New Dreams for Old
Chapter 1
In Our Dreams
Yet it is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top.
-Virgina Woolf
Katie Bell woke with a start. Her heart was pounding frantically against her ribs, and as the sound of the sea began to fade with the dream, she could hear her own breath, heavy and trembling slightly. Her hands shook as she ran them through her tousled curls, then over the back of her neck. She let them linger there for a moment as she took a first cursory glance at her surroundings.
She was in her own bed. The bed sheets and blankets lay around her in disarray, and one of her pillows had been flung to the foot of the bed and stuffed into the narrow crack between the mattress and footboard. She reached down rather mechanically and grasped the corner of the pillow, then pulled it back and folded it into her arms as she looked around again. She was safe, and at home.
She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 5:52. The light outside was just beginning to gain the rosy softness of sunrise. The window was still partially open, and the sheer white curtains were fluttering softly in a gentle morning breeze. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then lay back against the remaining pillows and pulled the one in her arms more tightly to her chest. She toyed with the fabric at one corner, pulling and twisting it in her fingers as her mind drifted back to the dream.
The faintest hint of a smile pulled at her lips. It hadn't been a terrible dream, overall. There was the fact that they had apparently been running for their lives, and although she wasn't particularly afraid of heights, the idea of jumping off of a cliff into the sea was more than a little unnerving. But he had been there, pulling her by the hand, lifting her when she fell, laughing and smiling and holding her close, whispering to her in that husky Scottish brogue that sent shivers over her skin. I love you too, Katie…. And the kiss… Oh, Merlin, the kiss….
Her fingers stopped toying with the corner of the pillow, and the smile faded from her lips as a vague recognition began to prick at the corners of her thoughts. The dark eyes, the boyish smile, the brogue…. The face from her dream came clearly into focus. The eyes were unmistakable, even under the thick chestnut curls. And the grin…. Katie groaned miserably and threw the pillow over her face, clutching it with both hands.
Oliver.
She let out a muffled scream and pulled the pillow more tightly against her face. It was the third time that she had dreamt about Oliver in as many days. It was silly, really. She hadn't heard from him in almost a year and a half, and it had been longer than that since she had actually seen him. She had almost convinced herself that she had forgotten all about him.
Almost.
Katie sighed and relaxed her arms, but left the pillow where it was. She supposed she could blame her recent dreams on the article in the Daily Prophet a few days earlier about Puddlemere's match against the Ballycastle Bats, in which young reserve Keeper Oliver Wood had managed a "series of truly spectacular saves after veteran Keeper Andrew Radcliffe was sent to the infirmary nearly an hour into the match. Radcliffe had suffered what healers are calling a 'serious concussion' during a rather nasty stooging incident involving Radcliffe and the three Ballycastle chasers. He is listed in stable condition at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and the chasers involved have been suspended from play for no less than three…."
With her face still completely covered by her pillow, Katie reached for the newspaper that still lay on her bedside table. She groped blindly until she felt it under her fingers, and then pulled it sharply from the table, ignoring the heavier thump as some other object fell to the floor and landed somewhere under the bed. She took a deep breath and threw off the pillow with her free hand, leaned over to turn on the small lamp and finally pulled the newspaper to her face. It was still folded open to the sports pages.
At the top of the page, directly under the headline "Wood Does Good After Radcliffe Rammed," was a large photograph of Puddlemere Keeper Andrew Radcliffe being taken from the pitch on a white stretcher, surrounded by reporters, mediwitches and the few eager fans that had managed to make their way down from the closest bleachers. Smaller than the first photograph, and further down into the article, there was a black and white picture of "Puddlemere United reserve Keeper Oliver Wood" zipping back and forth in front of the Puddlemere goal hoops, his robes flying wildly behind him and what could only be described as an ecstatic grin on his face.
But that wasn't the picture she had been looking for. It was another small picture, black and white again, under a much smaller headline reading, "Saving the Day the Oliver Way." It was a very brief article describing Oliver's performance in the match against Ballycastle, in which he had made seven "truly inspired" saves before Geoffrey Dane, the Seeker for Puddlemere, caught the Golden Snitch and ended the game with a score of 260-210 in favor of Puddlemere United.
In the photograph, Oliver Wood was flying back and forth between the three goal hoops, his dark eyes intense as he watched the opposing team fly toward the goal. A chaser neared the hoop, paused, threw the quaffle. Oliver did a short dive, spun on his broom, and knocked the quaffle easily away, tossing his hair from his eyes in an impatient gesture. His hair was a bit longer than it had been during his years at Hogwarts, and had taken on a slight curl as it neared the collar of his Quidditch robes. Katie felt a smile pull at her lips. She rather liked it, actually, though she would never admit that to anyone. Particularly Oliver.
As she watched, the tiny Oliver flew back into position, looked toward the camera (and consequently at Katie), flashed a rather lopsided smile and winked.
Katie groaned in frustration and smacked the newspaper against the sheets, then lifted it again and returned her attention to the small picture of Wood. The sequence had begun again, and she watched with a sigh as he made the save, returned to his place in front of the hoops, smiled, and winked again.
"Oh, stop it." She muttered, sitting up against her pillows. "Just stop." The little Keeper smiled and winked again, then reappeared in front of the goal hoops, ready to make the save for the fourth time. Katie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching the tiny figure move over the page. "I'm over you. You do realize that."
The photographic Oliver winked again.
"I am!"
There must have been a glitch in the photographic process, because Katie could have sworn that the image of Oliver winked again.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, Oliver Wood! You always were an insufferable… cocky… arrogant… prat!"
Katie growled and sat up, throwing the newspaper back onto the bedside table. It hit the side of the table and fell back on the bed just in time for Katie to see the same spectacular save by "Puddlemere Reserve Keeper Oliver Wood" that she had already seen several times. She picked the paper up and threw it again. Again, it bounced off the side of the table and landed on the bed. With a muttered curse, Katie picked up the paper for the third time and threw it as hard as she could at the bedside table. The paper landed on the opposite edge of the table, hovered there for a moment, then fell to the floor with a rustle of paper.
Katie sighed, watching the paper disappear off of the table. Then she sat motionless for several minutes, watching the spot where the paper had disappeared. She considered getting out of bed to pick it up and replace it beside the clock, but she made no move to do so. She was tired, her blankets were warm, and she was suddenly very… very depressed. At last she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, falling back onto the pillows and throwing one arm up over her face.
When she pulled her arm away several moments later, the light in her bedroom had grown brighter, and the gentle morning breeze that had been rustling her curtains had died, leaving them to hang limply in front of the still-open window. She could hear the song of a bird in the tree outside her window, could just make out the sound of voices in the street below. One didn't usually hear people on the street this early in the morning. Katie closed her eyes, waited for a moment and then forced them open again.
The lamp on the bedside table was still on, throwing a weak light onto her face that was completely lost in the brilliant sunshine. She groaned softly and rolled onto her side, reaching out to pull the small chain that would turn off the light. As she did so, her eyes glanced quickly at the small clock before returning to the lamp. Her hand stopped just short of the pull chain, and her eyes flew back to the clock, widening slightly.
9:43
And in smaller letters beneath the time:
You're late, Katherine Bell!
With a cry somewhere between a gasp and a shriek, Katie threw off the blankets and jumped out of bed. Or rather, tried to jump out of bed. Her feet caught the pile of blankets and pillows at the foot of the bed and were tangled within seconds. The jump turned into more of a stumble, and Katie fell shoulder-first to the floor with a thud and a muffled curse.
She lay on the floor for a moment, catching her breath when she saw something peeking out from under the bed. That must have been what she heard earlier. She watched it curiously for a long moment, then turned slightly, reaching over herself with grunt and a wince to pull the object out of its hiding place.
It was a book, a paperback novel with tattered corners and the words "Pauline and the Pirate of Passion" printed on the cover in garish silver lettering. Under the title, a slender woman with flowing blond curls was being held in what Katie thought looked like a highly uncomfortable position by a handsome, long-haired man whose shirt had been thrown open to reveal an impressive expanse of tanned, well-defined chest and a set of abdominal muscles that looked as though they had been chiseled in stone.
Katie let her head fall back with a sigh and looked at the Passionate Pirate and his golden-haired paramour. They sat… lay? on a stony cliff with a turbulent sea in the background, a single old-fashioned ship appearing as little more than a speck on the horizon.
"Well, I guess that explains the pirate thing…." Katie mused under her breath, reaching up to slide the book onto the bedside table. She made a mental note to return the book to Alicia Spinnet as soon as possible, and, more importantly, to avoid any further literary suggestions from her friend.
She meant well, Katie knew, but Alicia had a tendency toward romantic melodrama, and her paperback novel collection was certainly no exception. Besides Pirate of Passion, Alicia had also lent to Katie The Wandering Wizard (An equally well-muscled and poorly-dressed man standing at the pinnacle of an ancient tower as a buxom brunette knelt in awe at his feet), Debutante of Destiny (This time it was the scantily-clad man who reclined at a voluptuous redhead's feet, staring up at her in mute adoration), and Captain Ignacio and the Mysterious Island of the Amazon Viper Women (That one was just… well, it had just been silly).
Katie laughed in spite of herself as she thought of Pauline's pirate and the dream that had woken her earlier. It could be worse, she supposed. Oliver could have appeared as the dashing Captain Ignacio, trapped in a crude cage of bamboo while she danced around him wearing a revealing two-piece bathing suit fashioned from what Katie could only assume was a leopard's skin. As it was, running through the forest with the roguish Captain Wood had been… Well, not fun, exactly, as they had been running for their lives, but it had been exciting. Romantic. Perfect.
And the kiss….
Katie groaned miserably as that line of thought began again, and she tried to push it from her mind as she pushed herself away from the floor. The clock now read 9:58. In two minutes, she would be officially late for work.
Katie shrugged her injured shoulder gingerly, whispering another curse under her breath as a jolt of pain raced down her arm. She would have to see to that later. There would be a bruise, maybe a pulled muscle. She shrugged her shoulder again, making a grim face as the pain shot down her arm again. A pulled muscle was a definite possibility. She remembered seeing a charm in one of her Mediwitchcraft textbooks that might be useful. Musculata Numen…? Yes, that was it.
She fumbled around on the nightstand until she found her wand, then waved it awkwardly over her shoulder and repeated the incantation. It took only a moment for the pain in her arm to fade into an almost imperceptible ache, and a faint smile flitted across Katie's face. The shoulder was still a bit stiff, but it would certainly do until Katie had more time to look into possible remedies.
Katie dropped her wand back onto the bedside table and turned toward the bathroom, collecting her dressing gown from where it lay draped over a battered chair. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, rubbed her hands over her face once, and started for the bathroom.
At that moment, there was a muffled roar from the other side of the bedroom door. Katie stopped and turned, a faint frown on her lips. She looked down. A faint green light was shimmering under the door, and it was only a moment later that a familiar voice was calling into the empty living room.
"Katie? Hey, Katie, are you there?"
Katie let out a sigh of relief and the frown changed quickly into a tired smile. She opened the door and peered around the edge of the doorframe toward the tiny fireplace tucked away in the corner of a living room that, in truth, was not a great deal larger than the fireplace. Hovering in a flickering cloud of green flame, the familiar face of Angelina Johnson was looking quickly around the living room, a faint frown creasing her forehead.
"Hey, Katie, I…" Her voice trailed off as her dark eyes met Katie's, and Angelina broke out into a grin. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you, girl! Where on Earth have you been?"
Katie stepped into the living room, yawning and laughing all at once as she ran a hand through her tangle of honey-colored curls. "'Morning, Angie."
Angelina let out a snort and did a fairly passable imitation of Katie's voice. "''Morning, Angie…'" She chuckled quietly and shook her head. "So what's up? Mr. Pendlesmythe said you hadn't come in yet. Everything all right?"
Katie nodded, flopping down onto a worn sofa near the fireplace. "Yeah. I just had a rough night, that's all." She let out a sighing laugh and shook her head, wondering how much she should tell her friend. She hadn't told Angelina or Alicia about the other dreams. She hadn't told anyone about the other dreams. Still, she looked at the fireplace with a wry smile, and almost before she knew it, she said, "I had the oddest dream."
Angelina raised a single dark eyebrow. "Oh, do tell…."
Katie laughed a little self-consciously, laying her head against the back of the sofa. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as images from her dream danced at the corners of her thoughts. She hesitated for a moment, then let them drift more fully into her mind. It was still so clear, so vivid. The feeling of the dry leaves under her feet, the crisp smell of the sea air, the sun on her face. The feeling of his fingers curling around hers, his breath on her hair, his whispers…."
"Katie?"
Katie started violently as Angelina's voice broke into her thoughts. Katie opened her eyes and sat up quickly, running both hands through her hair at once. She blinked slowly, shook her head to clear her thoughts, and looked back toward the fireplace. Angelina's face still hovered in the flames, a mischievous smirk pulling at her lips.
"Must have been some dream…."
Katie laughed as she felt a faint flush creep up her neck. "Not bad, really. Running through the forest, jumping off of cliffs, dashing pirate captain… You know, standard damsel-in-distress stuff."
Angelina snickered loudly. "You've been reading one of Al's books again, haven't you?"
Katie grinned and batted her eyelashes at her friend. "Pauline and the Passionate Pirate."
"Pirate of Passion."
Katie laughed and settled back against the sofa. "That's right. That's the one."
Angelina shook her head with a wry grin. "Yeah, she made me read that one. Not bad, actually, compared to some of the others. At least there were no Amazon Viper Women. I'm telling you, Katie, that girl needs to settle down. She's dangerous."
Katie laughed softly and lay her head back on the sofa. They sat for a moment in comfortable silence before Angelina spoke again.
"So, this 'dashing pirate captain…' Anyone I know?"
Katie's smile faltered slightly and she opened her eyes, lifting her head just enough to meet Angelina's gaze. Angelina raised her eyebrows in silent inquiry, and Katie let out a long breath. She laid her head back on the sofa. The sunlight through the curtains was throwing dancing patterns of light on the ceiling, and Katie watched them for a long moment, grateful for the distraction. It was no good. Oliver's face kept drifting in and out of her thoughts, and every time she tried to push it away, a small photographic Oliver winked at her with a sly grin.
"No one I want to talk about."
Angelina nodded slowly, understanding and a faint hint of concern creeping into her eyes. Katie and Angelina sat in silence for several minutes. Then the concern disappeared almost as quickly as it came, and Angelina broke out in another grin. "So, anyway… I'm meeting Al today for lunch. Want to come along?"
Katie lifted her head again, blinking her eyes slowly to clear away the stubborn sleepiness. "Umm… Yeah, all right." She looked back at Angelina. "What time?"
"12:30-ish. We can come and collect you, if you'd like. You're working today, aren't you?"
Katie nodded, stifling another yawn with a small hand. "Mm-hmm." She dropped her hand and stood up with a sigh, rolling her stiff shoulder as she glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was well after 10:00, and she had yet to shower and dress.
"Bugger. I'd better get going, actually. See you at lunch?"
Angelina nodded. "Yeah, I've got to go, myself. I told Fred I'd help out at the shop today, and I'm already late."
Katie smirked. "I'm sure he'll forgive you."
Angelina made a face, but the fondness in her eyes was unmistakable. "He'd better. Anyway, I'll see you later." She gave Katie a final grin and then disappeared.
The green flames vanished a moment later, and Katie stood alone in the living room, with only the persistent memory of Oliver's laughing eyes to keep her company. She frowned and rubbed her hands over her face again. He had been gone for well over a year, and she had moved on with her life. She had a job, a flat of her own, and a promising career ahead of her when she finished her mediwitch training. Why was it so difficult to push away the memories now?
Katie's eyes drifted to a small photograph on the mantel. It was a black-and-white photograph in a simple frame, taken just after Gryffindor's victory over Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup four years ago. In the picture, Angelina and Alicia were standing off to one side, looking up with silent laughter at a young Harry Potter, who looked decidedly uncomfortable oh his precarious perch atop the shoulders of the Weasley twins. They laughed and jostled him with identical mischievous grins while Katie stood on the other side, holding onto her broom with both hands and smiling somewhat bashfully at the camera. At her side stood Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood, a triumphant, rather boyish grin plastered on his face. He held his broom in one hand, and the other arm was thrown around Katie's shoulders. Every now and then he would pull her a bit closer in a little, strange sort of hug, and her smile would widen for just a moment before returning to its shy softness.
A hint of a smile pulled at Katie's lips. Life had been so simple then.
She sighed softly, then looked toward the window. She had left it open during the night as well, and the breeze that had disappeared earlier was back, lifting the curtains in a lazy sort of dance. It was almost hypnotic. Katie watched it for a little while, then walked over to the window with a sigh. She closed the sash, ran her fingers through her hair once more and headed for the bathroom. A shower, a very large cup of tea, and everything would look better. She hoped.
It was going to be a long day.
A/N: I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story already. I certainly was not expecting that sort of response in the first 24 hours! ^_^ Thank you all so much, and Tamira, I hope this chapter clears things up for you. ^_^
Updates will not usually be this quick. I have had the Prologue and most of Chapter 1 ready for quite some time, and I wanted to post them close together so that there wouldn't be too much confusion regarding what was happening the Prologue. I will try to do further updates as quickly as I can, but life can be a little hectic at times! ^_^
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter or the books by J.K. Rowling. I simply have a severe case of novel envy.
