Chapter Text
“Wood, Oliver.”
“Gryffindor!”
Oliver took his shaky legs over to the cheering table draped in red and gold, and quickly sat down. He was the last to be Sorted, so he barely had time to settle before the headmaster was saying some announcements about confiscated items and then some nonsense words that he supposed could have been magic but really sounded much too silly to be actual spells. After the excitement of dinner appearing and most everyone had eaten their fill of the feast, he finally pulled up the courage to speak to his fellow new classmates.
“Hello,” the boy said, pushing his glasses up his nose. He had a lot of freckles and very curly red hair.
“Hello,” Oliver said. “I’m Oliver. Wood. Oliver Wood.”
“I’m Percy Weasley,” the other introduced himself. “I’m—“ he was cut off by a much older boy with equally bright hair dropping into the seat next to him and grabbing him to ruffle his hair with great force. Oliver wasn’t an expert— he was an only child— but he was pretty sure it was a noogie. The younger redhead sputtered.
“Making friends already, Percy?” the older boy teased. “Going to abandon your poor older brothers now that you’re all grown up and a proper Hogwarts firstie now?”
“Bill— gerroff!” The boy— Percy— complained, voice muffled. “Go ‘way!” A hand came up to ineffectually pull at the older boy’s arm and then attempt to pinch at his face, which the older— Bill, Oliver supposed— deftly avoided with the ease of apparent experience.
Bill mock-gasped, hand coming up to cover his mouth, other arm still wrapped around his younger brother’s neck. “Oh, how it hurts! Betrayed! By my own brother! Oh, how will I ever recover.”
Percy managed to shove Bill off of him and glared, patting his hair back into place. He stopped to shove his glasses back up, scowling mightily. “I have four other brothers,” he said with great dignity. “You’re replaceable.”
Bill clutched his chest and slumped over, right back onto Percy, ignoring his splutters. “You’ve slain me dead, baby brother.” The splutters increased in volume. “What a cruel world I live in, to be forsaken by my closest kin.” He winked at Oliver.
Oliver stared.
“Well,” Bill said cheerfully. “My job here is done. Welcome to Gryffindor, Percy. Welcome to the house of lions, Wood.” He unfolded himself from on top of his brother and stood, straightening his robes. A small badge caught the light, an ornate letter P gleaming silver. “I’m Bill Weasley, one of the Gryffindor prefects. If you have any issues, questions, or just need a listening ear, feel free to come find me or one of the other prefects.” He tapped the badge demonstratively.
One last ruffle of Percy’s hair, a nod to Oliver, and Bill strode back up the table, greeting a few other students as he went. Oliver watched curiously as he stopped to poke another redhaired boy that looked a little older than Oliver and Percy (another brother?) only to get his hand slapped away.
A grumble brought Oliver’s attention back to Percy, who had apparently given up on his hair. The curls sprung in unruly directions, highlighting the murderous sulk on the boy’s face. “That was my brother. Bill.”
“He seems… nice?” Oliver said uncertainly.
“He’s awful, forget about him.” Percy paused and looked at Oliver speculatively. “Have you read through the book for Defense Against the Dark Arts yet?”
“Yes?” Oliver had been feeling incredibly off-balance the entire conversation.
Percy leaned forward, glasses glinting in the candlelight of the hall. “I think Bill just volunteered for a jellylegs jinx or two. Are you in?”
.
Turned out Bill had taught Percy most of the jinxes the redheaded first year knew, so their ambush on the Gryffindor prefect hadn’t quite gone as planned. Oliver couldn’t bring himself to care; his cheeks had begun to hurt from grinning so much by the time the two new “best friends obviously, Bill, are you sure I’m supposed to be the one that needs to wear glasses?” had settled into their new dorm room.
Hogwarts was going to be brilliant.