Engagement Chronicles

Chapter 7: Guilt


Oliver lay asleep on the floor in front of the fire place, dreaming of a riveting Quidditch match in which he was, as normal for him, the Keeper. He'd saved fourteen goals so far and his team was up fifty points to zero. They were in no hurry to catch the snitch, but if it came, then they needed to catch it to win, still. Oliver spun in the air when he thought he heard one of his team mates call his name. A gush of hot and humid wind sent him barreling in the other direction.

He spun around again to see the Quidditch Pitch was empty, except for a figure walking out onto the field. He lowered himself a bit, squinting down and trying to see. The heat from that wind was still hot against his left side, even though it had hit him straight on. He raised a hand to his neck and it was hot to the touch. Oliver continued to lower himself to the ground until he was standing in front of the figure. It was wearing a cloak, covering it entirely.

He quickly forgot about the strange heat on his left side and was trying to figure out who, or what, was beneath the hood. His first thought… was a dementor. But he quickly demolished that train of thought because it hadn't tried to suck out his soul. Then he thought of a death eater. But surely, if it was, it would have killed him by now. Why else would it have been there? Then he thought of one of his team mates, trying to make a joke. And then it lowered it's hood.

Sadie. He hadn't even thought of her. Granted she could have fallen anywhere under the death eater category, as her late father was one, she very well may be too. Her hair was pinned at the back of her neck, her skin was a sickly pale, and her eyes were dark and emotionless. Probably from lack of seeing her in quite a while. He hadn't properly seen her in months. He'd been putting Quidditch ahead of everything. Sadie folded her arms across her chest like she was trying to protect herself from him. "You need to wake up, Wood," she sighed. And then she was gone, in a puff of smoke. She disappeared.

Oliver rolled over in his sleep and smashed his head against a coffee table. He awoke, rubbing his nose carefully, he looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly five o'clock. He was going to be late if he didn't hurry. He quickly rushed into the showers, washed, dressed, and was out to the living room again before six. He strode into the kitchen and went straight for the refrigerator, not noticing Sadie, sitting cross-legged on the counter in one of his old t-shirts. He grabbed an apple from a shelf, he bit into it and shrugged into his jacket.

"Where are you going now?" Sadie asked from behind him, making him jump.

"Merlin, Sadie! Just out," he replied, coldly, not at all pleased with being surprised like that. But then he had looked her over. He had no right being surprised when she had clearly been there in the first place, and he hadn't noticed at all. He sighed. "What are you doing tonight?" he asked, just to make conversation.

Sadie shrugged, but Oliver was already onto reading the Daily Profit at the small table in the corner of the room. So he hadn't seen. "Lizzy needs help planning her baby shower." Oliver flipped a page. "Maybe I could go skydiving," Sadie said, to no response from him. "Or run around Diagon Alley in the nude." Still nothing. "Or perhaps murder."

Oliver looked up at her irritably. "Don't leave the house." And then he left Sadie alone.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she replied sarcastically, once he was gone.


Oliver flooed over to, his once-rival, Marcus Flint's home. They were both attending a dinner held just for the Quidditch players and their families. Marcus' girlfriend, of the last three years, stood facing a mirror in the dining room, where their fireplace was, putting small dangly hoops in her ears. "Hello Oliver," she said, smiling, when she saw him through the reflection. He greeted her, and took a seat at the table, waiting for Marcus. "He'll be just a minute," Hannah, Marcus' girlfriend, explained. "He's been working on a new Quidditch formation all after noon." She smiled fondly. Oliver chuckled and stood when she offered him a drink, he followed her to the kitchen.

Marcus came into the room shortly after, tucking his shirt into his pants. He looked around the room. "Where's Sadie?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Oliver. Oliver's own furrowed. When it dawned on him what an arse he had made of himself, he ran his hands through his hair, methodically, until it was completely disheveled. "You didn't even ask her to come along, did you?" Marcus was scrutinizing him as if he were a cockroach on the ground instead of the only team member that got along with him. They had been good friends since their Hogwarts days.

Oliver shook his head and shoved both hands into his pants pockets. His left hit a case. Velvet, by the feel of it. He hung his head. The guilt was just piling up now, wasn't it? He had meant to ask Sadie for her hand months before. He had put it off, with Quidditch. Then, he had got so wrapped up in it, trying to avoid the nervous feeling he got when he thought about asking her. And it had all resulted in practically loosing her. He wrapped his hand around the box and popped it open, removed the ring, and held it up so he could see it. Marcus and Hannah looked on too, a bit frustrated, a bit confused.

Surely, Sadie would never marry him now. He was a complete arse for everything he had, and hadn't, done. And he knew that now. Why he hadn't realized sooner? He had no idea. But he knew enough that it wouldn't have made the situation any better.

Marcus clapped a hand onto his shoulder, spun him around and walked with him into the dinning room. Oliver simply looked down at the ring, ashamed. "Go get her," Marcus said. "We have another half hour until we're supposed to be there anyway." Marcus gave him a little shove towards the fireplace.


When he stepped out of his own fire place and into his living room, he wasn't at all surprised to find it dark and deserted. In the dark, the room looked more over less like a dungeon, maybe because he was suddenly so nervous he'd rather be hung in one and left to die. He shook his head and bit down on his tongue, suddenly determined.

Oliver stalked through the living room and into the kitchen, where the only light on was a candle on the window sill, over the sink. He turned and left that room, crossed the living room once again, and into the door of his and Sadie's bedroom.

He rubbed his forehead and grabbed the handle. Stopped, then knocked.

Sadie opened the door, moments later, wrapped tightly in a blanket she held up to her chin. She looked up at him, her deep indigo blue eyes were teary, though he'd never wish to call her out on it. Especially when he knew it was his fault. He pulled her close before she could say or do anything, like slamming the door in his face, spun and waltzed over to the bed and lightly let her fall back so she was sitting on the edge. She raised a light eyebrow, skeptically, and unsure of what was going on. "I thought you were going out," she said. Her voice pitched higher than usual on the last word and she covered her eyes with her hands for a moment. He gently pulled them away, and gazed deep into her eyes, showing her how much guilt he felt.

He knelt down on one knee. "I don't expect you to forgive me," he started. She let the blanket fall from around her, completely befuddled by his sudden appearance and what he was trying to say. "I know I can't change what I have done. But I'd like to try and make it up to you." Still, her expression never changed. She looked as though she were sizing him up for a straight jacket. And though he deserved it for acting so out of himself lately, he was a bit surprised about it. He took her left hand in his and showed her the ring. "But I need your promise that you'll stick around so I can." Oliver's hands shook as he slid the ring half way onto her finger. "Will you marry me, Sadie?"

Sadie stole her hand away from him, and he felt the reject rush through his veins as if he were suddenly set on fire. But she pulled him close to her and held him there. She was not, by no means, denying him. She was, however, explaining that she would not promise to marry him only to stay long enough for him to prove, to only himself, that he was in the relationship for the long run. And she explained that all, using her Legilimency, as she was to choked up to talk.

He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes again. Great pools of blue, so deep you could drown. "I love you," he told her. And he hadn't, ever, before then. Her grip tightened on his shoulders in sudden alarm. "Which is why I want to marry you."

"Oliver, I-"

He was determined to have her hand now. Even if he was driving her away in the process. But she had misunderstood. He wanted her. Not her promise to stay. Just her. "Will you marry me?"


I kinda couldn't wait to get this chapter over with.. But then it turned out great so Im lovin' it and I hope you do too!

Reviews would be absolutely spectacular!(:

-Slytherinchickk