American love. American me. American you. American tears. American heartbreak. Oh, oh, o-
Oliver ripped off his headphones with a scowl on his face, throwing them to the ground. He dropped his Walkman and promptly smashed both with his heavy shoe, frustratedly cursing.
"Stupid magic... I can hardly listen to... 5 songs before this damned thing stops working!" He huffed, shoving the broken pieces into the backpack that he brought with him. He didn't much know the song that started playing anyway [1].
He slung the backpack over his shoulder and took his broom in the other hand, setting off into the distance. The light raindrops of the Irish countryside pelted his skin, and he pretended to not notice, pinching the damp fabric from sticking to his chest and wiping his forehead. It was by no means warm, but after miles of long intervals of jogging and running, Oliver was ready to fly. Being the ultimate quidditch player required conditioning, and Oliver was willing to put in the work. Having been scouted for Puddlemere's reserve team required its own work, but Oliver felt he hadn't made it yet.
Mounting his broom, Oliver put the other strap of his back pack on and hovered low in the air. He reached back and dug into the side pockets, his hand catching on a metal canteen. His face soured when the taste of the sangria hit him. He didn't know what was in it really, but he knew it was the muggle kind, rather than its wizarding counterpart that was marketed more toward vampires as it consisted of blood.
"That's actually terrible." Oliver complained to nobody in particular.
He screwed the cap back on the canteen and put it away, readying himself to take off. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of the little tattoo on his left hand.
It was fading by now, but it was a mere black-turned-purplish-blue line that meant as much as it did when he first got it. He pursed his lips, feeling the heat intensify in his body. The cool sweat that he'd slowly been coming to enjoy was overtaken by the sudden heat in his nerves, and he suddenly felt sick. He swallowed thickly, trying to force himself to pay attention to the present.
"What the fuck..." He muttered, clutching his broom with suddenly sweaty hands. With a guttural and frustrated sigh, he paused and just stared out into the hills of the countryside. He let himself think.
Oliver stared at the side of Percy's face resolutely. He narrowed his eyes, as though that would somehow make his gaze heavier. It was near midnight, and they were both sitting on a couch in the common room. Everyone else had gone asleep, reasonably so, but Percy was up studying for an exam and Oliver couldn't fall asleep. He was leaning against one arm of the couch, and his feet were resting against the side of Percy's leg, who was sitting crisscrossed on the opposite side.
Oliver could tell that Percy knew that he was looking at him, but Percy decidedly ignored his staring in lieu of rereading the same page over and over again. Oliver, to annoy Percy more and get his attention, wriggled his toes which were digging into Percy's leg.
Percy finally looked up from his textbook, snapping, "Why are you weird? Stop staring at me."
Despite the annoyed frown on his face, Oliver could tell Percy was joking because of the way he was biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh. Still, Oliver felt a little offended.
"Me, weird? You're the one up at 12:00, studying for an exam that you know you'll pass with flying colors. Me, I'm a well-rounded, well-respected quidditch captain," Oliver argued.
"Well nobody asked you to be here. And I'm not sure that I'm going to pass... which is why I'm studying," Percy shot back.
"Stop sassing me," Oliver rolled his eyes, kicking Percy in the legs.
Percy nearly toppled over. He uncrossed his legs and kicked Oliver back, ignoring the loud thud of his textbook falling to the floor. After they began rapidly kicking at each other, Percy suddenly stopped.
"Stop," he said gravely.
Oliver was confused, but he stopped anyway. "What happened?"
Percy shrugged, picking up his book. "Nothing."
Oliver rolled his eyes, but said nothing as they settled into silence. As Percy began to study more, Oliver's mind began to wander.
Lately, he's started to feel weird around Percy. When they were apart, he thought about Percy and caught himself smiling over nothing. It was embarrassing. He started wanting to impress Percy, because boy did Percy impress him. It made normal situations awkward, and he began to overthink things that they'd normally do without a thought. He couldn't even talk to himself in the shower without thinking about what Percy would think if he was watching. It was weird. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't a crush, but he knew all too well that this is what that was. It was textbook. The nervousness of all of their interactions, his want to impress, his glorified view of Percy. All there. He wanted him bad. In Oliver's eyes, Percy could do nothing wrong.
Oliver swallowed. "Percy?"
Percy looked up with apprehension, closing his textbook and putting away his quill and parchment. "I'll just look at these later," he muttered. He turned inquisitive eyes to Oliver as he did so. "What?" He said softly.
"Do you like anybody?" Oliver asked, internally cringing. This definitely wasn't the smoothest way to go about things, but he wasn't a Gryffindor for no reason.
"Why?" Percy deadpanned, really unimpressed by Oliver's question. He followed up quickly, before Oliver could get a word in, "I wouldn't tell you if I did."
"Oh," Oliver replied eloquently. After a long beat of silence, he spoke up brightly, "Well, I do."
Percy straightened up, finished putting his stuff away. He leaned against the opposite arm of the couch, tangling his legs with Oliver's. "Okay..." he replied, dragging the y. "Why do I feel like... you want to tell me who? I don't know, I might be crazy," he joked.
Oliver laughed drily. "Super," he agreed. He shrugged, "but yeah, I do want to tell you. I'll give you a hint."
Percy stared at him blankly and then shifted his gaze and adjusted his body, as if he was uncomfortable. He muttered quietly, "I'm not going to guess. I don't care that much."
"Oh," Oliver looked down sadly, before looking at Percy pleadingly. "Please? Okay, it'll be easy. It's a bloke in our year. You know him."
Without missing a beat, Percy guessed, "Is it me?"
Oliver stared at him, a little gobsmacked. Was he that obvious? To Percy's credit, his cheeks colored immediately and he rushed to clarify.
"That was a bit presumptuous, right? But that was a terrible clue. I mean, I literally know every bloke in our year. If it's not me, then I feel like you wanted me to guess that it was me. Which isn't funny. But it's okay, because I was joking too. About the guess. Because well..."
As Percy rambled on, Oliver finally came to and interrupted him. "No," he cut in firmly. "You were right. It's you. I've actually been in love with you this whole time."
Percy stopped talking, and he seemed to be at a loss about what to say. Oliver could see the emotions he was experiencing by looking him in the eye. He could read Percy like a book.
Finally, Percy said, "You're joking," just as Oliver said, "I'm so serious right now."
Percy looked taken aback, so Oliver offered, "I know you... probably better than you know yourself."
Percy readily accepted the out, clinging to that statement like a lifeline, because apparently that was all he was able to respond to. "I guess I can see why you may think that. But Oliver..."
"Percy," Oliver cut in earnestly, "I know I know you. And I know I love you. Believe me!" He implored with an intense gaze.
"...I do. I know you too, Oliver, and I do believe you love me. I mean..." He struggled to find his words for a minute. "Things have been kind of awkward between us." He said finally. "Have you noticed? Like every interaction seems tense, like we both don't know what to do around each other. And I..." he trailed off, going silent.
Oliver nodded sincerely. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. You're just so," he made vague motions with his hands, "you. I know I can be myself around you, but you make me do weird shit. I don't even know anymore."
Percy forced a smile. "I hope that one day it won't pain me to tell you this, but... I really do. Like you too, that is, so..."
Oliver sat up straighter, hoisting himself to sit fully upright. Percy seemed to know what he was about to do before Oliver even considered it. Once he did, though, Oliver threw caution to the wind and practically threw himself on top of Percy in his rush to kiss him. He felt Percy smile and then they were kissing on the couch of the Gryffindor common room, where anybody could've seen them. It was magical, rushed yet slow, and it was warm.
Even as Percy pushed him onto the floor because his weight was getting crushing, Oliver was still in a daze.
"Wow..." he breathed.
Percy nodded. "Yeah..."
"Do you want to... you know... be with me?"
"If you're offering."
(Obviously he was; they're dating now)
Oliver walked into the dimly lit Leaky Cauldron, his palms and armpits sweaty. It was slightly humid outside, but his perspiration was attributed to his nerves.
At this point, he and Percy had been dating for a few months. Even after so long, it was like the novelty would never wear off. He was always genuinely excited and anxious to see Percy. He just hoped he wasn't sweating through his deodorant every time he got like this.
The term had let out a few weeks prior, and Oliver and Percy agreed to go out for dinner just to see each other. Because that's what couples did.
When he walked in, he saw Percy waiting for him at a small booth in the corner of the pub. He had a glass of water in front of him, and he was intermittently chewing on his black straw while trying to control the bounce in his leg. There were random napkins splayed out on the table with equally random scribbling and writing on them, and Percy looked intensely focused while drawing a random assortment of curved lines.
Oliver took a deep breath before sitting down opposite Percy with a smile. "Hey," he greeted smartly.
Percy looked up with a brilliant smile, and replied back awkwardly, "Hey Oliver."
They sat in silence for a moment, and Percy looked around exaggeratedly before laughing and asking, "How've you been?"
Oliver didn't hesitate in answering, "Better, now that I'm here with you." He waited for Percy's responding laugh, that would start of as a short, quiet snort, but then slowly increase in volume and length until laughs would wrack Percy's body and all he could do was smile, replaying the memory in his head. And once that happened, like Oliver knew it would, he continued, "Seriously though, I've missed you a ton. Be glad I'm telling you this. I've been alright and... quidditching and stuff."
"Quidditching," Percy echoed with a smile. His gaze softened, and the smile eased off of his face. "I've missed you too. Be glad I'm telling you this."
Oliver's lips upturned into a small smile at the reference to what he said earlier. They began talking about any and everything, and this went on until Oliver could hear Percy reach the bottom of his cup with a loud slurp.
Oliver frowned. "Do you want another?" He offered hesitantly.
Percy nodded sheepishly, "That would be great, thanks."
Oliver went up to the bar, where he saw Tom, the innkeeper, in all his bald glory. He seemed a little busy trying to diffuse a fight between two seemingly drunk people, an old witch and a wizard who looked 60 years her junior. Oliver ended up waving down another person tending the bar, a polite-enough looking middle-aged witch.
"How can I help you?" She asked, fingers tapping on the bar top, itching to do something.
"Can I get a water? And um..." Oliver trailed off awkwardly. He'd turned 17 in the March of that year, and he hadn't really taken advantage of him being of age, but he figured now was as good a time as any. He saw the woman was growing impatient, her tapping becoming louder and more frequent, so he just blurted out the only thing he knew to order. "And two fingers of firewhisky!"
"A water and 2 fingers of firewhisky?" The witch repeated, not really waiting for a response. She was already uncorking a new bottle of the whiskey, water already made. Just a second later, she passed the water to him. She seemed a bit hesitant in giving him the fire whiskey, and Oliver thought she'd ask about his age, but she ultimately gave it to him without a word.
Oliver let out a sigh of relief and walked back to his and Percy's booth, where the latter's eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his hand immediately.
"What's that?" He asked, gratefully accepting the glass of water that Oliver handed him.
"Firewhisky!" Oliver answered excitedly, taking his seat in front of Percy.
Percy seemed at a loss of words for a second, before finally saying, "you are 17, aren't you?"
Oliver nodded, understanding the rhetorical question as the reluctant acceptance that it was. He slowly picked up the glass and brought it to his lips. Percy watched with rapt attention while sipping on his water. Immediately after drinking, Oliver's throat began to burn, and his face screwed up, tears beginning to prick at his eyes.
"That's foul!" He complained, smacking his lips and registering the taste.
Percy laughed.
"I'm gonna drink it anyway, though," he added, and Percy nodded in turn. Oliver smirked. "Want some?"
Percy looked at him, unimpressed. "I'm 16."
Oliver laughed heartily, having expected the reply already. "Maybe later," he shrugged with a smile, before bracing himself with a deep breath and throwing the rest of the whiskey back.
"Wow," Percy said as Oliver blinked back tears. "I hope, for everyone's sake, that you never become an alcoholic."
"Well for you," Oliver began, "I'd be alcohol-free for the rest of my life." He partially lifted out of his seat, reaching over the table to hold Percy's face between his hands. He pulled him forward and placed a wet kiss on the other's forehead. As Oliver sat back down, Percy pulled back, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Oliver could tell it was an act though, 'cause a grin was threatening to split on Percy's face.
As the night wore on, Oliver ultimately didn't drink anymore, only because it didn't taste good. Though they met for dinner, they didn't end up ordering anything to eat, until they both convinced themselves that the night was young and had run off to muggle London.
Now, they were sitting at a dingy greasy spoon, enjoying a meal. Though he wasn't drunk on alcohol, Oliver was definitely love-drunk. Their conversation was getting increasingly flirtatious, and he was ready to jump Percy's bones, if not for the fact that that would be extremely indecent.
They were both laughing at some story that Percy told about his parents' marriage, and as their laughter died, Oliver started staring into Percy's eyes. Percy diverted his gaze, blushing. He obviously was feeling a little awkward, but Oliver didn't really care.
"We should get married." The words were out before Oliver could even process what he was about to say.
Percy's eyes snapped back to him, startled. "You think so?"
"Uhh.. yeah." Oliver cringed. He probably sounded so stupid right now. He internally berated himself for making things awkward while waiting for Percy to say something. It was suddenly 100° in the little restaurant, and Oliver felt like throwing up all the low-nutritional food that he ate.
"Okay yeah... that's um- something that I could see happening in our future," Percy stuttered. His face was flushed red, and he was obviously feeling the increase in temperature too, if the way he was adjusting his collar was anything to go by. "Yeah," Percy repeated, firmer this time. "That could definitely happen," he spoke belatedly and quietly, glancing at Oliver unsurely, as if waiting for his response.
"Yeah..." Oliver trailed off, before he started speaking again suddenly. "What about now? Like today?" Oliver felt like beating himself in the head with a bludger. He didn't know why he kept making things so awkward, but it was actually getting ridiculous.
"Today...?" Percy echoed incredulously, laughing nervously. He seemed to be actually considering it, though. "Why the rush?"
Oliver averted his gaze from the way Percy was chewing his bottom lip, and cleared his throat. "Why not?"
Percy seemed to expect his question, and took a loud inhale that told Oliver that he was going to be on the receiving end of a long, long list of reasons of 'why not.'
"Oliver... I'm 16. You're 17. We've been dating for 5 months, for fucks sake. Nobody even knows about us. Who is gonna marry us? We're flat out broke. Mind you, we literally have like 2 months until we go back to SCHOOL! We have so much time..." Percy ranted.
"But like..." Oliver wasn't as artful with his words, so this was gonna take him a while. "We're in love though, right? Now is as good a time as any. People get married right out of Hogwarts, so what difference does a year make for us? That's one more year that we're married! Yes, we're broke, but we don't have to have an elaborate wedding. And as for who'll marry us... we're in the muggle world. Nobody will know who we are, and they probably won't see us again."
"Gay marriage isn't legal in the muggle world," Percy responded automatically, as if completely disregarding everything else that Oliver said.
Oliver grinned wryly. "I'm 17. I can do magic. We can just fudge a few things and..."
"We shouldn't take advantage of the muggles just because we want to get married! That's..." Percy began heatedly.
"Come off of it, Perce," Oliver cut in. "You know that doesn't bother you. Why don't you want to marry me?"
"I do!" Percy insisted vehemently. "It's just... I don't know..."
Oliver could tell that Percy's resolve was wearing down. He took Percy's hands, which were tightly bunched up into fists and resting on the table, into his own. He unfurled them, rubbing his thumb over the crescent moon marks on Percy's palm formed by his fingernails digging into them.
"There's nobody I could imagine spending the rest of my life with," Oliver began, looking into Percy's eyes earnestly. "Honestly. Yeah, we're young, but... I really do think this could work! And if it doesn't, then I really don't think it's that serious either." At Percy's reluctant smile, Oliver continued. "I think I'll always find my way back to you. But ideally, I'm always with you." Oliver squeezed Percy's hands. "Will you marry me?" He finished.
Percy looked away in thought for a second before looking back, a large smile building on his face. He nodded. "Yes, I'll marry you," he sighed.
Oliver smiled brilliantly, and almost leapt over the table to kiss his boyfriend-turned-fiancé, before he remembered where they were. He quickly slid from his chair, pulling Percy out of his as he rushed them to the door, hand-in-hand.
Shouting from far-away voices and Percy's panicked "we didn't pay!" alerted Oliver of the fact that no, they did not pay, and that as they were running, they were actually being chased by three angry muggle men. A young girl who looked to be about their age stayed behind, looking like she actually couldn't care less.
Casting a glance behind them to assess how much time they had before the muggles caught them, Oliver pulled an out-of-breath Percy into an alleyway and quickly cast a Disillusionment charm on the both of them. They both stuck to the wall and held their breaths, and although he couldn't see him, Oliver could feel Percy's panicked and furious gaze boring holes into his head. He ignored it, obviously.
The muggles, having seen them turn into the alleyway, rounded the corner seconds later. They were all red in the face. Oliver thought he saw a knife [2] in one of their hands. Obviously, being muggles, they were even less able to recognize a disillusioned person when they saw them, and they all wandered out of the alley slowly, one by one. The last one lingered, casting a curious glance around one last time. His eyes seemed to land on them, and Oliver had to throw a hand over Percy's mouth to silence his startled gasp.
"That's some mean graffiti," he murmured to himself, before walking away and catching the others who were all telling him to 'hurry the fuck up!'
Oliver dropped his hand from Percy's mouth, and had begun to reprimand the other for licking his hand but then realized he couldn't even see him. Upon dropping the spell, he saw Percy in his peripheral, looking wholly confused and embarrassed. Also a little mad. Oliver slowly turned to him.
A hushed argument, a long and heated kiss against the graffitied walls of the alley, and a hailed cab found them in a quiet courthouse with a judge looking down on them in contempt.
"You're 17, and you're 16?" She asked skeptically, pointing at Oliver and Percy respectively. "You're both males, and you want to get married."
Oliver nodded. "Yes ma'am."
"Your honor," she corrected. "Even if... gay marriage were legal, you'd still need parental consent [3], which I doubt you have."
At that, Oliver pulled out some pieces of paper from his pocket and presented them to her. They were blank, but with a little magic, the judge saw what she needed to see.
"Yes, well," she continued, obviously surprised that they'd had the appropriate paper work. "It's still not legal. I can't do this for you, and I can't say I'm sorry to say that."
"That was kind of mean..." Percy started, just as Oliver muttered a quiet 'confundo!'
Not five minutes later, Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood were hurriedly writing their vows, getting ready to be legally married in the muggle world.
The vows were short and sloppy, but they were meaningful declarations of love and intent.
"Congratulations, Mr. and Mr. Wood." The judge said monotonously. She stared confusedly at them as they made out right in front of her, seemingly oblivious to everything going around in front of her.
Percy, of course, was the first one to snap back to reality. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were red and moist. He was smiling, though. They both were.
Oliver spoke first. "We need rings."
Percy frowned. "We're dirt poor."
Oliver smiled, smoothing out Percy's frown. "That hasn't stopped us yet, right?"
And then they were off to the first tattoo shop that they stumbled across. At this point, it was 9:00 or 10:00 PM. Neither cared for the time. They should've.
The tattoo artist glanced between them as Oliver got comfortable in the chair.
"So, yeah. I recently got married, and I'm kind of broke. I just need a nice little tattoo on my left ring finger," Oliver explained jovially.
"Wow, congrats! Where's the bride?" The artist asked. She was nicer than she looked, what with her jet black hair and shit ton of piercings. Her attire looked straight from Snape's closet, and she looked a few years older than them, maybe in her early 20s.
Oliver spared a glance at Percy who was sitting awkwardly next to him. He'd decided against a tattoo, because his large family was bound to notice. His parents didn't even know, Percy had argued, and he wanted to keep it that way. He said that his mother, while eager for them to start families of their own, didn't want that for them before they were legal. Oliver understood this, and the same could probably be said for his parents. He just didn't care. Percy was always the more sensible of the two.
"Not here. It's a surprise. I have my um... best man here," he motioned to Percy, "and he's just gonna be here for support, if that's okay. It's his wedding present to me," Oliver said sagely.
"Of course," the woman replied humorously. Her tone took a more serious lilt, as she asked him, "you do know tattoos are forever, right? I feel like I have to stress this to you. This won't go away. Like you'll probably die with this tattoo"
Oliver snuck a smile to Percy, who was listening to the conversation with great attention and furrowed eyebrows. "That's the point," Oliver told her.
"Ah... okay. Finger tattoos are prone to fading, anyhow. On another note, I know you're married and all but I'm required to ask. You just look a little young... how old are you?" The artist questioned.
"19," Oliver lied easily.
At this, her eyes shot up. "Right, well... can I see some ID?"
Oliver confunded her and she let it go easily enough. When she began to get her supplies ready, Oliver figured she was under the impression that she'd seen his ID or whatever.
"19," she started conversationally. "That's quite young to be thinking about forever," she said, finally looking up. She met Percy's gaze, who had his lips pressed tightly together and had been staring at her the entire time she was preparing her things. "How old are you?" She questioned kindly. "You must think this is pretty wild, your friends getting married so young."
"Yeah..." He responded eloquently. "I'm um... also 19," He nodded. She nodded back, looking at him weirdly. In a rush to divert her attention, he asked her, "So we don't have to come back later? You can just do this right now?"
She smiled. "Yes. The groom over here is asking for something quite simple. Just a little black line, right?" She turned questioning eyes to Oliver.
Oliver nodded, and then he had his tattoo. It had a little pattern, which was more than what he asked for. He thought she was quite lucky that he liked it, because it was literally permanent ink and she didn't ask his permission to do what she did.
After they'd "paid" and left, Percy voiced this exact thought as he examined Oliver's hand.
"Yeah," he agreed. "But it's nice, right? You like it?"
Percy nodded. "Yeah, it's... wonderful," he breathed. He looked at Oliver. "We're really married, aren't we?"
Oliver laughed.
They took the knight bus back to the Leaky, where their night had started. On their way off, they were congratulated by Stan Shunpike and the creepy talking head.
"Last time we were here, we weren't married," Percy pointed out with a smile. "That's crazy to think about."
"I love you," Oliver blurted out in turn.
"I love you, too," Percy said back, automatically. "You're my... handsome husband," Percy added, the immediate grimace that followed showing his regret in saying that.
Oliver just thought it was cute.
Oliver's parents weren't really expecting him home, as he'd told them of his intention to spend the night at Percy's.
They used the floo to get to the Burrow, and as they stumbled out, they were laughing and joking, falling all over each other. Oliver had his hand on the small of Percy's back. He wanted to kiss him bad, but Percy didn't let him, in fear of being caught by one of his siblings. Or worse, his mum.
Almost immediately after they dropped in, they heard footsteps hustling in from the kitchen.
"Oh no..." Percy murmured, already knowing what was about to happen.
"Percival Ignatius Weasley!" His mother shouted, advancing on him. "You leave this house at 6PM for 'dinner with a friend' and you come back at 11PM, making all this noise! Where have you been? Your family has been worried about you. You're not an adult, you're 16 years old!" She reprimanded him, pulling at his ear.
"Ow! I'm sorry, mum," Percy begged. Oliver almost laughed at his boyfri- husband's reaction. "Oliver and I were having so much fun! We got carried away. I was meaning to floo, I swear!"
Upon the mention of Oliver, Molly paused. Her eyes finally fixed on him, and she let go of Percy's ear with a final few choice words. She wiped her hands on her apron with a slight flush as a welcoming smile graced her face.
"Why, Oliver, dear! I didn't know you were going to be here!" She exclaimed, beckoning him into a hug.
Oliver dropped the hand (he made sure it was the right) that he used to awkwardly wave and stepped forward, allowing himself to be tightly hugged by Mrs. Weasley.
When she let go, she sent him and Percy upstairs, telling them, "Go upstairs now! It's quite late! I'm sure you both are quite tired after that exciting 5 hours you spent together!"
Percy blushed and hurried up the stairs to his room, Oliver in tow. Oliver understood that Mrs. Weasley wanted them to go to sleep, but he could've sworn that he saw the lights on in at least two other rooms. No matter, they dutifully went to Percy's room.
They didn't go to sleep for another two hours after that, for they were busy... consummating their marriage.
There were silencing and locking charms.
They spent the rest of their summer seeing each other any chance they got, sending letters back and forth 24/7 like they were star-crossed lovers. They'd come out of the honeymoon phase of their dating lives, straight into the honeymoon phase of their marriage. When Percy turned 17 at the end of the summer, they apparated to basically every coordinate in the British isles, doing what lovers do. Life was good for Oliver.
When the term started back up, they were as close as ever. It was as though nothing had changed. Sometimes, Oliver forgot they were married. It felt surreal, like a fever dream. But then, he'd think about all the things he'd want to do with Percy, and realized that he could— because that was his husband.
It took a while for them to settle into a routine, what with Oliver's grueling quidditch schedule (he made it himself), and Percy's Head Boy duties. As much as Oliver loved Percy, he refused to cancel any practices just because he wanted to spend time with him. He knew that Percy would understand what was on the line for him, as this was his last chance to win the cup before they were off to graduate. And even though it pained him, Oliver had to start wearing a glamour on his finger, so that nobody noticed his impromptu wedding ring. It was even more of a risk during quidditch, because how was he supposed to make threatening motions or signal something to his players, if he couldn't even use his left hand to do so?
Despite all of that, they had dinner together as usual, and they slept in the same bed, taking to calling the bed 'ours' rather than 'mine' or 'yours.' Oliver thought he could spend the rest of his life like this.
It was a little late when he got back to their room, because he decided to get some extra flying practice in. He knew Percy would come in later than he if he'd simply went back after practice, so he figured that he might as well do something productive in his wait time. As he'd hoped, Percy was in the room already, sitting on their bed. He seemed to have just gotten in, because he was kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie. Oliver was sure he'd get up soon, because Percy didn't much like lingering on the bed in his outside clothes.
"Hey," Oliver said, depositing a quick peck on Percy's lips before propping his broom by the door and also kicking off his shoes. He quickly took off his other outerwear too, because he wasn't allowed to go anywhere in the room with his muddy quidditch gear, except maybe the window seat. Even the bed they didn't sleep on was off limits. Percy liked to keep a clean home.
"Hi," Percy smiled, taking Oliver's hand in his and interlacing their fingers. He squeezed it quickly before dropping it and standing up. Because Oliver was right in front of him, they were basically centimeters apart when he stood up. Oliver grabbed him loosely by the back of the neck, and was about to pull him into a kiss that Percy himself seemed to be leaning into, but then Percy suddenly pulled back, putting his hand lightly on Oliver's chest with a smirk. "I'm going to get ready for bed. Talk when I get out?" He said, easing out of the hold that Oliver had on him and making his way to the bathroom.
Oliver gaped at him stupidly, before rolling his eyes. "Yeah, okay," he huffed, to which Percy laughed.
Oliver sat on his old, unused bed with a sigh, falling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. He heard the tap turn on, and the sound of Percy brushing his teeth. Oliver had made sure that he'd nothing left to do after practice, because he thought he would be more tired than this. Because he was so bored, even though he wasn't tired, he considered going to sleep. He couldn't though, because then he wouldn't wake up until morning, and there were still things to be done. He still needed to bathe and whatnot.
He got up and began to look around the room at all his and Percy's things scattered around the room. He slowly began rummaging around, picking up random quills and sweets, the kind that Oliver knew Percy liked from Honeydukes. There were old papers marked with big, red Os. Those were obviously Percy's. At some point, he ended up finding Percy's prefect badge that he took off before entering the bathroom.
He put it on his undershirt with a mischievous smile, with the intention of taking it off before Percy came out of the bathroom and caught him with his prized possession, but as he began picking up more random stuff to see if there was anything useful he could rediscover, he eventually forgot he even put it on. So distracted, he didn't even notice the sound of the shower turning off.
A few minutes later, the opening of the door and the blast of humid air into the room announced Percy's emergence from the bathroom. As he passed to stow away his dirty clothes, Oliver could smell the shampoo that he used on his slightly damp, curly hair. He watched the other silently, waiting for him to acknowledge his presence.
When Percy finally turned around, he seemed to pause for a moment. "What are you doing?" He asked, genuine curiosity tinging his voice. Oliver realized that Percy was looking at his chest. Oliver glanced down, noticing Percy's badge pinned to his t-shirt.
"Oh- err... that," Oliver laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, I was just trying it on. For fun. Doesn't it look good?" He said, rubbing at his suddenly warm face. He took off the badge immediately.
"Yeah," Percy smiled, gently taking the badge from Oliver's hand and placing it back on their shared desk, where Oliver first found it. "What's mine is yours, yeah? That's how marriage works," he joked.
He turned around and ran straight into Oliver's chest, who was staring at him intensely. Oliver pulled him into a searing kiss, and this time, Percy let him. Oliver began to move them towards the bed, but as soon as Percy picked up on that, he shut him down.
"Go shower," he scolded him gently, in between kisses. Oliver chose to ignore his request in favor of beginning to trail kisses down his neck. It seemed to quiet Percy for a bit, as his one hand traveled to Oliver's hair while the other pulled him closer, but he eventually regained his bearings. "No, no, I mean it," Percy said firmly.
"Fine," Oliver sighed. "You better be awake when I get out." At Percy's nod, Oliver went to the bathroom and took care of his business.
When he got out, he found Percy sitting up in their bed, chewing on a quill as he revised the 12-inch essay assigned to them by Flitwick. When Percy heard him approaching, he placed his things on the nightstand and took off his glasses, waiting for Oliver to get in bed before wrapping his arms around him and laying his head on his chest.
"Your hair is still wet," Oliver complained.
Percy shrugged. "Sorry," he said, beginning to lift his head from Oliver's chest.
"No!" He protested. Percy was already putting his head back anyway, and Oliver knew that Percy knew that Oliver was going to take it back.
As the minutes wore on, Percy's breathing was becoming slower, and Oliver knew that he was falling asleep. He wasn't ready to, though.
"Perce?" Oliver said, adjusting his arm that Percy was lying on as it started tingling.
Percy's eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Oliver inquisitively. "Hm?"
"Can I have your frog card collection?" Oliver wondered.
"What? Yeah, whatever," Percy whispered, tightening his hold around Oliver's abdomen. "Why?" He asked, after a beat of silence.
"What's mine is yours, right? What's yours is mine," Oliver said, recounting what Percy said the previous hour.
Oliver felt Percy's nod. "Yeah, that's right. We're married. That's law."
Oliver smiled. It was quiet for a moment. "Do you... want my broom? Quidditch magazine collection?"
"Your broom?" Percy echoed incredulously. "Is that a joke?"
"Yeah Perce, my broom. Wink wink," Oliver laughed at his own joke.
Percy nudged him in his side. "That's not even funny," he said seriously. Oliver felt rather than heard his laugh, though.
"No, I'm serious, though. It's yours if you want it. My literal broom, the one that can fly," Oliver insisted.
"Yeah, okay. I'll keep that in mind for when I find myself wanting a good ol' quidditch mag," Percy snorted, his eyes fluttering shut at Oliver's responding silence.
Oliver stared at him, waiting for sleep to overcome him. He ruminated about sharing all his things with Percy.
'This marriage thing is quite alright,' he thought to himself, before closing his heavy eyes.
They were in the last stretch of the year. There were only two months left in the term, and despite them having N.E.W.T.s to prepare for, some people saw it fit to assign term papers. Luckily for Oliver, however, he didn't choose to pursue a N.E.W.T in said people's classes. Percy, on the other hand, did.
It was a Saturday, and Percy was sitting up in their bed by noon with his books at the ready, intending to finish both of his papers by the time dinner rolled around. Oliver was sat next to him quietly, lazing around before he was due to go to Quidditch practice. He understood that it was a Saturday, but the cup was fast approaching and the team needed all the practice they could get. In his opinion, it was better that it was Saturday, because after practice, the team was free to do whatever they pleased for the rest of the day without the stress of classes. Not everybody saw it that way, though.
Oliver gazed out the window and looked at the scenery. He sighed loudly and dramatically before slumping against Percy and staring disinterestedly at what he was writing. It was his final potions paper before they began prepping for the N.E.W.T. Percy hadn't written much of anything, too wrapped up in outlining the essay, but he did have a title, a thesis statement, and half of an introduction.
Percy noticed his staring and looked at him expectantly. Oliver met his eyes, confused. "What?"
"Look," Percy said, motioning to the top of his paper. Oliver's eyes skimmed the top of the paper where Percy's finger was resting, but all he saw was the date. He said as much to Percy.
"Oh sorry," he said sheepishly, before moving his hand so that Oliver could see properly. Oliver's eyes widened and his jaw fell open slightly as he registered what he saw.
"Wow, that's..." Oliver didn't know what to say. In Percy's fancy, loopy cursive writing, 'Mr. Percy Wood' was signed in ink.
Percy laughed and nudged him. "Funny, right? Don't worry, I'll change it before I turn it in. Imagine Snape's face if I turned it in like this."
"I mean..." Oliver began, ignoring the annoyed look on Percy's face and his muttered 'just laugh.' "That is, technically, your name."
"Well, yeah... but not here. Here, I'm Percy Weasley. And I'd be damned if Snape of all people is one of the first to find out that I may be called any differently," Percy insisted.
"Yeah," Oliver finally agreed. "It's funny," he said, forcing a laugh.
Percy playfully shoved him. "You're such a git."
They sat in silence for a few minutes more. Percy robotically began to belt out sentence after sentence of potions theory, muttering under his breath everything that he wrote. Oliver watched and listened silently, before he got up, announcing that he was going to get ready for practice.
By the time he was ready, Percy was on his 3rd paragraph, and was now lying on his stomach with his head in his right hand while he wrote with his left.
"I'm off," Oliver announced, dropping a quick kiss on Percy's forehead. "Back in a few hours."
"See you," Percy murmured. He spared Oliver a glance but didn't stop writing as he watched him leave the room.
Practice was rough. Oliver didn't really mind it though. After all, he brought it upon himself. He liked rough practices, because the pain afterward felt kind of rewarding. True to his word, he arrived back to his dorm 3 hours later. Upon walking in, he saw Percy had moved to their desk, and was staring blankly at a textbook with an upset expression on his face. So deep in thought was he that he didn't even notice Oliver enter the room.
"I'm back," Oliver said, waving his hand in Percy's face to get his attention. Percy's eyes snapped to Oliver's face, as if he just noticed he was there.
"Hey," he said, watching Oliver kick off his boots and drop his gear on the floor. "How was practice?"
"It was good," Oliver smiled. "How's the paper writing going?" Oliver asked, gesturing towards the empty sheet of parchment in front of Percy.
"Oh it's- I finished my potions paper. I'm just writing my thesis for muggle studies." When he was met with an expectant silence, he continued. "It's about marriage," he said, watching Oliver carefully. There was a pregnant pause, and Oliver thought that he was supposed to be giving some reaction, but he just didn't know what.
"Oh, cool," He nodded awkwardly. "Well, let me know if you need any help," he said, to which they both snorted. Percy seemed to go back to staring at his parchment, lost in thought, so Oliver headed to the bathroom to get washed up. When he got out, Percy seemed to have made a considerable amount of progress on his paper, but he had this troubled air around him.
Oliver figured that if something was the matter, then Percy would just tell him eventually. If not explicitly, then in a roundabout Percy fashion where he dropped hints based on what he decided to bring up in conversation. Oliver decided that he would pay extra attention to what Percy said for a while.
He laid on the end of the bed and just stared at Percy's back, watching him work. His eyes grew heavy, and he decided that he would get a nap in before dinner, but then Percy's voice broke the silence in the room.
"Oliver?" Percy called, casting a backwards glance over his shoulder to see if Oliver heard him.
"Yeah?" Oliver replied, quickly lifting his head up and propping it on his hand.
"Did you know that..." Percy trailed off for a second, seemingly trying to find the words. "Well, you know how same-sex marriage isn't legal in the muggle world?" At Oliver's confused nod, he continued. "They also have it where in some cultures, their women are encouraged to be virgins in order for them to marry! And in some cases, they're even married off at young ages. They don't even get to choose. It's arranged for them, and they're expected to spend the rest of their lives with someone that they don't even love. Isn't that sad?"
"Um, yeah..." Oliver agreed. As sad as it was, he couldn't understand why Percy was bringing it up, and why it bothered him so much. "Is that what your thesis is about?"
"Yeah," Percy sighed, picking up on Oliver's slight disinterest. Still, he continued. "That's kind of a thing in the wizarding world too. Arranged marriages and what not." Percy murmured quietly to himself, "Maybe I should include that in the paper."
"Mhm," Oliver hummed, gazing at Percy questioningly. He could tell that Percy was getting a little riled up on the matter, and at Oliver's lack of understanding.
"Anyways, don't you think we're rather lucky? I mean, we got... married quite young, but we got to choose to do so, didn't we? Our marriage means something. Not to mention, neither of us were virgins when we did so," Percy insisted. "And we're not polygamists."
"You weren't a virgin?" Oliver asked, genuinely confused. He could tell that annoyed Percy, and it kind of annoyed him too, but he didn't understand why that was the part that his brain chose to fixate on.
"That's not the point!" Percy rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying, I'm very happy that we were able to do what we did. And we're very lucky to have these freedoms. What did we do to deserve it more than them? Those poor muggles," Percy said, forlorn and empathetic. "And some purebloods, I guess," he added as an afterthought.
"I agree," Oliver decided to say. He didn't really know what to do. That seemed to appease Percy though, who turned back to his paper and began scribbling furiously.
Oliver imagined the passive words of criticism about certain muggle marriage culture in Percy's fancy cursive handwriting.
Everything seemed fine enough. Dinner was kind of quiet that night, though.
Oliver rushed home to shower after a long practice session with the Puddlemere reserve team. He'd gotten his own flat immediately out of school, as he'd been saving up for a while. The end of July sun was terrible on him, and he'd grown rather tan. He had to shower twice a day nowadays, because the practice was in the middle of the day and left him funky, but when he'd shower he'd just go right back out.
Today, he was supposed to go and pick up Percy from work today, as Percy insisted that he needed to talk to him about something. Oliver didn't know how to feel about that. He couldn't begin to guess what it was that Percy had to talk to him about. Their relationship the past few months had been, for a lack of a better word, okay. They were both busy, Oliver with quidditch and Percy with the ministry, but they'd send letters regularly, professing their love and how much they missed each other. Nothing more, nothing less.
They celebrated their 1-year anniversary earlier in the summer, and that outing found them both drunk in Oliver's flat, 'celebrating their relationship.' They'd had talks about finally telling their parents about them now that they were both legal and out of school. Percy kept brushing it off, though, and Oliver wasn't exactly eager to tell his mum and dad either.
After he was finished freshening up, he flooed straight to the ministry where he waited for a good while in the uncomfortable chairs of the lobby. He was trying to sit still, and was quietly picking at his nails with his elbows rested in his lap.
Finally, he heard hurried footsteps, and he looked up and saw Percy making his way toward him, practically running. Oliver stood up immediately.
"Hi," he breathed, giving Percy a once over before pulling him into a one-armed hug. "Are you ready to go?"
Percy nodded, and they walked shoulder to shoulder to the exit of the ministry building where they apparated as soon as they got outside. They ended up in some random alleyway that was relatively close to the muggle park they intended to go to, and they started on their way, walking and making small talk.
"How's your summer been? Work is good?" Oliver asked as they finally arrived to the park and took a seat on a secluded bench.
"Work is... work. My summer has been alright," Percy sighed. He looked at Oliver, "What about you? How's your quidditch going?"
"My summer has been alright as well. Quidditch is amazing. It's, well... it's all I've been working for!" Oliver exclaimed excitedly. "Missed you, though. Missed us," he murmured, nudging Percy's shoulder with his own.
"I missed you too," Percy said quietly, looking at Oliver before glancing away with a light flush to his face. He was smiling, though.
"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Oliver asked curiously.
"Oh, yeah..." Percy said slowly, the smile edging off of his face. He sighed. "Well, Oliver, I..." he trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.
"What is it?" Oliver frowned, a knot forming in his stomach. He had to remind himself to keep breathing, so anxious was he to hear what Percy had to say.
"I've had a hell of a summer," Percy began. "But that's not just- I've had a hell of a year and then some, actually. This, us," he motioned between them, "it's been fun. And I really, really love you, but... don't take this hard." Percy grimaced at his own words.
Oliver stared at him blankly. He actually couldn't believe it. "Are you... breaking up with me?"
Percy bit the inside of his cheek and thought carefully about his next words. He sighed heavily before saying firmly, "I believe we should get an annulment, before this goes way too far."
"Before it goes way too far?" Oliver echoed disbelievingly. "Perce, we're married! We- we consummated the marriage! How much further is it going to get?" Right now, Oliver felt more outraged than anything. How could Percy just tell him how much he loved their time together, and then ask for an annulment, all within the same minute?
"You said it yourself," Percy insisted, his voice growing louder with vehemence. Now Oliver being mad was making him mad. "It's not that serious! It doesn't matter if the marriage didn't work out... It didn't mean that much."
"Didn't mean that much? Percy, I love you!" Oliver hissed. "So why is it, that if you love me as much as you say you do, that you want to divorce me?"
"Not a divorce, an annulment," Percy corrected. "This never happened." At Oliver's eye roll, Percy sighed. "You were 17, Oliver. Hell, I was 16! We got married because we love each other, not because it meant anything!" Percy stressed. He seemed to be becoming increasingly calmer, despite Oliver's increasing anger. "Marriage means something more to me now, I think. Now that we're not in school anymore. I don't think it's something people do just for the sake of it."
"Percy," Oliver began. "I think we entered this marriage with different expectations. I think you..." Oliver bit his lip as he acknowledged Percy shaking his head at him. "What?"
"We entered this marriage because we thought that that was the sensible thing to do when two people couldn't imagine spending their lives with anyone else. Which, yeah that's part of it, but it's not it. We don't know what marriage really is. Don't try to tell me that it meant more than it did, because I know for a fact even you forgot we were even married sometimes," Percy tried to reason with him.
"Me, forget?" Oliver gasped. "I'm the one with the fucking tattoo on his left ring finger! This shit doesn't come off! I will die with this thing on my body, Perce!" Oliver stressed. "And why are you saying this now? It's been over a bloody year!"
"We got married in the muggle world," Percy pointed out, like that meant something to Oliver. "If we spend the rest of our lives in the wizarding world, which we're both expecting to do with our careers, then it doesn't even mean anything where it matters!" After seeing the beginnings of a protest on Oliver's tongue, Percy cut him off. "You're 18, so you're legal in the muggle world, but Oliver... I'm still 17. That's basis for an annulment."
Oliver chose not to warrant that with a reply, instead watching the muggles walk by, oblivious to the heartbreak he just experienced. Apparently the world didn’t stop when Percy told him that he didn’t want to be his husband anymore. "Do your parents know?" Oliver asked quietly.
Percy shook his head. “I have all of these freedoms… I’m supposed to be brave, but I can't even tell my parents," Percy said wryly, laughing at the irony that only he found funny.
As they sat there in silence, letting the sounds of the park wash over them, Oliver looked around him. He saw an old lady ambling toward them, and he already fixed his eyes on the next person walking past, expecting her to walk right by. But she stopped right in front of them.
"What are you two boys doing out of school? And why are you wearing a suit in this fantastic weather?" She aimed this last question at Percy, who was already removing his tie and overcoat.
"We're graduated, ma'am," Percy smiled at her politely as he removed his outer layers.
"Oh, my!" She gasped. Oliver thought she was about to have a heart attack. "Oh, to be young again. You all enjoy it now, before you have to settle down in your forever," she said, before pinching at Oliver's cheeks and shuffling away just as slow as she'd come.
Oliver resolutely looked ahead, ignoring Percy's pointed gaze. "I think you believe that just because we were- are young, that our marriage doesn't mean anything. I think we did everything right, though. What does it mean, if not what we had?"
Percy shrugged. "Maybe it doesn't mean too much at all," he croaked, looking at Oliver sadly.
Oliver got up quickly. "Whatever, Percy," He sighed before walking toward the alleyway they came from to apparate. When he looked back, just to see, he saw Percy still sat on the bench. Only now he had his hands in his head. Oliver felt some vindictive pleasure to know that Percy was hurting too.
He cried himself to sleep that night, though. And the one after that. It was like he wanted to cry, because all he could do was think about their short year together and cry. But then he didn't want to forget, because that would make him cry too.
It was when it started affecting his quidditch that Oliver snapped back to reality. Through the thick tears that threatened to spill 24/7, he couldn't see how many fingers he was holding up if he put his hand in his face, let alone a quaffle flying at him at 70 kph [4]. And besides, what did he look like asking for time off of training because he was going through a divorce/annulment? At 18 years old? Not even 2 months out of school? He decided that enough was enough. He wasn't going to let this ruin his life.
He was at home, staring at the dirty dishes in the sink while his fingers pruned in the dish water. He seemed to move in slow motion, if at all. He had to remake the dish water twice now. If he thought he knew depression after losing to Hufflepuff that one match, he definitely knew it now. He wasn't even thinking about Percy, he just wasn't thinking about anything.
Insistent pecking on his window right in front of him startled him out of his coma, and he looked up to find Hermes, Percy's owl, sitting on the sill with a letter grasped in his beak. He felt like killing the damned bird, but it wasn't his fault. He took the letter from Hermes who made himself comfortable pecking around Oliver's kitchen, and read Percy's letter.
His sickening, fancy cursive scrawl that 'Mr. Percy Wood' was written in just months ago. Oliver didn't realize he was holding his breath until it was absolutely urgent from him to breathe. In Percy's letter, Percy urged him to meet up with him so that they could go through with the annulment before Percy turned 18, just 3 weeks later.
Oliver kept the letter and sent Hermes back without any reply, in hopes that maybe he could just hold off a little bit. If he managed to stall for 3 weeks, then Percy was forced to acknowledge that at least somewhere, their short marriage was legit. He hoped that he'd see Hermes again, and tied to his leg would be a letter of apology from Percy, asking him to meet up so that they could renew their vows and live happily ever after. Eventually, though, he realized that he didn't want to be that way. He didn't want to have to force Percy into a relationship with him. He felt as though if Percy didn't leave him now, then he'd leave him sooner or later. After examining what marriage meant to him, he realized that this is what weddings were to him; love, marriage, and then divorce more often than not. Or an annulment in his case.
So, a week later found him and Percy in a silent courthouse with a judge who was staring through them both, confunded. Oliver refused to cast the spell this time, but that was alright. Percy did it. He was of age now. Percy signed it first, and handed Oliver the pen without meeting his eyes.
Oliver took it, and his hand hovered over the line before he dropped the pen and looked at Percy pleadingly. "Perce, please? Don't do this to me."
Percy sighed. "Come on, Oliver. Don't start. We'll be okay." He was still looking anywhere but Oliver.
"Look at me," Oliver demanded. They were both crying at this point, and Oliver could admit that this wasn't one of his proudest moments. He imagined that Percy agreed.
Percy did look at him, but he didn't end up saying anything. His gaze flickered to the papers and the pen meaningfully before landing back on Oliver, and Oliver sighed but took the hint. Seconds later, their marriage was officially dissolved, as if it had never happened.
"So," Oliver said, trying to stall their departure. "I guess we're splitting all of our assets then? Law, or whatever?" He joked.
Percy rubbed his temples but humored him with a small laugh. It hurt Oliver more to hear that than if he'd been ignored. "What assets? We've got nothing to our name," Percy smiled sadly.
"You can... have my broom?" Oliver offered. That was all he had, but that was as good as anything. He was basically offering his heart.
"I will never want your broom, Oliver," Percy groaned. "Or your quidditch magazines."
"Wow, okay," Oliver shrugged. They stood there in silence, ignored by the judge, because she could hear nor see them. She was still getting her wits about. Oliver couldn't help it, and it seemed like Percy couldn't either, for they ended up wrapped tightly in each other's arms, Oliver's face buried in Percy's shoulder.
"Well," Oliver said as they separated. "I told you how I felt about this when we first got into this mess. This thing is never coming off," at this, he lifted up his left hand, "so maybe we should try again sometime." Oliver hoped that Percy understood his plea to stay for what it was. He might as well have been on his knees begging for him back.
"Maybe," Percy agreed, wiping his face. "It'll be proper, next time. Better. It'll mean more. I'll even get one too. Better yet, we’ll have real rings," he said, motioning to Oliver's hand. Oliver found himself inching his hand closer to Percy's subtly, but Percy noticed and folded his hands behind his back.
Oliver pursed his lips, and his heart clenched in his chest. "Just not now, then?" He asked, desperately trying to understand what was happening.
Percy shook his head. "Not now," he repeated hollowly. He cleared his throat. He seemed to want to say something more, his mouth forming words that never came, but all he said was, "Goodbye," and then he walked away. And Oliver could only watch. That felt hopeful, but he could only hope Percy meant it. Maybe there was something for them later.
And now, as he flew away from the clearing, the taste of stale Sangria on his tongue, Oliver realized once again that he hadn't seen Percy since. And he probably wouldn't, not for a long while. He just had to wait [5].