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Chapter 1: Ginny

Somehow, Ginny was the first to know.

She needed to speak to someone. Anyone. Ginny was barely holding it together after the latest attack. She was terrified of how her brothers would judge her, but she knew deep down that they would do whatever they could to help. Unfortunately the entire morning passed without seeing any of them.

It was only on her way from Charms to Potions that Ginny spotted Percy at the other end of a corridor, his red hair and height a dead giveaway. Quietly she slipped off from the group of first years that she had been walking with and followed him. However, when she turned the corner, he had vanished. In fact the corridor was deserted.

Maybe she was imagining things – perhaps another side effect of the diary. She was about to turn away when she heard voices from the closed classroom door beside her.

Cautiously, she pushed it open and was initially glad to see the familiar spark of red hair; she wasn’t entirely mad after all. But once her brain fully processed the scene before her, her mind broke to a halt.

Percy was not alone.

Oh no.

The captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team was the only other person in the room. Ginny vaguely recalled his name was Wood. Oscar? Owen? Whoever he is, he had Percy pressed against the wall, slightly obscured by the piles of unused desks.

Ginny however could not mistake the fact that they are engaged in a passionate kiss. She felt herself blush, but she could not look away.

“Oliver!”

Oh yes, Oliver! Although, hearing her brother moan it is not how she would have chosen to remember it.

“Percy!” she squealed in an undignified manner.

The boys sprung apart as if burned. Oliver Wood instinctively moved in front of Percy as if he considered Ginny a threat … well, he wouldn’t be entirely wrong, but he doesn’t know about the diary. Both boys are flushed and panting, but Ginny cannot mistake the fear on Percy’s face.

She rocked backwards on her heels and glanced at the door to check it had closed after her.

“Ginny, no!” Percy went quickly and was blocking the door before she realised that he’d moved.

“I was checking it was shut,” she replied carefully. She had never seen Percy so frazzled and it was unnerving.

“Look Ginny, you cannot tell anyone about this! Thank Merlin you weren’t a teacher. You can’t tell McGonagall or anyone. In fact, there’s nothing to tell, it wasn’t what it looked like!” Percy said this so quickly that Ginny could barely keep up. He then sent Oliver what could only be described as an apologetic glance.

Ginny just blinked and looked between them, “you were … kissing him.”

Percy bit his lip and blinked his eyes rapidly, “okay yes, it was what it looked like. But please, Ginny you cannot tell Fred and George. Or Ron. Please do not write to Mum or Dad. Or anyone! Please!”

“Is he your boyfriend? They would tease you, I suppose,” Ginny reasoned; she might only be eleven, but she was well aware how the twins treated Percy. Still, she had never known him to be scared of them and that was what she could see in his stark white face. It reflected what she saw in every mirror that she looked in recently.

“Yes, they would tease me Ginny, but it is more than that. No one can know. Not now, not ever! Do you understand?”

She frowned, “why not?”

Oliver had slowly moved across the room and was now standing beside them, “we’re both boys, Ginny. You know that isn’t what normally happens, right?”

Percy sent him a grateful glance, clearly unable to explain for once in his life.

Ginny knew she was still frowning as Oliver ploughed on, “you know how some people feel about Muggleborns? Well, some people feel the same way about boys who kiss other boys.”

Ginny felt herself go white at the mention of Muggleborns. She quickly focused on the second part of what Oliver Wood had said – she had never heard of boys kissing boys before. But it didn’t seem like something to be angry or afraid of. Then again, Muggleborns shouldn’t be that either.

“Important people – like those who are in charge of employment at the Ministry or recruiters for Quidditch teams, they might feel that way,” Oliver said and there was no hiding the sadness on his face. “We can’t risk anyone knowing if we want to get where we want in life.”

“Then why are you kissing?”

“We … we like each other,” Percy said in an unusually soft voice, sharing a glance with Oliver. “We just have to like each other in secret.”

Ginny tried to process this; she didn’t pretend to understand the complexities of a romantic relationship. Her crush on Harry Potter had never ventured into the realm of imaginary kissing. To kiss someone like that must mean her brother really liked Oliver Wood. Yet, they clearly were very serious that no one should know.

“I can’t even tell Mum?” Ginny asked.

Percy shook his head vehemently, “no one Ginny, promise me.”

Ginny nodded slowly, “okay. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Percy breathed a sigh of relief and reached out and squeezed Oliver’s hand.

“Thank you Ginny,” he said. “Now, you had better run on to class. I know first years do not have free periods.”

“Give her a break Perce, she’s had a bit of a shock,” Oliver shook his head, but it was in a fond manner, not the obnoxious manner in which the twins admonished Percy frequently. It made Ginny happy to realise that.

“I have Snape, so I probably should go,” she agreed and headed to the door. Just before she left, she paused, “I hope it won’t always be a secret. I want you to be happy Percy.”

Without waiting to see his reaction, she turned and fled from the room.

Years later, Ginny took great pleasure in editing the article (that accompanied a photo of Percy and Oliver publicly kissing for the first time, after the Scottish victory in the European Championship) in the sport’s section of the Daily Prophet so that it read “Breaking News: two people are happy and in love” instead of Romilda Vane’s “Is that a broomstick or is hunky Scottish Keeper just happy to see Weasley #3?”.   

However, on Oliver’s request, she did print one copy with the original headline as it made him and Percy laugh so much. Ginny just smiled at how far they had come from the two scared boys in an abandoned classroom.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Fred

The manner in which Fred found out about Oliver was extremely on brand for someone who loved to poke his nose in other people’s business. Especially someone who loved to poke his nose in Percy’s business; it was just too easy.

Percy and their dad were out at work and their mother had split Fred and George up to do separate chores in the wake of her discovery about the joke shop. One might have thought that a mother would be proud of such genius and creativity. Alas! Therefore, Fred was sulkily washing the dishes the Muggle way, whilst George cleaned out the chickens in the yard. Ron and Ginny were nowhere to be seen which was a good move on their part.

As he set an especially heavy saucepan in the sink and considered breaching the laws against underage magic, Fred noticed Hermes tapping the window. Sighing, he opened the latch and took the letter off the owl. He was about to fling it aside for Percy to read later when he caught the return sender on the back.

O. Wood

Now that was interesting.

Why was Oliver Wood writing to Percy?

Fred cast a quick glance about the kitchen and outside – no one was in sight. Percy had been annoying enough recently that he had lost the privilege of privacy, Fred reasoned, as he carefully slid the envelope open – he would have to be able to reseal it later. Besides, it was unlikely that it was anything overly interesting. Perhaps Percy had accidentally taken one of Wood’s cloaks home from Hogwarts. There weren’t many other conceivable reasons for Wood to be staying in contact with Percy – surely he had been glad to escape that dorm!

Dear Percy,

I know my handwriting pains you on a good day, so sorry in advance for this but I can’t keep my hand steady … wow, I wish I could tell you this in person.

Picture the scene – I am jumping up and down and you are trying to get me to stay calm long enough to tell you why. I am also probably squealing and making noises that sound like a banshee – at least that’s how my dad described my reaction when the post came!

Puddlemere United got back to me ... I am officially their reserve keeper! Ahhhhh!

(Insert me jumping into your arms and snogging you senseless in excitement).

(Insert me tackling you on to a nearby surface to celebrate – this will be happening regardless).

Can you believe it? I feel all my training has paid off! I’d half like to come over just to tell Fred and George ‘I told you so!’ Speaking of the twins, I hope they still aren’t giving you grief about the report on cauldron thickness. For two people who apparently want to make sweets and potions for a living, you would think they might be more concerned that they won’t get blown up.

Anyway, I’m so proud of you for getting such responsibility so early on in the job. I hope that Mr Crouch can see what an excellent employee he has, although maybe you could spend more time waxing lyrical about me, instead of him in your next letter (that was a joke, my ego is fine, and I am glad you have such an interesting boss – dad told me he was involved in Death Eater trials!).

Whatever this top secret event is that you keep alluding to, you had better tell me in person when we have dinner on Friday – telling me in person will mean there is no paper trail and therefore no one can prove you told me. And you know I am excellent at keeping a secret!

It seems odd not to be getting ready to go back to Hogwarts, but we are both doing what we have always dreamed of – just going to miss having you one bed away (or one pillow away)! We took those years for granted too much! Is it too much for me to suggest we start saving to rent somewhere together?

Think about it and tell me at dinner!

Love Oliver

P.S. I JUST READ YOUR LETTER – SO GLAD YOU GOT WORLD CUP TICKETS! I’LL DEFINITELY SEE YOU THERE.

P.P.S. xx

Fred stared at the page in front of him, stunned speechless.

Was this a prank?

He looked around for George, expecting to see his twin doubled over laughing.

No one was there and no one was laughing.

Fred skimmed the letter again and so much jumped out – the easy familiarity, the mention of snogging, dinner dates, Oliver supporting Percy in his annoying job, the suggestion of moving in together, love Oliver, the kisses at the end.

Sweet Merlin.

There was only one possible explanation.

Was Oliver Wood dating Percy?

Fred read the letter for a third time, trying to come to another conclusion.

No.

It was even more obvious.

This was the only explanation.

Between the absolute shock and disbelief, Fred had room to begrudgingly admire Percy for this. After all, Oliver Wood was a catch and Percy was … well, if Oliver Wood could fall in love with him, he couldn’t be as bad as Fred often assumed. Maybe he was overlooking some star qualities that were hidden beneath his brother’s pretentious demeanour.

But what to do with this information?

He considered running straight out to the chicken coup to show George and had already started for the door when something stopped him.

Percy was dating Oliver Wood.

Percy was dating a man.

Percy had not told anyone it seemed.

Fred bit his lip; Percy was the most frustrating and pompous prat who lived at the Burrow. But at the end of the day, he did live there, and he was his brother and that counted for something. Dear help him if George ever found out that he knew and hadn’t told him though, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. No matter what Percy thought, Fred didn’t consider himself a heartless git.

Clearly this was a serious relationship which it wasn’t going away anytime soon, no matter how bizarre the pairing was in Fred’s head. That meant that everyone would find out sometime. Which meant there would be plenty of opportunity for teasing Percy about this in the future. But Fred concluded that the teasing should only come once he knew about this on Percy’s terms.

Besides, Percy gave him enough to work with as it was – cauldron bottoms indeed!

With a heavy sigh, Fred sealed the letter back into the envelope, chucked it on the table where Hermes had landed and turned back to the sink.

He had lots of time to come up with excellent jokes for the future.

Time unfortunately turned out to be the one thing not in Fred Weasley’s favour and years later his older brother often wondered what Fred would have made of his lifelong relationship with Oliver Wood. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Arthur 

Arthur did not normally break rules at the Ministry … unless he needed to. For example, Order business sometimes required a little rule-bending. On this occasion, it was more of a personal reason.

Following the incident at Christmas lunch, Arthur had become increasingly concerned about the rift between Percy and the rest of his family. He had decided to turn up at Percy’s flat and try to reason with him; at least for Molly’s sake.

However, once he arrived at the flat, a young woman had answered and explained she had moved in at the start of the month and the old tenant must have moved. Unfortunately no forwarding address had been left and Errol could deliver post to Percy, but he couldn’t tell humans where Percy was.

Which explained why Arthur was currently illegally flicking through the records of all Ministry employees. Finally, he reached W and whilst he was there, checked his own form.

Address: The Burrow, Ottery St-Catchpole, England

Emergency Contact: Mrs Molly Weasley

Dependents: Mr Ronald Weasley, Miss Ginerva Weasley

The form went on to list years of service, department, etc. but it showed Arthur the date of update was accurate, following Fred and George leaving school the year before.

The next file held the title, ‘Weasley, Percy’.

Arthur flicked it open and noticed the update date was far more recent – just before Christmas. His eyes flicked to the address, and he copied it carefully across to the parchment he had brought with him. Satisfied that he now had the means to find his son, if necessary, he went to put the file away when his eye caught the line below the address.

Emergency Contact: Mr Oliver Wood

Dependents: None

Arthur blinked stupidly for a minute, not comprehending the change to the form. There was something very final about Percy removing his parents as emergency contacts. Arthur couldn’t have lied if he tried; it hurt.

Sighing he put the file back in its place and slipped back into the main atrium without being caught.

Why would Percy pick Oliver Wood as his emergency contact? All Arthur knew of the name was that he had played Quidditch with Charlie and the twins. He vaguely recalled hearing the twins mention that he’s been signed to a professional team, although he couldn’t recall which one.

All day Arthur tried to solve the mystery of how Percy knew this man so well that he’d put him down as an emergency contact, instead of his parents.

It wasn’t until he was sitting eating his breakfast the next morning and Molly was reading aloud a letter from Ginny that something clicked.

Oliver Wood.

Percy used to write home about him all the time in his first few years of school. He had been Percy’s roommate! Over the years his name had disappeared from Percy’s correspondence. But clearly his connection to Percy had not disappeared. They clearly had a very strong relationship …

Ah.

That was it.

Arthur’s emergency contact had only changed from his own parents to Molly when they had married.

Suddenly the connection between Percy and this Oliver Wood was much clearer.

Arthur smiled sadly as he realised for the first time that Percy was not alone in the world. One day they would hopefully reconnect, but until then, it was a relief to know that he had someone who loved him.

Many years later the same form read:

Emergency Contact: Mr Oliver Weasley-Wood

Dependents: Miss Molly Weasley-Wood, Miss Lucy Weasley-Wood

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Charlie 

White hot adrenaline coursed through Charlie as he ran across the grass looking about frantically for red hair. He had arrived late to the battle after a Patronus had arrived from Bill. He had seen both of his parents already, but his mother had begged him to leave them and go and find his siblings. Her desperation was palpable and the battle was not clearly being won by either side.

Just as he was about to head back into the castle, he tripped over a body. Quickly he righted himself, wand at the ready, when he realised who it was.

“Percy!” his voice was a croak. No. Percy could not be dead. He shouldn’t even be here. For once, Charlie had been glad that his little brother had stayed out of the Order. He reached out a shaking hand and rolled Percy over, terrified at the thought of lifeless eyes staring back at him.

Instead, sharp blue eyes moved about within an immobile face.

Charlie let out a gasp of relief and muttered an unbinding spell, before pulling Percy into a tight hug.

“Percy, what in Merlin’s name are you doing here? When did you arrive? Do Mum and Dad know you’re here? I thought you were dead,” Charlie felt his voice crack on the final word.

Instead of answering the questions, Percy burst into hysterical tears.

Charlie grabbed his face and made him look at him, “it’s okay, you’re not! I’m here, we’re going to find everyone else, okay. We’re going to win this. Then we’ll all go home.”

Percy just sobbed harder.

Charlie felt helpless; he hadn’t seen Percy cry since before they went to Hogwarts over ten years ago, “what’s wrong Perce? Tell me.”

Percy couldn’t stop crying and Charlie looked around frantically, hoping for a hint.

“Fred,” Percy managed through hyperventilating tears.

“I’m Charlie, Perce, have you hit your head?”

“No,” he sobbed. “Fred.”

Understanding began to dawn, “Where is Fred? What’s happened?”

“He … he … don’t make me say it,” he cried.

“Percy, please,” Charlie was begging, “tell me you aren’t serious.”

“I wish I could.”

“No…” Charlie managed through tears.

“He was laughing,” supplied Percy helplessly and Charlie threw his arms around him. Together in the dark corner of the grounds, the two brothers fell into one another and let the tears flow. Charlie wasn’t sure how long they sat there and how they managed to do it without getting hit, but time passed and suddenly an icy voice filled the night air.

"You have fought valiantly,” said the high, cold voice of You-Know-Who sending a shiver tingling down Charlie’s spine. “Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity.”

Charlie let out a wet sob.

“Treat your injured. I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

“We should move,” Percy’s voice was hoarse.

Charlie nodded, “where is he?”

“Top floor.”

Charlie took a heavy breath and stared at the smoke billowing off the top of the castle.

“Let’s go,” Percy said solemnly.

Charlie remained silent; what else was there to say? Up ahead people had begun to move the injured and dead into the castle. Charlie kept glancing around the grounds; there were plenty of familiar faces but not the ones he desperately needed to see. Where were Bill and Fleur? Was Ginny okay? Had Ron managed to stop Harry going to You-Know-Who? Where his parents alright? Did George know yet? Oh Merlin, George…

“Perce!”

A sudden movement in the air had Charlie on guard at once, as a stocky man barrelled past him and flung himself into his brother. Instinctively, Charlie raised his wand but soon realised it was not needed.

“You’re alright,” the man breathed with a sob, pulling back from the tight embrace and pressing a long kiss to Percy’s forehead. Charlie felt his eyebrows rise; this was unexpected.

Percy gulped, unshed tears building in his eyes, “I’m … alive.”

Charlie bit his own lip to prevent further tears and watched as the man started at Percy, clearly trying to assess what had happened. There was something familiar about the man that Charlie couldn’t place. He must have known him when he was at Hogwarts. 

“Who?” the man asked fearfully for he had clearly found in Percy’s eyes the source of the tears.

“Fred,” it was said simply before Percy pulled the man close and buried his nose in the curve of his neck. The man responded by wrapping his own arms around Percy and whispering words that Charlie could not hear.

Charlie turned slightly, wanting to give his brother as much privacy as he could, given the circumstances.  Eventually, however, he softly cleared his throat.

The two men untangled themselves and turned to look at him. Now that he could see the other man face on, Charlie realised with a jolt of surprise that it was Oliver Wood, the Keeper he had put on the team when he’d been just a second year. How fitting that Percy would find … love, for it must be love, in the arms of a man as unashamedly ambitious as himself.

“I…” Percy began, looking unsure of himself in a way that Charlie was not going to allow.

“You don’t have to explain, Percy,” Charlie said firmly, holding his hands up. “Least of all to me.”

Oliver and Percy exchanged a glance and had another unspoken conversation.

“Go be with your family,” Oliver whispered quietly. “They need you. I’ll keep helping with the injured.”

“But you are physically okay, aren’t you?” Percy checked as he glanced down Oliver’s body looking for any sign of harm.

“Physically, yeah,” Oliver noted, clearly eyeing up Percy in a similar manner. “We can talk about the rest later.”

Percy nodded and quickly sent an apologetic look at Charlie before turning and pressing a quick but firm kiss to Oliver’s lips, “I love you.”

Oliver nodded, “I love you too.”

They separated and Percy decisively started towards the castle. Charlie followed him, unsure of what to say. He wanted Percy to know how happy he was that in the midst of this darkness, he had something – someone – to give him hope. He also wanted Percy to know that he would support him no matter what anyone else had to say.

Percy spoke first, “I know this is really not the time, but please would you mind keeping that – Oliver and I – to yourself … just for now. No one else knows yet and I would rather tell them in my own time.” Percy explained haltingly.

Charlie gave him a reassuring pat on the back, “you know me better than that Perce. But for what it’s worth, I’m happy for you.”

Percy looked blankly surprised as if this reaction had not ever occurred to him as an option. Not for the first time, Charlie wished for a more accepting and open minded world that didn’t cause people to second guess or question the reception their love would get.

“Thank you, Charlie,” his sincerity in those simple words cut close to the bone.

“Don’t mention it,” Charlie shrugged. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“You want me to be your best man?”

“There’s no need to sound so shocked, it’s logical,” Percy said, slightly haughtily, as if offended by the surprised tone. “Ideally I would ask my best friend but I am marrying him so it can’t be helped. Obviously, I cannot very well ask George. I’m closer to you than Bill or Ron and you did a good speech at Bill’s wedding, so you have experience.”

“Gee Perce, you really know how to build a guy up, ‘logical choice’ and ‘experienced’. Should I update my CV?” Charlie grinned.

Percy flushed slightly and coughed, “well, the real reason is because I would like it to be you. You were the first person I told about Oliver. Even if it wasn’t really telling you … more showing. You barely knew anything about our relationship and you immediately supported me. As you have done over all the years since. There’s no one else I would rather have as my best man.”

“Oh, alright then,” Charlie beamed. “But if this is how you get me to be your best man, dear help Oliver when he hears whatever vows you’re preparing … he’s going to sob!”

“He better, after all I have been drafting them for about twenty years.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Fleur

Fleur knew most of her in-laws very well. She had lived with the younger four for two summers and whilst they had their differences, she had grown to love them all as her own siblings. She knew Charlie well from visiting him in Romania with Bill, and from the many stories her husband had shared of their childhood.

Percy was the one in-law she barely knew. She wished this could have been different, but it was what it was, and the past could not be changed.

However, Fleur was determined to make up for lost time and had spent time since the battle chatting openly to Percy about anything from her work at Gringotts to his desire to learn French. She had indulged him in various stories about his siblings from the years he had missed, and even did her best not to make it obvious that she had been hurt by their initial response to her. In turn, Percy told her about what Bill had been like as a child, how Percy had idolised him and about his dreams of transforming the Magical Transportation Sector.

Despite their frequent chats, it took a late night visit to the bathroom for Fleur to learn something extremely significant about Percy.

She and Bill had both had a few glasses of wine at dinner and had decided to sleep in Bill’s old room, instead of heading home for the night.

And so it was, that at half past two, Fleur was sneaking back up the stairs from the bathroom. She was about to re-enter Bill’s room when she heard a loud crack from across the hallway, followed by a whispered voice. She frowned and noticed that Percy’s door was ajar.

She should have just gone back to bed, but she was concerned for Percy. Careful not to step on the creaky floorboard, she moved closer to the door.

“I should’ve flown, that crack could’ve woken someone,” a voice that wasn’t Percy said. Fleur frowned, wand hand twitching.

“I don’t care, as selfish as this sounds, I just needed you here.”

That was Percy. Fleur relaxed slightly; whoever it was clearly wasn’t a threat, but who was it?

“I’m here now, scootch up, there’s room for us both in that bed.”

“Only if one of lies on top of the other.”

“I’m definitely not opposed to that. You know I love how you look on top of me.”

Fleur flushed and glanced at Bill’s door; perhaps she should go to bed. Curiosity won out. She blamed the twins and Ginny for their bad influence.

“Oliver! This is my parents’ house! You can’t say things like that!”

Fleur noted that Percy did not sound as scandalised as she would have expected, in fact he sounded amused.

“Sorry, I know that isn’t why you sent the Patronus.”

There was a pause.

“Was it the one with Fred again?”

Another pause – Percy must have replied non-verbally.

“What was it, love? I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

The causal use of the endearment caused Fleur to press a hand to her lips to suppress a happy gasp.

“It’s okay, you’re here Ol, that’s all I needed,” Percy replied softly. “I just needed to know you were safe.”

Fleur grimaced; she knew the feeling all too well from dreams of spells flashing across her eyes, werewolf claws and Bill lying motionless on the ground. She couldn’t count the number of nights she had awoken gasping and only been able to calm down when she could feel Bill’s steady heart beating against her ear.

“Not a scratch on me,” the man – Oliver – responded. “Can I stay the rest of the night? Y’know I always sleep better when I’m with you.”

“Of course,” said Percy. “I’ll move back into the flat soon, I promise. It’s just been so pleasant being with them all again.”

“Shh love, I know, and I want you to stay here as long as you want. Don’t worry about me.”

“That’s all I worry about.”

“C’mon, let’s get some sleep.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Of course.”

“Je t’aime.”

“French?”

“Fleur has been teaching me,” Percy yawned.

“I love you too.”

The voices stopped and were replaced by soft breathing. Fleur stood there until she was sure they were asleep, then crept back into Bill’s room, grabbed her wand and cast a sticking charm on the door opposite her. At least it would give them a minute of warning before someone barged in there in the morning to wake Percy up. Privacy was not something well respected by some of the Weasleys and Fleur would be damned if she did not give this Oliver person a bit of help.

With that, Fleur slide back into bed.

“Where’ve you been?” Bill muttered sleepily, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“Just at the toilet,” she replied, curling herself around her husband. “Je t’aime.”

“Te j’aime,” Bill replied. Fleur smiled to herself; Percy was a much better student.

“Where is Oliver?” Fleur asked as Percy cradled the tiny bundle that was his niece with a look of awe on his face.

She was leaning up against the pillows of St Mungo’s, tired but recovering. Bill was asleep in the chair at her bedside. It had been a long day that they had assumed would be as devastating as the year before. However, their daughter had had other ideas. It was bittersweet that forevermore they would celebrate their daughter’s birthday on the day her uncle had died. George had been one of the first to arrive to visit. He hadn’t stayed long but had declared it was a ‘perfect’ birthday for her.

Percy looked up from staring at the small girl, “Oliver?”

Fleur nodded, “did he not want to meet Victoire?”

Percy just looked stunned, “of course he did. Just the Patronus that Bill sent to everyone said you only wanted family here today.”

A pang of sorrow hit Fleur.

“Oliver is family, Percy,” said Fleur softly. “Like me, non?”

“I think I doubt it … or forget sometimes that you all view Oliver as such,” Percy said shakily. “It means so much that you think that. He really did want to meet her … in fact, he’s in the waiting room.”

Fleur smiled, “well go and get him.”

Percy handed Victoire back to Fleur and returned a moment later with a sheepish looking Oliver. Once they reached the bedside, Fleur gently passed her daughter to the man.

“Victoire, meet your Uncle Oliver.”

Oliver cried.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Molly

Cooking was one of Molly’s favourite pastimes, so, it was only fitting that she found out about Percy’s relationship due to her own cooking.

The last few months had been torturous on the whole family and Molly had thrown herself into caring for her children, grown though they mostly were, in as many ways as possible. Her latest idea had been to invite her children to bring round anyone who might be in need to a good meal and company. Ginny especially had been grateful and said she would round up some of her friends from Hogwarts who had suffered under the Carrows. Ron and even George had said they would see if anyone they knew would come. It was Percy though who made Molly frown; did he have anyone to bring?

Cooking for tens of people was an excellent way to distract herself, she thought as she bustled around the kitchen on the afternoon in question. She had found that sitting still for even a moment left her thinking of what she had lost. What they had all lost. Whilst Fred never was far from her thoughts, the challenge of mass producing a roast dinner left her with very little brain power for other things, such as crying over the sheer horror of losing her son.

The Floo went off behind her, causing her to turn and see one of her sons stumbling out of the fireplace, quickly followed by a stocky man with an easy going smile. Molly recognised him, although she hadn’t seen him since Fred’s funeral.

“Oh Percy, early as always! How are you dear?” she wrapped him in a quick hug which he returned.

“Rather well, Mum, thanks – this smells delicious!”

“Well, it’ll be a while before it’s ready,” Molly smiled and then turned to the other man, “sorry dear, how are you? Oliver, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Mrs Weasley,” he said, returning the smile. “Very thoughtful of you to invite everyone over.”

“Not a bother,” she assured him. “Why don’t you two go and make yourselves comfortable?”

“You sure you don’t need any help, Mum?” Percy raised an eyebrow at the slightly chaotic state of the kitchen.

“Not at all, dear, go and sit down!”

She watched as Percy led Oliver into the living room with an arm hovering over his lower back; then she turned back to the potatoes.

Soon the Burrow was hiving with half of Hogwarts’ past students chatting and helping out. Molly had tried to keep track of them as they arrived. This had been less than easy when Ginny had piled in with most of Dumbledore’s Army.

“Food is ready, everyone grab a seat!” she eventually called to the assembled masses and they descended on the long tables that Bill and Charlie had set up in the yard. Molly waved her wand and plates flew to each place setting and dishes moved from the kitchen shelves out through the open window.

She glanced around and accounted for her children; Bill was sitting with Fleur and Charlie, Ron was deep in conversation with Harry and Hermione, Ginny was showing Luna a new trick that Arnold and learnt and even George was chatting away to Lee and Katie.

Molly frowned.

“Where is Percy?” she asked in general, expecting one of her children to respond. However, it was Oliver Wood, who was sitting opposite her, who spoke up.

“He’s just getting Mr Weasley from the shed,” Oliver explained, as he heaped various pieces of food on to his plate.

“Oh, thank you, dear,” Molly smiled. “Enjoy your dinner!”

She started plating up a meal for Arthur when she noticed something peculiar about what Oliver was doing. He had ignored the plate in front of him and was loading the one from the empty place setting beside him.

Molly was about to point this out of him, when she noticed he lifted a spoonful of roast potatoes to put on the plate, before hesitating and putting them back. Instead, he scooped a generous helping of mashed potatoes on to the plate.

Just like Percy, she thought as she watched him pick through a bowl of mixed boiled vegetables and use the tongs to only pick up broccoli for the plate. The mange tout and baby sweetcorn were ignored … just like they were when Percy served himself.

Hold on.

Molly frowned; was Oliver making a plate up for Percy?

She watched closely as he conjured a mini gravy boat and set it on the edge of the plate, accounting for Percy’s dislike of food sitting too long in gravy. She watched as he carefully picked only the breast meat of the chicken. She watched as he added two Yorkshire puddings and then sneakily grabbed a third – they were Percy’s favourite.

At last, he set the plate back down and performed a warming charm over it.

Then and only then, did Oliver lift his own plate and start filling it.

Molly tried to process this; she had known and cared for Percy for nearly twenty-two years, so it made sense that she knew the intricacies of his slightly fussy approach to food. While yes, he had spent a significant amount of time away from home, both at Hogwarts and in London, she did not imagine anyone else would have picked up on these. Molly knew for a fact that if she asked any of Percy’s siblings to fix a plate for him, they would never do it with as much care or attention to detail as Oliver Wood had just done. So somehow this boy was as aware of Percy’s likes and dislikes as she was, his own mother, and yet more so than his siblings.

She looked down at the plate in her own hands that she had been preparing for Arthur. She could prepare it with her eyes closed if needed; such was the nature of her care of her husband over all these years. There was an intimacy that came with knowing the finer details of someone else.

She set Arthur’s plate down and slowly filled her own, still glancing at Oliver.

“Is everything okay Mrs Weasley?” he asked politely, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Of course, dear, thank you,” she smiled, “won’t you start eating? Everyone else certainly has!”

“Thanks, but I’ll wait for Percy if it’s all the same with you,” he said with a nod to the empty seat.

Molly nodded, “I always do the same when Arthur isn’t here yet.”

This caused Oliver to turn slightly pink, but he was distracted by the arrival of the two men in question.

“Thanks Molly, looks fantastic,” Arthur grinned, taking a seat beside her. But her attention remained on Oliver and her son.

Percy’s face had lit up when he had seen his plate waiting for him and he smiled softly as Oliver looked up at him.

“Thanks, Ol,” he said with a smile, as he squeezed the other man’s shoulder and sat down. Molly noticed Oliver’s arm move in such a way that could only mean he had rested his hand on Percy’s thigh. Percy moved his own hand under the table and they both dug into their food one-handed. 

Oh.

So that was how Oliver knew about the mini gravy boat.

“And this one’s for you Oliver,” Molly smiled and passed a present to the man in question.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” Oliver said quickly, but Molly could tell he was touched.

Percy caught her eye and she just shrugged, turning her attention back to Oliver. He carefully opened the present to reveal a knitted jumper in Puddlemere United colours with the word ‘keeper’ across the back with a number nine below it.

Oliver looked thrilled, “you know my team details, Mrs Weasley! Oh wow, I love it! Thanks!”

He pulled it on over his t-shirt and showed it off to those around him. Molly was beaming when Percy tugged her sleeve and caused her to turn.

“Thank you, Mum,” he said sincerely, his eyes telling her everything she had suspected was correct. “Honestly.”

Molly patted her son’s earnestly grateful face, “you have nothing to thank me for Percy. He’s a lucky man to have you.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: BIll

Bill found out because Fleur told him. Not intentionally, but he was not an idiot.

A few weeks back, she had asked him out of the blue one morning did he know anyone called Oliver. He had shrugged and replied that he couldn’t think of anyone. Fleur accepted this and got on with writing a letter to her parents.

A week after this, she had asked again, this time requesting if any of his brothers knew anyone called Oliver.

“Why, is one year of marriage to me enough?” he joked.

Fleur curled up on his lap and kissed him soundly, “one hundred years would not be enough. Now, answer the question.”

“Well, now you mention it, I think there was a bloke in Percy’s year at school called Oliver. He plays for Puddlemere United now.”

“Delightful,” Fleur smiled and kissed him again.

Not long after this, he had overheard Fleur suggesting to his mother that she should invite Oliver Wood over for dinner a bit more, citing the evidence that Percy seemed to enjoy his company at the party their Mum had held.

This was when Bill became suspicious.

Sure enough, the following Sunday when everyone gathered at the Burrow, Oliver Wood sat amongst the Weasleys chatting happily to Harry and Charlie about Quidditch. Percy sat on the periphery of this group, clearly paying rapt attention but not adding anything himself.

Bill noted that this was very unlike Percy, for he normally had a well-rehearsed opinion of everything, even Quidditch. That was when he caught Fleur watching the exchange as well; she had a smile on her face, as if she knew something he did not. Bill was determined to uncover whatever this was.

At dinner, Fleur managed to end up opposite Bill, beside Oliver, who had Percy on his other side. She smiled at him across the toad-in-the-hole as if nothing was amiss.

“Perce tells me you’re teaching him French,” Oliver said after a while, once conversation had lulled.

Bill raised an eyebrow, Perce? He had never heard Percy allowing anyone other than family to refer to him as such, but a quick glance at Percy showed that he didn’t react to the nickname. Perhaps they were closer friends than Bill had realised.

“Oui, mon frere Percy est un bon élève,” Fleur replied in her native tongue. Bill caught her eye; his French was not as good as Percy’s, despite having had much longer to learn it, but he knew what ‘frere’ meant and was touched. As was Percy it seemed, for he beamed back at Fleur.

“Les langues ne sont pas l'un des nombreux talents d'Oliver,” Percy replied with a grin at Oliver.

Fleur laughed, “well, Percy, you must share his other many talents!”

Oliver choked on a bit of his dinner and with wide eyes, turned to Percy, “what are you saying about me?”

“He is nothing but kind about you,” Fleur assured him with a knowing smile.

“As long as it stays that way,” Oliver winked at Percy.

Bill had a growing suspicion about what was going on. But how to find out for sure? He had a feeling Fleur knew already, but what if she didn’t, he couldn’t put the idea out there. It would not be fair to Percy.

Bill mulled his options over throughout dinner, until after dessert, he volunteered himself and Percy to clear the kitchen whilst the others relaxed in the living room.

“I assume that was an elaborate ploy to talk to me privately,” Percy said as soon as everyone had left the kitchen.

Bill shrugged, “not that elaborate if you could work it out so quickly.”

Percy raised an eyebrow and started waving dishes into the sink with his wand, “well?”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, I may be completely off the mark,” Bill began. Percy nodded at him to continue. “Who is Oliver to you?”

Percy froze, though not in any sort of fear, more in shock.

“I know it is very blunt of me to ask Perce, but I hope I’m right in what I’m thinking, he makes you happy, it seems,” Bill blundered on.

Percy nodded slowly, “yes, he does.”

Bill waited, giving Percy the space to think.

“He’s my …” Percy paused. “I used to say boyfriend, but it doesn’t seem enough for what we are anymore. I suppose he is to me what Fleur is to you.”

It was Bill’s turn to freeze; he had been expecting this to a degree, but he did not know how serious it was.

“How long has this been going on, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Since the end of my fifth year, so about six and a half years,” Percy smiled, clearly remembering the time fondly. “He wrote me all that summer, then we had the last two years of school together. To tell you the truth, it wasn’t easy back then, we were terrified of what would happen if we were caught. But we stayed together after school, and then the war came. And well, recently it doesn’t seem so scary for people to know anymore. In fact, telling you this right now is a massive relief. Especially since you aren’t running for the hills.”

“I would never!” Bill said firmly, “I’d jinx anyone who did.”

“Thank you, Bill, that truly means a lot.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Funnily enough Ginny has known for years – although I am not sure if she knows we’re still together. She’s bright though, I would say she could work it out. Charlie knows too and I’m starting to think Mum is onto something too with the amount that she invites Oliver around.”

“Do you want everyone else to know?” Bill asked. “I can help you if you want.”

“I used to think about doing some big announcement, but it does feel more natural for people to just find out as they have been. You can tell Fleur if you want. But otherwise, I’m happy. So is Oliver,” Percy replied. “Obviously, we’d rather the outside world don’t get hold of it. We aren’t ready for that … we might never be. But Oliver is family to me and I do want my family to know that.”

Bill felt himself tear up slightly, so he pulled Percy into a quick hug and said with a gruff cough, “of course Perce, that’s all you have to say. Oliver is a Weasley now – as much as Fleur, or Harry or Hermione.”

Percy beamed.

Later that night, Bill brought it up to Fleur as they lay in bed.

“I’m glad he told you,” replied Fleur, then added smugly, “of course, I have known since June.”

“Well, I’d love to know how!”

“Hmm, I actually don’t think you do … it involved me casting a locking charm on Percy’s bedroom door.”

“What?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: George

George closed the door behind him softly and crept down the hallway as quietly as he could. He knew Percy didn’t mind him crashing at his flat when he wanted out of the one that he had shared with Fred in Diagon Alley. That being said, he had always shown the courtesy of owling ahead to warn Percy of his arrival and he hadn’t stayed the night in over a month. But as it was late in the evening and well past Percy’s ridiculous bedtime, he had let himself in with the spare key that Percy had given him the first time he had stayed over.

George slipped into the spare room and toed off his boots before grabbing some pyjamas from the second-hand bureau that Percy had got for him.

Equally quietly, he set down his wand on the bedside table and pulled out the sleeping potion that he had picked up at the apothecary that afternoon. He hadn’t slept well for a few days and it was well needed.

However, just as he was about to take a swig of it, he heard a noise.

The last possible noise he would have expected.

A loud moan.

Unmistakably of pleasure.

Coming from the wall that adjoined Percy’s own room.

George felt his jaw drop, potion forgotten.

No way.

He’d shared a dorm with teenage boys for years, he considered himself pretty open-minded, all things considered. But he had never given thought to the fact that Percy of all people might have … physical needs.

“Right, well you’re definitely needed now,” he muttered to the potion and was about to drink again.

“Keep going, yes!”

That was not Percy’s voice.

But it was a man’s voice.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you full of surprises,” George muttered.

A louder groan.

George considered his options.

1) He could leave and pretend he never heard any of this, perhaps even convince Hermione to perform a short-term memory loss charm on him.

2) He could alert Percy to his presence.

3) He could take the potion and go to sleep.

4) He could do what he would do if Fred were here with him; for old time’s sake, make this as embarrassing for Percy as he could.

Option 1 was tempting, but he’d have to explain to Hermione why he wanted the charm. There was no way he was interrupting Percy having sex so Option 2 was out the window. Option 3 was probably the best option, but it meant Option 4 couldn’t happen.

“More!”

Oh, sweet Merlin, he had better act fast – Option 4 it was.

George quickly cast a silencing charm around the room, grabbed an alarm clock that would go off at 7am – half an hour before Percy woke up and then slipped into bed without the potion. The potion would prevent the early wake up that was necessary for his plan to work. Eventually he had imagined enough different scenarios to wipe his mind of what was happening on the other side of the wall and fell asleep.

7am rolled around and George was up and dressed like a flash. He undid the silencing charm and ensured no one else was awake before leaving the room and heading down to the kitchen.

Once there, he proceeded to lay out two place settings at the table, cook enough porridge for three people and brew a pot of tea.

By the time 7.30am came around, his plan was in motion.

He was sitting eating his own porridge at one of the place settings when he heard a door down the hall open and close, followed by sleepy voices getting closer.

George plastered on a winning smile and reminded himself that nothing more could surprise him, no matter who it was with Percy. The ultimate goal was ensuring he made this extremely embarrassing for all involved, except himself.

“Good morning, Perce, I’ve got some porridge on the stove and tea in the pot,” he said cheerfully as Percy froze in the doorway.

 “George! What are you doing here?” George noted that he was clearly trying to hide the figure behind him, who George couldn’t quite make out in the dark hallway.

“What, can I not pop around and make my favourite brother breakfast?” George asked sweetly, “I didn’t realise you had a visitor, or I would have set another place… no matter, there’s enough porridge to go around! What a happy state of affairs!”

Percy didn’t reply, he just stared, his face turning beetroot.

George whisked another bowl out of the cupboard and was just about to make another wisecrack when the other man moved past Percy and spoke.

“I’d just like to know where this morning energy has come from. It certainly wasn’t there when I was dragging your sorry arse out of bed to play Quidditch.”

George dropped the bowl.

He thought he had been prepared.

He’d imagined every possible scenario.

He really thought he had.

Oliver Wood had somehow not crossed his mind.

“George, be careful,” Percy admonished, waving his wand quickly to mend the bowl.

“Morning George,” Oliver added with a small wave.

George blinked stupidly.

“Oliver was staying over last night.”

“Staying over?” George asked faintly.

Percy frowned, “yes, it means when a guest sleeps at another person’s place.”

“Does it always include the guest getting railed into a mattress?” George asked before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

Percy turned tomato red.

George’s brain caught up with his mouth and he grimaced.

Oliver however, grinned, “actually, I think that definition only applies when I’m the guest in question.”

“Ol!” Percy hissed, looking entirely flustered. This just made Oliver grin and pull the other man into a side hug that ended with a kiss to his temple.

“What’s the point in denying it love, he clearly arrived a good bit before breakfast.”

“Yes, about that, I do feel I should be compensated Perce, I fear my innocence has been entirely corrupted,” George finally broke out of his stupor. “There are some things a younger brother should never have to hear.”

“And there are some things an older brother should be entitled to, namely privacy,” Percy responded.

George held his hands up, “trust me, I will never enter this flat again without your explicit written permission.”

“Thank Merlin,” Percy muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If we could just forget this entirely, that would be great.”

“I’ll not be forgetting any of it,” Oliver remarked with a satisfied grin, as he sat down with a bowl of porridge.

“I am once again reminding you that you are quite lucky not to have siblings,” Percy retorted, grabbing a bowl himself and sitting down, still bright red.

George cleared his throat, “well look, this seems pretty serious, so like just for the record, I know I’m an arse, but I’m glad you’ve got someone Perce.”

“And I am once again reminding you are extremely lucky to have siblings,” Oliver smiled adoringly at Percy and bopped him gently on the nose with his forefinger.

Percy finally smiled; the tension broke.

“I appreciate it George,” he responded. “And if you want anyone to commiserate with, Ginny caught us snogging back when we were sixteen.”

George gaped, “this has been going on since you were sixteen? Hold on … Ginny told us she caught you snogging Penelope Clearwater back then!”

Percy shrugged, “Ginny promised me that she would never tell anyone, but I knew she would break eventually, hanging out with you lot. Penelope is a good friend of mine … of ours, I should say … who was happy to go along with it.”

“She’s top of the Christmas card list,” Oliver smiled reaching out and grabbing Percy’s hand.

“I cannot believe I did not know about this at all! You’ve got to be pulling my leg,” George spluttered.

Oliver shook his head, “it’s very real. In fact, I normally live here all the time. Just he spent all summer and autumn back at the Burrow and then I moved to Puddlemere in October for training. I only just moved back in properly last week.”

“You could’ve warned me, Perce,” George muttered.

Percy held his hands up, “you hadn’t come round in ages, it slipped my mind.”

“To be honest George, there hasn’t been much time for that sort of errand this week,” Oliver gave a self-satisfied smug that made Percy blush again.

“Enough!” he groaned.

“Honestly, I am surprised you didn’t know before now,” Percy added. “I always had an inkling that Fred and you knew, but somehow had managed to realise there was a line when it came to teasing me.”

George shook his head, “I honestly didn’t have a clue … but who knows, maybe Fred did.”

“I like to think he did,” Percy said quietly, squeezing Oliver’s hand.

“When were you going to tell me that you never caught Percy snogging Penelope Clearwater?” George demanded bursting into Ginny’s room.

“Why hello Ginny, nice to see you home for Christmas, yes I will knock the door,” Ginny retorted as she pulled clothes out of her Hogwarts trunk.

“Yes, yes, nice to see you, etc.” George rolled his eyes. “Can we get back to the matter at hand – namely you lying to us at the age of eleven!”

“It wasn’t the first or last time I will lie to you,” Ginny smirked. “Besides, why bring it up now… you’ve known for years it wasn’t true.”

“Actually, I think you will find out I did not know until last week!”

Ginny frowned, “no, Fred definitely cornered me about years ago … like just after the Quidditch World Cup.”

George paused, “… he did?”

“Yeah, asked me was it really Penelope that I had caught Percy snogging and I hesitated long enough for him to know it wasn’t. I knew from the look on his face that he knew what I knew and I knew what he knew … that it was Oliver. We didn’t ever say anything about it again. I don’t know how you two found out to be honest.”

“We didn’t.”

“You did … I am not making this up!”

“No, I know you aren’t,” George said softly. “It’s just, I genuinely did not know. If Fred knew, he never told me.”

Ginny stopped folding the clothes and looked at him carefully, “and that upsets you?”

“I mean he’s a right snake for not telling me, but also I have to respect the fact he kept it a secret for Percy, I am not sure I would’ve done the same,” George reasoned.

Ginny snorted, “nah, you would have! You aren’t a complete arse.”

“Well I wouldn’t be so sure – I haven’t even bought Percy a Christmas present yet and it turns out I need one for Oliver too,” George laughed.

“Save yourself some money and just tell him that Fred knew – it would mean more to him I think,” Ginny suggested with a smile.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Ron

Despite all of Ginny and Hermione’s misgivings, Ron did not consider himself an oblivious fool.

In fact, he was quite proud to admit that he had picked up on the numerous clues that gave away the fact that Oliver Wood was dating his brother and had been for years. These clues included the obvious things such as dinner at their joint apartment, catching them snuggling on a sofa at The Burrow and Percy turning into a sobbing mess when Oliver was called up for the Scottish National Quidditch Team. But there were also the less obvious clues; the things that he had noticed along the way that spoke of a long-term, unspeakable bond between the two men that could only be love.

One thing that neither Ginny or Hermione would argue with Ron about however was the fact that he was fiercely protective of his family and friends.

And it was due to this, that Percy and Oliver realised just how non-oblivious Ron was.

“Isn’t it gorgeous,” he was practically drooling over the new Firebolt model in the window of the shop. Hermione gave a long-suffering sigh from beside him.

“Honestly, I thought without Harry and Ginny here, we’d be able to walk past here without someone drooling like a child.”

“Honestly, call yourself my wife, it’s like you don’t know me at all.”

“Says the man who limited me to purchasing two books earlier!”

“Only because you told me not to let you buy any! We are saving for a house, as you so rightly reminded me this morning.”

“Exactly, therefore we shouldn’t go in here,” Hermione said firmly.

Ron spluttered, “but the books!”

“Well we aren’t buying the Firebolt,” Hermione sighed moving towards the door.

“I’ll take that as a win,” Ron laughed, “besides, even the Wasps have said it’s too dear for a broom.”

“Oh look, there’s Oliver and Percy inside,” Hermione suddenly brightened up. “At least Percy can entertain me whilst you and Oliver get overexcited.”

Unfortunately for Hermione, that was not the case.

“No, I insist you get the more expensive pair,” Percy was saying as they walked in. “Those other ones are not protecting your hands well enough.”

“So my hands are a bit rough, big deal,” returned Oliver. “Y’know in the past, Keepers didn’t even have gloves.”

“And I could list the injuries caused by that! There’s a reason the Department of Magical Sports introduced safety precautions!”

“Perce, these cheaper gloves will be fine. Don’t worry!”

“I am not putting up with your hands being torn to shreds, you need quality gloves.”

“They’re too expensive!”

“You cannot put a price on safety!”

Ron exchanged a quick glance with Hermione and they both edged in another direction to admire the broomsticks. Some discussions did not require an audience.

It wasn’t until the two men were at the checkout that Ron caught hold of what they were saying again.

“So no, I won’t be selling you the gloves,” snapped the man behind the desk.

Oliver frowned and protested, “we have the money. I don’t understand.”

“You think I didn’t hear you, calling each other ‘love’ and all sorts of soppy shit! Can’t have that in my shop!”

Ron felt blood rise to his ears as he watched Oliver’s face fall and Percy reach out a protective hand to his arm. This caused the man to sneer.

“Get out now, you ain’t welcome here!”

Ron saw red.

“Is there a problem?” Ron demanded, storming over. “That’s the Keeper of Puddlemere United you’re talking to! My brother!”

“He’s a bleeding queer, Weasley!”

“How dare you! So what if he is? Didn’t stop him from winning the league last year. Doesn’t stop him from having good money that he could spend in your shop! You sponsor the team he plays for! Not that it should matter, they could be any two blokes off the street and you should still treat them with the respect they deserve!”

“Look Weasley, I ain’t serving him, no matter what you say. There’s kids who shop in here; they shouldn’t be exposed to such unnatural filth –”

Ron didn’t wait to hear where that sentence was going; he drew back a fist and punched the man in the face.

Percy let out a loud exclamation, “RON!”.

Blood poured out of the man’s nose as Ron pounced on him, landing a few more punches before  Hermione appeared, looking furious, but pulling him off the man.

“You speak like that about my family again and you’ll have more than a bloody nose and a few bruises to contend with!” Ron hissed. “Luckily for you, my wife feels fit not to have me leave you in a worse state! Luckily for us, there are other Quidditch supply shops that aren’t so hung up on out-of-date prejudices!”

“You bastard,” the man shouted in response. “That was my nose! I’ll see you fired from the Auror office for this!”

“Unlikely for you mate, I’ve an Order of Merlin First Class and helped defeat You-Know-Who, think I have a bit more sway in the Ministry than you,” Ron snapped. He wasn’t one to throw these sorts of things around but the look of hurt on Oliver and Percy’s faces was still fresh in his mind. How dare anyone speak to his family like that!

A throat was cleared from beside him; he turned and saw Hermione glaring down at the man with a stone cold look on her face.

“It might interest you to know that whilst you would be fully within your rights to complain, I would advise against it from a legal standpoint. As a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, what I have witnessed here today is you, sir, harassing Mr Weasley and Mr Wood for simply wishing to do business with you. There is no room in our society anymore for those of us who cannot accept the differences that make the wizarding world so unique and complex. I would have thought you would understand that, having lived through the war. Regardless, should you bring a case against Mr Weasley for harassment, it would be thrown out under the Unlawful Discrimination Act 1998 which would penalise you first and foremost for your actions against my brothers-in-law. So, if I were you, I would think very carefully. Not just about pressing charges. But about how you treat your fellow wizards and witches. Good day.”

With that, Hermione turned on her heal and stormed out of the shop.

Percy and Oliver stared after her in awe and disbelief respectively.

The man opened his mouth.

“I’d think very carefully before you say a word against my wife,” Ron snapped, tempted to jinx him. He turned to the others, “you coming?”

Together they left the shop and met Hermione in the street.

“Brilliant, you are, brilliant!” Ron gave her a quick kiss.

He turned to Percy and Oliver, “are you okay?”

They were both still staring, visibly shaken.

Hermione grabbed Percy gently by the arm and steered him into a quieter side street. Ron and Oliver followed.

“I can press charges anyway, Percy. The way he spoke to you both is completely unacceptable.”

“We aren’t married,” Percy said hoarsely.

Hermione frowned, “I know, but don’t worry, it’s on my very long list of laws to put forward.”

“You called us your brothers-in-law,” Percy continued.

“Well, yes, I am married to Ron, thus you are my brothers-in-law,” Hermione explained slowly. Ron could tell she was finding it hard to have to explain something to Percy – they were both normally on the exact same wavelength.

“But we are not married,” Percy stressed pointing at Oliver.

“It doesn’t make any difference to us, Perce,” countered Ron. “Oliver is our family too.”

Percy nodded slowly, clearly overcome with the emotion of the past half an hour.

“Now, could you please let me know, are you both okay? Or do I have to call Ginny down here to hex the man? I wish I’d done it myself!”

Oliver finally spoke up, “we’re good Ron, or we will be anyway. You’re a top mate.”

“I wish you hadn’t resorted to violence,” Percy added, clearly unable to help himself.

“I wish you’d resorted to more,” Oliver contradicted, as he twined his fingers around Percy’s.

Ron gave a satisfied nod, “right, think that deserves a Butterbeer… also if anyone could fix my knuckles up, I’d really appreciate it.”

Hermione pulled his hand up to her mouth and gently kissed the reddened knuckles, “that’ll do until we get a salve.”

As Ron recounted the story to Harry the next day, he was shocked by what stood out to his best mate.

“Percy and Oliver are together?”

Ron raised his eyes to the sky, “Merlin, and Hermione thinks I’m clueless. Harry, you’ve literally had dinner in their shared apartment. Did you think they were just roommates?”

“Er, yes.”

“Roommates who give joint presents and sleep in the same room?”

Harry grimaced sheepishly.

“Roommates who I have literally witnessed snogging?”

Harry choked on his cup of tea.  

“Well, it better not be a problem, I’ve got recent experience of dealing with such viewpoints,” he said with a crack of his knuckles, but a humorous glint in his eyes.  

“You know me better than that, Ron,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I just can’t believe I didn’t know … do not tell Ginny. She will never let me live this down!”

“I might tell her, if only so she can see you’re the oblivious one, not me!”

“What else have I missed?”

“Well, you know about Dean and Seamus, but there’s…”

“WHAT?”