Categories > Books > Harry Potter
Two Sides To Every Story
0 reviewsPERCY WEASLEY/OLIVER WOOD. Maybe Percy isn't such a Prize Git after all?
-1OOC
~PERCY WEASLEY'S P.O.V~
As always, I am sitting at my desk at work, scribbling avidly, not daring to look up in fear of getting distracted. I chance at peeking at my watch. Another twenty minutes until I get out of work and see Oliver. Regardless to how I feel about the Ministry and my family, the thought brings a smile to my pale and tired face. After fifteen minutes of spell checking and file sorting I managed to get out of my small, cramped office and into an even more crowded elevator.
"... With Arthur Weasley on level three. Shame... Awful shame.." says one of the bearded wizards in the lift. My heart skipped a beat when I hear my fathers name and wonder what on eart he's talking about that could possibly be regarding my father,
I clear my throat awkwardly as the doors creek open at the auditorium and I step into the fireplace, throwing green powder into the air and I say, "33 Dawson's avenue." I picture my living room, cluttered with Oliver's things such as broom servicing kits, his broom, family photos, paperwork, etc.
I stumble out of the fireplace, wiping my feet on the doormat strategically placed in front of the fireplace.
"Hello, love." Oliver says from the sofa, looking up briefly from his copy of the Prophet. On the front cover is a familiar picture of an old acquaintance of ours, Harry Potter. It's headlined: POTTER: DUMBLEDORE'S MAN THROUGH AND THROUGH by RITA SKEETER.
I recongised the photograph from an article in the Quibbler last summer.
I smile at him from across the room and walk across to him, kicking off my shoes and leaving them lying in the middle of the cream carpet.
"Hey Ollie." I sigh, kissing his cheek.
He looks up and asks,"What's up, Perce?" Ah. He knows me a bit too well then...
"I heard one of the regulations of magical creatures fellows in the lift, talking about my Father again today." I sigh.
"Oh Perce! I'm sure he's fine. There's been nothing in the papers... Don't worry, my love."
As always, I am sitting at my desk at work, scribbling avidly, not daring to look up in fear of getting distracted. I chance at peeking at my watch. Another twenty minutes until I get out of work and see Oliver. Regardless to how I feel about the Ministry and my family, the thought brings a smile to my pale and tired face. After fifteen minutes of spell checking and file sorting I managed to get out of my small, cramped office and into an even more crowded elevator.
"... With Arthur Weasley on level three. Shame... Awful shame.." says one of the bearded wizards in the lift. My heart skipped a beat when I hear my fathers name and wonder what on eart he's talking about that could possibly be regarding my father,
I clear my throat awkwardly as the doors creek open at the auditorium and I step into the fireplace, throwing green powder into the air and I say, "33 Dawson's avenue." I picture my living room, cluttered with Oliver's things such as broom servicing kits, his broom, family photos, paperwork, etc.
I stumble out of the fireplace, wiping my feet on the doormat strategically placed in front of the fireplace.
"Hello, love." Oliver says from the sofa, looking up briefly from his copy of the Prophet. On the front cover is a familiar picture of an old acquaintance of ours, Harry Potter. It's headlined: POTTER: DUMBLEDORE'S MAN THROUGH AND THROUGH by RITA SKEETER.
I recongised the photograph from an article in the Quibbler last summer.
I smile at him from across the room and walk across to him, kicking off my shoes and leaving them lying in the middle of the cream carpet.
"Hey Ollie." I sigh, kissing his cheek.
He looks up and asks,"What's up, Perce?" Ah. He knows me a bit too well then...
"I heard one of the regulations of magical creatures fellows in the lift, talking about my Father again today." I sigh.
"Oh Perce! I'm sure he's fine. There's been nothing in the papers... Don't worry, my love."
Sign up to rate and review this story