After a few minutes, Alison whispered, 'Oliver? Can I make a wild guess as to why you pulled away earlier?'
she could feel Oliver stiffen at these words and , she saw the look of discomfort flash across his face. Ignoring these signs, she ploughed on. ' I occurs to me that perhaps, just perhaps Mme Pomfrey said something to you. I couldn't quite figure out what it was that she told you in her office, until it struck me a second ago. Would I be right in assuming that she asked you not to have sex with me, so that she could check that I'm not pregnant?'
Oliver stared at her in openmouthed wonder. It was a well-known fact that Alison was incredibly intelligent, but this time, she had somehow managed to pluck the right answer, as if out of thin air. Alison grinned at his shock and said, 'I thought that might be it…you have to remember Oliver, I've been through this before.' Oliver saw the momentary flash of pain as it flitted across her face before disappearing in the twinkling of an eyelid. And for what seemed like the millionth time, he berated himself for agreeing to meet Jason Carlson for the tryouts. He was brought back to the present by Alison's voice saying, 'anyways, you don't have to worry. I'm not pregnant.'
Oliver raised his eyebrows at her and said, 'You mean…you've got your…'

'Yeah…'

'Oh, thank god!!! When Mme Pomfrey said that you might be pregnant with Flint's child, I was so devastated…I want you to have my child and only my child.'
Oliver stopped abruptly, when he realized what he had just said. He looked over at Alison and said, 'I didn't mean right now, of course, I meant later…eventually.' Alison smiled and kissed him gently. As she broke away, she whispered, 'I know what you mean…and I feel exactly the same way.'
 

*****

The dancing flames cast flickering shadows on the walls of the Great Hall. The dining tables had disappeared save one that rested against the far wall. A stage had been set up at the front, with the banners of the four houses acting as a backdrop. The hall was alive with the hushed whispers of parents, as they recalled their years at Hogwarts. Outside, in the Entrance Hall, stood the graduating class of Hogwarts. Dressed in blood red robes, Alison and Oliver stood as far away from the entrance to the Great Hall as possible. They were surrounded by their friends, most from their own house, some from Hufflepuff and some from Ravenclaw.
Alison looked around at her friends, and smiled when she saw the looks of apprehension on all of their faces. She turned to Oliver, and was most amused when she saw that he was wringing his hands without realizing what he was doing. Gently, she pulled his hands apart, and held them with hers. The gentle feel of his fingers against the skin on her palms made her heart weep with love. She stood on tiptoes, and placing her arms around his neck, brushed her lips against his. A smile appeared on his face, and he placed his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, and smell the pine fresh scent of his aftershave.
Oliver was drawing his lips close to hers, when they heard Professor McGonagall clear her throat loudly. They sprang apart, and Oliver could feel his face burning under McGonagall's gaze. Satisfied that nothing inappropriate was going to happen in the Entrance Hall, she strode to the entrance of the Great Hall. Silently, she opened the door, and glanced in. Through the door, the nervous seventh years could hear sntches of Professor Dumbledore's speech. "…transition from irresponsible children to responsible adults …wish them the very best of luck…welcome the graduating class of 1999!!"

This last phrase was the students' cue to enter the Great Hall. Alison followed Oliver in, and was momentarily stunned by the vast number of parents and friends who were present. Seeing Oliver's face light up, she glanced in the direction of his gaze, and saw his parents sitting there with, wide beams on their faces. Alison felt a pang of regret within her soul; regret that her father could not be here. He had been most depressed the previous night when he explained to her why he couldn't make it. He was, after all, one of the most wanted criminals in the wizarding world.
All the seventh years lined up beside the magnificent stage that had been erected. The banners of the four houses were draped across the back of the stage making for a vividly coloured backdrop. Professor McGonagall walked onto the stage and with her wand pointed at her throat like a microphone, she began to call out the names of all the graduates. It struck Alison as ironic that students both began and ended their stays at Hogwarts with the same teacher calling out their names. Oliver's name was called just before hers and almost nonchalantly, he strolled onto the stage to join the rest of the graduating class and accept his diploma. Alison was the last student to be called up, and As she walked onto the stage, Professor McGonagall turned to her, handed her her diploma and then announced again, 'Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the graduating class of 1999!!!' The audience burst into instantaneous applause, and through the glare of the spotlights that were shining in her eyes, she thought she caught sight of Oliver's mother wiping the tears away from her eyes. In reflection, Alison had to admit that his mother was probably astonished by the turnaround in Oliver's grades. He had bagged more NEWTS than anyone else in the school, except for Alison. And Alison smiled inwardly as she remembered all the late night tutoring sessions; times when she wanted nothing more to give in to Oliver's seductive gestures and curl up in his arms. But it had paid off in the end and even Oliver grudgingly admitted to that.
An hour later, Oliver was standing in front of the castle gates for the last time, his suitcase in one hand, and his other arm placed securely around Alison's waist. Oliver had just told his parents of his plans to move to Puddlemere straight away and join the team. But when he told them that Alison and he were going to be living together, they took it a lot more calmly than Alison had expected. Oliver's mother smiled slightly when Oliver told her of their decision in a very trepid voice. Kindly, she placed her arm around Alison and said, 'Any girl who could bring about such a sudden change in my Ollie can do no wrong in my eyes.' His father had simply grunted his approval and thumped Oliver heartily on the back. Oliver just stared at his parents in incredulous disbelief and it was all Alison could do from laughing out aloud. And then, as quickly as they had arrived, they left and Oliver and Alison made their way to where they knew the portkey to Puddlemere was going to be.

*****

An hour later, they walked into their house, their first house together. It wasn't particularly extravagant. It was a two bedroom one story villa, with a garden in front and a white picket fence. The inside was sparsely decorated, with identical beds in the two bedrooms, and a single bathroom. There was a small kitchen with an even smaller gas stove. Oliver was most excited. He had never seen this particular Muggle appliance before. After much pleading on his part, Alison finally promised to show him how to work it after they had unpacked their stuff. One of the bedrooms was slightly larger than the other, and so it was designated the "master bedroom". In the corner, there were two cupboards and a dressing table. Alison tossed open her suitcase and began to unpack…her mother had always told her that unpacking came before anything else. She could feel Oliver watching her as she systematically hung up her clothes. But she didn't hear him come up behind her until he placed his arms around her waist, and pulled her towards him. Alison giggled softly and tried to pull away, but Oliver's strong arms were unrelenting. When his lips touched her neck, she felt a shiver of anticipation run through her. She could feel his arms slipping under her sweater, softly caressing her bare skin. Softly, she whispered, 'didn't you want me to teach you how to light that gas stove?'
In reply, Oliver only kissed her harder, his desire becoming evident. Alison decided to throw caution to the winds; after all, it was their first night together. She turned to face him, and saw the passion burning in his chocolate brown eyes. Gently, she pressed her lips against his, and with her fingers, began to unbuckle his belt. Oliver smoothly maneuvered her over to the bed, and in sync with each other, they sank into the soft down mattress. Effortlessly, Oliver undid the top button of Alison's sweater before kissing the newly exposed flesh. Alison gasped as his tongue traced a line along the rim of her brassiere. Oliver was now on top of her, his hips pressed against hers, his lips caressing hers. Alison slid her arms under Oliver's shirt, and ran her fingers along his strong back, marveling at his muscles as they flexed underneath her hands.

The next morning, Alison's eyes fluttered open as the sunlight streamed in through the open window. She blinked her eyes, and shivered as a cold gust assailed her bare skin. Almost instinctively, Oliver's arms tightened around her. Alison snuggled against his strong chest, and thought about the previous night. Oliver had been so completely in tune with her thoughts, it was almost as though he could read her mind. She squinted around the bedroom; their bedroom and noticed with chagrin that all her clothes were lying on the floor amid Oliver's. She thought about her life and decided that there was nothing that could possibly ruin it. She was as happy as she had ever been in her life. She was lying in the arms of the man whom she loved with all her heart and soul and they had their entire lives ahead of them. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
An hour or so later, she was woken by Oliver's hands running along her thighs, and she turned to look at him. His head was propped up on his arm, and his dark brown hair was tousled. A lazy smile broke on his face when he saw that her eyes were open. His eyes traveled over her body, and Alison felt a blush creeping up her necks when she realized what Oliver was doing. She sntched the sheet away from him, and covered herself up. Oliver couldn't help but laugh at this gesture, especially after the previous night. He moved closer to Alison, and kissing her on the nose, whispered, "good morning…did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby"

*****