Disclaimer: I do not own or am endorsed with Harry Potter™ or any of its elements. This plot and its ideas are completely non-profit, original, and owned by me, and unconnected to the actual series. I also do not own the quotes placed at the beginning of each chapter unless stated otherwise. Any lyrics are not owned by me.
Author's Notes: About appearances…in the series, they do not describe how Oliver or Katie looks, although in the movie Oliver has rather fair hair and a Scottish accent, which is how I portray him. My description of Katie is below, and once again, don't sue if this doesn't go along with your opinions. If you don't like it, don't read it! Oh, and let's say Katie's twentieth birthday is going to be on October 12. Also, I believe in Stone that the way currency was exchanged was twenty-odd knuts (pronounced k-nuts, apparently) equaled one sickle, and seventeen sickles equaled a galleon.
Summary: Oliver Wood is twenty-two but very much the same young man who graduated from Hogwarts four years ago, with all the same memories…especially of one girl and a promise. And as he's passing through Diagon Alley, he happens upon her. Oliver/Katie.
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October Sugar Cones
Chapter 2
"Why is she toying with us? That crazy chick is gonna eat us!" —Timon, from the Disney movie The Lion King 1½
Oliver was stunned. Just a minute ago, he had uttered her name and she his. He had recognized her, and she in turn him. Mouth open slightly, he stared at her, dumbstruck. It was definitely Katie—the same long blonde hair that wouldn't curl no matter how much she tried (until in frustration she used her wand), the same inquisitive green eyes, the same dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose—although she looked older and more mature than he remembered. Her full pink lips had a slight sheen to them (he suspected lip gloss, something she used to have to be forced to apply to herself) and were compressed tightly and her eyebrows were two staccato lines dangerously slanted inwards in a gesture of impatience. All in all, the general effect was not unlike Professor McGonagall. But Professor McGonagall wasn't that pretty.
"Your order, sir?" Katie repeated, accenting the sir almost mockingly.
Oliver bit his lip in frustration. Sensing his mood, she sighed heatedly and casually drew her wand. He eyed it warily; if memory served, she had been the top of her Transfiguration class and as a Chaser she was not afraid to do what was required to win. He had admired that, and he supposed he still did. She had tact, that was certain—she'd blocked all ways of escape, and there was nothing for it but the white flag of surrender.
"Pumpkin with black licorice sprinkles, waffle cone," he retorted flatly. He attempted to conceal his anger, but perhaps the vein pulsing in his temple and the way he slammed the twenty knuts through the pay window defeated the purpose.
"There you are, sir," said Katie sweetly. "Next?"
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Oliver stormed through the bustling crowds of Diagon Alley, furiously licking his ice cream. Why was she doing this to him? 'Women,' he thought furiously. 'Always antagonizing and interfering and making life difficult! To think I once made a promise to her!' He nevertheless remembered it well. They had been in the Gryffindor common room in front of the gradually dying fire, awake later than even the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. And they were still there, when the fire was mere embers, finally cold in the grate, although they didn't notice it had died. He had been holding her in his arms, warm in spite of the frigid night and lack of heat, and they'd—
"Watch where you're going, moron!" screeched an elderly witch as they collided. Her curses became louder and more colorful as he knocked her numerous packages sprawling. Something cracked. It sounded expensive. "Give some thought to where you're going before you fracture your skull, you uncoordinated simpleton!" Alarmed, Oliver hurriedly gathered her possessions and endured language that would have made a sailor pale, contritely begging forgiveness all the while. One very firm rap on the head with her umbrella, the dodging of a Stinging Hex, and the malevolent old bat was gone.
Rubbing his head and swearing under his breath, Oliver made his way out of Diagon Alley. He was definitely no different than when he left Hogwarts, and without a doubt more of a klutz.
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Dear Angie and Alicia,
I regret that I haven't really seen you since your double-wedding, but I presumed that the Weasleys were having enough trouble accepting two new members to the family. Before you read on, make sure that you are the only ones who see this letter, because I think Gred and Forge would find this most amusing, and if they did chance upon it, I certainly would not be the happiest of souls.
But anyway, do you recall that I work at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor? Well, you'll never guess who showed up. No, really, you wouldn't guess, so I'll just tell you: Oliver Wood. That bastard! He obviously thought I would be glad to see him. You know my views; I cussed about him as creatively as I could for an hour and a half, and I know you did not—and could not—forget the experience. Nor did Professor McGonagall, when she caught me screaming that he should screw an open electric wire. I hope that after spending some time around Mr. Weasley, you'll know what an electric wire is, especially when it's not closed. I would have sent him (Oliver) a Howler if I knew how, and I still don't. But enough about Oliver. I'm sure he's found a new girl that can satisfy his masculine appetites, now that he's acquired the status of Puddlemere United heartthrob.
I admit I'm more than slightly confused, as I discovered it still hurts, and I'm not only hurting, perplexed, and despondent, I'm absolutely enraged! I would dearly love your advice, and perhaps we could have a chat over ice cream. Remember, I have a valuable discount, and I would treat you.
The best
to the Weasleys, and all my love to you,
Katie
P.S. At the time, it's about two hours after the unfortunate confrontation, and raining. I know that rain slows down owls, but I'm convinced Rigby is doing the best he can. After all, common barn owls are usually quite reliable. I hope that you recognize him—it's been a year at least since he's delivered to either of you.
Wow, seven reviews! I didn't think I'd even get one. Anywho, I hope you liked it. And I just discovered I like short chapters, although I'm very disappointed with myself for not coming up with a longer chapter. Also, as I say to fleur137, I won't be able to update all that fast anymore because I have school!
Mave
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fleur137—Well, I did update pretty darn fast. Unfortunately, I won't be able to do that so often anymore because I'm very busy during the week.
TheBrassPotato—Stop? I couldn't stop if I wanted to. I've spent too much time thinking up this story, and I still would like feedback on where you think I should go with it…even I'm not definite on how it's going to be. I really appreciate what you think of my writing style…most reviewers talk about the actual story, but not many mention the author's style! I do try. And sorry if I end on cliffhangers, but sometimes it happens. I'm planning at the very least ten chapters, so sit tight! I couldn't leave my readers with one chapter. Oneshots are fun, but this is definitely not a oneshot.
Randomisation—Reeli? I'm so pleased you like it. I can't wait to continue either, although progress will be slower.
cheekymonkey31—You honestly think it's that good? Well, then, I hope you think this is good too. At least good enough to merit a review. (smiles encouragingly)
Professional scatterbrain—Gotta say you have an awesome penname and know how to make an author happy! I'm pleased you think the way I portrayed Ollie is good, I always thought it was funny too. "Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first! Honestly, the way she was yelling at me…you'd think I said something terrible…" (That's an actual quote, by the way.)
FizzingWhizbeez—I agree, the Oliver/Katie ship is great. I'm thrilled you think this story shows promise, even from the first chapter!
adrilily—I do try to make this romance cute…it's not always really fluffy, though. Case point: Katie's letter.