Tyrants and bludgers to the head
A rather dirty looking Oliver Wood crashed into their dormitory at sunset, not bothering to shower or even change he collapsed to his bed. He had grown rather tall this year; he was practically the same height as Percy by now.
Percy looked up from his book in disgust.
"You will shower" he said bluntly. Oliver merely mumbled something into his pillow that could have been 'can't be bothered' but sounded more like "c'uufh' b' boff'rd".
In fact he could just as easily have said 'cuffs and brothels' but Percy sincerely hoped he hadn’t. No, the other seemed more likely.
"Oh, you will shower Oliver or I'll make you!"
Oliver simply showed the other one a crude gesture but regretted it as soon as a shower of water coming from said person's wand hit him full force in his bed. A soaking wet Oliver Wood sat up spurting water from his mouth, a shocked look on his handsome features. Because Oliver Wood was growing quite handsome, or so he had been told.
"Awa and fuck yersel ya bas!" Oliver spat when he finally got a grip of what actually happened to him.
"Watch your filthy Scottish mouth Oliver or I'll have to wash it as well" Percy warned but with a slight smile to his lips. They were quiet for a while before they both burst out laughing like maniacs.
"Yer brother is a tyrant but I think I love him a little" Oliver said jokingly when they had finally calmed down.
"You poof" Percy smiled jokingly and wiggled an eyebrow "will you become my brother in-law in some time then?"
Oliver threw the first thing he could find at his friend which happened to be his pillow.
"I didn't mean it like that you dickheed" they smiled towards each other not needing to say anything else.
"Hm… no, but really… You should watch your mouth a little more" Percy closed his book guessing he wouldn't get to read much at the moment.
"Oy! You're not prefect yet pretty boy, you can't do a thing!" Oliver's smile seemed to grow more confident every year, especially now that he had made keeper for their house’s Quidditch team.
"I could always tell my brother on you" Percy smiled at the look of terror on Oliver's face and he stifled a laugh.
"oh, keep your socks on. I wouldn't do that!"
They smiled again and fell into comfortable silence.
"So… you looking forward to the big game tomorrow?" Percy asked after a while, breaking the silence.
"I'm scared to death, what if I screw up?" Oliver fell to his wet mattress again with a sight. The mattress gave a sort of squishy sound at the movement.
"Well it's your first game; I think you're allowed to screw up…" Percy said thoughtfully.
Oliver just shook his head.
"Gryffindor haven't won a game for years, this is important. And Charlie doesn't seem to think that screwing up is okay. That's why he's been training us so hard!" Oliver had a worried expression etched to his face as he spoke.
"I know my brother, he's nice. He won't be mad and he won't kick you off the team if that's what you're thinking…" Percy walked over and sat on Oliver's bed.
"He's nice… that's why you have a crush on him" Percy added to his statement and laughed, Oliver glared.
"Oh, sod off!"
But Percy didn't move, not that the Scotsman had meant it. It was all in good fun.
Percy started to move his hand in small, comforting circles on Oliver's back. Oliver couldn't help but think that it felt rather nice.
"My mother always does this when we are stressed or upset… I think it has a calming effect"
Oliver only grunted approvingly, eyes closed. He felt Percy's warm hand through his still damp shirt.
"'T 'Feels nice" he mumbled, stress slowly lifting from his back. Should he be worried that the other boy's touch sort of burnt his skin through the fabric making him shift as heat shot threw his body? He was way too relaxed to think about that now. Even the upcoming game was swept from his mind at the moment.
Just a week later Oliver woke up in the hospital wing feeling rather queasy. He remembered being rather distracted as his first game had begun; he had noticed Percy there at the bleacher which was weird.
As far as Oliver knew Percy liked Quidditch and could get quite into it if a team he liked was playing, but he wasn’t that invested in the school cup because it took too much time from his studies. Had he come for Oliver's sake?
He remembers being confused and flustered, not knowing why he felt that way and then he remembered pain. He didn't remember much after that.