Alicia listened to Oliver apologise for waiting until she owled to get in contact, thinking he might be Quidditch-mad, but Oliver Wood was a genuinely caring person. He had shown interest in her work and remembered that she liked her Butterbeer hot. He was being so nice; Alicia felt guiltier than ever. Oliver even took the blame for how things ended between them. Shame caused her to look away—only to find her gaze drawn to another brown-eyed man.
"George," she whispered, thinking, Shite! What am I going to do?
"What?" Oliver asked, leaning closer.
"George is here."
Oliver tensed. "Does he know?"
"No—and I want to keep it that way." Alicia rose to greet her fiancée. "Hullo!" she said brightly. "We were just talking about you—about the wedding." When she tried to peck his cheek, George turned his head, kissing her full on the lips. His mouth covered hers, turning a greeting into something more passionate. Alicia blushed, but she didn't pull away.
George kissed her until she swayed against him. "I dropped by the shop. Zoe told me you two were here," he said, drawing away. "Have you already ordered?"
Alicia tried to smile. It came out lopsided. "Ah—no."
"Ah—good." George seated her before saying to Oliver, "Hullo, Wood. Mind if I join you?"
Oliver stood, holding out his hand. "Of course not. We're all friends. I was just telling Alicia that I'll be sorry to miss the wedding."
After a brief handshake, George took a seat. "Most people would've owled." His direct gaze said, Why didn't you?
"It was no trouble," Oliver said. "Anyway, I figured Alicia could give me ideas on where to shop for a wedding gift."
"Is that what you've been doing?" George asked Alicia. "Giving him ideas?"
Oh, Merlin, she thought, not fooled by the light tone. He's suspicious! I don't want to make things worse! "I told Oliver he didn't have to buy us a present," she said. "We have everything we need for the flat, don't we?"
"More than enough." George smiled blandly at Oliver. "We could use baby gear, though."
The server chose that moment to make an appearance. Since bringing their drinks, the young witch had applied makeup and changed into a Puddlemere United t-shirt. The girl stretched out the bottom of her hem, asking Oliver, "Would you autograph my shirt? My little brother's your biggest fan."
He accepted a lime green quill. "Sure. What's his name?"
"L-O-R-I."
"Unusual name for a lad," George said. "Is he a Hufflepuff?"
The girl dissolved into giggles. "No. That's my name."
After the server walked off, George said, "I don't think her brother's going to get that t-shirt."
His dry tone made Alicia smile. "I think Lori's brother is Oliver's second biggest fan."
George relaxed into his chair. "You deal with that kind of thing often, Wood?"
"Not too often."
"All the time," Alicia said at the same moment. She wanted to bite her tongue.
George sat up straighter. "Which is it?"
"I guess I'm so used to being asked for autographs I don't pay attention to how often it happens," Oliver said.
George looked steadily at Alicia. "But you noticed."
She took a sip of foamy Butterbeer. "No one was asking for my autograph," she said. "I guess it made more of an impression on me."
George was starting to unnerve her with his assessing gaze. "I guess so," he murmured.
Oliver cleared his throat. "I—I wanted to say congratulations to you both. Not just on the wedding—but the baby. I'm happy for you."
Alicia smiled. "Thank you."
"Yes," George said. "Thank you." He scooted his chair closer to Alicia and reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "So, I hear your club's in talks for a new Seeker," he said to Oliver.
"Rumours sell papers." Oliver shook his head. "There's no truth in it."
George ran his thumb across Alicia's wrist. "That's what the Falcons said about Beckham. Now the poor sod's chasing Quaffles across the pond as a Sweetwater All-Star."
"His wife loves shopping," Alicia said. "I'm sure she's enjoying the boutiques."
"How do you know Beckham's wife?" George asked.
She answered as though he had asked out of idle curiosity. "We met at a party, but Tori's always in the papers. She makes both the Best and Worst Dressed lists every year."
"She's as famous as her husband," Oliver said bewilderedly, "and she doesn't even play Quidditch!"
George said, "You could be in Beckham's shoes one day, Wood. All you have to do is hook up with a Siren's Secret model."
"That won't happen." Oliver smiled a little. "I don't fancy the high-maintenance type."
Alicia's stomach twisted when George said, "Who do you fancy, Wood?" He snapped his fingers. "I bet I know."
Oliver's expression was wary. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Any girl who loves Quidditch." George's eyes slid to Alicia.
She pointed to where Lori weaved her way through the tables with their lunch order. "How about girls who serve you food, Oliver? You like to eat."
"This one even loves Quidditch—or at least Quidditch players," George said. "Maybe you should ask her out."
Oliver shook his head. "No use. Long distance relationships don't work."
"Are you speaking from personal experience?" George asked.
The jealous edge to the "friendly" questions frayed Alicia's nerves. He was playing cat and mouse with them. It was a small relief when George untwined their fingers to take a bottle of Butterbeer from the server. She missed the warmth of his skin but not the way he seemed to be constantly checking her pulse! It had to be pounding.
Oliver took an enormous bite of his roast beef sandwich. Stress had killed Alicia's appetite. Since she didn't want either man to ask if something was wrong with the quiche—or wrong with her—she forced herself to eat.
George didn't bring up Oliver's "personal experience" again. He ate his grilled chicken and asked about Puddlemere's latest match. While Oliver gave them a play-by-play, Alicia tried to read George's face. Did he think she'd been sneaking around behind his back? Would he ask if Oliver had been more than a friend?
Alicia had managed to eat half the quiche when she noticed a couple entering the pub. It was Vicky and Kenneth. Kenneth saw her and waved. Vicky stood gaping at them with her mouth hanging open.
It's not as bad as it looks! Alicia thought desperately. She waved to her friends while praying they'd go away.
Vicky snapped out of her trance and dragged Kenneth out the door.
"What was that about?" George asked. "She took one look at you and ran off." His eyes travelled from Alicia to Oliver. "Or rather the three of us."
Her stomach couldn't handle the tension anymore. She bolted for the loo, barely making it to a toilet. Her insides convulsed violently.
Alicia wasn't aware George had followed until she felt his hands in her hair, holding the strands away from her face. "Oh, gods," she moaned. "I thought I was over morning sickness."
"Let's rinse your mouth," George said. He gently helped Alicia to her feet. While she used water and spells to clean her mouth and face, he rubbed her back soothingly. "Feeling better?"
She nodded. Physically, yes. Her emotional health was a different story.
A harried-looking witch with three small children entered the loo. She didn't seem to notice the couple standing beside the washbasin. "Wash your hands after you use the toilet," she told the two older boys, before accompanying the little girl into a stall.
The younger boy tugged on his older brother's jumper. "You said when we's bigger Mummy won't make us use the ladies' toilet anymore!"
After a moment's consideration, the older brother said, "He's probably naughty so he has to stay where she can see him."
Two sets of blue eyes looked inquiringly at George.
He said, "Yes, I'm very naughty."
Alicia pulled him out of the loo before the children asked for details.
At the table, Oliver was chatting with their server. Flushed and starry eyed, the girl wrote what looked like her Floo direction on a serviette.
"What's this?" George asked, when the girl moved away to take another customer's order. "Changed your mind about long-distance romance?"
"It's only a date." Oliver's eyes were on Alicia. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. George took care of me," she said. "I should return to the shop."
"You should take the rest of the day off," George said firmly. "Come home and rest."
She fought the urge to giggle hysterically. I wouldn't get much rest lying in bed waiting for you to come up and have a "talk" about Oliver!
"If I feel bad I'll come home," she said. "I promise." Alicia smiled at Oliver. "Thank you for Flooing to London. Good luck with the season—with everything." Unable to hug her ex with her fiancé watching, she held out her hand.
Oliver took it between both of his. "Thanks. I wish you the best—always."
"Take care." She turned away before guilt and pregnancy hormones caused the tears clogging her throat to spill down her cheeks.
Once again, George followed. Neither spoke on the walk to The Light Fantastic. "I'll see you later," she said, when he stepped past her to open the door.
He kissed her cheek. "I'll close shop early."
A chill of apprehension shuddered down her spine. "I was thinking of making lasagne tonight," she said. "I'll put you to work on the salad."
"I'll look forward to it."
Alicia didn't think he meant chopping vegetables. She said goodbye and went inside—making a beeline for the office. "I need to talk to Vicky, Mum," she said. "Can you do without me for a little longer?"
Her mother's eyes asked a multitude of questions. "Zoe told me she sent George to the Leaky Cauldron."
"Mmhmm." Alicia wasn't going to talk about it. "I'll be back soon."
Anne sighed. "Take your time, dear."
Alicia slipped out the service entrance, taking the rear alleyway instead of the street to get to Flourish and Blott's. She found Vicky on the second floor, using her wand to dust books. Her friend gasped when she saw her. "Alicia! Oh my gods—are you okay?" She rushed over to hug her. "I almost fainted when I saw the three of you having lunch in the pub!"
"I wish you had." Alicia quickly told her what happened.
Vicky said, "He held your hair while you puked? That's almost romantic! Kenneth wouldn't follow me into the toilet to have it off, much less—" She stopped abruptly, lowering her voice to say, "Sorry. I do think it was sweet."
"So do I." She looked at her friend miserably. "What am I going to do? I can't tell him—"
"Why not?"
"I can't." Alicia's lips trembled. "It isn't fair to—"
"Don't hide behind Oliver when this is really about you." Vicky threw up her hands. "Fine. Be honest about your relationship but don't go into specifics." She shook her head. "I still don't understand why—"
Alicia said, "I don't understand why you think Kenneth wouldn't make love anywhere you wanted. Have you ever asked?"
The distraction worked like a charm. Vicky bit her lip. "D'you think I should?"
Vicky and Kenneth had the kind of relationship where they could tell each other anything. Alicia felt a pang of envy. "Yes. I do."
-
George found it hard to concentrate on work. He kept thinking about Alicia and Oliver Wood.
Doesn't do you any good to wonder if Wood's seen her naked. Wait until she gets home and ask her straight out.
Imagining his brother's advice didn't make George feel better. His fingers tightened around the quill in his hand. It was one thing to know Alicia had slept with someone before him. He hadn't been a virgin either and didn't care about the past—until Alicia's past took her to lunch in the present.
Ballsy of him, wasn't it?
"We're all friends here." George imitated Wood's Scottish accent. "I wish you the best—always."
Blokes who date a girl casually don't talk like that, do they? Now you're wondering how many times he's seen her naked, eh?
Worse than that, he was picturing it! George was a visual person. Fantasising about Alicia was an enjoyable pastime, but not when his brain supplied images of her with another man! He kept "seeing" them together: Oliver and Alicia kissing, Oliver standing behind Alicia, cupping her breasts.
George snapped the quill in half, splattering ink across the desk. He swore.
"Mister is needing assistance?" Caper Apparated from the doorway to his side in a twinkling. The ink vanished. "Is there anything else, Mister George?"
"I'll run the shop for the rest of the day," George said. "I need you to clean the flat and do some marketing—if you don't mind."
Caper's eyes shone. "I is happy to serve."
Hours later, George was setting out ingredients for the salad when Alicia stepped into the kitchen. "I think Caper went overboard at the market," he said. "There's three kinds of lettuce and at least a dozen different vegetables."
A smile replaced her slightly guarded expression. "Overboard in a good way." She gestured to the table set with china, candles, and a long stemmed orange rose in a crystal bud vase. "Like this."
He watched her bend to draw in the scent of the rose. "Do you like the colour? I didn't want to give you something ordinary."
"It's lovely, like a sunset."
"You're lovely," George said. "I should tell you that more."
"You're handsome," Alicia said. "I'd tell you that every day, except you might think I'm just after your body." She closed the space between them. "I want all of you…and only you."
George kissed her softly. "And I only want you."
As they made dinner together, he asked about Alicia's day. Once they sat down to eat, he talked about customers, about his father's bizarre love of Muggle-made food—anything except the topic that he most wanted to broach.
"Dinner's excellent," he said.
"Thank you. I worried you might not like spinach lasagne. Not everyone does."
"Does Oliver?"
"No, he—" Alicia stopped short.
"He's a meat and two veg man? Figures. He never did have much imagination—at least when it came to Quidditch. Always went by the playbook," he said. "How long did you two date?"
Alicia's eyes were huge and shadowed. "It's in the past. It doesn't matter."
"I suppose not, since you invited him to the wedding."
"That was your mother. I didn't want to announce that he was my ex-boyfriend—"
"Boyfriend." George tried to keep his tone level. "You mean lover?"
Alicia flinched. "I never intended for him to come to the wedding. I owled that same day—"
"If you owled, why did he come to London? It wasn't to buy us a present. He wanted to see you, didn't he?" George fought the urge to go downstairs and ask Caper to locate Oliver Wood. He'd like to see how the bastard played Keeper with broken fingers spelled not to heal.
"It isn't what you think—" Her eyes were swimming with tears.
George pushed away from the table. "I don't know what I think except...I need to go somewhere and do some thinking." He left the flat, taking the stairs two at a time. In the storeroom, he knocked on the door to Caper's cubby.
The house-elf materialised beside him. "Mister is needing me?"
"Alicia could use some help clearing the kitchen," he said gruffly. "And, uh, a pot of tea or something. I'm going out." He turned on his heel.
Outside, he stared up at the windows of the flat. Was Alicia crying?
You'd be upset if she wasn't.
George hunched his shoulders against the cold, wrapping his cloak tighter. He visualised his destination and Apparated.
At Shell Cottage, he pounded on the door.
Bill answered the door in a towelling robe. He smelled heavily of almond oil. George raised an eyebrow. Had Fleur and Alicia bought flagons at the same time? He wasn't going to ask. George said, "Am I interrupting?"
"Yes. Come in anyway."
A stream of French flowed down the stairway. Bill's reply was shorter, yet equally impassioned. "Did you promise it was her turn for a massage when you get rid of me?" George asked.
"What makes you say that?"
"Your feet." They glistened with oil. "I'm surprised you didn't break your neck walking downstairs."
"I bought a carpet runner."
"Smart man." George glanced toward the staircase, trying to think of the right way to phrase what he wanted to say. After a few seconds, he gave up. "Fleur had boyfriends before you, right?"
"She's part Veela."
George made a face. "Right. I forget sometimes."
"That's why you're her favourite brother-in-law."
"Really? That's nice—anyway," George said, returning to the question he needed to ask, "If one of Fleur's old boyfriends showed up, and you thought his intentions were more than friendly, what would you do?"
"It's happened." Bill shrugged. "Diagon Alley isn't that big. You run into people."
"What did you do?"
"At the time? Nothing. I was polite—but when we got home, I reminded Fleur of all the reasons she chose me."
"Like a list?" Handsome, successful, makes you laugh….
"Actions, not words." Bill smiled wolfishly. "Although the right words are important."
A Sonorous Charm carried Fleur's voice downstairs. "Shall I dress and put on ze kettle for tea?"
"I have to get back to Alicia. Thanks for the offer." George lowered his voice. "Thanks for the advice."
Bill put a hand on George's shoulder. "Anytime."
-
A/N: I'd apologise for writing a chapter that raises more questions than it answers, but readers know I'd only really be sorry if they didn't care about having those questions answered. :D The chapter title is a song by the Gin Blossoms that reminds me of George when he first got together with Alicia, and this line now, as well. 'Cause all I really want is to be with you, Feeling like I matter too... In the books, Oliver is only described as 'burly', so I based his appearance on the actor who plays him in the film, brown-eyed and fit, with broad shoulders. ;) As for Beckham—yes, it's a nod to David Beckham and his 'Posh' wife Victoria, who likes to shop.
Special Thanks to everyone who took time out of a Valentine weekend to R&R Gone Fishing. For those who haven't read it yet, I'd love your feedback on George and Blaise's fishing trip!
The readers I love for giving feedback on the last chapter are...40/16, adrienne06052, alix33, anon, Bandon Banshee, Bardlover, Blue Leah, btyrhrtout, Calenmarwen, Carnivalgirl, Cassandra's Cross, Cazx, chibi angelle, Creative Touch, DaphneD, Dark Rose of Heaven, Diana42, ElspethBates, Fibinaci, flutterby 162, Freja Lercke-Falkenborg, GraceRichie, Herb3, hermioneron, HPFanFictionFan, Hungarian Witch22, I'myoursweetestgoodbye, infinity, JasperisMYeverything, Kd2t2, lady clark of books, Lieu Of Flowers, lunaliving, mackgirl, Maelys, maraudernumba5, MBP, Meeh-san, MidnightBlack07, MollyCoddles, Moontime, Mrs. Hermione Jane Weasley, Obliviate36, PhoenixDreamer55, RahNee, siriuslycoco, Slipknot-3113, Snuffles7, Sophia Loren, Squealing Lit. Fan, sunny9847, Sunshine Spray, Tabbycat1220, tambrathegreat, The-Unknown-Halliwell, tiffyrose, Tina101, Twinsmom, and WeaslysForEvER.
