Oliver sat at the top of the stadium's wooden stands, his face
leaning on his hands. The moon shone down on the now empty Quidditch field
and on the solitary figure that sulked in lonely contemplation.
"Hey, Wood." A voice called. Oliver lifted his head off his knuckles to find a mess of red-hair steadily climbing up to him.
"Percy, what on earth are you doing up here?"
"I might ask you the same thing, old fellow."
"Oh, I'm just… just thinking is all."
"Thinking? Maybe you should've done a bit more of that during practice, eh?" Percy said, sitting down next to his friend.
"You were watching? Percy, you know practices are restricted to,"
"To team members, yes I know. But as head boy I feel it's my duty to… check up on my house."
"Oh, right." Oliver mumbled.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Why, don't I seem fine?"
"Wood, don't try to pull anything past me. I'm smarter than you." He said, smiling wickedly. Oliver just laughed. "Besides, you're too obvious when something's on your mind."
"Obvious? How am I obvious?"
"You fell off your broom."
"So?"
"Three times."
"Five, actually." Percy stared at him, thunder struck. "I was doing some warm up maneuvers before everyone else got here."
"Alright," Percy sighed, crossing his arms in an authoritative manner. "What's her name?"
"What?"
"Oliver, you've never fallen off of your broom. Ever. Not once, in all of my seven years of knowing you have you ever, EVER, fallen off of your broom or even hinted at a mistake at Quidditch. Tonight, you were full of them. The only thing in the world that could get you this messed up and unfocused is a girl. So unless you want me to send George and Fred to spy after you, which, believe me they'd be more than willing to do, you might as well just tell me."
Oliver sighed. And leaned onto the railing behind him, his face looking tired.
'I kissed her." Now Percy was interested.
"Kissed who?"
"Liz, I kissed Liz."
Percy's face clouded with thoughtful confusion. "Liz… oh! You mean the American transfer? What's her name... Liz… Whitman? Marlowe?"
"Shakespeare. And yes, that's her."
"And you kissed her?"
Oliver nodded glumly.
"Wow. Good going, mate." He said, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. Oliver shrugged him off.
" No, mate, not good. She trusted me, Percy. She trusted me and I hurt her."
"Hurt her? Man, you must be a bad kisser…"
"Will you stop it? I swear, you're almost as bad as those brothers of yours."
"Yes, well, that's just our little secret, isn't it?" he said, secretly thankful that there was one person on the planet he didn't have to be "stern Percy" with. Wood didn't care if he was barking orders or getting better grades than everyone else (except maybe Hermione). That's what made him the ideal friend.
"What am I going to do, Perc?"
"Do? I'm afraid I don't see why anything has to be done."
"What? Are you seriously daft? I kissed her, Percy. Kissed. Her. Do you have nay idea what that means?"
"It doesn't mean anything." His face curled into a sneaky smile. "Unless you fancy her."
"Unless I what?!" Oliver almost exploded, rising to his feet. Percy just looked at him.
"You do, don't you?"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous."
"No, you do. If you didn't you wouldn't be getting this worked up about it."
"I don't not like her!" he boomed, exasperated. "I don't even know her! I don't know, her father's name, or why she transferred here from Salem,"
"Wait," Percy interrupted, "You say she came from Salem Academy?"
"Yea, why?"
"No reason…" he murmured, his face fully displaying that the well- oiled wheels in his mind were working. Oliver didn't notice.
"I don't know, anything about her, Perc."
"Then why did you kiss her?" he earnestly asked his friend. Oliver's face went blank.
"I… I don't know." He collapsed back onto the bleachers.
"I don't know, Percy. But, have you ever, just felt something, something that seemed so right, and you don't know why and it makes no sense?"
"Oh yea, I feel that way all the time." The redhead moaned.
"No, seriously." He sighed, his face growing soft. "I don't know what it is about her. I feel like I can tell her anything, like I'd trust her with my soul…"
"Yes," Percy interrupted, "But would you trust her with your broom?" Oliver laughed.
"No, you know you're the only one I'd give my broom to, Perc."
Percy puffed himself up a little, making Oliver laugh even more. "Glad to see you still have your priorities straight." Oliver's laughs settled down and his face grew serious again.
"What am I going to do?"
"I'd stay away from her for a while," Percy replied, his face completely sober. "It'll give you both some time to think, sort stuff out and what not."
"Right…"
"Besides, you've got a Quidditch match in a few weeks that you need to at least stay on your broom for."
"Right. Gotcha." He smiled. "Thanks Perc."
"What's a best friend for?"
"I swear, if you ever let anyone see the side of you that I do…"
'What? I'd be more popular than.. Harry Potter?"
Both the boys laughed at that as they stood up and sauntered out of the stadium.
"Hey, Wood." A voice called. Oliver lifted his head off his knuckles to find a mess of red-hair steadily climbing up to him.
"Percy, what on earth are you doing up here?"
"I might ask you the same thing, old fellow."
"Oh, I'm just… just thinking is all."
"Thinking? Maybe you should've done a bit more of that during practice, eh?" Percy said, sitting down next to his friend.
"You were watching? Percy, you know practices are restricted to,"
"To team members, yes I know. But as head boy I feel it's my duty to… check up on my house."
"Oh, right." Oliver mumbled.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Why, don't I seem fine?"
"Wood, don't try to pull anything past me. I'm smarter than you." He said, smiling wickedly. Oliver just laughed. "Besides, you're too obvious when something's on your mind."
"Obvious? How am I obvious?"
"You fell off your broom."
"So?"
"Three times."
"Five, actually." Percy stared at him, thunder struck. "I was doing some warm up maneuvers before everyone else got here."
"Alright," Percy sighed, crossing his arms in an authoritative manner. "What's her name?"
"What?"
"Oliver, you've never fallen off of your broom. Ever. Not once, in all of my seven years of knowing you have you ever, EVER, fallen off of your broom or even hinted at a mistake at Quidditch. Tonight, you were full of them. The only thing in the world that could get you this messed up and unfocused is a girl. So unless you want me to send George and Fred to spy after you, which, believe me they'd be more than willing to do, you might as well just tell me."
Oliver sighed. And leaned onto the railing behind him, his face looking tired.
'I kissed her." Now Percy was interested.
"Kissed who?"
"Liz, I kissed Liz."
Percy's face clouded with thoughtful confusion. "Liz… oh! You mean the American transfer? What's her name... Liz… Whitman? Marlowe?"
"Shakespeare. And yes, that's her."
"And you kissed her?"
Oliver nodded glumly.
"Wow. Good going, mate." He said, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. Oliver shrugged him off.
" No, mate, not good. She trusted me, Percy. She trusted me and I hurt her."
"Hurt her? Man, you must be a bad kisser…"
"Will you stop it? I swear, you're almost as bad as those brothers of yours."
"Yes, well, that's just our little secret, isn't it?" he said, secretly thankful that there was one person on the planet he didn't have to be "stern Percy" with. Wood didn't care if he was barking orders or getting better grades than everyone else (except maybe Hermione). That's what made him the ideal friend.
"What am I going to do, Perc?"
"Do? I'm afraid I don't see why anything has to be done."
"What? Are you seriously daft? I kissed her, Percy. Kissed. Her. Do you have nay idea what that means?"
"It doesn't mean anything." His face curled into a sneaky smile. "Unless you fancy her."
"Unless I what?!" Oliver almost exploded, rising to his feet. Percy just looked at him.
"You do, don't you?"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous."
"No, you do. If you didn't you wouldn't be getting this worked up about it."
"I don't not like her!" he boomed, exasperated. "I don't even know her! I don't know, her father's name, or why she transferred here from Salem,"
"Wait," Percy interrupted, "You say she came from Salem Academy?"
"Yea, why?"
"No reason…" he murmured, his face fully displaying that the well- oiled wheels in his mind were working. Oliver didn't notice.
"I don't know, anything about her, Perc."
"Then why did you kiss her?" he earnestly asked his friend. Oliver's face went blank.
"I… I don't know." He collapsed back onto the bleachers.
"I don't know, Percy. But, have you ever, just felt something, something that seemed so right, and you don't know why and it makes no sense?"
"Oh yea, I feel that way all the time." The redhead moaned.
"No, seriously." He sighed, his face growing soft. "I don't know what it is about her. I feel like I can tell her anything, like I'd trust her with my soul…"
"Yes," Percy interrupted, "But would you trust her with your broom?" Oliver laughed.
"No, you know you're the only one I'd give my broom to, Perc."
Percy puffed himself up a little, making Oliver laugh even more. "Glad to see you still have your priorities straight." Oliver's laughs settled down and his face grew serious again.
"What am I going to do?"
"I'd stay away from her for a while," Percy replied, his face completely sober. "It'll give you both some time to think, sort stuff out and what not."
"Right…"
"Besides, you've got a Quidditch match in a few weeks that you need to at least stay on your broom for."
"Right. Gotcha." He smiled. "Thanks Perc."
"What's a best friend for?"
"I swear, if you ever let anyone see the side of you that I do…"
'What? I'd be more popular than.. Harry Potter?"
Both the boys laughed at that as they stood up and sauntered out of the stadium.