The aisles of Quality Quidditch Supplies were overflowing with last minute shoppers as I absently ran my fingers over the smooth black leather case of a broom servicing kit that I needed desperately for my Firebolt 360. Taking a deep breath in I tried not to think about the sweaty moisture that permeated the air of the shop, making my throat feel itchy as if this oxygen wouldn't satisfy my body's need.
Taking my time, I glanced over the various products in the case. From the Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish to the silver Tail-Twig Clippers. Perfect. The polish would do wonders after the trauma done to my broom in the last game versus the Appleby Arrows, which still made me furious with just the smallest bit of thought. Sure, we'd won in the end thus securing my team a place in the Quidditch World Cup. But that bloody Greg Landers still deserved a good punch in the kidneys.
The noise-level around me was almost deafening as I took a step backwards to move away from the shelf filled with rows and rows of products that were exact replicas of the one I had cradled to my chest. It was amazing how one little shop could legally maintain this many people. Then again, it might not be legal at all. It was probably more along the lines of the Ministry easing up on the enforcement of their laws during the holiday season.
When I went to spin around in the direction of the main check-out line my body went rigid for a second as an arm came out of nowhere, sliding around my waist and causing a familiar band of warmth to ignite in my lower abdomen. The comfort of this intrusion hit me with the same amount of force that it always did. It would never get old to me.
"Find what you were looking for?" he asked, his lips brushing lightly against my ear as he leaned in closer in order to talk over the hustle and bustle around us.
"Yes," I said, tilting my head to the side so that I could look up at him from over my shoulder. "What about you?"
His fingers drew circles into my side where he had slipped his hand under the edge of my dark blue long-sleeved cotton shirt. "No, they didn't have any more Self Straightening Brushes. But, it's alright. I wasn't really expecting there to be too many left, if any."
"You know, Oliver," I began, turning around and leaning up so that I could press fully against him with one arm around his neck and the other dropped to my side where my hand could intertwine with the familiar warmth of his own. "If you had just taken my advice, you could have already had those brushes."
"Oh yeah?" he said, smiling down at me from a towering height that even I couldn't match up to. The only people who are taller than Oliver are Ron and Bill, but that's just because they're freaks.
"Yeah," I nodded, biting my lip when I returned his smile unconsciously.
"Well, I'm terribly sorry, Ginny," he chuckled, pressing his cheek into my hand as I reached up to brush his sandy brown fringe back from his face that even his hat couldn't hold in place. "I guess we can't all be as smart and wise and-"
"Sexy and wicked in bed and so too good for you?" I continued, smiling broadly at him as he rolled his eyes dramatically.
"Yes, love. All of the above," he droned monotonously as if answering a question asked by a teacher.
I made a face at him as he stuck his tongue out at me, loving how everything was always so easy with us. We just followed our hearts and let our relationship run its course. I cared about him and he cared about me and that was all either of us needed to know. There was only one problem with us being an us.
We hadn't told anyone about it.
In all fairness to me, I was truly planning on doing just that from the very first moment that we'd gotten together. Then, it somehow just got pushed aside over and over until finally Oliver and I had sat down and talked it through like the reasonable adults that we are. It was a mutual decision to hold off on going public from that moment on. We were in that blissful state that all new, fun-loving romances stir up. Why ruin it by opening it up to the whole world?
After all, we would be doing just that. Opening it up to the whole entire world. Oliver Wood and Ginny Weasley didn't exactly blend into a crowd. Oliver is the greatest Keeper that the game of Quidditch has seen for over 200 years. He's been gaining this reputation on Puddlemere United since he was just out of Hogwarts. And I, well, I'm the newest starting Chaser of the Chudley Cannons. The only woman, and certainly the youngest on the team at the age of twenty-one. Apparently that makes me the current hot story.
As if all of that wasn't enough, Puddlemere United and the Chudley Cannons just happen to be rivals for the World Cup this coming spring. Fans would be in a complete uproar over the two of us if we told everybody about our relationship. No, it was much better to keep quiet until the season was over and done with. To just continue staying inside to be together, and to keep hiding our identities with various hats and scarfs while in the public eye. We had been doing a fantastic job of it for the last four months. Why stop now?
Oliver slid a hand up my arm and into the bright red locks of my hair that fell from under my winter hat, making shivers that had nothing to do with the temperature run up my spine. I stared into his hazel eyes that made me want to melt instantly into his arms and remain like that, secure from all outside influences, forever. A crooked smile pulled up a corner of his mouth as his face inched closer to mine.
"I've got to go pay," I said with as innocent of a smile as I could manage when I pulled away from him just as his lips were a centimeter away from mine.
Oliver groaned, releasing his hold upon the back of my neck and my lower back. "Such a tease."
"Who, me?" I asked, blinking at him angelically.
"Love, I know you too well to fall for that act anymore. It hasn't worked since week two," he said, reaching out to pick up the servicing kit that I had, at some point or another during our brief exchange, discarded on the shelf behind us.
"Yes, but it did work," I said, eyeing him triumphantly.
"I'll give you that," he smiled, shaking his head at me when I held out a hand for the kit. "I've got it covered. Go wait outside."
I raised my eyebrows at him, not retracting my hand.
Oliver looked to the ceiling as if asking some heavenly body how he could possibly have wound up with someone so stubborn. "C'mon, Ginny. Throw me a rope here. You never let me do anything for you."
"That's because I don't need you to," I stated matter-of-factly.
"Well, I'm not doing this because you need me to. I'm doing it because I want to. End of discussion. Go wait for me outside," he said, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to my lips before winking at me and swaggering away toward the check-out line. He was probably only just barely stopping himself from giving in and patting himself on the back for winning this argument. The only thing holding him back was probably his pride. He knew that if I ever saw him doing such a thing again I'd never let him hear the end of it. He was perfect enough that I liked to point out faults.
Oliver was more than I could have ever hoped for in a boyfriend. He was smart, charming, down-to-earth, witty, strong, determined as hell and always treated me as an equal. The fact that he was also gorgeous from head to toe, was simply the icing on the cake. I loved him. He knew it, too. Not only had I said it, but I'm sure it was absolutely blatant just by a quick glance. I mean, I couldn't stop myself from smiling when he looked at me that way he always did and I felt positively giddy whenever he said something particularly romantic. I was completely done for.
Smiling softly to myself, I headed in the direction of the exit while trying not to bump into too many people. I hadn't been joking when I said the shop was overflowing with customers. The doors had to be kept wide open so that enough people could enter and leave. Cold air rushed inside only to be overcome by the warmth of so many people packed together. By the time I had squeezed through the doorway and out onto the snow-covered main street of Diagon Alley, I'd had to apologize to seven people for either shouldering them or stepping on their feet.
The street was even more packed than Quality Quidditch Supplies had been, causing me to remain shoved up against the side of the building in an effort to avoid oncoming traffic. I was left waiting there for about fifteen minutes and about twenty five bruises before Oliver finally left the store and used the combination of his incredible height and my insanely red hair to locate me in the crowd.
"My hero," I said with a flourish as he pushed his way toward me and used his body as a shield from the holiday-crazed shoppers all around us.
The shopping bag with my kit in it hung loosely from his wrist as both of his hands slid over my hips and he pressed up against me, "Yeah, I'm a regular knight in shining armor."
"More like a talented Keeper with a dirty broom," I said, my voice dipping suggestively and eliciting a bark of laughter from him.
He stared at me with bright, warm eyes as I stared back. It was as if the swarms of people all around us simply died away until only the two of us were left on the street. Just me and Oliver. There was cinnamon on his breath as it caressed my skin, filling me with a longing to never let go of this moment.
"I love you," I said, smiling softly.
His only answer was a kiss, passionate and demanding right there in that very spot. Kissing Oliver was always something new and never anything short of breathtaking. He didn't kiss just to kiss, but to feel. And I always did. I felt his desire, his affection, his need. His every touch was like a bolt of lightening shocking my system and throwing it into overdrive.
Suddenly, he was wrapping his arms protectively around me and apparating us away from prying eyes with a brief spin.
Sometimes I wished that everything could be that easy. One pivot and you could be anywhere you want, away from every problem. But, some problems couldn't be ran from. Some were internal, some were too close to home. But, for now, I was just going to live in this moment. Where no problems could touch me and, if they did, I'd still have Oliver. Sometimes all you need are the simple things. What's simpler than love?
AN: This was actually written for a challenge in the HPFF forums. I've honestly never tried a pairing other than Hermione/OC to this magnitude. Hope you enjoyed it! It's meant to be a short story, so it should end up being about 4 chapters long.