-1Leaving the Potions Master behind, Gwen set off up the passageway from the dungeons with Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater. The cold clamminess encouraged her to pull her robes tighter around herself, and she was glad to see Oliver waiting at the end of the corridor. Since Colin Creevey was discovered petrified Saturday night, everyone was reluctant to be alone. Everyone but Oliver, who stood by himself. Seeing that Gwen was safe, Percy and Penelope bid her farewell and continued on to dinner.
"Why aren't you with someone?" Gwen asked heatedly.
"No one was coming this way," Oliver responded simply.
"But-" Gwen stopped herself, crossing her arms under her breasts and groaning in frustration.
"Well? I just wanted to get down here, and everyone else was going to the tower first. Oh, c'mon, I was only thinking of you." He stepped closer and placed a hand on her arm; she looked up at him with wide eyes.
"But what if-" she began, dropping her arms.
"Hey, I made it here safe and sound, didn't I?"
"That's not the-"
"Don't you remember what that Slytherin said that night? I'm not muggleborn, and neither are you."
"Then why were you so worried about getting to me?" Gwen asked.
He held her arms, gently rubbing them. "Because you were worried about being alone," he said quietly. Gwen looked down and away, hiding a smile. "There's my girl." He started to lean in for a kiss when someone appeared behind Gwen in a swirl of black robes.
"And what might two young Gryffindors be doing at the entrance to the dungeons when they should be getting ready for dinner?" Professor Snape moved his liquid black eyes from Gwen to Oliver. Does that man ever blink? "Well? Ten points from Gryffindor for dawdling," he drawled, then shooed the couple away before stalking toward the Great Hall. Gwen bit her tongue and turned to the grand staircase.
"Greasy git," Oliver muttered, and then rested a hand on her lower back to prod her forward. Gwen inhaled sharply and winced in pain; Oliver echoed. "Sorry, I forgot about those bruises. Don't look at me like that; the whole shower thing was your idea."
"Oliver! Keep it down! We are in the hallway, you know," she hissed. "Anyone could hear you."
He lowered his voice. "I'm just saying there's nothing wrong with lying down on a soft surface-"
"Oliver!" She glanced around nervously.
"And my knees nearly gave out toward the end-"
"Point taken!" Gwen quickly looked around again; Oliver fought a grin. "Now, if you don't shut up, we won't be doing anything anywhere for a while." He quickly closed his mouth with a click, making her smirk with satisfaction.
"So how was Potions?" he asked in a normal tone.
"Almost pleasant," she replied. "We studied love potions and Amortentia. It has a different scent to everyone. That Penelope Clearwater said it smelled like chocolate and roses, but I think that's complete rubbish."
"What did it smell like to you then?" Oliver inquired, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Oh... fresh cut grass, dirt, sweat, fresh air, broom polish..." she leaned toward him, taking a deep breath, "...and some other unique, underlying smell that I can't quite describe."
Looking straight ahead, Gwen's lips curved into a slight smile, and Oliver grinned like a fool.
Wending their way around clumps of terrified first years, Gwen and Oliver ran into Fred and George just as they reached the seventh floor.
"Terrible about that Colin Creevey, eh?" George said, glancing about at the younger students.
"At least Harry won't be half-blind all the time anymore. That kid always had his camera in Harry's face," Fred added.
"That's awful, Fred," Gwen admonished. "The poor boy is in the hospital wing, frozen like a statue, and here you are speaking ill of him."
"What did I say?" Fred asked. "I was merely speaking the truth."
Gwen rolled her eyes and entered the common room, quickly running up to her dorm to drop off her bag.
At dinner, Professor Dumbledore warned that it was best for everyone to remain in pairs and not wander off alone. Gwen shot Oliver an "I told you so" look, but he merely shrugged innocently in response.
"Typical that the first person Slytherin's monster attacks is a Gryffindor, and the very same day Gryffindor beats Slytherin at Quidditch," said Lee Jordan, a close friend of the Weasley twins. Everyone around agreed.
"Poor Ginny," Fred said, and Gwen looked down the table to where the youngest Weasley child sat next to Percy.
"She sat next to Colin in Charms," George explained. "We tried to cheer her up."
"But Perfect Prefect Percy got mad and threatened to write Mum to tell her Ginny was having nightmares," Fred added.
"Why, what were you doing?" Oliver asked dubiously.
"Er... covering ourselves with fur and boils and jumping out from behind statues."
"And that was supposed to cheer her up?" Gwen demanded. "I swear you two make me glad I'm an only child."
"Thanks," the twins beamed. Gwen shook her head and frowned at her plate.
Over the next week, a wave of trinket trading popped up under the teachers' noses. All sorts of amulets, talismans, and other worthless items that claimed to have protective powers were being bought and sold by all sorts of gullible students.
"I just don't see the point," Gwen said when Fred, George, and Oliver stepped into an empty classroom to take a look.
"Neither do we," the twins replied. "We just want to see what these idiots are so interested in."
"Yeah, I doubt if any of this stuff has any actual power," Oliver added.
"Ooh, this is pretty." Gwen picked up a clear crystal pendant with a black leather cord. "I could put it on a silver chain and it would look a lot nicer." Still inspecting the crystal, Gwen handed a few bronze Knuts to the Hufflepuff boy, waving off his silly explanation of its magical properties.
"Why did you buy that rubbish?" Oliver asked.
"Like I said, it's pretty." She handed him the necklace and turned her back to him, holding long wavy hair off her neck.
"It would look nicer on a silver chain," Oliver said thoughtfully while tying the cord.
In the third week of December, an advertisement for a Dueling Club was discovered on the notice board in the entrance hall.
"The first meeting is tonight," Oliver said, reading over the heads of younger students. "Wanna go?"
"I'm sure it will be good for something, but..." Gwen began, idly fumbling with the necklace she received nearly a year ago.
"But what?"
"But I don't think anyone will be able to duel with whatever has petrified Colin Creevey and Filch's cat," Gwen replied, and continued on her way to Charms.
"Maybe not," Oliver admitted, "but what about... what if someone attacks you?"
"That's what this is for." Gwen pulled the charm out from under her sweater.
"That doesn't make you bloody invincible," he hissed, mindful of the other students around. She rolled her eyes and replaced the faery pendant. "It can't hurt to go tonight."
"You can go if you want, but frankly I think it's a waste of my time." He fell quiet at her decision, bristling with silent anger.
By dinner that night, Oliver seemed to have calmed down. Outwardly, anyway. Still, he was oddly quiet throughout the meal.
"Are you sure you won't reconsider?" Oliver asked tersely for the umpteenth time.
"Yes, I'm quite sure," Gwen replied stiffly. She shifted in the overstuffed chair, gazing into the fire in the corner of the common room.
"You have twenty minutes to change your mind. Then, I am leaving whether you accompany me or not." His eyes bored into the back of her head.
"In that case, I'm afraid you'll be going alone." She plucked at lint on her robes, avoiding his eyes. Suddenly, the veil slammed into place between them, and her eyes widened as though he had struck her. She heard heavy footsteps moving away, then the sound of the portrait hole opening and closing. When she turned around, Oliver was gone. Gwen brooded in silence for a few minutes before going upstairs to retrieve her schoolbag.
Again throwing herself into an armchair, Gwen pulled out parchment, a quill, and... She frantically searched her bag. In her argument with Oliver, she completely forgot to go to the library for the book on human Transfiguration. Looking around for someone to accompany her, she spotted only a few first years, too afraid to leave Gryffindor Tower unless necessary, and Nearly Headless Nick.
"Sir Nicholas," she called to get his attention. "Would you mind accompanying me to the library? I forgot to go after dinner."
"Certainly, Miss Pennington," he replied with a careful bow.
"Fantastic. Hang on." She grabbed her wand and bag and led the way out to the seventh floor corridor.
"I don't mean to pry..." the ghost began.
"Yes?"
"It's just that I couldn't help overhearing your lover's spat with young Mr. Wood."
"Oh, that." Gwen wrinkled her nose while he floated along beside her, patiently awaiting her elaboration. "He wanted me to go to the Dueling Club with him, but I told him I didn't think it was necessary because..." Her hand absently went to her throat, fishing out the faery pendant on its long chain. "My grandmother gave me this last New Year's Eve. Ten minutes later I found out she had died and I was talking to her ghost." A sad smile crossed her lips at the memory.
"Fascinating," he murmured after she explained the necklace's properties to him. "As for Oliver, he is reacting as would any young man in love. He fears for your safety."
"Then why-?"
"Allow me to explain," Sir Nicholas interrupted. "Most men respond to fear with anger. And your stubbornness frustrates him, which only exacerbates the situation."
Gwen pondered this revelation in silence the rest of the way to the library. Throwing Madam Pince a friendly smile, she settled at a desk in the Transfiguration section.
"I just need to check some facts for my human Transfiguration essay," Gwen whispered to Nearly Headless Nick.
"Would you like me to stay and return with you?" he replied, just as quietly.
"Yes, please. Perhaps you can give me further insight on the inner workings of the male mind."
Gwen's work took longer than expected, and Madam Pince warned her that it was getting late. It was only eight thirty, meaning she had been there about an hour. Gwen and Sir Nicholas were nearly up to the seventh floor corridor when they heard a loud crash.
"Peeves!" the Gryffindor ghost muttered. "I'm sorry, Miss Pennington, but I really should go after him. We're only one floor down, I'm sure you'll be all right."
"Yes, I'll be fine," she assured him. "Thank you."
"Any time, madam." He turned away from her before shouting, "Peeves! I'm going to see the Bloody Baron!" And with that, he zoomed toward the source of the noise.
Alone, Gwen walked up the flight of stairs, but stopped upon seeing the Fat Lady. Maybe I should go meet Oliver, she thought. It's only a few floors, right? I'll be fine. Leaving her bag against the wall, Gwen held her wand firmly at her side and headed down to the Great Hall.
While walking down the third floor corridor, Gwen argued with herself over whether or not she should be out alone. If Oliver is upset that I didn't go to the meeting, he definitely won't like this. Maybe I should go back. He'll never know. Gwen was so deep in thought that she didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her. When she turned around to head back to Gryffindor Tower, she only had a split-second to register Marcus Flint's face before he shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!" Completely caught off guard, Gwen had no chance to protect herself. The curse stiffened her body and she fell flat on her back with a thud.
"You shouldn't have humiliated me in front of my team," Flint hissed, leaning over her.
Though her body was frozen, Gwen's mind raced, frantically trying to think of a way out. She quickly realized there was nothing she could do, and truly began to panic. Flint was still speaking above her.
"Pretty little thing, aren't you? I suppose that's why Wood keeps you around. You must be good for a shag every now and then, eh? Maybe I should drag you into this classroom and show you what shame feels like, you filthy little whore."
Gwen was screaming inside, desperately trying to reach out for Oliver, hoping he could hear her. Suddenly, Flint was struck by a red beam and thrown against the far wall, but Gwen couldn't turn or lift her head to see anything. With the Slytherin out of sight, and in pain if the groans coming from her left were any indication, she tried to calm down. She realized the curse had been lifted, and none other than Oliver helped her stand on shaky legs. His face flushed with anger, eyes darting from Gwen to Flint, who had started to move. Oliver raised his wand, but Gwen grabbed his arm.
"Oliver, no!"
"What?" he exclaimed in disbelief.
"Not now. Someone's bound to be on the way, and I don't want you to get in trouble. Come on!" She started dragging him away just before the sound of footsteps approached. They broke into a run, holding their pace until they reached the next floor.
"What were you thinking, wandering alone? And after you kept chastising me for doing that very thing!" he said harshly. "And now look what's happened!"
"Sir Nicholas went to the library with me, and I decided to go meet you when I was done. But then I thought you'd be angry so I was heading back when Flint attacked me out of nowhere," she explained quickly.
"Where was Sir Nicholas then?" he demanded angrily.
"He went after Peeves."
"And why the hell did you stop me from going after Flint? I had every right to! Instead you made me run away!" He took a firmer grip on her arm, practically dragging her along.
Gwen suddenly realized that the veil had been lifted, and noticed that Sir Nicholas was right. Underneath his external anger, Oliver concealed a strong sense of fear, so much Gwen could hardly believe he wasn't shaking as much as she was.
"And Flint!" his tirade continued. "What did he say? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you? I'll kill him for this!"
This line of questioning caused various images to flash in Gwen's mind, both of Flint and of Michael, her last boyfriend.
"My God, Gwen!" Oliver stopped short on the sixth floor. "You're white as a sheet!" He placed his hands on either side of her face, looking into her eyes before hugging her. "I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been yelling at you like that. I was just so... scared," he finished, barely above a whisper.
When he finally released her, Gwen dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. "Can we talk about it in the morning? I'd like to just go to bed," she said quietly.
"Of course, of course," he answered.
On the next floor, Oliver picked up her bag. Not stopping in the common room, he took Gwen straight to his dorm. Before she could ask questions, he pulled an undershirt and a pair of pajama pants out of his trunk.
"You're sleeping in here tonight," he said in a tone that discouraged argument, handing Gwen the clothes.
"But what about Percy?" she asked worriedly.
"I don't give a damn what Percy says. Prat," he muttered. He pointed to the bed and closed the curtains around her, waiting outside until she changed. Gwen handed him her pile of neatly folded clothes, which he set on his trunk next to her school bag.
True to form, Percy waltzed into the dorm room just as she opened the curtain, wearing Oliver's pajamas.
"Gwen!" he exclaimed. "Oliver, what is she doing in here?"
"She's sleeping here," Oliver answered firmly.
"Oh, no she isn't! I warned you last time. This time I'll have to write you up," Percy said imperiously, straightening his posture.
"Don't do it, Percy," Oliver growled.
Gwen scrambled to the edge of the bed, grabbing Oliver's arm once she noticed his hand balling into a fist. "Please, Percy," she pleaded.
"And why shouldn't I?" Percy asked.
"Do you really want to find out?" Oliver answered in a dangerous tone.
"Oh, is that a threat, Wood?"
Gwen practically jumped off the bed to stand between them, her back against Oliver's chest. "Percy, I promise we'll be on our best behavior. I just need to sleep in here tonight."
"This doesn't have anything to do with Marcus Flint, does it?" Percy asked suspiciously.
"He was found in the third floor corridor, lying on the floor. He wouldn't say what happened, but his side seemed to be bruised."
"Keep your nose out of other people's business," Oliver warned.
"As House Prefect, it is my business if you were involved."
"Then let's say I wasn't. I'm going to bed." Oliver turned back to the bed, closing the curtains around it. When he climbed into bed, Gwen rested her head on his chest, listening to the rapid pounding of his beating heart. It slowed as he settled down, stroking Gwen's hair. Eventually, his heartbeat lulled her to sleep; Oliver, however, lay awake for some time.