Unintended

At nine the morning the next day, Percy's work was interrupted by loud knocking. He opened the door, and Oliver stood there in a faded t-shirt and worn jeans, his hair messy and looking rather agitated.

"Oliver? What are you doing here?" said Percy, inviting him in. As far as he could remember, Oliver had never gotten up early unless he had to; sleep was precious to him.

"I'm sorry, Perce," he said, heading for the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" asked Percy, following him. Oliver took off his shoes and burrowed underneath the bed covers, only the tip of his head showing. "Oliver, what are you doing?"

"I'm sulking," he said, his voice muffled by the sheets.

"I can't hear you from underneath there," said Percy, leaning against the wall.

"I'm sulking," he repeated, pushing down the covers so that his face was showing.

"And why would you be sulking? Moreover, why are you sulking in my bed?" said Percy impatiently. "Why can't you go sulk in your own bed?"

"Because I don't have a bed."

"You mean to tell me that your hotel room doesn't have a bed?" said Percy skeptically.

"No, it does," said Oliver, closing his eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again. "Perce, did you know that for the past eight years I have never once slept in my own bed in my own home? For eight years I have slept in beds all over the world, in all sorts of hotels and apartments and other people's homes, but not once have I ever had a bed to call my own. Eight years. That's a mighty long time."

"I'm sorry, Oliver," said Percy, who had not been prepared to hear this confession.

"The last time I had my own bed was back at Hogwarts," continued Oliver. "I miss that bed. It had the softest pillows..."

"Oliver, get to the point," said Percy impatiently.

He opened his eyes. "Percy, do you remember Alice?"

"My memory is perfectly intact," replied Percy.

"No need to get snippy, Perce." Oliver sighed. "Well, she wouldn't sleep with me."

"That is what you came to bother me about?" said Percy, throwing up his hands in frustration. "God, Oliver."

"You don't understand," said Oliver. "No girl, no woman, has ever refused me before."

"There's always a first," said Percy.

"Stop making light of it," said Oliver, sounding wounded. "This is serious."

"To you it is. But honestly, I can think of a lot more things that I consider serious. Like my work, for instance."

"I'm Oliver Wood!" he yelled, suddenly jumping out of bed and shaking his fist in Percy's direction. "I'm one of the best Quidditch players in Britain!"

"I know you are," said Percy, slightly alarmed at his outburst.

"I can have whoever I want," he said, grabbing Percy's wrists and pinning him to the wall. "I can even have you."

"Oliver, let go," said Percy firmly.

"I remember what happened Friday night," he said. "I wasn't as drunk as you thought I was. I was acting."

"Okay, Oliver, that's good. Just let me go now," said Percy. "Let me go and we'll go fix things, alright?"

Instead of replying, Oliver leaned down and kissed Percy, letting go of his wrists and resting his own arms against the wall on either side of Percy's head. Moments later, he pulled away, breathing heavily. Then he turned away, put on his shoes, and walked to the door.

"You can't fix things that aren't broken," he said in a cryptic voice, closing the door softly behind him.

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Distracted by the morning's interruption, Percy wasn't able to get much done. After sending some memos and making sure the Minister's schedule was at least up to date for the next two days, he put down his quill and brewed himself a cup of tea. Feeling slightly hungry, he made himself pasta. The second he finished eating and washing the dishes, he heard a knock at the door.

He walked over to the door, wrenched it open and began, "Oliver Wood, you--"

"Hello, Percy," said Alice Newbury.

"Oh, Alice. It's you," he said. He opened the door so she could come in. "Er, sorry about that. It's just that Oliver...well, never mind. Can I get you something to drink? I'm brewing some tea."

"Tea would be nice," she said, sitting down and placing a wrapped package on the table.

"What's this?" said Percy, spotting the package when he came back with the teapot.

"It's for you," she said. "I...I'm sorry about last night."

"Why should you be sorry?" said Percy, sitting down across from her.

"Look, Oliver and I...well, I know it was you in the hallway," she said. "And I just wanted to you to know that it wasn't what you thought it was. Nothing happened between us."

"Yes, Oliver said so himself."

"You've already spoken to him?" She looked surprised.

"He came over this morning and ranted about it for half an hour," said Percy, stirring milk into his tea.

"You two must be close friends."

"Not really," said Percy. "We were classmates at Hogwarts, but we never really spoke. He was on the Quidditch team and all the girls adored him. And I was, well, a nerdy prefect."

"No, not nerdy," she said. "Responsible. So what did Oliver say?"

"Oh, nothing really," said Percy. "He was just surprised that you didn't like him."

"Oh, it's not that I don't like him. I certainly do, but just not in the way he wants me to, you understand. Oliver is the kind of man who always gets what he wants, at least with women, anyway. He can't stand to be rejected."

"Do you know him that well?"

"No," she admitted. "We've never met before last night. But I know that type fairly well. I've been with a few."

"He seemed really hurt."

"Oh, he'll get over it," said Alice. "He's just being dramatic. I'm sure he'll find someone else to warm his bed before long." She tossed her long hair behind her shoulder. "Anyway, enough about that. Why don't you open that package?"

Percy carefully unwrapped the paper and discovered two brand new books.

"Those are the two books I've written," said Alice. "I'm working on a third right now."

"I'll be sure to read them," said Percy sincerely. "Thank you."

"Usually when people say that I know they won't read it," said Alice, her eyes dancing. "But I know you will. I also wanted to invite you to dinner at my house tonight."

"Oh," said Percy, caught off guard.

"We can reschedule if you're busy," she said, noticing the stack of papers on the kitchen counter.

"No, no, I'm not busy," said Percy. "What should I bring?"

"A hearty appetite," said Alice, grinning. "My cook makes the most delicious pies you've ever tasted."

She gave him directions to her house and then excused herself, saying that she had some personal business to attend to.

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Percy walked down the country road, inhaling the smell of sweet blossoms. The road soon narrowed into a small pathway, which led to a quaint, but spacious country house. The house, built out of stone, sprawled across a hill like a lazy cat dozing in the afternoon sun. The wide, white veranda had a porch swing that faced the road and the bees buzzed happily amid the flowers in the garden.

A small, white kitten approached him and rubbed its head against his legs when he stepped onto the porch. He petted its soft head and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, Alice came to the door in a simple, yet elegant dress. The buttercup-yellow silk seemed to make her glow, and for a moment Percy just stood there.

"Well, come on in," said Alice, taking his hand and pulling him through the doorway. "You're right on time," she said, leading him into the dining room. The table was set for two, with a vase of sunflowers in the middle. "Be right back," she said, leaving the room.

She came back a minute later with a piping hot raspberry pie.

"Pie for dinner?" said Percy, raising an eyebrow.

"Dessert first because life is short, so you might as well enjoy it," said Alice, with a broad smile. She served pie to both of them.

"This is really good," said Percy. "You were right about your cook."

"Thank you," said Alice, smiling mischievously. Percy gave her a confused look. "I'm the cook."

"You mean, you don't have servants or anything?"

"Oh, I have a maid," she replied. "Just to help me keep this place from turning into a pigsty. I misplace things a lot, so she's a big help. But other than that, I do everything myself."

"How do you find time to write?" asked Percy.

"Oh, I don't find time. It finds me." Percy didn't look like he understood, so she explained further. "When I get inspired to write, I stop whatever I'm doing, call my maid in, and just start writing. I don't stop until I'm satisfied. It can take minutes, hours, or even days.

"The worst thing is when I get stuck. It's the most frustrating thing in the world. I basically just wander around and try to get back on track. But usually once I grab hold of one idea, the others just come naturally."

The conversation soon moved to other topics, and by the time they had eaten their way backwards to the soup course, Percy was feeling very content. He had never found it easy to make small talk, especially not with women. But around Alice he didn't feel self-conscious, and he opened up to her, even telling her stories of his childhood.

"It must've been nice to have so many siblings," said Alice wistfully. "I'm an only child. My younger sister died at birth, and my mother died giving birth to her. My father became so depressed that he turned to drinking, and eventually he was deemed an unfit parent. I was sent to live with my uncle, and he and I have been very close ever since."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Alice," said Percy. "It must've been very hard for you."

"It was, but let's not talk of these depressing things," she said, standing up. "How about a tour of the house?"

At Alice's insistence, they left the dishes on the table and went outside.

"The garden's kind of wild," she said, bending down to pluck a weed. "But I like it this way. It wouldn't be as interesting otherwise. And besides, I've never seen real flowers grow in straight rows, have you?"

He followed her to the backyard, where there was a little brook with a wooden bridge over it. They went back inside the house, where she showed him the sitting room, which had a fireplace and cozy armchairs. What intrigued him most were all the photographs hanging on the walls. Some were of wild animals, others of people.

"That one's me," said Alice, pointing to a picture of a small girl holding a frog.

"Who is this?" asked Percy, indicating a picture of a beautiful woman who looked quite like Alice did now.

"My mother," said Alice softly.

"You look so much alike," said Percy. "Both beautiful." He blushed when he realized what he had said and found Alice looking at him strangely.

"Tell me, Percy, is that all you see when you look at me?" she said sharply, her eyes probing into him. "Just a pretty girl?"

"N-no, that's not what I meant," he said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"It's alright," she said, and he followed her out of the room.

She showed him the library next. It was where she did her writing. The walls were lined with shelves full of books, and the large desk faced a stained glass window that cast a lovely array of colors into the room during the afternoon.

"This is my figurine collection," she said, pointing to a glass display cabinet with all sorts of little glass animals in it. "I'm trying to get all the animals I can possibly think of. You know, for a glass menagerie, like the book." She looked at Percy's expression and laughed. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"No, I don't," said Percy. "Unusual, perhaps, but in a good way."

"Unusual," she said. "I like that. I like being unusual."

"What animals don't you have?" asked Percy, leaning closer to get a better look.

"I don't even know," she said. "I only have about twenty of them, so there are probably a lot of animals I don't have yet. I only started the collection a few years back after my uncle gave me the book and my first glass animal for my birthday. It's that bear in the middle. His Patronus is a bear."

"When is it? Your birthday, I mean."

"It's in August," she said. "And I know you're wondering this because I can practically see the question shooting out of your mind, but my Patronus is a dove."

"Mine's a spotted owl," said Percy. "Not very manly, I guess."

"What's wrong with an owl? They're supposed to be wise animals." Percy shrugged.

They went up the stairs, where Alice refused to show him her room.

"It's messy," she claimed. "You'd be appalled."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," said Percy.

"I saw how tidy your apartment was. You'd faint for sure."

Finally, Percy managed to convince her to let him take a quick peek, and she opened the door.

"Oh, come on," he said. "It's not bad at all. I've seen much worse."

The bed wasn't made and there were dresses piled on the floor next to it, as if she had tried them all on and decided not to wear any of them. But otherwise, the room was clean and neat. The curtains, white and lacy, matched the canopy above the bed. All the furniture was white, contrasted by the darkness of the wood floor.

"Let's not linger here," she said, shooing him out and shutting the door. "Let me show you the other rooms."

There were three other rooms: a sunroom, a guest suite, and what Alice called the costume room.

"I keep all my costumes in here," she said, turning on the light. Racks upon racks of costume clothing and accessories filled the room, along with an ornate dressing table with little pots of makeup and brushes. "I love dressing up. My friends and I take turns hosting masquerade balls a few times a year, and I've acquired a lot of costumes over the years. I even have wigs to go along with some of them."

"Where do you host the ball?" asked Percy. "It doesn't seem like you would have space for it in your house."

"Oh, we like to do them outside, if the weather's nice. If not, we just go down into my basement, which I haven't shown you because it's being cleaned out at the moment," explained Alice. "You should really come to one of them, Percy. They're loads of fun. I'm actually hosting one to celebrate my birthday in about three weeks. Please say you'll come."

"That depends on how much work I have," said Percy.

"There's going to be a full moon, and I'm sure the weather will be gorgeous. Oh, please, Percy," she pleaded. "I'm sure my uncle wouldn't mind. In fact, I'll send him an invitation too."

"I haven't got any costumes though," he said.

"Oh, no need to worry. I've got men's costumes too," she said. "Just come over a little early and you can pick whichever one you like."

Out of excuses, he agreed to attend.

"It's half past nine," he said, looking at his watch. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I have work tomorrow."

"I'm really glad you came," said Alice sincerely.

"I'm glad I came too," he said. "I'll hope I'll see you soon."