Oh, while I was reading HBP, I realized that Katie was a year younger than Alicia and everybody, and for my fanfic's sake, we're going to pretend that J.K. Rowling never mentioned that.
December 8, Friday, 9 pm
I came out of transfig., knowing I had just failed the double period test and I was heading back to the common room.
"Katie!"
I turned around and there was Oliver, making his way through the crowd. Normally I don't see him in the hall unless I'm going to charms every other day.
"Katie," He had finally made his way over to me. He held me roughly by the elbow, rattling me a bit.
"Meet me at the pitch in 30 minutes," he whispered in my ear roughly before rushing down the stairs.
"Ok," I called to his back. What was I going to tell him, 'no'? He's my captain for Christ's sake. I couldn't say no. But I should've realized something was wrong.
1: Oliver never calls a last minute practice.
2: he was walking all weird and hunched over. Oliver is like almost 6 feet tall and never tried to look shorter.
3: He's never grabbed me so roughly. He rarely touches me at all and when he does it's only when I a guiding hand or a hug.
4: he was moving all rigid and awkward. I've been on the same team as him for the past four years, his movements are always fluid and smooth. He's a keeper, he has to be, we all do.
5: I don't think Oliver has ever, EVER, called me Katie. Ever since he meet me when I tried out for the team, it has always been Kat. He's the only one who calls me that.
I should've gone and found Alicia or Angelina or the tins to make sure Oliver told them, but Oliver would never miss anyone. So, I went to the pitch. I just assumed it was practice. When has Oliver Wood ever gone to the pitch and not run practice?
So I changed into my robes. No one else was in the locker room. I just figured I was either the first or the last one here. Both have happened before. I went out onto the field, expecting the team to be there and Oliver yelling at me for being late.
But not even Oliver was out there. I stood stupidly in the middle of the field with my broom in my hand. I looked at my watch, I was supposed to be here at 3:30 and it was getting close to 4. I should've turned on my heel and left.
Then I saw someone signaling me from one of the top stands. I squinted a bit and realized it was Oliver.
So I flew up there and found Oliver. He was sitting on the 2nd bench, his feet on the 1st and leaning back on the 3rd. And he was eating a bag of nacho cheese chips. More weird stuff. Oliver never, ever, once in a blue moon, ate chips. And when he did they were always cool ranch. He looked up when I landed in front of him.
"Hey Katie," he said smiling, "Sit." he patted the spot next to him.
Even his smile was weird. Like he wasn't sure how to move his mouth, like he was smiling for the first time. And, he gave me a command! He didn't ask me to sit, he told me to sit. I never let Oliver order me around unless it was during practice, other than that he knew there was a very firm boundary.
Either way I sat down to his left.
"Where is everyone?" I asked, how early was I?
he moved closer to me, "What do you mean?" his accent completely gone.
"The team, where are they?" I was looking onto to field and when I looked back he was even closer. It was the only time I had ever been uncomfortable around him.
"They're not coming," he moved even closer so he was only like two inches away.
I knew something was wrong.
But it was Oliver. Wasn't it?
"Are you feeling OK Oliver?" I moved down the bench, but he moved closer. every time I moved away, he moved closer.
"Why do you ask?" my back was against the wall of the stand, but he kept inching closer.
"I dunno, you seem..."
"Seem what?" my whole spine was plastered to the wall, from my tail bone to my head. I wanted to sink into it.
He couldn't have been closer. I realized he smelt funny. No, not funny, funky. Like something crawled down his shirt and died.
"Are you sure you're feeling ok?" I asked, placing a hand on his chest, hoping to stop him from getting any closer.
"Perfect," they he swiped my hand away and kissed me.
Kissed me! The Oliver Wood, my freaking-kilt-wearing-son-of-a-bitch-captain, who has never ever made a move in his life to kiss me! And it was horrible!…I could taste the nacho cheese on his lips. I stopped it the second it started. I pushed him off me and slapped him across the face.
"What has gotten into you Ol-!"
He cut me off with a punch to the face. I felt a trickle of blood from my left cheek bone as he kissed me again. This time I pushed him off with my left leg, punched him in the mouth with my right hand and kicked him in the side of the face with my right foot. He tumbled off the bench to the floor of the stand . I jumped from the bench I was on to the floor where my broom was.
I looked at Oliver before I picked up my broom. He was using the bench to get up and his skin was moving in lumps. Like there were bugs crawling under his skin. Then dark greasy hair replaced Oliver's brown and his amber eyes turned into black ugly coals. I couldn't look anymore. I picked up my broom as Marcus Flint stood up, dressed in Griffindor robes.
He wiped the blood from his mouth, laughing cruelly. The first thing that registered was that my wand was back in my locker. Just as this to mind, Marcus reached into his robes for his, still laughing. I
did the first thing that came to mind. I ran and jumped of the stand, holding onto my broom tight. Let me tell you, free falling is not a good feeling. 15 feet before I hit the ground I hopped on my broom. I don't think I've ever flown faster. I looked back once before I flew over the opposite stands back to the castle. Marcus Flint was still in the stand, yelling and fire misaimed curses and hexes at me. I flew all the way to the main entrance of the school, flat against my broom, my feet barely skimming the grass.
I ran through the doors and sprinted up my stairs. I got a lot of weird looks. I was a speck of scarlet in a sea of black, carrying my broom no less. I knew I had to find Oliver, and I ran around like crazy trying to find him. I finally found him on the seventh floor, heading towards the Fat Lady. Thank god he was alone.
"Oliver!" I was trying not to break down. "Oliver!"
He finally turned around. He wasn't wearing the black robe or vest, his collared shirt was untucked and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His tie was loosened and he was carrying a few books in his right hand.
"Kat?" then he saw the blood and tears trickling down my face. He dropped his books and sprinted towards me. I meet him half way down the corridor where he scooped me up in his arms. I pulled back as a thought struck me. What if it wasn't Oliver, but someone else?
"Oliver, is that you?" I asked through small sobs, turning his face this way and that, trying to find something that didn't belong.
He grabbed my wrists gently, "Kat, what happened?"
His accent, the one that I was so used to and loved, was back. It was definitely Oliver. I threw my arms around his neck and started sobbing. He pulled away and held my shoulders.
"Kat, tell me what happened," he was looking straight into my watery eyes, but I could barely talk.
"You, you told me to-to meet y-you at the pitch an-and-"
"Kat, what are you talking about?"
"W-well, it wasn't you you, but you"
Even I knew I sounded ridiculous. Oliver looked completely dumbfounded. He guided me to an empty classroom where dust was collecting everywhere. He gently nudged me into one of the chairs and kneeled in front of me on one knee. He took my broom and placed it on the floor next to him. Then he helped me take off all my padding, my hands were shaking so much I couldn't unbuckle and unlace them.
He transfigured a desk into a pot of warm water and a cloth, and he gently started cleaning the cut on my left cheek bone. "Kat, what happened?"
I took a long shaky breath, "I came out of a double transfig. test and you, well I thought it was you-you were acting all weird, you grabbed my elbow roughly and told me to meet you at the pitch in 30 minutes. But you always say half and hour and you were moving really awkward and hunched over and-" I stopped and took a deep breath, Oliver was still cleaning the blood on my face and neck. "So I went to the pitch and got ready for practice-but it was last minute and you never call a last minute practice. So I went onto the field and you were in one of the high stands so I flew up there.
"You were eating a bag of nacho cheese chips-I know you hate those- and you kept calling me 'Katie' but you always call me 'Kat'. you were acting all weird so I asked if you were OK and you said perfect. Then you kissed me," Oliver's eyes grew large with shock and anger and starred at me, "I pushed you off and slapped you. Then you punched me and started kissing me again. So I pushed you off with my left leg, punched you in the mouth and kicked you in the side of the head with my other foot. You fell on the floor and when you were getting up your face started to crawl like there were bugs underneath and then you were Marcus Flint," Oliver stopped again when I mentioned Flint's name.
Good thing because I completely broke down. I almost pushed Oliver over. I fell on the floor in front of him, threw my arms around his neck and buried my head in his chest. He held me tight and rocked back and forth slightly.
"It's OK Kat," he cooed softly as I sobbed, drenching part of his shirt, "it's OK"
He held my head in his hands and wiped away my tears with his thumbs, "Better?"
I nodded and he dropped his hands. "Anything else?"
I nodded again and continued. "Then he stood up and wiped the blood from his mouth, laughing," I paused for a second. "Then he went to pull out his wand-"
"-did you have yours?" it was the only time he interrupted.
I shook my head and looked at the floor, "no, so before he drew it, I jumped of the stand. I got on my broom ¾ of the way down and flew to the castle as fast as I could to find you"
A lock of hair had fallen in front of my face and Oliver tucked it behind my ear. When I looked up, he was smiling lovingly.
He helped my up, "Come on, lets go to the common room, you can get your stuff from the locker room tomorrow.
Oliver guided me with one hand around my waist. In his other hand he was carrying my broom with my padding slid on it. Everyone we passed, Oliver glared at with burning eyes. I knew if he saw Marcus's face, he would rip it off.
YAY! I updated! I hope it was good! I felt really bad for making you guys wait so long. So review and tell me whatcha think!