Hello! Can anyone tell me if there is any evidence in the books that James Potter was a seeker? I've had a review to tell me that he was a chaser and now I'm all muxed up! (It happens very easily). In the fifth book when Harry falls into Snape's memories, James is by the water's edge playing with a snitch so I always presumed he was a seeker. I'm now terribly confused so some help would be appreciated! I'm probably wrong so thank you to Acacia Dyre for bringing it to my attention, I'm glad you like the story, thanks for your LOVELY comment:)Also, thanks to Fuzzycat, your review made me SOOOOO happy! I hope you like this chapter, it may get a tad disturbing as it nears the end, you have been warned, I may have to up the rating for safety! Well… enjoy!

For hours Percy sat there, not moving once. All of the Quidditch team had left and Oliver's parents were in a small room somewhere in the depths of the hospital, talking to a medi-wizard. A small muggle clock on the wall ticked, and tocked. Ticked and tocked. Throwing into sharp focus exactly how each second, Oliver was still unconscious. And it scared Percy.

Percy's eyes were fixed on Oliver, and only Oliver. The sound of the clock was accompanied by Oliver's shallow breathing and the repetitive beep of the heart rate monitor that resided beside the bed, giving Percy a shred of renewed hope.

At least Oliver was alive.

He continued to stroke his hand, hoping that the soft touch would bring his husband back to consciousness.

Occasionally, a nurse would enter the room and run a silent check on the handsome brown haired man lying helplessly in the bed. When he was alone, apart from Oliver obviously, Percy would lay his head down next to his husband's and whisper comforting words to him, just in case he could hear.

"I love you Oliver, remember that."

Percy had made a solemn vow not to cry. If Oliver came round, he didn't want to appear a weeping wreck, he wanted to seem strong for the man he loved.

About an hour after Oliver's parents had been to see the medi-wizard in charge of Oliver's recovery, they returned. Percy acknowledged that they were there but didn't take his hands away from Oliver's.

"What did they say?" Why can't they just use magic to make Oliver better?" Percy asked quietly, as if trying not to disturb Oliver.

"He said that the spells they would need to use would be so strong that they could seriously damage his chances of a complete recovery." Oliver's mother explained softly, sitting down next to Percy, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "They could bring him back to consciousness but it could result in severe brain damage."

Percy leaned down and lay his head back beside Oliver's, fighting the need to let the tears spill from his tired eyes.

"They want to ask you what to do. It's your choice."

Percy nodded in affirmation. Oliver's mother stroked her son's forehead softly whilst her husband held her shoulders, a saddened air surrounding the two. After a while, his parents left Oliver in Percy's company and care.

What should he do? Percy's mind was awash with counter arguments to every idea that popped into his head. He desperately wanted to wake Oliver up. He had to see him, hear his voice, see his boyish smile. But then again, if Oliver reacted badly to the treatment, he may never recognise Percy again. Now Percy was being selfish! He shouldn't care about himself! Oliver's life is the most important thing and if, in order to help Oliver survive he forgot that Percy even existed, it would be worth it. Percy buried his head in his hands just as his own parents entered.

Mrs Weasley encased her sobbing son in a warm hug. Percy simply accepted it but didn't have the strength to respond to it. He had been awake for over twenty hours and the emotional turmoil that had sped through his system in that time had drained every last drop of energy from him. Percy was unaware that he had fallen asleep in his mother's embrace. She smiled sadly and lay him down, his head resting on the edge of Oliver's crisp white pillow as he fell through the depths of his imagination into a dreamworld created only for him.

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Percy was sitting in the top box at the Quidditch World cup. His brothers were there, as was his father, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. It was the year after he had left Hogwarts. He was sitting in the same seat, next to the same people, with the same crowd surrounding every side of the pitch. Percy looked to the sky and saw that it shone in a hypnotic array of iridescent blues.

The commentator's voice suddenly blared above their heads and the crowd erupted in a tumultuous roar that nearly deafened Percy. At first, the Bulgarian team raced onto the pitch to a cacophony of cheers from their fans. Percy waited in anticipation for the Ireland team to zoom out, but they never came.

"And please will you welcome the England Team!" Came the commentator's roar. Percy was now very confused, it was Ireland who was playing, not England.

It was a strange feeling. Percy knew it was a dream but had no ability to control what he was doing. Instead of ripping himself from this strange, almost surreal world, he stayed, sitting with his family, waiting for the team to race onto the field.

"And here we have, SPELLER, TAYLER, MAJEKODUNMI, WEBB, WEBB, WOOD AAAAAAAAAND TOMPSON!"

The crowd burst into applause as the team pelted around the stadium. Percy was now very confused. That was Oliver's local team, they weren't the England squad. The England mascots leapt about over the ground. At first Percy couldn't tell what they were but on closer inspection, he saw that there were hundreds of Slinkies with union-jack suits on, springing across the grass.

This was definitely one of the stranger dreams to ever have crossed Percy's mind. As the team flew past the top box, time slowed almost to a halt, it felt as though a pair on Omnioculars had been strapped to his eyes. When Oliver moved past, he blew a kiss into the top box and winked. Percy smiled broadly and lifted his hand to wave to his husband, but, in an instant, time reset itself and seven white blurs flew past.

What Percy heard next made his heart freeze.

"And wasn't that touching everyone! Our dear England Keeper Mr Oliver Wood has just greeted his husband to the game with a wink and a kiss."

Percy could feel himself blush.

"And his husband has brought their son to his first ever Quidditch match, can we have a shot of this adorable toddler?"

Percy felt no eyes on him, instead, everyone beside him had turned around and were gazing adoringly at someone sitting in the seat behind. Reluctantly, and very, very slowly, Percy turned around.

Behind him, sat a very handsome, very embarrassed Draco Malfoy. If this wasn't enough to break Percy's heart, the sight of a three year old boy sitting on Draco's lap, was.

He had Draco's bleach blonde hair, falling out from under his hat, and his face shape was Draco's too. He was very small, pale and thin, not at all healthy for a young child in Percy's opinion.

But his eyes. They were Oliver's eyes. Percy had stared into those eyes too many times to mistake them for anyone else's.

Percy whipped round again, fighting back tears, trying to avoid looking at him, but instead was greeted by a fifty foot high screen, displaying the grinning little boy. A small blue woollen hat was pulled over his head, a tiny red bobble perched on the top. He was clapping his hands together which were sporting tiny blue mittens and his blue scarf fluttered as he bobbed up and down on his father's knee. He was smiling happily and giggling at the attention he was drawing. The screen flickered to a shot of Draco, an award winning smile on his face, his arms held tightly around his son. A beautiful diamond band was enclosed around his left ring finger.

This was Percy's worst nightmare.

A life without Oliver.

After a painstakingly long time, the image changed from the happy pair, to the sight of the referee marching out onto the pitch. Percy's eyes homed in on Oliver who had a very familiar look on his face. He was lost in a deep concentration, the only thoughts whizzing through his mind were that of the game. Behind him, Percy could hear Draco whispering to his son,

"Look, Jamie, there's Daddy."

Percy screwed his eyes shut tightly. He wanted to wake up. This was cruel. Oliver hated that name, Percy remembered in their fourth year, whilst discussing each other's names in a moment of boredom, Oliver had expressed his deep hatred for the name Jamie. His Oliver would never have called his son Jamie. But then again, here, in this place, he wasn't his Oliver.

Still in a dream state, Percy opened his eyes quickly when Draco screamed, the crowd joining him. Percy scanned the pitch and saw a player in white, lying motionless beneath the goalposts. Percy blinked in disbelief.

Not again.

After what seemed to Percy to be an eternity, he opened his eyes. He found himself on the pitch, no longer in the box. He glanced quickly around, trying to realise what was going on. People were barging past him, crashing into his arms and shoulders as they ran towards the end of the pitch. There was a large crowd forming there and Percy rushed forward to join it. He pushed through the people, bruising his arms as he threw both men and women out of the way. His need to see Oliver was sending the adrenaline gushing through his veins. As he forced his way through the muttering crowd, he eventually gained a clear view of the player on the floor. Draco was kneeling beside him, weeping uncontrollably.

Oliver was laying spread eagled on his back. His head lolled sickeningly to one side. Even to the untrained eye, it was clear that his neck had snapped in two. His mouth hung limply open and his eyes were heavily lidded. Percy was close enough to see that his chest was not moving, and a thin river of blood was flowing gently, almost peacefully from beneath his chestnut brown hair.

His world froze.

Draco's hysterical screams started to get louder, Percy could hear Oliver's son crying. People were shouting, engulfing him in a pounding cage of screams, unforgiving against his ears. He gripped his head in pain, screwing his eyes shut as a nation of mourners surrounded him, forcing him away from the scene and blocking Oliver from his view, finalising his horrific loss. He started to tear at the crowd's clothes, pulling with all his might.

He had to see Oliver, he couldn't be dead.

His world spiralled around him, caving in on him, the iridescent sky blanketing his demented being, forcing him to his knees, his body sinking into the red hot molten earth beneath him. He started to shout, quietly at first, then escalating into desperate screams as he was sucked down, the hands of the dead clawing at his face, whispering words of pain and sorrow into his bleeding ears. He was being taken away. Away from his life, away from his husband.

Away from his happiness.

"Oliver."

"Oliver!"

"OLIVER!"

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The blackness that surrounded him started to shift. Strange grey patterns played before his eyes. A dull ache resided inside what Oliver supposed was his head. He was slowly becoming aware of an agitated movement beside him. The object was twitching, almost spastically. It was wrong, uncomfortable.

Disturbing.

Oliver's thoughts jerked back to the instant when he had regained consciousness for a few seconds.

Percy had been beside him.

Oliver cared nothing for himself. Percy was in trouble and he had to save him from whatever was causing him pain. He knew that Percy was all that mattered and he had to open his eyes and see him. He had to make sure Percy was alright.

With only the thought of Percy coursing through his mind Oliver tore his eyes open and twisted his head rapidly towards the figure beside him.

"OLIVER!" The person cried, his head thriving this way and that.

Oliver yanked his hand up to grab his husband's arm, ignoring the blinding pain that was scratching at his muscles, screaming at him to stay still.

Almost as though his touch was charged with electricity, the red-head ripped open his eyes.

He came face to face with two bright, blue, beautiful eyes.

Was that okay? Was it too… odd? I know not much is happening but I really had the urge to write this chapter! You can now see the straaaaange thoughts that run through my head whilst writing! Thanks so so sooooo much for the lovely reviews! I absolutely love receiving them, and knowing that people acknowledge each chapter that I write really means a lot to me. I enjoyed writing these longer chapters so if I don't update as regularly, it's because I'm trying to make my work as good as it can be. Please keep the lovely reviews coming! Oh yeah, in case any of you didn't know, my name's Alice, nice to meet you all! xxx