NOTES:

            Are you sad that it's over? No worries, there's an epilogue!

DEDICATION:

            To… someone!

DISCLAIMER:

            I never learnt the art of sharing in kindergarten, so I was therefore not allowed to own them.

*~*~*~*

            "I propose a toast, everyone!" Carl Warrington's voice rang out over the laughter of the people gathered in the banquet room. Grinning impishly, the Slytherin raised his glass and chortled, "To the cutest ickle couple ever to grace the Quidditch world with their marvelous presences. Oliver and Cass… congratulations for finally coming out of denial; may there be much snarkiness and even more shagging for the rest of both your lives!"

            He ducked as Cass threw a biscuit at his head; then winced as Skyler, who was sitting next to him, swatted him upside the head. "What? It's true!"

            "Yes, perhaps," Skyler rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "But that doesn't mean that we had to hear it."

            "Oh, you threw this party with me," Warrington retorted with a grin. "Speaking of which… where are the rest of the people?"

            "Oh… Angelina has to stop by her mother-in-law's, to drop off the baby. And Blaise should be here…"

            "Hullo everyone, sorry I'm late," Blaise Zabini, Slytherin Unspeakable extraordinaire, came striding in. He grinned apologetically at his sister, before taking the offered seat next to Draco Malfoy, "I got held up at the Post Office… Sky, I just had to… have words with some git or another, who wanted to know if you were available…" Blaise scowled, and Skyler raised an eyebrow.

            "Who? What? I hope you told them that I was not…"

            "Well of course I did," Blaise's dark, handsome face had a look of protective big-brotherly outrage, "The very idea…"

            "Indeed," Warrington muttered, "Does the bloke even know her?"

            Blaise shook his head, looking at the other Slytherin as if finding, at long last, a commiserating confidant. "Just saw her play Quidditch. Arse thought that he was good enough for my sister…"

            "How dare he," Warrington narrowed his eyes, "He should be hexed beyond recognition."

            "I know…" Blaise growled, and Skyler, giving Warrington a reproving look, turned to her brother.

            "Blaise, I hope you didn't really hex him beyond recognition, whoever he was…"

            "No comment whatsoever," Blaise answered, taking a sip of his wine, "Oh, congratulations, by the way… on winning the game. That was bloody brilliant."

            A few words of thanks greeted this statement, and Draco Malfoy cocked an eyebrow, "Blaise, I'm going to have to disown you as a friend. You just quoted Ron Weasley."

            "As you married Weasley's sister, you have no room to talk," Blaise shot back, even as Ginny glared at her husband and smacked his hand that was resting on her thigh.

            The crowd laughed, and the rest of the meal dissolved in merry banter.

            After the food had been cleared away, the people began forming into couples, as music filled the room.

            Blaise, at the moment, held Carl Warrington in the highest esteem. The bloke was obviously a perceptive, sensitive fellow who knew what it must be like, fending off miscreants who were presumptuous enough to want to get with his baby sister… his baby sister who deserved someone far better.

            Warrington was obviously a friend of Sky's, from how they were talking in a friendly fashion. And then, he asked her to dance.

            Blaise blinked somewhat. Well… all right… that was all right. After all, dancing was just dancing. He himself was dancing with Malfoy's wife for this one. It didn't mean anything. Right? Right?!

            However, his benevolent feelings towards the older Slytherin man turned to alarm and dismay when Warrington held Skyler closer to him than was necessary, and bent his head over… oh dear LORD… over Skyler's neck, and Skyler actually giggled.

            What… the… hell…?

             Narrowing his eyes, Blaise excused himself and walked towards his sister and… what was Warrington DOING touching her hair?!

            "Skyler."

            "Oh, hi, Blaise," Skyler turned her head to see her brother standing a few feet away from her and Carl Warrington. Blaise's arms were crossed over his chest, and he was looking at them suspiciously.

            "What're the two of you doing?"

            "Why, isn't it obvious?" Skyler raised an eyebrow, "Dancing."

            "I see," Blaise frowned slightly, then scowled, "THEN WHY IS HIS HAND ON YOUR ARSE?!"

            "It's such a nice arse," Carl Warrington said with a grin. Blaise's eyes bugged out.

            "Skyler Zabini, what are you doing with this… this… git?!"

            "I told you, Blaise… we're dancing… although in a few hours, we'll probably be shagging," Skyler said matter-of-factly.

            Only years of iron control gained from working as an Unspeakable prevented Blaise from shrieking "You… you traitor!!" at Carl Warrington in an inhumanly high voice (or at least a voice too high to be male), thereby humiliating himself in front of the entire assembly and not making any sense whatsoever anyway… for really, Warrington didn't… betray him… nevertheless…

            "WHAT THE DEVIL'S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?! HOW DARE YOU LAY A HAND ON MY SISTER?!"

            "Would you prefer I lay some other body part on her instead?" Warrington asked blandly, "That can be arranged as well."

            "Oh, come off it, Blaise… I'm a grown woman now. I can shag whomever I please, and moreover… much as this might shock you, we're in love. And if you don't want him to lay a hand on me, well… I will just have to lay my hands on him, hmm?"

            "My sweet… sweet baby sister…" Blaise muttered in disbelief. Skyler gave an unladylike snort.

            "Don't insult me, Blaisey… I'm not sweet… and I'm certainly not a baby…"

            "Oh, you're quite sweet," Warrington whispered into her hair, his lips brushing against her earlobe, "But I will have to concur about the 'not baby' part…" Saying so, he gave the horrified Blaise an impudent smile, and caught Skyler's lips in his own. Skyler kissed him back enthusiastically, and poor Blaise found it necessary to sit down at the nearest seat so that he did not faint in a completely un-masculine manner from the horror.

            Skyler glanced pityingly at her shell-shocked brother, sitting at a table several feet away from them, watching them with horror-struck eyes. "That was rather mean of us…"

            "I know," Warrington put on a solemn face for a moment, then grinned, "Perhaps we should set your brother up with your friend Alice over there, to… ah… distract him?"

            Skyler looked at him like he had grown two heads, "You want to set my brother up with a female Beater. Merlin, just because you obviously have masochistic tendencies for pursuing the type doesn't mean that he does, too… and especially a female Beater with a boyfriend."

            "Boyfriend?" Warrington raised an eyebrow, "Oh… didn't know that. Too bad… your brother seems the type to need some unbridled shagging."

            "Not a pleasant mental image, thank you very much," Skyler rolled her eyes, "He'll get over it sometime. Expect a few howlers in the next few days, though."

            "I'd be most insulted if I didn't get any," he reassured her, laughing, "Not every day his sister goes off with a complete rogue."

            "True…" Skyler acknowledged with a grin, "Whatever was I thinking?"

            "Whatever you were thinking, keep on thinking it," he declared, "And I'm going to take you at your word about the shagging in a few hours."

*          *          *

            As the hapless Blaise Zabini was sitting at a table, having a conniption of gargantuan proportions over the lost innocence of his sister (assuming that she ever had any), Oliver and Cass were sitting at another table.

            "I hate dancing," Cass had informed him, "It's nothing compared to Quidditch."

            It was a good thing that they agreed on that point.

            And so, the two found themselves occupied in far more pleasant activities; that is, they were having an animated debate about various Quidditch tactics used by the Spanish team during the World Cup.

            This took a good portion of two hours, and then, Cass took a surreptitious look at the others. Most were still dancing. Blaise Zabini was sitting by himself, drinking. She shook her head.

            "Poor sod…"

            "Hmm?" Oliver turned his head in the direction that she was looking, and frowned slightly, "What's he doing drinking like that?"

            Cass smiled wryly, "I think he just found out that Sky was shagging Warrington."

            Oliver winced, "Oh dear… that can't be good…"

            "From the way Sky and Carl are grinning… it must have been very ugly indeed," Cass whispered in his ear, "Well, this is what older brothers get for being overprotective prats."

            Oliver looked down at her face. Her eyes were narrowed, her expression mutinous. Taking one of her hands in his own, he caressed her palm with his thumb, and said softly, "I'm sure that Marcus… deep down… is proud of you. For having the guts to stand up to him, among other things… not to mention… that he's the brother of the finest ruddy Chaser of the time."

            Cass gave him a wry smile, "If you say so…"

            "I do," Oliver said firmly, "And I know that… I would be proud of you. Damn proud… if you were my sister… but…" he kissed the hand he held in his own, and grinned impishly at her, "Have to say that I'm glad you're not."

             Cass gave him a long look, then glanced at the crowd once again, before turning back to him. "Say… I never did tell you where I lived, did I?"

            "No, you never did… would have been mightily convenient… that time you were drunk," Oliver chuckled, "Although… I wouldn't have seen you in my Quidditch robes then, so I suppose it was all good after all."

            Cass gave him a catty grin, and pulled his hand towards the exit, "Say… I've a proposition for you, Wood."

            "Oh, let's hear it, Flint," Oliver looked at her, eyes glinting.

            "I think that it would be best for me to give you a tour of my flat," she purred in his ear, as she continued pulling him towards the door, "And as for wearing your Quidditch robes… well, I know I've a red bed sheet somewhere… I'm sure we can improvise…"

            Oliver raised an eyebrow; then grinned, "I like the proposition a lot."

            "I figured you would," she whispered huskily in his ear, "It's providential… you're going to be spending a lot of time at my flat in the near future, I believe."

            Oliver smiled as he pulled her willing form into his arms, "Who said anything about the near future?" he murmured into her dark hair, "The far future too, if I have any say in the matter. How does the next, oh… eighty or so years sound?"

            Cass paused, and looked at him, eyes wide, "Is this what I think this is?"

            "If you wish, then it is," Oliver said seriously, gazing down at her, one hand on her arm, "I know this is rather fast… but I figured… well, you're something special, Cass… and I want you in my life for as long as I can possibly keep you."

            She gazed at him in shock for a moment, then grinned and threw her arms around him, "Sounds like a plan to me," she laughed, "Now… we were talking about a tour of my flat?"

            "Lead the way," Oliver pulled her close, one hand resting on her hip, the other stroking her cheek.

            Cass grinned, and leaned up to seal all their agreements with a kiss. And a moment later, the two Disapparated with a pop.

            Now… there was a win of a lifetime!

*~*~*~*

WHEEE!!! Finished fic! Epilogue coming soon!! Review!!