To say that Percy was in a mood would be an understatement. Bludger had shat on one of his favorite books, which looked nothing at all like the little clutch of papers usually utilized for the creature for just such a purpose and in his cage nonetheless, and now Oliver appeared to have gone for a swim in the Thames.
"Your, your bird," he began, his ire and his nostrils flaring at the smell, which derailed his rant entirely from the animal who could hardly be numbered among the same species as the sedate Hermes. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Oliver."
Percy just barely resisted the urge to blast him dry with his wand, whipping a cupboard open and tossing a towel in Oliver's direction, instead.