Oliver tugged at his pajama bottoms, pulling the drawstring waistband up over his thighs and tying them just below his navel. He could feel tiny tremors racing under his skin as his body temperature tried to adjust to the cool air in the room. The thick henley shirt with the Gryffindor lion stitched on one side helped enough to make walking from his room to the kitchen bearable. It took some maneuvering, but he was able to flip his slippers into the right positions using just his toes.
Steam from the little teapot clouded his kitchen window, distorting the grey dawn’s light. Tiny sprouts of frost coated the bottom edge of the glass and he couldn’t resist running his finger over it to push the thin crystals around. Summer was fast approaching, so the frost easily melted under his warm hand.
As he leaned against his counter, watching the sun rise with a mug of tea in hand, he scratched at the back of his neck. His hair was getting too long again. It would start curling out from under his Quidditch helmet and he hated how that felt. Before he could forget he penned a brief note to Katie Bell asking if she were free for a trim later that week.
His apartment was small, even by first-year Quidditch-player-living-in-London standards. So, when the body he’d shared his bed with started to stir, he could hear him easily.
Oliver wondered if anyone made disheveled look as good as Percy Weasley.