Disclaimer: J.K. owns them. We don't.
Warning: Slashy. Very slashy, in fact. So if you don't like the slashyness, don't read this. Go read something un-slashy. Yeah.
A/N: Thanks to Brat Prince and Val Mora for reviewing! Here's the final installment. J
Several blush reapplications later, Kimberly and Penny emerged from the bathroom. Kimberly was frantic to find Oliver, although, noted Penny wryly, not enough to prevent her from making absolutely sure her appearance was pristine first.
"Hmm…" the blonde murmured with a frown, as they walked backed to the Great Hall. "I wonder where he is- I can't believe he didn't wait for me."
"Perhaps he's sitting broken in a dark corner, wilting in the absence of your sparkling presence," Penny muttered sarcastically.
"Oh, no! You're right- I have been away from him for too long! He must be absolutely crushed. We've got to go find him!" Kimberly shrieked. She grabbed Penny's arm and began dragging her madly back to the Great Hall.
"Oh, my poor Olly-Wolly," the blonde sighed dramatically, "I do hope he's all right. He gets terribly lonely whenever we're apart, you know." Penny followed her, rolling her eyes.
Kimberly was so fixated on getting back to the hall that she failed to notice the open doorway on the right (the castle decided to do a little meddling of its own had once again rearranged the rooms). Penny did, however, and what she saw there stopped her cold.
"Yes!" she whispered gleefully from the doorway, as she looked into the room. Oliver didn't seem lonely at all. Far from it, in fact. "Way to go, Percy!"
"Penny..." Kimberly whined stomping back to her. "What are you looking at?"
"Nothing!" Penny yelped, quickly shutting the door and turning around.
"Come on, I want to see!"
"You can't! It's a just dirty- very dirty- broom closet." Penny hastily stepped in front of Kimberly and tried to herd her back towards the Great Hall.
Kimberly, however, was not to be deterred. She maneuvered around Penny with surprising agility and dashed to the room. Panicked, Penny slammed her foot down on the hem of Kimberly's green dress robes.
A sickening ripping sound filled the corridor, followed by the blonde's startled gasp. Kimberly halted, completely stupefied. She turned to face Penny, in the process tearing off the back of her robes. Her beautiful face contorted in rage, Kimberly opened her mouth.
Penelope, anticipating another hysterical outburst, hurriedly lunged at Kimberly. She clamped her hand over the blonde's mouth and, after a great deal of muffled shouts and kicking, Penny managed to wrestle her, once again, to the ladies room.
*God, how I hate this bathroom.*
*~*~*~*
Percy really didn't want to open his eyes. Bits of light were dancing on the inside of his eyelids, making the whole world spin, even though he couldn't see anything. Then there was the slight matter of his head. It felt as though a small rodent with very sharp claws inhabited it. Vaguely Percy wished that he didn't have to open his eyes but he couldn't very well lie here forever. If he was sick, he would have to call the Ministry and tell them he wasn't coming in today. Or was it the weekend? He couldn't quite remember.
Percy opened one eye and immediately wished he hadn't. The screaming white walls were reflecting sunlight directly into his one vulnerable eye with more force than the rodent was scrabbling in his head. Percy groaned. What had possessed him to paint his room white? It was such an aggressive color.
Wait a minute, he thought, my room isn't white! It was a sort of bland beige color- much easier on the eyes. Percy sat up abruptly, both eyes open. Then he groaned again and fell back onto the pillow, pulling the blankets over his eyes as a multitude of aches and pains crashed down upon him. He felt as though he had been pounded all over with hammers. He gingerly touched his jaw, wincing when he felt a bruise he didn't remember getting.
Just then Percy heard the sound of someone turning over beside him. He very carefully opened his eyes again and sat up looking next to him. What the…?
Percy blinked. Percy blinked again. How odd…Oliver Wood seemed to be lying in the bed beside him and not wearing very much at all. Percy blinked several times in quick succession, but Oliver didn't go away.
I know! thought Percy, triumphantly, lying back down, I'm dreaming. That explains it all. Now all I have to do is fall asleep so I can wake up.
Careful not to disturb the sleeping man beside him (Percy was always polite, even in dreams), he lay back down and shut his eyes, smiling faintly. And if he snuggled closer to Oliver- hey, it was a dream, he could do what he liked.
Unfortunately his mind chose that precise moment to remind him of the previous night's events. Percy's eyes snapped open in horror. He recalled a lot of grasshoppers, picking a fight with Marcus Flint, and a very nice long kiss….
Oh God.
"Arrh!" Percy groaned loudly this time and sat up, covering his face with his hands.
That woke up Oliver.
The brown-eyed boy smiled sleepily and yawned.
"Morning, Perce, How are you feeling?"
The only answer he received was a garbled moan.
Oliver laughed softly. He had been expecting this. "Do you remember anything about last night?" he asked gently.
"Grasshoppers, Flint, kiss…." The last word came out as a whisper. Percy was still covering his face with his hands; he was rather liking the "If I can't see you, you can't see me" logic at the moment.
"That's about all there was, so don't worry," Oliver replied. "You kind of passed out afterwards."
Percy decided it would be okay to peek through his fingers. Oliver saw him and grinned. He rolled over and gently drew Percy's hands away from his terrified face.
Percy suddenly felt very warm and even more uncomfortable; Oliver's body was pressed to his own. The Quidditch player brushed a strand of red hair off Percy's forehead, mimicking his action the night before. Percy swallowed heavily but didn't flinch. Oliver ran his hand slowly down Percy's face, causing the redhead's breathing to quicken imperceptibly. As Oliver leaned closer in, Percy froze.
"I'm not…I'm not like that," he blurted.
"You're not?" Oliver said, his eyes brimming with suppressed laughter. It was rather obvious that Percy was indeed 'like that'.
"No...I mean I'm not gay." Percy said without much force.
"Oh, please Percy," Oliver groaned. "You're about as straight as the yellow brick road."
"I am NOT!" Percy cried.
Really? Oliver thought sceptically. Then I'll just have to prove it to you. Percy was in the process off tearing the comforter off when Oliver's hand stayed him.
"So you aren't gay?" he asked.
"N-no." Percy's breath hitched as Oliver's hands began to move down, unbuttoning his shirt with excruciating slowness.
"Really?" Oliver undid the last button.
"Uh-huh," Percy peeped. Oliver's hands were slowly rubbing up and down his chest.
"Are you sure?" The hands were now buried in Percy's shirt, easing it off him.
"I'm sure," Percy gulped. The onslaught of Oliver's hands left Percy's body burning and aching at the same time.
"Positive?" Oliver began to trace hypnotic circles around Percy's nipples.
"Yes...I…" Percy gasped.
"So…this doesn't turn you on?" Oliver asked with forced casualness, as he bent his mouth to Percy's nipple and ran his tongue around it.
"No…No!" Percy said, though a fierce blush stained his cheeks.
"And this," he whispered, pulling his own t-shirt over his head, "does nothing for you?"
Percy's "no" came out as more of a groan than a coherent word.
Oliver's hands pinned Percy down against the bed. He slowly straddled Percy and leaned over so his face was inches from the panting redhead. His warm breath made Percy's lips quiver. Oliver moved closer and closer until their lips were just barely apart, eyes locked.
He's going to kiss me, Percy thought.
Then Oliver moved. His lips, instead of meeting Percy's mouth, turned to press gentle, teasing kisses along Percy's jaw and down his neck. The former Head Boy gritted his teeth in frustration and need. As Oliver moved lower Percy stopped himself from running his hands through the chestnut hair, though he was unable to bite back a whimper. "Oh, God…" he whispered. At this, Oliver lifted his head from Percy's chest and raised an eyebrow.
Oliver's hair was sticking up at odd angles, his cheeks and lips flushed. He looked, well…absolutely fucking gorgeous. I want him, Percy thought. He gave his mind a mental kick in the pants for being delusional. I want Oliver Wood. It's a simple as that.
"So you're not gay?" Percy looked at Oliver and didn't say a word for a moment.
"I…I…oh bugger it, I am." With that, he pulled Oliver's mouth to his own.
Epilogue
Percy and Oliver sat at their kitchen table eating breakfast. Well, Percy sat, Oliver was sort of slumped down in his chair waiting for his coffee to percolate. Percy hunched over the business section of the Daily Prophet frowning at the freelance article he had consented to write about the inflation of Gringotts exchange rates. There were at least TEN misspellings! To think, calling him 'Percivelle Whisley'; he would never work for them again. As he indignantly turned to show Oliver the grievous errors a gentle tapping interrupted him.
Oliver, still in his Quidditch pyjamas, sighed and got up from the table, stretching languidly. Crossing to the window he opened it and let in a tawny owl laden down with numerous envelopes.
Resting on the table, the owl carefully removed two letters from the multitude tied around its legs. After stealing a bite of Percy's toast the owl flew away, nearly upsetting Oliver's orange juice in the process.
Grabbing the black coffee fresh off the percolator and chugging it in an effort to keep his eyes open, Oliver tore his vellum envelope open. An eager smile lit his face as he read.
"What is it?" Percy asked, mildly curious.
"We have been 'cordially invited to the fifteenth-year reunion of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Class of 1997'."
"Oh no," Percy gasped, lowering the paper in horror. "Not again!"
"Oh yes!" Oliver said, shoving the letter in Percy's face.
"I am not going!" Percy insisted. He snapped the newspaper in front of the brandished invitation.
"Percy…." Oliver said in a voice that made Percy shiver.
"No," he managed firmly.
"Please?" Oliver begged. Percy buried his head further into the business section, saying nothing. "It'll be fun. I promise."
"Oliver you know I hate those kinds of events." He said, risking a peek over the newspaper.
Oliver slowly pushed his chair back and walked around the table. He wrapped his arms around Percy's neck and whispered huskily, "Remember how much fun we had at the last reunion we went to?"
Percy's face heated as memories from that reunion and especially the morning after filled his head.
"Fine," he sighed, twisting around to face Oliver, "but only if you promise one thing."
"Sure. What is it?"
"Keep me away from the grasshoppers."