-SPOILER ALERT!- I'm assuming most people have finished the seventh book by now...(?) Was anyone else extremely distressed over the death of a certain Weasley? I think I was more upset about his death than that of all the other characters combined. He was my absolute favorite character, but he just had to be killed off. Gee, thanks, JKR.

Sorry for my bitterness. But what puts me in a much better mood is that...

I LOVE YOU ALL!! You got me over a thousand reviews! -blows kisses and hugs and flowers and miniature Oliver Woods- Not to mention I've gotten some of the nicest reviews possible for the previous chapter. Thank you all SO much. Really. And for staying by me for this long, you deserve to know that -- believe it or not -- this story is coming to a close. I believe I'm ending at 32 chapters (I'm deciding on whether or not to do an epilogue), meaning I have three chapters left. I promise it'll be worthwhile, so please stick around for the rest!


Chapter 29

"There. That was some pretty complicated spellwork, I must say." Flitwick shot us a puzzled glance.

It was the next morning. We'd been woken by Professor Flitwick, who'd been told about our... predicament... and who'd hurried down to help us as soon as he heard. After many "hmms" and "hahs" and stroking of the chin, he had done some fancy Charms work to untangle the thread around Roger, Katie, and me, much to our relief.

"I don't think you want to know how it happened," Katie blurted hastily. "It was all a misunderstanding."

"There's still some kind of peculiar connection between you and Wood here, though, Miss Bell," Flitwick said, poking at the space between Katie and me with his wand. "I'm assuming this is the result of a spell."

"Yes, unfortunately," Katie said with a sigh.

"And I made the mistake of getting tangled up in this ridiculous affair," Roger rumbled.

"Literally. Haha, get it?" I chortled. But I shut up after seeing the looks of incredulous disbelief on the others' faces.

"I don't suppose you'd want me to remove it?"

Katie and I stared at each other, stupefied. All this time, we thought we'd have to stay attached until those idiot Tweedledum and Tweedledumber figured out a way to end the spell. And now, we were being offered a solution that was so easy it was almost pathetic?

How pathetic.

Taking our dumbfounded looks as a yes, Professor Flitwick flicked his wand in our direction. Immediately, the bind around our waists loosened, and then vanished altogether.

"Well, if you don't mind, I have classes to prepare for so I'll be off," said Flitwick. "Good day."

As the door shut behind him, Katie and I stared at each other again. After all the drama, all the chaos, the end was almost...

"Anticlimactic, isn't it?" Katie remarked with wry smile.

"Rather," I agreed.

"And to think that we didn't even have to spend the night here!" grumbled Roger as he glared hatefully at the hospital beds we'd slept on. "This whole time, all we had to do was trek up to Flitwick's room and ask him to fix this bloody mess."

"But it let us have a wonderful sleepover together!" I said in a cheerful falsetto. "Didn't we have a splendid time?"

"Yeah, my balls are still numb from having you two crush them from either side," Roger snapped.

"It's always about the balls..." Katie rolled her eyes.

"They're the family jewels, Katherine!" Roger answered hotly. "I'm the future of our family, you know!"

"If you are the future, I feel bad for the next generation," Katie replied. I let out a bark of laughter and Roger shot me a fierce glare.

"Shut up, Wood. And I better not find you making moves on Luna... or else." Then he stormed out the doors.

"Touchy, isn't it? Never was a morning person." I moved to leave the hospital wing as well when Katie caught my arm.

"Hey. We never got to talk last night," she whispered.

"About what?" I whispered back, feeling like we were part of some cool secret agent conspiracy...thing. "Don't tell me. Roger's birthday's coming up, isn't it? You're having a surprise party! Can we attack him in the shower? When he's off his guard. It'd be bloody hilarious. I've always wanted to do that after that Muggle movie we saw by...what's his name? Albert Hit-your-cock. Funniest name I've ever heard."

"It's Alfred Hitchcock, first of all. And secondly..." Katie shook her head in confusion. "Oliver, we... we were going to talk about... us."

I blinked. "Us?"

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded, hurt. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"What? I'm absolutely serious -- I have no idea what you're talking about," I replied truthfully.

Katie opened her mouth as if to speak, and then closed it. "Never mind," she said dully. "I should've known it wouldn't work out. Again."

She left, leaving me to finger the locket I had around my neck. I didn't have the slightest idea where it had come from, but it comforted me all the same.


THE HOGWARTS HOWLER
"We tell nothing but the truth!"

Missed us? Here's yet another fabulous edition of your number one gossip tabloid, the Howler!

Your guide to communicating with the opposite sex
"Pick-up Lines 101," page 2

Our speculation: Eddie Carmichael is using Marietta Edgecombe to make his ex jealous
"Love...For the Wrong Reasons?," page 4

The headmaster's sweet tooth, evident through the choice of passwords to his office,
worry us that he is well onto the deathly path to diabetes.
"Passwords? ...or Pernicious Passions?," page 5

5 of Hogwarts' Best-looking Bachelors
"The Finest Five," page 6

HOT TOPIC!
Why we're convinced the Arithmancy substitute teacher is a vampire
with intentions to seduce our very own Professor Sinistra
"Love at First...Bite?" page 7

You know you love us!
-CC and AKA


Dear Diary,

It's been confirmed, even by the press. The thought that Oliver no longer fancied me was bad enough; the fact that the whole school is now acknowledging it is just...pathetic.

(A/N: The following scenes are still written in Katie's diary. Her point of view is very long in this chapter, and so to spare your poor eyes, I put it in normal font and not in italics. I'll mark clearly where Oliver's POV begins again. Sorry, but I think this is the best way.)

xxx

"Katie, I think you need to read this." Angelina pushed the latest copy of The Howler across the table to me. I groaned.

"You know how I refuse to read that trash, Angie-"

"I'll do it, then." She flipped open to a page and read aloud. "'Oliver Wood, in our opinion, is now the number one hottest bachelor around. The sexy Gryffindor Quidditch Captain's apparent obsession with teammate and fifth-year Katie Bell seems to be a thing of the past. Now back on the market, he's hotter than ever. With Saint Valentine's Day just around the corner, Wood is certainly a prime target to keep your eyes on.'"

Awkward silence.

"Are they serious? Are they MAD?" I shrieked.

"Not to mention they think Dumbledore's a diabetic on his deathbed and that Professor Sinistra is being seduced by the Arithmancy substitute, who's apparently a vampire."

"It's madness," Alicia agreed with a nod. "I can't believe people are getting away with publishing such bollocks."

"Actually, I heard McGonagall's doing a full-scale investigation into this," Angelina said. "She wants this thing stopped -- now. And she's not the only one."

Alicia took the paper from Angelina and scanned the headlines. She let out a low whistle. "Oh, I bet Eddie's getting an earful from Marietta right now...poor bloke. Bet the rumor isn't even true."

"It's hurtful, these rumors," Angelina said angrily. "They didn't have to mention Katie like that."

"Plus, I honestly can't believe Oliver would just... suddenly stop liking you," Alicia said to me. "That's so unlike him. He's usually so predictable. Almost boring, actually, quite unlike my Georgie-poo..."

Georgie-poo. That makes me want to vomit. Projectile vomit. All over Oliver sodding Wood.

"So what are you going to do?" Angelina asked, looking in my direction anxiously.

"I don't know. Kill myself?"

"KATIE!"

"Just kidding."


Oliver's POV

St. Valentine's Day. Normally, I can't stand February 14th, but this year was different. I stood before my mirror, gazing with approval at my clean-shaven, heart-stoppingly good-looking face. I left my hair a bit messy and my tie a bit unloosened on purpose.

Wow. If I was a girl, I'd do me.

I headed for the main entrance, where everyone was gathered to head to Hogsmeade. I stepped out of the doors and stepped into a throng of girls who were waiting for me.

Life is sweet.


Dear Diary,

Today was Valentine's Day, and it went something like this...

xxx

(still Katie's POV)

"This is rather...depressing." I glared hatefully at the pink and red decorations covering the entire town.

"I thought you loved pink," Fred commented, gazing into store windows here and there.

"Har har. You know I hate it."

"Damn. Why does Angelina have to be sick today of all days?" he said suddenly, looking disappointed. "I'd made plans and everything."

"And why must Alicia and I be fighting today of all days?" George groaned.

"Oh, well I'm so sorry you have to be stuck with just little ol' Katie," I grumbled.

"Nah, you know we love you," Fred said fondly, slinging an arm around my shoulder.

"Hey look! Madam Puddifoot's!" George pointed.

"Let's make faces at those losers through the window!" Fred suggested excitedly, pulling me along as he and his brother eagerly raced to the store. We peered into the window, our noses and hands pressed against the glass. What I saw inside sickened me, and I'm not talking about just the frilly tablecloths or the cherubs tossing confetti.

Seated at a round table in the center of the room, with about a dozen girls gazing adoringly at him around the table, was Oliver Wood.

"Blimey! What does that tosser think he's doing?" George exclaimed, shaking his head in disgust.

"Well, I'm off, boys," I said, trying to sound casual when actually I felt nauseous. "Catch you later?"

"Yeah..." they muttered vaguely, still peering into the window.

I hurried away before they could follow; I knew they would keep asking, "Are you okay?" and "Don't tell me you're still into him!" until I assured them that no, I didn't like that wanker anymore, but they still wouldn't believe me. I just wanted to get away as far as possible from all other signs of human life, and so I made a beeline for the grassy slope beyond the borders of the Shrieking Shack. I slumped onto the grass, digging my teeth savagely into the chunk of Honeydukes' chocolate I'd bought earlier. I couldn't get over the thought of Oliver basking in the attention of all those girls. He never used to be like that before...right?

"Is this seat taken?" I turned and saw Luna, who pointed to the patch of grass beside me.

"Not really a seat, is it?" I said through a mouthful of chocolate as she sat beside me.

"Your mind isn't on heart-shaped lollies and pink ponies," Luna stated calmly, shaking her head slightly when I wordlessly offered her a piece of chocolate.

"No, not exactly."

Luna twirled a blade of grass between her fingers. "My mum died when I was young," she began suddenly. "One of her spells backfired."

"I'm sorry," I said, meaning it, though I was confused because how exactly did that pertain to me?

"After she was buried, my dad said, 'I didn't realized how much she meant to me until now.' But by then, it was too late." She turned to me and smiled. "Sometimes, it is too late. But it doesn't have to be."

I stared at her. "You're talking about Oliver," I said, not knowing exactly how I knew that, but at the same time, wondering if it really mattered.

Then, randomly, she said, "I've been talking to your stepbrother, Davy Rogers." That sent me into a fit of giggles.

"You mean Roger. Roger Davies." I corrected, laughing, until I suddenly realized what exactly she had said. "Wait, you've been talking to Roger?"

"Yes," she replied calmly.

"About what?" I was dying of curiosity.

"Some people fit well together. Others don't," Luna said vaguely, staring at the sky. She pointed, suddenly, at the clouds. "I thought I just saw a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Did you?" But I couldn't even laugh at her, as most other people normally would have. Instead, I was staring at her, speechless.

People are always talking about how barmy Luna is, how it's like she in another world. But then she knew that I'd lost Oliver, that I'd taken him for granted. I thought back to how I'd gotten angry at him for no reason at all, how I'd mistreated him. She knew that Roger had been crazy over her, and that while she and my stepbrother would never be together, Oliver and I could.

"You're telling me I should get him back?" I asked slowly.

Luna smiled.


Oliver's POV

This...was bliss.

I folded my hands behind my head and leaned back in my chair with content, looking around the table at the hot girls who surrounded me. Funny, I'd always thought I was a one-girl kind of guy, and I'd criticized Roger for being a manwhore. Now the tables were turned. Except I'd prefer not to think of myself as a manwhore. The word connotes dirtiness and a strong chance of having an STD, neither of which characterizes me.

But I digress.

"So I did havea fan club after all," I commented. "And I'd thought it was just rumors."

"Oh my Gawd, we were starting to lose hope about you and that other girl," one of them whined. Then, perking up, she smiled and said, "But that's over now."

I frowned. "What 'other' girl?"

"Tsk tsk, Wood. You disappoint us." I swiveled around in my chair to face Fred and George.

"What the hell do you want?" I was peeved by the interruption.

"Can't you see we're a bit busy here?" Taylor Somers snapped, popping her gum in annoyance. "There are too many people at this table already, so you can just leave now."

"But the more the merrier!" George exclaimed happily, roughly shoving two girls aside and pulling up a chair between them. Fred did the same at the other side of the table, saying, "Oops, pardon me! Sorry 'bout that!" but the grins on their faces clearly showed how not sorry they were.

Fred grabbing the teapot from the center of the table. He helped himself to the hot tea, then practically threw the pot over to George, who was throwing an arm to his right trying to reach the sugar. His hand knocked into a girl's face.

"Ow!" she wailed, slapping his hand aside.

Even as I glared fiercely at them, the the twins finished stirring their tea to their satisfaction, and at last sat beaming at the rest of us around the table. For once they didn't speak a word, and this ended up being even worse because the rest of us were left to stare at them in awkward silence. They merely smiled in a placid way, slurping their tea contentedly.

"Well! Isn't this cozy!" Fred chirped at last, breaking the silence. "Anyone want to share any juicy gossip?" Thirteen pairs of eyes (including mine) glared at him.

"I feel awed in the presence of all this girl power," George breathed with an exaggerated, rapturous joy. "It feels almost...holy." He folded his hands as if he were at church. Fred, catching on quickly, clasped his hands together as well and they both raised their worshipful gazes to the ceiling. In a soft, high undertone, Fred sang, "Ahhhh..." mimicking the the voices of a choir.

"Cut it out," I hissed, knowing that the intent of their antics was to mock me.

"You know how to celebrate such inspiring girl power?" Fred asked George across the table.

"You know I do, girlfriend!" George gushed in an exaggerated falsetto.

Before the rest of us could figure out what they were doing, the twins' hands met across the table and started clapping back and forth rapidly.

"Miss Mary Mack, Mack Mack-"

"All dressed in black, black black-"

"With silver buttons, buttons, buttons-"

"All down her back, back, back-"

As they continued their ridiculous hand game, I noticed more than one of the girls squirming uncomfortably, as if they were starting to think about leaving. Not wanting that to happen, I seized the twin's hands and forced them to stop.

"Fun and games are over!" I ordered, narrowing my eyes at them threateningly.

"Fine..." George said with a sigh, pushing his chair back to stand up. "We'll leave." The twins trudged slowly away from the table, and with each step they took away from us, the more relief the rest of us felt. They were almost at the door when Fred suddenly turned and said, "WAIT! I FORGOT SOMETHING!"

Those of us at the table groaned as Fred scurried back to us. He began scanning the floor, as if looking for something. He dove under the table, banging into all our legs as he did so. "Blimey, where IS it?" he muttered. He finally emerged from under the table, looking forlorn. "I couldn't find it."

"Find what?" I asked in exasperation.

"MY SANITY!" Fred crowed, spastically jumping into the air. He shut his eyes closed and held his arms out like a zombie. "MARCO!"

"POLO!" Our heads turned to see that, while Fred had distracted us, George had come back to the table and was now dashing madly around it to avoid being caught by his brother in their new mad game.

"MARCO!" Fred crashed into Padma, almost knocking her and her chair over. She shrieked and pushed him away, but Fred reached out and grabbed her. "Got you!"

"Get off me, you git!" she screamed.

"Ho, ho! That doesn't sound like George... MARCO!"

"POLO!"

"ENOUGH!" I bellowed furiously, causing the twins to come skidding to a halt.

"Our captain's got the roar of a lion," George boasted, beaming with pride. "A true Gryffindor."

"Hear, hear!" Fred, whose eyes were open once again, banged a teacup on the table. Its hot contents splattered all over Taylor, who screamed wildly and jumped to her feet in shock.

"You psychos are ruining our date!" she shrieked shrilly.

"Hmm...what's the definition of a date, George?" Fred pondered aloud. "Last time I checked, it involved a couple, meaning two people."

"I see thirteen people here, Fred," George replied, counting heads. "So nope, it's not a date."

Shaking with silent rage, Taylor sank back into her seat when all of a sudden, there was this FBBBPPPT noise. She turned crimson with embarrassment, turned to me, and beseechingly said, "It wasn't me, Oliver, I swear! Please don't think I'm that disgusting!"

Fred and George pranced around the table singing, "Taylor's a fartface, Taylor's a fartface!"

Taylor stood and pulled something out from beneath her, revealing one of the Weasleys' famous whoopie cushions. "You... you beastly things, you!" she cried, looking almost terrible in her fury. I smacked my forehead with the palm of my hand. Could things get any worse?

Apparently, they could.

"'You beastly things, you.' I like the sound of that," Fred said, cocking his head to the side. "What do you say to a jig and a jingle, Forge?"

"Right behind you, Gred!" They clambered onto the table, put one arm each around the other, and began kicking their legs up rapidly in some kind of mad jig. They sang at the top of their lungs, improvising as they went along.

They said...

'You beastly things, you!
We'll throw you in a zoo!
We'll lock the bars
And slam the door
And never let you through!'

Well, we won't give in so easy
We're not exactly measley
We'll sock your face
Up into space
'Cause we're the sodding WEASLEYS!

The twins flicked their wands toward the tabletop. All at once, what was once the teapot was dashing across the table in the form of a huge, grotesque rat; the little teacups became tiny white mice that scurried into our laps. Terrified shrieks filled the air as girls clawed and clambered over each other to reach the door. Madam Puddifoot herself appeared from the back room and screamed herself silly.

"Out, out!" she howled, clobbering Fred, George, and me over the head with a broomstick. I threw several Galleons on the table to cover the damage, and, cowering before her frenzied rage, the three of us ran out of there as if wild banshees on our tail.

Once we were outside, however...

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU TOSSERS THINK YOU WERE DOING?" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Did you think that was funny? Did you get a kick out of your pranks? Well I hope you did, because I'll work you two so hard on the Quidditch field, you'll wish you were dead-"

"Okay, we won't lie. We did get a kick out of that..." George began.

"But we didn't do it just for fun," Fred finished, his tone surprisingly serious. "We owed it to a friend."

"You owed it to a friend?" I repeated furiously.

"We don't know what tricks you're playing, Wood, but we don't find them amusing," George declared solemnly.

"What tricks?" I demanded.

"C'mon, George, let's go. This wanker makes me sick."

I stared as they walked away, feeling utterly confused and mistreated. My hand went automatically to my neck, and the strange locket that hung from it rested cool and comforting in my palm.


A/N: Okay, sorry about the format change, but I think I have to do it. The tables have been turned; whereas throughout the story Oliver was trying to win Katie, now she has to win him back. Meaning, the POV will be very Katie, Katie, Katie for the next couple chapters. I tried to make it as clear as possible, so I hope you don't mind the change too much. I'm just worried for your poor eyes' sakes!