2018 Resolutions: Write about a Quidditch player

365 Prompts: (action) listening to the rain on the window

Bath Bomb, Rain Dance: Set your story in a heavy rainstorm

Buttons: Percy Weasley, "Why do I bother?"

Sticker Challenge, broom: Write about a known Quidditch player

Yule Ball: Write about practicing for something

Word Count: 571

Oliver ignores the heavy rain that beats down on him. Matches don't stop for anything, and neither does he. It doesn't matter that the rest of the team opted out of practice due to the weather. He is determined to get his practice in; it will give him an advantage whenever they have a rainy match.

He flies freely, sputtering as water finds its way into his mouth. It doesn't stop him. It's just part of the sport, and he can live with that. Quidditch isn't always easy. Oliver wants to be prepared.

It takes several moments for him to notice a voice. It's mostly drowned out by the wind and rain, but he finally hears a disgruntled, "Why do I bother?"

Oliver drops his altitude curiously. His vision is blurred by the storm, and he quite literally crashes into Percy Weasley.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Perce. What are you doing out here in this storm?" Oliver asks.

Percy stares at him incredulously for a moment, his mouth opening and closing without a word. "What am I doing out here?" the perfect finally manages. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

"Practicing," Oliver answers causally, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're ridiculous. Get inside."

Oliver starts to protest but quickly reconsiders. His boyfriend may be much more reserved than his brothers, but he's still as stubborn as the others. He shrugs. "So be it."

Percy lectures him the whole way back. By now, Oliver is used to it. Percy would make a fine professor one day; he's always so happy to enlighten people and scold them when necessary. It may be annoying, but Oliver has come to consider it an endearing trait.

"What if you get sick?" Percy continues as they make their way up the staircase. "Sure, Madam Pomfrey can fix you up, but come on. Do you really want to spend even a second sniffling and coughing."

"No, dear," Oliver answers dryly.

Percy glances at him. His skin is dotted by droplets of rain, but a deep blush is visible in his cheeks. "Why do you sound so condescending?"

"Why are you so distrustful?"

Percy's blush darkens, but he lets the subject drop. The rest of their walk back to Gryffindor Tower is quiet. As much as Oliver enjoys the silence, he already misses Percy's lectures. They can be quite amusing sometimes.

His boyfriend gives the password, and the portrait swings open. Oliver leads the way up to their dormitory.

Now that he's inside, he notices just how cold he is. Shivering, he quickly tugs off his drenched shirt. "Kinda cold," he mutters.

"And whose fault is that?" Percy asks without sympathy as he disappears behind his bed's curtains.

Oliver pouts as he finishes stripping down and changing into dry clothes. "Still cold," he says.

Percy gestures him close with a quick crook of his finger; Oliver happily follows, allowing his boyfriend to wrap his arms around him.

The rain still pounds against the window, tempting Oliver. The sky is calling out to him, and he wants more than anything to get back out there, mount his broom, and finish his solo practice. Still, Percy is so warm and gentle, and Oliver realizes that he's perfectly happy to remain in his arms.

Smiling to himself, he rests his head against Percy's shoulder. It seems impossible, but maybe he's found something he loves more than Quidditch.