Ayla didn't hear from Oliver for over a week. And when she did hear his voice, half way through the worst first week of the New Year of her life, he wasn't actually talking to her.
"So then Oliver, busy year coming up for you eh? Just two more matches and the National Cup could well be sitting in Puddlemere's trophy case.", Darrell's soft voice filtered through Ayla's radio.
"Well yeah. It's mad really. But great, really, really great.", Oliver felt uncomfortable. He was very conscious of the fact that people were listening to what he was saying. This hadn't happened for a while. The last person who had actually listened to what he had said was Ayla. And that had pretty much ended in disaster. Bloody Bradford.
"But I'm sure our listeners want to hear about more than Quidditch. I happen to know for a fact that a few young ladies want to get to know the man under the uniform. So what are your other interests?"
Oliver was lost. Other interests? He doubted that Quidditch training counted as something else.
"Uh.."
"Mind you, I doubt you have much time for anything other than Quidditch. Which we'll all agree is a damn fine sport. But how about New Year? Do anything special?"
Oliver flashed a grateful smile at Darrell. Thank Merlin he'd been saved from looking like some blithering idiot, who couldn't string a sentence together.
"Yeah actually. We, the uh team, went out for a few drinks. They're a great bunch of lads."
"Cool, cool. So where was it you went?", Darrell nodded, hoping to encourage Oliver a bit more. Wood was difficult to talk to. It wasn't like the guy was shy or anything. He just couldn't talk about anything but Quidditch. Darrell knew he listeners needed something more to hold their attention.
"Uh the Drunken Doxy on Whitaker Street. Great place, really good atmosphere you know?"
"Oh yeah, cool place. Bet it was packed to the rafters."
Oliver grinned. "Yeah it was. It was great to see so many people out, enjoying themselves."
He had enjoyed the night, well up to a point.
"Right. So see anyone special while you were out?", Darrell prodded.
Thank Merlin, it had taken them so long to get to this point. Darrell knew this was what everyone was waiting for.
"Uh no. Not really. Just a few old friends."
Damn it. What was wrong with this guy? If he didn't want to do this interview, why did he agree in the first place? It wasn't that hard to say no, he'd said it enough times today to prove that.
"So, no special lady in your life? No special someone who you spent a magical moment with?"
Oliver shifted nervously in his seat. He liked Ayla. And he'd been pretty sure she liked him. But then there was that thing with Bradford. Damn he really didn't want to think about that now.
"Uh well, there is someone. Well I think. I'm not really sure where I stand."
"Well you heard it here first guys. Any chance you'll let us know who the lucky witch or wizard is?"
Oliver chuckled. "Well she's a witch. But I think I'll keep the rest to myself, 'til I know how she feels."
"That's cool man, you go out there and get your witch. And if that lucky lady is listening, send us an owl. Let the poor guy know how you feel.", Darrell grinned. At least the guy was starting to open up. "Well, we'll hear more from Puddlemere's hottest property after this awesome new tune from the Weird Sisters."
The interview carried on in much the same way. By the end Oliver was exhausted. Who knew talking about yourself was so tiring? It was near closing time when he left the W.W.N's offices, and in all honesty, he thought, what harm could one drink do? He strolled into the Doxy and signalled the bar-wizard for his drink. It was a shame really; this place was like the teams local. Any time they had celebrated or drowned their sorrows, this had been very rare of course, it had been here. Now the place seemed, tainted.
Wait, what the hell was he talking about? It was just a pub. And Ayla was just another witch. But then he doubted there was another witch out there like her. Although, if she had to kiss another wizard here, he'd have hoped it would have been someone better than Bradford. The man was such a…slut. Oliver had been sure she had better taste than that. Still it wasn't really his problem was it? They didn't mean anything to one another, they were barely what you'd call friends.
Maybe that was it. She was more like an annoying little sister to him than a girlfriend or something. Even though he was an only child he was sure that's what this feeling was. The thing with Bradford only annoyed him because he, Oliver, wanted to protect Ayla. He'd never realised until now how simple this all was. He grinned to himself, with that sorted he'd be sure to sleep easy tonight.
Still one thing annoyed him. As he had left the interview, that Darrell bloke had pulled him to one side and warned him to be careful with whom-ever the mystery witch was. He'd winked as well. It seemed like odd behaviour for someone who was practically a stranger. Oliver dismissed the thought once more, the sneaky git was probably trying to get an exclusive out of him.
"Hi, mind if I join you?"
Oliver looked up from his drink, standing in front of him was a pretty blonde witch. Her hair was perfect, her skin was flawless and her clothes seemed made for her alone. In short she wasn't the type of girl Oliver was used to talking to.
"Uh yeah sure. I was just leaving anyway."
It wasn't a lie. He had only come in for one drink, and that had long since gone.
"Oh no, don't leave because of me. I'll just find somewhere else to sit. I just thought that you might like some company, you looked quite lonely.", she smiled prettily and Oliver had been sure he'd seen her pout too.
"No, no it's not that. I only came in for one," he held up his glass. "And well I have an early start tomorrow so.."
So what, he thought? So I'm going to leave now when she was only trying to be nice? But had he really looked that lonely? He was pretty sure he just looked like he always did: normal.
"Oh. So what exactly is it that you do, that has you up so early on a Thursday morning? Surely it's not so important that you can't have one more drink? Just to keep me company?"
There was that smile again. Oliver felt like it was the most charming smile he had ever seen. It wasn't like Ayla's, hers was warm and kind. But this girl, Merlin she could make you do anything just by smiling at you.
"Well I guess one more won't hurt. Hey mate can I get a lemonade please?"
Best to play it safe though. He'd be no good for practice tomorrow if he had a fuzzy head.
The girl waved her glass at the wizard behind the bar, gesturing for another drink also. When it came she fixed him with an imperious stare.
"Lemonade? Really, what do you do?"
Oliver was, for once, dumbstruck. She didn't know who he was. She didn't have a clue. Surely that wasn't right? He could name every player from every team in the league. And the reserves. Didn't she follow Quidditch?
"Uh Quidditch?", he made it sound like a question, hoping to jog her memory.
"Oh right. Do you coach?"
Unbelievable. Coach? Was she serious? It seemed like a genuine question. But still, 'did he coach?'. What sort of a question was that?
"No. I'm a keeper actually-"
"Oh really? Would I know the team?", she cut him off instantly. "Let me guess. Pride of Portree?"
Ok now there was no way she was serious. The Prides? What planet was this witch on?
"No Puddlemere."
She was beginning to annoy him now. Pride of Portree? Get a grip.
Her face lit up. "You're not Rob Jenkins are you?"
His face however, fell. Dear Merlin what was wrong with her? Rob was at least ten years older than him. And he played Chaser not Keeper. Anyone knew that.
"No I'm Oliver."
She looked at him blankly.
"Oliver Wood. You know, the captain?"
Her face didn't light up again. Well if that's not a kick in the teeth, I don't know what is thought Oliver.
"Oh right. Yes I think I've heard of you."
Nope, he thought, that's the kick in the teeth. After all his hard work. How could she not know him?
"Well I'm Kate by the way."
"Right well. It was nice talking to you Kate. But I should probably go. I've got practice tomorrow."
"It was nice to meet you too. I hope to see you again soon."
Not bloody likely, he began to think, but quickly changed his mind when she smiled once more. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad next time?
Kate couldn't help but grin to herself as he walked out. Oliver Wood was hot. And he was going to be hers, one way or another. Oh Ayla was going to be so jealous!
A seasonal gift for my three faithful readers, who make the writer's block almost seem worthwhile! xx
