause, he let out a shaky breath and tried again.
“Someone… he, um…” He trailed off and looked straight at the floor, unable to make eye contact with the older student. “They grabbed me in the bathroom.” He swallowed again, his face going red from the effort to not cry. “He thought it’d be funny to… to put my head in the toilet.”
He then shifted the weight of his books in his arms again, “I just want to go back and dry off before anyone else sees me like this.” There was a long silence after that, filled only by the faint dripping of his robes onto the floor. Then, more softly, he added, “Thanks, though. For… you know, stopping to ask.”
He risked a small glance up at Harlan. “I’ll be fine,” he said again, "I just need to learn how to fight back."
@Harlan Montgomery
Picking up the Pieces
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i hear you're lookin' for a way to fight the corpus bride she's workin' in my mind summary, this thread is happening on A RANDOM DAY, at a RANDOM TIME with @PERCIVAL ROCIER / wc: 398. " That's fucked, seriously. " Dunking someone's head into the toilet? That was far beyond the likes of a Pureblood's prank, the thought was absolutely abhorrent and made Harlan physically recoil at the thought. With a shake of his head, the teenager's anger expanded as he hated to see this type of direct confrontation when it was so clear that this Slytherin kid was in over his head. The ends did not justify the means when it came to this.
Harlan nodded as he heard more about the assault. Of course, he'd want to not be in the middle of the Corridors but he'd at least do just a little to help ease some of the discomfort the young wizard might've been feeling. " Here, this is the least I can do for now. " Reaching deep into his robe pocket, Harlan pulled out his slender dark cherry wand and gripped it loosely as he took a couple steps back and began to cast the hot-air charm. " Aer Calidus. " The incantation came out smoothly as the Gryffindor made soft swirls with his wrist and a stream of hot air began to blow from the tip of his wand. He kept his wand pointed fairly low so that the boy could decide how he wanted to dry himself up. He couldn't imagine being bullied like that himself and the thought pissed him off like no other, but Harlan wouldn't jump to any conclusions quite yet. " See look, this'll dry you up in no time and no one will be the wiser. " Harlan usually wasn't quite this soft, but the nerve struck panged far more intensely than the teenager was anticipating. If this meant he might be a help to the younger ones from getting absolutely obliterated like he did, than perhaps this would be his calling card to help them out. " You got a name, kid? You might as well tell me yours before I just make a silly one up. " An air of humor, a slight chuckle to help ease the serious nature of what they were talking about as Harlan hoped to ease the boy into feeling like he didn't need to be stuck in a fight or flight response. He was safe, Harlan would ensure that for the moment, no one would mess with him while he was already feeling so miserable — even if he was a slippery Slytherin. | —— |