Unintended

The following day, Percy's alarm birds woke him at six o'clock sharp. He silenced them and quickly went to take a shower. The hot water pounded against his skin, injecting warmth into his tired body. He dressed in Ministry robes and then went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

There had not been a single day in Percy's life where he had not eaten a proper breakfast. No matter how early he had to get up, there were at least scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee to fill his stomach. His mother had always cooked heaps of food for the family, and at Hogwarts he had always made sure to get downstairs to the Great Hall in time. Now that he was living on his own, he still practiced the same habits.

He cracked two eggs, beat them, and poured them into the heated pan. He stuck two pieces of toast in the toaster oven and brewed coffee. As he poured the coffee into a mug, there was a tap at the window, and he moved to let the owl in. It stuck out its leg, and Percy dropped three Knuts into the pouch. The owl hooted, dropped the newspaper, narrowly missing the sink, and flew off. He took the paper to the table and ate while he read. Finished eating, he cleaned the plates and went off to work.

He walked the few city blocks to a brick building which looked like it was on the verge of crumbling to the ground. He went inside what was marked as the men's bathroom. All of stalls were marked with signs that said "Out of Order," but Percy stepped inside the first one and clambered awkwardly into the toilet. Standing straight up, he pulled the chain above his head, and the toilet made a flushing sound and his surroundings blurred. A second later, he was standing in the golden halls of the Ministry.

"Good morning, Percy," said a voice from his left.

"Oh, hello, Wyatt," he said. Wyatt Zimmenbloffer was the Minister's Junior Assisstant, and since they were merely a few years apart in age, they called each other by their first names. "You're here rather early today."

"The Minister's rather busy today, so I thought I should come in a little earlier than I usually do," he replied, and they went up the lift together.

The Minister's office was in a secluded hallway containing many conference rooms that he used interchangeably; Percy and Wyatt shared the office next to the Minister's. The Minister's office had its own private lift, but only he was allowed to use it. The office was very large--the largest in the building--and it was decorated to his rather eccentric tastes. The walls were adorned with everything from finger paintings to odd tapestries. Whenever the Minister felt particularly stressed, he liked to finger paint, a skill taught to him by a small child.

The room also contained many bookcases, stuffed with books, scrolls, spare parchment, maps, and newspapers. His desk was littered with papers, quills, memos, and discarded sweet wrappers. He was fond of Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, and each week he sent Wyatt to pick up the basket from Honeydukes. He kept a large collection of Chocolate Frog cards in one of the drawers in his large filing cabinet, along with a list of all the flavors of Beans he had ever eaten.

Percy and Wyatt walked into their own office, and Wyatt immediately rushed off to get breakfast for the Minister, for he would be arriving any minute now. The Minister was a punctual man, and he liked to arrive at his office at exactly seven o' clock each morning. Indeed, not thirty seconds after Wyatt had left the room, the Minister came down the hallway. He entered his office, sat down, and began looking at the stack of memos on his desk.

Wyatt returned, balancing the coffee and pastry on a small tray, and Percy followed him into the Minister's office. Wyatt set the tray to the left of his arm, bowed, and stepped back. The Minister reached for his coffee, sipped it, and turned to his two assistants.

"Good morning, Percival. Good morning, Wyatt," he said, nodding at the two of them. He insisted on calling them by their first names, even suggesting that they call him Atticus, but they declined.

"Good morning, Minister," they said.

"I really wish you would just call me Atticus," said the Minister, sighing.

"Oh no, sir, we couldn't possibly," said Wyatt.

They had this same conversation every single morning. Percy could have said the words in his sleep.

"Wyatt, bring me my agenda."

"Yes, sir, right away, sir," said Wyatt, streaking off to their shared office and bringing back a piece of lavender colored parchment. The Minister skimmed over it, humming to himself.

"A news conference in an hour...and lunch with Head of Magical Law Enforcement Squad..." He flipped the page over. "Quite an eventful day we've got ahead of us, lads."

"Sir, will we be accompanying you to the news conference?" asked Percy. He hated new conferences--all those reporters and camera flashes made him nervous.

"I know you don't like them, Percival," said the Minster, as if reading his mind. "So you may stay. I'll take Wyatt with me."

"Thank you, sir," said Percy gratefully, as Wyatt rushed off to prepare the notes for the conference.

"You may sort through some of this mail," said the Minister, indicating the pile of unopened envelopes stacked on the edge of his desk. "Try to answer them as best as you can. If they're invitations, see if they'll fit into my agenda. If not, send them an owl of apology. Just remember to leave my Friday evenings free," he said with a wink.

"Yes, sir," said Percy, grabbing as many envelopes as he could carry and dumping them onto his desk in the adjacent room. He closed the door and began sifting through them.

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Oliver spent another sleepless night in his hotel room, which he was really beginning to hate. Luxurious as it was, it just felt lonely to him. He longed for a cozy home of his own, thinking wistfully of Percy's apartment and the soft pillows that smelled of comfort and dreams. At seven in the morning, after finally falling asleep for a few hours, he awoke again. Deciding that it was probably pointless to try and go back to sleep, he went into the enormous bathroom and began filling up the Jacuzzi bath. He poured in a bottle of citrus scented bubble bath and clambered into the large tub. He slid into the water, leaving only his head above the soothing water. The bath, however, did nothing to stop the thoughts that had tortured him all night.

Ever since Friday, he had been thinking about Percy.

He had not really been as drunk as Percy had thought--it had mostly been acting. But that didn't explain his behavior afterward: asking to sleep in Percy's bed and kissing him. He had no idea what had possessed him to do that. Perhaps someone had slipped drugs into his drink? But then, how would he explain yesterday's outburst? He had yelled at Percy, pinned him against the wall, and kissed him. Again. For what reason though? Had he only been trying to make a point?

Well, whatever point it had been, it clearly hadn't been necessary to kiss him. Unless...unless he actually liked him?

No, thought Oliver to himself, that's not possible. I was just caught up in the moment, that's all. I was just being dramatic.

Percy Weasley. Good old Percy who was the best student in their year, prefect, and then later Head Boy. Percy with his flaming ginger hair to match a temper that few knew of, the thin wire-framed glasses that formed a barrier between the world and his bright blue eyes. Percy...

No, stop it, Oliver. You can't think of him like that. He's Percy. Your old classmate. Your friend.

"Aaargh!" Frustrated with the inability to control the flow of his own thoughts, he cried out, suddenly leaning backward and clunking the back of his head on the edge of his tub. Reeling from pain, he clutched at his head until the throbbing ebbed to a dull ache. The bath water had gone cold, so he stood up, dried himself off, and got dressed.

With nothing else to do, he ordered a breakfast of waffles and fruit, shoveled it down, and went outside. He walked along the streets, glad that he had remembered to wear his sunglasses to make it harder for passerby to recognize him. He wandered into a large bookstore and spent some time browsing the shelves. He had not read a single book since the textbooks back at Hogwarts (and even those he had hardly read), so he didn't even know where to start. Then he remembered Alice Newbury saying something about her novels. He couldn't remember their titles, so he sought help from one of the people who worked there.

"Oh, Alice Newbury," said the young woman, her face lighting up. "I just love her books. Follow me, I'll show you where they are."

She led him over to the bestsellers' shelf and handed him a copy of both books.

"I really liked the first one, Vanilla Girl," she said. "The way she writes...oh, everything just seems incredibly real."

"Thank you," he said, looking down at the books. He put one of the books back, deciding to read them one at a time. After paying for the book, he hopped onto a bus and began to read. He had not gotten very far in the first chapter when a young man about Percy's age and stature sat down beside him. The bus was rather crowded, and they bumped against each other each time the driver made a turn or a sudden stop. When the stranger got off, Oliver let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Now distracted, he decided to get off the bus.

He had the driver let him off at the next stop, and he stood looking around, the book tucked under his arm. He wasn't sure where he was. Then, he spotted it: the characteristic light blue of Percy's apartment building. Grinning at his luck, he crossed the street and began walking up the concrete stairs. However, by the time he reached Percy's apartment, his grin had faded. Today was Monday, which meant that Percy was at work still. It would be, at best, a few hours until Percy would come home.

Not being the type to be discouraged so easily, Oliver set out at an easy pace. He eventually found another bus which took him into the shopping district. Here, he purchased pajamas with little airplanes and cars on them, a toothbrush, a razor, a towel, and anything else he might need while spending the night at Percy's apartment. He did not want to impose on his friend's hospitality, so he bought everything he could think of, including a set of luggage to fit all these newly purchased belongings. His old set was getting pretty worn out anyway, and only consisted of a duffel bag and one suitcase, plus the case which held his prized broomstick. He bought new clothes too, and shoes, and then he bought himself a coffee and sat down, exhausted. After taking a few sips of his coffee, he realized that he hadn't bought a thing for Percy. What would Percy like anyway?

Oliver had always perceived him as a bookish sort of person who liked to spend time alone. And he was right. Percy rarely went out unless he had to, and spent much of his free time reading mystery books, which were his favorite. Oliver browsed through the book section, but he didn't know what Percy would want to read. Then he thought that perhaps it would be nice to buy him Alice Newbury's books, so he bought those too, along with a rather interesting book about the history of tea in Britain, and a box of Belgian chocolates.

Thus, weighed down by his purchases, he called a cab and went back to Percy's apartment. He knocked, but no one answered, so he sat on one of his new suitcases and leaned his head against the door. He was feeling rather tired, and a bit hungry too. His stomach growled loudly, and he decided to pacify it by eating a few of the chocolates. He would buy Percy a new box later. His fingers still sticky with chocolate, Oliver fell asleep.

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Percy had a rather unproductive day at the office. He was constantly pulled away from his work by annoying phone calls and thoughts of Oliver. The former he learned to ignore or direct to the Minister's secretary, but as for Oliver, he could not get him out of his head. He blushed furiously as he thought of Oliver's arm, strong from years of Quidditch, embracing his body.

"Not again," he moaned, putting his head down on the desk.

"Not again what?" said Wyatt, who came in carrying a stack of memos.

"Huh?" said Percy, immediately sitting up. "Oh, nothing. My, er, stomach has been acting up."

"Oh," said Wyatt, "perhaps it's all the coffee you've been drinking today. I'd say you've had at least four cups since I came back from this morning's press conference. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Yes," said Percy. "Well, no. Maybe I'm coming down with something. Maybe I'm sick."

Yeah, lovesick. Wait, lovesick? It's not Oliver...it can't be Oliver. Oliver's a...man. And I'm a man. It can't be him...but then why did he kiss me?

"Percy?" said Wyatt, waving a hand in front of his face. "You don't look well."

"I don't feel quite well either," he said.

"Maybe you should head home," suggested Wyatt. "I'll take care of things."

"Are you sure?" said Percy. "There are an awful lot of memos to look through."

"I'll be fine," he said. "You go on. I hope you feel better."

Gratefully, Percy packed up his things and left the office. He wanted to Apparate home, but found it impossible, due to the fact that each time he tried to imagine his front doorstep, all he could see in his head was Oliver's face. Sighing, he went to the bus stop and waited. Wearily, he took the lift and dug the key out from inside the pocket of his robes. He walked down the hall to his apartment, and stopped in mid stride.

There was someone already there, slumped against the door. The person did not seem to be moving. Cautiously, Percy edged closer, and he could see that the person was quite familiar.

"Oliver?" he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Hmm?" mumbled Oliver, stirring from his sleep. "Oh, Perce, you're back."

"Why are you here?" demanded Percy.

"I came to visit," said Oliver, standing up and stretching. "I've been waiting for hours."

"Visit," repeated Percy. "The last two times you 'visited' did not end well. I don't see why this time it should be different."

"Geez, Perce, is that how you treat all your friends?" said Oliver, picking up the box of chocolates. "Here, have one. They're quite good. I meant to give the whole box to you, but I got hungry and had a few."

"Oliver, I don't want your chocolates," said Percy, stubbornly. "Now get out of the way so I can unlock the door."

Obediently, Oliver moved aside. He knew that Percy was planning to shut the door as quickly as possible, so he stuck his foot out.

"Oliver, get your foot out of the door," said Percy, not even looking at him.

He inched forward more so that his body was sandwiched between the wall and the door. Sighing, Percy left the door open and went inside. Giving a silent yell of victory, Oliver dragged his newly acquired bags inside, setting them in a corner so they would be out of the way. Percy went into his bedroom and came out a minute later in pajamas and a bathrobe. He began taking things out of the refrigerator, humming to himself and completely ignoring Oliver.

Unperturbed, Oliver unzipped his bags and began carrying his things into Percy's bedroom. By the time Percy had finished cooking dinner, most of Oliver's clothes were hanging inside the wardrobe.

"Perce?" came Oliver's voice. "Where can I put my socks and things? There isn't much space in your drawer."

"You can put them in the--wait a second," said Percy, whirling around. "Space in my drawer? What are you doing looking in my drawer?" Angrily, Percy stalked into the bedroom and found Oliver standing in front of the wardrobe, looking quite satisfied. "What is all this stuff?" said Percy.

"My clothes," replied Oliver calmly. "As I was saying, there's no space--"

"There isn't supposed to be space!" yelled Percy, completely losing it. "This is my apartment. I don't know who you think you are, walking in here like it's your own place, putting your clothes in my closet..." He trailed off, glaring at Oliver, who, to his credit, was keeping a straight face.

"Well," said Oliver, "I didn't know it was a criminal offense for an old friend--whom you haven't seen in years, I might add--to spend a couple nights over at your house."

"But that's just it!" said Percy, frustrated. "I haven't talked to you since we were at Hogwarts, and even then we barely said anything to each other. I might as well pluck a random person off the street and ask them to live with me."

"Three nights, Perce, that's all I ask. Just three nights," bargained Oliver. "I'm leaving Friday morning anyway."

"That's four nights," said Percy. "And no. Absolutely not."

"What is it about me that you find so objectionable?" asked Oliver.

"I...you..." He couldn't manage to force words past his lips. Finally, he crossed his arms and said, "Four nights. That's it."

"YES!" shouted Oliver triumphantly.

"And mind you, this isn't a hotel. I expect you to pick up after yourself," continued Percy, but Oliver had stopped listening and was now giving him a bear hug. Percy pried his arms off. "Dinner's getting cold," he said.