Authors Note: Hopefully I'll still have time to edit now that I'm back at college. I should, considering I have no car or anything. But heres another chapter to enjoy
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I wasn't the fortunate one to have Harry Potter pop into my head on a train. Isn't that just the worst luck? Well I suppose I do have Izzy...she's mine...

Chapter 5 The Truth rears its ugly head

"Ok Oliver I'm tired of your pretending; your nervous glances and twiddling your thumbs! Why are you really here?" Izzy was fuming, but with genuine reasons this time. The honest boy she had come to care about was hiding something, and it was really grating on her nerves. Sure, he hadn't done anything wrong; he was being his sweet usual self, but Izzy could tell he had ulterior motives for this visit.

"I'm sorry. I really am. It's just that we've been getting so close and the other day it hit me that we didn't really know enough about each other," Oliver said quietly. Izzy could almost feel a break-up speech coming on. "It's just that I care about you so much, more than I should, really and I want to get to know more about you."

"Is that all?" Izzy let out a laugh. "I thought it was something serious." She tried to pass it off with a laugh, but she knew that her past was something serious; something she didn't want to revisit. "Okay, I don't know where to start. I never knew my father, which might be why I'm such a bitch to guys," I'll just tell him everything, she decided, "My mother raised me, she was my lifeline. My father was a very evil man. I was told he dabbled in- don't laugh at me Oliver for saying this- witchcraft and followed some Dark Lord guy. I've had people ask me if I were Wiccan or whatever and I've just went off on them because I'm nothing like my father. He's everything I hate." Oliver felt his heart drop. He wanted to cry, but he had to keep composure. "My mother had a hard life being a single mom. She died when I was 15 and instead of going into foster care I got a job and my own apartment. Since then I haven't been close to anyone, and I haven't felt much at all to be honest. That's my story. What's yours?"

For a few seconds Oliver's mind went blank. Finally he started. "I lost both my parents too. No one actually knows that about me. Actually they probably do, but I didn't tell them. When I was 9, my father was murdered at work. Then my mum got really depressed. She couldn't handle it. When I was 11, my mum killed herself. By that time I was at a boarding school and in the summers I came home and lived with my grandma. The only thing I've cared about since then I practice and make game plans day and night. I eat, drink, sleep and live rugby. It's been my entire life, which is probably why I'm so naive with girls as I am, I never thought about them till now. Rugby was all that mattered." Oliver had basically told the truth. Being a guy, he hadn't expanded on the emotional impact of his parents death. It was more than he could bear. It had always been more than he could bear, that's why he had poured his heart and soul into Quidditch. It was his lifeline, just as Izzy's mom had been hers. Oliver felt guilty for not telling her about Quidditch, but he had given her something even more dear to him: his secrets. Not once had he told anyone, none of his teammates or friends about his parents' deaths. They probably had all heard, but not from him. Oliver looked away and tried to harden his face. Last thing he wanted to do in front of Izzy was cry.

"Oh Oliver," Izzy said sweetly, "I had no idea. You can cry if you want to. Really you can."

"I don't want to Izzy. I never wanted to."

"I understand completely, actually. Who would have ever figured that the sweet Scottish athlete and the rude New Yorker waitress had so much in common?" Izzy laughed and Oliver smiled. Somewhere deep inside Oliver heard his mind saying, Even with that much in common, you're still a wizard Oliver, and she hates magic. What she's going to say when she finds out you're everything she hates? Oliver ignored the voice and smiled at Izzy, that day he had realized he loved her.

Oliver sat in a small diner contemplating. He'd just had lunch with Rance and the subject of Izzy had come up. Rance's words still stung, "If she hates magic, she hates you, Oliver. You can't help who you are."Oliver knew he was partially right; magic was his whole life, no magic meant no Quidditch, no Hogwarts. Magic had a hand in every defining moment in his life. Everything from his father's death, to his education, to his chosen profession involved magic. Oliver didn't even know who he would be if he weren't a wizard. Am I anything without magic? Oliver didn't even want to think about it. That wasn't the important question, anyways. The important question was what to do about Izzy. He couldn't just not tell her; but how could he tell her, without ruining everything.

I have to tell her regardless of the consequences. If she hated him because he was a wizard then the relationship was going nowhere anyways. Even as Oliver arrived at that conclusion, he knew it wasn't true. If he weren't a wizard, he and Izzy wouldn't have anything stopping them from being together. Even if the odds were against him, he loved Izzy and knew losing her would break his heart. His only hope was that Izzy loved him too, and could see past the minor detail that he held the very magical abilities she despised. He tried to reassure himself If she loves me, it shouldn't matter that she thinks that magic ruined her life. Izzy would be surprised to learn how much she had in common with her mother, Oliver only hoped she could see past his magic, unlike her mother. Finally reaching a conclusion, there was a small 'pop' and Oliver was no longer sitting in Hogsmeade.

Suddenly there was a timid knock on Izzy's door. Looking up from her book, Izzy debated answering it. Placing her book on the table, Izzy rose to answer the door. Standing on the other side of the wooden panel was a nervous looking Oliver. Letting out a started gasp, Izzy blurted out, "What the hell are you doing here?" At the same moment she gave him a huge unplanned hug. Releasing Oliver she scanned his face for a clue. He hadn't answered her question. "Oliver?"

"Hey Izzy," he said weakly.

"Hello Oliver," she imitated his tone, "Come on in." Sitting on the couch, she gestured to Oliver to sit next to her. "So what is it this time? Just in the neighborhood or is there an actual reason?"

"An actual reason," he said looking away from her beautiful face.

"Oliver," she said grabbing his face and forcing him to look into her eyes, "You know how much I care about you. You can tell me anything."

"Well first," he said gaining courage, "I want you to know that I'm falling in love with you. But I think you already know that."

"Just a little," Izzy said softly.

"Second I don't want you to hate me," he said preparing himself for the worse.

"I don't, Oliver. Now please tell me what this is about." Tension thickened the air making it almost hard to breathe. Whatever Oliver wanted to tell her couldn't be good. His stance was tense, his face unreadable and his tone somber.

"You're going to hate me when I tell you," he said honestly. "There's a little something I lied about." Noticing the appalled looked on her face Oliver felt horribly guilty. "Actually I'm not a Rugby player. I actually am a professional athlete though. I play Quidditch." Perusing her ever-changing expressions, Oliver couldn't tell if the word registered.

Eventually her face changed to a blank expression, "I've heard of that before." Her heartbreak was audible in every word. "My mother use to talk about it. My father played it..." Suddenly she stopped realizing what Oliver had been saying all along. "No don't' tell me...You can't be."

"I'm sorry Izzy. I am. I'm a wizard," with his confession, all warmth left the room.

"Get out," Izzy muttered, softly at first. "Get out of my home," her voice began to regain strength.

"Izzy it isn't my fault. It's not like I chose to be a wizard," Oliver pleaded.

"Get out," she started to yell.

Standing politely, Oliver nodded. "I love you. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't even mean to meet you but I'm thankful that I did. I'll call you when I get back."

"Get out, Get out Get out!" Izzy broke down into tears. Standing up she started pushing Oliver towards the door. "You're a wizard. May the devil have you and your dark arts and murder."

"I'm not that kind of wizard," Oliver turned as Izzy continued to push him towards the door. "Not everyone is that kind of wizard. Never call me a follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Never. Izzy please."

"Get out you dirty monster," Izzy slammed the door in his face and collapsed in tears on the other side.

Outside the door, she could still hear Oliver muttering, "I'm sorry. I'm not evil I swear it. I swear it on my parent's grave." Even though he was locked outside her door he didn't have the heart to leave. Sitting against the chipping paint walls, he slammed the back of his head against the wall receiving a dull relieving pain. I won't leave till she hears me out, Oliver swore to himself. I won't leave. Izzy knew he was still sitting outside the door. She could hear his heavy breathing and agitated sighs. Lying next to the door, Izzy didn't feel like moving. She barely even felt alive enough to move. Hours later, after emotions and tears had exhausted themselves, Izzy dosed into a world of nightmares and sleep.

Waking up on the floor the next morning Izzy quickly looked around for a clock, "Oh shit," she muttered, "I'm going to be late for work." Quickly jumping to her feet she threw a shirt and a skirt on, glanced at her make-up free face in the mirror and reluctantly sat off to her work. Pushing her door open, she was surprised to meet the resistance. Pushing harder she discovered to her dismay that Oliver had fallen asleep in the hallway. Hitting him as hard as she could with the door, he suddenly sat up. "Get out of my way," she said bitterly."

"Oh, sorry, love. I guess I forgot you needed the door," he muttered groggily patting his hair down.

"Sure you did," Izzy stepped over him and walked down the hallway.

"Wait a second!" His sense became more alert. "Don't I get a chance to explain myself?"

"No," Izzy said angrily jabbing the elevator button. As soon as it opened she jumped in and tried to push the button to close the door. Oliver was quicker than the door though.

"It's not like I'm angry you're a Muggle!" Oliver stood in the elevator next to her, attempting to explain. His shirt was wrinkled from sleeping in the hall, and his hair was a mess but he just wanted to be closer to Izzy.

"A what?"

"A non-magical person Izzy. A lot of full-blooded wizards aren't too fond of Muggles, or Muggle-born wizards. I'm not like that. I'm not a bad guy." He didn't know how to make her see the prejudice he'd seen, the prejudice his friends had suffered from. He'd seen how the Slytherins looked at the "Mudbloods" as they called him.

"You practice dark magic, that's enough to make you a bad guy in my eyes."

"But it's not dark magic!" Oliver exclaimed.

"Just leave me alone from now on," Izzy stepped out of the elevator, leaving an exasperated Oliver alone listening to the echo of her footsteps

Do not fear! There is moe coming...seriously do I seem that cynical to end here? No I'm ont. But please do respond, it encourages me, and thanks to those who have.
Also, if this is the only of my stories you read I suggest reading The First New Dawn, because its the favorite I've written.