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Chapter Eight: Dating Game
White light streamed through my window and coaxed my eyes to open. Almost instantly, I felt a searing pain rush my head. I groaned and rolled over, rolling off the bed by accident. I cried out in pain and swore colorfully. I pulled myself up realizing I was in my school uniform. "Oh bloody hell," I said clutching my head. Memories of the night before came flooding back to me almost as fast as the pain had. Memories of butterbeer, talking, ranting and Oliver. Oh not to mention the memory of asking him to kiss me!
"Wait," I said out-loud. "Why am I calling him Oliver? He is Wood, dammit!" I looked around, hoping no one heard me. I found my dorm empty. Then I remembered it was Sunday. I looked to the clock and discovered it was also lunchtime. "Fuck," I grumbled as I scrambled to pull my hair back and straighten up so I didn't look like I had just climbed out of a dumpster. I had not time to whip up a hangover potion or whatever they call it because I was really, REALLY hungry. I am not accustomed to this type of hunger I think my older brothers call it, "the munchies".
When I got down to the Great Hall only Derek and Terrence were there. "Hey Morgan," Derek said looking up from his food. "Where were you last night?"
"Yeah," Terence said, "Flint was looking for you. What happened?"
I sat down and proceded to stuff my face with food. "I got completely shit-faced, that's what happened. Why did Flint want to see me?"
Derek and Terence both shrugged in fake innocence. I glared at them through the throbbing pain in my head. "Is this about the Yule Ball?" I hissed.
"He wants an answer by next week," Terence said looking up at me. "He told us to tell you that."
Even though I had one hell of a hangover, I could still snap. "Tell Flint I will answer him whenever I want to answer him."
After a few minutes or so Terence got up to supposedly go find a date for the Yule Ball while Derek stayed. Once Terence was gone he asked, "Morgan, are you okay?"
"What do you mean?" I said swallowing a big bite of fruit.
"Well," Derek began. "You are wolfing down your lunch. You don't usually do that. You have been kinda irritable lately and you just don't seem like yourself."
I stopped. I was genuinely surprised by Derek's insight. I didn't know anyone ever noticed how I usually behave and I didn't know that I was acting so differently. But I pretended like I didn't know what he was talking about.
"Come on, Morgan," Derek said. "We all have noticed it . . . I take that back. Only really I have noticed it. But there has been something going on with you since that whole Wood incident. Graham too. That Bell girl had some affect on him."
"Derek," I said sharply looking at him. "Mind your own business. I have a hangover from hell and I am in no mood for your observations!"
He glared at me, "Not even an observation on Marcus? On why he asked you to the Yule Ball?"
Now you would have though I would be intrigued by what Derek might have to say and therefore fold and spill all the events that happened. But no. I had too much pride for that. "Not even," I said.
"Suit yourself," he said getting up sharply. Sensed anger about him as he walked away. "See you at practice."
"See you, Derek," I said.
"Oh and Morgan," he said turning and looking at me one last time. "Just remember there is a reason you are on the quidditch team."
"Yeah, because I can hit a bludger," I grumbled. I stared at all the food I had accumulated on my plate. It suddenly was very unwanted. I just stared at it for a couple seconds before sneering and getting up from the table. It was time for quidditch . . . with a hangover. I hoped I wouldn't fall off my broom.
Still, couldn't get Derek's words out of my head. What was this weird flunk I was in? It wasn't from Oli- I mean Wood, was it? I certainly hoped it wasn't. You have no idea how much I hoped it wasn't.
Oh you won't believe this. Just as I was walking out to the pitch, guess who I saw exiting it. Yes, you guessed it, the one and only Oliver Wood. The humor I am adding to this came later. At that point in time, I was frozen. Just frozen right there in my tracks, staring at him. When he caught sight of me, Oli- I mean Wood, did much of the same. It had to be the single most awkward moment in the history of my existence. The worst part was, I didn't know why.
Someone from the gryffindor team shouted his name. He turned around and in this brief moment, I dashed into the slytherin locker rooms. When I came out the gryffindors were gone and practice started.
Now quidditch is something I can do. Slamming those bludgers made me forget all about Wood, the gryffindors, the slytherins everybody. Well, that is everything except Flint who kept looking at me and smirking. I don't know if it was supposed to be seductive or what but it certainly made me send a couple bludgers his way. Marcus was alright in his own right and if I wasn't on the quidditch team and he wasn't so close to my brother, I would probably consider going to the Yule Ball with him. Oh, don't think this is sudden by the way. Marcus has asked me to Hogsmeade a couple times, bought me a couple sodas once in fifth year but there really wasn't an attraction at the time. But now, now that I was on the quidditch team, now that Marcus was more commonly called Flint, there was no way I would ever go out with him. If only for the reason that I refused to be his trophy.
As practice wound down, I noticed, to my displeasure the Gryffindors coming towards the pitch. Flint must have kicked them off earlier or something. I got into the locker rooms and changed as quickly as possible in hopes of evading, Flint, the other guys and not to mention Oliv- I MEAN WOOD! God why could I not stop doing that. Anyway, I had no such luck. I met Marcus at the door.
"You have been avoiding me," he said, blocking the exit with his arm.
"What makes you think that?" I asked calmly.
"I don't bite," he said with a grin that flashed his teeth.
"I think young Hufflepuff girls would think differently," I said trying to get past him. I really couldn't. His muscle was in the way. Now I was no strange to how slytherin boys get when they are "on the hunt". I just wasn't used to being the prey. For a brief moment I felt like I understood those poor hufflepuff and ravenclaw girls us slytherins terrorize. Thank God the moment was brief.
"Come on, Morgan," he said.
"Morgana," I corrected him.
"Please go to the ball with me, Morgana," he said with pleading eyes. I didn't know that was possible.
I ducked under his arm and calmly descended the stairs to the grass. "I can't," I said without thinking. Oh it is so dangerous to do that.
"Are you going with someone else?" he said folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the doorframe.
Oh man, did I need to think fast. I discretely looked around. I was hoping for some innocent fifth or fourth year huffie or ravenclaw but alas the only people I saw were . . . the gryffindor quidditch team. They were exiting their locker rooms to pass ours and get to the pitch. I shut my eyes tightly for a moment, I couldn't believe I was doing this. I felt like I was breaking some sort of law or something and in a way I was.
Oli-I mean Wood (that is really starting to piss me off) was leading them and said hatefully, "Flint," while avoiding my eyes. I avoided his just for the record. That was more difficult than I expected.
"Well?" Flint said looking at me.
I reached out and grabbed one of the boys' arms. No, not the captain ( I won't even try to say his name), but George Weasley. "Him," I said with a triumphant smirk.
"Weasley?" Flint nearly screamed. "You are going to the Yule Ball with a Weasley!"
"What the hell?" George said just before Fred did.
"Play along and I'll give you ten galleons," I hissed in his hear.
"For you, babe," he said looking me up and down, eyeing my slytherin path especially, "better make it twenty."
"Fine,"I hissed quickly. I looked at everyone. The slytherin guys were appearing behind Flint with looks of confusion on their faces. The Gryffindors were staring at George like he hd just said he was going to the ball with Victor Krum. Yes, that surprised and shocked.
I turned to George and said so it would sound genuine, "Is it alright if I meet you at the portal to Gryffindor commons the night of the ball?"
He started to stutter out of nervousness and I discretely stepped on his foot. Hard. "Yeah," he said cringing, "that'd be great."
I had no encounters with the gryffindor captain or any gryffindor after that day. I pulled George aside once to give him the skinny on the deal. He tried to enforce his own requirements but I said, "I am paying you twenty fucking galleons, you have no say in this."
As for my other slytherins, I was surprised when the girls thought it was the coolest thing in the world. You wouldn't know it, but Fred and George Weasley are like the forbidden hotties of Hogwarts. None of the boys outside of the quidditch team even mentioned it to me though I think that Draco used it as a reason to beat up a couple kids from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. His reasoning? I have no idea. That kid can find a reason for anything. Graham and I had met up in the locker room a couple days after the incident and just when I thought we were going to get into a big argument, he said he wasn't going to put in objection to what I was doing. I asked if he had finally found his heart or if it was a twin thing. He said hell no, he had his own reasons, and I am sure he does . . . the rest of the guys, save for Flint, merely asked to verify if the rumour was true.
But here I was at present, night of the Yule Ball, the day before I go home for the holidays. I had gone last weekend to Hogsmeade to buy a dress robes. They were emerald green and very nicely made. I hadn't shown anyone because I didn't want to flaunt it. I have noticed though that you can typically tell a slytherin girl at a ball because they have cold tone dress robes. Usually.
As for my shoes, I was starting to regret actually spending money. I bet you ten galleons George can't dance to save his soul. For the record, my mother has put Graham and I as well as my other two brothers in dance classes every summer since our first year. I was pretty sure a prankster wouldn't be much of a dance partner.
I was just staring at the dress robes, matching shoes as well as some make up and hair items that my mother sent me at the beginning of the year in hopes that I might use them. She could die happy if I had told her I would. I picked up the eye shadow and went over to the mirror. I carefully applied it as though it had to potential to hurt me. Same went for the lipstick and blush. I debated whether or not to change my hairstyle. Something felt wrong about wearing it up in a ponytail. So I decided to really shock people. I let it down and threw a light curl into it. I slipped on my dress robes and stared at myself in the mirror.
Yep, that's right, I stared. I almost didn't recognize myself. My face had some color in it, my grey eyes were defined as were my lips. That was something new. Wearing my hair down made me look like a totally different person and the curl kept it from falling absolutely flat. I could barely recognize myself. "Wow," I said. I checked to see if anyone was in the stairwell leading in the common room. It was empty. Most everyone had already left for the ball. I grabbed the pouch containing the money for George and dashed up to Gryffindor tower.
I only passed some ravenclaws and hufflepuffs on my way up and I honestly don't think they recognized me. George wasn't already outside so I waited for about ten minutes before banging on the portrait and shouting for him to get his ass out here.
I was surprised when the one who came through the portal was not George Weasley but Oliver Wood. "Oh,"I said feeling a bit awkward. "Can you give this to Weasley?" I asked handing him the pouch.
He was staring at me like I was from outer space. "S-sure," he said in a surprisingly kind voice, after he finished stuttering that is. He disappeared for a moment before coming I back out.
I noticed he was in black and gold dress robes. He stood there by the portal for several moments, just staring at me. "Can I help you?" I asked.
"Um," he began uneasily, "is that really you, Morgana?"
"Yes," I replied. I couldn't help but be a bit satisfied with myself. "Is Weasley coming?"
"Um, about that," Oliv- I mean Wood said. "He didn't want to say it to your face for fear that his health would be in danger but he said I could have the money if I went in his place."
"Are you really in that much of a financial bind, Oliv-I MEAN WOOD!" I shouted the last part and stomped my foot in frustration.
He chuckled, "Please call me Oliver. And I offered to take you when he asked. But," he looked me up and down then grinned in his cute Scottish way . . . whoa, did I just say cute? "Perhaps George is missing out."
"Thank you?" I asked not sure how to react to that.
"You look very beautiful. Like a queen," Oliver complimented.
The strangest sensation occurred . . . I think I blushed. "You look pretty handsome yourself."
"Shall we go?" he said, offering his arm.
I didn't take it. "Wait a second, are you sure it is becoming for a Gryffindor keeper and quidditch captain to be seen with someone from their opposing team? And not only that but someone who has nearly killed them several times?"
He grinned at me slyly and put his hands in his pockets. "Well, I understand if you're too chicken to go with me. I mean being from a different house and all. I am sure there will be lots of boys there willing to dance with you. But whether or not they can dance, well . . ."
"Wait," I said grabbing a hold of his dress robes. "You can dance?" when will this guy cease to surprise me.
He grinned, "Of course, can't you?"
"Naturally."
"You don't seem like the type to dance."
"What's that suppose to mean! Of course I can dance."
Oliver sighed, "Ah the path not taken. But I understand that you are too chicken to go with me so I will just head back inside." He turned to leave but I stopped him with my exclamation.
"Excuse me? If either one of us were to be chicken it would be you."
He turned, "So you will go with me? Be my date?"
I glared at him briefly, "There better not be some secret motive here."
He smiled at me kindly, "There isn't. Don't worry."
"The twenty galleons?"
"I said George could keep them." He offered his arm. "So you'll be my date?"
I took his arm. "Yes. But for the record, you are my date."
So I descended down the stairs to the Great Hall, me, Morgana Montague, proud slytherin beater, dressed like a queen on the arm of Oliver Wood, captain of the gryffindor quidditch team, my theoretical enemy. But, that night I felt as though Oliver and I were the exact opposite of enemies. It was a good feeling.
Author's Note: Yay! How did you like that? I know it is a tad shorter than I usually do but don't worry the next chapter is, dundunduna! The Yule Ball! Ooooooo what's in store. I am working as fast as I can to get the chapters up for you lovely lovely people but alas that thing called school. I will not lie to you, it is your reviews that keep me motivated. I love hearing from you . . . about anything! Anything anyone wants to see, just let me know and I will try to get it into the story for ya. See you!