Chapter 3

            At first, everyone was reluctant to dance. No one wanted to be the only one on the dance floor; no one wanted to make a fool of themselves. As he scanned the room looking for some sign of a volunteer, Professor Agallant had an idea. He held out his wand and muttered a few words under his breath. Instantly, the room was plunged into complete darkness. A few girls screamed but the music kept going so they figured that the lights were meant to go off.

            Alison hated not being able to dance to Kryptonite. It was one of her favourite songs. Grimacing, she glanced over at Oliver and was surprised to him swaying slightly, though she wasn't sure if that because he was so scared he was going to faint or because he actually liked the song.  The lights flashed on his face throwing his handsome features into sharp relief.  When he looked at her, she smiled and said, 'Wanna dance?' Just then, the light went out and the room was plunged into darkness. Through the darkness she could hear Professor Agallant say, 'It's ok, just start dancing, or we'll never have a dance lesson again.' All around her, Alison could feel people pushing past her on their way towards the dance floor near the front of the room. she groped in the dark for Oliver's hand and when she found it, she pulled him onto the dance floor, despite heavy resistance on his part.

            As she stepped onto the floor, she began to sway to the beat. As she swayed, she could feel Oliver next to her, his hand in hers. Then, all of a sudden, the light came back on, but by now, everyone was on the dance floor, so it no longer mattered. Alison found herself right in the center of the floor with Oliver by her side. Right next to them stood Alicia and Angelina. Kryptonite was then replaced by When you're looking like that' by Westlife. A huge beam spread across Alison's face and she began to dance. As she danced, the rest of the people moved out of her way and formed a circle around her. Softly, Alicia whispered, 'Is there anything that girl can't do? I mean, she can dance, she's smart, she can probably play a lot of sports. It's so unfair!'

'God, she's amazing!'

Oliver watched her dance, wonder on his face. Never before had he seen anyone move so gracefully and look so completely oblivious to the attention she was receiving. Her swaying hips hypnotized him and he could have watched her dance for an eternity. Then he looked at the boy next to him and groaned. Why did Cedric have to watch her dance? Oliver could tell that he was attracted to her as it was, but from the look on his face, Oliver knew he had no chance at all with Alison. For the look on Cedric's face was one that Oliver knew very well. It was the look Cedric wore when he had spotted a target. When the song ended, people began to dance again and Alison looked around for Oliver. Instead she saw Alicia and Angelina gaping at her. 'What?' she exclaimed. 'Why the hell are you staring at me?'

'Where did you learn to dance like that?'

'I don't know…everyone in South Africa knows how to dance, I guess!'

'You have got to teach us! It will be so much fun'

Before Alison could respond, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She swung around expecting to see Oliver, but instead she looked straight into the eyes of Cedric. Smiling he said, 'That was some dance!' Embarrassed, Alison lowered her eyes and mumbled, 'Thanks…' Just then, she saw Oliver walking over to them. Chuckling, he said, 'Jesus, when you were dancing, pretty much everyone stopped to watch! You were amazing!' Her ears burning, Alison yelled, 'Bloody Hell! Will you shut up!!' The rest of them burst out laughing at her indignance. After another half an hour of dancing during which Alison discovered that Oliver wasn't half as bad a dancer as he had said he was, he was rather good. All he needed to do was just let himself go a little bit more.  When she told him that, he said in a voice that suggested he thought she was a bit loopy, 'If I let myself go any further, I wont be able to control myself, and you wouldn't want that, now would you?' Giggling, Alison agreed. Further away, Cedric was dancing with another girl, but his mind was on Alison. She and Oliver seemed to be spending an awful lot of time together. He wondered if there was anything going on between the two of them. But then he dismissed the thought. Oliver wouldn't know a babe if she bit him on the ass.

            A half hour later, Professor Agallant turned off the music just as the bell rang for the end of the first period. Gesturing for them to sit down, he said, 'Well, did you all have fun?' to which he received a unanimous affirmation. Smiling he said, 'well then, I'm glad to inform you that we will be having an inter house dance competition. The categories are as follows: A pair who are prepared beforehand and a pair who will be expected to improvise on stage and a group of at least four who are prepared beforehand. The whole affair will be held on the night of Halloween. It will be a ball, but all of you will be required to dress in formal Muggle costume. By formal, I mean tuxedoes for the gentlemen and gowns for the ladies. The tryouts for the competition will be held tomorrow for the boys and the day after for the girls. And they will be conducted in the following manner. The girls of each house will choose the best boys of their own house and vice versa when it comes to the girls' tryouts. Any questions?' Oliver raised his hand. 'Yes, Oliver.'

'Do we all have to try out, Professor?'

'Well, not really, but it is encouraged, but to answer your question, no it is not compulsory for you to try out.'

Relieved, Oliver let out a huge sigh causing the whole class to burst out laughing. Alison looked over at him and said to herself, 'He'll try out if it's the last thing he does in his life!' She was about to tell him when she felt someone come up behind her. Before she turned already knew who it was going to be, Cedric! Turning around, she forced a smile on her face around, she and then turned back. Cedric grasped her shoulder and he lowered his lips to her ears and whispered, 'Meet me outside the Grand Hall in lunch.' Before Alison could respond, Cedric had walked back to his friends on the other side of the room. Alison glanced over at Oliver and was surprised by the look on his face. His expression was a mixture of pain and what seemed like severe constipation. Alarmed Alison began to ask him what the matter was when she heard Alicia say her name from behind her. She turned around and saw Alicia and Angelina wearing huge smiles on their faces. Annoyed that they had prevented her from asking Oliver what the matter was, she said, 'What?' While Alicia giggled behind her hand, Angelina whispered, 'Cedric really likes you…we heard him telling his friend that he would love to go out with you. I think that's what he's going to tell you when you meet him today. Isn't that brilliant? You are just so lucky! I mean, once he's asked you out you'll have everything a girl could possibly ask for, brains, beauty and a gorgeous boyfriend. 'Alison broke in angrily, 'But I don't like him! I mean, I don't want him to ask me out, I don't want a boyfriend, it's just not my piece of cake. I….' She trailed off. She didn't need to explain to them why she didn't want a boyfriend. She didn't trust any boy enough to hold her in his arms and not maul her. But as she thought this, Oliver's face drifted into her mind's eye. He had held her in his arms so many times and not once had he tried to maul her. When she was in his arms, she always felt so completely safe, as though nothing would ever harm her again.

*****

            Oliver saw Cedric leaning towards Alison and although, he tried not to listen, he could hear every word that Cedric whispered as clearly as though he had been meant to hear it. And although he kept trying to convince himself that Alison and he would never be anything but friends, when he heard Cedric arrange for a meeting outside the Great Hall at lunch, his heart sank and he tried to keep the pain from showing on his face. Just as Alison was about to open her mouth to ask him something, probably about the strange expression on his face, Alicia and Angelina began to whisper something while giggling. Although he hadn't heard what they said, he heard Alison response and although he didn't admit it to himself, he was happy that she didn't want a boyfriend, but at the same time, that fact caused him sorrow for it emphasized the fact that he would never be able to kiss her soft lips again. And as he thought that, he thought back to that night, and how he couldn't sleep at all, how much ever he tossed and turned. When he had kissed her, he hadn't wanted to stop, he had wanted to sweep her up in his arms and stroke her silky smooth hair and run his hands down the sides of her perfect frame. But he hadn't done any of those things, and he was relieved he hadn't. For that kiss could have ruined

everything, their friendship, a friendship unlike any he had known before. Shaking His head, he tried to force the thought of that night out of his head. But all he could think of were her soft lips, and smooth skin.         

His reverie was interrupted by Professor Agallant saying, 'And next week, I would like all of you to bring something comfortable to change into, I don't want you flapping around the field trying to play Muggle Sports in those robes. Anyone who forgets will not be permitted to play!! Now we're going to watch the rest of that video that we started last week. At this, all the girls' faces lit up, Marat Safin's various 'attributes' had not gone unnoticed, or for that matter, unappreciated. Alison wasn't completely unhappy about it either, seeing as how he was her favourite player for more than just his proficiency at the game.

            As the class trooped out of the class twenty-five minutes later, the topic of conversation amongst the girls concerned Marat Safin and his 'sculpted' features. Oliver listened in disbelief as the Alicia and Angelina gushed on about his curly brown hair with a girl from Hufflepuff. Noticing the look of disbelief on his face, Alison looked at him enquiringly. 'I don't get it,' said Oliver, 'he wasn't that good looking! Why do they like him?' Alison answered, in a matter of fact tone of voice, 'Well, firstly, he's famous and secondly, he's got a perfectly toned body and really, that's all that matters to most girls. Looks don't count for too much anymore, so basically, if a guy is average in the looks department and near the top of the physical department, he's every girl's dream! It's as simple as that!'

'And you say we're shallow!'

'You are! The perfect girl is boobs on a stick, admit it, Oliver! I've been around a while; I know what a guy wants!'

'That is NOT true! We look at a girl's…umm..'

'Boobs?'

'NO, we look at other things, like…umm…Character!! Yeah! That's really important to guys.'

'Yeah, the easier she is, the better, huh?'

Oliver flushed, and opened and closed his mouth before giving up and snorting. Alison laughed and said, 'Well, if it's any consolation, a lot of girls are just as shallow. Whoever said size doesn't matter obviously never had sex.'

Oliver turned to her and said, in a sharp voice, 'So you're telling me that you've had sex?'

'No, but my friend has and the thing with girls, we talk! And about everything. And everything includes sex! But I've never had sex, myself, well, not willingly.' At this Oliver's face fell and he looked at the ground. In a soft voice, he said, 'Fck, I'm so sorry, I should never have asked you that question.'

'It's alright, I'm over it, I think.' In silence, they walked to the Potions classroom. With every step that she took, Alison's dread at having to go to Potions increased, not because she didn't like the subject but because of the fact that she had Marcus Flint in her class. The guy gave her the creeps. There was something fundamentally wrong with him. As she stepped into the class, she heard his sneering voice from somewhere in the gloom of the classroom. 'Dance for me, Tippytoes!'

'Well, I would, Flint, but it might make your mommy jealous. I heard she usually 'dances' for you. She wouldn't like the fact that you've changed lovers, now would she?' Flint's face looked like he had been slapped hard. He gaped at her as she tossed her bag on the floor and sat down next to Oliver. 'Nice one!' he whispered. Alison acknowledged his compliment with a slight nod of the head, she didn't want to get too pleased with herself, just in case Flint had something else up his sleeve. Just then Snape billowed into the dark dungeon. After he wrote the lesson's assignment on the board, he walked around the classroom collecting the homework, commenting several times on the state the homework was in. More often than not, he was referring to the work of a Gryffindor. When he got to Alison, however, he could find no faults. Her paper was as clean as a whistle and the writing so clear, it looked like it had been typed. Without a word, he snatched the paper from Alison's outstretched hand before turning to Oliver. Luckily for Oliver, Alison had looked over his work and suggested that he rewrite, not because the contents made no sense, for they did, but because it was so shabbily presented.           

            When Snape had finished collecting the homework, he explained the assignment which read, 'Put the recipe created during the homework into practice. You have one hour.' Alison groaned. How on earth were they supposed to remember the potion they had made in the Homework? She raised her hand into the air. When Snape looked at her and nodded, she said, 'How are we supposed to do the assignment if we don't have the recipes with us?' Snape's face went an alarming shade of purple and he looked ready to burst, whether with anger or embarrassment, Alison couldn't tell. In a voice, apoplectic with rage, he said, 'Did you not learn the recipe off by heart? Did anyone learn the recipe off by heart?' When no one answered, he yelled, 'Did you not realize that I would make you test your potions? I thought that this year your class would not be as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually teach. But as Miss Adams has so clearly demonstrated, you are a bunch of dunderheads! In fact, you're worse, you are the most stupid dunderheads I have ever had the misfortune of teaching.' Although this little speech was directed at the whole class, by the time Snape was done, he was standing about an inch away from Alison, his face contorted with fury. Such was his fury that Alison felt as though his rage was directed at her. Suddenly he turned his back on her and walked to the front of the class. He picked up the sheaf of papers on his desk and then walked around the classroom distributing the papers. Alison sat down, her ears ringing from the lecture. Silently, she took back her recipe and began to put it into practice. Beside her Oliver did the same.

            As Snape sat at the front, a vein twitching in his temple as he surveyed the class, Oliver scribbled something on a piece of parchment and slid it over to her. The note read, 'You all right? He was pretty harsh on you, the mean son of a btch.' Alison caught Oliver's eye, before nodding and giving him a small smile. When the bell rang, a half hour later, Alison gathered her stuff and rushed out of the classroom as fast as she possibly could. She made her way to the Great Hall in a huge hurry and was one of the first people to get there. She was joined a few minutes later by Oliver. As they sat down at the Gryffindor table, Alicia, Angelina and Katie entered the hall with their respective boyfriends. Spotting them, Alicia and the rest made their way over to where Oliver and Alison were sitting. Noticing the grim look on their faces, she asked, 'Bad lesson with Snape?' to which Oliver answered, 'Every lesson with Snape is a bad lesson, and it really doesn't help that I have that little prick, Marcus Flint in my class. He is such an arsehole!' Fred asked, 'What'd he do?' Oliver told him what Flint had said and what Alison had said in return and all of them burst out laughing.      

            When the laughter died down, the conversation turned to the tryouts for the dance competition the next day. Oliver blatantly refused to try out, however much the girls tried to persuade him to do so. 'I absolutely, refuse to make a huge fool of myself, house points or no house points. I'll win points by Quidditch; all the pretty boys can do the dancing.' Eventually, however after much persuasion, he gave in and agreed to try out. Alison smiled to herself, Oliver was going to be a huge hit, she was sure of that!    

            That evening, Alison went up to the dorms earlier than the rest of the girls. All that day, her eyes had been closing and she really needed to catch up on some sleep. She sat on the bed brushing out her hair, when someone knocked on the door. Alison yelled for the person to come in. the door opened and Oliver walked in wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt. Alison patted the bed beside her as she combed her hair and Oliver sat down next to her. He said, 'I don't think I'm going to try out tomorrow, I really don't know how to dance.' Indignantly, Alison said, 'Yes, you do, I saw you dance. And you are very good…you just need to let yourself go a little more, ok? Just move to the beat. It's really easy once you get the hang of it. She stopped brushing her hair and turned to him. 'You know,' she said, 'you were probably the best dancer out there today. You have a…natural grace that all athletes seem to have and it really helps. So I wouldn't worry, if I were you.' Oliver looked at her face framed by her long chestnut hair and felt that urge again. Softly, he said, 'Can I try something?' When Alison nodded in a bemused sort of way, he raised his hand to her hair and pushed some of it to one side and the rest to the other. The result was a zigzag parting that made half her hair fall to one side of her face and the rest to the other.

As he pulled his hand away and examined his handiwork, he said, 'You should wear your hair like this, it suits you.' Slightly miffed, she said, 'I wouldn't talk about hair styling if I were you!'

'What the fuck is wrong with my hair?'

'Well, it wouldn't hurt you to comb it once in a while.'

After this, there was a silence that lasted a while. Oliver finally broke the silence by saying, 'Well, the reason I came here was because I want you to teach me how to dance. I know you're a girl and all, but maybe, maybe you know some guy moves.'

'You're not gonna let this go, are you?'

'Nope.'

'Well, if it makes you feel any better, you were the best dancer in that room, today, ok?'

'You're just saying that cuz you wanna go to sleep.'

'Oliver!!!'

'Alright, alright! I'm goin, goodnight.'

'Goodnight, Sleep tight!'

Oliver got up and walked towards the door. Alison thought he hesitated for a fraction of a second at the door, before walking out. She closed her eyes. Suddenly, she jolted up in bed; she hadn't met Cedric at lunch! What if it had really been something important? As she lay back down, she vowed to talk to him the next day. 

            The next day dawned bright and sunny, a perfect day for Quidditch as it turned out. Alison was awakened by a loud and persistent banging on the door. She jumped out of bed and stomped to the door. Throwing the door open, she saw Oliver stand in the doorway. He was wearing his robes and Hallelujah, his hair was combed. In a croaky voice, she said, 'Oliver, am I on your Quidditch team? No I don't think so! That means that you have no fucking right to bang on this door at six in the morning, seeing as how everyone in this room is not on your team. And you didn't even succeed in waking up your team mates, all you succeeded in doing is putting me in a fowl mood.' By this time, Alicia, Angelina and Katie had gotten up and were listening to this little speech with bated breaths. 'Sorry,' mumbled Oliver. I'll go, now.'

'Oh, gosh, Oliver, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to take me so seriously. I'm generally this bitchy in the morning. Add to the mix a little problem called PMS and we have major bitching day.' At the mention of PMS, Oliver coloured and his ears went bright red. He turned and walked back to the common room. Alison followed him out and once they had reached the Common Room, Alison said, 'What's wrong?'

'Well…it's just that I'm not too comfortable with you talking about your…umm…'

'My period?'

'Yeah!' said Oliver in relief.

'Ok, Oliver, I know you might find this hard to believe but I am a female and I, like the rest of my 'species' do get periods. And if you're going to be my best friend, you're gonna have to get over this childish fear of the word and all of its implications, ok? It's completely natural and you're gonna have to learn to deal with it. Sometimes, before I get my period, I feel really crummy and the only way I can feel better is to be a total bitch. But the good news is that it only lasts a few minutes and then I'm back to normal. So we're ok?'

'Yeah…it's just…well, my mum doesn't talk to me about this sort of stuff, you know?'

'Yes Oliver, but I'm not your mum, I'm your best friend! There's a big difference. You can tell me dirty jokes and I'll laugh, I'm not gonna send you to your room without your supper or whatever it is that your mother does.'

At that moment, the rest of the team walked into the Common Room, Harry half asleep on George's shoulder. Alison suddenly realized that she was wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and tried, as nonchalantly as possible to walk back to the dorm with some of her self-dignity intact.

            When Alison got back to the dorm, she jumped straight into bed and fell asleep. She was awoken an hour and a half later by someone pulling the bedclothes off her. Drowsily, she sat up and looked t her watch. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. She had to be seeing things, the watch said it was 8:30, but breakfast began at 8:15. Shit! She looked at her awakener and saw that it was a highly indignant Alicia. As Alison brushed her teeth, Alicia recounted how Alison was supposed to have woken up at 8:00 and met them for breakfast at 8:15. Through the foam, Alison sprayed, 'Sorry, Alicia!' The apology seemed to soften Alicia's hard approach and she tossed Alison's robes at her before turning around so that Alison could change. As she waited for Alison to change, she said, 'I wish I had your legs.' Abruptly, Alison stopped what she was doing, the robe pulled halfway to her waist. 'What?' she asked. 'When did you see my legs?'

'This morning, in the Common Room. It was all the guys could talk about all practice. I am so jealous. And I don't like the fact that my boyfriend thinks you've got sexy legs. But then again, he's only human.' Alison's face went from pink to red in a matter of seconds. As she fiddled with her tie, Alicia enquired, 'So, what did Cedric say to you?'

'Oh, I didn't meet him, I forgot!'

'You forgot? How could you forget a rendezvous with the sexiest guy in the whole bloody school? Are you crazy? Have you seen Cedric Diggory?'

'Look, he's not my type, he's too…'

'…good looking? Sexy? Perfect?'

'NO, he's just too popular with the girls, and I barely know him. I can't go out with someone I don't know. If you ask me, love is friendship, no more, no less. Of course, in love, you do get to have all the sex but that's about the only difference. If you don't trust the guy, and I don't trust Cedric, it's not possible to love him. That's what I think, anyway!'

            They made their way to the Great Hall and as Alison walked towards the Gryffindor table, she could make out Cedric craning his head to get a better view of her. As she slid into the empty seat next to Oliver, he passed her the paper. Quickly, she skimmed through the paper looking for anything of slight interest. Finding nothing of the sort, she put down the paper and looked at the person sitting across from her. It was Harry. A curious smile on his face, he asked, 'Is that a Muggle newspaper?' When Alison nodded in affirmation, he asked, 'Can I see it?'

'Sure, go ahead. And tell me if you find anything interesting especially if it has something to do with cricket.'

'What about football?' asked Dean Thomas, the boy sitting next to Harry.

'Stupid game, they just have to kick the ball into the goal. Anyone can play football, you don't need even half a brain to play that game.'

Rearing himself up to his full height which was an unimpressive five feet three inches, he said, 'Well, better than a game where there are so many things you have to do that the only people who watch the damn game are brain surgeons.'

'I watch it, I'm not a brain surgeon…'

Before she could finish her sentence, she felt someone come up behind her and she tuned around to see Cedric. He whispered, 'can I talk to you outside for a second?' Temporarily mute, Alison nodded dumbly desperately willing someone to offer to go along with them. But no one did and Alison got up resignedly and accompanied Cedric out of the Hall. Once outside the school building, they walked in silence towards the lake glimmering in the distance. When they reached the lake, he sat down on the ground and beckoned for her to sit on the ground as well. Gingerly, she lowered herself onto the ground. She did not look him in the eye but instead stared straight out over the glimmering surface of the lake. Taking a deep breath, Cedric began to talk. 'Look, Alison, I'm not going to beat around the bush, I'm going to get straight to the point. I like you, I really like you. I think you're smart and sexy and funny. You're everything a guy could ever want in a girl. What I'm trying to say is… I would be honored if you would agree to be my girlfriend.' Alison realized that she had been holding her breath for the length of Cedric's speech and when he was done, she let out the air with a whoosh. She looked him straight in the eye and said, 'I'm sorry Cedric. I can't go out with you, not because I don't like you but because I don't love you. And I'm really not too good with relationships. The only relationship that seems to work for me is friendship. So, I can't go out with you, but we could still be friends. I'm really sorry. I have never been asked out before so I really don't know how to say no properly. I'm sorry, Cedric.'

Cedric got up and dusted the seat of his robes, before holding out a hand to help her up. As they walked back to the castle, Cedric asked, 'is there someone else you like?' Alison glanced at him through the corner of her eye before saying, 'No, there isn't.' But as she said that, something inside her wept. And she realized that she was infatuated, if not in love with not Cedric but Oliver.

*****

As Cedric and Alison walked out of the Great Hall, Oliver's heart sank. He couldn't bear to think about where they were going and what they might do once they got there. And that morning, she had called him her best friend. And he realized how much she meant to him. Before she came, the only topic he discussed with girls was Quidditch, but now, now he had to talk about PMS, and surprisingly, he realized he was ok with it. All around him, people were talking about their classes, but Oliver was oblivious to all the chatter. The same question whirled round his brain, 'Should I ask her out and endanger our friendship, or should I just try to keep our relationship purely friendly.' Alicia's voice broke into his thoughts, 'That girl is just so lucky. Cedric is as hot as they come.' Needless to say that her boyfriend wasn't too pleased about it. Oliver pondered over her statement. And as he compared Cedric's attributes to his own, his heart sank lower and lower until it was somewhere around his toes. Alison slipped into the chair next to him and began to drink her milk quietly. When she realized that all eyes were on her, she looked up and said, 'WHAT?'. In an impatient voice, Angelina asked, 'Well??? What happened? Are you two going out?'

'What?'

'Are you going out with him?'

'With whom?'

'WITH CEDRIC!!"

'Oh, no, I'm not…'

Oliver went from the deepest depths of a dark abyss of despair to the highest peaks of elation. He tried to conceal his happiness and relief but even if he had failed, no one would have noticed, everyone was too busy gaping at Alison who had gone back to nonchalantly drinking her milk. In a flabbergasted voice, Katie asked, 'He asked you out and you said no?'

'Yeah! Why is that so hard to believe? He had to get rejected sooner or later. We're still friends though.'

'You must be the first and last girl to turn him down' said George in an awed voice.

'Yeah, every girl he ever wanted, he got in the end' agreed Lee.

'It's the end of his reign, then, I guess!!' Alison said with a wry smile. She looked at her watch and realized that they had better leave for the next lesson. She picked up her bag and made her way out of the Hall accompanied by the rest.

            After classes, Alison went back to the Common Room to dump her books. She didn't want to have to carry them to the tryouts. She was accompanied by Oliver, who was more than a little nervous. Attempting the old 'I'm sick' routine didn't seem too ridiculous to him. But he knew Alison wasn't going to fall for that. She was just too shrewd. She told him to go change into something more comfortable, while she dropped her books in her dorm. When she got into the dorm, she found her roommates touching up their make up. Sniggering, she walked towards her bed. Katie looked up from the mirror and said, 'What's so funny?'

'Oh, nothing! Nothing at all!'

'Look, just try wearing this make up, just for a while, you will look absolutely stunning' said Angelina. The other two agreed completely with her. Resignedly, Alison set down her books and walked towards where the girls were standing in front of the mirror. She took the eyeliner that Katie held out and deftly outlined her eyes with a smooth line. As she handed back the liner, Angelina asked, 'So you do know how to wear make up, and god, just with that, you look so gorgeous.' A slight gleam came into Alison's eyes and she said, 'I have the most brilliant idea. Why don't we go to the dance club just by Hogsmeade? It will be brilliant. We can take the guys too. It'll be so much fun, and I'll dress up, I swear.'

'There's just one small problem, how do we get there? I refuse to walk there, if that's what you had in mind!'

Alison grinned and walked to her trunk. She threw it open and pulled out a square box that looked a lot like a Rubik's cube. She walked back to them, holding the little cube triumphantly. 'This is a Transporta-Cube. It transports anyone who touches it to wherever they want to go. It's a cross between a port-key and Floo powder. It's really useful, as you can see. So what do you think? Do you wanna go?'

'What if we get caught?'

 'Is that a no? Cuz then I'll just put it back in the trunk.'

'Alright, let's go!' said Katie.

            Suddenly, there came a loud rap on the door and an indignant Oliver stuck his head in and said, 'Damn it, Alison, would you please hurry up?' Oliver stepped into the dorm and Alison's breath caught in her throat. Oliver was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a navy blue turtleneck shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Without a word, Alison walked towards him and as she got closer, she could see the toned muscles of his arms and smell his aftershave. Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the dorm, followed by a slightly puzzled Oliver. 'So, how do I look?' he asked. Alison turned to face him and then smiled. 'You look great!' Oliver looked carefully at her face; there was something different about it. Her eyes seemed to sparkle and then he realized that she was wearing eyeliner. Alison realized what he was doing and she blushed. Oliver looked at her and marveled at the perfection of her features, the full lips, the high cheekbones, the large eyes, the thick lashes, everything about her was perfect. In the Common Room, they were joined by Fred, George and Lee. Fred whispered to George, 'God, I didn't think it was possible, but she looks even better that usual!' When finally, the three girls joined them, the whole group made their way to the Muggle Studies classroom, where the tryouts were being held.

            As they got closer to the classroom, Oliver's heart beat faster and faster. When they entered the classroom, he was devastated to find it filled with all the Gryffindors of 6th and 7th years. He found himself being dragged to Professor Agallant and being signed up by a very enthusiastic Alison. As he watched Professor Agallant print his name onto a sheet of paper, half his mind urged him to make a break for the door and the freedom beyond. In what seemed like a matter of minutes, he heard Professor Agallant calling for silence. Once the talking died down, he said, 'Ok, I hope all contestants have signed up, if not, this is your last chance. No one? The girls will judge the contestants. We have an applaudometer that will measure your applause at the end of the contestant's turn. The top ten contestants will qualify. All right, then, can we have the first contestant please? Fred Weasley, if you would be so kind.' Fred stepped onto the dance floor and as the lights went off and the music started, Fred began to dance. And Alison realized that he wasn't half bad. He moved well to the music. Oliver leaned towards Alison and whispered, 'he is so much better than me! I can't do this!'

'Don't worry, you'll be great! Trust me!'

After Fred, it was George's turn and then Lee's. As time went by and song after song was played, Oliver became increasingly jittery. Finally, his name was called and he made his way to the floor after an encouraging smile from Alison. As he stepped onto the floor, the opening chords of 'In the End' by Linkin Park blared from the system. Alison wished she could be on the floor dancing. For a second, Oliver looked a bit confused but then he began to sway to the beat. As the music got louder and more intense, his moves got more complex until he had the audience gasping. He hadn't danced like this the DADA class. He was amazing! As the chorus began, he went into a series of spins and flips that Alison hadn't thought were possible. She could feel the crowd sway around her and she began to sway as well. She hadn't thought that Oliver was this good. He had the grace of an animal. When the song came to an end, the crowd burst into applause and whoops. The applause lasted well over three minutes. When it finally died down, and Oliver made his way back to Alison, she hugged him and said, 'You arsehole! You never told me you were that good!'

'Well, I went for classes when I was younger but I hated it. When I went out there, I figured, I might as well do some of the steps I learnt in the class. Did you like it?'

'Like it? It was brilliant!' chimed in Angelina, Alicia and Katie. Fred, George and Lee echoed their thoughts. Professor Agallant stepped onto the dance floor and said, 'Well, here are the results. The best male dancer in Gryffindor, a unanimous choice I would imagine, Oliver Wood!' The whole room burst into thundering applause. When the applause died down, Professor Agallant read out the rest of the list. Fred, George and Lee all featured in the top four.

            As they walked towards the Common Room from the Muggle Studies classroom, the girls told the boys of their plan to go to the dance club near Hogsmeade. The boys, all high on adrenaline, agreed wholeheartedly. The whole group was in a jovial mood when they reached the Great Hall. After a quick dinner, they made their way to the Common Room. The girls went to their dormitories and the boys went to theirs. Once in the dormitory, Alison pulled off her robes and threw open her trunk. She rummaged through the contents for a few seconds and then pulled out a pair of blue jeans that were slightly flared at the bottom and a sleeveless white turtleneck. From beneath her bed, she pulled out a pair of high-heeled black shoes. The other three girls gathered around her and admired the outfit. Alison headed for the bathroom and changed. When she came out, the other girls gasped in admiration and jealousy. Alison blushed and sat down in front of the mirror. As she put on her makeup, the other girls changed into their Muggle clothes. When they were all done, they sat around on the bed till it was about 11:30 and they were sure everyone else had gone to bed. At 11:30, there was a light knock on the door and when Alicia opened the door, she saw all four boys standing there wearing jeans. Alison was the last one out; she was just spraying some perfume on her wrists and neck. When Oliver saw her, his heart skipped a beat. The tight blue jeans showed off her long, slender legs and narrow waist. The white top offset her glowing coffee coloured skin. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. Oliver stood in the doorway, a pure white rose in his hand. Alison smiled when she saw the rose and coyly, she took it from Oliver. As she took it from him, her hand brushed against his and a slight tingle ran up her spine. She could smell the woody smell of his perfume and it intoxicated her, so much so, that she had to turn away to prevent herself from yielding to the temptation and kissing him, full on the lips. She slid past him and into the corridor when she realized that she had forgotten the Transporta Cube. She rushed back into the dorm to get it. After a few minutes of rummaging through her trunk, she managed to find it. She went back to the Common Room to find the rest of the group there, waiting impatiently for her. Each one touched the cube and in a clear voice, Alison said, 'Jungle Gym'. All of a sudden, they all felt a sudden jerk around the region of their navel and the next second they found themselves in a dark alleyway. Alicia, Angelina and Katie looked worried at the dingy surrounding, but Alison had a huge grin on her face and she walked purposefully towards the brick wall. The rest watched her, the confusion clear on their faces. As they watched, she neared the wall and then seemed to walk right through it. One second she was in front of the wall, the next second, she had vanished. Then Oliver realized that it was the same sort of wall that prevented Muggles from entering Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He walked towards it cautiously, followed by the others. Closing his eyes, he waked straight at it and instead of walking into the wall as he had expected, he found himself on the other side in a well-lit road filled with clubs, their neon lights flashing. Grinning, he joined Alison and soon, they were joined by the rest. Together, they made their way to the closest club. At the door, they were stopped by a large man who asked for some sort of identification to verify the fact that they were eighteen. Oliver's insides froze and he looked at Alison in alarm. But Alison had thought of this. And from her pocket, she pulled out 8 identification cards, one for each of them. The man snatched them from Alison and held them up against the light radiating from the sign as though to detect a forgery. But evidently, it passed the test, for he handed the Ids back to them without a word and allowed them to pass. Once inside, Alison could barely hear herself think. Loud music blared from speakers set up all around the disco. The disco lights flashed green, red, blue, pink and every other colour imaginable. The look of ecstasy on the their faces was priceless, Alison mentally kicked herself for not having brought a camera. The three couples headed straight for the dance floor, while Alison and Oliver made their way to the bar. Alison sat down on the hard stool and gestured for Oliver to do the same. In a voice that suggested that she'd done all of this before, she ordered herself a Bacardi Breezer. Oliver got over his surprise and ordered a rum and coke. As they waited for their drinks, Oliver leaned over to Alison and yelled, 'You look brilliant!' Alison smiled and said, 'you don't look half bad yourself, cowboy!' The two of them burst out laughing. Alison looked towards the dance floor where the rest seemed to be having a blast. She looked at Oliver and raised her eyebrows as if to say, 'Are we going to dance or what?'

Oliver grinned and said, 'Would you like to dance, Miss Adams?'

'Why, that would be smashing, darling' said Alison is a falsetto and a very proper English accent.

Oliver took her outstretched hand and led her to the dance floor. Once on the dance floor, they completely forgot everything else. All they thought of was the music. They danced to song after song, long after the others had gone to sit down and catch their breaths. Eventually, the DJ told a very disappointed crowd that he would have to go catch his breath, but assured them that he would be back in a half hour at the most. Flushed, Alison and Oliver made their way off the dance floor to where Angelina, Alicia and Katie were sitting with their respective boyfriends. As Alison sat down, she couldn't help but notice George's hand stroking Alicia's thigh and she felt a sudden pang to be caressed, to be held in someone's arms, to be touched. She glanced at Oliver out of the corner of her eye and he didn't seem to have noticed anything. As she studied his features, her desire to be held became stronger, no longer did she want to be held by just anyone, she wanted to be held by Oliver.

            Across the room, Alison's presence had not gone unnoticed. A group of boys had watched lustfully as she danced, and their jealous eyes followed Alison and Oliver to their table. One of them, who had jet black hair and emerald green eyes, said, 'Have you ever seen anything that fine?' The boy sitting next to him, running his hands through his blonde hair, said, 'I wouldn't be single I knew a specimen as fine as that.' The other boys looked at him in surprise. AJ never said things like that. He was the ultimate playboy, the perfect idol for any young boy who wanted to play the field and get away with it. He was the sort of guy who hated commitment, the kind who upped and left at even the slightest mention of a relationship. At that moment, the DJ came back, and six of the people sitting at the table got up and headed towards the dance floor along with the majority of the crowd in the dance club. The girl they had all been staring at stayed put as her partner rose and walked towards the bathroom. AJ smirked, a manic gleam in his sparkling eyes, as he rose from his seat and made his way towards her.

            Alison saw him coming and hoped that the look in his eyes was purely in her imagination. His pants hung low on his narrow hips and the look in his smoldering eyes was unmistakably one of lust. She looked around, willing Oliver to reappear from the bathrooms, but before she could get up, the boy was at her side. In a deep voice, he said, 'You wanna dance?'

'Umm…actually, I'm waiting for my boyfriend to get back from the bathroom and…'

'What your boyfriend doesn't know won't hurt him, now will it, honey?'

'Look, I don't want to dance with you, I'm sorry!'

The look on AJ's face was very similar to the one she had seen on Cedric's face so recently. It was a look of utter disbelief that a girl was turning him down.

But this expression lasted but a few seconds before it was replaced by a hard look that chilled Alison to the bone. He grabbed her wrist in an iron grasp and began to pull her towards the dance floor. Alison struggled to pull away from him but the more she struggled, the tighter his hold got. Suddenly, she felt another hand on her wrist and looked up to see Oliver, his face rigid with rage. He wrenched her hand from AJ's grip and pushed her behind himself, before turning to AJ and saying, 'Man, don't you ever lay a finger on her again, unless you want that finger as well as every other on both of your hands broken and shoved up your ass.' His every syllable trembled with rage and Alison watched him in surprise. Oliver had always struck her to be one of the most easy going people she knew. AJ's face went red and he said, 'I'll do what I want, when I want to, and anyone who tries to make do otherwise will pay, big time! So what makes you think you're an exception, you fuckin son of a b…' He never got to finish his question, as Oliver's fist landed square on his jaw and sent him reeling to the floor in a quivering heap. With that, Oliver held out his hand and Alison took it, and the two of them walked out of the dance club, hand in hand. They walked into the next building, which was a more somber, and a much posher place. They sat down at a table and ordered sodas. Breaking the awkward silence, Alison said, in a voice that suggested that she was very grateful, 'Thanks Oliver'.

'No problem…what are friends for?'

'I didn't think you could punch that hard'

'I didn't think I could either, but I guess I just saw red when I saw him pulling you to the dance floor.'

'Oh…well, thanks anyway'

At that point, Alicia walked into the pub followed by George and said, 'Oh, there you are, we were looking all over the place for you! Where the fuck did you two disappear?'

'We felt like talking alone for a bit, you know?'

'Oh, all right…we just figured that since its nearing three o'clock, we'd better be getting back to school.'

Astounded, Oliver looked at his watch, his face turning white at the time. 'Quidditch practice is still on for this morning, no excuses!'

Alison and Lee chuckled loudly as the rest groaned and grumbled. Alison pulled out her wallet to pay for their sodas but Oliver knocked her hand out of the way and paid instead. As they walked out of the pub, Alison said, 'You didn't have to pay, it wasn't like we were on a date, or anything, you know!'

'Yeah, but I'm a gentleman and gentlemen don't let their female friends or even their female best friend pay for the drinks!'

'You male chauvinist pig!'

'How am I a chauvinist?'

'Forget it! You wont understand!'

'True, I wont! Cuz I'm not a girl!' drawled Oliver in a falsetto.

When they reached the wall, Alison followed the others through it and once in the narrow alley, she pulled out the little cube. When everyone was touching it, she said, 'Hogwarts, Year 6 Gryffindor girls' dormitory'. A second later, they were all standing in the girls' dormitory. The boys left the dormitory yawning and the girls quickly changed and then jumped into bed. One by one, they all put off their lights and soon, the dormitory was silent with the exception of the regular breathing of its occupants. Outside the window, the moon shone on the lake, emphasizing its sparkling ripples and black depths.

            The next morning, Alison awoke to the sound of loud knocking on the dormitory door. Groaning, she thought, 'God damn it, Oliver, not everyone cares about Quidditch as much as you do!' But as she thought this, she felt a slight twinge in her chest and she knew she was lying to herself. She had told Oliver why she hated Quidditch now, but she had conveniently forgotten to tell him how much she had loved the game before that bastard raped her. She knew Oliver well enough to realize that he would make her get on a broomstick, something she had vowed never again to do. Her thoughts were jolted back to the present by the door slamming open and Oliver stomping in, trailing mud allover the dormitory. He had obviously been outside already. She rolled over in bed and jammed her pillow down over her ears to try and block out the sound of his voice. But even then, she could hear him pulling the bedcovers off the other three girls in the room. Finally, they were awake and he left the room. Five minutes later, her three roommates also left the room, half asleep, their hair in tangles, their faces barely washed. Alison drifted back into a peaceful slumber only to woken a half-hour later by a persistent Hermione. As Alison squinted her eyes to adjust them to the glare of the sun, she put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and told her to slow down and stop babbling. Hermione calmed down and said in as calm a voice as she could muster, 'Alicia fell off her broom, she's hurt her arm, she's in the hospital wing.' Alison jumped out of bed, pulled her clothes on as quickly as possible, ran a brush through her hair, before making her way down to the hospital wing as fast as she possibly could.

            When she got there, she found the rest of the team sitting with an ashen Alicia who was crying volumes, despite all of George's efforts to comfort her. Through her tears, she manages to say, 'Oh, god, Oliver, I'm so sorry, how are you going to play the match in two weeks with only two Chasers?' In a kindly tone, Oliver said, 'That is the least of my worries at this point in time; the most important thing is for your arm to get better. In the meantime, we can find a substitute to take your place. How long would it take for your arm to heal?'

'Madam Pomfrey said the bone would heal in a couple of days but the tendons, they're going to take at least seven to eight months…'

'But by then, the Quidditch season would be over, you won't be able to play in any matches at all this year? Damn, how are we going to find someone to replace you, who's good enough to take your place for the whole year?'

Alicia's eyes filled with tears and Oliver realized he had said precisely the wrong thing. Before he could even consider as to how to put the mistake right, Alison said, 'I know the perfect person, she's not half as good as you, Alicia, but she isn't the worst.'

'Who?' said Oliver in an incredulous voice, a sentiment echoed by the rest of them.

In a calm voice that showed no trace of arrogance or conceit, she said, 'Me'

            In the silence that followed, she could almost hear everyone's mind whirring as they struggled to figure out why she, of all people, would want to play Quidditch. Breaking the silence, George asked tentatively, 'But can you play Quidditch?'

'You'll see' said Alison in a voice that betrayed no emotion. Alicia's tense face relaxed and she leaned back on her pillow.

 For some reason, the fact that Alison had volunteered made her feel better although she, nor anyone else in Hogwarts for that matter, had ever seen Alison play Quidditch. Alicia's confidence in the South African was probably due to the fact that in her mind, there were precious few things that Alison could not do brilliantly. She reached for the glass of water beside her bed and raised it to her parched and dry lips. When she was done, she said, 'But Madam Pomfrey said that I would be able to try out for the dance competition this evening.' At this, Madam Pomfrey's sharp voice sliced through the crisp air in the hospital ward, saying, 'Now, Alicia, don't twist my words. I said, if, and only if you rest until the evening, I might consider letting you try out. So I suggest the rest of you scoot or Alicia wont be able to try out and it will be all your fault.' She then stalked off towards the next ward, throwing a dirty glance at Oliver who was dripping mud all over the floor. The whole team turned to leave. At the door, Alison realized George wasn't with them. She turned back just in time to see George kiss Alicia softly on her lips while running his hand through her hair. He looked up to see her watching and she grinned. George's ears went bright red and with his red hair, it looked like his head was on fire.

            When they got back to the Gryffindor Common Room, Alison went back up to the dorm to change. When she got there, she decided to have a nice, steamy bath. When she emerged from the bath, her skin glowing and little beads of water on her bare skin, the dorm was empty. Quickly, she pulled on her robes and was struggling to put on her tie when Oliver walked into the room. Alison looked up and said, 'God, Oliver, you could knock you know? I might have been changing!'

'Well, you're not, and you're taking an awfully long time to get ready so I decided to come up here to check that you were alright.'

'Aww, how sweet', said Alison before continuing her battle with her tie. Oliver grinned and walked over to her. He knocked her hand out of the way and said, 'Finally, something you don't know how to do.' Deftly, he knotted the tie and then looked up at her triumphantly. Alison shrugged her shoulders in a would be nonchalant gesture, as if to say, 'So what, I can do tons of things that you cant do!'

            As they walked down to Breakfast, Oliver said, 'Why did you tell me that you couldn't play Quidditch?'

'If I had told you, you would have made me get on a broom and play. I know you would have! And I wasn't ready for that then.'

'But now, you're ready?'

'Yeah, I am. I don't know why I should let something that bastard did ruin something that I really do love.'

'So you do love Quidditch?'

'Yeah, I do love Quidditch, Oliver!'

'Do you want to practice after your tryouts? Oh, wait a second, you don't have a broom, do you?'

'Actually, I do, its in my cupboard, I brought it just in case.'

'What make is it? Nimbus 2000? Clean sweep seven?'

'Firebolt' said Alison airily.

Oliver's mouth dropped open and he yelled, 'A FIREBOLT? AND YOU'VE KEPT IT IN YOUR CUPBOARD ALL THIS TIME? ARE YOU NUTS? THAT'S A CRIME!'

'Calm down, Oliver! It's no big deal! My dad sent it to me…' at the mention of her dad, her smile faltered for a second, but before Oliver got a chance to wonder if he had imagined it, it was back in place again. But there was no mistaking the sadness in her eyes and he vowed to find out the secret about her father. He knew her mother was dead but her father remained a mystery.

            At the breakfast table, Alison felt Cedric's eyes following her as she sat down and poured herself a glass of orange juice. Trying her best to ignore him, she smiled at Harry, who was sitting opposite her. He said, 'Are you really going to be Chaser in Alicia's place? Cuz, I thought you hated Quidditch!'

'Yes, I am going to try out for Chaser and no, I don't hate Quidditch; I just needed a bit of a break from it. So how's everything going?'

'Pretty good, oh yeah, you got a letter, its on the side of your plate.'

Alison thanked him for telling her before ripping open the envelope and extracting the letter. As she had expected, it was from her father and as she read, a small smile formed on her face.

'Hey, honey,' said the letter. 'How is everything going? How's Oliver? If he's good enough to turn your head, I really must meet him. Speaking of meetings, I'm in the vicinity today and I was hoping I could see you. All right, I'll be frank; the reason I'm in the vicinity is because I want to see you. Nothing urgent, though, just regular fatherly love. Did you read about Herschelle Gibbs getting suspended for smoking marijuana in his hotel room? That guy doesn't seem to learn; he has a regular wild streak. So what have you been up to? I sincerely hope you haven't been following all the rules, I hope you're doing me proud. What's that prck Snape doing these days? He was a real loser when we were in school. He used to follow me, James and Remus around all the time trying to get us into trouble or some such thing. I know I'm babbling along like a brook now, but I can't help it, I'm really bored. In fact, I'm so bored; I think I will go for the cricket match that's being played between South Africa and England now. Yes, I believe I will! Note how I keep stressing this plan of action. Are you jealous? I can just see your face, green with envy! Tut, tut, green is a very unbecoming colour!

Anyway, I must go now,

Love,

Dad

P.s. This time try and write back!'

            Alison set down the letter and reached into her bag for a quill. After a few minutes of rummaging, she found one and began to pen a reply.

'Hey Dad, you can bet your ass I'm jealous. And whoever said green was a very unbecoming colour obviously never saw me in green. Oliver's fine. At this point in time, he is stuffing his face with cornflakes, the pig. We're really close, maybe even closer than before. I'm not denying the fact that I am attracted to him, because I am! Very much so. But he's just so sweet, I'm not sure I want to endanger our friendship by going out with him. This morning he tied my tie for me because it was taking me forever to do.

            And guess who the new Chaser on the Quidditch team is? And no, it's not Oliver because Oliver is already on the Quidditch team; he's the captain and the keeper. And a bloody good one he is too! I'm the new Chaser on the team because Alicia's hurt her arm while practicing. I feel really sorry for her; she really does love the game. Not that I don't, but I could do without it, I'm not too sure about her, though!   

            Oh, there's also this dance competition that's going to take place on the night of the Halloween Ball, tryouts for the boys were yesterday, and Oliver was amazing, he was definitely the best dancer I have ever seen, and that's saying a lot where I come from.  And I'm not saying that just because I like him or because he's my best friend, if that's what you're thinking. The tryouts for the girls are this evening. Last night after the tryouts, we went to this dance club and I had so much fun. Now you know I'm not following all the rules, not by a long shot! I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

            Anyway, I must go now, its time for classes. I have Defense against the Dark Arts first, thank god! Professor Lupin makes the classes so much fun! He's really cool, dad and I can see why you two were so close. Though, I regret not being able to meet James, he must have been really cool too!

Love,

Alison

P.s. I'll meet you at 9:30 tonight, at the same spot as before. If you come early, you can watch me practicing Quidditch with Oliver. So come early, but stay out of sight, for obvious reasons!'

            She rolled up the bit of parchment and handed it to the owl that had been waiting patiently for her as she wrote the letter. The owl took it in his beak and with a flutter a wings, took off with it. Oliver looked at her curiously, wondering whom she had written such a long letter to. Pondering whether or not to ask her, he was suddenly interrupted by a voice that made his blood boil.

' Aww, how sad, ickle Alicia's hurt her arm, has she? Poor baby! And poor Oliver! Guess who doesn't have a Chaser anymore?'

'Why don't you just take your bullshit, Flint, and stuff it up your fuckin ass!! And just so that you don't go around making any more of a foolish faggot of yourself than you already are, we do have a chaser and a jolly good one too! So I have just one thing to say, Bugger off, you self indulgent son of a bitch!' Flint's face went from white to red and back to white as he floundered in a wave of emotions ranging from white-hot anger to deathly fear. His mouth opened and closed but no words came out. His overall expression struck Alison as hilarious and she burst into laughter. Flint's mouth hardened into a thin, straight line and his next words were spat out of his mouth contemptuously. 'You little bitch! You think you can just come in here, as perfect as you are and expect everyone to like you? Well, I don't, I think you're nothing but a little slt who's asking to get shgged and baby, if you keep askin, I'm gonna give it to you!'

            Alison's face turned white and her eyes blazed. She stood up and walked towards him, and with every step, her eyes flashed more angrily, the fire in them burning like a house in flames. She seemed to grow taller in Flint's eyes and her eyes more fiery as she got closer to him. Before he knew it she was standing so close to him that their noses were almost touching. In a soft voice that chilled him to the bone, she said, 'either you're stupid and you're asking to get your tiny little arse kicked so hard that you crawl on the floor begging for mercy, or you're just plain dumb. Didn't your mom ever tell you not to swear at a woman? Oh, hold on, I forgot, your mother was too busy shgging you to teach you any of the things that a mother should teach a son. But I'll bet she taught you a lot of things that she taught your dad. Or was it the postman? I can't remember.' All of this was delivered in a whisper but everyone at the Gryffindor table could hear it, so deathly was the silence that enveloped the table. At Alison's words, the Gryffindors began to snigger, but stopped as Alison continued her tirade. 'You have no right in hell to call me a slt when your mother was one herself. So don't you ever call me that again.' With that she turned and began to push her way through the crowd that had formed around the two of them. Flint's next words made her freeze. Loudly, and in a sneering voice, he said, 'Btch! Whor…' before he could finish, he felt someone punch him in the stomach with the force of a small sledgehammer at the same time as someone slapped him hard across the face, with a noise that sounded like a gun shot. The combined effect of both sent him spiraling to ground in a daze. Alison looked at Oliver, her gratitude towards him shining in her eyes. Oliver nodded slightly and guided her through the crowd in the Hall and out into the Entrance Hall. As they walked towards their next class, Alison said, 'I want to thank you for punching him in the stomach'. Oliver replied, 'that wasn't a half bad slap either. My head's still ringing from the sound.' He looked at her, tenderness in his eyes and slowly, he opened his arms. Alison tentatively stepped towards him and hugged him tightly as his arms encircled her body. They stayed locked in that embrace for what seemed like ages. In his arms, Alison felt completely protected and all she could think of was Oliver and his strong muscular arms massaging the knots out of her tense back.

            When they got to Defense Against Dark Arts class, Professor Lupin wasn't in the room. In his place stood a scowling greasy haired Snape, a vindictive look in his eyes. As they walked to their seats, he barked, 'you're late! You're always late! If you're late to even one more of my classes, I will personally see to it that 100 points are taken off Gryffindor.'

Alison looked around the empty class pointedly, before saying, 'Firstly, there isn't a single living soul in this room apart from the three of us. So we can't possibly be late, now can we? And more importantly, this isn't even your class! Where's professor Lupin?'

Snape smirked cruelly and said, in a voice as smooth as silk, '20 points from Gryffindor for unnecessary insolence from a bigheaded sixth year. And what are you smirking at, Wood? A further ten points from Gryffindor.' The unfairness struck Alison in the face and she felt that familiar hot rage begin to bubble up within her again. She opened her mouth to protest but before she could say a word, she felt Oliver's hand on her arm, and her anger drained almost instantly. Without a word, she followed Oliver to their table at the back of the classroom. She collapsed into her chair and glared at Snape's turned back. Oliver almost grinned at the scowl on her face but he managed to keep his face straight. In a low voice that barely disguised her annoyance at Snape, she said, 'What the Fck is wrong with that man? He's seriously got some sort of horn up his arse. He is so damn biased against the Slytherins. I'll bet Professor McGonagall isn't half as biased.'

Oliver looked confused and then realization dawned on his face. He replied, 'That's right, you haven't had a class with McGonagall yet. She's really strict. When I was in fifth year, she took 150 points off Gryffindor. We nearly lost the championship!'

'Whoa! That doesn't sound very nice…hopefully she won't completely hate me!'

'Why would she? All the other teachers love you, well most of them any way. And besides, you're probably just as good at Transfiguration as you are at just about everything else. Speaking of which, do we have Muggle studies after lunch?'

'Yeah, do you have your shorts?'

'Yeah…'

'…but?'

'I really do look awful in shorts!'

'Oh, for god's sake Oliver! You sound like a girl sniveling about her fat thighs! People like that really do irritate me! Especially as they're usually the ones who've gone and had plastic surgery done or breast implants or something.'

'And that's another thing I really don't understand about girls, why they get breast implants. I mean, its not like every single guy on earth is a testosterone driven sex addict.'

Alison chuckled to herself and considered giving him the 'boobs on a stick' lecture again, but restrained herself. Instead she said, 'It's probably because of this image that all teen magazines promote that the sexier the girl is, the more popular she will be with the girls. And to tell you the truth, that was certainly the truth in my old school. It's really sad because if something were to go wrong, they'd be scarred for life. '

'I thought you were gonna give me the boobs on a stick lecture again. Thank god you didn't.'

At that moment, the rest of the class filed in and Alison was most indignant at the lack of vindictiveness on the part of Professor Snape about their lateness. She glared at him, before pulling her books out of her book. Snape barked out a few questions as to what the class had been doing and when he got no response, he barked a bit more before throwing his book open on a random page and commanding that all the questions on page 235 to be done and handed in at the end of the lesson. Alison scanned the page and saw to her relief that all the questions were on the unforgivable curses, the less serious curses and how they could be fought. Dipping her quill in the ink, she began to write rapidly. Beside her, Oliver began to do the same. They worked in silence for close to thirty minutes before both of them put down their quills within five minutes of each other. Alison stretched her fingers and massaged her stiff neck. She looked at her watch, which showed that she had only five minutes to go before the bell.  She closed her eyes and smiled at the thought of seeing her father again that night. Oliver noticed the smile and prodded her in the side. Annoyed, Alison said, 'What?'

'What are you smiling about?'

'Nothing…isn't a girl allowed to smile?'

'What, were you having a fantasy or something?'

This was so close to the truth, Alison was shocked; she had been imagining what it would be like to stay with her father. She shrugged her shoulders dismissively and went back to her fantasy. Oliver watched her hair cascade onto her shoulders with all the grace of a waterfall. He longed to touch her hair, to kiss her softly, to feel her skin press against his. His heart ached to run his fingers down the sides of her face. His thoughts were interrupted by the bell ringing. Alison jumped, a startled look on her face. She looked around, a slightly dazed look on her face, before she pulled herself together. She picked up her parchment and her bag before following Oliver out of the classroom. On the way out, they handed their parchments to Professor Snape. Then they headed for the Transfiguration classroom.     

            As she walked into the classroom, she became aware of the fact that it consisted of seventh years of all four houses, including the person she hated the most in the world, Marcus Flint. When she asked why this was, Oliver said, 'Oh, it's because Transfiguration's so hard and very few seventh years from each house get good enough grades to take it. So they put us all together cuz otherwise it would be a waste of time for Professor McGonagall.' Alison nodded in understanding and they headed for the only vacant desk in the classroom. And it was no surprise to Alison that it was vacant, it was right in front of Marcus Flint's desk. As Alison sat down, she heard him snigger and her blood began to boil. First Potions, now this! Beside Flint sat Palter, one of his cronies. From the laughter she could hear behind her, it was obvious that Flint had commented on something causing Palter to crack up. Just then, Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom and she said, 'Welcome to year seven. I hope you realize that this year is going to be nowhere as easy as last year. And if you found last year difficult, I suggest you transfer to some other class, perhaps a woolier subject along the lines of Divination. Now, we're not going to waste time, we're going to start off right away. Get yourselves hedgehogs from the cage in the corner. By the end of this class, I want to see completely inanimate pincushions lying meekly on the desk. And Palter, if your pincushion tries to spear me with one of its needles like it did last year, I will personally see to it that you are put in detention. As for you, Miss Adams, I would like a word with you. If you could come up to my desk for a few minutes please.'

Puzzled, Alison walked to the teacher's desk and sat down on the chair beside it. Professor McGonagall peered at her through her glasses and said, 'I hope you realize that this course is not going to be a piece of cake, by any standards, Miss Adams. Despite your highly impressive grades at Transfiguration in your previous school, you will find that this course might just challenge you. It has certainly challenged some of the smartest students to pass through these halls. I expect a high standard of work from you, and if at any moment in time, I find that you are slacking off, I will come down hard on you, harder than I would come down on a lot of other people, because you have the potential to be brilliant. And my name's not Minerva McGonagall if I let that talent and potential go to waste. At the same time, I do not wish for you to be afraid of me, I know I am reputed for having a severe tongue and a short temper, but if you are your father's daughter, you will find a way a round that. Sirius Black was one of my most talented students. It's a pity that a misunderstanding has ruined his life.'

Alison's face went white. In a whisper she said, 'You know who my father is? 

Professor McGonagall gave her one of her rare smiles and said, 'Well, he loved your mother very much and you look just like her, except for your eyes, they're exactly like your dad's. And your dad, as I said before, was possibly one of the best students I have ever had the good fortune of teaching. When I confronted Professor Dumbledore, he told me that what I suspected was indeed true, that you were indeed, the daughter of Sirius Black.

            When Alison got back to her seat beside Oliver, his hedgehog was almost totally converted to a pincushion. Alison placed her own hedgehog on the table and set to work. Within five minutes, it had been transfigured into a perfectly inanimate pincushion. Oliver glared at her and said, 'You are such a fuckin bitch, I've been sitting here for what seems like an eternity trying to transfigure this thing, and you come along and you do it in barely five minutes.' Oliver let out a sound of great exasperation that sent Alison into spasms of laughter.    

As he watched her laugh, he felt his exasperation melt away and be replaced by a feeling of despair that she would never ever be his. Alison noticed him watching her, and she looked him straight in the eye, and said, 'What are you thinking about, Oliver?' Oliver groaned inwardly and thought to himself, *I'm thinking how gorgeous you are, I'm thinking how amazingly perfect you are, I'm wondering if you will ever be mine! * But out aloud he said, 'I'm thinking about Quidditch', before going back to work. Alison's heart sank, she had been hoping for something completely different. And for that second before he answered, Alison could have sworn that he felt the same way about her that she felt about him. But before she could study that expression, it was gone, just like that, in the twinkling of an eyelash.

            Behind them, Flint glared at Alison's back, his mind working furiously as to how to hurt her, and hurt her badly, so badly that she would bear the mental scar long after the physical wound he had inflicted had healed. But even though he hated her, he could not help but lust for her. But then, he doubted that any guy who was not gay would not lust after her, however secretly. *Not even Woodie woodpecker* thought Flint bitterly. He didn't love her, but he could not help but feel his hormones stirring as she walked, swaying her narrow hips gracefully. And then it struck him, the perfect way to hurt her, to scar her for life.

            When the bell rang a few minutes later, Alison grabbed her bag and was one of the first ones out of the class. Rushing after her, Oliver panted, 'What the hell is the big hurry for?'

'I haven't played a Muggle sport in so long! I can't wait!'

Together, they headed for the Muggle Studies classroom. When they got there, Professor Agallant was waiting for them wearing shorts and Alison felt a little jerk somewhere in the region of her naval when she saw the toned muscles in his legs. She saw Oliver smirking out of the corner of her eye and she turned her head away. But she knew that she would never hear the end of staring at his legs. She groaned to herself. Just then, she felt someone's hand brush against her neck. Startled, she looked up, only to see Oliver holding up a strand of her hair. He said, 'I think your hair might not like English weather.' Alison scowled at him and turned back to Professor Agallant who had been watching the whole charade with amusement. He said, 'Why don't you two go and change in the changing rooms, the Quidditch changing rooms, just in case either of you think I mean any others that you might know of.' Oliver and Alison chuckled as they walked out. On their way out, they met Angelina and Alicia hurrying up the stairs. When they heard that they were meant to go to the Quidditch Changing rooms, they refused point blank to go all the way up the stairs to the Muggle Studies classroom to be told exactly the same thing. So instead, they followed Oliver and Alison down the stairs to the Quidditch changing rooms. Oliver pulled out his keys to the Changing Rooms and unlocked the doors. Then he strolled in nonchalantly tossing the keys on a chair beside the door that seemed reserved specifically for that purpose. Angelina and Alicia followed him in and headed straight for what Alison assumed to be the girl's changing rooms. Alison walked into the spotless changing rooms, with gleaming walls and a row of about ten huge lockers, which looked large enough to house all of Alison's possessions at Hogwarts. Oliver looked at her and said, 'well? Aren't you going to change?'

'Where's the girl's changing rooms?'

'Well, hmmm, let me think about that one. We just saw Angelina and Alicia walk into the door over there, but that obviously can't be the girls' changing room, cuz they're not girls, right? They're bisexual or something, aren't they? You tell me, you know better!'

Alison punched him hard on the shoulder before stalking off to the changing room, the girls' changing room. Alicia and Angelina were just tying up there hair when Alison entered. Quickly Alison pulled on her shorts under her robes and then pulled her robes off. Alicia and Angelina glanced at her and then looked at each other. Slightly alarmed, Alison asked, 'What the hell is that look supposed to mean?' Angelina said, 'don't worry, we're not lesbians, it's just that Katie, Alicia and I were discussing how you are the perfect woman and then we realized that you might still have a flaw as we hadn't seen your ummm… your figure. But now, that we've seen that, we're convinced that it is totally unfair for you to be so damn perfect. I mean…'

'Oh, for god's sake, I am not perfect! Far from it! I…'

'Oh, yeah? Name one thing that you can't do' challenged Alicia.

'I can't tie a tie, I can't play golf, and…and….and tons of other stuff'

'Two things barely qualifies as tons of stuff! I mean, you're smart, and you're sexy and you're an amazing dancer, the best I've ever seen and you're probably good at sports as well! It is just so unfair!'

'At this point, all the other girls in the class trooped into the changing room. Alison hurriedly pulled on her sleeveless white shirt before joining Alicia and Angelina in front of the mirror. Effortlessly, she swept her hair up in a ponytail, which she deftly secured in place with a black scrunchie. Then she leaned against the cold tiles wall and waited for the other two to 'do' their hair. When they were finally done (after Alicia had tried at least a dozen different hair styles), the three girls left the changing room for the Quidditch field. Once outside, she saw something that made her heart skip with joy, she saw Tennis nets! When the other two saw the smile on her face, they knew that this was certainly not one of the 'tons of things' that Alison couldn't do well. When they got to the net, they saw that they had been anchored down properly. Well, Alison saw that they were anchored down properly. Alicia and Angelina probably wouldn't have been surprised had it been held down by a snarling Hippogriff. Professor Agallant was standing near a rack of tennis rackets and Alison was astonished to see that they were all shiny and clean as if they were new. Alison walked over to the rack and examined a few different rackets until she found one that she liked. She picked it up and did a few practice swings, All this while, the two other girls were watching her, a mixture of puzzlement and irritation on their faces. Professor Agallant, however, seemed more that a little happy. He said, 'So, you've played tennis before, have you, Alison?'

'Yeah, I played a lot of tennis in Durban. We had this really good court right next to our school and if you went there at night, there was never anyone around.'

'You were allowed off the school premises at night?'

'What the school doesn't know, can't hurt it,' said Alison with a sly smile.

Professor Agallant laughed heartily, and said, 'well, Ms Adams, let's see how good you are. Come on, now!'

'Is that a challenge, fair sir?'

'It is indeed, m'lady…unless you wish to decline, because you're too…chicken?'

'En guard, Monsieur Agallant!' yelled Alison, brandishing her racket like a sword.  Professor Agallant drew a few balls from his pocket and walked towards the nearest court. Alison followed him while the rest of the girls (the boys weren't there yet) watched in astonishment and bemusement. The professor tossed a couple of balls toward Alison which she caught deftly in the hand that wasn't holding the racket. 'Do you want to play with serves or just warm up first?' asked Professor A, to which Alison replied that she would like to warm up first. So professor Agallant hit a ball across the net at her, which Alison returned with a perfect forehand shot which skimmed over the top of the net and right into the corner of the court, causing professor A to run all the way to the net, to salvage the volley as well as his pride. Miraculously, he managed to get a racket to it, but only succeeded in lobbing the ball up high into the air. Alison's face screwed up with concentration as she smashed the ball right to the back of the court at an impossible angle. Professor Agallant looked at her, astonishment written all over his face. Alison said, 'do you want to serve, or should I?'

'You serve, I want to see you serve, because if you have as brilliant a service as you do ground strokes, you're a waste of talent in this school, you ought to be playing professionally.'

Alison smiled and as she walked to the baseline, she noticed the boys trooping out of the changing rooms and making their way to the nets. Turning back to the professor, she threw the ball up in the air and then smashed it into the other side for a perfect serve, fast, and more importantly deadly accurate. Before Professor Agallant so much as moved two steps, the ball had whizzed past him. He looked at her, and shook his head in wonder. He said, 'did you even play in tournaments and things like that?'

'I've played in a few, not too many though!'

Professor Agallant shook his head again, before turning towards the rest of the close as if noticing them there for the first time. Sheepishly, he said, 'well, let that be a lesson to all you boys, the best professional tennis player may never be a woman, but as long as you're not a professional, they'll sure as hell be better than you!' The whole class burst out laughing at this very 'profound' and sincerely heartfelt statement from the Professor. When the laughter died down, he continued, 'ok, I want everyone to grab a racket that they feel comfortable with. By comfortable, I mean the right grip size, the right weight, you know, that sort of thing. Then, I want you all to team up with a partner. Once you have carried out those instructions, you will stand at attention until I issue further commands.' Alison said in a loud stage whisper, 'I think he's trying to make up for the masculinity he lost when he played me by being all sergeant-majorish.' The class burst into laughter at this and Professor Agallant just barely managed to keep from laughing out loud.

            Oliver grabbed Alison's hand and said, 'you're with me, ok?'

'Oh really, and who exactly are you?'

'Shut up and be serious!'

'Of course I'm with you, Oliver. We are kind of best friends. That generally means that we work together, where I come from anyway! I'm not too sure about you though, do they think the same way on Mars?'

'BTCH!'

'Oh, no! That really wounded me mortally, Oliver and I shall bear the scar of that remark for the rest of my life!'

Oliver smacked her lightly on the head, only to receive an even harder slap on his arm. Trying to keep from wincing, he pointed to the tennis court and said, 'what's with all the white lines? Are we not meant to touch them, or something?'

Alison looked at him like he had come from planet Strange and said, 'I suggest you learn how to hit the ball first, before you even try to learn the rules…they might be a little complicated for your poor Quidditch brain!'

'Hey!! Quidditch needs an awful lot of talent and intellect, unlike all these stupid Muggle sports.'

'Oh, yeah, sure it does! Hmmm, let's see, I have to catch the big red ball, or is it the big black ball or both?', mimicked Alison in an uncanny impression of someone who had been whacked on the head, one too many times by a runaway bludger.

            They made their way to the nearest court and Alison threw a couple of tennis balls at Oliver. His eyes widened as he saw the fluorescent green orbs flying towards his head, and his 'keeper' instincts kicked in. without thinking, he dropped his racket to the ground and caught the two balls, one in each hand. He looked around to see everyone staring at him. Alison beckoned him towards the net and then leaned over it to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. 'Oliver,' she said, 'one does not generally drop the racket and catch the balls in different hands, one catches them in one hand, while at the same time, keeping hold on the racket.' He scowled at her and said, 'well, I'm sorry I'm not exactly Miss 'Tennis Player of the Year''.

Alison giggled before turning to walk back to the baseline. Oliver sighed and he muttered, 'Oh lord, please don't let me make a fool of myself…' he trailed off, but a voice inside his head continued, 'especially not in front of Alison'. He shook his head and walked back to the baseline. When he turned around, he saw Alison standing on the other side of the court, hands on her hips, waiting impatiently for him to make his way back to the baseline. Then, while bouncing the ball a couple of times, she said, 'Ok, Oliver, just hit the ball, nice and easy with a flowing motion, and don't stop your stroke. Carry it through until its about the height of your shoulder.' Oliver nodded and Alison hit the ball smoothly over the net as though she had been doing it all her life, which, as Oliver realized, she probably had. As he watched the ball sailing towards him, Oliver felt his mouth go dry and he swallowed hard. His eyes narrowed and he swung the racket, and miraculously, he hit the ball. Hard. And it flew back to Alison. Shocked, she stopped the rally and said, 'I thought you said you've never played before'

'I haven't'

'Well, that was a perfect forehand. It doesn't get better than that. I am so jealous. It took me two weeks to learn how to hit a forehand, but you just played a shot that most people couldn't play after years of training. Do it again.'

Oliver, who was charging up for a good brag, felt his bubble burst, as he realized that the shot had probably only been beginner's luck, and that he would have to do it again if he ever wanted to be able to brag. As he watched the ball skim over the net,     faster and more cleanly than before, his legs tensed and he watched the ball onto his racket before hitting it back into Alison's court cleanly. Alison's mouth dropped open and that told Oliver that his shot had been as good as the previous one, if not better. Professor Agallant rushed over to Oliver with a big grin on his face. 'Was that the first time you've ever played, Wood?'

'Yeah…'

'Well, that was brilliant! Not quite as good as Miss Adams, of course, but still brilliant! With a bit of training, you might actually be a challenge to her!'

'Hello? I am here! Will you stop talking about me like I'm invisible?' growled Alison.

'Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Adams! Now, I'll let you get back to your game'

Over the next hour, Alison taught Oliver the backhand, the volley and the serve. Much to her amazement and slight annoyance, he picked all of these up as fast as he had picked up the forehand. When Professor Agallant finally called time, Oliver had learnt enough to play an actual game. Before they headed towards the changing rooms to change back into their robes, Professor Agallant said, 'well, the tryouts for the girls is today, and I want to see all of you there today. No exceptions. And next class, we'll be doing tennis again, so don't forget your shorts. Alright, now go change!'

As they made their way towards the changing rooms, Alison wiped the beads of sweat from her forehand and wiped it on her shirt. She turned to talk to Alicia and Angelina on the other side and Oliver couldn't help but admire her toned arms as they glistened with perspiration. He wrenched his eyes away and shook his head. Firmly, he told himself that he would never endanger their friendship by admitting his true feelings to her. For now, he knew there was no point trying to ignore his feelings and pretend that they didn't exist. Every time, he looked at her, he wanted to hold her in his arms, to stroke her hair, to kiss her lips. But he knew that these thoughts were a sin, they were blasphemous to their friendship. But however much he tried; he couldn't keep from thinking them. His thoughts were interrupted by Alison's hand waving in front of his face. From the puzzled look on her face, she had obviously been trying to get his attention for a while now. smiling sheepishly, he said, 'sorry, I was thinking about something. What do you want?'

'I was wondering if we're still on for tonight?'

'Tonight?'

Oliver's mind whirled? Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Did they have a…a date?

'YES, TONIGHT! THE QUIDDITCH! YOU WANTED TO SEE IF I WAS ANY GOOD! REMEMBER?', yelled Alison.

'Oh, right! Yeah, it's still on.' By then they had reached the changing rooms, and Alison, looked at Oliver before entering the girls' changing room. 'Are you sure you're all right, Oliver? You've been acting a bit weird lately.'

'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I was…I was just thinking about some Quidditch tactics.' With that, he walked into the boys' changing room. Alison watched the door swing shut behind him before walking into the girls' changing room.

When she walked in, it was like walking into a steam room. She could barely see an inch in front of her. Cautiously, she walked towards what she hoped was the row of shower cubicles. Sure enough, as she got nearer, she could hear the sound of running water. Squinting, she could make out shapes in all but one of the cubicles. The last cubicle near the end of the row didn't seem to house any inhabitants. Just in case, she knocked on the door before pushing it open. After hanging her towel outside, she stepped into the cubicle, pulled off her clothes, and tossed them over the top of the door, so that they hung there like some sort of surreal washing line on a foggy day. She turned on the water and allowed it to flow down her back, washing away the grime. She rubbed the soap over her body and then lathered some shampoo into her hair. Despite the availability of millions of magical shampoos, she still preferred her Muggle shampoos. They reminded her of her mother. Ever since she could remember, her mother had tried to convince her that while magic could make your life so much easier, there were two things where the ordinary, old fashioned Muggle way of life was so much better: shampoo and love. Alison had always loved it when her mother had told her how her father and her had met at Hogwarts. The story was like a fairytale, he saw her, she saw him, and they fell in love at first sight. He proposed to her on a moonlit night, the stars twinkling above them like the approving eyes of all the people who had died and gone to heaven. Alison sighed. Thinking about her mother always made her feel so alone. Quickly, she washed the shampoo out of her hair and turned off the water. She grabbed for her towel and began to towel herself off vigorously.                                                                                                               

When she stepped out, she found that most of the steam had cleared away and most of the girls were changing back into their robes. Alison began to do the same, and then joined Alicia and Angelina in front of the mirror. She pulled her wand out of her bag and pointing it at her hair, she muttered a few words under her breath. Instantly, her hair was dry. Caroline Becker, the girl standing on the other side of her said, 'gosh, that's certainly a handy charm. I'm Caroline, by the way. No need for you to introduce yourself, though. Pretty much everyone in Gryffindor, and all the other houses, for that matter, knows who you are.'

'Umm…they do?'

'Yeah, I mean, you're only the girl that all our boyfriends think is so hot. It's part of our defensive instincts to know who our boyfriends might fancy more than us. But, you're not quite what like I thought you might be. I mean, I thought you'd be totally self absorbed and stuck up. I know I would if I looked even half as good as you'

'Oh, god, not again!'

'She had to listen to us grumble about how perfect she is earlier' explained Angelina to Caroline. 'I think she might be a little sick of it'

'You think? I mean, don't you think you guys are going a little overboard with all the compliments?' said Alison in voice that did nothing to mask her irritation. The other girls started laughing at the irritation on her face. They thought it was absolutely hilarious that Alison thought they were going overboard with their 'compliments'. They all knew that she was the most perfect girl they had ever seen. And although they all accepted this, on the inside, each and every one of them burned with jealousy, a jealousy so bitter, and yet so harmless. For hand in hand with this jealousy burned a respect, and the power of that respect soothed the cold green flames of jealousy.

*****

Oliver stepped into the changing room, and inattentive to the clouds of steam billowing from the shower cubicles, he headed for one that was empty. He slung his towel over the top of the door and then looked around to check that there was soap. He spotted the tiny sliver of white soap in the corner and sighed. No one seemed to understand the concept of replacing soap when it was almost finished. It was no wonder girls considered them savages. He pulled off his grimy shirt and then his shorts. His skin glistened with sweat and a sudden gust of wind made him shiver. Quickly he turned on the water and a jet of hot water scalded his skin. He twisted the knob so that the shower didn't take his skin right off and then stepped back under it. As he washed himself, he thanked his stars that he hadn't said anything stupid earlier. When Alison had asked his if they were on for that night, for a tiny second, he had let himself peek into a room where it would not be so insanely immoral for him to ask her out. But before he could even look around this room, the door was slammed in his face and the key turned. Any ray of hope was lost. As their friendship grew stronger, the chasm that would separate them should they become lovers widened and became more menacing.

Five minutes later, he had showered and changed. He stuffed his clothes into his bag and then stepped out of the changing room to wait for Alison. For although he had decided for what seemed like the hundredth time that he would try not to imagine Alison lying in his arms, he was still her best friend. When Alison finally walked out fifteen minutes later, Oliver smiled and said, 'tennis wasn't so hard. I don't know why people make such a big deal of it! I mean, I'm almost as good as you and this was my first time.' When he saw Alison's face darken, he stopped and mumbled his apology. At once, Alison's face brightened and she said, 'hey, forget it, Oliver! But damn, you WERE good!'

When they entered the Great Hall, Katie, George, Fred and Lee were already there. When Alison slipped into the seat next to Oliver, she saw Harry staring at her out of the corner of her eye. She looked up and saw that he was wearing a slightly strange expression on his face, rather like a strangled rooster. Then she noticed that Ron and Hermione had the same expression. Worried, she put her hand to her face to check that there wasn't anything gruesome crawling over her skin. When she found nothing, she checked her hair, and when she still couldn't find anything, she looked right at Harry and mouthed, 'WHAT?'

Harry's eyes widened and he looked down at his untouched plate of mashed potatoes. A few seconds later, he glanced at Alison again, only to find her eyes boring into the back of his neck. He sighed and whispered something to Ron who in turn whispered this little anecdote to Hermione. Hermione shook her head vehemently but Harry's mind seemed made up. He beckoned for her to follow her out of the Hall and as she got up, Oliver caught her hand and said, 'where are you going now? You haven't eaten any lunch at all!'

'Something's eating Harry, and I think maybe he wants to talk to me about it. I'll be back in a few minutes.' With that, she followed Harry out of the Great Hall. Together, they walked into the grounds and Harry headed for the lake. Alison felt a sudden foreboding and her muscles tensed up. Harry stopped at the edge of the lake and looked out over the calm blue surface. He took a deep breath and then said, 'I know who you are, Alison. And I don't know how I didn't recognize those eyes before.'

'How… what…you know who I am? How?'

'Ron, Hermione and I went to visit Sirius…your dad and…'

'And? And what, Harry?'

Harry took another deep breath and then said, 'well, we were in his cave, which is where he lives when he's in this part of the world. He had gone out to try and scrounge around for a newspaper because we had forgotten to bring him one. We were just sitting around when I found a photograph on the floor, a photograph of a woman who looked remarkably like you. We were staring at the picture, trying to make sense of what we were seeing, when Sirius walked in. We didn't notice that he had returned. He walked over to us and looked over my shoulder at the photograph. When I felt his breath on my neck, I turned around and I saw him standing there. But he wasn't angry, not even a little. He said, 'that's my wife, Stephanie. She died when my daughter was two and a half years old, right after I was convicted and put in Azkaban.' And he smiled as he saw the realization dawn on our faces, that you were his daughter. I thought I knew him but today I realized, how little I actually know about him. I mean, he has a daughter, and I didn't even know he was married.'

'He didn't marry my mother. They were going to get married after I was born, but after I was born, they had a fight, and I guess, they just decided it wasn't such a good idea after all.'

'God, I thought I had lost a lot, my parents dieing and all, but you lost just as much as me…'

'How's that?'

'Well, it's true that both my parents are died, but they died in dignity, and they're respected by every witch and wizard of this age, and probably for centuries to come. But Sirius, he…everyone hates him. Ron's brother Percy absolutely hates him cuz he got away from the Ministry of Magic. The whole wizarding world blames him for the murder of those twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew. And I don't think anyone will ever be able to clear him of that. And yet, he was as much in the right as my parents. I think it's worse to have your father alive and hated, than dead and respected. '

Alison found her eyes filling with tears as she listened to Harry. In those few minutes, he grew in her eyes from the small boy she had perceived him to be to a grown man, a man she could respect. In retrospect, Alison thought, 'Jesus, if his father was half the man he was, then I can tell why my father loved and respected James Potter as much as he did. I can see why they were best friends.'

Harry looked up to see Alison's eyes filling with tears, and the alarm that he felt at having made her cry must have shown on his face for Alison walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. A little startled, Harry patted her consolingly on the top of her head. It was a measure of how much he had grown that he could actually reach the top of her head as she stood at an impressive five foot eight inches. A few seconds later, Alison pulled away from Harry and said, 'so, are you going to see him tonight?'

'Heck, no, I wouldn't want to interfere with your time together. He really loves you. After we found the picture, all he could talk about was you.'

'Really? What did he say?' asked Alison with a slight grin.

'Nothing juicy. Nothing about how bad you were in your old school', said Harry, his emerald green eyes twinkling with sudden mischief. 'Oh, but he did want to know what Oliver was like…he said you were always talking about him.' At this, Harry gave her a knowing smile and Alison blushed and looked down at the ground. Harry said, 'Don't worry, I told Sirius that he was well worth your hand.'

'Shit, you stupid fuck! I can't believe you said that!'

'Hey, it seemed to me that he knew what you felt about Oliver, so I just decided to give him my honest, not to mention completely unbiased opinion.'

Alison thought that this thing had gone way too far and she said in a would-be innocent voice, 'of course dad knows that Oliver's my best friend. I mean, he is my dad!'

'Don't worry! I wont tell Oliver…or Ron, or Hermione, if you don't want me to.'

'You'd better not, or I might just decide to let slip to a certain Chinese girl in Ravenclaw how you feel about her.'

It was now Harry's turn to feign innocence. 'Chinese girl? What Chinese girl? I don't know any Chinese girl, especially not one in Ravenclaw.'

'Oh, really? Then I suppose the name Cho doesn't ring any bells!'

'I don't…oh, fuck it! How did you know?'

'Hey, I would've thought it was pretty obvious. I mean, you only stare at her every time she walks into the Hall!'

'I don't! I might look up once in a while and by some coincidence, I might look up at the precise moment when she walks in!'

'Yeah, whatever, Harry!'

Harry began to blush furiously and unfortunately for him, he, unlike Alison, didn't have the advantage of dark skin to hide the flush in his cheeks.

'So, you keep my secret, and I'll keep yours, scar boy!'

'Deal!', said Harry, in relief. 'Alison, if your dad is my godfather and my dad is…was you godfather, then aren't we kind of like god siblings?'

'I'm not too sure that there is such a thing, but if you want, we could be god siblings! You know, I think, it might be fun, I always wanted a brother.'

'I always wanted an elder sister'

'Why?'

'Cuz now you can introduce me to all your hot friends and set me up with them!'

Alison burst out laughing and put her arm around him. Still laughing, they walked up to the Castle and into the Great Hall. Alison slid into her seat beside Oliver and Harry into his seat between Ron and Hermione. Oliver looked at Alison and then said, 'What the hell was that about?' Alison winked at Harry before saying, 'Sorry, Oliver, confidential business. Harry needed some help with a girl'

'Oh, he did, did he?' said Oliver. At this point George interrupted and said, 'so, who's the lucky girl, Potter? Anyone we know?'

'Is it Parvati? Or is it Lavender' queried Fred in an inquisitive tone. Worried that Harry might forget his end of the bargain in the wake of all this mockery, Alison jumped in and said, 'Oh, for god's sake, can't a guy have a crush on a girl without the rest of you trying to find out who it is? Honestly!' Then, staring pointedly at George and Alicia, she continued, 'I mean, did Harry ask you how you got that hickey, Alicia? Or who gave it to you, for that matter? No, he didn't! So I suggest that all of you keep your mouths shut and let Harry fantasize in peace!' All the rest burst out laughing at this very indignant Alison, but Oliver couldn't help but think that there was something that his best friend was not quite being straight with him about. Little did he know!

*****

After a trying Potions class when just about everything seemed to go wrong for Alison, she headed for the Gryffindor Common room to change for the dance try outs. That Potions lesson had to have been the worst ever. First, the labels on Alison's ingredients were mysteriously switched, though according to Oliver, Marcus Flint had been looking particularly pleased with himself when Professor Snape used Alison's potion as an example of what not to do. Then, the contents of her cauldron mysteriously bubbled over and covered the entire room. After a further lecture from the great Professor, Alison looked in her cauldron and found the charred remains of a firecracker. Although Oliver urged her to show it to Snape, she was too exhausted from cleaning up the mess to face another speech on trying to shift the blame, one that she had already heard on numerous occasions from Professor Snape. As she changed into a pair of jeans, she sighed. It was as though Professor Snape could tell whose daughter she was. Her father had told her all about their mutual hatred for each other, and Alison couldn't help but thank her stars that she wasn't James Potter's daughter. No, she was just his goddaughter. She chuckled to herself at the thought of being god siblings with Harry Potter. Just then, there came a knock on the door. Oliver stuck his head in and said, 'It's time. The other girls are waiting downstairs.'

Alison took a deep breath and walked purposefully towards the door. The soles of her sports shoes thudded against the cold floor. The mounting apprehension must have shown on her face for Oliver smiled and said, 'Now you know how I felt yesterday.' Alison giggled. Between giggles, she managed to say, 'I don't know why I'm so nervous. I mean, it's not even that big a deal.' But as she said that, she knew she was lying to herself. Professor Agallant had told them that the top male and female dancers would form the couple for the couple prepared beforehand category as well as the spontaneous category for the same number of people. Oliver had been chosen as the best male dancer. And Alison knew that it would kill her to watch him dance with someone else, to watch him put his hand on some other girl's waist. That would be torture, pure and simple. She had to win, and that decision strengthened her resolve. The butterflies that had been beating their wings against the lining of her stomach disappeared instantaneously and a determined look came over her face. Silently, she nodded at Alicia, Angelina and Katie who had been waiting at the foot of the stairs for her.

When the group entered the Muggle Studies classroom, it was jam packed with students, not just from Gryffindor, but also from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and even Slytherin. As Alison looked around, she saw a face that made her want to turn and run from the room, she saw the sneering face of Marcus Flint. But she stopped herself, and walked determinedly towards the Professor. After she, and the other three girls had signed up, they joined the boys in the pulsing crowd. Alison felt a hand on her shoulder and dreading whom she might see, she turned around.

Harry smiled at the expression on her face, and said, 'Good Luck!' then in an undertone, he whispered, '…sis' Alison smiled back and said, 'What the hell are you doing here? Is Hermione trying out?'

'Hell, no! Can you imagine Hermione trying out for a dance competition?'

Before Alison could respond, Hermione's voice broke in, and she didn't sound too pleased. 'And why not, might I ask? Am I not graceful enough to be in a dance competition?' Alison sniggered and said, 'You've made your bed, Harry, now you have to lie in it!'

Just then, Professor Agallant called for silence and what ensued, if not complete silence, certainly was a significant drop in the noise levels. The professor then proceeded to outline the rules and how the contestants were to be judged on the basis of the applause they received after their performance. Finally, after five minutes, during which the crowd began to get a little restless, he proclaimed in a would-be commentator like voice, 'Let the Games Begin!' This proclamation was followed by a huge cheer, one that would have put the audience in a Wembley Stadium to shame.

Professor Agallant stepped back and turned the knob on the stereo system. The strains of 'Wherever you will go' by the Calling floated out of the speakers. Over the music, Professor Agallant called, 'Alicia Spinnet, if you would do us the honour!' Alicia stepped onto the floor and proceeded to dance like a woman possessed. Alison was most impressed. She hadn't thought Alicia could dance like that. Beside Oliver, George jumped up and down, cheering at the top of his lungs for his girlfriend. When she finished and the last chord was played, the crowd applauded her long and loud. Grinning widely, she curtsied several times to the crowd, before jumping into her boyfriend's arms. As the time went by, Angelina was called, followed immediately by Katie. Both did extremely well, much to the delight of their respective boyfriends. The crowd grew noisier and more boisterous as one girl in sixth year performed a highly technical dance. Although she was very capable, Alison doubted that the girl would be selected on the basis of the fact that although very demonstrative of her capabilities, her performance simply wasn't very pleasing to the eye. Finally, everyone had gone, everyone except for Alison. Alison's palms began to sweat as Professor Agallant raised the mike to his lips to call out the final contestant. Blindly, she walked towards the dance floor and stood there, dumbly until the music started to filter out of the speakers. The moment she heard the first chords, she forgot everything. She forgot how nervous she was, she forgot the mice playing hide and seek in her stomach, and most importantly, she forgot how much was riding on this performance. Oblivious to everyone else, she began to sway to the beat of one of her favourite songs, 'All Rise' from Blue. As she danced, her hips swaying to the music, the crowd went berserk. When the rap section began, Alison launched into a series of flips and spins that even she wouldn't have believed that she could do. The whole crowd fell silent as they watched her twist and turn. The girls burned with jealousy and not surprisingly, respect, and the guys…they just burned with lust. Cedric Diggory stood in the crowd, watching her, as though in a trance. A girl had never turned him down, not until Alison Adams came along. But as he watched her, he knew that this girl was too good for him, from the way she did her hair, the way she laughed when something tickled her funny bone, to her attitude. Before her, Cedric had believed himself to be invincible, but she showed him all of his weak spots.

Further back in the crowd, Marcus Flint's brain was temporarily oblivious to the fact that this was the girl that he hated. All he could see was a perfect body, one that every bone, every muscle, every cell in his body longed to caress. And this was probably the most dangerous thing Alison could ever have done. For Marcus Flint hated her. He would do

anything to hurt her. But at the same time, he lusted for her, and the two emotions, lust and hatred, made a deadly combination, as Alison was soon to discover.

When the song finally ended and Alison came to her senses, she saw the whole crowd jumping up and down, yelling for more. Overcome by fatigue, she acknowledged the crowd's applause before walking towards Oliver and resting her head against his chest. She knew that this gesture would lead to a lot of speculation but at that point she really didn't care. All she wanted was to feel Oliver's arms around her. Sure enough, he stroked her back and only let go when professor Agallant called for silence again.

'Well, like yesterday, it seems that there is no contests at all as to who the best female dancer is. And yet again, I think it is the unanimous decision of the panel that the winner is undoubtedly the best any of us has ever seen. All I can say is, Congratulations Miss Adams.' Alison grinned and pumped her fist in the air. 'The other dancers who have also been chosen are as follows: Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Brown and Katie Bell! Well done to all of you! A word to the wise…it might be a good idea to start practicing soon. The ball is only a month and a half away. Once again, let me remind you that the attire for the ball is to be formal. That is tuxedoes for the men and gowns for the ladies. Good night, and Congratulations again to the winners.'

For about fifteen minutes after this little speech by the professor, Alison was congratulated by students, guys and girls alike, from all four houses. Most surprisingly, Marcus Flint came up to her and said, 'That was some dance, Adams' Needless to say, Alison was flabbergasted at this compliment and simply gaped wordlessly at him. With a chuckle, he disappeared and Alison wondered if maybe there was even the slightest possibility of him being a nice person. But all the while, Oliver glared at him and wondered why the hell he was being so damn nice all of a sudden. This sudden change in attitude, which seemed to Alison like a bid for friendship, seemed to Oliver like the vibrantly coloured tentacles of a poisonous sea anemone attracting its prey. And much to Oliver's display, Alison seemed to be falling for this act.

*****

Darkness was falling as Alison and Oliver made their way to the Quidditch pitch, both of them gripping their broomsticks tightly. As they walked towards the pitch, Alison suddenly stopped in her tracks. In the bushes just beyond the path, she could just make out a shape of a huge animal. Cautiously she continued to walk along the path, a few paces behind Oliver. As she drew closer, she saw a pair of eyes watching her, eyes that belonged to a large, black, shaggy dog. She chuckled to herself as she walked past the bushes where the dog lay hidden. 'One thing about dad,' she mused, 'he's always there when I need him.' Oliver turned around at the sound of her chuckle and looked enquiringly at her. 'What're you chuckling about?'

'Nothing…nothing at all, Oliver'

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Alison thanking her stars that her father was around. Being all alone with Oliver in a moonlit Quidditch pitch, given her present feelings about Oliver, did not seem like the wisest thing to do. The knowledge that her father was around just might prevent her from acting on her emotions. As the Quidditch pitch opened up before them, Alison's heartbeat began to speed up. She gripped her Firebolt tightly; the smooth, familiar sensation of wood beneath her fingers reassured her. She had not held her broomstick since that fateful day when she had been raped. She had locked her broomstick away in her trunk and covered it with her oldest clothes. When she had uncovered her broomstick earlier that day, it had actually been dusty. Back when she had loved Quidditch almost as much as Oliver, her broomstick had been her most prized possession. As she pulled the broomstick from its resting place amongst her socks, a wave of nostalgia swept over her and for a few seconds, she stood as if paralyzed recalling her ecstasy at receiving this particular broomstick in the mail less than two days after the previous one broke.

Oliver's hand on her shoulder jolted her back to the present. She looked over at Oliver who was watching her with an expectant look on his face. With a deep breath, Alison mounted her Firebolt and kicked off from the ground. As she rose into the sky, all those forgotten sensations came flooding back into her head. The wind whipped through her hair as the ground grew further and further away. In that instant, any apprehension Alison had been feeling vanished and it was replaced by the long forgotten feeling of exhilaration. Her Firebolt turned at her lightest touch and after she had reacquainted herself with her broomstick, she hovered a few hundred feet above the pitch and then with a suddenness that was startling, she dived towards the ground, her broomstick accelerating by the second. Less than a foot from the ground, she pulled out of the dive before zooming around the pitch getting higher and higher with each circle she made of the ground.

Finally she came to a rest next to the three hoops at one end of the pitch. Oliver had retired to this particular vantage point to watch her perform. When she stopped about three feet away from him, his face was a blank. Her heart pounding, she stared at his blank face and wondered what he was thinking and more importantly whether or not he was impressed with her cameo performance. The hint of a smile on his face slowed her racing heart and although all he said was, 'You'll do', she knew that he was secretly impressed. He made his way to the changing rooms and beckoned for Alison to follow him. He pushed open the door to the boys' changing room and walked in. When he found that Alison had not followed him in, he stopped and said,' Alison, this century would be nice!'

' You want me to go in the boys' room?'

'Yes! I swear there aren't any naked males in there, so what's the big deal? And even if there are, I doubt they would be waiting to fuck you, so get a move on!'

Meekly, Alison followed him into the boys' changing room and was astonished by how spotless the floor was. She had imagined a dark, dingy place with puddles of mud on the floor. She saw Oliver rummaging in a cupboard in the far side of the room and she walked over to see what he was trying to do. As she bent over him, he said, 'Aha' triumphantly and pulled an old battered looking basketball from the cupboard. Standing up, he tossed it at her before walking back out to the Quidditch Pitch. He gestured for her to get on the broom and begin to fly. He, too, mounted his broom and began to circle the hoops. Instantly, Alison realized what she had to do. She flew around the pitch a couple of times, the old basketball tucked under one hand, and then, as she neared Oliver, she hurled the basketball at the furthest hoop. Oliver had been expecting her to try for one of the closer hoops and hence, she caught him unawares. The ball flew right through the hoop and Alison chuckled to herself at the expression of disbelief on Oliver's face. With a jerk of his head, he said, 'Talk about A fluke. I'll bet you can't do it again!' Alison retrieved the ball then hurled it at one of the hoops again. This time, she caught Oliver going the other way. As the ball sailed through the hoop, Alison said, 'Well, whaddaya think cap'n, good enough for you? Or would you like me to get a few more shots in before you deem me worthy enough to obtain a much coveted position on your prestigious Quidditch team?' by this time, she had drawn so close to Oliver that their noses were almost touching. He could see the challenge in her eyes and feel her peppermint fresh breath on his face. His legs knocked against hers but neither seemed to notice. Despite the knowledge that her father was watching, she couldn't keep herself from doing what she did next. She lifted her hand off her own broomstick and placed it on Oliver's thigh. Oliver put his hands around her waist and lifted her off her own broomstick and onto his. Alison's Firebolt had an anti-crash charm built into it and so, instead of falling to the ground, it lowered itself to within two feet of the ground and hovered there. Alison's mind was spinning as Oliver lifted her onto his broomstick. All thoughts of her father were driven to the back of her head. Oliver removed one hand from her waist but before she could protest, he placed his finger on her lips to shush her. Then, slowly, he removed his finger from her lips and let it drift to her nose and then her eyes. Her skin was softer than he had ever imagined and as he caressed her high cheekbones, he heard Alison murmur, 'Oh, God, Oliver… we shouldn't be doing this, you know we shouldn't. She opened her eyes and placed her palm on his flat, strong chest before pushing him away gently. Oliver pulled away from her abruptly placed both his hands firmly on the broomstick, as though he didn't trust them not to do what they wanted. He lowered the broomstick to the ground and both of them hopped off. Alison picked up her Firebolt and together, they began to walk towards the school building. Suddenly, Alison heard a rustling in the bushes behind her and a familiar voice saying, 'Have you forgotten about your old man already?' Alison grimaced and when Oliver turned around, he gasped and yelled, 'Oh, fck! What the fck are you doing here? Get behind me, Alison! He's gonna have to kill me before he can get to you!' Oliver pulled his wand from his shirt pocket and brandished it as though it were a sword. Sirius smiled and said, 'Well, well, you must be Oliver. My daughter's told me all about you. Hi, honey! You were supposed to meet me, or did you forget?' Oliver watched in horror as Alison strolled out from behind him and walked right into the open arms of Sirius Black. His terror turned to anger at being betrayed and he yelled, 'God damn it, Alison. Just when I think I know you, I find out your father's a convict. If you weren't my best friend, I'd go straight to Dumbledore and tell him that the most wanted man in the country, hell, even in the world, is walking around the grounds, hand in hand with the school's brightest future prospect! Seems like we have a future Voldemort in the making…'. He stopped abruptly and reeled backwards as Alison slapped him sharply across the face. He put his palm gingerly to his smarting and fast-turning-red cheek before saying, in a low voice,' I'll wait for you in the common room. If you're not there in fifteen minutes, with a jolly good explanation, I'm going to Dumbledore, friends or not!' With that he turned on his heel and stomped off towards the castle. Alison stared after his retreating back and wondered how things could go so wrong so fast. She turned around and glared at her father, before saying in a voice that betrayed no emotion, ' Why did you do that dad? Why couldn't you just wait? Even if I had forgotten, which certainly wasn't the case, even if I had, you had no right in hell to jump out like that. That,' and she pointed in the direction Oliver had stomped off in, ' that was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.' With a slight smile, Sirius said, ' Then shouldn't he know who your father is and who he's dealing with? Wouldn't that only be fair to the poor guy? To know who you are? I could see you loved him and I figured that there were two things acting as a dam restricting the flow of your emotions: the chance that you might ruin the best friendship you ever had, and….'

'And what, dad?'

' And me…'

This was followed by a startled silence as Alison digested what her father had just said and she realized that what he had said was true. Some part of her subconscious did indeed fear rejection on the basis of her origins.

She was jolted from her reverie by her father saying, ' Alison, you need to realize that the reason I did that was to make it easier for you to give in to your emotions. The look on your face tells me that my hunch was spot on, that I was one of the reasons behind you being so uptight. Hopefully by showing Oliver who you are, I'm protecting you from further heartbreak somewhere down the line. I saw what happened on the Quidditch pitch today and I suggest that you leave me here and go talk to Oliver. If I were him I know that I would want a jolly good explanation right about now, though it might not completely soothe the sting caused by your lie not to mention that slap.'

'I didn't lie, I just didn't tell him the whole truth…'

' Which you know as well as I do is just as bad. So go on, go talk to Mr. Wood. Oh, and a word to the wise, you don't swear in front of your girlfriend's father.' Alison hugged her father and kissed him on the cheek, before taking off at a sprint towards the castle. Sirius watched her retreating back and sighed, 'This new generation, they make everything so damn complicated, when it's really just as simple as ABC.'

*****

Oliver stomped into the common room, his blood boiling. He couldn't believe that Alison had lied to him and then as though to rub salt into a gaping wound, she had slapped him. He could not believe that Alison Adams was in actuality, Alison Black, the daughter of a convict, but not just any convict, the coldest killer since Lord Voldemort himself. He wondered how Sirius had been getting into the grounds, and no sooner had he asked the question than the answer hit him like a hammer crashing onto his skull. Remus Lupin. That would explain why Alison had met Professor Lupin at lunch. Oliver remembered his father telling him how Sirius black, Remus Lupin, James potter and peter pettigrew had been the best of friends at Hogwarts.  Oliver wondered if Harry knew if Sirius Black was back. Oliver had been so engrossed in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized how empty the common room was. He walked up the stairs to his dorm and shoved open the door. The door slammed into the stonewall with a resounding crash. Startled, he looked around the room and a bright pink paper glued to his mirror caught his eye. He pulled it off and looked around, wondering for the first time where everyone else was. A bit puzzled, he looked down at the note, which read:

'Dear Oliver,

George, lee and I have gone to the Jungle Gym. When Quidditch practice finishes, ask Alison if she has any way of getting here without the Transporta-Cube. If not, then don't wait up for us; we'll probably be late.

Your bud,

Fred

P.s. Angelina, Katie and Alicia are with us so don't bother looking for them. Hope Alison got on the team.'

Oliver laughed at the last part of the note. Not only was Alison good enough to get on the team, she was goon enough to keep Alicia off it for as long as she wanted. Fortunately for Alicia, Alison was graduating at the end of the year with Oliver and the rest of the year sevens. Professor McGonagall had decided on this about a week ago as Alison was in all of the extended classes and excelling in each one. There was no point in keeping her back for an extra year. The thought of Alison filled Oliver with anger, anger at being lied to, anger at being betrayed. But as the seconds ticked by to become minutes, his anger faded away and was replaced by hurt. He walked back into the common room and flopped down in one of the armchairs facing the fire. Casually, he glanced down at his watch and realized with a start that it had been more than twenty minutes since the 'confrontation'. He jumped up from his chair and dusted off his pants but before he could take more than a few steps towards the portrait hole, it burst open and Alison hauled herself through it. From the way she was sweating, Oliver could tell that she had sprinted the whole way. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited for Alison to catch her breath. He didn't have too long to wait. After about thirty seconds, Alison straightened up and said, 'I owe you an explanation, don't I?' She glanced up at Oliver and seeing the stony expression on his face, ploughed on with the carefully prepared explanation that she had thought up on the way here. 'I swear to you, Oliver, my father is completely innocent. He didn't kill any Muggles, he didn't kill peter pettigrew. It was just a whole misunderstanding and I know that it must sound like he's put some sort of Confundus charm on me to scramble my brain, but its true. My father never killed anyone; he would never do something like that. I can't tell you the whole story and that's only because the story is not mine to tell. I just need you to trust me on this. If ever you are going to trust me on anything, ever again, this would be a good one. I would never lie to you, Oliver, I may not tell the whole truth, but I wouldn't tell an outright lie. If I wanted to do that, don't you think I'm smart enough to concoct some story about how…how Sirius isn't really my dad, or that that wasn't really Sirius? Please, Oliver? My father's fate now rests squarely in your hands. I've lost my father once before, please don't let me lose him again.' During this little speech, Oliver's face remained stony, his eyes cold, making Alison feel as though she were being evaluated. Then, slowly, the hint of a smile crossed his lips and spread to the rest of his face. He cocked his head and said, 'well, the option of making you suffer is, indeed very tempting, but when you ask so sweetly, how could I possibly refuse. I promise I wont tell a soul. But Alison, does Dumbledore know that Sirius is around?'

With a slightly shady look, she muttered, 'Yes, he does and so does Harry, before you ask. And no, Harry is not worried about it as he was one of the people who helped my father to escape, he trusts my father as much as I do!'

'And let me guess, Ron and Hermione helped him too! Right?'

'Ummm…yeah, they kind of did, so they know about my dad too. And you've probably figured out that Professor Lupin knows too. And they all trust my father; they would trust him with their lives. So, where're all the rest?'

' Well, my roomies, and their girlfriends have gone to the Jungle Gym…'

At this point, the portrait hole swung open and all the Gryffindors came pouring into the Common Room.  One of Oliver's classmates, Dave, said, 'Hey, where were you two? You missed dinner and it was especially splendid today!'

Alison grinned at him and grabbed Oliver's hand. 'C'mon, Ollie, let's go see if these animals left anything at all for us to eat!' She pretty much dragged him out of the Common Room, though as Dave remarked to the boy standing next to him, he wouldn't complain about a girl like Alison dragging him anywhere.

When they got to the Great Hall, it was empty with the exception of a few teachers. Alison and Oliver sat down at the Gryffindor table and instantly, food appeared on the plates before them.

*****

The next day, Alison was woken by a pounding on the door of the dorm. Groggily, she peeked out from under her blanket, to find that it was still dark outside. Groaning, she pulled the blanket over her head and then buried it under her pillow. But as the pounding grew increasingly insistent, even Alison could not ignore it. Muttering sinisterly, Alison rolled out of bed, blanket and all and padded across the room. She yanked open the door and was about to toss her pillow at Oliver when she froze at the sight of him. He was standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a fluffy bath towel around his waist and a pair of bathroom sandals that would have looked less conspicuous on a three-year-old girl. His body glistened wet from a bath and tiny drops of water were splattered across his chest. His normally neat hair was spiked up by the water. He looked gorgeous, an incarnation of a sex-god! All Alison could say was, 'we're awake. Now go put some clothes on!' With that, she closed the door on his face and walked into the bathroom. As she splashed water on her face, she was joined by the other three girls. Alison wiped her face and walked back out to the dorm, where she proceeded to change.  When she was done, she sat on her bed, pulling on her shoes as the rest changed. Alicia said, 'God, if Oliver looked like that more often, he would have the entire female population of this school fawning over him, whether or not he liked it. He has got the greatest bod! Don't you think so, Alison?' thanking her stars that her relatively dark skin didn't glow red when she was embarrassed, Alison said, 'Yeah, well, you know, he's Oliver.' As she said this, she saw a look pass between the other three girls and instantly, she knew what was going on. They were trying to get Oliver and her together, as a couple. Little did they know that with their present attraction for each other, the last thing they needed was a little help.

Fred, George and Harry joined Oliver in the Common Room. From the way Fred and George kept rubbing their eyes, Oliver could tell that they had had a very late night. Harry, on the other hand, kept winking at Oliver. Alarmed by this rather homosexual behavior, Oliver caught hold of Harry's collar and said, 'what the hell are you winking at me for? Are you gay or something?'

'Urghh, no! And even if I was gay, do you actually believe that I would fancy you? You should be so lucky! I was winking because I saw that thing with Sirius and Alison last night…'

'How the hell? What the fck were you doing there?'

'I was hiding behind the bushes. I wanted to talk to Sirius after Alison was done. But it's a good thing you found out when you did. I wouldn't want to marry my girlfriend and then find out that her father was an escaped convict…'

Oliver's face hardened and his eyes narrowed. In a deathly whisper, he asked, 'Girlfriend?? Is that what you think Alison is to me? A girlfriend?'

'Yes, I mean, no…no, of course not! Why on earth would I think that?' Luckily for Harry, he was saved from further assault by the arrival of the girls. They all trooped down the stairs, looking equally exhausted. As Alison flopped down in the chair beside Oliver, all the latter could do was glare at a very flustered Harry.

When they got to the Quidditch pitch, Alison mounted her broom and kicked off from the ground. In quick succession, all the rest did the same, with the exception of Alicia who had injured her arm. Alison began to fly around the pitch, when she realized that the rest of the team was hovering in the center of the pitch, waiting for her. Sheepishly, Alison joined them and listened quietly to Oliver's detailed instructions. She noticed Fred's head beginning to droop and his eyes starting to close. Oliver, oblivious to Fred's obvious distress, continued enthusiastically and mentally, Alison marveled at his energy. Finally, about fifteen minutes after he had started, Oliver looked around at his team. When he saw the dazed expressions on most of their faces, he gave up and said, 'alright, I want all of you to warm up for about twenty minutes and then do a few drills. Chasers work with me, beaters try and hit the moving target as many times as possible in five minutes; I want a list of your ten best scores at the end of this session. Harry, you work with Alicia. Just get her to throw a few golf balls around and try to catch them. I want a caught/miss percentage at the end of practice and it had better be above seventy five. After an hour of that, we'll go through some of the formations that I just talked about this morning. That should take a total of two hours, and if it doesn't, then I think it would be safe to say that we're missing something out! Everybody clear on what they have to do?' Without waiting for an answer, he continued, 'Fred, George, Angie, Katie, I know that all four of you have active social lives unlike the rest of us on this team, but once in a while, try and get some sleep. I don't want you to have any more late nights before your match against Hufflepuff. Get a move on!'

Alison resumed her rounds of the field and the only person who could keep up with her was Harry on his Firebolt. After the initial adrenalin rush of soaring through the air had faded away, Alison glanced over at Harry. To her surprise, he was looking at her, but what was even more surprising was the fact that he didn't turn away when she caught him staring at her. Instead, he met her gaze and said, in a firm, steady voice, 'I know you like Oliver, and god knows he likes you! Then why on earth aren't you two an item? What's holding you back? It can't be your identity; Oliver seems fine with that. So what is it?'

'It's our friendship…I'm scared that we might ruin it…I, I guess I don't want to take that chance. And obviously neither does Oliver.

'So you're going to pretend that you're not attracted to him? I thought you weren't going to lie to him anymore, but by not admitting your emotions, that's exactly what you're doing! You're both lying to each other! And although this is a big risk, when you're old and gray and you're all alone, you'll realize that this is the sort of risk that is worth taking. I'm a firm believer that every person is meant to be with someone and honestly, Alison, I think you are one of the lucky few who has found that person without too much trouble. Think about it!'

At this point, they heard Oliver yelling at them from his position at the hoops, 'C'mon! No yakking! Get a move on!' Alison looked at Harry and as if on cue, they both burst out laughing!

Two and a half hours later, exhausted and sweating, six players stood around Oliver waiting for his analysis of how the practice had gone. To their surprise, Oliver had nothing spectacularly critical to say, which, from the looks on the others' faces, Alison could tell was a first. After Oliver had pointed out that their match with Hufflepuff was drawing closer by the day, he wrapped up the practice by congratulating his team on performing reasonably well. This, Alison later learned, was a huge compliment coming from their usually 'generous' captain.

*****