Title: Pretending For Real Part 3
Author: Constant Vigilance
Status: WIP
Email: tirel@pcnuthut.com

Website: https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/firebird_ascending/
Rating: Dunno yet.
Pairing: Harry/Oliver
Spoilers: AU. Characters aged up to age of consent.
Warnings: Slash
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR is God.
Summary: Oliver needs a boyfriend to parade in front of his family. Harry offers to fill in.
Notes: For Cassy. Cause she’s a damn good pester-er.

That weekend found Harry and Oliver apparating to the nearest village that Harry knew on the way to the Woods’ home. From Stirling, they mounted their broomsticks and flew over the darkening landscape. Harry was content to fly just behind Oliver, as apparently the Wood home was magically obscured. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that Harry rarely got to see Oliver fly for the sake of flying. Too often, he had to watch Oliver dart around the goals or duck a bludger. Watching him here, like this, brought a tight feeling to Harry’s chest.

 

They flew through the barrier, which Harry thought felt just like punching through plastic wrap, around nightfall. They’d waited, as Oliver didn’t want to interrupt dinnertime. They set down gracefully in the back yard of a gorgeous two-story manor home. They’d barely gotten off of their brooms when a lovely grey haired woman rushed out of the house and threw her arms around Oliver.

 

“Hi, mum,” he grinned at Harry over her shoulder.

“Oh, Oliver, you’re really here,” she gushed. She turned to look at Harry. “And you must be his handsome young man.” Harry just nodded and gave a tiny bow. Mrs. Wood fluttered her hands and giggled a tiny bit. “Well, come on in boys…everyone is here already.” Harry allowed himself to be bustled into a huge sitting room filled with more people than the Burrow at Christmas.

 

“The children have all been put into bed already,” Mrs. Wood called over her shoulder as she entered the room. “Logan, love? Will you please transfigure that bench into something that Oliver and his young man can be comfortable on? Harry’s eye moved to the man who stood at Mrs. Wood’s request. A taller, darker haired carbon copy of Oliver smirked at his younger brother.

 

“Sure, ma,” he purred. With a flick of his wrist, the bench became a large, plush chair. With room for one. Oliver glared at Logan who just smirked back.

 

“Oh, Mary Mother of Christ,” muttered the blonde woman who had sat at Logan’s side. “They’ve started already.”

 

Harry stepped forward to the older man and smiled a huge smile, sticking his hand out in greeting. “Hello, I’m Harry. You’re Logan?” he crinkled his forehead inquisitively.

 

Logan looked suspiciously from Harry’s outstretched hand to his brother’s glaring face. “Aye, I’m Logan,” he said slowly, taking Harry’s hand cautiously into his own. Harry pumped his hand twice and then nodded.

 

“Oliver mentioned a thing or two about you,” he leaned forward, smiling conspiritally. Logan’s frown turned into a grin.

 

“Did you now, little Oliver Twist?” His look now could only be described as sly.

 

“Shut up, Loganberry,” Oliver snapped.

 

“Boys!” Mrs. Wood sighed. “Please, cannae we let Oliver introduce his young man before ye start with the horrible name calling?”

 

Both boys looked chastened. “Sorry, mum,” they replied in unison.

 

Harry stepped back to Oliver and took his hand. Oliver managed not to suck in an audible breath at the feeling of Harry’s skin against his own. “Um, mum, da…everyone…this is my b-boyfriend Harry Potter. Harry, this is my mum and da, my sisters Kyla and Maisie and their husbands Don and Jake, my sister Minna and her wife Ana, my brothers Loganberry and Ian and their wives Alison and Denise.”

 

Oliver shot Logan a sneer, having managed to slam him in the middle of introductions. Harry rolled his eyes and caught Logan’s wife, Alison, and Mrs. Wood doing the same. “Very nice to meet you all,” he nodded politely. “Thank you for having me in your lovely home.”

 

“Well,” Mrs. Wood fluttered her hands. “My goodness. Harry Potter!” She nearly giggled again. “Well, I can certainly understand why Oliver was so determined to keep the identity of his boyfriend such a secret.” Harry winced imperceptibly. “It’s not everyday a mother hears that the Boy Who Lived is in love with her son!”

 

Now Harry did flinch. Oliver wrapped a protective arm around him and frowned at his mother. “Harry is just Harry, mum. Bollocks all that Boy Who Lived yap.”

 

Harry turned a grateful eye on Oliver, smiling up into the older man’s face. “Actually, Mrs. Wood, the fact that Oliver loves me as just Harry is one of the things that first drew me to him,” he said quietly.

 

Bonnie flushed, having realized she’d just somehow insulted her son’s boyfriend within the first five minutes. “Call me Bonnie, Harry dear,” she said brightly to hide her discomfort. Harry nodded and smiled back at her, forgiving her with a sweetly adorable look. Bonnie turned back to her seat, a flush that had nothing to do with her faux pas on her face. She could see how Oliver might be attracted to the lovely Mr. Potter.

 

Oliver shuffled his feet and glanced from the single transfigured chair to Logan, his eyes narrowing in threat. Harry sighed and planted a splayed hand in the middle of Oliver’s chest, pushing firmly. Oliver’s eyes widened as he flailed a bit and then flew backwards to sit in the transfigured chair. While the others were still wondering what was going on, Harry plopped his arse down across Oliver’s lap, his legs twining with the Keeper’s and his arm settling behind Oliver’s neck.

 

Harry glanced around the room and gave a schoolboy grin. “Oliver was a little worried about being too touchy feely around you all,” he explained cheekily.

 

Amidst the chuckles, Logan smirked. “Don’t worry about that, Harry. We’ve seen more than just lap sitting around here,” he looked pointedly at Kyla.

 

“Piss off, Logan,” she said airily, flipping her dark hair. “If you hadn’t been lurking around the broom shed trying to get me in trouble, you wouldn’t have seen me and Don starkers.”

 

Logan looked back at Harry and mock shuddered. “Like looking into the mouth of hell, it was,” he whispered loudly, just before ducking the pillow that Kyla sent spinning at his head.

 

When the laughter died down, Bonnie crossed her hands on her lap primly and cleared her throat. “So, Harry, tell us how you and Oliver met and got together.”

 

“Mum—“ Oliver protested.

 

“It’s okay, Ollie,” Harry patted him on the chest. “We’ll leave out our own broom shed experience,” he reassured Logan who looked about to burst into laughter. “Actually, the first time I heard of Oliver, I thought I was about to be given corporal punishment.” Curious looks followed. “The Transfigurations professor had just seen me make, what I thought at the time was, a delightfully daring catch. I later found out that rather than delightful or daring, it was foolhardy, reckless and quite against the rules,” he paused while the Wood family chuckled.

 

“The professor was recruiting me for the Quidditch team, however she seemed to have forgotten to tell me that. She poked her head in the DADA class and asked to borrow Wood. I thought for sure that she was going to beat the hell out of me.”

 

Even Oliver burst out laughing. “You never told me that part of the story,” he guffawed. “I always thought you looked a bit nervy, just never knew why.”

 

Harry shrugged off the laughter magnanimously. “Ah, well, you were quite busy checking me out.”

 

Oliver nearly choked. His eyes bulged out and he gasped. “You were 11! I was not checking you out!”

 

Harry looked innocently down at him. “I meant my seeker’s build, dear,” though the look he shot the rest of the room belied that.

 

“You little shit,” Oliver poked him in the side. At Harry’s surprised squeal, Oliver’s eyebrows raised and a wicked grin came over his face. The next few minutes were filled with desperate pleadings as Oliver began to mercilessly tickle Harry’s sides. The family looked on fondly until Oliver realized that he and Harry weren’t the only two in the room and he pulled his fingers back embarrassedly.

 

“So,” asked Minna, her own wife Ana sitting on her lap as well, “How did you two get together?”

 

Harry snuggled down into Oliver’s lap, determined to enjoy the feeling of the keeper’s body against his while he could. “I joined Puddlemere three years ago,” he began. “They’d just retired their seeker and Oliver recommended me since we’d played on the same team in school. We started hanging out, doing guy things, and eventually…we just clicked.”

 

Bonnie sniffed slightly, “Well, I must say you two look truly wonderful together…so in love. Oliver is forever going on about how sweet and kind you are. About how much you love him. I’m glad to see that that all wasn’t just stories to make an old woman feel better.” Oliver flinched. “It does my heart good to know that someone loves my Oliver so much.”

 

Harry looked down at Oliver, his expression softening. “Yes, ma’am. I truly do.” He gave into temptation and leaned down, softly pressing a kiss to Oliver’s lips. Oliver just stared back up at Harry, eyes wide and focused only on the smile on Harry’s face.

 

Maisie giggled. “Well, Oliver must be in love as well. He seems to have forgotten that the rest of us exist.” Oliver’s head shot down and he flushed.

 

“Maisie, leave your brother alone,” Bonnie ordered, standing up. “Boys, I have your room all ready for you. Why don’t you go rest? You look tired.”

 

“Thank you, Bonnie,” Harry nodded. “We just got done with practice. The coach wanted us to go for another few hours today since we’re taking the weekend off.” Bonnie led them to what Harry later found out was Oliver’s old room.

 

When she left, Oliver flopped out on the bed, covering his eyes with his arm. Harry grinned and bounced down beside him. He leaned in and blew gently into Oliver’s ear. Oliver glared up at him momentarily, but the glare faded. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” he said mournfully.

 

Harry looked confused. “Why? They’re wonderful. I love them already. I’m horribly jealous.”

 

Oliver’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “You won’t be saying that tomorrow.”

 

They got ready for bed, each making a point of not watching the other…while watching the other. Somehow, this was even more intimate than prancing around full monty in the showers. Neither one seemed to have remembered to pack any sleep clothes, and they sheepishly crawled under the covers clad only in boxer shorts. They took their own sides, leaving a space of about six inches between them that seemed as large as the English Channel.

 

A quick nox and they lay in silence.

 

“Thanks again, Harry, for helping me out,” Oliver’s voice broke the quiet.

 

“No problem, Ollie,” Harry returned. “You’re my friend. And it’s not really a hardship. Your family is really nice.”

 

Silence again.

 

“We can go home tomorrow evening,” Oliver added.

 

“Yeah,” Harry said into the darkness.

 

“And I’ll come up with some reason why we broke up. That way you won’t have to wind up doing this favor for me again.”

 

Harry tensed. “I don’t mind, Oliver. Really. I mean it.”

 

“I know,” Oliver said forcibly, though he felt anything but. “I guess I just hate having to live a lie and I feel bad for dragging you into it.”

 

“I volunteered.”

 

Oliver sighed. “I know. Goodnight Harry.”

 

Harry sighed. “Goodnight Oliver.”

 

And they lay there in the darkness for a long time, each listening to the other breathe.