Attn: Disclaimer...a lot belongs to JK Rowlings. Izzy Bella belongs to me. These are the only three chapters I'm posting for now. I'm goign to edit more of the story tomorrow and then probably post some then. I hope people actually read and enjoy this.
Chapter 3 The perfect guy
Knock Knock, Oliver's knocking echoed throughout the Weasley house. As soon as he had arrived home, he had flown straight to the Burrow. Sure, he could've used Floo Powder and been there in a matter of seconds, but he needed some time to think about what to say to Izzy if Mr. Weasley could teach him to use a phone.
"Oliver?" the twins were puzzled to see their old friend standing at the door. Suddenly they flung themselves at him in a huge hug. "Hey guys, our favorite Quidditch player is here!" In a rush of red hair and freckles Oliver was surrounded by the Weasley family inquiring about his health, his life, and Quidditch in general. Oliver felt more comfortable around old friends who understood him than he did around his coworkers. For the first time since he'd joined Puddlemere he let out a sigh of relief. It was nice to be with a family again. Sure, the guys on the team were nice, but nothing would ever beat the feeling of standing in the middle of the cramped Weasley kitchen with everyone smiling at him.
"Now I know how much you love us, Oliver, and how you can't stand to live with out us and all, but why the heck are you over here?" George asked teasingly.
"Well...I was hoping your dad could teach me something..." Oliver bit his lip, "I was just wondering how to use a tellyphone."
"Now why in the world does a wizard like you need to use a telephone?" George looked puzzled.
"Um...When in New York I...I..." Oliver felt all the eyes on him. "I met a girl, a Muggle and I promised I'd call."
"A girl?" Mrs. Weasley immediately plopped down to inquire. Being a woman, her natural inclination to gossip took over, "tell me everything!" Oliver quickly retold his story of meeting Izzy to the Weasley clan, leaving out the more personal details like how his heart beat and the goodbye kiss on the hand. Those were his, only his.
Finally the interrogation ended and Oliver headed off with Mr. Weasley to use a Muggle telephone. "Don't yell," Mr. Weasley instructed, "We learned that lesson one day when Ron tried to call Harry, upset those Muggles quite a bit with all his screaming." After dialing the number Oliver's heart leapt to hear the phone ring.
"Hello" a voice on the other end answered.
"Izzy Bella?" Oliver said confused.
"Yeah it's me. What do you want?" She maintained the flat tone in her voice even though she was smiling ear to ear upon receiving the phone call.
"This is Oliver. Wow, it's really you." He laughed nervously, "Sor....um...I've never made an overseas phone call before I wasn't sure how it would work."
"Well it sounds just fine to me," Izzy said, not noticing she was softening her tone.
Mr. Weasley left the room and the phone conversation continued for a good hour after he was gone. As Mr. Weasley entered the kitchen where his curious family was waiting he laughed, "I think we'll be seeing a lot more of Oliver now." Even Mr. Weasley could tell that he really liked the girl. As hard as he was trying to be coy, his inexperience did not help his ability, his true feelings shone through his deep brown eyes every time he mentioned Izzy. When he hung up the phone he suddenly felt sad, he didn't want to say goodbye to her. She was rude, she was crude, but at the same time she was amazing and captivating. His only thought was, wow.
Self-consciously Izzy looked around her apartment. She knew no one was there but she was sure she was exuding happiness and didn't want anyone to see. "Damn it," she whispered with a smile. Biting gently on her lip to contain her joy she let out a sigh of romantic fancy. The first smile her small apartment had ever seen. Note to self, she thought. Never talk to cute strangers. Izzy Bella sat alone in her apartment another night, however something had changed, she could no longer shelter herself from human emotions. She'd spent her entire life in her apartment trying to shut the world out, but she could no longer do it. Something had changed within her heart. Emotion had entered the life of Izzy Bella.
Puddlemere Quidditch team sat nervously in the locker room. Once again, it was time for their monthly meetings with Brenten Doyle. He was the coldest, harshest man anyone had ever known and they all feared him. Rumors still swirled about his questionable allegiances during the war and no one wanted to cross him to find about if the stories were true. The team had been waiting for an hour, but all of them knew better than to leave. A chaser had made that mistake once and lost his job on the spot. Even though he had been the best chaser on the team, he disrespected Doyle and that was the end of his Quidditch career. Luckily, this meeting turned out much better than that one. Doyle showed up for a five minutes to tell them, "You're doing good, keep it up or I'll have your heads." It seemed an idle threat, but the passionate fervor in his voice convinced each and every player that he meant it. As he walked into the locker room, Oliver felt a cold chill go up his spine. He never wanted to cross this man, ever.
After practice Oliver was heading to New York to surprise Izzy. No one knew he was going, and he hoped that he wasn't needed for emergency practices over the weekend. Oliver had no real plans, he just wanted to show up at the coffee shop where Izzy worked and see her again. He figured he'd just apparate over there, complain a bit about the long "plane" ride and then come back after a day or two. After hours of phone conversation Oliver was dying to see her in person again. He didn't know what to expect if he saw her again, he only knew that he had to, for his own sake he had to. He thought about her all the time, which was way too much in his mind. As much as he liked Izzy, she was still second priority to Quidditch. He didn't want to lose his focus. Quidditch was everything, his life; his past and his future.
Luckily, Oliver had managed to go to a Muggle library, get on some strange network known as the Internet, and find directions to Izzy's coffee shop in New York. Percy had come along to help him navigate the Muggle library.
"Once I did a report for the ministry on it," Percy explained. "Fascinating invention, the computer and the Internet are amazing. I thought about telling Dad about it, but I figured he'd start collecting computers and would become addicted to the Internet," Percy laughed at his father's obsession with Muggles.
Oliver had never really known Muggles till Izzy. He had known squibs and Muggle-borns, but they were quite different than actual Muggles who knew nothing about magic or the magical world. Maybe that's why he liked Muggles. They never went around worrying about "He Who Must Not Be Named" or purebloods, or any of the corruption that the wizarding world suffered. They had their own problems, some just as bad as the wizarding world-- but at least they were different problems.
After the research trip to the library, Oliver went off to get what he needed for his short trip to New York and Percy went back to the Burrow, probably to write 100 letters to the ministry about cauldrons or something silly of the sort.
The expression on Izzy's face when Oliver walked into the coffee shop was priceless. She saw him and fumbled, spilling coffee everywhere, growling under her breath, "Damn it! Look what you made me do." One of her co-workers grinned and let out a giggle, only to receive an evil glare from Izzy. Trying to hide her giggles she offered to find Oliver a seat. When they were out of the Izzy's line of vision the girl started laughing again.
"Never did I think I would see Izzy so thrown by someone. You must be something. Funny that she hasn't mentioned you; not that she actually mentions anyone," the little blonde girl chattered speedily as they walked to a corner booth. She was sweet and naive looking, exactly the opposite of the cursing Izzy Bella ("Damn it") who could still be heard cleaning up the mess from the coffee spill. "You know I'd offer to take your order, but I figure Izzy would rather do that herself. It's not too often she has people come see her. To be honest, before now I can't think of anyone who's been here to see her." The little girl continued to talk Oliver's ear off, "Look at me here, rambling on and not even introducing myself. My name is Sandy, I've been working with Izzy for over a year now."
"I'm Oliver," for the first time he got a word in.
The girl replied with a squeal of delight, "You're Scottish! Did you travel all this way just too see Izzy?" Not even pausing to let him answer she continued, "I'm so jealous. That's so sweet."
Finally Izzy showed up to relieve Oliver of Sandy's company. "I'll take over from here Sandy." The girl smiled and quickly went back to her tables. "Annoying isn't she? She'll talk your ear off, but she's actually a sweet kid. And if you tell her I said that I'll personally kill you."
"I didn't think she was that annoying, a little talkative but...."
"You haven't worked with her for over a year," Izzy rolled her eyes. "Now what the hell do you think you're doing here?"
Oliver shrugged, "I was just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by"
"You're disgustingly sweet, and I do mean that as an insult. Did you see the disaster you caused over there? I'll probably lose their tip because of you," Izzy plopped down in the booth across from Oliver.
By now Oliver had learned not to apologize every time Izzy insulted him. "Maybe they'll feel sorry for you and tip you anyways," Oliver offered hopefully.
"Yeah right, keep it up Mister Positivity," Izzy mustered up as much sarcasm as she could. Actually his strange positive attitude made Izzy smile, and even stranger, it made Izzy hope. She was surprised, even appalled by her reactions to the strange Scotsman. "Now seriously," she actually said gently, "Why are you here?"
"Am I allowed to be honest without being told I'm disgusting?" Oliver asked teasingly, "I couldn't' get you out of my mind. I just had to see you again to make sure it wasn't a dream." He grinned at her as she rolled her eyes. "And this time I brought a camera so I'd have proof."
"You're crazy! You're gonna have me running all over this city like a tour guide. I'm not giving you a tour of New York, you can pay someone to do that!"
"I didn't want a picture of New York, you can find those anywhere on the Internet. I wanted a picture of you. My friends were beginning to think I was hallucinating so I had to get some proof."
In spite of herself Izzy laughed. "We should get out of here before someone sees me smile. You'll ruin the persona, Oliver. You already did considerable damage by making me drop those cups!" Izzy put on her game face like she was taking him elsewhere to chew him out (as naive as Sandy seemed she didn't buy Izzy's act, and gave Oliver a smile as he went out the door). Izzy had been working at the coffee shop for a number of years and leaving privileges. She always worked more hours than scheduled, and rarely took a day off. She had no reason to and no one to go home to. "So where are we headed?" she asked happily, excited to take her first day off.
"Err...I hadn't actually thought about that. What do you guys do for fun here?" Oliver inquired curiously.
At first Izzy could do nothing other than stare at him blankly. Is he for real? "You came all the way to New York and you don't even have some sublime date planned?" She asked in exasperation. She was aghast. Never before had Izzy heard of anyone who just randomly showed up to New York and didn't have any idea of what they wanted to do. Oliver just stood there uneasily giving Izzy a week smile. Inside his head was another story. STUPID, he told himself. Did you expect to just have coffee and leave? No Muggle would ever believe that act. Izzy broke the awkward silence. "I have the perfect idea," she said with an evil grin. Uh oh, Oliver thought to himself.
Next thing Oliver knew he was standing on wheels at a place Izzy referred to as "the skate park". Clumsily, Oliver stood watching Izzy gracefully roll around on her skates. Oliver tightened his grip on the bench; he didn't even dare take one step in the skates for fear that he might fall. No wonder wizards only have one sport; this is horrible! Whereas Oliver was drowning in misery, Izzy was delighting in watching his gawky awkward movements. "Come on Oliver you had to have skated before as a child. It isn't that hard. It's like riding a bike, you never forget how!"
Glancing up from his feet he looked straight in her eyes, "I've never skated or rode a bike before!" Izzy just snickered and seized his hand pulling him away from the bench and out onto towards the pavement. Clutching her arm for dear life, Oliver could feel himself toppling over from the moment he stood up on the skate. Izzy had to catch him too many times to count before they both went down in an entanglement of limbs. In spite of herself Izzy was laughing out loud as her and Oliver sat on the grass. Luckily, even if he had no coordination, Oliver had good aim and had managed to fall onto the grass instead of the concrete. "So I'm definitely not a skater!" Oliver announced as he pulled off the skates. "My life long dream has been dashed and it's all your fault," he gave Izzy a pseudo evil glare.
"What?" She said playfully smacking him across the shoulder. "You're life-long dream? I was lucky to convince you to put those skates on. You needed to figure out sooner or later that you we're a sucky skater. I just helped you realize it so you can find a new life long ambition. If you were a professional skater, you'd be the suckiest one in the history of skating. Now can we please return those skates before you destroy them!"
"I wasn't that bad was I?" Oliver laughed at Izzy insults.
"You were the worst I've ever seen. I've seen four year olds with more skills than you," she rolled her eyes and dusted off her clothing. "Next time you plan on falling like a clumsy oaf, please don't take me down with you."
"A clumsy oaf you say?" Oliver pretended to fall, knocking her to the ground again.
"You idiot!" Izzy replied trying to sound as menacing and chastising as possible, but not succeeding at sounding either.
Oliver looked at the girl he was with. Her violet eyes glittered with natural beauty underneath all the make-up and piercings. At first glance she was still angry and rude, but Oliver found her captivating and unique. For a moment he considered kissing her but then he decided against it. After all, he wanted to live to see her again. Anyway, he considered himself a gentleman, and gentlemen don't make unwanted advances.
To her alarm, Izzy felt disappointed when Oliver didn't kiss her. At first she was a little pissed, then she realized she would have been pissed if he tried anything. He didn't try to take advantage of her like other guys. For once, she honestly believed a guy's motives weren't physical. She'd always been a firm believer that guys only wanted one thing (sex, sex and more sex) but this guy was astonishingly different. Maybe I've found one that thinks with his brain, not his...
As it got dark, Izzy dragged Oliver into one of her favorite dance clubs. "I don't know how to dance," Oliver continually objected. He watched as people dressed in all kinds of attire headed into the club with one objective in mind: finding an attractive member of opposite sex. Oliver felt underdressed in his T-shirt and blue jeans but Izzy declaring it was "all ok since I know the doorman."
Once more he repeated his redundant objection. Izzy rolled her eyes (which seemed to be a common reaction for her) and viciously replied, "You have to be better at it than skating." Oliver shrugged; she had a very valid point. They had never had dances at Hogwart's like he'd heard Muggle schools did. Actually, the year after he graduated they had a ball, but that did Oliver no good because he hadn't attended. I guess this trip is all about new experiences, Oliver noted to himself, quickly adding, and new feelings.
As they stood at the door to Izzy's apartment, Oliver thought about the fun he'd had. Sure, skating had been terrible, but dancing had been fun (especially with Izzy he added to himself). Now for the first time in Izzy's life, she was going to let someone into her apartment. When Oliver had planned this little trip he hadn't even thought about where he would stay or anything like that, so Izzy being the gracious (and complaining) host she was, offered her couch. She had said it was the least she could do after he so "graciously fell on his ass for her".
As Izzy unlocked the door she couldn't help but reprimand herself. She considered her apartment her domain. Your letting him in, her mind warned her heart. You could get hurt, her mind reminded her. Izzy shook off her inhibitions, after all he was just sleeping on the couch for one night and he had flown all the way from Scotland to see her. It was the least she could do (and the most she would do for that matter).
Whereas Izzy's original intentions had been to head straight to bed, she ended up staying up most of the night talking to Oliver and watching movies. Finally, at 3:37 in the morning, Izzy received her kiss. Actually she initiated it. As they were lying there watching movies, she decided she was ready and if he wasn't then too bad for him. It was a quick but passionate kiss, catching Oliver by surprise (not that he didn't enjoy it). Wow, they both thought in unison before they headed off to separate beds.
The tantalizing aroma of eggs and coffee awoke Izzy in the morning. She crawled out of the bed quite curious as to who was cooking in her kitchen (which rarely ever got used). There in his boxers stood Oliver frying an egg. "Don't tell me you cook! I'll never be able to get rid of you," she groggily groaned and took a seat at the table.
"My grandma taught me to cook. I've been cooking breakfast for her for years. Here you go," he sat a plate filled with bacon, eggs and biscuits before her.
"Oh my God, this looks good. I usually don't even eat breakfast," she said while practically drooling over the food. Too damned perfect she thought once again, he's too damned perfect to be real.
