Special thanks to Nichol for the beta (she's a very lovely person who writes here under GeorgeandFredWeasley, so please check her stuff out :). And many thanks to everyone who read and reviewed Chapter 2. Again, I tried to respond to everyone that had an e-mail address. A review is always unexpected and they were all quite nice, so thank you very much!

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Warner Bros. own Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Chapter 3: Of Friendship (1)

Students usually remained in the Great Hall long past supper to participate in the daily gossip roundtable, first dishing amongst their housemates and later moving freely about the tables. Since the beginning of his first year as prefect, Percy was very much relieved to discover the majority of students stayed away from the dorms. For a brief time, he could escape the crowd and questions, concentrating on his personal responsibilities rather than others.

Hearing Oliver's heavy footsteps close behind, Percy gathered the front of his robe in fists and quickened his step, his breath deepening. No matter the amount of time he spent patrolling (and truth be told, getting lost) in these halls, he still minded the silence and haunted atmosphere of the school. His eyes flickered along the walls, trying to detect any sign of trouble. As usual, small candles lined the corridor walls, casting eerie shadows along the way to Gryffindor Tower. All classroom doors were closed and bolted, and a deep chill had set in through the darkened hallways.

"Damn it! Slow down, Perce. They're not following us," Oliver said, pausing at the top of the staircase.

Leaning against a railing, Percy gasped for breath, coughing hard. He felt a large hand rest on his back in a comforting gesture. Steadying his hands on his knees, he glanced up. "The walk a little-" wheeze "-too hard for the Quidditch player here?"

Oliver gestured from himself to the redhead, as though proving their athletic differences, and said (whilst breathing regularly, Percy noticed), "Just worried about you, Perce. The rate you're going, the team will have to carry you practice. And after what you did back there-"

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, Percy steadied himself against the brute Scot. "A confrontation in front of the faculty wouldn't have been your best idea, Ol."

Brown eyes flash with annoyance, and Percy found himself readjusting his glasses to avoid his stare.

"My best idea? What about you? You're the head boy." As if to emphasize this, Oliver pointed a finger at the badge. "Weren't you going to do something about it?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'd do my best right before I'm knocked out."

"That's because I'd be the one to knock-"

"Boys, boys!"

Oliver and Percy looked blankly at one another as arms wrapped around their shoulders from behind, bringing them together in a sort of group hug. "Playing hero again, huh, Perce?"

Percy rolled his eyes and shook his shoulders, dropping Dave's arm. He noticed Oliver did the same, crossing his own, and standing side-by-side with him. "What are you doing here, Dave?"

The blond-haired boy raised his palms open in a gesture of peace. "Hanging out with my best friends, that's what. Looks like things got a little tense back there. Thought I'd catch up and see how you two were doing."

"And we appreciate that," Oliver said dryly.

"Should. Especially since I had to run to catch up to you two. What is that, Perce, some sort of head-boy step? Seriously, Ol, you two keep this up and Ravenclaw will have no problem beating you guys at the next game."

Oliver unfolded his arms and chuckled, "Corridors aren't the problems. But try keeping up with him on stairs. It's like ballet."

Percy cleared his throat and started to walk away, certainly not wanting to get into that conversation again. Straightening his back, he called behind him, "Keep up! We don't have much time before your practice. And I think we may have bigger problems on our hands than Slytherins."

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy watched Dave fall into step with him. "Like what?"

"The charm. At least, I think that's it. Didn't you notice the professors staring at us?"

"No more than anyone else. Any-"

Oliver cut in between them, turning his head sideways to address Percy. "A bit, yeah. McGonagall was staring during dinner but she didn't look overly concerned. Interested, maybe. And curious."

Percy nodded slowly, not sure how to interpret Oliver's information. She was the heart of academy, and any new use of magic would interest her. But if an advanced witch such as herself was 'curious' about their assignment- "I think- I think we may need to talk to Flitwick tomorrow. Dave and I are in his Advanced Charms class-"

"I'm shocked," Oliver muttered, though his tone was not without humor.

"And whatever that charm produced - vortex, fog, I don't know – it didn't seem part of a normal bonding ritual. We can get some books from the library tomorrow. I'm there for tutoring anyways."

Percy heard, rather than saw, Dave slapped Oliver on the back. "That means you'll be there, too, Ol."

Pausing in front of the Fat Lady portrait, Percy turned in time to see his friends exchange smiles and felt the corners of his mouth turn up. He developed an early appreciation for Dave, the self-described 'third-wheel,' as he found humor in any situation, from tests to Quidditch games to troubles with girls –and guys. Nothing was ever as hard as it seemed when the three of them were together. Except, of course, when Gryffindor was playing against Ravenclaw.

A throat cleared and a small voice called out, "When were you going to notice I wasn't around, Dave?"

The trio turned to see Karen hurrying down the hall, struggling to hold a stack of thick books. Her short, brown hair bounced as she walked, the glare from the candlelight shining off her glasses.

Dropping the books into Dave's waiting hands, she placed her own on her hips and looked pointedly at Percy and Oliver. "You left your books back there. Honestly! You three should have been bonded together. I certainly wouldn't mind." She turned to Percy and Oliver. "And what are you guys going to do about what happened back there?"

Trust Karen, Percy thought wryly, and he could feel Oliver's eyes watching him. He eyed Karen wearily. "Nothing. What else should we expect from this assignment? If that's the worse they can throw-"

"Worse? Perce, what's it going to take-"

"Hey!" Oliver cut Dave off, glaring at him. "Let's just leave this one go, alright?"

Karen looked pointedly at Dave, pushing him aside in a playful (though, Percy thought, perhaps bruising) gesture. "And you're putting up with this?"

"'Course Not," he said, sounding as though he were trying to convince himself. He straightened his back and folded his arms, preparing (Percy thought) to defend himself against his friends.

But as he met their gaze, he let a smile drift to his face.

Karen groaned, lifting her hands to her waist, palms up. Her expression was cross but her eyes showed her amusement. "Honestly! Percy, Oliver. If anything happens, we want to know about it. You'll tell us, right? Right?"

"Sure, Karen. Don't worry," Oliver squeezed her shoulder and, seeing Karen's mock scowl, quickly retracted his hand.

"We'll see you two later in the Prefect's Lounge, right?"

Percy shook his head. "No, Oliver's got practice. But I'm putting Hermione in charge for tonight. You guys will keep an eye on her, right?"

Dave nodded. 'Sure thing. I'll also keep an eye on Penelope for you."

Percy jolted, staring at Dave in surprise. He'd completely forgotten about meeting Penelope at the Prefect's lounge. And Adam, he reasoned. Yes, he'd probably be there as well. Realizing that Dave had come to the same conclusion, he nodded curtly, though his fingers resumed fidgeting with the front of his robe.

He felt a firm hand lay on his shoulder and heard Oliver say in his familiar way, "'appreciated. Guess we'll see you guys tomorrow then."

Reshuffling the books in his arms, Dave managed a slight wave before placing an awkward arm around Karen and walking down the corridor. Watching the couple walk together, Percy sighed and turned to see Oliver watching him intently, his eyes sympathetic and understand. Nodding towards the portrait, the redhead couldn't help wondering how much understanding he would need from his friends before this assignment ended.

By the time the seventh-years reached their dorm floor, both set straight for their beds and collapsed wordlessly from exhaustion. Percy and Oliver were the only seventh-years, enjoying a large room that allowed a significant amount of privacy. A small fireplace (pathetic really, Oliver mused to himself as his eyes drifted over the room) was set against the back wall, and a couple of old torn couches were placed in a semi-circle around the hearth, fashioning the room like a 'junior-sized' common room of sorts.

Seventh-years were given more responsibility, the most obvious being the strict tidying of their room in accordance to house elf standards. The fire had to be stoked by students, and the threat of suspension for use other than fire was repeated often. With no girls, this year was set to be the first that no seventh-year Gryffindor didn't try to floo into the girls' dormitory. Actually, Oliver thought as he rested his hands comfortably together on his chest, there were few high jinks with Percy to mark their time here. He sighed. Sometimes the benefits of having just one roommate, even one that was your best friend, had come with too high a cost.

Oliver looked over and saw Percy now sitting at his desk, his chair only half-turned as he wrote at a comfortable slant. His feet were crossed and bent under the seat, his head hanging down close to the parchment.

If Oliver had learned one thing during their time together, it was that conversation was never an option when Percy was in thought. With this in mind, he grabbed the broom cleaning kit from under his bed, sat upright and began setting out the supplies to polish his gear.

He felt the muscles in his back relax as he weaved a comb through the bristles, releasing a small cloud of dust that quickly dissipated. Uncapping his most expensive pre-polish, he began to scrub the handle, concentrating on making each stroke even and heavy. The room was silent, as it usually was when they were working on their separate interests, and the Scot found himself doing what he usually did in times such as this – he stared at the back of Percy's head.

He really is more comfortable than most people think he is, Oliver reflected as he grabbed a fresh cloth from the kit. Percy allowed the Quidditch team to meet in this room, as he was often in the library and the chances of an espionage-related charm getting past the Fat Lady and up the tower were nil. For his part, Oliver also gave Percy some quiet time in the room. Especially on occasions when he would find Percy and Penelope studying on his bed and – as subtle as the outcome of a Weasley twin prank – he would blurt out that he was spending the night elsewhere (usually the couch in the common room). Though he thought he came off obvious, he never felt too comfortable seeing, much less encouraging, heterosexual copulation habits. Especially in his room.

Pushing his chair out noisily, Oliver watched as Percy walked their window and waved his wand quickly, muttering a foreign charm. Three owls appeared, and he tied several pieces of rolled parchment to their legs, sending them off with a pat on each of their heads. Hermes cooed in the corner, rattling the cage, but Percy ignored him, resumed his seat, and continued to write feverishly.

Suddenly he turned as though to say something, when he noticed Oliver looking at him and stopped.

Caught. Oliver gave a smile, holding up his broomstick. "All done. Now I'm bored."

Percy matched his smile, fiddling with his quill. "Like your broom really needed to be polished. Probably be best if I forget that you just did that this morning. Er… I'm almost finished here as well, just writing a quick note to home."

Oliver began to recap his polish bottles. "Things all settled for Hermione?"

Percy focused remained on the parchment and the quill that continued to write. "Hope so. I've written down some duties for her."

"She's young."

Percy looked over his shoulder and nodded, looking deep in thought. After a moment, he said, "Perhaps a little too young for this, but I've already owled the other prefects and delegated some duties to them. She'll only be in charge of Gryffindor prefect duties. It is a bit extensive. But it'll look great on her transcript."

Oliver stood and walked over to his desk, peering over Percy's shoulder at the list. He estimated its length at about one and a half-feet. "You do this every night? On top of everything else?" He felt suddenly very foolish, as though he only just realized that Percy – head boy Percy, not best friend Percy– was reorganizing his schedule to suit his needs. All over a team practice. Of course, it was never just another term practice. Oliver looked at his roommate, who had twisted in his seat and tilted his head upwards to watch him.

He met the gaze, watching not only his eyes but also his expression and facial features. Percy breathed out heavily, his breath warm, and Oliver detected the scent of apples that seemed to pull him in closer. As though he were watching a movie, he heard himself say, in a voice lower than a common whisper, "Not even your brothers have this many freckles, Perce."

Realizing what he said, Oliver jerked up, dizzy, his heart soaring to his throat. He hadn't meant to say that! He hadn't meant to say anything at all. And to sound as though… He opened his mouth to say something, anything, as an excuse.

But it was Percy that spoke softly, not having moved away but instead smiled kindly at him. "Ol, I know Quidditch is important to you. I'm not sure if I can manage this often, but perhaps we can work out a better schedule for tomorrow?" He raised his eyebrows, questioningly. A part of Oliver's mind, somewhere just about the surface of conscious thought, registered that there was a slight drop in Percy's normally flawless accent, now blending words together easily instead of pointedly. A part of him also noticed Percy's head still tilting upwards, looking at him almost upside-down, something like Cedric Diggory's did at last year's holiday Quidditch party. Right before-

The intense release at realizing Percy hadn't heard him came rushing through Oliver's body and, steadying himself on the back of his chair, he gave a tight smile. Blue eyes continued to stare intently at him, watching as he tried to back away slowly, casual-like. And when a knock suddenly rapped at the door, Oliver took his chance and walked hurriedly towards a chair, yelling in relief, "It's open!"

The door burst open loudly, revealing all the current Weasley residents with Harry and Hermione in tow. They were in the midst of a conversation and laughing as they made their way to the couches around the fireplace.

Ginny sat next to Oliver and, smiling at her, he asked, "For what do we owe the honor of this visit?"

The twins sat across from him and exchanged mischievous grins.

"Well, if it isn't-"

"The happy couple! We would have brought you a housewarming gift-"

"But seeing as we weren't invited to the wedding-"

"You can go bugger-!"

"George!" Percy bellowed from his chair, catching Oliver's gaze and rolling his eyes.

Ron sat to the other side of him. "So, are you two really married for the week? Seriously?" he asked, eying Oliver suspiciously.

"Er… Well…"

"Not exactly. No, Ron. Not in any professional binding ceremony," Percy spoke up from the desk. "Er… I assume. But we do have charms placed on us for special evaluation purposes."

"Yes, yes, we already know that," Ron nodded, his gaze resting on the floor between the boys, seemingly in deep thought. "But what we all want to know is – do you get extra points for kisses? Sharing the same bed? Holding hands under the dinner-?"

Not a whole week of this, Oliver mused, before tackling him to the couch in a playful gesture. Fred and George, though doubled over in laughter, tried to pry him off their brother. Oliver gave his shoulders a shake, getting out of the Wesley's' grasp and said, "Really, guys. No matter how much you beg, we won't be doing any of that to distract everyone from whatever disaster your pranks have caused!"

Just as he thought the twins were getting ready for a smart reply, Harry spoke up. "Hey, Ol? We actually came here to tell you that all the Slytherin teammates got detention earlier today and-"

"Wait!" Percy held up his hand to stop him from continuing. "You mean that all the Slytherins have received detention? From what happened earlier?"

"No," Fred sighed, exchanging a look with George. "They stole a rare potion concoction from Snape-"

"That transforms animagi into rodents for three month periods the next time they resume form-"

"And they were caught handing it to McGonagall in her teacup with dessert, and-"

"She insisted on detention. Snape gave them 100 points though, for their Slytherin-like approach to getting out of their term assignments."

"That'll at least make things easier on the prefects tonight," Percy said, and sitting on the edge of his bed, Oliver wondered if his roommate had missed the potential severity of that situation. He watched him turn to Hermione and say, "Are you still up for this?"

She flushed. "Oh, yes, Percy! Er- Head Boy. Percy. Head Boy Percy."

Ron burst out laughing, Percy and Oliver exchanging an amused expression. "It's ok, Hermione. Relax. You're the best Gryffindor for the job."

"Ouch!" the twins said simultaneously, though they grinned at her.

Percy gave them a mock glare. "As I was saying, they can be rowdy, so I don't want you to do these rooms yourself. Take Ron with you, all right?"

It was an interesting contrast, Oliver thought, watching Hermione open her mouth as though to object and Ron blinking at his brother in surprise.

"I'd ask her to take you as well, Harry," Percy continued, "but I'm certain your captain would have my head if I were to keep his seeker from getting a good night's sleep."

"Damn right," Oliver muttered good-naturedly.

Fred nudged George, smirking. "You know, married couples."

"Don't tease them, Fred. I hear making-up is the fun part."

"Anyway," Harry hurriedly chimed in, looking at the seventh-years pointedly, making sure he had their attention. "Since the Slytherins are in detention, we can have their practice time on the pitch. They're suppose to have it now, so-"

A surge of energy raced through his body, propelling the captain to his feet. "Why didn't you say so, Harry? Come on! Get moving, guys. Get the others, and hit the field!"

Watching the others hurriedly race out the door, Oliver felt Percy's eyes on him. "I'll carry your knapsack, Ol. You have enough to handle already."

Grateful that the twins weren't in the room to hear his roommate's offer, Oliver flashed him a smile and began to zipper his broom case. Already his mind was focused on the plays needed against Slytherin for Wednesday's game, and he barely heard Percy's voice amongst his own thoughts.

"Thanks again, Hermione. You're going to make a great prefect. Er- Ron, you don't mind helping her, do you? It'd look great for you, too, and the fifth years really can be-"

From the corner of his eye, Oliver saw Ron wave a hand. "It's all right. Hey, it might just be fun. I'd go anyways, whether you asked me or not."

"As long as you understand," Hermione started, her tone sharp, "that I'm allowing you to accompany me because you're my friend, not because I need-"

Voices faded as the third-years made their way out the door. Catching his roommate's eye and nodding, Oliver handed over his knapsack and juggled the broomstick, playbook and Quidditch gear in his arms. Hermione's voice still echoed to their room, her pointed words reminding him of Percy's own 'head-boy voice' (as Dave would often describe it).

Clipping the light switch off with his shoulder, Oliver's mind wandered back to their earlier conversation before the others appeared, suddenly remembering how casual and comfortable Percy sounded, and how his quiet words seemed to draw him closer. Which wasn't surprising, he reasoned, as he was always like that with Oliver. And yet, he couldn't help but wonder if his friend ever spoke like that in front of Penelope. Or had it been just-

Oliver shook his head, glancing at Percy over his shoulder. He'd be glad when he could finally put this long day behind him.

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Next Time: Quidditch practice and the end of this first day (finally!)