There were two things Oliver Wood truly loved: quidditch, of course, and to his despair, one certain redhead named Percy Weasley.
It had been fourth year when Oliver had realized that what he felt for Percy wasn't platonic but romantic. Accepting that had been hard.
Wizards that...liked other wizards weren't very accepted in the wizarding community. Plus, Oliver was going for a career in quidditch, and that wasn't how professional athletes were meant to be wired. If anyone ever found out, his chance of getting picked up by a quidditch team were slim to none.
But still. Oliver just couldn't help it. Every single time he saw that stupid arrogant Weasley his heart did cartwheels in his chest. Butterflies fluttered around his stomach and he didn't even get annoyed when Percy handed out detentions anymore. That stupid prefect badge just made Oliver want to snog him even more.
Percy was an absolute pain in the arse and Oliver couldn't even begin to comprehend what it was about him that he liked so much. Except...when Percy was alone, away from his family, he really wasn't very bossy at all. He had a secret love for firewhiskey and was prone to getting tipsy several nights a week off of the stash under his bed. Oliver was sworn to secrecy about that, though. Oliver loved talked to Percy when he was tipsy. His cheeks got red and he let his guard down. He would giggle and jokingly slap Oliver. Oliver also happened to know that Percy had quite an unhealthy liking for pumpkin pasties and knew that (he was sworn to secrecy about this, too) Percy smuggled them to his room after meals all of the time. He loved Percy Weasley, so much.
But. If Oliver had one wish, he would wish not to love him anymore. He really just wanted to be normal. He wanted to meet someone, a nice girl, and be able to take her home to his ma and da. He wanted them to like her so much that they begged Oliver to invite her over again and again. But Oliver would never have that life, and he knew that. He liked lads. It didn't matter if he wanted to or not, he did, and that was an irrefutable fact.
To make matters worse, Oliver could not get a read on Percy's feelings. Most of the time he felt as though there was zero chance that Percy reciprocated his feelings. But sometimes, away from everyone else, in the privacy of their dormitory, Oliver could feel an electric current between them.
"Have you ever been in love?" Percy asked into the silence of their dormitory. He had been working on his transfiguration essay for the better part of two hours, and Oliver knew better than to bother him when he was doing homework. Percy put his quill down while Oliver tried to think of a nonincriminating response. Something must be bothering him.
"I..." Oliver started, unsure of what to say. What if Percy liked him, and then he said no? Then Oliver would ruin any shot he had. But what if Percy was talking about that Clearwater bird or something? Oliver couldn't afford to give up too much information with so little context. "Why do you ask?" He landed on.
Percy stared up at Oliver. That was another thing Oliver loved about him. He was able to maintain eye contact no matter the tension in the room. Oliver could feel Percy's blue eyes piercing into his soul. Percy could rip him open if he wanted to, and Oliver would only say thank you in response.
But Percy continued his silence, simply looking at Oliver. Oliver had the idea that Percy was considering something about him, although he did not know what or why. There seemed to be a kind of tension in the room, something made of light and dark and fire, like a current of energy between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, though. It was almost...magnetic. There was something there, holding them together in that moment.
"Nothing. No reason," Percy finally said, picking up his quill and looking back down at his essay, and the moment was lost.
The other issue was that Oliver did not even know how Percy felt about gay wizards. He was sure Percy had an opinion, as he did for every political issue, but he did not know how to ask about it without being obscenely obvious. Oliver could rest easy, he thought, at least knowing that Percy would not find him disgusting if he ever found out that he was gay. Or at least he would know that Percy would find him disgusting. It was the not knowing that drove Oliver insane.
But one fateful day, Oliver got his answer.
"Look at this," Angelina pointed out at breakfast, holding the weekly Prophet up for Oliver and Percy to see. "I can't believe people still think this way."
It was an article about the sanctity of marriage. It mentioned gay people and marriages between muggleborns, half bloods, and purebloods. Oliver knew why Angelina was angry, being a halfblood and all, but he was eternally grateful for her. She had given him his in, and she didn't even know it.
"Yes," Percy agreed. "You would think that the Prophet would no longer cover such bigotry, though." This gave Oliver hope, though he knew that Percy might be referring only to the nonsense about blood status.
"Weird that they included that other stuff in there, too, don't ya think?" Oliver tried.
"What, the stuff about gay people?" Angelina filled. "Because I don't think I've ever heard anyone talk about that here. Though, they're quite nasty about it in muggle London." Oliver nodded, knowing that to be true. What a shame that he was not accepted in either world.
"The Ministry has no laws against it," Percy interjected, "which I suppose is why purebloods are somewhat peeved." Oliver was unable to get a read on Percy based off of this statement. He supposed it was a good sign, that Percy didn't say anything, because if he felt strongly about it being disgusting, wouldn't he have said so? But Oliver had never been this close before, and he was certain that if passed this chance up, he would never be able to get a casual opinion out of Percy without it being obvious why he was asking.
Mustering up his Gryffindor courage, Oliver asked, "do ya think there should be laws about it?"
Percy did not respond immediately, clearing not having anticipated being asked about it. For a moment, Oliver thought he looked uncertain, afraid. But Percy has always been a master at hiding his emotions, and his face quickly became neutral and impassive again.
"So long as it happens behind closed doors it is none of my business," Percy stated casually.
Oliver supposed that this really is not the worst response in the world, that Percy did not outwardly say anything negative about gay wizards. That Percy would be okay with Oliver as long as Oliver kept things more or less private. But Percy also did not say that he supports it, or that there should not be laws against it. Even though Percy's response really could have been much worse, Oliver felt sick to his stomach. The conversation moves elsewhere, but Oliver was unable to hear what his friends were talking about. He awkwardly moved his food around on his plate, feeling disgusting and different.
"Are you alright?" Percy nudged his side after a long stretch of uncharacteristic silence.
Oliver decided that he could not bear to have a conversation with Percy Weasley in that moment, that he would likely burst into tears after a second or two.
"Nauseous," Oliver practically yelled as he jumped up from the table and essentially ran out of the room. He rushed up to Gryffindor tower, trying to get away from the Great Hall, trying to get away from Percy Weasley.
Fred and George are sitting in the common room when he gets there.
"Oliver, mate," Fred stated when he looked up at Oliver, who has no doubt that his eyes are bright red and giving him the appearance of mania. "Alright?" Oliver wanted to punch both of them in the face, because they have red hair like Percy and probably will also hate Oliver if they find out that he likes blokes. Why were the damn Weasley's everywhere? Oliver decided that he hates that stupid family, and all of their stupid children. Especially the middle one, the one with flaming curls and electric eyes and shining freckles.
"Fantastic," Oliver spat out while borderline sprinting up the staircase to his dormitory. It was empty when he got there, of course, and he flopped down into his bed and pulled the curtains shut.
He fell asleep like that, crying and fuming and cursing the world for being so damn unfair. Why give him the perfect person just to make that person unattainable?
The next morning, he did not get out of bed. He was just so damn sad. He wanted to scream, to thrash, to tell Percy everything. Maybe if Percy rejected him, then Oliver could move on to someone else, someone who would accept him for who he was. Not someone who deemed any relationship Oliver would ever have to be improper.
He lay there for awhile, not getting up for breakfast or to change his clothes. Percy Weasley permeates his every thought, the very essence of his being. Percy's hand, oh so soft on Oliver's arm while he drags him through Hogsmeade to his favorite book store. Percy's bright smile as he discusses his plans for the Ministry. Percy's dreams and ambitions and the way he cares for all of his siblings despite the fact that they refuse to see it and the way he watches over the twins through their torments and the warmth in Percy's blue eyes when he looks at Oliver.
Oliver could feel that Percy was thinking hard about something before he even spoke. Surely their souls are bound, or something.
"Oliver?" Said Percy softly. "Are you awake?"
Oliver considered not responding, but he could never ignore Percy, and he knew it. "Yeah."
Percy did not respond, instead opting to pull open the curtains around Oliver's bed. Percy had always been very good at eye contact, but Oliver could feel that Percy steadily avoided looking at him as he sat on Oliver's bed.
Percy sighed heavily. "I'm sorry."
What? That had not been anywhere on the list of what Oliver had expected him to say.
"Why?" Oliver asked dumbly. Did Percy know why he was upset? Had he been that obvious?
"I..." Percy seemed to be struggling to find the words to say what he wanted. "I offended you yesterday, and I'm sorry." Percy finally looked up and met Oliver's eyes. And for the first time in his life, Oliver felt as though someone had truly seen him. He had the overwhelming sense that Percy knew.
"No, you didn't" Oliver tried.
"I did," Percy shook his head. "I don't know why I said that. I just...I didn't want-it was...I didn't how to-you...I just didn't-"
"Percy," Oliver cut him off to end his suffering. He had never seen Percy splutter like that before. Was Oliver making him nervous? "Why would that offend me?" He asked softly. He knew Percy knew, but Oliver did not think himself able to say it out loud yet. It was cowardly, but he needed Percy to say it for him.
"I'm not that daft, Oliver," Percy said simply.
The conversation lulled to a stop, leaving the two boys looking at one another. Percy fidgeted with his hands awkwardly, which was something Oliver did not even think him capable of.
In that moment, the world stopped moving. Oliver saw something change in Percy's eyes then, self-consciousness suddenly replaced by something like bravery.
And then their lips connected, and Oliver's heart exploded.