In A Time Of Uncertainty

Part Two, Chapter Three

Oliver,

Fred gave me your message. My schedule is open, so I can meet you at whatever time you arrange.

Percy

Percy,

Today, two o'clock, the Leaky Cauldron.

Oliver

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After half an hour of muffled sobs, Ginny had come back downstairs. From his bedroom window, Percy could see her de-gnoming the garden. She hurled each gnome particularly hard.

Percy looked in the mirror one more time. He was wearing dark green robes, now three years old but seldom worn. They had been a gift from Penelope.

He'd noticed her for the first time in fourth-year Transfiguration. She'd sat in front of him, her curtain of long coiled hair brushing the top of his desk. He'd spent the year watching it, one part of his brain listening to Professor McGonagall while the other stared absorbed in the wonder of each curly strand.

On the first day of fifth year, Penelope had turned up again in Potions. At the first Inter-House Prefects' Meeting, she'd arrived a minute late, slipping in the back and taking the seat next to Percy.

They'd been assigned to decorate the third-floor south corridor together at Christmas. Both competitive by nature, they'd come to the mutual decision that their corridor would far surpass the others. He held the tinsel while she, not trusting her wand to achieve precision, stood on the ladder and hung it.

Both were pleased by what they could accomplish together, and they teamed up again after the holidays, becoming partners in Potions. But the relationship had remained strictly business until the day she tripped on the table leg and spilled Dissolving Solution down the front of his robes.

As Snape screamed about irresponsibility and half-witted students who should never be allowed within thirty feet of a cauldron, the solution started burning holes into the fabric. Penelope looked at the patches of exposed chest and blushed.

He'd written to her nearly every day in the summer, and they'd gone into their sixth year far closer than before. He was giddy around her, giddy and relaxed for the first time he could remember. She was energized with a zest he had never encountered before. The same things that frustrated him made her laugh, a breathy giggle that caused his head to spin.

They were in different houses, and their classes and meetings together gave them no time to be alone. When she suggested that they meet in the Charms classroom at night he nodded, unable to speak.

The first night he found her there, she grabbed him and pressed him against the wall, her hips pressed lightly against his, just enough to make him gasp. He'd plunged his fingers into her hair as she kissed him.

Paying attention in classes became more difficult every day. A part of him always remained in the dark of the empty classroom, sliding his hands down her body as she moaned.

"Penny," he'd whispered one night. They were in the Charms classroom, sprawled across a pile of cushions they had found in the back. She was playing with the buttons on his robe. "Penny, there's something I should have told you a long time ago."

"Hmm?" Her eyes were still fixed on his throat.

He took a deep breath and said, for the first time, what he'd known since he was thirteen years old. "Penny, I'm bisexual."

Her fingers traced the edge of his ear. "All right."

Her acceptance unlocked a door in his mind, and for the first time he did not try to push away the dreams that came to him. His days held a sloping waist, soft breasts, tendrils of hair against a long neck. His nights were filled with strong backs, taut nipples, deep laughter and hard muscle.

When they returned for their final year at Hogwarts, he knew that he needed her. During the hot nights in Egypt he hadn't slept well, and had spent hours sitting in bed and longing to explore every inch of her skin. He arrived at school with condoms in his trunk; and if she did end up pregnant, it would be all right because he loved her and she loved children and he wanted to marry her right after graduation anyway. They would be all right. The would start an enormous family like his parents had done, only Percy would make far more money than his father ever had and give his children the best of everything.

The first time was in the prefects' lounge, on a sheet spread over the couch. The second was in his dormitory; they'd snuck away from a Quidditch match.

And then the classes got more intense than ever before, and the prospect of ten N.E.W.T.s seemed daunting. For the first time Percy began to wonder what would happen if he didn't get into the Ministry. Fear of failure overrode desire, and soon a late night in the library became far more crucial than walking Penelope to the Ravenclaw tower. His irritations ran at an all-time high. Before long Penelope's laugh was an annoyance, her devotion overbearing, her energy unrealistic. She was one of two children, the daughter of a Gringotts executive; money had never entered her mind. His longing for her diminished, and he found himself making excuse after excuse.

And then he began to notice Oliver: five foot eleven inches of sweet, friendly, burly Scottish manhood.

"Penny, this isn't - "

"I know," she said softly.

"I did love you."

"I know, Perce." She embraced him, and it was finished.

He was seventeen, single, curious, and horny.

Oliver had seemed like a fantasy personified: interested, willing to please, caring. But he, like Penelope, was second to a career, and careers at the Ministry did not include same-sex lovers.

Not that they had been lovers, exactly; their physical relationship had basically amounted to Oliver wanking Percy until he came. Percy never reciprocated.

He sighed, adjusted his glasses, and disapparated.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Oliver was sitting at the end of the bar, taking long swigs of butterbeer. He was in Muggle clothes, black jeans and a white t-shirt. Percy slowly approached him.

Oliver gulped the last of the bottle and set it down hard. "We aren't staying," he said. "I need to speak to you in private."