Chapter 4
Alison walked out of the Changing room to find Oliver waiting for her outside. Eying her damp hair, he exclaimed, 'God damn it, Alison…last thing we need is for you to get ill right before the match.' Before she could protest, he grabbed the damp towel from her shoulder and then proceeded to wipe her hair vigorously. When he was done, Alison's head hurt from the violent shaking and she felt a little dazed. Oliver obviously didn't notice and he grasped her hand and led her to the Great Hall for brekkies. As she walked into the Great Hall, Alison thought she saw a young boy, about Harry's age craning his neck to look at her. But before she could make sure that she was seeing right, he had turned back, and Alison had walked right into someone. Startled, she looked at the person who she had collided with and saw Professor Lupin smiling at her, his eyes twinkling! In a low voice, he said, 'Sirius told me what happened with Oliver, and he wanted me to report to him on the situation. I don't think it would be too presumptuous of me to assume that Oliver is alright with your *ahem* origins. Hmm…?'
'Well, he was a bit uncomfortable to start with, but I convinced him that dad was innocent. It really makes a difference to me, not having to lie to him.'
'Yes, well, that's love!' said Lupin with a chuckle.
Alison's face colored as she exclaimed, 'God, my father's worse than an old woman when it comes to gossip! Anyway, I had better go or Oliver's arm might fall off from waving at me!'
Lupin turned to see Oliver waving frantically at her, a look of complete distress on his handsome face. He turned back to Alison and whispered, 'God, he obviously wants you!' with a slight stress on the word 'wants'. Before Alison could enquire about this rather sexual innuendo, Lupin had turned and walked out of the Great Hall.
Slightly annoyed at the thought of her father telling Lupin her secrets, she walked towards the Gryffindor table. As usual, as she walked, heads turned, and for a few seconds, conversations seized to exist among the male population of the school. But Alison had grown used to this silence. When she got to the table, she leaned over Angelina's shoulder to look at the piece of parchment that she held in her hand, a piece of parchment that read:
"Hogsmeade Weekend this Saturday. Only students in third year and above are permitted to go, provided they have their permission slips signed."
The last part of the letter made Alison's heart sink. How on earth was she going to get her father's signature? It was then that she turned her attention to Oliver, who looked like he was about to die of fright! Puzzled and a bit worried, Alison asked, 'What the hell is wrong with you? You look like you have fire ants in your pants and they're doing a lot of damage!'
With the air of a drug dealer on one of the darker, more sinister alleyways in Durban, Oliver, pulled a letter from inside his robes, and after looking around furtively to ensure that no one was looking, he dropped it in her lap. Even more puzzled by this behavior than by the last, Alison looked down at the letter in her lap and then grinned. It all made sense now!
Sitting in her lap was a letter from her father; a letter from 'Sirius Black' and that was what had put Oliver in such a flap. He had grabbed the letter as soon as it had arrived and hidden it so as to prevent Alison's cover from being blown. Though, really, such precautions were very unnecessary. Alison couldn't think of anyone who would want to read her mail. Still, Oliver's concern was touching. With two tears, she ripped open the letter and as she read it, her grin became even wider. The note read:
'I, Sirius Black, father of Alison Adams Black, give her the permission to attend Hogsmeade with her friends.'
That was it, but it was enough for Alison! Gleefully, she showed it to Oliver, who read it, albeit furtively as Alison poured herself a large glass of juice. Harry caught her eye and winked. Alison winked back. Oliver watched in silence, but before he could break the silence, a cold voice from behind him did. The cold voice of Marcus Flint. 'Well, Woodie,' he sneered, 'it's only a few days to your first match, and you still don't have a third chaser.'
Oliver pushed back his chair and swung around to face Flint. His dark eyes flashing, he said, 'Well, you've obviously been misinformed; I do have a third Chaser, an awesome one at that. Now for the sake of secrecy, I'm not going to tell you who it is, but I promise you, you wont be half as cocky when we play you because you're going to know that we will steam roller you! We will squash you into the ground! So run along and practice, I have a feeling you're going to need it!'
Flint seemed at a loss for words and as soft titters of laughter began to ring through the Great Hall, he turned on heel and walked back to the Slytherin table. Once there, he held a whispered conversation with the blonde haired boy who had been staring at Alison earlier. Suddenly, she remembered what his name was. She remembered Harry telling her about Draco Malfoy. She felt a chill run down her back as she saw Flint glance over his shoulder at her before turning back to Malfoy and nodding his head decisively. It seemed as though some sort of plan had been decided on, one that, if Alison knew Flint well, didn't bode her well at all.
*****
Later that day, as Alison and Oliver burst into the Potions classroom, the look on Professor Snape's face told them that they were really in for it. It certainly didn't help their case that their clothes and hair were ruffled from sprinting the whole way from the Muggle Studies lesson, which had been held at the Quidditch Pitch again. Much to their surprise, they were let off relatively easily. Gryffindor only lost twenty points, an astonishingly low figure even when he was in a good mood. As they slipped into their seats, she heard a snigger coming from the shadows somewhere behind her. This time, however, she didn't bother to turn around! She knew exactly who the sniggerer was.
After Snape had given them their assignments and had begun his prowls around the classroom, Alison slowly pulled a page out of her book and scribbled:
'When do the dance practices start?'
She then shoved the paper at Oliver, who cast a discreet glance at it before dragging it towards himself using his elbow and writing back, 'How about this evening? We'll tell the others in lunch.'
Alison looked over at him and nodded. She was about to say something when she caught sight of a long shadow forming on her book. Slowly, she turned around and gasped.
Professor Snape stood behind her, a malicious sneer forming on his thin lips and Alison felt like a naughty girl, caught with her hands in the cookie jar. In a loud voice that caused everyone in the class to turn around and stare, he said, 'Seeing as how you seem unable to concentrate in class, Miss Adams, I think it would only be fair to expect you to do something else that might require all of your attention. So perhaps you would like to clean out the cauldrons at the front of the classroom. But be warned, I shall expect this assignment on my desk first thing tomorrow morning. And if I don't have it by then, I promise you will find yourself in detention for the rest of the week. You'd better get to work on the cauldrons as I don't intend on letting you leave until you have finished cleaning them all. And when I say clean, I mean manually, without magic. The soap and brushes are in the cupboard to the right of my desk.'
Glaring sullenly at the large collection of cauldrons that stood at the front of the classroom, Alison stalked to the cupboard, pulled it open and grabbed a couple of brushes and a large bottle of detergent. Then she walked over to the first cauldron and winced. It was covered with slimy green goo that looked like it had solidified. She glanced over at Snape who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her discomfort. Clenching her jaw to keep from screaming and throwing the brush at Snape's head, she opened the bottle of detergent and squeezed. Nothing. Not a drop! Annoyed, she shook the bottle and then squeezed again. Still nothing. Honestly, the least Snape could do was give her a bottle full of detergent. She tried one last time, but this time with the nozzle facing her and knowing her luck, this time, it did work. Foul smelling purple detergent spurted all over her black robes and onto her face. Grimacing, she wiped her face and then proceeded to clean the cauldrons. As she had expected, the goo had indeed solidified, making it impossible to remove except with her fingernails. By the time she finished, it was nearly the end of the lesson and her nails were a mess, not to mention her hair and her robes. When the bell rang, Snape came over and began to inspect each cauldron individually. But Alison knew that he would be unable to find fault with her on this count! She refused to give him the satisfaction of keeping her back. Finally, he looked and said, without a trace of emotion in his voice, 'you may go. But remember, I want that essay by tomorrow!'
*****
That evening, eight Gryffindors assembled in the Great Hall after dinner. They made their way to the spacious Transfiguration classroom and when they got there, they settled themselves on the desks, a privilege that would have been impossible had Professor McGonagall been around. Almost immediately, they got down to business, deciding which songs they were going to dance to. After a long, conversation during which they seemed to go round and round in circle, they all finally agreed on 'Freestyler' by Bomfunk MCs for the Group dance and 'When you're looking like that' by Westlife for the couple dance. That decided, Alicia and Angelina wanted to get started right away but Oliver insisted that they all go to bed right away so that Quidditch practice would be a bit livelier the next morning. A wide yawn by Katie slipped the clincher and much to Alicia's disgust, Oliver packed them all off to bed.
*****
The whole week just flew by and before Alison knew it, it was the weekend and the whole school-save those unlucky enough not to be able to go to Hogsmeade for whatever reason-was abuzz with excitement. All eight Gryffindors who had been chosen for the dance competition had been working hard all week, attending practices called by Alison during lunch as well as after class. In addition to this, Oliver was making his Quidditch team practice at all hours of day, and night for that matter, and he himself was working like a man possessed. All he seemed to think about was the upcoming match against Hufflepuff and although Hufflepuff was by far the least competitive of the four house teams, Oliver was making them practice as though they were going to play against the England team itself. As if this weren't bad enough, all the teachers seemed to be piling up the homework, in preparation for the NEWTs particularly Snape who had been in a very vindictive mood that whole week. All in all, the sixth and seventh years were exhausted, and this weekend provided them with chance to relax, unwind a bit and get in some much-needed fun. Their last class on the Saturday was Defense Against The Dark Arts and as they all queued up by the door to show Prof. Lupin their permission slips, Alicia and Angelina were talking animatedly about a shop called 'It's your world' which, if what Alison had heard was anything to go by, was an earthen paradise, particularly for girls with money to spend. Oliver, on the other hand, seemed to be able to think of nothing but Butterbeer, which he considered better than any form of alcohol. As Lee lewdly said, 'If you can't get any action in the sack, there's always Butterbeer!' as she neared the door, Alison fished in her pocket for her permission slip and triumphantly pulled it out before brandishing it in front of Lupin's nose. An expression of amusement and slight disquiet on his face, he snatched the note from her and said, 'I trust you wont be needing this anymore.' Then, in an undertone, he added, 'Buy yourself a really pretty gown. Your father is dying to see it. In fact, he's more excited about this dance than he was about his own prom!'
About fifteen minutes later, Alison walked out of the gates with Oliver by her side. She looked over at her three friends and felt a pang of jealousy when she noticed that they were all holding their boyfriends' hands. It pierced her soul like the edge of a serrated dagger, tearing her insides to pieces. At that point in time, she wanted nothing more than to turn to Oliver and kiss him, just so that she wouldn't be the only one without a boyfriend. But as soon as that thought entered her mind, she pushed it away firmly. If she was ever going to have any relationship with Oliver, it was going to come of its own accord and not because of her own petty jealousy. She glanced at Oliver and had to smile when he proceeded to do the funniest albeit the most exaggerated imitation of Professor Snape, from the way a vein twitched in his temple when he got angry to the way he swished his robes behind him as he walked. Before she knew it, they were standing in Hogsmeade and had decided that they would meet up at the Three Broomsticks in exactly two and half hours. With that, Alison followed the other three girls towards the shop that she had heard so much about while Oliver strolled off with the other three guys to buy his tuxedo.
As the three girls walked along, they talked about a lot of things, from clothes to fashion to Alison's life in South Africa. But inevitably, the conversation ended up on Oliver. Katie began to gush about how handsome Oliver had looked that morning and yet, again, all three girls turned to Alison for her 'unbiased' opinion. Alison had half a mind to tell them exactly what she had thought or rather felt that morning. But instead, she resisted the urge and again, said, in an impassive voice; 'It's Oliver…that pretty much says it all for me!' As she turned away to look at a poster that had been put up on the wall, she caught the look of exasperation on Katie's face and chuckled to herself, 'If only they knew how obvious their motive was!' fortunately, she was saved from further joshing by their arrival in front of what Alicia claimed to be the entrance to the shop. True, it did say It's Your World' on the wall just above the dirty wooden door, but if the door was anything to go by, Alison was certainly not buying her dress from here. A bit stunned, she turned to Alicia who smiled and then tapped three times on what appeared to be a regular dustbin, just beside the door. Immediately, the brick wall disappeared, like a shroud being pulled out from in front of her eyes. And what Alison saw made her jaw drop open and her eyes open wide. Stretching out in front of her was the longest aisle she had ever seen. On either side of this aisle were shelves stocked from roof to floor with all sorts of things. In fact the only breaks in these aisles were for entrances into smaller aisles. Purposefully, Alison's three companions strode down the center aisle for about 100 meters and then turned left into one of the smaller aisles. And there, Alison gasped as her eyes beheld the widest collection of gowns and robes imaginable. From simple blacks to shimmering whites, from gowns that were enchanted to fade between two colors at regular intervals, to gowns that were Muggle-like in their appearance. And it was towards these gowns that the four girls walked. Alison headed towards a rack that held some rather promising looking gowns. She ran an expert finger along the rack and quickly picked out the three dresses that she liked the most. When she looked around, she found that her three companions seemed to have disappeared. Slightly puzzled, Alison walked into the changing room and slipped on the first of her three short listed gowns. This one was black and short and two thin straps held it up. Although the gown did accentuate her figure nicely, it was nothing spectacular. And that was what Alison was looking for…something spectacular! She pulled off this gown and pulled on the next. This particular gown was a lot more 'spectacular' in every sense of the word. From the plunging neckline to the colors, it was a lot more eye catching than the first one. The top half of the gown was a shimmery pale lavender while the bottom half was a regal purple. But as Alison looked at herself in the mirror, she realized that the lavender did not suit her particular skin tone. Slightly disappointed, she pulled this gown off as well and tossed it on the ground beside the black one. Then she pulled on the last of her short listed outfits, a flowing maroon gown. This gown would not have been anything much in the spectacular department had it not been for its intriguing center section. The center section consisted entirely of fine silver threads that crisscrossed to form a net. And as Alison twirled and looked at herself in the mirror, she knew that this would be the dress she would wear to the ball unless something really spectacular surfaced. She was just changing back into her robes when someone threw a gown over the door of her changing room and it fell on the floor near her feet. Puzzled, she picked it up and rushed out of the door to see if the owner was still around. To her astonishment, the corridors on either side of the changing rooms were completely empty. Now completely confused, Alison looked down at the dress in her hand and her heart did a double flip. Her hands trembling slightly, she held the dress up to look at the dress properly and to find some flaw in it. There had to be a flaw, no dress could be so perfect. But after staring at it for what seemed like an eternity, she still couldn't seem to find the flaw. She looked around again to make sure that the original finder of this dress was not around. Nobody! The corridors were still empty. Her heart still pounding, she rushed back into her cubicle and slipped on the gown. It fitted her like a glove and as she looked at herself in the mirror, Alison could not imagine anyone else wearing this particular gown. The gown was a deep blue like the color of the sea on a bright summer's day. And as she moved, tiny silver sparkles appeared on the material as though minute diamonds had been sewn into the material. The dress itself was of a style that Alison had never seen before. Along with the deepest back she had ever seen, it was held up by two sets of silver threads: one set around her neck and the other about halfway down her back. The bottom of the dress flowed to the ground almost as if it were made of some sort of liquid that had been frozen in time. The dress accentuated Alison's narrow waist, her shapely hips and her long, slender legs. It was gorgeous! She was about to take off the gown, when suddenly; there came a loud knock on the door of her cubicle. Alison froze with the fear that it might be the person who had thrown the gown over the door of the cubicle. In a trembly voice, Alison whispered, 'Who is it?'
To her great relief, it was only Alicia, checking to see if she was done. Thanking her stars, Alison stepped out of the cubicle and the three girls outside were momentarily stunned into speechless silence. They just gaped at Alison as she stepped out of the cubicle, looking like some sort of fairy princess, albeit without a crown of any kind on her head. It was Katie who broke the silence. In a voice that was barely above a whisper, she said, 'Where did you get that gown? It's…it's exquisite! I mean, wow! And we were just about to tell you that we couldn't find anything worthwhile in this place…'she lapsed into silence. Alison felt a bit uncomfortable with all three of them gazing at her in unbridled admiration and she said hesitantly, 'well, umm…I think I'll go change back into my robes now!' she had just turned to go back into her cubicle when Alicia said, 'God, it is so unfair. Just when we think that you've hit your peak, that you can't possibly look any more gorgeous, you go and do just that. And where does that leave us, us poor ordinary looking womenfolk when all the men would give their right legs to go out with you. Hell, I've seen the way my boyfriend looks at you and it's annoying to know that he thinks someone else is sexier than me! But then, I guess its not your fault that men are so shallow…I, I'm sorry…' Alicia looked down at her feet, mortified at her sudden outburst. Alison felt terrible, even though she hadn't done anything, she felt like a witch that lured men out into the open and then ate them! Softly, she said, 'Hey, look, I'm sorry…but I guess now that Alicia has told me exactly how she feels, a feeling which, I'm sure, is common to all three of you, it's only fair that I tell you exactly how I feel. I think the three of you are immensely lucky. All three of you have boyfriends who really love you and to tell you the truth, every time I see you holding their hands, I feel so jealous of you…jealous that you have something that I don't have, jealous that you are able to feel such intimacy when I can't. I'm only human, too, you know! And the fact of the matter is, I'm lonely, so lonely it makes me want to hurl! Nobody has everything. Do you want to know what I don't have? I don't have love! And if you really love your boyfriends, that should make you feel sorry for me 'cuz you've all been touched by love while I haven't.' with that very profound speech, Alison went into the changing room and shut it firmly behind her.
When she emerged five minutes later, the blue dress hanging over her shoulder and the other three in her hand, her companions seemed suitably subdued. Alison looked at them and then down at the gowns in her hand. A smile began to spread across her face as a plan to lighten the atmosphere began to form in her head. About half an hour later, all four girls emerged from the shop, each holding a bag in their hand. Just as Alison had suspected they would, Katie had bought the lavender gown and Alicia and Angelina had bought the maroon and black ones respectively. Together, the girls walked towards the Three Broomsticks talking loudly about the rather attractive wizard who had made out the receipt for them. Before they knew it, they were standing outside the Three Broomsticks, a building that looked like it was being held up by its fair share of magic. As a chill wind blew around them, they rushed through the door of the pub and were instantly greeted by a shroud of warmth and laughter. Intrigued Alison looked around and saw half the student body of Hogwarts not to mention some of the teachers, sitting at tables, looking completely at ease. Finally, she spotted the four boys sitting at a table, right at the far corner of the room, absorbed in an intense conversation, which, no doubt, centered about Quidditch. However, Alison would never get the chance to know that they had in fact been talking about a slight variation of Quidditch, namely Women in Quidditch. From there, they had switched to women in general and these sorts of conversations always made Oliver feel a bit left out as his experience with members of the opposite sex was extremely limited. However, this time, he found that he did indeed have something worthwhile to contribute to the conversation as it centered mainly on women and how bitchy they get when in PMS. Although not quite in his element, Oliver was much better informed in this particular scenario than the other three due to his remarkable friendship with Alison. He did, however, lose all interest in the conversation when it turned to sex in all its forms and manifestations. It wasn't as though he was not interested in sex, he was, after all, a man! But, he had no interest whatsoever in having sex with a woman that one did not love. It was at this point in the conversation that Oliver glanced at the door and saw Alison looking around. Grinning, he stood up and waved. Alison saw him and turned around to say something to the three girls who were with her. Together, they began to walk towards the table and despite himself; Oliver couldn't help but wonder if Alison had ever had consensual sex and if her opinions on the subject were anything like his. No sooner had the thought crept into his mind than he pushed it away. As she slipped into the seat beside her, he grabbed for the bag that she held in her hand, only to be swatted away like a fly by a very indignant Alison. Putting on his best puppydog face, Oliver said, 'aw, c'mon Alison! Pweeeeez? Lemme see what you bought!'
Trying her best not to bust into laughter, Alison sputtered, 'No, why do you wanna see what I bought?'
'Cuz…'
'Cuz?'
'Oh, forget it!'
The other six seated at the table had been watching this little exchange with amusement. They all thought it was so cute the way Alison and Oliver bickered. And that was what had caused the three girls to try and get Alison interested in Oliver. They knew that getting Oliver interested in Alison was not a problem; no guy in his right mind would be able to resist her charms.
Three hours flew by in an instant and before Alison knew it, they had only half an hour left to get back to the castle. To her astonishment and slight annoyance, Alicia, Angelina and Katie got up and left the Three Broomsticks with their respective boyfriends, leaving her and Oliver all one. She wondered if the three boys were in on this one as well. So, she turned to Oliver and said, with a pretend sad expression on her face, "Y'know Oliver, I'm beginning to get the feeling that they don't like us very much…'
'I'd probably get the same feeling if they hadn't told me that they were looking forward to spending some quality time with their girlfriends. So, I wouldn't feel badly about it, if I were you! Sooo…are you going to show me your gown?'
'Hell, no…and no, I won't show it to you in exchange for seeing your tuxedo, before you even suggest it!'
'All right, then, don't show it to me! Now what say we ditch this joint and go for a walk…I need a bit of fresh air!'
Alison readily agreed, for although the Three Broomsticks was a very cozy place, after about three hours, it tended to get a bit stuffy. She picked up her bag and followed Oliver out into the chilly night. As a gust of wind breezed past them, Alison shivered, and pulled her cloak tighter around her body. Oliver noticed, and frowned…last thing he needed was an ill Chaser! They walked along in silence and before they knew it, they had reached the shrieking shack. Alison had heard all about this place from Harry and her father, and she knew its long, illustrious history. As she looked at the broken down shack, the yellowed plaster peeling in places, she couldn't blame the people who believed the stories that this shack was haunted. As it towered menacingly over them, silhouetted against the full moon, Alison felt a chill run down her spine. She walked over to where Oliver was leaning against the fence and hoisted herself up into one of the wooden posts driven into the ground. As she did so, her hand brushed against Oliver's chest and she jerked it away. But before it could get very far, Oliver caught hold of her hand and pulled her towards him. Slowly, gently, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, so close that she could feel his breath on her neck. Timidly, she looked up into Oliver's eyes and her knees felt weak. Gently, he ran a finger along the length of her cheekbones and then onto her lip. As Alison closed her eyes, the last thing she saw was Oliver's handsome face lowering down onto hers. As his lips touched hers, her whole body began to tingle. She could feel his hands on her waist, but instead of pushing them away like the rational part of her brain was telling her to, she raised her arms and locked them around his neck, pulling him closer. As the kiss got deeper and harder, Alison lost consciousness of everything around her. It was only her and Oliver, alone. Suddenly, she heard a noise, the sound of someone clearing his throat. Abruptly, she stopped and pushed Oliver away. She swirled around and gasped, for in front of her stood Draco Malfoy, a wide sneer pasted on his face. In a voice that made her blood run cold, he said, 'Well, well, well, what do we have here? I certainly hope that I didn't interrupt anything too important?' with that, he turned around and walked towards the road that led back to Hogwarts. Alison watched him retreat into the darkness, and when he had finally disappeared, she swallowed hard to try and get rid of the growing lump in her throat. Then, in a would be casual voice, she said, 'Wow, it's gotten really dark, we'd better head back to school, or else they might send out a search party!'
'Umm…yeah, we'd better get going, I wouldn't want anyone to get worried about us…'
As they trudged down the path to Hogwarts, neither said a word. But both their minds were whirring. Despite her cheery exterior, Alison was weeping on the inside. She couldn't believe that her life could be so twisted. I mean, why couldn't Malfoy have just minded his own business. Or better yet, why hadn't she just ignored him, and kept right on doing what she was doing. You know, the 'let the whole world go fck a tree' attitude. Why was it that every time she and Oliver came close to kissing, something happened that forced them to stop? God, she hated herself for making everything so complicated, and for not showing Oliver that she was attracted to him right from the word Go.
Oliver's mind was whirling from the most amazing two minutes of his life. When his lips had touched hers, he felt as though he was finally whole, like that little bit of him that had been missing all this time had finally been found. He felt as though the two of them were the only ones in the entire universe who mattered. He wanted so much to just tell her straight out that he loved her, that he adored everything about her, from the way she laughed right down to the way she walked. But it wasn't as though he could pull her into a dark cupboard to shut out the rest of the world, and then profess his undying love for her. Just the thought of being alone in a dark cupboard with her sent a wave of excitement surging through his body.
Before they knew it, they were standing outside the Common Room. Oliver muttered the password under his breath and the portrait hole swung open. As he stepped through, into the Common Room, the Fat Lady, who was rumored to have quite a crush on him, winked at him. The two of them stepped inside to be greeted by a wave of noise and chatter. Alison looked around to see the whole of the Gryffindor House sitting in the Common Room. Every armchair, every pouf, every available surface had been occupied. Surveying the scene before her, Alison noticed that Katie was sitting on Fred's lap, her head resting against his chest, their hands entwined. Over on the other side of the Common Room, Harry, Ron and particularly indignant Hermione were all squashed into one armchair. Some of Oliver's friends were sitting on the floor near the fire, playing a game of wizard's chess. Chuckling softly to herself, Alison turned to Oliver, only to find him looking intently at her. In a soft voice, Alison said, 'well, there doesn't seem to be very much place here, Ollie, so I guess this is good night…'her voice trailed off as Oliver leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek, before whispering, 'Good night'. Startled, Alison didn't know what to say. So instead, she bolted up the stairs to her dorm, after looking around shadily to see if anyone had seen that. As Oliver watched her beat a quick retreat to her dorm, he grinned. *There was no rule saying you couldn't flirt with your best friend* he thought as he walked over to where his friends were sitting on the floor.
*****
The day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff dawned bright and sunny, and the sky was a forget-me-not blue. Alison awoke well before dawn and couldn't seem to get back to sleep. She tossed and turned to try and find a more comfortable position but it was no use. Eventually, she clambered out of bed and changed into her black robes. Quietly, she eased open the door and tiptoed down the stairs to the Common Room. To her immense surprise, she found that it was not empty. The slight frame of Harry Potter sat curled up in the armchair closest to the fireplace. At the sound of her footsteps, he turned around and smiled weakly at her. Puzzled, Alison asked, 'Whassa matter Harry? Not feeling too well?'
'No, I'm fine…it's just nerves. Aren't you nervous? I mean, this is your first Quidditch match…'
'FIRST?? What a load of bull! I've played Quidditch for as long as I can remember. I was captain at my old school!!!'
Stunned, Harry groped for words but he couldn't find any. Luckily, he was saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of Oliver into the Common Room. Oliver seemed as keyed up about the match as Alison seemed calm. He was like a tightly wound toy bounding all over the Common Room, polishing first his broomstick and then Harry's and Alison's in turn. In a conspiratorial whisper, Harry said, 'don't mind Oliver! He tends to get a bit weirder than usual before a match!' This, however, did not deter Oliver from scrubbing Alison's broom just as hard as he had polished his own. At breakfast, he was even worse. He urged everyone else to eat, while at the same time, not touching a morsel himself. He glanced at his watch every couple of seconds. Finally, in a hoarse voice, he said 'Team, Changing Rooms! Let's move!' As the Gryffindor team made their way out of the Great Hall, everyone but the Hufflepuffs and the Slytherins cheered them loudly. Alison's heart began to beat faster as they made their way to Quidditch pitch and into the changing rooms.
After they had all changed into the robes, they assembled just inside the changing room and waited for Oliver's pep talk. Oliver took a deep breath and then plunged right into his speech.
"Alright, team! The ground's hard and it should give us a good kickoff. I know that Hufflepuff doesn't quite have the best reputation in the world when it comes to Quidditch, but that doesn't matter! I don't want to see any signs of complacency, from the moment we step onto that field to the moment we step off it. I want every single one of you to be alert. Work as a team! You're not here to prove anything to me! I know you're all good individual players, but you have to pull together as a team! That's the only way we're going to win the Quidditch Cup this year. I know that you can do it!! Now you have to go out there and prove me right!!!"
Pumped up, the Gryffindor team charged onto the field amid thundering applause that rang out from all corners of the stadium. When they got to the center where the Hufflepuffs, all dressed in their canary yellow robes, were waiting for them, Madame Hooch told the two captains to shake hands. Oliver grasped Cedric's hand and shook it firmly. He even allowed himself a small smile. As they let go, Mme Hooch intoned, 'I want a clean and fair game! No cheating, no fighting, or else the player shall be severely reprimanded! Now, mount your brooms!'
Her heart thumping against her ribcage, adrenalin coursing through her veins, Alison swung her leg over her broom. Beside her, she could see Oliver clenching and unclenching his jaw. The muscles in her legs tensed as she awaited Mme Hooch's whistle. And then it came! A shrill whistle emitted from Madame Hooch's lips and as one, fourteen brooms pushed off from the ground. They soared into the air like corks being popped from a champagne bottle and then scattered. The crowd went wild and for a few seconds Alison felt as though her eardrums would burst. But as it happened she was not given much time to dwell on this thought. Angelina tossed the bright red Quaffle straight at her and as Alison caught it, she felt a surge of adrenalin course through her veins. Gripping the handle of her broom hard, she zoomed towards the goalposts. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a speeding bludger heading straight for her. She banked sharply to the left and to her relief, the Bludger whistled past her, so close that she could feel the swish of air as it went past. Up ahead, the goalpost glinted in the sunlight and she could see the Hufflepuff keeper begin to swerve around the first two goalposts. Like Oliver before him, the Hufflepuff goalie didn't think Alison would attempt to toss the Quaffle at the third and farthest goalpost. Little did he know! The entire crowd got to its feet as Alison neared the posts. Alison's muscles tensed and she hurled the Quaffle at the third hoop. As it sailed through the hoops without so much as grazing the sides, the half if the crowd that was decked in red began to holler and yell. Jubilantly, Lee Jordan announced the score: 10-0 Gryffindor. Elated, Alison punched her fist in the air as she flew back to her original position. As she flew past Harry, he winked at her and jerked his head towards the eastern side of the ground that was bordered by some greenery. To Alison's immense astonishment, she saw the outline of a large black dog sitting among the vegetation. She couldn't help grinning as she thought, 'Good old dad!!'
Twenty minutes and five goals later, the score read 50-0 in favour of Gryffindor. Of the five goals, Alison had scored three and had helped set up the other two. For his part, Oliver had successfully fended off a wild volley off shots on the Gryffindor goal after the Angelina had scored the fourth goal for Gryffindor. Harry, acting from experience, was staying well out of the way, keeping a watchful eye out for any bludgers hit by the Hufflepuff beaters. Hufflepuff was in possession and the top chaser on the Hufflepuff team, LeMov was speeding towards Oliver, the Quaffle held tightly under his arm. Fred and George pelted the bludgers at him, but the LeMov deftly dodged them. LeMov had raised his arm and was about to release the Quaffle when a flash of gold streaked past his face. The Golden Snitch! Harry and Cedric saw it too, but much to Oliver's dismay, Cedric was much closer to it than Harry. Oliver watched in horror as Cedric narrowed his eyes and zoomed towards the snitch. When he was less than arm's distance away, Oliver closed his eyes. He couldn't believe that Cedric was going to get the snitch before Harry. Every eye in the stadium was riveted in Cedric and Harry, so much so that no one noticed Alison looping Cedric from behind. Cedric was about to close his fingers around the snitch when suddenly, Alison cut across in front of him, nearly severing his wrist! Cedric jerked his hand back just in time, and that slight moment of hesitation was all Harry needed to cover the distance between him and the Snitch. Before Cedric had time to recover, Harry clutched at the snitch, trapping it between his sweaty fingers. But before he could celebrate, he heard a spine-chilling crunch, followed almost immediately by a cry of pain. He whirled around to see Alison fall to the ground in a crumpled heap, clutching her arm in pain. Any thought of celebration were pushed from him mind as he saw Alison's face contort in agony. He jumped off his broom and charged towards where Alison lay on the ground. Behind him, the crowd had gone strangely silent and Madame Hooch blew her whistle signaling the end of the match. Before Harry could reach Alison, Oliver appeared by her side and gently lifted her arm to check the extent of the damage caused. All her teammates were clustered around her when all of a sudden; a large black dog pushed its way through them and began to lick Alison's face. Despite the throbbing pain in her arm, Alison smiled, and Oliver couldn't keep himself from chuckling. He did, however, stop when the dog gave me a look very reminiscent of Professor McGonagall. Trust Sirius to come to his daughter's "rescue". By this time, the spectators had regained their raucousness and had made their way down to the pitch, hollering and blowing thin horns. Despite Oliver's protests, they hoisted all the members of the Gryffindor team, including Alison onto their shoulders and carried them back to the castle. Had it not been for Madame Hooch's intervention, they most certainly would have carried Alison back to the common room for the celebration party, pain or no pain. But Madame Hooch stoically insisted that Alison be taken to the hospital wing for immediate treatment turning a deaf ear on Alison's feeble pleas that she really wasn't hurt very seriously. Oliver insisted that he go with her for he could see that despite her smiles, her face was pale and pinched with pain. Harry had tried to accompany them but the crowd refused to let him escape, so he let himself be led off by the crowd, a slightly disgruntled expression on his face.
When the last supporter had disappeared around the corner, Oliver looked at Alison out of the corner of his eye and said, 'You played brilliantly today…but you lost your concentration at the end? Any reason or do you just tend to do that in a tense match?' Alison smiled at him weakly. In a shaky voice that confirmed his suspicion that she was holding back tears, she said, 'I guess…I guess I was watching Harry and I kinda forgot that I was still on the pitch. I'm sorry for putting you through this, Oliver…' Her voice trailed off and Oliver, sensing that she was in dire need of some cheering up, whispered, 'Close your eyes'. When Alison looked at him rather skeptically, he exclaimed, 'Oh, goddamn it! I'm not gonna hurt you! Will you just close your eyes?'
Rolling her eyes, Alison conceded and did as she was told. To her astonishment, she felt Oliver grasp her around the waist and sweep her off her feet…literally. Her eyes flew open and she stared at Oliver in shock! Gently, he ran his finger down the length of her nose before smiling cheekily and saying, 'Relax…it's just you and me now!' Alison's breath quickened when she saw the look of desire in his eyes. She didn't want this to happen, not here, not now, not when she didn't have full use of her arms! She turned her head away and said faintly, 'Ollie, my arm really hurts…can we go to the hospital wing?'
Oliver hesitated, as though contemplating whether or not to believe Alison, but when he saw the pleading look in Alison's eyes, his heart melted and he gave in. Slowly, the two made their way to the hospital wing.
When Madame Pomfrey saw Alison in Oliver's arms, she raised her eyebrow rather skeptically, before enquiring if Alison's feet had also been hurt in some way by the bludger. When she received an answer in the negative, she chuckled under her breath and directed Oliver to put Alison down on the bed in the corner. Tentatively, the nurse began to prod Alison's arm and when she touched the spot where the Bludger had struck Alison, Alison yelped loudly and jumped almost two feet in the air. In a grave voice that made Oliver's heart sink, she said, 'Just as I suspected…it's broken. But, I wouldn't worry about it too much, I can fix broken bones in an instant!' she got up and walked to the opposite corner of the ward, where she rummaged in a battered looking cupboard for about two minutes. Finally, she pulled a bottle of glutinous, slime green liquid out the third drawer with a triumphant look on her face. Pulling out the biggest spoon Alison had ever seen from the pocket of her smock, she poured a generous helping of the medicine onto it before forcing it down Alison's throat. As the liquid slid down her gullet, the whole back of her throat felt as though it were going up in flames. Her eyes began to water and sweat began to pour out of her pores. Had it not been for the immense pain that was threatening to consume her whole, the look of alarm on Oliver's face would almost certainly have made her laugh. As the burning sensation started to die down, so indeed did the pain in her arm. To her shock, and wonder, Alison realized that her arm was not throbbing any more.
When Oliver and Alison stepped through the portrait hole, they were greeted by a wave of music and laughter. Without even stopping to look at her friends, Alison headed straight for the table in the corner that held the refreshments. To her astonishment, there was alcohol on the table, and lots of it. On any other day, she would have pondered how the alcohol had gotten there, but not that day. That day, she just poured herself a shot of straight vodka, before gulping it down. Oliver watched her in silence. Alison looked at him and said, as if in explanation of what she had just done, 'hey, I've had a fcking hard day!' Pouring himself some brandy, Oliver chuckled and replied, 'Tell me about it! I thought I was going to have to find myself a new Chaser…again!' As the first notes of the song 'Fly By' by Blue began to filter from the radio, all the couples headed for the small makeshift dance floor in the center of the common room. Oliver wondered if he had the guts to ask Alison to dance. But when he looked at her, he made up his mind. Without a word, he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her towards the dance floor. Once there, he turned around to face her and placed his arms around her waist. Gently, he pulled her close to him and began to dance. At first Alison's muscles were stiff but as the song went on, she relaxed and began to sway with him. She could feel the people's eyes boring into her back, but right then she couldn't care less. And neither, it seemed, could Oliver. As the night wore on, Alison began to wish that she could just tell Oliver how she felt about him, but she was waiting for the right moment. And that moment, in the middle of the Gryffindor common room filled with Gryffindors from year three upwards, that moment just didn't feel like the right one.
*****
The jubilation caused by Gryffindor's victory lasted a whole week. Hufflepuff, it has to be said, were incredibly good losers. The entire team congratulated Oliver and his teammates on a splendid display of teamwork. Cedric apologized profusely to Alison and seemed sincerely relived that the bludger had caused her no lasting damage. The next few weeks seemed to fly by, what with the never-ending stream of practices for the dance competition and steadily increasing amount of homework that the professors were piling on them. The match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin went pretty much as expected. The latter wiped the floor with the Ravenclaws, much to the disappointment of all the Gryffindors. And much to Harry's distress, Cho had taken the loss particularly hard as she had been within striking range of the snitch twice during the match and both times, she had lost her nerve at the last second. Indeed, so depressed was she that Care of Magical Creatures was beginning to get rather dull. Usually, this was the class during which Alison and Cho discussed *ahem* boys, much to Oliver's discomfort, but lately, Alison found Cho increasingly reluctant to participate in one of these conversations. However, as the days passed with increasing excitement about the upcoming festivities, even she began to think less about the humiliating loss at the hands of Slytherin and more about the dance competition and the ensuing ball.
After much persuasion, Alison convinced Harry to try his luck at asking Cho to the ball. The expression on his face when he asked her if he could talk to her in private was particularly priceless, being a curious combination of apprehension and unbridled terror. To his shock, Cho accepted the invitation without so much as a moment's hesitation. Needless to say that once the initial shock of her acceptance wore off, he was up on cloud nine for quite a while. At about the same time, Ron finally summoned up the courage to do something that he had been contemplating for a while and asked Hermione to go the ball with him. The outcome was the same, though Rom was not completely shocked when Hermione accepted as the attraction between the two had been apparent for quite a while. With everyone else pairing up, Alison began to worry that Oliver might end up going to the ball with someone else and that she might end up all on her own. At the same time, the thought of going stag to the ball was not as daunting as asking Oliver to accompany her for this special occasion. As the days passed by and the ball drew closer, Alison's niggling worry turned into full blown panic and she began to walk around with a look of suffering on her face. Despite Harry encouraging her to ask Oliver to the ball, she just couldn't bring herself to do it.
However, all the worry was for nothing as a week before the actual ball, Professor Agallant called a meeting for all the competitors and told them that for convenience sake it might be best for them to go to the ball with their dance partners, unless other arrangements had already been made. In addition, he ensured them that they could wear jeans for the actual dance competition, which was to be held at 4:30 pm. This, he promised, would give them a minimum of one hour to get ready for the ball, which would start at 8:30 pm. Both of these, particularly the first took a huge load off Alison's mind. Not that she needed to have worried. Oliver had not even contemplated going to the ball with someone else, and it was not for lack of offers from the other girls in the school. Worst come to worst, he would have asked Alison himself.
At the meeting, Alison noticed that the couple for Slytherin was Marcus Flint and Drucilla Perkins. Drucilla Perkins, a seventh year who sat behind Alison in Potions, was a particularly vile species of 'bitch'. Angelina swore that if someone were to look up the word in the dictionary, they would find Drucilla's picture next to it. That was not to say that she wasn't pretty. In fact, she was probably one of the most attractive girls in the school after Alison. With her layered blonde hair and blue green eyes, Alison had heard that she had ruled the roost before she arrived. The fact that Alison had now taken over didn't help. Drucilla had been particularly vindictive right from the word go, and that day at the meeting, she had been in prime form. After professor Agallant had finished making his announcements, and Alison and Oliver were leaving the classroom, Drucilla had looked Alison up and down before turning to Marcus and saying, 'isn't is tacky how some brown people think they are pretty…I mean, they're brown for god's sake! Don't you agree, Marcus?' although Marcus thought Alison was absolutely gorgeous, he couldn't possibly tell anyone that! So he replied, in as cutting a voice as he could muster, 'Bloody pagans!'
Fortunately for him, neither Alison nor Oliver heard this little exchange, but unfortunately, Professor Agallant certainly did and he nearly exploded with anger. His voice trembling with rage, he sentenced both Marcus and Drucilla to a month of detention helping Filch with any jobs that he might need done. Seething, he added, 'If I had my way, I'd make sure that the two of you were disqualified…but I look forward to watching you being humiliated.'
Flint's froze in an expression of shock…he could not believe that a teacher had actually said that to him. Drucilla, on the other hand, burst into tears, covering her face with her hands, before turning and running out of the room. With a hateful glance back at Professor Agallant, Flint chased after Drucilla; he couldn't have his partner in tears so soon before the actual competition. Professor Agallant watched after them, his lip curled in distaste. As he turned back to his desk, he hoped that Alison and Oliver did actually win, or else, he would never be able to face Flint again. Then, the image of Alison dancing appeared in his mind's eye and any doubts that he might have had were immediately banished.
As the dance competition drew closer, Alison began to work harder and harder. She was determined to make sure that their group dance was the best. She worked all day choreographing new steps, making minor changes to the dance and then she worked all night trying to complete her fast growing heap of homework. Three days before the dance, the strain began to show and Oliver began to get really worried, so worried that he offered to do some of her homework for her. To his extreme annoyance, Alison turned down his generous offer and it was then that he decided that the time had come to take extreme measures. That night, after Alison had gone to her dorm, Oliver sat down and wrote a note canceling Quidditch practice for the next morning. He then stuck it up by the fireplace, in a prominent position, so as to attract people's attention towards it. Satisfied with his work, he made his way up to Alison's dorm. As softly as he could, he pushed open the door and then, cautiously, peered around the doorframe. He saw Alison hunched up on her bed, furiously scribbling something on a piece of parchment. Silently, he tiptoed over to her. When he was about two paces away from her, she stiffened and then whirled around. When she saw that it was only Oliver, she let out a huge sigh of relief. She moved over and then motioned for him to sit on the bed next to her. When he shook his head, she looked at him with a puzzled expression on her face. In a low voice, he said, 'Come with me, I want to show you something.'
She opened her mouth to protest, but Oliver placed his finger on her lips, silencing her. Then he grasped her hand firmly, and led her out of the dorm. Once outside the dorm, Alison pleaded with Oliver to let her go back inside but he refused point blank to let her do so. In a serious voice, he said, 'Here, put on this sweater and then I want to show you something.' The look on Oliver's face kept Alison from protesting too much. She just grumbled and muttered under her breath to show her disapproval of the whole charade.
Finally, she was ready to go and Oliver led her out of the portrait hole and then down a corridor that Alison had never seen before. Before long, they came to a painting of a bowl of fruit. Oliver reached out and tickled the pair. Then, to Alison's immense amazement, the pear turned into a green doorknob. Her jaw dropped open as Oliver grasped the door handle and pushed. The whole wall in front of them opened up, and as the room behind the wall came into view, Alison gasped and her eyes widened. Behind her, Oliver grinned at her reaction. It was exactly as he had pictured it.
Alison could not believe her eyes as she took in the almost angelic scene in front of her. The door did not open into a room as she had expected, but rather onto a balcony…a balcony with the most gorgeous view of the lake. But it wasn't the view that captivated Alison, but rather the vast multitude of plants that occupied the balcony. In one corner stood the most magnificent rose bush, covered in roses the color of blood. Directly opposite, towered a huge tree with pure white blossoms. As alison looked around, flowers of all colours came into view, yellow, pink, blue and even violet. She stood as if in a trance, wondering how no one had ever told her of this marvelous place. Suddenly, she became aware of Oliver standing very close behind her. She turned around to find him standing inches away from her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from her body. The look of concern in Oliver's deep brown eyes was apparent at this proximity and softly, he said, 'We have to talk.' He led her over to a secluded corner of 'The Secret Garden' and to Alison's surprise, she saw a white cloth had been laid out on the ground. Unperturbed, Oliver flopped down on the white cloth and beckoned for Alison to do the same. When Alison sat down, Oliver whispered, 'We need to talk….'
'about what?,' interrupted Alison.
'…about you!' exploded Oliver. Seeing the startled look on her face, he took a deep breath and then continued, 'you're working too hard….i know that you're just trying to make our group the best for this competition, but Alison, its not as important as you make this out to be.' Noticing that Alison was about to protest, he pressed on, 'Look, I know what it's like to be under pressure…I'm the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, for god's sake! For the past three years, I've been pressurized to win the Cup, and it just hasn't worked out. But I know where to draw the line. I would never ever consider staying up all night to think up new Quidditch strategies. And that's your problem. You take things too seriously, you have to learn to let things go, relax a bit! I'm your best friend and I'm probably the only one who noticed that your grades have been slipping over the past two or three days. This may technically only be your sixth year, but if you want to graduate with us, with me, you have to keep up your academic standard and…'
'How the fuck am I supposed to keep that up when you're not letting me work, and you're always nagging me about getting to sleep?' yelled Alison. 'I have to make this group the best, Oliver, I have to! That's just the way I am, and that takes a lot of work, so much work that the only time I get t do my school work is at night! What else can I do?' Alison's voice cracked and tears began to flow down the sides of her face. Sobs racked her body and her breath came in rattling gasps. Before she knew it, she felt Oliver's arms around her, pulling her close to him. Slowly, he wiped the tears from her face and began to stroke her hair. 'Don't worry bout a thing…I'll help, with your school work, with the dance competition, with everything!' Alison suddenly remembered something and she pulled away from Oliver. Wiping her tear stained face with the back of her hand, she whispered, 'Oliver, I really appreciate the talk, and I really appreciate your concern, but I have to finish that essay for Snape or else he'll slap with a detention…please, let me go!' A grin appeared on Oliver's face as he drew a piece of parchment from his pocket and said, 'Like I said, don't worry about it…I've already done it for you!' Alison snatched the piece of paper, and her mouth dropped open as she saw an entire page filled with HER tiny handwriting. She looked at Oliver in search of an explanation, and Oliver exclaimed, 'God, you really are slipping, don't you remember the charm that Professor Flitwick taught us that allows us to copy people's handwriting? Tut, tut, Alison!' Alison burst into laughter at his comical impression of Professor McGonagall. Without thinking, she leaned over and kissed him, passionately, deeply. When she pulled away, Oliver didn't say a word, but instead said, 'I don't believe that you're gonna go back to your dorm and sleep, so just to make sure, you're gonna sleep here.' Alison looked at him skeptically, and raised her eyebrow. Oliver noticed the look and grinned. In a slightly suggestive voice, he murmured, 'Well, unless you had something else is mind, of course.' Alison tried her best to look disapproving at the innuendo but failed miserably as she burst into laughter. Very soon, the both of them were bent over double with mirth. When finally they calmed down, Alison turned to go. She had almost reached the portrait hole that led back out into the corridor, when she felt Oliver's fingers close around her wrist. Slightly quizzical, she turned around and was about to plead with Oliver to let her go, when she saw the look in his eyes. It wasn't one of longing, or desire, or even lust. It was a look of concern, an emotion that was emphasized by his next words. So softly that she had to strain to catch his words, he whispered, 'Alison, I'm worried about you!' Alison's heart filled with warmth and love and she realized that she felt so complete with him. She felt like nothing else in the world mattered, like the only thing that mattered was that she be there with him. A tiny voice in her head reminded her that whoever the boy was, the consequences of spending the night with a member of the opposite sex could be dire. Almost immediately, though, another voice countered it by saying that this boy would never ever do anything to hurt her. Smiling at Oliver, she let him lead her back to the white sheet on the ground. Together, they sat down on the sheet, and Oliver put his arm around Alison's shoulders. At first, Alison was a little stiff, but the feel of Oliver's hand resting across her shoulders, as he stared out at the star-studded lake, relaxed her. Tentatively, she rested her head against Oliver's chest and to her amusement, she felt his heart pounding in his chest, in rhythm with hers. Oliver leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Soon, his heartbeat slowed down and his chest began to rise and fall at regular intervals. Alison could feel her eyes closing, and as she drifted off to sleep, she promised herself that whatever happened, and whatever the consequences, she would tell Oliver of her feelings by the night before graduation.
Oliver awoke the next morning to find himself lying flat on his back. He squinted his eyes against the glare of the rising sun and slowly all the shapes around him came into view. When he saw the plants and the bushes, for a split second, he couldn't remember what he was doing there. Then, as he felt a hand brush against his chest, the events of the previous night came flooding back to him. His heart soared as he turned his head and saw Alison lying with her face turned to him. Her eyes were still closed, but with the light of the sun falling on her mocha skin, she looked like an angel. Her skin glowed, and her hair shone in the light. It took all of Oliver's willpower to stop himself from running his fingers through her silky hair. He must have lain there for about half an hour watching her sleep. He was consumed with his love for her; he loved the way she smiled, he loved the way she looked when she got angry, he even loved the way her eyelids fluttered when she was sleeping. Suddenly, her eyelids flew open and she was looking right at him. Her first expression mirrored one of panic, but as she realized that she was indeed fully dressed, a smile began to dawn on her face. Oliver could not help but grin back. All of a sudden, Alison jerked up and looked at her watch. Her eyes widened and a look of disbelief on her face, she breathed, 'Oh, Jesus!' Puzzled, Oliver glanced down at his own watch, and he did a double take. They had five minutes to get ready and go down to breakfast. Oliver's body clock had never let him down before…obviously there was more than one thing that Alison's presence threw out of whack.
Both of them rushed out of the balcony and into the corridor before beginning to sprint down its length. They reached the portrait of Fat Lady two minutes later, panting and covered in sweat. The Fat Lady seemed mighty interested in where they had been all night and why they were sweating so hard, but Alison did not feel like explaining at that point in time. The both of them burst into the common room to find it completely empty. they made their way to their respective dorms and within forty five seconds Alison was down again, only now she was wearing her uniform. Or at least, part of it. Her tie was undone and she carried her shoes and socks in her hand, desperately clutching her book bag in the other. Oliver, on the other hand, looked far more presentable. Looking down at his watch, he predicted that it would take them thirty seconds to get to the Great Hall if they ran like they had never run before. That still left them with a minute and a half to spare. Dumping his own bag on the ground, he strode over to Alison and snatched the tie from around her neck. He then proceeded to tie it very efficiently. In the meantime, Alison pulled on her socks and then her shoes. She turned towards the portrait hole to leave, when Oliver caught hold of her, by the waist and pulled her close towards him. Unsure of what he had in mind, Alison hesitated, but much to her relief, all he did was run his fingers through her hair, in an attempt to make it look somewhat more presentable.
As Oliver ran his fingers through her silky smooth hair, he felt a surge of elation rush through his entire being. He was so close to her, that he could feel her breath on his neck and he could smell the peppermint scent of her toothpaste. All the emotions, all the desires that he had tried to quell during their night together in paradise threatened to surface. It took all of Oliver's willpower to keep from opening his heart to her, right there and then, and as he let go of her and followed her out through the portrait hole, he smirked inwardly. "Who says men are testosterone driven animals", he thought to himself, as he mentally congratulated himself on conquering his desires.
They arrived outside the Great Hall, just in time to see Professor McGonagall closing the gigantic doors. Smiling inwardly at their slightly tousled appearance, Professor McGonagall let them pass through. Obviously, this relationship had gone a lot farther than she had expected it to. Running her hands through her knotted hair, Oliver followed Oliver to the Gryffindor table, trying her level best to ignore the hoots and whistles that were sounding all around her. As she passed Professor Lupin, who was seated at the teacher's table next to Professor Dumbledore, he raised his eyebrows questioningly, a slight smile forming on his lips. Alison realized in horror that Remus would tell her father at the first possible opportunity.
When they sat down at the Gryffindor table, no one said anything for about five seconds. Then, Alicia said, rather slyly, 'Sleep well, did you, Alison??' Alison's faced burned with embarrassment as she tried to think of something witty to say, but her usually nimble mind seemed to have been scrambled by the events of the previous night. She opened her mouth to tell Alicia to mind her own business, when Oliver said, 'Yeah, she did sleep well! She hadn't been sleeping at all for the past three days, so I took her to Madame Pomfrey, who gave her some sleeping potion. I went to get her this morning and it took her a while to get up and that's why we're late.' All of this was said in a very firm voice, and no one dared to question him. Alicia's face fell and she glanced over at Angelina and Katie in disappointment; they had obviously though that their plan to get Oliver and Alison together had failed. They all went back to eating as George and Fred imitated their girlfriends' voices as they found Alison's bed empty that morning, only to receive sharp slaps from the girls concerned. Everyone went back to eating, but Alison still felt slightly uncomfortable…she had, after all, spent the night with a boy, a boy that she was intensely attracted to. Besides, no one at any of the other tables had heard Oliver's explanation, so they were bound to think that something had happened during the night. Oliver noticed the worried look on Alison's face, and placed his hand on her thigh to comfort her. He was most amused to find that the muscles in her legs were taught. Trust Alison to get rattled over a little thing like this. But little did he know that it wasn't what the rest of the student body though that was making Alison uncomfortable, but rather the thought of her father's reaction. She was almost sure that Professor Lupin would tell him, not out of vindictiveness, of course, but out of concern for alison's well being.
As Alison looked around the table, she noticed that the only person who did not seem convinced of their innocence was Harry. He looked at Alison meaningfully and with a slight jerk of his head, indicated that he needed to talk to her. Silently, she acknowledged his request, and then continued to eat. When she got up to leave, she noticed Professor Lupin striding towards her, a look of determination on his face. Softly, he murmured, 'We need to talk!' before walking out of the Great Hall. Alison watched him go and shook her head in disbelief; she now had to talk to two people about what had really happened the previous night. Turning around, she prodded Oliver hard in the back, causing him to yelp in pain. Seeing the look on her face, he hastily gulped down the remnants of his juice, before wiping the crumbs off his robes and standing up. They had almost reached the doors of the Great Hall, when they were joined by some of Oliver's friends, including a very pale Cedric. They insisted that they talk to Oliver alone, and finally Oliver conceded, glancing apologetically back at Alison. Alison didn't even need to think about what they could possibly want to ask Oliver about. It made her sick to think that people thought that Oliver and she had made love. Not that the prospect seemed sickening, now that she came to think of it. But before she could dwell on this thought, she was joined by Harry, who whispered, 'we'd better get out of here, fast, or else, Ron and Hermione might catch up to us.' When he saw the puzzled look on Alison's face, he added condescendingly, 'well, you don't want them to know about your feelings for Oliver, do you??' Shaking her head vigourously, Alison quickened her pace, with Harry trotting alongside her. When they were out of earshot of everyone else, Harry practically yelled, 'what the hell is wrong with you??? Have you lost your mind? How could you think of sleeping with him, you're not even legal yet! You could get pregnant! You could get some sort of disease, you could…' he trailed off, and Alison couldn't keep from grinning at his concern for her. When he saw the smile on her face, Harry growled, 'Oh, you think it's funny, do you??' But before he could continue, Alison clapped her hand over his mouth and said, 'For god's sake, Harry! What do you take me for, a fool? Even if I were to sleep with him, which I didn't, but even if I did, don't you think I would have the sense to use protection? Anyway, we didn't have sex! He was just worried about me, so he took me to this place, and he made sure that I actually slept and that I didn't work through the night! That's all that happened last night!! THAT'S ALL!!'
Harry's face that had previously been contorted with disbelief relaxed as he realized that Alison was telling the truth. He let out a huge sigh, as this realization dawned on him, and then, in a quiet voice, he said, 'you might wanna explain that to Lupin; he was so worried about you! he was beside himself with worry!!'
'Yeah, I'll talk to him in lunch! I just hope he hasn't told dad that I spent the night getting jiggy with some guy!'
Harry burst into laughter at the thought of Lupin telling Sirius that. He could just imagine the look of shock on Sirius's face as he tried to comprehend what his long time friend was telling him. Alison tried her best to remain solemn, but the sight of Harry bent over nearly double with mirth was more than enough to set her off. And truthfully, they looked a sight. They were both roaring with laughter, clutching each other's shoulders to keep from falling over!
Oliver was trying to walk up the stairs as fast as he possibly could. In his opinion, the faster he walked, the sooner he would get to class and the sooner he would escape the Spanish Inquisition. But Cedric was having none of it. He grabbed hold of the back of Oliver's robes, and forced him to slow down. No sooner had Oliver slowed his pace than he began to be pelted with questions asking him for the truth about what happened the previous night. Realising that there was no escaping this, he told them exactly what had happened. And to his immense annoyance, not one of them believed him. In an incredulous voice, Cedric asked, 'So, you expect us to believe that you just spent the night with the hottest girl any of us has ever seen, and you didn't even kiss her?? What do you take us for?'
At the mention of a kiss, Oliver recalled the brief, but passionate kiss that he had shared with Alison in the Secret Garden. His moment of hesitation did not go unnoticed. Cedric's eyes widened as he practically yelled, 'So you did have sex!!!'
'NO, WE DID NOT! we just…'
'Just what??'
'You know…we just kissed, just once…'
'You LUCKY son of a BITCH!! That girl is a babe!'
'Shut up, man…I think…I think…'
'What????'
'I think…I love her…'
'What the fuck are you talking about???? You can't be in love with her!! She's the first girl you've ever dated; hell, you don't even KNOW what love is!!'
Oliver's eyes glazed over and he said, in a voice that none of his friends had ever heard him use, 'Love is when you would do anything for a person, and not expect anything in return. It's when the only thing that makes you happy is being there next to her and seeing her smile. Love is when you're willing to give up anything and everything just to be with her. It's when you're willing to climb the highest mountain and swim the deepest seas, just to reach her. And when you kiss her, the whole world fades away and the only two people that matter are the two of you…'
Cedric shook his head in disbelief; he could not believe that Oliver, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, was so absolutely besotted with a girl. But then again, Alison was not just any girl; she was a class above the rest. When Cedric finally did manage to get over his shock, he said, in an awed voice, 'God, you really are in love…but does she know?'
'I don't knows…I mean, she must know, right? We kissed, and it wasn't the first time…'
Before Cedric could voice his disbelief at not having been informed of these proceedings, Flint came up from behind them and said, 'Congratulations, Wood! That girl is the prize catch!' With that he walked off, and Oliver stared after his retreating back: he couldn't believe that Flint had directed a compliment at him. Sniggering, Cedric said, 'Now that really emphasizes how lucky you are…even Marcus Flint couldn't deny it.'
Oliver grinned, but his insides were churning uncomfortable. He wanted to take what Flint had said as a complement and leave it at that, but there had been something in his eyes that worried him. There had been a glint of malice, maybe even a warning. As far as he could remember, Flint had always tried to hurt Oliver, by doing whatever was necessary. In their first year, he had broken Oliver's wand and made it seem like Cedric had done it. On the Quidditch pitch, they had always been archrivals, gunning for each other's throats. But the memory that chilled Oliver to the bone was the way Flint always tried to take what Oliver had. Flint's desire to take away anything and everything that was important to Oliver, coupled with his hatred for Alison, could not bear well for his best friend. As Oliver walked into Greenhouse Number 3 for their Hufflepuff lesson, he resolved to watch over Alison, and above all, keep her away from Marcus Flint. But what Oliver did not know was that he was up against the combined power of hatred and lust, a deadly combination indeed.
Alison was puzzled by Oliver's behaviour during Herbology. He was being especially nice, offering to clean up any blots of ink on her parchments, and even going to the extent of making sure that she got the nicest gloves. Obviously, Cedric had said something to him that had twisted his brain. At least, that was how she saw it. So after class, she told Oliver that she had to go back to the Common Room to change, and that she'd meet him in the Great Hall in about fifteen minutes. Slightly disgruntled, Oliver trotted off to the Great Hall with Angelina by his side. As soon as he was out of sight, Alison set off in the opposite direction. She didn't have very far to go before she found Cedric, knelt over in the corridor, tying his shoelace. Slightly startled, he asked, 'What's the matter? Are you lost??'
'No, but we need to talk about something…'
'Umm…I'm getting some really mixed signals, I thought you didn't like me!'
'I DON'T! At least, not as a potential boyfriend! I just wanted to know what you said to Oliver that's making him act this weird.'
'What do you mean?'
'Like, he's being really nice!'
'Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, the guy might like you??'
'Of course he likes me! I'm his best friend…'
'No, I mean, really like you, the way I like you'
'Oh…'
Alison's face coloured, partly because even Cedric seemed to think that something had happened between Oliver and her, and party because he had just admitted to liking her. Cedric saw the uncomfortable expression on her face and grinned. In a soft voice, he said, 'Hell, don't worry about it! You were the first girl who ever turned me down, but I guess it had to happen sooner or later…I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you. So, you coming to the Great Hall or what?'
'Actually, I've got to go talk to Professor Lupin…you know, about the homework. Could you tell Oliver that I'll see him in Potions?'
'Sure, not a problem. I'll see you around.'
Alison watched him stroll down the corridor, and despite herself, could not help but admire the physique that made him one of the prize catches at Hogwarts. Her eyes strayed down to his firm behind and she could not help but giggle at the expression on Alicia's face as she described what Cedric looked like in his boxers. Alison had not wanted to know how Alicia had managed to view Cedric in all his splendour. But before she could dwell on the thought of seeing Cedric in his boxers, the image of Oliver dressed in nothing but a fluffy white bath towel and bathroom slippers floated into her mind, and any thoughts of Cedric were firmly and surely expelled. Suddenly realizing that she had just stood around for about five minutes, she began to walk down the corridor towards the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom, and three minutes later, she was standing outside the large wooden door. Before she could knock, the door swung open revealing Professor Lupin, and a very grave looking Professor Lupin at that. Without a word, he beckoned her into the classroom and gestured for her to close the door behind her. The sunlight filtering in through the slotted windows threw Professor Lupin's features into sharp relief and emphasized the look of worry in his eyes. in a solemn voice, he said, 'Alison, I know that I am not your father, but I am one of his closest friends. And in a way, that makes me one of your closest uncles. Believe me when I say that I take this duty seriously. Your father was unable to be here, though it was not for want of things to say to you. He had PLENTY to say. So he has given me the privilege to say them for him. Firstly,' and he held up a hand when Alison started to protest at being treated like a criminal being read her rights, 'Firstly, I want you to know that here, in England, the legal age for *ahem* sexual intercourse is 18. And the penalties for breaking that law are severe. But even more severe than any punishments that the Ministry of Magic might impose upon you are the consequences of unprotected sex. You could get pregnant, or even worse, you might get a sexually transmitted disease. Do you have any idea how awful that would…' Before he could finish his sentence, Alison interrupted in a very bored voice, saying, 'But we didn't have sex…he just wanted to make sure that I slept that night, instead of staying awake doing my homework. Like I told Harry, I am aware of the consequences, and even if I were to have sex with Oliver, I would not be so stupid as to do so without some form of protection, magical or otherwise.'
'So what you are telling me is that you spent the night with a boy that you are intensely attracted to and absolutely nothing happened? and you expect me to believe that? Honestly, Alison, if you are going to lie, at least show me the respect of coming up with a believable one.
'But that is seriously what happened,' pleaded Alison. She could not believe that Professor Lupin was refusing to believe her. Professor Lupin's expression hardened at Alison's insistence that nothing untowardly had happened between Oliver and herself. He looked at her and said, 'Alison, this is your last chance to tell the truth…'
Alison looked him right in the eye and exclaimed, 'I SWEAR!!! Why wont you believe me??'
'I suppose there's really only one way to find out…' with that, Lupin raised his wand high in the air and then brought it down over Alison's head, muttering a spell under his breath. Alison's mouth dropped open, in horror as she felt herself burst into yellow gold flames. Lupin's eyes widened as he watched the flames envelope Alison's body. Within thirty seconds, the flames had changed colour to blue green. When the flames finally did die down, Alison looked around her in surprise. She had never imagined that being surrounded by flames could be quite so enjoyable. With a skeptical look on her face, she asked, 'well, are you satisfied now? Whatever that little test was, I hope that it proved my innocence…' her voice trailed off when she saw the grave look on Lupin's face. His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he said, 'So you've never had sex? That's strange because the flames just turned blue green…you have no idea what that means, do you?'
Alison could not believe what she was hearing. Lupin was refusing staunchly to believe her, and somehow the charm that he had just cast on her seemed to be indicating that she had indeed had sex. Her mind spun as she tried to remember what had happened the previous night, and her heart skipped a beat when she realized how easy it would have been for Oliver to drug her. As soon as the thought occurred to her, she pushed it away as firmly as she could. Oliver would never harm her, would he? Trying to hide her confusion, Alison responded in an equally sarcastic voice, 'Well, perhaps you could explain what the 'blue green' flames meant, instead of accusing me of doing something that I would never ever do, not in a hundred years!'
Lupin's eyes hardened and he took a deep breath. In as calm a voice as he could muster while fighting the rage that was welling up within him, he said, 'The blue green flames mean that you aren't a virgin, and that you've had sex before. That's what they mean. And yet, you stand here, cool as a cucumber, trying to convince me that you never have had sex. You must really think I'm…'
Alison's quivering voice interrupted him and she said, 'This charm, does it have a time limit?'
'What do you mean?'
'I mean, does it only show if I've had sex, or does it show if I've had sex in the past month or so?'
'Just whether you've had sex…but how does that matter? You're not eighteen now, and I'm hoping that if you ever have had sex, it was last night, or else you're in even bigger trouble, young lady.'
Alison's face paled as Professor Lupin continued to talk. The realization that this charm did not differentiate between rape and consensual sex hit her with the force of a giant sledgehammer. She realized that there was no way that she was going to get out of this without telling Professor Lupin that she had been raped. Just the thought of telling him her secret terrified her. She had no idea how he would react, let alone her father. If Oliver had reacted so protectively, she couldn't bear to think of what her father might do. As these thoughts raced through her head, she did not notice the tears that were running down the sides of her. She was jolted from her thoughts by Professor Lupin's hand on hers. In a gentle voice, he asked, 'Is something wrong…don't cry, please. Look, I didn't mean to sound so harsh, it's just that I promised your father that I would look after you. And I think I have a right to be worried about this.'
Rubbing the back of her hand across her tear stained face, Alison whispered, 'I was raped.' Professor Lupin's reaction was instantaneous. His face darkened like a thundercloud and he clenched his jaw. Between gritted teeth, he muttered, 'And I thought Oliver was a decent chap.'
He stood up and headed for the door, but before he could turn the handle, he felt Alison's fingers close around his wrist. Silently, she shook her head, before murmuring, 'it wasn't Oliver…Oliver would never hurt me. It was this boy at my old school. That's why I asked if there was a time limit…it happened about six months ago.' Lupin let out his breath in aloud whoosh, and looked deep into her eyes as if to fathom whether or not she was telling the truth. When he saw the pain mirrored in her raven black eyes, he decided that no one, not even Alison, was as good an actress as all that. Without a word, he put his arms around her and held her close.
As she pulled away from him, Alison had a huge smirk on her face. She could feel the guilt radiating from Lupin's body and she was going to milk it for all it was worth. Putting on the most wounded expression that she could under the circumstances, she said tearfully, 'I cant believe that you thought I had slept with Oliver. What hurts even more is the fact that you wouldn't believe me when I said that I hadn't. And you had to resort to some unreliable charm.'
Lupin had felt low plenty of times in his life, like when he realized that he was the reason that Sirius had broken up with his fiancée. But the pained expression on Alison's face made him feel like the slimiest worm on the face of the planet. Guilt washed over him, like an unwelcome wave, and he opened his mouth to say sorry. But before he did, he stole another look at Alison, and to his extreme annoyance, saw a twinkle in her eyes. Faint as it was, it was definitely there. Exasperated, he shook his head and this was all Alison could take. She burst out laughing and after trying for thirty seconds to keep a straight face, Professor Lupin joined in as well.
When he finally stopped laughing, he said, with as straight a face as he could manage, 'I really am sorry that I doubted you, Alison. I should have known that you would never sleep with Oliver.'
Chuckling, Alison replied, 'well, I certainly hadn't thought about it earlier, but now that everyone thinks that I already did, I might as well sleep with him…what do you think?'
'I think you're delirious! Now off to lunch with you, or Prince Charming might get worried.'
'Aren't you coming?'
'No, I've got myself a sandwich,' jerking his head at a package that lay on his desk.
Nodding, Alison walked out of the DADA class and her spirits rising with each step, she made her way to the Great Hall.
She was halfway there when she saw a person whose face she had begun to dread because it was inevitably accompanied by a rude remark or an insult. Marcus Flint was coming down the corridor and surprisingly, he was all alone. Usually, he was with one or both of his cronies. Even more surprising was the expression on his face when he saw Alison striding towards him, trying her best to ignore him. As Alison strode past him, she thought she caught a hint of smile. She thought that she was home and free, when she felt his clammy fingers close around her wrist in an iron grip. She whirled around, revved up to tell him exactly what she thought of him, only to find the strangest expression on his face. It took her a few moments to realize that it was only strange because she had never seen Marcus Flint grinning before. In a voice that sent shivers up her spine, he said, 'You know, Alison…if we just put our differences aside, we might have more in common than you could imagine. Why don't we give it a shot, huh?' Alison watched in horror as he closed in on her, licking his lips. She willed her body to move, but she seemed paralyzed, transfixed to the spot with terror. As he drew closer, she could smell the alcohol on his breath, and the fumes were so strong that they made her head spin. She could see the look in his muddy brown eyes and her skin crawled as she saw the desire burning in them. Before she could do anything, he pulled out his wand and pointing it at her, he muttered, 'Petrificus Totalus!' Alison felt as though she had been frozen, and she tried in vain to move her arms. But it was all to no avail. A sneer spread across Flint's twisted face as he said, 'It's no use struggling…I've always cast the most effective full body locks. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to resort to such, ah, extreme measures. But you forced my hand. Such a pity, you know.'
Alison tried to scream, but she couldn't seem to open her mouth. Her face contorted in terror, as Flint ran his fingers along the sides of her body. Roughly, he grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips against hers, his lust for her becoming increasingly evident with each passing second. Alison had never felt so utterly helpless. As far as she could see, there was no way out of this. Not the one. Flint pushed her body against the wall and pressed his own up against hers. To her horror, she could feel his hands lifting up her robe, and moving up her legs. Their cold touch against her skin heightened her panic, and if she could, she would have been screaming at the top of her lungs.
After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably a few seconds, Alison heard someone clearing their throat loudly, above the roar of rushing blood in her ears. Her eyes were blurry and she could just make out the shape of a boy, about Harry's height. Her heart leaped at the thought that maybe, perhaps, it was indeed Harry, come to rescue her. But as the boy wrenched Flint off her, and her vision cleared, she saw Draco's flushed face looking back at her. Cussing loudly, Flint tried to shake Draco off, but when he did finally manage to get free, he saw, to his disgust, that Draco was holding two wands: his own, and Flint's. And at that moment, both wands were pointed squarely at Flint's chest. Flint's eyes were burning were hatred at the rude interruption, but when he saw the look of determination on Draco's face, he lowered his eyes. Still watching Flint like a hawk, he pointed one of the wands at Alison and murmured the counter curse for the full body lock. All of a sudden, Alison could move again, but instead of racing down the corridor, like her brain was willing her to, she just sank to floor in a crumpled heap, the tears streaming down the sides of her face. Looking gratefully up at Draco, she began to thank him, when he said to Flint, in a voice that was utterly devoid of emotion, 'When I make a plan, I don't expect it to be ruined, especially not by you. Pull yourself together, man!' Then, throwing a contemptuous glance at Alison, he added, 'we'll deal with the unfinished business later…' Looking slightly shamed, Flint nodded and then slouched off down the corridor, followed closely by Draco. As a parting shot, Draco murmured, 'I'd watch my step if I were you, Adams…'
Alison's body racked with silent sobs as she watched Draco and Flint retreat into the distance. Her body began to throb with pain, and as she looked down at her arms, she could see that there were deep scratches on them, courtesy of Marcus Flint. Her legs still tingled from where he had touched her, and try as she might, she could not push the image of his vile face out of her mind. Draco's words echoed in her mind, as she tried valiantly to stand up. Pushing her damp, sweaty hair out of her face, she began to stagger towards the hall. She was almost there, when she realized that Oliver would want to know exactly what had happened if he saw the scars on her arms. The image of Oliver's handsome face drifted into her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder how he would react if he found out what Flint had done, or at least, tried to do. Resolutely, she decided that the last thing that she needed was for Oliver to fuel Flint's hatred for her, and so she did an about face and walked off in the direction of the hospital wing.
Madame Pomfrey's face registered horror when she saw Alison's battered arms. In a hushed voice, she asked, 'My dear child, what on earth happened?'
Alison had prepared herself for this question and in as steady a voice as she could manage, she said, 'I was on my broomstick and I lost control. I just hurtled into the wall of the castle. I'm lucky that this is all that happened, really.'
Madame Pomfrey looked at her skeptically and said, 'Well, a broomstick. And here I was, thinking that these were nail marks…you have to admit, though, these are rather deep for a collision into one of the castle walls.
Alison could see that Madame Pomfrey was groping, but she stuck resolutely to her story. In a flat voice, she just repeated what she had said earlier. Slightly annoyed, Madame Pomfrey bustled away to find some potion to heal the cuts. As she was rummaging through her drawers, Seamus Finnigan from Gryffindor walked in, and when he saw Alison, he coloured. He was rumored to have quite a crush on her. But then again, who didn't. His eyes wide, he said, 'Blimey, those are nasty! How'd you get 'em?'
Before Alison could tell him, Mme Pomfrey came back with the potion in her hand and said, 'Oh, she crashed into a wall on her broomstick…rather silly of her, wouldn't you say?'
'Ummm…' Seamus searched desperately for words, but needn't have bothered for he was cut off by Alison's scream of pain, as Mme Pomfrey dabbed the smoking liquid onto her cuts. The scream grew higher and higher in pitch until Seamus had to cover his ears, his face contorted in pain. As the potion dried and evaporated, the cuts disappeared, without so much as a scar.
Alison walked out of the Hospital Wing five minutes later, with Seamus trotting along by her side. In a conversational voice, he asked, 'so, were you with Oliver when you crashed?'
'Huh? Oh…umm…yeah. I was with Oliver.' No sooner had the words left her mouth than she wished that she could take them back. She just hoped that Seamus did not mention anything to Oliver.
For the rest of the day, Alison kept herself to herself. She did not join in the conversations about anything, not even about the dance competition, which was less than two days away. Oliver's puzzlement at her bizarre behaviour rose as the day went by. It had just reached its peak when Alison did not say one word in defense of cricket, her favourite sport in the world, when Oliver and Harry were dissing it. Without a word, she had gotten up from her seat and made her way to her dorm to change. She promised to come back down in time for the dance practice with Oliver, later that night. Oliver and Harry were puzzling over her behaviour, when they were joined by Seamus.
As they were talking, Seamus brought up seeing Alison in the Hospital Wing as well as his surprise that she was not accompanied by either Harry or Oliver. The look of shock on their face at this little revelation did not go unnoticed, and in a condescending tone of voice, Seamus said, 'Well, the lass crashed into the wall, and she was pretty banged up too. Nasty scratches all over her arms.'
'Hold on, she wasn't on her broomstick…and she certainly didn't crash into any walls!' exclaimed Oliver, his face paling.
'Well, how else do you explain the scratches all over her arms?'
'I sure as hell don't know, but I'm gonna find out!' Seamus watched in horror as Oliver sprang up from his chair and stalked to the girls' dorm. Harry made as if to follow him, but a withering glare from Oliver was enough incentive to make him sit right back down again. In a worried voice, Seamus murmured, 'Jesus, I hope I didn't just blow some big secret…'
Shaking his head resignedly, Harry responded, 'I think you just might have done exactly that, Seamus!'
When Oliver reached the door of the dorm, he did not bother to knock, as he knew that Alison was the only one in there. He shoved the door open and barged in, a glower growing on his face. To his annoyance, the dorm was empty. He looked around in disbelief, and was about to leave when Alison came out of the bathroom wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Oliver's eyes widened as he looked at Alison's right thigh. What he saw left his mouth agape, making him look very much like a fish stranded out of water. Alison looked at him, puzzled at the expression on his face. She looked down at her thigh, and to her horror, she saw a huge gash along the length of it, another charitable gift from Marcus Flint. She looked up to find Oliver staring right at her. In an even voice, he said, 'Do you wanna tell me what happened, or am I going to have to find that out from Seamus as well?' The hurt he was feeling was apparent in his voice, and a wave of guilt washed over Alison. But what could she have told him? *Oh, yeah, Oliver, I just thought you should know that Flint tried to rape me. * Yeah right! Oliver made his way to her and sat down on her bed with a thud. Gently, he pulled her down with him. The touch of his fingers on her skin was a complete contrast to that of Marcus Flint. Where Flint had been rough, Oliver was gentle. Where Flint had been harsh, Oliver was caring. Oliver placed his arm around Alison's shoulder and drew her close to him. As the memory of what had happened that afternoon flooded back into her mind like a river breaking through the dam, tears began to flow down her cheeks and onto Oliver's shirt. Instead of drawing away, Oliver simply held her closer, and tenderly wiped away the tears with the tip of his finger.
Through the tears, Alison whispered, 'Flint, he…he tried to hurt me, in lunch today.' She felt Oliver tense up but had she not had her face pressed against his chest, she would never have known from his next words. Stroking the top of her head, he said, 'How did he try to hurt you? Did he hex you, or curse you?'
'He tried to rape me, Oliver…and I couldn't stop him. I was just so helpless...it was almost exactly like the time at my old school. He…he did the Full Body Lock and he very nearly raped me, and then…and then, Draco stopped him…cuz he said he didn't want to ruin the plan…and that they could take care of me later.' At the mention of Flint trying to rape her, Oliver's face flushed with anger and rage began to course through his veins. The blood pounded in his ears and it was all he could do to keep from ferreting out Flint and ripping his head from his torso. Alison could fell Oliver clenching his fists, and the muscles in his protective arms bulging in unison. Sitting there, in Oliver's arms made the whole memory seem so far away. Gently, she pushed Oliver away, and made as if to get up. When Oliver pulled her back down, she exclaimed, 'Oh, c'mon Oliver, we have to practice. We may have it down to a fine science, but we still have to practice.'
'No, not tonight. Tonight you are going to sleep here, and I am going to make sure of that.'
Slightly unsure of where this was going, Alison lay down on the bed, and closed her eyes. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep. The events of the day had completely tired her out. But even after her breath stabilized, and her chest began to mover up and down in a regular rhythm, Oliver did not leave. He just sat by her bed, looking down at her, the expression in his eyes a mixture of pain, worry and anger. When his Chasers came up to bed an hour later, he was still sitting there, silent and unmoving as a statue. The three girls knew better than to disturb him when he was in this sort of a mood. His admonishments could be quite severe when he was in a bad mood. When the first light of dawn filtered through the windows and onto Alison's peaceful face, he was still there. Only now, he was asleep, lying next to Alison in the narrow bed. And somehow, it just seemed right.
The rays of light falling on his face made his eyes flutter open, and look around, a slightly puzzled expression on his face, trying to figure out where on earth he was, and why there was a pair of bright red lacy underwear slung over the post next to the bathroom. Confused, he rolled over in bed, and his eyes widened when he saw the person lying curled up next to him. As he bumped into her, she groaned softly, and snuggled closer to him. In a flood, it all came back to him. Staying by her bed the whole night, because she was so upset. And when he remembered the cause of her upset, anger began to surge through him. His every bone strained to throttle him and break his neck. His palms itched to be around Flint's neck. But he couldn't do that. And why not? Because that's what Alison had made him promise. So he would just have to be content with hating Marcus Flint with every fiber in his body. What a pity. As he looked over at Alison's tranquil features, he had to struggle with himself to pull himself away from her and get out of bed as slowly as possible. The last thing that Alison needed was to have more people tormenting her. He was about halfway to the door of the dorm, when he heard a loud knock. His heart in his mouth, he dived under the nearest bed, which happened to be Alicia's. To his surprise, the door opened slightly. Raising his head slightly, he saw a red head peering around the corner of the door, into the dorm. Oliver realized with horror that it was George, as the red head walked towards the bed under which Oliver was cowering. George disappeared from sight and with rising panic; Oliver tried to figure where he had gotten to. Then he felt a thud on the bed above him, followed by a muffled giggle that sounded suspiciously like Alicia. *Oh, fck…what a time to be caught under Alicia's bed! * As quietly as he could, he plugged his ears with his fingers to try and avoid listening to whatever was going on right above his head. But despite this, he could not block out the suspicious sounding giggles and the creaking sounds being emitted from the bed. About fifteen minutes during which Oliver realized that he would never be able to look either Alicia or George in the eye again, he felt George rolling off the bed, trying to keep from breathing too heavily. Alicia accompanied him to the door and as they shared a passionate kiss (to put it mildly), Oliver covered his eyes. He had known that Alicia and George had been going out for quite a while now, but actually watching them, or hearing them go at it like a couple of horny rabbits made him feel ill to the stomach. He heaved a huge sigh of relief as George finally left. Warily, Oliver glanced over at his watch, and its luminous dial told him that it was almost time for Quidditch practice. And then he remembered that Quidditch practice had been cancelled until further notice from Alison, much to the amusement of the other members of the team. Not that they were complaining. It was one of the rare chances that they got to sleep in. As Oliver watched Alicia lean against the door for what must have been a good two minutes, he hoped that she would go back to sleep. But much to his annoyance, she then proceeded to wake up her three roommates, who all glowered at her annoyingly cheerful mood.
Oliver desperately wanted them all to go to the bathroom, or leave the room so that he could make his getaway. But he was learning the hard way that girls took a LONG time to get dressed, even if it was for school. Keeping as silent as he could, he prayed that no one would notice him. For if they did, he would never hear the end of it.
His heartbeat had just about slowed down to normal, due to the silence in the room, when something lacy, thin and bright blue was tossed on the bed. One end hung over the side of the bed, and he stared at the revealing piece of lingerie in mortification. He hoped that no one would bend down to pick it up, when he heard Katie's voice right above him, asking, 'Hey, has anyone seen my electric blue bra?? I thought I left it on your bed, Alicia!'
Oliver's heart was in his mouth when Alicia replied, 'it must be under the bed…have you checked there?' he took a deep breath and prepared himself for the onslaught that was to follow. He could feel his face turning beet red, and he buried his face in his arms. And waited. Thirty seconds later, the scream still hadn't come. Gingerly, he opened his eyes and to his astonishment, he didn't see any shocked face glaring at him. In fact, the silence in the room was unnerving. He wondered where everyone had gone. He was getting ready to scramble out from beneath the bed and make a dash for the door, when a pair of bare legs appeared in front of his eyes. And very nice legs they were too. As soon as this thought entered his head, Oliver pushed it away. *Don't' be a pervert* he thought to himself. Still, he couldn't help wondering who the legs belonged to. He knew it had to be Alicia, Angelina, or Alison. Katie's skin was nowhere near this dark. Retreating to his curled position, he began to wonder what Cedric would say when he heard about this. He would probably laugh his head off at Oliver getting so worked up. Knowing Cedric, he would probably have just slid out from under the bed, and explained the whole situation without batting an eyelid. Returning to the present, he watched as the legs jumped off the bed and walked towards the door. To his mortification, he realized that whomever the legs belonged to, was wearing nothing but an oversized shirt. With a groan, he wondered to himself why girls could never dress decently when they thought they were alone. Almost at once, his mind flashed back to the time when he had spent the summer with Cedric at his house. With the closest thing to a grin that he could manage at that point, he recalled how they had spent entire days lolling about in Cedric's room, wearing nothing but boxers, and eating spaghetti. Needless to say that after he had dropped the red spaghetti sauce all over his boxers, he could never look Mrs. Diggory in the eye again.
The sound of Alicia's voice jolted him from his reverie and he dared to open his eyes a fraction. To his immense relief, the bare legs had disappeared. He could hear Alicia's saying something about George, and he strained to hear her more clearly. As softly as he could, he shifted his weight to free both of his ears. Once he had done this, he could hear Alicia saying, 'Poor George…he has the most awful bruise on his stomach. I think the bludger must've hit him.'
In a voice that suggested that she already knew the answer, Katie enquired, 'and how, exactly, did you know that?'
Alicia giggled and said, 'Wellll…I don't think you wanna know!'
Even from where Oliver was lying at the other end of the dorm, he could hear Alison gasp and ask, 'you…you've seen George naked?'
Alicia burst out laughing and replied, 'well, actually, the first time I saw George naked was in the showers in the changing room. Angie dared me to go in there when all the guys were still in there…so I did. And I was just kinda skulking around, and I saw them in the showers.'
'NO WAY!!!' Alison yelled. She could not believe that Alicia would do something like that. Beneath the bed not too far away, Oliver felt his face turning red and his ears beginning to burn. He prayed that that had been one of the few occasions when he had stayed outside in the field to try and work out some strategies, but any hope of this sank at Alicia's next words. She said, 'well, anyway, part of the dare was to sneak into the guys changing room, and the other part, was to tell George how I felt, cuz I knew that if I left things up to him, we would still just be flirting with each other. Boys are so spineless that way! Anyway, I wanted to tell him in a way that he would never remember, and I got that chance when everyone left the Changing Room before him and Oliver left George to lock up. So when George went to get his towel from the rack, I sneaked into the showers and on the fogged up mirrors, I wrote Roses are red, violets are blue, you may not know it, but someone loves you.' And then I hid behind the towel rack. You should have seen his expression when he saw the message. He was terrified. He clutched his towel around his waist, and his face went white as a sheet. I felt sorry for him, so I decided to put him out of his misery and so I stepped out from behind the towel rack. If his expression was funny earlier, it was priceless now!!!! From stark white, his face very nearly burst into flames. After assuring him that what I had seen had not deterred me one bit, we kissed, for the first time. And if the changing room was steamy before, it was nothing like when we left!'
'YOU HAD SEX IN THE CHANGING ROOM???'
'Uh-huh…its no big deal, I mean, so did Angie! And Katie did it in the common room!'
'OMIGOD!'
Angelina, Alicia and Katie burst out laughing at Alison's reaction, but her reaction was nothing compared to Oliver's. He made a promise to himself that he was going to make the three girls scrub down the Changing Room without magic, just so that they would think twice before dirtying it again! The thought of Alicia and George doing it in the showers made him cringe. He was seriously contemplating sliding out from under the bed and just making a run for it, when Alicia began to speak again. In a thoughtful voice, she commented, 'Y'know Alison…if I hadn't been so besotted with George, I would definitely have reserved the special treatment for Oliver. I mean, to tell you the truth, he was the reason that I joined the team in the first place. And what I saw in the showers, now THAT was a man! Seriously, Alison, you should consider hooking up with him…he has the most amazing arse…it is fine!'
Oliver could not believe his ears! He wanted the ground to open up beneath him and let him fall through to some underground chamber where he would be safe from these crazy girls. Despite his immense discomfort at hearing things that were obviously not meant for the ears of guys, a small part of him wanted to hear Alison's reply, and it came after a slight hesitation.
'It's…he's Oliver…my best friend, Oliver…not my boyfriend Oliver!'
'He could be your boyfriend and your best friend!'
'But what if something goes wrong? What if we suck as a couple? He's never gonna wanna look at me AGAIN!'
'That is such bullshit! It's obvious the guy loves you…I mean, you've seen the way he reacts when you get hurt. Like his reaction when he found out that some guy at your old school raped you! You owe it to yourselves to give it a try!'
'Oh, god, Alicia! I swear, you're making me out to be this heartless bitch! But if you knew how many times I've thought about him, about us, you wouldn't be so harsh!'
There was a hush and Oliver held his breath…even though he knew that this conversation was not meant for him, he was being put on tenterhooks. He could have kissed Alicia when she asked Alison precisely what he wanted to know: 'the question is, Alison, do you love him?'
'You have no idea…' Alicia interrupted her and stressed, 'Yes…or no?'
In a whisper, Alison replied, 'Yes, I do love Oliver Wood…how could I not? He's smart, he gorgeous, he makes me laugh; he honestly does care about me! What more could I ask for??'
Oliver's heart skipped a beat and he felt light, as though he was flying high in the sky. The girl of his dreams had just admitted to loving him…not Cedric, not Marcus Flint, but him, Oliver Wood! It took all of his strength to keep from jumping out from under the bed and kissing her, right there and then. Instead, he made a resolution: he would tell her at the Halloween Ball.
All the girls went down to the Great Hall and to Alison's bewilderment, Oliver wasn't there. Puzzled, she sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped herself to some cereal. Less than a few minutes later, Oliver came sauntering in. he pretended not to hear Alison's question about his previous whereabouts, and instead concentrated on his food, trying his level best not to think about what he had heard in the dormitory. After the girls had left, he had scrambled out from under the bed, and rushed into his own dorm. To his immense relief, it had been empty and he had been able to shower and change without having to fend off a hundred questions about why he hadn't been in the dorm the previous night. Needless to say that he had checked the whole dorm thoroughly for delinquent spying girls before getting into the shower.
Alison's eyelids fluttered open the next morning, and no sooner had she rubbed the sleep from her eyes that her blood started pumping with adrenalin. This was the big day…the day of the Halloween Ball. She rolled over in bed and squinted at the luminous hands of her alarm clock. They read 5:30 in the morning, and outside the window, all the world was still dark. For a fleeting second, Alison contemplated taking her broom to the Quidditch pitch and flying a few laps to blow off some steam, before the now terrifying image of Marcus Flint burst into her mind like an animal charging in on her private thoughts. The thought of what he might have done to her was more than enough incentive to keep her from going down to the Quidditch pitch.
Instead, she pulled on her most worn pair of jeans under her nightshirt and made her way downstairs to the Common Room. Slowly, she made her way to the armchair closest to the fireplace and was about to sit down, when movement in the next chair caught her attention. She whirled around, and clapped her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. For, there in the armchair sat her father, cool as a cucumber.
He grinned widely at her reaction and then gestured for her to sit down. Taking a deep breath, Alison whispered, 'what in heaven's name do you think you're doing here? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? And how did you get in, anyway?' her father just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before saying, 'Remus gave me the password, and of course I know how dangerous it is. I just wanted to wish you good luck, that's all.'
'Good luck for what?'
'For the competition…it is today, isn't it?'
'Oh, that…yeah, it's today and to tell you the truth, I'm terrified! I've never been terrified of going up on stage before, but this time…I don't know…it's just, it's just different…'
'Because you're dancing with Oliver?'
Alison looked up to see if her father was teasing her, but the look in his eyes was completely serious. Softly, he added, 'Honestly, Alison, I don't know what is holding you back. The boy loves you…and I know that you love him back. Don't deny your emotions, there's no point doing that. Just tell him.'
Silently, Alison nodded. Sirius looked down at his wristwatch and started. He jumped out of the armchair, and began to stride towards the door. Just before he stepped out, he turned back to Alison and pressed a small box into her hands. In a whisper so soft that Alison could barely hear him, he said, 'your mother was going to wear these on our wedding day…she would probably want you to have them.' With that, he stepped out of the portrait hole, and as the portrait swung closed, Alison caught sight of him shrinking into his canine form. Outside dawn was breaking and the fire in the grate burnt low. Alison sat down in an armchair and after hesitating for a moment; she unfastened the clasp of the small box. The lid flew upwards and Alison's breath caught in her throat. Nestled inside the box lay the most perfect earrings. They were like slender rays of moonlight frozen in time as they sparkled by the light of the fire. Afraid that she might lose them, she shut the box, and it was only then that the inscription at the bottom caught her eye. Minute handwriting was engraved into the box, and it read, 'I will always love you…' Alison sighed and wondered if her father knew that she knew the story of what had happened between him and her mother. She leaned back against the headrest of the armchair and closed her eyes. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep. And that was how Oliver found her an hour later. After tossing and turning in bed for what seemed like an eternity, he had decided to get out of bed and do a few laps of the Quidditch Pitch. He would have walked right past Alison had he not heard the contented sigh from somewhere near the fireplace. When he investigated the suspicious noise, he found Alison curled up in the armchair, her silky brown hair hanging over the side. The light danced on the side of her face and Oliver couldn't help but run his finger down the side of her face. His emotions for her were so mixed. There was desire, there was intense friendship, but above all, there was love.
For a second, he considered waking her up, but as she sighed again and turned over, his heart melted. So instead, he lifted her up off the armchair and carried her up the stairs to her dorm. With his shoulder, he pushed the door open and then he placed her down on her bed. Her eyelids fluttered but did not open. He was about to leave, when suddenly, impulsively; he turned back to her and kissed her softly on her lips. When he straightened up, he saw Alicia standing at the bathroom door, smiling knowingly at him. Oliver grinned back, and placed his finger to his lips before making his way out of the dorm and onto the Quidditch Pitch.
An hour later, he was back in the dorm and to his extreme annoyance, everyone was still asleep. He marveled at the fact that his team seemed able to sleep indefinitely despite the fact that on normal days they had to get at the crack of sawn. One would think that their bodies would have become accustomed to the early morning awakenings. However, Oliver had to admit that most of his team spent the first half hour or so of practice dozing while he tried to explain his tactics to them. Some people just weren't appreciated until they died! After pacing around the common room for fifteen minutes, he decided to go for a shower. So, he grabbed his towel, and his robes and headed for the bathroom in his dorm. he was about to turn on the tap when he suddenly remembered Cedric telling him where the Prefects' bathroom was. Grinning widely, he made his way to the statue of Boris the Bewildered, a lost looking wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands. Leaning in towards it, he whispered the password, 'Pine-fresh' and the statue slid out of his way revealing the most magnificent bathroom Oliver had ever seen. It was softly lit by the light of a crystal chandelier and it was made entirely of pure white marble. In the center, was a bathtub that had the dimensions of a relatively large swimming pool. Along the sides were taps of all shapes and colours. Oliver draped his towel on one of the many towel racks and then turned on the tap closest to him. Foamy water that looked like it would support his weight gushed out of it, and Oliver stared at it in wonder. Somehow, just the privilege of using this bathroom made him wish that he had become a prefect. Without turning off this tap, he turned on another, and from this one bubbles the size of footballs began to float outwards and bounce off the surface of the pool. Enthralled, Oliver pulled off his shirt and was about undo his pants, when he heard a muffled giggle. Quickly, he whirled around, but to his apprehension, he could see no one. After looking into all the stalls and still finding no one, he convinced himself that he was just imagining things. He stepped out of his jeans and he heard the giggle again, only this time it was louder, and closer. Terrified that it might be another crazy girl, trying to get a peek at his "fine arse", he dove into the pool headfirst. When he surfaced, he saw the source of the giggles and his mouth dropped open.
The giggles were coming from a painting of a mermaid lying in an extremely provocative pose, her long blonde hair draped strategically over her chest, her blue eyes twinkling as she laughed at his reaction. Deciding to ignore her, Oliver proceeded to swim a few laps in the huge bathtub. As he was getting out, and the mermaid tossed the golden strands of her hair over her shoulder and winked at him, he realized that the mermaid was probably one of the main reasons that Cedric was always raving about this bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, he was back in his dorm and to his relief, his room mates were beginning to look alive…to say that they looked awake would have been a lie. They all glared nastily at Oliver as he walked in, looking completely refreshed in his crisp black robes. Oliver ignored these looks…he had been getting them ever since he had taken to getting up early.
When Alison walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, Oliver could tell almost instantly that she was really keyed up, almost as keyed up as he got before Quidditch matches. When she sat down next to him, she barely glanced at him as she muttered good morning. Oliver was most amused at this new Alison, one who did not feel the urge to look at him when she greeted him. Placing his arm around her shoulders, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by anyone at the Gryffindor table, he whispered, 'Are we still on for some practice after brekkies?' Alison couldn't help but laugh out loud at Oliver's feeble attempt at a South African accent. Feeling much better, she helped herself to some cereal and some orange juice. When the post arrived, she barely glanced at it, for she knew that there would be nothing for her. Oliver, however, had got a letter, and Alison looked over his shoulder as he read it .it was from his parents, and to her horror, it was to do with whether Oliver wanted to spend Christmas at home or in Spain. There was no mention of him spending Christmas at Hogwarts, and Alison was suddenly struck with the horrible thought that she might be alone at Christmas. Well, maybe not alone. She knew that Harry was going to be around as were Ron and Hermione. But try as she might, she could not bring herself to imagine a Christmas without Oliver. Not wanting Oliver to see her distress, she turned away and proceeded to add more sugar to her cereal, her eyebrows knitted in concentration.
She was interrupted by Oliver who asked to borrow a quill. Without meeting his eyes, she handed him her quill, and then went back to the tasking process of adding sugar to her cereal. Beside her, she could hear Oliver scribbling a note as quickly as he could and then handing it back to the owl that was waiting on the table, cracking its beak impatiently. Forcing a smile onto her face, Alison turned back to him and said, 'well, is it Spain then?'
'What??'
'For Christmas…are you going to Spain or are you going home?'
'Don't be ridiculous…I'm staying right here…you know that!'
'I…I do?'
'Yeah…what's the point of Christmas without your…best friend?' Oliver had caught himself just as he was about to say girlfriend. Chuckling inwardly, he thought, * Let's not count our chickens before they hatch! * Alison couldn't believe her ears when he said that he had turned down Spain for her. Her heart filled with elation and it was all she could do to keep from tap dancing along the length of the Gryffindor table. So instead, she just shrugged her shoulders indifferently, before putting a spooning some cereal into her mouth. As her mind registered the sickly sweet taste in her mouth, she nearly threw up. She realized that in her determination to pretend not to care whether or not Oliver was staying for Christmas, she had added about ten large spoons of sugar to her cereal!
Oliver burst out laughing at Alison's attempt to spit out the cereal in a suitably dignified manner, and once again realized just how lucky he was.
After breakfast, Alison dragged Oliver to Professor Agallant's room to practice for their 'impromptu' dance. She knew that there was no point practicing the prepared dance, because they had it down to a fine science. When they got there, the room was locked, and Alison congratulated herself on her foresight. Triumphantly, she pulled the keys that she had got from Professor Agallant out of her pocket and then unlocked the door. The whole room was dark, with the exception of a faint glow from the music system, the only sign that it was, in fact, the property of a wizard. She strode over to it, and began to twiddle with the knob, trying to set it to some radio station, as Oliver flicked the light switch. All at once, the room was flooded in a light, and they were both momentarily dazed, as their eyes tried to adjust to the light. For the next hour and a half, they danced, and they danced and they danced. They only stopped when Professor Agallant walked in and registered his surprise at their diligence. In an enquiring voice, he asked, 'well, I think that's enough dancing for now…I suggest you go and rest, you wouldn't want to be too tired for the competition, now would you?' Alison and Oliver nodded, Alison wiping the beads of perspiration that had formed on her face and neck. As he watched them walk down the corridor towards the Gryffindor Common Room, he murmured, 'God help the other competitors!' in all his years, he had never seen anyone as talented as Alison. There did not seem to be anything the girl could not do; she could dance, she could play sport, she was arguably the smartest witch in the school.
As the time for the dance competition drew nearer, Alison grew more and more on edge. Half an hour before the start, she rushed off to the dorm to get dressed. She found her three roommates already there, all of them in various stages of 'undressedness'. Alison looked around the room in horror and wondered if a cyclone could have possibly done as much damage. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, there were masses of make up implements all over the beds, lingerie was draped all over the dresser, and to make things worse, the three girls sat in the middle of the room, with mascara streaked all over their face, looking completely dejected. They looked up at Alison and shook their heads hopelessly.
Dreading the answer, Alison muttered, 'what, in heaven's name happened here?' Wiping her streaky face with the back of her hand, Katie answered, 'we…we don't know what to do! We have no clothes for a dance competition…and we look so awful, and look at us now! We probably look like raccoons!' Biting back the urge to agree with Katie's astute deduction, Alison said, in as bright a voice as she could muster, 'Oh, gosh! Is that all? Not to worry, cuz Missy Fix-It is right here! First thing you have to do is wash your faces…the three of you look dreadful! And while you're doing that, I'll find you some clothes to wear!' Ignoring the doubtful looks on the faces of her roommates, she threw open her trunk and began to pull out her clothes, and mix and match the various tops and jeans. In less than five minutes, she had decided not only what she was going to wear, but also what Alicia, Angie and Katie were going to wear.
As the three trooped out of the bathroom, looking markedly better now that they did not look like warring Indians all set for battle, Alison threw the clothes that they were to wear at them. In three minutes, all four girls were ready, and Alison was heading out of the dorm, when Katie moaned, 'oh, but we haven't got any make up on!!!' Fearing another mini-collapse, Alison slammed the dorm door shut and then set to work. When she was done with all three of them, she glanced down at her watch, and saw to her relief that they still had ten minutes to go. Standing back to admire her handiwork, even she had to admit that she had done a pretty fine job. And from the way her three roomies were admiring themselves in the mirror, it was clear that they thought she had done a pretty good job as well. After watching them preen for a couple of minutes, Alison could stand it no longer and she began to walk towards the door. She had just grasped the door handle, when she felt herself being wrenched backwards and placed firmly on the chair in front of one of the mirrors. She could see Katie shaking her head at her in the mirror and chose to ignore her. 'What the hell are you doing now??? We're going to be late,' yelled Alison, in exasperation.
'You didn't think you were going to go out there looking like this, did you?'
Insulted, Alison retorted, 'Looking like what?'
'Well, you could look so much better if you just wore some make up yourself!'
Her panic mounting, Alison looked down at her watch again, and saw that they had less than five minutes to go. She decided that five minutes was certainly not long enough for her to argue with them, and so she gave in. Deftly, she outlined her eyes with black eyeliner, and dabbed a bit of lipstick on her lips. When she looked at her three roommates, she could see that they were pleased, and a feeling of relief washed over her. Together, they walked out of the dorm, looking for all the world, as though they were going to take part in a beauty pageant. Had it not been for the expressions on the guys' faces when they saw their 'dates' for the night, Alison would still have claimed that the entire make up charade was not worth a penny.
Fred's mouth dropped open as he looked at Angelina and it seemed to Alison that he was going to drool at any second. George's expression when he saw Alicia was no different. In fact, standing next to each other, at the foot of the stairs, Fred and George looked more like mirror images of each other than ever. Lee just stared at Katie, an expression of dazed wonder, mingled with pride plastered on his face. At first, Alison didn't see Oliver, for he was crouching down behind the other three guys tying his shoelaces. When he stood up, Alison's breath caught in her throat. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater that hugged his body and emphasized his wide shoulders and strong arms. The sleeves of the sweater were rolled up to his elbows, and Alison could see the muscles in his arms tensing and relaxing as he flexed his fingers. His blue jeans were faded at the seat and at the knees and looked as though he had been rolling around on the floor in them. Alison liked it. She was nearly at the foot of the stairs when Oliver saw her, and although he did not give any visible sign, his heart sped up at the sight of Alison, looking like an angel from heaven. Her silky hair framed her features perfectly. Oliver hadn't thought that it was possible for her to look any better than she already did in classes, but today, she looked like the very vision of beauty.
Oliver seemed unable to say anything and so he just nodded in acknowledgement of her presence. Almost as though she were mocking him, she nodded back. Together, they walked in silence towards the Great Hall where the competition was to be held. When they got there, the Hall was packed with students of all ages, milling about, sampling the delicious pastries and hors d'oerves that had been set out in different corners. Alison seemed strangely detached from everyone else…they didn't have to worry about making fools of themselves in front of the whole school.
Oliver was the first to spot Professor Agallant standing next to the large stage that had been set up in the center of the Hall. He dragged all the rest of the Gryffindor dancers over to the Professor, who chuckled at the worried look on all of their faces. Between his chuckles, he chortled, 'You all look like you're at a funeral…loosen up, this is only a fun competition!' and then, in an undertone, he added, so that only Alison could hear, 'I wouldn't worry about a thing if I were you!' Alison smiled wanly, and turned back to the rest of her group. Alicia was talking animatedly about something, but Alison didn't hear a word of what she was saying. She was too busy scanning to crowd to try and figure out who the other contestants were. She knew that Cedric was going to be dancing for Hufflepuff because he had told her. She also knew that Cho was dancing for Ravenclaw and that Flint and Drucilla Perkins were the main couple for Slytherin. But that was all that she knew and she didn't like it when she didn't know exactly who her competition was going to be. She was jolted back to reality when Oliver prodded her hard. Startled, she looked around to see everyone staring at her expectantly. Rather sheepishly, she said, 'Ummm…what?'
The look of indignance on Alicia's face that Alison had not been riveted to her every word was absolutely priceless, and before Alison could stop herself, she began to giggle. If Alicia had been annoyed before, it was nothing compared to how she looked now. Fortunately for Alison, she was saved from what promised to be a very tedious lecture on how friends were obliged to listen to each other, by the sound of Professor Agallant's voice. She looked around to see where it was coming from and then, she saw the good Professor, standing on the stage. He cleared his throat again, and then waited a few seconds for the entire student body to settle down. When the noise levels had fallen significantly, he held the mike to his mouth, and proclaimed, 'welcome, one and all, to the First and hopefully not the last, Halloween Dance Competition!'
Adrenalin began to rush through Oliver's veins as the crowd let out a roar of enthusiasm at this announcement. His heart began to pound against his rib cage, and unknown to him, the person standing beside him was feeling the exact same way. Alison's mouth had gone dry and as surreptitiously as she could, she tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. Professor Agallant waited for silence again, before he continued. 'Before we actually start our competition, I felt that it would be only fair to let the competitors warm up. So we shall have a couple of songs first. However, before we get on with the competition, I want to get the explanation of the rules out of the way. There are three different categories. The first is the Group dance that was to be prepared before hand. The second is the Couple dance, which was again, to be prepared beforehand. And the Grand Finale, of course, is the category where we put the best couple from each house in the spotlight…that's right…the Unprepared Couple Dance. As in the auditions, the best dancers will be judged on the basis of the applause that they receive, so I suggest that if you want your house to win, you clap like mad when its their turn. Of course, this will not be the only judgment of how good a group or couple is. Equally important are the opinions of our three judges. So, without further ado, let me introduce your judges to you.
The first, a critically acclaimed dancer, as well as the author of some of the most well read books about the lives and lifestyles of Muggles, it is a great honour to present Marianne Bridelwater!' The crowd went wild, and Alison clapped her hands to her mouth to keep from screaming out loud. Marianne Bridelwater's books were some of the best that she had ever read, and her most recent one about the Muggle entertainment industry had shown Hollywood in clearest of lights, with insights into the relationships of the Rich and the Famous. She had never seen Marianne dance, though, although she had read in the Daily Prophet that she was more than competent, to say the least. True to the theme of the Ball, Marianne was dressed in tight fitting jeans with spangles down the side and a red halter-top. Oliver had never read any of her books, but if the reaction of the rest of the crowd was anything to go by, he was definitely missing something.
When the crowd had died down and Alison had stopped gasping, 'Omigod!! Omigod!!!!', Professor Agallant continued. His voice boomed, 'The second, an idol for many teenagers like yourself, but a different kind of idol…a sporting idol. Known for his powerful throws, his unbelievable accuracy, and most of all, his ability to bring the other team to its knees with his positively lethal tactics, I present to you…Jason Carlson, Captain and Chaser for Puddlemere United!!!!' This time, it was Oliver's turn to gasp. Without thinking, he grasped Alison's hand and squeezed, he was so excited. Realising that gentle persuasion would be of no use, Alison pried his fingers apart to release her now throbbing hand. Coming to his senses, Oliver grinned at her apologetically, and taking her hand, kissed it and pretended that the kiss would make all the pain go away. Little did he know that it DID make the pain disappear almost instantaneously. Alison looked up at the man on the stage and she had to admit that the man certainly looked like the sort who could bring anyone to their knees. Powerfully built, with a shock of dirty blonde hair, and clear blue eyes, Jason Carlson was what a lot of girls would consider good looking. She had to laugh at the fact that he was wearing an Arsenal soccer shirt…somehow it had never occurred to her that Quidditch players might actually watch any other sport…Oliver certainly didn't.
Oliver could not believe that one of his Quidditch idols was standing on the stage, close enough to touch…so close that he could actually see and count the freckles on his nose. Suddenly, all the nervousness that he had been feeling took flight. He was determined to win in front of this man, and make some sort of lasting impression on him. This time, the crowd quieted down more quickly…they were all anxious to see who the other two judges were. Smiling at this rather unusual self-discipline, Professor Agallant continued once again. 'The third judge, a young lady, renowned in the wizarding world for her incredible sense of humour, her incredible good lucks…oh, yeah, and she can sing a bit too!' Unlike for the other two judges, the students didn't have a clue who he was talking about…until, Celesta Weird stepped onto the stage, her distinctive raven black locks flying around her head, as if being whipped around by an invisible tornado. Her emerald green eyes sparkled against her pale skin…she was everything that Muggle legends claimed witches were: startling beautiful, bewitching, her eyes even had the legendary sparkle, although it looked a lot more good spirited than the legends made it out to be. The crowd was momentarily silent and then, with the likeliness of a bomb exploding, people began to scream…it was mass hysteria at its upper limit. Alison looked around her and saw Oliver squinting at the lady…he seemed to be the only one in the whole crowd who didn't recognize her. But then again, he couldn't claim to be a big fan of music, and so one couldn't blame him for not having heard of the Weird Sisters. On her other side, Angelina, Alicia and Katie were jumping up and down, screaming at the top of their voices. Their boyfriends were just staring at Celesta in a besotted sort of way…and Alison could see why. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Oliver and was most relieved to find that he was not staring at Celesta but rather looking around at other people's reactions. When the screaming died down slightly, Professor Agallant took the chance to announce, 'Well, it's fine with me if you want to delay the start of the competition…but then don't blame me if you have no time at all to get ready for the competition.' The noise died down almost instantaneously and Professor Agallant grinned. He had known that would bring the crowd to their senses. He paused for a few seconds, before proceeding.
'The last, while nowhere near as famous as the other three, by his own humble admission, is a man, who needs no introduction here in Hogwarts. One of the most popular head boys in the history of this school, it gives me great pleasure to welcome BILL WEASLEY!!'
Alison watched on in amazement as the crowd burst into thunderous applause and whistles. A tall, very attractive man, with fiery red hair walked onto the stage, beaming widely all the way. Then suddenly, it struck her…this was the legendary Bill Weasley, brother of Fred and George Weasley, and one of the people that Oliver looked up to the most as the brother that he had never had. She looked over at Fred and George, one of the few who were not joining in the applause. The only other person she could see who was standing as still as the twins was Ron. Looking back at the twins, she saw the looks of disbelief in their eyes, disbelief that their own brother hadn't told them about this, disbelief that he had actually been chosen to be a judge. But then again, Bill had received critical acclaim for his victories at both national and international dance competitions. She could see some girls swooning, and Alicia was trying her best not to look too excited, for George's sake. Alison chuckled as she remembered Alicia telling her how she had had a huge crush on Bill before she had even noticed George, and she stored it in her mind to tell Oliver at a later stage.
This time the applause went on the longest, and Professor Agallant did not so much as attempt to stop it. When it did eventually stop, Bill joined the other three judges at a long table that had been set up by the stage, and introduced himself. Alison could tell that he was just as excited as any student in the Hall to be meeting the other three judges, and she took in the slight reddening in Celesta's cheeks as she shook hands with Bill. The tiny wink that he shot at the singer did not go unnoticed either. Professor Agallant cleared his throat before proclaiming, 'Now that the boring part is out of the way,' and at this, he grinned apologetically at the four judges, 'we can move on to the warm up. All, I can say is…HAVE FUN!'
With that the lights dimmed and disco lights began to flash as 'Fly By' by Blue began to blare from the speakers that were hidden from view. Alison glanced at Oliver and saw that he wasn't looking in the least bit nervous. This discovery surprised her…she would have thought that he would have been feeling more like he did before a Quidditch Match. Noticing Alison's intense regard, he raised his eyebrows enquiringly, to which she responded with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. Grinning, he placed his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. Alison didn't tense up…this was just like they had practiced. Together, they began to sway, becoming one with the music. In a low voice, Alison said, 'don't do any fancy moves now…save that for the unprepared dance…we don't want anyone to know what a brilliant dancer you really are.' Oliver nodded and then said, 'do you know who Jason Carlson is?'
'How could I possibly not know? You talk about him so much, sometimes it makes me wonder if you are infatuated with him.'
'Well, I have to impress him. If I do, I can ask him for a try out for Puddlemere United. So the stakes in this competition have just been raised…a lot. We HAVE to win, Alison…we HAVE to.'
Alison nearly laughed out loud at the determination in his voice, but then, she realized just how much getting into Puddlemere meant to Oliver. How exactly he planned to get in on the merit of one dance competition that was won, Alison did not know. But one thing she did know…it was her duty as Oliver's best friend to make sure that he got what he wanted. Even if it meant overcoming her nervousness.
They danced together for the next three songs, talking rather than listening to the music, swaying rather discreetly amongst the huge crowd that surrounded them, a crowd that was going wild with enthusiasm. Oliver's mention of Puddlemere United was the first that Alison had thought about the future. She couldn't think of one thing that she could do well enough to earn herself an income. When she mentioned this to Oliver, he laughed out loud, attracting stares from the couples around them…and it must have been an odd sight. Two people who looked so comfortable in each other's arms, swaying slowly even to the fastest and most energetic songs, and occasionally erupting into fits of laughter. But such was their relationship: it was unique. They were interrupted from this incredibly private conversation by Professor Agallant who announced that it was finally the time that they had all been waiting for. The start of the Halloween Inter-house Dance Competition. Alison felt her heart begin to pound, not so much out of nervousness but out of excitement and, more importantly, determination. Without wasting any more time, he called up the Ravenclaw House Group, and then left them to it. As the group trooped onto the stage, with Cho and her partner, Roger Davies in the lead, the Hall was plunged into darkness. A slight murmur rose from the crowd but they were quieted by the first rasping chords of Linkin Park's In the End filtering to the ears. The lights rose on the stage, and on the stationary figures from Ravenclaw, and then as Chester's voice began to murmur the lyrics, the statue like figures came to life, moving in tandem, their pace increasing and decreasing with the intensity of Linkin Park's lead singer's voice. The crowd began to sway and cheer as the moves got more complex, and the dancers all swapped places, giving all the couples to stand at the front of the stage. Definitely one of their best moves was when the group split into two separate halves and then began to mirror each other's moves. As Alison swayed, she felt Oliver's breath on the back of her neck, and looked up at him. He winked at her and lowering his lips to her ears, he whispered, 'Don't worry…the only thing they've got going for them is Cho.' And Alison had to admit that while it was indeed clear that the group had put a lot of effort into their performance, they had chosen a bad song to dance to. With the large amount of rap and the relatively slow music, Alison could not imagine choosing the song for a dance competition. But as the group launched into its final moves and the song drew to a close, Alison realized that they had the disadvantage of not having any Muggleborns amongst them. As the last notes of the song faded, the crowd burst into applause and Alison glanced over at the judge's table. The expression on Marianne Bridelwater's face was impassive while those of the others were a bit easier to read. And to Alison's dismay, the other three all seemed suitably impressed. Her heart sank, but as the Ravenclaws came streaming off the stage, she clapped enthusiastically with all the rest. She could see the apprehensive look on Cho's face and was about to hurry over and congratulate her on her performance, but Harry got there before her. And from the way things were going…Alison didn't think Harry wouldn't have been too pleased with her had she interrupted them.
Alison leaned over to Oliver and whispered in his ear to look at Harry and when he did, he frowned. Alison was most annoyed at this reaction. When he saw her raised eyebrows, Oliver said in an annoyingly condescending voice, 'She's the Ravenclaw Seeker! Now Harry's going to be all goo goo eyed at her in the next match.' Alison shook her head resignedly and said' God, is that all you ever think about????' She had meant it as a purely rhetorical question, but the answer made her face flame. She felt his arms around her waist, and when she looked up at him, he said, 'actually, it isn't the only thing in think about. I think about you.' Alison was so stunned at this proclamation that she didn't move. Oliver chuckled inwardly at her reaction. He loved it when she was so dumbstruck…she looked even more gorgeous. Alison eventually recovered, but for the next two songs, by Hufflepuff and Slytherin, she couldn't think about anything else. She was so preoccupied that she didn't even notice Cedric winking at Oliver as he went past, when he saw his arms entwined around Alison. Of course, Oliver did not see any reason to set him straight. After all, by that night, she would be his. Oliver had to admit that Slytherin were pretty good. Marcus Flint was a very good dancer, although Oliver would never admit that to anyone. Watching him up on the stage, looking so smug, with his arms around Drucilla, Oliver wanted to physically throttle him for even trying to harm Alison. When Slytherin finished, and jumped off the stage, pumped up, Oliver gently shook Alison, to wake her from the fantasy world that she had been living in for the past five minutes and informed her that they were up next. Almost instantly, Alison pulled away form him, and began to gesticulate wildly. Within a matter of seconds, the rest of the group was standing with them, and Alison gave them some last minute pointers. 'Ok, group, we've watched all three of those groups up there, and we KNOW that we are better than all of them. We KNOW that we can whip their ass in this category, so let's not be squeamish when we're doing it. Let's sweep the floor with em! And no nerves! Confidence is the order of the day.' Although she was telling her group not to be nervous, she could feel the beginnings of butterflies in her stomach, and she tried her best not to think about them. She had to win this, for Oliver. And with this thought powering her on, she charged onto the stage, followed by the rest of the group. The lights went off again, and Alison took her position in front of Oliver and after making sure that the other three couples were ready, she nodded at Professor Agallant, who was standing in the wings controlling the lights.
The ripping beat of Freestyler by Bomfunk MCs began to belt from the speakers and Alison launched herself into the dance with all of her heart. Around her, she could see the rest of her group doing the same, and watching the crowd go wild, she felt her heart fill with pride. Alison knew that although their dance was very technical, it flowed and looked just like the street dancing in the back alleys of Durban. In a word, it was amazing! Alison felt Oliver's arms close in around her and she tensed her legs readying herself for the hardest part of the dance. The flips. Then in unison, all four girls were flipped over the heads of their partners and the crowd, particularly the Gryffindors, went ballistic. Then the guys proceeded to do the most complex series of steps that Hogwarts had ever seen. Alison had to give it to Oliver…when he had first shown the steps to her, she had been very doubtful as to whether the other guys could do it. But now, now they were just as good as Oliver was. He had done an incredible job with them. As the guys reached the end of their little display, Alison looked at the girls and nodded her head. This was the signal. They count to three and then all four of them catapulted themselves to the front of the stage, where the boys caught them, just before they fell of the edge. The crowd gasped at this split second timing and then gasped again, as the couples began to switch partners at the speed of lightning. The star like formation that Alison had been so insistent on perfecting paid off, as the crowd drew in their breath when all four girls leapt into the air. As they fell back into the waiting arms of their partners, their arms stretched above their heads, the crowd whistled and cheered in the manner of a sellout crowd at a Quidditch World Cup final. Alison sucked in her breath as she fell, she knew that the next step would have to be times just perfectly, and so, the moment, her hands touched that of the other four girls, she bent her knees, and collapsed to the ground. Like a Mexican wave, Alicia who was on her right did the same, followed by Angelina and then, lastly, Katie. At the same time, the boys had also been collapsing to the ground, but in the opposite direction, creating the effect of a magnificent starfish. And just as the last boy dropped to the ground, the song ended, and all of them heaved a huge sigh of relief to themselves. There had been so many places where things could have gone completely wrong. But all the practice had paid off. They didn't need the crowd's reaction to tell them that they had walked away with that category.
The clapping and cheering went on for a good five minutes and as the group trooped off the stage, all emotionally and physically drained, they were all congratulated heartily by the crowd, and they all received more than a few pats on the back. Adrenalin was still surging through Alison's bloodstream and from the look of exhilaration on her partner's face, she could tell that he felt the same. Although Professor Agallant announced a short break for the couples to prepare themselves for the next round, the last thing that Alison felt like doing was resting. She was too pumped to do anything as boring as resting. As the energetic beat of Mambo Number 5 by Lou Bega began to filter from the speakers, Alison grabbed Oliver's hand and began to sway to the music. Looking at her incredulously, he asked, 'Jesus, Alison! Aren't you tired?'
'Tired? No! Aww, is poor Ollie tired already?'
'I'm not tired!' answered Oliver, a little too indignantly.
Smirking slightly, Alison placed her arms on his shoulders and whispered, 'oh, yeah? Then prove it!'
Resignedly Oliver let himself be lead to the dance floor, and was thankful that there were others like Alison who were not tired. Had she been the only one, they would have been eh only couple on the floor, and THAT would have been embarrassing. Meanwhile, Bill had excused himself from the judge's table and was making his way over to Cedric and some of the other guys in Oliver's year. All of them turned around to greet him, and Fred and George appeared from behind him, looking most ill-used. In a hurt voice, George said, 'well, I would have thought that you could have at least told the two of us! It wouldn't have hurt, and its not as though we would have told anyone!'
Bill grinned at their identical expressions and had to laugh. This, however, only made them more annoyed and without a word, they walked back to their dates in a huff. Bill turned back to Cedric to find him laughing so hard that it looked like he would explode, his face was so red. Bill waited for him to stop before asking him what he had come over there for in the first place. In a low voice, so that only Cedric could hear him, he asked, 'So, who's the babe with Oliver? I would have thought he would have told me if he had a girlfriend!'
'Babe is right! She turned me down, would you believe that? Her name's Alison, Alison Adams, and she's Oliver's best friend. They may be best friends, but there is NO denying the sexual chemistry between them. I mean, you saw them up there before. It was like they were meant to be together.'
'But they're not going out?'
'No, for some weird reason that I cannot figure out, Oliver's scared to take the leap.' Bill frowned at this…Oliver had never been scared of anything before. He had always been the sort to zoom in on a target, once it had been spotted. But then again, he had never known Oliver to take interest in a girl before. Bill glanced over at Oliver and saw that he was deep in conversation with Alison. Suddenly, Alison threw back her head and laughed…it was then that Oliver caught sight of Bill looking in his direction. He pulled Alison towards him, whispered something in her ear, and then began to drag her towards Bill, a huge beam on his face.
When he reached Bill, he embraced him warmly, and then pulled away to introduce Alison. Before he could do so, Bill said, 'don't bother…Cedric's just been telling me all about you…Alison.'
With a grin, Alison retorted, 'and I deny every single bit of it!'
Bill had to grin at that, and then, he turned to Oliver and said, 'well, I didn't expect someone as obsessed as you to write every day, but at the very least, you could have sent me an owl every so often. You had me worried that Flint might have had you killed, what with you being Quidditch captain and all that.' He didn't miss the look of unmistakable pain that fleeted across Alison's face at the mention of Marcus Flint and he tucked it at the back of his mind to ask Oliver about it later. Oliver looked rather sheepish, and mumbled something about time, and work, and Quidditch under his breath. One thing Bill did hear were the words, 'I'm sorry.' Slightly taken aback, he realized just how much Alison must have changed Oliver. The old, and slightly arrogant Oliver would never say sorry, even if he were. Bill decided that he liked the new Oliver better, and that consequently, Alison had to be a pretty remarkable person. One thing was for sure, she was VERY attractive. Bill promised to meet Oliver after the competition and then, he took off back to the judges' table. Oliver watched him go, and said, 'I really should have written…I really should have!'
Alison chuckled to herself. Trust Oliver to beat himself up about something as insignificant as that. She was in the process of reassuring him that while Bill would have felt a lot better had Oliver written, he didn't seem to hold any sort of grudge against Oliver for not having written, when Professor Agallant stepped back onto the stage, and said, 'Alright…contestants, I want you near the stage so that you can come up quickly. The order will be the same as with the first round and this time, there will be no break in the middle. Good luck to all of you.'
