An Awkward Trip
Sam huffed as she crossed her arms in front of her, choosing to stare out the window of the SUV and ignore Oliver who sat to her left, as they headed down to London. It was a long drive so their families always went down the day before, staying in The Leaky Cauldron before heading to Kings Cross the following morning. While Sam's dad always preferred traveling by floo due to the convenience and safety of it, it had gotten a bit tedious with all the luggage. The Woods had managed to convince him that they would be perfectly safe making the eight-hour drive in their SUV and so it became tradition. Granted during the Christmas break when the two teens had less luggage, they opted for floo. Even though Sam had been certified for apparation since spring, her father insisted she only use it sparingly, afraid she'd splinch herself.
He really was insufferable with all his safety concerns.
They had been in the car about three hours and Sam had yet to say more than a curt "Good Morning" to Oliver, garnering odd looks from all four parents. Agatha and Celeste had filled what would have otherwise been a long, quiet ride with light conversation in the seat in front of the two, while Roger and Alan were having a lively discussion about the upcoming quidditch season in the front.
Sam glanced at Oliver out of the corner of her eye, noticing he was just as devoted to staring out the window. She could keep up the silent treatment all year if she had to. She was sticking to her guns on this one – she wasn't going to speak to him until he finally apologized and agreed to support her new relationship.
Huffing slightly, she reached down and pulled out her portable cassette player and headphones from her knapsack and pressed play. She had a couple tapes she made over the summer in her bag, though the rest were in her truck, stored next to a year's worth of batteries. She let the rock music pour through the headphones, fueling her anger as she leaned against the window.
Oliver glanced over at her before reaching into his rucksack and pulling out his own player.
Once his headphones were in place and he was back to staring out the window, Celeste glanced back at the two sullen teens and then looked at Agatha.
"Blimey, what do you suppose has gotten into those two?" she asked softly. Agatha glanced at them and chuckled.
"They're teenagers. Sure, it could be a number of things," she said, rolling her eyes slightly.
"Suppose it's got something to do with the beach trip?" Celeste asked, glancing at the two men in the front who were still too wrapped up in their quidditch discussion to pay attention.
"Reckon that might have something to do with it – whatever it was they argued about," Agatha said with a sigh.
"She still won't tell me what all of this is about. I tried again last night after you all left and she refused to talk about it and locked herself up in her room," Celeste said with a sigh.
"Seems a bit unlike her. And seems a bit unlike them to have a row like this. But I'm sure they'll make up before they get to Hogwarts. They never could stay mad at each other long," Agatha reassured her. Celeste nodded slowly as she sighed.
"One can hope."
It was early evening by the time Alan Wood had pulled the SUV up in front of the muggle entrance to The Leaky Cauldron. Roger had hopped out and run in to take care of the rooms while the rest slowly climbed out of the car and stretched their legs a bit before moving to unpack the luggage. Sam and her mother wandered into the Leaky to get the room keys. Sam had hoped to take a shower before supper. Long car rides always made her feel grimy.
"What do you mean there's been a mistake?" she could hear her father shout. Sam rolled her eyes as she and her mother approached the front desk. He was always blowing things way out of proportion so assumed he was angry over something as mundane as having a room facing the wrong way.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Abbott. You must understand, Mary's new. It was an honest mistake," the owner said soothingly to the irate man.
"But we reserved these rooms ages ago! Two sets of adjoining rooms! Four rooms total! Not one set of adjoining rooms! How difficult is that?" her father shouted, his voice going up a pitch. Her eyebrows raised as she glanced at her mother. Celeste sighed and quickly stepped up to her husband's side, ready to try and placate him.
"Again, I'm so sorry. I wish we had discovered this earlier so we could remedy it, but truth be told, with the Express leaving tomorrow, we just have the one spare room open," the owner said.
"Then I suppose we'll just have to take our business elsewhere," Roger said indignantly.
"'Fraid you'll find it the same everywhere else, Mr. Abbott. Everywhere in Diagon Alley is fully booked," the owner said. "Unless you tried a nearby muggle hotel-"
"We will NOT be staying at muggle hotel," Roger shot back.
"Dear, what's the matter?" Celeste asked soothingly, placing her hand on his arm. Roger looked down at her.
"They've gone and given us only two rooms and there's only one more open. THREE ROOMS," he said. Celeste frowned slightly.
"Well, what's wrong with that? Sam and Oliver have shared a room before," she said.
"But, but… they're TEENAGERS. You can't put them in the same room!" he shouted. Sam glanced behind her, noticing the Woods had stepped in just in time to hear her father's latest outburst. Oliver's cheeks had turned slightly red. Celeste stared at her husband a bit before looking back at Agatha, who seemed to be smiling slightly. She nodded at Celeste, who turned back to Roger.
"Roger Abbott, calm down right this minute. It is not the end of the world. You heard what he said, everywhere else is booked. We'll never find another set of rooms. Now, we're all tired from the drive. So, I suggest we just take the rooms. Oliver and Sam are fine sharing a room. And it's next to ours, so I assure you, nothing will happen," she said. Sam felt her own cheeks heat up as she looked down at her feet, intently studying her somewhat battered Converse sneakers. She could hear her father sputter a bit.
"Fine," he said resignedly. Sam glanced up in time to see her mother smile and then reach out for the keys. She then pulled Roger back with her towards the group.
"Here you go, Sam," she said lightly, handing her a key. Sam looked down at it and then back up at Oliver, who seemed to be intrigued by something on the wall. The small look of triumph on Celeste and Agatha's face immediately told Sam that they were obviously up to something - no doubt thinking that placing Oliver and Sam in a small room together might force the two to work out whatever tiff was going on. Sam sighed and started up the stairs. If she was going to be forced to share a room with Oliver, at least she'd get a shower in now while he was helping with the trunks and such.
About 20 minutes later, Sam turned off the water, feeling a bit more at ease after a hot shower. She reached out and grabbed a towel, patting her body down before running it over her long hair. She then wrapped it around her, and looked for her clothes, while trying to tame her wet waves with her fingers. Stepping towards the pile on the floor, she noticed they had gotten wet somewhere in the midst of her shower.
"Bugger," she muttered as she looked at them and then at the door. She stepped over and pulled it slightly open. The room was empty and she saw her trunk sitting under the window. Another glance around proved that the room was, indeed, empty. Smiling, she opened the door all the way and walked over to the trunk, reaching down to open it with one hand, while holding the towel tightly around her with the other.
She had just reached down to grab some clothes when she heard the doorknob turn behind her. She quickly grabbed at a shirt and pair of shorts and try to dash back to the bathroom before the door opened, but only made it about halfway across the room before Oliver swung the door open and stepped in. He immediately froze, eyes wide as Sam squeaked and ended up dropping her clothing and nearly the towel.
Cheeks turning red, she frantically reached down to grab at them while still trying to hold her towel up. Oliver's eyes fell on the lacy blue bra and he quickly looked away with a sharp intake of breath.
"Sorry!" he shouted. "I thought… You were in there awhile…"
"It's fine!" Sam shouted at the same time, still trying to gather up everything. She glanced up, noticing he was still standing in the open door. "For Merlin's sake, in or out! I don't want the whole bloody place to see me in a towel!"
Oliver's face reddened even more as he stepped in and slammed the door behind him, then immediately regretted the decision as he was now in the room alone with a naked Sam wrapped in a towel.
"Please, Woodsie, it's not like you haven't seen me naked before," Sam said, regaining some of her composure as she stood, gripping her clothes and her towel to her front.
"Yea… but we were kids," Oliver said, still trying to advert his eyes, though he couldn't help sneak glances out of the corner of his eye. Sam huffed slightly and walked over to the bathroom. Oliver looked over, noticing the towel was rather on the short side.
Immediately he looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of anything other than Sam. The sound of a door shutting told him Sam was safely in the bathroom and he slowly let out the breath he had been holding in and walked over to one of the beds, falling face-first on top of it.
What had their parents been thinking? There was no way he was going to make it through one night of sharing a room with Sam.
After a slightly awkward dinner with neither Sam or Oliver looking at or acknowledging the others' presence, everyone had retired to their rooms for the night. Oliver had noticed a few of his housemates down in the tavern and was tempted to go back down for a chat and perhaps a butterbeer or two while Sam had shut herself in the bathroom, likely changing into her pajamas.
He sat on the bed going back and forth for so long that soon enough, the bathroom door flew open and Sam stepped out, now clad in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She seemed nearly as surprised to see Oliver still sitting on his bed.
"Thought you might be downstairs. Saw Perce and the twins," she said nonchalantly as she walked over to her trunk, placing her neatly folded clothes on top. "Think Harry's staying with them as well."
"Thought about it, actually. Could probably chat with Harry about the season - he's the only one I haven't been in touch with over the summer," he said. Sam glanced over at him and then walked over until she was standing right in front of him, her hands on her hips.
"Alright, Woodsie. I know our mums did this on purpose, so let's just… make a truce," she said. Oliver looked up at her, eyes wide.
"A truce?" he asked. Sam rolled her eyes.
"Yea. Just… we put on a good front for them until we're on the Express tomorrow. Unless you want to apologize," she said sternly.
"I'm not apologizing. I did nothing wrong," he nearly shouted, a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You're the one off dating a bloody Slytherin."
"And I'm going to keep dating him. There's nothing you can say that would make me stop," she said.
"Oh yes, there is. I have half a mind to go tell your father right now!" he shouted, standing. He towered over her, but still managed to get eye-to-eye, granted he had to hunch a bit. Sam's eyes widened.
"You wouldn't," she said.
"Just watch me," he said, pushing her aside and making for the door. Sam reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him back with an astonishing amount of strength.
"You tell them and I'll tell your parents you've been sneaking into your father's stash all summer! And that you've got more than a few bottles in your trunk!" she shouted. Oliver chuckled as he pulled himself out of her grip.
"Who do you think gave it to me?" he replied. Sam's eyes widened as she looked around frantically, trying to think of any secret big enough to keep him from walking next door. She finally looked up at him as he put his hand on the doorknob, settling on one.
"I'll tell them you've been skivving off practice this summer," she said. Oliver looked over at her, a bit a dubious.
"But I haven't," he replied. Sam cursed under her breath, knowing there was no way they would believe that anyway – he had been training with his father after all. She then looked up and smirked at him, crossing her arms in front of her.
"Perhaps I should also tell them about how you nearly flunked Potions and didn't get into Alchemy because of your marks, not because the class was too full," she said. "Or that I've been writing half your essays for years. Wouldn't they like know just exactly how you're keeping your marks up." Oliver let go of the doorknob.
Sam knew his grades were a low blow. It took a lot of help from Sam – both with tutoring and with her convincing various professors to give him a chance as well as a few, less than kosher tactics, to keep his marks up high enough that he could continue playing. If she told them the truth, they'd take him off the team in a heartbeat, even though they wanted him to go pro just as much as he did.
"Fine," he said. "I won't say anything." Sam smiled slightly, happy she won. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going down to see about better company."
"Fine. Go," Sam said, walking over to the other bed and picking up a book. Oliver sighed and walked out. This was a nightmare.
"'Lo, Wood! How's Abbott?" one of the twins called as he made his way downstairs. He collapsed on a bench across from them and ordered a butterbeer. After the latest argument, he was seriously tempted to get a firewhiskey. He glanced around the room, noticing that it was nearly empty and Percy was nowhere in sight. Must already be in bed.
"She's in a right state," he muttered as a butterbeer appeared in front of him and chugged half of it. The Weasley twins stared at him a moment before they started smirking. They had long been plotting to get the two best friends together and it seemed like this year just might be the year they could finally put some of their plans into work. The tension between the two had been obvious even from across the room. Even Percy had commented how the two seemed unnaturally awkward around each other.
"Ah, lovers' spat, is it?" George asked. Oliver frowned at him.
"No. Why would you say that?" he asked before his eyes wandered to the server, thinking he just might get that firewhiskey.
"Just things seemed a bit awkward with you earlier," Fred replied.
"Ah, well that's because someone made a mistake with the rooms and now we're sharing one for the night. Accidentally walked in on her in a towel," he said, waving someone over and ordering a firewhiskey. The server glanced at him and then over at the twins but finally walked over to the barkeep after Oliver had convinced him he wasn't about to share with the underage wizards across from him.
He completely missed the look that passed between the twins.
"Bet that was a glorious sight," George said. "Sam always was one of the fittest girls in our house." Oliver frowned at him.
"Don't talk about her like that," he snapped.
"Like what?" Fred asked innocently. "Truth be told, I wouldn't mind spending some quality time with her in a broom closet."
Oliver slammed his hand on the table, effectively shutting the twins up.
"I said, don't talk about her like that," he said through gritted teeth. The twins were silent a few moments before bursting into laughter.
"I knew it! You DO fancy her!" George shouted.
"Seriously, Wood. How could you think I'd want to do something like that with Abbott?" Fred replied. Oliver just stared at the two.
"I do not fancy Sam," he retorted as the firewhiskey appeared and he downed it in one gulp.
"You obviously feel some sort of way about her from that reaction," George said. Oliver rolled his eyes, wishing Percy had been downstairs rather than the twins. There was no way he was going to have this conversation with them. But, on the other hand, he was not about to go back upstairs where a likely still irate Sam was still awake.
"I just… you two know I always look out for her," he grumbled. "She's like a sister to me."
"That's a load of bollocks, and you know it, Wood," Fred said. Oliver narrowed his eyes at him, but then just a suddenly, it seemed like the fight left him.
"We had a fight during the beach trip, but it's not about that," he said, returning to his butterbeer and contemplating another firewhisky.
"What on earth could you two possible fight about for this long?" Fred asked, genuinely surprised. Oliver contemplated telling them but decided not to. Chances were it'd be all over school before they even made it on the train. And despite the current atmosphere between the two friends, he wasn't about to betray Sam's trust.
"Can we please talk about something - anything - else?" Oliver begged. The twins looked at each other and nodded. While they were kings of pushing it, they could tell this was one of the moments where they should back off. Besides, they were already formulating a plan.
"You hear about Sirius Black?" Fred asked. Oliver looked up at him and nodded.
"Sam's dad mentioned it at dinner last night," he said. "They're looking for him."
"Heard our parents arguing about it - they think he might be after Harry," George said, lowering his voice as he glanced around the room. Oliver frowned, confused as to why the deranged former Death Eater would be after his seeker.
"Why's that?" he asked.
"Well, he is the reason Harry's parents are dead… told Voldy where they were and all before blowing up all those muggles," Fred said. Oliver nodded slowly, not knowing that.
"Suppose it's something to keep in mind. Does Harry know?" he asked. The twins shook their heads.
"Mum doesn't want him to know, but Dad thinks he should," George said. "They don't know we overheard them, so we're keeping our mouths shut."
"Yea, we'd likely get a nasty Howler if Mum found out we were the ones who told him," Fred added. Oliver nodded.
"Well, he's safe at Hogwarts, so not like there's anything to worry about," he said. "By the way, how was Egypt?"
The twins launched into lively tale after lively tale about their trip, successfully entertaining Oliver for an hour and to the point that he had nearly forgotten about the fight with Sam. It wasn't until he was standing outside the door to their room that he remembered she was likely still up. Sighing, he pushed the door open and looked in. Relief filled him when he saw her passed out, book on her chest.
He quietly walked in and grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt then disappeared into the bathroom to change. She was still asleep when he reemerged. He stared at her a moment before taking the book, marking her place and then setting in on the bedside table. He then pulled the blankets up, covering her, and turned to crawl into his own bed. Glancing over at her again, he couldn't help but feel sad that things were so mucked up between them. All he wanted was to go back to how things were. Sighing, Oliver turned out the lights, settling into sleep.
Another day, another chapter...
twilightlover427 - Won't lie, took forever to figure out where I was going with this one. But I'm pretty happy with it. And I suppose I was stubborn about finishing it after going through so many versions, haha!
Thanks for reading, folks!