Title: If You Were Gay…(1/1)

Author: Noctalune & Lea Woods

Pairing: N/A (Percy/Oliver…pre-slash implied…redundant, we know.)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Um….no?

Disclaimer: The characters contained herein aren't mine, though the premise of the piece is. It is in no way intended for monetary gain, on entertainment purposes. Characters and Hogwarts are copyright J.K. Rowling and her respective publishers. The title is snitched from a song of the same name in Avenue Q, as is the general plot. Genuine Hardy Boys reference.

Warnings: Blatant innuendo (stew over that one for a bit)…um…..slashiness implied

Summary: Neville's locked out. Again. This time, though, he's an (unwilling) witness to a…well, not a lover's spat exactly, but something certainly resembling that between the most eligible bachelor in Gryffindor House and the least.

Author's Notes: We apologize in advance. Oh, and extra points if you can find "hot on his heels" in this and actually get it…

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"Come on, just let me in," Neville pleaded. "You know me. I'm here every day. At least three times...once in the morning, once to get the things I've forgotten, and once to return the things that I didn't need but forgot and grabbed anyway. Can't you just let me in this once?"

"No password, no entry," the fat lady said grimly. She had never been fond of Neville.

Neville sighed gustily, and shuffled back down the corridor, away from the portrait hole. Passwords were the bane of his existence. Resigned to yet another evening locked out of his room, he headed for a nearby classroom to wait for someone kinder than the fat lady to let him in.

Unfortunately, he did this often enough that he had a book or two stashed away in the abandoned classroom. He knew he should start on his Potions essay - it would probably take him a week to do as it was. Snape was going to fail him anyway, but he ought to try…Shrugging, he opted for The Hardy Boys instead. For Muggle novels, they weren't bad. Didn't like Nancy Drew, though. Flighty bird that she was, reminded him of Lavendar…in the best possible way, of course.

In the nearly two years Neville had been at the school, he had never seen this particular classroom used for anything, not even charms practices. He knew Percy Weasley tutored in rooms like this, but oddly, the Prefect didn't seem to know this particular cubbyhole existed….no one did, even when he pointed it out to them.

He had just settled in to read his novel - The Mystery of Witches Hollow - when he heard raised voices and a second later the door slammed open.

" - not having this conversation again!"

"We've never actually had this conversation, Percy."

The Prefect Neville had thought of only seconds before came sailing in with the Quidditch Captain hot on his heels.

"Yes, we have," Percy slammed the door after Oliver walked through it. He threw his books on a desk then crossed his arms over his chest. "Once a week or so since the middle of last term. Or more accurately, since that incident in the forest with you and the rainstorm," Oliver's ears turned pink.

"I haven't mentioned that to anyone. I promised."

"So did I. And I've kept my end of the bargain. How many more times do we have to go through this?"

Oliver rubbed a hand over his brows. "But we've never actually talked about it. We've talked about talking about it, and you've talked about me talking about it when I promised not to talk about something linked, but otherwise completely different. Basically, you've been playing offensive defense for a term, and besides being completely pointless and rather futile, we've still not talked about this."

Percy stared at him incredulously. "You're deranged."

"Percy - "

"No!" The redhead snapped, grey-blue eyes flashing. "All I want to do is go out and enjoy the sun and read my book. Is that so much to ask?"

"Until we get this out in the open, yes."

Percy made a sound that resembled growling. "Fine," he hissed. "This will be my one-time only, landslide coming-out speech, okay? I am not…so inclined. There. Are you happy now? Can I PLEASE leave?"

Oliver frowned. "You know…If you were gay…"

"Oliver-"

"Just let me say this, Perce. If you were gay, it'd be all right." Percy tapped his foot impatiently. "I'm not saying that y'are, though I can't quite believe you when you say y'aren't."

"Why can't you just - "

"Rainstorm."

"I'm leaving now, Oliver."

"Wait a second," he reached out and grabbed Percy's shoulder, in effect yanking the slighter boy around. Percy glared at him. "Eh, sorry. Forgot. I just….You're my best mate, Perce. This is really something we should talk about."

"But I don't want to talk about it, Oliver. Do you see this? This thing we just did? This is talking. This is as close to talking about this as we're going to get. As far as I'm concerned, this conversation is over."

"But - "

"Over!" Percy snapped, pulling (rather violently) out of Oliver's hold, snatching his books off of the tabletop and stalking from the room. The door, oddly enough, clicked quietly rather than slamming, behind him.

Oliver stared at the broad expanse of wood for a second, then shook his head. "But…I want you to be." He sighed, rubbing his face with a hand. Then, after taking a deep breath, he left too.

The Hardy Boys lay abandoned on the desk in front of Neville as he tried to process everything he had just heard, vaguely realizing that he would be sitting there at least another hour before another Gryffindor came along.

"Why is it always me?" He asked the empty room, and returned to his book.

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fin

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