In A Time Of Uncertainty

Part Three, Chapter Four

Just as Oliver was about to ask if he should leave, a loud knocking sound echoed throughout the house. Remus stood.

"Either the Death Eaters have become very polite, or we have company," he said briskly. "Stay here." With that, he left the room.

Oliver felt his body freeze and constrict. It couldn't be the Death Eaters. Death Eaters would attack directly. Unless they thought the Order were so weak that they could be easily caught off guard...

My wand is in the bathroom

, he thought. It was possible he could dash for it, as long as -

"OLIVER WOOD!"

Percy burst into the room. Wet curls were plastered to his forehead; his glasses were rain-spattered. In three long strides he crossed the room and grabbed Oliver by the shoulders. "DO NOT PULL THIS CRAP ON ME AGAIN!" He shook him; startled, Oliver could not respond. "Do you know what it's like to wake up and not have any idea where your lover is?"

"I - I left you a note," Oliver stuttered.

"You left me a note saying that you'd be back by around one in the morning. You did not tell me where you were, you did not say why you had left - how could you be so goddamned stupid!?" His face was flushed; his eyes were bright. "I had to fly all around England and Scotland looking for you, I tried everywhere from Ian's house to the Puddlemere pitch to the Burrow to even the bloody Ministry. I didn't know if you'd been hurt or if the Order needed you or - AND WHY THE HELL ARE YOU NAKED EXCEPT FOR A DRESSING GOWN?"

"He flew here in the rain," said a quiet voice. Remus was standing in the doorway. "His clothes were soaked so I gave him something else to wear."

Percy's hands dropped from Oliver's shoulders. He looked at Remus and then away, his face a vivid shade of scarlet. "I - I didn't mean that - I - "

"That's all right," said Remus, his voice somewhere between exasperated and amused. "It sounds like you've had a very trying day."

"What, did Oliver come here to tell you I'm a complete nutter who screamed at his dad?"

"He came here because he's concerned about you," Remus said simply. "So far, he's told me about Mundungus Fletcher and not much else. And he's under no obligation to," he added quickly.

"He might as well go ahead," said Percy wearily.

Oliver hesitated. "Perce, let's go home."

"No, go on, go ahead. You've already gotten Lupin up - "

"I was awake when he arrived."

" - and if he's heard the first half, he might as well hear the rest."

Oliver sighed. "Basically, Percy got into an argument - "

"Screaming match."

" - argument with my father. Perce mentioned something about the Order and my dad said he didn't want to hear it."

"So then I started yelling that it was people like him who got us into the mess we're in now. Which is, of course, hypocritical of me seeing as I - "

"We're going home."

"We're not."

"We are."

"You're not."

Both of them looked at Remus, surprised. "You're not," he continued, "because it's just past midnight and I saw lightening a few seconds ago." He studied Percy for a moment. "You don't drink very often, do you."

"No," Percy snapped. "And I've only had one."

"Then it looks as though you're the type of person who shouldn't have any."

Percy turned towards Oliver. "I'm not drunk," he insisted. "Really, I'm not."

"No, but what you did have isn't helping you any." No wonder the Weasleys thought their relationship was rash. Practically everything Percy did was rash.

"You two can sleep in my room tonight," said Remus. "I'll take the davenport for the night."

Oliver was too tired to argue; he nodded. "Follow me, then," Remus said.

The stairs groaned as they proceeded upstairs, and one section of the banister was loose. Oliver speculated that if the house hadn't belonged to a pureblood family it would have come in contact with a wrecking ball long ago. On the second floor Remus led them down the corridor and opened the second door on the left.

It was a fairly small room. Next to the right wall was a double bed, very neatly made with a blue quilt. Two wardrobes stood against the left wall; between them was a door that led to a bathroom. There were no windows. The small bookcase was completely full and several stacks of books were piled beside it.

"You'll need something to wear to bed," said Remus to Percy. He opened the wardrobe on the left and took out a light green nightshirt. "Is this all right?"

"Yes, thank you."

"All right. If you leave your wet clothes outside the door I'll wash them for you. Good night." And with that Remus left the room, shutting the creaky door behind him.

Percy turned around slowly, taking in his surroundings. "You can tell it's his," he said. "Sort of worn out but neat at the same time."

Oliver sat down on the bed. "You need to get some sleep," he said softly.

Percy seemed to agree; he undressed quickly, put on the nightshirt, set his clothes outside the door, and turned off the light. In the darkness they pulled back the quilt and slid under the smooth sheets.

Oliver ran a hand through Percy's wet hair, feeling the faint heat of his lover's head under the cold curls. He rested the other hand on Percy's chest. "You've got to stop doing this sort of thing."

Percy opened his eyes. "What?"

"Getting emotional and starting your 'screaming matches', as you call them. Starting dramatic scenes and saying things you wish you hadn't. Look, love, I know you're going through a difficult time right now. Believe me, I know that. But you need to get some kind of control of yourself, for your own sake if not for anyone else's. You can't live your life like this."

Percy was silent for a moment, then rested his cheek against Oliver's arm. "I don't know what gets into me," he said. His voice was solemn and held no note of self-pity. "Sometimes I just lose all reason and - I'm sorry, Ol."

"I know you are, beautiful."

"Your dad had this sort of cold voice and suddenly I thought: His son could be dead tomorrow and here he is talking about Quidditch. It struck me as, as so absurd, and so meaningless, and before I knew it I was - that's not an excuse."

Oliver kissed his ear. "I'll help you, Perce," he murmured. "But you've got to be willing to help yourself. You've got a job, and a war, and a lover. If you want to do adult things you have to act like an adult."

"But you'll love me if I make mistakes." It was half a question.

"If I didn't I wouldn't be worthy of you."

Percy put his arms around Oliver and breathed deeply. "Love you."

"Love you too, Percy Ignatius."

"Oliver - what's you middle name?"

"Edward."

"Better than Ignatius."

"Infinitely better than Ignatius."

"Shut up. It was my mum's godfather's name."

"Poor bloke." After a second, Oliver realized something. "Did you say you flew here?"

"Yeah. I left my broom by the front door."

"You couldn't fly when we were in school."

Percy looked up and smiled. "Oh yes I could."

"What?"

"I lied."

"You lied!"

"Thought I'd ride tandem with you and get the chance to feel those muscles."

"Devious little sneak."

"It worked." He put both hands on Oliver's chest and squeezed.

Oliver pretended to be affronted. "Oh, I see," he said teasingly, "you only wanted my body. My brilliant mind meant nothing to you."

"Your brilliant mind meant everything to me." Percy nuzzled Oliver's neck. "Everything else was a nice bonus."

"Go to sleep, you git."

"Likewise."

They shifted about in the bed and closed their eyes. Percy was twitchier than usual; after five minutes he was still rolling over and kicking his legs. "Ol," he said at last, "can you do something about that dressing gown? The smell is driving me mad."

"I can't just take it off."

"Why not?"

"This isn't our bed."

"He'll probably change the sheets tomorrow anyway."

"Fine, then. But we're not making love in here."

"I didn't ask you to do that," said Percy. Oliver imagined that he was rolling his eyes. "Just get rid of that thing so I can get some rest."

Oliver undid the sash and pulled the dressing gown from his body. Too tired and careless to fold it, he flung it across the room. It hit the wall and slid to the floor.

"Thanks," Percy muttered. His voice was beginning to sound far away. "That thing smelled like a wet dog."

Within minutes he was asleep.