"Percy?"

Percy looked up from his book he'd been pretending to read. After all, he wouldn't want people thinking he was lurking on this bench in hopes of running into Oliver. Even if he was. He was going out again today, to help with a rescue, and he knew Oliver was supposed to be back soon. The last note he'd had from him had said as much.

"Oliver!" He slid over slightly on the bench. "Sit down! Did you just get in?" He tried to remind himself that Oliver did have other friends, and might not have bothered to come looking for him right away. Sure, they'd spent a lot of time together whenever they were both back at headquarters, but it was just silly to get all possessive about it. Just because he'd left a note didn't mean he expected Percy to be there to greet him.

"Yeah. I just finished getting debriefed, in fact." Oliver said, with a cheery grin. He lowered himself on the bench with a loud sigh, and Percy was instantly on alert.

"Injured?" Well done, Percy, you don't sound like his mother or anything, he chastised himself.

"No, just worn out," Oliver said, still smiling. "We really moved fast over the last day and a half, to report. Not even I can fly that long without getting tired. I was still afraid you'd be gone again before we made it."

Percy tried very hard not to show how pleased he was, but he felt the blush burning his ears and the grin struggling to escape. "Well, all I know is we're leaving today. I'm not sure what time." He hesitated, then added, "I'm glad you got here before we left." If he hadn't known better he would have sworn Oliver was actually blushing a little after that addendum. Which was ridiculous of course. Oliver was not the blushing type, and certainly not over something he would say.

"So, you've got how many medals now?" Oliver asked, changing the subject with an amused tone of voice.

"Two," Percy said, relieved to find himself on more solid ground. "As you know perfectly well. We're even."

"That's what you think," Oliver smirked, pulling something out of his pocket and waving it around. "Beat this, Hero."

Oliver had taken to calling Percy by that nickname when he'd gotten his first medal, for saving a fellow Wizard. All right, three fellow Wizards. Flustered, and not wanting to talk about it, Percy had asked Oliver where HIS medal was. And it was an informal, accidental contest between them ever since.

"Another one?" Percy managed a false sigh. "You do know your robes are going to get cluttered if you keep this up, right?"

Oliver snickered, and put the medal away before Percy could see which it was. "Aw, you're just jealous," he said, eyes dancing.


"What happened?" He knew he probably shouldn't ask. If it was bad enough that they gave you a medal for it, it wasn't usually something you wanted to talk about. At least, not right away. Oliver knew all about what had happened to earn Percy that first medal. He hadn't even laughed when Percy had broken down during the telling. Percy knew all about the incident with Malfoy that had gotten Oliver his second medal, and robbed him of sleep without nightmares. They'd grown pretty close this last year, Percy thought, closer than they'd ever been at Hogwarts. Close enough that Oliver had woken him up in the middle of the night when he'd needed to tell someone about the incident. Close enough that Percy hadn't hesitated in hugging the shaken man. Close enough to wish for closer, maybe.

"Wasn't so bad this time," Oliver said, quietly. But his face was grim, and Percy thought he could see new lines there. They were too young for this, he thought, in moments of quiet rebellion. Too young for the lines and the scars and the nightmares... but if they didn't stop Voldemort, people even younger would be suffering these things. The thought of Ron, Ginny, Harry, or Hermione in the hands of Voldemort was sometimes all that made him hold on and stay. War is not a pretty thing.

He didn't look at Oliver, just said, with elaborate casualness, "Well, I'm around if you need to talk." Trying to save face for Oliver, he went on, "Just you wait, when I come back in I'll have my third. Bet I'll get my fourth medal before you do!"

Oliver snorted. "One galleon says I get my fourth first."

"Done," Percy grinned at him, knowing no money would ever change hands. He edged closer on the bench to shake the proffered hand. He didn't move away afterwards, just leaned back on the bench, and enjoyed the feeling of the sunshine on his face.

Oliver sighed again, and slung an arm across the back of the bench. "I always think I'm remembering it wrong, when I'm out there. That Headquarters can't really be as comfortable and peaceful as I think it is. We're never here long and most of the time it doesn't seem like we're really doing anything when we're out! The Order of the Phoenix is doing all the really important stuff. We're just…mopping up. Bad as it sounds, I can't wait for this to be over so I can go back to Quidditch."

"I know what you mean," Percy said, opening his eyes. "Going to work at the Ministry every day will seem so strange. And - well, I don't think I'll ever not appreciate it again, after this. I like knowing where I'll be every day and what I'll be doing."

"After this, I think I'm going to become as much a stickler for order and schedules and rules as you are," Oliver said, clearly teasing. But there was a rueful tone in his voice too.

Percy thought about sticking his tongue out at Oliver, but decided against it with the realization of how close their faces were. Inadvertent licking sounded like something to be avoided, he thought wryly; and then nearly choked suppressing the laughter the mental image invoked.

"What?" Oliver said, wonderingly.

"Nothing," Percy said, knowing it would drive Oliver mad.

"Oh come on, Percy, what's so funny?" Oliver said, brown eyes wide, tone pleading, in what Percy had mentally labeled as Oliver's "Please Mum?" expression. No wonder the boy was so spoiled by his parents, with a look like that at his disposal.

He couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up, and simply shook his head.

"Percy! C'mon... it's something if it's THAT funny!"

"No," Percy gasped through the laughter. "Really, it's just..." The laughter began to die down and he grinned at Oliver. "Good to have you back to -" He trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence. To compete with? To mock? To sit and talk to out in the sunshine? To slide a little closer to….?

Oliver narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, but gave in with a shrug and a smile of his own. "Yeah, you too," he said. "Hey, I was wondering if you -"

"Percy, time to go," Charlie's voice came abruptly from Percy's left. He jumped, startled, and looked up.

"Time?"

"We're heading out," Charlie said calmly, but with a sympathetic look at Percy. The sympathetic look swiftly changed to mischief, however, as he looked from Percy to Oliver.

Percy realized that they were seated so close that thighs, knees, calves, and ankles brushed against one another, and with Oliver having his arm on the back of the bench, it probably looked like they'd been.... The blush that struck him then put all previous blushes to shame, as far as he was concerned. "Right," he said, trying to sound professional. "Okay then." He waited a beat, half-hoping Charlie would take pity and walk away, but no, that would appear to be too much to ask for. He jerkily rose to his feet, Oliver catching him by one arm to balance him. "I- uh - that is, I'll see you next time we're in," Percy said, flustered. He was oddly at a loss as to what to do with his arms, and swung them a bit. They were rebellious, and seemed to want to reach out to hug Oliver. Behave yourselves, he warned them firmly. Of all the times to lose his mind.

Oliver was on his feet now too, shuffling. "Yeah," he said awkwardly. "Maybe soon, I -" This time Percy was certain Oliver was blushing a bit. "Stay out of trouble, Hero. I intend to win that bet," he said at last, sounding like his normal self.

Percy shook his head, trying to ignore Charlie's presence. "I'll stay out of trouble if you do." That came out a little more seriously than he'd meant it to.

But Oliver just nodded, gravely. Not knowing what else to say, Percy turned away, with a half wave to Oliver, and walked with Charlie back to the building.

Halfway there, Charlie snickered and said, "Something you'd like to tell me, Percy?"

Percy felt the blush return. "No," he said firmly.

Charlie snickered. "No? You and Oliver looked pretty cozy there...." he trailed off teasingly.

"We were talking, Charlie," he said, stiffly.

Charlie snorted. "Uh huh. There's a reason Weasleys are known for telling the truth Percy." He reached over and pinched Percy's cheek, much to his outrage. "It's because we have this little tendency to blush when we're lying."

"I'm not lying!" Percy protested. "We were just sitting there talking!"

"Uh huh."

"We were!"

"Whatever you say," Charlie smirked, clearly unconvinced.

"Charlie! I'm not lying. We. Were. Just. Talking."

"You were, were you?"

"Yes! We're just friends!"

"Funny, I don't recall even suggesting that the two of you were more than friends. Now why WOULD you leap to that conclusion, hmmm?"

Percy spluttered and decided to go with offended silence. Hadn't said it indeed. He had so been saying exactly what Percy thought he'd been saying. Blighter.

Two steps. Three. "Of course what with him calling you cute pet names, 'Hero', and the cuddling and the blushing, a casual observer COULD get the impression that there was something going on there."

Percy gave an inarticulate sound of frustration and took advantage of his longer legs to try to outdistance his brother. Charlie merely sped up, chuckling.

Bad enough if he'd been caught in a clinch by the brother least likely to keep his mouth shut. A thousand times worse to be caught by him when you're just wishing there was something to be caught for.

~~

Two months later, Percy Weasley was unimpressed. On desk work for another week, after an injury that nearly killed him, it had become an almost constant state. He was seated at the end of a long table, manned by other injured Wizards who were not quite ready to go back on duty. Some, he reflected guiltily, were never going to go back on duty. So the least he could do was try to be a little more enthusiastic about this. Even if it was patently make-work, to keep recovering patients out of trouble. The hall was empty right now; the next group of injured wouldn't be in for several hours. When they did come in, it would be his job, along with the others, to take the basic information: Name, Nature of Injury, Reason for Injury, etc. Altogether depressing and uninspiring work.

Percy sighed as he heard the door open, and returned to his absent-minded planning. Probably Madam Cordell, who seemed obsessed with checking up on them today. What, exactly, she thought they might be doing in here to cause a relapse Percy couldn't imagine.

"Blake, look, I'm fine, I don't need to be here."

A familiar voice broke Percy's concentration and his head flew up. Only a couple feet in front of him stood Oliver Wood, arguing with an older Wizard.

Blake glared at Oliver. "That was a suicide mission, Oliver! And there was no need for it! You're having a breakdown. The last month you've been grieving over somebody. There's no shame in needing help, and you need help. You won't talk to any of us, fine, you'll talk to the people here."

Oliver spun and started stalking towards the tables with a growl. He was thinner than when Percy had last seen him. He looked older too, and badly in need of a haircut. Percy's heart was in his throat as he spoke. "Oliver? Are you okay?"

Oliver froze, staring at Percy as if he'd never seen him before. "Percy?"

Percy could feel the blood rushing to his face, as he tried to think of something to say. Oliver was sheet white, and Percy thought he looked like he might faint. "Oliver, are you okay? You look - "

Oliver walked over to stand by the table in front of him, still staring. To Percy's shock, there were tears in his eyes.

"You look tired, did you want to sit down?" Percy stood, nearly knocking over his own chair in the process. Oliver was leaning on the table now.

"We heard you were dead," Oliver said, in an almost absent tone of voice.

Percy winced. This was the third person he'd run across this week who had heard that rumour. Somehow bad news always seemed to travel faster than good. "No, I was injured fairly badly, but the healers were close by," he shrugged, trying to downplay the incident.

"You're okay," Oliver said, clearly in shock. "Oh gods, Percy, I thought you were dead."

This is for me? The realization stunned Percy, and he scrambled to his friend. "I'm not. See?" He made a vague gesture at his standing form. "I'm back on duty in a week. I could go back now, but regulations won't let me." He winced at the faintly sulky tone out of his voice for that last sentence, noticing Carter and Ella next to him were both openly listening to the conversation now.

"You never change," Oliver laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. "Percy, I thought you were DEAD."

Unnerved by the attention they were attracting, Percy walked around the table and pulled Oliver towards the door. "Come on, then, let's talk in the hall." He ignored Carter's grin as they left the room.

They were barely six feet from the door when Oliver stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, still staring as if to reassure himself Percy was real, and Percy was finding it hard to breathe. "You see? I'm fine," Percy said, desperately, still trying to convince Oliver. "I did send you a letter, but I guess you didn't get it. I've only been up again for a couple weeks, and I -"

"Percy, will you do something for me?" Oliver asked, very quietly. "Blame this on the fact that I thought you were dead, okay?"

Bewildered, Percy had only time to nod before Oliver's lips were on his, in a hard, desperate kiss. A tentative tongue at Percy's lips, and unthinkingly he opened his mouth, leaning into the kiss, and reaching up to tangle his fingers in the over-long hair. Oliver pulled back after a moment, and Percy reluctantly let go, realizing how they must look, if anyone walked by. He looked at Oliver, helpless to come up with anything to say. Oliver smiled at him again, nodded, then turned, and walked back towards the room.

Percy stood motionless for a moment, thoughts racing. Say something, oh god, say something before he takes off back to wherever he was with this Blake. Just say anything to him, Percy. Please.

Unable to come up with anything, he rushed to catch up. Just as Oliver reached the door, he finally found sound again. "Oliver?"
Oliver froze, then turned to face him, anxiety written across his face. You're making a fool of yourself, Percy, a complete and total fool... But he did kiss you. You don't go around kissing people you don't like. Not that sort of kiss, anyway. Percy took a deep breath. "Oliver?"

Oliver nodded jerkily, hope creeping into his eyes.

"Blame it on whatever you want," Percy said, almost whispering, as he leaned in to kiss him. Short, anxious little kisses, not like before. It seemed very important that he be as close to Oliver as possible. Not his fault, he thought absently, pulling Oliver still closer. Iron shavings, magnets, all that. Closer is good.

After a moment he became aware that Oliver was muttering between kisses. "Thought you were dead, oh thank gods. Percy. Love you, you know that right? Gods-"

Percy pulled back just enough to look Oliver in the eye, only now realizing how tightly he was gripping Oliver's arms. "You know, we might want to actually talk about this," he said, wide eyed.

Oliver's slow grin healed things Percy hadn't even known were broken. "Yeah. Talking. Or we could just keep kissing," he was half laughing as he spoke, and shaking like a leaf.

I suppose it would be rather disturbing to have someone come back from the dead like this, Percy thought. "Talking, kissing, whatever, are you...can you…that is..." He stumbled over the words, trying to find a way to ask. "Stay?"

Oliver never broke eye contact. "Blake, may I have a week's leave of absence?"

Percy looked over Oliver's shoulder to see the older Wizard hesitantly stick his head out the door, and Percy abruptly felt dizzy at the speed this was moving, and the memory that there were other people around. "You have one week, Wood. Have a nice leave." He walked past them, a satisfied grin on his face, before Oliver could even thank him.

Percy resisted the urge to hide his head on Oliver's shoulder and focused on trying to get his stubborn hands to release Oliver's sleeves. Oliver grinned at him, the old look Percy had seen falling away, leaving him looking his proper age again. "Talking now, Percy?" he breathed, leaning in to gently brush his lips against Percy's cheek.

Percy tried to remember what it was he was supposed to be doing, couldn't think of anything, and just nodded, dropping his hands to his side.

Oliver reached over and caught him by the hand, pulling him down the hall. Percy wondered if he should really be wandering off from his make-work, but suspected they'd probably be just as happy to get rid of him. Who would have thought they'd have objected so strongly to a little bit of organization?

Besides, he and Oliver needed to talk.

Without further delay.

Grinning, Percy pulled Oliver down the corridor to his temporary quarters.

The End.