Over the carpet, beneath the table, around a chair's leg--Mister Fluffle Whiskers scuttled along the floor. The stairs were always the most difficult obstacle in the wretched Slytherin common rooms... but Mister Fluffle Whiskers was always somehow able to get his fat rat's body over each poorly-lit step, and afterward, he was that much closer to his nightly destination.

Truth be told, he wouldn't have to do all of this if he had a different job. Fluffle Whiskers may have been a rat, but he liked to think he was a damn good one who deserved a little better than scavenger's duty. But our furry friend had to put these thoughts aside as he curled into the dormitory doorway, fifth from the left.

"You're late," Percivus sneered down at Fluffle Whiskers, and the only thing the poor rat could do was wrinkle his namesake. The boy had been writing on a piece of parchment. "What do you have? Ashwinder Eggs, I hope."

As Percivus leaned down to take the object from between the rat's tiny digits, Fluffle Whiskers thought about whether or not, one day, he would have to leave his current master. It simply wouldn't do, to check for any fallen homework ingredients in the classes after hours. That work was for mice, maybe,but certainly not an esteemed and professional rodent such as Fluffle Whiskers.

"Bullocks," Percivus sighed. "Ginger roots? That's it?"

It wasn't Fluffle Whiskers' fault that other students weren't as clumsy as the young Slytherin first year assumed.

"You're useless. I have to see Laura, tomorrow, and where am I going to get us the Ashwinder eggs for our arrangement? I suppose you expect me to ask Shea for the ingredients, again. Do you think I like depending on other students for my classwork, Mister Whiskers?" The skinny red-haired boy asked coolly, giving the rat a slow stare with his big, but dark eyes.

Fluffle Whiskers looked up and wiggled his tail.

"That's right, Mister Whiskers. I don't. Now go on. I've left you a snack by your spot."

As the rat scampered to his corner to devour the bugs, he could vaguely hear his Slytherin master mumble a thanks to God--something about not putting one's eggs entirely in one basket. Enjoying his meal, Fluffle Whiskers gained an abstract sense of rodent amusement, watching the young Wizard pace left and right across the bedroom. Judging by the look on the boy's face, the reluctant Mister Whiskers knew that tonight wouldn't be the last night that he would have to listen to such anxieties.

_________________
Percy Wakefield - Slytherin.
"Vi veri veniversum vivus vici."
- Faust.

The slightly confused Fluffle Whiskers watched from the corner of the girl's bathroom. The humongous mountain troll had been frozen still by a desperately placed spell. Percivus, disheveled and dirty, pointed his wand at the ugly thing and hissed out "Sting!" but the spell had meaningless effect.

The stressed fledgling Wizard mumbled something about having little time left. He climbed up the troll's lumpy back, laced a hangman's rope around its neck, and held on tightly. Then, he let his entire weight fall.

The boy gripped the rope and dangled left and right for extra pressure. His body was too small to make the troll fall down outright, but each consecutive swing was just enough to tighten the rope and slowly choke the helpless paralyzed creature.

When the deed was done, he dropped to the floor. He searched the troll's bag, then threw it aside. He checked its hands and found a ring. He showed it to Fluffle Whiskers and murmured, tired and annoyed: "This is what I wanted."

_________________
Percy Wakefield - Slytherin.
"Vi veri veniversum vivus vici."
- Faust.

"Priggo's ploy has a chance to prove much more beneficial than what a cursory glance reveals," Percy said. Fluffle Whiskers, contently surrounded by his stash of scavenged candy, was sitting on a blue pillow in his comfortable straw-woven bed-basket.

"It will infuriate the so called Slytherin Siren Seven. And then..." Percy continued, elaborating on a hidden detail in some abstract plan that Mister Fluffle Whiskers didn't really care that much for. Now, the taste of strawberry sugar and marmalade lollipops, on the other hand...

"It will serve as adequate bait. The odds of success are fringy at best, but..."

... Fluffle Whiskers wished he had some licorice. Black licorice. Or red. Preferably black... but then again, maybe red...

"If successful, it will impress my Slytherin peers, guaranteed. If not, then at the very least, it will provide us with another sample. What do you think, Fluffle Whiskers?" Percy queried.

Definitely black. The rat nodded once, firmly.

"Agreed." Percy grinned briefly, and then moved towards the dormitory room door.

Fluffle Whiskers popped another candy into his mouth.

_________________
Percy Wakefield - Slytherin.
"Vi veri veniversum vivus vici."
- Faust.

Mr. Fluffle Whiskers sniffed at the curious little black creature behind the jar glass. A beetle, he knew it was called.

"This is important. Look at me!" Percivus snapped at the rat.

Fluffle Whiskers whirled towards his student keeper.

Percivus glared, smoothed back his red hair with both hands, and then let them drop down to his sides. After a while, the young redhead began to pace... and speak.

"There's something of a student civil war going on at Hogwarts, Fluffle Whiskers. We underestimated how many students read, and indeed care - positively or negatively - about what the Slytherin Siren Seven have to say," he laughed a bit. "Externalities...

"This would have been much easier were it a covert, quiet war... not this graceless, pettily violent... never mind. No matter. We have two courses of action now. There's always a back up plan."

Fluffle Whiskers watched Percy hop into bed and stare at the ceiling restlessly.

There was a long pause, which Fluffle Whiskers used to turn around and poke at the enclosed jar containing his new beetle friend. Poke poke poke. Wait. Why wasn't the beetle moving? Poke poke poke. Fluffle Whiskers quickly scampered up to the bed, and started tugging on his master's pant-leg. He could help!

Percivus looked down at the rat, then suddenly smirked wryly. "You're right, Fluffle Whiskers." He sat up.

"You're absolutely right. I can't let these events frustrate me. This thing is meant to be an amusement - a distraction. I shouldn't lose any sleep over it." Percy pat-patted the rat's head, edged over to his night-table, and turned off the light.

But... what about the beetle friend? Fluffle Whiskers blinked his eyes in confusion.

_________________
Percy Wakefield - Slytherin.
"Vi veri veniversum vivus vici."
- Faust.

Fluffle Whiskers nibbled on a piece of pink candy. Delicious! It tasted of cotton sugar and mint. Enraptured in its sublime taste, the rat hardly noticed the blond girl that stood a few yards away behind an easel, or the conversation she had with Percy.

"Done!" she exclaimed proudly.

When Percy walked over, Fluffle Whiskers glanced at the image she had painted.



[OOC: Thanks to Vinter for painting this from scratch!]

_________________
Percy Wakefield - Slytherin.
"Vi veri veniversum vivus vici."
- Faust.

Fluffle Whiskers was quite the upset rat. He worked all hours of the day, being the best rat he could, and had to come home to this. A plate with a few bugs in it for supper. Not candy, to which he had grown accustomed to these past few days, but ordinary bugs. This insult, quite simply, couldn't stand.

He hopped up from his pillow and went to inform Percivus of the atrocity... but when the rat tugged at the young Wizard's robes, all Percy did was steeple his fingers and look at the mirror, as he had been doing for the past few minutes.

"I've cornered them, Fluffle Whiskers," he said through a victorious smirk. "They can either respond and debate my accusations, or remain silent and have their reputation amongst their Slytherin peers ruined. That is, if they can see the message at all. If they don't respond, then we can logically deduce that they are not, in fact, Slytherins."

That was all well and good, but Fluffle Whiskers wanted some chocolate fro--

--Percivus grabbed the rat, firmly, and brought him near to exchange glances of eyes.

"It's the first step," the mage grinned. "Do you see? They must respond, if they are Slytherins. And if they don't, then we will repeat the process in the other house commons, systematically. We have friends in each. It's very doable." Percivus laughed. "All we have to do is keep our posters in private house commons to narrow our suspects down. And if they don't respond in any, which is highly unrealistic, then we can wreck their reputation and they will be defenseless."

Fluffle Whiskers sighed, and let his ears droop downward. All he wanted was some chocolate. Was that so much to ask?

_________________
Percy Wakefield - Slytherin.
"Vi veri veniversum vivus vici."
- Faust.

Percivus Wakefield, age 14, beneath the arched ceiling of his Slytherin single's dormitory, sat in the throne-like couch. With one leg crossed over the other, the redheaded boy clasped his palms together, and touched the tips of his fingers against his chin and nose. In the far left corner of the room, a vinyl record player emitted a type of sound that Fluffle Whiskers could not quite put his tail on. Percy closed his eyes... and smiled.



All this, the rat took in with a glance.

_________________
Percy Wakefield - Slytherin.
"Vi veri veniversum vivus vici."
- Faust.

Fluffle Whiskers stared. Percivus stared back.

Fluffle Whiskers wondered how long this situation would continue.

Fluffle Whiskers sat on his fat rat's hide in one corner of the room. Percivus sat on his disheveled uniform pants in the other corner of the room.

Fluffle Whiskers wondered how long this situation would continue.

"What do you think, Fluffle Whiskers?" Percy asked.

About what, again?

Fluffle Whiskers didn't reply, because he rarely thought at all, and when he did, he sometimes stumbled across the same thought multiple times. He much preferred to observe and draw conclusions based on the present, not the past. He was, after all, a rat. And, currently, he made no mistake in thinking otherwise--because he rarely thought at all.

"My sentiments exactly," Percy said. He then got up and adjusted his frazzled clothing, from the wrinkly tie to his rolled sleeves. Then, the young Slytherin boy looked at himself in the mirror. Fluffle Whiskers looked too.

The rat saw that Percy's red hair was shaggy. His eyes had creases beneath them. His nose was a bit crooked, and his lips were too. He was a bit too thin and wiry to be considered well built by that builder of humans, whoever he or she was. Assessing Percy's overall person, Fluffle Whiskers concluded that the boy was not very good looking--if rats could be reliable judges on that matter.

"...hardly matters," Percy said. Perhaps, for once, in response to the rat's thoughts? Percy grinned at the rat. Fluffle Whiskers wondered how long he would have to stay here, but then startled as Percy snagged the towel on the chair. He loosened his shirt buttons and made way out the door towards the showers.

Finally, thought Fluffle Whiskers, who, dismissed, then scampered off to freely roam the halls on his own.

_________________
Percy Wakefield - Slytherin.
"Vi veri veniversum vivus vici."
- Faust.

Fluffle Whiskers stared at the large, erect serpent. The snake's dark eyes poured over the rat, who could not even cower, for he was frozen solid by fear. Perhaps, Mr. Whiskers concluded, he should not have ventured away from Percy after all. This new room was not even that interesting. A new pair of shoes that walked along the floor. Big deal. It was not worth the rat's livelihood.

Serendipity. Righteous debt. Camaraderie. Were Fluffle Whiskers more articulate, such words might have sprang to mind, when Shrill, Percy's companion's pet, by haphazard chance, knocked over the chair--somehow. Motivated by courage or foolishness (Fluffle Whiskers suspected the latter), the cat immediately starting to wrestle and war with the slithery predator. This junction allowed the rat to unfreeze and scamper off most hastily.

_________________
Percy Wakefield - Slytherin.
"Vi veri veniversum vivus vici."
- Faust.

Fluffle Whiskers wandered through the dungeon halls. He took a turn to the left, and then accidentally stumbled down into a pit. Within the pit, a zombie-like creature staggered around. Frightened, Fluffle Whiskers had no choice but to escape into a hole in the wall. The hole, however, was merely a small nook, and led no where. Thus, Fluffle Whiskers was forced to hide there for a very long while.

You may wonder why I have Fluffle Whiskers in such a stereotypical and boring position. The answer to that, dear reader, lays in the fact that the rat, our point of focus, can only serve our purposes so much, and for so long. For now, that time is up. So, then, allow me to guide you elsewhere.

Oh, you may also wonder about my casual shifts in tense. My answer to that is, quite simply, because I can. I'm the narrator. I can do as I please! Isn't that great? I think so, in any case. But right, I digress. Allow me to guide you elsewhere.

Beyond the rat's nook was, of course, the mummy and the pit. Beyond that was the dungeon hall, within which Professor Snape coolly berated a student. Past him and to the left were the Slytherin common doors. Through those were Necrolissica Crest, who read a book. There was also Allen Vought, whom plotted something for his own private plans. I, however, can't speak for these two--even so, that isn't my purpose.

Up the stairs, up into the boys' dormitories. I think you know where I'm bringing you. You're only half-right.

Room number 9, locked as usual, contains our destination. Behind its door, Percivus Wakefield paced back and forth, as he often did. Around him, papers of various classes, and portraits of a few students, lay sprawled about. We are not interested in such materials.

You may know Percivus Wakefield as a polite, curt, and mannered individual. You may know him as an arrogant, pretentious know-it-all. You may even know him as a snotty, spoiled brat. No matter how you know him, I know him better. And herein lays our destination. Go past his darkly eyes, past his tight-lipped smile, past his slightly crooked nose. Go past all of his physical self and into his mind.

Here, O privileged reader, I grant you so much more than the near-sighted views of a rat; here, my voyeur partner, you will find glimpses of Percivus Wakefield only I can (and will) grant you--glimpses from within.

Before that, though, I must break. The travel alone was enough for the both of us, I think. We've arrived. Soon enough, we will explore our destination. All in due time.

_________________
Percy Wakefield - Slytherin.
"Vi veri veniversum vivus vici."
- Faust.