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"
*****
