This was written in 2004, so I apologize for any and all non-canon references. Also, I apologize for all the horrible grammatical errors. I've gone through and fixed a few, but I didn't want to change to much of the ton of the original fic. It was written in 2004, and I would like to keep it that way.

Lets say this is set some where during the fifth book.

This is truly nothing but fluff. Fluffy fluff fluff.

I could go on for a long time about all the cute little moments Oliver and I had, leading up to our getting together, but that would take far to long, and to be honest, it's really not my style. You see, back then, I thought he was straight, and now, looking back on it, there were so many lost opportunities, so lets just avoid them all together.

But I digress, let us move on now, to how I ended up with Oliver Wood.

Tears were being choked back as I entered the apartment. I was trying not to shake. My relater was showing me around the place, but I just couldn't comprehend what he was saying, so I tuned him out. The technique had been mastered years ago, while still living with the twins. I sniffed at the thought. Here I was, looking at a flat in muggle London, far away from the serene chaos of my home life. I wanted more than anything for things to go back to the way they were, before the Mr. Crouch scandal, before being interrogated, before being labeled as a conspirator and fired from my job. Before.... Before I began to be fear my family. Fear them and the over powering wave of guilt that always surged through me at the simplest thought of them.

Papers were forced into my hands, and with barley a once over, I signed on the dotted line. The apartment was now mine. I was handed a key, and the other man left, leaving me alone in my misery. It seemed I had gone deaf. I could here nothing. Not the sound of the busy street below my window, nor the mechanical buzz that surrounds all muggle areas. Nothing. Nothing but the sound of my tears.

I was all moved in. It had been a week and a day since I bought the place, and I was really starting to regret it. Bad neighborhood. Mum would rip out my spleen with a rusty knife if she ever found out I was living here. I turned the key in the lock and headed towards the elevator. The place only had five floors, but heights where never some thing I went out of my way to experiance. I pressed the down button and waited for a few minuets, but nothing happened. I pressed it again, and I heard a distinct 'ding' and the doors opened to reveal, a very dirty elevator shaft with no elevator. I sighed. Now in addition to the height, there was the rusted and creaky staircase to deal with. But I had to be at work in fifteen minuets, so I reluctantly trudged down the stairs and out into the smoggy air of the London side walk.

The sun was out, but I was still too numb to feel it. I pulled my coat closer around myself in a futile effort to keep warm and made my way by foot to work.

I was late again, I knew it, my co-workers knew it, and now all the customers at the muggle bank knew it. I saw my boss s mouth move as he yelled at me, but nothing reached my ears. I wondered vaguely if I should go and see a doctor.

Diagon Alley yielded no comfort to me. I went hoping it would brighten my damp spirit, but all it managed to do was sink me deeper into depression. Surrounded by magic I could only think of my family. They hated me, and I hated them. I hated them for being right. My supreme amount of arrogance had utterly led to my demise. And I hated my self for it. I ordered another drink.

I downed another gulp of the throat-scorching alcohol set before me on the counter, not even tasting it. Tom looked over at me while wiping off a large mug. I stood up with a slight wobble and paid for my tab. The door to the muggle world seemed so far away from my stool, and my legs wouldn't cooperate. Some how, I managed to get back out onto the street, and was congratulating my self in a slurred inner voice and when I hit a wall.

The light burned my eyes when I came to, even with out opening them. I pulled the warmth of the blanket on top me over me head and buried further into the soft pillows below me. I felt so good. So warm, I was warmer than I ever remember being, but in a good way. I wanted to stay here forever. Than I remembered. I was just at the pub. Pub. Drinks. Tom. Wall. Shit, I thought. Where the hell am I?

I opened my eyes slowly as I pulled the blanket off my head. Gold and red. The large bedroom I was in was decorated with so much gold and red, I thought I was back at Hogwarts. A large, puffy red duvet was covering me. I sat up to look at the pillows. Gold and red. I was starting to panic. Think Percy, I commanded my mind, think this through rationally.

"I see yer up." A rough, Scottish accented voice said from the door, and my ears rang. It sounded so good. And so familiar... I turned my head to the direction of the door and there stood my old room mate, Oliver Wood.

"O-Oliver?" I chocked out. My voice was rough, it hurt to talk.

"Shh. Don't talk." Oliver said, placing the tray of food he was carrying on the bed-side table. "How are you feeling Percy? Better? Does your head hurt?"

I shook my head slightly, ignoring my slight hangover as best I could. Why was I in Oliver Wood's bed?

"Good. Still, I need you to take these pills though. It'll help that hang over you're so nonchalant about."

I held out my hand and Oliver gently placed two little pink pills in my palm. I knocked them back with a large swig of water.

"'onestly Percy, what were you thinking? Tom told me you had fire-whiskey? I thought you where mister righteous, and would never sink to that level of degradation?"

I wanted to tell him, really I did, but when I opened my mouth to answer him, all that came out was a strangled gasp. I felt the tears well up in my eyes for what must have been the hundredth time since I was fired.

I felt Oliver sit beside me on the bed and he began rubbing my back. His hand was so warm. Oliver... Suddenly I was surrounded by warmth. It was so much better than the blanket. I felt like I was melting. Melting into the firm chest I was resting on. Strong arms encircled me, one hand playing with me hair.

"Percy..." Oliver whispered in my ear. "Perce, what s wrong? Tell me, please."

I stiffened slightly, and Oliver pulled me onto his lap. I was straddling him, my face buried in his neck, breathing in the sent of my salvation. I knew than how much he meant to me, how much I had missed him, how much I loved him. He was the missing piece, the part of the puzzle I had lot. I hugged him to me hard.

"Percy... I- I've missed you. Do you know that?" I heard him say against my chest. I pulled back to see his face. He had tears running down his tanned cheeks, Suddenly, we were comforting each other, lost in each other.

I had just finished my third cup of coffee. Papers were spread all round me on my desk. This is what I relished in. This is where I was best. Collating.

Suddenly the door bell went off, and I practically jumped out of my skin. I put my mug down, and made my way to the door. The buzzer sounded again. I looked through the peep hole and was confronted with a large pair of warm brown eyes. Oliver. I gasped and quickly ran my hand through my hair in a short lived attempt to make it neat. I pulled at my shirt with the other hand, trying to get the wrinkles out. Oh, it was no use. I opened the door, and Oliver smiled at me.

"Heya handsome." He said, and I blushed and stammered. "Mind if I come in?" Still to shocked to stitch a coherent phrase together, I moved aside. I closed the door behind him and turned the lock. When I spun around to Oliver, all I saw was red.

"Roses," I heard Oliver say, in his delicious Scottish accent. "I remember you used to take these from Herbology all the time when you thought no one was looking. They're your favorite, aren't they?"

I took them in my hands gently, my fingers brushing his. He didn't pull away. "Yes, they are. Thank you Oliver." I was blushing hard.

"Any thing for you, Perce."

It was nothing. It was a simple phrase. It was a simple meaning, but I couldn't help but shiver at the sound of it.

Suddenly I was cold. Oliver had moved away from me, and toward my window. "You have a nice view here!" He said, looking out over the city. I went into the kitchen to put the roses into a vase.

"Yes, I suppose so," I said, "but it's not some thing I'm interested in." I could hear Oliver chuckle from the other room as I delicately put the flowers in a slender glass vase.

"No," he said, still gazing out at the metropolis, "I suppose all you need to look at are your papers and your books and yer perfectly fine."

"Yes, that's right." I agreed, fighting down the urge to add "and you". It had been a month and two weeks since that night at Oliver's, and ever since than, we had never been closer. I went to all of his Quiditch games, (even though I hated the rest of his team mates and thought he deserved a better position.) and he came and picked me up from work every day (unless he had a practice) I was really happy. Even if he couldn't want me the way I wanted him to, it was still really nice to have a friend. A friend that gave them roses.

There used to be a group of us. We would study together, hang out together, heck, we did every thing we could do together. Oliver, Penelopy, Cedric and I. But than I started dating Penelopy, and Cedric, being a year younger than us, drifted away. He liked Penelopy too. Thinking back, I regret dating Penny. She was a great girl. A sweet, caring, smart girl. But I used her. I used her to prove to my family and friends that I wasn't gay, that I like woman as much as any other guy. In the entire time we dated, I think we only kissed twice. She knew, and she dumped me for it. I was sad, but I still had Oliver. Oliver, who I had odd feelings about. Fellings I didn't know how to place. I know now. When our time at Hogwarts ended I spent hours alone in my room, regretting every thing. I saw Oliver once during that time. He and Penelopy had come to collect me to go to Cedric s funeral. After they left, that's when I began feeling numb. Than I was fired. And nothing made sense any more. I couldn't take it. I felt nothing.

Suddenly I was drawn out of my morbid thoughts and into the warm embrace of Oliver. I gasped, and stiffened. My back was pressed against his muscular chest, one of his hands on my side, the other holding my hand out, like a dance, only backwards. I still held a rose in my hand, the hand he was holding.

"Percy, you looked like you were about to cry. Stop being so depressed, It doesn't suit you." I could feel this chest rumble as he talked, and I almost let out some sort of horribly undignified sound.

"Stop this Oliver." I whispered, pleaded. "I can't do this any more. As much as I want to, I can't."

"Can't what?" he asked, puzzled.

Oh. Damn the Scottish and their damned sexy accents. Damn them and the adorable way they slur their words.

Suddenly it seemed I had lost control of my body. I spun around and pressed my lips full onto Oliver's. Being a head shorted than him, I had to stand on my toes. I know he was shocked, and why wouldn't he be? He was straight, and I was most certainly not.

Than it was my turn to be shocked. His lips began to move on mine and he held me to him as though I wad a dream that would fade away.

I gasped and he used that to plunge his thick tongue into my mouth. I shut my eyes tight and focused on kissing him back. I was lifted onto the counter than, Oliver in between my open legs.

He pulled back slowly, staring into my half laden eyes.

"Percy..." He said huskily, "Percy I want you to know some thing...."

"W-What?" I asked, attempting to regain my breath.

"I love you."

The world stopped.

"W-What was that?"

"I love you. I - Love - You." He accented every word with another smaller kiss, and I wrapped my arms around him, crushing my mouth to his in the most bruising kiss of my life.

After a few minuets of that, I pulled back reluctantly. "I love you too Oliver."

He smiled, the most heart warming, honest smile I had ever imagined. And I was warm.