Chapter Four: Moving
"Come on in, Oliver," Percy sighed heavily, opening the front door a tad, leaving it ajar for Oliver to follow him. "And you can tell me what you've gotten yourself into this time."
Wide-eyed, Oliver took another look around the disorderly yard before scurrying up the steps and inside, closing the door with a loud BANG! lest the mess somehow found a way to crawl in after him.
The ever-present feeling of apprehension, foreboding, increased in his chest at Percy's sharp words, though he knew they were justified. He'd called him out, much as he use to in high school when his no-nonsense attitude would almost immediately force a confession from Oliver or Dave. It produced the same effect now – he shuffled his feet in place, tried to ignore the anxiety that always swelled before the confession, and the uneasiness that seemed to be crawling (tensing) every muscle. But that feeling of uneasiness – Oliver realized, he'd felt the same throughout the luncheon with Percy. Something about their meeting didn't quite seem right… didn't seem true.
Not that his feelings mattered anyways. After all, it was almost time (or crunch time, as his coach frequently called such anxiety-causing matters on the field) for Oliver to step up to the plate.
But Percy was nowhere in sight and he didn't want to go looking through the small house for him, especially after the cold reaction outside. So instead he remained standing inside the doorway. Waiting.
Oliver immediately recognized the room he was standing in to be the living room area, obviously the most occupied room of the house. Old chairs and a long couch with faded, mismatched fabrics were scattered throughout the room, with the occasional eccentric object (most of which appeared too dated and complex for him to even chance a guess as to their origins) sitting on different-sized tables. A dog bed sat in the corner. There were no bookshelves; instead books of different sizes, ages and conditions were piled carelessly in corners, under and above the tables, and splayed open on every chair. Oliver even thought that some of the lumpier cushions might have been hiding even more books. A fireplace roared along the back wall, a fresh log having been thrown on it. The mantelpiece was lined with photographs of Percy's family and high school days, and Oliver guessed anyone unfamiliar to be work colleagues.
Despite the age of Percy's furniture, the house – to Oliver – looked Percy. Cleanliness and order were important to him at Hogwarts, yes, and the condition of the house was a shock to Oliver at first. But, thinking back, he could remember that his roommate wasn't always strict with his cleaning habits. Whenever there'd be a large project or studying to be done, or even when Oliver was preparing his Quidditch supplies for a big game, Percy wouldn't mind the room in shambles as long as the dust stayed away and everything was hidden when company came round. And so now, viewing this living room with such memories in mind, everything seemed to be set out comfortably and casually, giving a pronounced 'lived-in' warmth that Oliver himself still hadn't found since moving into Puddlemere Estates four years ago.
There were very few items here that linked Percy to the wizarding world. And yet – is that a wizard-teaching planner? Oliver walked over to a small table that held an opened, glowing book, sparks rising from the pages. Magically charmed to his activities. Interesting. He leaned over to read Percy's notes:
Meet with GF to go over lesson plan (vac.)
Submit September marks to FK
Session #15 - Detail Hamlet Paper
Questions and discussion on Twelfth Night (Act I and II), as follows
(blah blah blah blah blah)
Finish grading essays
OW at Chez Pudd.
J…
'J…'? What would that be--
"Have a seat," Percy came back into the room, balancing two teacups and a plate of biscuits in his hands. He placed one set on top a pile of books and used his hand to clean off the couch seat in one sweep. He sat down, gesturing for Oliver to join him. "All right. Let's have it. What did you do this time? And what does it have to do with me?"
Oliver blinked before finding his senses and joining Percy on the couch. The lesson planner now forgotten, he felt indignant at Percy's tone of voice, of his condescension and –
So very sorry that it was fully deserved.
He took the teacup with a grateful nod, allowing for a careful sip of the strong, hot brew before delving right into his story.
And tell Percy he did – Oliver relayed the events of the interview word-for-word, including Dave and Henry's arrival and attempted joke to put Miss Candy Cane in her place. He described the scene at the bar afterwards and the outpouring media coverage since the weekend, including a list of all the disadvantages that could occur if he were to tell the truth now.
All the while he spoke, Percy stared at the floor, at no place in particular, occasionally nodding and nibbling on a biscuit. He didn't look dejected at finding out the real reason for Oliver's visit, instead taking the news as though he were hearing the latest round of Quidditch draft picks. When he'd finished, Percy set down his empty cup and brushed his hands together, finally meeting his gaze.
"And I'm to fit this description of the mystery boyfriend?"
"Not 'to fit'. It does fit you," Oliver felt his face redden. He spoke in a hurried rush, using his hands. His limbs felt too big, too awkward and useless, and he banged his legs against Percy's before settling back in the chair. "It's just… We all got a little caught up. And we really just described a person that-- Well, I was just trying to think up a description, and Dave and Henry… You and I were together for so long. Together at school. And--" He breathed out, feeling his face grow even more red. He opened his mouth to further explain--
"I'll do it."
"You'll do what?" Oliver stared at him incredulously.
Percy gave him a gentle smile, giving his knee a tap with his own in assurance, though his brow furrowed and he didn't look at Oliver directly. "Of course I'll do it. You should have mentioned something from the start. But I don't exactly have a flawless history here. They'll be sure to find out about my dismissal from the Ministry. And my family..."
Oliver tried to quell his smile, his heart seemingly swelling at the shock of Percy's agreement. He shook his head. "No, no. Don't worry about that, Perce! That'll be only a mere detail." He wasn't exactly certain of that answer but at the moment the only coherent thought he could string together was: percy-will-do-it-percy-will-do-it.
"My colleagues will probably wonder why I haven't mentioned you."
"Just use the same reasons I did."
"Back to my family, they'll--"
"We'll deal with them when the time comes."
"So, we'll just pretend we've been together?"
"Hey, who do you know better?" Oliver flashed him a smile.
Percy chuckled. "Very few people, I can assure you." He patted Oliver's knee, reaching for another biscuit.
Oliver tried to ignore the puzzled feeling upon hearing that. It almost sounded like a double entendre – except Percy wouldn't have meant that! He cleared his throat. "We can just make up a history or something. Like we got together after you attended one of my games here. And we just kept it quiet."
"That's certainly plausible. What about your other boyfriends?"
"Oh, well…" Oliver trailed off, trying desperately to control the oncoming flush. "I don't really date that much. And certainly not seriously! That won't be an issue. Er- what about you?"
Percy shook his head, his hair waving wildly. "Don't worry about it. Only the occasional date here and there."
"Oh?" Oliver asked, his curiosity peaked. Percy shot him an inquisitive look and Oliver immediately took up another biscuit, appearing to find it's layers much more interesting than hearing the answer.
Why the hell should I care who he's dated?"Nothing serious, Ol."
Oliver let out a big sigh. "Oh, good!" He stopped, clearing his throat. "I mean, good for our situation. Right now. Here. Ahem." He looked at his wrist though he wore no watch. "It's getting pretty late in the day. I don't suppose we should go over things right now? Or did you want to go back to my place and--?" And what, Wood? Build a fort out of your furniture and bed sheets?
"Can we leave it go until tomorrow? I've an entire pile of papers to grade by early tomorrow morning. I'm free after lunch, though." He had gestured to another door out of the living room, one that Oliver supposed to be his office. "It'll be pretty straightforward, I'm certain. We already know so much about each other, I doubt a lot has changed in the past few years."
Oliver stopped himself from mentioning the condition of the yard that was so unlike Percy's high school persona. But – Didn't the wizard-teaching planner strike through his grading? Didn't he say he only has one class?
Before he could ask, Percy added, "And we'll just fill in the blanks, so to speak, until all is settled down. Then we'll break off in a couple of weeks. Piece of cake."
"Yeah," Oliver nodded, though he felt his chest sink a bit at the thought. He didn't want to look that far ahead into the future. One thing at a time. "Perfect. Er- Let's make some plans for tomorrow, then. And we should floo Dave and Henry to bring back your dog."
"Our dog," Percy corrected, raising his eyebrows.
Oliver chuckled heartily, more from relief over Percy's comment than anything else. "Always wanted one, Perce."
Percy sat back, crossing his legs casually, balancing his teacup on one knee. "He'll take to you, Ol. You always were good with animals, anyways. Why, do you remember when--"
The shrill of a muggle telephone broke off Percy's words, and Oliver watched him dive for the receiver under the dog cushion. This is some filing system, he thought wryly, watching as his former roommate – no, current boyfriend, spoke to the operator.
Oliver sat back on the couch, feeling comfortable enough to lift his feet onto the coffee table. He let his head rest on the back cushion, his earlier nervousness long vanished and a calm having settled over him in its place. And yet a sharp, rich feeling of euphoria was also racing through this tranquility.
Because Oliver was excited! He'd been pushed beyond his limits, out of his 'zone' of comfort, and now this was interesting. This was Percy back in his life. Everything was suddenly good and right and just like Hogwarts without curfews or grownups and there was a dog to play with and Dave has Henry to be distracted with and who gives a damn about All Things Quidditch when your best friends were around and you had the world on a string--
Except… Does he really have papers to grade tonight? And what does 'J…' mean? Will he tell me if I ask?Percy's raised voice brought him out of his thoughts.
"Ron, listen to me! It's not that big of a deal…. I sorry that I didn't say anything sooner, but Oliver and I wanted to keep our relationship quiet until we felt we could come forward--…. Of course that included family, both his and my own, no exceptions…. Seeing us? Perhaps that can wait until the public has settled down a bit… Look, I'm—Ron! Ron!… Lord," He muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. He caught Oliver looking at him, and he returned a sheepish smile, explaining, "He's gone to put my mother on the phone."
Oliver nodded, knowingly. "I've already dealt with mine by floo. If I was any younger, she'd have grounded me until my grandchildren were flying their first broom!"
"I wouldn't put it past my mother to do that at any age--" Percy's attention was suddenly diverted back to the receiver. "Mum! Stop yelling! Mum, it's not that big of a deal…"
CRACK!
Oliver startled.
In the middle of Percy's living room –actually, on the top of his coffee table, Oliver noticed in horror, Henry, Dave and Monty appeared, sending stacks of books onto the floor.
"What the hell?" He stood quickly.
Henry jumped off the table. Monty had already recognized where he landed and, quick as lightening, raced over to join Percy.
Oliver scratched the back of his neck, still in shock. "How did you two know to get here?"
Still standing on the table, Dave brought a hand to his head. "Where did you think I sent the owl to this morning? Charlie told me months ago. Besides, it's on the mutt's tag. Oliver, don't just stand there. Give me a hand, eh?"
"Mutt?" Oliver questioned, looking at Henry. He ignored Dave's outstretched hand.
Henry jerked a thumb at Dave. "Don't mind him. He's cranky because Monty ate his mid-afternoon snack."
"An entire sandwich!" Dave jumped off the table, having recovered his nerves. He eyed the home carefully (and, Oliver noticed, with a similar degree of surprise as he himself had earlier).
"In the papers already," Percy muttered, almost to himself, as he hung up on the phone. He looked up and blinked, as though experiencing a delayed reaction to the newest arrivals. He chuckled as Monty jumped up on him, and he leaned in for a cuddle. "Did you say he ate your sandwich? Yeah, you have to watch that, Dave. You fellows want some tea? Have a seat while I go put on the kettle and feed Monty." He nodded at the Quidditch players before turning into the kitchen, the dog quick on his heels.
"Did he just say he was going to feed the dog? Did he not hear about my sandwich?" Dave shook his head in disgust.
"Dav-id," Oliver warned.
Henry was looking at the photographs that scattered the fireplace. "Percy's brothers are hot," he muttered, taking one family portrait closer to the light.
Oliver threw him a glance that went unnoticed. "Of course," he said distractedly, looking towards the kitchen. "They all look like him."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Henry and Dave exchange a glance. Dave cleared his throat. "And are we a couple yet?"
Oliver grunted, trying not to make a big deal out of Percy's agreement.
"So he agreed to it, eh?" Henry placed the photograph back in its spot. "Just like that?"
"Well," Oliver shrugged, not understanding what his friend's dry tone meant. "Percy was always a sensible fellow. It was just the logical course of action, really."
"He wouldn't have a choice, anyways," Dave shook his head. He sat on the couch, not minding the books. "It's already hit the afternoon editions of the big papers. It's on all the muggle-wizard stations. They've already mentioned his situation at the Ministry."
"And?" Oliver asked quickly.
"The press is pretty good about it so far, no real bias in the afternoon editions. I was talking to your fan club," Henry continued, joining Dave on the chair (albeit more careful of the books). Oliver winced at the mention of his legions of screaming fans as Henry continued, "They think it's cool. Apparently adds to his mystique. Something about independence and standing on his own two feet, and admitting he's wrong without stubbornness. Your fan-girls are going crazy, fan-girling over him too. I think it's the hair, really."
"He's really well-liked at Puddlemere School," Dave added, his eyes still looking around the home. "They've already done interviews with some young students. Can't say enough good things about him. And apparently he really does talk about you in class, so it makes your relationship all the more believable."
Oliver breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was falling into place.
"This place just doesn't seem like him though, does it?" Dave continued, though he spoke low, seemingly to himself. "No wonder, though. All things considered."
"What things?" Oliver inquired, sitting back down on the couch.
"I can't imagine the pay is too great for a part-time teacher that has a few Ministry violations against him. Oliver, it's possible that Percy's been paying fines in lieu of jail time or something," Henry supplied. He was casually flipping through one of the books.
"Jail time?" Oliver said horrified.
Dave nodded. "Jail time. Oliver, there's a reason why few people go against the Ministry's position. At least in public. You're lucky that your fan-girls aren't holding it to him. Just another change that--"
"Change?" Oliver looked at his two friends warningly. The jail time bit was surprising to him but he supposed that he'd been hanging around muggle-friendly Puddlemere and America rather than the metropolitan wizarding world lately, forgetting about the strong prejudices that remained. As for changes… well, yes, of course Oliver knew that there would be certain changes to be made; but he was growing more and more resentful of being forced into such situations. Why couldn't Dave and Henry just leave him and Percy alone, to figure things out themselves?
"Yeah, changes. The hair for one thing--"
"Lay off the hair, Dave. I think it looks sexy," Henry said, folding his arms and giving an abrupt nod.
" Yeah, you and Ollie's fan-girls. I'll get scissors to his head before this week is over, mark my words!" Dave glared back at him. "As for other changes… Well, the press won't believe that you two live… here," He gestured around the room. Though his tone turned gentle, he had a glint in his eyes that Oliver knew to mean he was serious.
"Why not?" Percy had walked into the room with a tray of steaming mugs. Oliver felt a pinch of embarrassed, of shame, as he watched him hand the tea to Dave and Henry, and then stand back expectantly. "This is my home. And Monty--"
"Is allowed at the apartment- er, flat," Henry finished, taking a sip of his tea. "I checked. The doorman particularly liked him. He says that he often walks the dogs for the residents. Er – nice tea, by the way."
"Your flat?" Percy spurted, turning to face Oliver. "No, I-I can't. It's just--" He stopped, placing a hand over his tired face. "I'm sorry, it's all so much, so soon. I know that it has to be done to get you through this, Ol. But isn't there some way we can be--"
"It's all right, Perce," Oliver quickly reassured him, glaring at his teammates. "I don't want to force you through this. I'm really am grateful that--"
"I know, I know," Percy took his hand off his face, giving him a reassuringly smile (that was anything but to Oliver). "I'm sorry. I'm just not use to--"
"It'll still be your home," Henry interjected softly, leaning forward on his knees. "Don't you worry 'bout that. Why, it's so far in the woods here, I doubt anyone could ever find it. But if they did, you and Oliver could always say it was your home away from home. So to speak."
"And in the meantime, I'm certain Monty wouldn't mind the city for a bit. A little change of pace," Dave adding, smiling softly. It wasn't a condescending expression but one of hope and friendship, and for his normally brash friend to go to such length to be gentle, Oliver felt overwhelmed with gratitude. "Besides, Henry and I live there as well. Mind you, our apartments aren't as spacious or grand as Oliver Wood, Keeper Extraordinaire, but we'd love to have you hang with us during the team's hiatus."
Percy smiled at Dave's humoring tone but he turned to face Oliver quizzically, as though silently asking permission.
Oliver smiled, nodding at him. "What'd you say to being my boyfriend? Somewhat retroactively for oh… I suppose, a couple years?" He spoke with humor but still struggled to conceal the anxiety that had been racing through him throughout their meeting.
Percy laughed, shaking his head. His wild curls sprung loose, framing his face, and as they moved, Oliver could see the stress, the tension, leave Percy's body. It wasn't until that moment he realized how much effort Percy had placed into this meeting, and how much of a testament to their past friendship this outcome had proved, that he'd actually agreed to take up residence with this foolish lot.
Flat 3-B, Puddlemere EstatesBedroom. Near Midnight.
Though Oliver wanted to stay with Percy that evening, he understood the responsibilities of a 'normal' job and (somewhat grudgingly) allowed Henry and Dave to Apparate home with him. He also knew that Percy probably needed some Alone Time, to sit back and reflect on the events of the day, and to try to sort through their future charades on his own terms.
At least, that's what Oliver assumed he'd be doing this night. After all, that was what he had been reflecting on.
And while Percy appeared to favor his living room and would probably be there right now, Oliver supposed, he himself preferred a dark, cold corner of his small guest bedroom, so far removed from the harsh-lit, modern deco of his flat. This bedroom – his bedroom, wasn't even the largest of the apartment. There was a single bed and nightstand in the room, and no cupboard space beyond a small cubbyhole behind one carelessly hung picture.
Despite this small space, Oliver loathed having visitors when he'd have to disclose that this room was, indeed, his own. Not that they'd believe him: "Oh, no Oliver! I couldn't take the master bedroom. I don't care what you say, no one would ever sleep in here if they had the choice!" But they didn't understand the attraction of the room, the one room that happened to have the largest bay window, overlooking much of Puddlemere metro and beyond, to the distant forest and hills.
And this night, as he stared out the largest window with the blinds open just so, it hadn't escaped his thought that Percy could very well live in the exact direction he was looking.
As he eyes followed the patterns of twinkling stars, he lay propped up on his pillows, an arm dangling over his head. He'd left Percy hours ago but already he was wondering what he was doing, how his papers were going. What would he have been doing if I hadn't asked him to help me today? Would he have gone out with friends? Or out by himself? Would he have just gone for a walk around the block and called it a day before retiring to his papers? Did he even have papers to grade? What – rather, who is 'J'? And if Percy had plans tonight with 'J', why wouldn't he have just said something? Oliver felt a tinge of jealousy at the thought that Percy could be out with another man right now. No, he wouldn't be. Not after agreeing to play this role. Not that the idea of Percy dating bothers me--
Ring! Ring!
The muggle phone next to his bed jingled, startling him up.
But just as his hand hovered over the receiver, he paused. It wouldn't do him any good to answer a call from journalists, asking more inane questions, or even his teammates, coaxing him and Percy out for the night. He certainly wasn't in the mood to talk to Henry and Dave again, as nothing ever good seemed to come from their advice. Like a tunneling spiral of trouble, Oliver thought.
On the other hand, today he found out that a certain someone had a similar muggle phone and therefore could be calling --
"Hullo!" he said sharply, picking up the phone before he could finish the thought.
"Oliver! Where the hell have you been?"
"Oh, Mom," he choked. Of all people… He reached over the bed and turned on the light, rubbing his eyes to adjust to the brightness.
She clucked her tongue. "Is it true?"
"Is what true, Mom?"
"Your boyfriend. Is it-- Is it that Weasley one? It's been all over the evening papers."
Oliver stiffened. "Er-- Yes, Mom." Breath in, breathe out. "Percy's my… My boyfriend."
His mother didn't hesitate. "And you're embarrassed by him?"
Olive said quickly, "Of course not!"
"Embarrassed by me, then? By your mother?"
"Lord! Mom, of course not!"
"Then you tell him that your mother's going to beat her son around the ears for not bringing him by sooner! Honestly Oliver! Sometimes I wonder about you."
If one could hear a smile, Oliver would have sworn that he just did.
"Mom?"
"What?"
"I love you."
She chuckled. "Good night, Oliver. Say goodnight to Percy for me as well. You two get a good night's sleep now." And she hung up the phone.
Oliver gaped, still holding the phone receiver to his ear.
For some reason he couldn't fathom, it never occurred to him that having Percy as his pretend boyfriend meant that people would assume their relationship was in any way a physical, sexual relationship.
Oliver slept very little that night.
- - To Be Continued