In A Time Of Uncertainty

Marauder

Story Summary:
They once longed for each other years ago, but neither was ready to face his feelings. Now Voldemort has returned, Oliver is recruiting wizards to fight against him, and Percy is estranged from his family. Hesitant and apprehensive, they decide to try to be a couple.

Chapter 18

Chapter Summary:
Percy's first day back at work is miserable...until he gets two unexpected birthday presents.
Posted:
10/27/2003
Hits:
1,265
Author's Note:
All right, all right, they're back together! Call off your dogs! Stop the advancing mob! I told you I'd get them back together by Part Two, Chapter Nine and I did.

Part Two, Chapter Nine

As Percy got ready for work the next morning, it seemed that everything that could go wrong, did. His mother was upset because Ron seemed to have taken up temporary residence at Order headquarters; Percy avoided her eyes, knowing full well that he was the sole reason for his brother's decision. Hermes bumped into the floo powder jar and it smashed on the floor, which meant that Ginny had to walk the two miles to the Lovegoods' to use their fireplace. Percy realized that none of his better robes were ironed, so he was forced to borrow one of his father's. Bill turned up wanting to borrow a broomstick. All the eggs were gone and so was the orange juice.

Things at work weren't much better.

Someone had let a swarm of pixies loose inside the Ministry; the majority had been captured by the use of a Freezing Charm but a few had escaped and were hiding in tiny spaces, darting out on occasion to wreak havoc.

"D'you suppose the Death Eaters let them in?" asked a very young and wide-eyed witch in the lift. Percy guessed she was a recent Hogwarts graduate.

"If it was, then they're losing their touch," he said.

He reported to Fudge's office as soon as possible. The Minister, though a bit pale and sporting reddened eyes, seemed to have regained his usual sense of self-importance. "Weasley, I've got a meeting in ten minutes, and I'll need you to take notes," he barked the second Percy approached him. "You have until then to move back into your office."

Contrary to Percy's dream, Alexandra Whitmoth didn't seem to have changed a thing. His desk stood where it always had, and his Hogwarts diploma still hung on the wall. He unpacked his briefcase quickly and hurried back to Fudge's office.

"Damned glad you came back," the Minister grumbled as Percy sat down. "Whitmoth was acceptable, but Stellington had to train her in." Grace Stellington had replaced Delores Umbridge as Senior Undersecretary.

Percy poured himself a cup of coffee. "After this you have one hour to get your files," said Fudge in an urgent whisper. "Then I have a conference."

There was a brisk knock at the door; immediately, Fudge's shoulders sagged. "Yes, come in," he said, his tone so deferential it was almost submissive.

"Hello, Cornelius, would you like a scone?"

In the doorway stood Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. Dumbledore had a pleasant smile on his face; he was wearing a navy blue robe that was lavishly embroidered with crimson thread. His face was somewhat more lined but his eyes were as lively as ever. McGonagall too appeared unchanged; she looked a bit cross, the way she did when someone from Gryffindor had been incredibly foolish and lost the house an enormous amount of points. Her fingers gripped the tray of scones.

"Fudge, your Ministry is infested with pixies," she said crisply.

"Yes, a bit of a mishap," Fudge mumbled. "Most of them removed - culprit unknown - "

"There are at least three dozen of them flying through the corridor on Interdepartmental memos."

"Three dozen!" Fudge exclaimed. His eyes were so wide that he reminded Percy of a house-elf. "Merlin's beard, we disposed of them all except the last ten or so!"

"Perhaps they've reproduced," said Dumbledore solemnly. As McGonagall sighed and Fudge muttered, he turned to Percy and winked.

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

As the clock outside his office chimed six, Percy shoved the last of his things into a desk drawer and groaned. His head was throbbing. His hand ached. He was tired, exasperated, and ready to scream. "I did not get ten N.E.W.T.s so I could be at the beck and call of a stubborn git in a bowler hat," he said aloud.

"Stressful day?"

Percy looked up and his jaw nearly fell to the floor.

Oliver was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame on one raised arm. He was dressed all in black Muggle clothes - a tight black t-shirt (Percy could see the outlines of his nipples), heavy boots, a pair of jeans that hugged his hips. His smile was easy and relaxed.

Turn around so I can see how those jeans cling to your arse

, Percy thought.

"Terrible day," was what he actually said. "It sounds all impressive on paper: Junior Assistant to the Minister." He snorted. "'Junior Assistant' translates into 'glorified secretary'. Do you know what I did all day? I took notes at meetings. Except for one hour when I ran through the Hall of International Personal Files like a madman."

Oliver took his arm off the doorframe and walked inside the office. "I'm sorry," he said. "It sounds boring as hell."

Percy looked up at him. "Yeah. And I can't quit, either, because of the files."

Oliver rested a hand on his shoulder. "You could transfer back to International Magical Cooperation," he suggested.

Percy ran a hand through his hair. "I just might."

"Are you too tired to go to Edinburgh? Because I want you to get a lot of rest."

"You sound like my mum."

"Not so much that you go mad, just enough. So?"

I want to tackle you to the floor and listen to you moan.

"No, I'm all right. Edinburgh."

As they walked down the corridor, Percy kept venting his frustrations. "I spent three hours taking notes at Fudge's meeting with Dumbledore and McGonagall. You'd think a meeting about a war against a Dark Lord would be interesting, right? No. Three hours devoted to Security Charms and where they should be placed. And after I got the files - " they were currently in his briefcase " - Fudge spent the rest of the day in a conference with about a dozen foreign ministers, only seven of which spoke English. Do you know how many languages I speak?"

"One."

"One."

They reached the lift and Percy pressed the button. "I'll be glad to get my mind off things," he said.

"We'll go to dinner first," Oliver replied as the door opened. "Some trashy Muggle place where you don't have to worry about table manners."

The lift was empty; they stepped inside and pressed a second button. "A lot of the shops will be closed, but that's all right," continued Oliver as the door closed. "We can come back over the weekend." The lift began to ascend. "There's an enormous hill near the university called Arthur's Seat, if you want we can apparate to the top and then after - "

There was a great shriek of metal against metal, and the lift came to a complete stop. The doors remained shut. Percy and Oliver slowly turned and looked at each other.

"I think it's gotten stuck," Percy said. "Although I can't imagine why - "

"Listen, what's that noise?"

Percy stood still and listened hard. "I don't hear anything."

"It's gone now, try again."

And then he heard it - an incoherent series of high-pitched yet muffled shrieks.

"It's the bloody pixies," he moaned. "Some idiot let them lose this morning and now they've gotten into the lift system." He jabbed the bright fuchsia emergency button and spoke into the series of small holes next to it. "This is Percy Weasley, I'm stuck in a lift with a friend of mine."

"Assistance will arrive as soon as possible," said an unfailingly calm female voice.

He sank to his knees and then sat on the floor of the lift. "I have the day from hell and now this happens."

"How long do you think it will take them to get us out?" asked Oliver, sitting next to him.

"I'm not sure. It depends on what exactly the pixies did to the gears."

"Can't we apparate?"

"No, it doesn't work in the lifts." Suddenly he became aware of the fact that he was alone in a lift with Oliver, isolated from the outside world. He licked his lips uneasily.

The jabbering of the pixies stopped and there was silence.

"Of course this would happen when I have a headache," said Percy, leaning his head back against the wall. "Whoever let those goddamned pixies in ought to be beaten with thorns."

"Not to be too dramatic or anything," added Oliver. Percy turned towards him and saw that he was smiling.

"Shut up."

Oliver reached over and rumpled Percy's hair.

"Stop it!"

"Oh come on, it looks cute." He twisted a curl around his finger.

"Oliver, I'm warning you - "

"Glad you stopped slicking it down, it looked awful."

Percy tried to pull Oliver's hand off, but Oliver resisted. "Honestly, Ol, get off - "

"Do you really want me to?"

Percy's hand slipped off of Oliver's arm.

Oliver leaned over and kissed him.

It was a light kiss at first, their lips barely touching. Cautiously, Percy rested one hand on Oliver's shoulder; Oliver responded by darting his tongue in and out of Percy's mouth. Percy whimpered.

Oliver pulled away slowly. "Liked that?"

Percy nodded, his breathing heavy.

"Want more?"

He closed his eyes. "Please."

Before he knew it, he was being lifted onto Oliver's lap, his legs draped over Oliver's thigh. He slipped a hand under the black t-shirt and brushed his fingers over one firm nipple.

"Keep doing that," Oliver murmured, nibbling up and down Percy's ear.

"Ol, my neck - "

Oliver lowered his head and bit hard over the largest vein. Percy nearly screamed.

"We ought to have you out of there in the next few minutes," called a voice from above. "The pixies stuck rocks in the gears."

"Thank you!" Oliver responded before he plunged his tongue down Percy's throat.

Percy's hands ran frantically over Oliver's chest; he was desperate for more heat, more skin, more Oliver. A low groan rose from deep within him. He pulled his mouth away from Oliver's and rested his flushed cheek on the other young man's shoulder. Oliver's arms wrapped around him and squeezed.

"Ol," Percy gasped, "fuck me, please fuck me..." The phrasing was vulgar but in his highly aroused state he had lost his inhibitions.

"That's not a good idea, Perce," Oliver whispered.

"I want you - I want you so much - "

"Don't think I'm not tempted." Oliver began to rub Percy's back. "But think a minute. We're in a lift - a lift at your work - we've just barely gotten back together, and there are repair wizards right over our heads. Plus we haven't got any lubricant," he added.

As Percy's blood slowed he realized the logic in Oliver's words. Of course they couldn't, not now and not here.

But oh, how he wished they could.

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

Five minutes later the lift began to rise. Percy stood up, picked up his briefcase, and yawned.

"Go home and get some sleep, we'll got to Edinburgh tomorrow. I haven't got Quidditch practice, so I'd thought Recruitment could meet from nine until two."

"I've got work."

"Yeah, your schedule looks like it's going to be a bit of a problem. I'll try to work it out for you."

The lift stopped; Percy yawned once more as the door opened. The corridor was empty.

"Oh, I brought you a birthday present," said Oliver as they walked out. He took a small rectangular package from his back pocket and handed it to Percy. "You aren't allowed to open it until I've disapparated, okay?"

Percy nodded. Oliver's lips caressed his temple. "See you tomorrow, beautiful."

"See you tomorrow."

Crack

.

Percy turned over the package in his hand and began to strip the paper. When he finished, he stared, incredulous.

Oliver had given him his copy of The Emerald Cloak.


Author notes: Next chapter: Percy realizes it's going to be impossible for him to hide his feelings...the closet door bursts open at the Weasley dinner table.