Hello! This was written for Round 7 of the Quidditch Fanfiction League Competition as Chaser 1 for the Falmouth Falcons. I had to break up my lovely Oliver/Percy with Lee, and here it is!My prompts were breathless, countryside, and counting backwards. UuU Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads!
Percy never came to one of Oliver's matches. Not a single one.
He didn't even show up in the height of their relationship, when all they did was kiss and talk and love each other without reservation, when their language consisted of soft touches to the wrist and looks filled with meaning. Back then, Oliver hadn't let it bother him. When their relationship began to crumble and fall, it rankled him constantly, bothered him more than anything else.
Their final fight was awful. Percy, whose preferred method of dealing with tension was silence, cracked. He screamed at Oliver. Oliver screamed back. Percy told Oliver that he cared to much about Quidditch and never about Percy, that they hardly spent any time together anymore. Oliver yelled that Percy didn't even try, that he had dismissed Quidditch from his mind even as Oliver attended every Ministry party and listened to Percy's lectures.
When Percy kept screaming, he tried everything. Yelling back didn't work, so he tried reasoning. He tried to leave, but Percy blocked the entrance. He tried ignoring him, but Percy only dogged his steps. He even tried counting backwards.
Finally, it was Oliver who broke. He hit Percy. He punched him right in the center of his face, breaking his nose. Percy stumbled backwards, breathless. They stared at each other in shock.
In one swift movement, their relationship was over.
Percy moved out the next week, back to the Burrow with no sign of what Oliver had done. Sometimes Oliver wished they didn't have magic, that everyone could see the pain he had caused Percy. If that was the case, everyone would be able to see what a terrible person he was.
But Percy hadn't thought to be so considerate, patching up his face while Oliver spent the night on the couch.
When Percy was gone, Oliver felt empty. It was strange. A week before, Oliver would have given anything to make a clean cut with Percy, to have it over and done. Then Percy was gone, and he didn't even have an argument to keep him company.
If it hadn't been during the season, Oliver would have gone to the bar. Instead, he stayed home, fingers itching for a drink. As the days began to blur together, differing in only the different teams they played, Oliver began to listen to the radio.
It saved him, the radio did. Oliver turned it on and found, to his surprise, a release. After practice or a match he would, instead of coming home and dully fixing himself something to eat before going to bed, turn on the radio. If it weren't for the radio, Oliver would have drowned himself in self-hatred.
There were music stations. Oliver would never admit it to another living soul, but he loved listening to Celestina Warbeck. Within weeks he knew all the greatest Wizarding hits. There were news stations, and soon enough his teammates were coming too him if they wanted information on the newest gossip or big tragedy. He listened to weekly dramas, small town countryside cooking shows, Muggle music, Quidditch coverage stations, variety shows, everything.
But his favorite was Lee Jordan's talk show.
Five nights a week, Lee's voice came on the air, broadcasting with the same charisma he'd had at school, only now it was perfected with experience. Every night, Oliver would drink a glass of grape juice and sit in his armchair to listen to Lee interview famous wizards, everyone from inventors and authors to the famous Harry Potter himself.
Every night, Oliver would remember Lee's voice as it had sounded from the stadium at Hogwarts, broadcasting live about Harry's Firebolt and the Slytherin team cheating and, with a pang of jealously, his crush on Angelina Johnson. Back then, it had been so easy to talk to Lee. He had always been around, always with Fred and George, the three pranksters. He had hung around the practices and they had sat next to each other in the common room, and Oliver had never really noticed him. Now, Oliver couldn't stop thinking about him.
One Sunday night, there was a knock on Oliver's door. Oliver, who had been using a game of Wizard's Chess to strategize the next match while listening to the Gideon Crumb's solo album, nearly jumped out of his chair in surprise. For a moment, he thought it was Percy, coming back. He didn't know what he'd have done if it was him.
When he opened his door, it was Lee Jordan.
Oliver's mouth fell open with shock.
Lee, of course, was looking handsome, wearing a sport jacket with a casual elegance Oliver's burly frame could never hope to achieve. He grinned when he saw Oliver.
"It's been a while, huh?" he said cheerily.
He had no idea. There was no way he could have any idea of how much Oliver thought about him, was there?
"Yeah, I guess you could say that," said Oliver finally.
He opened the door and shuffled to the side so Lee could come in, feeling foolish and clumsy. Why was Lee here? Was this some sort of ridiculous coincidence?Merlin's beard, if some deity was playing mind games with him...
"I've come to ask a favor of you," said Lee, never one to beat around the bush.
"Y-Yeah?"
"I've got a radio show now, did you know?"
"I listen to a lot of radio," blustered Oliver, feeling dumber and dumber by the moment. "Including yours."
"Oh, good," continued Lee, seemingly oblivious to Oliver's discomfort. "I was wondering if you'd be on it."
"On what?" asked Oliver.
"My radio show," said Lee, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Oliver, you there? I'm beginning to wonder."
"Me?" said Oliver. "But...why?"
"Because Puddlemere is first in the league, that's why!" replied Lee practically bounding up to him. "People are up in arms about this year's finals, and I think people are dying to hear from a player! Can you imagine the ratings?"
Despite himself, Oliver couldn't help that his heart sank a little. Ratings. "Sure, I'll be on your show," he said. "When?"
"Next week," said Lee. "I don't line up people far in advance, it's never hard to find people willing to be on the air. Merlin, am I glad you said yes."
"What, is the wizarding world that much in need of a good Quidditch talk?" asked Oliver, laughing. It had been a long time since he'd had a good laugh, he realized.
"No," said Lee, looking serious. Dark brown eyes met his. "We haven't talked since the Battle, you know. I've missed you."
"Er-what?"
"I heard about your breakup with Percy. George told me," said Lee. "And I'm sorry, for what it's worth. And..."
"And?" prompted Oliver.
To Oliver's immense surprise, Lee actually blushed. "And, well, I've tried to be patient, but it's been months since you two broke up and I haven't been able to run into you anywhere, not Diagon Alley, not Hogsmeade, not even St. Mungo's."
"You milled around St. Mungo's looking for me?" asked Oliver, floored.
"Yeah," said Lee, running a hand through his neatly tied dreadlocks. "But you weren't anywhere, so I decided to come looking for you. To ask you about the show and maybe..."
"Yes?" prompted Oliver, his heart thudding in his chest.
"A date," finished Lee. "If it isn't too soon for you."
"Oh," said Oliver, a man who could be hit with a Bludger full-force and not go down and yet found himself weak in the knees. "I want to, but..."
Lee sighed. "I knew I should have waited."
"No!" amended Oliver hastily. "It's not that! Lee, I'd love to, I've actually been thinking about you a ton lately, but...I hit Percy. He was yelling, and I got too mad...I hit him, broke his nose. I don't think you should-"
Lee actually laughed before realizing himself and coughing to cover it up. A thin ruse. "Are you really so torn up about that? If I was dating that git I would be tempted to punch him every day. Honestly, I commend you for not punching him sooner."
"You're really okay with that?" said Oliver. "With me breaking his nose and everything? What if I hit you?"
"I'd hit you back," said Lee, crossing his arms. "So what do you say?"
"About going on a date with you?"
"No, about going on a date with a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Yes, about going on a date with me!"
"Yes," said Oliver finally. "I'd love to."
"Great," said Lee. "Oh, and...I hate to ask another favor, but do you think I could maybe come to one of your practices?"
Oliver tried not to look too surprised. He'd been rocking that look a little more than he liked that night. "For the show?
"No," said Lee. "I miss being able to watch Quidditch without a big crowd. What do you think?"
"As long as you promised not to report any of our strategies," said Oliver. "I think that would be wonderful."
Lee came to every single practice from that moment on.
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