AU-gust 7 - Childhood Friends AU
For this. EDIT: AO3.
There were a half-dozen wizarding families in Ottery St. Catchpole and Percy knew all of them.
The Weasleys and the Fawcetts had been friends for a couple decades. The Lovegoods were nice enough; they had a daughter around Ron’s age, but after the accident, Percy hadn’t seen them around very much. The Diggorys were quiet, though Cedric came over sometimes to play Quidditch with Fred and George.
None of that explained the boy trotting down the very muggle streets brazenly carrying a Cleansweep 7.
Percy darted forward and grabbed his arm before yanking him into the alley between the paper shop and the post office. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, glancing furtively around to see if any muggles had caught a glimpse of them.
The boy scowled and roughly pulled his arm free of Percy’s grasp. “I’m walking,” he said loudly. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to stop you from getting arrested!” Percy said, only barely trying to keep his voice down. “If the muggles see you--”
“So what?” he asked sullenly. “It’s not like they’ll know what they’re seeing.”
“That’s not going to matter to the Aurors,” Percy said, trying to sound knowledgeable. “They’ll cart you off to Azkaban for breaking the Statute of Secrecy.”
“No, they won’t,” the boy said, sounding much too confident for Percy’s comfort, though he did noticeably tighten his grip on his broomstick. “That’s what Obliviators are for.”
Percy drew himself up to his full height and was delighted to find out he was taller by a full two inches. “The Obliviators are there as the last line of defense,” he said, trying to remember what his father had said the last time he’d come home ranting about overeager obliviation. “We have a responsibility to the muggles to keep them from seeing things they shouldn’t see.” Percy struggled to come up with another line. “Obliviation shouldn’t be the easy answer,” he finished in a rush.
The boy’s scowl deepened. “Whatever,” he muttered. “I was just trying to find a spot to practice.”
Percy felt a burst of satisfaction at winning the argument. He opened his mouth to say something along the lines of I knew you’d see it my way, but he stopped. The boy’s shoulders were hunched and he was looking somewhere around Percy’s knees.
Instead, he magnanimously offered, “You could come fly at our house.”
The boy perked up like they hadn’t had an argument at all. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Percy confirmed, feeling better about his impulsive decision already. “We’ve got loads of space. My brothers like flying, too.”
“You don’t?” he asked curiously.
Percy shrugged uncomfortably. “I like to read,” he said, trying his best not to sound awkward or apologetic.
“I only like books if they’re about Quidditch,” the boy confided in him with a small smile.
Percy found himself smiling back. “Quidditch is fun sometimes,” he allowed. “My brothers get really excited about it, though.”
“Who wouldn’t!” the boy exclaimed. “It’s Quidditch!” He beamed.
Percy laughed aloud, then put a hand over his mouth self-consciously. “Anyway. It’s that way.” He pointed toward where the roofline of the Burrow was just hidden behind a group of trees. “Do you want to come over now?”
The boy was almost vibrating with excitement now, clutching his Cleansweep tightly. “Can I?”
Percy laughed again, and this time he didn’t try to hide it. “Yeah. C’mon.” He led the boy down the alley away from the main roads and out of town. “I’m Percy, by the way,” he added as their path transitioned from cobblestone to dirt to grass.
“Oliver,” the boy said. “My family just moved in over there,” he added, gesturing to the hills on the far side of the muggle town.
“I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of you and your broomstick then,” Percy said lightly, trying not to sound too invested in the answer.
“Probably,” Oliver agreed cheerfully. “And don’t worry, Perce, I’ll get you on a broomstick in no time.”
“I can fly,” Percy objected. “I just don’t like to.”
Oliver veered close enough to bump shoulders with him. “We’ll see about that,” he said. And he sounded so determined, Percy didn’t have the heart to tell him no.
He bumped Oliver’s shoulder back and then put a little more space between them. “Just don’t expect miracles,” he cautioned.
Oliver grinned at him again. Percy wasn’t sure what the rest of the afternoon or the rest of the year would bring, but somehow the wait for September 1st didn’t seem quite so long anymore.