Hiiii! So sorry for being so late with an update. I'll make it known here and now for all my fics (even though I'll say it there) that I've been struggling with terrible writer's block and everything else. I don't need to go into detail. Anyway, here's chapter 7 and I'll be promptly working on another one to post sooner to make up for my absence.
Remember, regular font: ''...blah...'' is Oliver's human form speech.
In italic: '...blah...' : is Oliver's thoughts while in swan form.
-...blah...-: is Oliver's swan speech. (note bold and regular font.)
Chapter Seven-Unknown Admission
That night...
''C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. Can't you finish any faster?'' Graham whispered impatiently to the oven in the kitchens that night, waiting on the timer to 'ding.' He's been floating on air all day since he talked with Oliver and he's just anxious to tell someone about it. To tell the swan about it, yeah...that's it. Telling Flint would be a terrible idea and telling the others would be a gamble, depending on whether they'd actually listen or not. Right now, he just wants these damn cranberry-orange muffins out of the oven!
One minute later and the timer rings. Graham turns off the oven, grabs oven mitts and pulls the tray off the rack, popping each steaming confection from its mold while trying not to burn the piss out his hands.
''Perfect.'' One dozen mounds of golden brown with fruit flecks baked wonderfully.
He gingerly placed two muffins upon a plate and slid them over the counter. Dumbledore was coming shortly for another sample. In impeccable timing, Albus glided through the door with that never-ending twinkle in his periwinkle blue eyes.
''Ah, Mr. Montague. I see your recent baking is finally completed. Thought it would have been a few minutes later.''
"It's normally anywhere from twelve to fourteen minutes depending on the ingredients, Professor. Pumpkin is a little more stubborn, or at least it has been for me. These, however, aren't pumpkin. They're cranberry-orange. Careful, they're still hot."
Dumbledore took one muffin and bit into it, savoring the burst of citrus and tangy-sweet fruit. ''Delicious. I must declare you've outdone yourself yet again."
Graham nodded and gave a light smile in return. Not too broad, like his father always instructed. ''Thank you, sir."
"Any chance I may have an assorted basket closer towards Christmas?"
"Of course. Just write down what flavors you want and I'll prepare it."
Joy flickered across that grandfatherly face. "Fantastic. I shall." He claimed the second muffin and started off. "Goodnight, Mr. Montague and.." he returned a smile. "..have a pleasant evening."
Graham stared after him, stuffing a few muffins into his pockets. 'He knows about my excursions. There's nothing that man isn't aware of, is there?'
Ambling down the darkened rolling hills, Graham happily made his way to the lake, hoping the swan would already be there. He was. The white bird casually hovered over the water, scoping a place to land. Montague observed him landing upon the rock this time so he sat underneath the hanging willow branches, drawing his robes closer to his body when the chilly winds rustled through them. Slyly, he pulled out a muffin and let the breeze carry the scent, snickering once the swan locked eyes with him and began waddling over.
'What you make tonight? The smell intrigues me.'
"Good evening. Thought this would have caught your attention. It's my newest batch: Cranberry-Orange muffins. I'll give you the privilege of having the first bite, if you don't count me giving the first two away to Dumbledore.''
'Dumbledore knows? Oh yeah, you told me. Nevermind.' Oliver was too busy listening to that smooth-as-honey voice and sniffing the muffin. Graham pinched off a fluffy golden piece from the top and sat it in his palm. The swan slowly ducked his bill, careful not to bite or peck, then claimed it.
"Here, why don't I break it up for you and let you eat it from, uh..." on his left, he grabbed a rock and pulled out his wand. Muttering a handy transfiguration spell, the stone transformed into a higher-set dish, enough to where his feathered friend didn't have to crane his neck so low. "There we are. Better?"
Oliver dove his face into the plate for an answer.
''Glad I could be of assistance." Biting into his own muffin, Graham tentatively reached out and stroked a tiny spot on the swan's head.
Oliver stopped in mid-chew. That was the first time Graham's ever touched him, well...like this and in an affectionate manner. It actually felt nice. He loved it when people touched his head. It mostly likely came from all the times he'd curl up on his mother's lap when he was technically a cygnet and she'd pet his feathers. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy (eh..feathery) inside. He'd turn to mush in their hands. Quickly devouring the last of his muffin, Oliver waddled closer and inclined his head, giving subtle permission.
Graham raised an eyebrow and kept petting. ''Didn't think you'd let me. I took a gamble when I touched you. Wild swans normally don't allow it.''
'I'm not your average wild swan.' Oliver let out a swan purr, craning his head further and extending his neck. Graham took his cue and glided fingers down his delicate neck and across his spine. Oliver shuddered wonderfully, fluttering those tailfeathers.
The Snake laughed softly. "Struck a nerve, haven't I?"
'You've struck a whole bunch of nerves. Do it again.' he closed his eyes while Montague continued, loving every stroke from beginning to end. 'Merlin, if you're this good with your hands at cooking and Quidditch, I wonder how you are under the sheets.'
"I've never witnessed a swan adjusting so quickly to human interaction. A part of me thinks you must have been a pet at some time but escaped. I think it's a good thing you did if you were. Swans aren't pets. They're supposed to fly free like any wild bird. On the other hand, you might have been safer back home in captivity. Although, even if you're home, there are no guarantees.''
Oliver almost nodded, remembering the instant he was attacked right near his manor. 'You could say that again.'
"So..." Graham readjusted himself, grabbing yet another muffin. ''...on a lighter note, today was the best I've had in a long time."
'Really?'
"Wanna know why?"
'Sure. I'm all...uh..ears?'
''Today, I got to talk to my crush without arguing. I have NEVER been able to do this in all the years I've stayed here because he'd fuss and fight with my mates, or he'd have people flocking around every time I'd get near him. His friends and mine don't get along very well, as you can tell."
Oliver looked up at him, his heart sinking slightly. 'You...have a crush on someone? Already? Who is it?'
Graham bit his lip cutely, his cheeks in a blush. ''I've never told you who I'm crushing on, did I?"
The bird was about to blow his cover and shake his head. 'No. Come on, tell me!'
"Well, his name is Oliver."
Oliver's brown eyes lit up instantly and he stared widely out into the dark. 'What?! You do?! It's me?!'
"Yep, Oliver Wood. Headstrong Gryffindor, captain of his Quidditch team and all-around popular guy. Oh, man.'' The Slytherin laid his head back on the tough bark, exhaling softly. ''I can't tell you how long I've fancied the bloke. You should see him. He's about an inch or so shorter than I, short medium-brown hair, eyes of such a rich chocolate tone, golden skin and a body to kill for. He is the most beautiful creation the gods have ever placed upon this earth."
Too bad you can't see a blush on a bird's cheeks because it's loud and ever present on Oliver's face. He swallowed, nervously taking a bite of the muffin to collect himself. He had no idea whatsoever that Graham fancied him. The Snake never gave a single indication that he did. His aloof and partially cold attitude certainly proved the opposite, especially when he ripped twenty-five points away from Gryffindor and some more over the last month.
'Wow, Graham. I've...I've never thought you'd say stuff like that about me. You really think I'm beautiful?'
"You should hear his voice. He has this sexy Scottish accent and every time I hear it, I just want to kiss him all over.''
The swan gulped, fluttering his wingtips. 'You do? I wouldn't mind if you did.'
Graham's blissful countenance faded, his dark eyes took on that solemn gleam. ''Don't know if I ever will."
'What? Why?'
''You see, I'm trying to be hopeful now that we're starting to get along but there's this part of me that says I still won't have a chance in hell. Every where I see Oliver, he's almost always with someone or in a group. I don't exactly count Percy Weasley in this since they're best mates and he's dating Marcus Flint.''
'Ehh..Flint. Please don't ruin the moment with his name.'
''When I said Oliver was popular, I meant it. It never fails to see a bunch of girls flock to him when he walks in. I get why they do. The sun shines on him and he lights up the room when he does. They're always gushing over him, batting their eyelashes, pushing out their chests, or asking him to hang out at Hogsmeade or where-the-fuck-ever. Few guys do the same thing. What's terrible about it is not once did I ever see them want to speak to him about who he is or what he wants when they decide to chat him up. They think all he does is live and breathe quidditch and joke and laze about. It's not all Oliver is, it can't be. Why others don't bother to look deeper, I dunno."
Oliver looked at the ground in thought. 'I dunno, either. When you put it that way, I've noticed that too. The only person here who had really put forth interest in my wellbeing was Percy and I have yet to hear anyone else.'
It kinda sucked when someone whom you thought was an enemy actually knew more about what you wanted than those closest to you. Secretly, Oliver did want somebody to see past the quidditch-obsessed exterior to what was truly underneath, even if it was by luck he'd find someone who'd accept his nocturnal problem and the lack of nighttime intimacy that's going to come with it. Maybe Graham would be his chance? Only time will tell and as of this moment, he's delighted that Montague's feelings are mutual and this makes it easier at attempting a friendship, then a relationship.
Graham sighed. ''Think there's really a chance Oliver and I can be together?''
'I think fortune's smiling upon you already.' Positioning his webbed feet, the swan hopped up into the Snake's lap and laid his feathered head upon his chest in an attempt to be cute.
Montague chuckled, stroking his feathers. ''Well, I can take that as a yes, huh? You're quite enthusiastic in your responses, you know that?''
'Yep!'
About thirty yards away, several voices chatted loudly, snapping Graham and his feathered companion out of their silence. ''Oh, no. How the hell did they find me?'' The swan poked his head over his arm and peered in that direction. He saw about six dull blobs but couldn't make out their exact identities, but upon hearing Graham's question, he had a pretty clear idea who they were.
''Oi, Montague! There you are. Wondering where you've been sneaking off to." It was Flint who boomed, trudging his way over with Warrington and the other room-mates in tow.
Graham rolled his dark blue eyes. ''Why did you even look for me? I don't bother you when you're fucking Weasley.''
Flint shot him a crooked grin, about to retort when his icy blues lowered onto the white blob in Graham's lap. ''Really? What the hell is with you and birds, Montague?"
"You too good for people now?" Warrington teased, looking him over.
"No, I'm not."
"Eh, could have fooled me. You hardly hang with us anymore." Terence pointed out.
Graham silently bit back. 'I'd hang out with you a little more if you guys ever fucking listened to me.' "I felt like being by myself for a change. Is that a crime? And since when do I have to justify my nightly outings to any of you?"
"Jeez, Montague. Don't have a cow, you're not on trial here." Flint lazily placated, stepping over a tree root to get a closer look at the both of them.
Oliver started to cringe. 'Why the hell are you eyeing me like that? Get those creepy things away from me!'
Graham immediately noticed him recoil further into his chest. "Back off a bit, Flint. You're scaring him."
"How? I only wanna get a good look at 'im. You're not such a bad little bird now, are you?" He reached his dinner plate-sized hand closer to attempt petting him. The swan's eyes narrowed on the incoming digits.
'If you don't back off right now, Flint, I'm gonna...' He clamped his beak upon Flint's thick fingers with all his might, letting go when a loud growl escapes his mouth. Oliver fought the urge to spit. 'Bleh! Nasty! I am NEVER doing that again!'
Graham shook his head. "Told you."
Marcus glared. "He fucking bit me!"
"And?"
"And? I'm gonna ring that bloody bird's neck!"
Instantly, Oliver shoots up from Graham's lap and fucking goes off, squawking, hissing, and wildly beating at the Chaser with his wings.
'-Don't you touch me! Fuck you! Take that! And that! And that!-'
Flint struggled to get away, almost falling flat on the ground. "Get- Get off me! Go away!'' he shouted as his mates laughed at his expense, completely tickled their big bad captain was fighting a bird and nearly losing. Dodging a large wing that could actually break a human arm, Flint reared back a hand to smack him off.
Graham jumped up and barked, getting in the middle of both him and his companion. "Don't you dare! One hit from you and you'll kill him!"
"And I'm supposed to let him attack me? You're crazy!"
"If you had stepped back like I said, this wouldn't have happened!"
Knocking off a small flurry of feathers, Flint grunted irritably. "Whatever. Just keep that little shit away from me. Next time, he'll be dinner."
Graham rolled his eyes while Oliver waddled over to his right, indignantly shaking his tailfeathers. "Yeah. I'll do that."
"Good. While you hang out with you bird friend, I'm heading back inside. We're going over a new strategy in our dorm tomorrow so don't come in too late." Flint stomped off but not before threatening the rest with a severe beating if they told anyone about this.
Terence grinned. "This was an interesting evening, don't you think?"
"I suppose."
"All right. See ya."
He left snickering, leaving Graham shaking his head and looking down at his feathered friend. "Sorry about Flint. He's a little thickheaded."
Oliver huffed, kicking a webbed foot. 'You're telling me.'
''Honestly, you'd think he'd know to read body language, and I mean any sort of body language from anyone, not just Weasley's.''
'Flint's a fucking dumbarse. Don't make any excuses for him.'
Graham sighed and squatted beside Oliver, petting him gently. "Are you ok?" The swan replied by leaning into his hand. He smiled. "I'm glad. I didn't want him to hurt such a beautiful creature."
Oliver inwardly nodded in agreement, reluctantly admitting. 'Me too. I don't think I would have survived if he struck me in the chest, especially in this weaker body.' Montague glided his fingertips along Oliver's spine once more and rose to his feet. 'Where ya goin'?'
"I figure it's time to call it a night. I'd stay out longer but you heard Flint. I have to be alert while he's going over the strategy. Surprised he opted to come looking for me. Anyway, I'll see you later and I'll bring a different treat next time. Goodnight."
Oliver slightly hung his head as he quietly bid him goodbye. Their nice night was fucking ruined by Flint and his peanut gallery sauntering up to their spot liked they owned the place. He really considered heading to another location but he thought 'No.' Graham probably wouldn't be able to find him and would believe he left, thus ruining their chances of possibly making a deeper connection and Oliver wasn't going to have it. He's going to stick this out and hope they don't come back. Most likely they won't because he attacked Flint.
'Boy, that felt fucking good.' he thought, shaking out his wings. He actually got a few good knocks in, which he can't always do in the halls. Truthfully, full-grown swans have been known to break bones and Oliver hoped he could do that once, just once, to put Flint in his place for a while. Staring out in the darkness until Graham's form completely vanished, Oliver flew across the lake and up to one of the castle entrances, still slightly brooding over earlier. A few waddles in, his swan ears pick up a disturbance about two meters ahead. A pair of low-set familiar eyes were locked in on his position, creeping closer and closer.
''Mrrooowwww...''
'Oh no, sweetie. This is NOT the night to be messin' with me!'
The swan stilled and lowered his head to face Mrs. Norris as her light steps turned into a canter. Oliver's feathered shoulders stooped lower, his wings spread further. He stamped his webbed feet from side to side, feeling that adrenaline rush through his veins.
'All right! If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get! Come here! RAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!'
Bellowing a fierce swan's war cry, Oliver charged and the greatest bird-feline battle ever was fought in the silent halls of Hogwarts.
The next morning when Percy and Oliver were walking the corridors to breakfast, Percy noticed Mrs. Norris carefully treading past them to slink off somewhere.
"My goodness. She's missing clumps of hair, she's also with a slight limp. What happened to her?"
Oliver stared ahead with a stoic look in his eyes. ''It was a battle of epic proportions."
"Oh god, Oliver. You beat up a cat."
"Hey, she was coming after me, ok? She deserved it. At least I was in animal form and it leveled the playing field."
Percy had to give him that. "Well, try not to do it anymore."
"Aw, I don't think she'll try again." With one snarl directed at her, Mrs. Norris quickly fled the scene. "Stupid cat should know her place."
"After that animal kingdom reversal, I think she will."
Yes! Graham spilled the beans and now they're getting somewhere!
*Snorts* I had to do it. I had to make Oliver fight the cat. It was coming! XD Anyway, I hope this satisfies you for a little while. I'm currently working on another in between the rest of my fics. Thank goodness for coming out of a rut! :D (Anyone with me on that one?) :P
