Title: Pretending For Real Part 4
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.

The day dawned with noise and laughter. All the children that had been tucked up quietly in their beds the previous night suddenly exploded on the Wood household like a horde of bloodthirsty garden gnomes. At first, Oliver kept a worried eye out for Harry’s irritation, hovering whenever one or more of the children played tag around Harry’s chair or badgered him with questions about Uncle Oliver, Quidditch and Are You Uncle Oliver’s Boyfriend Who Plays Quidditch?

 

He found it pointless, though. Harry took to the kids like a duck to water, humoring their dozens of questions, carrying them around, breaking up fights, stealing snacks from the ladies in the kitchen, (how he did that without getting hurt was the talk for nearly an hour), and casting quick healing spells on boo boos. The kids’ obsession with Harry seemed to be fortuitous as the Wood women had ensconced themselves in the kitchen, threatening any male who ventured near with a jelly legs curse and leaving the management of the children to the men.

 

Harry figured out within the first half hour that that was the point. It seemed that only on special occasions like this did the ladies put their Slytherinesque minds together and conspire to force their men folk to play a part in the fun world of child behavior management.

 

At first, Harry was content to watch as the men waved the kids off to do whatever they wanted as long as they left the men folk alone. But then, kids started coming back to the group of men with complaints about bullying, or injury or hunger and Harry had to stifle the urge to snicker at the befuddled looks on the men’s faces. Soon, Harry realized that if he didn’t step in and do something the children would turn the backyard into a state of anarchy. The results of bullying would indeed be ‘so punch him back.’ So, he gave up the ‘man talk’ and reconciled himself to spending the day with the kids.

 

Hell, it wasn’t like that was odd. In the Weasley family, that was his unwritten job. All the kids loved Uncle Harry and surprisingly enough, he was the only one that every single Weasley child would obey without hesitation. The twins’ boys refused to answer to Percy, Percy’s kids wouldn’t even play with the twins’ offspring, Ginny’s girl wouldn’t do a damn thing for Mione. But everyone did what Uncle Harry asked. It seemed that whatever charm Harry had with the Weasley children worked on the Wood children as well.

 

At mealtime, Harry was the one who sat the mini Wood brood down and helped their mums dish their lunches out before taking his own spot next to Oliver. After lunch, it was Harry who gave the kids ‘the look’ when they complained about helping their mums clean up. After cleanup, it was Harry who agreed to keep an eye on them as they scampered off to play out on the mini Quidditch field.

 

And so, Harry sat…full and sated with both food and atmosphere. He watched the kids with a smile, listened to the men talk about the chances of Puddlemere taking the World Cup, and eyed the ladies peering through the window in the kitchen. He could tell they were talking about him. He’d just decided to poke his nose in the kitchen to get a glass of pumpkin juice when Minna came out holding her youngest and a baby bag.

 

“Hi, Harry,” she said with a quiet smile.

 

“Hi,” he returned, tickling the baby under the chin.

 

Minna’s smile brightened with the baby’s coo. “I know you’ve been keeping an eye on the kids most of the day,” she began hesitantly, “but I was wondering if you’d mind watching Elizabeth for me? Just for a while? Ana and I haven’t had much time today without her. One or the other of us has had to hold her the whole afternoon.”

 

Harry grinned. “I would love to get acquainted with Miss Elizabeth,” he held his arms out. Minna gratefully placed the baby in his hands.

 

“If she starts to cry or fuss, just bring her back. She’s probably hungry or wet,” Minna offered.

 

Harry shook his head as he wiggled Elizabeth’s little button nose. “Naw, just leave the bag out here. I’ve spent enough time with kids that I can fix a bottle or change a diaper. You relax. Spend some time with your other lovely lady.”

 

Minna just nodded her thanks and headed back into the kitchen.

 

“Did he balk?” Maisie asked, peering through the aloe vera plant in the window.

 

“Not one bit,” Minna announced with a grin. “He even told me to leave the bag, that he’d change her diaper and feed her.”

 

Amazed ahhh’s filled the room.

 

Kyla snorted. “We’re pathetic, you do know that don’t you?” Everyone avoided making eye contact. “I mean, really. Oliver brings home the only person in whom he’s been interested in for three years and we set the poor boy up to fail.”

 

Bonnie cleared her throat. “We’re really not trying to make him fail, love, we’re just seeing if he can stand the strain of the Wood family.”

 

Kyla rolled her eyes. “Mum. The man is a miracle. This is the first get together we’ve had…ever…that we’ve not had to come outside to break up a fight or fix a broken bone. Hell, it’s the first time we’ve not lost a child in the woods at some point. Harry offered to help in the kitchen. He made our children help clean up the table. Our children mum. He makes Oliver smile. He made Logan laugh. He’s a bloody miracle!”

 

Silence reigned in the kitchen for a long while as the ladies sat and contemplated the mystery that was Harry Potter.

 

Oliver finally got tired of explaining to his da why he couldn’t just demand the coach bench Joss Marpol and decided to get a drink. Halfway to the kitchen, he spotted Harry sitting in a lounger overlooking the Quidditch field. He nearly made a side trip to see if Harry needed something, but then he saw the small bundle Harry held. Ah, Minna’s youngest.

 

His steps faltered as he took in Harry’s countenance. The man looked in his element. He was holding a bottle for the tiny girl and smiling down at her, letting her questing hands wrap around the pinky of the hand holding her bottle. Time stood still for long moments and Oliver wondered what it would be like to watch Harry hold their own daughter like that.

 

Long moments later, he shook it off and retrieved a bottle of butterbeer from the cooler, ignoring the looks of the women clustered around the kitchen table and sink. Bonnie sighed as Oliver once again stopped to watch Harry holding little Elizabeth before continuing on to the picnic bench that held the men. Setting her jaw, she headed out the door, pointedly not minding the calls of ‘mum, where are you going?’

 

She headed straight for Harry, sitting down at the foot of the lounger. Harry looked up at her happily. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he whispered.

 

Bonnie nodded. “I didn’t know you liked babies.”

 

Harry snorted quietly. “Babies, kids, teenagers. For some reason, I love them all. I’m Uncle Harry to two of Bill’s, three of Percy’s, a pair each from the twins, one from Ginny and two from Ron and Mione.” He smirked. “If I didn’t like kids, I’d be insane by this point.”

 

Bonnie chuckled. “Wow, sounds like our group. Oliver likes kids as well,” she added nonchalantly. “The little ones love their Uncle Oliver.”

 

Harry nodded. “I know. I’ve heard quite a bit about how much they love him today,” he laughed.

 

Movement behind Bonnie drew his attention. “Hi Kyla,” he said. Bonnie stiffened a bit.

 

“Hi, Harry,” she returned. “Mum, does Oliver know you’re badgering him about babies?”

 

Harry frowned when Bonnie stood up quickly. She gave him a wavering smile and a glare to Kyla before she walked back to the kitchen. “Um, I know I just missed something. Care to fill me in?” he asked plaintively.

 

Kyla laughed. “The last time mum met one of Ollie’s boyfriends was at a Quidditch game about six years ago. She jumped him immediately and started shoving the topic of kids down his throat.” Her smile faded a bit. “He left Ollie two weeks later saying he couldn’t take the commitment. Oliver threatened to never let mum see any of his future kids if she ever did that again.”

 

Harry just shook his head. “Sorry, Kyla. You can’t scare me away like that. I love kids and I love Oliver.”

 

She eyed him for a long moment and then a slow smile began to creep across her face. “Good to know. And glad to hear it.”

_________________________________________________________________

 

Harry didn’t want to go. He’d had the most amazing day. Lunch turned into dinner, which turned into evening snacks. He helped put the kids to bed and read stories and then had been wickedly tempted by Bonnie into doing just what he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t do, even if asked. Oliver sidled up to him as he was huddled around the dining room table grinning and laughing. A flush covered Oliver’s face as he realized that his mum was showing Harry Oliver’s baby pictures.

 

Harry looked up when Oliver cleared his throat. A wicked smile stole over his face. “Hi, dumplin’,” he snickered.

 

Oliver glared at Bonnie who busily began stacking photo albums into a pile. “Funny, Harry,” he growled. “Not funny enough to keep me from smacking you, but funny nonetheless.”

 

Harry scootched past Kyla and slipped his arm around Oliver’s waist. Reflex caused Oliver to wrap his arm around the younger man’s waist…a hedonistic desire to feel Harry’s body against him kept it there. Harry looked up at him with pouty lips. “You wouldn’t really smack me, would you?” he simpered.

 

Oliver opened his mouth to retort and Harry filled it for him. With his tongue. Oliver lost coherent thought for a moment. The only thing that stood out in his brain was ‘Harry’, ‘tongue’, ‘velvet’ and ‘more.’ When Harry pulled away it took a moment for Oliver to focus on his surroundings. As he did, he noticed with a grimace that his family had that ‘cooing’ look again. The same look they’d been gracing Harry with the entire day.

 

Oliver shook the Harry inspired daze off and looked at his mother. “Mum, we’re gonna have to get going soon.”

 

Bonnie frowned and held her hand out pleadingly. “But Oliver, it seems like you’ve just gotten here.”

 

Oliver smiled wryly. “Yes, mum. But we really have to go. We need to be rested for practice and the coach asked up to try a few new things out so we really need to get to researching some of that.”

 

Bonnie sighed. “Oh, all right. But before you go, I have something I want to show you and Harry.” Her excitement was infectious and Oliver found he and Harry sharing a grin as they followed her into the family room. She stopped by the entryway and practically bounced on her toes. “Tada!” she flung her hands up.

 

Harry looked around in confusion, first wondering what she was so thrilled about and then beginning to worry as Oliver began shaking with pent up anger. He followed the Keeper’s gaze and then he understood. Next to the door was a clock not unlike the ones the Weasley’s had in their own home. It had a hand for each child. Over the years, it looked as though Bonnie and Douglas had lovingly modified it with each marriage and birth of a grandchild.

 

Kyla’s name was on the same hand as Don’s, Logan’s with Alison. And there, right on top of the pile that said ‘visiting home’ was Oliver’s…and Harry’s. Harry stared dumbstruck. He couldn’t decide to grin or to cry. A sappy, hysterical glee filled his chest. There it was, in wizard ink: his name and Oliver’s linked together. There it was: acceptance. But Oliver didn’t seem to share Harry’s feelings.

 

“Why would you do this, mum?” he demanded, avoiding looking at Harry. “We aren’t bonded. We aren’t even—“ he cut himself off before he ruined his and Harry’s plan.

 

Bonnie frowned. “Aren’t even what, Oliver? I just thought it was a nice way of welcoming Harry into the family.”

 

“Why do you have to push so hard, mum?” Oliver demanded, gritting his teeth.

 

“I’m not pushing,” came the confused reply. “Why do you say I’m pushing?”

 

“You are pushing. You’re pushing so hard that if I weren’t a bloody immovable object, I’d be in the Atlantic by now!”

 

“How?” she repeated, a frown beginning to form. “How am I pushing?”

 

Oliver’s snort deepened the frown. “How are you pushing? Do you mean right at this moment? Or just your everyday pushiness?”

 

“Oliver—“ Kyla broke in, not wanting Oliver to say anything that he would regret later.

 

“Sod off, Ky,” he snapped. She wisely backed away. Harry, however, attempted to place a soothing hand on Oliver’s arm.

 

“C’mon, Ollie,” he said quietly. “You don’t want to do this.”

 

“Bugger off, Potter,” he snarled. “This isn’t any of your concern.”

 

Oliver jerked his arm out from under Harry’s hand. Harry let it drop, not realizing the look of hurt that the action placed on his face. Bonnie did, though. She no longer frowned. Now she looked livid.

 

“Oliver Tavis Wood! What is wrong with you? None of his concern? Of course it’s his concern! He loves you!”

 

Oliver ran his hand through his hair and laughed humorlessly. “No, mum, he doesn’t.”

 

Bonnie was horrified. “What do you--? Why would you--? Oliver?”

 

“He doesn’t love me, mum, because he’s not my boyfriend.” Harry wilted in place, knowing it could only go downhill from here. He pointedly stared at the floor, ignoring the astonished looks directed towards him.

 

“D-did you break up?” Bonnie looked confused.

 

Oliver threw his hands up in frustration. “No! We didn’t break up cause we were never together. He hasn’t ever been my boyfriend, mum. Never.”

 

She still looked vaguely perplexed.

 

“Christ, mum!” Oliver yelled. “I lied, all right? I lied my arse off. I got tired of never being good enough. Never being a grown up cause I wasn’t shagging some stupid prat, so I made one up.” He laughed wildly. “Hell, I made them all up. I haven’t had a boyfriend or girlfriend since school! I’ve only had bloody one nighters with people whose names I canna even remember!” the angrier he became, the stronger his brogue grew.

 

“But even that’s dried up lately,” he said dejectedly. “I’ve wanked more in the last bloody month than the entire bloody year I first discovered my tadger.” He sighed and looked into his mum’s eyes. “I knew this was important to you, so when Harry said he’d come along and pretend to be mine, I jumped at the chance. I didnae want to hurt you, mum. I didnae want to disappoint you. I just didnae know how to please you with who I am.” The pain in his voice made Harry want to curl his arms around the keeper and never let him go.

 

“I’m a 26-year-old man who plays games for a living. I havenae got a boyfriend. I havenae got anythin’. I’m nothin’. I’m no one. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I dragged poor Harry into this.”

 

Bonnie’s anger had dried up with her boy’s sorrow. Now, she just wanted to understand. “But he loves ye, boy,” she said softly, knowing it to be true.

 

Oliver threw his hands up. “No!” he moaned. “God, mum, he’s here cause I asked him to help me out. He doesnae love me!”

 

Harry couldn’t keep silent any longer. “And how did you come to that conclusion?” he interjected into the silence, a calm spot in the storm of Oliver’s emotions. Oliver just frowned at him and attempted to turn back to Bonnie. Harry felt his own fury begin to well up. “No, really,” he grabbed Oliver’s arm, halting him with a quick jerk. “I’m very interested in how you came to decide that I couldn’t possibly be in love with you.”

 

Oliver didn’t seem to notice the warning signs. “Well, you’re…but you’re the boy who lived. What would you want with me?” he asked, bewildered in his own right. Harry’s face went instantly white.

 

“What did you just say?” he whispered dangerously. Oliver opened his mouth to repeat his words and Harry felt the last of his control slip away. He silenced whatever hateful thing Oliver was planning on spouting with a satisfying crack to the older man’s nose. Oliver dropped like a rock. He lay on the ground staring up at Harry in astonished horror.

 

“I can’t believe that you of all people would say that to me,” Harry hissed. “You know how much I hate that. You think you’re nobody? Nothing? Did you grow up in a bloody closet for 10 years? Did your parents beat the fucking hell out of you every time you accidentally used magic? Or spoke the bloody word? Did you grow up friendless? Unloved? Unwanted? Were you used like a fucking toy your entire life? A tool? Cause you managed not to die once upon a time?”

 

His voice rose until he was shrieking his words. He knew that he probably wasn’t making any sense, and if Oliver ever spoke to him after this, he’d require some heavy explaining, but he couldn’t stop. “You can’t know nothing until you’ve experienced that. You can’t feel worthless until you hear it bloody ten times a day from people who are supposed to love you!”

 

“You don’t know what having nothing is until you drag your fucking 4 year old body off to die in a closet, knowing no one is coming to help you, knowing no one cares enough to help you. Knowing the only ones could help you are the ones who kicked your guts in in the first place.” He sucked in a breath and was pissed to find that it caught on the lump in his throat.

 

“That’s nothing, Oliver. That’s no one. How fucking dare you tell me I couldn’t love you because I’m someone and you’re not? You are someone Oliver. You’re the only one. The only one who bloody well matters to me right now. I’d fucking die for you, you idiotic fool, did you know that?” His voice softened from a scream and, had he been coherent enough to realize, had taken on a note of pleading.

 

“I have been stupidly in love with you since I was 11. I tried to pretend I was in love with Cho. But when I realized she was just the wrong gender, I started chasing after Draco, spouting love and eternal devotion. He knew I was full of shit. He knew that the first time he fucked me and I screamed ‘I love you Oliver’. He was the one who sent me to you, did you know that? He pulled some strings and called in some favors until he could get me on the same bloody team as you…so I could be close to you.”

 

“For 3 years, Oliver,” he moaned helplessly, “I’ve watched you every day. I’ve loved you more and more every day. That letter from your mum was a fucking blessing from the gods for me. Did you not notice I practically begged you to let me pretend to be your boyfriend? Did you miss that? Christ, Oliver. You are the most bloody-minded fool I’ve ever met.”

 

He had to stop. The words were choking like acid in his throat. Oliver just stared up at him.

“Harry, I…”

 

“Shut the hell up Oliver!” he found his voice again. “I may love you with my last breath, but right now I just want to beat the fuck out of you! I’m going home. I’m going to get bloody drunk. I’m going to feel bloody sorry for myself. I’m going to cry my fucking heart out for the next 24 hours and I will see you on Monday at practice. Don’t try to talk to me until then. Don’t try to explain anything to me. Don’t darken my doorstep, my floo, or my owl post or I’ll rip your bollocks off and feed them to you.”

 

With that, he turned from his love and turned to the family he knew he’d just lost for himself. “I’m very sorry for the deception, Mr. Wood. Mrs. Wood. Please accept my apologies. It was very nice meeting you. All of you. Thank you for your hospitality.”

A resounding crack echoed through the room as Harry apparated, leaving Oliver laying on the floor staring at the spot Harry just vacated