#it 5am

Fresh air. The Weasley had only been looking for some fresh air to clear his head -- just for a minute. Outside, on the Quidditch stands seemed as good of a spot as any and Percy barely enjoyed that minute before an ill-aimed shot from the players practicing in the sky sent a Quaffle hurtling towards him. The blasted thing smacked him good and hard on the shoulder and before he knew it, he was seeing the clouds up ahead and a familiar voice preventing him from getting up. 

“What the--” Percy gasped, arm twitching and sending a shooting burst of pain through his body. Dislocated shoulder was his guess and this was the exact reason he didn’t try out for the sport. Other than being a little too wobbly on a broom. “It hit me!” The redhead suddenly yelped, anger fueling him for a hot minute and he struggled to get up before plopping back down. “Who--!? Why--!?” He gritted his teeth, hand flying to his shoulder and cursed under his breath. “I should’a stayed in, I knew it...”