A/N—Sections have been pulled from HP:TSS for accuracy, parts have been adjusted for continuity. Please see disclaimer.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, neither do I seek to reap financial benefits from this piece of fiction. I am in a very, very weird and heavy place with my feelings about "She-who-owns-it." Trans rights are human rights. Full stop.
-the story-
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!" Oliver cursed as he dashed up the steps to the castle entrance. "Why th' absolute fuck did I do that? I'm such an idiot!" He continued on his hurried mission to Gryffindor Tower, though he did not enter. He stood outside in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Password? Dear?" The Fat Lady asked, peering down at the hysterical boy with a mild look of amusement.
He sighed. He wasn't about to have an all out meltdown in the middle of the corridor. "...Kneazle."
The portrait swung open to reveal the passage to the Gryffindor common room. Oliver silently made his way to his dormitory, eyes ahead. Neither looking, nor speaking to anyone.
Sarra stared at the retreating figure of Oliver. She watched as he neared the steps to the main entrance. She watched as he climbed them. She watched as he opened the large wooden door. She watched as he stepped inside and the door closed behind him.
'What just happened?!' She raised a hand to her lips. Had Oliver just kissed her?! Why did this make her nervous? She had wanted him to, right?
Numbly, and dazedly she pulled herself up from the bench and walked to the edge of the lake, and stared at the squid, who every so often would bob up to the surface and wave a tentacle at her. She asked the squid, "Why did he do that?"
The squid slapped at the surface of the water, sending geese flying, honking off into the air.
"I mean… we hadn't even discussed anything romantic, or done anything that could have been considered a date or anything…. But it's not like I didn't like it."
The squid splashed again.
"Actually, it was quite nice, though I wish I could have been a little more prepared for it. I would have enjoyed it more. Argh! Why are boys so difficult!" She paused, and sighed. "I must look like a complete loony. You are a good listener though. What's the time?" She looked down at her watch. '11:00' "The Defense extra-curricular meeting isn't until one. I suppose I could go finish up this assignment that Amanda and I were working on earlier." Sarra laughed. "I might finish an essay on my own for once!" She tossed the squid the remaining portion of the bacon sandwich that she had and made her way towards the castle.
"Why?! Why did I do it? Why did I kiss her?" Oliver threw his arms up in frustration. "We had nae talked about dating, had nae gone on a date, had nae done anything remotely romantic… And there I went, being a complete doaty arse, and kissed her! Awww. She probably thinks I'm a right wanker, now."
"Who's that, mate?" Simon Dedworth's presence in the room surprised Oliver. He had thought that all of his dorm mates had gone on to Hogsmeade this morning.
"Mim's teats, Simon! I thought you were going t' Hogsmeade with Percy and Mervyn!" Oliver stood at the foot of his bed clutching his chest.
"Aww. Nah, mate. You see, Perce and Merv said they was going to spend all day at Tomes 'n Scrolls to do some research or study or someat. You know me, I'm not in for all that swotty stuff. Plus, Nancy said she was wanting to run around with her mates. Bugger that, amiright? No bloke wants to be dragged along while a bunch of girls go faffing about!"
"Aye, there's nae a lad who likes that." Oliver sat down on his bed and began rearranging the contents of his bookbag.
"So! Who's this bird ya went and snogged, eh?"
Oliver was in the middle of taking his Potions textbook out of his bag when he froze. 'What do I say?! I cannae very well tell him that it was Sarra! She's a rival quidditch player! And a Slytherin at that!'
"I bet it was that Slytherin one you've been skulking about with." Simon winked and wagged his finger at Oliver. "Don't think I ain't been seeing you sneaking off together!"
Oliver's eyes nearly fell out of his head, "You've what?! You've seen? Ohhh…Jayzus Christ!" He dropped his book, and buried his face in his hands, groaning.
"Hah!" Simon jumped up. "I knew it! I was just guessing! Whooo!"
Oliver grabbed Simon by the front of his shirt, and shook him as he pleaded, "You cannae tell anyone! Please! I'm serious! You cannae say anything!"
"Alright, mate! Alright! I was just taking the piss!" Simon removed Oliver's hand from where they had been fisted into his shirt. "Merlin… But, there is a girl? Well? C'mon! What's her name, then?"
Oliver looked sideways at his friend. Could he tell Simon who she is? He already joked about and discovered her being in Slytherin. Should he say? "I'd rather not say… At least right now." He bent down to pick up his Potions book. Remembering that before he had loused up their morning, he had asked Sarra for help on his Potions essay.
"I have tae go and finish some school work. Potions essay. See ye." He quickly picked up his bookbag and left Simon in the room.
'That is if she can still bear to be within fifty feet of me.'
"Argh! I just can't understand why we can't find any information on this Nicholas Flamel person!" Ron said, exasperatedly rummaging around the box of sweets his mum had sent him and Harry, while the latter contemplated his next move in the tenth game of chess since returning from their meeting with Hagrid that morning.
Hermione shrugged, "I don't understand it either. I know I've seen his name before in one of my books, but I can't remember which one or where. Plus I've been trying to stay up on all of our assignments" She was scrawling away writing the last ten inches of the Potions essay that was due Monday, that neither boy had started yet.
"Yeah. I've read it somewhere too. "Harry reached into the box and pulled out a chocolate frog. He heard the portrait hole open, and he looked up to watch Oliver Wood very stoically head to his room. Harry shook his head of the concern, and busied himself with opening the frog. Popping it into his mouth he looked down at the included wizard card.
"Dumbledore again," he said, "He was the first one I ever-" He gasped. He stared at the back of the card, then looked up at Ron and Hermione. "I've found him!" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before! I read it on the train coming here! This is it! Listen! 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!"
Hermione jumped to her feet. "Oh! Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to her room in the girls' dormitories. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous book in her arms. Plopping down into her seat, she started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself.
At last she found what she was looking for. "Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!"
This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.
"The what?" said Ron. Harry stared at her blankly.
"Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look - read that, there." She pushed the book toward them, and Harry and Ron read:
"The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)."
"See?" said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"
"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."
The trio fell into even lower whispers, though Harry noticed when Oliver descended the stairs to the boys' dormitories and exited the common room.
The library was eerily silent. Sarra supposed that most of the upperclassmen had gone to Hogsmeade, and the firsties and second year students were all probably at lunch. 'This is perfect,' she thought. 'I can write my Potions essay in peace.' She took out her materials, and was thumbing through her book to find the right page. She remembered that Oliver had asked her to help him on the essay that morning. 'I do so wish he hadn't run off like that. It was so nice.'
Her rumination was interrupted when she heard a throat being cleared.
"Oh. I… I shouldn't have come here. This was a mistake. I'll findae different table. Sorry."
She looked up to see Oliver, blush on his face, turning away from her to leave.
"What? No! Stay, we can work on the essay together." Sarra had in an instant made the decision to act as if nothing had happened. 'That's the way it worked right? If you don't talk about a thing, then the thing never happened? Right?' She did enjoy being his friend, 'And if he thinks he made a mistake earlier, then I'll just pretend that I wasn't bothered. I'll ignore it.'
Oliver stopped and stiffly turned around. He seemed to be weighing his options. Stay or go. Stay or go. He awkwardly sat down, as Sarra shifted her belongings to the side to make room for him.
"Yea, ok, yes. The essay. Potions essay. 'How to brew a Strengthening Solution.' Right. Yes." Merlin's beard he was being weird.
"… Yes. That one. Anyway, like I said earlier the cleverest way to write this, is to just to copy the procedures from the book. I've done it for all the essays this year and have yet to receive any bad marks. In fact, I have the highest grade in our double class with Ravenclaw. I mean, I am out scoring Julia What's-her-face!" Sarra didn't like how forced the false mirth had sounded as the words came out of her mouth. Her throat felt dry, and her hands were sweaty. Why was she nervous around Oliver, now? Had she always talked this much around him? Why isn't he saying anything? 'No, No. Don't panic. You said you were going to ignore it.' "So, I guess that's a little Potions Pro-Tip from me to you…" She glanced off to the side, picking up her quill she started writing where she had left off that morning.
Moments passed at snail's pace, in silence. The only sound that could be heard was the scritch-scratching of their quills on parchment. Sarra tried her best to keep thoughts about Oliver's lips on hers away. This proved to be quite difficult given his proximity.
'I mean, he is just right here. Right here. No! Ignore it. Ignore it! But… I wonder what he would do if I-" Sarra moved her knee to tap against Oliver's. He didn't retreat, but he did continue to stare intently on the textbook open in front of them. Perhaps he gripped his quill a little tighter.
'Something else then…' She stretched her leg out in front of her, making sure to keep contact with Oliver's shin the entire way. She looked up at him. She saw the way his jaw was set, the stiff way he held his back straight. She saw the grip with which he held his quill. 'Most definitely gripping it tighter.' His knuckles were white, his other hand balled into a similarly tight fist.
"I'm sorry." Oliver's voice was raspy and low, sounding forced through clenched teeth.
"What?" Sarra looked at him. She really looked at him. She noted how his eyes were brown touched with honey here and there. His hair was similarly colored. The lighter strands caught the flame of the lamps and blazed brilliantly. He was beautiful. He had more than a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Though she had no reason to believe it, she assumed he had freckles on his shoulders too. This thought made her blush.
Oliver met her gaze, "I'm sorry that I did that this morning."
Sarra drew her eyebrows together, "Sorry? Why?"
"I just sortae sprang it on ye. No forewarning or nothing. Tha' tis nae how a gentleman behaves." Sarra would have sworn that Oliver drew himself up a little higher after the last remark. She giggled.
"Oh! Are fifteen year old boys gentlemen, now?" Her laugh grew more hearty, enticing Oliver to chuckle too.
"What? Proffering my handkerchief, asking tae carry yer books, escorting ye back from the pitch." Oliver grinned.
"Aye, you are a right proper gent." Sarra put on her best Scots accent and rolled her eyes.
Oliver's grin grew wide, "Tha' were nae half bad!" He laughed and that caused Sarra to giggle. Before long they were both full on laughing. Tears ran down Sarra's cheeks.
"Oh!" She said, between gasping breaths. "We best hush before Madam Pince comes and-"
"Asks you to leave?" The stern and severely-visaged witch seemed to come out of nowhere. "I suggest you gather your belongings and relocate to a more… lively location. Five points from each of your houses for being disruptive to this pristine learning environment."
The pair sputtered trying to hold back more laughter. They did however gather their things and leave. Oliver hiding his two fingers from Pince's view, caused Sarra's laughter to spill forth in a burst of belly laughs.
The sound of the library doors closing sobered them up some. Oliver's smile sagged.
"I'm really an' truly sorry about this morning. I shouldn't have done it." He looked Sarra directly in the eye this time as he apologized.
Sarra continued to smile, "There is nothing to be sorry about." She looked away and mumbled.
"I'm sorry what was tha'? Oliver leaned in, trying to hear her.
She mumbled again.
"I cannae hear y-"
Sarra reached a hand up and grabbed a fistful of Oliver's shirt, quickly pulling him down to meet her lips. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, holding her to his chest. He wanted nothing more than for that moment to last forever, but it was over as fast as it had started.
"I said, 'Besides, I'd like to do it again'!"
And for the third time that day in as many hours, they shared a kiss.
"It is all arranged, m-my lord. Harry Potter will be within our grasp!"
Good. I feel my strength growing every moment. Once Potter is finished I will be able to be reborn! Quirrell! Hadn't we better make our way there?
"Yes, my lord. At once"
Quirrell straightened his turban, picked his wand up off of his side table, and cautiously (though confidently) to the Great Hall, to ready for the day's "extra-curricular" event.
- end -
A/N - Golly! Trying to write while teaching and taking care of two babies is rough! Anyway! I hope this was enjoyable for you! Please leave me a review to let me know how you are getting on with this fic!
Best of luck to all of you! Stay safe! K M Rose