Sidekicks

AN: This story is part of Five Times Friday. To find out more about FFT, go to my author profile and click on the LJ link. Or just ask me…that works too.

I'm supposed to be asleep. I have my nice blue sleeping bag all curled around me and it's not too hot…the moon is shining too bright through the window though. It's making me want to think. And I'm not liking the results.

It's happening a lot lately, this thing. My brain wants me to think, but then when it gets my results it goes CODE RED, clear your head, go back to being the pretty dumb blonde, don't get too deep for your own good. And I'm really sick of listening but…the other side scares me so much. I mean of all the things I could possibly ruin in my life, this can't be the one to risk. It can't. It can't, it can't, it can't. I should have just hid in my room for a week, but nooo, I wanted to have a Harry Potter movie marathon. And then the stupid-

"Hey Lilly?" A voice comes out of the darkness on the other side of me the moon doesn't touch. I don't answer, maybe if he thinks I'm asleep he'll just leave me alone. "Why is it that all libraries have the word memorial in their titles?"

"I don't know, Oliver," I say in my best, fake-agitated, sleepy voice. "Go back to bed."

"It's really bothering me though, why can't they just be the JFK library?" He continues, and I see a hand wave through the light. "Why does it have to be the JFK Memorial Library?

I sigh, and turn onto my side so my back's facing him, "Oliver! I'm trying to sleep."

It's silent for a minute. Then I hear him snicker, "No you're not, you've been staring out the window for the past hour."

"You know, sometimes I really hate you." I mumble, still looking at Miley's kitchen island.

"Right, about as much as you hate chocolate covered strawberries and Rupert Grint." At the mention of Rupes, I stiffen. I'm really, really tempted to ask him something I shouldn't. "Lils, what's wrong?"

"Who said anything's wrong?" I ask, chewing nervously at my cuticles.

"Alright, what's right?" He inquires, and I can feel the smirk on my face. Sometimes I'd really like to throw our non-verbal communication skills out the window.

"Why does everything have to be something? Why can't things just be what they are? The light from outside is too bright and I can't sleep with it."

"You're right, nothing should be anything. You know what we should start with?"

"What?"

"Libraries should not be memorials."

"You're an idiot."

"I prefer the term doughnut."

"I prefer the phrase kiss my ass."

"Gladly." Part of me is tempted to reach my leg out to kick him, the other to ask him if he's serious even if I'm positive he isn't. "Why are you really awake?"

I really don't answer that question so I resort pettiness, "Why are you?"

"I asked you first," He retorts, and I'm thinking things so strongly now I kind of cave.

"No getting mad." I say it in the tone of a command, but we both know it's a silent promise.

"How come that never applies to your end of the bargain?"

"Because I'm a girl, and there's a greater chanced that you'll be an idiot." I smile to myself, and roll over to face him. The moonlight is covering him now. His hair is shimmering in an odd way with it, it's both light and dark at the same time. It's nice.

"I resent that." His smirk is there though, so he must not too much.

"Do you want me to tell you or not?" I ask, letting out a little breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"Yeah," He whispers, and he looks at me expectantly and I know he's waiting for something bigger than I'm ready to give him.

"Ron and Hermione are going to end up together," I tell him.

He laughs and reaches out a hand to ruffle my hair, "I know, Lillypie, it's been pretty obvious that it's been coming for years. And don't you pretend you didn't read half the little moments they had from the seventh book to me."

I smile in spite of myself, "How else are you going to know if they leave one out of the movie?"

"Maybe because you'll tell me over and over and over again." I bite my lip to keep from straight out grinning, he's making fun of me and that wouldn't be right to give him the satisfaction of knowing he's doing a good job. "Besides, they're doing the movie in two parts now. Trying to crank even more money out of the cash cow that is Ha-Ha-Ha-Harry Potter."

I laugh at the funny way he raise his voice as he elongates the name. Now what he just said is sinking in though, Deathly Hallows, two parts, score! "They are? How do you know? Does this mean I'll definitely get the wedding dance? And the Cattermoles look? And the-"

"I don't know beyond what Sarah was blabbering about in Accounting the other day," I feel a slight pang of guilt of sitting with Miley over him and leaving him to deal with Saint Sarah. Mostly, I just really want to know what else she knows though. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, in most other stories the hero ends up with the girl. Or the heroine ends up with the guy. Ron's not the hero though."

"Well, Hermione's not really the girl is she? I don't see her damsel-in-distressing around." I giggle, damn my uncontrollable laughter. "I think Harry's more of a damsel than she is."

Boy does he make me think screwed up things, "I just got a mental image of Harry wearing an olden day dress with long blonde Rapunzel hair."

"That sounds funny, e-mail it to me?" He cracks another grin.

"If only," I murmur. His eyes are looking into mine now, and he reaches out to take my hand. As I think of Miley upstairs, I'm reminded of a very specific part of book seven, "He wondered if they'd fallen asleep holding hands," Or something to that affect.

"Tell me, Lilly," Oliver says, and he squeezes my fingers in his.

"Sidekicks aren't really supposed to end up together, are they?" I ask very quietly.

"I don't know," He tells me, and I feel an overwhelming surge of something…it makes my eyes feel full for a second but then it travels away down my spine before I can define it. It just is. Just like so much else.

"Go to sleep, Oliver," I tell him, although I don't move from our hand-locked position.

"Night, Lillypie," He doesn't make any move to leave either. I trail my eyes to the floor. If I keep looking at his face I'll never fall asleep. It kind of doesn't seem like I will anyways.

AN: I'm exhausted, it's two am. I just had to get it all down on paper before it left me or started shaking my mind too much.