[EN] Pick me up

Percy shook his head, but Oliver gleefully ignored his wish to pay attention to professor Binns. The tiny ball of parchment hovered insistently in Percy’s line of vision, moving left or right whenever he did, and thereby making it impossible to focus on his own notes on the goblin rebellions in July 1789. Percy realised he wasn’t going to win this fight, so he took the paper and unfolded it. He made a show of taking his time to straighten out the folds just to annoy Oliver.
      Hey, Perce! it said in Oliver’s messy scrawl. There are twenty letters in the alphabet, right?
      Percy gaped at Oliver disbelievingly. Oliver simply smiled and somehow managed to look completely innocent and like he wanted to eat Percy at the same time. Percy repressed the urge to keep staring at Oliver and find out if he would make good on his promise by looking at the message again and willing himself to remember how annoyed and shocked he was. He turned the parchment over to write his response on the backside.
      No. There are twenty-six letters in the English alphabet. If you had ever opened one of your textbooks, you would know this.
      He folded the parchment neatly and sent it flying to Oliver while Binns had his back turned to the class. A reply landed on his table almost immediately.
      Oh, right. I must’ve forgotten u r a q t. ; )
      Percy tried to act like the tips of his ears weren’t turning a shade of red that would make Oliver’s Quidditch robe look bleak. He dipped his quill in the ink and wrote a dignified response.
      Twenty-six letters, Oliver. Twenty and five is twenty-five.
      Oliver’s answer came with a wink and made him splutter.
      Don’t worry, I’ll give you the d later.
      Percy stared at the parchment for so long he completely missed the moment Binns dismissed the class. He packed up his things quickly and exited the classroom, which resulted very nearly in a collision with Oliver, who had apparently been waiting for him just outside the door. Percy did his best to scowl at him, but Oliver grinned winningly regardless.
      “Hey Perce,” he said, while he took Percy’s bag from him. Percy briefly considered putting up a struggle and insisting on carrying his own stuff, but then decided it wouldn’t be worth it. “How did you like my messages?”
      “They were terrible,” Percy said, which was not, strictly speaking, a lie. They really had been terrible, even though he hadn’t exactly hated them. “You have the worst sense of humour imaginable.”
      “That’s all right. It wasn’t meant as a joke anyway.”
      “Then what was it supposed to be? Please enlighten me.”
      Oliver just wiggled his eyebrows in a manner that shouldn’t have looked attractive in the least. “I know we’re not in professor Flitwick’s class, but you’re still charming.”
      “I hope you realise you’re ridiculous.”
      “C’mon Perce, you know we’d be prefect together. I’m a keeper, ask anyone! And if you were a dementor, I’d become a criminal just to get your kiss.”
      “That doesn’t even make any sense. Where did you get all this from?”
      “A book I found in the library. It’s great. You know, I’ve been whomping my willow thinking about you.”
      “Merlin, Oliver!”
      “What?”
      “That’s-” Percy wasn’t quite sure how to end that sentence. He went for a repeat of what he’d said earlier. “That’s terrible.”
      “I don’t think so,” Oliver said happily. “Oh, but I can be sweet, if you want. Sweeter than a sugar quill, Perce.”
      “You really don’t need to.”
      “Did you know my love for you burns like a dying phoenix?”
      “Please stop.”
      “You have the portkey to my heart.”
      There was really only one way to shut Oliver up, Percy knew. “Well,” he sighed. He grabbed Oliver’s sleeve and started pulling him back the way they’d come. He was sure he had seen a broom closet somewhere. He’d have time to question his life choices later, when Oliver was distracted with coming out of the closet puns. “Let’s make some magic.”