Chapter Text
Percy’s eyes sharpened as McGonagall explained the situation. Extra credit was always good to have, and people were breaking rules, besides, so even without the extra credit Percy would have taken the charge seriously.
Students from all houses were sneaking out of bed, and none of the staff had been able to discern where they were going, or were even quite sure which students it was. It fell, then, to the prefects to investigate their own houses in the hope that they might discover the culprits.
Percy brewed himself a wide-eye potion and settled into the Common Room for the evening with his transfiguration notes, intending to keep watch over the portrait hole. However, around midnight, he found himself yawning, and quite unreasonably for the potion he’d consumed, fell asleep. When he awoke it was morning, a quick headcount of the boys’ dormitories showed that everyone was accounted for, and Percy had failed at his task.
The next night, when Percy again began to tire despite another dose of wide-eye potion, he began to be suspicious. Quickly, he disillusioned himself and then cast a bubblehead charm. He then watched, fascinated, as the few people left in the Common Room seemed to doze off. Percy could still feel the beginnings of sleepiness, but he managed to keep his eyes open, and a few minutes later, people began to emerge from both staircases.
All of his younger siblings, of course, were among the number, as well as Harry Potter. There was also Oliver Wood and the remaining members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, as well as a couple of younger students. Percy shook his head in disappointment as he watched, and then stared as he realised that a gaping hole had opened in the floor, underneath where one of the armchairs usually sat. The delinquents were dropping into it one by one, and Percy hurried to slip through it before the last person inevitably closed it after them. He tucked himself into the hole beside Ginny and closed his eyes as he dropped.
He landed on a cushioning charm, and hastily scrambled up and away from the landing site before someone fell on him. They were in a long, dimly lit corridor, and those who had come through before him were already striding along it, beginning to talk animatedly of Quidditch as they did. Percy followed them, and eventually they came to a cavernous room with a sheer cliff just inside it.
Percy gulped at the chasm, but none of the players hesitated as they walked towards it, each one grabbing one of a number of brooms that were lying on the ground and and mounting it as they reached the edge. Percy hated flying, and he wondered if he had enough already to report to McGonagall, but no: he hadn’t seen how they had opened the secret passageway, and he still didn’t know where they were going, and…he swallowed. He had to find out. In a surge of resolve, he pulled himself onto the tail of Oliver’s broom, the last one leaving the ground.
“Feeling slow today, Oliver?” Angelina called back, as Oliver lagged behind the others.
“I think something’s up with my broom,” Oliver said.
“Sure,” Alicia laughed. “Better get your arse in gear before we get to the pitch!”
“Oh I will!” Oliver called back. He leaned forward, and the broom put on a burst of speed.
Percy yelped, and Oliver’s head snapped back to scan the air. Percy clamped his mouth shut and stayed very still, clinging for dear life to the broom, and eventually Oliver turned back around just in time to duck through an archway.
They emerged into another vast cavern, and Percy goggled at the sight. Three Quidditch hoops stood at either end, and the ground was covered in a thick, spongy-looking moss. Oliver landed near one set of goalposts, and Percy let go of the broom with a sigh of relief, hurriedly backing away as Oliver began to cast diagnostic charms at the broom. He frowned at it, then warily slung his leg over it again and took off.
Percy retreated to the edge of the pitch, watching as the Gryffindor team took up their positions. A few minutes later, more flyers emerged from a tunnel across the way, and Percy recognised several members of the Hufflepuff team. Deciding there wasn’t much more he could do for the mystery right now, he settled himself against the cavern wall to watch.
As much as he disliked flying, he’d always enjoyed watching Quidditch. The interplay of the different balls and roles was captivating, being able to watch the Quaffle or the Bludgers or search for the Snitch meant there was always something interesting to focus on, and that wasn’t even getting to the players themselves, who routinely pulled off dips and dives and manoeuvres that made Percy’s head spin but his heart thrill to watch.
His gaze went back to the goalposts, where Oliver was waiting, ready, even though the Quaffle and all six chasers were currently at the other end of the pitch. Ever since Oliver had made the team in second year, Percy had loved watching him, specifically. He was so steady, looping back and forth in front of the goalposts in a pattern so smooth it was clearly designed but still wasn’t predictable, his broad shoulders stretching his muscles taut as he waited for an attack. When the opposing Chasers finally turned the game towards his end, he didn’t waver, only increased the tightness of his turns, pouncing fiercely on the Quaffle whenever it came close to the hoops and flipping it speedily on its way to one of the Gryffindor Chasers, his eyes glinting in satisfaction as he watched the game move away.
Eventually someone called, “Time!” Percy glanced at his watch and was startled to find it was nearly morning already. He hurried back over to Oliver, who had landed and was checking over his gear beside the goalposts. He cast a non-verbal feather-light charm on himself before climbing onto the back of Oliver’s broom.
Oliver flew more slowly on the way back, but he kept glancing behind him as they flew, and Percy wondered if he was about to be caught. Oliver didn’t say anything though, and when they made it back to the Common Room, everyone trooped off to their beds with no fuss. Percy ran ahead to his, not wanting to be caught out of it, and slipped inside the curtains he had left shut the night before. A few moments later, he heard Oliver come in. Percy knew he should try to take advantage of the couple hours he had had left to sleep, but he couldn’t. He lay awake staring at his canopy, thinking about how to open the secret passage, how to prove its existence to Professor McGonagall, but more than anything about Oliver’s face, a scant few inches from his own, searching the air behind him as he flew.