Percy awoke the next morning a bit groggy. It took him a few seconds to remember what had happened yesterday evening, but once he did he only pushed it from his mind again. Stretching listlessly, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and opened his bedcurtain. Oliver had left, as per usual, for early-morning Quidditch practice (which, come to think of it, should be ending about now), leaving Percy alone for his morning routine. He put on his glasses before getting up out of bed, then grabbed a towel and went into the bathroom for a quick shower before getting dressed and heading down to the Gryffindor table to eat breakfast.

He was not used to the noise he heard when he opened to door to the Great Hall, since he had not eaten with the rest of the student body for a good two weeks. As he approached the table, he was pleasantly surprised when Oliver waved at him and beckoned, patting the spot right next to him on the bench. Percy smiled and joined him. "Thanks. What's for breakfast?" Oliver frowned slightly, noticing the upset frown that had been on his friend's lips before he'd spoken and began to act cheerful. "Omlettes and bacon, or sausage if you prefer. What's wrong?" Percy had already picked up his fork and begun to dig in, so he politely waited until he'd finished chewing and swallowed to answer. "What do you mean?" Oliver sighed. "Listen, Perce, you can't hide it from me. And what's more, you don't have to. Now what's bothering you?"

Percy frowned, but it was more of a stubborn pout. Sure, he and Oliver had become much better friends in the past few weeks-- in fact, he'd been the one who'd taken over bringing Percy his homework while he was in the infirmary. He'd told the other boy a lot, about his family and life at home, how stressful his schoolwork could get, even a little bit about the bullying he'd been going through. He hadn't mentioned any names for fear Oliver would go after them; he had quickly assumed the role of the fragile boy's protector, and Percy often wondered if his friend hadn't been doing it from the start. He seemed more comfortable being able to take care of Percy more openly. But this; this was something Oliver, or anyone else for that matter, could no longer protect him from. But the boy's eyes were entreating him, almost on the borderline of ingratiating, and he finally decided that it would probably be helpful, healthy even, for him to tell someone. "All right, fine. I'll tell you. Just... not here, not now. Come up to the dormitory after transfiguration." Realizing that this was probably all he was going to get from the boy for the time being, Oliver returned to his now half-empty plate. "Okay, Perce. After transfig."