Chapter 10: Celebrations

They ended up in a small pub, in the village just down the road from Puddlemere United's stadium. At first Harry had been a little surprised that the team were happy to celebrate their victory in a muggle pub. However, he'd quickly realized that they preferred to party away from the wizarding world where they would be recognized.

The celebratory party was also a lot larger then he'd expected. Lot's of the people he'd seen in the player's lounge were there, though thankfully Oliver's fan squad hadn't managed to invite themselves along.

The group had commandeered a corner of the pub. They filled the booths and took it in turns to play on the muggle Billiard table. Surprisingly, the locals didn't seem to mind the invasion of their usually quiet pub, and there was a festive atmosphere to the place. One of the players put a tab on at the bar and everyone was getting very merry indeed.  Every so often the players would break out into a chorus of Puddlemere's anthem. As the alcohol continued to role, the singing got louder and the lyrics became almost unrecognisable.

Leaning causally against the bar, and feeling very much like a wallflower, Harry watched the celebrations from the fringe. As he nursed his drink, Harry half-heartedly kept an eye on the billiard table; though he had trouble keeping track of the game because his eyes kept straying to Oliver. They hadn't really spoken to each other since they'd arrived and Harry was beginning to think he was being avoided.

Who could blame Oliver really? Just remembering his behaviour in the locker room made Harry's face burn with embarrassment. As if getting hard hadn't been bad enough, Harry had had to go that extra step and make a compete fool of himself. He must have looked like such an idiot standing there with his eyes closed, waiting to be kissed. Harry couldn't remember if he'd puckered his lips but he groaned at the very idea, and a hot wave of shame rippled through his body.

Abruptly Harry turned to the bar and motioned to the barman. Getting thoroughly sloshed suddenly seemed like a very good idea to Harry. "I'll have another," he said when the smiling barman came over.

While he was waiting for his drink, Harry noticed an empty bar stool. Not wanting to miss out, Harry quickly snagged it and awkwardly hopped up onto the soft seat. With his elbows resting on the counter and his shoulders hunched, Harry settled in for a night of drinking.

"Thanks," Harry smiled when the barman brought his drink. "Actually could I get another?" The barman chuckled, and after nodding at Harry he left to make the drink.

"Planning on getting pissed are you?" A man chuckled, sliding up to stand next to Harry's stool.

Harry turned in his seat to look at the man and smiled. He was very tall, had blonde hair and Harry couldn't help noticing that he was very handsome. "Yeah," Harry smiled, "I think I'm willing to risk the hangover."

The man smiled, "Do you get bad hangovers?"

"Yes," groaned Harry, "they're dreadful!"

He looked sympathetically at Harry and then he smiled again, "I'm Daniel by the way." He held out his hand for Harry to take.

"Harry," he replied, happily shaking his hand. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad if he had someone he could talk to; at least he wouldn't feel so much like a wallflower.

"Who do you know here, Harry?" Daniel asked curiously, "I've heard of you obviously," – his eyes flicked to Harry's scar – "but I've never seen you at any of the matches before."

"Fred," Harry said and Daniel chuckled knowingly. He grinned at Daniel before continuing, "Oliver gave us tickets. And I know Jackson a little bit. I met him a couple of weeks ago. Who are you here with?"

"Kirk Fitzpatrick," Daniel smiled. Harry searched his mind for which one of the players that was and after a minute he recalled that Kirk was the seeker. "We went to Durmstrang together."

"Really? What was that like then?" Harry asked interestedly. He'd always wondered what it would be like to have gone to another wizard school; not that he hadn't loved Hogwarts. Harry gulped down his drink as he listened Daniels reply.

"I know what you're thinking and it really wasn't like that. Its not as bad as everyone makes out. We learnt some dark magic but not much and it was one of the most boring subjects we had…" He paused when the barman finally brought Harry's new drink – "It was just a school… though it was fucking cold…"

Harry laughed. "Did you know Viktor?" Harry smiled, pushing his empty glass away and picking up his new drink.

"Viktor Krum you mean?" Harry nodded. "Not really. We were in the same year but he kept to himself a lot." Harry smiled, that sounded just like Viktor. "Why do you know him?" Daniel asked curiously.

"Yeah, he's going out with one of my best friends – I think they're going to get married…" Harry trailed off, wistfully shrugging his shoulder. Everybody seemed to have someone special but him. How depressing, Harry thought. He gestured to the barman and the man winked. Already anticipating the fresh taste of the next, Harry downed his drink.

"You're a machine," Daniel chuckled as Harry slapped the glass on the counter.

"Another?" The barman teased when he brought over Harry's drink.

"Why not?" Harry giggled. "Take your time though, I still need to have this one to finish."

"What are you drinking?" Daniel asked, looking at Harry's drink with his face twisted thoughtfully, "It looks like water."

"It's a Gin and Tonic," Harry beamed. "Here try it," Harry added, holding the glass out to Daniel.

Daniel calmly took a sip of the offered beverage. He smiled and smacked his lips together appreciatively as he handed the glass back, "It's very refreshing."

"Isn't it just," Harry agreed happily and he playfully patted Daniel's shoulder approvingly.

"Perhaps I should slow down," Harry thought to himself, he was beginning to sound shrill.  He took another sip of his drink and changed his mind. Really what did it matter if he ended up screaming like a banshee when the barman (he really did need to find out his name) made such nice Gin and Tonics. Before Harry knew it, he'd drained the glass and was plonking it back on the counter with a loud bang.

As he was turned to face Daniel, he didn't see the other man slide up on his other side. And he had no idea he was even there till a smooth voice whispered in his ear, "I think its time for our rematch Harry."

Harry recognized the voice instantly and he shivered at the feel of Oliver's breath against his ear. Slowly, Harry turned in his seat so he could see the other boy. "Rematch?" Harry asked dumbly, not having the faintest idea what Oliver was talking about.

"The billiard table is free," said Oliver, "I think we should play that game we were going to play last week." Now Harry understood. Oliver was referring to the match they'd planned to play before the wench, Siobhan, had shown up. "I want to win this time," Oliver added cheekily.

Harry had absolutely no doubts in his mind that Oliver would win. Fred had told him of how he'd 'helped' him out at the housewarming. But Harry didn't really care if he lost; at least he knew Oliver wasn't avoiding him. "Okay, I'll play," Harry smiled, "But I just have to wait for my drink."

"Good." Oliver said simply.

"I think I'll get one of your drinks Harry," Daniel said, tapping Harry on the shoulder, and Harry had to turn back around to look at him, "What did you say it was called?"

"Gin and tonic," Harry smiled sweetly.

"I can't believe I've never had one before, they're so nice…"

"Harry?"

Harry smiled apologetically at Daniel and turned back around in his seat to face Oliver. He felt a like a yo-yo constantly having to spin in his seat to acknowledge whomever it was talking to him and he felt bad because when he was talking to one he had his back to the other; effectively cutting them out.

"What have you been doing all week?" Oliver asked and he sounded as though he was making it up on the spot just to keep Harry's attention.

"Umm," Harry said, trying to think, "I can't really remember to be honest. Nothing very exciting." Harry shrugged his shoulders. He could see the barman pouring tonic water into a glass and he hoped that was his drink. "What did you do?" Harry asked for want of something better to say.

"Practice… went out a couple of times… Nothing much," Oliver replied quietly.

"Here you go," the barman winked, depositing the drink in front of Harry.

"Thank you," Harry smiled brightly. "Are you ready for this rematch then?" Harry grinned at Oliver.

Oliver looked relived. "Yes let's go."

As soon as Harry hopped off the stool, he realized just how tipsy he was. Without the chairs support, Harry felt light headed and he swayed on his feet. Daniel kindly put a hand on Harry's shoulder, steadying him, and Harry's world slowly righted itself. "Thanks," Harry smiled politely, feeling much better. "I'm gonna go play billiards now… so I'll talk to you later I guess."

"Sure Harry," Daniel said, giving Harry a tight-lipped smile. He was disappointed Harry realized and he felt slightly guilty for abandoning Daniel as soon as a better offer came along but he allowed Oliver to drag him away.

"Oliver you're back," Kirk said glumly. He'd just finished setting up the table and looked very disappointed at Harry and Oliver's sudden appearance. "A minute longer and you would have lost the table."

"Out of my way Fitzpatrick," Oliver said, "This is an important game were playing and I have to win this time." 

And win he did. Quite convincingly. Harry only managed to sink two balls! To be fair, he was a little pissed and he found himself entirely distracted by the sight of Oliver bending over the table to take his shots. He could never tire of seeing Oliver's firm arse so perfectly displayed. The images would linger in Harry's mind and he managed to mess up just about every shot he took.

"I knew you cheated," Oliver said when the game was over.

"Come on," Oliver smirked sexily, "Pants off."

Harry eyes opened wide in shock and he felt himself sober up immediately. Oliver couldn't be serious! It was one thing to run around at a party with his pants off, but quite another thing entirely, to do it in a pub. "You can't carry a bet across," Harry stammered.

"Piker!" Oliver teased.  When he noticed Harry was looking at him fearfully, he smiled, "I'm just kidding Harry," – he put an arm around Harry's shoulders, shaking him against his side – " I wouldn't make you do that in here."

"I wouldn't do it in here!"

"Like I said, piker," Oliver chuckled, guiding them over to one of the booths. He let his arm fall from around Harry and slid onto the comfortable seat. "Are you going to sit down?" Oliver said, patting the space next to him.

Even though the other side of the booth was empty, Harry did as the other boy requested, sliding in next to Oliver.

"Do you want another drink?" Oliver asked, "I'm going to get one."

"Yeah sure," Harry said and he had to turn slightly so that he could look at Oliver. Their legs brushed under the table and Harry's skin tingled at the contact.

Oliver signalled for the waitress, ordering two drinks. "Do you want to play another game after this?" Oliver said after she left to fill out their order, "That'll make it the best of three!"

"I really don't think we need to," Harry giggled, deciding to come clean. "You'll definitely win. Fred put a spell on me last week so I could play…"

"I knew it," Oliver laughed heartily, "No offence, but you are really bad at billiards."

"I know, I know," Harry agreed whole-heartedly. "But I didn't know I was cheating till after…" Harry added, feeling the need to clarify, "It was all Fred's idea…"

Once the waitress came back, Harry and Oliver quietly sipped their drinks as they watched Kirk try to beat Jackson at Billiards. While Kirk wasn't as bad as Harry, he certainly wasn't very good. For a while Oliver provided a very amusing commentary to the match but they eventually settled into a contented silence. In the end, Jackson thumped the other boy convincingly.

Whenever they weren't talking Harry couldn't help feeling very aware of the boy beside him. Where their legs touched under the table, Harry's skin felt as though it were on fire and his stomach fluttered excitedly. He wondered if Oliver felt it, or if it was nothing to the other boy.

"I forgot to mention before," Oliver said interrupting Harry from his thoughts, "Thanks for the present."

"Did you like it?" Harry asked curiously.

"We love it," Oliver said, smiling sincerely at Harry, "We're already fighting over who gets to keep it when we grow up and stop rooming together."

Harry chuckled. Ron and himself had the same argument about certain things in their house. The main source of contention was a particularly snazzy blender, neither boy knew how to use it, or even wanted to learn, but they were both very in love with it nonetheless.  He explained some of the arguments he'd had with Ron and the other boy chuckled at his side.

From there the conversation led to a full-blown discussion on share house living and ladsy things. Oliver kept the barmaid busy, frequently requesting drinks, and he had Harry in stitches with his Quidditch tales from the road. Harry couldn't believe some of the things the players got up to when they were playing away games. Their rowdy singing tonight was nothing in comparison to Oliver's stories.

"The loved ones are here tonight," Oliver chuckled, "It has a bit of a sobering effect on the boy's." 

Boys being boys, Harry could just imagine.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Harry said a little while later, the niggling sensation in his bladder finally getting to him, "I'll be back in a bit." Harry smiled, sliding out of the booth.

Harry rushed off quickly. Now that he was standing, he really needed the toilet and he hurried to the bathroom as quickly as he could. He sighed in contentment when he finally had the chance to let all the alcohol out. He felt great after, more than ready for some fresh drinks and some more of Oliver.

He was making his way back to Oliver when he saw Fred dancing in front of the jukebox. No one else in the pub was dancing; just Fred, and he didn't seem to care. Harry smiled at Fred when he caught his friends eye and the other boy beckoned him over.

"Dance with me, Harry," Fred smiled, holding out his hand for Harry to take.

It was one thing for Fred to do it (which was funny) and quite another thing entirely for himself, "You're not really supposed to…"

"Just dance with me Harry," Fred said firmly.

Sighing, Harry took his hand and half-heartedly moved to the music. "Work it a little, Harry," Fred demanded.

"I'm not a whore," Harry sniggered but he started to move more in time to the music and with a little more energy. It was by no means the dancing prowess he could show on a podium and even though he was pissed, he was rather conscious of the fact that they were the only people dancing.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, noticing Fred was staring at something across the room.

"Just checking something," Fred murmured absentmindedly.

Harry followed the direction of Fred's gaze and his feet stopped moving in time to the music. Oliver was twisted around in the booth, looking right at him. When he noticed Harry was looking, he spun back around quickly.

"Maybe I should get back," said Harry, making as if to leave, "I said I'd only be a minute."

"Don't you dare stop dancing!" Fred commanded. He made a funny gesture to someone across the room but Harry didn't see whom it was. "Just stay for one more song," Fred said, turning his attention back to Harry.

Just then a song by The Cure started to play on the jukebox and Harry smiled.  "Okay. One song," he agreed.

Forgetting about the other people in the pub, Harry sung along to the song as he moved to the music. Fred also sang along, only his efforts were louder and his dancing downright dangerous. When the song ended and a heavier one came on in its place, Harry stopped. "I'm going to go back now," Harry yelled over the music, motioning to the corner of the room where their party was. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed that Jackson was sitting in his seat beside Oliver.

"Before you go I want you to promise me something."

"What?" Harry asked in surprise.

"When you get back, you'll make a move on Oliver."

"Fred!" said Harry annoyed, "I'm not going to do that…"

"You will!" Fred said stubbornly. "For God's sake Harry, your bumbling around each other like two bitches in heat and neither of you has the balls to do anything about it," Fred spoke passionately, "I don't mind telling you that it's very frustrating to watch!"

Harry burst out laughing and he had to put a hand out to stop Fred, who had obviously decided to try and beat some sense into him. "I'll try," Harry lied so Fred would leave him alone.

"Thank God for that!" Fred said, "Jackson is giving Oliver the same talk, so hopefully we'll see some action soon." He sounded very excited at the prospect and, with a smack to Harry's rear; he pushed him in Oliver's general direction.

Harry nervously made his back. When he was half way there, Jackson left Oliver and Harry felt himself blush. Fred and Jackson's interference, while nicely intended, made Harry feel thoroughly set up. It was like he was fifteen again and he needed his friends help to score. It was humiliating and when he finally reached the booth, Harry avoided looking at Oliver and he made to sit on the other side.

Oliver however, had other ideas. He took a hold on Harry's wrist and gently tugged, until Harry fell awkwardly into the booth. Harry had to put a hand on Oliver's chest to stop himself from colliding with the other boy.

"Sorry," Harry laughed nervously, lifting his eyes to meet the other boys.

He gulped.

"S'alright," Oliver said in a husky voice. Giving Harry a sexy little smile, Oliver lowered his head and touched his lips to Harry's softly.

Not quite believing it was happening, Harry tentatively moved his lips over Oliver's. Soft, warm flesh moved sweetly against his, taking the first steps of exploration. They were real, Harry thought, this wasn't one of his vivid fantasies. When Oliver nibbled on his bottom lip, Harry shivered and gave an involuntary whimper. Oliver smiled against his lips, gave Harry a peck and drew back slightly.

"I've wanted to do that since I saw you at the club," Oliver smiled and Harry noticed his cheeks were a little red. Harry himself was grinning like a Cheshire cat, which Oliver obviously took as a good sign because he said, "Do you want to get out of here?"

Harry nodded, "Are we going with the other's or…"

"Look at them Harry," Oliver said, nodding to something over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned around in time to see Fred bent over a table with Jackson standing behind. They both gave Harry a thumbs up sign, "Do you really want to go to a club with them? They'll be unbearable…"

"I suppose you're right," Harry chuckled.

"Good," Oliver grinned, coaxing Harry to slide out the booth, "because I want you to teach me to dance again." He slipped an arm across Harry's shoulder. "And I'd really rather Jackson wasn't there. You should have heard how much shit he gave me last time…"