The Rules of Love

I apologize up front for the blandness. This was in fact one of the hardest, if not THE most difficult rule to correlate to the plotline. Within the next chapter or two it will hopefully smoothen out into the regular course of action.
Oh, the next chapter focuses on a central theme in the rules: jealousy. If anyone wants to guess who's jealous, you know what to do.

Bottoms up!

I. Marriage is no excuse for not loving.
It was in the bright, early afternoon that fourth-year Oliver Wood finally opened his bag and took out his Quidditch book. Alleged Quidditch book, that is. This tome, once opened, unearthed layers of dust, and he noticed the Latin and French words were not about Quaffles and goal hoops but of the power of love and effects. Disgusted, he threw it on the floor, and took out his notes. He couldn't be bothered with the antics of mushy, gushing pansy material. He was a Quidditch player. He had no time for marriage, he had to live.

At this thought, he leaped up, collected his broomstick and ran out the doorframe, tripping over the begrudged book as he went.

'OOMPH!'

Katie Bell was jarred out of her thoughts by knocking into and collapsing under something hard. When she finally blinked the stars out of her eyes, she noticed she was in fact covered by a body; one of an older boy holding a broomstick to her ear. He groaned into her other ear, blinked his eyes unsteadily open, and then groaned again, this time in alarm rather than pain or confusion. After staring into her eyes for a moment, he scampered up, whacking her head in the process with his broom. This was her turn to moan in pain. At this protrusion of his train of thought as well as his transfixed unblinking stare, the older student spoke.

"Err…are you…alright?"

He spoke slowly, almost unsurely, but he had a confident air to him. Katie herself was scared stiff.

Finally, however, Katie managed to force her jaw to move.

"Ugh…I'm fine." She didn't sound fine, however.

"Sorry. I wasn't minding my step."

Katie smiled at the sheepish-looking boy as he ruffled his hair and looked down at the item betwixt his fingers.

"S'alright. You play?" she questioned, pointing to where his eyes were transfixed. Oliver looped up and grinned.

"For the House team. I love it. You?"

"Recreationally. I'm too young to try out."

"Maybe next year then," he smiled again, and held out his hand to both help her up and to shake.

"Here. Oliver Wood, Keeper." Katie felt herself ripped up from the ground as soon as she accepted his hand. She flew up a bit before landing on her feet, still gripping his hand and shaking it.

"Katie Bell, would-be Chaser."

Their eyes locked, transfixed for many a moment, and interlocking force keeping them together. As the room grew warmer, Katie dropped her eyes, and consequently, her hand from his.

He cleared his gaze, nodded his head, and walked towards the portrait to exit. Katie watched him leave, signed, and climbed up the staircase to collect her History book and notes.

Oliver had only been flying his warm-up for a few minutes before the appearance of the two beaters of the Gryffindor team; second-year twins Fred and George Weasley, brothers to his roommate Percy and captain, Seeker Charlie.

Oliver had personally believed that the was the only reason those two troublemakers had joined, until he saw the uncontrollable force that they themselves were, much less when they whacked those bloody Bludgers around.

"Oi, Wood!"

"Aye?"

"Get down here!" one of the fire-haired scoundrels called, to which Oliver grudgedly complied; finding it pathetic to answer to the pair of short, crack-wit youngin's.

"What do you want?" he grumbled.

"Charlie wants an extra practice tonight at eight. We're working with the reserves today, so save your strength." Fred shouted this whilst smirking at George, who was the object of affection of reserve Chaser Alicia Spinnet. George, of course, groaned, but Oliver brightened at the news of extra Quidditch, and with fresh vict-er, players.

Katie was once again searching for that blasted medieval book, only this time she had plenty of time to search. Unfortunately, this time was wasted trying to remember the assignment. She finally admitted defeat, and went to search for the vulture, which proved easier than her initial search- Madam Pince was watching her a bit too closely.
She asked where she could find the text, only to be herded over to the librarian's list of currently borrowed books. After about three minutes of searching, Madam Pince showed the page of most recently checked out, the librarian's fine, knitted cursive indicating the book she so desired followed by a looped, thin scrawl indicating what she assumed to be the borrower's identification. Exasperated, she gave in, and thanked the vulture woman, who simply sniffed in response. Katie gathered her supplies and left the library in puzzlement.

'What boy would check this book out?' It was not required in the assignment, and she surmised it was no one she knew in her year, but the name seemed familiar, and fresh in her head.

'Oliver Wood…' she thought as she stepped through the portrait. 'Where do I know that name from?'

And with a sense of deja-vu, tripping over a discarded book, she felt heat rush to her head with the realization of just who had obtained the book she desired. So, stepping away from the fireplace, she hurried back out the grumbling portrait to her destination.

"Excuse me, er…" Katie trailed off, looking up expectantly to the wind-blown blond girl scurring before her.

"Alicia Spinnet," the girl supplied.

"Katie Bell. Can you tell me where Oliver Wood is?" she inquired.
The older girl pointed behind her, before being tackled by two red-headed rogues.

"Hey! First-year! What are you looking for Wood for?" the one who hadn't squashed Alicia questioned.

"George, get off me," Alicia demanded.

"I'm wondering if I could borrow a book from him," she muttered, fascinated as the bat-carrying twins scrambled up and helped out their comrade.

"Wood reads? But I thought he lived Quidditch."

"I think he's married to it."
"Mr. Quidditch. I wonder who wears the pants in that relationship?"
"Not him. He's a Scottish broom-rider. Definitely a Mrs. Quidditch." George proclaimed, as he, his brother, and their year-mate trudged off to the locker rooms.

"Er, Katie?"

"Oh, hi, Oliver. Er, I was wondering if I could borrow a book from you," she whispered, transfixed.

"Oh, sure. Quidditch Through the Ages?" he guessed, packing his equipment into his bag.

"Er, no. Actually, a library book you took out this morning- On Love?" He blinked. "Do you have it?

"Oh, that. It's in my room. Come on." He motioned for her to follow him through the door towards their destination.
"I only need it for a week, at most, I only-"

"You can keep it," he replied grimly, waiting for the stairs to change.

"Oh," she muttered. "Thanks. You don't need it?"

"I picked up the wrong book," he responded, stopping to say the password. "Not my cup of tea."

She nodded, climbing the staircase with him in mindless chatter. Upon entering the room, he walked towards his bed, but tripped over what he was indeed searching for. Katie, in suit, fell behind him, once again collapsing against each other. Oliver wrapped his arms around her and rolled her over, pulling her off in the process. He reached to his feet and grabbed up the book, and thrust it to her rising face. Stunned, she meekly took it, rose and stood awkwardly next to the door as he threw himself, his broom, and his bag onto his bed. She recalled what the twins had foretold before speaking once more.

"Oliver," she questioned, opening the door. "Why not?"

He glanced around briefly before replying.

"I'm a Quidditch guy."

Katie closed the door slowly, whispering.

"Marriage is no excuse for not loving."