I hope the last few parts weren't too confusing - I only just noticed that the page breaks didn't go through! Many thanks to Tanya (or LJ user arcanefairy) for the great beta, as always, and to everyone for the comments :)

Chapter 9

"Oh boy…"

"George?"

"Fred! Come look at this!"

"Wow! Percy's desk finally self-destructed."

"Just waiting to happen, I suppose."

Oh, just get out! Percy lifted his head off his knees and looked at his brothers standing at the edge of his bed. Despite their jesting words, they were looking at him kindly, and belatedly he wondered if his eyes weren't still red from crying.

"You're not feeling well, Perce?" Fred asked hesitantly, exchanging a look with George.

Percy looked around the room, anywhere but at his brothers, and answered in a very tired voice, "Not really, Fred."

"What happened to your desk?"

"Oliver," Percy answered simply, quickly realizing that he didn't have to fabricate a complete lie to make his excuse unbelievable. Oliver could be a destructive goofball, given the circumstances and company.

The twins nodded, accepting the answer without hesitation.

"Well," George started, looking at Fred again as though for permission to continue. "We were looking for you. Ran into McGonagall earlier, she said you'd lost this."

He held out the head boy's badge.

Percy stared. Dumbledore must have known I was there. Lost. Right. Just throw it in the bin on your way out, boys.

"We thought it might be a fake," Fred gave a light laugh. "Couldn't have been fake, though. Wasn't one of ours, was it George?"

George grinned. "So we started to think that you've been kidnapped. How are you able to breathe without this thing, anyways?"

Percy rolled his eyes. I'll get rid of it myself. "Thanks for dropping it off."

"No problem."

"Actually, we had originally tried to find you at the prefects' lounge. Penelope was the one who asked where you were. She was also wondering about Dave, he hadn't shown up."

Of course he's with Oliver. They're probably trying to figure out a way to save his reputation after this whole marriage scandal erupts tomorrow. It wasn't a fair thought, Percy knew, but he wasn't in the mood to be particularly fair-minded.

He tried to maintain the appearance of composure as he continued to look at the badge held out to him. He wanted to tell his brothers that they could go blow it up for all he cared, that he was ready to leave the 'old' Percy behind and start anew with his life.

But as the light reflected off the gold in his badge, he couldn't bring himself to voice the words. After all, what would I do? I can't run away. I'm almost out of Hogwarts, anyways.

"I appreciate you both coming here," he forced himself to say, reaching for the badge. "I'm just not feeling the best, and… And Dave will carry on with my duties tonight."

Well, that's not a complete lie. I'm certain he'll take over when I don't show up. And I don't want to get caught up into things with my brothers tonight.

Fred and George looked at each other once more before nodding in unison at him. They each held eager, mischievous smiles, and didn't bother to question his reasons for staying away from the lounge.

"No problem. Night, Perce."

"Night, Perce. Hope you feel better tomorrow, all right? Later."

Percy waved them on, settling back onto the cushions.

"I couldn't care less what you two get into tonight," he muttered, knowing full well that the twins would probably use his absence to unleash one of their more daring pranks.


Karen made a 'humph' sound.

Oliver looked up from his playbooks, watching as she creased and flattened the edges of her parchment with tense fingers. Her eyes flashed over the desk in front of her but, he could see, they were cloudy and small, appearing to be concentrated in her own worries rather than the work in front of her.

Join the team, he thought, unsure of what to say to her, if anything. He was emotionally spent and, considering the problems he was trying to sort out with Percy, everything else appeared to pale in comparison.

She looked up and caught him staring at her, and she gave him a nervous smile before going back to her work.

Merlin, she's having a time of things…

He scolded himself for treating her like anything less than his friend, shoving his playbooks to the side and propping himself forward on his elbows. He waited for her to look up and acknowledge him, watching her face closely. Her eyes were red and sunken in and, he only just noticed, she seemed to have paled.

But the biggest change was in her personality – or rather, lack of it, Oliver thought grimly. Where was the witty, energetic and no-holds-barred girl that tried to make the most of any situation?

Have to be, dating Dave. He looked up, noticing that the Ravenclaw prefect was still chatting to his peers, holding Percy's clipboard. Penelope and Adam stood in the corner, watching him and the door closely. Probably waiting for Percy… Merlin, where is he?

Oliver only watched Karen for another few seconds before couldn't hold out any longer. "Karen, I hope you don't mind me asking… I mean, it's none of my business, sure, but--"

"Oliver?" she said quietly, raising her eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.

"Right. It's just… I couldn't help but notice that you've some things on your mind tonight. Today. Rather… It's just, I know everyone's a little off. But Plum's class, and the blue cloud, I was just wondering if--"

She gave him a brief glance and a tight smile before lowering her eyes back to the surface on the desk. She gripped the parchment corners tighter. "I'm fine, really. Just, you know. End-of-term and all that."

Oh. Well, if she says things are all right… He nodded. "Well, if you ever need someone to--"

"Thank you," she answered quickly, busying herself now with uncapping her quill. "I really appreciate that. You're a good friend."

"As long as you're--"

"I'm great. Just a little tired. But fine, really." She gave him another tight smile and turned back to her work.

But this time her expression couldn't be hidden, and Oliver realized that he was fed up with being pacified or lied to.

"No, you're not," he said, surprising himself by pushing through his own hesitancy. "You aren't fine at all. And unless you've a problem with me, then I'm a willing listener. And a pretty good talker at that."

She gave him a look that, Oliver thought, on anyone else would have been accompanied by a rolling of the eyes.

"Karen, I'm going through my own stuff right now," Oliver said through gritted teeth. He grabbed her wrist and tightened his fingers around it, urging her to return his look. "But I'm not going to let you treat me like a second rate friend. Just between us. What's going on?"

Karen looked at him cautiously before she lowered her gaze again and heaved deeply. She put her hands over her face and whispered hoarsely, "It's… It's complicated, Oliver."

He remained silent, waiting.

After a few moments in which she appeared to compose herself and gather her thoughts, she peered at him between her fingers and said in a desperate hiss, "I just don't know what to do. There is no place for me. I hardly belong here; how am I supposed to find that security after school? I am just so scared."

Oliver took her hands away from her tear-stained face, holding them gently in his grasp. Gently! She looked at him wide-eyed, almost manic, as he leaned closer to her, placing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, Karen," he muttered, smiling softly, closing his eyes and leaning forward until their foreheads touched. "Don't you see? We're all in the same boat here."

She made another 'humph' sound.

He pressed on gently, their foreheads still touching. "What am I going to do if I get injured? What if Percy isn't accepted in the Ministry?" He tried to ignore his own concerns that arose with the mention of Percy's name. "And what is Dave going to do after his own academic plans? We're all in this together. And everyone goes through this. We just have to take life one day at a time, and not get too far ahead of ourselves. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?"

Though he meant his words as comfort, he was suddenly reminded of just what exactly tomorrow had promised to bring to him and Percy.

No, I can't think about that right now. Be a good friend.

"I want to do something well, Oliver!" As Karen spoke, she leaned back away, watching him. "I don't want to leave this school as Karen George. You're off for Quidditch. Dave's already talking about going to America, settling into a lifetime of academia. And Percy leaves for the ministry right after graduation."

That's right. The day after graduation, most probably. Oliver's stomached tightened into knots; yet he forced himself to remain focused on Karen's words as she continued: "And then there's me. I don't mean to be selfish but-- Why was I left out of this certainty that life so generously granted you three? Why must I be so equally incompetent at all things? Nothing is calling to me, Oliver, and I'm just so scared that…" She stared at the table's surface, her face reddened though, Oliver suspected, more so from embarrassment over voicing her true emotions than anything else.

Forgetting his own worries, Oliver gently wrapped his hand around her clenched fingers, prying them apart. His heart immediately felt the weight of her emotions, as the words were spoken by a young women who always seemed to carry herself with the happiness and confidence that is so rarely granted to the young. "Karen, I had no idea you felt this way. If only we'd known… That you knew so little about yourself."

She looked up at him sharply. He gave her a soft smile, squeezing her fingers.

"Nothing is ever easy. No path ever certain," Oliver's mind flashed back to Percy's comforting words the night before, words that he'd repeated to himself dozens of times since. "We can only deal with what--"

She pulled her fingers away. "No, you're not getting it."

With a quick glance around the room to make sure they weren't drawing attention to themselves, Oliver scooted his chair even closer to Karen. She collapsed against him, sobbing without sound, and he struggled to hold her close without losing his grip. And just when he thought he might have been holding her too tightly, he felt her head shake, her hair tickling his neck, her fingers worming their way around his waist. She shook and shook and shook until finally--

She pushed him away hard. "No, Oliver! I appreciate what you're trying to do but it's not the same thing! Don't you get it? You guys will always have something to fall back on. You three know exactly what you're good at. And if one door closes, you'll just create another right away. I know that, I've seen you three do that. And I… Dave and I…"

She faltered, staring past Oliver's shoulder. He took the opportunity to seize her shoulders firmly, not minding that she was so much smaller than he.

"What about Dave?" he whispered into her ear as she calmed.

He could feel her hot breath on his ear. "Dave is brilliant. He has a million different interests and hobbies. He'll get along fine."

"That's not what I was asking."

She swallowed hard. "Dave is typical Ravenclaw. Why, I don't think I've ever seen him study for an examination. A twelve-foot parchment takes him less than two hours to complete! But I'm at the bottom of the House. I can study for twelve hours. Dave helps me, and I'm still dense as a doorknob."

"You get better marks than I do," Oliver said lightly. This is unusual. Maybe not for the other girls our year, but especially for Karen.

"Better marks than average, yes. But I'm so far down the Ravenclaw average that it's almost an embarrassment to be from this house. And Dave," she breathed out his name, looking over Oliver's shoulder. "Sometimes… I don't know…"

"What?"

"Sometimes, I wonder… Oliver, I don't think we're in things for the long haul. I'm not like the--"

"He loves you," Oliver pressed, anxiety growing in his stomach. What the hell is this?

"Yes, I'm… I love him, too." She cleared her throat gently, still looking over Oliver's shoulder. "But, the novelty of it all, of us being together, I can't help but--"

"I can't believe you'd think so lowly of him," Oliver gently admonished, trying to stop Karen's line of thinking.

She bit her bottom lip, squirming in her seat. "Sometimes it feels like Mr. Perfect dating little Miss Plain Jane, completing the circle of high school cliché. He's not--"

"Don't give me that self-pity or--" Oliver wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

"Pity? Pity? Oliver, it's life."

Though her facial expression stayed calm and sad, slow tears ran down from her eyes. As she started to speak once more, she couldn't get past a stutter.

Oh no…

"Karen, calm down! Listen to me. Listen!" Oliver gripped her shoulders tighter, struggling to find the right words to say. "This here… It's a panic attack. Look, we all have them. It seems like everything's building up. Since the start of this damned assignment. Come here."

He drew her into a tight hug, unmindful of the pressure he enveloped her in. He pressed his cheek against her hair and rocked her gently back and forth, her sobs finally ceasing. She was deadweight against him. He whispered, over and over: "It's all right. Shhhhh. I know I can't make things better for you right now. Merlin, I wish I could. But I'm here for you. We all are. Don't forget that, Karen."

A throat cleared loudly. Dave. "Am I interrupting?"

Oliver felt a sharp, pointed finger tap his shoulder and, still holding Karen, he turned around. Though Dave's words were spoken lightly, the glare he received was enough to make him let go of her immediately, turning pink (and looking somewhat guiltily) at the sudden appearance.

Dave himself jolted at the appearance of Karen's red face when Oliver let go. He remained silent for a few moments, looking back and forth at them. He crossed his arms, walking a few paces closer to Karen and turned to face Oliver. And then hissed, "What the hell is going on here? Oliver, what did you say to--"

"Nothing!" Karen said quickly, straightening her back. Her tone allowed no questions to be asked. She addressed Oliver "Thanks. But would you mind if Dave and I spoke for a minute? Alone?"

That 'alone' wasn't to be questioned, Oliver knew. Though his limbs felt deadweight, he forced himself to stand. He couldn't bring himself to look at Dave. Don't-break-up-don't-break-up-don't-break-up.

He walked to the other side of the room, trying to watch everything else that was occurring instead the drama involving his best friends. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew Percy should have arrived by now. And where the hell is he?

Oliver tried to focus on the room. There's Miles and Brock and –oh, there's Penny still with Adam. Merlin, look at that girl. Class-less. There's Peter's, he's… Oh, shod it. Oliver gave up trying to look for distractions, looking back at Karen and Dave.

But Karen was nowhere to be seen. The table was cleared of her books, and only Dave now stood in place, his cheeks drawn in. He was staring back at Oliver, thoughtfully.

Unsettled, Oliver began to walk back to the other side of the room. His ears tuned back into the present conversation and he soon realized that, unlike him, the other prefects noticed Karen's quick getaway and were directing their attention on him.

"Troubles, Dave?"

"Always the sweet talker, huh?"

"It's to be expected. Most marriages now end in divorce, they say."

"Finally said one too many words she couldn't understand, Dave?"

Penelope was grinning madly, having uttered the final and most biting comment, and she stood proudly next to Adam, who matched her grin.

Oliver gawked at her. She didn't just say--

Adam stepped closer to Dave, leading Penelope with him. "Karen getting tired of sharing you with Percy and Oliver, huh?"

Well, what do you know? He speaks.

With an unreadable expression, Dave began to slowly walk towards the couple. Adam drew a protective arm around Penny's neck, and Oliver got a nervous feeling in his stomach.

A rare expression of stoic resolve had come over Dave's face. Oliver knew what was coming before Adam even finished the sentence and, faster than he could dash across the room to stop him, Dave's fisted hand hit Adam squarely in the mouth.

THUD!

The Ravenclaw seeker tripped backwards, suddenly flattened on the ground and holding his jaw, moaning and sobbing and writhing with pain. Penelope cried out, her own hands fisted as she frantically looked around the room for some type of authority to step in and save her partner.

Interesting that the 'authority' she's looking for is the head boy, Oliver's mind registered, though he was numb at the events before him.

The prefects stood around silent, frozen with the realization that one of their own proved capable of such primitive barbaric actions that were supposed to be confined to 'those other students' without the badge.

Dave wasn't finished, Oliver knew, but just as the young blond-haired man was about to have another go, Oliver'd snapped out of his numbness, crossed the room, held his friends' hands down and dragged him away from the beaten man.

In a gruff voice, he managed, "Dave, what the hell do you think--"

Dave shoved his hands aside, a foreign rage reflected in his eyes that shocked him into silence. After a moment, he returned in a sarcastic voice, "Obviously, not thinking is the theme of the day, isn't it Oliver?" He turned to the other prefects, now huddled over Adam.

Everyone looked at this seventh-year (usually) passive Ravenclaw in awe and trepidation, unsure of what actions should be taken to one of their own senior ranks; before they could speak, however, he cocked his head and said authoritatively, "Clean up this damn mess, will you?"

Dave flicked the collar of his robe, his prefects' badge flittering through the air and landing at Oliver's feet. Without a second glance, he walked out of the lounge, leaving the others to puzzle out what had just happened.


Percy adjusted the head boy's badge on his robe, tilting it against the candlelight and watching the colors reflect off the mirror's surface. He felt very calm, warm and clear-headed. It was, he reflected, a welcomed change from all his previous time at Hogwarts.

After some reflection, he decided that ridding himself of his head boy status would only add to the mess that Oliver and Dave were creating for him. As head boy, he reasoned, he'd maintain some semblance of respect and order amidst the chaos that promised to occur the next day.

He shuddered involuntarily at the thought, trying to purge it from his mind.

Duty first. Duty only.

In his time alone, Percy had fixed up his desk to make it passable until the end of the school year, placing some charms on the desk (and truth be known, some books underneath to hold it up). Now he changed robes and slicked back his hair, admiring himself in a mirror he rarely stood in front of for more than half a minute.

"Only one more term left. No problem." He adjusted his tie again.

It's doable. If I immerse myself in my studies, I can avoid seeing Oliver, and maybe Dave, most of the time alone. And Penelope will—

Penelope. What can I do about my Penny? He watched his facial expression falter in the mirror's reflection, revealing the hurt that have overwhelmed him at the sight of his girlfriend and Adam together.

Doing that. We hadn't even done that.

Distantly, Percy realized that he was--

A tad.

Bit.

Perhaps.

"Jealous," he muttered, his ears reddening at the thought that Penny preferred to be with Adam (like that doing that) and not him.

He turned away from the mirror and yanked the tie over his head. It didn't matter anyways, he knew. It would be far too late to report for his duties by now.

Why are these things so heavy? Frustrated, he tore the robe from his body and unbuttoned his shirt. He ran his hands through his hair, itching his scalp with his fingernails. He wanted nothing more than to talk to someone right now--

No, he realized. He wanted nothing better than to speak to Oliver right now, to hear his friendly words and broad perspective on life, never judging Percy's actions even when, in retelling, Percy himself could see his faults.

Bastard.

Percy was too warm. He wrestled out of the confining shirt, throwing it across the room. He kicked off his shoes to the corner where they banged noisily against the stonewall.

A mistake. Everything. Our friendship, the last six years.

He fought off tears as he tore off his trousers, leaving them in a heap at the side of the bed.

How many times did I help him study? How many times did he go over Quidditch plays?

As he pulled a nightshirt over his head, Percy was drawn to one particular memory from fifth year, when Oliver first asked him his advice about a potential Quidditch play for that day's match.

He shook his head hard, dismissing the thought.

And… And how long did he know he was gay, anyways? Did he keep that from me for years?

Percy tried to ignore the voice in his head that reminded him that Oliver told him first before anyone else.

Why has he never asked my advice in love? I've certainly asked for his!

Percy thought back to the brown eyes that looked at him so closely as he sat at his desk, almost close enough for a kiss.

Maybe he's never had reason to ask my advice. Maybe he's never been in love.

He shook his head, trying to find his slippers underneath his bed.

Asshole.

His search unsuccessful, he crawled to Oliver's bed and searched quickly through the rubble underneath for his slippers.

He's embarrassed. That's the only reason he wouldn't want to be with me.

He found one slipper. And paused as he repeated:

'That's the only reason he wouldn't want to be with me.'

Why would it matter to me if he doesn't want to be with me like that? I'm not gay. And I wouldn't be his type anyway.

... who would be his type?

Percy resumed his search for the other slipper, ignoring the sinking of his stomach at that thought.

It's an insult to our friendship. That's why I'm upset. He didn't think enough of me to tell me we are really married.

He breathed out.

Really married.

And the person who he was married to seemed to take his presence as a great insult.

Yes, that's why I'm upset. I thought we were better friends than that--

Percy shook his head, as though he could rid himself of the thought by such an action. He considered himself a practical young man. So what if Oliver didn't think he was 'boyfriend material'? Why did that matter? And why, when Penelope was gone, would he run to his gay best friend, who could offer only comfort rather than advice based on personal experience?

His whole life, he realized, seemed to be jumbled. He felt as if he were presented with a math equation to which he knew he was close to solving and yet, the answer still eluded him.

Percy's hands reached out under the bed, quickly finding the other slipper. But as he pulled it out, a mess of Oliver's other things came with it, and the silver-framed picture, the copy of one he'd given Percy last year, appeared.

Not touching the picture, Percy crammed the items back under the bed and put his other slipper on. He grabbed the picture and stood quickly, looking around the room, uncertain what to do next. Tea. Always tea. He walked towards the nightstand and flicked his wand at the kettle, hoping it still had enough water left over from last night. He didn't feel like filling it.

Percy sat on the bed as he waited for the boil, turning the photograph over in his hands. "I remember this day like it was yesterday," he muttered. He shivered. What a mess things were now!

In the photograph, Oliver was staring at Percy's turned back. He looked dark, his brow wrinkled in concentration, but he didn't shy away from Photo Percy's rejection.

Percy adjusted his glasses, bringing the photograph closer. To his surprise, Photo Oliver wasn't just looking at Photo Percy. No, he's staring. Why would he be staring? And why would he look so sad? Angry at the situation. Pleased if he's able to get out of things. But sad…

He brought the photograph closer to his face, unaware that his nose was barely touching the surface as he scrutinized the image. No, that's wrong, he quickly realized.

No, instead--

Instead Oliver's looking at me the way… Percy stretched the photograph away from his face, still examining.

the way Penelope use to.

He let go of the picture and it fluttered to the ground, and he made no attempt to catch it on it's slow descend. His eyes followed the fall, the photograph see-sawing back-and-forth in the air until it slid on the floor.

But why would Oliver--

Percy put a cold hand to his warm forehead.

A glimmer of an idea was starting to take shape in his mind.

His stomach turned.

"Feeling all right, Perce?"


Oliver stood in the doorway, watching as Percy sat on his bed, holding his head in his hands. He was flushed but Oliver already knew that his friend wasn't ill. No, all it had taken was Percy's returned glare and he knew that he had been too late.

Percy already knows about tomorrow.

Oliver had left the prefect's lounge immediately in search of Dave but he couldn't find his friend or Karen, and instead decided to collect his books and make his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

Despite the late hour (for it was after ten o'clock now), Oliver remembered that the game tomorrow must take priority. By chance, he came across Fred and George in the corridor, and entered into a quick chat about the game statistics for tomorrow, promising an early practice. When they parted, Fred called back and asked if Percy was ill.

Oliver had only shrugged and continued walking, though his pace had quickened.

And with good reason, he thought now, still standing in the doorway and watching Percy watch him.

The kettle began to whistle and Oliver pulled out his wand, muttering a familiar charm in its direction. But he didn't move from the doorway.

"I know." Percy startled him out of his thoughts.

Oliver nodded, trying to remain expressionless. "All right. That's good. I was about to tell you."

Percy looked away, nodding to himself. He bit his bottom lip, Oliver noticed, and he was rocking slightly. "Indeed?"

He's going to explode.

Oliver took a deep breath, stepping forward. "I'm sorry. I meant to tell you earlier but--"

"But?" Percy still wouldn't look at him.

"And I've no right to ask you to--"

"To forgive you?" Percy chuckled bitterly, looking towards his desk.

Was that what I was going to say? "Look, there's a lot going on here."

"Apparently."

"And we have to talk about things. Will you just look at me?" Why do I sound so angry?

Percy didn't answer him, and his inaction infuriated Oliver further. He stormed into the room, past Percy's bed and threw his playbooks onto his desk.

"What do you want me to say, Perce? How would you have told me? I was waiting for an opportunity all day to tell you, but… I just didn't know how to start. Look at me!"

Percy didn't move as he answered: "You didn't know how to start? Typical, huh? Just ignore the situation and see if it'll correct itself?"

"That's not fair," Oliver protested, though he knew Percy was right. "It's not something that's easy to tell another person, Perce. It's not like--"

"I had to hear it from Dumbledore! From outside of his office! Right after--" Percy ran a hand roughly through his hair, stopping his words. He shook his head.

Right after what?

Percy rubbed the back of his wrist over his forehead, fidgeting. "Look, if you had that big a problem being with me…in this assignment, in this way, then you should have said something earlier."

"Merlin! What would I have said?" Oliver immediately realized that wasn't the answer he wanted to give. He tried again. "Look, if anyone would have a problem with another in this assignment, it'd be you."

Percy crossed his arms. "Of course I've a problem being married to you! Oliver, we're seventeen! Together our magic would just wreck havoc on everything, and we're lucky that hasn't happened so far. And you didn't tell me! How did you expect me to react?"

The room grew quiet.

After a short staring challenge, Oliver shuffled his feet and backed away a few steps. "You-- You do have a problem being married to me?"

Percy's eyes sparked. "I didn't say--"

"An excuse, Perce. The rest is just an excuse." A hot rush came over Oliver.

"An excuse? I don't need to look for an excuse to be angry, certainly not one as flimsy as that. You had no business keeping--"

"No, I didn't! But has it occurred to you that perhaps you're just a little too upset at this whole situation? Be angry at me, that's all right. But how much of this anger should be for the headmaster, or Plum?" Oliver was hardly paying attention to Percy's words. Faintly he was aware that the words he was voicing were his own fears but Percy's anger had set off his own, and there would be no turning back. "There's something more to it, isn't there Perce? Is it because you're now married to me? Eh? Does that disgust you? Does it disgust you to be with me like this?"

Percy startled, as though Oliver had just slapped him.

This gesture encouraged him to continue. "Merlin-forbid the world think Mr. Perfect has just a slight interest for boys. Or more specifically, for a dim Quidditch jock. Sorry that the brilliant Adam Jones was already taken, Perce. I'm sure he'd more than meet your approval."

Silence engulfed the room once more but, as soon as Oliver realized that he might have gone too far, Percy let out a long, gentle sigh, his head bowed. When he did eventually speak, his words were carefully chosen, measured and quiet. "Over the line, Oliver. Don't keep lying to me. And don't impose your fears on me. The fault here is yours alone."

Speaking as though he were talking to himself, Percy let out a chuckle, pointing his palms to the ceiling. "I thought I was different. The exception. Oliver—you were the one constant that I never thought-- never thought-- Now I've not even the hope of fools to keep me company." Shaking his head, he walked past Oliver. "I'll be downstairs on the couch. I'll see you for the grand announcement at breakfast."

Oliver watched as Percy, clad in his dressing gown and slippers, began to walk out the door.

He abruptly stopped.

Dave stood in the doorway.


"Dave?" Percy muttered, stopping himself from running forward. His friend looked horrible – his eyes were dark and cloudy, and his robe was rumpled and ripped open, revealing the disarray of layers of clothing underneath. What's happened to him?

Dave was looking back and forth at the two young men, unblinking. He walked into the room slowly and circled around them before speaking. "I could hear you fighting outside," he said simply, looking at them both as though gauging their reaction.

"Dave, you might want to sit down over--"

He held up a dismissing hand. "I'm fine. Just great, really. But I've enough of this."

Whatever this was, Percy wasn't certain, and a part of him wanted to push past his friend and leave the room, away from Oliver as soon as possible. But Dave's angry, weary glare was one that he'd never encountered before.

"I've enough of this," Dave repeated. His eyes almost glowed with the tension, Percy noted, and his hands shook as they appeared to be trying to contain his frustration and anger. "Get over yourselves, both of you. Start acting like the mature Gryffindors your suppose to be. Where's all that bravery, eh?"

More to it than that, Dave. Percy winced, recalling Oliver's accusations. None had been truthful in the least and it seemed, to him, that his roommate was the one that was only making excuses.

"I'm…" Dave let out a deep breath, backing away. "I'm just so tired of it all. I don't care." He looked up at the floor. "Everything is messed up. I've struck a student and relinquished my prefect's title. Karen's… Karen doesn't want to be with me anymore, and there's nothing I can say or do to get her to change her mind."

Percy swayed as he grappled with Dave's words. What the… Karen left Dave? Dave hit somebody? No, I must have heard wrong.

Dave let out a sound that, if Percy hadn't known him better, would have thought a sob. "I know everyone has their own shit and all, but… I can't help thinking that if only my two best friends had been there for me, to have helped me through my own difficult times… I keep wondering why they hadn't noticed anything before? Am I that oblivious? How couldn't I have noticed anything earlier?" He was speaking quietly now, berating himself. "Am I that selfish? How long has she--"

"Dave," Oliver finally spoke, walking forward and clasping his shoulders, bringing him out of his thoughts. "What happened downstairs… Everyone's under a lot of stress."

What in blazes happened downstairs?

Dave licked his lips and began speaking slowly, as though trying to will himself to listen to his words. He backed away from Oliver, looking at Percy once more. "You two are mad at each other? Fine, it's deserved, both ways. But you're going to have to get yourselves out of this mess."

Percy started to open his mouth but Dave cut him off, speaking sharply. "This is what you're going to do. Pretend everything is the same as it's always been. Tomorrow you'll wake up, laugh at the situation and make a few crude jokes about sent flowers and whose turn it was to take out the trash. The school will be too interested in this latest piece of gossip to even think about harassing Percy about it."

What the-- Percy stepped forward. "What do you mean, harassing me? I can take care of--"

"And it just might distract the Slytherins enough to help you win the game tomorrow, Oliver. Even with those injuries you got today."

Percy couldn't stop himself from turning to face Oliver. Injuries? What injuries? Today? But when would… Merlin, Plum's class! After lunch! He was late… Oh no…

He gulped, then set his lips in a firm line, determined not to ask a question no matter how tempting. He couldn't even trust me with that.

Dave was sweating, speaking as though each word were trying. "I promised to help you, Oliver, and that's the best I can do for you. I want you both to just…" He looked down at his feet, shuffling. Despite his words, he spoke quietly, kindly. "I want you to just leave me alone for a bit. And Karen. I have my own stuff to work through, and you two can figure things out for yourselves. I can't do this anymore."

Overcome with guilt and sadness at the sight of his friend and his words, Percy found himself leaning against his bed to support himself. Dave… Dave doesn't want to be around us anymore?

Dave put his head in his hands, and then stretched them out. "If you two haven't the decency to even do that, then to hell with you both!"

He turned on his heel, leaving the room.

Percy couldn't control his curiosity, and turned quickly to Oliver. "What's he talking about, Oliver? What happened with Karen? Who did he hit?"

Slowly Oliver turned to face him. He wore a scowl, and his eyes were tired and stressed. "It doesn't matter, Perce. You heard him. Unless you'd rather we try to--"

Oh no you don't!

"Oliver!" Percy reached forward and grabbed his wrist, and intense brown eyes met his own. "What did he mean before? What happened to you this afternoon?"

He searched Oliver's eyes but they looked dead to him, uninterested in continuing any conversation. He turned away from Percy and, removing his robe and shoes, sat on his bed and opened a playbook.

"Oliver?"

He cleared his throat gently. "I think we should just listen to him, Perce. Do what he says for tomorrow."

"But--"

"Good-night."

Goodnight? GOODNIGHT? Percy backed away from him slowly, until the back of his knees hit his bed. The events of the evening came back to him, as well as scatterings of memories from years before.

His eye caught the photograph he'd dropped onto the floor, but he couldn't bend down to pick it up, instead staring at the faces. It seemed like another lifetime now, as though it'd all been a dream. How much of that had been real? Were we ever really friends?

Percy didn't look across the room at Oliver. He straightened his back once more, setting an impassive expression over his face and, ignoring the rumbling in his stomach over the forgotten supper, he ducked underneath the sheets, pulling them far above his head.

And he concentrated on quieting his breathing and steadying his heartbeat, trying to ignore the tears that he couldn't keep back.


Dave. If only I'd known you were having just as hard a time…

Oliver couldn't look at Percy after Dave left. It wasn't only his troubles now, and the guilt that Dave was now going through anguish similar to what Oliver'd unleashed onto him earlier seemed completely unfair. Unjustified.

What right did I have to expect Dave to fix all my problems? Is this how my life is going to be? Depend on Percy for homework, depend on Dave for everything else?

No more.

His stomach rumbled. He twisted on the bed, as though such an action would quiet the sound, but as he turned, he felt the dull ache of the bruises that Dave had quickly repaired.

He sighed. I should have kept up the lie that nothing happened. That was time he should have been spending with Karen. I was in the class, I saw the cloud. Hell, even this morning she was acting strange.

"Not always about you, Wood," he muttered.

Oliver couldn't help looking over the other side of the room to make sure Percy was under the covers. And then he saw it--

The outline of his silver-framed picture on the floor. The picture that he found this morning, the one that caused him to remember his feelings towards Percy.

He didn't move from the bed, instead staring at the picture on the floor, watching his photo-self stare at Percy's turned back. He stared until the photograph was a blur and he couldn't keep his eyes open, and he felt himself drifting to sleep…

He was so very tired.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be different. It has to be.

- - To Be Continued