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Oliver threw himself onto his four-poster bed with a gusty sigh. Percy frowned and tucked his bookmark into the book that he had been perusing — some light, extracurricular History of Magic reading.
"Is something the matter, Oliver?" He tried to imagine what might be bothering the other boy. "Did, er, did Quidditch practice go poorly?"
"No," Oliver mumbled, and for a moment, Percy wasn't sure if he was going to elaborate. "McGonagall's just informed me that if I don't start getting higher marks in Astronomy, I'll be kicked off the team."
Percy straightened slightly and set his book aside. Oliver's problem was only tangentially related to Quidditch, and it was something that he, Percy, could help with. Astronomy was mostly rote memorisation, so it was simply a matter of learning — and repeating — mnemonics to retain the necessary information. Percy had many tips and tricks that he was happy to share with Oliver, if only because he didn't want to see the other boy lose something that he was so passionate about.
There wasn't anything more to it than that, he told himself. Oliver was his roommate, and he wanted to see him succeed.
"I'll tutor you," he said. "Let me grab my Astronomy notes and we can begin straightaway."
He could practically see the relief wash over Oliver's face. "You would do that for me?"
Percy nodded. In truth, he would do just about anything for Oliver, but he wasn't about to say that out loud. He was just awkward, swotty Percy Weasley — there was no way Oliver would do the same for him.
"I'm never going to remember all of the names of Jupiter's moons," Oliver moaned a short while later, bringing his head down onto the common room table that he and Percy had commandeered for themselves. The surface of the table was covered in Percy's notes, diagrams, and charts.
"You can't think like that," Percy said firmly. "You're very smart, Oliver. I know you can do this."
Oliver lifted his head to stare at him. Percy found his gaze unnerving, but he forced himself to look back into Oliver's eyes.
"You think I'm smart?" Oliver said, his voice suddenly quiet.
Percy felt his cheeks flood with heat. For someone who prized logic and reason, he certainly knew how to give away his emotions.
"Well, yes." He cleared his throat. "Er, think of all of the plays that you come up with for Quidditch matches. That takes brains."
"Percy Weasley, have you actually been listening to me when I talk about Quidditch?" Oliver's grin made Percy's heart flutter.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Percy replied. Cheeks flaming, he directed his attention towards a piece of parchment with a diagram of Jupiter's moons to avoid looking at Oliver.
A soft pressure on his wrist made him realise that Oliver had grabbed him — was touching him — and he suddenly forgot how to breathe. In some twisted way, the method of repetition that he had been trying to teach his roommate was now a cacophonous refrain in his own head: Oliver Wood was touching him. Oliver Wood was touching him.
"You don't have to be embarrassed, Percy," Oliver said softly. "I—I've noticed the way you look at me..."
Percy stood abruptly, yanking his arm from Oliver's grasp. This was humiliating. He was going to have to switch houses or schools to avoid seeing Oliver ever again—
Before he could burst into tears in front of the boy that he was finally realising he fancied, Percy fled to the nearest sanctuary, his dormitory.
The problem with hiding out in his dormitory, Percy soon realised, was that it was Oliver's dormitory, too. A knock at the door only minutes after he had crawled under his bed covers made him stifle a groan.
"Percy?" Oliver sounded awkward, unsure, and those weren't things that Percy ever associated with him. "I'm sorry if I—look, this would be a lot easier if I could just come in and we could...talk?"
Percy sighed. He didn't want to talk to Oliver, but he knew that he was going to have to, sooner or later. He at least owed him an explanation for running away from their study session. After sitting up and blotting away his tears, he told his roommate to come inside.
It seemed to take an eternity for the door to open but then Oliver was there, filling the room with his broad shoulders and restless energy. He flashed Percy a quick smile before crossing to Percy's bed, settling onto the edge of it.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Percy didn't mind the silence, though. It felt comfortable, somehow. That probably had something to do with the fact that Oliver made him feel comfortable, too. In hindsight, it was remarkably obvious that he would fall for his roommate. Oliver had never made fun of him for studying hard, or for not being interested in sports. He was also unwaveringly supportive of Percy's goals and ambitions, even if he didn't share them himself. Oliver seemed to understand him better than anyone else ever had.
It hurt, then, knowing that he had probably lost Oliver as a friend forever. Percy gulped and tried to maintain his newly-resurrected composure.
"So, Oliver...you wanted to talk?"
At first, Percy denied that he had given Oliver any sort of look beyond that of a very good friend. But then the mattress shifted and Oliver leaned in close, and something seemed to shift inside of Percy, too.
"I—fine," he admitted, staring down at Oliver's fingers, which were splayed out on his bed covers. "I suppose I might have — unconsciously, mind you — started thinking of you differently."
"How so?" Only Oliver's eyes betrayed his urgency — his voice was steady, calm.
"Well, er…" Percy knew that he was blushing again and was powerless to stop it. "As...more than a friend?"
He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for a laugh or a noise of disgust. When Oliver made neither of those sounds, Percy slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head to find that the other boy had moved even closer, filling his nostrils with the scent of broom polish. He swallowed hard and tried not to stare at Oliver's lips, now inches from his own.
"You know, for someone so smart, you can be awfully thick sometimes," Oliver murmured, shaking his head.
Indignation swelled in Percy's chest, and he angled himself away from Oliver so as to shoot him a proper glare. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I like you too, you prat," Oliver said with a grin. "As more than a friend, I mean."
It wasn't often that Percy found himself lost for words, but this was one such occasion. Instead of replying, he took a deep breath and pitched forward, accidentally bumping Oliver's nose with his own because he didn't think to tilt his head.
"Sorry," he mumbled, inwardly cursing himself for fumbling the kiss. "I think I ought to take off my glasses, actually..."
A moment later, Oliver had removed his glasses. Percy blinked and squinted until the other boy came into focus, then leaned forward again. This time, his lips met Oliver's and he wondered if kissing always felt this right.
He supposed he would have plenty of time to find out.