Post by Rachael on Nov 14, 2011 9:02:31 GMT -8
Title: Ickle Perfect Prefect Percy
Rating: G
Word Count: 271
Warnings: None
Summary: Fred and George have a surprise for Percy! ;D
Fred and George peeked their heads up over the top of Stoatshead Hill, an identical pair of grins gracing their identical freckled faces. Perfect Prefect Percy was sprawling on the grass, a Potions textbook opened on the ground in front of him, his glasses almost falling off his freckled nose, so intent was he on his studies. Fred and George ducked down below the top of the hill, and shared a glance. “This is it,” George whispered, eyes alight with mischief.
“The moment we’ve all been waiting for,” Fred concurred, before reaching in to his robe pocket. He withdrew a miniscule Quaffle, which he proceeded to enlarge to regular size. “Here we go,” they said in complete synchronisation. George cast a nonverbal charm over the Quaffle and flung it. Fred and George lay in silence, listening intently. They had to stifle their laughter when they heard Ickle Perfect Prefect Percy yelp in surprise. They peeked over the hill again, and saw Percy standing up, a big red mark in the centre of his back, looking around like a deer in search of the enemy.
In mid-air, the Quaffle turned around and came right back at Percy, aiming for his chest. Percy leaned back, missing the Quaffle by an inch. The Quaffle spun around, aiming for him. Percy screamed like a little girl and broke in to a sprint, his Potions textbook forgotten on the ground. Grinning like Cheshire Cats, Fred and George scrambled up from the ground and chased after Percy, pulling cameras out of the pockets, taking pictures in duplicate. They would never, ever let Percy live this one down.
Rating: G
Word Count: 271
Warnings: None
Summary: Fred and George have a surprise for Percy! ;D
Fred and George peeked their heads up over the top of Stoatshead Hill, an identical pair of grins gracing their identical freckled faces. Perfect Prefect Percy was sprawling on the grass, a Potions textbook opened on the ground in front of him, his glasses almost falling off his freckled nose, so intent was he on his studies. Fred and George ducked down below the top of the hill, and shared a glance. “This is it,” George whispered, eyes alight with mischief.
“The moment we’ve all been waiting for,” Fred concurred, before reaching in to his robe pocket. He withdrew a miniscule Quaffle, which he proceeded to enlarge to regular size. “Here we go,” they said in complete synchronisation. George cast a nonverbal charm over the Quaffle and flung it. Fred and George lay in silence, listening intently. They had to stifle their laughter when they heard Ickle Perfect Prefect Percy yelp in surprise. They peeked over the hill again, and saw Percy standing up, a big red mark in the centre of his back, looking around like a deer in search of the enemy.
In mid-air, the Quaffle turned around and came right back at Percy, aiming for his chest. Percy leaned back, missing the Quaffle by an inch. The Quaffle spun around, aiming for him. Percy screamed like a little girl and broke in to a sprint, his Potions textbook forgotten on the ground. Grinning like Cheshire Cats, Fred and George scrambled up from the ground and chased after Percy, pulling cameras out of the pockets, taking pictures in duplicate. They would never, ever let Percy live this one down.
