AN: Reminder of the lineup!
Tom Evans – lead chaser
Kieran Dawson – right wing chaser
Katie Bell – left wing chaser
Jordan Meyers – beater
Hannah Hendricks – beater
Oliver Wood – keeper
Charlotte Greene – seeker

AN2: I promised you guys a quick turnaround! So here's the next chapter - actually, I think, the longest in the entirety of Wooden Words. Enjoy and please please please review! (Thank you to imsuchanut, , Elizabeth Lullaby, firewordsparkler, and RonScorpius Lover (I always want to respond to your reviews, but I can't because they're not logged in! But thank you, they're all so entertaining!) for reviewing! You guys are lovely. =])

AN3: Yeah, I changed this to a part II. It just felt like a linked chapter to me.

Chapter Fourteen
Sitting, Waiting, Wishing II
I'm just a fool, learning that loving somebody don't make them love you...

When the time came to head out to the pitch, the team shuffled. The whole room felt strange; I felt out of place, Oliver was trailing along sullenly and even the normally ebullient trouble-makers on the team, Kieran and Jordan, seemed subdued and almost somber. I bit my lip. In all the ways I'd pictured this day going – both good and volcano-erupting disastrous (that actually had been one of the scenarios. Shut up. I have a very active imagination.) – this hadn't been one of the scenes. As the team mounted up, with Bard muttering some last words of advice as he trooped to the stands to bellow from there, I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder. A sudden hope flared in my stomach. I turned, but instead found Charlotte's reassuring smile in my face. The hand had felt too small anyways. "You're gonna be fine," she whispered. "You look a little peaky. We're all looking out for you." And grinned at me – a proper, un-Charlottey mischievous grin, and kicked off. I cut one last look at Oliver, who was absorbed in his broomstick, and followed her up, spiraling into the cool, crisp air.

xoxox

Practice was a disaster. Coach Bard had conjured up hazy, green quidditch player-shaped blurs that darted and flew like the Holyhead Harpies, the first team we were facing, so we could practice the tactics we'd learned.

I don't think I'd ever thought I could be beaten at quidditch by a haze but it was happening. The only saving grace, I'll say, is that I was by no means the worst. Jordan's bludger went straight through one 'player' and cracked into the back of Hannah's head, causing her to curse wildly and fly into Kieran, who scrambled to catch her in midair. Charlotte seemed to lose focus after that, probably shaken from seeing her friend nearly decapitated, and nearly collided with me as she searched for the snitch. I dropped the quaffle not once, but twice as I was being charged by a HH blur which flew right through me, leaving me stock-still and shaking on the spot. The worst, though, was Oliver. Oliver, who'd I never seen lose focus in Quidditch, Oliver who'd never let in a single quaffle in Hogwarts games unless he'd been physically beaten away from the hoops. He was slow, almost sluggish, was fooled by feints he'd normally see through and actually dodged when one blur charged him.

"WOOD! WOOD! WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN'S TROUSERS ARE YOU DOING?"

Even Bard's furious bellowing seemed to do little to wake Oliver up. The team was clearly wrong-footed by Oliver's strange behavior, and try as we could to return from it, we barely could. The score was 50-0, to the hazes, and we were struggling.

I scored the first goal, with a fancy little barrel roll, I might add.

The hazes scored the next two.

What the hell was he playing at?

"What the HELL is WRONG WITH YOU ALL?" I grimaced at the shout.

A bluish blur whistled past me. Charlotte.

She pulled out of a dive, a triumphant hand in the air, much like another dark-haired seeker I'd once known, and the practice ended in complete confusion.*

xoxox

"I really don't know what the hell happened out there, but it cannot happen again-"

"The hazes can't be holographic, Coach!"

"My bludger went right through it!"

"I don't want to hear the excuses!"

"But Coach-"

"The hazes didn't make Wood let in SEVEN GOALS-"

"Ugh," I turned away from the door into the boys' locker room, flicking my wand at it to silence them. "It's like listening to your parents fight, isn't it?"

"Mmm," Hannah nodded, then winced, turning back to the mirror to try to examine the rapidly swelling blue-black lump at the base of her neck. "Ugh. That's just nasty-looking." She sighed and let her hair drop back to cover it. "What an awful practice."

"Terrible." I moaned, lying back on a bench.

"You saved us there, Charlotte, though." Hannah added, glancing over at Charlotte, who was carefully siphoning mud off of her boots with her wand.

"I just couldn't stand it any longer," Charlotte admitted. "Everyone seemed so miserable."

"You're my hero," I mumbled, arms over my face.

"Oh, you didn't need saving." Charlotte shrugged as I moved my arms to better see her. "You were just psyching yourself out in the beginning, but once you scored that goal – which was nice, by the way – you flew fine. Why do you think Bard isn't in here chewing us out?"

Hannah gave a wry smile. "Give him time."

She shrugged again. "I think we're shot of him for today. I think he thinks we've gone through enough…"

"You're telling me," Hannah said, gingerly rubbing her lump again. I winced. That looked painful.

"You know, I could probably pilfer some bruise-balm from the twins, if you like?"

"The twins? Who're the twins?" Hannah looked genuinely confused.

"The Weasley twins?" Sometimes I forget that not everyone knew them. "Of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

"Oh! That place! That shop's hilarious! You know them?"

"They're two of my best friends!"

"Ooh!" Hannah grinned. "Every try to get with that, then?"

"No, I-" but before I could say "I'm also best friends with their fiancées/girlfriends," Charlotte interrupted me.

"Of course not. Katie likes Oliver, don't you Katie?"

She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, not even looking up from cleaning of her boots.

"What?" Hannah looked as flabbergasted as I felt. "No, she doesn't…" she scrutinized my face. "Hang on. You do! YOU DO!" She grinned from ear to ear. "But that's brilliant!" she sat down suddenly, thinking more about it. "But that makes so much sense. Bloody marvelous. That's adorable."

Well, there was that cat well and truly out of the bag – out of the bag and into the neighbor's chickens, to mix overly extended metaphors. I glanced at Hannah, and bit my tongue. No point denying it now.

"Charlotte. How did you know?" Hannah punched the air, giggling triumphantly. Charlotte was the last person I'd expected to catch me. But maybe it's that seeker thing, flying high and observing everything else, catching the little movements and glimmers of things that are supposed to be hard to find.

"I've had experience with… hidden crushes. I know the symptoms. And I always thought Oliver had a thing for you, he talked about you so often, even when we were on the reserves together. So I sort of… observed closer than I would have." She flipped her boot over, beginning on the other crease. "I'm sorry about what Coach did, though. That was tactless."

"I… what? Oliver doesn't fancy me." I filed away Charlotte's 'secret crushes' into the "may be useful later" section of my brain.

Hannah and Charlotte shared a look. That's the Alicia/Angelina look! Hang on, this isn't fair-

"You're kidding, right?" Hannah had raised her eyebrows. "I mean, I thought about Oliver for a bit. You know, he's fun, he's cute. He'd have understood the Quidditch hours. He's actually kind of charming, when he's not, y'know, talking about Quidditch like a madman."

He's cutest then. But, okay…

"But then he started talking about you. And oh, my god, Katie. The way he talks about you. It's not that you hung the moon or he thinks you're that great-"

Ouch.

"But you always come up. I mean, it could be the least related subject ever and somehow, somewhere, 'Katie said' or 'Katie thinks' or 'One time, Katie…'" she grinned ruefully. "Seriously, the team knows way more about you than you think we do. It's like he can't help but mention you."

Okay, that's cuter.

"And I'm totally over him, by the way." Hannah added, grinning. I considered this. I can't lie, there'd been a flare of jealousy when she mentioned chasing him. There had been so much time when I wasn't a part of Oliver's life. Three whole years of boy hormones.

"Mmm. It wouldn't matter anyways, not with Coach's ironclad rules. Besides," I seized on the point bitterly, just knowing that Charlotte and Hannah were – are – mistaken. "If he fancies me, what was that speech? The little sister speech? The never have, never will?"

I sniffled. Aw, shit.

"Oh, no Katie," Hannah pulled tissues out of her locker and walked over to me, sternly pressing them into my hands.

"I'm sorry," I said thickly, trying to choke back the tears. "It's just today was supposed to go so well and it's been awful and Coach hates me and, I mean, I always knew Oliver felt that way but he never said it before and in front of everyone…" Hannah wrapped an arm around my shoulders comfortingly.

"Oh, Katie, I know…"

Charlotte flicked her wand and locked the door, before settling down in front of me, holding a tissue up to my face. "Blow," she said firmly, far more motherly than I ever could have imagined her. I complied. "Good. Now, Katie-" she glanced at Hannah for help.

"First off, today wasn't that bad, Katie," Hannah began. I giggled wetly.

"That's a joke, Hannah."

"Okay, so it was pretty bad – sure – but that wasn't you. And Coachie knows that. You flew really well! And we've seen you play and fly before. And you scored! The team sucked, that's not your fault. And Coach can be an idiot about…" she shook her head, "a lot of things. But he's good about where to put blame, and he doesn't mind singling people out. You didn't rip apart the team, today. That was all Oliver. And he knows that. He won't blame you just because you're new."

"And on that note, Katie," Charlotte jumped in. "Coach doesn't hate you. Coach doesn't hate anyone, and I think he likes you. And Oliver doesn't hate you. He probably said what he said because Coach put him on the spot."

"Something was weird with Oliver today, Katie. I've never seen him play like that. Don't worry about it. It's so not worth crying about."

"He was a little weird last night, too. I don't know, normally I can always get him out of his funks. I mean," I giggled again. "He tried to drown himself in a shower when we lost to Hufflepuff in my fourth year. And so I had to go down in the rain and find him and yell until he got out of the locker room. But we survived that, and we won the cup."

Hannah shook her head wonderingly.

"He's mad, isn't he?"

"A bit," I smiled weakly.

"But he's not worth crying over," she added firmly. "Right, Charlotte? No boy is."

Charlotte nodded. "She's right."

"So you know what we're going to do?" I eyed Hannah warily.

"What?"

"We're gonna put that new Quidditch body of your's – because I know reserves workouts and as much as they suck, you'll have killer abs – and we're going to go find boys that don't make anybody cry."

Charlotte shrank back. "Hannah-"

"No but's, Charlotte! We are going out clubbing and it is not negotiable!"

"How long have you been trying to get her out?" I grinned up at Hannah.

"Dear god, you have no idea."

"C'mon Charlotte. For me?" I made puppy-dog eyes at her. "It'll be – actually, hang on, I've never been clubbing before. Will it be fun?" I turned to Hannah, who looked utterly miffed.

"Of course it's fun! It's brilliant! And we have two clubbing virgins here?"

Both Charlotte and I blushed.

"Oh, hang on." Hannah stared at both of us. "Two actual virgins here?"

Neither Charlotte nor I answered, firmly not looking at Hannah.

"Oh my GOD, girls! You both need to live a little! Right – you know what. Friday night, no – crap, we have early practice Saturday, don't we? Okay the weekend – no, that's a game. Ughhh. Okay. Three weeks from Friday – you're both getting all glammed up – and I mean heels, Charlotte, heels -"

"Hannah, I can't walk in heels."

"Katie! What? No!"

"What?" I looked back and forth. "It's true! I'm a klutz."

"I just don't really like them." Charlotte shrugged.

"Dammit, guys. You're making this really hard. Fine. You've got three weeks – Katie – you learn to walk in heels. Charlotte, you learn to love them. And then you're coming over my house and then we're going to throw down. The boys, the dancing, the boozing – it's going to be an end-of-season, end-of-drama, bugger-all-this blowout."

She said all this very impressively. Charlotte and I exchanged glances.

"We don't really have a choice, do we?"

"None at all."

"I'm in if you are, Charlotte." Charlotte bit her lip. Hannah looked at me imploringly.

"I'll even stop calling you Charlie." Charlotte stared at me, blatant hope in her eyes.

"I'm in."

xoxox

"Boys, you are JEALOUS of our plans." Hannah sang as she bounced into the locker room. She's genuinely the bounciest person I know, a big ball of cutesy, flirty energy. She's one of those girls that you're simultaneously jealous of and want to be friends with. Charlotte and I trailed awkwardly in after her, feeling self-consciously not bubbly or bouncy or flirty.

"Are we?" Jordan's head snapped up.

"Oh, yes, yes you are."

"If it doesn't involve changing diapers, then yes, yes I am jealous."

"Okay, Tom, slight downer. Any other guesses?" Hannah giggled.

"I'm sure your children are lovely, Tom." I ducked around Hannah, nodding at him. He smiled wanly at me.

"You're coming to hang by my house." Kieran waggled his eyebrows at us, flexing ostentatiously. Charlotte blushed.

"In your dreams, Dawson."

I could feel Oliver's eyes on me. I risked a quick smile at him, which he returned in full.

"Are you dragging Katie and Charlotte out on one of your mad schemes, Hannah?" his accent seemed thicker than normal – maybe all that time listening to Bard's heavy brogue brought it out.

"Perhaps," Hannah smiled devilishly.

"Oh, just tell them, Hannah," Charlotte sighed, sitting down next to Keiran to finish her packing her bag.

"You're such a spoilsport, Greene." Hannah rolled her eyes and turned back to her audience, every inch a diva. "You all want to know?"

"Yes, my darling Ms. Hendricks," Jordan drawled, batting his eyelashes dramatically at her. I giggled. "Please, do deign to tell us."

"Well, in three weeks – May… 25th – us girls are going out to my favourite new club-"

"You've got a new favourite each week-"

"Shove it, Jordan – my favourite new club, Niche. And we're going to have a blast. And any fun, single – sorry Tom - people who want to come are more than welcome." She glanced around the room. "Anyone? Seriously?" She turned to me. "I am not making this sound exciting enough?"

"No, no, you're doing great." I gestured at her. "Please, continue."

"You all suck. I expect a crowd – and I mean a crowd at my house. I'm writing it on the calendar." She shoved a pamphlet out of the way wrote "HANNAH'S THROWDOWN" is large curly letters. She turned back for one, last, parting shot. "Girls, remember – cute dresses and heels." And on that embarrassing note, she flounced out.

"And the queen has left the building. Gentlemen – ladies – I bid you adieu." Jordan swept out.

"Oi, Meyers – don't you dare! You owe me 20 quid and your promised me a drink tonight!" Keiran jumped up, knocking Charlotte's purse to the floor. "Oh, sorry sweetheart-" and he ran after Jordan.

"Oh, Charlotte-" I knelt to help her pick up her belongings, which were rolling under benches and feet.

"It doesn't rain, it pours here." Tom shook his head. "Well, the twins first word might be momma if I'm not home. G'night, you lot." He grinned the proper smile of the night and walked to the door, a little spring in his step. I can't wait to meet Tom's girls. Everyone says they're absolutely adorable. No wonder he's always talking about them.

"Well, then. Katie, should we head out?" I looked up at Oliver, who gave me a half-smile. I debated for a moment.

"You know what, you go ahead, Oliver. I'll just… catch you back home, okay? I have an errand to run with Charlotte anyways."

"Oh." He nodded, then turned to pick up his bags, a little slump in his shoulders. "Oh, and Oliver?" I called after him, not knowing what quite made me do it.

"Yeah?"

"Movie night tonight? In celebration of my first official day?"

His smile was radiant. Right. I'd have done anything for that smile.

"I'll have the popcorn waiting."

xoxox

"Hey, Charlotte. Here's your wallet." I held it out to her, watching her face. "Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah. Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

I sat back on my heels, picking up her sweater and refolding it.

"It's Kieran, isn't it? Your 'secret crush.'"

She looked up at me, not surprised, but just a quiet sadness around her eyes.

"Is it that obvious?"

"No. No, it's not. I just… I know. You gravitate towards him."

"He likes Hannah."

"You think?"

"Yeah."

"She doesn't like him."

"No. But she could have him if she wanted."

"Yeah, she probably could."

Charlotte laughed a little, a sad, soft, little laugh.

"Well, that's comforting. Thanks, Katie."

"I'm sorry – here, no – Charlotte. Look at me." I waited for her upturned face, feeling like after everything today, I was for the first time really, truly talking to Charlotte. "Look at us. We're sitting here getting all misty-eyed about the boys that don't love us. You're beautiful and sweet and funny, Charlotte. And I'm…" I gestured wildly "I'm mildly awesome. We're gonna be okay. Alright? This is going to our project – not Hannah's, not the team's, not Oliver's or Kieran's or anyone else's. We're going to get those boys – and if we don't, we're going to be happy. Because boys aren't… everything. Okay?"

She smiled weakly at me.

"I like you more when you don't call me Charlie."

"That's the ticket."

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing - Jack Johnson

*I totally drew on the end of Harry's first quidditch game for that line. But once it was in my head, I couldn't write anything else.