Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Reunion at Hogwarts
Percy Weasley drew in a deep breath as he approached the towering gates of Hogwarts, a nostalgic wave crashing over him. How many years had it been since he last set foot on these grounds? He ran a hand through his meticulously combed red hair, smoothing an errant strand back into place.
The mighty wrought-iron gates swung open in greeting, recognizing him as an alumnus. Percy squared his shoulders, adopting his best Ministry dignitary stance as he strode forward. Today, he was here not as a former student, but as a representative of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.
The path meandered through the expansive grounds, affording him views of the glittering Black Lake and the distant Quidditch pitch. Memories flickered like candlelight – nights spent poring over books in the common room, the euphoria of passing his O.W.L. examinations, and...other recollections he had determinedly tucked away long ago.
He shook his head, refocusing on the present. This reunion, while sentimental, was strictly business. The Ministry ceremony would commence shortly in the Great Hall.
Upon reaching the castle doors, he was welcomed by a familiar tiny wizard.
"Ah, Mr. Weasley! Welcome back to Hogwarts," Professor Flitwick squeaked in his characteristic shrill voice.
"Thank you, Professor. It's an honor to be here representing the Ministry," Percy replied, a small smile playing across his lips. Some things never changed.
"Right this way. The Great Hall is prepared for the ceremony." Flitwick ushered him through the oak doors and into the magnificent entrance hall.
Percy's footsteps echoed against the stone floor as he made his way towards the ornate doors leading into the Great Hall. He could hear the dull roar of conversation within, no doubt a crowd had already gathered for the event. Squaring his shoulders once more, he pushed open the doors.
The hall was resplendent. The four house tables had been pushed back against the walls, leaving an open space that currently hosted a sea of witches and wizards adorned in dazzling dress robes. Golden streamers and levitating candles decorated the air, casting a warm glow over the entire scene. At the front, a small stage and podium had been erected.
Percy scanned the crowd, recognizing dignitaries and colleagues from all corners of the Ministry. He allowed himself a moment of pride at being selected as one of the speakers for such an important event hosted by Hogwarts itself.
Just then, his gaze landed on a familiar face that sent his heart performing acrobatics he hadn't experienced since his schoolboy days. Oliver Wood, his former Gryffindor roommate, was weaving through the crowd, a wide grin lighting up his ruggedly handsome features.
"Percy Weasley! You sly dog, I didn't know you'd be here!" Oliver exclaimed as he reached Percy's side, pulling him into a brotherly embrace.
Percy stiffened for a moment, overwhelmed by Oliver's nearness and the unexpected physical contact. He managed to return the hug, patting Oliver's back lightly.
"Oliver, it's been too long," he said as they parted, painfully aware of how stiff and formal he sounded compared to Oliver's warm exuberance.
"Has it ever! How many years has it been?" Oliver ran a hand through his tousled chestnut hair – a futile effort, as it had never obeyed the rules during their Hogwarts days.
"I'm not quite sure," Percy admitted. "What brings you here today?"
"Didn't you hear?" A mischievous sparkle danced in Oliver's eyes. "I've been named the new Gryffindor Head of House!"
"You?" Percy couldn't hide his surprise. "But I thought you were still playing –"
"Not anymore, mate. Retired a couple of years ago to take over coaching duties at Puddlemere. Figured it was time to come back to my roots, you know?" Oliver said with a wink.
Percy was saved from responding as a hush fell over the hall. The ceremony was about to commence. He and Oliver took their seats near the front, though Percy couldn't resist stealing sidelong glances at his former roommate every few minutes.
As the Headmistress – McGonagall was still holding court after all these years – took to the stage, memories threatened to overwhelm Percy once more.
Sharing a dormitory with Oliver for seven years had been...complicated. As thick as thieves on the Quidditch pitch, yet Oliver's popularity juxtaposed against Percy's straight-laced bookishness bred no shortage of tensions. And that was to say nothing of the other matter entirely – the matter Percy avoided even dwelling on these days.
He had harbored a secret, shameful infatuation with Oliver for longer than he cared to admit. Percy scowled internally, chastising himself for allowing his mind to wander down that fruitless path. It was yearnings like those that had driven the rift between himself and his family for far too long. Unreasonable, illogical, unacceptable.
Yet try as he might to remain focused on McGonagall's speech, extolling the virtues of inter-institutional cooperation, he couldn't tear his gaze away from Oliver. It was as if Percy's eyes were magnetized, hungrily drinking in every nuance of the man Oliver had become.
"– which is why we are honored to have Mr. Percy Weasley here today representing the international partnership's overseas efforts," McGonagall's voice sliced through Percy's daze.
He startled, realizing all eyes had turned towards him. Heat flooded his cheeks as he quickly rose and made his way to the podium, straightening his robes again.
"Thank you, Headmistress," Percy began, proud his voice emerged steady and clear. "It is a true privilege to return to this hallowed institution today. To look out over this crowd, I'm reminded of how Hogwarts truly does shape the future leaders of our society..."
As he spoke about the joint Ministry-Hogwarts initiative, his words came with rehearsed ease and perfection. Yet throughout the speech, his gaze kept straying towards a particular pair of warm brown eyes in the front row.
Oliver never broke eye contact, his expression one of rapt attention and something else Percy couldn't quite identify. By the conclusion, heat prickled across Percy's hairline as he acknowledged the tepid applause while willing his flush to dissipate.
The ceremony continued with several other speeches before breaking for a reception filled with mingling and reveries of school days gone by. Percy no sooner extricated himself from one conversation than Oliver appeared at his side.
"Well then, Mr. Big-Shot Minister," Oliver grinned impishly. "Looks like those countless essays and lectures paid off for you, eh?"
"Yes, well, it was never exactly a pastime for fun," Percy replied stiffly.
At Oliver's laugh, that old fluttering sensation stirred to life in Percy's chest. He found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Oliver's smile – that irresistible, dimpled, devil-may-care smile that used to leave Percy tongue-tied when they were roommates.
Stop it, he chastised himself angrily. You're falling into those old traps again.
"What do you say we ditch this stuffy crowd and go for a walk?" Oliver's question snapped Percy back to the present. "I'd love to catch up properly and see the old stomping grounds again."
"I – yes, that would be acceptable," Percy found himself agreeing against his better judgment. "We could take in the grounds, reminisce."
He knew he shouldn't. Spending time alone with Oliver, indulging in nostalgia, was a foolhardy venture. His heart would inevitably betray him. But Oliver's hopeful expression rendered him powerless.
Oliver clapped him on the shoulder amiably. "Brilliant! Lead on, Perce."
Those simple words and the old familiar nickname sent a jolt through Percy's body. As casually as possible, he extricated himself from Oliver's touch before striding across the hall, forcing his rapidly-thumping heart to settle.
Throwing open the doors, Percy ushered them out into the entrance hall, welcoming the cooler air against his flushed cheeks. Oliver fell into step alongside him, their shoes clacking against the stone in an achingly familiar rhythm.
"I can't believe we're back," Oliver marveled as they made their way outside. "Nearly sixteen years since we graduated, and this place doesn't seem to have aged a day."
"Hogwarts does have a way of feeling frozen in time," Percy replied.
"Sometimes it seems like only yesterday I was hurrying along these corridors, already late for Charms," Percy said wistfully.
Oliver chuckled. "More like sprinting because you didn't want to displease Flitwick and potentially lose house points."
A small smile played across Percy's lips at the gentle ribbing. "You know me too well."
"Do I?" Oliver arched an eyebrow. "Because I seem to recall a time when you started loosening those prim and proper strings, at least around me."
Percy's cheeks flushed hot as Oliver's words triggered a rush of memories—secrets shared in the dorm late at night, Oliver convincing him to sneak out after curfew, that effervescent thrill of rule-breaking...
He averted his gaze, suddenly finding the grounds fascinating. "Well, that was a long time ago. We were young and foolish."
"Speak for yourself," Oliver retorted with a wink. "I'm still young."
The innuendo in his tone made Percy's stomach flip in a way it hadn't in over a decade. Merlin's beard, he was too old to be affected like a lovestruck schoolboy! He forged onward, hoping the fresh air would clear his head.
They strolled in silence for a few minutes, the distant sloshing of the Black Lake and rustling trees the only sounds. Percy couldn't shake the feeling that Oliver kept stealing glances at him.
Finally, Oliver spoke up again. "You know, Perce, I always figured you'd end up back here teaching. Maybe take over from McGonagall as Transfiguration professor one day."
Percy frowned, pondering the notion. "I can't say the thought never crossed my mind, especially in those final years. But I suppose my career simply took...a different trajectory after graduating."
"Into being a huffy disciplinarian, you mean?" Oliver teased.
Percy shot him a withering look. "Into civil service, if you must know. I wanted to make a difference on a larger scale than teaching."
"Hey, no judgment here!" Oliver held up his hands defensively. "You're living the dream – becoming all big and important at the Ministry. I'm surprised they let you out of that stuffy office to grace us common folk with your presence."
"Har har." Percy rolled his eyes, though he couldn't contain an amused smirk. "For your information, I haven't been chained to a desk for years now. Not since I was promoted to Department Head."
"Get out!" Oliver looked thoroughly impressed. "Already at the top of the ladder, eh? Percy Weasley, international man of mystique and intrigue."
Percy waved off the remark, but couldn't deny the small swell of pride at impressing Oliver. "Yes, well, I do have quite a bit of influence these days. The Minister values my input."
"Is that so?" A sly grin played across Oliver's face. "Well then, in that case...there is one little favor I'd ask of you, Oh Esteemed One."
Suddenly Percy wished Oliver's voice didn't still have the tantalizing ability to drop an octave lower, smooth as velvet. He swallowed hard.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked, aiming for a tone of nonchalance.
"You wouldn't happen to be able to...pull a few strings, so to speak?" Oliver moved closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial murmur. "See, turns out there are strict regulations around Quidditch equipment being used on school grounds. Dreadfully antiquated, if you ask me."
Percy caught a whiff of Oliver's intoxicating cologne, realizing their faces were mere inches apart now. "I'm...not sure what you're implying, exactly," he hedged weakly.
"Oh, I think you know." Oliver's eyes sparkled wickedly, raking over Percy in a way that made his skin prickle. "Unless you've forgotten your reputation as a stickler for rules."
The unexpected flirtatious overtones brought Percy's pulse thundering in his ears. Surely Oliver was merely having a laugh, as always. This couldn't possibly be...no, he couldn't entertain such fanciful notions.
Percy cleared his throat, stepping back to put some distance between them. "I can assure you the Ministry has protocols in place regarding proper Quidditch equipment for entirely valid reasons of student safety. I wouldn't dream of circumventing—"
Oliver held up a hand, cutting off Percy's rambling. "Easy there, Weatherby. I'm only having a go at you." His smile softened. "Though you have to admit, it was fun riling you up like old times."
Perhaps it was Percy's imagination, but Oliver's gaze seemed to linger overlong, a question dancing behind those warm brown eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed as Percy remained silent, inwardly cursing himself for being utterly hopeless at reading signals. Not for the first time, he wished he could simply ask—
The chiming of the clock tower shattered the weighted pause between them. Percy started, suddenly very aware of the passage of time.
"Merlin's beard, is that the time already?" he fretted. "I'm afraid I have another obligation to attend. I should be going."
"Yeah, of course." Oliver's demeanor shifted, a polite mask settling over his features. "Duty calls for an important bloke like yourself."
There was a slight edge to his words that Percy couldn't quite decipher. Disappointment? Bitterness? He found himself scrambling to smooth it over.
"This was...nice, Oliver. Truly." Percy hesitated, searching for the right phrasing. "We should make an effort not to let so much time pass before the next reunion."
Oliver offered a tight-lipped smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sure thing, Perce. I'm sure our paths will cross again one day."
An awkward silence stretched between them, rife with unspoken words and lingering glances. Percy's head spun, his carefully compartmentalized emotions threatening to burst through their rigid constraints.
"Right, well..." He cleared his throat. "Until next time, then."
Pivoting on his heel, Percy strode away before he could change his mind. He could feel Oliver's eyes searing into his back until he rounded the corner of the castle.
Once out of sight, Percy sagged back against the cool stone, scrubbing a hand over his face. Get a grip, he berated himself. This was utterly ridiculous! He was a grown man, a respected public figure – not some randy teenager harboring illicit fantasies about his roommate.
Yet Oliver's presence today had dredged up a complicated swirl of feelings Percy thought he'd banished long ago. The easy camaraderie, the banter laced with double meanings, that inexplicable magnetism...it was all so achingly familiar. Like slipping into a worn, comfortable jumper.
No, he couldn't afford to dwell on such frivolous notions any longer. It was time to put this chapter behind him once and for all. Percy straightened his robes, reset his features into a mask of professional stoicism, and set off towards the Hogwarts gates to depart for London.
The further he walked, the fainter Oliver's laughing visage became in his mind's eye. Percy tried his best to ignore the dull, persistent ache that settled into his chest.