In A Time Of Uncertainty

Part Four, Chapter Ten

" - and that's the eighth goal intercepted by Wood, he's showing stellar concentration and reflexes, let's hope he'll return to the game after his extended leave of absence - "

"Damn, it's leaked out," Percy groaned. "The public wasn't supposed to know that."

"Pretty soon it won't matter," said Ian.

" - Pritchard sends the Quaffle into Holyhead territory, where it's caught by Rold, Rold of Holyhead - she passes to Jones-Bardford, Jones-Barford throws it to Cassidy - she dives - Taris of Puddlemere is right on her tail, will Taris catch it, she's inches away - and Cassidy completes the pass."

The Puddlemere side of the stadium booed.

"Cassidy's racing toward the Puddlemere goal post, Jackson sends a Bludger her way - she dodges, the Bludger is seized by Holyhead's Sarah Thriston, Thriston smacks it right at Wood - "

"Come on, Ol," moaned Oliver's parents in unison.

"Wood ducks, the Bludger flies through the goal post, will the Quaffle follow, Cassidy throws - AND DOUGLAS HAS SPOTTED THE SNITCH, HE'S IN HOT PURSUIT, WITH FOX FOLLOWING AT TOP SPEED - the Quaffle's been intercepted, that's number nine for Oliver Wood, he throws to Meritt, Douglas flies inches from Meritt's face, still after the Snitch, Meritt grabs for the Quaffle - it's taken from under his nose by Rold - Douglas and Fox are flying parallel, the odds are fifty-fifty, the Snitch bolts to the right - Rold throws, Wood lunges - DOUGLAS IS NEARLY THERE, IT'S SKIMMING THE TIPS OF HIS FINGERS, ANY SECOND - DOUGLAS CATCHES THE SNITCH!"

The Quaffle shot past the top of Oliver's head and through the goal, but Puddlemere had already won and the goal was void. "TWO HUNDRED AND TEN TO FORTY!" Michael hollered. "PUDDLEMERE! THAT'S MY BOY!"

"Your boy too," Ian whispered, nudging Percy in the ribs. Anne overheard and smiled.

Oliver was drifting down onto the pitch, his eyes searching for the four in the stands. "OL!" Percy yelled, waving his arms. Oliver spotted him and waved back, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Well," said Anne, slightly choked with tears, "it was a wonderful note to end on."

"Will he be able to go back, when whatever-it-is is over?" Ian asked. "I know you can't really tell me, but - "

"At this point, it's anyone's guess," Anne replied. "I hope so."

Percy, beaming, barely heard her. For the first time that he could remember, another person's accomplishment made him as proud as he would have been had the victory been his own. He smiled as Oliver landed on the pitch and headed for the locker room.

"I'm going to wait at the locker room door," Percy said.

Ian laughed. "Quidditch groupie."

"Shut up, Ian." Not a bad bloke, Ian McTavish. Not a bad bloke at all.

There were quite a few people, witches mostly, trying to get to the door leading to the team's private corridor. A thickly-built guard held them all a wand's length away. He was called Tobias; Percy had met him a few hours earlier when Oliver had shown him around the stadium. "Excuse me...excuse me..." Several of the witches had very thick make-up and were aggressively pushing each other as they tried to be the closest to Tobias. Most ignored Percy.

Fortunately, a few years of social climbing had taught Percy how to cut through a crowd. He reached Tobias having suffered only a crushed foot and a shove to the back. "Hello, I'm Percy. We were introduced earlier."

Tobias thought for a second. "Wood's bloke, right?"

Percy grinned. "That's right."

"Miss, you can't - one second, mate - miss, I'm sorry, you can't go in there." The offending witch gave Tobias a very nasty look and walked away on sharp blue heels. "Sorry about that."

"That's all right."

"Go on through."

"Thank you."

The throng became even louder as Percy passed Tobias and started down the corridor.

Steam floated through the open door of the men's locker room. Percy leaned back against the wall and waited. Victorious voices bounced off the walls and to Percy's straining ears; he could not hear Oliver's among them. A young woman in purple trousers came down the corridor and leaned against the opposite wall, the one that held the door to the women's locker room. Upon seeing Percy she tilted her blond head back and winked.

"Waiting for your - " she winked again " - friend?"

"Yes." The woman had a fearless look in her eye that Percy envied.

"Yeah, me too. Barringer."

"Wood."

She laughed. "Must be a Keeper thing. Hey, yours did really great. He's sort of like a human fortress."

"Thank you. Barringer was excellent. It's too bad about the Bludger she took to her back."

The woman shrugged. "She'll be all right. Just means I have to stay up massaging tonight. Those Holyhead Beaters are a force to be reckoned with."

A moment later Barringer came out of the women's locker room, her hair still wet and making dark patches on the shoulders of her robe. She smiled briefly at the woman and said hello.

"Ready, Eliza?"

They walked down the corridor together, the woman in purple trousers sliding a hand into Barringer's pocket. Percy rested against the stone wall and closed his eyes.

"Hey. You must be the redhead."

The voice that had spoken was rough and contemptuous, containing an arrogance that could not be denied. Percy opened his eyes to see a large man in gray robes standing a few feet away, just outside the locker room door. His brown hair was cut very short and he stood with his shoulders thrown back, a challenge. "Am I right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Percy honestly. The world was full of redheads.

The man laughed. "Oh, that's great. Wood goes out of his way to defend you and you won't even - Christ, I almost feel sorry for the bastard."

After a second of thought Percy understood. "If you were asking am I Oliver Wood's boyfriend," he said, pushing his back against the wall so that he moved away from it and no longer leaned, "I am. I don't think we have anything to say to each other."

"Oh, you don't? He didn't tell me you were such a little prig. Doubt he notices when you're screaming and clawing at his back."

"Go to hell, Jackson."

Oliver had finally emerged from the locker room, to Percy's relief; to his discomfort, Oliver looked more than ready to pound Jackson into a bloody pulp. "Go shag five girls in a row or whatever it is you do after matches." He stared directly into Jackson's eyes. "It hasn't changed anything, has it."

"Some Gryffindor you are, Wood," Jackson sneered. "Everyone knows you're leaving because we know about your little piece of arse."

"Yeah, and everyone used to know that Voldemort was gone for good." Oliver walked up to Percy and took his hand. "Come on, I bet my parents and Ian are waiting for us."

"Yeah, and how is Ian, anyway?" Jackson asked. "Haven't seen him in a while." He shot a patronizing look in Percy's direction; Oliver yanked Percy by the arm and led him down a different corridor and to a staircase.

"Ignore him," Oliver said, taking the stairs two at a time with a very brisk pace. "He's disturbed."

"Oliver, I can't just ignore people when they insult you, and insult me, and what about - " his voice dropped to a whisper as they reached the landing " - what about after the war, if you want to go back to Puddlemere and he's still there?"

"He only said all those things because he knows I'm leaving the team," said Oliver. "Believe me, once I'm back Reginald Jackson isn't going to say a single thing."

"He had better not, because if he - " Percy paused, his hand resting on the railing. "Ol. Please tell me he's not - "

Oliver rested a hand on Percy's shoulder and nodded.

"HIM?!" Percy yelped. "He's Reginald? The Reginald? Reginald of the porn shop and wanking in back alleys?"

"Is there anything else you'd like to say so that I'll feel like crap, Perce?"

"I'm sorry," said Percy miserably. "Really, Ol, I'm sorry. But God, you and Jackson..." The mere thought of Oliver, his Oliver, writhing in excitement against that son of a bitch's hand, made him feel like he was going to vomit.

"Percy, I know you're in there, now stop being weird."

"I think I'm very well within my rights to be weird," said Percy, who, an hour later, was hiding in a toilet stall at the Mystical Pomegranate, the restaurant Oliver's parents had taken Oliver, Ian, and himself to for dinner.

"You're being rude to my parents, and I know you don't want that. Come on."

"I can't. I think I'm going to be sick."

He heard a thud, which he was pretty sure came from Oliver slamming a hand against the wall. "Okay, when I was eighteen he seemed like a rather alluring bit of rough trade. Obviously, things have changed." The tone of his voice became soft. "You know we belong to each other, beautiful. You can't punish me for something that happened years ago."

"I'm not punishing you," Percy insisted. "I told you, I think I'm going to throw up."

"Damn it, you are not going to throw up, and - what do I have to do? Really, Percy, tell me what I have to do, and I'll - "

An awful constricting feeling overcame his stomach and he lunged for the toilet bowl.

"You can get me a glass of water," he said when he'd finished.

"If you're going to be sick again," said Ron, inching away from Percy, "at least do it over the side of the boat.

"At least I don't belch up slugs," Percy said - a weak retort for a weak stomach. "How much longer have we got left?"

"About an hour, I think."

"Where's Oliver?"

"He's up on the top deck talking to some of the Aerial Branch. Did you know Angelina Johnson's going to be in it?"

"No," said Percy, who didn't much care. "If Ginny still has any of those tangerine hard candies, tell her I'd like one, please."

The roof of Topaz Sun was flat, and surrounded by a sort of fence. A person could get to it by climbing a ladder located in the upstairs passage; there were lounge chairs and a table. Percy stood by the fence and looked into the darkness at the waves roaring against the sand. "Yes, I think I'm all right now," he answered Oliver, who was sitting in one of the chairs.

"It's the stress," Oliver said consolingly. "Too much, and that was the thing that pushed you over."

"Probably." The breeze brushed against his skin. Somewhere in the distance a bird was crying.

"I suppose it would be stupid to dwell on it during one of our last nights together," he said. Stupid, too, to dwell on it when they were apart. It was a thing that had happened, and he and Oliver both wished that it hadn't - with all that was occuring around them there was no need to think of it again. Yet one small thing nagged at his mind.

"Do you like sex in semi-public places, then?" he asked.

"I don't know. We went to back alleys because he wouldn't come to my flat and the private rooms in the porn shop were for paying customers."

Being with Oliver, Percy thought, had allowed him to break what he had thought were steadfast rules. You will not sleep with a man. You will not cry in front of your family. It is important to show authority at all times.

The idea of adding You must never have sex outdoors to the list was making him achingly hard.

"Maybe we can try it when I come back home," he said, gazing up at the stars.

"Or maybe," said Oliver, "we can try it now."

Percy's eyes widened. "Oliver, Ron and Ginny's bedrooms are just below this roof!"

"So I'll press my hand over your mouth. You seemed to like that, remember?"

It was the wrong thing to say, or the right thing, depending on one's perspective.

"Just don't break this chair," Oliver moaned as Percy climbed into his lap.

"I'm going to do exactly what I want with you," Percy replied, whispering. "To hell with the chair."