Chapter Five
Surprise, Surprise. . .Again
[AN:] Yes, yes, the much awaited chapter five has been posted. . .FINALLY! I had written it in a notebook that I keep next to my bed in case I get any ideas and never typed it up. LoL yeah I have a short memory span. I even started the whole chapter over before I even realized that I had already written it. Well, here it is, and PLEASE review. Please ask questions, comment, etc. I really want reviewers LoL so yeah. Well, here we go, Chapter five! WooHoo!
Fred couldn't believe his eyes. He didn't know whether to scream at the top of his lungs or to walk away and pretend he hadn't seen anything.
Right in front of him was Oliver, pinning Harry to the wall and kissing him with so much passion that Fred would have thought he were watching a bad soap opera.
Fred began to retreat, but before he could get any further, Oliver turned around, breaking away from the kiss. His jaw dropped and he froze right in his tracks.
"H-hiya Fred," he said nervously.
Fred didn't bother answering. He turned around and left.
* * * * *
Once he got to the boy's dorms he slammed the door shut and put a locking charm on it.
Why was he so angry? Why did he even care? After all, this *was* the reason he agreed to help Oliver. So why was he boiling with hatred toward Harry?
Before he had a chance to answer these questions, there was a knock at the door. Fred didn't even have to ask who it was.
"Go away Wood," he said coldly, hatred slipping his lips.
"Not until we talk," was the boy's reply.
Fred simply sat on his bed and stared at the door. There was no way he could get in. . .was there? He shook his head, definately not.
He could hear footsteps retrieving and figured Oliver decided against trying to talk to him.
Fred stretched out on his bed, face down. What was going on with him lately? He had never cared much for Wood. . .Okay maybe he had, but he had felt nothing more than a strong friendship between them. That was all he wanted anyways. So why was it that everytime he heard Oliver speak of Harry the way he did, he would wince?
Suddenly there was a noise. It sounded like a dozen owls approaching the window. 'Guess he decided to write to me,' he thought.
He looked over to the window expecting an owl but instead, recieved a brunnette boy on a broom.
"What the. . .," he began, searching for something to say.
"Shut up Weasley. I want to talk to you. And you're gonna listen," said Oliver as he walked over to Fred, forced him to a sitting position on the bed, and pulled up a seat in front of him.
Fred just sat there with a stupid look in his face.
"What the hell is your problem?!" screamed Oliver once Fred's facial expression had returned to normal.
"What the hell is wrong with *me*? What the hell is wrong with you!" he replied.
"Nothing! I'm not the one who agrees to help out a friend and then freaks out when he realizes his plan worked!" said Oliver turning red faced.
Fred just stared at him. He was right. But he wasn't about to admit this. "You didn't use my advice Wood. You did what ever the hell you wanted to."
"Yeah," began Oliver, "And it worked." Fred looked down. "Isn't this what you had agreed to Fred? Helping me get Harry?" said Oliver in a confused tone of voice.
Fred cleared his throat. "Yeah," he replied. "It's just that. . ."
"It's just that what?" said Oliver in a caring tone.
More than anything Fred wanted to tell him what he was feeling. He wanted to tell him how angry it made him when he heard Oliver talk about Harry as if he was some sort of God. He wanted some kind of explanation for all of this from his friend. But he knew there was none, and he knew he couldn't say a word. So instead, he sighed and looked up at his friend who was watching him closely.
"Nothing," he began, "it's nothing." Then he got up and walked over to the door. But this wasn't how Oliver wanted the talk to end, so he blocked Fred's exit.
"Look, is there something wrong? You know you can tell me. Is it your brother? Did he do something? Or are your parents giving you trouble?"
Fred smiled. He wished it were that simple. "No, it's nothing. I've just been feeling really fucked up lately." Then he looked back down to the floor. "I'm gonna go now. I need to meet someone."
Oliver smiled, "Oh! Fred Weasley! Are you meeting that seventh year you've fancied for a while? Is that who you're meeting? How come you didn't tell me? How long have you two been meeting?"
Fred laughed, "No, no, we're not meeting. It's not her who I'm meeting. Just relax."
Oliver smiled. "Alright buddy. I'll let you go. Tell me later how your night goes," he said in a teasing voice.
Fred walked around his friend and left.
Surprise, Surprise. . .Again
[AN:] Yes, yes, the much awaited chapter five has been posted. . .FINALLY! I had written it in a notebook that I keep next to my bed in case I get any ideas and never typed it up. LoL yeah I have a short memory span. I even started the whole chapter over before I even realized that I had already written it. Well, here it is, and PLEASE review. Please ask questions, comment, etc. I really want reviewers LoL so yeah. Well, here we go, Chapter five! WooHoo!
Fred couldn't believe his eyes. He didn't know whether to scream at the top of his lungs or to walk away and pretend he hadn't seen anything.
Right in front of him was Oliver, pinning Harry to the wall and kissing him with so much passion that Fred would have thought he were watching a bad soap opera.
Fred began to retreat, but before he could get any further, Oliver turned around, breaking away from the kiss. His jaw dropped and he froze right in his tracks.
"H-hiya Fred," he said nervously.
Fred didn't bother answering. He turned around and left.
* * * * *
Once he got to the boy's dorms he slammed the door shut and put a locking charm on it.
Why was he so angry? Why did he even care? After all, this *was* the reason he agreed to help Oliver. So why was he boiling with hatred toward Harry?
Before he had a chance to answer these questions, there was a knock at the door. Fred didn't even have to ask who it was.
"Go away Wood," he said coldly, hatred slipping his lips.
"Not until we talk," was the boy's reply.
Fred simply sat on his bed and stared at the door. There was no way he could get in. . .was there? He shook his head, definately not.
He could hear footsteps retrieving and figured Oliver decided against trying to talk to him.
Fred stretched out on his bed, face down. What was going on with him lately? He had never cared much for Wood. . .Okay maybe he had, but he had felt nothing more than a strong friendship between them. That was all he wanted anyways. So why was it that everytime he heard Oliver speak of Harry the way he did, he would wince?
Suddenly there was a noise. It sounded like a dozen owls approaching the window. 'Guess he decided to write to me,' he thought.
He looked over to the window expecting an owl but instead, recieved a brunnette boy on a broom.
"What the. . .," he began, searching for something to say.
"Shut up Weasley. I want to talk to you. And you're gonna listen," said Oliver as he walked over to Fred, forced him to a sitting position on the bed, and pulled up a seat in front of him.
Fred just sat there with a stupid look in his face.
"What the hell is your problem?!" screamed Oliver once Fred's facial expression had returned to normal.
"What the hell is wrong with *me*? What the hell is wrong with you!" he replied.
"Nothing! I'm not the one who agrees to help out a friend and then freaks out when he realizes his plan worked!" said Oliver turning red faced.
Fred just stared at him. He was right. But he wasn't about to admit this. "You didn't use my advice Wood. You did what ever the hell you wanted to."
"Yeah," began Oliver, "And it worked." Fred looked down. "Isn't this what you had agreed to Fred? Helping me get Harry?" said Oliver in a confused tone of voice.
Fred cleared his throat. "Yeah," he replied. "It's just that. . ."
"It's just that what?" said Oliver in a caring tone.
More than anything Fred wanted to tell him what he was feeling. He wanted to tell him how angry it made him when he heard Oliver talk about Harry as if he was some sort of God. He wanted some kind of explanation for all of this from his friend. But he knew there was none, and he knew he couldn't say a word. So instead, he sighed and looked up at his friend who was watching him closely.
"Nothing," he began, "it's nothing." Then he got up and walked over to the door. But this wasn't how Oliver wanted the talk to end, so he blocked Fred's exit.
"Look, is there something wrong? You know you can tell me. Is it your brother? Did he do something? Or are your parents giving you trouble?"
Fred smiled. He wished it were that simple. "No, it's nothing. I've just been feeling really fucked up lately." Then he looked back down to the floor. "I'm gonna go now. I need to meet someone."
Oliver smiled, "Oh! Fred Weasley! Are you meeting that seventh year you've fancied for a while? Is that who you're meeting? How come you didn't tell me? How long have you two been meeting?"
Fred laughed, "No, no, we're not meeting. It's not her who I'm meeting. Just relax."
Oliver smiled. "Alright buddy. I'll let you go. Tell me later how your night goes," he said in a teasing voice.
Fred walked around his friend and left.