Meet Me at the Pitch

Chapter One: Normal, Perfect, and Boring

Genre: Humour/Romance

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Percy/Oliver

Mero: xD Just a little study on Percy's character I did.... it has a little bit of Percy/Oliver slash later on... probably in the second or third chapter. It just popped into my head one day, pretty strange.

DISCLAIMER: I dun own Harry Potter... If I did, this wouldn't be fanfiction.

'dialogue' thoughts

"dialogue" speaking

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Percy Weasley was completely normal in every aspect. Unless you count the fact that he was gangly and over-freckled, blind and bespectacled, and his red hair stuck out of the crowd like a sore thumb. Unless you count his average-sized brain, which housed a not-so-average sized intellegence. Unless you count the fact that he was reserved and rigid, sarcastic and dry, and held a firm belief in swift and brutal, but honest, justice. Unless you count the fact that he didn't like Quidditch that much, was a complete bookworm, and preferred Muggle rock music above any other genres.

He was perfect, too. Unless you count that he's extremely antisocial. Unless you count the fact that he's clumsy and uncoordinated, not athletic in the least. Unless you count that that majority of the general public considered him a nerd or a git. Unless you count the fact that he occasionally wore mismatched socks.

Percy was also boring. I mean, with a middle name like Ignatius... of course he's boring.

So, at his desk sat normal, perfect, boring Percy, tapping his feet (which were clad in mismatched socks) to the rhythm of 'Growing on Me' by The Darkness. And blissfully ignoring the papers that sat there beside his muggle 'radio', waiting for his normal, perfect, and boring signature.

You see, a few minutes ago, boring Percy had grown bored of the boredom that came with signing your signature on an infinite amount of semi-important paperwork, and thusfore had dug out a muggle contraption called a radio, and a few 'CD's' to listen to, so he wouldn't be as bored when he went back to signing his signature on that infinite amount of semi-important paperwork.

But, alas, the music was very tempting, and it was so much more interesting to just ignore the papers on the desk completely, and that's exactly what Percy did.

He ignored the paperwork, and sang along with the infectious chorus when it began: "You're really growing on me, you're really growing on meeeeeeeeeeee..."

Of course, Percy didn't want anyone to hear him singing his heart out, so his was more like a whisper than the passionate yelling of the lead vocal on the CD.

This continued for a few more minutes, Percy thankful no one heard him whisper-singing, and thankful that no one heard the music that was being played because of these wonderfully innovative muggle objects called 'headphones'.

There was a knock at the door to his office, well, it sounded more like a violent attempt to knock the door off it's hinges than a knock. That was never good. Percy slid the headphones off of his ears, reciting a quick charm to move his radio, CD's, and headphones into his office closet.

"C-come in," he stated loudly, business-like, although his ears were ringing and the silence of the office without music seemed deafening. Until the person who'd tried to kill the door entered. It went something like this: the door swung open violently, hitting the wall with a crash. Percy cringed, hoping it didn't leave a mark. He looked up to greet this mystery visitor, when his imagination went crazy, and it appeared as though venom was dripping from the mystery visitor's mouth, and his eyes were red with anger and malice, and two long, twisted crimson horns had suddenly erupted from just above his hairline.

Of course, this was only Percy's imagination, and the visitor, in reality, looked more like one of Percy's old roommates from school who had graduated to become a Quidditch player for some team... 'Puddlemere,' he thought, 'that's the team that Oliver plays on... I think.'

"Er," Percy quickly snapped himself out of his reverie as he realized that this Oliver Wood-lookalike was mad as hell and looked about ready to rip Percy in half, "Wh-what can I do for you?"

"I need to talk to the Minister of Magic...," the visitor growled, and added as an afterthought, "Now." Which sounded like a threat to Percy, who was now slightly scared, "He's busy right no--"

"No, dammit!" the visitor shrieked, "Let me talk to him!"

"Take a seat," Percy sighed, annoyed. He hated this type of people, who insisted on talking to the Minister, usually about the most miniscule of things. "Now," the red-head continued after the visitor had grudgingly took a seat, "Can I have your name, and your complaint, please?"

"My name is Oliver Wood," the man replied, still cross, though he'd calmed down slightly, "and my complaint is that--something wrong?" Oliver blinked nervously, realizing that the red-head was staring at him in considerable awe.

"Oliver Wood...," Percy stated, "No wonder you look like him."

"Er, what?"

"You're Oliver Wood."

"I don't do autographs, besides, today's my day off."

"I don't want your autograph," Percy replied snappily, autographs had no point. Besides, Quidditch was only slightly interesting.

"Soo... What do you want?" Oliver asked, looking at Percy strangely.

"I'm just surprised that my old roommate from Hogwarts stormed into my office about to rip my head off, that's all," Percy replied casually, shrugging and scribbling his signature across one of the semi-important documents.

"... Percy Weasley?!"

"That's me," Percy said nonchalantly, "Complaint, please." Though he had a bit of trouble hiding a smile when Oliver grinned widely, "Wow, Perce! I haven't seen you in... two years! How've you been?"

"Er... pretty good, you?"

Oliver said nothing, just looked over Percy critically before cheerfully chirping (quite annoyingly, actually) "Oh, c'mon, Perce! Give me details! You still with Penny?"

"Er, no," Percy looked away uncomfortably. Of course, he'd expected Oliver to ask, after all, he and Penny were the subjects of gossip for nearly a whole year.

"What happened?" Oliver asked, his brown eyes filled with concern for his old roommate.

Percy smiled slightly, he was basically (keep in mind, 'basically')over the whole ordeal, as they had ended their relationship about six months ago, "Well, erm... Penny left me when I..." The red-head shifted in his seat, "Er, it didn't work."

"Oh, well...Sorry mate. How's the ministry going?"

Percy grinned and rolled his eyes. It was going great. Absolutely toasty, if on that toast was spread the most foul and smelly of all spreads that could be spread on toast. "Well," Percy said, "I usually get a few people who're angry at the Minister per day... you're the first one for today."

Oliver had the grace to blush, "Sorry, Perce... I got kinda mad there."

"But other than that, it's fine," Percy fought back a chuckle about Oliver being 'kinda' mad. They sat there for a few minutes, Percy scribbling his name on a few semi-important documents and Oliver looking about Percy's office, before he finally decided to pop the question. No, not that question. This question: "So, how's your family been doing?"

Percy whimpered inwardly, he'd really hoped he'd be able to avoid this part of the conversation, because he hated lying. "Good," he lied anyways, he really didn't have the faintest idea how his family was doing, "They've been... really good... How's Quidditch?" Percy decided to take the easy route and change the subject before Oliver could get a word in. Of course, if he'd have known Oliver'd talk about how his job'd been going for ten minutes straight, Percy would've changed the subject to something different.

But, alas, he didn't know. So he had to listen to Oliver's banter about Quidditch and Puddlemere United and Oliver's new Firebolt and how their Seeker shoved a Snitch up his nose and had to go to St. Mungo's because one of the wings had cut into his flesh and started to cause internal bleeding... for ten minutes.

"That's... great," Percy lied, commenting on the Seeker with the Snitch up his nose. 'How do you fit a Snitch up your nose...? Is that even possible...?'

Percy sat for a couple of minutes, pondering whether or not it was anatomically and physically possible to fit a one inch Snitch up your nose... before he realized that he was still in his office, and supposed to be doing work, "Erm, Oliver... I should be working," Percy admitted, blushing slightly, "What is it that you wanted to see the Minister for?"

Percy didn't know it was possible to go from cheerful to miffed beyond belief in a quarter of a second, but, of course, he didn't know that it was possible to fit a Snitch up your nose. Oliver had proved to him both, because when Percy mentioned the minister, Oliver turned back into the same Oliver that had wanted to rip Percy's head off and break the door off of it's hinges and murder the Minister in an extremely tortorous way, "That bastard wants to build his house on our practice pitch! He claims that our pitch is on "Ministry-owned land" and so he said it's under the complete control of the Ministry."

"Oliver...," Percy looked Oliver unsteadily in the eye, "It is. All land owned by magical companies, foundations, or groups is under the complete control of the Ministry and can be claimed or changed anytime under the direction of the Minister of Magic." He recited most possibly the stupidest law ever to be conceived by man, which (coincidentally) this law was put into effect just a few weeks ago by the current minister, Cornelius Fudge.

So of course it was stupid.

Saying that Oliver was quite a bit more than angry would be the understatement of the century, so alas, I shall not say it.

Let's just say that Percy wished he could plug his headphones into Oliver, because the sound of Oliver's shrieks and protests and rude curse words most likely attracted the attention of the entire Ministry of Magic building. Including the scientists and technicians down in the Department of Mysteries. And maybe even a few random muggles who just happened to pass by the entrances to the Ministry facility at that moment.

"Oliver!" Percy shrieked, trying to snap Oliver out of his temper, "Calm down and talk like a human. I understand you're angry," Percy looked Oliver in the eye with an acquired concern. In the ministry, you learned to look the part when you told people 'no.' "But, there's nothing you or I can do about it. Threatening him probably won't help," Percy said with a slight smile.

"But, Perce... we've had that pitch for two years! It's not right!"

"I know, Oliver," Percy rose from his seat, walking around his desk to place a comforting hand on Oliver's shoulder.

"You can't talk to him, or anything?" Oliver asked, looking up at Percy with a pitiful look on his features. Percy was always a sucker for that look back at school. That's why Oliver always got perfect scores on his potions homework... because he gave Percy that look, and Percy let him copy his homework.

And it seemed Percy was still a sucker for the pitiful look. Because Percy was about ready to give in and agree to help Oliver, but then Oliver latched onto Percy's arm, and strengthened his pitiful look by a lot, and Percy rolled his blue eyes and nodded.

"I'll help you, Oliver. Or, I'll try," Percy surrendered, though he felt really divided. This could quite possibly get him fired from the very job he'd wanted forever.

"Good," Oliver nodded contentedly, releasing Percy's arm and standing, "Why don't you come to practice tomorrow? We can talk more there."

Percy smiled and nodded once more, "Where is it?"

"Well... I was never good with directions. Meet me in front of the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow at 5."

"Okay... but... Oliver, I might be late, because I'll be at work..."

"I'll just come and pick you up from here, then."

"Oh.. erm, okay," Percy smiled slightly. This was awfully strange, Percy and Oliver had been friends at Hogwarts, but they stuck to their respective crowds, never talking to each other much. Percy supposed they were only being polite. After all, you can't ignore the person you lived with for seven years, and haven't seen in two.

"Well, Perce, I better go," Oliver waved as he headed for the door which he'd previously tried to rip off the hinges, "See you tomorrow." Percy waved slightly as Oliver shut the door and walked off, feeling the familiar tug of impatience and anxiousness to get his work over with, and also for tomorrow at five o'clock.

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Mero: Oh, no! It's so rushed! -is very impatient- Please R&R!