A note about the rating: Hi! So, I'm keeping the rating "T" for now, but beware while reading this chapter. I really don't know if it's too mature or not. If you think that the one particular scene (oohhh...) gets too explicit, can you please tell me so that I can up the rating to "M". Thanks, and enjoy the chapter. :)

The Moments That Define Us

First Love

Tears of joy stream down my face, and I wear an expression that is mirrored by every over member of our team. Hugging and crying and laughing and screaming we fly in a group towards the pitch, the euphoria of having finally won the House Cup welling in our hearts.

Harry grasps the snitch above us all, proving the end of this epic game, and merlin! We won, we finally won!

As we all land on the pitch, high-fiving and hugging, unwilling to let go, we hear the cheer of the crowd. A tidal wave of red crashes upon us, the sound of their joy is deafening. Oliver leads the team straight to Dumbledore, who hands over the great silver trophy.

All of the Gryffindor's stare at it in awe, as Oliver raises it above his head. His face is red, and his smile seems to split it in half. I've never seen him so happy, and it makes me proud to see him up there.

All this time, the crowd pushes our team together, all itching to get to touch the cup, the quidditch house cup, in Gryffindor's possession once again. Oliver holds the trophy high, and kisses it. The crowd roars some more, and I notice that the gleam in his eyes isn't unlike that which I see when he appraises me.

After shaking the cup over his head with glory, he hands the cup to Harry, who is immediately lifted off of the ground by the twins and carried towards the castle. Chants of "Gryffindor" fill the air, as the crowd follows, nobody in Gryffindor will sleep tonight, because the celebration party with last until dawn.

I feel somebody grab my hand, and look up to see Oliver grinning down at me. He squeezes it slightly, because nobody can be heard over this noise, and we get pulled with the current of Gryffindor's, ecstasy filling our hearts.

Once in the Common Room, the party commences. Harry leaves the teams immediately to seek his friends, then Fred and George disappear in search of drinks and food. Angelina, Alicia, Oliver, and I talk with Lee Jordan about Malfoy's terrible foul on Harry, and are interrupted multiple times by the hundreds of overjoyed Gryffindor's that insist on congratulating us. The Weird Sisters play from some unknown speakers, and Percy can be heard above the crowd telling the younger kids to stop jumping on sofas.

Half an hour into the party, which has now developed a small dance floor and has conjured snitches flying over the party, Fred and George return, baskets overflowing with food and drinks levitating at their sides.

"We have food!" Yells George above the music and chatter.

"And drinks!" Adds Fred. The Baskets drop onto a coffee table, and people gather around them to see what's available. Fred grabs two bottles of something that I haven't seen before and heads in our direction.

Handing a bottle to Angelina he declares "Only the finest firewhiskey for you, my dear."

"Why thank you," Angelina giggles, graciously receiving the open bottle from Fred and taking a generous swig.

"Only for the winning scorer." Fred says seriously, draping an arm around Angelina's waist. She leans into him, smiling impishly in Alicia's direction. Unfortunately, Alicia was already chatting with George, a firewhiskey in hand, so she doesn't notice. I feel Oliver's arm around my waist tighten a bit, and I look up at him. He leans down, and whispers into my ear, his breath tickling my skin.

"I'll get us some butterbeer, and we can go somewhere else. Okay?"

I nod, grab his hand, and we weave through to crowd towards the drinks table.

Oliver grabs one bottle, telling me we can share, and as an afterthought grabs a large cookie, from an almost empty basket. Then we proceed to the grounds.

***

The sun is low on the horizon, creeping towards the hills that surround this great castle and I lay my head against Oliver's chest with his arms roped around my waist. The cookie has been reduced to nothing and the bottle of butterbeer lies empty on it's side. I feel Oliver silently kiss the top of my head and sigh softly.

"You played well Kates." He tells me for the hundredth time today.

"You did too, dearest captain." I respond, identical to all my other answers.

"Honestly, your goals were amazing," he insists.

"As were your stops." I reply calmly.

"Ms. Bell, just take a compliment will you?" he demands, a smile discernible from his tone.

I move swiftly, removing his strong arms from my waist, slipping away from him, and then turning around to sit my legs folded under me, facing him directly.

I eye him, absorbing his face, his body, our situation in these beautiful surroundings. His neck is arched slightly, leaning his head against the birch tree by the dark lake. His eyes are closed and his arms have fallen limply by his side. His dark brown hair remains windswept from the game, and his crimson tee-shirt clings slightly to his muscled chest, Gryffindor pride blatantly displayed.

"Mr. Wood," I say, tugging playfully at the hem of his denims. He looks towards me, the fervor in his eyes as they look me up and down, reminding me exactly of the moment when he held the house cup. I feel slightly self conscious in my orange, v-necked, relatively short, summer dress, but I return his gaze boldly.

"Yes, Ms. Bell?" he answers, a smile playing at his full lips.

"Telling me that my goals were amazing is no compliment, it's a fact." I tell him smugly.

"What would a compliment be then?" He asks, eyebrows arched questioningly.

"I can't tell you..." I tease.

"Well, you are beautiful." He tells me, "but that's a well known fact as well."

I blush profusely, unable to maintain eye contact, so I play with the hem of his denims again.

He leans towards me, lifting up my chin, so that we are a breath apart. My breaths are hesitant, and my heart is hammering against my chest. His lips graze my own ever so slightly, sending my nerve endings into overdrive. Then, as I feel myself leaning towards him to deepen the kiss he withdraws, shaking ever so slightly, as though it was nearly impossible to pull away.

"The feeling of your lips against my own blows my mind," he continues musing, rubbing his thumb absently over his bottom lip, "but that's a fact too..."

He trails off, leaving us in a sexual tension filled silence. He's looking at me, a hint of a smile on his face, and every bone in my body is urging me to tackle him, defeat him with kisses. All I want now is a good snog, and the electric air that surrounds us only fuels this need.

Without my minds permission, my body pulls me towards him. My knees pad forwards along the grass, until I'm straddling him. I look down at him, an incontrollable smile flitting across my face, and he looks up, his eyes filled with something that can only be described as lust.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and bend down so that our lips are level.

They brush ever so slightly, as I softly tell him, "no need for compliment's then..."

And then he leans forwards, and all of the air around us seems to be upgraded to high voltage because he's wrapping his arms around my waist and I'm running mine through his already messy hair. And he puts pressure on my mouth, and it feels as if a burning flame has enveloped me in a heated world where we are the only people alive.

His warm hands travel down my back and back up again, tracing some unknown pattern of heat and passion that runs through my body, and one of his hands goes lower, lower than he has ever dared to before, fingering the hem of my dress slightly, as if pondering different actions.

Meanwhile, my hands hold his head as close to mine as possible, and his lips are open, and we we breathe the same breaths, and his tongue is in my mouth, and it elicits a deep moan from the back of my throat, to which he shudders slightly.

So I push back, leaning into him deeper, his back pushing against the tree, arching so that our bodies can be closer, and then we're on the ground, and I'm lying directly over him, using my arms to keep me up as we continue kissing with more fervor than ever.

And he's leaning over me, his hands dangerously close to a place that I'm not ready to consider yet, but our tongues are still dancing together, a deep sultry samba. Behind us, the sun is setting and everything feels perfect, and my hands have found his hair again, and I draw him as close to me as possible, though it isn't near close enough. Still, he groans slightly, which encourages me even more.

At my side, one of his forearms props him up and he begins to trail kisses towards my jaw, leaving small fires at every spot his lips touch. Reaching my collar bone he proceeds down my neckline, and I'm reminded that I'm dating a seventeen year old, where stuff like this is normal.

But, Merlin! I want him so bad, and the feeling of his other hand inching up my thigh sets off no warning signs, I just feel lust take over my body, and I pull him closer still.

His lips reach the top of my right breast, and my body shakes from the pleasure of the feeling of his lips against my body, because it feels so right. The strap of my dress has fallen off of my shoulder revealing a bra strap and his hand is now under the hem of my dress, still climbing slowly and steadily to it's destination.

"Oliver..." I moan slightly, my eyelashes fluttering, and I feel his passion filled eyes look up at me.

Suddenly his hand is out from under my dress, and his lips are nowhere near my body, he pulls away instantaneously, fear replacing the lust in his eyes. He is on his feet, straightening out his shirt and jeans, and attempting to flatten his well mused hair.

I stand up too, pulling back up my strap, and pulling down the hem of my dress self-consciously.

I'm beginning to realize what I was about to do there. It shocks me a bit, I'm only fifteen after all, and barely so.

Oliver is staggering towards me, hands held out and he takes both of mine in his.

Looking into my eyes he tells me, "I'm so sorry Katie. Merlin! What have I done?!"

He looks terribly troubled, and grief is written all over his face.

"Nothing, Oliver. It's okay, you haven't done anything." I whisper.

I remove my hands from his, and stroke his cheek consolingly, trying to figure out what I've done wrong.

He grabs my hand away from his face, his eyes betraying the most uncontrollable pain. He cups both of my hands in his own and brings them up to his face, where sorrow is still etched clearly.

"I can't believe I let myself do this..." He says, mostly to himself, so I don't say anything.

"I mean, you're only bloody fifteen!!" He whispers harshly, despair clear as ever.

"Oliver, it wasn't your fault. It takes two-"

"I almost let it happen," he interrupts me, "I didn't have control over myself."

I look desperately into his eyes trying to convey understanding.

"I can't keep myself in check around you Katie! It's like a child in Zonko's for the first time, I just want..." He trails off, and his eyes find some blade of grass to focus on, as he is too ashamed to look at me in the eye.

I can't think of anything to say so I wrap my arms around his neck, kiss him softly on the side of his jaw, and then bury my head into his shoulder, holding him tightly. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around my waist, staying safely in the middle, and squeezes tightly.

"Do you still want to be my girlfriend?" He asks hesitantly.

"Of course," I answer swiftly, leaving him no time to doubt.

We stand there in silence, until I withdraw slightly, and look up into his dark eyes, now rid of desperate emotions.

"Ollie?" I ask quietly.

He pulls away from me and pulls me down to sit beside him, facing the sunset, his arm securely around my waist.

"Yes?" He asks.

I don't answer, leaning into his shoulder, having lost all will to speak.

He doesn't prompt me, and stays silent as well. It's a comfortable silence, that allows the air drifting between us to be the only connection we need.

***

And when the light is almost gone, and the a cool breeze starts enveloping my bare legs, we get up to walk back to the entrance of the castle.

On the final flight of stairs, I pause, remembering suddenly what I had wanted to say.

He looks back at me, a torch behind him leaving a pleasant glow on his tan face.

"I love you." I whisper

I watch his face in silence as he registers what I've said. Shock, confusion, worry, and then a warm smile that grows larger by the second.

I smile back hopefully. And he leans down to give me a chaste kiss on the lips, not at all dissimilar to our first kiss.

"I love you too." he murmurs on my lips, before embracing me with his strong arms.

We stand there for a minute, both processing what we had said, and what it meant.

I don't know what comes next in our relationship, but if love overcomes everything, I'll be fine.

After all these years, Oliver Wood was my first love.

sappy. sappy. sappy.
Merlin, I really poured it on this time.
Anyways, you all got quite a long chapter here, anything you wish to comment on?
Well, in addition to what my rating should be...

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and one chapter left...