Chapter 3: Bad ideas and hiding spots

Tuesday, September 8th, 1987

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly the summer, it's clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

- peace

It didn’t feel like anything Oliver Wood had ever experienced before. It wasn’t precisely like swimming, not at all like running. He was not exactly sure he could put into words what flying felt like.

The first thing that came to his mind as his feet left the ground was a scared “bloody hell” he would never admit to anyone he muttered under his breath. You see, he wasn’t supposed to be flying, however, Percy dared him to, and how could one ever resist such teasing? If that was anyone’s fault, it was Percy’s.

Yes, alright, so perhaps Percy hadn’t exactly dared him, Oliver was pretty sure his exact words were, “There’s no way that’s safe”, so naturally Oliver had to prove it was, indeed, safe.

Which, of course, it wasn’t, as Oliver soon came to realize when he almost slipped out of the broom twice, shouting something that sounded suspiciously like “Please, please, I’m too young to die” to Percy, though he wasn’t sure Oliver said that, meaning he couldn’t mercilessly tease Wood about it.

However, it soon stopped being downright terrifying, it started to feel like the best thing Oliver had ever experienced. It felt like being alive for the first time, it felt like he had lived his entire life terribly wrong until that moment. It was like he had lived in a tilted world until that second, only now realizing that, now that it was the way it was supposed to be.

He never wanted to get down, never wanted to touch the ground again.

Oliver was breathless, was enchanted, was completely and utterly mesmerized. He always wanted to touch the sky, but now? Now he could. He was the sky, he was as part of it as the sky was part of him. A huge one.

He was certain he had never felt that good, that right, that happy.

Until, of course, he fell.

____________________________

It didn’t feel like anything Percy had ever experienced before. Seeing Oliver Wood fall off his broom was the most terrifying moment of Percy’s life, which was not a light thing to say.

You see, Percy had been terrified merely once or twice in his life, but all his experience with terror were remembered by him until that day, and would until the day he died. He had never, though - not even when he thought for a whole second he had killed his younger brother, Ron -, felt that terrified. And it was… well, terrifying.

Percy was falling, he could die, like really die, because he went too high, of course, he did, Wood was so bloody stupid sometimes, why did he get on that broom in the first place, why hadn’t he quickly come down when he realized it wasn’t safe?

Weasley was screaming, he knew that when he first opened his mouth was to ask for help but all he managed was a strangled cry that was now something distant enough for Percy not to realize the annoying little noise was being made by him. Because Oliver was falling, and what happened in a second or two stretched itself into a lifetime of fear and terror to Percy.

It was only a second but for Percy, it seemed like Oliver never stopped falling, never hit the ground, still, he knew - both of them did - he eventually would, it was just a matter of seconds or bloody twenty lifetimes, whatever came first.

Percy couldn’t stop watching, couldn't turn away, even knowing the last thing he desired was to see his best friend - because at some point during that first week, that’s what Oliver became - hit the ground, possibly dying. He needed to keep looking, it was so bloody twisted, and cruel, Percy would never, ever forget the image of Oliver’s body hitting the ground with a thud.

He would never forget how it felt to realize Oliver wasn’t moving.

____________________________________

Wednesday, September 9th, 1987

It all happened so fast but so slowly, time slowed down and accelerated at once, nothing made sense, nothing nothing nothing nothing, Oliver was looking into nothing, and… what happened?

The darkness smiled at him. Grinned. It was bloody scary. It laughed and laughed and laughed and it said Oliver Oliver Oliver, and it said, death death death, it said, please please please, it begged and it hurt and it laughed and smiled and cried and… and…- nothing.

Again and for the first time. Never and always and forever and time bent on itself and an angel smiled and a demon wept and they all said please and please and PLEASE. They all said, Oliver, Oliver, Oliver.

Suddenly, the angel was looking at him, its green eyes flashing with fear as it - he - said, Don’t you dare fucking die, Wood, or I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself, I bloody promise you, you pretentious bastard, I’ll hunt your ass down and I’ll end you myself!, and it was such a bizarre thing to hear from an angel Oliver soon began to realize it wasn’t an angel at all, but Percy Weasley, looming over him and threatening to kill him if he died (which, to be fair, sounded like a good enough reason not to die, mostly if you didn’t want to die… and now that Oliver thought about it, didn’t make much sense at all, because why would he die if he didn’t want to be killed by Percy if he died? Oh, it didn’t matter, he had almost died, he could think about dying later).

“What did you call me?”, was what Oliver ended up asking, the dying part appeared to be too complicated.

Percy looked momentarily surprised Oliver had actually survived, then he appeared to be utterly pissed at Oliver for surviving, finally registering Oliver’s question and responding, “You’ll have to be more precise than that, Wood. I called you a lot of names”, he confessed.

“Well, I didn’t really hear you until the last one, so… the last thing you called me?”

“I reckon it was ‘pretentious bastard’ however, I could be wrong. You know, considering you are a pretentious bastard, I hope you don’t take offense in it.”

“Well, that is pretty offensive and not true in the least, Weasley”, Oliver said but stopped talking altogether when he looked around him. He was at the Hospital Wing and had no idea what - and who - brought him there. “I-... What happened?”

“You almost died”, Percy said simply, as if that explained the whole situation in the best way possible.

“You don’t say”, Oliver deadpanned, “Don’t be too surprised but I sort of got the impression that’s what happened mostly because of the infirmary setting all around me and, oh, you know, you threatening to kill me if I died”, Oliver said, making Percy smile a bit. It didn’t go unnoticed by Oliver how Percy didn’t deny his affirmation.

Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to appear, stopping by Oliver’s bed and giving him something that smelled so bad he wasn’t sure he wanted to drink at all, not even if it made him the smartest person on earth. She announced in a cheerful tone, “You did not almost die, dear. You just fell off your broom”, when the memories started to come back to him she added, “Drink it up, you’ll feel much better”

Oliver did not want to try that, not even one bit. He was ready to protest, however, Pomfrey’s expression advised him otherwise. Grimacing, he drank the whole thing as fast as he could and coughed when was done.

“What was that?”, he asked Pomfrey, trying to ignore the annoying grin on Percy’s face, the prick seemed to be having the time of his bloody life.

“You don’t want to know, Mr. Wood. You’ll have another dose in…”, she checked the clock on the opposite wall, “six hours, so it’s better if you don’t know.”

“Oh. So I should pick it up or someone will bring it to my room?”, he asked, making Pomfrey actually laugh. Like a full belly laugh, and Oliver had the impression he saw a tear run down her cheeks after a while, though it was probably just a trick of the light.

“Oh, Mr. Wood, you’re not serious”, she said, after recomposing herself.

“What? What do you mean I’m not serious? Aren’t I supposed to drink this… thing once again? Six hours from now?”, Oliver asked.

Percy, the traitor, was coughing a little suspiciously, it sounded too much like a laugh.

“You’re not going to your room, Mr. Wood. In truth, you’re not leaving the Hospital Wing for another day or two, depending on how quick your ribs heal.”

“What?”, Oliver shouted, a little bit too dramatically. Percy gave up on hiding his laugh and was openly laughing at Oliver. “What do you mean a day or two? I’m fine”, and, to prove that, he tried to get up to, oh, you know, walk around, perhaps jump once or twice, run a bit, that type of thing.

When he got up the world tilted sideways and his knees gave out, a sharp pain spreading through his whole body. Percy’s arms were around him before he fell, holding him up firmly.

“Bullocks”, Oliver muttered under his breath.

“Language.”, reminded Madam Pomfrey.

“Merlin, Wood, could you stop being bloody stupid all the bloody time, you bloody git!”, Percy shouted, clearly forgetting Pomfrey’s presence or simply not caring.

“I could, yes. Will I? Probably not’”, he said, forcing a smile on Percy’s face he obviously tried to contain.

“Language, Mr. Weasley!”, Pomfrey repeated, sounding somehow more annoyed this time.

“Sorry”, they muttered at the same time, quickly going back to ignoring her presence, Oliver because he was mad he indeed needed to stay the night there and Percy because he was too busy putting Oliver back on the mattress.

It was only when Oliver was again laid on the bed, sunlight on his face, that he noticed it was actually supposed to be night, or at least close to sunset, however the window showed it was clearly morning, not even noon yet, if the weak light was any indication.

“For how long was I asleep?”, he asked Percy.

“Oh… er… you know… the expected.”, he ended up saying.

“How long, Weasley?”, Oliver pressed, already imagining the months of life he lost just because he fell off the broom.

Suddenly he was a hundred percent sure it was Pomfrey’s fault, because, honestly, who slept for three months - or more - just because they fell off a broom. Nope, not possible. Meaning, she had to put him to sleep - into a come, one could even say -, just because she felt like it, who was she to say decide something like- “A day”, Percy confessed, interrupting Oliver’s thoughts.

“Oh”, was his only answer.

“Yeah. Oh. You scared us to death, Wood.”, said Percy, “Don’t do it again. Ever.”

“Not planning to, but you know, unexpected things happen, Weasley…”, Oliver joked. Percy, however, wasn’t having it, he was shaking his head at him, his expression more serious than Oliver had seen before.

“No. I meant it, Oliver. Never again.”, and it was only then that Oliver noticed how pale Percy looked, almost like he was the sick one (which made Oliver ask himself how bad he looked at that moment).

“What did you do?”, Oliver asked.

“What?”, asked Percy, looking honestly confused.

“You said I was out for a day”, Oliver clarified, “So… what did you do while I was here?”

Percy looked at him as if he couldn’t quite understand where the question had come from. It was such an obvious thing to him he couldn’t comprehend why Oliver was asking at all. Wasn’t it clear? By his face? His crumpled clothes?

“Er… here?”, sounded more like a question than an affirmation.

“What do you mean here?”

Percy knew Oliver had just awoken from a day of sleep, but he wanted to punch him nonetheless. How bloody stupid was Wood, really? “I’m pretty sure there is only one thing one can mean by here. Here in here, at this place, not in a synonym to listen, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“It wasn’t… No. I just… er. Here? Really?”

“Yep.”

“The whole time?”, Oliver wasn’t buying it. Why on earth would Percy spend a whole day there when he could go wherever he wanted and to class, something he would never miss. Like, ever.

“Yes, Wood. The whole time.”

“So… like. You didn’t go to class?”

"Oh, bloody hell!”, Percy said, a second later looking around to see if Pomfrey had heard him. Thankfully, she hadn’t. “What is so complicated in understanding what ‘the whole time’ means?”

“Nothing! I’m sorry! I was just surprised, that’s all. No need to be all shouty about it!”, Oliver said, hands in the air as if to prove his innocence.

“Why would you be surprised by that?”, Percy asked, ready to be offended by Oliver’s response.

Wood shook his head, not quite knowing what he was supposed to say, “I don’t know, okay? I just was. Could you drop it? Please?”

“No! I wanna know why you were surprised, Wood. And you will tell me. I can be very persuasive when I want, you know?”, said Percy.

“I don’t know, but I get the feeling I soon will, won’t I?”

“Yes. Now, tell me. Tell me, Wood! Don’t waste my time. C’mon. What is it? Tell me. Tell me, you useless piece of shit!”, the last part made Oliver bark a laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, please, Oliver. Tell meeeee”, he got closer to the other boy’s face, nose almost touching, “OLIVEEEEEEEER!”

Blushing for no apparent reason, Oliver gave in, “Fine! Merlin! I just thought you would rather be in class and, I don’t know, doing other sh-”, Pomfrey passed in front of them, making Oliver change the course of the sentence, “things. Other things. That’s all.”

“I would rather you don’t kill yourself, Wood. And why would I ever prefer to be somewhere else? We’re friends. You hurt yourself, so I was here for you. Isn’t this what friends are for?”

“I s’ppose.”, Oliver said.

“Well. So that’s it. That’s what it is. What we are. Right?”, Percy pressed.

“Yeah, think so…”, was Oliver’s very helpful response.

“Yes or no, Wood.”

“Yes. We are friends.”

“Okay.”, Percy said.

“Okay”, Oliver repeated.

The rest of the day lingered for what seemed like an eternity, but it was a bit nicer than it could’ve been with Percy there, at Oliver’s side, reading or whispering annoying things like ‘shut up Wood. I’m reading’ at him.

______________________________

Friday, September 11th, 1987

“You’re joking. Wood, you’re joking.”, after a while, Percy reconsidered what Oliver said. Unfortunately, it did not sound like he was joking, “Are you kidding me?”, Percy yelled in the common room, merely hours after Oliver finally left the Hospital Wing. If Oliver had to guess, he would say Percy wasn’t really fond of the amazing idea Wood had just presented to them. He couldn’t see the reason, though.

“No, that’s actually pretty serious”, Oliver clarified, hoping Percy was simply too excited and not utterly pissed. The latter was more probable but Oliver’s hope didn’t leave him that easily. It should, though. It would help him a lot more if it did.

The thing was, he couldn’t wait another week and a half to fly again! It just wasn’t possible. Every time he closed his eyes he remembered what it was like to have the wind touching his face like that, flying so fast it was like cutting through time and space and it was magic. However remembering wasn’t enough anymore. He spent three days imagining himself on that broom again, he was so done. Imagination was overrated. He wanted the real thing.

So, he had an amazing idea and shared it with his roommates. They would probably enjoy it too, not as much as him, but still. Oliver didn’t like to do things on his own. What was the point if no one was there to see him? Admire him? Envy him?

“It’s a great idea!”, Mistbone said, sounding way more excited than Percy.

“It’s a terrible idea!”, Percy pointed out, feeling the need to balance that argument.

Unfortunately, he didn’t realize that Oliver wasn’t asking for his permission but his presence. He would do it with or without him, “It is not!”, Oliver said, defensively.

“Um, yeah it is!”

“Why would you think that?”, okay, so perhaps Oliver cared more about Percy’s approval than he was letting on, still, it wasn’t a big deal. Actually, he would even say it didn’t matter at all, so Percy didn’t even need to know about it.

“Oh, I don’t know! Lemme think for a sec, will you? Um, maybe because you fell off the bloody broom last time you tried flying and spent two days at the Hospital Wing because you broke your fucking ribs?”, Percy shouted.

“Well, it was my ribs so I guess I can choose to do it again anytime I want, Weasley!”

“Not unsupervised, you can’t! It’s against the goddamned regulations, Wood!”

“Who cares about the regulations, Weasley?”

“I care! And you lot should too!”, said Percy, exasperated.

“Don’t come then. It’s fine. We don’t need you!”

It seemed like the whole world fell quiet after that.

Percy looked at Oliver and Oliver looked back. They kept staring at each other for a long time, complete silence surrounding them. Percy almost couldn’t make himself look away from Oliver’s beautiful and kind - now a bit annoyed and mad - eyes. He sighed, though he didn’t take his eyes off the other boy. He wasn’t giving up, not like the way Wood was thinking.

“I absolutely hate you”, Percy said.

“Is that a yes or a no?”, Oliver asked, sounding more hopeful than he wanted to.

Percy merely looked at the four of them for a second, “You lot are insane”, was his reply, Oliver howler a “YES!”, knowing that meant Percy was going with them.

Of course, Percy still thought- No, Percy was still completely sure breaking into the broom shed by the Quidditch pitch so Oliver - and Sam and Andrew - could go into the night, flying around with no one to help them if one of them fell off it - again, in Oliver’s case - was a very bad idea. A terrible one. Horrendous. The worst possible. Very shitty indeed. The stupidest idea ever. If he didn’t go with them, they would be totally by themselves there (Percy wasn’t stupid enough to think Oliver wouldn’t go without him), so they would probably die before asking for an adult’s help. Which wasn’t Percy’s case.

So really, he was only doing that because he didn’t want his friends dead, or worst, like… getting detention, and he honestly thought he could help to avoid that kind of situation.

“If I get detention because of you…”, he threatened, walking down the hallway with the other three boys, the moon’s light spilling itself at the stone floor.

While Percy tried to walk the quietest way possible, Oliver, Sam, and Andrew only looked around to be sure no one was coming. They weren’t worried about getting caught in the least, actually, if the gleam in Oliver’s eyes was any indication, that made them even more excited.

They were so stupid.

So, so stupid.

Somehow, they managed to get out of the castle unnoticed, even if Percy wasn’t sure how that happened. It couldn’t be just luck, could it? He wasn’t lucky in the least. Oliver seemed like the type of person the universe stopped for, so he supposed it must have been that

It was an eternity before they arrived at the broom shed, and of course, Percy was the one they called when they realized it was locked. Perhaps they hadn’t thought that far into the thing, still, for Percy, it was a bit obvious that would be the case.

Asking if Oliver couldn’t pick the lock, he got an ashamed “no” as the answer, so he stepped forward and whispered “Alohomora”, the door simply opening.

The three boys were in complete awe for a second, however, they quickly got over it and barged into the broom shed, taking three - after Percy shook his head at Oliver’s unasked question - brooms.

Sam and Andrew took a while to take off while Oliver was immediately off the ground. His head was thrown back, and even from that far Percy could tell he was smiling. Oliver’s whole body was relaxed for the first time since the accident. For a second, Percy was mad at him for doing that, for putting himself in danger again. It couldn’t be worth it.

However, he only needed to look at Oliver once more, flying around, smiling, happy, at complete ease to understand why he was doing what he was doing. And perhaps he would never be able to understand, he would never love anything as much as Oliver loved flying, but he thought that maybe he could tolerate it. He could deal with it if it made Oliver that happy. Perhaps, then, it was worth it. Not to Percy, never to him, nothing would ever be worth the chance of losing Oliver. It did look like it was worth putting himself at risk, though, to Wood.

He could learn to tolerate it. He could even learn to like the way Oliver looked flying around. Perhaps even love it. Perhaps he loved it already.

____________________________

It was like breathing for the first time in a week.

The wind passing through his hair and face, the night sky all around him, swallowing him whole, the stars shining just for him, the moon smiling and spilling its secrets in Oliver’s ears.

He was going so fast everything except the moon was just a blur, up and down and up again he went, laughing so hard his lungs hurt, smiling so broadly his cheeks still in place.

It was the first time Oliver Wood fell in love with something. It was intoxicating, he couldn’t get enough, he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t think about anything else besides that.

The world around him, where his other two friends were flying beside him, where his best friend watched him from below, worried he might hurt himself, where he had to follow rules, where he had to be someone at all was forgotten. It didn’t exist, merely because it didn’t need to.

However, it was inevitable that reality came crashing down on him. It happened, though, through Percy’s words, which were incomprehensible at first. But then it sounded too much like “Shit, shit, shit, we’re gonna be expelled” for Oliver to ignore it.

He was beside the other boy in seconds, asking what in hell’s name was happening, while Mistbone and Whittles landed near them.

“Mrs. Norris! That bloody cat saw us, she saw us. Like, you could see in her eyes, Oliver, she knew we weren’t supposed to be here. She’s so calling Filch right now. We’re so dead, Wood. So dead!”, Percy said.

They didn’t waste another second. The four boys ran to the broom shed and threw the brooms inside, closing the door, not bothering themselves with locking it up - mostly because they didn’t know how to, and Percy wasn’t thinking straight.

Somehow, Sam and Andrew went in a direction and Percy and Oliver to another, because Oliver found himself only in the presence of a very much freaking out Percy. And Filch, apparently, if the footsteps behind them was an indication.

Cursing under his breath, Oliver pushed Percy into the first door he saw, that happened to be some kind of closet full of… cleaning stuff. He closed the door behind them as quietly as he could, pressing himself closer to Percy, not having any space to breathe otherwise.

“I’ll murder you”, Percy murmured in Oliver’s ear, “And I won’t make it quick”

“Yes, okay, sure. Please do that later, though”, Oliver whispered back.

They were silent and didn’t move for too long. They didn’t even dare to breathe. When Oliver was pretty sure they were safe, the door opened, riping a scared yell out of Oliver and a squeak out of Percy. Filch was looking at both of them looking completely pleased.

“You can murder me now”, Oliver said to Percy, not daring to take his eyes off Filch, though.

“Oh, I will. Not now, though, you’ll suffer through detention with me first”, Percy said.

Filch literally dragged the two boys to McGonagall’s office, Oliver occasionally tried to escape, making Percy really mad and Filch even happier for having the right to hold them more tightly.

When they arrived at McGonagall’s door, Filch nocked, opened the door, and threw the two boys inside, banking the door closed. Oliver looked at Percy with an apologetic look and Percy just sighed. It was no use getting mad at the moment, he would do it later.

“I found these two flying around. They broke into the broom shed and stole the brooms at an inappropriate hour”, Filch said. He was so happy Oliver wanted to punch him.

“Stealing is a strong word”, defended Percy, trying to lighten the punishment they would most definitely get.

“Is there really an appropriate hour to steal brooms?”, Oliver asked at the same time.

Oh, how Percy would enjoy killing him.

Minerva looked at them. Both of them. For a long and terrifying minute.

“Not this again”, she muttered.

Oliver really wanted to ask what she meant by that, since it was the first time they were at her office for doing something they weren’t supposed to.

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. Wood, would you please take a seat?”, she asked, but it wasn’t a question, so they both ran and sat as quickly as possible. “Thank you, Filch.”

“You’re welcome, professor”, and with another satisfied smile at the boy, Filch was gone.

McGonagall sighed.

“What you two were doing is completely unacceptable!”, she said, “You should know better! Both of you, but mostly you, Mr. Wood! You spent three days at the Hospital Wing as a consequence for taking off on your broom when you weren’t supposed to! I didn’t punish you because I thought broken ribs were punishment enough, that you had learned your lesson! Clearly, I was mistaken!”

Oliver shrank in place. Percy knew he didn’t regret doing it, just getting caught, which infuriated him even more.

“And you, Mr. Weasley! I thought you were above this kind of behavior! Flying around with Mr. Wood when neither knew what you were doing! You could’ve hurt yourself! For someone who begged Poppy to sleep at the Hospital Wing to watch over your friend, you don’t seem to care much for him at all, flying around knowing it isn’t safe!”

For a second, Oliver thought Percy would tell her he wasn’t flying and sell Sam and Andrew out, but he shouldn’t have worried, because Percy’s only response was to say a quiet, “We are very sorry, Professor.”

“You’re both spending this weekend, starting tomorrow, cleaning all the bathrooms in an old-fashioned way. No magic”, McGonagall didn’t sound happy nor mad not even upset, just tired, as if she did that every single day. “Thirty points each were taken from Gryffindor because of your attitude.”

When they only nodded, she said, “You may go now.”

They had reached the door when Minerva called out, “Oh, and Potter, Black? Don’t do this again or you will regret it”. Both of the boys nodded again, and she gestured for them to go.

When it was only them in the hallway, Percy asked, “What did she call us?”

“Hell if I know”, said Oliver, shrugging.