Prompt: Oliver/Percy + Aspiration
Aspiration is, as defined by the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the strong desire to achieve something great. Aspirations are many things for many people, but for Oliver Wood, this was to become a star Quidditch player and to go down in the annals of history as the best Quidditch player, and for Percy Weasley, it was to become Minister of Magic.
The first time Oliver shared this aspiration with his dorm-mate Percy, Percy had snorted derisively and told him it was silly. They were boys then, just twelve years old, and Oliver didn't take Percy's scorn seriously. In turn, when Percy shared his own aspiration, Oliver rolled his eyes and told him his dream was boring. Percy didn't take it to heart either. The nonchalance would not last, but for a time they sailed in smooth seas.
It was fourth year when the two friends first fought over their ambitions.
"Don't you want satisfaction from life?" Percy had asked, his voice hoarse with strain of keeping from yelling.
"I do," Oliver had angrily responded. "And satisfaction for me comes from Quidditch."
The bookworm shook his head. "Then you're a blindly happy idiot. Are you sure you weren't meant for Hufflepuff?"
"And you're blinded by ambition. Sure you weren't meant for Slytherin?" the Keeper had quipped back.
The two stormed away in opposite directions, sullen frowns and furious glares on their faces.
They patched up their relationship of course; the two eccentric boys were close friends that refused to be torn apart. Still, the cracks were there.
Aspirations became a taboo subject between them after a few more fights; it was clear they couldn't see eye to eye on the subject and both refused to change their mind. It was admirable that they set aside their differences for the sake of their friendship, but the elephant would always be there.
They're relationship progressed past the bounds of friendship the following year, lead on by a nervous Keeper slipping into the bed of his close friend long after lights-out and placing a fumbling kiss on his lips.
They didn't make a big deal of it. To the rest of Gryffindor they were still close friends with glaring differences; even Percy's family did not know – not his mother Molly in all her hawk-eyed glory nor his youngest brother Ron and his quite famous friend Harry Potter. When their shoulders touched as they studiously poured over a book, it was because they were close not because they were lovers. When Oliver rested his head in Percy's lap as they sat in front of the roaring common-room fire, it was because they were friends not boyfriends. At least, that was what Hogwarts thought.
But crops do not flourish when there are pests in the soil, just as relationships do not thrive when there are things unsaid, especially regarding the future. This was true even for Percy and Oliver, especially for them.
It was a quiet night in their sixth year, their roommates were elsewhere, the dorm-room left to them, when Oliver broached the subject.
It did not end well. Shouting, things thrown, feelings wounded – that was how it ended. Not their relationship mind you, just the argument.
It took a week for the bad blood to let and the two to speak. Their tight smiles didn't reach their eyes and late that night, after they had both agreed to live and let live and crawled into bed, they faced away from one another and tightly gripped their pillows with white knuckles.
Those fake smiles and distant touches lasted a year, a year in which the tried to fix the cracks without pouring the cement. Unlike their fights about their aspirations, about their dreams and hopes and the future, which were explosive, their end was somber, quiet.
"I don't think this is working," said Oliver, finally being the Gryffindor and bravely saying what they had both known.
"I agree," Percy responded, and that was that.
They drifted. Oliver, as he hoped, went on to play professional Quidditch. Percy, as he hoped, went on to work in the Ministry, right under the Minister just right out of school. They moved on, dated others, lived separate lives.
They reunited once, in the Great Hall of Hogwarts when the battle was done. Fred laid cold on the ground. Oliver had come to says his goodbyes to a close friend and old teammate. "I'm sorry," said Oliver, though for Fred or for their failed relationship, he didn't know. Percy solemnly thanked him.
They did not speak again.