Whining and knotted socks
Oliver and Percy were friends, they really were. But they were so damn different sometimes it was hard for the both of them.
Percy sighted and massaged his temples as Oliver once again growled something from his side of the room.
"Oh, what now?" he snapped.
Trying to study in a room with a sulking, broody Oliver Wood proved extremely difficult.
"What if I don't make it? They won't tell us who made it until tomorrow! It's unbearable, I can't take this!" Oliver rolled around his bed complaining over and over again, making the most pitiful noises known to man.
"Oh, for the love of Merlin's beard Oliver… really now, you're only twelve there's little to no chance that you'll make the team this year, they never choose younger students…" Percy really just wanted to finish his potions essay today so that he could revise it a couple of times before handing it in to professor Snape.
"Some friend you are…" Oliver said, grumpily throwing a sock that he had knotted into a ball into the air before catching it again.
"I'm not trying to push you down I'm just being realistic, you could try out next year again… why don't you just work on your potions essay with me instead?" Percy said patiently, scribbling a few words on his parchment. Maybe if the babbling buffoon worked with him he could get some peace and quiet and actually get this done with.
"Its due three weeks from now!" Oliver scrunched up his tiny nose and sat up in his bed "You're the only one who would work on it already!"
"I remember you admiring my intellect once… and if you don't do it now we both know you'll be sitting there in the last minute writing it down in a panic, begging me to help you"
"That's because I still value your intellect, I admire it, remember?" Oliver said and threw his hand up in defiance and managed to let the sock slip out of his hand while doing so, it hit Percy in the face.
His cheeks flushed red with a sort of anger Oliver had learned to fear even if just a little.
"Sorry?" Oliver tried meekly, shrugging and giving off his best 'silly, Scottish sport-fanatic boy did something stupid which he regrets' smile and Percy only sighted throwing the sock back at Oliver.
if you manage to get on the team, you manage to get on the team… and if
not-" he saw the Scottish boy cringe at that but continued "If not… you can try again next year"
He wrote some more words on his essay as Oliver slumped his shoulders and sighted.
"What if there won't be a try-out next year?"
Percy just sighted and rolled his eyes.
"Isn't Marie Donovan playing Keeper now?" Percy asked slowly turning his bespectacled eyes towards his dorm-mate.
"And is she not a seventh-year, meaning she will graduate this year?"
"Yeah, she is!" Oliver seemed to beam at this realization.
"And what about Nigel Simmons, the beater?"
"He's a seventh-year too!" Oliver beamed even more at this.
"Yes, so obviously there will be another tryout next year, so will you please shut up about it? Honestly you can be rather stupid sometimes; maybe your uncle is right..."
"Oy! I resent that!" Oliver lay back down again.
It was silent in the room now and Percy thanked whatever God or great magician that was listening for that. Maybe this time he could study in peace.
The silent only lasted a few second though before Oliver started rolling around in his bed, once more whining to himself.
"But I wanna play no-ow!"
Percy sighted, put his quill down and pushed his glasses up.
"Oh, I give up" he said getting up from his desk and stormed out of the dorm. Maybe he should just go straight to the library next time.