NOTES:
And we have the final game! But before that, the outcome of a bet…
DEDICATION:
To my Fidelius gang. :;muah!::
DISCLAIMER:
Warrington is Skyler's bitch for the purposes of this fic. He shall be returned to Thalia in hopefully mint condition. And Thalia, because she's ebil, shall then hold him for ransom and not return him to JKR. ::Bwahahahahaha::
*~*~*~*
The subsequent week of practices passed with much anxiety; Oliver and Cass did not speak to each other at all. Silently, the two worked with the rest of the team, perfecting their strategies in preparation for the final game against Spain.
Their mutual discomfort was palpable, and though this in itself wasn't quite unusual, the other players felt a vague sense that their tension had changed. No longer was Cass picking fights with Oliver, or vice versa. All the snarky exchanged had been replaced by a heavy, uneasy silence.
Besides the rather fed-up Carl Warrington and a somewhat discontented Skyler Zabini, no one seemed to know what precisely had happened between their Captain and the female Slytherin Chaser.
"I am going to lose that wager," Skyler addressed Carl two days before the game, "Those two, stubborn, dense idiots, are not going to shag."
"Oh, they are, I'm sure…" Warrington said firmly, "Just… a bit delayed, is all."
Skyler turned her head and looked at him, her body shifting slightly from her position in his lap. She had a dejected pout on her face, although her eyes were glinting with mischief, "How very sad… If I do lose the bet, I'm going to have to do whatever you wish… for a whole day. Very mortifying."
He grinned, "Scared, are you?"
"Not really," Skyler said promptly, "Just rather humiliated… sod Cass and Wood for being such pig-headed idiots…"
He laughed, and rolled his eyes slightly, "Oh, them… well, what can you say? They're rather in denial, uncertain of what to do, and have a bad tendency to try to postpone the inevitable."
"I suppose… silly people…"
"Very silly indeed," he agreed, as he planted a kiss at her temple. She leaned against him for a moment; then pulled away to look him in the eye, half-amused, half-serious.
"Well, what will you have me do? As it is less than 48 hours before the game, and those two are nowhere near shagging."
Warrington looked at her for a long moment, and then, to her surprise, he shrugged lightly and grinned at her. "Do what you will… I'm sure you can think of something."
"I'm surprised, really… you're not making me do anything too embarrassing."
"Ah well… I just feel astonishingly benevolent towards you for some reason or another… it's most interesting and vexing, really."
"Git."
"You better believe it," he smirked. She smirked back; then stood up from where she'd been sitting on his lap.
"Well… I'll pay you tomorrow, then."
* * *
The evening before the game against Spain, the English All-Star team trained harder than they'd ever done before. Even the most uncomfortable members of the team put aside any personal issues, and nothing was done or thought of but Quidditch.
By the time the practice was concluded, it was eight o'clock in the evening. The team was tired; they had trained since two in the afternoon, with a brief break of half an hour at six to eat. So, after they had dismounted, the players all went to the locker rooms to shower, and go to their tents and turn in for the night. There would be a game the next day, and everyone needed his or her beauty sleep.
Skyler Zabini had given Carl Warrington a 'Stay behind and wait for me' look before going into the women's locker room after Cass.
So, he waited.
Cass came out about ten minutes after she'd gone in, given him a half-hearted, somewhat absent wave, before she walked off towards the tent that she and Skyler shared.
Fifteen minutes… twenty… twenty-five… and finally, the door to the locker room opened, and Skyler emerged, humming slightly to herself as she rubbed her damp hair with a towel. Making her… not-completely-buttoned robe shift in such a way that… all right, perhaps he shouldn't stare at anything but her face.
She smiled beatifically when she saw him, and the grin turned mischievous when his eyes widened as she walked closer. "Having a good evening?" she purred softly.
He nodded, and she smirked at him before planting a lightning-fast, light kiss on his lips. But before he could respond, she had pulled back, and was steadily backing away from him, her eyebrows quirked.
He scowled at her, stepping forward with every step she took back, "Tease."
"Horny male," she retorted, and continued walking away from him. He followed, growling as she giggled.
"Oh, dear… we seem to have reached a tent," she said a few moments later, the back of her leg brushing one of the wooden poles.
"That's my tent," he stated.
"Oh… so it is," she grinned, then stepped up to him, "You seem to have… cornered me."
"You planned this, and you know it," he muttered, then smirked, "Not that I'm objecting, by any means…"
The moon rose in the sky, and the shadow of two forms, standing by one tent, melded together. She finally allowed him to kiss her, for real and completely, at that time, and the two just stood there, holding each other, for a few moments. And then, the young woman gave a little shriek as the man picked her up in his arms and threw her over his shoulder, striding into the tent.
"Put me down, you swarthy git," Skyler laughed, her upper body hanging over his shoulder, his arms supporting her. He laughed, a deep chuckle, as he continued forward further into the tent, ignoring her protests and the flailing of her slim, muscular arms.
"Oh, believe me I will put you down soon enough… bed's only about ten feet ahead," he said lowly. "Although… if this is how you're paying up for that wager… well, I don't know if I will be satisfied with this… just the once…" He threw her down, albeit gently, on the bed, and drew her into his arms, looking at her expectantly.
She gave him a coy smile. "Demanding, demanding… Oh, I'm sure that we can work something out…" she said softly before twining her arms around his neck and pulling his lips down to hers.
* * *
The day of the Quidditch World Cup dawned bright and sunny, and Skyler awoke feeling delightfully languid yet rested. There was a rather ticklish sensation on her bare upper back, and she opened her eyes, violet meeting brown and locking.
"Good morning, you," she said, stretching lazily, before adding teasingly, "Had a good night's sleep?"
He smirked, and moved his hand up from her back to her shoulder, playing with a strand of her hair, "The parts of it that I did sleep, sure… but if you will recall, sleep didn't happen much…"
"True enough," she acknowledged, "How long have you been awake?"
"A while," he said simply, "You were smiling in your sleep."
"Oh, really?" she said saucily, "Fancy that…"
"Need a cold shower, perhaps?" he asked mischievously. She gave him a mock-glare, and swatted him on the shoulder.
"Now, now… you were the one who almost forgot the charm that time… what if I hadn't remembered it? That might be bad, you know…" her voice was half-scolding, but her eyes were serious. "Carl…"
"I know," he said lowly in her ear, "If something like that had happened, I promise that you wouldn't have to deal with the consequences alone."
She quirked an eyebrow mockingly at him, though her eyes gleamed, "Why, are you actually implying that you would act in a responsible fashion?"
"It happens every once in a great while," he chuckled, "In any case, I would have to be there to personally ensure the corruption of my own offspring."
"I am very glad indeed that we did perform the charm… little Warrington sproglets… scary thought…" Skyler muttered to herself, "I should probably get going, though… before Cass or someone starts looking for me…"
He nodded, and watched silently as she donned her Quidditch robes, putting her hair up with a spell. "I'll see you later."
"Soon," he amended, taking one of her hands and bringing the fingertips to his lips. "Good luck out there today."
"You too." And quietly, she slipped out.
* * *
Skyler strode into her tent just as Cass had finished putting on the blue outer-robe of the English Quidditch uniform. The Chaser was rather taciturn, almost melancholy, and raised an eyebrow when Skyler walked in, grinning ear to ear.
"Good morning, Cass," Skyler greeted her merrily, "Ready for the game?"
"You're back… you've been out all night."
"Yes," Skyler smiled at the other woman, "Sleep well?"
"What were you doing all night?"
Skyler grinned hugely, "Don't you mean 'Who were you doing all night?' Carl. Warrington."
Cass stared, eyes wide as saucers, "You… were… Warrington and you… why?!"
"Because we wanted to," Skyler said candidly.
"You… and him…"
"Yes, we're together," Skyler said gently, "And… smart-arsed attitude aside, I quite like him. Well, come to think of it, the attitude is entertaining as well."
Cass shook her head, "Besotted… never thought I'd see the day."
"Oh, stranger things can happen," Skyler said briskly, "I'm sure that I will live to see far stranger couples than Carl and myself. But… we should get going, hmm?
"Yes… yes, of course," Cass said quickly. Quietly, she followed the younger woman out of the tent and to the locker room.
Well… Skyler was happy. And although she, Cass, had no idea what the Beater saw in Warrington… she supposed that she should be glad for her friend. Both her friends.
And she was. Love was a glorious, splendid thing…
Pfft… like she would know.
Maybe she did… maybe.
Okay… so maybe it wasn't always glorious and splendid. Figures.
Shaking her head to clear the confused, muddled thoughts, she went to join the rest of the team, avoiding looking at… someone, and waited for the signal words from the announcer that would cue for them to fly out.
"Welcome to the Quidditch World Cup! This is it, ladies and gentlemen, the final game, between the English and Spanish teams! This should be an exciting game, and no one knows what the outcome will be! For the Spanish team, we have De Las Casas! De Luna! De Oro! Lucia! Rodriguez! San Josefina! Aaaand, SANCHEZ!"
They could hear the crowds cheering, and then, the announcer spoke again.
"For the English team, we have Cornfoot! Flint! Warrington! Whitby! Wood! Aaaand, POTTER!"
They flew out, and Cass took position in the air between Warrington and Cornfoot, and watched as Oliver landed in the middle of the pitch to shake hands with the Spanish captain, Beater Pedro Rodriguez.
The men shook hands, and then took to the air.
The bludgers and snitch were released. And then, the referee, a fierce-looking woman strangely reminiscent of Madam Hooch, took the Quaffle and threw it into the air.
And the game began…
*~*~*~*
And the game shall be described in the next chapter! This fic is on its last legs of the journey ~_^!! Review!!