It was a warm summer day and I was staring out the enchanted window of my office, wishing I had someone to go on a picnic with. That's when the phone rang, interrupting my peaceful daydreams with it's pandomonium. I sighed picking it up, "Percey Weasley, under-wrighting."

"Perce!" the voice on the other end sounded familliar, even with the panic edging his voice. "You need to come down to St. Mungo's. Oliver took a nasty spill during practice today. I know he wants to see you."

"Is he already there, Harry?" I asked, realizing who had called me.

"They just left, they should be there about the same time as you. No, wait! I'll come to the Ministry and pick you up."

I was standing on the front steps of the Ministry, waiting for Harry to arrive, praying he wouldn't be riding that infernal machine of his. I heard a loud roaring down the road and saw a black, silver, and emerald motorbike coming down the street. No such luck.

He screached to a halt by the steps and held a helmet and leather jacket out to me. I grudgingly slipped the helmet on, and zipped up the jacket. As much as I hated the blasted thing, I didn't want to be killed on it, as I was sure I would one day. "You know I hate this monstrosity, right?" I asked slipping on behind him.

"There was no time to run for my car. Quit your bitching and hold on!"

I wrapped my arms around his waist, probably more tightly than necessary, but I hate motorbikes. I closed my eyes and prayed we wouldn't run into anything. Harry was pulling to a halt in what I thought to be less time than it should have taken for us to get to the hospital. We were there, however, and Harry was cutting of the engine, and slipping the keys into the pocket of his jacket. As I shakily stepped of the thing, he put down the kickstand and I stuffed my jacket and helmet in the storage space on back. He carried his helmet in with him, under his arm. I followed him, and down a few corridors when we were heralded by twin voices. "Harry, Percy!"

Fred and George. Of course they'd be here. I bet the whole team was. Why was I so dissapointed about that? I rushed into the room and pulled my friend into a hug. I hardly noticed that everyone but one of the nurses had left. "How're you holding up, there, buddy?" I asked, smiling weakly.

He groaned. "Not so good. My leg hurts. They said I might not be able to play again. And even if I could, I'll have to take off at least one season for rehab." He sighed. "Perky, I broke it so bad, they're healing it in a sort-of Muggle way. They're making a magical cast for it. No stairs though. Means, not my flat."

"You can stay with me," I blurted out without thinking. "I have a spare room. And there's no stairs."

"That'd be great.. I should be out in two days. Will you come back and see me tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow."

He smacked me upside the head. "No nerdiness right now."

"Hey, I may be a nerd, but at least I'm a nice nerd."

"True. I'm kinda tired, mate." He yawned. "And you need to get back to work."

I brushed my thumb across his forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow, my friend."


I couldn't concentrate at work the rest of the day. All anyone could talk about was the news they'd heard on their lunch break. Oliver Wood had fallen from his broom. And then came the rumours. Some said they were sure he had been seen brewing absynth. Others said he must have been taking the Ferox potion for his stamina all these years, if only a little tumble during practice could harm him like this. That one made me loose my temper. I shouted at stupid bint, asking her if she would crush her leg after a hundred and fifty-foot fall. She glared at me, but didn't say another word.

Mark - remember the secretary I dated six years ago?- he came up to me, and put his hand on my shoulder. "You were friends with him school, weren't you?" I nodded. "I'm sorry. I hope he's okay. Why don't you take the rest of the day off? I'll finish your reports."

"Thanks," I muttered as I pulled my breifcase from the bottom drawer of my desk, "but I'll just take them with me. I may call in tomorrow, but I can still get them done."

I took the Knight Bus to St. Mungo's, and sat by Oliver's bed doing my reports. He didn't wake before I finally fell asleep in my chair.

A/N: Just so you know, "As Yet Untitled" is the actual title of the peice. You'll see why later!