Thanks to Iniga for pointing out that I changed Cullen's parentage in the last chapter. I'd originally said that his parents were Unspeakables and I was thinking he was pureblood. Last chapter I made him muggle-born because I was trying to show that Oliver's family doesn't care about blood status. So, I'm going to meet in the middle. Cullen's a half-blood and both of his parents are Unspeakables. Thanks again Iniga and i did correct the mistake in the last chapter.
Firebolt:::
The remaining few days of holiday went by extremely fast, which really isn't fair considering I hadn't even started on my Transfiguration homework. Why must the one subject I suck at be the one that my Head of House teaches? And I swear McGonagall can read my mind…
The day before the start of term, I gather my belongings and floo straight into McGonagall's office.
"Nice holiday, Ms. Bell?" she asks without even looking up from some papers she's reading. Like I said: mind-reader.
"Yes. It was very enjoyable, Professor." Except for my father's depression kicking in shortly after New Year. What can you expect?
"You can leave your trunk over there," she says, pointing to a stack of trunks just inside her door. Yeah, I could have figured that one out on my own, thanks.
"Thank you, Professor."
I walk out into the hallway and there in front of me is Oliver, pacing.
"Oliver?" I question.
"There you are!" he cries once he catches sight of me and then, without further greeting, "Harry has a Firebolt!"
"No way!" I cry, happily. Forget the greeting, our Seeker has a Firebolt!
"Yeah, except McGonagall confiscated it. So now I'm trying to yank up the courage to go tell her she's out of her mind."
"Why'd she take it?" Is she crazy? It's a fucking Firebolt!
"She thinks it's trying to kill Harry."
"What? It's a broom…"
"She thinks that that murderer Sirius Black sent it to him and she's checking it for jinxes or something."
"That bitch," I say sarcastically.
"Can you please be serious?"
"Oliver, I am being serious," I say seriously. "Don't you think it's important to make sure that the broom is safe? Do you want Harry dead?"
"But if he catches the snitch first—"
"Oliver!"
"Sorry. I'm not really thinking straight," he says, slowing his pacing.
"Let's start over. How were your holidays?" I ask.
"Good. Long," he says, pulling me closer as he begins to calm down, and kissing the top of my head.
"Wait a few days," I instruct. "If Harry doesn't have the Firebolt back by then, you can talk to her."
"Thank you," he says, taking my hand. "Now, about the Slytherin-Ravenclaw game…" I just roll my eyes and continue walking.
OoO
I'm sitting on the couch in the common room, trying to finish some—you guessed it—Transfiguration homework when Fred comes over. Without a greeting, he hops onto the couch and throws his legs over my lap, which is covered in school work.
"So, how were your holidays, Katie?" he asks happily.
"Great," I say, shoving his feet off of me. "Oliver asked me out."
"Oh," Fred says, stopping half-way in the middle of putting his feet back in my lap. I just smirk. He sits up straight and shifts around awkwardly. Not sure how to act now that you can't flirt with me every second, are you?
"You okay? Need me to call someone?" I ask playfully.
"So what does that mean?" he asks softly.
"It means I'm going out with Oliver…."
"No, I know that. I mean what does it mean for us?" Surprisingly, I understand that. Fred's like my best friend. I spend so much time with him and I'm so comfortable with him that I've never really thought about what our actions look like to an outsider. We're always flirting—always. We don't really mean anything by it; it's just something to do when we're bored.
"I don't know," I say, confused.
"Am I going to have to stop hanging around you?" Fred asks worriedly.
"I don't think so…."
"Well, can we figure it out because if I can't be around you anymore, then I'm going to have to prepare myself for George. I mean, he's great and everything, but he's just not as good-looking as you. Wait." I burst out laughing and even Fred has to laugh at his mistake. Ha ha—they're identical. I'm cuter than Fred; I'm cuter than Fred…
"He and Alicia just need to get together already," I say, once my laughter subsides.
"Yeah, I've been telling him that for ages—wait! How did you know he likes her?"
"I'm a girl. I know everything." He rolls his eyes.
Fred and I have both never had a real relationship while we've been close friends. He just sleeps with them and he's never met mine. So what does that mean for us? I love Angelina and Alicia, but if I have to talk about the different shades of lip gloss 24-7, I'm going to lose it. Fred's my life line. I guess I could replace him with Oliver, but then it's Quidditch 24-7. Don't get me wrong; I love Oliver. He just has a one-track mind this time of year.
"Can I ask you a question?" He nods. "Why did you ask me out before Christmas?" We sit in silence for a minute.
"Because I realized something, Katie, and it scared me. I love you. I do—but not like that. I'm not in love with you." I give him a small smile because I understand completely. "I was just confusing my emotions. You're like the little sister I never had."
"You have a little sister," I inform him.
"That's not the point. The point is that I don't care for you romantically at all. No offense. Well, wait. As long as you never kiss me again, I'll never care for you romantically at all." I laugh. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I fancy someone else."
"Oh, who?" Never tell a girl that you have a crush on someone. It doesn't matter that she's obsessed with Quidditch and enjoys wearing guy's clothing. We're all born with the gossip gene. Something he said just now registered. "Wait—you mean like an actual crush? Like one that could lead to an actual relationship?" I ask, shocked.
"Calm down. It's not going to happen. She likes someone else." We sit in silence for a few minutes.
"Nothing's going to change between us, Fred. Just keep the public displays of affection to a minimum and I doubt Oliver will even notice."
"Deal."
OoO
To improve "team awareness" Oliver has demanded that we all go to the Slytherin-Ravenclaw game. Together. So that's how all seven of us end up sitting in an empty box towards the top of the pitch, listening to Oliver go on and on about Ravenclaw's strategy.
"We play them next…watch the form here—Fred, are you watching?"
"I never knew Quidditch could be so yawn-inducing," Alicia mutters to me. This match is so bloody boring it's not even funny. It's like an extended History of Magic class. George has somehow managed to fall asleep in Alicia's lap without Oliver noticing and Alicia's absent-mindedly stroking his hair. Angelina's examining her hair for split ends, while Fred, Oliver, and Harry are all actually paying attention—it's funny how they care. I, on the other hand, am just listening to Lee's voice. It's soothing, not having to think about anything for once.
Sure, I want to win the Cup; but I don't see how us being here is going to affect the outcome of the match. If Ravenclaw wins, then we get bumped into last place; but if Slytherin wins and then we beat Ravenclaw, we're in second. Or so Oliver says. I guess that means we're rooting for Slytherin. Weird.
"Now Harry, watch this dive…"
We sat through ten long hours of Quidditch, just to watch Slytherin slip ahead by ten points. It was the most boring game in the history of the universe! But now if we beat Ravenclaw, we're in second. How brilliant is that?
OoO
Later, Oliver and I somehow manage to get the common room to ourselves. And of all the things that we could be doing, he is once again helping me with Transfiguration.
"I give up!" I exclaim after two hours of hard work and throw myself onto the couch. Oliver comes and sits next to me, wrapping me in his arms. I could fall asleep like this…
"That was a pretty good match today," he says.
"Oliver, come on," I argue, laughing.
"What? There may have been some instances when not much was happening, but—"
"Oliver!"
"Okay, it was bloody horrible."
"Thank you," I say, kissing the tip of his nose.
"I really thought that it'd be better than that," he says.
"Well, Alicia enjoyed it."
"Yeah. Who knew George could sleep for ten hours straight." I just laugh even though I know he was feigning sleep most of the time.
"I'm going to have to add more practices," he continues. Ugh…
"Oliver, shut up," I say and press my lips against his.
He kisses me gently and I can tell that he's trying to stop himself from doing what he really wants. I think that in some ways he still sees me as the innocent second year who joined the team two years ago. Obviously, he's worried about moving too fast, and let me just tell you that in my opinion he can't move fast enough. He's leaving after this year, for God's sake. Time's the one thing that we do not have. Frustrated with the slowness of everything, I use my teeth to gently bite his lip and hear him moan in response as he intensifies the kiss. Now that's more like it…
I've never kissed a guy who kisses better than Oliver. Even though he tries to hold back, it's impossible for him to keep his feelings hidden. When I kiss him, it's almost as if he's allowed me to see into his soul for a few blissful minutes.
"Katie, stop," he says, gently pushing me away a few minutes later, after things start getting real fun. "It's too soon."
"Yeah, I know," I admit. "I just wanted you to think about something other than Quidditch for once."
"Well don't worry. It worked."
"Good night, Oliver." I say, sullenly heading for my room.
"Good night, Katie."
OoO
Five team practices a week! Five! Oliver's got to be kidding. When am I supposed to be able to do my Transfiguration homework? Ugh! This sucks. Sure, I love Quidditch. But five practices a week. Damn! If we don't win this match, then I just might have to kill myself.
"Hey, Katie! Angelina! Alicia!" Oliver cries, chasing after all three of his Chasers as we make our way down to breakfast. "Guess what?" he asks when he gets right on us.
"We don't have practice tonight?" Alicia guesses.
"Lee broke up with his bitch of a girlfriend?" Angelina asks bitterly.
"McGonagall's canceling the exam on Friday?" I wish.
"No—better! Harry got his Firebolt back!" We just stand there for a few seconds, Oliver looking overjoyed.
"We already know, Oliver," Angelina says after a while.
"Yeah, he walked into the common room carrying it last night; you were sitting right next to me," I say.
"I was?"
"And then we had a whole conversation about it. Apparently you weren't paying too much attention." I figured that he wasn't at the time, but I am surprised he didn't pick out the word 'Firebolt.'
"I'm sorry. I was trying to work out some new plays.
"New plays?" Alicia asks worriedly. "Oliver, we can't learn any new plays! We only have one practice left before the match!"
"But it never hurts to be prepared." We just roll our eyes and continue on our way.
OoO
Later that night as I arrive in the common room, I see Oliver sitting in a corner bent over his play book. Even though I know he probably wants his privacy, I go over and sit down next to him. Without either of us saying a word, he puts his arm around me and pulls me closer so that I'm able to curl up next to him and rest my head on his chest. Before I know it, I am fast asleep.
OoO
I know it's short but I really wanted to end it right there. I'll update soon to make up for it—promise!
Next time on Love and Quidditch
I dance with Angelina and Alicia for a while, but I'm not really enjoying it. Where the hell is Oliver?
At about midnight he appears out of nowhere and pulls me out of the common room into an abandoned classroom, his only explanation being, "We need to talk."
Those are the four worst words in the English language, let me tell you. When has anything good come out of "We need to talk"?
The sad part is that I know what's coming and I blame myself…