Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews to the last chapter (and the suggestions!) – they were much appreciated (as always!) especially those who have commented on each one. Here's the latest chapter (aka the one that kicked my ass) – we're moving forward but still very slowly.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter & Co, nor do I claim to. Dave & Karen are mine.
Notes: Like the beer ad proclaims - I. Am. Canadian. Please take this story with the light-hearted naivety of someone who enjoys the idea of Percy and Oliver together, even in a British school that's somewhat (very) 'Canadian-ized.'
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Chapter 5: A Rough Start (Day 2)
The winter sun wouldn't appear until seven or eight o'clock in the morning, long after both Percy and Oliver were dressed and headed towards their respective classes. But even before Oliver cracked an eye open, just before his roommate's God-forsaken, Stonehenge-era alarm clock blared at six, he knew this wouldn't be an ordinary school morning. Today was Day Two (is it really only Tuesday?) that he'd have to act with Percy in a mock marriage exercise of man and er- other man.
He heard the rustle of Percy's sheets and tightening his eyes shut, Oliver pretended to still be asleep as he scurried by. Not for the first time, Percy had flung his robe out in an attempt at decency over his pajamas, the edge hitting Oliver's pillow. He felt his hair lift from the breeze, the familiar scent of used textbooks and old parchment washing over his face. All of which, he knew, Percy kept under his bed as he never seemed able to part with anything. Chalk another benefit to growing up an only child, Oliver thought, knowing the only things under his bed were his broomstick and a variety of cleaning supplies. And Quidditch-related game books. Some old broomsticks too, actually, that he never seemed to be able to part with. And some Quidditch action figures, still in their separate collectable cases and complete with accessories. Oh, and a variety of playing cards that –
Oliver sighed. Apparently he wasn't much better than Percy at controlling his rat-packing tendencies. Especially, now that he thought about it, letting go of anything that reminded him of good times. But that was different; it wasn't as though Percy was holding onto old parchment for the same reasons. He paused in thought, remembering this was the same person who volunteered to take his old school books last year for fear of Oliver participating in the annual textbook bonfire in June. Yes, he would most definitely hang onto old parchment for sentimental reasons.
That thought gave him a smile, one that he still wore as he passed Percy in the hallway, his towel over one arm and robes over the other. Percy gave him a short nod, continuing to walk by, his step long and brisk. This was the normal morning routine between them, as Percy learned quickly that Oliver didn't think clearly until a cup of tea and a slice of toast was placed in front of him.
Most mornings, that is.
As Oliver washed quickly, his thoughts were concentrated on their conversation last night. He admitted he felt more alive and in control today, more positive towards enjoying this last year of school, than he had in a long time. Too often, it was hard (or as Percy more accurately stated, damn hard) to remain in that role he had carved for himself, the popular Quidditch captain that always pushed for the best of his teammates and himself. But since fifth year, when his housemates became aware of his dating preferences, he was subject to a kind of depression.
It wasn't a depression that a talk with McGonagall or Pomphrey could fix, or any professional for that matter. Oliver knew himself to be an intelligent young man, perhaps not as book smart as Percy or savvy as Dave but he had enough common sense to know why he felt down, not caring about his future or his friends or even, yes, Quidditch. Sometimes, it was all that he could do to push through the days, as nothing was the same as it used to be, before he was 'outed.'
And though he tried to make the most of his schooldays, living off the short highs that were becoming even scarcer, the thought always existed in the back of his mind: When's the other shoe going to drop? Who's going to come after me, after my friends, today? What if they discover I'm not this good a Keeper, that I've been just lucky for years? What if they realize-
But last night, to hear Percy's words spoken with fervor and laced with determination, had given him hope. And it had been a long time – too long, really, Oliver reflected, wrapping a towel around his waist – that someone had cared enough for him, felt comfortable around him, to say such blunt words that he so desperately needed to hear.
He felt- like himself. Like myself, he repeated silently.
His features fogged over from the steam, Oliver could barely make out his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He knew that only when the steam cleared, he'd be able to see the bruises from Quidditch games. And the leftover, almost-faded scars from his encounters with students, their only reason for attacking him being a foolish confession a few years prior.
And yet, truly, Oliver was content. Calm had enveloped his body, giving him a source of confidence he hadn't felt in a lot time. He'd been through a difficult period and now was strong enough to look back through experienced eyes. He felt older, sure, but also weathered and strong.
Shaking his head at his foolish thoughts and giving a soft laugh, he quickly dried and changed into his clothes, not wanting to remain in the bathroom when the younger years awoke.
Upon opening his room door his attention was drawn to Percy fluffing a pillow. He watched as his roommate stood back, his hand on his chin as though deep in thought, and then moved the pillow over a few inches.
Laughing as he threw his pajamas in the heap of blankets on his own disheveled bed, Oliver startled him by saying, "You know, I won't tell if you put the pillow off a few inches. Our little secret."
He was shot a deadpan stare that traveled deliberately from his eyes to his bed before Percy resumed smoothing out his blanket.
"I get it, Perce," he said in an amused voice, turning his attention to making his own bed. He cleared his throat. "Hey? I- well, I-"
He felt a tug on his blanket and, looking up, saw that Percy had moved from his bed to help Oliver make his. "Yeah, Ol?" he said, his voice soft but his eyes bright, reminding Oliver just how much of a morning person he really was.
Oliver busied himself with tucking in his end as his roommate did the same to the other. "I want to thank you for last night. I'd never had- I mean, to have someone that, you know, would- And today, I feel so much more-" He sighed, finally looking at Percy's face and, seeing a knowing smile, matched his expression.
Percy gave a shrug, finishing with his corner and grabbing the pillows off the floor. "I didn't mean to be pretentious. It's just-" He sighed deeply, then said quietly, "Sometimes, thinking about life like that, it's the only way I can get through my days here."
Oliver nodded, though he doubted his roommate had seen him. "I do appreciate it, Perce. Just what I needed."
"You'd do the same for me," Percy said, continuing quickly as though he knew he would be interrupted. "You always do. It's just – sometimes, I think you don't realize it. I'm sorry, this isn't coming out right. But… you understand."
Oliver's smile deepened and as he reached for the pillow from Percy, their hands brushed together, unmoving. He just couldn't seem to take his eyes away from-
"Did you get that all, Fred?"
Oliver's head snapped towards the doorway, dropping his end of the pillow. Fred and George stood together, a notebook and pen in each of their hands, still dressed in their own matching (and tattered) pajamas and looking at them as though they were examining a curious science experiment.
Which wasn't far from the truth, Oliver thought grimly as he remembered the assignment. Why couldn't they look this awake during the early morning Quidditch practices?
"So, I don't suppose you wish to confess what exactly occurred last night that you're thankful for, Captain Wood?" Fred said in a serious voice, his pen poised on the notebook as though he were working for the Daily Prophet.
"And what precisely, Mr. Weasley-"
"That's Head Boy Weasley, George," Fred interrupted, pointing his pen at his brother before resuming his note taking.
"My apologies. Head Boy Weasley. What precisely does Captain Wood do to you that he doesn't even realize?"
Oliver turned to face Percy, biting his bottom lip to keep from smiling. In his newfound good mood, he couldn't help but laugh at the twins antics, even knowing that their conversation this morning would be hot news amongst the breakfast crowd.
To his surprise, Percy's eyes were also full of mirth, though the scowl on his face would suggest otherwise to those who didn't know any better. Such as Fred and George who, upon seeing their brother's expression, quickly tipped imaginary hats and ran from the room.
"I'll meet you in the Great Hall, Ol," he said, handing Oliver his pillow and grabbing his robe and books under his arm before heading out the room, presumably after the twins.
"Don't forget your Charms assignment," his voice yelled from the corridor.
Damn. He'd forgotten about that. The paper itself was finished last weekend, thanks to Percy's constant reminders (and truth be told, tutorage), but where to find it was a challenge in itself
"Just a sec, 'k Perce?" Oliver yelled over his shoulder, bending to his knees and reaching under the bed. Has to be here, has to be here. Come on, stupid piece of– Ah, here it is.
He gave a satisfied grunt as he pulled a rolled parchment from under the bed followed by half the contents of his (newly-discovered) packrat tendencies. He tossed them back under the bed, not wanting to keep his roommate waiting much longer but also not wanting to deal with that damned 'tsk' sound Percy would make if he saw the room in any sort of disarray. And what would he say, discovering the mess under this bed! Oliver threw everything back under: broken broomstick handle, souvenir snitch, photograph-
He stopped to put the photo on the top of his bed and then resumed stuffing everything else back under. Once the floor was cleaned again (with the bed now tilting a tad to the right), he stared at the picture. It had been taken at the end of his sixth year, when he and Percy were celebrating their last weekend together at Hogsmeade. The photo had been a present for Percy's birthday – rather its copy had, as Oliver couldn't part with the picture. After all, their time together would all be over soon enough.
He smiled at the images. Over the heads of Photo Dave and Photo Karen, Photo Percy and Photo Oliver were laughing together, making hand gestures behind their heads and fending off mock annoyed looks from the couple. Every few moments, they'd switch so Dave could cuddle with Karen in the corner, while Oliver and Percy spoke closely to each other, using wide arm gestures and laughing often.
One would think there were two couples in this photograph, Oliver thought amusedly.
And then-
It came to him.
Flashes of late-night chats, cups of cocoa and tea, whispered teases, comforting hugs and accidental touches that both young men stopped pulling away from long ago. Percy's unexplainable - improbable even! - relationship with Penelope. Oliver's date-less Friday nights, which – thanks to Percy's friendship – he never spent alone. And how blue eyes spoke more truth to him than even his own.
Oliver suddenly felt very ill. Perhaps it was his newfound confidence, this contentment that had finally given him a shade of inspiration in his life. Or even the charms from this assignment. Yes, that was it. Could it be-
Damn.
For whatever reason, Oliver realized, his heart pounding in his throat, he had fallen for his best friend.
--
"Fred! George!" Percy yelled, running down the hallway and, upon catching up to them, rested his hands on his knees, his breath shallow and harsh. He swallowed loudly, trying to quell the nausea that was growing in his empty stomach. "We need to talk."
A bell clanged in the distance, indicating it was half-past six, the time all younger years should be waking up.
Lord. It wasn't like Percy had anything else to do.
Coughing a little before straightening up, he watched as Fred exchanged a smile with George and start, "Actually, dear brother, we were thinking about going into the publish-"
"I don't care. I just don't care!" Percy tried to steady his breathing, knowing he was on the verge of one of his infamous panic attacks. Breath in, breath out. Lower your tone. That's it, he silently encouraged himself. "You know, you might want to think up some new material. You've already published a paper detailing my nighttime patrol route at the first of this year. Really! A little originality, please."
Both twins simultaneously rolled their eyes and crossed their arms.
"This is about Oliver. Listen, I don't care what you do to me. It's nothing worse than you already have done time and time again." He held up his hand to stop Fred from interrupting. "But there's a match tomorrow, and you know what this means to him. It means the same thing to both of you, and I'd hate for your actions now to be the cause of what might…"
Percy stopped, unsure of how much his brothers knew of Oliver's troubles with the Slytherins.
Fred caught on before he could cover his hesitancy. "You mean. You mean, they've been… I thought that stopped last year."
"Oh," George said quietly and, exchanging a look with Fred, turned to Percy and quickly said, "We don't mean anything by it. We're just-"
"I know," Percy nodded, giving his younger brothers a small smile. "But this just adds fuel to their own reasons for, well, you know, and, well. If you could keep your, er, comments, limited to-"
"No problem, Perce," George said, folding over his notebook.
Voices could be heard approaching from behind him and knowing he would have to run to make it to breakfast with Oliver, Percy nodded at the twins and rushed down the hall.
Perhaps if he'd been less eager to get to breakfast, he might have seen the puzzled looks exchanged between his brothers and heard them say:
"What do you make of that, Fred? You don't think-"
"They're friends. And you know what Percy's like." Though his voice was firm, Fred sounded more as if he were trying to convince himself rather than his brother.
George sighed. "Yeah, I do know. But this seems…"
Both brothers gave each other small smiles, not willing to voice their thoughts aloud but both silently agreeing that whatever friendship did exist between Oliver and their brother, their curiosity wasn't about to end.
As it was, Percy hadn't heard his brothers, his thoughts too concentrated on forming what to say at this morning's prefects meeting. The usual would suffice: hallway patrol, a review of the excepted students for today, an assessment of any problems from the night before.
Not for the first time, it occurred to Percy that the prestige attached with to the Head Boy was somewhat overrated.
The morning sun still yet to rise, Percy took his seat in the Great Hall and took in the surroundings. Breakfast was an informal affair at Hogwarts, and students usually showed up at different times throughout the morning, the majority arriving just before classes began at eight. Certainly very few would venture in at a quarter to seven, though early Quidditch practice usually meant the team would join him and Oliver. This morning was no exception as only school prefects sat at the house tables, even the faculty preferring to dine at their own leisure and in private.
Secretly, Percy enjoyed the independence of being in the Hall, surrounded by few of his peers, no teachers expecting him to maintain order as Head Boy. A part of him believed Oliver might feel the same way, though they never discussed why they dined so early together. It just made sense, he thought, that his only roommate and best friend would prefer to eat with a fellow seventh-year than anyone else.
Of course, that logic never applied to Dave who, Percy noticed with a sigh, still hadn't arrived at the Hall. Though he was a fellow prefect and 'quite brilliant in the idiot savant sort of way' (as Percy's often teased), he wasn't an early riser like the others. And it didn't help that as Head Boy, it was his job to make sure the prefects were gathered for their early morning meeting. Lord, how he hated repeating himself.
With a shake of his head and a small smile at this thought, Percy began buttering a piece of toast. For as long as he could remember, he had been close friends with Dave and Oliver, and the thought of their trio going in separate directions at the end of this year felt like it would break him at times. Dave, he knew, would be gone to university in America with Karen in tow. And Oliver would be traveling with some major league Quidditch team, no doubt exploring the better part of Europe and the Americas, making good money and surrounded often by crazed 'fangirls' that threw underwear at him.
As though in protest, his heart pounded.
From jealousy?
Percy scoffed at the idea. Why would he be jealous of Oliver surrounded by pretty girls? After all, he himself had Penelope. And Oliver was – well, he is gay, Percy thought, taking a bite of toast without actually tasting it. He coughed from the dryness and reached for his hot tea.
It was ignorance, really. Oliver rarely dated and, of course, he wasn't the type of guy to discuss his latest crush with his friends or actively pursue some random guy. Nor was he likely to walk around Dave and Percy, nudging them and whispering, "Ay! Check 'at guy owt. 'ice 'ite buns 'ere, huh, fellows? 'ant to get ee 'ome of 'at!"
Percy chuckled, Oliver's accent much more thicker (and quite un-Scotsman-like) in his thought than reality, creating a sort of poorly acted, American pirate persona.
"Care to share, Perce?"
He looked up from his breakfast into Oliver's brown eyes, and shaking his head, said, "Trust me. You don't want to know!"
But instead of giving his usual protest, Oliver, his cheeks flushed and his eyes now turned downcast, sat down across from him and began buttering his own toast.
It occurred to Percy that he seemed – upset? Yes, there was definitely something on Oliver's mind that wasn't there only a few minutes ago. It wasn't like him to be upset, especially over the twins' actions, but their persistence, along with the heavy Quidditch practice and their chat last night, could have been wearing him down.
Perhaps this thought would cheer him up. "I was thinking about you," he started.
Oliver's head jerked up, giving Percy a look akin to a deer caught in front of the Hogwarts' Express.
"About- About me?" he said, sharply, apprehensively. His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes startled, but Percy continued to nod his head, drawing his eyes down to his toast. This story will get his mind off the twins, he thought, finishing off a piece of the crust.
"Yes. About your accent. I was thinking about how you might say something and it came out more like a pirate. A poorly acted pirate, that is, with an American accent. I can't seem to get your dialect down." Percy looked up, his eyes belying his mischievousness. "I'll try to do it for you later."
That brought a smile to Oliver's face. "Something tells me I won't forget that. Make sure Dave's around, I'd hate to have to repeat it."
Percy rolled his eyes, taking another sip of tea.
Fiddling with his own breakfast, tearing off the crusts of bread, Oliver looked at him curiously. "Dialects interest you, don't they?"
Absentmindedly, Percy began to eat his roommate's discarded crusts, his silence encouraging his roommate to explain.
"In the room last night. When we spoke before the team arrived, I thought-" Oliver grew quiet and thoughtful, as though considering his words carefully. "Well, I thought you sounded more casual for a moment there, a bit more… Relaxed?"
Percy gave him a small smile. "Had a bit of a lisp as a child. Seemed to take forever until I was able to pronounce things correctly. Every now and then-"
"So, you consciously try to speak better? In front of me, too?" Oliver interrupted, his tone rising with surprise.
Percy shook his head slightly. "Well, not quite all the time. It's just… Practiced, you know?"
"Perce," Oliver started, leaning across the table as though about to confide a secret. He'd dropped his toast and now his hands fiddled together nervously. "I want you to know that – Well, that you don't need to feel that you have to act a certain way with me, and-"
Percy held out his hand for Oliver to stop, giving a shaky laugh and smile as to not seem rude. Oliver was his friend, his best friend, but he didn't want to be having this conversation with him – or anyone for that matter. He knew he worked hard at maintaining his image, though he never took too kindly to remembering exactly how much work was involved. He laughed more heartily and said, "Sure, Ol. Appreciate it" abruptly, making himself look busy by eying the others in the Hall.
A sight of bright yellow caught Percy's attention, and he glanced across the room at the Ravenclaw table and watched Penelope and Adam huddled together, her blond hair bobbing with laughter.
A throat cleared. "Perce. Did you catch up with the twins?"
His attention still focused on Penny, he waved an arm at the question. "They're fine. I don't think they'll be coming after us again any time soon."
"How'd you do that?"
Pause.
"Perce? Earth to Percy. What- Oh."
Percy met Oliver's eyes again, saw the sympathetic look and knew he'd been caught staring at Penelope and Adam.
"Sorry. I, er- The twins. I told them that with the other houses teasing us, we'd rather have them on our side." Not so much a lie, no.
Oliver gave another small smile. "Within reason, right?"
Percy nodded, finishing his tea.
"Excuse me. Think I'll just go over and make sure Penny'll be at the prefects lounge tonight. Then to the meeting. Meet me outside the Hall in ten minutes?" Percy said quickly, standing up and walking over towards Penelope and Adam.
On a subconscious level, it occurred to him that Oliver gave a sigh of relief when he left the table. But really, Percy had more important matters to attend than to pay attention to those which he imagined.
In a gesture far more romantic than any he ever made, Percy laid a hand on Penelope's shoulder, her blond hair in his grasp. He leaned in, kissing the back of her head and, when she jumped, whispered into her ear, "It's only me, Love. How are you making out?"
I just called Penelope Love, Percy realized, a red heat rushing to his face.
Penny looked up, her mouth already caught in mid-laughter that changed to a smile when she noticed him. Her eyes though, were quizzical, and he realized with a start that she also noticed unnatural behavior. Way to go, Perce.
Thankfully, she always was a polite girl and, instead of calling him out in front of Adam, said: "Oh, Perce! Have a seat. Adam was just telling the funniest story! Remember the prefects' picnic last May? Well, there was this Quidditch game we didn't-"
"It wasn't as though we could have helped the switch!" Adam chimed in, laughing and sharing a knowing look with Penny. "And I'm telling you, I'll never be able to walk past the Gryffindor dormitory without-"
Penny, though gasps of laughter, held out her hand, fingers splayed, as she tried to gain control of the conversation. "We're not telling it right. I'll start again, Perce. We were at-"
"Percy wouldn't want to hear that again, Pen," Adam chuckled, reaching his hand over to pat her on the wrist. "Besides, all the prefects are here."
Pen?
His fingers remained clasped around her wrist. As though they were an old married couple that knew how to stop the other before they went too far, Percy thought bitterly, his eyes not leaving their hands. He fingered the badge on his robe.
A tight smile on his face, he cleared his throat and said importantly, "Is everyone ready for this mornings' meeting? I have some issues to be discussed."
Above the voices in the Great Hall, he heard: "Oh, yes. We know all about your issues, Weasley" from the Slytherin table.
Definitely not a prefect, no.
Pretending he hadn't heard a thing, he gave Penny another smile, squeezing her other (free) hand, then stood up and caught the eyes of the other prefects. Dave had only just stumbled in, looking as though he arose from a night beneath the cafeteria tables. Their eyes met, then Percy marched purposefully to the corridor just outside the Great Hall. Finally. Familiar ground.
He clapped his hands and motioned over his head for the prefects to gather close. "There's a lot to go over today. Everyone ready?"
He noticed Adam hanging by the door, his eyes trained only on Penelope. Percy made an effort not to look his way, instead going over the mental list he'd prepared for this moment.
As he suspected, the meeting went as planned and after he'd covered the hall patrols and student exceptions, he turned to Dave who was still tucking in a shirttail under his robe. "What about last night?"
He blinked sleepily back at him and hesitated before saying, "Wha- Oh, yeah. Well, I was meeting up with Hermione, checking up on her like I told you I would, and…"
As Dave launched into an explanation that seemed to be taken word-for-word from his letter last night, Percy looked over and saw Penelope and Adam exchange smiles and small waves. Silly gestures, really, he thought. He couldn't remember ever acting in such a way except, perhaps, when they had first started dating- He shuddered and tried to bring his attention back to Dave, who had stopped talking long before Percy had thought to look his way. From behind, he heard a prefect whisper to another:
"I don't remember any other head boy giving authority to a third year."
"Well, he wasn't blinded by love now, was he?"
"Hey, if I was paired up with Wood, I wouldn't-"
Percy clapped his hands again and said, "Anything else?" He affixed his gaze purposely forward of him rather than the source of the whispers. "No? Ok, what time should we meet at the lounge tonight?"
A chorus of voices could be heard and some argument ensued, mostly concerning the fact that everyone was loaded with assignments and examinations. In fact, only two prefects other than Penny and Dave were available for the night, and, with a sigh, he agreed to work most of the night to cover all houses. As is the bane of Head Boy, he thought as he nodded in agreement, silently wondering how Oliver would take the news.
Oliver…
Penelope must have been thinking along the same lines as she immediately asked, "What about Plum's assignment? We can't just lose time because of our duties."
A knot formed in Percy's chest and he knew that he didn't have a choice in the matter: Adam would have to be there. "Of course not, Pen," he started. She raised her eyebrows at him. "-nelope."
"So, we bring them with us?" Dave asked, unable to keep the hope from his voice.
Is Penelope this hopeful, too? No, no, she's practical, Percy breathed out and cleared his throat to cover a sigh. My beautiful, practical girlfriend. "I don't think we have much choice in the matter. Anything else?"
The prefects had already begun to dissipate, the crowd of students going into the Great Hall increasing with such force as to adjourn the meeting.
He yelled, "Dismissed. I'll see you all tonight, or tomorrow. Any problems-" But Percy was quickly cut off as a wave of first-years stormed by him, unknowingly dragging him several feet before he regained his own footing. The bottom of his robe was trampled on, the sound of fabric ripping the only thing he could hear above the voices.
"Stop that! No shoving! Keep- Oh, bother," he sighed, noticing no one was paying attention. And now he'd have yet another robe to repair along with the one he ruined at the pitch the night before. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the prefects hurrying to their respective classes, not watching him.
This was not a promising start to the day and Percy leaned against the wall to catch his breath. And his bearings. He'd need them, he knew, with advanced classes taking up most of the morning. At least Dave would be with him. And he'd see Oliver probably at lunch – no, he might join him in the library for once.
Yawning, he walked over to a nearby bench, sitting down to wait for the storm of students to pass (and also where he could wait for Oliver in relative safety.)
Closing his eyes, Percy's thoughts turned to his earlier discomfort around him. It was rude, really, he scolded himself. But he disliked being reminded about how hard he worked to be this Percy Weasley, the role that takes so much effort to make him appear perfect without trying. Like everyone else was truly able to do, including Oliver. All he had to be was his friendly, jovial self. And with a successful future career as a Quidditch player, he would have his pick of women – er, men.
Percy rolled his head, loosening the muscles in his neck. He felt that similar twinge in his heart as he had earlier. It doesn't make much sense, really. Why would I be jealous of Oliver's fame with women? Men?
Unless. Unless Percy was afraid that Oliver's relationship with another man would ruin his own place in Oliver's life.
Such a foolish thought. It wasn't as though they were together and certainly not like that! That would be like Oliver being jealous of Penelope's place in his life, he reasoned.
Ridiculous!
But then, the seed planted, a part of Percy couldn't help but wonder if maybe, perhaps, Oliver did feel that way.
And why did that thought, the thought that Oliver was perhaps feeling left out and alone and oh-so lonely, bothered him more than the fact he knew somewhere there was a gorgeous blond hanging off the Ravenclaw seeker's arm.
"Hey, Perce."
A hand waved in front of Percy's face and he batted it away, startled out of his thoughts.
"Geez, Ol. What did you do to him last night? He keeps staring off."
Percy turned around to notice that Dave had found Oliver who was carrying an armload of books.
"Some of those mind, Ol?"
"Guarded them with my life, Perce," Oliver said, his mood seemingly lifted as he handed over the majority of books. Wheezing with the heavy load, Percy set them on the ground in what he hoped was a casual manner.
Dave chose that moment to say:
"Carrying the books! Way to go! Wonder if Karen would mind lugging these around for me?"
Oliver rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'll be sure to tell her that at next class. We're in Charms together."
"Oh, God. Please don't, Ol! Anything but that!" In an over-dramatic gesture, Dave threw an arm over his forehead and sighed heavily.
"Anything?" Oliver questioned, catching Percy's eye before raising a threatening eyebrow at Dave.
"Of course, not everything. I leave that up to Perce, you know. I'm not wanting to get between you two."
"Thanks," Oliver said dryly, then turning his attention to Percy. Brown eyes ran over his body and a feeling of embarrassment came over him. Concerned eyes met his own.
"I saw the first-years get to you over there. You're all right?" His voice was casual, but his tone was a whisper, as though asking a secret.
Percy nodded, straightening out his robes. Best to keep going forward, he thought, saying aloud: "I'm going to ask Professor Flitwick about the charms used in the assignment. Dave and I have him second class."
"Karen and I have him first, I'll wait around for you guys afterwards."
"You have your assignment with you?"
"Yes, sir," Oliver said with a serious face, giving Percy a salute that he ignored.
"And we'll meet in the Library before lunch?"
"As you wish."
"I'll bring lunch to the Quidditch field afterwards?"
Oliver nodded, finally giving way to a smile as he turned to Dave and said, "Terribly demanding, ain't he?"
And without missing a beat, Dave said:
"That's why you love him so."
Giving a light laugh that sounded more like a sneeze interrupted by a hiccup, Oliver waved and walked away.
Percy felt a heat rise to his own cheeks and pointed his head down, trying (unsuccessfully) to keep the smile off his face. He shook his head lightly, letting out a soft chuckle and pursed his lips together. For what felt like the hundredth time since he'd awoken, he wondered what he'd done to deserve such great friends. He looked up, fully aware that his cheeks were still red, and-
To his horror, Dave was watching him. And smiling, as though he knew-
Knew what, Percy wondered, as he picked his books off the ground and headed towards first class.
--
Next Time: Dave and Percy have a little talk. Oliver has a little talk with some Very Important People, but quickly wishes he didn't. The boys meet up again in the library.
