When I woke up in the morning, I was a mess. My hair was frizzy, my
eyes had bags under them, and I was limping from exhaustion. I looked down
at my ring and it read, 'good morning, you look beautiful'. I smiled,
knowing that Oliver wasn't being sarcastic. Or at least I hoped he wasn't.
I hobbled into the bathroom to brush my hair, clean my teeth, and all of the other usual morning practices.
Fiona stomped in, looking like a hag, and quite easily, just as mad as one. She fiercely grabbed her comb and started 'brushing' her black hair. She was, in fact, attacking her hair more than combing it.
I eventually gave in. "Why Fiona! You seem quite in a bunch today, what is the matter?" I said in my sweetest voice, just to annoy her.
"I haven't been doing very well in Muggle Studies," she replied while still going at it with her hair.
"Oh?" I said and twirled a piece of my dark red hair around my finger. I let go and began washing my face, awaiting the next piece of her story.
"My Mum sent me a letter yesterday morning, I stuffed it into my pocket before anyone else could notice. The letter said that she was 'very upset' for not having me 'reach her expectations'. She said she's keeping me off of allowance until I get better grades!"
"That's it?" I mumbled while drying my face.
"What?" She said to me, puzzled, but knowing I had said something insulting.
"I said, that sucks"
"Yeah, it does," she reminisced in the thought for a moment, but then shook it off, "When's the next time you're going to see Oliver?"
"I don't know, at breakfast I s'pose," I wasn't very hungry, but I did anticipate seeing Oliver again.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------
We entered the Great Hall for breakfast and sat down at the Hufflepuff table, this time, far away from Nona. I looked up at Oliver and waved, and he smiled back.
I grabbed a croissant from a platter before they were all gone, and filled my glass with water. A small breakfast was just what I needed, nothing more, nothing less.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and stiffened up. I looked behind me to see that it was Oliver's hand! I relaxed on the outside, stiffening more on the inside.
"Hey," He said, and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. Inside, I was screaming 'Huzzah!' but on the outside, I just smiled and gave him a 'cheek kiss' back. He sat down next to me on the bench.
I smiled and said jokingly, "You might get in trouble for coming over here."
"It's worth the risk of losing five points. Plus, the teachers can't tell anything over the noise and all of the moving, the prefects are just eating, and the head boy and head girl are making out in the bathroom," He replied.
I laughed and looked at him, "Again? D'you think they'll get caught this time?"
"Nah, I doubt it," he said, "Listen, Hogsmeade Weekend is in a few days, do you want to come with me?"
"Sure, that would be great, I can't wait," I said, trying to contain some of my excitement.
"Great," He said and started to get up, but before he left, he turned to me, put a hand on my face, and kissed my lips softly.
I waved to him as he was leaving, and got up myself to leave the hall, as it was the end of breakfast.
Fiona was quick to follow me in leaving, excited beyond belief, "What was it like? Were his lips soft? Were they dry, or moist?"
"It was nice, soft and moist, but not too wet, I liked it," I said and smiled, going back to daydreaming once again.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
The next three days flew by, and soon, Hogsmeade weekend came. Fiona and I had carefully chosen what to wear the day before, so the hardest part was basically over. I just put my hair up, dabbed on a little mascara, some silver eye shadow on the crease of my eyes, some clear lippy, just the necessities, as Fiona calls them.
"You look drop dead gorgeous!" Fiona exclaimed when I came out, "That sweater and skirt pair really does it for you. Not to mention the boots. Very nice!"
"You're just saying that because you picked it out!"
"I know, but you look pretty all the same," She said and smiled. I grinned back.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------
I sat at a table in Madam Puddifoot's, the place where Oliver and I had agreed to meet at lunch two days ago. I scanned the room for him, but only found three tables full. One had a couple sitting at it, the girl (who I recognized as the fourth year Paddi Loutfroot) stirring her tea looking quite bored, while a blonde haired boy with glasses was loudly relaying to her that 'even though his owl lost it's legs, he still gets his mail delivered'. At next table was a girl with very long, gorgeous red hair flowing over her shoulder. She was reading the Daily Prophet, and seemed to be alone. Two sisters, Mariel and Rohna Douien, occupied the last table. Mariel was telling Rohna about some seventh year being expelled, most likely just useless gossip.
My analyzation of the occupants was interrupted by Oliver's voice, and a kiss on the cheek. "Hi," he said as he sat down, grinning.
"Hey!" I smiled, "you surprised me!" His openness with public displays of affection didn't bother me at all. In fact, I kind of liked it. He must've read my mind, because he bent over the table and kissed me, his tongue approaching my lips, but we were disrupted by the sound of the red haired girl having a coughing fit. I could have sworn she was looking at us when we were kissing, but I just shook it off.
"Are you okay?" Oliver said over to her, being the gentleman that he is.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said quietly, "my tea must've gone down the wrong way." She smiled at him and he nodded, turning back to me.
"So, where were we?" He asked, and went back to kissing me. Unfortunately, we were once more interrupted, this time by a waitress, asking us what we would like to have.
"We'll have a mocha latte to share," I said, after some deliberating with Oliver. The red haired girl was leaving, and it seemed like she had gone out of her way to get near Oliver and I, when she tripped and fell over what seemed to be an oddly well-placed spoon.
Oliver and I got up to help her, me with a little more reluctance than he.
"I seem to be a little clumsy today, I'm sorry about that," she said, "Excuse me for being rude, my name is Sarah Sorden."
"I'm Diona Vaise, and this is my boyfriend Oliver Wood. I don't believe I've seen you around Hogwarts before."
"Rightly so. I was studying in the Routien School in France before transferring to Hogwarts. My father's job got transferred, he's a famous journalist, Troy Sorden, you may have heard of him.
"Oh! Troy Sorden! My mum reads his stuff all the time!" Oliver said, actually looking interested in the conversation.
"Yes, well, Oliver, we mustn't keep Sarah here too long, I'm quite sure she has very important things to do," I replied stiffly.
"Oh yes, and I really must be going," She said, "I have to go pick up a few things for school. Au revoir!" I cringed when she said it, her French accent so perfectly sculpted.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Oliver asked, "I know a nice little quiet spot around here."
"Sure," I said, and we walked out of Madam Puddifoot's hand in hand.
I hobbled into the bathroom to brush my hair, clean my teeth, and all of the other usual morning practices.
Fiona stomped in, looking like a hag, and quite easily, just as mad as one. She fiercely grabbed her comb and started 'brushing' her black hair. She was, in fact, attacking her hair more than combing it.
I eventually gave in. "Why Fiona! You seem quite in a bunch today, what is the matter?" I said in my sweetest voice, just to annoy her.
"I haven't been doing very well in Muggle Studies," she replied while still going at it with her hair.
"Oh?" I said and twirled a piece of my dark red hair around my finger. I let go and began washing my face, awaiting the next piece of her story.
"My Mum sent me a letter yesterday morning, I stuffed it into my pocket before anyone else could notice. The letter said that she was 'very upset' for not having me 'reach her expectations'. She said she's keeping me off of allowance until I get better grades!"
"That's it?" I mumbled while drying my face.
"What?" She said to me, puzzled, but knowing I had said something insulting.
"I said, that sucks"
"Yeah, it does," she reminisced in the thought for a moment, but then shook it off, "When's the next time you're going to see Oliver?"
"I don't know, at breakfast I s'pose," I wasn't very hungry, but I did anticipate seeing Oliver again.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------
We entered the Great Hall for breakfast and sat down at the Hufflepuff table, this time, far away from Nona. I looked up at Oliver and waved, and he smiled back.
I grabbed a croissant from a platter before they were all gone, and filled my glass with water. A small breakfast was just what I needed, nothing more, nothing less.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and stiffened up. I looked behind me to see that it was Oliver's hand! I relaxed on the outside, stiffening more on the inside.
"Hey," He said, and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. Inside, I was screaming 'Huzzah!' but on the outside, I just smiled and gave him a 'cheek kiss' back. He sat down next to me on the bench.
I smiled and said jokingly, "You might get in trouble for coming over here."
"It's worth the risk of losing five points. Plus, the teachers can't tell anything over the noise and all of the moving, the prefects are just eating, and the head boy and head girl are making out in the bathroom," He replied.
I laughed and looked at him, "Again? D'you think they'll get caught this time?"
"Nah, I doubt it," he said, "Listen, Hogsmeade Weekend is in a few days, do you want to come with me?"
"Sure, that would be great, I can't wait," I said, trying to contain some of my excitement.
"Great," He said and started to get up, but before he left, he turned to me, put a hand on my face, and kissed my lips softly.
I waved to him as he was leaving, and got up myself to leave the hall, as it was the end of breakfast.
Fiona was quick to follow me in leaving, excited beyond belief, "What was it like? Were his lips soft? Were they dry, or moist?"
"It was nice, soft and moist, but not too wet, I liked it," I said and smiled, going back to daydreaming once again.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
The next three days flew by, and soon, Hogsmeade weekend came. Fiona and I had carefully chosen what to wear the day before, so the hardest part was basically over. I just put my hair up, dabbed on a little mascara, some silver eye shadow on the crease of my eyes, some clear lippy, just the necessities, as Fiona calls them.
"You look drop dead gorgeous!" Fiona exclaimed when I came out, "That sweater and skirt pair really does it for you. Not to mention the boots. Very nice!"
"You're just saying that because you picked it out!"
"I know, but you look pretty all the same," She said and smiled. I grinned back.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------
I sat at a table in Madam Puddifoot's, the place where Oliver and I had agreed to meet at lunch two days ago. I scanned the room for him, but only found three tables full. One had a couple sitting at it, the girl (who I recognized as the fourth year Paddi Loutfroot) stirring her tea looking quite bored, while a blonde haired boy with glasses was loudly relaying to her that 'even though his owl lost it's legs, he still gets his mail delivered'. At next table was a girl with very long, gorgeous red hair flowing over her shoulder. She was reading the Daily Prophet, and seemed to be alone. Two sisters, Mariel and Rohna Douien, occupied the last table. Mariel was telling Rohna about some seventh year being expelled, most likely just useless gossip.
My analyzation of the occupants was interrupted by Oliver's voice, and a kiss on the cheek. "Hi," he said as he sat down, grinning.
"Hey!" I smiled, "you surprised me!" His openness with public displays of affection didn't bother me at all. In fact, I kind of liked it. He must've read my mind, because he bent over the table and kissed me, his tongue approaching my lips, but we were disrupted by the sound of the red haired girl having a coughing fit. I could have sworn she was looking at us when we were kissing, but I just shook it off.
"Are you okay?" Oliver said over to her, being the gentleman that he is.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said quietly, "my tea must've gone down the wrong way." She smiled at him and he nodded, turning back to me.
"So, where were we?" He asked, and went back to kissing me. Unfortunately, we were once more interrupted, this time by a waitress, asking us what we would like to have.
"We'll have a mocha latte to share," I said, after some deliberating with Oliver. The red haired girl was leaving, and it seemed like she had gone out of her way to get near Oliver and I, when she tripped and fell over what seemed to be an oddly well-placed spoon.
Oliver and I got up to help her, me with a little more reluctance than he.
"I seem to be a little clumsy today, I'm sorry about that," she said, "Excuse me for being rude, my name is Sarah Sorden."
"I'm Diona Vaise, and this is my boyfriend Oliver Wood. I don't believe I've seen you around Hogwarts before."
"Rightly so. I was studying in the Routien School in France before transferring to Hogwarts. My father's job got transferred, he's a famous journalist, Troy Sorden, you may have heard of him.
"Oh! Troy Sorden! My mum reads his stuff all the time!" Oliver said, actually looking interested in the conversation.
"Yes, well, Oliver, we mustn't keep Sarah here too long, I'm quite sure she has very important things to do," I replied stiffly.
"Oh yes, and I really must be going," She said, "I have to go pick up a few things for school. Au revoir!" I cringed when she said it, her French accent so perfectly sculpted.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Oliver asked, "I know a nice little quiet spot around here."
"Sure," I said, and we walked out of Madam Puddifoot's hand in hand.
