Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and Co., nor do I own the song which opens the story. The Harry Potter series is ultimately owned by the beautiful J.K. Rowling, and the song was sung by Al Green.

Author's Note: Short one-shot. Just had the urge to write it while I was listening to the song. It has an open ending in case I ever feel the need to continue it.

Wishful Thinker

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone. It's not warm when she's away. Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and she's always gone too long any time she goes away," sang a husky voice from the muggle radio that sat on my kitchen counter. The radio had been a gift from my muggle aunt Marilyn when I moved into my flat a couple of years back. The contact disk had been a present from my darling friend, Katie Bell.

Katie Bell was a twenty-one year old interior designer... for muggles. She also happened to be my best friend. I had, of course, always thought that Percy Weasley was my best friend, but once we left Hogwarts, we drifted. He went on to work for the Ministry of Magic, and I went on to play Keeper for Puddlemere United. I believed whole-heartedly that I had gotten the better end of the deal. Ah... I'm losing my point...

Anyway, even though Katie was three years younger than me, anda girl to boot, she was my best friend. She gave me the muggle music, from a musician called Al Green, after my latest break-up. Which, if I had counted correctly, was exactly one year, eight months, three weeks, four days, and thirteen hours ago.

Yes, I, Oliver Wood (well-respected and extremely wanted) keeper of the Puddlemere United Quidditch team, had not been in a serious relationship in nearly two years. The last relationship, though, had been a horrible one... well, actually, the relationship was fine and the sex was spectacular, but the break-up was horrid. For the first time in a long time, I had been the one broken up with, not the one doing the breaking up. Chelsea breaking up with me wasn't much of a problem either. The problem had been why she broke up with me.

When I apparated back to my flat, completely exhausted from the day's practice, I had expected a warm meal and an even warmer welcome from my long time girlfriend Chelsea Withers (if you know what I mean.) Instead, I found the fiery red head packing bags. I was confused. I was not due for a vacation for nearly three months.

I shook my head, flipping my outrageously long hair from my eyes. With a sigh, I placed my bag of dirty laundry on the floor. "Chels," I muttered slowly, "what are you doing? We can't go on vacation until July..."

I was taken aback when she turned to me with a glare. "You, Mr. Wood, cannot go on vacation until July. Myself, on the other hand, well that's a completely different story. I can go on vacation any time I like."

"You're going on vacation without me?" I asked, more than slightly confused.

Her glare intensified as she threw what appeared to be the last of her panties into her magically enhanced luggage case. Chelsea started on her pants as her grey eyes burned with anger. After a few seconds, she looked back up and sneered. "Wipe the confused look off your pretty little face, Oliver, you look mentally retarded." My mouth gaped, and she continued, "You could consider this a permanent vacation to me from you."

After a few seconds of deciphering the statement, I gasped with a sharp intake of air. "You're breaking up with me?" That little tramp! She had no reason to break up with me, what-so-ever! I was dashingly handsome with my shaggy brown hair, intense chocolaty brown eyes, and defined chin and cheeks. I was amazing in bed! I did not talk about quidditch to her... well not all of the time. Did I mention the fact that I was smashing in the sack?

"Bingo."

I gasped, "But why?"

Chelsea scoffed as her shirts started to follow the rest of her clothing. I watched on as her anger intensified and she flung the shirts into the suitcase. "You don't know?" She spat, "You really don't know?"

"Well, no, Chelsea, I don't know! I've treated you perfectly!"

"Perfectly? Perfectly!" She screeched. She abandoned her suitcase and turned to me. Her left hand rose in the air and her index finger pointed at me in an extremely threatening manner. "You, Oliver Wood, have not treated me perfectly! You've treated me no better than a dog!"

My mouth surely came close to hitting the floor at that statement. She could not be serious. A day had not gone by that I had not treated her with the utmost respect that I should have. I never demanded anything of her, and I always showered her with little gifts. My mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but the only thing that managed to escape was a strangled, "Erm..."

"Honestly! You think I don't know, Wood?" My eyebrow rose in simple contemplation. I did not have an inkling of an idea as to what she was talking about. She turned away from me and finished cleaning out her half of the dresser. She moved on toward the closet where she ripped down dress robes and cocktail dresses from their hangers with a ferocity that I believed was of a lethal level for any woman. As she tossed those in her suitcase, too, she spat, "Oh, I see it, Oliver."

"See what?" I bellowed in disbelief. This woman was absolutely infuriating! Apparently, she knew something about me that I did not want her to know. For the love of all things magical! I did not know what the... well... fuck, for lack of better words, she was talking about!

Chelsea moved on towards the bathroom, her red hair flowing behind her like a rebel flame flying through the air. A few minutes later, she came out with all of her make-up and such. She tossed the things into the bag angrily, and had the situation not been so grim, I would have told her that she would make a really spectacular chaser. I watched in disbelief as she started closing the luggage. With a flick of her wand, the suitcase was made practically weightless. She shrunk it down and slipped it into her pocket.

"Chelsea!" I growled angrily. "Why are you leaving?"

The fiery American girl turned to me, and I was shocked to see a solitary tear running down her alabaster cheek. As she spoke to me, it felt like there were little butterflies in my stomach doing a difficult tango that could only be achieved in flight. "Oliver," she started to take a step towards me, but halfway through, she seemed to think better of it and stepped back. She sighed, "I love you."

"I love you, too!" I defended. I did love the girl... er, I thought I loved her.

Chelsea held up her hand in a soft subduing manner, quite opposite of the threatening tone the hand had managed to make minutes before. "I want you to be happy, Oliver, and before you interrupt me," my mouth snapped shut, "I want to explain some things to you. You may not have realized this, but, honestly, it's hard to miss. Oliver, you're completely head-over-heals for Katie."

I gasped, "I. Am. Not!"

Chelsea sighed. She started walking towards the door. She opened it slowly and right before it closed behind her, I heard her mumble, "You are."

My world caved in around me in likeness to my knees caving in below me. I landed with a hard thump on the floor, and my head soon found a resting place in the cradle that my hands had created. I. Did. Not. Love. Katie. Bell. ... right? Oh God, I actually questioned it.

As my breathing became strangled, I tried to reason with myself. "You are not remotely in love Katie Bell," I muttered while rocking back and forth on my knees, threatening to teeter over at any moment. "Chelsea's crazy. You're not head-over-heels in love with your best friend! You. Do. Not. Love. Katie. Bell."

My heart skipped a beat and my stomach plummeted wildly when I heard the voice of the one that was tormenting my thoughts. "Oliver?" Her voice questioned, sounding dangerously concerned. I, of course, did not reply to her.

Moments later, I felt a soft touch on my shoulder, and my stomach fluttered painfully. What was this feeling! I nearly groaned in fear when she kneeled down next to me and embraced me tightly in her arms. Without so much as a question as to what my problem was, she began to rock me back and forth ever so slightly and whisper condolences to me.

"Oliver," she whispered, and my breath hitched in my throat. Never, at any point in time, had I found the sound of a woman saying my name to be so insatiable as when Katie had said it then. "I won't pretend to know what's wrong," she continued on, bringing me back in from the thoughts of my name rolling off of the tip of her tongue, "but I promise that you can tell me. I'll keep a secret if I need to."

My head began to bustle with thoughts. Should I tell her what happened? Sure, I could, but would she be bothered by the truth? She would probably never want to have anything to do with me ever again! Would it be wise to tell her why Chelsea broke up with me? No... probably not. It would be best for me to tell her that least amount of information as possible.

I pulled away from her comforting embrace and quietly mumbled, "Chelsea broke up with me."

"Oh!" She exclaimed, and in some little part of my mind, it sounded as if she had almost been relieved. Eh, I'm a wishful thinker. "Why did she break up with you?"

With a bit of a laugh, I forced myself, in a joking manner, to say, "She accused me of being in love with someone else!"

"Oh," she sighed out. Her lips took a pouty 'o' shape, and she sounded... hurt? I didn't dwell on it too much, though... At that point, my eyes were focused on her full, supple, and suddenly irresistible lips. How I had wanted to kiss those lips! Eck... not only am I a wishful thinker, I have the worst intentions.

I pushed all inherent thoughts of slipping my best friend the tongue from my mind, and I replied, "Yeah... I'm pretty upset." Okay, so that was the truth. I was upset... About Chelsea breaking up with me? No. I was upset because the whole foundation of the friendship I had formed with Katie was threatening to collapse.

Katie pulled me tighter into her embrace for a moment before saying, "I've got something that will make it better." My heart skipped a beat, but she then continued, "I'll just nip by the house and bring it back."

"Oh." Did I just sound disappointed?

She smiled warmly at me and helped me out of her embrace. Katie apparated away and seconds later she returned with a small square case in her hand. With a small smile, she handed it to me. "It's called a compact disc, Oliver. You put it in that radio your Aunt Marilyn gave you, and it plays music."

"Ah..."

"It's by a man called Al Green. The first track is probably a good one for you," she paused in an unsure manner. "Uhm, yeah, but I've got to be going now. I'll see you later."

Before I could even get in a word of protest, Katie Bell had apparated from my flat. She left me there, a confused pile of quidditch-hunk... and I was almost positive that I saw a tear slip down her face as she turned from me. ...Did Katie like me, you know, in more than a friendly sort of way?

"Penny for your thoughts."

I turned with a smile. Of course, the minute I start to think about her, she appears. I motioned to the radio and said, "I was thinking about the day you gave this CD to me."

Katie ran a hand through her long brown hair, and she said, "That was a long time ago, Ol." She sighed before continuing on, "And you've not had a girlfriend since Chelsea... Are you sure you're not gay?"

"Katie!" I gasped. I had not expected her to say that.

Her airy laugh rang through the air, and she said, "I'm sorry, Oliver, but I do get concerned about you sometimes. I don't want you to be lonely for the rest of your life."

My face flushed, and I snapped, "And what about you, Katie? You've not had a boyfriend for three years. If there's anyone that should be worried about, it's you. I really don't want you to keep on coming around here for the rest of your life because you haven't found a man to shag every second of every day."

In the span of a few seconds, Katie's facial featured spanned from smiling, to a shocked look, and then finally to an angry glare. I saw her right hand twitch, and I knew she was itching to slap me. I almost wish she would have... "Oh, Katie," I moaned in misery... I was such a bastard. "I'm sorry."

"No," her voice was tinged with tears, "I understand that you don't want me around. I just wish you would have told me sooner."

Katie turned to leave, and I felt my stomach flutter painfully. I could either watch from a distance as she walked from my life, most likely forever, or I could stop her... Well, she did have a nice arse... Dammit, Oliver, go stop her!

Stopping her seemed like a good plan to me, so I grabbed her arm. When I jerked her around to face me, light tears were running down her face. My heart sank, and I suddenly felt like the worst person in the world. I gently wiped her tears away, and I sighed deeply. I was the cause of this hurt, and deep inside, it hurt me just as much to see her that way.

"Katie," I whispered, and she looked away. I gently pulled her face up until her eyes were locked with mine, and I continued on, "It's not that I don't want you around because Godric knows that I do. I just want you around too much."