Bloody Awkward

Oliver shifted uncomfortably in his seat in the Black family library. Although the house had been scrubbed to an almost blinding shine and most of the dark objects removed, it still had a darkness that lingered in the atmosphere. Even the most hardened among them avoided being alone in the secluded corners of the Ancient and Noble House of Black in the dead of night. The evil was almost palatable and seemed to seep from the very cornerstones of the house. In fact that could very well be the case, he thought idly as he played with the fringe a throw pillows on the faded sofa.

He joined, or rather was recruited into, the Order of the Phoenix shortly after the 'Battle of Mysteries' as it had been proclaimed in the Daily Prophet. Oliver had been appalled with the Ministry's response, or lack thereof. They had sent our pamphlets! Voldemort had returned and the Ministry of Magic sent bloody pamphlets informing the wizarding world of what to do in case of a death eater attack. The stupid things even had a picture of a death eater on them in case someone wasn't sure. They weren't even useful pamphlets. They pretty much said RUN and then find an auror. Yeah, glad they clarified that in case someone wasn't sure what to do when a bloody dark wizard in a silver mask tries to Avada you. Oliver personal felt you should ask them to tea, but now he knew better. Glad the Ministry could clarify for him. Wankers.

He had been somewhat surprised when Dumbledore appeared on his back patio. First off because he had somehow bypassed Oliver's rather impressive wards that staved off over zealous fangirls. It was an inevitable side effect of playing profession quidditch for Puddlemere. The wards had become a necessity. After getting out of the shower one morning he had walked into his bedroom to find a very naked girl that he never seen before in his bed claiming that they were in love. She made Lovegood look psychological sound. Tonks still laughed about being the aurora on duty for that call. Oliver failed to see the humor, but then again he was the one on the roof trying to keep the naked woman away from with a large stick wearing nothing but a towel. Yeah, he had spent a mint on wards that afternoon. He had also become a master at glamour charms so he could bloody well go to the market or pub without being mobbed. So, it was a bit of a shock to see Dumbledore casually admiring the rose garden when he came out to watch the sun rise and enjoy his morning cup of Earl Grey.

After Dumbledore had explained his purpose Oliver had quickly agreed to join the Order. (He also went to the goblins later that morning. His house was now Fidelus protected with a goblin as the secret keeper and completely unplottable. No one could get in or out without Oliver's express permission. The old man had tried to apparate in a few weeks later and ended up on his arse in the creek across the way. Bloody hilarious that.)

Oliver's primary mission was quite simple. International intelligence. When he was on the road with his team he would subtly gather information about Voldemort's movements on the Continent. He would also pass along messages from Dumbledore, well Kingsley since Dumbledore's death, to Order sympathizers and vice versa. In the scheme of the war his mission was very low risk, but vital. His only real sacrifice was maintaining the arrogant quidditch star façade. That had been especially difficult after the ministry had fallen. In order to keep a semblance of normalcy they had keep the quidditch leagues, albeit sans the muggleborns. It was a farce he well knew, but a farce that everyone maintained. Those that didn't disappeared. Some teams had called up nearly their entire reserve to fill the vacant slots left by the banished and the hunted. Puddlemere felt no satisfaction winning the National Cup that season.

Compared to the other order members his sacrifice seemed nominal at best. Zabini had become a low-level death eater in order to spy on his former housemates. It was dangerous to say the least. When he came to meeting his gaze was haunted and they all knew he had seen unspeakable things. Fortunately, his actual 'job', if you could call it that, was administrative and coordination of raids. The information he gave them was priceless, unfortunately Zabini was the one that often paid for it. Padma bloody married Theo Nott to serve as a liaison for the spies inside the death eater ranks and keep an eye on the overall movements of Dark Lord. They were already betrothed, so she didn't have much choice, but still to be that close to a death eater… It turned out that Theo, like many of the younger death eaters, only served out of fear. Voltdemort had threatened their families, so their options were limited. Some, like Zabini had turned to the Order, lot of good it did him. Others, like Theo, tighten their bootlaces and did what they had to do to survive. Oliver didn't really begrudge the younger man for protecting his family, but if Theo threw a hex his way on the battlefield all bets were off. After all, Oliver had people to protect too. The Golden Trio had it perhaps the hardest. They were gone for damn near a year looking for and destroying the Horcruxes. Lestrange and Malfoy had tortured Mione within an inch of her life and after Goyle found her parents outside of Perth he had sent them to her in pieces. Thinking about it still made Oliver sick and that had been nearly two years ago. Pretending to be an unattached narcissistic git seemed small in comparison.

But now, five years after he had joined, the war was nearing an end. All the Horcrux had been destroyed besides the one in Harry's head, which had been the conundrum. How do you destroy the soul fragment without killing Harry? Harry, being Harry, had said to just go ahead and kill him. Interesting watching someone argue the pros of having himself offed. But after Lupin had pointed out that they actually needed him alive to kill old Voldy once the soul was destroyed he begrudgingly conceded. Funny that. He should have been elated to lose that argument.

Dumbledore said Love would save them all, so they had researched, and by 'they' he meant Mione, Lupin, and, funnily enough, the twins. Those two were wicked clever when they put their minds to it. For two years they had scoured every text known to wizarding Britain. He had actually brought many from their supporters on the Continent as well, but it wasn't enough. They needed access to the world libraries. That was when Oliver fell madly in love with 'Jane Jurubah', a mysterious Croatian potions mistress he met while on vacation in Morocco, and demanded that she travel with him on all his abroad tours. Or at least that's what the public believed. It was a ruse of course. 'Jane' was a glamoured Hermione Granger. In order to 'kill time' while dutifully waiting for Oliver to finish his practices 'Jane' would visit the local libraries. It was the perfect cover.

Mione didn't actually need that much glamour. Her classmates of four years ago would be hard pressed to recognize her even without the subtle darkening to her hair and eye color to match her supposed eastern European heritage. In a fit of frustration over Ginny and Lavender's constant nagging, she found a permanent hair spell to tame her busy curls into gentle waves that fell down to her waist. Years of physical training and outdoor missions had left body tan, toned, and agile. Perhaps the most palatable change however was her magical shift. Her magic had always been… ah…intense, but when she reached the age of majority people could literally feel the waves of it pulsing off of her. Intimidating didn't even begin to cover it. Her magic also had a subtle darkness about it now. Mione was not a dark witch by any stretch of the imagination, but after years of pouring over dark tomes to find a way to rid the world of You-Know-Who, it began to taint her magical signature. In a lot of ways this proved to be a very useful. Her aura had been so light before that it was easily recognizable to anyone that had ever met her. It was like standing next to the bloody sun. Bright, light, and powerful. No amount of glamour could have covered that, so the tinge of darkness served as an added protection to keep her true identity from being discovered. Now, he would liken her more to the moon. An elusive light embedded in darkness. Subtle but intense power, like the moon with the tide. Now he sounded like a fucking poet. Great.

But he knew Mione's trips with him to those libraries were what brought him to the Black Family Library tonight, along with ever other high-level member of the Order under the age of thirty. When they were is Alexandria she had found something, Oliver was sure of it. She wouldn't tell him what it was or even if she had found something, but he could see the excitement in her eyes when she had brought that ancient Egyptian tome she had 'borrowed' from the Library of the Sun (she swore she would return them all after the war was over) back to their room. She hadn't even stayed for the rest of his tour. She had returned to Grimmauld Place the next morning muttering about needing to speak with Remus about translating Sumerian. That had been two weeks ago.

Her abrupt departure had caused quite a stir among the tabloids. 'Jane' had scarcely left his side since they had 'gotten together' a year ago. They lived together, they travelled together, they bloody held hands when they walked in the park. Her leaving in the middle of a tour without warning was big new for the gossipmongers. Some, mostly hopeful fangirls, speculated that they were calling it quits, others believed that she had caught him cheating, but would inevitable take back the handsome keeper because anyone could see they were 'fated' to be together. The most recent reports said that he had knocked her up and proposed, but was uncomfortable with her travelling so much in her delicate condition. The prospect of Puddlemere's golden boy settling down and starting a family had won him serious brownie points among the masses to say the least. To the fangirls he was prince charming sweeping a Cinderella off her feet, to the housewives he was a responsible young gentleman and making her an honest woman, and to the men he bloody landed one of the hottest birds they'd ever seen and somehow managed to keep her. His effing fanmail, which was pretty substantial to begin with, had quadrupled. Some of his teammates were even quoted saying that his upcoming fatherhood and nuptials were most likely the case. That one gave him pause. He would need to think more on it later. Now however, he, and everyone else sat awkwardly in the library waiting for Remus, Mione, and the twins.

Lavender Brown and the Patil twins sat in the corner where the occasional whisper and giggle could be heard as they shoot not so subtle glances his way. Years ago it would have annoyed him, but now they had all learned to take laughter where they could find it. Besides it was obvious watching Padma interact with her friends and sister that this was one place she truly felt at peace and had some sense of normalcy. Dark circles surrounded her eyes and her normally olive skin looked a sickly yellow. She bloody lived with a death eater and harbored Order spies in her home. Talk about stressed. If she needed to gossip and giggle, then let her. Lavender and Pavarti were perhaps the most surprising among the group. On the outside the two Witches Weekly reporters seemed flighty and superficial, but they served as the Order's best source of information within England. It was amazing what people let slip at a party in the company of a pretty girl they didn't view as a threat after a few drinks, which may or may not have been laced with veritaserum. Oliver knew better. Their web had caught many a fly. Lavender and Pavarti were brilliant, calculating, and ruthless in getting the information they needed. They came up with the wickedly clever plan to have his girlfriend 'Jane' travel with him and made sure the public was swayed in his favor. In fact they probably had something to do with the latest rash of rumors regarding 'Jane's' delicate condition and his upcoming nuptials. Clever that. Thank Merlin they're on our side. They should have been sorted into Slytherin.

Neville was talking with the Greengrass sisters on the couch opposite Oliver. The boy had some scary looking potted plant tucked under his arm and was gesturing wildly causing bits of dirt to fly at the girls. Daphne (aka Icequeen) keep sending him snide looks and brushing at her arms, but her sister Astoria just chuckled and slowly took the pot from a highly embarrassed Neville before setting it on the table. Both Greengrass girls completed healer training right out of Hogwarts and Neville was well on his way to becoming a Master in Herbology. Needless to say they operated as the Order Healers and trained and organized a small contingent of mediwitches that cared for the fallen after battles. Dean Thomas, Michael Corner, and Viktor Krum stood off to the side looking a bit worse for the ware and speaking in hushed tones. They were in charge of reconnaissance and Special Ops. Hushed tones had become the norm for them even among friends. That lot made Madeye seem laid back. On the left side near the windows, Zabini stared blankly at the far wall, which happened to be a bookshelf. If it wasn't for the slightly blank look in his eye one might think he was reading the titles. Gone was the self-assured slightly arrogant man that had joined the Order three years ago. Zabini was a shadow of his former self, but still he fought. Oliver had often wondered what motivated the Italian to stay, but never questioned the unwavering loyalty he had shown since joining the Order. Luna sat quietly next to him with a dreamy expression on her face. Every now and then she would shift her gaze as if watching something above them move. He had long since stopped trying to figure out what she was looking at. Ignorance was sometimes better when it came to Luna.

Draco Malfoy sat on Zabini's other side glaring menacingly at Harry Potter. After refusing to kill Dumbledore, Draco had nowhere to turn except the Order. He had no money, no influence, and was a wanted man by both the puppet Ministry and the death eaters. He did, however, have a wealth of information, so the Order reluctantly accepted him into its ranks. He was a warrior for lack of a better word. The man could fight better than any of them save Harry. It had taken years, but he had slowly earned their trust. That didn't make him any less of an arrogant prat, but he was their arrogant prat. Harry and Ron were playing a half-hearted game of Wizarding Chess while Ginny and Seamus watched on with even less interest. Ginny was all but sitting in Harry's lap, but keep chancing quick glances at Malfoy, who was far too busy glowering at Harry to notice or care, whatever that case may be. Interesting. Harry looked calm, but the slight wringing of his hands and fleeting glances toward the door gave his nervousness away. Oliver had always had somewhat of a soft spot for Harry, not that he would ever admit it, after all he was a bloke. But the memory of the scrawny first year that looked on in awe as he explained the basics of quidditch...Oliver smiled fondly at the memory. The utter excitement in the younger boys eyes when Oliver explained what he had to do. Oliver couldn't NOT like someone who obviously loved his favorite sport so much.

"Oi, Wood what's gotcha smiling like a loon," said Seamus with a slight smirk. Oliver smiled in return. Seamus had a way of lightening the mood in even the dreariest of times. The boy was terribly accident-prone and was forbidden from coming within 30 feet of Mione's 'precious potions lab'. "Probably one of his fangirls," Ron said and gave him a wolfish smile. Oliver grunted in response and scowled at the red head. Maybe he could hate someone who loved quidditch. He managed to dislike the youngest Wesley boy just fine. When they first announced that Hermione would start travelling with him the red headed wonder had nearly had kittens. Going on and on about Oliver being a manwhore only trying to get in her knickers. Oh, if only Weseley knew, he thought with a smirk.

Angelina and Katie Wesley had yet to arrive, but he imagined that they would come with the twins. In addition to their research, the Fred and George and their wives developed armor and weapons under the guise of Wesley Wizarding Wheezes. The arsenal of wizarding and muggle weaponry that was now in the hands of the Order was almost disturbing or at least it would have been had it not been so necessary.

Some people were painfully absent. The Creevy brothers had been missing for over a year. They had gone to meet a contact outside of Brighton and never returned. The contact had also mysteriously disappeared. Terry Boot had died in an ambush on a routine surveillance mission. Ten death eaters had apparated into the small warehouse near the ministry that the Order often used to track the comings and goings of the officials. Terry never stood a chance, but refused to be taken alive. He knew something's were worse than death. He had killed three death eaters and permanently maimed two before they got him. Susan Bones turned out to be a spy for the dark. She was supposed to have been Terry's partner during his surveillance mission. She had claimed to be off getting tea when the death eaters arrived. Convenient. After days of debate, Kingsley had bound her magic, snapped her wand, oblivated her memory of the wizarding world, and sent her to live among the muggles. Some thought her punishment too harsh, some too lenient, Oliver was undecided either way.

Percy Wesley and Alicia Spinnet had both been captured during an internal sweep of the Ministry. They had been serving as sources on the inside and one of their contacts had used the pair as a bargaining chip to save himself. Percy was tortured for days and after refusing to divulge any information was tried as a traitor and hung in the middle of Diagon Alley. He was almost unrecognizable when they lead him the platform. His face was beaten and bloody and he was missing several fingers and toes. When they went to pull the lever to release the trapdoor, he had let out a satisfied sigh and bloody smiled. He died for a cause he believed in and had not given up his friends and family. He was a hero. Molly had wept for days. Alicia had given in before they even touched her. She gave them everything. Names, dates, contacts, anything she could think of. Fortunately, she did not know too much damaging information, but the betrayal had stung and caused a sense of wariness and mistrust among the Order ranks. Alicia met the same fate as Percy for her efforts. No one wept.

The doors to the library opened startling Oliver out of his thought. Remus came in escorting an aged witch to a chair at the front of the room whose dress and dark skin made her look distinctly foreign. The twins, Katie, and a very pregnant Angelina followed closely behind. Fred surveyed the room quickly and looked meaningfully at Ron who was taking up almost an entire sofa by himself. Ron looked blankly back. Git. Oliver stood and motioned for Fred, who gave him a grateful smile, as he awkwardly settled Angelina on to the sofa. He may be a tad obsessed with quidditch, but Oliver's mum had taught him manners and giving up your chair to a pregnant woman fell under the very basics. He glanced back at the doors hopefully. No Hermione. He frowned. This was the longest he had been away from her for over a year and frankly it made him anxious.

Remus cleared his throat and everyone settled in before turning to him expectantly. He looked uncomfortable. VERY uncomfortable. This couldn't be good.

"As all of you know we have been working on a way to get rid of the soul fragment in Harry's head without physically harming him." Harry mumbled something and grunted, but otherwise said nothing. That was one bloke Oliver would never understand. He shook his head and refocused on Remus. "We think we may have found the key." Remus hesitated and shifted uncomfortable as everyone stared at him expectantly. Nope, definitely not good.

"Er…ye see…what we need is…um we need to make a potion, but the thing is…" Remus trailed and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. The Weseley twin looked at each other and stood.

"Damn Remus." Said Fred, or George.

"Glad you cleared that up." The other finished. Once they were separated from their wives it was still impossible to tell them apart and Oliver had his doubts that even that worked 100% of the time. After all Fred and George were known to be a tad wild and Katie and Angelina weren't exactly on the list awaiting sainthood either. He had heard his fair share of lockeroom stories from the twins when they all played for Griffyndor and lets just say the twins were willing to share everything.

Fred and George smirked at each other and then surveyed the room before continuing. "You see the thing is my dear comrades,"

"We find ourselves in need of a couple of volunteers." Every spine in the room stiffened. Volunteer duty was dangerous. Volunteers seldom came back alive.

"But not just any old volunteers will do. Isn't that right Forge."

"Righty-O Gred, Righty-O. We need our volunteers to be as compatible as possible and if at all possible virgins."

"But not just any run-of-the-mill virgin, no. That would be far too easy. We need a powerful virgin who has already reached the age of majority." Well this is going to be awkward.

"So, all those who meet that criterion if you could please just come up here." There was a pregnant pause. No one moved for a moment, and then everyone's eyes began to shift around the room. Slowly everyone settled on Neville, who upon realizing everyone was staring at him, looked pointedly at his plant and shrugged.

"Sorry, mates. Can't help in that department." Neville tried to say as casually as possible, but even as he spoke his face started flaming red.

"Well, not everyone's here yet, yeah?" Ron piped in glancing back at the door. "I'm sure that someone," he chuckled and meaningfully jabbed Harry in the side with his elbow, "still meets that criterion." Snickering erupted around the room. Yep, this was going to be awkward as hell.

"To true Ronniekins, to true, but just in case," The twin slyly shot Oliver a mischievous look.

"Let's go ahead and talk about plan B." The second twin finished and sent Oliver a subtle wink. Well damn. Either he wasn't as stealthy as he had thought or the twins were more perceptive than he gave them credit for. It was probably a little of both if he was honest with himself.

"Aye, so what tis plan B, then aye?" Seamus asked with his almost indistinguishable Irish brogue. Oliver was bloody Scottish and he couldn't understand him half of the time.

Remus seemed to have regained himself and took charge. "As Fred said, what we really need is two people that are highly compatible, but really it's even more than that. We need two people whose souls are compatible. Soulmates would be ideal, but finding a pair is highly unlikely. Further, we need a couple who has not yet reproduced, hence why we gathered you all as opposed to the older order members."

"So, vhy did you vant someone that vas untouched." Krum's deep voice filtered through the room. The quiet Bulgarian rarely spoke, but when he did his voiced always carried an air of authority that Oliver could not help but begrudgingly respect. Plus Krum was a damn fine seeker. Under different circumstances Oliver might have even liked the bloke, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Great question. Well ya see…" Remus was uncomfortable again. The twins let out an exaggerated sigh simultaneously.

"When ya fuck someone you give them part of your soul." George (or Fred) said bluntly.

"The fewer ya fucked the more complete your soul is. So, a virgin's soul is still completely intact." The other continued.

Remus scrubbed his hands over his face, but ignored their vulgar synopsis. "That's why true soulmates are so rare. They can only have been with each other." Remus took in everyone expressions carefully before continuing. "Next to a virgin, the best option is to see which souls are most compatible …" He raised his hand to the roar of protests that erupted. "It's not what you think. Compatibility is determined when you first, er, make love to someone, so any subsequent… partners, shouldn't affect it, so…"

"What Remus is trying to say is we test you with whoever took your V-card." One of the twins continued.

"And whichever lucky couple is the most compatible gets to help us with our potion." The other twin continued as if it was the best prize in England.

"So, who's first?" Asked Fred with a wide mischievous smile. The twins lived for moments like this. Everyone shifted uncomfortably. This was going to be really bloody awkward, and Oliver knew awkward. He had spent the last three years showering daily with six guys and one girl, who insisted that despite the fact that her wand was inverted (her words, not his) she had just as much right to shower with her team as any other bloke. After the first round of hexes no one bothered to point out that she wasn't in fact a bloke. However, he was pretty sure his current situation beat even that in awkwardness. He glanced at the door again. Still not Mione. Maybe the gods were on his side tonight.

Surprisingly, Neville spoke up first. "Alright, come on Tori. We're betrothed anyway, so it's not too scandalous." He muttered as he pulled a red-faced Astoria Greengrass to the front of the room. Oliver almost chuckled at the looks on everyone's faces. They ranged from shocked to impressed. The Greengrass girls were gorgeous and brilliant. No doubt Neville earned a great deal of respect from just about every bloke in the room. "Right, then. What now?" It seemed that his bravado had faded and Neville's constant nervousness began to seep through. Astoria rubbed his arm reassuringly and he gave a thankful smile.

Remus cleared his throat. "Right. Just hold hands while Madam Vasilicy casts the spell. Scores range from 0 to 100. The higher the better. Okay, ready?" Neville looked at Astoria, who nodded.

Remus turned to the older witch who did several complex wand movements and then whispered Felix Lucian in an aged gravelly voice. A rosy beam shot from her wand and wound itself playfully around their intertwined hands. Neville chuckled and the normally serious Astoria let out an uncharacteristic giggle as the magic twirled around them. Finally it started glowing a vibrant red and the number 82 appeared above their heads. The witch said something to Remus in a language Oliver didn't recognize before turning back to the couple.

"Is good match." Madam Vasilicy said in broken, but clear English.

Remus seemed to see the confusion on the couple's faces because he quickly clarified. "Madam Vasilicy is a Sumerian Matchmaker, one of the few of her kind left. She arranges compatible marriages for witches and wizards all over the world and is highly sought after by the most wealthy families in Europe for her services."

"Er, so an 82 is good then?" Neville asked quietly, his eyes never leaving Astoria's.

Madam Vasilicy patted Neville's arm affectionately. "You live happy. Makes lots of babies." After blushing 10 shades of red, Neville nodded with a shy smile and led Astoria back to their seats never relinquishing her hand. Maybe some good would come out of this.

George let out a feint sigh. "Ah, young love. Whose next?" He said scanning the room. Several people returned it with a pointed look to which both he and Fred shrugged and said "Madam Rosemeta" at the same time. Right then.

Harry sighed and stood while holding out his hand to Ginny. "Come on Gin, let's get this over with." Ginny didn't move but instead looked pointedly at the floor. Uh oh. That couldn't be good. Harry looked back at Ginny. "Gin?" He whispered urgently. Nope, still no response. Harry was getting ready to start on a full tirade when Dean stepped forward.

"Well ya see Harry, Gin and I, well, we dated for a while…" Dean trailed off and for a second it looked like Harry was going to hit him, but abruptly turned back to Ginny, who was studying the faded green carpet. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Michael interrupted indignantly before he got the chance.

"Wait one bloody minute! Ginny and I dated for a bloody year before you two got together, Thomas. Come on Gin." Michael gritted out and held out his hand for Ginny. Dean looked dumbstruck and Harry looked downright murderous. Ginny still was studying the floor refusing to look at any of the men, when a fourth voice came quietly from the corner.

"I knew this would bite us in the ass someday, Red. Come on. " A pale hand reached past the other three men who looked like someone had cast the petritous totals on them. Ginny, still never taking her eyes off the floor, allowed Draco Malfoy to lead her over to Madam Vasilicy. After another round of wand movements the number 87 appeared above them. Draco nodded as if this was expected and Ginny finally looked up at him with what could only be described as hope in her eyes. He whispered something in her ear to which she nodded and he led her back to the spot he had previously been occupying next to Zabini. Thomas, and Corner were both standing with gobsmacked expressions on their face and Harry looked like he was about to have an aneurism. He opened his mouth then shut it again and then finally appeared to literally bit his tongue before returning to his previous seat next to Ron. Ron, on the other hand, did not look even close to letting this go and stood quickly looking like he was itching for a duel. Malfoy stood too and shoved Ginny behind his body.

A loud bang rung through the room as Fred sent sparks in the air with his wand. "Perhaps you could sort all of that out amongst yourselves later."

That was the precise moment when Mione entered the room with an apologetic smile. "Sorry I'm late, what did I.." She trailed off as she took in the hostile state on the room "…miss? "

A/N: If there is interest I will keep going. Let me know what you think.