Rediscovering Feelings
The weeks passed, and true to his word, Percy threw himself into his work with renewed vigor. A surefire tonic against errant fantasies and lingering "what ifs". He became a permanent fixture at his office, poring over proposals, sitting in on meetings, planning policies.
Until one crisp autumn morning when a familiar silhouette appeared in his doorway.
"You're working too hard, Perce. That can't be good for your disposition," a gruff voice chided him.
Percy started, his quill scratching across the parchment. "Oliver! What are you doing here?"
"Good to see you too, mate." Oliver sauntered in, asserting himself fully into Percy's meticulously organized space. "Didn't realize I needed an invitation to visit an old friend's office these days."
As if on cue, a haughty-looking owl swooped through the still-open doorway, landing before Percy with a reproachful hoot. A scroll was tethered to its leg, clearly meant for delivery.
Percy flushed, realizing his faux pas. "Apologies, I didn't mean—"
"No worries, I'm only kidding." Oliver waved off his attempt at an explanation, unrolling the scroll with a casual flick of his wrist.
Even seated at his desk, Percy felt his pulse quicken at Oliver's familiar proximity. The other man filled out his burgundy Quidditch robes rather handsomely, a few errant strands of chestnut hair escaping the short ponytail at his nape. Percy dragged his gaze away with effort.
"I was just in the area and thought I'd drop by. See if you were free for a bite." Oliver glanced up with a lopsided grin. "I know better than to assume the most industrious man at the Ministry has time for breaks, however."
Percy opened his mouth to immediately protest that no, he certainly did not have time for frivolities, his schedule was quite full, thank you very much—
Yet something stopped the reflexive rebuttal from passing his lips. Perhaps he gazed a moment too long at the warmth radiating from Oliver's eyes, or noticed the elegant line of his throat as he swallowed. Whatever the reason, he found himself replying instead:
"You know what? That...actually sounds quite nice."
Oliver blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting acquiescence. A slow smile bloomed across his features, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
"Brilliant! I know just the place." He tucked the scroll into an interior pocket, stepping back towards the door. "Unless you'd rather have the historical tour of Ministry cafeteria Mystery Meatloaf Wednesdays?"
Percy couldn't help but chuckle at the jibe as he rose to follow. "Hardly. After you, O Captain My Captain."
The crackling fire cast a warm, amber glow over the cozy pub. Percy nursed his Gillywater, unable to meet Oliver's inquisitive gaze. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, laden with unspoken tensions.
Ever since their unexpected reunion at Percy's office, he couldn't shake the intrusive memories that assaulted him whenever Oliver was near. Memories of their Hogwarts days tangled together, of fevered caresses and whispered confessions in the dead of night...
Shaking his head minutely, Percy wrenched his thoughts back to the present. Those were merely ill-advised dalliances of youth, born from loneliness and confusion. He was a grown man now, respected in his career. Such fanciful indulgences were matters of the past.
"You're brooding again," Oliver's voice sliced through his reverie. "That familiar wrinkle is starting to crease between your eyes, just like old times."
Percy scoffed, covering his lapse by taking a sip of his drink. "I was merely thinking how peculiar it feels to be back here together after all this time."
"Good peculiar, or bad?"
"I'm...not entirely certain yet." Percy stole a sidelong glance at the other man, that same unreadable emotion flickering in Oliver's warm eyes.
"Fair enough," Oliver conceded easily. Too easily, Percy thought with a twinge of something he couldn't identify. "I reckon it has been a fair few years since we last shared a pint together like this. Seems like everything's changed, yet nothing has at the same time."
"You don't know the half of it," Percy muttered before he could stop himself. At Oliver's inquiring look, he pressed on. "My life has...not precisely gone according to plan, if you can believe it."
"Do tell? The great Percy Weasley, esteemed international diplomate, finding his trajectory waylaid by the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune?" Oliver teased, though not unkindly.
Percy felt his lips twitch upwards at the playful banter, a hint of the easy camaraderie they once shared. Perhaps opening up a bit wouldn't be the worst thing.
"You know me, always aiming for results through hard work and following the rules to the letter."
"Naturally."
"Well..." Percy hesitated, staring into the depths of his glass. "There was a period when I strayed from my principles. Rather severely, in fact."
He felt more than saw Oliver straighten beside him, no doubt waiting with bated breath for the juicy details of what scandal had befallen the straight-laced Weasley.
"You're killing me here, Perce. What did you do – rob a bank?" Oliver leaned in conspiratorially. "Finally let loose and streak naked across the Quidditch pitch like I always dared you to?"
Percy sputtered into his Gillywater at the unexpected bawdy jest. Trust Oliver to jump to the most outlandish conclusions.
"Certainly not!" he managed once his coughing subsided. "Merlin's beard, you always did have a knack for dreaming up the most asinine shenanigans..."
Yet Oliver's teasing reminder of their schoolboy days had Percy's mind veering towards other intimate moments spent alone together. The heated rush of skin against skin, panted breaths intermingling as they moved in tandem—
He cleared his throat roughly, sternly reining in his traitorous thoughts before they could veer into dangerous territory. This was precisely why he avoided situations like this – Oliver's very presence utterly scrambled his senses after all these years.
"If you must know, I temporarily broke ties with my family over... differences of political ideologies," he admitted at last.
That effectively wiped the playful smirk from Oliver's face, his expression turning grave.
"Blimey, you're serious. When was this?"
"During my early years at the Ministry after Hogwarts," Percy explained, staring down the demon that had haunted him for far too long. "I...may have prioritized ambition over family loyalty for a time. Bought into the wrong philosophies and agendas at a critical juncture."
A flicker of understanding passed over Oliver's features as he undoubtedly grasped the unspoken subtext – Percy's misguided affiliation with Fudge's increasingly corrupt administration and denial of Voldemort's return.
Percy braced himself for the look of judgment or pity he had grown accustomed to receiving whenever that period came to light. To his surprise, Oliver simply nodded slowly, considering his words.
"You know, when you put it like that, you're hardly the first bloke to go a bit off the rails in his youth while trying to make his mark on the world." A wry grin played across Oliver's lips. "If I had a Galleon for every time I let my stubborn determination lead me astray back in our Gryffindor days..."
The unspoken ‛I would have been rich' hovered in the air between them. Percy chuckled at the inside joke, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. This was why he and Oliver had always clicked, even at their most diametrically opposed – that ability to channel even the most fraught moments.
"You always did have a peculiar knack for putting things into perspective," Percy remarked, a rueful smile playing across his lips. "Though I seem to recall your stubborn determination often leading to bigger spectacles than mere words."
Oliver threw back his head with a hearty laugh. "You're one to talk! As I remember it, more than a few of those 'spectacles' involved extracting you from whatever study hole you'd buried yourself in."
"Yes, well, your dreadful penchant for disrupting my revision timetables was hardly helpful."
"Because you clearly needed saving from yourself, you great numpty."
The familiar banter came easily now, as if no time had passed at all. Percy felt lighter than he had in ages, an unfamiliar warmth blossoming in his chest. Had he really deprived himself of Oliver's company all this time, simply to avoid dredging up complicated emotions?
Oliver seemed to read the wistful thoughts passing across his face. The other man's expression softened as he reached over, giving Percy's forearm a gentle squeeze.
"We've both had our fair share of regrets over the years, haven't we?" His calloused thumb brushed lightly against the fabric of Percy's sleeve. "Yet here we are, somehow finding our way back to each other again."
Percy's breath hitched at the unexpected contact, that simple caress sending tendrils of electricity racing along his nerves. He found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Oliver's warm brown eyes, so full of unspoken meaning.
Don't read into this, he warned himself fruitlessly. You've traveled down this path before, only to have your hopes dashed.
Yet Oliver made no move to withdraw his hand. If anything, his gaze intensified, holding Percy's with a weighted tension that gradually enveloped the space between them.
Percy's mouth went dry as fragments of his long-repressed yearnings flickered through his consciousness like a magic lantern's flickering flames. The memory of Oliver's touch setting his skin ablaze with want...sharing hungry, desperate kisses amid tangled bedsheets while praying their roommates wouldn't return...
A discreet cough from the barman cleaned their table shattered the charged moment. Percy started, blinking rapidly as he was pulled out of his reverie. Oliver withdrew his hand, though his ears burned red in a way that made Percy's stomach swoop.
"Er, another round?" Oliver's voice was slightly higher than usual as he addressed the barman, avoiding Percy's eyes.
After the barman departed with their fresh drink orders, an awkward silence descended over their table once more. Percy found himself uncharacteristically flustered, at an utter loss for how to regain their earlier easy banter.
What in Merlin's name had come over him? Mooning after Oliver like a lovesick schoolboy, indulging in cravings for intimacies long since outgrown. He was a rational, accomplished man – such frivolous dalliances were unacceptable.
Then why did he inexplicably ache for a return to that heated tension between them, even for a fleeting moment?
Oliver seemed similarly flushed and out of sorts as their fresh drinks arrived. He immediately drained his Firewhiskey in one scorching gulp, Adam's apple bobbing rapidly with each swallow.
Percy watched the display with a sort of horrified fascination. It would be laughably easy to lean across the table and capture Oliver's lips in a searing kiss, chasing the lingering burn of the whiskey on his tongue...
He nearly jumped out of his seat at the intrusive thought. Get a hold of yourself, Weasley! This was the exact sort of temporary insanity he couldn't afford right now, not with his career and reputation on the line.
...And yet he couldn't quite extinguish that tiny spark of longing that had been stoked after far too long lying dormant.
"Oliver, I—" Percy began, then stopped short as he realized he had no idea what he actually planned on saying.
Apologize for my lack of decorum? Confront this unresolved tension that continued to plague them, even after all these years? Confess he had never fully moved on from what they once shared?
Thankfully, Oliver beat him to the conversational reprieve, adjusting his shirt collar in a telling gesture of self-consciousness.
"So! Did I ever tell you the story about the time I got banned from playing reserve matches because—"
And just like that, Oliver launched into one of his signature ridiculous anecdotes from his Quidditch glory days. Percy felt himself relax fractionally as they regained their easy patter. Friendly territory, where he could ignore the heat creeping along the back of his neck.
He should have known better than to entertain such momentary lapses of propriety. This was simply who he and Oliver were – mates from their Hogwarts days, nothing more. Any nagging embers of lingering attraction were better left to smolder and eventually extinguish.
Percy knew he should feel relieved at the prospect of locking those unbidden desires away once more. Yet he couldn't quite ignore the persistent ache that ebbed within his chest whenever their eyes met and held for a beat too long.