Disclaimer: this makes me feel so redundant......
Author's Note: Once again, thanks so much for the reviews. I am glad people liked the shirtless Oliver and I am also glad this fic helps put Slytherin into a different perspective. Anyway the timing of the fic right now is about mid-late November. I know there was no halloween but I would rather work with the Yule Ball. I don't know if butterbeer is alcoholic or not . . . please don't kill me for saying that too much is. Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter Seven: Butterbeer Confessions
I flopped down on a couch in the Slytherin common room, waiting for the rest of the guys to come back. A couple people congratulated me on the game. The guys were certainly taking their time, probably talking to girls. I suddenly remembered the piece of parchment I had in my pocket.
I pulled it out and looked at it. Wow, the ink was really smudged. I opened it up. The first couple lines were smudged and I couldn't read them. So I read what I could. "Again I can't stress enough what I just said. I would like to get to know you more, if you would be so kind. You aren't like other girls and I am so sorry for how I hurt you . . ." I looked up from the letter and actually laughed. "Jeez, this must be from one of the guys. What did they do?" I thought out-loud in between chuckles, "Fight with their girlfriend?" That was the only reason I could think of that a letter like this would be outside the slytherin changing rooms. (A/N: I know Morgana is being thick, that is on purpose)
Before I could finish reading the rest of the letter or see which one of the guys signed it, they showed up at the portal and shouted for me to come on. I glanced quickly at the letter for a name. The name I could make out near the bottom was Montague. I hustled after guys but inside I froze. My brother . . . had a girlfriend . . . why did that bother me so much?
On the way down to Hogsmeade, I noticed several girls were on the arms of the guys. Adrian had this chick that was the dorm next to mine, Draco had some airhead named Pansy with him, Kevin had a girl with him, as did my brother. She was a girl from my dorm. She said hi to me in a way that was so much more cheerful than I was used to hearing. I just mumbled hello back. She started yapping away to me about how cool it was that I was on the quidditch team. I tried not to let my feeling out awkwardness show on my face. I glanced from her to Graham. This girl couldn't be the one the note was for. Must be a replacement, guys on the quidditch team could do that so easily. God I needed some butterbeers or perhaps something stronger.
NARRATOR POV
Oliver sat at the bar in the Three Broomsticks with the twins, the quidditch girls, as well as Lee Jordan. He had stopped by the hospital wing and said he fell down off his broom while he was practicing. Madame Promphery believed him and gave him a potion to heal the bruises. That doesn't mean he still wasn't hurting and butterbeer was just the thing to cure his blues.
"So mate," Fred began, looking at Oliver and taking a swig of his butterbeer. "Who are you going to ask to the Yule Ball."
"I don't know," Oliver grumbled. "That isn't really the thing on my mind right now. What about you?"
Fred grinned, "I was thinking of asking Angelina."
"Good luck with that," Oliver said, taking a big gulp of his butterbeer.
"Look," Alicia said with a sneer towards the doorway. "Here come the snakes."
"Smug snakes," Katie added.
"They won their game," Oliver said, spinning around on his stool, "by a landslide." He watched them all entered. The slytherin girls on the arms of the guys. Oliver couldn't help but notice how different they appeared compared to Morgana. Oliver mentally kicked himself. Why couldn't he stop calling her by her first name.
Morgana and Flint were the last to come through the door. He was rambling on about something and she appeared to only be half listening. Flint saw Oliver and flashed him a grin that made the gryffindor want to rip every last one of his teeth out. The slytherins moved to the very back corner of the three broomsticks almost out of sight, and ordered a round of butterbeers. Oliver cursed. Why did he have to have the perfect view of Morgana?
George laughed, "Man, does that Montague girl look out of place."
"Yeah," Oliver replied kinda out of it. "Out of place . . ."
MORGANA'S POV
Dear God this had to be the worst victory party in the history of slytherin-dom. The guys were doing shameless flirting with the girls on their arms as well as around the place. I just sat there, downing butterbeer. I was so bored that I would look over and watch the gryffindors. Johnson was on Fred's arm practically. It was because he asked her to the ball. I was watching when he took her away to ask her. Girls came and went from their area. Bell appeared to be flirting with Wood but he wasn't paying attention. Jordan was when she laid her charms on him. I did notice however how she looked at Graham a lot . . . and Graham looked at her. That gave me an idea . . . was that letter from Graham to Katie Bell?! The thought brought a look of shock to my face and too bad I was so lost in my thoughts to know I was still staring in the gryffindors' direction.
"Something wrong?" I turned to see Marcus looking at me. Glancing to the gryffindors as well. "Is there something fascinating about Wood?"
I rolled my eyes, "I was just wondering where his bruises went so fast." Oh nice recovery Morgan.
"You know, Morgan," Marcus said scooting towards me. "Are you going to the Yule Ball?"
Uh oh, I didn't like where this conversation was going. I discretely scooted farther away. I was sitting on the aisle. "I wasn't planning on it."
Marcus grinned at me. "You should reconsider. I would like to take you."
"Thanks for the information but I think you would better off not taking a player on the same quidditch team as you." I was waiting for an opening to break away from the table. I grabbed a butterbeer and practically started to chug.
"But I want to," he said, using his finger to trace down my arm.
I jerked away. "Look Marcus, as much as would love to go with you and I don't, I wasn't planning on going."
"So will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" Marcus either was really persistent or didn't understand what 'no' meant.
I sighed. There was no evading this one and I was a little intoxicated so I said, "I'll think about it."
He grinned at me. "Thank you, Morgana."
"I didn't say yes," I said with a roll of my eyes. I wasn't planning on saying yes either. Across the table I heard my brother ask the strangely cheerful, Caitlyn (I found out her name) if she would go to the Yule Ball with him. She said yes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She was practically sitting in his lap. Not much different from the other girls at the table. That was it. I was going to be sick. I had drunk a total of 7 butterbeers so far and I wasn't feeling too sober. I was getting a little tipsy. But I did know I wanted to get away from the table. I excused myself and moved towards the bar.
I plopped myself down, out of sight of the other slytherins and ordered a extra strong butterbeer. I held my head in my hands. The butterbeer brought out all sorts of thoughts and emotions that I wasn't used to having. My thoughts started to run around quidditch, Graham, Marcus, Wood, the gryffindors, other slytherin girls, school, my own love life which was so pathetic it was sad for even me to review. One strong butterbeer turned into three then four.
"Hey you probably should stop now," a voice said to me.
"Shuddap," I grumbled. "Get me another!" I said to the bartender. He seemed hesitant but did as I asked.
"No really, you aren't looking so good. You should stop now before you get hammered," the voice reminded me of Bletchley. Had he followed me over here?
"God dammit Kevin!" I said looking at him and standing up. "I want to get smashed so let me alright!"
The person chuckled, "I don't know why you keep mistaking me for that guy." I realized it was Wood. Great . . . just great. I really didn't want to see him right now.
"Oh god," I said taking a swig of my newly filled mug. "Please leave me alone, Wood. I am really not in the mood."
"Well answer me this," he said settling down next to me. "What caused you to leave your Slytherin teammates and come over here to get smashed?"
"As much as I love hanging with'em," I said starting to slur. "I can't stand those girls. They have love lives, women throwing themselves at them –"
"You want women throwing themselves at you?" Wood asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No!" I said taking a big gulp of the butterbeer. I was getting really hammered now and my mind kind of left me. I just started talking, I suppose one is most honest when they are drunk if they are usually in control of themselves, like I was. "I just would like to know I could do better then having Marcus Flint ask me to the Yule Ball."
"You don't come across as the type who would go to balls," Oliver commented. Yes, in my state of intoxication, I classified him as Oliver.
"'Cause no one cute ever asks me!" I exclaimed. "Or Graham scares them away. God! He can date two girls at a time and I can't even get a guy to pay attention to me!"I said with a shaky voice. It was totally butterbeer, or so part of me liked to believe.
"What do you mean two girls at a time?" Oliver asked, leaning closer so I wouldn't have to shout.
"He can ask that girl Caitlyn to the Yule Ball when he is trying to get back together with Katie Bell!" I said reaching into my pocket. I ripped out the letter and threw it onto the bar. "I found that outside the locker room today," I said taking several chugs of the butterbeer. Oliver unfolded the crumpled piece of parchment and stared at me.
"Why do guys have to be so chicken!" I said throwing my hands up into the air. "I mean, they don't talk to me or are scared of me just because I can smash a bludger. Look at Johnzon, Shpinnett and Bellz ( was getting quite drunk now) they are chasers and they get dates! Why not me?" I was clenching my firsts so hard that my nails were cutting the skin in my palms. "Why is the best that I can do Marcus? He probably only asked me to the fucking ball for shits and giggles."
Oliver saw what I was doing to my hands and grabbed them. He unclenched my fists and held them open. "Do you really care that much?" he said in a soothing voice. I totally forgot who this was for a moment.
"I just don't see why the guys get all the fun," I said making a face. "All I am allowed to do is play quidditch, save their asses from getting into trouble and study. I can never have any fun!" I said slamming my first down on the bar. "Ow," I said pulling it back into me.
Suddenly through my intoxication it hit me like a ray of light who I was talking to. I was rambling on to the captain of the gryffindor quidditch team. I looked up at him in horror as to what he thought of my drunken self. If I had been sober, the horror wouldn't have showed on my face. But I wasn't and it did. Oliver read me like a book. He smiled at me and said, "I won't tell anyone anything you just said and don't worry, I am in no position to take advantage of you any way."
"Yeah you are!" I exclaimed. "You could asked me anything right now and I would probably answer honestly. Jesus why did I have to drink so much?" I asked as I took gulps of even more butterbeer.
"Do you really think I would do that?" Oliver asked earnestly.
"Of course!" I exclaimed. "I have done god knows what to you,"I said slurring some of my words. "I hurts you a lot! Jeez, nearly killed ya a bunch of times." I ordered another butter beer. I was getting into double digits now. "If I were you, I would be reeeally mean to me right now. God knows I coudn't fight back," I said taking another chug.
"Morgan," he said, taking the mug from me. "Stop now. You are trashed."
"What you care!" I shot back. "Why aren't you with your gryffindor friends? Why are you bothering with my condition?" I asked hostiley.
Oliver sighed and put his hand on my shoulder. I tried to jerk away but he wouldn't let me and held the butterbeer out of reach. "Morgana Montague look at me! I have something to say." Strangely enough, I cooperated. He could get lost in his deep brown eyes. "That letter you found wasn't from Graham. I wrote it."
"You're dating Bell?" I said surprised.
"No," he said, obviously trying to keep calm. "I wrote it to you. To apologize for how I used you."
I was speechless, I was so drunk so I immediately didn't understand but the words sunk in. I grinned, "I forgive yaa!" now that I am embarrassed to admit happened. I mean seriously, what self respecting slytherin would do that? God I am such a bad drunk . . . what I did next was the perfect example. "Hey, Oliver,"I said, not breaking eye-contact with him. "You are really cute when we aren't trying to kill each o'tha."
He blushed. I could tell. "Come on Morgan, let's get you back to the castle."
"Please!" I said shooting up from my stool. He looked at me strangely and I cast a glance in the direction of the slytherins, "I don't want Marcus to take me . . ."
"By no means am I letting Flint take you back up to your common room!" Oliver said enthusiastically. He covered my bill and started to walk me out of the three broomsticks.
I ever so gracefully tripped over myself on the way out. I kind of giggled a scream I think. Next thing I remember was Oliver picking me up and slinging my arm over his shoulder. We made it out of Hogsmeade but on the way I think people thought I was Johnson because they kept saying "hey Oliver, did Angelina have too much to drink?"
"Why are you doing this?" I asked as we trudged up the hill to the castle.
"Because you are smashed."
"No, really," I said leaning on him some more. My legs felt weak and the ground was spinning.
He looked at me, "Because I want to be your friend."
"Figures,"I grumbled. "Only a boy would want to be my friend."
"You mean you have no friends who are girls?" he asked surprised.
"I barely have any friends at all," I said. I told you I get very truthful when I am drunk. "I'm more like a slytherin boy than a slytherin girl," I said. "Whoa!" I tripped over nothing again and crashed into Oliver, sending us both onto the grass.
"Are you okay, Morgana?" he asked, sitting up.
I made no motion to move from my spot on the grass. I giggled, yes, giggled, "You know, when you say my name, it sounds really pretty. You can call me Morgan, you know?"
Oliver smiled but then remembered I was intoxicated. "Come on we need to get back to your common room." He reached his hand down to help me up. I took it but instead of pulling myself up, I pulled him down. He was caught off guard to say the least and we were in a very compromising position. His face was just inches away from mine. Moreover, his lips were inches away from mine. They were very pink and cute . . . so kissable.
His breathing quickened and my intoxicated self decided to close the gap. I crunched my abs and pressed my lips against his. I tried to get something started but he returned nothing. Oliver rolled off of me and stood up, brushing himself off. "Come on Morgan, you are drunk. You don't want to do that."
For some reason I got very angry. I shakily got to my feet. "How would you know what I do and a do not want to do, Oliver?"
He sighed, "It would be a mighty fine thing to kiss you, Morgan. But I won't when you are drunk. You will hate me in the morning and if I did anything tonight, no matter what you say, I would be no better than someone like Flint."
He was absolutely right you know. It was so logical and reasonable that my drunken self could not understand it. "Oh so I guess I am that undesirable huh?" I said turning to storm off to the castle.
Oliver grabbed my hand and forced me to look at him, "Do you really care that much, Morgan? Do you really want me to kiss you?"
I felt hot tears well up in my eyes. "I just. . . I don't know . . . I don't want my brother to have a girlfriend!" Now I was so drunk it wasn't even funny. The sensible side of me had no idea what I was saying while the other side was trying to put all my emotions into words. I was about to fall down, once again tripping over myself when Oliver caught me.
I was surprised I think. I stared up at him. I remember smiling and saying thank you, right before I puked my brains out and passed out on the grass. I found out later that was Oliver who took me back to my common room and let some third year girl put me in my bed.
Author's Note: Well there we have it, Morgana drunk. I know it may have kinda seemed like she wasn't drunk with the dialogue but she was, just it's kind of like you have two sides conflicting. You have the side that is in control and the one making the commentary in the background. Does that make sense at all? I sure hope so. Don't worry I am not making her out of character or anything. You will see when I get the next chapter up. Anyways, I thought I got some good Oliver/Morgana contact there, he is such a gentleman for not kissing her right then but don't worry . . . I really appreciate reviews so let me know what you think!