In A Time Of Uncertainty

Part Three, Chapter Five

Somehow Oliver knew that Remus would wash their clothes then, rather than wait until the morning. He climbed out of bed and picked up the dressing gown from the floor. He felt like a blasphemer staying in this house, wearing this dressing gown, sleeping in this bed. It was clear to him now that he should not have come to Grimmauld Place that night. Oliver had always been a believer in privacy, and to him it seemed that he had violated it - and not only privacy but grief, which can be the ultimate personal state.

But if he were to be dressed he had no choice but to wear the dressing gown again. He slipped it on, slowly. Despite what Percy thought, the smell was not overpowering. It was subtle, as few things that night had been. Once he was dressed Oliver opened the door and waited for Remus.

He arrived several minutes later, with a neat stack of clothes in his arms. "Oliver, go to bed!" In that moment he was Professor Lupin again. "It must be nearly - "

"Could you wait here for a second?" Oliver asked. Ignoring Remus's puzzled look he took the clothes from him. "Just one minute - "

Once he had closed the door Oliver undressed slowly and dressed quickly, throwing on his own clothes the way he did when Quidditch practice ran late and he needed to be on time for an appointment. After this he folded the dressing gown and carried it almost gently to the door.

Remus had waited. Feeling almost unbearably awkward, Oliver held out the dressing gown to him. "Thank you," he said softly. "It's - " And then his breath died in his throat and he did not continue.

He felt one of Remus's hands brush his as the other man took the garment from him.

"He would have liked you," Remus whispered.

Oliver embraced him; if he had intruded, he would amend.

A few seconds passed before Oliver felt a pair of long-fingered hands rest lightly on his back. "Now get to bed," he heard Remus say; his tone was not unkind. "Before Percy wakes up and realizes you're gone."

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

When Oliver woke he did not know if it was day or night; the room had no windows and was completely dark. He got out of bed and fumbled for a light, but did not find one. Perhaps the house, in its age, had never been wired for electricity. Back under the blankets it was wonderfully warm. Percy was sleeping soundly, he breathing as even as the ticking of a clock. Oliver wondered if he was dreaming, and what images his mind held.

Oliver had dreamed of Sirius Black, a man he had never met.

He placed one hand on Percy's head and allowed his fingers to intertwine with the soft hair. Try as he might, he could never get enough of Percy's hair. Beautiful. Percy's entire body was gorgeous, especially after they had made love. Then he was trembling, fragile, flushed, glowing from a light sheen of perspiration, his eyelids lowered to display curly eyelashes resting on his freckled cheek.

As slowly and tenderly as he could, Oliver encircled his arms around Percy's waist and spooned up against him. Under the coarse hair and warm skin of Percy's chest he could feel his lover's heart, another rhythm to accompany his breath. In and out. Oliver wished that the rest of their life could be as steady and comforting as this.

"Ol..."

"I'm here, Perce. Just sleep."

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

"Oy, Wood, wake up!" There was a battering of frenzied fists on the door.

"Tell whoever that is to sod off," Percy mumbled.

"Breakfast is ready and there's news!"

"What time is it?" Oliver called.

"Seven o'clock. Now get up!"

"Who in the hell is that?" Percy shouted.

"It's Celestina Warbeck," answered the speaker in a falsetto. "Who d'you think it is? It's Dung, you git!"

Bleary-eyed and irritable, Percy and Oliver got up and opened the door to find a very cheerful-looking Mundungus leaning against the opposite wall. "Got great news," he said, smiling in a very self-satisfied way. "Guess."

"Someone's finally told Fudge that his green bowler hat makes him look like an overgrown leprechaun," Percy ventured.

"Ha. No."

They stared expectantly. He grinned. "Guess again."

"Dung, we got about five hours or less of sleep last night - "

"Sapphira Whosit's had the kittens."

"Oh? That's good," said Oliver, mildly interested. "Now I believe I hear the pillow calling out to me."

"Wait a minute," said Percy. "If you know about the kittens, does that mean Mrs. Figg is speaking to you again?"

"She 'ad to," answered Mundungus. "See, Figgy's female cats are all spayed, so she's never had one give birth before. And the posh Muggle woman who owns Whosit panicked. So, seeing as I used to breed Crups, Figgy figured I'd know something so she sent for me to come over there."

Oliver bit his lip, trying not to smile. "I bet the posh Muggle woman just adored you."

"Stupid old cow. So, there are two Tibbles Juniors and three Whosit Juniors. Old Tibbles will be right proud when he sees them."

"I read once that tomcats sometimes eat kittens," said Percy.

Mundungus scowled. "Oh, there you are. That's nice. Poor little beast's just become a dad and you go an' accuse him of cannibalism."

A yawn escaped from Oliver's mouth. "Did you say something about breakfast?"

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

In the kitchen Remus was stirring porridge; Oliver's wand lay on the table. "Don't misplace it again," said Remus, barely looking up from the pot. "You should never be without it." Oliver nodded.

Mundungus had taken a seat and extracted a small bottle from one of the many pockets in his overcoat. "So," he said, after taking a long swig, "What time is this meeting s'pposed to start?"

"A quarter to eight." A flick from Remus's wand extinguished the stove. "Is Arabella coming?"

"How should I know?" Mundungus kicked off his boots and set his feet up on the table. "She don't tell me a thing, just yells for me to do this or that."

"I didn't know there was a meeting," Oliver said.

"The owls were sent out late last night," said Remus as he rummaged through a drawer for spoons. "The entire Order is supposed to attend if they possibly can. Mundungus, could you please keep your feet on the floor?"

Mundungus obliged. "Don't s'ppose you would've liked me doing that at your place, eh, Wood?"

Percy spoke before Oliver could. "We would have taken you in but - "

Mundungus held up one hand. "Fine, I understand. If a bloke as nice as Remus won't let me move in, then you two prats can't be blamed." He winked and stuck the cork back in his bottle. "Found a place, though. Took me a long time. Guess where."

They glared.

"Just joking, just joking. I'm staying at the Burrow."

"You're not," said Percy, his eyes wide.

"I am. Told your mum I'd get rid of the ghoul in the attic if she let me stay."

Remus stopped ladling porridge. "You can perform a Banishment Curse?"

"No."

Remus rolled his eyes and set four bowls of porridge on the table. "Eat up, we've got about forty minutes before the meeting starts."

"I ought to get dressed," said Percy, pushing back his chair and standing up. "Can I use the shower upstairs? My hair must look like crap."

Remus smiled and said that Percy was welcome to the shower.

Once Percy had left, Remus sat down between Mundungus and Oliver. "Fudge knows about this meeting; all Ministry employees in the Order have the day off. Do you have practice today, Oliver?"

He shook his head. "We always get a day off after matches."

"You never told me how it went."

"We won."

"He intercepted fifteen goals," said Mundungus. "It was in the paper this morning."

"Impressive." Remus looked thoughtful. "This meeting might be quite long - then again, it could be over in two hours."

As he finished speaking the door on the opposite side of the room opened. "Are there any strawberries left?"

Oliver looked up and froze.

"No, I finished them off at dinner last night."

"Oh." The figure at the door's eyes landed on Oliver. "Hello."

"Hello, Ron."

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

The last time Oliver had seen Ron was at the Quidditch World Cup, for mere seconds. His body was doing what Percy's had done at that age - reached its full height and began to look less gangly. Ron sat in the place where Percy had been seconds before and reached for the porridge. "Please tell me it's not true."

Oliver's stomach leapt. "Tell you what's not true?"

"That you and Percy are working for the same department," said Ron casually, blowing on the top of the porridge to cool it off. "Because honestly, mate, I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

I am a Gryffindor

, Oliver thought, I am a Gryffindor - "No, it's true. We're both working for the Recruitment Department."

"Hard luck." Ron ate a bit of porridge. "This is good," he said to Remus.

"Thank you." Remus looked as though he was about to be ill - his face had gone very white and his forehead was creased.

"Did you make any coffee?"

"No, we're out of that as well. I thought I'd go shopping later in the day."

"Ron," said Oliver hastily, "there's something we need to talk about." Percy was not there and he would defend him in his absence.

"Hmm?" Ron set down his spoon, put his elbow on the table, and rested his head in his hand. "Oh, I heard about the match, congratulations - "

"Ron." How did a person begin a conversation like this? "Percy's changed a lot since he came home."

"Since Mum dragged him home, you mean." Ron snorted with contempt. "Typical Perce, won't even admit - "

"Ron." It was Remus who spoke this time. "I think Oliver would appreciate it if you would let him finish."

Oliver swallowed. "He's changed," he said. "More than I ever hoped he would." His own voice seemed as though it was very far away. "He's joined the Order and done a lot of things that I consider to be very courageous. I know you won't want to hear this but he's your brother and his business is yours." Oh God. "Ron, I'm in love with Percy. And he's in love with me."

Ron laughed - it was a high, shaky, breathy sound. "What?"

"I love him."

"You - you - " Ron's voice was shallow and sounded almost as though someone was choking him. "Don't tell me you fell for that."

"I didn't fall for anything."

"He's - you - Penelope - can't - you - "

"Ron - "

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Ron screamed. His eyes were wide; his back was rigid. "THIS IS PERCY WE'RE TALKING ABOUT! PERCY! ARE YOU STUPID? HE'S - AND HE'S NOT GAY EITHER, HE'S MANIPULATING - "

"Wood's telling the truth, Ron," said Mundungus softly.

"You - I - " Ron shoved his chair into the back of the wall and began to run from the room. As he opened the door and attempted to leave he fell to the floor; he had collided with Percy, who was standing in the corridor.

Percy dropped to his knees and placed his hands on Ron's shoulders. Like Remus, he was pallid. "Listen to me, Ron."

"I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOU! YOU CAN'T ORDER ME AROUND ANYMORE, YOU CAN'T KEEP RUINING OUR LIVES - "

Percy shook him gently; tears were beginning to slide down Ron's cheeks. "You may never believe that I've changed, and honestly, I wouldn't blame you."

Ron pulled away and lay sobbing on the floor. It was terrible to watch, and impossible - Oliver had never seen Ron cry, had never seen him show any feeling beyond happiness and anger. It was unreal.

"You can call me anything you like," said Percy softly. "You can never speak to me for the rest of your life. I hope you don't do either of those things. But there's one thing I won't allow you to do. You will never insult Oliver again."

The room became nearly silent, the only noise coming from Ron as he struggled for breath. As Oliver watched, Percy laid one hand on his brother's back.