Business Partners, Part 3/?
Title: Business Partners, Part 3/?
Author: cuddlebus
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Percy/Oliver, canon pairings
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: DH spoilers
Summary: Due to a leg injury from the war, Oliver Wood is unable to return to the world of professional Quidditch. He is struggling to make ends meet, until his old Hogwarts roommate, Percy Weasley, makes him a business offer he can't refuse.
Author's Notes: This chapter is much longer than the last two, and I'm actually quite proud of it. I really hope it's as fun to read as it was to write. :]
Until this night, Oliver had never had to deal with the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol. It was a good thing, too, because the pair of officers that showed up to his doorstep were really starting to test his patience.
"So, run me through what happened again, Mr. Hood?" the first officer said, tapping his wand impatiently against a sheet of parchment hovering in front of him.
"It's Wood, and--as I've already said--I came home, the door was open, and the trunk with all of my money in it was gone."
Officer number two was busy lusting after the broomsticks mounted on Oliver's wall, inquiring about prices and models and Oliver's preferred brand of polishing wax.
"Why d'ya reckon they left without all these?" he finally said, once he was through quizzing Oliver on his collection, "It's got to be... at least 3,000 galleons worth."
"More like 4,000," Oliver chimed in helpfully, although he was quite relieved that the broomsticks hadn't been taken. Just a few months ago, they would have been more important to him than the money. He figured they still might be.
"Did you have any charms on the trunk?" the first officer asked conversationally, as he kneeled down at the front door to inspect the hinges. Oliver sighed.
"No," he confessed, "I had opened it earlier and never put the protections charms back on it." A good bit of the blame clearly rested on his shoulders; it would have only taken a few minutes to put the charms back up.
"Ouch," the first officer said sympathetically. Oliver kneeled down next to him, noticing the badge pinned on his robes that read "Phillip Farnsworth, Officer." It was remarkably similar to the once he saw on Percy Weasley earlier that day, but significantly less official-looking.
"So... what can you tell from looking at the door?" he asked, inspecting the door hinges and knob just as intently as Farnsworth himself had.
"Well," Officer Farnsworth said, "my best guess is that this was done by a muggle."
"A muggle?" Oliver was a bit incredulous.
There was a loud clatter from the other side of the room. Oliver and Farnsworth both whirled their heads in that direction, only to find one of Oliver's broomsticks on the ground and the other officer looking very guilty.
Oliver rolled his eyes, and returned the broomstick to its proper place with a flick of his wand.
"Control yourself, Marty," Farnsworth snapped, before returning his attention to Oliver.
"Anyways," he said, "it looks like the lock to your door was picked, perhaps with a hairpin or a piece of wire."
"Wait--what?"
Officer Farnsworth's face screwed up a bit. "Whoever entered your house did not use magic to open the door," he said impatiently. Oliver nodded in understanding and Farnsworth continued.
"A muggle also would not have realized the value of your broomsticks, which would explain why they're still here."
"Yeah," the second officer, Marty, chimed in with a snort, "The only thing that muggles use them for is sweeping! Can you believe it?" He laughed heartily at himself.
"Makes sense," Oliver said, ignoring Marty and speaking directly to Farnsworth, "but... what is a muggle going to do with a trunk full of Galleons?"
"Speaking as a muggle-born myself," Farnsworth said, scribbling quickly and sloppily on to his parchment, which was still hovering in front of him, "I can say that any muggle would be delighted to find a trunk full of gold coins."
Oliver had to admit it made sense, and he was beginning to feel more and more careless and stupid as he listened to Farnsworth, who now seemed dead-set on explaining the mind of a Muggle criminal to him.
"Most muggle thieves are after electronics--televisions, computers, things of that sort," he said, "so he walks in this flat, finds that there are no electronics, and starts looking around for anything else that could possibly be of value--jewelry and things like that. Checks under the bed, and what do you know? He makes off like king."
Now Oliver was feeling really dumb, considering Farnsworth had lost him at "electricity." He figured he wasn't quite as dumb as Officer Farnsworth's partner Marty, but he was almost there.
"I'm afraid this is now out of our jurisdiction," Farnsworth said. "You can contact the Muggle police, but they might be more suspicious of you and your flat than whoever could have stolen your trunk."
"Yeah," Oliver agreed. "Well, thanks for the help, Officer Farnsworth."
"Sorry about the money," Farnsworth said, briskly rolling up the parchment and stuffing it into the pocket of his robes.
"You may want to start using Repello Muggletum," he offered helpfully as he and Marty left.
"Especially if you're gonna keep on living here!" Marty shouted as they descended the stairs, "I can't imagine living in a Muggle apartment... so many oddities..."
Oliver swore he could almost hear Officer Farnsworth's eyes rolling.
He didn't really know what to do after the officers left, so he sat on his couch--willing the pain in his leg to recede. There was a knot in his stomach, twisting ominously as one question pounded itself firmly into his conscience: "Where do I go from here?"
He resolved to go to Hogwarts one more time, simply for the sake of networking. Finding work and a steady source of income was now Oliver's number one priority, and a castle full of old classmates seemed like a great place to start.
---
He woke up too early the next morning--having only just drifted off to sleep in the wee hours of the morning--with a crick in his neck and sleep still stuck in his eyes. It took a moment for the previous night to come to him, but when it did his heart sank to his intestines and the knot in his stomach reappeared. A brief look around the flat showed him that everything was still very grey.
When he stood, the pain in his leg nearly sent him back on his ass.
He couldn't help but be a little amused by his truly unfortunate luck since the war ended. As his mum would say: "When it rains, it pours." It would make a nice sentiment, perhaps stitched into a pillow for this very sofa or framed and placed on the wall next to his brooms. He joked briefly with himself about having it tattooed--perhaps on his bum leg?
After a shower and a morning cup of coffee (which he'd grown to love after near constant exposure by Puddlemere United's assistant coach), Oliver apparated with a loud crack to Hogsmeade.
In the throng of grey people waiting for the carriages, Oliver's eyes were instantly drawn to a pinprick of orange. Percy Weasley's hair. He thought briefly of approaching his old roommate, but realized he didn't really have anything to talk about. He couldn't exactly walk up to him demanding to know why his hair dared to be colorful.
He opted instead to lean against a rather large bench adjacent to the street, taking the weight off of his still-twinging leg. It seemed like there were more Ministry workers mixed in with the volunteers than previous days. Percy Weasley was one of them, obviously, but Oliver could recognize the others because their formal robes were so dark they appeared black. Most of the volunteers weren't wearing robes; instead, they were dressed in clothes fit to get dirty.
The thestral-drawn carriages arrived one-by-one, very slowly reducing the small crowd. Oliver sat on one of the last carriages to arrive, next to Hannah Abbott--a young Hufflepuff girl whom he vaguely recognized. He noticed she was staring intently at the thestral in front of them.
Ah, so she had been at the battle.
They didn't speak. Hannah avoided eye contact and seemed rather reserved, but that was fine with Oliver. He fantasized about Quidditch, and wondered what it might be like to play the game on the backs of thestrals. Much slower, surely, because the thestrals would be so much more difficult to maneuver around a pitch. Their huge wings might be an issue too; it wouldn't be any good for the thestrals to be hit by bludgers.
As the carriage rolled to a stop in front of Hogwarts, he concluded that Quidditch was played on broomsticks for a reason. Multiple reasons, actually.
He entered the Great Hall, and was taken aback by the sheer number of people milling about. There were probably a couple hundred in the Great Hall alone. He chalked it up to the fact that Professor--Headmaster--McGonagall was determined to have the school reopened by September... it was nearing July already. Again, there was that tiny dot of red moving about on the far side of the hall.
Oliver spotted a bunch of Gryffindors--Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Katie, and quickly rushed over before they scattered. He wouldn't mind finding someone to work with today, instead of working alone like he had yesterday. Katie beamed when she saw him.
As he approached the small group, he heard a familiar voice roar, "Hey, you're that bloke from last night!"
It was Marty, the incompetent officer who showed up at his flat with Farnsworth the previous night. He was in stiff-looking dress robes and his hair was slicked back.
"Hi... Marty," Oliver offered feebly.
"You ever find your money, mate?" Marty asked loudly, clapping Oliver on the back like they were old chums. Katie and the other Gryffindors were eyeing Marty with curious expressions.
"In the eight hours since I saw you last?" Oliver asked with a hint of venom, "Unfortunately, no."
But Marty wasn't listening, and had caught Katie staring at him. "Is this your friend?" he asked Katie, gesturing to Oliver. Katie jumped a little bit but finally said, "Um, yes, he is."
"He got robbed by a muggle last night, you know."
Oliver groaned. Katie gave him a concerned look, "Really, Oliver?"
Dean and Seamus chuckled. "A muggle?" Seamus said incredulously, "What'd he do, kick the door down?"
"It was nothing, really," Oliver said, a rather convincing lie--at least he thought so. Marty balked.
"Nothing?! Wiped you clean, is what I heard!"
Thankfully, Neville seemed to pick up on Oliver's discomfort and announced to the group, "We should go up to the common room and get started, yeah?"
Before Oliver could walk away, Marty grabbed the hem of his sleeve. "Wish me luck," he whispered conspiratorially, glancing furtively to his left and right, "I'm applying for a security officer post here at Hogwarts. Better benefits." Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver caught a flash of orange walk right past him. Percy's robes brushed his shoulder as he hurried by.
Had he heard?
Oliver nodded mindlessly to Marty, brushed him off, and then turned to follow Neville and Katie. For some reason, the idea of Percy knowing about the break-in embarrassed him much more than the fact that Katie, Neville, Seamus, and Dean had found out... perhaps it was because Percy seemed so successful. He probably had more money than he knew what to do with.
And Percy would definitely never make a careless mistake with his money, like Oliver had. In fact, Oliver was certain that if they had still been students, Percy would have reprimanded him and then given him the silent treatment for a few days.
He shook all thoughts of Percy out of his head, and struck up a conversation with Katie.
"Is everything okay?" she mouthed quietly, as the pair began to lag behind the rest of the group. She was referring to the robbery, of course, and Oliver nodded his head vigorously.
"I'm fine," Oliver replied, "Gonna find a job. Getting back on my feet shouldn't be too hard."
She gave him a sad smile; after he was let go from Puddlemere, she was one of the first people he told.
"What about you?" he asked, steering the subject in a different direction. "How've you been, Katie?" They hadn't really spoken since Oliver floo-called her about Puddlemere.
She shrugged, "Just getting back into the swing of things, I suppose. Angelina and I have taken over George Weasley's store for the time being. Until he's ready to, you know..."
Oliver nodded, and Katie continued, "Losing lots of money, George is, for putting his faith in us. Ever since they gave me that dreadful nosebleed nougat a couple years ago, I haven't been too keen on pranks."
"But Angelina's enjoying herself, in spite of everything," she added with a tiny, sly smile. Maybe it was a sign that normality was slowly returning, that they could discuss George without immediately becoming overwhelmed with grief over Fred.
"Oh get a room, you two," Dean joked from a few paces ahead of them. Katie laughed and Oliver grinned.
It was nice to be among friends, a good distraction from all the bad luck that seemed to be following Oliver lately.
---
Over the course of the workday, Neville mentioned that the reason Hogwarts was so packed today was because they were having a "job fair" of sorts... searching for qualified wizards and witches to fill the many available positions. Oliver thought briefly about checking it out, but he certainly wasn't qualified by any stretch of the word.
He figured he would try to catch McGonagall sometime, though, and warn her about Marty.
The group spent the day working in the Gryffindor girls' dormitories, repairing bedposts and fractured ceilings and cracked bathroom tiles. This part of the castle hadn't even seen battle, but so much quaking and rumbling and exploding had occurred that there was still extensive damage.
Oliver's limp was a little more pronounced at the end of the day. As soon as Katie noticed, she cast a numbing spell. It didn't work, no spells did, but Oliver appreciated the thought all the same.
As the group entered the Great Hall, they all scattered. Dean and Seamus wandered off with a few Ravenclaws and Oliver saw Neville speaking with Hannah Abbott, the quiet girl he sat next to on the carriage earlier. Katie tracked down Alicia Spinnet almost immediately, and Oliver could tell from the way they were huddled close and whispering that they were being secretive--gossiping about something, no doubt. Looking out at the Great Hall, it seemed almost like he was a student again.
And once again, he spotted Percy's red hair, bobbing up and down lightly as he maneuvered his way through the Great Hall.
Argus Filch began making rounds about the hall, barking that the carriages had arrived, and it was time to leave. Immediately, people began pouring outside of the Great Hall. Oliver followed, and sat under a tree near the lake for about half an hour, watching the crowd slowly die down as they left in Hogsmeade-bound, thestral-drawn carriages.
He climbed into one of the last carriages to arrive. The carriage was vacant but for him, for the time being, and the thestral was taking its first step towards Hogsmeade when Percy Weasley's voice yelled, "Wait up, please!"
He was rushing, two large tomes in his hands, towards the carriage--looking quite frazzled. Oliver spaced out a bit, staring at Percy's hair, before snapping out of it and clamoring to the far side of the carriage so Percy could leap in. The thestral had never stopped moving.
With a deep sigh, Percy fell into his seat and dropped the books between himself and Oliver.
"Hello, Percy," Oliver said, a bit sheepishly. Percy jumped a bit, "Oh, Oliver! I didn't realize it was you!"
Their conversation the day before had been stilted and awkward, and now to be thrown into close proximity again made Oliver feel even more awkward. He glanced at the books Percy was hauling with him. One, overly large and leather-bound, was titled Owning Your Own Business, A Practical Guide for Industrious Wizards and the other, a bit more modern-looking, was called Harmony in Business Partnerships: How to Avoid Disasters (And Unspeakable Curses) in Your Entrepreneurial Endeavors.
Hm. Looks like Percy was planning on starting a business. Almost as soon as the thought entered Oliver's mind, Percy's mouth opened to speak.
"I actually wanted to talk to you about something," he said, quickly, a little red in the face.
Oliver's curiousity took over almost instantly, but he simply said, "Well, I guess this worked out, then?"
Percy nodded, then glanced at the books.
"You mentioned, yesterday," he said, one hand reaching up from his lap to fiddle with his glasses, "that a leg injury was keeping you from playing Quidditch."
Oliver nodded. "That's right."
"... and," Percy confessed, "I hope you don't think I was eavesdropping, but I heard this morning that your house was broken into?"
"My flat, yeah," Oliver said, embarrassed.
"And all of your money was taken?"
"... That's right," Oliver admitted, and now he was really wondering where Percy was going with this.
"Well, I have a...," Percy took a breath, then sat up straight and suddenly seemed to exhude confidence, "a business proposition for you."
"Oh," Oliver said, speechless. He was shocked, not sure what to expect but he definitely wasn't expecting that. "Percy, I'm not... good... with numbers, or finances--obviously. Quidditch is the only work I've ever done."
"Exactly!" Percy said, excitedly, and Oliver could see cogs turning behind Percy's blue eyes.
Percy's blue eyes. Sweet Merlin.
Oliver was floored, and his mouth hung open for a few seconds before he finally regained control of himself.
"Um, what do you mean?" he asked, trying to avoid outright staring at the new color that had just arrived on the scene.
"I want to open a Quidditch supply store," Percy stated, factually, "I bought a building in Hogsmeade, it's right next to The Hog's Head, it's perfect."
"Why a Quidditch supply store?" Oliver asked, "Why not a... a book shop or something?"
Percy looked a little peeved at that comment, but answered nonetheless.
"Hogsmeade already has a book shop," he said haughtily, "but what it doesn't have is a vendor to provide goals, uniforms, quaffles, bludgers, snitches, footwear, and so on, to Hogwarts!"
"I thought Hogwarts used Quality Quidditch Supplies, in Diagon Alley?" Oliver asked, suspiciously.
"You haven't been to Diagon Alley lately, have you?" Percy said, "Quality Quidditch Supplies is gone. The store is completely destroyed and the owners fled to Italy before the war. No one's heard from them since."
Oliver didn't know exactly when all the awkwardness between them dissipated, but it had, and was replaced easily with excited conversation. Oliver had to admit it made a lot of sense, what Percy was saying... but he didn't want Percy to be doing this out of pity, just because of Oliver's situation.
"Tomorrow's Saturday," Percy said, a hint of pleading in his voice, "I usually go in to work, but I'll take the day off. I'm not trying to force you into anything, but... would you at least come and take a look at the building with me tomorrow?"
Confronted with red hair and blue eyes, the two mysterious colors in his otherwise grey world, Oliver couldn't find it in his heart to say no.
Author: cuddlebus
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Percy/Oliver, canon pairings
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: DH spoilers
Summary: Due to a leg injury from the war, Oliver Wood is unable to return to the world of professional Quidditch. He is struggling to make ends meet, until his old Hogwarts roommate, Percy Weasley, makes him a business offer he can't refuse.
Author's Notes: This chapter is much longer than the last two, and I'm actually quite proud of it. I really hope it's as fun to read as it was to write. :]
Until this night, Oliver had never had to deal with the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol. It was a good thing, too, because the pair of officers that showed up to his doorstep were really starting to test his patience.
"So, run me through what happened again, Mr. Hood?" the first officer said, tapping his wand impatiently against a sheet of parchment hovering in front of him.
"It's Wood, and--as I've already said--I came home, the door was open, and the trunk with all of my money in it was gone."
Officer number two was busy lusting after the broomsticks mounted on Oliver's wall, inquiring about prices and models and Oliver's preferred brand of polishing wax.
"Why d'ya reckon they left without all these?" he finally said, once he was through quizzing Oliver on his collection, "It's got to be... at least 3,000 galleons worth."
"More like 4,000," Oliver chimed in helpfully, although he was quite relieved that the broomsticks hadn't been taken. Just a few months ago, they would have been more important to him than the money. He figured they still might be.
"Did you have any charms on the trunk?" the first officer asked conversationally, as he kneeled down at the front door to inspect the hinges. Oliver sighed.
"No," he confessed, "I had opened it earlier and never put the protections charms back on it." A good bit of the blame clearly rested on his shoulders; it would have only taken a few minutes to put the charms back up.
"Ouch," the first officer said sympathetically. Oliver kneeled down next to him, noticing the badge pinned on his robes that read "Phillip Farnsworth, Officer." It was remarkably similar to the once he saw on Percy Weasley earlier that day, but significantly less official-looking.
"So... what can you tell from looking at the door?" he asked, inspecting the door hinges and knob just as intently as Farnsworth himself had.
"Well," Officer Farnsworth said, "my best guess is that this was done by a muggle."
"A muggle?" Oliver was a bit incredulous.
There was a loud clatter from the other side of the room. Oliver and Farnsworth both whirled their heads in that direction, only to find one of Oliver's broomsticks on the ground and the other officer looking very guilty.
Oliver rolled his eyes, and returned the broomstick to its proper place with a flick of his wand.
"Control yourself, Marty," Farnsworth snapped, before returning his attention to Oliver.
"Anyways," he said, "it looks like the lock to your door was picked, perhaps with a hairpin or a piece of wire."
"Wait--what?"
Officer Farnsworth's face screwed up a bit. "Whoever entered your house did not use magic to open the door," he said impatiently. Oliver nodded in understanding and Farnsworth continued.
"A muggle also would not have realized the value of your broomsticks, which would explain why they're still here."
"Yeah," the second officer, Marty, chimed in with a snort, "The only thing that muggles use them for is sweeping! Can you believe it?" He laughed heartily at himself.
"Makes sense," Oliver said, ignoring Marty and speaking directly to Farnsworth, "but... what is a muggle going to do with a trunk full of Galleons?"
"Speaking as a muggle-born myself," Farnsworth said, scribbling quickly and sloppily on to his parchment, which was still hovering in front of him, "I can say that any muggle would be delighted to find a trunk full of gold coins."
Oliver had to admit it made sense, and he was beginning to feel more and more careless and stupid as he listened to Farnsworth, who now seemed dead-set on explaining the mind of a Muggle criminal to him.
"Most muggle thieves are after electronics--televisions, computers, things of that sort," he said, "so he walks in this flat, finds that there are no electronics, and starts looking around for anything else that could possibly be of value--jewelry and things like that. Checks under the bed, and what do you know? He makes off like king."
Now Oliver was feeling really dumb, considering Farnsworth had lost him at "electricity." He figured he wasn't quite as dumb as Officer Farnsworth's partner Marty, but he was almost there.
"I'm afraid this is now out of our jurisdiction," Farnsworth said. "You can contact the Muggle police, but they might be more suspicious of you and your flat than whoever could have stolen your trunk."
"Yeah," Oliver agreed. "Well, thanks for the help, Officer Farnsworth."
"Sorry about the money," Farnsworth said, briskly rolling up the parchment and stuffing it into the pocket of his robes.
"You may want to start using Repello Muggletum," he offered helpfully as he and Marty left.
"Especially if you're gonna keep on living here!" Marty shouted as they descended the stairs, "I can't imagine living in a Muggle apartment... so many oddities..."
Oliver swore he could almost hear Officer Farnsworth's eyes rolling.
He didn't really know what to do after the officers left, so he sat on his couch--willing the pain in his leg to recede. There was a knot in his stomach, twisting ominously as one question pounded itself firmly into his conscience: "Where do I go from here?"
He resolved to go to Hogwarts one more time, simply for the sake of networking. Finding work and a steady source of income was now Oliver's number one priority, and a castle full of old classmates seemed like a great place to start.
---
He woke up too early the next morning--having only just drifted off to sleep in the wee hours of the morning--with a crick in his neck and sleep still stuck in his eyes. It took a moment for the previous night to come to him, but when it did his heart sank to his intestines and the knot in his stomach reappeared. A brief look around the flat showed him that everything was still very grey.
When he stood, the pain in his leg nearly sent him back on his ass.
He couldn't help but be a little amused by his truly unfortunate luck since the war ended. As his mum would say: "When it rains, it pours." It would make a nice sentiment, perhaps stitched into a pillow for this very sofa or framed and placed on the wall next to his brooms. He joked briefly with himself about having it tattooed--perhaps on his bum leg?
After a shower and a morning cup of coffee (which he'd grown to love after near constant exposure by Puddlemere United's assistant coach), Oliver apparated with a loud crack to Hogsmeade.
In the throng of grey people waiting for the carriages, Oliver's eyes were instantly drawn to a pinprick of orange. Percy Weasley's hair. He thought briefly of approaching his old roommate, but realized he didn't really have anything to talk about. He couldn't exactly walk up to him demanding to know why his hair dared to be colorful.
He opted instead to lean against a rather large bench adjacent to the street, taking the weight off of his still-twinging leg. It seemed like there were more Ministry workers mixed in with the volunteers than previous days. Percy Weasley was one of them, obviously, but Oliver could recognize the others because their formal robes were so dark they appeared black. Most of the volunteers weren't wearing robes; instead, they were dressed in clothes fit to get dirty.
The thestral-drawn carriages arrived one-by-one, very slowly reducing the small crowd. Oliver sat on one of the last carriages to arrive, next to Hannah Abbott--a young Hufflepuff girl whom he vaguely recognized. He noticed she was staring intently at the thestral in front of them.
Ah, so she had been at the battle.
They didn't speak. Hannah avoided eye contact and seemed rather reserved, but that was fine with Oliver. He fantasized about Quidditch, and wondered what it might be like to play the game on the backs of thestrals. Much slower, surely, because the thestrals would be so much more difficult to maneuver around a pitch. Their huge wings might be an issue too; it wouldn't be any good for the thestrals to be hit by bludgers.
As the carriage rolled to a stop in front of Hogwarts, he concluded that Quidditch was played on broomsticks for a reason. Multiple reasons, actually.
He entered the Great Hall, and was taken aback by the sheer number of people milling about. There were probably a couple hundred in the Great Hall alone. He chalked it up to the fact that Professor--Headmaster--McGonagall was determined to have the school reopened by September... it was nearing July already. Again, there was that tiny dot of red moving about on the far side of the hall.
Oliver spotted a bunch of Gryffindors--Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Katie, and quickly rushed over before they scattered. He wouldn't mind finding someone to work with today, instead of working alone like he had yesterday. Katie beamed when she saw him.
As he approached the small group, he heard a familiar voice roar, "Hey, you're that bloke from last night!"
It was Marty, the incompetent officer who showed up at his flat with Farnsworth the previous night. He was in stiff-looking dress robes and his hair was slicked back.
"Hi... Marty," Oliver offered feebly.
"You ever find your money, mate?" Marty asked loudly, clapping Oliver on the back like they were old chums. Katie and the other Gryffindors were eyeing Marty with curious expressions.
"In the eight hours since I saw you last?" Oliver asked with a hint of venom, "Unfortunately, no."
But Marty wasn't listening, and had caught Katie staring at him. "Is this your friend?" he asked Katie, gesturing to Oliver. Katie jumped a little bit but finally said, "Um, yes, he is."
"He got robbed by a muggle last night, you know."
Oliver groaned. Katie gave him a concerned look, "Really, Oliver?"
Dean and Seamus chuckled. "A muggle?" Seamus said incredulously, "What'd he do, kick the door down?"
"It was nothing, really," Oliver said, a rather convincing lie--at least he thought so. Marty balked.
"Nothing?! Wiped you clean, is what I heard!"
Thankfully, Neville seemed to pick up on Oliver's discomfort and announced to the group, "We should go up to the common room and get started, yeah?"
Before Oliver could walk away, Marty grabbed the hem of his sleeve. "Wish me luck," he whispered conspiratorially, glancing furtively to his left and right, "I'm applying for a security officer post here at Hogwarts. Better benefits." Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver caught a flash of orange walk right past him. Percy's robes brushed his shoulder as he hurried by.
Had he heard?
Oliver nodded mindlessly to Marty, brushed him off, and then turned to follow Neville and Katie. For some reason, the idea of Percy knowing about the break-in embarrassed him much more than the fact that Katie, Neville, Seamus, and Dean had found out... perhaps it was because Percy seemed so successful. He probably had more money than he knew what to do with.
And Percy would definitely never make a careless mistake with his money, like Oliver had. In fact, Oliver was certain that if they had still been students, Percy would have reprimanded him and then given him the silent treatment for a few days.
He shook all thoughts of Percy out of his head, and struck up a conversation with Katie.
"Is everything okay?" she mouthed quietly, as the pair began to lag behind the rest of the group. She was referring to the robbery, of course, and Oliver nodded his head vigorously.
"I'm fine," Oliver replied, "Gonna find a job. Getting back on my feet shouldn't be too hard."
She gave him a sad smile; after he was let go from Puddlemere, she was one of the first people he told.
"What about you?" he asked, steering the subject in a different direction. "How've you been, Katie?" They hadn't really spoken since Oliver floo-called her about Puddlemere.
She shrugged, "Just getting back into the swing of things, I suppose. Angelina and I have taken over George Weasley's store for the time being. Until he's ready to, you know..."
Oliver nodded, and Katie continued, "Losing lots of money, George is, for putting his faith in us. Ever since they gave me that dreadful nosebleed nougat a couple years ago, I haven't been too keen on pranks."
"But Angelina's enjoying herself, in spite of everything," she added with a tiny, sly smile. Maybe it was a sign that normality was slowly returning, that they could discuss George without immediately becoming overwhelmed with grief over Fred.
"Oh get a room, you two," Dean joked from a few paces ahead of them. Katie laughed and Oliver grinned.
It was nice to be among friends, a good distraction from all the bad luck that seemed to be following Oliver lately.
---
Over the course of the workday, Neville mentioned that the reason Hogwarts was so packed today was because they were having a "job fair" of sorts... searching for qualified wizards and witches to fill the many available positions. Oliver thought briefly about checking it out, but he certainly wasn't qualified by any stretch of the word.
He figured he would try to catch McGonagall sometime, though, and warn her about Marty.
The group spent the day working in the Gryffindor girls' dormitories, repairing bedposts and fractured ceilings and cracked bathroom tiles. This part of the castle hadn't even seen battle, but so much quaking and rumbling and exploding had occurred that there was still extensive damage.
Oliver's limp was a little more pronounced at the end of the day. As soon as Katie noticed, she cast a numbing spell. It didn't work, no spells did, but Oliver appreciated the thought all the same.
As the group entered the Great Hall, they all scattered. Dean and Seamus wandered off with a few Ravenclaws and Oliver saw Neville speaking with Hannah Abbott, the quiet girl he sat next to on the carriage earlier. Katie tracked down Alicia Spinnet almost immediately, and Oliver could tell from the way they were huddled close and whispering that they were being secretive--gossiping about something, no doubt. Looking out at the Great Hall, it seemed almost like he was a student again.
And once again, he spotted Percy's red hair, bobbing up and down lightly as he maneuvered his way through the Great Hall.
Argus Filch began making rounds about the hall, barking that the carriages had arrived, and it was time to leave. Immediately, people began pouring outside of the Great Hall. Oliver followed, and sat under a tree near the lake for about half an hour, watching the crowd slowly die down as they left in Hogsmeade-bound, thestral-drawn carriages.
He climbed into one of the last carriages to arrive. The carriage was vacant but for him, for the time being, and the thestral was taking its first step towards Hogsmeade when Percy Weasley's voice yelled, "Wait up, please!"
He was rushing, two large tomes in his hands, towards the carriage--looking quite frazzled. Oliver spaced out a bit, staring at Percy's hair, before snapping out of it and clamoring to the far side of the carriage so Percy could leap in. The thestral had never stopped moving.
With a deep sigh, Percy fell into his seat and dropped the books between himself and Oliver.
"Hello, Percy," Oliver said, a bit sheepishly. Percy jumped a bit, "Oh, Oliver! I didn't realize it was you!"
Their conversation the day before had been stilted and awkward, and now to be thrown into close proximity again made Oliver feel even more awkward. He glanced at the books Percy was hauling with him. One, overly large and leather-bound, was titled Owning Your Own Business, A Practical Guide for Industrious Wizards and the other, a bit more modern-looking, was called Harmony in Business Partnerships: How to Avoid Disasters (And Unspeakable Curses) in Your Entrepreneurial Endeavors.
Hm. Looks like Percy was planning on starting a business. Almost as soon as the thought entered Oliver's mind, Percy's mouth opened to speak.
"I actually wanted to talk to you about something," he said, quickly, a little red in the face.
Oliver's curiousity took over almost instantly, but he simply said, "Well, I guess this worked out, then?"
Percy nodded, then glanced at the books.
"You mentioned, yesterday," he said, one hand reaching up from his lap to fiddle with his glasses, "that a leg injury was keeping you from playing Quidditch."
Oliver nodded. "That's right."
"... and," Percy confessed, "I hope you don't think I was eavesdropping, but I heard this morning that your house was broken into?"
"My flat, yeah," Oliver said, embarrassed.
"And all of your money was taken?"
"... That's right," Oliver admitted, and now he was really wondering where Percy was going with this.
"Well, I have a...," Percy took a breath, then sat up straight and suddenly seemed to exhude confidence, "a business proposition for you."
"Oh," Oliver said, speechless. He was shocked, not sure what to expect but he definitely wasn't expecting that. "Percy, I'm not... good... with numbers, or finances--obviously. Quidditch is the only work I've ever done."
"Exactly!" Percy said, excitedly, and Oliver could see cogs turning behind Percy's blue eyes.
Percy's blue eyes. Sweet Merlin.
Oliver was floored, and his mouth hung open for a few seconds before he finally regained control of himself.
"Um, what do you mean?" he asked, trying to avoid outright staring at the new color that had just arrived on the scene.
"I want to open a Quidditch supply store," Percy stated, factually, "I bought a building in Hogsmeade, it's right next to The Hog's Head, it's perfect."
"Why a Quidditch supply store?" Oliver asked, "Why not a... a book shop or something?"
Percy looked a little peeved at that comment, but answered nonetheless.
"Hogsmeade already has a book shop," he said haughtily, "but what it doesn't have is a vendor to provide goals, uniforms, quaffles, bludgers, snitches, footwear, and so on, to Hogwarts!"
"I thought Hogwarts used Quality Quidditch Supplies, in Diagon Alley?" Oliver asked, suspiciously.
"You haven't been to Diagon Alley lately, have you?" Percy said, "Quality Quidditch Supplies is gone. The store is completely destroyed and the owners fled to Italy before the war. No one's heard from them since."
Oliver didn't know exactly when all the awkwardness between them dissipated, but it had, and was replaced easily with excited conversation. Oliver had to admit it made a lot of sense, what Percy was saying... but he didn't want Percy to be doing this out of pity, just because of Oliver's situation.
"Tomorrow's Saturday," Percy said, a hint of pleading in his voice, "I usually go in to work, but I'll take the day off. I'm not trying to force you into anything, but... would you at least come and take a look at the building with me tomorrow?"
Confronted with red hair and blue eyes, the two mysterious colors in his otherwise grey world, Oliver couldn't find it in his heart to say no.