The summer Bill came home with hair to his shoulders, Percy was made prefect. Percy’s hair was, as always, short and perfectly smooth, like it was afraid Percy would threaten it with nail clippers if it defied him.

Long, Bill’s hair curled and frizzed. Percy said he hated the the way it looked, but when Bill dragged it over Percy’s collarbones, he shivered and laughed at the same time.

The summer Bill came home with dragonhide boots, Percy was made Head Boy. He was already wearing his badge, pinned straight and sparkling on the front of his robe, and he raised a disapproving eyebrow at the boots. "Inappropriate for a Head Boy," he said.

"They’re not for you," Bill said, "and I’m not Head Boy anymore."

Percy didn’t like the boots, but when Bill made him try them on, his smile was like sunlight.

The summer Bill came home with the fang earring, Percy graduated.

He’d pierced his ear mostly to make Mum crazy, and also to hear what Percy’d have to say about it. But Percy didn’t say anything, just took Bill by the hand and led him to Percy’s room.

When the door was closed, he asked Bill to drag the fang across his skin. As he watched the marks appear, pale red on Percy’s white flesh, Bill wondered how so much could change so quickly.

Ficlet #2

Bill brought the fang home for Percy. Not expecting him to wear it, of course. That wouldn’t be Percy at all. No, Percy’d probably keep it on his desk in his room, picking it up occasionally to run the sharp end across his skin and hiding it the rest of the time beneath a pile of papers and books.

When he walked into Percy’s room, Percy looked at him, then reached up and gently pulled the little hook from the hole in Bill’s earlobe, as if he’d known what his brother was thinking. As if he knew it was for him.

At dinner, the earring was hanging from Bill’s ear again, and in his head was a memory of Percy’s hands, guiding Bill’s own to drag the sharp end of the fang over his pale skin.

END