Written for QLFC Round #10
Team: Wigtown Wanderers
Position: Beater 2
Prompt: 1950's: Mack the Knife — Bobby Darin
Additional Prompts: 4. (dialogue) "How could you possibly think that was a good idea?", 5. (quote) 'A lot of people I know believe in positive thinking, and so do I. I believe everything positively stinks.' — Lew Col, 9. (emotion) fear
Words: 2124
Thanks to Rose for betaing!
Oliver didn't like rumors. Having been the antisocial and overzealous Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team for three years now had familiarized him with them: rumors were malicious, pointless, false, and mean. He didn't listen to rumors or spread them—he'd never been severely harmed by them, but he knew what they could do to someone—and did his best to stop them if he heard them.
"It's not going to work," Percy told him one evening, in reply to Oliver's complaining about recent rumors surrounding Katie Bell.
"Why not?"
"Because people don't want them to stop. It doesn't matter if Katie has a secret boyfriend or not, people just want something to talk about."
"They can talk about Quidditch."
"Oliver." Percy paused and put down his quill, turning away from his homework to face him. "You're the only one in the school that's this excited about Quidditch. Of course it doesn't make sense to you that people have other interests, but students are gossips!"
"I don't like it," Oliver grumbled.
"It's human nature."
"I still don't like it." Oliver sighed. "And don't roll your eyes at me."
"I wasn't."
"But you were going to."
Percy shrugged and turned back to his work. Oliver took that as agreement, and went back to his own. Whatever Percy might say about gossiping being second-nature to people, he didn't think he'd ever understand it.
A while later, he heard Percy put his parchment away. Oliver wasn't anywhere near done with his own homework, but Percy was brilliant, so it wasn't an insult to his intellect, but a compliment to Percy's. It looked like Percy was getting ready to go somewhere, though, so Oliver frowned.
"Where're you off to?" he asked. "It's after curfew."
"I'm meeting Penny for corridor patrol," Percy said. "Inter-house cooperation and all that."
"Right."
Percy's ears flushed red. "And, well… she is my girlfriend."
"Right," Oliver said again. He swallowed. "Well… don't want to keep her waiting."
He looked away from Percy as he left the room, hoping his parting words hadn't been as mean as they'd sounded. They hadn't meant to be mean, because Oliver knew Penny—she was in their year—and she'd always been sweet to both him and Percy. Extra-sweet to Percy, it seemed.
Oliver went to sleep without completing the homework, a sour taste in his mouth, angry at Percy for not telling him about dating Penny, angry at himself for not noticing and for being so short with Percy about it.
.oOo.
"How was it?" Oliver asked Percy at breakfast the next morning, passing him a plate of toast. "With Penny?"
"Fine, I guess." Percy shrugged. "I thought you were against rumors?"
"I am, but this isn't rumors," he protested. "It's small talk."
"To us, yeah." Percy surreptitiously nodded at all the people around them at the table. "But it's prime entertainment to them."
Oliver made a face. "Right." He glared at the curious group of sixth years that were looking at them. "Mind your own business."
Percy took a sip of his orange juice and raised an eyebrow. "What's got you so tetchy?"
"Nothing."
"Alright."
Oliver watched him sullenly for the rest of breakfast, wanting to say something but not knowing what. He'd never had that problem before—if nothing else, they could talk about Quidditch. But the thought of talking felt wrong, somehow.
"Are you going to History of Magic today, or are you going to the pitch?" Percy asked as they got up. "Another one of your teacher-approved individual training sessions?"
Oliver thought for a moment. On one hand, going to class would let him spend more time with Percy; on the other, flying would help him allay the built-up and unexplained frustration he'd felt since the previous night.
"Flying," he decided.
"Alright." Percy nodded. "I'll go and find Penny."
Oliver watched him walk on ahead, meet Penny at the Ravenclaw table, link hands with her, and proceed out of the Hall. He sighed, picked up his bag from the bench, and made make his own exit, walking out onto the Quidditch pitch.
His broom was in the changing room, locked up in the broom safe—one could never be too careful where broomsticks were concerned—, but he took it out and was soon in the air. He always thought better when he was in the air, but today, all he could think about were the smiles on Percy and Penelope's faces as they'd left the Great Hall. Oliver was happy for them, he was, but… he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
He flew around the goalposts again, kicking imaginary Quaffles out of them. With the Quidditch Cup won, exams were all he had to look forward to; exams, and Puddlemere's answer about joining the team. He didn't know which one he was more scared of. Exams mattered, yes, but the thought of being rejected from his favorite team made Oliver's blood run cold.
"That's not the way to go," he told himself firmly as he skid to a stop in midair. "Exams first, Puddlemere second. You can't do anything about it anymore."
He'd sent in his application and had flown at tryouts over a weekend a few weeks ago. He'd flown well—it was right after they'd won the Quidditch Cup, of course he flew well, the euphoria making him better than ever.
"Exams first, Puddlemere second," he said again. The only thing he could do was study for exams and keep flying. Thanks to Dumbledore, he could keep using the pitch for personal practice.
Oliver closed his eyes and circled the hoops again. He had several maneuvers he wanted to try, and he'd devote the next two hours to practicing.
When Oliver looked at his watch later, he saw that he had five minutes left. The time had flown so fast—and so had he. Sure, there were improvements to be made, but he was satisfied. He'd need to change before Transfiguration, so he aimed his broom at the ground.
"Thanks," he whispered to his broom as he locked it away in the safe.
Oliver shook his head at himself. If only Percy knew that he talked to his broom! Percy probably did know, what with how perceptive he was—and Oliver stopped in his tracks.
"Merlin…" he whispered, sinking down onto the nearest bench. He hung his head and wrung his hands through his hair. "Oh, Merlin…"
It was in a stupor that Oliver got to Transfiguration, and he didn't talk at all throughout the class, not even doing the spells McGonagall told them to. He couldn't. He'd look at his wand, at the desk he and Percy were supposed to be transfiguring into a pig, then at Percy himself, and the words would get stuck in his throat.
"Hey, Oliver," Percy said quietly. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Oliver said hoarsely. "Yeah, I'm fine, just…"
"Are you nervous about Puddlemere?"
"Yeah." He was, but… "Just… a bit muddled right now, sorry."
"Alright." Percy pursed his lips, looking just like McGonagall, but so much more—now's not the time.
.oOo.
"You go on," Oliver told Percy before breakfast the next morning. He hid a yawn in his hand. "I need to get my homework together, it might take a while."
"Want me to wait for you?"
"Nah, you go on. The toast'll be cold."
"So you'll eat cold toast?"
"Yeah, I'll eat cold toast." Oliver laughed. "Go on, I'll be right there."
"If you're sure—"
"I'm sure."
Oliver listened to him walk out. He didn't want to look at Percy—he'd slept so badly the night before, he knew he had shadows under his eyes, knew he was pale, knew he looked unsettled. Percy would worry, would try to talk, and the last thing Oliver wanted to do was talk to him.
Stupid, he told himself. Stupid. Get yourself together and go out there. He's in a relationship.
The realization he'd had on the Quidditch pitch the previous morning had shaken him. He was relieved to have finally figured it out, but other than happiness, he felt a sickening, raw fear: he knew he liked Percy, now, but he had no idea if Percy liked him back. He probably didn't, given that he had a girlfriend. He definitely didn't.
At least he's happy, Oliver thought. He himself wasn't, since the object of his affections was in a relationship, but at least Percy was happy. Then, another thought hit him, and he sat down on the bed in shock, because what if he isn't?
"What if Percy and Penny aren't meant to be? I don't want him to be unhappy, I like him. Merlin… I like him like him… He has to be. He has to be happy." Oliver laughed hollowly; he'd said that aloud.
But no matter his worry, he couldn't stay up in the dormitory forever. If he came down now, he'd still miss breakfast, but he couldn't miss class, so Oliver sighed, grabbed his robe and bookbag, and marched out of the room.
It would do no good to dwell on things he couldn't help.
But he couldn't stop himself.
There was a gaggle of girls near the entrance to Snape's Potions dungeon, laughing and talking to each other, and he was struck with the desire to march right up to them and say "Why? What is it about you that makes guys so interested? What about Penny? Is she nice? Is she really nice? Is she worth Percy?"
But he didn't.
He'd only found out about Penelope and Percy's relationship two night ago, he wouldn't sink so low and betray his own policy of avoiding gossip.
So instead, Oliver just smiled at them, entered the dungeon, took his usual seat next to Percy, smiled at him, and waited for the class to begin.
.oOo.
Oliver fell backward onto his bed. He was tired, having spent the day in classes without the opportunity to go and fly his frustrations away, and thinking of his stupid crush on Percy. How long had he felt this way? He didn't know, but probably a while; it just took him a long to realize.
"I just want to go to bed," he whispered.
"What?" Percy called from the bathroom doorway.
"I don't want to do my homework!" Oliver called back. "I'm tired!"
Percy nodded. He was dressed in his pajamas, which hung above his ankles awkwardly, and seemed ready to get into bed.
Oliver frowned. "I know I'm going to bed 'cause I'm lazy and I don't want to do the homework I didn't do yesterday—might have to do it tomorrow morning—"
"How could you possibly think that was a good idea?"
"What?"
"Not doing your homework."
"I was busy." Oliver could tell what Percy thought of that statement by the annoyed look he received, but he waved it off. "But anyway… why are you getting ready for bed? You're not meeting Penny tonight?"
"No."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Oliver titled his head. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
"Well… I mean… yes, no, everything's fine." Percy rubbed the back of his reddening neck. "We broke up, but… everything's fine."
"You broke up? But… you only told me you were dating two days ago." Oliver tried not to be offended. "And you were all chummy at breakfast yesterday!"
"Look, I…" Percy sighed and sat down on his bed, facing Oliver. "I know you don't listen to rumors at all, but Penny and I had dated for a year and a half. Since sixth year. I didn't think you missed it, but… I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Doesn't matter, anyway. We broke up at breakfast today."
"Why?" Oliver asked, then shook his head at himself. "You don't have to tell me."
"I don't." Percy nodded. "But I will: it was good, but it wasn't what either one of us was looking for."
Oliver steadied himself, hardly daring to hope, and swallowed. "What are you looking for?"
"You."
"Excuse me?" he sputtered.
"I overheard you this morning. Talking to yourself. I didn't want to say anything before, but then… Penny and I discussed breaking up two days ago. We just… didn't feel it anymore. And then—"
"Huh." Oliver grinned. "So you're telling me that just when I realize that I have the biggest crush on you, you break up with your girlfriend in order to pursue your happiness, as well as a relationship with me?"
Percy bristled. "It's coincidental, yes, but—but that doesn't mean it's insincere, or… or…"
"Let me laugh at my newfound happiness, Perce." Oliver grinned, and he couldn't stop. He had no desire to stop, so he kept smiling and smiling and smiling, and he could see that Percy felt the same.
