Fixing to Fly
Chapter Twenty
Author's Note: I… am… so… sorry!!! I never dreamed it would take me this long to write out the next chapters, honestly I didn't. But I've got a good explanation! Well, as best I can do, anyway. Christi, you got it right, girl: Adele got herself a man! And from there, a long list of other equally annoying, important, sweet, devastating, and otherwise confusing things tied up every spare second of my life and sent my poor Harry Potter muse on vacation. It's a long story, and if you really are that interested in hearing it, feel free to e-mail me and ask, my address is on my author info page thingy. But I won't bore everyone with that long story here. Instead, I will happily inform you that my Harry Potter muse is back, and dancing naked in my head like he always does… oh-kay, maybe I shouldn't have told you that… ;) But I seriously cannot begin to apologize for the long delay, and thank you all for your patient. I promise, promise, promise you will never have to wait this long for chapters again. In fact, to try and make up for my long delay, I give you two—yes, two—chapters in one night! Okay, so Twenty isn't the Quidditch match like I said it would be, it's a precursor. Twenty-one is the big match, and you get that one, too. And, having just done a word count, that's a total of over 6,000 words for you in these two chapters. So enjoy! A please forgive a poor lovesick girl for her procrastination. ;)
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"Darcy!"
She was falling, and though hands stretched out to catch her, they could not stop her swift plunge toward the earth below. The sky was thick with heavy rain drops, racing her to the hard, muddy ground below, and she forced her muscles to go limp as she fell the last few feet. She hit the grass of the Quidditch pitch and rolled, coming to a stop on her back in an ice-cold mud puddle, and there she lay for a moment, gasping for stolen breaths.
Should've just cancelled practice, the thought drifted through her fuzzy mind, not for the first time that evening. The day had dawned gray and stormy, and as evening began to close in, conditions had certainly not improved. It had taken much poking, prodding and promising to pry her team from around the cozy firelight in the Gryffindor common room and down to the quagmire of the pitch; the only reason she'd even made the effort was because of their first match of the season being the following morning.
She now seriously doubted the wisdom of her own decision. Frozen, soaking wet, the Gryffindor players were expending more energy whining then practicing, and now their captain lay coated in mud on the cold, hard ground. Bloody brilliant.
The ringing in her ears had faded to a dull hum and she'd begun to make a half-hearted stab at sitting up when the rest of the team arrived at last.
"Jesus christ, DC, are you okay?" cried Brian, kneeling over the blonde and offering a hand to help her up, which she promptly ignored. Her attempt to stand was quickly thwarted when Keely joined the fray and forced the Seeker back to the ground.
"No, don't move, Darcy, you could be hurt," insisted the Scot, a note of panic in her voice. "You fell over thirty feet! You could have internal injuries! Or spinal swelling! Oh Merlin, I don't want you to die from an intracranial hemorrhage!"
Darcy raised a curious eyebrow at her distraught roommate. "Have you been reading my Magical Medicine textbook again?" She pushed gently past the various hands outstretched to her and found her way to her feet, despite the bitter protesting of her likely-bruised back. Taking in the continued apprehensive looks of her team, she said, "I'm fine, guys, okay? I just slipped off my broom, it's slick as hell out here."
"Strange how you didn't hear us all point that out earlier in the common room…" muttered Kotter, who instantly received several dangerous glares and a sharp elbow to the ribs from Toby.
"Oh, bite me, you big whiny prat," snapped Darcy, startling them all. She was in no particular mood to take his bad attitude with her usual smile and nod. Kotter stared back at her in shock as she went on, "I know it's bloody cold, and I know it's bloody wet, okay? Have you all not noticed that I'm out here too? I'm suffering just as much as the rest of you…" she looked down at her soaked, muddied robes. "Probably more so, now. But I want to slaughter those idiot Slytherins tomorrow, and I'm willing to be out here freezing my ass off to be sure that it happens. Okay?"
Silence was her response. No one seemed willing to meet her blazing sapphire eyes save Oliver, who simply gazed back with calm curiosity. A weary sigh escaped the captain.
She said in a calmer voice, "All right. Know what? I think we've practiced enough for one night. Go on." She nodded across the rain-hazed field to the blurry outline of the locker room entrance. Gladly the six Gryffindor players hurried toward the haven of the locker room, visions of a hot shower drifting through their various minds.
Oliver had taken only a few steps when he noticed the absence of one blonde Seeker, and spun to find her tenderly brushing mud from the polished handle of her Nimbus. "Darcy?"
"Hmm?" she answered lightly, not looking up.
Slowly he approached her, scrutinizing her with concern in his chocolate eyes, until at last he queried, "Are you okay, Darcy?"
She sighed. "I told you not five minutes ago that I'm just fine; it wasn't that bad of a fall—"
"No, that's not what I mean," he interrupted shortly, eliciting a sharp, confused glance from the gold-haired Gryffindor. "I'm sure physically you're fine. I'm talking about… you know… your mental health."
To his surprise, she laughed. "If you're calling me crazy, I should tell you, you're not the first nor, I doubt, the last to do so."
"No!" The fifth-year was growing frustrated, and had the strange sense that Darcy was annoying him on purpose. "Will you please just take me seriously for one minute?! I'm trying to tell you that I'm worried about you! You've been—I don't know, preoccupied is the best word for it, I guess—for the past two weeks, like something's on your mind. You don't really eat much, and Keely says you haven't been sleeping, just sitting up and staring at the end of your bed, like there's something there no one else can see."
Darcy's trunk sat at the end of her bed. And there was something inside it that no one else had seen… "So Keely's in on this too, huh?" she mused lightly.
Suddenly Oliver became fascinated with the wet blades of grass clinging to his shoe. "Well, I kind of asked her to do me a favor and… tell me if you were… acting… strange."
It was the seventh-year's turn for a flash of irritation, though it dulled quickly in the face of the swell of affection she felt, knowing he cared enough about her to keep tabs on her behavior. "Why would you think I'd be acting strangely?" she queried, closing the distance between them with a few long strides.
Acutely aware of her proximity, he swallowed thickly and said, "Well, I, ah… I don't know, I guess—after I, um, you know… after I kissed you and all…"
Sapphire eyes narrowed on his blushing features. Neither of them had spoken of the kiss since its occurrence, though it clearly lingered on both their minds for some time after, most notably when they drew close to one another. She would lick her lips, and remember the feel of his tongue as it slipped over her own; he would run his hands carelessly through his hair, and recall the texture of her own silky golden tresses wrapped delicately about his fingers. It would take all the willpower of both not to lean forward and make that connection again as they sat together in the library, or at the Gryffindor table, or in the common room.
"That's not what's been on my mind the past two weeks," she said swiftly, which was a partial truth. "Don't think my… preoccupied state is in any way your fault."
"Oh." His tone bordered on disappointment. "So what is it, then?"
Not for the first time, she considered telling him about the shiny diamond ring that sat lurking, constantly waiting for her every time she entered the dorm. He could tell her what to do, help her best decide how to extricate herself from her current predicament. But before the words could pass her lips, better judgement would prevail, as it did now, and all she said was, "It's nothing, really. Just a lot of little things. Nothing important. Don't worry about it."
Unconvinced, he replied slowly, "Okay…"
"I mean it." She reached out to gently stroke the smooth flesh of his cheek with her hand, something she rarely let herself do anymore, so uncertain was she of her own self control. Oliver leaned into her touch, hungry for the feel of her warm skin against his own, and torn, as he always was, when she pulled away. A vague smile traced its way across her lips. "I'm freezing. Let's get out of here, huh?" And without waiting for his response, she strode off toward the locker room, her broomstick cocked jauntily over one shoulder.
Inside the Gryffindor locker room, Loren had conjured a brilliant red ball of fire, twice the size of a Quaffle, that levitated at the room's center, radiating luscious heat upon the chilled players as they shed their muddied, bloodied, and otherwise soaking wet uniforms. Keely sat perched on a bench beside the fire, eyes closed, as she allowed the licking flames to dry her rain-slicked flesh. A fierce look of concentration was cast over the Scot's face.
Stifling a smirk, the Quidditch captain queried, "What are you doing?"
"Shh!" Keely frowned at the disruption. "Don't bother me right now, DC. I'm trying to memorize exactly how I feel at this very moment, so tomorrow when I'm playing Slytherin, I can remember all the crap I've had to put up with. It'll make it much easier for me to bust their filthy, disgusting heads in with my club."
Darcy managed a laugh at this, despite the fact she felt like the victim of a particularly vigorous hippogriff stampede. She shuffled her way toward her dressing room, where Brian stood leaning nonchalantly against the door. A wide smudge of mud splayed comically across his face and up into his hair as he grinned at her.
"Looking good there, Quidditch Queen," he teased as she approached.
One eyebrow cocked skeptically, she replied, "Right back at you, Bludger Boy. Care to move so I can get out of these soaking robes?"
Brian feigned a pout. "What, no strip tease today?"
"Only in my nightmares," she said, and pushed the chuckling Beater aside to gain access to the welcoming privacy of her dressing room. The wall torch provided a low golden light as she swiftly freed her lithe frame from the confines of her drenched uniform. She was in the midst of peeling her sopping wet sweater over her head when a voice from behind made her jump and stumble backward into the wall.
"So have you decided yet?"
Escaping the material shrouding her head, Darcy looked wildly around for the speaker—and found Kotter seated in her plush red chair, the damp robes he still wore leaving darkened stains on the silken cushions. He contemplated her critically beneath his mass of curly blonde hair that hung dripping in his face.
"Merlin, Kotter, you scared the life out of me!" she protested, grabbing a spare robe from her wardrobe to shield her scantily-clad body.
He ignored her comment and, as though picking up the strand of some long-forgotten conversation, demanded, "It's been two weeks now, and I know these decisions take time, but the sooner you tell me you're ready, the sooner I can start picking out dates, and locations—"
"What are you on about?"
Glaring unhappily at her interruption, he said with a touch of impatience, "Don't tell me you've forgotten already." When she failed to respond, he snapped, "Jesus, Darcy, it's only our future you're deciding! You don't have much longer to put this off; I want to be married, honeymooned, and happily settled into our new home by the time we both start work at the Ministry next fall."
A flutter of laughter escaped the blonde as she stared at him with mild amazement. "You're kidding me, right? You don't honestly believe that's the way our life will go—if I decide to marry you at all, that is."
"Oh, Darcy, don't be stupid, of course you'll marry me." He waved a hand dismissively at her words. "And it's no secret fact we're both shoe-ins for Ministry positions. My father's already putting in a good word to bring me in as Assistant Director of the Department of Experimental Magic, and he told me your name's already down to start Auror training as soon as you graduate."
"Doesn't anybody listen to me when I say I don't want to be an Auror like my father?" she said, annoyed, as she finished dressing in her school robes and carefully smoothed out the pleats of her skirt.
Kotter sighed, and took on the stoic expression of a parent explaining to a five-year-old why she had to go to bed at nine o'clock. "Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do, Darcy, and besides, once you get into training, I'm sure you'll come to love being an Auror. It's what's right for you, after all."
"Who are you to say what's right for me?" she demanded, growing increasingly agitated by his arrogance. "Who are you to plan my life?"
A disturbingly smug smile curled his lips. "I'm your fiancé."
Barely-suppressed rage rippled through the blonde till she literally shook with fury, fists balled so tightly at her sides that her knuckles turned white. Her voice a low growl, barely recognizable as her own, as she uttered, "You are not my fiancé." And with that, she stormed out of the locker room.
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But just wait, there's more!! If you want to stop and review this chapter as well, feel free, but a lot of the good stuff you've been waiting for is in the next. Either way, I love reviews! And my readers/reviewers the sweetest, nicest, most amazing people in the world. ;) …Okay, so I'm sucking up a little, hoping you've all forgiven me for my little hiatus. But I really do think you guys are awesome. Thanks so much.
Yours very apologetically ~ Adele