The remainder of the Christmas was spent having snowball fights, flying around on brooms and eating the turkey, chicken, ham and mince pies that Mrs Weasley had made. On the morning of New Year Eve, I lay on Fred's bed with him, watching a particularly dirty miniature Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. A red and gold beater swung its bat with such force that the bludger flew out of the mini stadium and hit Fred in the eye.
"Son of a –" Fred started.
"I'm guessing that was the George beater?" came a particular Scottish voice from the door.
"Oliver!" I said happily, rolling over Fred and running over to the door, "Merry Christmas."
Oliver kissed me quickly, "Merry belated Christmas to you too. I see you're enjoying your presents." He nodded over to where Fred was cursing at the tiny beater in scarlet.
"It's wonderful," I smiled, pulling the necklace I had received from him from under my new sweater, "and so is this."
Oliver smiled, "I'm glad you like it." He walked over and sat on George's bed with him, "Alright boys?"
The both nodded, too engrossed in the mini game that was unfolding to respond much, "Oliver." George nodded.
"So," Oliver said, looking back at me with a sly smile, "I got over here on my new Firebolt. It's possibly the smoothest fly I've ever experienced and I've been flying since I was four."
I blushed, "I'm glad you like it. Did Fred and George show you what they got?" Seeing Oliver shake his head, I excused the two of us from the twins' room and showed Oliver down to the lounge room where the unwrapped presents were still sitting.
I showed Oliver the beater's bats and the rest of my presents; making sure to take a few photos of Oliver and myself and we collapsed on the couch after he had chased me around with George's bat. I was in fit of giggles when Oliver looked at me.
"You're adorable, you know that, right?" Oliver said between laughing at me and tickling my feet. I couldn't answer, I was too busy laughing, "I love you." He added with a laugh.
The both of us stopped. Oliver was avoiding my gaze and I was staring at him in shock. Neither of us said anything and I watched Oliver stand up and leave the lounge room. He walked up the stairs to the twins' room and came back with his Firebolt. After muttering a quick 'I gotta go', he walked out of the lounge room and was gone in a matter of seconds.
I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face. Oliver and I had been dating [If you could call it that] for just over a week. I'm sure the 'I love you' was a slip of the tongue; there was no need for him to leave. We could have talked about it, figured out what we wanted to do from here, but no, he had left. With barely even a good bye.
Fred and George came walking into the lounge room looking just as confused as I was.
George was first to see my face, confusion and hurt, "What was all that about?" he asked as he and Fred sat on either side of me.
"Nothing," I said quickly lied, "Oliver wasn't feeling well so he went home to rest."
"Really?" George prodded, "He told us his mother wanted him home to—" he was cut off by Fred hitting him in the head as he pretended to stretch.
"He told me he loved me." I said softly. George began to choke on the fruit mince pie he had shovelled in his mouth a few seconds earlier, "Then he looked really scared and left."
Fred exhaled loudly, "Are you ok?"
"Yeah." I lied again, "Just confused, I guess."
Fred patted my shoulder, "It's ok. I'm sure he'll be over… whatever… by tonight's party."
I chuckled sadly, "We were supposed to be going together."
George smiled at me, "That's ok! You can be our date!" This made me laugh a little more, "We need a rose between these thorns." He gestured between Fred and himself.
Fred, George and I had showered and dressed by 6:30 that evening. Katie's party started at 8 and Mrs Weasley had offered our help to set up and prepare for the party guests at her house. George bounded down the stairs first; he was wearing a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and his red sweater his mum had knitted. His twin was next; wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and his blue 'mum' sweater. I had chosen my grey skinny jeans, a purple sequined singlet and my black trenchcoat – I was freezing. I was also wearing, of course, my beater ring and Keeper necklace and had my new camera slung around my neck too. We were ready to party.
Arriving via the Floo network at Katie's was incredible; her house was the exact opposite of the Weasley's. It was large and mansion-like. All white tiles and grey granite bench tops and white couches.
"Wow," I said, examining the décor, "I never realised how un-Weasley like Katie is."
Just as Fred and George snickered, there was a loud excited scream.
"Oh my god, Jem!" Katie shouted, running at me in front of the chimney as I took my coat off, "You look amazing! Thank you so much for coming!"
When the pink blur that was Katie has stopped hugging the three of us, I finally got a good look at her. She was wearing a pastel pink knee length dress with black stockings and a small black shoulder shrug.
"So do you Katie, you look so beautiful." I said, nudging Fred in the guts, "Doesn't she Fred?"
Fred was staring at Katie wistfully, his crush on Katie was adorable, "Yeah… beautiful."
Katie and I helped Mrs Bell with the decorations and the food while Fred and George were in charge of the fireworks to be set off at midnight. When I thought about it, who else would be assigned to do that? The boys were busying themselves in the backyard when the unmistakable sound of someone arriving in the chimney could be heard from the kitchen. Katie and I rushed out to see who it was. My stomach dropped and the butterflies started as I saw Oliver whipping the dirt off his face. He looked incredibly sexy. He was wearing a pair of worn and ripped black skinnies combined with a red t-shirt and a black leather jacket. If it was the 1950s, I would have swooned.
"Hey Katie," He said, after she had hugged him too, "Thanks for having me."
Katie looked between Oliver and I and sensed the awkwardness, "I'm going back to help mum…" she practically ran out of the room, leaving Oliver and I alone.
I was standing next to the white couch, watching Oliver as he dusted some more soot off his jacket. Suddenly, he had taken two long strides across the room and crashed his lips on to mine. Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me roughly. After a moment he moved back, looking me directly in the eyes.
"I'm sorry I left," he said softly.
"It's fine." I answered, smiling slightly.
"No it's not." He countered, "I shouldn't have just left like that and I'm sorry. We can talk about it if you like?" he offered, looking rather uncomfortable at the thought of talking about his feelings.
I smiled again, "It's fine Oliver, let's just have fun."
"Yeah," he agreed, "You have to leave 6 moths and we'll probably never see each other again so we should just be casual." My stomach dropped, I didn't want to think about leaving Hogwarts, Oliver or any of my new friends, Oliver's face dropped, "Shit LJ," he faulted, "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant like… we… I really like you… I really really like you… After June we'll probably write a few letters to each other and then one of us will move on and we'll never see or hear from each other again."
"You're probably right, let's just enjoy whatever time we have." I said and Oliver nodded, that wasn't the best option, but it was the only one that was going to work… for now.
One of the best parts of the Bell party was the punch. Naturally, ten minutes into the party, Fred and George had spiked the punch with Fire Whiskey. Katie's mum didn't mind us drinking, as long as we did it in the safety of her supervision. Fred, Katie, George, Alicia, Lee, Oliver and I had found ourselves a nice spot on Katie's lawn to seat ourselves as the clock was drawing closer to midnight.
"Shot time!" Fred had claimed, returning to our small circle with a bottle of raspberry vodka in hand.
Katie groaned, "I don't think I can do any more shots Freddie." She grimaced, "The punch is enough." Alicia nodded in agreement.
"I'm keen," George said, grabbing the shot glasses from Fred's other hand and offering them to us, "Anyone?"
I watched as Lee and Oliver took shot glasses and Fred began to messily pour the alcohol into glasses, "Hell," I said, "I'm game."
Once Fred had filled the glasses, the adults began to count down. Hurriedly, we took the glasses, clinked them together and drank. The raspberry liquid burned down my throat as I joined in the count down with everyone.
"9, 8, 7, 6, 5" we all shouted.
Oliver lent in to whisper the rest of the countdown in my ear, punctuating the numbers with a kiss trailing up my neck, "4, 3, 2, 1!" Everyone watched as the Weasley's fireworks went off. Multi-coloured butterflies, snakes and dragons flew across the sky but I missed all of that. Oliver's lips were back on mine and I could see my own fireworks. We stayed on the grass for what seemed like hours, kissing and whispering to each other; the rest of our friends had gone to wish their families a happy new year. By the time we had composed ourselves, Oliver's jacket was discarded somewhere around us and my hair was tangled.