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Percy had his entire life planned out. From his first year at Hogwarts, to becoming minister by forty. It was not an inept plan, different sections for which house he ended up in (Gryffindor, though that was not a surprise) and who his roommates where (only Oliver Wood, even though their year was quite big) and whether or not he would actually be able to take all the O.W.L subjects he wanted (all of them).
He had resigned himself to the reality that he would have no friends, no time for them, all of his attention spent on being better – being the best. Then, perhaps, someone would be proud of him. Maybe.
There were few people in his year that interested him, the only one he could think of was Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw who always smirked at him when she got the answer before him. However, he was content with simply sitting among his peers, not interacting with them at all, he could have continued his entire Hogwarts life like that, if not for Wood.
The second it turned out that he and Wood were the only boys in their dorm, Percy came up with the sensible option of splitting it in half; Wood agreed readily to the idea.
He thought that that would be it, that they would spend their time on their respective sides, but, no, Wood kept trying to talk to him, ask him how he was doing, as if he were properly interested. Percy knew he couldn’t be, because people were rarely interested in what he had to say. He could remember many a tangent he had gone on, oblivious to the recipients lack of care. At some point in his life, he decided that simply not talking was the best option.
So, Wood trying so hard to was obviously a ruse of some sort. Perhaps one of his brothers had put him up to it for some reason of other. It seemed like the kind of trick the twins would do, at least, even if they weren’t at Hogwarts quite yet.
Percy thought that he was doing a good job of being cordial, if not overly so, which maybe led to Wood returning, talking to him each day. On one notable occasion, they had even paired up in class.
Case in point, Wood entering the dorm and immediately smiling when seeing him, “Percy! I need some help with the potion's homework, if you’re not busy?”
He sighed quietly, putting down the book he was reading, “Properties of the wiggenweld potion?”
“Yes!” Wood exclaimed, throwing himself onto his bed, “It’s horrible, I managed to find the ingredients, but there’s no textbook saying what it does. It’s all too vague.”
Percy rummaged through his bag, then passed over his own homework, “Here, copy this.”
Wood frowned, not taking it, “Umm, I was kind of hoping that you would teach me, or something? I don’t know, I don’t remember reading well.”
Percy paused, Wood fiddling while he did, looking on the verge of an apology. “Alright,” he said slowly, “well, first, it’s a healing potion.”
He watched as Wood scrambled to find a pen, quickly scribbling it down, “What kind? Regrowth? Anti-infection? Painkiller?”
“It can sterilise and heal minor injuries,” he said, before frowning as Wood also jotted that down, “Professor Snape won’t like it laid out like that.”
Wood looked up at him, “I know, I’m just making notes. I’ll make it more presentable later. Anything else?”
He stayed silent a beat too long, and Wood smiled at him, expectant, “It’s... It’s also an antidote to the Sleeping Draught, and Draught of Living Death. It appears in multiple colours: green, red, pink or blue. It also replenishes stamina.”
Wood nodded, sticking out his tongue as he copied everything, then read back over it all with a precision Percy felt ashamed to admit he wouldn’t expect from Wood. In their few short weeks of being roommates, all Percy found out about Wood was that he was a quidditch fanatic, and he had subconsciously stuck him in that role.
“Thanks! It was really bugging me; I hate potions,” Wood huffed with a joking form of seriousness.
“Then what is your favourite?”
Wood blinked at him, confused. Their conversation usually ended when he had completed whatever task Wood had asked for. “Flying, I want to join the quidditch team next year.”
“It would suit you. That is the class you are best at.”
Wood grinned, “Thanks! I want to go professional when I’m older. Play for Puddlemere United, they’re my team.”
Percy pointedly looked at all the potions Wood had hanging up, and the taller boy blushed, “Yeah, yeah, you probably guessed that. What team do you support?”
He tilted his head, considering. He never really cared for quidditch, it took too much time, and he didn’t understand the appeal. Perhaps the winning part felt fun, but Percy (whenever his siblings had forced him to play, and he was unable to refuse them) had always lost, he didn’t know enough about the game. When he caught sight of his siblings playing, all of them looked so alike that he couldn’t really tell the teams apart, so it was just looking at a bunch of red-headed blurs.
“I don’t know,” he said slowly, then hastily added before Wood could protest that he’d just committed a crime, “But I guess Puddlemere United. I trust your judgement.”
Wood’s face broke out into such a wide grin, then Percy was scared he’d pull a muscle, “Then I’ll join, and become the best quidditch player, and win every single match for you!”
The winning sentiment was lost on Percy, but he always appreciated hard work. “Then I’ll go to all your matches.”
Percy didn’t know how Wood managed to stretch his grin bigger, but he did. “I’ll get you tickets. Is there anything I can help you with?”
Percy paused, because he did have work to do, and he was still partly sure that Wood was just hanging around him because he hadn’t found anyone better (why else would he willingly stay with Percy of all people?) but, perhaps, he could take advantage of this particular friendship before it ultimately ended?
“I need to find a book from the library tomorrow. If you have time, could you accompany me?”
“Sure!” Wood agreed, shoving his parchment into his potions book, “Tell me when and I’ll be there.”
“After breakfast?”
His maybe-friend, maybe-person-who-was-tricking-him-for-a-laugh nodded, “Alright. I have a training session in the evening. I’m asking the current Gryffindor keeper to teach me; she’s starting her N.E.W.Ts next year and doesn’t want to have any distractions.”
Wood said it with a scowl, as if wanting good grades was no excuse to drop quidditch.
“That doesn’t count as a match, does it?” He asked, slightly worried because he had his entire day planned out, and didn’t want to change it.
Wood shook his head, “No, don’t worry, I’ll tell you when there is so you can plan it into that schedule of yours. Probably none until next year.”
“My brother plays quidditch, I can ask him to help you if you like?”
“Charlie Weasley, right?” At his nod, Wood continued, “He’s a seeker. I’m a keeper.”
Percy looked blank. He hadn’t realised there was much of a difference, and the first time he heard all the terms, he thought that his hearing had broken and they were all the same thing.
Wood took a breath, then calmly said, “I am going to explain quidditch now, all of it,” and then he did.
Percy, for some reason, even though he had many, many things to do, sat there and listened. Not tuning him out, or leaving to do something else, just listened. He could tell when Wood noticed that, because he stumbled over his words a little, then just stared at him. Percy waved his hand in what he hoped conveyed his wish for Wood to continue.
Wood did, and that’s how Percy spent his afternoon, and, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it was just to better connect with his roommate for a more peaceful time at Hogwarts, he couldn’t stop a small smile from forming on his face.
Well, maybe he could schedule in some time for friends. He did have to learn social interaction to become Minister of Magic, after all. Yes, he reasoned with himself, that was entirely the reason, not anything else, not at all.