It was slowly occurring to Oliver just how little he really knew his dorm mate.

He wasn't going to pretend he did. He didn't. That was kind of how this whole mess started. Him with his childish behavior and now Percy felt like he had no one. He knew that. What he didn't know was just how wrong the assumptions he'd carried with him for the past six years were. The false beliefs he gathered from his own run-ins with Percy and from the twins, who often joked about and mocked their older brother for how odd he was-their words-compared to everyone else in the family. Never once did he take time to see if any of that was really true. It sounded true. Even though he'd put aside the harsh feelings he felt since the welcome feast in their first year, there was still a part of him that hadn't truly let go of it. Oliver hadn't meant harm at the time; he was eleven and excited to be at Hogwarts, of which he'd been wanting to go since his parents first told him about it and he was in close proximity to Charlie Weasley, who was practically a celebrity to Oliver at that time. He didn't care about seeing the rest of the sorting or Dumbledore's speech. He definitely didn't care for his new dorm mate who seemed to have a permanent stick up his bum.

He'd listened to all the wrong things.

And now he deeply regretted it.

Percy surprised him. Really surprised him. If anyone told him that Percy Weasley of all people, the school's designated know-it-all and all around stickler for the rules would be willing to pretend he was sick to skip class and lie to a professor, he would have said they were mad. They had to have been. That wasn't right. Percy didn't do stuff like that. He was the type of person people hid their plans from so he didn't tattle on them to the teachers. It felt strangely out of character, out of what should have been considered normal for the universe to have Percy go along with it. Yet, he had. He had and everything Oliver thought he knew was chipping away.

He didn't know what he expected for them when they had a few days to themselves up in the dormitory with nothing else to do because it was now believed that they were ill. A miracle, maybe. Something to snap him out of it. Something. Anything. Had he envisioned Percy's walls would have broken down in that short period of time and they came out of their quarantine with a strong bond, as if they had been the best of friends for years and not just a few days-that would be naive of didn't work out like that. People didn't get a happy ending every time. Sometimes, it took a great deal of work. Sometimes it didn't happen at all.

In the end, it wasn't any different than any other day from the past six years. It was discouraging to Oliver; even though he knew it was just a couple days into his newly formed plan to get to know Percy, he'd still hoped for something. Hoped for a reaction of some kind. At times, Oliver found it downright impossible to be hopeful, that eventually things would work out. He had to remind himself it was going to take time, he couldn't just expect Percy to automatically become his best mate after years of ignoring him.

For those few days, they did their own thing; Oliver observing his dorm mate whilst carefully writing out Gryffindor's plays for the game, and Percy did his-which mainly meant he stayed in bed, tossing and turning or daydreamed. He'd stare off in the distance, eyes unfocused, mouth slightly parted. It was kind of funny at first. Oliver had a chuckle at it. But now it was concerning. This wasn't an every once and a while thing or from getting lost while doing homework and having his mind wandering. This was happening a lot. Did Percy do that a lot before...it or was this new? He had no way of knowing, no way of asking anyone about it.

Technically, he could've asked one of Percy's siblings, but he doubted they would know. The twins, certainly not, They would gawk at him for even asking, not acting like they cared whatsoever. He wasn't much knowledgeable of the younger two, besides knowing Harry was close with the youngest brother-Ron, he thought that was his name. Ron and the girl-Percy's sister-seemed to actively avoid their older brother. On top of that, it wouldn't be right of him to air out Percy's business like that. They'd want to know why he was asking and he couldn't just forfeit his dorm mate's right to privacy like that. Percy would never forgive for that.

And Oliver would never forgive himself.

Percy didn't even seem to be aware he was doing it most of the time. Not until Oliver said something or made a motion with his hand in front of his dorm mate's face. Then the red-head would snap out of it, jerk a little and his face would flush pink. Oliver reckoned he was embarrassed. More than just being caught daydreaming.

But he shouldn't have been.

Friday morning, when they could no longer hide behind their ruse and were essentially forced to attend class, Oliver was ready to defend Percy at all cost. He knew the twins' little prank wasn't going to be easily forgotten. And he was right, unfortunately. No sooner had they got out of Gryffindor Tower and on their way to the hall that they came across a group of younger boys-Ravenclaws, of course. No surprise there. Slyerthins were the worst, with their blood purest beliefs and loyalty ties to You-Know-Who, but Ravenclaws were a whole other sort that Oliver despised. The stuck up, snobbish type who looked down on those they perceived as not being as intellectual as them. Not all, but a good majority. Enough that he had run-ins with. Those boys taunted Percy, leaving Oliver no choice but to step in. Contrary to what his dorm mate might believe, he had to really hold back. He wanted to wipe that smirk right off the bloke's nasty face. Percy could have died that night! He could've been long dead and no one knew. No one knew and people still felt it was funny to bother him because it was just a bloody joke. Why should they? There was that inner voice again, retorting. You didn't.

That's why you missed the signs

Because you didn't know

You didn't make fun of him, sure

But you were still guilty

You never noticed and you didn't try to stop it

Percy's lack of appetite worried him. Really worried him. The first day or so after the...incident Oliver didn't think he'd be up for eating much of anything. He hadn't, but was given some food anyway to munch on. Except for a few nibbles here and there, it mostly remained untouched. Not what he'd hoped for. As the days passed by, his dorm mate's habits weren't getting any better. If anything, it felt like things were going in the opposite direction, with Percy trying to avoid food. He kept saying he wasn't hungry, he was fine. He couldn't have been! Percy was a tall bloke like Oliver, it couldn't have been healthy for him to be like this. Did he do that before? Oliver tried his hardest to remember but he'd simply never paid much attention to notice the red-head's eating habits. Even today; Percy pushed around his cereal, his eyes showing unmasked distaste and made no attempt at eating any of it, not even half like Oliver tried to persuade him into doing. He couldn't keep doing that. It would eventually catch up with his dorm mate, he imagined. Oliver may not have known much about what his dorm mate was going through, but there had to be a limit. He was going to get hungry enough that he'd have to eat something.

Right?

It didn't take long for people to take notice of the change between them. If there was a change, per say. Oliver followed Percy to all of the classes they shared, which was basically all of them, almost. They walked side by side; Oliver wore a pleasant smile and a glint in his eyes that just dared anyone to mess with Percy, who kept his head down so he didn't have to look at anyone, clenching a textbook so hard Oliver thought it would leave an imprint on his arms. Each time when they got to their classes, Oliver plopped down in the seat next to Percy and received more than a few raised eyebrows from both their professors and fellow classmates. As for Percy, he gave Oliver a side eye as he sat down.

It was a good thing none of his professors were bothered by his change of seating. He'd expected some resistance, especially from Snape.

"Mr. Wood," Snape drawled, stopping in front of their desk. "What do you think you're doing?"

Oliver straightened up. "I'm sitting with my partner, Sir."

Snape sneered down at him. When he stalked away, the keeper slumped in relief.

For the rest of his teachers, he simply smiled at them and that was it. He did hold his breath until it was evident that he wasn't going to be forced to return to his original seat. On the inside, he did a little victory dance. Perhaps for more than just helping Percy.

He sat next to Magenta Clemmons in Transfiguration and she was nice enough, sure, but her perfume is what drove Oliver up the wall. She wore too bloody much of it, like she'd just taken a bath in it. He couldn't pinpoint the type of scent, something fruity; of course, after a while it didn't smell so much like fruit anymore. Now it was just plain awful.

"Glad you don't wear any," he'd accidentally mumbled out loud while he and Percy were leaving Herbology and going to their next class.

"What?" Percy looked at him, confusion clouding his face. "Wear what?"

He didn't mean to say that. "Nothing," he said, sheepishly. "Forget it."

As it turned out, Percy didn't do any of his homework from last week or the assignments that accumulated from when they'd been 'sick'. Their professors-Snape, reluctantly-gave him leeway for the recent work but for the stuff he should have already completed...it wasn't good. Oliver wasn't used to seeing teachers disappointed at Percy. He was usually their star student, the one who was used as an example and, at one time, volunteered to help other students. He may have meant it nicely but most took it as him being pompous and trying to boast to everyone that he could do it and they couldn't.

Now here they were, giving Percy a zero and shaking their heads. Oliver tried to make himself smaller, pretending for Percy's sake he wasn't listening to him get lectured and how just because it was his seventh year, he couldn't afford to slack off. Snape hadn't bothered to lecture the red-head, but his words were brutal nonetheless.

So it seems our pristine headboy isn't as perfect as he thinks," Snape's lips curled into a cruel smile.

They were in class with the Slytherins, naturally and they erupted into laughter.

Percy looked dreadfully embarrassed.

Oliver felt sorry for him.

Oliver felt really sorry for him. Percy looked like he was going to cry each time he was scolded and given a bad grade. But he didn't. He admired that about the red-head, he did have some strength in him. He didn't cry; he put on a brave face and accepted the consequences without making a fuss. But maybe Oliver wished he would have. Not that the old Percy would ever not do his homework, but if he had, maybe he would have fought for a second chance or something. This Percy didn't have the same pride the old Percy had about his scholarly accomplishments, seemingly content with throwing it all away and giving up.

That wasn't right.

When they got to Defense, Oliver wasn't sure how this was going to go. Lupin was much more mild in comparison to their other defense professors, less obnoxious too. Still, how was he going to react? At the beginning, before they got into that day's lesson, the rest of the class-including Oliver who did finish his-turned in their essays. Percy did not. He stared down at his portion of the desk. Lupin didn't call him out for it in front of everyone. It wasn't until the end of class that he mentioned it.

Oliver and Percy were gathering their things when Lupin stopped by their desk, smiling friendly and not at all sneery like Snape had been. This made them pause.

"Ahh, Mr. Weasley, if I could borrow a moment of your time; I noticed you didn't turn in your essay."

Oliver looked between them.

"Yes, Sir," Percy muttered. "I didn't."

"And why is that?" Lupin asked, his hands going in the pocket of his robes.

"I...I didn't do it, Professor."

"I see," Lupin rubbed his chin. "Well, that puts you in a bit of a jam, does it not?"

"Are you going to give me a zero, Professor?" Percy asked, tonelessly.

Oliver actually felt nervous for him. Before he could comprehend what he was doing and stop himself once Percy was giving a pleading look, he tried to reason with Lupin.

"You can't give him a zero for that, you just can't! I know it was from last week and all and he should've already done it but he's been stressed and it's seventh year. It's loads more busy than he probably expected. Can't you just cut him some slack just this once? Please?"

Percy's face was nothing short of horror.

...And puzzlement.

All the while, Lupin never interrupted and only spoke when Oliver had to take a breather. "Is that all, Mr. Wood?"

Oliver blushed, looking down at his shoes. Okay, perhaps he'd gotten a little carried away. "Err, yes, Sir."

Lupin chuckled. "Well, I certainly appreciate your concern for your friend but it's unnecessary, Mr. Wood-" Both Percy and Oliver deflated, knowing what was coming next. "I wasn't going to give Mr. Weasley a zero."

"You weren't?" Oliver and Percy said in amazement.

"I was not," Lupin confirmed and walked back to his own desk. "As your professor, I should probably tell you it's vital you finish your assignments on time and advise you not to make a habit of this." Percy looked ashamed but Lupin simply smiled. "But I think we can let this slide just once."

"Wha...Really?"

"Indeed," Lupin said as he poured tea into a cup. He offered them both some but they declined. Percy's response was so quiet. Like he was afraid of offending Lupin by not taking him up on it. "I've heard great things about you, Mr. Weasley. You're a magnificent student and I predict a bright future is to come for you. Although I do hope you won't fall prey to a burn out. I can tell you from experience it takes a great toll."

That must be what's wrong with him, Oliver had a thought. It made sense. Percy was so studious and dedicated all the time. Back when his dorm mate seemed normal, Oliver never saw him take breaks like one should have. He'd be going at it for hours, only stopping to sleep and shower. If it was possible, he would've done it then as well. Maybe that's what's been causing all of this. Maybe he just got burned out from trying to be the perfect student.

But something still didn't make sense. If that were true, if that was the underlying cause of Percy's troubles, why would he have attempted to do...that? He knew how important academics were to his dorm mate but surely it didn't run that deep. Surely he wouldn't want to die over not being the best. That was kind of extreme, wasn't it? Oliver felt more lost with that possible explanation than not.

Oliver's thoughts were cut through by Lupin.

"Mr. Wood, if I'm not mistaken, don't you have class to attend at this time?"

Oliver's eyes widened in alarm. He didn't even question how Lupin knew. "Bugger," he swore. "Flitwick'll kill me for being late again." He glanced at Percy apologetically. "Are you alright to go to class by yourself?:"

"I don't have class," Percy said, quietly.

"Oh. Alright. I'll be back for you so we'll go to lunch together, okay? Sorry to leave you alone for a while but-" Oliver was babbling.

"It's okay," Percy shifted from one foot to the other. "I can handle it."

Lupin was watching them in slight fascination.

"You sure? You don't have to pretend. Look, I'll even be late to class and walk you there," Oliver offered.

"No...It's fine," Percy was embarrassed again. "You're, well you're already late. You should go."

Oliver shrugged like it was no big deal. As if Flitwick hadn't threatened him-squeakily-with detention if he didn't start showing up on time. Such a thing could interfere with Quidditch. He'd risk it and that wasn't something he ever thought he'd say-or rather, think-but here he was.

"Go," Percy had toned down his voice and was urging him. "You don't have to babysit me." His lips didn't even look like they were moving. "I'm fine."

That was debatable.

Oliver gave him a look.

"Mr. Wood?" Oliver admittedly flinched, forgetting the man was there. "Would you like me to write Professor Flitwick a note for you? I believe that would go over better, don't you?"

Lupin was a life saver. Officially the coolest professor to walk the corridors of Hogwarts. "You'd do that?" He breathed. "Really? Blimey, you're great."

"I am hardly such," Lupin waved off the compliment, writing on a torn off piece of parchment. "Ah, there you are," He handed it to Oliver with a wink. "That should do it for you. You may have time to walk with Mr. Weasley if you both so please, but I should warn you to avoid Professor McGonagall. I fear she won't be as forgiving."

With that, Lupin went to greet his students that arrived for their defense class.

"I'm hungry," Oliver announced later that night when he and Percy were back in their dorm, laying on their beds. It was after curfew, so technically he shouldn't have been thinking of doing this, but they'd already lied about being sick and got away with it. The honesty ship had long sailed.

He didn't walk Percy back to Gryffindor Tower. The red-head won that battle. He kept insisting he was fine, quite frankly on the verge of a breakdown while doing so. It was still strange seeing Percy panic like that. Or just really nervous. Whatever it was, it wasn't like him. So, feeling awfully like his mum when she dropped him off to catch the train during first year, getting all weepy and sad and embarrassing. He wasn't weepy, though. Or sad. Okay, maybe this wasn't like his mum at all. But he did feel like a worried parent knowing that Percy was walking by himself. What if he came across those boys again or someone else? What if it drove him over the edge and he just went and finished what he tried to start?

Oliver could hardly concentrate on the lesson Flitwick was trying to teach. His stomach was in knots and he itched to break loose so he could rush to see for himself that his dorm mate was safe. Okay, maybe he was acting like his mum. So long as he refrained from carrying a slipper around and breaking out in gaelic when he was angry, he could live with that.

When Charms was over, Oliver bolted out there. He hurried past other students, yelling out excuse me but not really watching where he was going. By the time he got up to the tower, shouted out the password and came up to the dorm, he was breathless. He accidentally startled Percy, who was on his bed like always and didn't think Oliver was going to burst open the door, practically collapsing on the floor and panting heavily.

Back in the present, Percy looked at Oliver with a blank stare.

"You should be, too." Oliver winced on the inside. Ah, that was wrong. That didn't sound inviting. That was accusatory, like he was trying to get Percy to admit to committing a horrible crime. "Wait-erm, what I mean is, you must be starving."

Percy picked at dinner too. He took two bites which Oliver assumed more so had to do with him staring-encouragingly, not creepily-than actually wanting to eat. What was it going to take for him to eat a regular portion? Pass out and get sick? Oliver knew he was hungry, even if he didn't feel like he was. The red-head's stomach growled lowly, but Oliver heard it plain as day and Percy went red.

"I'm fine," Percy said.

He always said that. He was always fine. Never good or great or even spectacular. Just fine.

Oliver disagreed entirely with that assessment.

"I'm going to the kitchens," Oliver swung his legs over his bed. "Come with me."

"I don't want to."

Was it bad of him to think Percy sounded like a five year old? Because he did.

"Come on," Oliver tried to coax. "You don't have to eat anything.I promise. I just don't want to go by myself."

That wasn't true. He could've gone. But he did have ulterior motives. Percy didn't have to know that, though.

Percy was suspicious, probably rightly so. He was wringing his hands, looking like he was having an inner debate about whether to accompany him or not. "I'm not eating anything," he said, firmly-not really, though. Nowhere near it. "I'm not hungry."

"Okay," Oliver was just pleased that he accepted. "You don't have to."

"How are we going to get down there?" Percy whispered as if he were fearful McGonagall was right in the room. "It's after curfew. We'll be seen."

"Not to worry," Oliver had been down there loads of time, usually for a late night snack after flying. "I know a way."

He made Percy walk in front of him. He said the reason behind it was to keep a watch out for Clearwater or some other Prefect, or worse-Snape. It wasn't. He thought Percy might have second thoughts and leave. When they got there, they were greeted by an overenthusiastic house elf.

"Hello, Sirs!" The elf said in a high pitched voice. "What can Pippa get you?"

She looked at Percy first. He mumbled something, turning away. Pippa's ears drooped and her eyes filled with tears. Oliver diverted her attention before she could start wailing. He'd witnessed that before, when the twins had unintentionally upset one elef by declining their offer for food. The elf had taken great offense, thinking that meant the food was subpar and they all had failed.

"Can I have some chocolate cake, please?" he asked, kindly. "Some milk, too?"

A flash of determination crossed Pippa's face. "Pippa will have it ready in a minute, Sir."

"You don't really have to call me-" But she was already gone in the opposite direction.

Oliver motioned for Percy to follow him, sitting down on a stool at a countertop, tapping his foot on the floor. The red-head hesitantly came over there, sitting down as well but looking uncomfortably cramped with the way he pulled his legs and arms so close, preventing him from touching anything or anyone-like Oliver.

"So," he said.

Percy stared.

"You're growing facial hair," Oliver blurted out, unthinkingly and then he realized how stupid that was.

Good going

Percy didn't know what to make of that statement. "What?"

Maybe Ma was right. Maybe I need to think before I speak. "I meant," Oliver started over, "you've got a spot of a beard growing. You trying to grow some?"

Percy stiffened. Oliver didn't know how he could. "No."

"Oh."

His dorm mate hadn't exactly been keeping up on his hygiene like a normal bloke would have. In the years Oliver had known him, Percy didn't go around sporting facial hair. He shaved on scheduled days. Don't get him wrong, it didn't look half bad-in a bloke to bloke kind of way, not like he was interested kind of way-but from the face Percy made, he didn't think it was there to stay.

"Here you go," Pippa was back. She placed a plate with a large slice of moist looking chocolate cake with creamy icing and a tall glass of ice cold milk. Oliver's mouth watered at the sight of it.

"Thank you," he barely got the words and took a big bite, eyes closing in satisfaction. He let out a moan. "So good," he mumbled.

Percy was looking at him strangely.

"It's good," he defended himself.

He wished they weren't so prone to silences, but there they were, in another. The only consistent noise was from the house elves and Oliver's spoon clinking against the fragile glass plate. There wasn't much for Percy to do besides sitting, although it was good for him to be out of the dorm, out of his bed, even if he was looking like he wanted the floor to cave in on him.

Okay, maybe it could've been somewhat better than that.

"Are you ready to talk?" Oliver figured it was best to jump right in. Percy would try to balk on the subject no matter when it was brought up.

"About what?" Percy was calm on the outside, but Oliver was fairly sure he wasn't on the inside.

"You know what," Oliver was doing his best to be gentle. He wasn't trying to be like a parent or a professor. He wasn't going to back the red-head into a corner. He just wanted to talk. "About...well, you know."

Percy had yet to take off his uniform, he tugged at his tie. "No."

"We can't keep avoiding this," Oliver said and right after the words left his mouth, he realized that was the wrong thing to say.

"There is no we," Percy was shaking. Actually shaking. Oliver didn't know what to do. "There's no we. You aren't involved."

"Kinda am..."

He really needed to shut up.

"No!" Percy's stool fell backwards and landed on the floor with far too much noise.

Someone was going to find them. "Okay," Oliver put his hands up in surrender, "okay, I'm sorry. I'm not."

The brief flash of fire in Percy's eyes was beginning to extinguish. "I'm sorry," Oliver repeated. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just want to talk."

"Well, I don't," Percy said, harshly. "I told you I didn't."

"I know," Oliver admitted. "But I hoped you would anyway."

"Is that why you brought me here?"

"Kind of," Oliver winced at the flash of emotions that crossed Percy's face. The hurt that was impossible to miss. "I'm sorry. I'm worried about you."

Percy made a noise. "Why would you worry about me?"

Because I was wrong to ignore you over a petty reason

Because you deserve better

Because I want to make everything right

Because I've changed

Because I know better

"I...I just am," Oliver said, lamely. "Please, just stay. I won't ask you any more questions, I promise."

It was like an eternity passed before Percy silently picked up his stool and sat back down on it. He was watching Oliver the whole time, just to ensure he wasn't going to back out on the deal. He didn't. He slid his spoon down through the cake for another bite, but this one didn't taste nearly as sweet.

But it wasn't the cake's fault.

"Not good anymore?" It took Oliver a full five seconds to realize Percy had asked him a question.

"What?"

"Is it not good anymore? You made a face."

"Oh," Oliver said. "Ah, well, it's alright. Suppose I've lost my appetite for it."

Or maybe it's the circumstances that's ruined it for me

Percy was glancing at it with, if Oliver wasn't mistaken and he hoped he wasn't, hunger.

"Want a bite?" Oliver asked, innocently. "We can share it. Don't think I'll finish this on my own."

"I shouldn't," Percy shook his head. "It's late and...and there's not another spoon anyway. We can't share that."

"I can get one," Oliver said and he called for Pippa.

"Yes, what can Pippa do for you?" The elf asked, excitedly.

"Can we have another spoon, please?" Oliver said, politely.

"Yes, yes. Pippa will be back soon!"

"Wait a second-" Percy started to say but he didn't finish because Pippa came back with the spoon.

"Thank you," Oliver said to her and then gave the utensil to the red-head.

Percy took it and took the tiniest bite Oliver had ever seen. Chewing it far longer than he needed to. But it was a start. He was midway to reaching back for another when he abruptly stopped.

"You can have another," Oliver said, secretly thrilled. He moved the plate over some so it was now in the middle where they could both eat off it. Percy did that second bite, slightly bigger than the last one. "So, erm, that was nice of Lupin to give you another chance."

"Yes."

"Dunno about you, but I think he's the best defense teacher we've had."

"Yes, that sounds right."

"Now if we could get rid of Snape," Oliver sighed dramatically and made an impression of their potion professor's voice. "Mr. Wood, what do you think you're doing?" He rolled his eyes. "What did he think I was doing? Musical chairs?"

"Musical what?"

"Oh, it's a muggle game," Oliver said. "For kids. You're supposed to walk around a chair while music's playing and when it stops everyone has to sit down. There's one less chair than people so every round someone gets out until you have a winner."

"Oh."

Oliver felt like he needed to do better at lightening the mood. "I don't wanna brag or anything, but I did win last time I played at my little cousin's party."

For a moment, it was like the old Percy was shining through. "That hardly seems like an accomplishment," Percy frowned.

Oliver feigned indignation. "I'll have you know those little ones were competitive terrors."

"How old were they?"

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. "Bunch of six year old's..."

Percy stared.

"And you?"

"Fifteen..." Oliver said, sheepishly and quickly added, "I know it sounds bad but I needed to win! Those little gits were taunting me! I had to prove them wrong."

And then something amazing happened.

Percy laughed.

Okay, maybe not so much a laugh but a brief snort that made his cheeks flush and head duck down after. The first laugh he'd done all year so far. The first since the...incident. The first laugh the keeper could recall hearing in so long. Oliver was ridiculously giddy on the inside. This was progress.

Maybe this was the beginning of Percy moving forward.