In Love and War
By Raynebow-Kitten
PG-13
Oliver Wood/Katie Bell.
Disclaimer: I own nothing I earn nothing!
Time line: Four years after Order of the Phoenix, putting Oliver and Katie
in their early twenties
AN: This is my first OW/KB fic and it is also my first fic written in the first person. This is from Katie's POV. Please R&R and let me know what you think. It's a one shot ficlet at the moment but if you would like me to continue it let me know. Thanx.
* * *
Storm clouds rolled together across the blackness, making the darkened sky appear as a monochrome pallet of violent brushstrokes, painted by an artist whose soul was burdened with an unbearable amount of despair. As I sat at the window staring into this brutal maelstrom of whirling clouds through the lead lattices I could empathise with that soul wholly, if I didn't know that it was imposable I could even have believed that it was I moulding the scene with my mind, transferring the grey sadness in my heart onto the night sky. Then the despair would subside and anger would flash through me, white and hot, it was then that the lightning would strike.
It is remarkable how in the space of one day the world can change so totally. When I awoke that morning the autumn sun was breaking through the slight opening in the bedroom curtains, casting a thin line of warm light across the centre of the bed. Only changing its path to allow for Oliver's still sleeping form. I lay there as I had many mornings before and watched him sleep. Taking in the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The barely audible sound of his breathing, and the look of almost ethereal peace on his handsome face.
I had always had difficulty understanding those who admitted to taking pleasure from watching the sleeping countenance of the one they loved. I suppose I had always felt it was an act that had no place outside of a romance novel. But now I understand entirely. When you love someone with all your heart and soul, the thing you want most in the whole world is for them to be happy and content. When I see Oliver lying beside me so care free, so unaffected by the worries of the waking world I feel a kind of glowing peace wash through me and in those moments all is well with the world.
Since the return of You Know Who four years ago, happiness and contentment were emotions that had been getting more and more elusive with each passing month. Every witch and wizard went about their daily lives the best way they could and there were moments of joy in all of our lives still. And yet it was there always, in the back of all of our minds. We were at war. And if You Know Who's following continued to grow at the rate it was. It is a war, which sooner or later we would all have to fight.
Lost in my thoughts I traced the line of light across Oliver's abdomen with my finger. He stirred slightly and let out a diminutive sigh. Looking up I noticed that his eyes were now open though still a little heavy from sleep. When he spoke his voice was still groggy making his accent broader than usual. 'Morning beautiful.' I looked away and smiled a warm blush painted my cheeks; I never was very good at receiving compliments, even from Oliver. I know that it's ridiculous, we left school ages ago and he ceased being my captain long before he became my lover, but I suppose I became so used to him calling me Bell and barking orders at me that it took a while to settle into a non Quidditch based relationship, and we had, mostly. Quidditch would always be there, this is Oliver Wood we're talking about after all. Besides we have been known to take a trip down memory lane for a little game of captain and chaser (usually after one too many drinks). Honestly if someone had told me six years ago that Oliver Wood had a Kinky streak I would have laughed at them. This thought made my blush deepen even more and it was a moment before I found my voice 'Morning' I kissed him lightly before snuggling into his chest wrapping my body around his, taking comfort from his warm skin and musky scent. I could feel him tracing lazy patterns across my back with his fingers as he kissed the top of my head. It was one of those moments that you never want to end. Then he spoke.
'You were watching me sleep weren't you?' Apparently Oliver had no intention of indulging in a quiet, comfy early morning cuddle. He knew only too well my thoughts on watching people sleeping, or at least he thought he did. I was sure that if I had looked up at him at that moment I would have seen a very smug look plastered across his face. But I didn't look up, mainly because I was blushing again and in his eyes that would have been an admission of guilt. All right so I was guilty. I was as guilty as sin and then some but there was no way he was going to know that. So instead I did what anyone in this situation would do. I denied it.
'Don't flatter yourself sweetie, It's bad enough having to see you awake, at least then you don't drool' I was reasonably pleased with this come back, I had managed to deny his accusation and throw an insult back at him, it should have worked. Oliver unfortunately seemed to have an answer for everything this morning. 'How would you know whether I drool or not if you haven't been watching me sleep?' I tried to think of a response but I could feel him looking at me. He knew he had me. In the absence of a witty come back I did the first thing that came into my head...I bit him. Not hard, just enough to let him know I was growing tired of this conversation. My adorably annoying boyfriend was having none of it. He laughed and pulled me up his body so that I could not avoid looking him in the eye.
'You were! You were watching me sleep because you love me.' His lips had formed themselves into an almost maniacal grin and his eyes sparkled. The amusement he felt proved contagious and I giggled despite myself. In struggling to get free of the grip he had around my waist I only succeeded in making it easier for Oliver to shift our weights and pin me down. That boy never was one to give up easily. 'Admit it Bell and I'll go easy on you.' Composing myself I banished my giggles and feigned a steely resolve. My answer was short and to the point; 'Never' thinking back I never intended it to come out as a challenge, but I'm glad it did. Oliver raised one eyebrow and looked at me as if he was a hunter and I was some hitherto undiscovered prey. It was a look I know well, 'Never you say? We'll see about that. I have ways of making you talk.' And he did make me talk. In fact he made me sing like a little tweety bird. Everything had been so perfect. Until that damned owl arrived.
We had finally dragged ourselves out of bed and were sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast when we heard the tapping at the window. Oliver stood to let in the large tawny owl, which landed on the back of his chair. I busied myself buttering more toast as he untied the post form the owls' leg and depositing the money for the paper before it flew away into the already darkening sky. Sitting back down at the table I watched Oliver as he went through our mail, I figured mostly bills. Since they cancelled Quidditch for security reasons we had been getting lots of nice red ones on account of neither of us making as much money as we used to.
He dropped the prophet onto the table and stood turning one of the letters over and over in his hands. His eyes seemed to cloud over and his brow furrowed. I swallowed my pumpkin juice and leant back in my chair regarding him carefully for a moment. When he didn't speak or make any move to open the letter he was holding I began to get worried. 'What's the matter?' There was still no response. He looked as if he was a million miles away. I raised my voice a little in an attempt to bring him back to the here and now. 'Oliver?' When our eyes met I got the feeling he still wasn't quite all there. His face had become pale and his hands were shaking slightly. 'It's a letter from the Ministry.' My heart sank. I knew instinctively what it was, we both did. I tried however to remain optimistic, or at least to cling to my denial for as long as I could. 'It could be anything Oliver really. Open it...it might be a fine or something.' The word's that left my lips seemed calm enough but the voice speaking them rang with a rising panic.
Oliver sat next to me at the table and slowly opened the official ministry stationary envelope. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the letter enclosed within. Knowing that if I did my worst fear would be realised. When I heard him fold the letter and slip it back into the envelope I opened my eyes and looked at him. He met my gaze firmly, 'I've been drafted. I have to leave tomorrow' any emotion that should have been present in his voice was gone; the sound was hollow, almost lifeless. It was the voice of a person who is resigned to their fate. I realise now that he felt he had to be strong for me. That is something I will never forgive myself for, it should have been me being strong for him, maintaining the pretence of a positive mental attitude. Instead I held him as if my life depended on it and tried desperately to stop the tears stinging my eyes from falling.
We stayed like that for what seemed like an age. Finally Oliver spoke. 'I'd better let my parents know.' I pulled away from him reluctantly as he continued; 'I'll apparate up to their house now before they go out.' I smiled and stroked his cheek tenderly with my thumb. I wanted nothing more than to yell 'Don't go, don't leave me.' I wanted to lock the world outside and spend every moment of the time we had left in his arms. But I knew he was right. If anything were to happen to him. Were he not to come back and he hadn't seen his mother before he left it would kill her. This last thought sent a bolt of pain shooting straight through my heart, Please Merlin don't let anything happen to him.
I sat on his lap and kissed him deeply, feeling the intense connection we had to each other coursing through my body, subconsciously storing the memory so that I could relive it many times over in the time to come. We broke away from each other slowly our foreheads touching and I gathered my strength to say the words 'you should go, you don't want to miss them' Oliver nodded slowly as we both rose from the chair together. He gathered his things and the letter and prepared to leave. 'I wont be long.' I merely smiled and said 'give your mother my love' he nodded again and held me close to him, speaking quietly into my ear 'I love you.' I took a deep breath and held him even closer. 'I love you too.' We parted reluctantly and with a quick smile and a quiet pop he vanished.
I sat back down and tried to take in what had just happened. My brain wasn't functioning very well, it seemed to be stuck on 'He's leaving...tomorrow. And he might not come back!' In an effort to banish these thoughts from my mind I reached for the newspaper. Oliver would be fine, he would, he had to be. I wish now that I had chosen a different distraction. There it was on the front page. An operation in Italy, a failed operation. No death eaters captured, twenty of our troops dead or missing. This was exactly the last thing I needed to see. Sweet Merlin why Oliver? Why now?
The worst thing about the article was that although I was upset by it I wasn't at all surprised. It had been a matter of variations on a similar theme news wise for a while now. The Order of the Phoenix had been doing all it could to hold back the rising force of You know Who's death eaters, and the small army the ministry employed seemed to be always involved in one battle or another. But despite their best efforts the enemy kept getting stronger and between killings and disappearances our troops number seemed to decrease daily. I knew that some young wizards had already been drafted. Oliver had told me only recently that the two eldest Weasley sons had been sent to Romania to help with the war effort with only twenty-four hours notice.
That night as I watched the growing storm from our bedroom window I had tried to imagine how Mrs Weasley must have been feeling, but unless you have children I don't suppose you really can. I could only assume she felt worse than I did at that moment and I wondered to myself how she found the strength to put her own pain aside and offer comfort and support to her other children. I supposed that had to be the key. She was strong because she had to be. Where I was to find my strength I didn't know. I had no one to offer comfort to and no one to be comforted by.
I lowered my gaze to the crisp almost white sheet of parchment in my hand, scanning its contents again, desperately searching for a mistake I knew I would never find. It was so cold and formal this letter. Just one of many. From the Ministry letterhead at the top, through the officially worded contents with its spaces to add name/date here, right down to the duplication of the ministers signature at the bottom of the page. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the windowpane. A single tear rolled down my cheek mirroring the falling rain that ran in streams down the other side of the cold glass. And for the first time in my life I preyed that morning would never come.
AN: This is my first OW/KB fic and it is also my first fic written in the first person. This is from Katie's POV. Please R&R and let me know what you think. It's a one shot ficlet at the moment but if you would like me to continue it let me know. Thanx.
* * *
Storm clouds rolled together across the blackness, making the darkened sky appear as a monochrome pallet of violent brushstrokes, painted by an artist whose soul was burdened with an unbearable amount of despair. As I sat at the window staring into this brutal maelstrom of whirling clouds through the lead lattices I could empathise with that soul wholly, if I didn't know that it was imposable I could even have believed that it was I moulding the scene with my mind, transferring the grey sadness in my heart onto the night sky. Then the despair would subside and anger would flash through me, white and hot, it was then that the lightning would strike.
It is remarkable how in the space of one day the world can change so totally. When I awoke that morning the autumn sun was breaking through the slight opening in the bedroom curtains, casting a thin line of warm light across the centre of the bed. Only changing its path to allow for Oliver's still sleeping form. I lay there as I had many mornings before and watched him sleep. Taking in the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The barely audible sound of his breathing, and the look of almost ethereal peace on his handsome face.
I had always had difficulty understanding those who admitted to taking pleasure from watching the sleeping countenance of the one they loved. I suppose I had always felt it was an act that had no place outside of a romance novel. But now I understand entirely. When you love someone with all your heart and soul, the thing you want most in the whole world is for them to be happy and content. When I see Oliver lying beside me so care free, so unaffected by the worries of the waking world I feel a kind of glowing peace wash through me and in those moments all is well with the world.
Since the return of You Know Who four years ago, happiness and contentment were emotions that had been getting more and more elusive with each passing month. Every witch and wizard went about their daily lives the best way they could and there were moments of joy in all of our lives still. And yet it was there always, in the back of all of our minds. We were at war. And if You Know Who's following continued to grow at the rate it was. It is a war, which sooner or later we would all have to fight.
Lost in my thoughts I traced the line of light across Oliver's abdomen with my finger. He stirred slightly and let out a diminutive sigh. Looking up I noticed that his eyes were now open though still a little heavy from sleep. When he spoke his voice was still groggy making his accent broader than usual. 'Morning beautiful.' I looked away and smiled a warm blush painted my cheeks; I never was very good at receiving compliments, even from Oliver. I know that it's ridiculous, we left school ages ago and he ceased being my captain long before he became my lover, but I suppose I became so used to him calling me Bell and barking orders at me that it took a while to settle into a non Quidditch based relationship, and we had, mostly. Quidditch would always be there, this is Oliver Wood we're talking about after all. Besides we have been known to take a trip down memory lane for a little game of captain and chaser (usually after one too many drinks). Honestly if someone had told me six years ago that Oliver Wood had a Kinky streak I would have laughed at them. This thought made my blush deepen even more and it was a moment before I found my voice 'Morning' I kissed him lightly before snuggling into his chest wrapping my body around his, taking comfort from his warm skin and musky scent. I could feel him tracing lazy patterns across my back with his fingers as he kissed the top of my head. It was one of those moments that you never want to end. Then he spoke.
'You were watching me sleep weren't you?' Apparently Oliver had no intention of indulging in a quiet, comfy early morning cuddle. He knew only too well my thoughts on watching people sleeping, or at least he thought he did. I was sure that if I had looked up at him at that moment I would have seen a very smug look plastered across his face. But I didn't look up, mainly because I was blushing again and in his eyes that would have been an admission of guilt. All right so I was guilty. I was as guilty as sin and then some but there was no way he was going to know that. So instead I did what anyone in this situation would do. I denied it.
'Don't flatter yourself sweetie, It's bad enough having to see you awake, at least then you don't drool' I was reasonably pleased with this come back, I had managed to deny his accusation and throw an insult back at him, it should have worked. Oliver unfortunately seemed to have an answer for everything this morning. 'How would you know whether I drool or not if you haven't been watching me sleep?' I tried to think of a response but I could feel him looking at me. He knew he had me. In the absence of a witty come back I did the first thing that came into my head...I bit him. Not hard, just enough to let him know I was growing tired of this conversation. My adorably annoying boyfriend was having none of it. He laughed and pulled me up his body so that I could not avoid looking him in the eye.
'You were! You were watching me sleep because you love me.' His lips had formed themselves into an almost maniacal grin and his eyes sparkled. The amusement he felt proved contagious and I giggled despite myself. In struggling to get free of the grip he had around my waist I only succeeded in making it easier for Oliver to shift our weights and pin me down. That boy never was one to give up easily. 'Admit it Bell and I'll go easy on you.' Composing myself I banished my giggles and feigned a steely resolve. My answer was short and to the point; 'Never' thinking back I never intended it to come out as a challenge, but I'm glad it did. Oliver raised one eyebrow and looked at me as if he was a hunter and I was some hitherto undiscovered prey. It was a look I know well, 'Never you say? We'll see about that. I have ways of making you talk.' And he did make me talk. In fact he made me sing like a little tweety bird. Everything had been so perfect. Until that damned owl arrived.
We had finally dragged ourselves out of bed and were sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast when we heard the tapping at the window. Oliver stood to let in the large tawny owl, which landed on the back of his chair. I busied myself buttering more toast as he untied the post form the owls' leg and depositing the money for the paper before it flew away into the already darkening sky. Sitting back down at the table I watched Oliver as he went through our mail, I figured mostly bills. Since they cancelled Quidditch for security reasons we had been getting lots of nice red ones on account of neither of us making as much money as we used to.
He dropped the prophet onto the table and stood turning one of the letters over and over in his hands. His eyes seemed to cloud over and his brow furrowed. I swallowed my pumpkin juice and leant back in my chair regarding him carefully for a moment. When he didn't speak or make any move to open the letter he was holding I began to get worried. 'What's the matter?' There was still no response. He looked as if he was a million miles away. I raised my voice a little in an attempt to bring him back to the here and now. 'Oliver?' When our eyes met I got the feeling he still wasn't quite all there. His face had become pale and his hands were shaking slightly. 'It's a letter from the Ministry.' My heart sank. I knew instinctively what it was, we both did. I tried however to remain optimistic, or at least to cling to my denial for as long as I could. 'It could be anything Oliver really. Open it...it might be a fine or something.' The word's that left my lips seemed calm enough but the voice speaking them rang with a rising panic.
Oliver sat next to me at the table and slowly opened the official ministry stationary envelope. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the letter enclosed within. Knowing that if I did my worst fear would be realised. When I heard him fold the letter and slip it back into the envelope I opened my eyes and looked at him. He met my gaze firmly, 'I've been drafted. I have to leave tomorrow' any emotion that should have been present in his voice was gone; the sound was hollow, almost lifeless. It was the voice of a person who is resigned to their fate. I realise now that he felt he had to be strong for me. That is something I will never forgive myself for, it should have been me being strong for him, maintaining the pretence of a positive mental attitude. Instead I held him as if my life depended on it and tried desperately to stop the tears stinging my eyes from falling.
We stayed like that for what seemed like an age. Finally Oliver spoke. 'I'd better let my parents know.' I pulled away from him reluctantly as he continued; 'I'll apparate up to their house now before they go out.' I smiled and stroked his cheek tenderly with my thumb. I wanted nothing more than to yell 'Don't go, don't leave me.' I wanted to lock the world outside and spend every moment of the time we had left in his arms. But I knew he was right. If anything were to happen to him. Were he not to come back and he hadn't seen his mother before he left it would kill her. This last thought sent a bolt of pain shooting straight through my heart, Please Merlin don't let anything happen to him.
I sat on his lap and kissed him deeply, feeling the intense connection we had to each other coursing through my body, subconsciously storing the memory so that I could relive it many times over in the time to come. We broke away from each other slowly our foreheads touching and I gathered my strength to say the words 'you should go, you don't want to miss them' Oliver nodded slowly as we both rose from the chair together. He gathered his things and the letter and prepared to leave. 'I wont be long.' I merely smiled and said 'give your mother my love' he nodded again and held me close to him, speaking quietly into my ear 'I love you.' I took a deep breath and held him even closer. 'I love you too.' We parted reluctantly and with a quick smile and a quiet pop he vanished.
I sat back down and tried to take in what had just happened. My brain wasn't functioning very well, it seemed to be stuck on 'He's leaving...tomorrow. And he might not come back!' In an effort to banish these thoughts from my mind I reached for the newspaper. Oliver would be fine, he would, he had to be. I wish now that I had chosen a different distraction. There it was on the front page. An operation in Italy, a failed operation. No death eaters captured, twenty of our troops dead or missing. This was exactly the last thing I needed to see. Sweet Merlin why Oliver? Why now?
The worst thing about the article was that although I was upset by it I wasn't at all surprised. It had been a matter of variations on a similar theme news wise for a while now. The Order of the Phoenix had been doing all it could to hold back the rising force of You know Who's death eaters, and the small army the ministry employed seemed to be always involved in one battle or another. But despite their best efforts the enemy kept getting stronger and between killings and disappearances our troops number seemed to decrease daily. I knew that some young wizards had already been drafted. Oliver had told me only recently that the two eldest Weasley sons had been sent to Romania to help with the war effort with only twenty-four hours notice.
That night as I watched the growing storm from our bedroom window I had tried to imagine how Mrs Weasley must have been feeling, but unless you have children I don't suppose you really can. I could only assume she felt worse than I did at that moment and I wondered to myself how she found the strength to put her own pain aside and offer comfort and support to her other children. I supposed that had to be the key. She was strong because she had to be. Where I was to find my strength I didn't know. I had no one to offer comfort to and no one to be comforted by.
I lowered my gaze to the crisp almost white sheet of parchment in my hand, scanning its contents again, desperately searching for a mistake I knew I would never find. It was so cold and formal this letter. Just one of many. From the Ministry letterhead at the top, through the officially worded contents with its spaces to add name/date here, right down to the duplication of the ministers signature at the bottom of the page. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the windowpane. A single tear rolled down my cheek mirroring the falling rain that ran in streams down the other side of the cold glass. And for the first time in my life I preyed that morning would never come.