Fixing to Fly
Chapter Nineteen
Author's Note: Okay, so I lied a little. It appears as though Chapter Twenty will be the big Quidditch match, which is fine, as I think it deserves its own chapter anyway. This is just a little shorty chapter I wrote, though I'm very pleased with the way it turned out… and I think you'll all be quite pleased with what happens.
And now, some love for my reviewers: yay new reviewers! A huge thank you and much love sent to: Joanna, Shellie, berryangel, and Anoriel, the newest members of the F2F reviewers' community. You guys are awesome! And an additional thanks to Josie for telling Shellie about my story; I owe you a huge debt of gratitude for providing me with some free publicity, not to mention your oh-so-kind and insightful reviews of all my chapters!
And since I haven't done it in a while, a little quick individual love for all my repeat reviewers: *Christi ~ Tell God I'm working on it. ;) *Kat ~ You remain the most amazing and fantastic person I know when it comes to writing advice and overall friendship. Thanks sweety! *Jessika ~ No chapter is complete without one of your reviews! Thanks for the info on Book 5, also; I ordered online at barnesandnoble.com. *pokElilpupE ~ You've always given me the best and most detailed reviews and your comments on what you like about the chapters really help me when I write. Thank you so much! *Amerz & Carlyn ~ Not only are you my buds at school, you're also sweet enough to review online too! *sniffle* I heart you guys so much!! *shewhodares, Fearless, Cal, WannabeHobbit, No Name Face, Puppy, D. Henderson, and dracos-gurl, you have ALL been amazingly supportive and I can't thank any of you enough for your indispensable input.
If I've forgotten anyone, please understand that it was in no way intentional. All my reviewers have been like oxygen to me while writing this story; I live and breathe off all the wonderful, encouraging messages you leave me. I will never be able to thank you all enough.
Hey, is it me, or does everybody hate KOTTER??? ;) Chapter Nineteen's up!
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It took less than five minutes for Oliver to come searching for her, despite her parting request to stay put. The tiny black box with its disturbing contents was still clutched in her hands when she spotted the fourth-year striding purposefully across the Entrance Hall, a look of concern on his face. She only just had time to jam the box deep within the folds of her dress before he reached her seconds later.
"Darcy? There you are! Are you okay?" he asked instantly, taking her hands within his own. "Merlin, you're freezing!" He drew her swiftly into his warm embrace, rubbing at the icy flesh of her bare shoulders.
"I'm fine, Oliver," she answered with a touch of exasperation, though she secretly enjoyed the attention he was lavishing upon her. "Really, I am."
Contemplatively he stared down at her, and beneath his scrutinizing gaze, a squirmy, nervous feeling began to grow in her stomach. She absolutely hated lying to him, but she knew there was no way she could tell him about the ring that now laid heavily in her pocket. Why did Kotter have to do this to her? Her evening had been so perfect…
But, to her surprise, he didn't ask her any questions, only continued to rub at her shoulders until she was warm once more. "There. Much better, I think." And then he smiled at her, and her body temperature went up yet a few degrees more.
"Yes. Thank you," she replied, unable to lift her eyes from the fold in her dress where she knew the ring was hidden.
"Darcy." Oliver's voice, gentle but stern.
Silently she panicked, a thousand conflicting thoughts clamoring in her mind. She should tell him… no, he would leave then, out of respect for Kotter, and god, how she needed him to stay. No, she couldn't tell him. But then it was just one more secret, one more lie, one more filament on the tangled web she had already woven. She was trapped between two equally undesirable options with no hope of a third to rescue her, and as all the world closed in around the girl, she wished only to open her mouth and scream…
But instead, she did the one thing Oliver—or she, herself, for that matter—could never have expected. She threw her arms around the tall, muscular fourth-year, burying her face in the warm hallow of his neck, and whispered, "I'm so glad you came with me tonight, Oliver."
Startled as he was, he quickly regained his composure, and slipped his arms around her lithe body in return. "I'm just glad you let me."
She managed a laugh at this, despite the tears that were trying to invade her eyes. She rapidly blinked them away, her fluttering eyelids tickling Oliver's neck, until at last she felt her composure had been regained. She looked up to find him studying her intently.
"What do you think, Darcy?" he queried, cupping her face in his hands. "Are you ready to go back into the Great Hall… or would you rather call it a night?"
The warm, supportive feeling of his flesh against hers seemed to wash away the doubt, the bitterness, and the uncertainty that had still lingered in her system. If Kotter is poison, she mused, recalling some half-forgotten phrase Brian had once told her, then Oliver is the cure. She felt a smile grace her lips. "I think I'm ready to go dance some more," she said, reaching up to take one of his hands and entwine it lightly with her own. "That is, of course, if you want to."
He grinned. "Nothing would make me happier… except maybe winning the Quidditch Cup this year," he teased.
"Hey, that's up to you, Keeper Boy," she shot back, playfully prodding him in the chest. "You've got the hard part of that task; I just chase around a golden walnut."
Oliver laughed and shook his head, gently combing the curls out of her face before starting toward the Great Hall. As she fell into step with him, he remarked, "I think we've still got a slow dance to finish, right?"
"I think you're right," she replied, smiling. Together they reentered the Masquerade Ball, and for a few blissful hours, Darcy forgot all about Kotter's little gift.
* * *
The dawn of Friday morning was less than an hour away when Oliver and Darcy at last returned to Gryffindor Tower. They had been one of the last pairs to leave the Great Hall; Darcy, feeling it her duty as a Prefect, had offered to stay and help the teachers clean up afterward. Not wishing to leave her side, and despite her various protests, Oliver, too, had volunteered to remain. Now a drunken sort of exhaustion had overcome both, leaving them to lean heavily on each other as they shuffled their way up the stone staircase to their dorms.
"I had an amazing night," she said softly as they reached her particular doorway. "Did you have a good night, Ollie?"
"Darcy, I had the best night of my life," he replied with complete honestly. However, the lopsided smile of elation that occupied his features was highly comical and she found herself stifling a giggle, though she could only imagine her own expression looked equally ridiculous. Oliver, believing her laugh to be one of skepticism, insisted, "No, I mean it. I've never had such a great time with such a great person. And you are a great dancer. It was great."
"Great," she replied, and laughed outright. Then she apologized, "Sorry, Oliver. I'm one of those people who either gets really giggly, or really cranky when I'm tired. And I'm too happy right now to be cranky, so… you get Laughing Girl." She snorted again.
He attempted a look of exasperation that ended only as an amused smile. "Then I better let you get to bed so you don't wake the whole tower," he said, and brushed his fingertips lightly over her temple a last time. "Goodnight, Darcy." He turned to head up the stairs.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" And before she could stop herself, she'd grabbed him by the collar and drawn him back to her, holding him and his oh-so-desirable lips captive only inches away from her own face. Her voice purred huskily up from her throat as she demanded, "Isn't it custom to get a goodnight kiss at the end of a good date?"
For the briefest second, a look of uncertainty flickered across his features. "I don't…" And then he was caught up in the smoldering glitter of her ocean-hued eyes, entranced by the feel of her fingers wound so possessively into his collar. The final straw came when a stray beam of moonlight filtered suddenly down upon her face, bringing an irresistible gleam to her full, blood red lips. He could control himself no longer. "Oh hell, you did ask…"
Plush, velvety lips met his own as Oliver leaned swiftly forward and kissed the beautiful Gryffindor Prefect, his mind instantly exploding into a haze of stars. It was absolutely everything and absolutely nothing like he'd always dreamed it would be.
Darcy at first stood stunned, feeling the soft warmth of his breaths tickling at her cheeks, until, in the wake of exhaustion, her last vestiges of control snapped, and she was kissing him back as though she'd never kissed a man before. He tasted deliciously of outdoors, rain on fresh-cut summer grass, a cool spring breeze rolling across the lake. As time stood frozen around them, she committed to memory every last detail of their kiss: the texture of his tongue as it slicked over her own, his hands sliding up to tangle in her hair, how tightly he closed his eyes, as if to stop himself from waking from some dream…
A blurry haze had begun to build in her mind as her supply of oxygen rapidly ran out. At last, she was forced to pull away, and as she stepped back, a startling sharp pain lanced through her body, as though a part of her soul had been suddenly torn away.
Flushing madly, Oliver gazed at her, flustered. "Darcy…" the word left his lips as a low, feral growl, vibrating with the sheer intensity of his desire.
The realization of what she'd just done dawned slowly on her—at the same time her hand slipped into the pocket where Kotter's ring still lay. As the cold box brushed her fingertips, it was like a jolt of electricity flowing through her body; she jerked, and stared, wide-eyed, at Oliver. "I… I'm sorry—"
"Don't be," he insisted when at last his wits returned to him. "I'm not."
"Oliver, you know we can't…"
He sighed heavily. "I know. Believe me, I know. But I had to… just once, right? Just to be sure… And if we never… well. At least I'll always have this moment." He smoothed his thumb softly over her bottom lip, which was slightly swollen from their passionate kiss, and gave her a small, sad smile. "Goodnight, Darcy."
"Goodnight," she whispered, and watched him ascend silently up the stairs. She waited until he'd disappeared completely from her view to at last turn and enter her dorm. Immediately she was greeted by Keely's low, rattling snores, a single naked arm hanging out of her roommate's bed curtains as the Seeker made her way to her own bunk. She retrieved her wand from her dresser and, muttering a quick counter-spell, her temporarily auburn curls melted back to their rich gold, her skin lost its otherworldly shimmer, and she was plain old Darcy again.
Her costume was carefully folded and put away in her armoire, saved for a later time when it might again prove useful. And the wretched little black box that had spent the night hiding in the folds of her dress was relocated to her desk, where she sat staring at it for a long time. The first tendrils of dawn had crept their way into the dorm when she came to a decision.
And that was how the gift of Kotter's proposal came to be buried in the deepest reaches of her trunk. For two full weeks it stayed hidden from sight… but it was always there, lurking in the back of Darcy's mind.
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Comin' up next: Quidditch match!!! That should be up by the end of the weekend.
Live long and write fanfic! *~Adele~*