Angelina sighed as she fell back onto her bed.

"Why didn't you ask Fred about what was said?" I asked her as I picked up my schoolbag from the floor.

"It's too complicated."

I looked at her sceptically. "How?"

She sighed again and covered her face with her hands.

"Angelina, do you like him or not?"

She stayed quiet.

"Ange," I prompted.

"I think I do," she said quietly. "But I don't know for sure."

"He definitely likes you," I reminded her.

"I know," she said softly.

"Are you going to wait until he tells you face to face?" I asked, putting my bag back down, realising I really didn't want to do my homework.

"I don't know yet. I don't really know how I would go about confronting him about it."

"How about ... 'Hey, Fred, I was listening to what you three guys were saying too, and I guess I would gladly rip someone limb from limb for coming near you also. Want to come to Hogsmeade with me?'"

She uncovered her face at looked at me. "Very funny, Katie," she deadpanned.

"You can't say that wouldn't be effective."

"What about you and Oliver? Will you ever tell him how you feel?"

"Totally different ball-game, Ange. I have no idea how Oliver feels about me, and I have no idea how I feel about him. I don't know if I will ever feel romantic feelings towards him. He's one of my best friends and I won't jeopardise that."

"Who are you kidding? Oliver's perfect, Katie. The only reason I'm not in love with him is because of Fred. He's completely beautiful, entirely attuned to everything about you and he's head-over-heels in love with you."

"Even if that were true, I couldn't ... date him. We're far too close for that. It would be so uncomfortable."

"How will you know until you try?" she said, looking at me with a knowing look.

I just rolled my eyes and sat on my bed, pulling out a worn copy of Persuasion and began to read.

"Why do you read that so much?" Angelina asked, curious.

I looked at her over the thumbed pages. "I like it?" I answered, laughing.

"But it's so ... terrible."

"Yes, it is. That's why I like it."

Angelina laughed and shook her head at me, and, rolling my eyes again, I turned back to my book.

--

I spotted Oliver sitting at the back of the Common Room when I came down to get away from Angelina's ramblings about Alicia not being back yet. He was scribbling in what I expected to be his play book. I smirked and made my way over.

"Writing more plays, Wood? I really don't know how you expect us to remember them all," I said peering over his shoulder. He glanced at me and smirked back.

"You'll manage. That is, once I've physically drilled them into your head."

I held my hands up in surrender. "Hey, do not come near me with a drill. You're dangerous enough without sharp objects."

I sat down next to him, looking over his play as he continued to scribble away.

"So," I began lightly. "Found a date for Hallowe'en yet?"

His eyes met mine briefly, before he smirked down at his book. "Do you regret asking that?"

I grimaced. "A little, yeah."

He laughed before shaking his head. "I don't date."

"I've noticed."

"I don't see you dating anyone!"

"That's because you won't let me, Ollie," I said sweetly.

He rolled his eyes. "Do you want to date Davies or Diggory? Be my guest. Just bear in mind that they will try to steal these," he said, indicating the book, "and alienate us two," he said, indicating between me and him.

"Hmm," I murmured. "That's probably true. But is it so hard to believe that someone might want to date me just because they want to, rather than having all these ulterior motives?"

"Lee Jordan did."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you really think there was no ulterior motive there? He's friends with the twins, who both want to date one of the Gryffindor Chasers. He must have felt a little left out, and I was the only one left."

Oliver glanced up at me. "You might have a point there," he said quietly, but then shook his head. "But plenty of guys want to date you, Katie. Not all of them are like Davies, Diggory and Jordan. Remember that."

I hummed in response. "So," I began after a pause in the conversation. "Do you want to come with us at Hallowe'en, then?"

"Who's 'us'?"

"Me, Angelina and Alicia. Well, I take it after tonight it'll just be me and Ange," I said, looking over at the Portrait Hole. Then I turned and smiled at him.

He shook his head. "Hogsmeade has lost its novelty after four years."

I frowned. "But you have to go. It's Hallowe'en, Oliver!"

"That's kind of lost its novelty too, after seventeen years."

"Where's your holiday spirit?"

He smirked at me and rolled his eyes.

"Come with us, Ol'."

He shook his head. "No. It's insanely boring down there."

"We'll make it fun," I smiled. "Plus, you'll bring different conversation. You know, it's only been a few hours, but I'm already sick of hearing about the twins." I rolled my eyes. "So, I require you to keep my sanity."

He laughed slightly whist shaking his head.

"You're coming, or else."

"'Or else', what?" he smirked.

"Or else I'll kick you."

--

"Oliver, will you bloody well wake up!" I huffed, glaring at his sleeping form. "Oliver!" He didn't stir. Not a blink. Then I smirked and leant down close to his ear, feeling like some revenge was in order.

"QUIDDITCH!"

He jerked awake, looking at me in shock.

"Hello, Oliver. Nice of you to join the Land of the Living. Happy Hallowe'en."

He blinked at me stupidly for a second, before glaring up at me and rolling over, facing away from me.

"Ol – i – verrr!" I groaned, shoving his shoulder with each syllable.

He growled.

"Since when do you sleep in this late? You're usually up at, what, 5AM?"

"Since it was Hallowe'en, and I don't want to go to Hogsmeade," he muttered.

I shoved his shoulder again. "Come on. Please?"

"No."

"Oliver," I moaned.

He ignored me.

"Oliver."

Nothing.

I pushed his shoulder in frustration, only this time, Oliver retaliated. He seized my wrist in his hand and pulled me over him and onto the bed.

"Please shut up," he said, his eyes closed, my wrist still held in his hand.

"Ow."

"Baby," he muttered.

"Let go," I told him, trying to pull my wrist out of his grasp.

"Nope."

I pulled more fervently.

"Can't you lie still?"

"Nope," I mocked. His lips pulled up into a smirk. Then he pulled me under his duvet, wrapping his arms around me, pinning my arms.

Oh. Oliver Wood has no shirt on.

I stilled, stunned for a second.

His eyes were still closed, his bare arms surrounding me securely.

Okay. Oliver Wood is topless. In bed. While hugging me. Me.

I struggled to keep my heart at its regular beat.

Why am I acting like this? It's not like I haven't seen Oliver without a shirt on before.

Maybe it's just because this felt far too intimate.

"Oliver?" I said, deciding to break the silence.

"Mm?" he mumbled, his breath caressing my face.

I took a breath, trying to calm myself.

"As lovely as this is, I'd really rather like to go to Hogsmeade. And I want you to come with me."

His eyes cracked open. "Why?"

"Because," I pouted.

"Well, I'd really rather like to stay here all day."

I sighed. "Fine. You do that," I snapped. "Let me go."

He looked at me contemplatively.

"Oliver. Let me go," I said firmly, trying to push away from him.

He continued to hold me.

"Let go!" And with a hard push off of his bare chest, I broke free of his arms, and fell off of the bed.

"Oof!"

"Well, that's going to hurt in the morning." I looked up to see Oliver leaning up on one elbow, smirking at me from his position on the bed.

I glared at him fiercely, and stood up. I felt my cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"Are you coming or not?" I snapped.

He just looked at me, a ghost of a smile on his lips, his hair falling into his laughter-filled eyes.

I snarled, humiliated and angry, and stormed out of the room. I rushed down the stairs and barrelled into the Common Room.

"You okay, Katie?" Angelina asked, scrutinising my face, which was probably glowing red.

"I'm fine," I snapped. "Oliver's not coming. Let's go."

I snatched up my messenger bag and black coat from the armchair where I'd tossed them before I'd gone up to embarrass myself. I pulled the coat over my black knit dress and indigo jeans, and threw the strap of the bag over myself before bolting out of the Portrait Hole. Angelina bemusedly followed me.

--

Sorry for confusing some of you with my last author's note. I shant be as confusing with this one. Reviews are appreciated, though not required. Just if you have the time ... :)

xx