Memoirs of an Imperfect Prefect 1/?
Oliver sighed and slumped back against the sofa in his hotel room. He'd gotten a nasty case of food poisoning and the team Healer had insisted he sit out todays game. He hadn't been very happy about it, to say the least, but he'd complied. He'd finally made it off the reserve and he wasn't going to lose his new positon as Puddlemere United's new star keeper by acting like a baby because he couldn't play.
He'd spent most of the day sleeping because of the potions the healer had given him and now it was after Midnight and he couldn't sleep. He'd decided to take advantage of the large telly the suite he was staying in provided and watch a movie or something.
He'd just picked up the remote when the sounds of shouting reached his ears. It sounded as if it was coming from the room accross the hall. He stood up and walked towards the door to hear better.
"You fucking little whore! How dare you say no to me!"A mans voice shouted.
"You paid me for a blow job, anything else is extra!" A second male voice shouted back.
"Don't you fucking walk away from me!"
"I'll do whatever I please! I did what you paid me for and now I'm leaving"
"Like hell you are! You'll leave when I say so!"
"Get your bloody hands off of me!"
"Not until I get my moneys worth out of you!"
The sounds of a struggle reached Olivers ears from beyond the closed doors. He heard glass breaking and the second man cry out in pain. Before Oliver realised what he was doing he had flung open his door and marched accross the hall. The other door was unlocked and he flung that one open as well.
The sight that reached his eyes made Oliver even angrier than he already was. A large beast of a man had the other, much smaller, man pinned to the ground, punching him repeatedly. Oliver rushed the larger man and tackled him to the ground.
"You fucking prick! Pick on someone your own size!" Oliver shouted as he proceded to pound the bastard into the ground.
"Who the fuck are you?" the man yelled as he struggled to block Oliver's blows.
"Someone who hates people like you who like to pick on those smaller than them!"
The man managed to aim a kick to Oliver's groin and the Quidditch player crumpled over in pain. He then wriggled out from under him and got up.
"You care so much about the little slut, you keep him!" he spat before grabbing his jacket and storming out of the room and slamming the door.
Oliver gritted his teeth against the pain in his nether regions and crawled over to where the other man was sill laying, unconscious, on the floor. his face was partially obscured by shaggy bleach blonde hair and the blood coming from a few cuts and what Oliver was sure was a broken nose. Deep purple bruises were already blossoming on the pale skin.
Once he was able to, Oliver stood and scooped the smaller man up into his arms and took him over to his own room. After depositing him on the bed he went to get some supplies to treat the mans injuries. He placed a bowel of warm water and a washcloth on the bedside table along with some antiseptic and a few bandages. He knew he couldn't use magic on the cuts or bruises but he just couldn't leave his nose broken like it was.
He made sure the young man was still unconscious before bringing out his wand and healing his nose. After concealing his wand once more he dipped the washcloth in the water and began gently washing off the blood. After the blood was cleared away he dabbed antiseptic on the cuts and bandaged them.
Once finished, he sat back to take a good look at the man. Long pale lashes fell in an elegant sweep against high cheekbones that were dotted with freckles. Oliver brushed the shaggy hair back from his forehead. As Oliver continued to stare at the man he got a strange feeling that he'd seen him before but he shook it off, figuring he must have seen him in the hotel lobby or something.
He stood and pulled the covers over the man to let him sleep and then went back across the hall. He flicked his wand and cleaned up the mess then looked around to see if anything had been left behind. By the door he found a jacket and since he'd seen the other man leave with his he assumed it belonged to the man now laying in his bed. He hesitated only briefly before deciding to search the pockets for the strangers identity. He found a few condoms ,a pack of cigarette and a lighter, a wadded up fifty , some change and a pair of glasses. It was the glasses that made him pause. He'd seen them before as well.
His heart began to pound faster as he ran back to his room and into the bedroom. He pulled out his wand and healed the cuts and bruises on the mans face, not caring of the consequences. Besides, if his assumptions were correct it wouldn't matter. He vanished the bandages then, with shaking hands, he placed the glasses onto the delicate face.
Olivers heart nearly stopped.
"Oh my God! P..Percy?"