Chapter Text
☙Hogwarts, 1997❧
Gryffindor Common Room
The common room was dull, but it was certainly occupied. The N.E.W.T.S. were rapidly approaching, and quite literally looming over the students in the form of McGonagall’s typical lecture. Which, in other words, constituted frantic studying and lesson-cramming at absurd hours of night. Hermione seemed to be quite stiff to Ron’s quips especially. Nonetheless, the group stuck together. Harry lounged about the space without a care in the world of how unscholarly the lot of them were posed - Neville draped across the sofa, Ron leaned against the sofa with Scabbers in his lap(which he often pet like a sinister old woman does her groomed cat), and Hermione could be found on the floor with scattered pages only Godrick knows how she memorizes so well. It seemed as if she was attempting to read five pages at once.
Godrick, it was a silly idea to begin with, and, quite frankly, Perley felt like an idiot for agreeing to such ‘tomfoolery’- as Snape would so generously put it. Seriously, drinking a mysterious concoction crafted by the Weasley twins, of all wizards, was the first mistake. Crucial, considering the two were prone to making accidental explosives rather than simple serums.
The twins had so cleverly advertised the ‘potion’- if you could really call it such- as a swap of the future and the present. Though, it really wasn't entirely all that simple. They claim the drinker will be temporarily swapped in place of one’s future self, but the future’s conscience wouldn't inhabit the present’s body. But, Merlin’s beard, if that made any sense at all, Perley would have given the potion not even a glance.
As expected, Perley had foolishly consumed the potion, regardless of the consequences being currently undetermined. Godrick’s sake. He wasn't the only fool, of course. Neville, Harry, and Ron- the damned idiots sipped the sickeningly sweet liquid as well. Anything to escape studying for N.E.W.T.S. at least a few moments. Hermione couldn't help but eye the lot beside her with something resembling a motherly disappointment, nearly lethal to those cowards like Ron.
Surprisingly, they really were transported each between a year to a decade into the future, minds scattered along various times in their lives to be. Perley, well, it didn't take long until he was out cold on the couch, awakening somewhere within his own future. He opened his eyes and glanced around at his unfamiliar surroundings, understanding his situation to be set in a forest of sorts. Merlin…
“Where the focking ‘ell am I…?” Perley grumbled and ran a dirty hand through his equally as filthy hair.
He wandered for much longer than he'd have ever liked, considering the entire damn forest floor was practically mushy mud under his boots. He grunted occasionally as he trudged through the clumpy soil and, conveniently, stumbled upon a puddle of muddled rainwater. Sweet. He could finally see what the hell his future self looked like. Merlin, was it unpleasant. At least by his expectations prior. Truthfully, he thought he would be quite dashing, if only a little.
He undeniably looked older, and if he had to estimate, he’d guess he was about in his early thirties. If he was lucky. Numerous scars littered his skin, probably from all the shenanigans of the rest of his Hogwarts days he hasn't yet lived. If he had it in him, he’d cuss at the scruffy stubble on his jawline. Poor Perley, he had let himself down. How could he get so rugged? Godrick, he must've let himself go along the way. Even if he still couldn't consider himself ugly, by any means, really. He knew himself that way- he knew he was pleasant to look at, despite it all. Confident bastard, he is.
The bag slung over his shoulder practically reeked of goddamn tree sap and… dirt. Just dirt, really. He was far too preoccupied with it all to even imagine searching the bag for the source. He decided to get a move on in whatever direction his feet took him, until he happened upon a fancy cabin. Right hidden in the goddamn trees, and it almost pissed him off how long it took for him to find the place with his eyes.
“‘PROTT’?” Perley read aloud while he gazed befuddled at the sign above the door, “Coincidence, innit?” And, as anyone would, he tried the handle. The moment that door cracked open, his senses were flooded by the terrifically pleasant scent of… cherry pie. Oh, Merlin, he was sold. Whipped, even. He certainly wasn't alone, and, frankly, he couldn't have cared less. If he was being honest with himself, the place felt so strangely familiar. As if whoever happened to be within this cabin wasn't a threat.
When his boots carried him inside the place, and his eyes strayed a bit too comfortably, he was met with a sight so unexpected. He daresay it wasn't even real. Boy, was Perley taken aback beyond return. It would totally be one of his most embarrassing moments when he inevitably looked back on this encounter. It would make him cringe how dumbstruck he must've looked right then. He was the cringy kinda guy, really. There was no mistake, though, it was real, and this was his future life. Any disappointment he had prior vanished with the drafted gust of wind as he shut the door behind himself.
Boy, did the hearth of the cabin feel damn hot… or maybe it was the buzzing nerves under his skin, itching to meet the surface and discover the answers to all the mystery around him. It almost had him with goosebumps. Crazy stuff, really. And when he couldn't pull his eyes away, he was really sold then. Oh boy, it was all over, especially with that classy kinda jazz that only played in the Muggle movies when something corny was about to happen. Like a perfectly timed kiss, or a romantic profession of love, or maybe even a montage of sexy Italian food.
You know, Perley never really spoke much with girls, and he wasn't a very swooning kinda guy, but, Merlin, when it came to a few here and there- he really couldn't think too hard around them or he'd never say a word. He was that kinda guy, truthfully. The kind who doesn't do much about a crush until he knows his bravery will be rewarded. Some would consider him a coward, but he was strategic - something he always told Neville when he fumbled a real nice girl - like how he ‘optimizes his chances of success’ by letting the girls go with the wind if they take a moment too long to reciprocate. Merlin, Perley could be a real phony sometimes.
Especially when it came to Annie Minks, boy, he was just a mess. The poor guy couldn't catch a damn break if his life really depended on it. More often than not, it did. Perley never really spoke much to the girl, but he knew she existed, alright. He couldn't forget it, which was so odd before he drank that goddamn Weasleys’ potion and actually put the pieces together for once. Those two had never been too close, you know, but they were always around each other in some way. Not just because Hogwarts wasn't all that big of a castle after you've been around all the hallways and ‘secret passageways’ in the damn place about a million times.
There really was no escaping her presence once she got in with his buddies- Hermione, Ron, Harry, Luna, and even Neville, his best friend, for Godrick’s sake. Anyway, if you couldn't have guessed already, whoever made that very seductive cherry pie in his oddly pleasant future, well, it was Annie Minks.