Chapter V: Aftermath of a Passionate Night
"Hey Flint! Get up! You'll be late for breakfast!" yelled Draco. "Eh, love? Do you have to be so loud?" asked a slightly disheveled Harry, turning over to face his partner. "Oh, sorry, Potter. 'Didn't mean to startle you, mate," Draco apologized, placing his hand on Harry's cheek. "S'okay, Dray. Whoa, I didn't mean to sleep in like that! I might miss breakfast! Jeez, we had a real wild night last night, eh?" Harry asked. "Yeah, it was wonderful. We must do it again soon," Draco said, buttoning up his black satin pajama top. "I'd better get back to my tower to get dressed. I love you, Draco," Harry said, quickly brushing himself off. "Here, I'll transport you," Draco offered. "Alright. I'll see you, love," Harry said lovingly. Draco pulled out his wand, and, with one word, sent Harry back to his room. Marcus Flint just grunted, pulling his sheets up over his head. "You have to get up. Do you want to starve?" Draco asked, tapping his foot. Marcus muttered something under his breath and stayed where he was. "Well, I give up. Just don't blame me when you start whining later," Draco said, turning to open his trunk. He changed into his robes and burst out of the door, leaving Marcus lying there. "Damn Wood. Hmmph. Eh, I guess I'll have to get up sooner or later," he grumbled as he pulled himself out of bed. He'd have to face Wood that day; their tables were pretty close together. He just sighed and dressed.
* * *
Oliver snapped back into reality. He wasn't sure what to do about the little "love connection" he had had with Marcus the night before. If he told Percy, he would lose Percy's trust. But, if he didn't, the guilt would plague him forever, or worse, Percy would find out and Oliver would still lose his trust. Basically, he was screwed either way. But he couldn't let the guilt consume him. Percy lay in his arms, a look of bliss on his face. Aww.sleeping like a baby. I'd hate to wake him, Oliver thought. Oliver had early Quidditch practice that morning. Although Fred and George would piss and moan every time, he didn't let it get to him, because he enjoyed playing Quidditch, and he was determined to excel. Percy's arm grabbed Oliver's, unconsciously grasping his love, not wanting him to leave. He clutched it tightly. It's as if he knows that I have to leave, Oliver thought, smiling down at his sleeping roommate. Stirring suddenly, Percy lifted one of his arms to rub his eyes. He looked up at Oliver's grinning face, and a feeling of safety and comfort swept through him. "G'morning, Olly. When did you wake?" Percy asked, his crimson hair tousled. "I've only been up for a little while, Perce," Oliver answered, as he put his hand on Percy's cheek. "Listen; I've got Quidditch practice coming up pretty soon, so I'll have to get up," Oliver said calmly. "I understand," Percy said, "I have to get up too, anyway." He rolled off of Oliver and onto the other side of the bed. "'Better get dressed. I don't want to be late," Oliver said, pulling off his nightshirt. He stumbled over to his trunk, kneeling down to unlock it. He still had a few folded sweaters and a couple of clean pairs of pants neatly in place. His Quidditch uniform, which he wore for practices and games, was folded in there as well. It was a tad sweaty, but didn't give off a foul odor. "'Kind of sweaty, but it's clean enough. Hell, it's just going to get sweaty again today," Oliver rationalized. "You should let me wash it for you. After today's practice, I'll take it and wash it," Percy offered, changing into his 'P' sweater that his mother had knitted. "Sounds good; it's been a couple days since I've washed it, anyway," he answered. They finished changing and left their dorm hand in hand; Percy wanted to watch Oliver's Quidditch practice.
"Hey Flint! Get up! You'll be late for breakfast!" yelled Draco. "Eh, love? Do you have to be so loud?" asked a slightly disheveled Harry, turning over to face his partner. "Oh, sorry, Potter. 'Didn't mean to startle you, mate," Draco apologized, placing his hand on Harry's cheek. "S'okay, Dray. Whoa, I didn't mean to sleep in like that! I might miss breakfast! Jeez, we had a real wild night last night, eh?" Harry asked. "Yeah, it was wonderful. We must do it again soon," Draco said, buttoning up his black satin pajama top. "I'd better get back to my tower to get dressed. I love you, Draco," Harry said, quickly brushing himself off. "Here, I'll transport you," Draco offered. "Alright. I'll see you, love," Harry said lovingly. Draco pulled out his wand, and, with one word, sent Harry back to his room. Marcus Flint just grunted, pulling his sheets up over his head. "You have to get up. Do you want to starve?" Draco asked, tapping his foot. Marcus muttered something under his breath and stayed where he was. "Well, I give up. Just don't blame me when you start whining later," Draco said, turning to open his trunk. He changed into his robes and burst out of the door, leaving Marcus lying there. "Damn Wood. Hmmph. Eh, I guess I'll have to get up sooner or later," he grumbled as he pulled himself out of bed. He'd have to face Wood that day; their tables were pretty close together. He just sighed and dressed.
* * *
Oliver snapped back into reality. He wasn't sure what to do about the little "love connection" he had had with Marcus the night before. If he told Percy, he would lose Percy's trust. But, if he didn't, the guilt would plague him forever, or worse, Percy would find out and Oliver would still lose his trust. Basically, he was screwed either way. But he couldn't let the guilt consume him. Percy lay in his arms, a look of bliss on his face. Aww.sleeping like a baby. I'd hate to wake him, Oliver thought. Oliver had early Quidditch practice that morning. Although Fred and George would piss and moan every time, he didn't let it get to him, because he enjoyed playing Quidditch, and he was determined to excel. Percy's arm grabbed Oliver's, unconsciously grasping his love, not wanting him to leave. He clutched it tightly. It's as if he knows that I have to leave, Oliver thought, smiling down at his sleeping roommate. Stirring suddenly, Percy lifted one of his arms to rub his eyes. He looked up at Oliver's grinning face, and a feeling of safety and comfort swept through him. "G'morning, Olly. When did you wake?" Percy asked, his crimson hair tousled. "I've only been up for a little while, Perce," Oliver answered, as he put his hand on Percy's cheek. "Listen; I've got Quidditch practice coming up pretty soon, so I'll have to get up," Oliver said calmly. "I understand," Percy said, "I have to get up too, anyway." He rolled off of Oliver and onto the other side of the bed. "'Better get dressed. I don't want to be late," Oliver said, pulling off his nightshirt. He stumbled over to his trunk, kneeling down to unlock it. He still had a few folded sweaters and a couple of clean pairs of pants neatly in place. His Quidditch uniform, which he wore for practices and games, was folded in there as well. It was a tad sweaty, but didn't give off a foul odor. "'Kind of sweaty, but it's clean enough. Hell, it's just going to get sweaty again today," Oliver rationalized. "You should let me wash it for you. After today's practice, I'll take it and wash it," Percy offered, changing into his 'P' sweater that his mother had knitted. "Sounds good; it's been a couple days since I've washed it, anyway," he answered. They finished changing and left their dorm hand in hand; Percy wanted to watch Oliver's Quidditch practice.