Heads and Tails

It was early Friday morning when Professor Flitwick announced to the Ravenclaws that classes had been cancelled. Penelope and her friends were thrilled, and had gathered in the common room to chat. One of the prefects brought strawberry tarts and butterbeer from the kitchens. Kaylin, Penelope's best friend, had gotten the latest issue of Muggle Boys vs. Wizards, and a bunch of girls had gathered around her.

"Tell me this bloke isn't gorgeous," Kaylin said to Penelope. "Brad Pitt, what a hot name!"

"I like him better," Penelope said, pointing at the picture of a boy about eighteen years old. "He looks a lot like Oliver Wood."

"Sean Biggerstaff? I don't think so," argued Veronica Blanchard, who had fancied Oliver for quite some time. "Wood isn't that skinny."

"Move to the wizard photos, Penny," Kaylin said. "I want to see if Gilderoy Lockhart is there!"

"Honestly, what a bunch of bollocks," said Liz Mayton, a small brunette whom Penelope only knew because they shared the same room. She was reading a small, thick, black book. "Lockhart couldn't smile his way out of a paper bag. I'm surprised Lucius Malfoy isn't number one on that list. I melt every time he comes to the board meetings."

"Malfoy?" Kaylin asked, disgusted. "But he's so old!"

"He is not," Liz said snippily. "He's only five years older than Professor Snape, and we know how much you fancy Professor Snape, Kaylin."

Penelope cleared her throat. "What are you reading, Liz?" she asked in hopes to change the conversation.

"The Hobbit," she answered, glaring a bit at Kaylin. "It's by J.R.R. Tolkien. You know the ex-Minister of Magic."

"I hear it's a fabulous book," Veronica added, eyeing Sean Biggerstaff's picture hungrily.

Penelope examined the book; it had a funny picture of a red dragon on the front, and runes underneath it. "Are those Elfish runes?" she asked curiously.

Liz looked surprised. "No, actually they're Dwarfish runes." She handed the book to Penelope for a closer look. "Tolkien contributed two books to the Ministry: Corks and Swords: The Writing of Dwarves, and Legolas's Runes: Magical Runes of the Elves."

"Legolas? Isn't that one of the characters of his books?" Candy asked. Penelope's hearing, however, had stopped as soon as Liz had said, "Magical Runes of the Elves."

"Where would I find Tolkien's books?" Penelope asked.

"Flourish and Blott's should have copies," Liz replied. "Maybe even the library here. He's quite famous, you know." She took back her book. "Though the copies he contributed to the Ministry you won't be able to get."

"What? Why not?" Penelope asked, trying not to look disappointed.

"There is only one extra copy of each book. The original versions are safely guarded by the Ministry, and the copies are somewhere in the Muggle world, I reckon."

Penelope was not happy at all.

*~*~*

"I don't think we should go meet Flint," Oliver said, as he and Percy prepared for the trip to Hogsmeade. "He'll probably ambush us, take our underwear, and leave us freezing our privates off." Percy gave him a strange look. "It happened to a cousin of mine, don't laugh."

"I'm going," Percy said, pulling on his boots. "You can stay at The Three Broomsticks, and wait for me." He shook his head, and reached for a pair of Wellingtons instead.

"And leave you alone? Never!" Oliver exclaimed, reaching for his cloak. "Is Clearwater joining us?"

"You shouldn't call her Clearwater. She doesn't call you Wood, does she?" Percy said, giving himself a quick glance in the mirror ("You look marvellous, dear."). He winked at it, and addressed Oliver. "Penelope said she'd meet us at Honeydukes."

Oliver picked up an oddly-shaped wrapped parcel from his bed. "Someone sent me this," he commented casually, "but I'm not quite sure who."

Absentmindedly, Percy reached for his jumper (maroon with a golden P on it). "Really? No note or anything?" He threw the jumper back into his trunk, choosing instead a plain gray one. "A letter from one of your many admirers?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Oliver frowned. "They don't send me gifts; they just stalk me in the hallways." He looked up and down at Percy's clothes. "You're one to talk, anyway. Getting dressed up for a date you haven't mentioned?"

Percy felt the famous Weasley blush creep to the tips of his ears. "It's not a crime to look nice," he snapped. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Oliver snickered and followed him out of their dormitory. "You know, I heard Alisa Kings, that porn witch, made the top ten models of Feisty Witch."

*~*~*

Hogsmeade was full of Hogwarts students when Percy and Oliver passed by The Three Broomsticks. Most of them were couples more interested in snogging than enjoying the town. The others were small groups of friends daring each other to go up to the Shrieking Shack.

"I heard it used to be a sort of small house for Godric Gryffindor's wives," Percy said, nodding his head at the abandoned house. "Protected with only a password he knew." They stopped and stared as two Hufflepuffs pushed their friend up the slope. "Older villagers say the ghosts are really the women Gryffindor treated badly," added Percy, as they continued to Honeydukes.

"Gryffindor had all the fun," a new voice sneered. Marcus was leaning against the wall of the Post Office. He was draped in loose navy robes and looked like he had swallowed a glassful of dragon drool.

"Thought you were going to meet us at Zonko's," Percy said.

"I was, but I ran into Clearwater," said Marcus as Penelope came out of the Post Office, holding a parcel and a letter.

Percy's first thought was that she looked a lot like that model (Alison Burquette? Was that the witch that did the Chocolate Frog ads? Oh, well, someone like that.) in Bill's Feisty Witch magazines. Which he had looked at by mistake. He had thought they were copies of Charlie's Dragons and How Not to Get Eaten. While usually full of bollocks, Charlie's magazines did have some good facts. Percy cleared his thoughts quickly as Penelope gave him a small smile.

"This is for you," she said to Marcus, handing him the letter. "The owl flew in just as I was leaving. Lucky your name was written in gold ink. I wouldn't have noticed it otherwise."

Marcus took it, and started walking to the more private paths of Hogsmeade.

"Most people say hi, you know," Oliver said, prodding Marcus with his finger, "but you just stand and glare. How you got voted 'Most Attractive Slytherin' is beyond me." He grinned evilly. "Especially with those teeth."

Marcus flushed and scowled at him. Percy cleared his throat uncomfortably. Penelope glanced at her watch. They had arrived at an isolated path. Their quest had barely begun, and already Oliver and Marcus were ready to fight.

"We're not here to argue," reminded Percy, putting on the face that would serve him well when he became a prefect (which had taken many hours in front of a rather negative mirror to perfect). "Flint, were you supposed to tell us something?"

Marcus shot a scathing look at Oliver. "I asked my grandmother to send me her copy of Elfish Runes, and here is her letter. So if you would keep Wood on a leash, I'll be thrilled to read it to you."

"Ha, ha," said Oliver sarcastically. "We should set you on a bloody leash! If we didn't, you'd probably back-stab us, you two-timing dog."

"Boys!" warned Penelope. "Let's get to the point." She opened her parcel, and gave a squeal when she spotted the candy and books.

Percy looked at the books, interested, while Marcus read his letter to the three of them:

My dear Marcus,

As disappointed I am to hear that you need my book to help you with your Elfish Runes (something you should have known since you were six!), I am sorry to say the book is no longer in my possession. I donated it long ago to your school. I suggest you ask that charming librarian of yours for it.

Â

I expect you at Christmas,

Your Grandmother

"Your family knows the Elfish language?" asked Penelope, as Oliver said, "Madam Pince, a charming librarian?"

"The Flint bloodline has long been connected with the great rulers of the Elfish," Marcus said indignantly. "A Flint should always know how to speak and write Elfish. Quoth my Elfish great-grandfather Julius."

Oliver snickered. "Who volunteers to ask our 'charming librarian' for the book?"

"That must be the book that's already checked out," Penelope said, shaking her head. "Has anyone heard of J.R.R. Tolkien?"

Immediately the three boys turned to look at her. "Of course!" exclaimed Percy. "Only the best writer in the whole history of magic."

"Great lover of Quidditch, too. Dedicated the 'Tolkien Field' to his wife," added Oliver. "Bless him."

"Only your kind wouldn't know about Tolkien, Clearwater," Marcus said. "I suggest you pick up a good history book sometime. Thought you Ravenclaws spent all your free time with your noses in books."

"We do not," Penelope said defensively. "Then your kind, Marcus Flint, surely must have heard of Legolas's Runes: Magical Runes of the Elves." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

"Doesn't ring a bell," said Oliver. The other two boys agreed with him.

"Figures," Penelope thought huffily. "It's a book by Tolkien on Elfish Runes," she announced to the boys. "Liz Mayton told me so. Unfortunately for us, one copy is in the Ministry's hands, and the other one lost in the Muggle world."

Oliver mumbled something that sounded like "sodding Muggles."

"I'll ask my family if they have a book on Elfish Runes," Percy said, trying to drone out Oliver's rants. "My dad has a lot of stuff stashed in the attic."

Marcus was about to make a comment about Percy's family, but he really couldn't come up with something that would actually hurt.

"I'm going home for Christmas next week," Penelope said, looking upset. "Won't be of much use then."

"You're not of much use now, Clearwater," Marcus remarked, earning a glare from Percy. "I'm also heading home. I might be able to sneak a book off my uncles." He raised an eyebrow at Percy and Oliver. "How about you two? Staying or leaving?"

"Leaving," answered Percy. "Bill and Charlie will be coming home for Christmas."

"Not quite sure," said Oliver glumly. "Depends whether or not my dad is coming home."

Percy patted Oliver's shoulder comfortingly. He knew how Oliver's aunt preferred him staying at Hogwarts while Mr. Wood was off in the United States on business. "You can come to the Burrow if you like," he offered. "You know Mum has a soft spot for you. Plus, you can meet Charlie."

Oliver's eyes glazed over as if Percy had just announced he had been accepted to England's Quidditch team. "Thanks, Perce, I'll owl and ask."

"As mushy as the moment is getting," interrupted Marcus, "I need to get back to my friends." He picked a lollipop from Penelope's parcel. "Inform me if anything comes up," he called over his shoulder, as he walked back toward The Three Broomsticks.

"What book did you get?" asked Percy, sitting next to Penelope on a bench outside the tavern.

Penelope smiled radiantly. "It's a collection of Greek myths and legends," she explained, taking it out of the parcel.

Oliver rolled his eyes and decided going to Hog's Head would be more interesting than watching these two beat around the bush. Muttering a quick goodbye to both of them, he started down the path humming a Quidditch song. "And we'll root root root for the See-" Oliver stopped as he noticed Marcus enter Hog's Head with Raquel Loise, who was whispering something in his ear. Oliver knew Hogwarts preferred that the students didn't go to Hog's Head, it not being very warm to children, but he had always loved their butterbeer. Seeing Marcus Flint go inside, though, was something quite unexpected. Oliver wrapped his cloak tighter against his body, and followed the couple.

*~*~*

Hog's Head was full of fourth-year Slytherins. Raquel and Marcus gathered chairs near the table by the fireplace. Gareth, Raquel's brother, had gotten his hands on some Kork's Ever Alcoholic Ice Mice, and most of the Slytherins were already tipsy.

"Issh thisssh good or what?" Trenton Avery, Marcus' roommate, said, grinning.

Raquel smiled and tapped her turquoise fingernails against her glass. "Trenton, you idiot, if Snape finds out you're wasted..." She was cut off as Marcus laughed.

"Live a li'l, Raquel," he said. "We've gotten passs Shnape before." Trenton grinned, high-fiving the other boys at the table.

"I'm pretty sure Snape knows we come here, anyway," added Madeleyne Tinar. She popped another Alcoholic Ice Mouse into her mouth, not quite drunk yet. "I heard he caught two prefects once coming back drunk. Apparently, he just warned them not to appear like that to breakfast."

Marcus took a quick sip of his drink. No one was quite sure what it was, but it was yellow with a green Slytherin umbrella. "One wonders if Snape even watches over us, like Heads of House are suppose to do." He took another sip. "I'd bet he doesn't give a damn if the women end up pregnant and the men drunk."

"Yes, well, I'd rather not be pregnant," Raquel said, as the others exchanged curious glances. "Speaking of which, have you all heard the rumours?"

"Which ones?" Madeleyne asked with a laugh. "If you mean the one about Clearwater and Jones eloping before Christmas, I've heard it."

"No, I mean the one -" Raquel glanced around the pub uncomfortably. "The one about Harry Potter coming to Hogwarts next year."

"Harry Potter?" Gunther asked, raising his voice a little.

"I thought he was dead," Trenton said, dislike in his voice. "Something about being dropped after his parents were found dead."

"Where did you hear this?" Marcus asked Raquel.

"I overheard McGonagall. She was saying 'Heavens! Potter's already ten? He'll be here next year. Gryffindor, I reckon.' I mean, how many Potters can there be?" Raquel glanced at her friends.

"Gryffindor?" said Marcus, looking doubtful. "I mean he was just a baby when he brought down You-Know-Who. It sounds like Slytherin to me."

"My family won't be too happy if he does end up in Slytherin," Madeleyne said, signalling for another round of drinks. "His name is always being cursed by my father."

"Bugger them," Trenton said. "Imagine us working along the famous Harry Potter. It'd be a win up to power."

"I'm not playing servant to any bratty eleven-year-old," snapped Marcus.

"I wonder where he has been staying all this time," wondered Raquel. "Perhaps with some long-distance family?"

"Maybe he'll go into Durmstrang, instead," Gunther said. "I mean if he's really a dark wizard, I hear that's the place to learn dark arts and stuff."

"They're all a bunch of Death Eater wannabes," Marcus and Trenton said simultaneously.

"Gentlemen," Madeleyne said softly. "It seems we've got a Gryffindor spy." She inclined her head towards a table in the shadows. Marcus recognized Oliver's brown hair.

"Gryffindor git," Gunther muttered. "I thought good boys stayed at The Three Broomsticks."

"Wood's no good boy. Especially not in a broom closet," Raquel said under her breath, receiving curious stares from Madeleyne and Marcus.

"One of us could just throw him out," Trenton said, though his statement was directed at Marcus.

Marcus scowled. "I'm not your hit man, Avery. Go do it yourself."

"Really, I heard you were quite smitten with Wood, Flint. Maybe you could go flatter him back to Hogwarts?"

"Smitten will not be a word you'll use when I'm done with you!"

"Try it. Don't be an idiot. We all know you can't tell the difference between a wand and a quill."

"Boys!" Raquel snapped. "Would you two please stop your bickering? If it's any help, Wood just left."

Marcus and Trenton scowled at each other. Raquel sighed. This would be a long evening.

*~*~*

Percy was delighted to see that Errol was waiting for him when he arrived at Hogwarts. Attached to Errol's leg was a small box containing fudge, and a pink letter, which he assumed was from Ginny. It ranted on about how Ron had somehow turned her beautiful hair into a dreadful shade of lime green with their dad's wand. A few sentences said how Mum missed him, and Dad was busy with work. Percy found the postscript, in Ron's handwriting, quite amusing, something about there being an attack of spiders in his room.

The door opened, causing Percy to turn around, surprised.

"Hola!" Oliver said, jumping onto his bed, and rummaging underneath it. "How was your date with Clearwater?"

"It wasn't a date!" hissed Percy, blushing again. "What have you got there?"

"Feisty Witch!" exclaimed Thomas Perry, one of their roommates. "Is that the latest copy, Oliver?"

"Who's got Feisty Witch?" asked Timothy, Thomas's twin brother.

"Oh, wow," exclaimed Thomas, as he scanned through the pages. "This is the latest copy!"

"Oliver, put that away," Percy said. "It goes against school regulations. What if McGonagall catches you with it?"

"It's not like she's going to barge into our room, Perce," Oliver said, pulling out some sweets as well. "Come and look at this month's Ms Feisty!"

"I'd really rather not."

"Always figured you were a pouf, Perce," Timothy said. "Don't worry, we won't hold it against you."

"I am not gay!" Percy said indignantly.

"It doesn't matter if you are," Timothy went on. "Our sis could get you an issue of Large Wizard if you like."

"Oliver, would you please tell them I'm not gay," Percy pleaded.

"He's not," Oliver said, his eyes not leaving the magazine. "He just likes Clearwater, so he doesn't want to compromise to other, er, ladies."

"Clearwater?" Thomas asked, looking surprised.

"Which one?" added Timothy. "Helen is really nice. A bit bossy, though. And she is Head Girl." He winked at Percy.

"She's taken, though," Thomas reminded them. "You know, that Ravenclaw chap."

"I do not like Helen," Percy stammered.

"Ah, so it's the younger one," said Timothy, with a wide grin. "Penelope seems like a sweet darling. Typical Ravenclaw, though, nose always in a book."

"Oh, leave the poor bloke alone," Oliver said, looking at Percy. "He can fancy whoever he likes." He tossed the magazine to Thomas. "Even if it means he doesn't appreciate the fine bodies of many, many lovely witches."

Timothy patted Percy firmly on the back. "Don't worry, mate, you'll hook up with Penelope eventually."

Percy sighed. They would never forget this.

*~*~*

Dear Oliver,

I arrived home from Austria this weekend. Your aunt and I have decided to have Christmas here at the house. I can't wait for you to join us! I have many tales to tell you, plus I've brought some gifts.

Say hello to the Weasleys.

Dad

Every single letter Oliver ever received from his family was very short, usually no longer than three sentences. If they were from his aunt, only a few words would decorate the parchment. "How are you?" and "Behave" were her greetings of choice. His father, on the other hand, usually expressed the point of the mail, elaborated a bit on his recent trip, and always had a brief salutation to Percy and his family. His father loved Percy. "That boy will go places," was what he always said. Oliver agreed with his father. Percy would go places. Percy would work for the Ministry, perhaps even one day become Minister of Magic. Percy was brilliant. Studious, smart, followed the rules, girls loved him. Oliver suspected that was the reason they were good friends; they were nothing alike. While Oliver enjoyed the outdoors, a good broom, and flying, Percy preferred the library, his homework, and a copy of One Thousand Rules of Hogwarts: The Guide to Becoming Head Boy. They were like water and oil, but they got along just fine. Or at least since their second year, they did.

Oliver remembered how their friendship had started. Potions, Percy's worst subject, was held in one of the coldest dungeons. They were researching a bone-eliminating punch, used mostly in the Dark Arts. A gruesome potion, once taken it broke bones until the one who took it just became some sort of rubber body. If one took too much of the potion, it was possible for the victim to die. The same effect could be achieved with a spell, but the potion was more effective. It could be fixed with a simple medical potion, but one ingredient, barley root, was extremely difficult to find since it has to be plucked during a full moon after a light drizzle. Percy had been teamed up with Rebecca, who was a klutz in Snape's class. Oliver, who much to his dislike had been partnered with Joanna, was the only one to notice when Rebecca accidentally dropped the whole vial of bone-eliminating punch onto Percy's leg. Percy let out a shriek, and stood so fast his cauldron tipped over. Rebecca, who had started to panic, started screaming for Snape.

"Back away, girl," Snape told Rebecca hastily, waving his wand at Percy and muttering something. "Wood! Take Weasley to the infirmary!"

Oliver couldn't move. He stood, shocked, with the rest of the class. Boils had started spreading across Percy's leg. Tears were sliding down his face, and he looked ready to faint. Something told Oliver the potion was quick.

"Hurry!" Snape said. "Tell Madam Pomfrey I'll be there in a minute." Oliver helped Percy out of the classroom. "As for you, Ms. Clark, fifty points from Gryffindor, and you will stay to clean up this mess," Snape roared at Rebecca, who had also started to cry.

Percy to the infirmary was difficult. Whatever spell Snape had used was starting to wear off, and Percy's bones were slowly breaking away again. It was almost impossible to drag him up the stairs. When they had finally reached the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey set Percy on the table ("Whatever could Severus have been thinking. Using such potions on second-years!"), used a variety of freezing and stopping spells on him, and called both Snape and Dumbledore.

She had been quite frantic when she announced, "Mr. Weasley had lost half of his leg bones, and the potion is making its way towards the upper part of his body." Both men nodded solemnly. Oliver strained to hear them, while Percy, exhausted, was sleeping. "We need to fully stop the potion before I can give him something to grow back the bones."

"Don't you have anything, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked. "Surely there's some antidote around here."

"We have never needed an antidote!" Pomfrey shrieked slightly. "I feel terrible for not being stocked for anything."

"Can't you make something, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape nodded. "Yes, but I'll need those Barley roots. You know they must be fresh."

"Full moon is in a week's time," Pomfrey said, glancing briefly at her calendar. "Will Weasley be all right until then?"

"He'll need a freezing spell every hour or so," Snape said. "Nothing will happen to the boy, if you keep him on freezing spells. The only way to die is if his spinal cords dissolve, then his organs will be in trouble. I could ask Sybil Trelawney if she has the roots. I doubt it, though."

"Go now," Dumbledore ordered. He waited until Snape left before saying, "I shall ask the Potions teacher at Durmstrang if they have the antidote. I will also have to inform Arthur and Molly of this." He looked uncomfortably at Percy's limp form before noticing Oliver's presence. "Mr. Wood! I was not aware you were here."

Oliver blushed. "Sorry, Headmaster," he muttered, "but I wanted to make sure Percy was all right. He won't die, will he?"

"No, he will not," Pomfrey said huffily. "Now, I suggest you leave. Mr. Weasley needs his rest."

Dumbledore smiled. "Poppy, I'm sure Mr. Wood will be happy to help you use freezing charms on Mr. Weasley." He waited for Oliver to nod, which he did. "You do know how to perform one?"

"Yes, Professor," Oliver said.

"Very well. After classes you should stop by. Mr. Weasley will enjoy the company."

After lessons, Oliver came to visit Percy. They noticed that despite their different lifestyles at Hogwarts, they both had things in common, like their curiosity and love of adventure. Snape successfully found the roots by the end of the first week and spent most mornings and nights preparing the potion. By the second week, Percy's left arm and the both legs had become rubbery blobs. Madam Pomfrey was afraid the bones in his face would also break, causing him to have no skull to hold his brain. It might even be deadly. The third week, Snape finished the potion. Oliver and Percy were thrilled. After a night's rest, Madam Pomfrey gave him something ghastly to re-grow his bones.

From then on, Oliver and Percy were best friends. They got on each other's nerves every so often, but it seemed more like a game to them.

Oliver's attention drifted back to his father's letter. He would be spending Christmas at his house. That was something unexpected. Most Christmases his father was travelling somewhere like Venezuela or Australia. Oliver loved his aunt, but she drank a bit too much for his liking. This Christmas would be different. He would have fun, his dad would play Quidditch with him, and his aunt would make her delicious pumpkin pie.

Oliver, however, was not a very positive person, at least not when it came to his family. If the coin fell on tails, the part he dreaded, he could always spend his holidays at the Weasleys'.