A/N : Ah, shit. I've just been reading a HP parody and now everything I'm writing seems parody-ish. I had to delete a whole bunch of stuff I wrote, all because of the whole typical parody fare. There was a duel with light sabers over a pink fluffy thong, Oliver got a cardiac arrest but then decided he had to get up so that the readers would be happy and touched and would squee with delight and I mean, really. I was halfway into the chapter's first half before I realized what I was doing – making the characters sing a rousing rendition of…no, I'm sorry, you don't want to know. The amount of reviews for the last chapter were miniscule – ouch, guys, was it really that bad? ::prays for more reviews this chappie:: You know, I'm not sure I should even have put in that thong in the beginning of the chapter, it's way too parodized…::hides from folk who wrote the Oxford Dictionary:: Forgive me if this chapter becomes an all-singing, all-dancing extravaganza. It's really not my fault, it's that Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of A Cabana…
Oliver's POV
Chapter Thirteen : Sky, Stands And A Little Bit Of Katie
I woke up this morning with a funny sort of feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"Today's the day!" I crowed to nobody in particular, jumping out of bed and proceeding to trip on somebody's pink fluffy thong.
"What the –" I said, staring at the thong and reaching over to pick it up, completely mystified.
Yes, yes, I was mystified, I've never actually gotten to observe a thong up close before, and this is the perfect opportunity for me to bond with the more famous bunch of the underwear species…
At this moment, Xander walked out of our adjoining bathroom, toweling his wet hair and glanced at me for a second. "Hey, could you pass my thong over, please?"
"GAAAAAH!" I yelled, and flung it over to the other side of the room wildly.
It landed on Joshua Harper's head.
Josh then proceeded to go through the Complete, Unabridged Dictionary Of All Swear Words, Threats And Remotely Dangerous-Sounding Phrases Long Gone And In Current Use backwards, forwards, and then in seventy-four different languages. Round and repeat. Round and repeat. Round and repeat.
Xander delicately picked his – shudder – thong off Josh's head, ducking a flailing fist aimed for his groin area. He shot me a "What do you think's up with him?" look and walked back into the bathroom.
"Today's the day, alright," I muttered and sank back into bed.
Seeing Xander and his pink, fluffy thong first thing in the morning cannot be a very good sign. He and his stupid thong have probably messed up the rules of the universe, changed my lucky star's course through the skies, turned the heavens against me; I'm not going out there into the Real World now and risk being Katied into oblivion…
"Right, the bathroom's free, help yourselves…" Xander called, coming out of the bathroom clad in his robes – I had a mental image of a very pink, very fluffy thong hiding underneath that black mass of fabric…
I let out a strangled cry and quickly ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. For the moment, I was safe from Xander's thong. His pink…fluffy…
NO!
Okay, let's not think about Xander. Let's think about…think about…Katie. Of course, she's all I've been able to think about for a while now, so it wouldn't really make much of a difference.
It was never like this with Cordelia. That girl is an ice queen, and I swear, I don't know how I ever managed to stay with her for so long in the first place. As for Katie, however…
Right.
That reminds me.
Today is the day, after all.
Get your arse in gear, Oliver, because today you will succeed in seducing Katie Bell in the most manly yet sensual way possible!
Amen.
The excitement was contagious as my four roommates and I climbed up the stands of the Quidditch pitch. So was a particularly bad cold that had been going around the school lately and steadily getting worse as December ever approached. As David and Josh once again reminded us of the beauty and freedom that would await us if we chose to lead the Path of Bisexuality, my stomach turned as I caught sight of Katie sitting at the far end of the stands by herself. Angelina, Alicia and Adelene – the triple As – were clearly nowhere near her.
"Hey, guys, I'll see you after the match, alright?" I said and sprinted off to her, ignoring David's miffed voice saying, 'Well, if he didn't want to hear about our escapades in the Shrieking Shack, he could have just asked."
I slowed my pace as I neared her, praying that she hadn't seen or heard me coming. What if she transfigured me into a piece of toast, like she did to Marcus Flint? I mean, not to be a ponce or anything, but I personally think I'm above rye status…perhaps French toast would be a better alternative…
"WOOD!"
I had just enough time to register this before my mind took in these three things : Sky, stands, Katie, sky, stands, Katie, sky, stands, Katie.
Round and repeat.
Round and repeat.
Then with a loud thud, ground met Oliver.
I opened my eyes to see Katie's wide ones looking into mine. Then I realized the position we were both in was hardly one that any professor would approve of, so I quickly got to my feet, offering her my hand to help her up.
"Crap, I'm sorry, Katie, I didn't see you –" I stuttered as she seized my hand, nearly pulling me off balance.
"Well, that was rather obvious," she replied sarcastically. Seeing my forlorn face, something in her expression seemed to soften. "It's okay, Oliver – I'm just a little miffed at flashing the entire school since I'm not wearing anything under these robes and all. No biggie."
Homina homina homina!
"Excuse me?" I blurted out, taking a step back from her and feeling extremely embarrassed for a second. For a second. Because then the extreme too-much-information-combined-with-much-excitement crept in. "You really…aren't…wearing anything…as in anything…underneath your robes?"
Katie gave me a strange look. "Of course I am, Oliver, it's bloody freezing out here – have you lost your mind?"
I looked at her and ran a hand shakily through my hair, feeling very confused.
"But…but you said…"
I am calm. I am calm.
"I was joking, Oliver. You know, pulling your leg? Taking the mickey?"
"Blowing your butt trumpet?"
Both of us spun around in surprise to see George behind us, listening to our every word.
"I'm sorry?" Katie said.
"Did somebody blow their butt trumpet? Because it smells awful down here…I take that as a no?" George finally guessed, looking at the expressions on our faces. "Alright, kids, since there doesn't seem to be anything wrong, might I suggest the two of you SIT DOWN because I'm trying to enjoy the game with Lene."
He grabbed Katie and I by our sleeves and proceeded to march us over to a bench, sitting us down there and finally saying oh-so-graciously," Thank you."
And then he walked off again.
Well, at least he saved me the trouble of asking her whether I could sit down with her.
"Katie, I know you've been ignoring me lately but please don't leave me!" I suddenly said in a rush, wincing the very second the words fell out of my lips.
I mean, could I SOUND any more desperate?
To my surprise, she just said, "Uh…okay?"
And the atmosphere between us was left like that for the first three quarters of the game, because I was too much of a chicken to say a word to her. I have to admit, I was surprised I wasn't already a melted pool of nothingness on the bench. Slytherin was currently in the lead and there had been a nasty incident involving Roger Davies and Draco Malfoy, but other than that, the match was getting boring – even for an avid Quidditch fan like me.
"That Malfoy wouldn't be able to catch a Snitch if it were hovering right next to him – oh, wait, that actually did happen once, didn't it?" I finally ventured, breaking the silence that lay between Katie and I.
"Yep," she replied, eyes trailing after one of the Ravenclaw Chasers.
"And that Davies – he can't play at all, can he? I've seen chipmunks playing better than him…"
"I think he's pretty good," Katie cut in.
"You do?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," she said, finally turning to me.
"Katie?"
"What?"
"You're being a bitch."
If I were a girl, I'd give a great big "Meow" right about now.
"Excuse me?" she said, looking completely thrown.
"You're being a bitch," I told her calmly – nothing like I was feeling inside – and turned back to the match, trying to ignore her staring at me in shock on my right.
Call me insane and I would agree with you.
"And…and what makes you think I'm being a bitch, exactly?" she finally spluttered out.
I turned to her and gave her a look that implied many, many things; all of them wise and all-knowing. As they should be.
Of course, I suppose you wouldn't expect anything less from me.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, don't give me that Look crap," she snapped and turned away again to watch as Montague scored once again for Slytherin.
And she asks me why I think she's being a bitch?
But then I realized something very interesting.
"That 'Look crap'? Pray tell, what 'Look crap' are you referring to?"
I noticed a hot flush creep up Katie's neck as she mumbled something completely illegible to human ears.
"I'm sorry?" I said politely. Oh, my dear old mum would be so proud!
"Oh, come on, you know what I mean," she said irritably, apparently still watching the game with avid interest, ignoring the fact that I was currently waving my hand so close in front of her eyes that she wouldn't be able to see a thing in the first place.
"No, Katie, I'm afraid I don't," I responded in the same polite tone. "You see, the term 'Look crap' is not something one usually hears in normal, everyday conversations."
She finally turned to look at me, eyes flashing angrily.
"Oh, come off it, Orli, you big buffoon –"
"I'm a big what?"
"A buffoon! A buffoon with that stupid Look of yours that makes me feel like either smacking you or k-"
She stopped abruptly, eyes widening, and she clapped her right hand over her mouth. "No, no, bad Katie!" I hear her murmur indistinctly.
"Um…Katie?" I ventured tentatively. "Are you alright?"
"Yes!" she said a little too quickly. I watched as her shoulders sagged and she suddenly looked extremely tired. In the background, I heard the Ravenclaws cheer as their Beater nearly knocked one of the Slytherin players off his broom. All of a sudden, I had a feeling that maybe I had gone too far – maybe she had bitten off more of whatever it was than she could chew.
I was about to tell her to forget about the whole darned thing when she suddenly said, "I'm sorry, Oliver."
I blinked.
"What?"
"I'm sorry. I know I've been horrible to you for a while now – and will you please pay attention to me and not to the match because I'm never apologizing to you again – and I know this probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense right now, but nothing actually does if you really think about it and you have no idea how much pressure I'm under right now but –"
"Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"
"Huh?"
"Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?" I asked again, as patiently and kindly as I could.
She looked taken aback for a moment. "I – I can't, because – because –"
My heart sank slightly. Why was she refusing? Why –
"Oh, screw it. Alright. I'll go."
Now I was the one who was taken aback.
"Are you…are you serious?" I finally managed to say.
Now that she had actually agreed, I didn't feel too cool and calm any more. Funny how much life can suck that way.
"Please, Oliver," Katie said, rolling her eyes, and for the first time that day she gave me a small smile. "Have you ever known me to be serious, in all the seven years we've known each other?"
"Oh. You mean…?"
"No! No, no, I'd love to go with you. In fact…it'd probably do me some good. Really. I – I'm glad you asked me."
And she smiled a beautiful smile at me, and in the background I could hear the crowd screaming at fever pitch as one of the Seekers caught the Snitch. My usual, Quidditch-obsessed self would have cursed myself at missing the climax of the match, in fact at missing almost the entire match – but strangely, I didn't seem to care about either of the above. Because Katie was smiling at me, and the both of us were going to be going to Hogsmeade the very next day. I hadn't felt this happy in a long, long time.
Of course, the first thing I did when I got back to the Gryffindor Tower was ask Xander for a full commentary of the match.
What, you didn't expect me to give up Quidditch for life, did you?
Huh.
Perish the thought.
A/N : Yay! Another chapter finished! God, I know this took ages as well, and I am so sorry! It's bloody Fiction Alley Park. I've become addicted. I MUST STOP. And there was this whole thing with a *cough*small*cough* infatuation with a certain somebody, which basically ended up distracting me from typing anything more than three sentences per hour. Yell at me in a review, please, so I'll be all guilty and hopefully end up updating soon. Se you next chappie, folks! =)
