RP: A chilly walk and a warm drink
Date: November 8, 1998
Characters: Percy Weasley, anyone else?
Location: Diagon Alley
Status: Public
Summary: Percy is known to make mistakes, but this was just another level of embarrassment.
Completion: Incomplete(?)
Percy debated just apparating to Diagon Alley in his jumper, but grabbed his cloak at the last moment. The cold air would certainly help... matters. He stood in a secluded alley of Diagon at dusk, and sucked in a deep breath as he clasped his cloak around his throat. He was almost positive he was that infamous, frightful shade of Weasley red.
His brother was a genius. He had known this, of course, but now that Percy had experienced one of George's more creative charms, he was entirely impressed, as well as a few other feelings he didn't want to think about.
All he had decided at this point was that he needed something strong to drink and not to run into a certain few people. What had he been thinking, offering to try out a product for George? It's not like George could have had any doubt that it would work properly- and oh, it had worked. Percy lifted his head as he began to walk down Diagon, letting the chilly air whip his hair about his ears. It needed to be cut. Anyway, it wasn't all his fault- he hadn't know it would be a daydream charm when he offered his services.
He started to head towards George's shop, but changed directions until he decided he wanted to commend George or hex him. A drink would certainly do him much better. Plus, Angelina was still living at the flat, wasn't she? And maybe he could relax- it hadn't really been that bad- oh, yes it had. He certainly didn't want to know his innermost thoughts about... well, a few people. He'd hardly even thought of other males in that way, even while conscious. It was just one male, he reasoned, and then shook his head slightly, finding himself in front of the Leaky. He didn't indulge often, especially on work nights, but oh gods- work. He was going to need a few shots of courage to go in the morning.
He couldn't be mad at George, not really, he supposed. Percy liked to consider himself mostly reasonable, when he tried, and it wasn't George that planted those lustful thoughts about Percy's close friends in his mind (no matter how deep they may have been planted, apparently). He also didn't necessarily force Percy to take the charm, which even indicated a 'more than one' on the casing. So really, Percy just needed to relax. And find a dark corner and drink until his little problem finally went away. He had heard that happened with whiskey- not that he would know. But maybe it was time to give it a shot (or two). No, he was Percy Weasley: just one would do. What would Mrs. Tonks say, otherwise? He shook his head quickly. Wrong person to think about.
He ordered his drink (and a glass of water) and found a booth in the corner to sit and hopefully gather his thoughts. They were not as organized as he usually liked. He took a sip, knowing one didn't often sip from a shot glass, and rested his head against the back of the chair, finally letting a laugh, if a nervous one, escape from his lips.
Characters: Percy Weasley, anyone else?
Location: Diagon Alley
Status: Public
Summary: Percy is known to make mistakes, but this was just another level of embarrassment.
Completion: Incomplete(?)
Percy debated just apparating to Diagon Alley in his jumper, but grabbed his cloak at the last moment. The cold air would certainly help... matters. He stood in a secluded alley of Diagon at dusk, and sucked in a deep breath as he clasped his cloak around his throat. He was almost positive he was that infamous, frightful shade of Weasley red.
His brother was a genius. He had known this, of course, but now that Percy had experienced one of George's more creative charms, he was entirely impressed, as well as a few other feelings he didn't want to think about.
All he had decided at this point was that he needed something strong to drink and not to run into a certain few people. What had he been thinking, offering to try out a product for George? It's not like George could have had any doubt that it would work properly- and oh, it had worked. Percy lifted his head as he began to walk down Diagon, letting the chilly air whip his hair about his ears. It needed to be cut. Anyway, it wasn't all his fault- he hadn't know it would be a daydream charm when he offered his services.
He started to head towards George's shop, but changed directions until he decided he wanted to commend George or hex him. A drink would certainly do him much better. Plus, Angelina was still living at the flat, wasn't she? And maybe he could relax- it hadn't really been that bad- oh, yes it had. He certainly didn't want to know his innermost thoughts about... well, a few people. He'd hardly even thought of other males in that way, even while conscious. It was just one male, he reasoned, and then shook his head slightly, finding himself in front of the Leaky. He didn't indulge often, especially on work nights, but oh gods- work. He was going to need a few shots of courage to go in the morning.
He couldn't be mad at George, not really, he supposed. Percy liked to consider himself mostly reasonable, when he tried, and it wasn't George that planted those lustful thoughts about Percy's close friends in his mind (no matter how deep they may have been planted, apparently). He also didn't necessarily force Percy to take the charm, which even indicated a 'more than one' on the casing. So really, Percy just needed to relax. And find a dark corner and drink until his little problem finally went away. He had heard that happened with whiskey- not that he would know. But maybe it was time to give it a shot (or two). No, he was Percy Weasley: just one would do. What would Mrs. Tonks say, otherwise? He shook his head quickly. Wrong person to think about.
He ordered his drink (and a glass of water) and found a booth in the corner to sit and hopefully gather his thoughts. They were not as organized as he usually liked. He took a sip, knowing one didn't often sip from a shot glass, and rested his head against the back of the chair, finally letting a laugh, if a nervous one, escape from his lips.