~By: Pixie~
Chapter Six: Mistake
Seems like I was always running,From someone or something,
So scared what life could hold,
Didn't even want to know,
Each day I would stand against it,
Put up my defenses,
Wouldn't let nobody inside,
Then you walked in my life.
~Keep On Walking : Ronan Keating~
"It takes very little water to turn dust into mud." – P.K.Shaw.
Argh, Caoilin thought don't say my last name like that with your lovely accent. She looked up into his eyes again. Then at the floor. His eyes. The floor. His eyes. And then she did something she wouldn't have done if she were thinking clearly.
Caoilin stepped on Oliver's unshod foot. Hard. While he yelped in pain, doing a very strange jig on one foot, her eyes widened with shock. Of all the obscene things to do. Sure, she'd call teachers by their first names and yell back if she wanted to, but physically assaulting someone just wasn't in her character.
She dashed up the stairs, her homework books still strewn all over the common room floor. She'd get them in the morning.
~*~
Over the next couple of days, Caoilin Mac Brádaigh, the would-be loudest loud-mouth girl ever to come to Hogwarts turned quickly into the quietest girl who'd ever came to Hogwarts. She was even more introverted than Alyssa Mills, a first year Hufflepuff who hadn't spoken more than five words since the year began unless answering a teacher.
For the first time in Caoilin's life, schoolwork took first priority. No matter how much it should have pleased her that her homework tasks came back to her with 100% written on the top of them at a regular interval, she just couldn't bring herself to be happy over it.
To all appearances, it seemed that Caoilin had simply forgotten how to communicate with other people, unless she absolutely had to. She slipped from class to class and then to dinner and back to her dorm each day like a dainty shadow, her face lacking expression.
Oliver on the other hand, was very much still involved with the human race. A bit down on spirits though, there'd been two quidditch games in the past four days and both coming to a result that wasn't particularly favorable towards Gryffindor's interests for the Cup.
"So," Angelina said, after quidditch training had ended "where's your miracle plan Wood?"
Oliver shrugged. He knew he'd lost that 'miracle' for them. Due to a bit (or a lot) or snotty behavior. "Well, you see," he mumbled for a bit and then came to his senses. "I'll have to get back to you all on that one." A plan was in great need.
"Wood, what ever happened to that strange girl," George wanted to know.
"That one with the self-righteous look about her," Fred put in.
"Good looks but a damned strange name," George finished off.
"She doesn't want to play, she quit remember,"
"Yeah we remember," George said "but won't she play if you like apologize or something?"
Oliver snorted. "I really doubt that guys,"
"Why?"
"Well, for starters, I've already apologized, and she stood on my foot instead of accepting it,"
"Oh," the team murmured.
"Why don't you talk to her again Oliver?" Harry put in
"And have her maul another one of my feet?" Wood exclaimed, "I don't think so."
"Come on Wood," Angelina pleaded "its not that bad, she's so docile and quiet these days I don't think she'd even try to harm you again,"
"You'll be fine," Fred said, pushing Oliver out of the dressing room "just go and talk to her."
"Where on earth am I going to find her?" Oliver demanded, "She's being damned anti-social lately."
"And darn right mean," George smirked "I saw her walking away from someone with a full body bind on them the other day, didn't even stop to do the counter-curse." He shook his head.
"Anyway," Fred said, clearing his throat pointedly "she'll be in the library right now, considering its Sunday and I've heard she lives in there on weekends."
"Oh," Oliver said, and he set off to find 'the strange girl, with the damned strange name'.
~*~
Oliver Wood sauntered into the library just before lunch that day, changed out of his quidditch gear, showered, and hell, he even had some cologne on. Who knows what it'd take to get Caoilin to agree to be on the team again, he thought when he was getting changed in the steamy bathroom.
He glanced over to the couches at the entrance of the library, trying to spy Caoilin sitting there, but realized fleetingly that that would be "normal" to be found there and instantly walked in the direction of the restricted section. Sneaking in quickly, he spotted a large pile of books on the floor strangely. This section was normally the most maliciously cleaned so he knew that Caoilin would be nearby.
Sure enough, there she was. Sitting with her back against the wall she seemed very small, very vulnerable and still very scary. He cringed as his toes remembered the pain. Her long brown hair was held up in a messy ponytail, snippets of it were coming out all over the place, falling onto her porcelain skin. Long dark lashes shaded Caoilin's eyes and she chewed on her lower lip absently as she read.
Picture perfect. But by now Oliver knew that appearances weren't everything-especially with Caoilin Mac Brádaigh.
"Caoilin," he started.
She looked up, startled. An arched eyebrow rose.
"I'm sure you've heard about Gryffindor's predicament?" Oliver talked on "They've sent me to ask you to play for us."
The arched brow rose further, and was in danger of disappearing in her hairline. Oliver Wood, was asking her to play for them? No chance in hell, she thought to herself and began to read again.
"Please?" Oliver had sat down beside her now, and the pleading in his voice was rather evident.
No, she thought angrily, god, how long does it take you to figure these things out?
"Caoilin?" he said, almost timidly "would you at least consider looking at me and answering? I'm not a mind reader you know."
Obviously, she thought dryly but turned her head to face him.
"What do you want?" her words were picked out intricately with her Irish accent.
"For you to play quidditch for Gryffindor," he said solemnly. Caoilin looked into his eyes, searching them harshly. Her eyebrow rose again. Carefully and quickly, she closed the distance between them and kissed him soundly and fast.
"No, Oliver Wood," she said, standing up "you don't want me to play for Gryffindor. You just want to win that's all. You don't care for me one bit, and I'm not playing quidditch for you, if ever, before you can at least consider me a friend."
Caoilin Mac Brádaigh picked up her books and stalked out of the Restricted Section, leaving a very confused, and slightly dizzy Oliver Wood behind.
~#~#~#~#~0~#~#~#~#~
End of Chapter Six.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews,
Hope you liked this chapter…
Next chapter will be out on Friday, but
If more than ten reviews are received,
It will be posted when the ten reviews for this chapter are received.
~Pixie~
Chapter Seven:
They consolidate. A bit. But they argue. Of course.
And work out what the hell was with that kiss?