An Open Post
Percy is seated, with care, in the kitchen with a steaming up of tea and a book. However, Prefects Who Gained Power is being quite ignored in favor of stroking the feathers of Hermes, his loyal screech owl who seems to have found his way back to his master well enough.
A bit of parchment as well as ink and quill is set aside, the beginings of a letter to Ron scribbled. The letter is forgotten as well though, the words running dry. Percy seems to be lost in thought, though it's doubtful even he knows what is on his mind.
He clucks his tongue softly at his owl and takes a long drag of tea, turning the page of his book, absently.
Percy is, of course, free to be bothered. By anyone, really, though he'd likely be glad to see someone he knows, whether it be family or from school.
A bit of parchment as well as ink and quill is set aside, the beginings of a letter to Ron scribbled. The letter is forgotten as well though, the words running dry. Percy seems to be lost in thought, though it's doubtful even he knows what is on his mind.
He clucks his tongue softly at his owl and takes a long drag of tea, turning the page of his book, absently.
Percy is, of course, free to be bothered. By anyone, really, though he'd likely be glad to see someone he knows, whether it be family or from school.