Ayla was watching Oliver. Watching the way his eyes lit up and his smile broadened as he talked to another guest about his team. Her friends were right, he really was attractive. How hadn't she noticed this before? He looked quite adorable as he recounted how well his Chasers had scored in Puddlemere's latest match. His hands gesturing wildly and a mad yet euphoric look of pride was on his face. He had retained his boyish good looks that had made him so popular at Hogwarts, but there was something more. Something different, he had changed somehow. Ayla's perceptiveness failed her, she couldn't put her finger on why she suddenly found him so attractive. The fact that he couldn't stop apologizing and seemed to be actually genuine with her probably wasn't helping either. The other wizard soon left and Ayla found herself gazing into his big brown eyes. He waved a hand in front of her face, laughing gently.
"I'm sorry. I'm boring the life out of you, aren't I?"
Ayla started, "Hmm, eyes…What? No, no of course you're not. I just um got a bit distracted is all."
Oh Merlin she was day dreaming about his eyes. What the hell had gotten into her? Had he put something in her drink? No, that was stupid why would he put anything in her drink? She grinned at him, hoping he wasn't a legimens.
"Would you like another drink? My round." she had to get away from him. Just for a short while, anything so she could sort her rambling thoughts out. He smiled and signaled to a passing house elf, who conjured the drinks from thin air and set them down in front of Ayla. Well that's that plan out the window she thought taking the bottle and trying to drink as much as possible, all the while trying to appear to be as lady like as she could.
"I probably shouldn't, we've got a game tomorrow." Oliver said taking a gulp of his own drink, his eyes once more lighting up. Ayla took this to mean that he was once again thinking about Quidditch. Deep down an unconscious wish that his eyes would light that way at the thought of her, sprang to life inside Ayla. She beat it down almost immediately, she didn't think like that. Not now, not ever.
"Should be an interesting game," she said trying to stop the blush that was currently rising to her cheeks. "What with the weather being so good lately. It's supposed to be perfect flying conditions tomorrow, though the ground might be a bit soft for a fast kick off."
Oliver gaped. She knew Quidditch. Fair enough there were plenty of girls that followed the sport, but very few knew how vital weather conditions could be. He was awestruck.
"Ah Oliver old chap so good to see you. It has been years hasn't it?"
Oliver tore his amazed gaze from the girl sitting opposite him and directed it at the owner of the voice. He recognized the horn rimmed glasses straight away. Percy Weasley. Good old pompous Percy. He grasped Oliver's hand and shook it vigorously.
"Good to see you too Perce, it must be what? Four years?"
"Five and a half actually, but who's counting?"
Oliver shook his head. Conversations with Percy had always been like this. He'd say something and Percy would immediately jump in and correct him.
"Oh this is……uh, this is…." he stumbled over his words. What was her name? They'd been talking for over three hours, surely she'd mentioned her name? He thought back, she'd mentioned her pet kneazle, her mutual hate of social events such as this one, her love of Ancient Runes. But not once had she mentioned her name. Most of the time he'd been talking Quidditch. Why hadn't he asked her name? He looked at her apologetically, about to explain himself when Percy interrupted.
"Ayla Jenson! Gosh it really has been a long time since I've seen or even heard any news about you. Still friends with Penny?"
Git knows everything thought Oliver.
Ayla smiled politely at Percy, what Penelope had seen in him was anyone's guess. She had never known anyone to be so consistently formal.
"Yes, I spoke to her this morning actually. She's doing very well for herself." Ayla silently added the words 'without you' in her head and continued to smile.
"So what is it you've been up to all these years then that I know nothing about. You're not at the Ministry are you? I'm sure I'd know about that?"
Ayla inwardly groaned, in five years she had not missed this boy one bit. How could one person be so competitive all the time? And over academics? It was almost as bad as being Quidditch obsessed.
"Well, I'm working in Quality Quidditch Supplies. My uncle owns the company and I run the Diagon Alley branch."
Ayla knew it wasn't very impressive. To still be working in her so called summer job, in a shop owned by a family member was hardly ambitious. But she had done well for herself. She had her own, admittedly very small home and was happy. How many other people could say the same? Plus she had only started the job to earn a bit of cash, after the Dark Lord had risen she hardly saw the point in starting a new career when she could be dead the next day. Oh what did she care what Percy Weasley thought anyway?
"Excellent, excellent. It's always so nice to hear of old school chums doing well for themselves. Well I must dash, the Minister is expecting me."
With a swish of his cloak he was gone and Ayla let out a sigh, hoping that it would be at least another five years before she had to speak to him again.
"Insufferable big head." she muttered causing Oliver to choke on a mouthful of Butterbeer. She grinned and spent the rest of the next two hours verbally bashing Percy. Asking Oliver if Percy had always been like that? Why couldn't her be normal like everyone else? And how in Hades was it possible for him to be related to his complete opposites, Fred and George? Ayla liked the twins, she could spend ages just wandering around Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, marveling at the incredible array of inventions. But she would never fully believe the three boys were closely related. Surely there was a potion that would prove Percy was not some distant relative? Until she found it Ayla couldn't bring herself to think otherwise.
Oliver let Ayla talk for the rest of the evening. It was no surprise her being in Ravenclaw, she was an extremely clever witch. He could tell just by listening to her talk. But he couldn't remember her from school. They'd obviously been in the same year, which meant they must have had at least one class together. It was funny but he just couldn't remember her at all.
She had definitely not been on her House team either. He knew he would remember that much. Though what the Ravenclaw captain had been thinking was beyond him, this girl seemed to know Quidditch almost as well as he did. It was incomprehensible to Oliver. No wonder Ravenclaw had never won the school cup.
Ayla yawned, she checked her watch and was surprised to find how close to midnight it was. Time had really flown tonight, she barely felt as if she'd been talking to Oliver for an hour let alone four. The Ball was winding down and the guests were beginning to leave. She had to get home herself, she was back in work in the morning and there was no way she could handle Quidditch mad customers on a couple of hours sleep. She said goodbye to Oliver, telling him that despite his best efforts to both injure and drown her, she had honestly had a good night. She apparated home too tired to queue for the next available fireplace.
Her kneazle Jynx was waiting by her fireplace for her when she arrived home with a loud pop. She scooped him up in her arms and trudged off to bed.
"You know what Jynxy? Quidditch players aren't all as bad as I thought." she said drifting off to sleep. A certain Scottish accent filled her dreams that night.
