A/N: Yesss! I got this up in one day. I just finish writing this at 2 AM this early Saturday morning. I really should look over it more, (or get a beta), but I think its good for now so here it is. I hope you all enjoy it!

A/N2: lol. Yes, Angelface04, I'm losing sight of the plot. grasps at air as the last tails of the plot escapes Well, I'll get it back eventually. I think this chapter was better in that area. Lol, oh well, forgive me. It is testimony to my inexperience with fanfics. I still love you guys though, thanks to everyone for reviewing. :-)

A/N3: Forever grateful to my beta, Charlie!

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- - - - CHAPTER 7 - - - -

Angelina was sitting on a second bed in what, Harry told her, was the room he and Ron shared whenever Ron came over. The room she had found him in before had been his late godfather's.

She looked over to Harry's bed to see him banishing a small pile of Chocolate Frog Cards—wandless, of course.

"What, did you lose your wand or something?" she asked, catching a card as it flew by her head. The rest of the banished cards lay in a corner on the other side of the room.

Harry looked over at her and shrugged. "No. I just like doing it."

Angelina stared disbelievingly at him. Just liked doing it? Angelina knew wandless magic was not an easy technique to master. Most people had to be taught—and taught thoroughly.

He must have seen her disbelief because he sighed. With a wave of his hand he banished the rest of the cards to lay with their brothers across the room.

"I started learning when I got back to my Uncle's house for the summer. I had been having…" he paused, remembering, "…accidents. Whenever I got really mad or…or depressed, I'd do little magical things without meaning to."

He turned towards the pile of cards lying in the corner. With both hands outstretched, he started making single cards fly back across the room and onto the bed.

"I was afraid at first. I was tired of getting into trouble with the law."

Angelina raised her eyebrows at this, but didn't ask any questions.

"When nothing happened the first couple times, I called one of my neighbors and asked her why no one from the Ministry was flooing into my Uncle's home, expelling me or worse."

"You asked your neighbor?" Angelina cut it, surprised.

Harry looked at her, wondering what he might have said wrong.

"Oh. Yeah, my neighbor's a squib. She works for the Order. Anyway, she said that there were special wards around the house and that the Ministry was probably ignoring me." The last of the cards fell clumsily onto the bed and Harry wiped at his brow, obviously exhausted from the latest wandless magic.

"It's easier to banish things," he said staring at the cards. "So, yeah, I told Hermione about it and she sent me tons of books on controlling my magic and learning wandless magic and all that. I can't really do much." He concentrated hard and the cards came together to form a neater pile. "Mostly just basic stuff. But I like doing it. It makes me focus and keeps my mind off of the visions."

He looked up sharply at her. He hadn't meant to let that part slip.

Angelina didn't say anything.

"Have Hermione and Ron learned wandless magic too?" she asked eventually, toying with the card she still held in her hand.

"No. Hermione tried but it was really exhausting and she was leaving to visit the Canadian Rockies. She brought me back these Chocolate Frog collection cards from Niagara Falls. It was an early birthday present. But I don't think Ron knows about the wandless magic."

Angelina chucked her card over at the pile on the bed. It landed exactly on top of the pile of cards. Her chaser skills were still there, she thought proudly to herself.

Before any guilty thoughts of how she hadn't trained for Quidditch in days could surface, she got up and walked to a crooked painting on the wall. The frame was there, but the painting itself was empty.

"For a headquarters, this place is pretty quiet," she said as she straightened the painting.

"There're usually more people coming and going all day. But Dumbeldore's almost never in. I only saw him yesterday when Mrs. Weasley brought me here. I told him about the vision, Angelina."

She turned around to face him and saw that he was watching her.

"What'd he say?"

"Well he didn't say much…" He looked down and his face turned red. "I kind of got mad at him and ran up into Sirius's room. The next thing I knew, you were here."

"Hmm, well he didn't tell me anything either. He got called away to 'business'. Whatever that is."

She walked around the room, thinking, and then went back to sit on Ron's bed.

"How long do you think Mrs. Weasley's going to be?"

Another Order member had come to talk privately to Mrs. Weasley. When the meeting was over, they all would be going over to spend the night at The Burrow. Angelina was not looking forward to it, but she felt restless and anxious. She didn't want to stay in this dark, haunting house either.

"I think they just left," he said, getting off his bed and listening hard. A door could be heard as it was gently shut. A couple minutes later, there were footsteps on the stairs and Mrs. Weasley stuck her head into the room to tell them they would be leaving soon. It suddenly seemed too early to go over to The Burrow. But Angelina knew she was just being nervous. With a silent sigh, Angelina ignored her beating heart and got ready to spend the rest of the night at the Weasley house.

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It was just as bad as I thought it would be.

Angelina was seated at the massive dinner table with the other six Weasley's, Harry, and Oliver. When she had arrived, she could already tell something was wrong. Both Oliver and Fred were avoiding her, and sending angry glances at each other. Harry had immediately gone over to talk to Oliver. And although he listened to Harry, Oliver seemed distracted and a little moody. Angelina had been left to herself, unsure how welcome she really was in the Weasley house again.

The oldest three Weasley children were missing, but Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George were present at home. Ron divided his attention between talking to Oliver about playing as Griffindor's new keeper, and talking to Angelina about her goal to play on the Chudley Cannons—his favorite Qudditch team. Ginny seemed to be a little cold towards her, and Fred and George were a lost hope. Arthur Weasley had been the only Weasley to send a warm greeting towards Angelina. She told him about her parents and then they talked for a while.

When dinnertime came, the issue of where to sit and by whom came into play. Angelina sat first and everyone filled in around her. She sat between Mr. Weasley and Ron. Oliver sat across from Ron and was separated from the twins by Ginny. Although Angelina sat on one side of the table facing the twins and Oliver, no words passed between them. Harry and Ron bombarded Oliver with questions about Quidditch. Ginny talked mostly to her parents about the past school year and the twins huddled together, talking amongst themselves. Angelina felt an underlying tension and couldn't really enjoy the company. Looking around the table, though, Angelina wondered if it was just her.

All too soon, after dessert and more awkward "talk time" for Angelina, they were all heading upstairs for bed. Angelina would be sleeping in Ginny's room and so she took her time. She didn't feel the girl liked her much to begin with, whether Angelina was going out with Fred or coaching the Griffindor team.

Angelina entered to find a pair of folded pajamas on a second bed and Ginny already changed and reading in her own bed. When Angelina went to the second bed, Ginny expressed how tired she was and swiftly put away the book, settled under the covers, and turned her back to her companion.

Angelina rolled her eyes. What was with everyone? Feeling distinctly moody, she took the pajamas to the bathroom. A few minutes later she emerged from the bathroom and decided to take the long way back to the room. If she remembered correctly, this hallway would lead around past Ron's room and back to Ginny's. She started down the hallway but after walking a while, realized the hallway she was thinking of was one floor down. She kept walking, though, because she was sure she would eventually end up in the right place.

As she passed a room she heard a rustling. She retraced her steps as the rustling turned to banging. She pushed open the slightly ajar door and found a room full of muggle exercise equipment. At first she didn't see anyone and the banging continued. Eventually, movement from the farthest corner of the room caught her eye. And then the banging stopped.

Oliver Wood stood on the other side of the room, shirt off and body sweating. His chest puffed in and out as he tried to catch his breath and Angelina willed her eyes to stay on his face. He had stopped working out when he realized she had entered. A metal workout equipment was held loosely in his hands.

"I didn't know the Weasley's had a whole training room upstairs," she said, picking up a particularly heavy piece of iron.

He gave her a hard glare and with a wave of his wand, all the equipment was packed away into two pocket-sized boxes.

"Portable Training Room. Dead useful," he replied. He made to go pass her and leave the room but she grabbed his arm.

"Oliver, what's with you? And Fred, and George, and everyone."

She admitted, to herself, that it was definitely harder to talk to Oliver with his shirt off.

He looked down at the hand that still grasped his arm. Angelina let go immediately and put her hands on her hips.

"I dunno what you're talking about," he mumbled, looking around the room. He spotted his shirt and pulled it on.

Angelina felt a small pang of disappointment, which she ignored.

"Don't know do you? You've hardly said anything to me all night. And I think Fred and George are mad at me too. What happened after I left? Did you get into a fight?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of? Hey, I'm talking to you!" she snapped as he made to go pass her again.

Frustrated, she placed both hands on his shoulders and pushed with all her might. Having not expected the blow, Oliver teetered dangerously, destined to take her down with him. They struggled for a second, both trying to stay upright. Angelina grabbed a hold of his shirt, which ripped, and Oliver looped an arm around her waist. In the end they managed to keep their balance, but it wasn't exactly what they had aimed for. Angelina's head rested against the course hairs of his chest and she felt that she was pressed way too close for comfort.

A couple seconds went by and Angelina wondered why he hadn't loosened his grip. Then suddenly, he removed his hand and Angelina was holding on of her own accord. When she realized what she was doing, she stepped back and gave him one of her sternest glares.

"What's wrong with you and Fred."

Surprisingly, instead of wilting at her tone, he began to smile. Angelina narrowed her eyes; she didn't trust that smile.

"Oh nothing is wrong with me and Fred. He's just angry because he found out you spent the night at my house last night."

"You told him WHAT?" Before she knew it, her hand was coming up and she slapped Oliver Wood right across the cheek. She would've done it again except he grabbed her hand on the second swing.

"Let me go! What the bloody hell's wrong with you. You know damn well I didn't sleep with you last night." She tugged at her hand, but he held on tight.

"Funny how you're so upset over what Fred may think when you saw with your own eyes, yesterday, that he was shagging some other girl—"

"I don't care what he thinks, Oliver. I'm mad at how much of a git you are!" she screamed, cursing him with her eyes alone.

The nerve of him, she thought. Saying what he did as if he had claimed some prize. She was not a trophy to be won by him or Fred. And she didn't need him to remind her of what Fred had done. She was still hurt by it.

She was so angry she went to slap him with her other hand. Effortlessly, he caught the hand in mid swing and she felt she was completely trapped.

"Listen, Angie, I didn't mean it like that."

She snorted at him and rolled her eyes.

"I didn't! He made all the assumptions himself."

"And you're saying you didn't do or say anything to make Fred form these assumptions?"

"No."

"Bullshit," she spat.

"Alright that's it, Angie. You're gonna have to—"

"No, you, listen Mr. Oliver Wood, —"

"—stop accusing me of—"

"—you're a worthless excuse for—"

"—being a bastard or I'll just—"

"—Dammit, LET ME—"

"GO!"

The word echoed around the room. They stared at each other, breathing hard and eyes glaring angrily. Oliver let go of her hands and she clutched them to her chest, rubbing at a spot where his fingers had grasped too hard.

His eyes followed her hands and his anger began to fade away.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, coming closer to examine her hand.

She pulled it back from his view. He was uncomfortably close again and Angelina looked down, choosing to stare at his naked chest instead.

"You didn't hurt me," she lied.

"Yes I did. Dammit, Angie, let me see." He grabbed her hands again, but this time he was gentle. He turned over her hands to examine the tender area at her wrist. The delicate flesh was starting to bruise and Angelina heard him groan softly.

"Oh, Angie, I'm sorry."

He raised one of her hands to his lips, and then the other, placing a small kiss on each.

Angelina watched, mesmerized. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears and the flesh at her wrist began to tingle. She was barely aware as he let go of her hands and clutched her face instead. Turning her head up, she watched through lowered lashes as he bent down to bring his lips to hers.

Their kiss was delicate—a whisper of a caress. Angelina felt the tension leave her body and she sighed against his lips. She leaned in a little, shifting her body to conform to his. She heard his soft groan. And just like that the kiss began to change. Like the rekindling of embers, desire flared up within them. Their kisses became tortured, each desperate to experience all that they could get. Oliver placed his hands on her waist, pulling her ever closer. Angelina wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoes. Raising her arms had lifted her shirt and one of Oliver's hands sneaked under the hem to caress the soft skin underneath. Delicious tingles raced across her skin and Angelina moaned into his mouth. But as his fingers crept higher, a frantic thought entered Angelina's head.

They were in her ex-boyfriend's parents' house.

She pulled back forcefully, tugging at the hem of her shirt. She felt ashamed that she had let it go so far. And yet, she was aching to go back into his arms and forget about everything.

They stood there catching their breaths. Angelina wrapped her arm around herself, not trusting them to behave and stay by her side. Oliver crossed his arms, presumably for the same reason.

They stared at each other.

"I don't know—"

"I didn't mean—"

They stopped and stared at each other some more.

"I'm going to bed," Angelina said at last.

"Yeah, goodnight," Oliver said to her retreating back.

She exited the room and followed the hallway back to Ginny's room. Ginny hadn't moved an inch and Angelina crept passed to the second bed. She wiggled between the covers and closed her eyes.

Then she opened them and looked around.

"Damn, it wasn't a dream."

Angelina squeezed her eyes shut again with a groan. She willed herself to go to sleep and not think about the next day, but tomorrow loomed before her as immovable and enticing as Oliver had. Oh, tomorrow would be interesting, indeed.

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A/N: Woo! So, a little more action in this chapter. What did everyone think? Please review.