Masquerade
Trudging down a dank and dirty backstreet in the heart of London, world famous Quidditch Keeper Oliver Wood drew his thick black coat tighter around his tall, lean frame. Grunting at the cold, he quickened his pace and after a few minutes of solid walking arrived in front of a mouldy wooden door. Raising a gloved hand he knocked twice before taking a step backwards and waiting, watching his breath turn into mists of fog amidst the gentle snowfall of icy snowflakes.
'Who goes there?' asked a deep voice from behind the door.
'Oliver Wood, under invitation.' Oliver replied in a thick Scottish accent that he'd not lost during the four years of living in the centre of the rough and grimy city known as London.
'Who by?' enquired the voice again, somewhat less gruff than before at the realisation it was talking to a wizarding world icon.
'Alan Munroe and the rest of the male contingent of Puddlemere United.' Oliver answered somewhat impatiently – he was freezing his Scottish ass off out here.
'Oh right.' said the voice with an air of stupidity, 'Come right in Mr. Wood.'
Rolling his eyes, Oliver stalked through the now open door and past the bulky bouncer. Taking off his coat and handing it to the doorman, he walked into a warm and busy nightclub looking place, full of poles, sequins and scantily clad women.
'Oliver, over here mate!'
Looking around at the sound of his name, Oliver spotted Alan and the rest of his team mates beckoning him over to a large booth which they were sharing with two very beautiful, half naked women.
Raising an eyebrow, he walked over and sat down somewhat reluctantly next to the brunette woman who instantly grinned – Oliver could have sworn he'd heard a faint 'cha-ching' emit from her from somewhere.
'How you doin' sugar?' she asked in a husky voice, batting her thickly mascara-ed eyelashes at him.
Choosing to ignore her, Oliver turned to Alan who was sitting across from him, his green eyes sparkling in amusement at his friend's obvious discomfort.
'What exactly is the point of this?' he asked Alan who gave a laugh and looked at him sadly.
'Ollie, mate… We're here to do you a favour! It's been three months since you and Katie split up and you haven't dated a single woman. We talked about it and we're all sick of your sulking, so we decided to bring you here.' Alan replied with a grin.
'And the point of that was?' Oliver repeated, still not quite seeing the point.
'To make you forget her! Mate, you're the most eligible bachelor in the wizarding world and well, if any girl ditches you over an alcohol induced kiss with a very sexy blonde, then hey – why remember her!' Alan exclaimed, waving his muscular arms around in the air to enforce his speech.
'Oh.' was all Oliver had for a reply.
He was about to say something more when a tall, thin man walked up to the table.
'Ah, good evening sirs – which one of you is Mr. Wood?' he asked in a silky smooth voice that matched his slicked back hair.
'Me.' Oliver answered dully, raising his hand slightly.
'Ah, but of course.' The man said enthusiastically, taking Oliver's hand and shaking it wildly. 'Please sir, come with me.'
Looking at Alan, Oliver hesitated.
'What exactly is this about?' he enquired with a slight note of panic in his deep voice.
'You'll see, get on over there and find out you idiot!' Alan said, jumping up and pushing Oliver out of the booth.
'Erm, ok then…' Oliver said as he was lead over to an adjoining room.
'She'll be here in a minute.' The man said with a wink before closing the door and leaving Oliver sitting on an intricately designed chair alone in the dimly lit room which smelt of roses and alcohol.
Looking around the room, Oliver raised an eyebrow – who was "she"?
His question was instantly answered though, as the door opened and in strutted the most beautiful woman Oliver had ever seen in his life.
Tall and willowy with long mahogany hair, she was dressed in a tight, short black chemise; an ornate gold mask covered the top half of her perfectly sculpted face, showing only deep sapphire eyes, smooth skin and blood red lips. She walked with a perfect grace that complimented her outstanding figure and the immensely high gold stilettos that she moved about in without a single hesitation made her long legs seem to go on for miles.
Gulping and trying unsuccessfully to shut his gaping mouth, Oliver stared at her as she haughtily walked over and leant against the wall right in front of him.
'I take it you're Oliver?' she enquired in an even, rich voice.
Oliver swallowed and tried to reply, but his voice seemed to have deserted him – a strangled squeak emitted from his throat, which made her lips twitch in a restrained smile.
'There's no need to be scared, I won't bite.' She said in a seductively neutral tone, as she adjusted one of the many silk straps that crossed her shoulders and back. 'Oh, well I won't bite hard…' she added as an afterthought with a playful smile.
Shaking his head, Oliver tried to snap himself out of the estranged reverie he'd managed to slip into.
'Dear me… This girl really has broken you up, hasn't she?' she said, shaking her magnificent head sadly. 'Ah well, it's my job to fix you.'
Walking over, she slipped himself onto his lap and took his face in her hands.
'Forget her.' She said throatily in his ear, flicking her wand at the stereo which immediately began to play music.
Now I'm of consenting age to be forgetting you in a cabaret.
Somewhere downtown where a burlesque queen may even ask my name
As she sheds her skin on stage
I'm seated and sweating to a dance song on the club's P.A.
The strip joint veteran sits two seats away
Smirking between dignified sips of his dignified peach and lime daiquiri…
'My name is Anne, by the way.' She whispered as she gyrated on his lap, running her perfectly manicured hands over his chest.
To his utter shame, Oliver let out another strangled squeak.
Not able to help herself, Anne laughed – a laugh that Oliver could've sworn he recognised from somewhere.
'Oliver, I truly am not that scary… Now come on, say something to me – I do so love Scottish accents.'
Clearing his throat, Oliver managed to get a grip on himself.
'Erm, what do you want me to say?' he asked stupidly as she unbuttoned his shirt by one hole.
And isn't this exactly where you'd like me
I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know
Praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety
Oh, and isn't this exactly where you'd like me
I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know
Praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety…
'Tell me about this girl, Katie… Was she beautiful?' she asked, slipping her hand inside his shirt and tracing her nails over the exposed skin which heated up under her touch.
'Yes…' Oliver said truthfully. 'Very, very beautiful.'
'As beautiful as me?' she enquired with a slight smirk, placing a light kiss on his jaw line, sending shivers down his spine.
'Yes.' Oliver replied again as Anne stared at him in amazement.
'Wow, you really did love her… Why did you break up?' she questioned, running her lips down his neck and leaving a trail of crimson lipstick down his tanned skin.
'I… I cheated on her.' Oliver answered, with a slight stammer, amazed at his comfort in telling the stunning stripper about his love life in the middle of a lap dance.
'Ah, now that's not very heroic.' Anne whispered in his ear, unbuttoning his shirt all together now so that his entire torso was exposed.
Oh, but I'm afraid that I Well, I'm afraid that I
Well, I may of faked it
And I wouldn't be caught dead in this place
Well, that's right, that I may have faked it
And I wouldn't be caught dead in this place…
'No, its not…' Oliver admitted with a shrug. 'Hang on a minute, aren't you supposed to be stripping for me: not the other way round?' he asked in confusion, taking her hands and holding them away from his body.
Laughing, she shrugged.
'I've heard of the famous Oliver Wood body and decided to see it for myself.' She said, leaning in and kissing him.
Hesitating for a split second, Oliver wondered why on earth this all seemed so wrong, but ultimately decided to disregard that fact before kissing her back.
And isn't this exactly where you'd like me
I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know
Praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety
Oh, and isn't this exactly where you'd like me
I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know
Praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety…
The lap dance forgotten now, they slid off the chair and onto the timber floor. His tongue rolling against hers passionately, Oliver caressed her thighs as she moaned slightly at his touch. Breathing heavily, he made to take off her mask, but she stopped him.
'No, the mask stays on.' She said in a commanding tone, that Oliver shuddered at hearing – her voice sounded so familiar.
Well, I'm afraid that I Well, I'm afraid that I
Well, I may of faked it
And I wouldn't be caught dead in this place
Well, that's right, well I may have faked it
And I wouldn't be caught dead in this place…
As they resumed their kissing and caressing, memories began to flood Oliver's mind mercilessly.
Katie laughing as she shot past him on the broom he'd bought her for her seventeenth birthday… The look on her face as he told her he'd cheated on her… When her brother had died in a freak Quidditch accident… The tears on her cheeks after their last fight… The first time they'd slept together…
And isn't this exactly where you'd like me
I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know
Praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety
Oh, and isn't this exactly where you'd like me
I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know
Praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety…
Sitting up and sending Anne sprawling, Oliver let out a hollow moan.
'Oliver? Oliver, what's wrong?' she asked gently, reaching out to stroke his face gently as a lock of mahogany hair sprang from its ornate gold clip and trailed down her face… A lock of hair that looked so familiar –
'Who are you!' he asked all of a sudden, jumping to his feet and backing away.
'I told you, my name is Anne.' She said, her voice changing from a sweet seductive tone to an all too familiar voice.
'I know you…' Oliver said, reaching out for her mask.
'Not the mask!' she shrieked, slapping his hands away. 'I'll call security!'
Pinning her to the wall as she kicked and screamed, Oliver reached behind her head and tore off the beautiful mask to reveal a tearful pair of sapphire eyes… Eyes that when he'd last seen them had been blazing with a fire of hurt and hate as their owner had been screaming and throwing things at him.
'Katie?'
Her name echoed off the room's walls in the silence as Oliver stared at her in utter shock.
'I… you… no way…' he stammered, screwing his eyes shut and then opening them again. 'You look amazing.' He blurted out before he could stop himself.
'Thank you.' She said modestly, all traces of the confident stripper she'd been impersonating moments before having disappeared without a trace.
'Why, Katie?' he asked quietly, as she wiped the tears away, smearing her cheeks with mascara.
'I had to see you again… Just one last time.' She whispered as the tears threatened to fall again.
'Katie, I… I thought you hated me.' He said in amazement as she sniffed pathetically.
'I did… But then I thought about all the reasons that I fell in love with you before, and they outweighed the reasons I had for hating you… But I was so scared that you'd never talk to me again after what I did and said to you, so I didn't come and see you.' She said as the tears began to fall thick and fast onto her heavily made up cheeks, swirling around in the foundation and trickling down her face.
'Katie, I never stopped loving you.' Oliver said throatily, reaching out to wipe the tears away. 'I nearly killed myself with guilt for what I did to you.'
'I know…' she replied, holding her hand over his hand on her face.
'But why this?' he asked, still somewhat confused.
Smiling bashfully, she blushed a brilliant scarlet.
'Well, you see, I have friends that work here, so when I talked to them about you and what had happened they came up with the idea to do this… And well, as much as I hated hurting you more, I was tempted to have a go at this whole "so sexy and confident it hurts" kind of thing the girls have going here – you know that I've never been secure about the way I look.' She said with a small giggle as Oliver smiled.
'Katie, you are the most beautiful woman I know – stilettos or no stilettos.' He said, pulling her back into his arms as she began to laugh. 'I'm so sorry I hurt you.'
Smiling, she kissed him gently.
'I know.'
'Forgive me?' he enquired with a playful pout.
'Definitely.' She replied with a grin.
'Brilliant. Turn the music back on and lets get to it!' he exclaimed as she laughed at him.
Rolling her eyes, she picked up her mask from the floor and made to tie it back on her face.
'No, the mask stays off.' Oliver commanded, taking it from her and chucking over his shoulder. 'Your face was always so damn sexy.'
'Ah, and your entire body was always so damn sexy, Oliver Wood.' She purred in return, pushing him onto the chair and straddling him again.
'That's me – Oliver "Sexy" Wood.' He said with a stupid grin as she snorted and flicked her wand at the stereo.
'What does that make me?' she asked before kissing him gently.
'Incredibly gorgeous and the most beautiful woman I've ever seen...' He replied with a seductive growl in his thick Scottish accent.
'Oh, I do so love a Scottish accent.' Katie whispered in his ear sexily between kisses.
'I do so love you Katherine Anne Bell.' Oliver whispered in return as they fell to the floor in a heated embrace of kisses and touch.
Praying for love and paying in naivety
Praying for love and paying in naivety, oh…
hey all...
i know this is different, but i hope you like it...
the song is: 'but its better if you do' by Panic! At the Disco - my favourite band!
Anyway, hope you like it - please review!
Love,
Ash xx