Kissing.

In empty classrooms, dark corners, hallway closets, the changing room after practice...

Once, he even dared to try again in the library. It was a credit to his reflexes that he dodged the pencil Madame Pince threw at him with frightening accuracy.

A warm glow blossomed in my chest and I bounced when I walked. My quidditch improved as I allowed myself to trust my instincts on the pitch instead of planning my moves like chess.

Outside of practice I had a one-track mind. I stayed up late in the common room with my books open, waiting for the moment Oliver entered. Sometimes he wandered in close to curfew, tracking mud, broom in hand. Other times he had smeared ink on the right side of his face coming from a session of plotting new plays in the library. His hair was always sticking up in the front where he continued to run his hand through it, lost in thought.

As tired as I was studying for my own exams, I lived for that wan smile he always gave me when we locked eyes and the way he slumped next to me on the couch, legs splayed, head resting on my shoulder.

We ended our days with long kisses good night where I would inhale the scent of fresh-cut grass that clung to him like perfume.

It began to feel like our relationship had always been this way. And this was everything I had dreamed of.

…right?

"There you are!" Angelina grabbed my left arm while Alicia popped out from behind a statue on the right.

Ambush!

From both sides they steered me with them toward the Great Hall for dinner.

"What's the big idea? " I said, shrugging my arms out of their grasp. Alicia and Angelina exchanged glances over my head.

"Have you forgotten that people who aren't Oliver exist? You haven't filled us in on anything and we only ever see you at practice." Angelina said. "We demand details!"

I pursed my lips.

They plunked me in between them at the table. A shiver of unease that I had never had around my best friends ran through me.

I knew I could trust them, but why were my palms so sweaty?

They both fixed their eyes on me, which was more unnerving than the barrage of questions I was expecting.

Angelina raised her eyebrows as if to say, "Well?"

"I suppose I may have a secret or two…" I said, watching their reactions closely.

Alicia spoke up. "We have had to sit around and listen to all of your obsessing and give you advice and encouragement. It's not fair to hold out on the details."

"Have you been dating since the quidditch match?" Angelina was bouncing up and down on her seat.

I opened my mouth to tell them about the kiss outside of the common room when I froze, my mind zooming in on that one word "DATING."

It occurred to me that I had never heard Oliver call me his "girlfriend," and, as far as I knew, he had not told anyone about us at all.

I had never met his friends, and my one meeting with his family had been… educational.

I felt a stab of annoyance at this intrusion into our relationship from the outside world. I never realized how letting other people into our relationship might complicate it. In the work of a moment I had people to report to, and knew that he would have the same when the time came.

I was split: Half exploding with details and barely-contained girlish excitement, half shying away and denying everything to keep it all between the two of us as long as possible.

I compromised.

"Okay, but this stays between us. On pain of the excommunication of my friendship."

Angelina and Alicia both made a criss-cross through the air over their hearts, sat up and scooted toward me in full expectation of getting the whole scoop and nothing but the scoop.

I told them about how I had made the first move, and how he had responded outside the common room. They squealed with delight at all the right moments, and I could feel my cheeks grow hot. I decided to withhold what we whispered to each other and what we did behind closed doors.

I described what we talked about when we could see each other, but I did not mention the satisfaction I got from every smile, and the way my throat caught when he pronounced my first name with that gentle lilt.

After my tale, Angelina pulled me into a hug told me how happy she was, but Alicia held back.

"There is more to this story, I know it. You're holding out on us," she said.

I tried to arrange my face into a blank expression and I said, "If that's what you think."

Alicia was staring at me through the slits of her narrowed eyes. She wavered before she smiled and said, "I'm happy for you, too." She swooped in for her own hug, but took the opportunity to whisper in my ear, "I will wait for your full details now, but I might not be so patient later." She winked as she pulled away.

We all turned toward the table and piled food onto our plates. Angelina looked around.

"Where is Oliver, anyway?"

"He is probably is the library again. I don't know how much he is actually eating these days." I said before taking a generous bite of a dinner roll.

They nodded. With the final approaching, this did not surprise either of them.

Angelina cocked her head. "That doesn't bother you?"

I chewed my roll thoughtfully. Does it? I tried to feel angry or incensed that he wasn't here beside me trying to spoon feed me cauldron cakes, but I just couldn't. I knew that we would still have an empty classroom to ourselves later.

And besides, if he were there feeding me cauldron cakes and insisting on showing the world that he like me, he wouldn't be the bull-headed clueless person I fell for.

… right?

The seed of doubt planted that day by my two friends germinated over the course of the next few weeks.

My mind cycled through the same questions. What did he see me as? Did he think of me as his girlfriend? Would he introduce me that way the next time I came across his family? Had he written to Quincy and Sean about me?

Despite my inner turmoil, everything on the outside continued as it was. Study sessions, library visits, empty classrooms, warmth, and a lingering hunger for more. He had started trading his comfortable sweaters for shorter sleeves and breathable cotton, but that was the only thing that had changed since day one.

Was I just an end-of-school fling? Would he drop me as soon as he got his quidditch contract and became surrounded by screaming fans?

Only a few practices remained before the final, and even in our private meetings, Oliver was starting to interject more quidditch talk and less "how was your day?"

After a frustrating practice where we ran the same play over a dozen times, I lingered by the entrance to the changing rooms after feigning that I had lost my gloves. I told everyone to move along without me. Even though that drew a suggestive wiggle of the eyebrows from Fred and George, I made a show of checking for the gloves under benches and inside of lockers. In passing, Fred couldn't help but mumble, "I never thought a bright witch like you would forget how to use a summoning spell, Katie Smell." He touched a finger to his nose and winked on his way out.

Once I was sure that everyone else had gone, I found Oliver. He was sitting on a bench, fully clothed in his quidditch robes, his chin cradled in his palm.

He jumped when I laid a hand on his shoulder and sucked in a deep breath.

"Katie, have the others all already left? I just thought of one more thing I wanted to tell them." He rose to stand, but I placed my hand more firmly on his shoulder to prevent him.

Some members of the team had already complained about being accosted by him in the hallways so that he could give them more tips and pointers. Oliver would block the passage to explain the weaknesses of the opponent and give pop quizzes about certain plays and strategies with the fervor of a preacher.

Alicia, and Angelina had begged me to "use my charms" to get him to ease up on the team during the approach to the final match. After attempting to explain how it would be useless, Angelina clarified, "I meant hit him with an actual charm before practice. Get in close and then, WHAM- cheering charm."

I had not tried it yet.

"They're all gone, Oliver," I said in a low voice.

He made a grunting sound and sat back down, training his gaze somewhere off beyond the storage lockers.

He didn't seem to register the news that I had just imparted. I sat down next to him on the bench so that our thighs were touching, every cell of my being aware of the fact that we were alone here.

I grabbed his hand. Without looking at me, he squeezed it. We sat there in silence for a few moments before he turned his gaze toward me.

"So Hogsmeade tomorrow- you're coming. It's important."

He had never given me a command outside of quidditch practice, and I could see the pleading in his eyes. I hesitated and nodded.

There was something that he was not telling me. Before getting together it would have been difficult for me to imagine that someone who wears everything so out in the open as Oliver could hide anything, but here it was.

I swallowed hard and pecked him on the cheek trying to ignore a the uneasy feeling growing in my stomach.