A Harry Potter One-shot
By Suchan deFamine
Notes: Slash, PercyxOliver, and just a lot of fluff going on. shrug I thought it'd be cute. There's not much PercyxOliver anymore… my favourite pairing, too.
"Oliver Wood!" Oliver turned around slightly to face the large gentleman addressing him. "That was an excellent match last weekend against Birmingham. They got their asses handed to 'em, eh?"
"Thanks, yeah."
"See you." The elevator doors closed again, bringing Oliver closer to his destination. But why should he be nervous? They'd met a month ago on friendly terms. Why should this be any different?
Because I'm different. I—There was not more time for worries as Oliver stepped off on the top floor. His spot was replaced by a pink fluttering memo and the doors shut again, sealing off any escape.
Through the window in the office door, he could see someone still hard at work at closing time in the Ministry of Magic.
"Percival?"
He waited.
"Percy?…"
No response.
"Hey, Perce, you alive in there?"
Percy Weasley finally looked up from the lengthy parchment he had been working on. Took off his glasses. Smiled.
"Hullo, Oliver."
"Looks like they've been keeping you pretty busy," Oliver commented, noting the large stack of papers on the desk; he sat down in one of the leather chairs in front of him.
Percy gave him a wry look, blew gently on the drying ink, and got up to file it. "This isn't the half of it." There came so heavy a sigh that Oliver knew Percy was either very stressed, very tired, or both. "But I like it. It's a good job for me."
"Probably comes of you love of organising sock drawers, eh?" Playfully, Percy stuck his tongue out at him, but smiled slightly.
"Maybe."
There was a silence; they studied each other. Percy, pale, with heavy eyelids and tousled red hair; Oliver, looking rather healthy, with pinkish cheeks from the chilly fall air outside, eyes full of concern.
"Well," said Oliver suddenly, "if you're not going to work yourself to death until two in the morning, I was wondering if you'd like to pop off to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer or something?"
He watched Percy's expression turn wistful. "I really wish I could, Ollie, but there's so much work I've got to…" He frowned at all the papers waiting impatiently on the polished oak.
"Oh." Oliver got up with some effort. "Maybe—maybe some other time, then." He made for the door with his shoulders drooping with disappointment.
Percy watched his tread, and gave his desk another once-over. There was nothing that was really too terribly incredibly important. Besides, everyone else had gone. It was almost six o'clock. "Actually," he said, changing his mind hurriedly before Oliver left, "actually, I think I really need to get out of here."
Oliver smiled. "Great."
"I'll just lock up, then." Percy grabbed his black coat and locked the office door behind them. "Three Broomsticks?"
"Three Broomsticks." They shared a shy smile.
Pop.
"Just the two for you gents?"
"Yes, thank you." Percy listened to the click-clack of Madame Rosemerta's heels fading behind the bar; he rubbed the lenses of his glasses and resettled them on his nose.
Oliver peered inquisitively at him. "New glasses?" He took in the stylish frames, smallish rectangles with only frames on the top, green ones. Percy looked good in them, he decided.
"Oh—." Percy blinked. "Yes. Had to get a different prescription." He shrugged. "Think my eyes are getting worse." He looked away from Oliver's intense gaze.
Oliver looked down at his laced fingers. "So, how've you been?"
"Not too bad. Just busy. You?"
Oliver's lips twisted up in a smirk. He shrugged. "Not much more than Quidditch." He noticed Percy was trying to hide a smile. "What is it?"
"Oh, I only noticed when I was in Mrs. Bone's office the other day, there were more than several clippings out of the Quidditch Weekly …most of em about you. Pictures even."
"Well, that made my day. Mrs. Bone fancies me." Percy shook his head, smiling.
"I take it that it's going well for you?"
"Yeah…pretty good I guess." They stopped for a minute as Rosemerta brought them their drinks. "How're you and Penelope?" He nearly kicked himself when Percy's face fell painfully.
"Oh…we broke up a while ago…" His voice was small and quiet. "Things weren't working out."
"I'm sorry."
"No," said Percy quickly, "it's better that way. I…she just wasn't the someone I was looking for, I guess."
"Oh." Oliver tried to think of something to change the subject. "So how's work at the Ministry?"
"Really busy. Mr. Device took over Mr. Crouch's position, and he's been overseeing the appointment of new Aurors and suchlike." Percy gave him a wry smile. "I once thought about being an Auror, but you know how clumsy I am… my reflexes are horrible."
"You're not that clumsy…" But Oliver smiled, remembering an incident back in the day at Hogwarts that landed them both in the hospital wing for a week with Oliver not able to smell anything but grape jam and Percy with four toes in all, which had turned a funny orange colour.
Percy had tripped over the top step, fell backward onto Oliver and his wand and both boys had bounced down the stairs. His wand hadn't appreciated it much.
"It was really weird having only four toes."
"Wonder what I would have done if I could have only smelled feet or something…"
They stopped. Smiled. Percy laughed. "Sometimes I wish I was back at Hogwarts…"
"Me too." Oliver sighed into his bottle and downed half of it.
"You gents prepared to pay for all this?"
"Sure, M'm Rosemerti."
"Right, right…" She looked unconvinced as she clicked away in her heels.
"So, yeah, I dunno what I'm doing… the Ministry's okay.. but I think, think I'd lime…like to be cooking somewhere. Mum was always a fantastic cook…"
"You cook good then?"
"Yeah. Real good." Percy blinked around at the seventeen plus empty butterbeer bottles lying around the table. "D'you wanna split the tab?"
"Nah, I'll get it… I invited you." Oliver counted out a few galleons and sighed.
"Hey, Ollie… "
"Yeah?" Oliver tried to focus on Percy trying to focus on him.
"Y'know, when I said Penelope wasn't the someone I was looking for?"
"Yeah? Who're you lookin' for?"
Percy smiled shyly, and said, "Someone like you."
"You're drunk."
"I'm telling the truth, Oliver."
"Oh. Okay, then." Percy giggled when Oliver leaned across the table and kissed his cheek. "That's great, then…'cause I feel the same way 'bout you."
"Alright."
"Yeah."
"Dear God, how'm I gonna esplain this t' Mum?"
"Iono." Oliver helped him up and they leaned on each other to the door. "Rose, the money's on the table."
"Thank you. Have a nice night." Then, after they'd left, "What a couple of weirdoes. But they're sweet together." She smiled softly. The bell on the door tinkled pleasantly and she looked up.
"Good evening, Rose." She smiled broadly and blushed like a schoolgirl.
"Hello, Severus."
"That was crazy. And you invented it?"
"Yeah…" There was a sigh to be had from both of them. Percy leaned his head on Oliver's shoulder. "So you liked it?"
"Yeah…was great." He chuckled. "What're you gonna call it?"
"Iono. Chicken in butterbeer sauce?"
"Very inventive."
"Ah, well."
There was a comfortable, digestive silence.
"So how'd your mom take it?"
"Mostly she's just glad we're on good terms again, but…she didn't freak out so badly as I thought she might."
"Mmm…great."
"Yeah…"
Just as they were drifting off to sleep, Oliver mumbled, "I'm really glad I found you again, Perce."
"I'm glad you did, too."
fin.