The Right-hand Corridor

A Harry Potter fic by Elise

Rating: G. Maybe PG with the action scenes at the end, but I haven’t written those yet.
Warnings: Um… chibi-Oliver?
Summary: Percy Weasley finally gets to go to Hogwarts. But can he stand it, with the Slytherins, an exuberant roommate, a mysterious disappearing hallway, and -worst of all- getting points off?

In which Percy and Oliver adjust to Hogwarts by getting horribly lost.

****

Percy sat up quickly. "What-" Then he remembered that it hadn’t been an explosion or screaming or the ghoul in the attic that had woken him up. It had been a soft thud and an "Ow!" from Oliver.

"Are you okay?" he called.

"Yeah. I just hit my head on the bedpost. I forgot where I was, for a minute."

"So did I. I was wondering why there weren’t any explosions…"

"You make it sound like your home is a madhouse!" Oliver laughed.

Percy grumbled. "It is."

"I’m hungry! Let’s get breakfast!" Oliver announced suddenly. He bounded out of bed and changed quickly. Percy followed suit, except for the bounding part.

Scabbers was still sound asleep, so it was just Percy and Oliver who got lost on the way to the Hall for breakfast. They ran into an older girl, however, who helped them out.

"I’m going down myself," she explained as she walked with them. "I promised Robert I’d meet him there." And she smiled, a funny distant smile that Percy had seen his mother get when she was remembering something sweet his father had done. Oliver recognized the look as well, because he made a gagging noise. Percy agreed. He hated it when girls got lovey-dovey.

Oliver and Percy had already started eating when the first-year girls joined them.

"Hey, Janey," Oliver said. "I think your sister walked us down this morning." They looked remarkably similar, with straight blonde hair and green eyes.

"Did she? And did she talk about Robert the whole way?"

"You bet!" They made faces at that.

"Wait until you’re their age, little ones," chuckled a new voice with a slight accent. It was Tony Scarborough, the sixth year prefect. "When you’re fourteen too, you’ll understand."

"I don’t think I ever will," Oliver insisted. "Who wants to sit around and kiss girls when you could be out doing something? Like Quidditch!"

"Oh, but they do play!" the prefect laughed. "That’s our Keeper and Seeker over there!"

"No wonder Bran’s worried about the team," Oliver muttered.

"I want to know what our schedule is," Missy Green interrupted. She wasn’t bad, but she was they type who let you know what she wanted, when she wanted it, and expected to get it. She was really quite spoiled, actually.

"I have it right here," Tony said.

"Then why are you wasting time talking about girls?!" Percy said, a little too eagerly. Missy and the others glared at him.

Percy ignored them, and eagerly snatched the class listing from Tony as he handed them out. Tony raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

"Oh, Charms first today!"

"Yeah, but I bet History of Magic is a real snoozer."

"I LIKE history!"

"Transfiguration sounds like fun."

"Herbology on Wednesdays…."

"I can’t wait to try Potions!" The older Gryffindors flinched.

"What? What’s so bad about Potions?" Percy said, jumping to Sara’s defense.

"It’s taught by Professor Snape," said a fourth-year.

"He HATES us," a second-year practically wailed.

"Nonsense! A teacher wouldn’t be that biased to hate a whole House!"

"It’s true," Tony said, putting a hand on Percy’s shoulder. "Snape is in charge of i volgari serpenti-"

"The Slytherins," Bran clarified as he reached the table. "What about them now?"

"We’re telling the firsties about Snape," an older girl put in.

"Professor Snape," Bran corrected idly as he sat down. "Yes, watch out for him. He doesn’t like Gryffindor very much, so he tries to take points off us more than the others."

"But… That’s not fair!" Percy protested.

"That’s the way it is," Bran said sadly. "Just answer his questions, stay out of his way, and don’t blow up your potions. Have some eggs?"

****

Charms went well, although Professer Flitwick remembered Bill and Charlie well, and beamed so brightly when he said "Weasley" that Percy groaned. History of Magic was incredibly boring, but he was determined to make it through, not that Oliver’s drooling on the desk helped.

When Professor Binns ended the class, Percy poked Oliver a few times to wake him up.

"-got the Snitch! We won- oh, hi Percy."

"Don’t ‘Hi Percy’ me!" he snapped. "You slept through History of Magic!"

"Yeah, well…." Oliver had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Can I copy your notes?"

"No!" Percy sounded scandalized at the very thought, like Oliver had just asked to read his journal or something.

"But I drooled on mine!"

"Whose fault is that?" Percy shoved his thing into his bag and headed out the door.

Oliver scurried after him. "C’mon, Percy!"

"Be quiet! I’m trying to remember the way back."

"Left at the statue of the dancing cow, I think."

"Yes, but after that…" They walked for a bit. A long bit.

"I think we’re lost," Percy announced after they’d been walking for ten minutes with no familiar landmarks.

"Me too. Well, everyone gets lost the first couple days, right? All we need to do is find someone and ask them."

"Yes, but finding someone will be the hard part."

They were in an elegant corridor with a faded red carpet. The ceiling was arched, and the walls had a dark paneling. The corridor branched in front of them.

"Who ever heard of a corridor that branches off?" Percy fussed.

"Dunno. But I don’t like it… The right side looks… off." The right hand branch was somewhat darker, while the left hand was illuminated, mostly by a painting of sunflowers that actually shone.

"Let’s take the left."

Oliver nodded. "I wonder how late we are for lunch?"

"Lunch?! At this rate, we’ll be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts!" A note of hysteria crept into Percy’s voice. "We’re going to be late for class…" he moaned, stopping dead in his tracks.

"C’mon Percy! Keep walking. We’ll make it. Just… don’t stop." He grabbed Percy’s wrist and started pulling him forward.

****

What felt like hours later-

"WHERE THE HELL ARE WE!?"

"Percy!" Oliver hissed.

"Who’s there," a voice called. It was Hagrid, carrying a bucket of what looked like snails.

"Oh Hagrid thank goodness someone’s found us thank you thank you thank you look Oliver now we can get to Defense Against the Dark Arts and I won’t miss class and they won’t have to send an owl home after all!" Percy hugged Oliver’s arm in relief.

"’Ello there," Hagrid said, eyeing the hysterical Percy.

"Hi Hagrid," Oliver said cheerfully. "We’re lost!"

"Are yeh? Well, let’s get yeh straightened out, er…"

"Oliver. Oliver Wood. And this incoherent mess is my roommate Percy Weasley." Percy started at the sound of his name, and looked around nervously. He detached himself from Oliver’s arm and stood up straight, trying to recover his dignity.

"So where are yeh supposed ter be?"

"Lunch if there’s time. Defense Against the Dark Arts if there’s not," Percy said.

"We’ve got time ter swing by the Great Hall. They’ll be finishing up soon, though, so yeh’ll have to get somethin’ quick."

"Thank you Hagrid!" the boys chorused and they started off, talking merrily with Hagrid’s bucket of snails swinging between them.

They reached the Great Hall without mishap, and Percy and Oliver hurried over to their table after saying goodbye to Hagrid (who had to take the snails out to the lake). As they reached the table, they saw Bran Hunter’s dark head swivel towards them.

"Where have you been?" he hissed. "I’ve been worried sick!"

"We got lost!" Percy wailed.

"And then Percy had a breakdown!"

"But Hagrid helped us and- Hey!"

Bran put a hand to his chest, inhaling deeply, and exhaled. His whole body seemed to relax. "Thank goodness you’re alright. Eat something quick; we’re all almost done." He turned back to his sandwich, which looked like it had been through a war- picked at, nibbled on, and taken apart, but not really eaten. Percy slouched in shame. And here all he’d been thinking about was how much trouble he’d be in when his poor prefect was so concerned he couldn’t eat!

"I’m sorry, Bran," he whispered.

"What? Oh no, don’t worry! Everyone gets lost. I still get lost every couple of months. Soon though, you’ll know that way and barely have to think about it. Like that trick step, or the door that leads to the invisible stairs on Fridays. It’d just be bad, you know, if my two princes got lost forever on the first day." He turned back to his demolished sandwich.

Percy turned to Oliver to say something, and stopped. The other boy was devouring a sandwich like he hadn’t eaten in a week.

"C’mon, Perce," he said around a mouthful. "We won’t get to eat again until dinner!"

Percy dug in.

****

The rest of the week passed relatively quickly (as first weeks go) except for Potions and Tony Scarborough.

Potions was held in a dungeon that was cold all year round. Percy dreaded winter in there already. Oliver, who flew on his broomstick in any kind of weather- "Except snowstorms. Mum won’t let me out."- didn’t seem to care. But the worst part was Snape. He asked what bluespine was used for and snapped at Sara Proctor when she didn’t know, even though Percy and one of the Hufflepuffs had raised their hands. After the fourth question (all of which Percy had known and raised his hand for), he snapped at Percy.

"Mr. Weasly, please! Do you really believe you can think for the entire class? When I’ve seen little evidence that there is a whole braincell among you all?" Percy and the class sat in stunned silence. "Now put your hand down. There’s no reason to call even more attention to yourself than you naturally do." And he eyed Percy bright red hair before turning away and giving instructions for a simple potion. Percy and Oliver’s turned out nearly perfect, but Snape didn’t notice. He was too busy criticizing the Hufflepuffs- each and every one.

"Monstrously unfair!" Percy cried as they left. He hadn’t spoken a word above a whisper since Snape had yelled at him. "I can’t believe it! That was… that was… He deliberately made fun of me! And he didn’t even notice my beautiful potion!"

"Hey, I helped!" Oliver protested.

On the other hand, Tony Scarborough was just as bad. He, however, was good-natured about it- as good-natured as teasing gets. He’d heard what Bran had said to them at lunch after he had gotten lost, and had taken to calling them ‘Dui Pricipi’- Two Princes. Tony took every opportunity to speak in Italian, and regaled the first year girls with tales of hischildhood in Italy. He even gave them all nicknames. Sara was ‘Usignola’- nightengale- because she sang well. This set off a bird theme, and Oliver and Percy were cursed with Duck and Rooster, respectively.

"Because you sing so sweetly, miei Dui Principi," he said to them, grinning. "Will you sing for us, Gallo?" he would ask Percy, who blushed and mumbled.

"Yeah, let’s see how you like being called ‘Anitro’," Oliver growled.

"Shut up, Wood," Bran snapped. "At least he doesn’t call YOU ‘Cacciatore!" This set off gales of laughter at the table, which was especially raucous among the upperclassmen, who seemed to have their own jokes about everything.

"Hey Tony, had your Cacciatore yet?"

This always set Bran himself into a grumbling fit. "’Cacciatore’ means ‘Hunter’. It’s my last name, see?" he explained to the boys the first time it happened. "Besides being slightly dirty-" Percy blushed, but didn’t really understand "-it’s a pun. I hate puns. They’re the lowest form of humor. Except for fart jokes, of course."

****

One morning, the school owl that Percy had sent his letter home with arrived back, dropping a small package onto his lap.

"Oh! It’s a letter from home!"

"Cool," Oliver said between bites of toast. "Open it!"

Percy obliged him.

Inside was a small black book and a stack of letters. He decided to read the letters first. Oliver whined.

"It’s polite to read the letters first," Percy insisted.

"But I wanna know what the book is!"

"Later." And he began to read.

"That’s really nice of them," Oliver said.

"What, to check the twins’ letter for hexes?" He turned to the next letter, which was written in a hasty scrawl.

"Bill was Head Boy," Percy told Oliver (smugly for a change). "He knows we’re just as smart as Ravenclaw- he was in Gryffindor, too."

The next letter was from Charlie.

"Figures Charlie would talk about Quidditch," Percy sighed. "That’s all he cares about. Quidditch and dragons."

"Nothing wrong with that." Oliver paused. "Hey, Percy, when I’m on the team, will you come to my Quidditch games?"

"Of course, Oliver. Don’t be silly." He sipped his orange juice and picked up the next letter. It was from the twins, and alternated handwriting every paragraph. They’d both had their hands on it.

Percy shivered. "Maybe I’ll stay here over break…."

"Why?" Oliver asked. "They sound like they miss you."

"I told you about the twins, Oiliver. They were probably trying to send me a dungbomb, or screaming mimi’s or something even worse."

The last letter made Percy smile though. It was in a familiar blocky scrawl that he had seen much of over the summer.

"Look at that!" Percy said proudly as he passed Ron’s letter around so everyone could see. "My six-year-old brother! Only a few spelling mistakes and no backwards letters!" Oliver grinned indulgently. The girls cooed.

"That’s so cute!"

"Percy, your brother’s adorable!"

Percy sat grinning, his chest puffed out and looking like he were the one solely responsible for Ron’s cuteness. Oliver choked back a laugh.

"What?" Percy snapped.

"Nothing," Oliver said innocently, and snorted as he tried not to chuckle.

******

Author’s Notes: Here it is, finally. The third part of RHC. Hopefully I can get the fourth part out faster. ^_^ I will be finishing this fic; it just may be awhile between chapters. Updates will be sporadic, as I have a tendency NOT to want to type. However, I’m trying to clean up and finish things, so maybe I can get this completed in a semi-timely manner.

With love to all who read, and to all who review,
Thank you everyone for being patient with me,
-Elise

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