The Keeper's Curse

Note: Here's the chapter that the anti-Percy society has been waiting for... it seems as if every chapter unfolds from a different character's POV, what a coincidence...

Chapter Two

Anything You Can Do...

A hazy mist brushed over the Hogwarts grounds that afternoon. The white puffs in the sky visible in the morning matured into gray-tinted smoky clouds. This cool air wasn’t typical of the early summer. Penelope stood against a fence post breathing in the cool air.

“Penny! I knew you’d finally come to your senses!” Percy stumbled down the hill to the fence clumsily.

Percy was grasping his new broom, the Supersonic, which had just been torn from its bright purple package a few minutes before. It was no Firebolt, but it was still a top-of-the-line broom.

“How do you like it Penny?” Percy interrupted.

“Yeah, it’s great Percy Weasley.” Penelope turned away.

Percy leaned against the fence to see what Penelope was gazing at “Well, I’m really glad that you didn’t make such a big deal about the points debacle. Cause sometimes prefects can’t stand losing points. But you know what’s done is done. You can’t change the past.”

Penelope silently clenched her teeth and turned to him abruptly, “Well aren’t you going to— going to practice already!” Penelope let out with a fierce stare. She paused abruptly before she could unleash a long list of obscenities. After that, she gained a strong urge to smack Percy upside the head, but she retained her composure. Penelope obviously wasn’t in the mood to argue—or even talk to Percy anymore.

“Okay then…” Percy backed down slowly with one eyebrow raised. He was surprised by this sudden outburst but he was still too ignorant to see the disapproval in Penelope’s melancholy gray eyes. He opened the swinging gate and proceeded into the Pitch. And the last person he wanted to see appeared right in front of him.

“Hey Perce, going to practice flying now?” It was Oliver Wood; he looked at his broom and responded with a sincere smile.

Percy glanced at Oliver coldly, and then moved his eyes to the crowd gathered behind Oliver. There was about 20 or so 1^st and 2^nd years holding their brooms. Many of them were holding the school’s old brooms, few brooms looked like competition for Percy’s.

“What, YOU’re giving out flying lessons now, Wood?” he let out a snort.

“Well, I volunteered to teach these younger years, I was practicing Quidditch anyway, and these students are Hogwarts Quidditch hopefuls, right? How about I teach you?” Oliver let out a friendly smile.

“For your information, I don’t need an insolent brute like you to teach me a simple trick such as flying on a broomstick!” belted out Percy, “I can do it myself perfectly fine if you must know! I am a Head Boy.”

He flashed his badge, as if the students needed another reminder that he had power over them. And he stuck his chin haughtily up. He crossed his left leg over the broom and mounted on to it, ready to kick off the ground. Percy looked like he was surrounded by an air of expertise. The younger students were in eager anticipation for a grand spectacle in flying.

“Percy, stop, wait, you can’t—” Oliver shook his head in worry.

“I think you’ve said enough already,” he replied with his legs still crossed over the broom.

Some first years started giggling, but not until one young Slytherin let out a snort did Percy realized he had the tail feathers of the broom facing the front with the handle in the back.

Percy looked down, his eyes bulged out, and he quickly jumped off his Supersonic looking like it had bit him. He picked himself up, kept a straight face, and calmly dusted off his robes.

“What are YOU looking at. Is there nowhere that a seventh year can practice Quidditch in peace? Hmmmppphhh…” and he walked out.

The crowd was stunned. Percy walked up the hill until he could not be seen anymore. Suddenly they saw a running silhouette approaching. It was Percy; he picked up his forgotten broom from the ground swiftly and leapt away into the mist again.

“Whoa. What just happened there?” Oliver asked with a puzzled expression.

“Its just Percy, isn’t that obvious…” Penelope answered sullenly in a low voice.

“Are you okay?” he dumbfoundedly asked.

“Yeah, whatever I’m fine.” She cleared her throat and rubbed her face with her sleeve.

“Cause if you’re not, I can always walk with you to Madame Pomfrey’s office and get an ice-pack. That’s what always makes me feel better. Come on, let’s go, Madame Pomfrey’s used to seeing me in the hospital wing anyway.”

Penelope looked up at his concerned appearance, and couldn’t help chuckling. Oliver was desperately trying to help but he was too naïve to know how. In fact, he couldn’t even remember her name.

Penelope’s smile lit up her face again, “No, it’s okay I don’t really need an ice-pack, but thanks anyway.”

She walked away slowly and awkwardly, consumed by her silent uncontrollable laughter.

 

Later that day, Penelope walked down the candlelit Great Hall, illuminated in a golden aura under the monotonous sky above. Almost everyone was assembled there already. She sat down in her usual seat in the Ravenclaw table, across from Percy’s seat in the Gryffindor table. The empty plates were filled with dinner the second she sat down.

“PENNY!”

She recognized that shrill voice immediately, and then she rolled her eyes. “What is it Percy?”

“I’ve done some exercises in maneuvering the broom, so now I know how to control in once I’m in the air, which will be soon. Fred and George offered to teach me, I refused at first, but they added the benefits of exclusive insider info. They call it their “Fool-Proof Flying Method for Dummies,” quite offensive so I deducted 5 points. That’s beside the point, but I don’t really understand why tucking your hands into your pants helps you gain altitude. And why making a fish face, like this, makes you accelerate. George say it’s because of the aerodynamic streamlined effect it gives and—”

“Listen—Percy, I have to talk to you,” she interrupted.

“—So now I’m going to have to send an owl to mum to tell her to leave some space in the trophy room for her up-and-coming Quidditch legend son.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled in the form of words, “Percy, I’m sorry I have to say this to you but, SHUT UP! I don’t care about you going on and on about your mastery at Quidditch and how you can just proclaim yourself ‘your majesty’ and think anything you say goes and deducting points all the time, and you don’t have a speck of concern over me anymore, I’m just here to listen to you talking to yourself, there is just so many things wrong with that Percy, and I’m not even mentioning the fact that—”

“Penny, Penny, calm down, I think you need to take in some oxygen before you spit out another 500 words per minute. Take a deep breath, now try to say whatever you were blabbing before one word at a time, you see. L-i-k-e t-h-i-s, o-k-a-y?” Percy gestured slowly to her, as if she were a first grader. “That’s right, nice and s-l-o-w-l-y. Hyperventilating in a b-i-g No-no.”

“Okay P-e-r-c-y, what I meant to say was: I don’t ever want to talk to you again, Percy W-e-a-s-l-e-y, I-t i-s o-v-e-r, can you say w-e-’-r-e b-r-e-a-k-i-n-g u-p?” she remarked sarcastically. Her pseudo-cheery smile warped into a look so sinister she would probably be expelled for threatening a student if the teachers saw.

Percy finally understood her pleas. His girlfriend was never like this; she was generally quiet and retained her composure. He turned around and quietly stared at the lamb chop on his plate. He nervously looked sideways at the Ravenclaw table without turning his head. The Gryffindors were giving him strange looks.

“What are you doing Percy?” Fred asked with his eyebrow raised.

“Shhhh!!!” Percy slunk down into his seat.

“Ughhhh!!! [CLUNK!!!]” from the other table someone screamed in frustration and stabbed their plate with the stainless steel fork.

It was obviously Penny; Percy was not only sad but also, SCARED… he gulped. But truthfully, the thought of his girlfriend of 2 years, 1 month, and 4 days, breaking up with him in a fit of rage hadn’t completely sank into his thick skull. Percy was very book-smart but he lacked the sensitivity of understanding human emotions and most of all, he lacked common sense.