A/N: Hey dudes, and dudettes.it's been a
really hard, hectic, emotionally draining week.so
sorry for the delay. Here's what you've been waiting for!
Disclaimer: No, I am not JKROWLING too bad, eh? Hope you like!
I woke up on Sunday at an unnaturally early hour for me. I pulled on some
clothes and went down into the common room, where Thomas Van Haulsten sat reading Flying with the Cannons. Thomas is a
seventh year, also. He looked really frustrated and tired.
"Oi, Tom, why so glum?"
I asked as I sat on a sofa across from him.
He looked up and muttered, "Bloody roommates..."
I grinned. "What did they do to you now?"
He closed his book and said, "Oliver won't go to sleep, therefore I can't
sleep because he keeps tossing and turning. Honestly, he's been doing it for
nights, but this was terrible."
"What's his problem?" I asked.
He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Girls.
Which is entirely understandable, for the most part.
But, really, this girl is getting to him."
"Oh."
"He won't even tell us who it is. Poor guy, he's a goner. He's in deep.
This girl already has him whipped. Or, rather, he whipped himself," he
explained. Then he grinned widely. "It's actually really a laugh."
I grinned back. "I reckon it would be."
"So why are you down here so early?"
"No reason. Just woke up."
Then Oliver showed up at the balcony/top of the staircase. He stopped and
turned abruptly and again disappeared.
Eventually the house woke up and Gryffindors passed through the common room, on
their way to the Great Hall.
I counted four Gryffindor seventh year boys in the common room that morning.
The fifth was still up in his dormitory.
I needed to talk to him. I wasn't sure what I was going to say or how I was
going to say it, but I knew I needed to talk to him.
When the common room was almost cleared, I went up the boys
dorm stairs. I passed several doors before I came upon one labeled,
"Seventh Years."
I took a deep breath and knocked gently on the door.
"What do you want?!" I heard on the other side of the door.
I chose to ignore his rudeness and try again. "Oliver?"
Dead silence.
"Oliver, it's Katie. Can I come in?" I
asked. Then I heard a few banging noises as he stumbled to the door and opened
it.
"Um, yeah, I guess so," he said, and opened the door so I could come
in.
The dorm was the same as mine, but more messy of course.
After he closed the door, he asked nonchalantly, "So, what's up?"
"I wanted to know why you left me there last night," I said
confidently, with eyebrows raised.
He squinted and shook his head slightly, "I told you that I would leave
you alone if you didn't return my feelings. You said you didn't ... so I
left."
I grinned sweetly at him. "You didn't let me finish."
"Finish what?"
"What I was going to say."
He looked surprised. "Oh, what were you going to say?"
"I was going to say...that I don't know how I feel about you."
"Oh." He said, seemingly more surprised.
I smirked.
He looked at me suddenly. "When will you know?"
I had to giggle slightly. "I don't know when I'll know."
"OK," he said. "Sorry for being a jerk about all this."
"You aren't a jerk, Oliver," I said, and punched his chin gently and
playfully. He smiled. "So, I make you smile?"
He nodded and shrugged, "You have your days..."
In front of the bed next to me I saw a trunk with the initials 'O. W. ' on it.
I sat on the bed and turned to him. "If you don't mind me asking, when did
this all start?"
He stood in front of me, and shrugged again, "I don't know...a couple of
months ago?"
It would be about two months ago when we had that private practice time
together.
"Then...I dunno. I just started...well...looking
for you wherever I was. Not in a creep stalker way, mind you..." he said.
I noticed that he talked with his hands a lot.
I nodded. "I'm glad."
"It was just that whenever I got into the Great Hall, I'd look around to
see if you were there. That and you're a lot of fun to talk to...most of the
time."
I smiled. "Yeah, I can see why you'd say most of the time...anyway."
He shrugged again and said, "For a while there, I could have sworn you
hated my frickin' guts, Kates."
I laughed and shut my eyes tightly remembering my stupid hatred to ward the boy
standing in front of me. I opened my eyes and shrugged. "I did."
"Why?" he asked.
"Jealousy...mostly," I answered. "Some things about you
frustrate me."
"What frustrated you?" he asked me curiously, crossing his arms.
"You are a better flyer than me, a better student," I say. It
occurred to me how stupid I sounded. "It just seemed like everything just
comes so easy to you. I didn't feel like it was fair. You have the whole
'perfection' complex-"
"HA! You're too funny, Kates. Seriously.
Me perfect? No. That would be you." He said.
It was my turn to say, "HA!"
He stared in what looked like disbelief, "You're very modest about it,
too, I see."
"Everything comes to you easy! You are quite possibly the only other boy
in school who has a fan club, besides our Harry. All those girls even come easy
to you!"
He laughed, "How old are they? Like four?"
"Try fourteen."
"That's besides the point," he says.
"Well, I know one thing that doesn't come easy to me..."
"What?"
"You."
I glared. He was wrong. "Oliver..."
"Yes?" he said, taking a step closer to the bed.
"We should...go down to breakfast."
"Yeah..." he muttered as I stood up in front of him.
He didn't back off. It was just like that day when I
started liking him, too. I was right up against him.
Somehow, I think he knew what he was doing. He put his hands on my forearms,
and stared warmly into my eyes.
"What are you doing?" I whispered. But, I knew what he was about to
do. I didn't try to stop him.
He leaned in slightly, "Something I meant to do a while ago..."
I closed my eyes. He kissed me.
If it was anything, it was respectful. He wasn't sticking his tongue down the
back of my throat and he wasn't throwing me on the bed and climbing on top of
me or anything.
I liked it, so I kissed him back. I put my arms around his neck. He wrapped his
arms around my waist.
I smiled at the warmth and moistness of his lips on mine. He tasted like sugar
quills, fake quill pens of delicately spun sugar.
When we pulled away from each other, he put his hands on my shoulders and
looked into my eyes, as if to see if I was OK.
I smiled shyly at him. He took me in his arms and hugged me. I buried my
forehead in his shoulder. I murmured into his shirt, "You know, if you had
done that a while ago, it would've saved us a lot of frustration."
I felt him laugh and pat my head. "Kates, Kates, Kates..." he muttered
into my ear.
I pulled out of his embrace and said, "Now we REALLY should go to
breakfast."
He nodded, "You're probably right..."
"I know I'm right," I said smugly, and lead the way out of Oliver's
dormitory, wiping away a little moistness from the corner of my mouth. I always
liked sugar quills.
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Hope you like! Yes, I know.something finally happens!
Review please? Thanks!
