The Keeper's Curse

Note: Chapter 4, finally. Dun duh-dun dun dun... Percy and Oliver's confrontation...

Chapter Four

A Farewell to Sanity

It was dark, almost too dark in the 7^th year boys dormitory up in Gryffindor tower, which was a good thing for Oliver Wood as he landed silently on the window ledge. He unhinged the window and crept sneakily inside. He then quickly closed the window behind him, so the downpour outside wouldn’t disturb his roommates. He was still in his Quidditch practice robe which was still dripping wet and leaving a slippery trail of water behind him. He gently leaned his broom against the wall and quietly opened the closet door. He changed out of his robe and proceeded to the shower.

Unfortunately, Oliver wasn’t the only one who was still awake in the room. Due to Oliver’s arrival, the room was filled with a gust of cold wind that circled around twice and dispersed above Percy’s bed. Percy slowly rolled over, and heard a crunch as his head rolled over the crumpled parchment that lied on his pillow. As he felt the moistness of wet ink and drool across his cheek, he woke up in a startled manner. He wiped his face on his pajama sleeve and sat up. A thin crease of light was visible from under the bathroom door.

Oliver should have remembered that Percy was very alert and vigilant even in sleep, before he snuck in. The 7^th years have always mocked Percy for his “princess and the pea” tendencies.

Percy felt around for the wrinkled parchment, he picked it up, straightened it out, and placed it under the large column of textbooks on his nightstand. Percy brushed the hangings from his bed and tiptoed toward the bathroom. Rubbing his eyes as he walked toward the streak of yellow light, he noticed a Nimbus 2002 leaned up against the wall. He walked toward the broom and picked it up. While gripping the handle he felt a tiny inscription with the letters “O.W.”

“Oliver Wood… Should’ve known he would be the delinquent…” he thought to himself grumpily. At that instant, the shower knobs quietly squeaked. Percy ran to the open closet door and hid behind it, broom still in his hands. Oliver Wood walked out in his boxers, his head buried in a towel, drying his hair. Oliver walked to his bed and then toward the closet.

He sleepily walked in partially and he patted the clothes on the hangers, trying to recognize the soft texture of his light-blue checkered pajamas. His hands proceeded down the rack, deeper into the closet. Until, his hands seemed to hit something hard, not rigid but a bit bouncy. Having recognized this as being his pajamas, his hands guided his way towards the top to reach for the hanger. He gripped the top of the rack, he was grabbing something soft and fleshy, almost like it was…

“Ah-choo!” a sneeze was heard from the closet.

It was Percy’s nose!

“Ahhh!” Oliver jumped back suddenly and fell onto the floor. He landed hard on his buttocks with his legs sprawled out in front of him. And his arms were edging backwards across the floor toward his bedpost.

Percy stepped out while rubbing his bruised nose, his other hand was still holding the broom.

“Ohh… Percy, it’s just you.” Oliver let out a sigh of relief as he recognized his faint silhouette.

“Yeah, who did you think it was? Sirius Black?” Percy said in the friendliest voice that he could muster up, his eyes were twitching awkwardly, the most obvious sign that he was not being sincere.

“What are you doing up so late? What were you doing in the closet?” Oliver asked innocently, unaware of Percy’s furious eye-twitching frenzy.

“Ha ha! What am I doing up so late? I? Heh heh…yes. Oliver Wood asks: what am I doing up so late? Ha ha ha, I laugh! Heh heh heh, hee hee hee, ha—yes.” Percy was acting quite maniacally.

A groan was heard from one of the beds nearby, “…but I want some cotton candy too mom…” someone mumbled. The two boys turned toward the bed, the person tossed over and returned to sub-consciousness once again.

Oliver was still sprawled out on the floor in his boxers, he frantically reached for his t-shirt that was lying on his bed and pulled it on. Percy took advantage of Oliver’s vulnerable position, (yes, Percy still had his HB badge pinned onto his pajamas), and having the authority of being a Head Boy, Percy felt he could do whatever he wanted. (Hey, who said athletes are the ones who can get away with anything?) He lunged out and grabbed the kid by the shirt collar and lifted him to his feet. He dragged him along toward the bathroom, swung the door closed, flicked on the light and slammed the Quidditch captain against the tiled wall.

Oliver didn’t object to this harsh treatment, he could easily take Percy on, but a small speck of guilt caused him to restrain himself, not to mention the fact that it was 3:00 AM.

Oliver noticed smudged black ink on Percy’s right cheek, he must have been writing a letter in bed and then fell asleep on it. Compelled to tell him but he couldn’t help staring at Percy’s intense eyes which had now become what seemed to be a fiery shade of red.

“Where in the world were you this late at night? What the heck were you doing?” inquired Percy. His knuckles had gone white while mercilessly clenching Wood’s shirt collar.

He opened his mouth to testify, but nothing would come out, he was speechless.

“Well? What were you doing?”

“I was just practicing Quidditch and I lost track of the time,” Oliver answered assertively.

“Really? Then why was the entire Gryffindor team here at the tower at 9? Hmmm?”

“Just the other day, Madame Hooch asked me to clean out the equipment shed since I was the only one who knew how to sort the brooms by twig circumference, so I did.”

Percy felt that Oliver’s shoulders had tensed from under his knuckles. His clear brown eyes turned a hazy and unfocused. His throat started throbbing. Percy knew Oliver was horrible at lying, and it was evident that he had tried his best to conceal the fact.

“Don’t lie to me, you don’t seem to understand the load of crap you’ll be in with Professor McGonagall tomorrow morning, do you? I am a Head Boy and I can make your life a real living hell, or are you too thickheaded to understand that? So I suggest you spit it out, were you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t give me that kind of crap, Wood.” Suddenly, a thought appeared in his head, Oliver’s guilty eyes and twitching lips told the whole story. Percy’s eyes widened.

“Penelope… Penelope Clearwater… You were with her, weren’t you?”

“No, don’t take it like that. We didn’t do anything, we were just—“

His biggest fear was confirmed. Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, stole the ex-girlfriend of Percy Weasley, the Head Boy of Hogwarts. They only broke up 2 hours before Oliver Wood came along and swept up the pieces of Penelope, with a finders-keepers air to him.

“You stay away from Miss Clearwater, you reeking pile of turd. If I ever see the 2 of you together I’m going to tell the professors about every single slip-up of yours. It’s your 7^th year, Wood; you wouldn’t want to repeat it would you? I’m going to make sure they kick your stinking arse right out of this school if you ever get in my way again. And who are the professors going to trust more? Their beloved Head Boy or some thickheaded jock like you?”

Oliver opened his mouth, but he closed it quickly, realizing it was a rhetorical question.

“Good, I think I’ve finally gotten through to you.” Percy aggressively released his cold white knuckles from Oliver and walked out of the bathroom.

Oliver just stood there, leaned up against the wall, “Oh my God, who spiked Percy’s pumpkin juice?” he thought to himself. As his back slid down the tiled wall, he began reevaluating the situation. “I think I missed something—did Percy just blackmail me?” he thought to himself. Percy was really crossing over the border into insanity yet he still took to heart what Percy was saying. Oliver wasn’t very studious but he definitely wasn’t a delinquent; repeating his 7^th year, or worse, being expelled would be the bane of his existence. His parents would probably disown him, and he couldn’t begin to imagine the disappointment from his mentor, Charlie. He was usually the one who was unaffected by Percy Weasley’s hollow authority, this time however, he felt weak and vulnerable. He felt as if Percy had stabbed him in his Achilles’ heel.

But the one thing he couldn’t stop thinking about amidst this mess was Penelope. He began to get this dizzy tingling sensation when thinking about her, “I think I love her or something…” He rubbed his forehead rhythmically, trying to rid himself of the image of her smile. What Percy said only made him feel more attracted to Penelope. He didn’t know what was wrong with him; he was always after a challenge. The harder something is to grasp, the harder he tries to reach for it. To him, this was his biggest flaw.

Percy stood against the other side of the closed bathroom door, he was still furious. But the steam coming through his enlarged nostrils began to cool down. His heartbeat slowed. For a second, he placed the blame on himself, everything that happened over the course of the day, somehow began with his own decision to try out for the Quidditch team. But he shook his head, the image of his faults vanished like a drawing on an Etch-a-sketch board. He straightened himself up, and upon leaving the room, he eyed the Nimbus 2002 in the corner. He picked it up with the intention of smacking Oliver upside the head with it, instead he threw it across the room hoping to crack it half. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t strong enough to do that, it slammed against the wall with a clunk. He had better ways of breaking the two of them apart. He thought as he descended down the dark winding staircase toward the common room. Now if only he had accomplices…

He smirked.