October
"Wood, we'd like a word," Fred said after their next quidditch practice. It was the second one since he came back from the sick ruse that he and Percy had fooled the professors with. Training went on like usual, nothing out of the ordinary or anything to suggest it. He had seen the Weasley twins exchanging a look on occasion but thought nothing of it. Now, after the girls had gone to change and Harry had gone into the locker room as well, Fred and George had all but cornered him.
"About?" Oliver asked, not at all intimidated by them standing beside each other like that.
They wasted no time getting straight to the point.
"You've been sitting with our brother," George said in a slightly accusatory tone.
"Right," Oliver nodded.
"Why?" Fred asked like the mere notion was something he couldn't fathom.
"Why not?" Oliver retorted.
"Why not?" Fred repeated, giving him a strange look. "You do know who you're sitting with?"
"Percy. Our brother Percy. Gryffindor's biggest prat," George said with great emphasis.
"Oh, come off it," Oliver said scoldingly.
How had he not seen this before? How could he have been oblivious to how they treated their brother? It was second nature to them, because they'd done it so long with no one to put a stop to it. He didn't know their parents, it wasn't like they'd met up during the summer holidays, but he wondered why they just let it slide by with no repercussions. He'd heard Mrs. Weasley's howlers-they were practically legendary now. She gave off an authoritarian air, so he was quite puzzled as to how she simply let Fred and George continually speak about Percy like they did.
"There's nothing wrong with him. He's...he's fun to sit with," he said, not sounding as convincing as he'd like to. He wasn't terrible. He could have been much, much worse. It was just difficult, that was all. Percy had yet to open up like he'd hoped for; it made for days when they sat together at meals kind of dull. Oliver would talk to pass the time, with his dormmate responding with a one word or two.
That didn't mean he was going to give up.
He'd just have to try harder.
Fred and George didn't buy it. If the skepticism on their faces was anything to go by. They turned to look at one another, then back to Oliver.
"Are we going to believe any of this, George?"
"I don't think we are, Fred. It seems a bit hard to believe, what with Percy's reputation and all."
"Well believe it," Oliver cut in. "because it's true."
"Did you lose a bet?" George asked, looking as though it dawned on him now he supposedly figured it all out.
Fred snapped his fingers. "That is it, isn't it? You've lost a bet and now you've got to sit with Percy. Who did you lose to? Was it Lee?"
"You poor sod," George said mournfully. "Can't imagine that. You already live with him, didn't think you'd want to be with him at meals, too."
"And in your classes," Fred added. "We heard about that."
"From who?" Oliver couldn't think of anyone who would've mentioned anything.
"We have our resources," George said with his chin tilted up.
"And Lee said he saw you two in Lupin's class," Fred said.
"Did Lupin put you two together?"
"No," Oliver said shortly, already becoming a smidgen fed up with the conversation.
"Then why were you sitting with Percy?" George really didn't get it. Oliver was incredulous with the two of them. They were genuinely confused as to why he was doing it. Their lack of self awareness was astounding.
"Because I want to," Oliver said simply.
It should have been enough of an explanation.
But it wasn't.
"But why?" Fred blinked.
"What could you two possibly have to talk about?"
"What do you and Lee talk about?" Oliver raised his eyebrows.
"Or Angelina? Or Katie? Or Alicia? What do you talk about with them?"
They were rendered quiet, caught off guard by him throwing questions back at them.
Good, he thought. It's about time.
"What does that have to do with Percy?" Fred said.
"Right. Unlike our brother, we're not uptight gits."
No, but you're wildly out of control children sometimes
"Don't call him that," Oliver sighed. "He's not a git and he's not uptight. He's just-"
"A prat?" They finished simultaneously with a grin.
Am I ever going to get through to them?
He ignored the snickering that came from them. "When was the last time you talked to your brother?"
Their faces screwed up. "Talk?"
"We've talked to him."
"Unfortunately," George muttered under his breath.
"I mean as in a real conversation," Oliver elaborated. "You two insist he's boring and a prat, but when was the last time you talked to him about anything?"
Fred's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He was the more confrontational twin, as Oliver had come to learn. "Why are you being protective of him all the sudden?"
"I'm not-"
"Oh, Merlin," Fred covered his eyes, grimacing.
"What?" Oliver demanded.
"You're not with our brother, are you?"
"That must be why they're sitting together," George nodded in agreement.
Oliver gawked at them. "What? You think Percy and I are together?"
"Why else would you be sitting with him? You never have before," George said.
I'm trying to fix things
And he needs it whether he wants to admit it or not
"You both just don't understand," Oliver sighed. He wouldn't betray Percy by revealing his secret, no matter how much he wished he could so they could get it through their thick skulls how much their brother was hurting. He had to rein it in, though.
There's so much you don't understand
You weren't the ones who found him that night
Merlin, it gave him nightmares for the first couple of days afterwards. He didn't tell that to Percy, he didn't want him to feel any guilt for it. Godric knows he was feeling enough emotions as is. It was tearing Oliver up on the inside. Knowing but truly not knowing what his dormmate was going through and to witness with opened eyes for the first time how people treated Percy. All without comprehending how they'd willingly contributed to the red-head's breakdown.
"What don't we get?" George cut him from his own thoughts.
"Yeah," Fred said somewhat loudly. "Besides, he's our brother. Not yours. You're acting like you know him so well."
Because I probably do
More than you two
"Because-" Oliver deflated when it came to him that he couldn't really fully explain it without telling them. "Because he's just not as bad as you think he is," he said lamely.
He didn't miss the way they looked at him doubtfully.
/
Oliver was surprised, yet inwardly pleased, to see that Percy wasn't in his bed when he got back to their dorm. He seemed like he was looking for something, by the way he was going through his trunk. He didn't want to startle his dormmate, so he set his quidditch belongings down gently instead of dropping them carelessly like he usually did.
"Hey," he said cautiously.
Percy went still but he didn't flinch. "Oh. Hello."
Did he not hear Oliver come in?
"What are you looking for?" Oliver said conversationally, flopping down on the edge of his bed. "Anything I can help with?"
"It's nothing," Percy muttered, shutting the lid to his trunk. He sighed a little.
"You sure?" Oliver didn't want to ignite his temper again, but his curiosity was piqued.
"It's nothing," Percy repeated. "I've just...I've forgotten something, is all."
"Oh," Oliver said because he didn't know what else to say. "What did you forget?"
A flush came over the red-head's cheeks. He mumbled something unintelligible to Oliver's ears.
"You'll have to speak up if you want me to hear you," he said lightly.
"Razors..." Percy all but groaned. "I forgot razors to shave."
Right. He was still sporting his facial hair that he didn't seem all too happy about having.
"Oh," Oliver heard it this time. He smiled at his dormmate. "Why didn't you say so? You can have some of mine. I've got plenty, trust me. My mum makes me pack way too many. She thinks I'm going to run out and look like my uncle when he comes back from his month-long camping trip."
The joke was lost on Percy. He was focused on the fact that he was offered the razors. "Oh, no. I couldn't," he started to shake his head.
"Why not?"
"Because," Percy was looking embarrassed. "Well...I...I can't reimburse you for any of that and-"
"I never said you had to," Oliver cut in, showing him he was serious. "You need some, so take some. Like I said, I've got plenty. And don't worry, my mum won't care either. She'll probably tell me it's about time I have some manners." He hopped off his bed, digging through his trunk until he got to the very bottom, taking out two of the packages and tossing them to Percy. "Should be enough for now. If you need any more, just go ahead and take some."
They landed near Percy's socked feet. He gazed at them for the longest time, then slowly picked them up. He wasn't looking at Oliver as he caressed the packaging with his finger. "Thank you," he said quietly.
"Aye, no problem."
Percy got to his feet and went into the bathroom. Oliver casually followed, stopping in the doorway, aware that his dormmate was watching him out of the corner of his eye. He knew it was stupid; getting Percy to accept the razors was victory in and of itself, this was just going to push it.
"Must you watch me?"
"Sorry," Oliver grimaced. He racked his brain to think up something to say, to fill the silence that wouldn't make Percy rethink his decision. "So, er, what does Penny think of your beard?"
"What?" Percy whirled around so fast, his neck could have snapped. Oliver found himself holding his hands up in surrender.
"I was just curious. Some girls like facial hair on blokes. Wasn't sure what Clearwater thought of yours."
Percy's defenses slowly withdrew. Oliver felt himself relax just a tad. "I don't know."
Well, that hardly made sense.
"Oh," Oliver said. "Well, suppose it doesn't matter."
Percy picked up the razor. The water was on, a steady stream that was the only noise in the room.
Great, more silence. As if they didn't have enough of that already.
So, like a fool, Oliver filled the gap with more talking. "Been thinking about growing mine myself," he rubbed his chin. Okay, he was lying through his teeth. He'd never liked facial hair on himself. Ever since he was thirteen, he shaved because he didn't like the way it felt. But he had to say something and a little white lie never hurt anyone. "What do you think? Should I do it?"
"I don't know," came the response.
Oliver slumped a bit. One of these days, he was going to get Percy talking like a normal person.
One of these days.
/
They sat at the end of the Gryffindor table.
It just sort of became their spot on accident. They sat there at all meals because it was easier for Percy than to walk further down the aisle. Oliver couldn't grasp on why it was such an issue for his dormmate. It didn't make a whole lot of sense. But he tried to be empathetic about it.
Percy walked alongside him freshly shaven. He was extremely careful-albeit a little too careful, in Oliver's opinion-about doing it. Oliver himself had gotten nicked on a handful of occasions, usually because he never heeded his dad's warning about needing to be slow about it and not in a rush. When he typically was in a rush. But this just went a little far. It took Percy nearly half an hour to finish. He didn't even have that much to shave off!
Oliver refrained from questioning it.
Barely.
Fred and George had their eyes on him. On them. He felt it, the sensation was too strong to disregard. They were sitting with Lee and the girls not too far down the table. When he and Percy walked in, they had been complaining about their detention with Filch. Evidently, they'd been forced to clean one of the bathrooms by hand. Originally, they were ordered to clean two of them but it'd taken all of their two hours worth to get one of them done. So, that meant it would resume tomorrow.
Oliver made sure not to look down the table in their direction. He didn't want to talk with them right now or do anything that would make them start up a conversation with him. Or say something to Percy right, for that matter. He deliberately made more of an effort to engage with Percy, although perhaps he was going a bit overboard with it. It probably came off as him laying it down thick, though it certainly wasn't his intention.
He was a little more than miffed with those two, which was something he usually wasn't. He wasn't usually upset with anyone unless they'd angered him during quidditch-and that was more often Flint being a pest. He just didn't get it. He didn't understand how they honestly didn't see what was right in front of them. Them and the rest of the Hogwarts population that liked taking the mickey out of Percy.
He didn't mean to make it obvious. His mum said he wore his emotions on his sleeve sometimes. That saying always made him grimace. He wasn't emotional or a girl-he'd get swatted for that last remark. He didn't think that anyone was going to see anything different about him. It wasn't like he made a sign, announcing it to the hall. He really ought to have known better.
Because Percy did notice.
He could be creepily perceptive like that. Seeing tiny details of change, even if it wasn't apparent to everyone else. He'd known something was off when Oliver came back to the dorms after his talk-rather, attempted talk-with Fred and George. He stiffened, immediately blurting out a what, as if he feared the worst.
Like me telling McGonagall
Oliver knew he promised he wouldn't. He intended to keep it, he did. It's just...another part of him wasn't so sure he should keep that promise. At one point, when Oliver had been young but old enough to retain memories, he'd been told by his mum and dad that there were certain secrets that weren't meant to be kept. Certain secrets should be put out in the open. For his safety or anyone else's.
They likely hadn't been talking about Percy when the discussion came up all those years ago, but it fit all the same, didn't it?
This was concerning Percy's safety. His life. It made Oliver antsy. It wasn't particularly thrilling or comfortable to be let in on this sort of thing. What if all of Oliver's efforts were in vain? What if Percy went ahead and did it? It was a pretty steep drop from the tower to the ground. Even with all of Madam Pomfrey's power, he might not be able to make it.
And then what?
It would end up being all Oliver's fault. Who else was there to blame? He'd known. He'd known something was seriously wrong with Percy and he'd done nothing about it. He wouldn't be able to handle that being on his conscience for the rest of his life.
What sane person could?
Oliver was so lost within his thoughts, he didn't realize he was making faces and that Percy had seen it all.
"What's the matter with you?" Percy was giving him a sharp look. It almost could pass as being normal.
Godric, what he'd give for there to be some normalcy now.
"What?" Oliver said stupidly.
Percy was searching his face, like he was trying to figure out if Oliver was messing with him or not. His eyes went in the direction of the middle of the table, where Fred and George were staring at them. His dormmate tore his gaze away. "What happened?" He exhaled, sounding anxious all of the sudden.
"What do you mean?" Oliver tried to be nonchalant.
"Fred and George...they keep looking this way."
"Oh, are they?" Oliver feigned confusion. "Wonder why?"
He was going to confide in his dormmate about the talk he had with them. That would be a bad move. A really, really bad move.
"You did something, didn't you?" Percy was whispering, eyes widening in horror. "Oh Godric, you told them!"
"No," Oliver reassured him. "Swear I didn't."
"You're lying," Percy was shaking his head. Then, it seemed, he remembered where he was and was keen on not making a scene in public. Not after what had already happened. He went very still, but his eyes were conveying all that he felt in that moment.
It made Oliver feel worse.
"I didn't tell them anything," Oliver wasn't so hungry anymore. He pushed around the food on his plate, uninterested.
"Then why are they looking at us?"
Oliver dropped his earlier pretense. "Er, well, they asked me why I was sitting with you."
Good thing Percy hadn't been holding a fork or a glass-he would have dropped it.
"What?"
"It's true," Oliver said. "Swear I'm not lying. They wanted to know. They asked me after quidditch practice."
Several emotions flashed over Percy's face. He was getting overwhelmed-fast. He spluttered, taking multiple times for him to come up with a sentence that was both coherent and audible. "They...They noticed?"
Oliver scratched his neck. "Kind of hard for them not to, mate. Lee told them we were sitting together in class."
"How would he know?" Percy asked worriedly.
"He saw us in Lupin's class," Oliver said and then went on to add, "S'really not that big of a deal."
And it wasn't, right?
Or...maybe it was.
Uh, oh. Oliver watched as Percy started to rub his arms. He was really becoming nervous now. That wasn't good. He didn't think his dormmate was going to have a full fledged panic attack in the Great Hall, but he'd come close to it. "Hey," he lowered his voice so he wouldn't attract attention, not that anyone was caring about what they were doing. "It's okay. Really, it is. Isn't it?'
"No," Percy's breathing was getting shaky.
"Why not?" Oliver frowned.
"You don't understand," Percy said, immediately bringing Oliver back to earlier that afternoon. He'd said the same thing to Fred and George.
"Make me understand," Oliver suggested.
Percy hesitated.
"I can't understand if you don't let me know, Perce."
"It's not for you to understand," Percy's voice dropped so low that he almost didn't hear him with all the chatter that was going on around them.
"Why?"
Percy was taken aback by the question. He must not have been used to people challenging him on it. "You just aren't."
"Why?" Again, there it was. A gentle probe, but a probe nonetheless. It wasn't on purpose, but he got Percy flustered. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not; it could cause him to finally spill what was bothering him, but on the other hand, he might shut down.
What did he think Oliver was going to do with the information? Tell someone? That was the last thing he was going to do, even with the nagging inner voice that said otherwise.
"Why won't you tell me?"
"I can't," Percy wouldn't meet his eyes. They weren't looking at him or anyone, they were lingering on his not even half eaten plate of food that was probably cold by now.
Maybe he doesn't want to in front of everyone else
Oliver considered it a plausible possibility. Percy shrunk away from attention, the slightest bit of a chance that they could find out something they shouldn't. He didn't fully understand it-especially with the way his dormmate kept him in the dark like he did.
He tried to insert himself into it, to see things from Percy's point of view. The equivalent would be Oliver forced to talk about his quidditch plays within hearing distance of the other houses, namely Slytherin. He would rather die than suffer through that.
Maybe Percy would rather die than talk about what was bothering him where other people could hear.
...And maybe he should have used a different word than die.
"You don't have to tell me here," Oliver told him in what he hoped was a soft and approachable voice. "You can wait, if you'd like."
He had a faint guess as to what his dormmate would do.
But he hoped he was wrong.
/
They were back in the dorm.
The candle was lit in the corner of the room. The window was open slightly. Oliver felt the chill run through the air. His skin broke out in goosebumps. He wondered if Percy's was too. It felt nice; the dorm could get stuffy sometimes. He wanted to leave it open, but he didn't want it to be another reminder to Percy from that night.
"I'm not talking about it," Percy was somehow simultaneously tired and firm.
Oliver wanted him to.
But he wouldn't push.
"Okay," he nodded to show he was going to respect the red-head's wishes. He was in the midst of gathering his clothes for a much needed shower. Quidditch practice left him sweaty, which in turn made him feel itchy.
But then Percy spoke up again.
"I didn't want them to notice because of what they'll say."
Oliver stopped what he was doing, immediately becoming attentive. "Like what?"
"All sorts of things," Percy squeezed his eyes shut. Oliver was going to further inquire as to what kind of things he was referring to specifically, but he didn't have to. He came to the middle of the room, hands clenched into fists, deeply breathing.
"Why would he want to sit with you?"
Oliver's stomach clenched. It dawned on him as to what was going on.
"He just feels sorry for you."
"How does he even put up with you?"
"Did he lose a bet?"
Oliver closed his eyes, remembering being asked that same question.
"Are you a prat to him too or just us?"
Oliver couldn't listen anymore. "Stop it," He was nauseated just hearing this. But Percy...he had to experience it. "Stop it." but Percy was still muttering to himself. "For Godric sake, Percy, stop it!"
Without thinking, Oliver grasped Percy by the shoulders, ignoring the flinch momentarily, "It's not true. Listen to me: it's not true. None of it. I swear it isn't. Your brothers are tossers sometimes." Then he added a tentative apology in case that was going to set his dormmate off. It didn't, luckily. "I know I've been a right jerk to you since first year but I'm trying to make it up to you. I'm sitting with you because I want to. I want to be your friend. I know you don't believe that right now, it's okay. I hope you will eventually."
The dormitory went very still, very quiet.
Percy was rendered speechless. He truly looked like he didn't know what to do next. Merlin, that look in his eyes. Oliver almost felt like he should apologize; had he been too harsh? He wasn't going to coddle his dormmate but it seemed like ordinary interactions like this-if it could be counted as ordinary. Oliver didn't know what to think of this-made him freeze up.
What should he do now?
"I'm sorry," Oliver felt exhausted all of the sudden. Be that from quidditch practice or this emotional drainage. He released Percy from his hold, staring down at his hands as if they were some horrible, wretched thing. "Merlin, I'm sorry, Percy. I didn't...I shouldn't have-"
"Did you mean it?" Percy was distinctly uncomfortable asking. "All of it. Did you mean it?"
"Of course," Oliver said automatically. "Of course I do."
"But why?"
"Why what?" Oliver knew what he was asking. He wanted Percy to explain it. Make him think about it.
"Why do you..care?" Percy's lips turned into a frown at the word. "I don't understand."
And I hate that you don't
"Why wouldn't I care?" Oliver answered with a question of his own.
That seemed to stump his dormmate. He was silent for several minutes. Oliver was going to wave his wand to see if it would help. He didn't have to. "You don't have any reason to," Percy eventually decided on.
"Why don't I have a reason?"
Percy was giving off an impression that he was this close to pulling his hair out. Oliver's questions were driving him mad. "Why would you? You never have before. If it's just because of...because of that, then don't bother. I don't want your pity."
Oliver had to take a second to form words. "It's not pity," he pushed as much honesty as he could into those three words. "And it's not just because of that night, well, er, it kinda is but it's not."
Percy's face was stony.
"I messed up, alright? Know it's hard to imagine, but I did," he joked feebly and then sobered up. "I was an idiot not to talk to you again. We were just eleven. I know I can't change it but I want you to know I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Percy."
He endured what felt like an eternity and a half of his dormmate staring at him once again.
Percy swallowed. "You're not just saying that?"
"No," Oliver shook his head. "Definitely not. I mean it."