Disclaimer: I waited and waited but J.K. didn't hand over the rights to Harry Potter for my birthday.
A/N: Hey. Sorry. Couldn't really be helped for the most part. I was a little busy turning twenty-one. The all-mighty cliffhanger is finally resolved. The first part of this chapter is a flashback to what happened in the hotel room, then we jump forward to the day after Angelina had actually just read the letter. Confused? Don't worry, so am I. I should have thought it through better.
This chapter's for my new friends Meike, Alica, Katharina, Tash, Grace, and my 100th reviewer, Libeku Taganashi. Also, thanks for all the birthday emails and messages, guys. They meant a lot to me.
Chapter Three
No, the blues are because you're getting fat or maybe it's been raining too long. You're sad, that's all. But the mean reds are horrible. You're afraid and you sweat like hell, but you don't know what you're afraid of. Except something bad is going to happen, only you don't know what it is. Breakfast At Tiffany's, Truman Capote.
Oliver pushed open the door to his hotel room. "Well, this is it. It's not much."
"Are you kidding? It's three times bigger than my room."
Oliver ushered her out of the doorway and flicked the light switch on. Alicia screwed up her eyes at the unwelcomed brightness.
"Can't you light some candles or something?"
Oliver flicked the switch back off, then on again, staring rapturously at the light bulb the entire time. "Why use candles when I can flick a switch and give us light?"
Alicia pulled him away from the switch after quickly flipping it off. "I can flick my wand and give us light. Candles will make things a little more intimate."
"Intimate?" Oliver echoed uncertainly.
"Yeah. Romantic even." Alicia looked up at him in the darkness. She could just identify the outline of his lips. She reached up and traced this outline with the tip of her index finger. "That's why I'm here. We can marvel at the ingenuity of Muggle technology anytime."
Oliver took hold of her hand gently. "Leesh, I agreed to bring you here because you said you didn't want to be alone. I'm trying to be a good friend."
"Do you like being alone, Oliver?" Alicia asked, walking away from him to inspect some of the paintings adorning the walls by her wand light.
"What?" Oliver asked, dumbfounded that their conversation had taken such a sharp turn. Talking to Alicia could sometimes be like taking a ride on a hexed broom.
"Do you like being here when your family and friends are on the other side of the world?"
"I'm friends with the team, you know. It's not like I have no one," he said, following the glow of her wand as she walked around the room.
Alicia began to conjure candelabras and place them on tabletops. "But realistically your life's back in Scotland. That's your home. That's where you were born and it's where you grew up. How do you walk away from it so easily?"
"You think it's been easy for me?"
"You seem to be well-adjusted to your new life. I can't foresee a time when I won't be lonely and frightened," she replied, her voice thickening.
"I've been at it longer than you. It might take a while, but you'll get the hang of it. It'll probably take you longer because you're used to being surrounded by people." Oliver began to follow her around and light the candles. The timbre of his voice shifted slightly. "You've got sisters and a large group of friends. I'm an only child so I've had a lot of practice being alone. Even at Hogwarts I spent a lot of time on my own."
Alicia had noticed the change in his voice. She placed the last candelabra on the coffee table and sat down on the comfortable sofa. "So you're alone out of choice?"
"Choice? Where's the choice, Alicia?" Oliver asked roughly, almost knocking over the candles he was lighting. "I'd like to have had siblings, but that was entirely left up to my parents. At Hogwarts I didn't have much of a choice either. As soon as I started showing interest in Quidditch, I became the Quidditch-nut. You know how isolating it is to be pigeon-holed like that?"
"Yes," she said softly.
"Well, it was always just me and my Quidditch plays. Did anyone really bother to try to make friends with me? No, because they thought Quidditch was my entire existence. The twins teased me a lot, but they never bothered to invite me to any of their snowball fights or impromptu parties."
"Would you really have joined in?"
"Yes." Oliver's smile in the low light was sombre. "I hated you six for what you had. I'd have taken any opportunity to get into it."
"You should have said something," Alicia said hoarsely. Thinking about how people had treated Oliver made her throat tighten.
"You were different though." Oliver sat down beside her. "At least you tried to get to know me. I think that's why I fell for you."
Alicia looked down at her hands, feeling oddly uncomfortable for a moment. "Oliver, were you ever in love with me?"
"Love?"
"Yes." She looked up at him slowly. He seemed slightly confused. For a second she watched the candlelight flicker in his eyes. His deep brown eyes. The dark opposite to George's blue-green.
"Honestly, I don't know. I mean, I don't think I was. I just have nothing else to compare it to. Did you love me?"
Alicia shrugged a shoulder. "I probably thought I did at the time, but then…"
"George?" Oliver supplied flatly.
"I'm not saying I didn't love you in some way," she explained hastily. "All I mean is that my feelings for George were different. Deeper. Even now it's different. I've been thinking about you quite a bit lately. You've been right on the surface of my heart. I thought that meant I loved you and not George. I didn't realise what had really happened to me."
Oliver looked like he didn't want to hear anymore. Alicia shook her head quickly. "Wait. I realised that even when I wasn't thinking about George he was with me. When we separated I took a piece of him with me. It's always sitting in the pit of my stomach like a rock. I don't always think about it, but it's always there. He's always there."
"Then what are we doing here?"
She took his hand and squeezed it. "This could be our second chance. Why else would fate have thrown us back together like this?"
"I wondered about it, too. It could be some sort of test of your feelings for George. Have you thought of it that way?"
Alicia frowned as she considered things from this new angle. "You mean you're being dangled in front of me like a carrot, and if I bite then I lose George?"
Oliver nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. I think that's why we've been thrown together. We can't do anything because you'd lose any chance of getting George back."
"What makes you think I want him back?" she asked rather snappishly.
His brow furrowed in confusion. It definitely felt like he was riding a hexed broom. "Er, weren't you just saying something about George being a part of you?"
"Yes, but I wish I could get him out of my system once and for all. I don't like that horrible feeling in the bottom of my stomach. I want to be free of it."
"I don't understand," Oliver admitted, a little exasperated.
"He said and did some things to me that I can't forget so easily."
"Like what?"
"The night we broke up things just got a little heated. The day he told me he was leaving was even worse. He was so…cold and mean. He'd never been so horrible to me."
"I refuse to believe George would deliberately hurt you."
"Oh, think again," Alicia said with a bitter laugh. "The thing about George and I is that we really know how to hurt each other. What happened with the break up wasn't my fault! I didn't mean for things to turn out so badly. George was deliberately nasty. He knows things about me that no one else knows. He used those things against me. I retaliated and ended up making him hate me even more. He started it."
"What are you trying to say?" Oliver asked cautiously. "Are you telling me you don't love him anymore?"
Alicia rubbed her hands over her face as she tried to answer the question she'd been asking herself for a week. "I really don't know. I miss him, I miss seeing him. I want my best friend back, but I don't know about anything else. I walked out of it with a broken heart as well. Can you even love someone who broke your heart?"
"George loved you even after he found out you were seeing me."
"What if it's something else?" Alicia suddenly sat up straighter. "What if I only fell for George because you weren't around? Have you thought about that? Maybe we're both here because we're meant to be together."
"You sure you're not drunk?" Oliver asked, sidling away from her slightly.
"I'm fine. What if George was a re-bound guy, hmm? You can't deny that I probably wouldn't have ended up with him if you and I hadn't broken up."
"You aren't making sense."
She sighed in defeat. "I'm just trying to make this easier. You don't seem very comfortable."
"Of course I'm not comfortable. You seem to have got all these odd ideas about us in your head. I don't think you're being rational."
"Were you thinking rationally when you slept with those women? Why would you want to be with some strangers? What could your rationale possibly be?"
Oliver's eyes widened so much that he began to resemble a deer caught in headlights. "I thought you didn't care about that. You said earlier that it was fine. You can't change your mind now and get angry at me."
"I'm not angry," Alicia assured him, forcing a smile. "I just want to know why them and not me? Is something wrong with me?"
"There's nothing wrong with you. In fact, everything's right about you. You're too…"
"Plain?" Alicia supplied. "Boring? Unattractive? Annoying?"
"Why would you think that?"
"You and George seem content to look at me from afar. You don't want me in the way that men are supposed to want women. The fact that we're alone up here and talking shows a lot. Did you talk much to the women shagged? I bet you didn't."
"You're really young," Oliver said shakily.
Alicia gave him a sharp look. "Age has nothing to do with it. Angelina and Katie aren't virgins. What about me? I don't want to be left behind."
"It's not a race," he said gently.
"They share this mutual understanding now and I'm left in the dark. I can't participate in their conversations without sounding stupid and God knows when it'll happen to me."
"You're looking at it the wrong way. I could sleep with you right now but I guarantee you'd live to regret it. Imagine how it'd ruin your reconciliation with George. Let him be your first. That's how it's meant to be."
"George isn't here," Alicia said through tightly gritted teeth. "We're here. There's got to be a reason."
"Alicia, I just can't be-"
"I'm not asking you to marry me. I just want human contact. I want the kind of contact that makes you feel wanted. I want to feel like a woman," she said, her voice cracking as her emotions took over. "Oliver, if we do this, you and I will be linked forever. It'll be an even deeper link than the one I have with George. You and I will have shared a moment that nobody can take away from us. Sydney will always be our place."
Oliver shook his head, looking terribly conflicted. "You don't know what you're asking for. If we do this everything will change forever."
"I know. I can't survive alone. I need someone to reach out to me. I need at least one person to take the time to show me that I'm not just Alicia-the-prefect or Alicia-the-Chaser." Tears began to slide down her cheeks and she looked away, embarrassed by what she was asking for. "I'm sorry."
"It's ok."
"I'll go. I've made enough of a fool out of myself." Alicia stood up to leave, but to her surprise Oliver grabbed her hand.
"Wait. Don't leave." He stood up and took her other hand. "This could end up getting me into a lot of trouble, but I want you to stay. If you stay here with me tonight, neither of us will be lonely anymore. That's what you want, right?"
Alicia nodded slightly, her heart racing. It was going to happen. She didn't know what to feel anymore. No amount of preparation would have made it any easier. She was asking for a lot from him, but she hadn't really considered what she was also giving away. It probably would be over for her and George if she slept with Oliver.
"Just relax," Oliver said, his voice calm and softly reassuring.
"I am relaxed," Alicia replied hoarsely.
"You're cutting off the circulation to my fingers."
She dropped his hands abruptly and looked down at the ground. "I'm a little scared," she admitted.
He seized her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. "Are you absolutely sure about this?"
"Please…"
"All right, I'm going to kiss you. Just relax. It'll be like old times. Nothing to worry about."
Alicia closed her eyes and leant forward till her lips met Oliver's. Her last proper kiss had been at Hogwarts with George. Only a few days later she was kissing Oliver Wood in a Sydney hotel room. The sharp turn her life had taken made Alicia wonder if there would ever be a chance to go backwards, a chance to take things back and make everything right.
Alicia slowly draped her arms around Oliver's neck and buried her fingers in his hair. It didn't matter what was going on in England. All the mattered was that she was with Oliver. He was right there and he was warm and solid and he tasted like alcohol. Alicia groaned and pressed herself against him. If she held him tight enough she might become a part of him then she'd never be alone again.
But was she truly alone? This thought flashed through her mind as her mouth opened willing for Oliver. If she carried a piece of George around with her everyday, could she truly be considered to be alone? Was she just being greedy by taking Oliver as well? Surely she couldn't have both at once.
Oliver untangled himself from her briefly. "Last chance, Licia."
She answered him by pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it aside. "I know what I'm doing."
"If you say so."
"I'm an adult," she said tersely.
"I never said you weren't."
"Then stop treating me like a little girl." She grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it up over his head. "I can make my own decisions and deal with the consequences without anyone else interfering."
"Stubborn," was all Oliver said as he seized her again.
As they kissed, Alicia began to walk backwards, her hand reaching blindly so she wouldn't crash into anything. Oliver gently steered her in the direction of the bedroom. When the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, he let her fall back ungracefully.
"That wasn't very nice, " Alicia said, swiping her hair out of her face and struggling to sit up.
"I can't believe we're going to do this," Oliver said.
"Don't you think it's been a long time coming?"
"I didn't think anything like this would ever happen between us."
Alicia rose up onto her knees so that she could kiss him again. It had been so long since she'd properly kissed someone like this. Not to mention the fact that Oliver always had been a wonderful kisser. She had always got the feeling that he was running through Quidditch plays in his head, which made him a slow, dreamy kisser. Not at all like George. His mind was entirely on the job. He always made sure to move with the give and take and not try to force things. He'd also paid attention to her body because he realised kissing involved more than just mouths.
Why was she thinking about George? Oliver began to kiss her neck and Alicia blinked rapidly into the darkness of the bedroom. Oliver Wood was kissing her neck and she was thinking about someone on the other side of the world who had broken her heart. Someone who she had once offered her virginity to. He didn't want it. He didn't want her.
Then why could she not get his image out of her mind? In the doorway, she could picture George watching, shaking his head in disgust. She had to be hallucinating. Perhaps she was drunker than she thought. That had to be it.
Oliver's lips trailed back up to her face and he kissed her cheeks…her wet cheeks. He pulled back immediately. "Oh God, what is it? What's wrong?"
Alicia didn't want to say it. She didn't need to say it anyway. What else could it be? She threw her arms around him as more tears began to slide down her cheeks.
"It'll be all right."
"I'm sorry. I just can't," she sobbed.
He tightened his grip on her and she buried her face in his neck. "It's fine. Please stop crying. You know I can't handle crying."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop apologising. You haven't done anything wrong."
"I'm a bad person. No wonder George and the others are glad to be rid of me."
"Don't talk like that. Things might seem bad now but you need to give it more time. You'll see, everything will turn out for the better," he said bracingly, wondering absently if he was even saying the right thing.
"I should get back to my hotel," Alicia muttered, trying to gather herself together.
"You're not going anywhere. Stay here tonight and I'll take the sofa."
"You'd really let me stay?"
Oliver gently untangled himself from her. "There's no reason for you to be alone when I'm around. Go wash your face and I'll wait here for you."
Alicia sniffed and lowered her eyes shamefully. Without saying anything she slipped past him and ran back out into the hall. Still crying, she found the bathroom and gratefully ducked inside. She flicked on the light switch and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Nothing felt right to her anymore. She didn't know where she belonged or whom she belonged with.
She was drifting.
"Alicia?" Oliver opened the door and stuck his head inside. "I thought you might like to put your top back on."
With a bright red face, Alicia took her shirt off him and slipped it over her head as quickly as she could. "Are you angry at me?" she asked.
"Of course not. I had a feeling you would back out. That's just not the sort of person you are. You need to stop trying to be something you're not."
"And what am I exactly? A journalist? A girl? A woman? A loner? What am I going to become?"
"You can be whatever you want to be. What do you want most in the world?"
Alicia straightened up slightly at that question. "I always wanted to be a journalist. It's just about the only thing I've wanted to do since I was fourteen."
"Then you're truly living your dream," Oliver concluded. "Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position?"
"You're right. This is my dream. How can anyone ask me to give it up?" Alicia said, her voice becoming stronger with every word. Her hands clenched into fists. "I never asked George to give up his joke shop, did I? I knew that was what he had always wanted. No one cared about what I wanted. George didn't care that I was being handed a once in a lifetime opportunity."
"But there are other journalism jobs in the world. There must even be some in England."
"You think I should go back?" she asked incredulously. "You think I should throw all this away for someone who doesn't even want me?"
Oliver put his hand on her shoulder to subdue her. "It's late and we're both tired. Why don't we get some sleep and talk in the morning?"
"Will you sleep in your bed with me?" Alicia asked. "I promise I'll behave myself this time. No more promiscuity."
"Whatever will make you happy. That's all I ever wanted, you know. That's why the whole break up and the thing with George happened. You were happier with him."
"We were incredibly happy for a time," she agreed. "I don't know what happened, but something shifted below the surface. I think I realised the depths of my feelings for him and panicked. It's frightening to feel so strongly about another human being. It can't be normal. It's passion and pain all rolled into one super-heated coil of emotion."
Oliver grinned at her. "Alcohol makes you poetic, hmm?"
"Poetic and sleepy," she said, stifling a yawn.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Yes. I just can't believe we almost…you know."
"It would never have gone that far. You're meant to be with George and we both know it. He's back in England waiting for you."
Alicia splashed a little water on her face. As she dried off she said, "Sometimes I'd give anything to go back to him. Occasionally I even feel as if I'd give up this job to be with him again."
"At the moment you're just homesick. It'll pass soon enough, but until then you can come to me with any troubles you have. I'm no George Weasley, but I can do my best."
"Thank you for everything, Oliver," Alicia said, resting her hand on his forearm. "Let's go to bed."
xxxxx
"It's totally immoral," Katie protested.
"Hardly."
"It's definitely an invasion of privacy."
"It's his fault for not telling us. We have a right to know," Angelina insisted, rubbing vigorously at the lenses of her Omnioculars.
"It's George's life. What right could we possibly have?"
"If he's dating another woman we need to know. We need to tell Alicia."
"Why? What's she going to do? Drop everything and grab the next Portkey to England? Fat chance," Katie snorted. "She's already proven that nothing is going to tear her away from the Prophet. Besides, George has every right to see other women."
"You're just saying that because you're pissed off at Alicia. You want to know who he's seeing as much as I do."
Katie lifted her chin a little. "I only wanted to know because I was worried about George. He hasn't had the best track record with women and I'd hate to see him get hurt again. His welfare is all I'm interested in."
Angelina nodded crisply. "That's exactly why we need to follow him tonight. We need to make sure the woman he's seeing isn't too crazy."
"Too crazy?"
"Yeah, you've gotta be a little loopy to date a Weasley twin in the first place."
"I still don't feel good about spying on George. He's an adult in case you haven't noticed."
"He's also male. Men have a habit of thinking with body parts that aren't their brains. If George has got himself messed up with some tart, we'll have to help him," Angelina said.
"So the reconnaissance mission has become a rescue mission?" Katie asked with a sigh. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult?"
"Do you own black face paint?" she asked casually.
"No. Why?"
"We'll need camouflage if we're to pull this off. Do you own a balaclava?"
Katie groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead. "Oh God. This can only end badly."
"It'll be fine. I don't look it, but I can be very stealthy," Angelina said as she tied her hair up in a high ponytail.
"What about me? You may be as graceful as a gazelle but I stomp around like an elephant. If George finds out, he's going to be furious. I doubt Fred will be any happier about it."
"Fred? It was his suggestion! He's even more worried because George won't tell him anything. Fred's been all scorned and sulky lately. I can't stand it anymore so I agreed to follow George."
"And you roped me into it for what reason?" Katie asked.
Angelina just smiled beatifically. "Two sets of eyes are better than one."
"And you need a fall girl in case we get caught."
"Exactly. Let's get ready. George should be leaving in a few minutes."
Knowing there was no chance of escape, Katie pulled up the hood on her jacket. "So we're clear that I think this is a bad idea?"
"Yep."
Katie cringed at the look on Angelina's face. It was the same look she got before a Quidditch game. She was enjoying this prospective spying mission too much. She needed a hobby.
"Have you found a local Quidditch team to play for yet?"
"Still trying to find the best one," Angelina answered, leading Katie out of her bedroom. "I'll probably just end up playing for London for the convenience. They even have a women's team."
"That'll be good. It'll get you out from under Fred and George's feet a little."
"Yeah. I love living with them but things are already getting a little strained. They constantly accuse me of spending too long in the shower every morning. Then, when I suggest that Fred join me to save time, George gets all huffy."
Katie's button nose crinkled in disgust. "I know where he's coming from."
Angelina rolled her eyes. She looped her Omnioculars around her neck and zipped up her jacket. Fred was sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet when they entered the kitchen.
"Is Alicia's interview with Oliver in there?" Angelina asked.
Fred shook his head. "I doubt it will even make the paper. Alicia and Oliver are two of the most intensely boring people in the world. The interview would put the Prophet readership to sleep."
Angelina tweaked his ear. "Keep your mouth shut for once."
"Sorry, love. Forgot that you're the only one who still likes Spinnet." Fred ducked as she swiped at him. "Are you ready to go? George will be out of the shower soon."
"I can't believe you're actually encouraging us to spy on your twin brother," Katie said.
"Well, he won't tell me who he's seeing so I have no other choice."
"Here's a novel thought: you could mind your own business."
Fred shrugged. "I could but that'd be no fun. Besides, if George is unwilling to tell me about her then it makes me think that there's something wrong with her. It could be Isabel."
"Only if George is a masochist."
"What if it's someone like Hermione Granger?"
"Lavender Brown," Angelina said, making a horrified face.
"Professor McGonagall," Fred added. The girls could only stared at him. "Hey, it was just a thought. He might like older women."
"You're gross," Katie said firmly.
"We better go." Angelina ducked down to kiss him on the cheek. "Will you wait up for me?"
"Of course. Happy stalking, baby."
"Thanks," she said, running her fingers through his hair.
Katie shook her head. "You two are incredibly odd."
Angelina blew Fred one last kiss then grabbed Katie by the arm dragged her to the door just as the shower turned off in the bathroom. They crept down the stairs and made their way carefully through the dark store. There were a few people still wandering around Diagon Alley at that hour. Some looked a little shady.
"We're going to get kidnapped and sold into slavery," Katie whispered, clutching Angelina's arm for dear life.
"Don't be ridiculous. We'll be given to rich old men as wives before we become slaves."
"Thanks. That's great. Can we go home?"
Angelina shrugged her away and walked off. "Stop complaining. George isn't going to go anywhere dangerous."
"I could be at home relaxing and kissing Lee." Katie trotted after her determined friend as she headed towards The Leaky Cauldron. "Did you hear what I said? I'm missing out on snogging time with my boyfriend. He'll find someone else to kiss if I'm not careful."
"Look, we know that Alicia didn't shag Oliver, so we have an obligation to make sure George doesn't sleep with anyone."
"An obligation to who? Alicia? George certainly isn't going to appreciate us butting in."
Angelina didn't answer. She was doing it for the sake of both of them. Since the engagement party debacle, she was the only who still seemed to care about Alicia's well being. She was the only one who wrote her letters, the only one who expressed genuine concern. Everyone else seemed content to sit back and watch her flounder.
"We're not butting in. We're just going to find out who this mystery woman is and politely tell her to keep her dirty hands off George. Simple enough?"
"Sounds like an astoundingly bad idea," Katie said with mock cheerfulness.
Angelina quickened her stride till she reached the Cauldron. Once inside, she slipped through the meagre crowd and settled at a table in a dark corner. Katie joined her, scowling as old men looked her up and down. She pulled her hood further over her face and sat down with a humph.
"Want something to drink?" Angelina asked.
"Not from here. I'd probably go blind."
"Well, cheer up, sunshine." Angelina suddenly slouched forward in her seat. "The Hippogriff has landed."
"What?"
"The target has been sighted."
"You mean George?" Katie frowned and turned to look around.
"Shh. Don't look. You're making it obvious."
"I'm wearing a hooded jacket indoors at nine o'clock at night and you have a pair of Omnioculars hanging around your neck. We already look like escapees from a mental asylum," Katie said darkly.
"Good. That'll be our cover story if anyone asks. My name's Francine and yours can be Bertha."
"I don't want to be Bertha. My name's Katie and I like it. I also like being sane."
"We could pretend to be Russian contortionists," Angelina suggested seriously.
"I can't speak Russian and I can barely touch my toes on the best of days."
"Ooh, we could be Italian Quidditch players on holiday trying to get-" Angelina half jumped out of her seat. "Oh crap. Where'd George go?"
"You lost him already?" Katie asked, barely resisting the urge to smirk. "Good job, Francine. Can we go home now?"
"No. Wait. Yeah. There he is at the bar. Tom is getting him a drink. He must be meeting what's-her-name here."
"We just sit here and wait?"
Angelina grinned and dug around in her pocket. "Not at all. Extendable Ears," she said as she whipped a pair out with a flourish. "Isn't it poignant that something George created is going to be used against him?"
"How are we going to get the receiving end of the Ears to specifically go to George?" Katie asked. "We don't want to end up listening to two drunk old men."
"Leave that up to me."
Katie watched in horrified amusement as Angelina crawled on her hands and knees in the direction of the bar. Somehow, she managed to do it without any of the patrons spotting her. If they had seen her they probably would have thought she was just a hallucination anyway. When Angelina got back to the table she was beaming.
"Do you think I could become a spy?" she asked. "I could seduce secrets out of the Death Eaters."
"Yeah, I'm sure Fred would love that idea. You should stick to Quidditch for now."
"What about a private investigator? That could be fun."
Katie wryly shook her head a little. "Whilst you're chatting away, George is talking to Tom."
"Oh. Right." Angelina sheepishly handed over one of the earpieces and put on her most serious business face.
What they heard through the Extendable Ears made them realise they were in for an uphill battle.
"But then he says he don't know nothing about wine, right. I couldn't believe it! He made the whole thing up to impress me," Tom was saying.
"He obviously really wanted a job," George replied.
"Yeah but I ain't got no need for someone who knows a bunch about wine. Can't even remember the last time anybody ordered it."
"You never know, Greta might order some tonight," George said.
Angelina and Katie exchanged a glance. Who the hell was Greta?
Tom cleared his throat loudly and both girls jumped. "Ah, so that's who you're meeting. You've been seeing a lot of Greta lately."
"Well, she's an amazing woman."
"And a damn fine looking one if you don't mind me saying so."
"Not all. She's very pretty."
"So the two of you are getting along well?" Tom asked.
"Very well. We'll probably seal the deal tonight."
Angelina gasped. "That means sex," she hissed.
"Ssh," Katie ordered, waving her hand vaguely.
"Make sure you do right by her," Tom cautioned as he re-filled George's glass.
"I will," George assured him.
Tom moved off to serve another customer. The girls sat in stunned silence for a moment. "Greta," Angelina repeated slowly.
"She sounds French. Why can't they stick to their own men?" Katie said bitterly.
"Greta isn't a French name. It sounds German."
"Probably Swedish."
"It doesn't matter where she's from," Angelina said firmly. "She can't have him. She'd ruin everything. Alicia didn't sleep with Oliver for a reason. I think the reason's sitting over there at the bar."
"So George can't date anyone until Alicia decides she'll come back. He has to put his life on hold till she's ready?" Katie asked scornfully.
"Of course it'll sound bad if you put it like that. All we need to do is make George realise that Alicia is his one and only."
"Good luck with that because I won't be getting involved."
Angelina sighed. "Alicia explained about the engagement party thing. It's not her fault."
"You wouldn't say that if it was your party that was being ruined," Katie sulked.
"Nothing's been ruined. You're a drama queen."
"I am not. You're delusional if you think you can keep George away from women. Weasley boys are irresistible by nature. You of all people should know that."
Angelina nodded willingly, but added, "I also know that Weasley boys aren't for the faint hearted. It took Alicia a long time to get used to George. Some woman could just come prancing in thinking she can handle him, only to find him too intense. What then? George gets his heart broken again. He needs someone who knows him properly and understands him."
"Why don't you date him then," Katie muttered darkly
Angelina narrowed her eyes and prepared to say something biting. She was interrupted by Tom, who said, "Greta's here, m'boy. She's over by the door looking for you."
Angelina and Katie both looked towards the door, turning so quickly that they almost got whiplash. Greta stood on her toes and spotted George at the bar. She smiled and waved.
"Whoa," Katie said under her breath.
xxxxx
Writing.
It's not hard. You put letters together to make words, which then makes sentences. A few sentences strung together makes paragraphs and a couple of paragraphs will make up a page.
But the letters have to be put in a special order. That's not hard. That's just spelling. The trouble is knowing which words go where. To be or not to be. It seems easy when Shakespeare does it. Pick a word and put it in a sentence. But which word to pick? The one with the least syllables? The one that sounds the prettiest? The one that makes the most sense?
There are more words in the English language than there are stars in the sky. How can you hope to pick the one in a million word? The one that makes the sentence writhe and pulsate like an artery.
You have to be blessed.
Alicia groaned and dropped her quill on the parchment. She obviously didn't have it. Some people could write and some couldn't. As she had recently discovered, she belonged to the latter group. Her parchment was as barren as her mind. All of her notes about Oliver were spread out before her, but pulling them together into a feature article was proving to be the difficult part.
Perhaps the task she had set herself was too ambitious. After spending that night with Oliver, she had decided that her article was going to make him seem human. She wasn't going to focus on Quidditch stats or boring stuff like his favourite colour. She wanted to go deeper. Right down to the bottom, if possible. The interview had turned out great. Oliver had been very comfortable and open.
In fact, Alicia had been initially guilty about using their friendship to wheedle personal information out of him. It felt suspiciously like the manipulation she used to use on people with astounding ease. She'd made the interview feel more like a friendly, private conversation than an interrogation. Oliver hadn't bothered to censor himself, and some of the things he said were quite explosive.
Alicia shuffled around some parchments in search of one particular comment Oliver had made.
'The world of professional Quidditch is a dirty place. I've seen and heard things that would make your toes curl. It's so cutthroat that no one is really friends with anyone else. It's a hollow, sterile place when you get right to the top. Everyone's paranoid and wary. The worst part is that they have every right to be paranoid. If you don't keep an eye out, you'll be stabbed in the back before you can say Wronski Feint.'
A comment like that would get Oliver into a lot of trouble. It was just the sort of thing the press was looking to get a hold of. They'd press him for names and they wouldn't stop till they got something incriminating. Oliver would be fired, or reprimanded at the very least. He'd definitely have to watch his back.
That wasn't even the most shocking thing he'd said.
'Oh yeah. You definitely wear a big target when you get to the big leagues. Most people don't even look past the uniform. I've had women throw themselves at me even when they don't know my name or what position I play. I've been cornered in locker rooms, followed in the streets, women show up at my house. There are actually women who repeatedly sleep with Quidditch players then sell their story. It's like a profession to them. I can't fault them very much though. There are men who will still sleep with women they know are only after fame and money. The names I could give you would blow your mind.'
Oliver would be more than fired if that quote was leaked. Alicia had only been a journalist for a few days and she was already being faced with an ethically dubious situation. Not only was it a matter of ruining someone's life, she'd be ruining a friend's life. There was no way she could do it.
Alicia took up her quill again and began to write the only way she knew how.
xxxxx
"That can't be Greta," Angelina said. "There's no way."
"George is waving her over," Katie said incredulously. "That comment Fred made about McGonagall was meant to be a joke, right?"
"To be fair, she doesn't look as old as McGonagall. Probably only sixty."
"Oh, only sixty. Well, that makes it normal."
"Shh. Listen."
"It's wonderful to see you again, Greta," George was saying. "You look as beautiful as ever."
"You young people just don't know when to stop with the lies, do ya?" Greta said, real affection coming through in her voice.
"No hint of a lie at all. Why, Tom here was just talking about how beautiful you are."
"I ain't done nothin' o' the sort, ma'am," Tom insisted, clearly embarrassed. "Not that you ain't beautiful, o' course. I heard other people say, I mean. Ain't none of my business how you look."
George laughed softly as Tom scurried off to the other end of the bar. "You know, I think he might fancy you."
"Tom? Oh no, dear. I've been coming here for two years and he's never mentioned it. I'd have noticed something like that."
"Perhaps you should look a little harder. I'd hate to see this drag out for years. I've been in Tom's place and it's not the comfiest position to be in," George said soberly.
"That's enough, boy. Stop trying to sweet talk me. We're here to do business, aren't we?"
"Certainly. Have you considered the offer?"
"Yes I have. I thought about it long and hard and I reckon I'll never find anything better. Not much work going around for witches my age. I'd be crazy to pass this up."
"I brought the contract. You'll sign it tonight?"
"Don't you need your brother to be here for this?" Greta asked.
George slid a piece of parchment towards the old woman. "Don't worry about him. I'm the brains of the operation. He just stands around and looks pretty. Will you sign?"
"Just stick a quill in my hand and show me where."
"Excellent. Just sign on that line and initial on the other and we'll have ourselves a deal."
"So I make a batch of canary creams a week, right?" Greta asked as she scribbled on the parchment.
"And a batch of each Skiving Snackbox every fortnight."
"That sounds doable."
George seized the woman's hand and shook it vigorously. "My brother and I look forward to doing business with you."
Greta chuckled. "You and that brother of yours are lethal. I suspect you'd charm the pants off any woman you met."
"But I don't want any other woman in the world, my darling" George teased.
"Lout," Greta said, whacking him on the arm. "I'm going to talk to Tom. Perhaps there's some truth behind what you said earlier."
"Go easy on him. His heart probably isn't what it used to be. Too much excitement could do him in."
Greta whacked him once more then left in search of Tom. Angelina and Katie both removed their earpieces. They were simultaneously relieved, confused, curious and tired.
"What just happened?" Angelina finally asked.
"We just witnessed a business deal. Mind you, it was barely visible through all that sex that was going on."
"Shut up."
"I can totally see why we need to protect George's virtue from a woman who's old enough to be his grandmother. He clearly wants her," Katie said, full of annoyed sarcasm.
"Again, shut up." Angelina rubbed her hands over her face. "We dodged a hex there. If he's been seeing the old bird then he probably hasn't had the time to charm the pants off anyone."
"You think so?"
"I think we're pretty safe."
"Hurrah. I'll finally be able to sleep well tonight."
Angelina scowled. "I hope you choke on that sarcasm, Bell."
She just rolled her eyes in boredom. "Can we go home now?"
"I think we ought to wait around for a bit to see what he does. He might go meet a-"
"Excuse me, ladies?"
The pair looked up at the waitress who had approached their table. Without saying anything further she placed two glasses of alcohol in front of them.
"Er, we didn't order any drinks," Angelina said.
"They're from the gentleman who was sitting at the bar."
"Was?" Katie looked up to where George had been sitting. The stool was empty. "He left and we didn't even notice. We're the worst spies ever."
"He told me to give you the drinks and this," the waitress said, holding out a folded napkin.
Angelina snatched it from her and opened it. Katie leant over to read it.
You two stick out like sore thumbs in a place like this. Go home to Fred and Lee. You can all meet my girlfriend tomorrow night.
"Girlfriend!" Angelina immediately shrieked, drawing the attention of everyone in the pub.
Katie looked up at her friend and whispered, "Uh oh."
xxxxx
The next day, Angelina was in a mood. George wouldn't tell her who his 'girlfriend' was and she had to work the entire day because the boys were conducting interviews. Katie came in to help for a few hours but Angelina found her to be more of a hindrance.
"Get off the counter, Katie. This is a professional place of business." The second the words left her mouth there was a popping noise. A large canary was standing in the middle of the store. She sighed and went to usher the distressed person/bird out of the store. "Have a nice day, sir – er, ma'am?"
"You're absolutely right. I can see how my sitting on the counter would reflect badly upon the professional integrity of this place," Katie said.
Angelina ungently shoved her off. "I seem to remember you being a lot nicer at Hogwarts. Were you just saving up all your sarcasm for now?"
"I was all starry-eyed back then. Now I'm unemployed and being supported by my boyfriend."
"Has Lee said something to you about it?" Angelina asked, already half on the offensive.
"He's too good about the whole thing. He says I don't need to contribute anything to the flat and living expenses if I can't manage it. He doesn't understand that I hate sitting around uselessly."
"Well, I'll make sure the boys pay you for today. That'll help for now and soon you'll be working and training at St Mungo's. You'll be making as much as Lee before you know it."
Katie bit her lip convulsively and tapped her nails on the counter. She looked up at Angelina with watery blue eyes. "But what if I don't get high enough marks? What will I do then? I'm not particularly good at anything. I'll end up waitressing at the Cauldron."
Angelina squeezed her hand reassuringly "You will not. You're going to be a nurse. The best nurse there ever was in the entire world. Just wait and see."
Katie sighed forlornly and put her head on Angelina's waiting shoulder. "It'd be easier if Lee weren't so nice about it. He won't even let me do all the cooking and cleaning to make up for the lack of financial help. He says that it's enough just to have me around. He says he's willing to pay for everything as long as he gets to look at me everyday."
"That's it. I hate him."
Katie couldn't help but giggle. "I know. The arse tells me I'm beautiful everyday. How is a girl supposed to stand that?"
"I hate men who are considerate, patient, caring, and respectful," Angelina said. "That's why I'm with Fred."
"I heard that, Angel."
The girls turned around to see Fred and George coming downstairs from their lunchbreak. Fred waved his half eaten sandwich at her menacingly. "Keep that talk up and you'll be living on the streets, missy. Remember who's the boss around here."
"The boss, hmm? If the boss isn't careful he'll find himself sleeping on the sofa for a week."
"As if you can bear to be away from me for that long." Fred tried to kiss her but she turned away.
"Ick. I hate apricot jam. Get away."
Fred kept trying to kiss her as she giggled and twisted around to avoid him. He eventually pinned her against the counter and placed wet kisses all over her face and neck. Angelina quickly forgot her apricot jam hatred and kissed him on the mouth.
Katie cringed. "Do you have a sheet or something that we could throw over them? They'll scare off customers."
"In my experience they'll stop sooner if you just ignore them," George said. "We've got half an hour till our next interview so you girls can go up and have lunch."
Angelina suddenly pulled away, making Fred groan in disappointment. "Lunch sounds good right about now. See you boys later."
"I'll let you have the rest of my sandwich if you stay," Fred offered.
"You know if I weren't so hungry I'd stay. I wouldn't even need the yucky sandwich as an incentive."
"It's always comforting to know that your girlfriend will spend time with you without having to be bribed with food," George said.
Angelina pounced immediately. "What about your girlfriend? Does she accept bribery?"
George smiled serenely. "The shelves look a little untidy. I better give them a quick clean."
"Your brother's infuriating," Angelina hissed as he disappeared down an aisle. "Did you get anything out of him?"
"Nope," Fred answered. "All he said was that we'd all meet her at dinner. Oh, he did mention that she's a vegetarian. You can't cook meat tonight."
"A vegetarian?" Katie echoed. "That's interesting."
"Do we even know any vegetarians?"
"My sister's a vegetarian," Angelina said thoughtfully.
"You think George is dating your sister?"
"God I hope not. I was actually thinking that she might know some other vegetarians here in London."
"I don't think they're all networked," Fred pointed out.
"You know how gay people can spot other gay people in the street? Maybe it's like that. Vegetarians might be able to sense each other," Angelina said insistently.
"But gay people often look gay. Vegetarians look like everyone else."
"Vegetarians don't look like everyone else. They look like people who don't eat meat."
Katie ducked between the couple and paused at the bottom of the stairs. "All right. Your conversation has officially gone to an odd place. I'm going upstairs before I feel the urge to join in."
Katie disappeared and Fred asked, "Sure you don't want to stay down here?"
"I'd love to stay. That's why I better go now." Angelina kissed him quickly on the cheek and followed in her friend's footsteps.
Upstairs, they set about making themselves sandwiches out of what ever they could find lying around.
"Where's the Prophet, Ang? Lee mentioned there was supposed to be something in there about what's going on with You-Know-Who."
Angelina shoved some resumes out of the way and found the paper still rolled up. "Here you go. No one's opened it yet. I was too busy chasing George around the flat this morning."
"I still don't know if I can believe anything the Prophet prints anyway. I don't have a whole lot of faith in them after last time."
"Take it with a grain of salt. No matter what they say, we know it's bad. You just have to stand in a large crowd of people to know that everyone's terrified. I wish there was something we could do to help," Angelina said.
"Like what exactly?" Katie asked.
She shrugged. "Offer our services to Dumbledore or Harry. We were in the DA after all."
"That was kid's stuff." Katie flicked through the first few pages, looking for anything out of the ordinary. "There's nothing in here but the usual bogus sightings and useless warnings. There's a lot that isn't being said."
"Perhaps it shouldn't be said. Death Eaters might not be terribly bright, but I'm sure they can at least read a newspaper. Reporting everyone's movements wouldn't help our side much."
"I suppose you're right." Katie closed the paper and flipped it over. She almost choked.
"What?" Angelina demanded, trying to snatch the Prophet from her clenched hands.
"It's Alicia's interview with Oliver. It's in here. Page seventy three."
"Give it to me. Quick!"
"Don't pull! You'll rip it!"
"I read faster than you!"
"Don't! Ah! You broke it!" Katie squealed.
"You don't even like Alicia anymore," Angelina snapped, scanning the section that she'd managed to tear off. "Ha! I got the interview and you got the accompanying picture."
Katie folded her arms and pouted. "I officially hate you more than Alicia. You're un-invited to the engagement party."
Angelina ignored her sulky friend and began to read.
The first things you notice about Oliver Wood are his eyes. That's where he hides all his emotions. Well, most of them at least. When he talks about Quidditch he becomes incredibly animated. You don't need to look into his eyes to know he loves his game. When we begin to talk about his life I have to make sure to pay attention to his eyes.
He's been touted as the next big thing in the Quidditch. Not only is his image incredibly marketable, but he can actually play. It's not often that you get the two elements in one person. In this case, the person is endearingly oblivious to his public-friendly persona.
'I don't know why it happened,' he says, eyes darting around the room. 'I just wanted to play Quidditch. I understood I'd have to do publicity for the club and sponsors but I didn't realise that would involve interviews for magazines directed at teenage witches. I thought I'd be doing the rough and tumble sports magazines.'
Coming from anyone else it would sound crass, but Oliver Wood genuinely cannot comprehend his appeal. It's a naivety that speaks to women everyone. We just want to nurture him. It's probably this that originally attracted me to him. When I dated Oliver at Hogwarts, we were both fairly young and inexperienced. I was enamoured and he was just glad that someone was willing to spend time getting to know him properly.
'I didn't have many close friends at Hogwarts. It was partly my own fault for focussing so much on Quidditch. No one bothered to find out what was below the surface. Well, one or two people did.'
I know we're reaching touchy areas because his eyes are downcast. He looks at me every so often, as though to check I'm still there. He strikes me as someone looking for motherly praise. I ask him about his family.
'Well, I don't have any brothers or sisters so it's just me and my parents. My dad loves Quidditch and he's the main reason I'm here today. He took it upon himself to introduce me to the game as early as he could. I was about four years old when I remember my first match. My mother doesn't quite get Quidditch, but she plays along. She's a wonderful woman. A really classy lady, if you know what I mean. She tried to introduce me to art and books, but that stuff never took hold.'
I don't want to turn the interview into a therapy session so I leave the topic of his parents. I ask what everyone wants to know.
'Yes, I am single,' he laughs. 'Why do you ask? You aren't interested, are you?'
Alicia Spinnet, Junior Quidditch Correspondent, reporting from Sydney, Australia.
Part two of this interview will appear in next Wednesday's morning edition.
Angelina wordlessly handed the paper over to Katie. Her mind was still struggling to absorb what she had just read. Oliver and Alicia's Hogwarts romance was now very public. What effect was that going to have on anything? What effect would it have on George? Should she even show the article to him?
It wasn't really all that incriminating, she thought. Alicia was doing her job and Oliver was being himself. Nothing fishy was going on at all.
"Something's not right here," Katie said.
Her concentration broken, Angelina looked up at her. "What do you mean?"
"Why would Alicia want to bring up their relationship like that? It had nothing to do with the interview. It takes the focus away from Oliver, for a start. I don't think that's the point of interviewing a famous person. People don't read interviews to learn about the interviewer."
"Well, Alicia knows what she's doing and this managed to get published. I doubt the paper would run it if something was wrong with it. It could be some journalistic trick for all we know."
Katie nodded. "That's a good point. You'd like to think the editor knew what they were doing. If they think the article's good then it must be."
"It'll probably get the Prophet some extra publicity. Alicia will have to give them exclusive interviews and not talk to any other media. I wonder if she realises what she's got herself into," Angelina mused.
"A lot can be said about Alicia, but she certainly isn't stupid."
Angelina hid a smile. "That's an awfully nice thing to say about someone you supposedly hate."
"I can't hate her," Katie admitted. She grinned slyly. "If I lost her friendship I'd be stuck with you."
Angelina poked her tongue out.
Dinnertime approached slowly that day. Everything seemed to drag out and take twice as long. After Katie left, Angelina expected to be so busy that she wouldn't notice the time passing. Unfortunately, it was a slow day and customers only trickled in. Angelina found herself checking the clock every five minutes.
She was staring blankly at said clock when Fred and George emerged from their last interview of the day. George walked the applicant out of the store and shut and locked the door behind them. The noise roused Angelina.
"What?" she asked, looking bewildered.
Fred nudged her. "Time to close up, baby."
"Oh yeah. Right. I'll count the money."
"Let me do it. You look out of it."
"I'm not out of it," she said indignantly.
"You were staring at the clock, but you didn't realise what time it was. That's the very definition of out of it."
"Leave me alone. It's been a long day."
Fred gave her a handful of Knuts. "If you're fine then make yourself useful."
"Do you think this dinner will go well?" Angelina asked softly, as George walked around straightening shelves.
"Shh. I'm trying to count."
Angelina pouted and sullenly began to count the coins in her hand. George eventually came over to help count. He and Fred joked around and tried to mess up each others counting by shouting random numbers. As Angelina watched she realised she hadn't seen the two of them messing around like that in ages. Everyone seemed to be tense with everyone else. If George's mystery girlfriend was the cause of this sudden change, then it might not be so bad having her around.
Almost immediately, Angelina felt a twinge in her stomach. It was a feeling she had begun to associate with Alicia. Thoughts of her absent best friend still caused her physical pain. She wondered if there would ever be a time when she wouldn't automatically think about Alicia when she thought about George. One day she'd have to separate the two in her mind.
Perhaps George's new girlfriend would help her do this.
"Angelina!"
"Huh?"
"I asked you how many Knuts you had."
"Oh. I don't know. I lost count."
Fred groaned and took the money from her. George gave her a concerned look. "Are you feeling all right?"
"Yes."
"We don't have to go ahead with dinner if you're not up to it."
She shook her head vigorously. "I want to meet her."
George smiled. "She really wants to meet you guys as well. I'm sure you and Katie will get along really well with her. She's amazing."
"More amazing than Alicia?" she couldn't help but ask.
"Equally amazing," he replied without hesitation.
Angelina raised her eyebrows in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Before she could think of anything to say, George excused himself and went upstairs to get ready.
"He doesn't want us to mention Alicia tonight," Fred told her.
"I'll try not to."
"Don't try. Do it, Angelina."
She narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me what to do. I won't censor myself for the sake of a stranger."
"What about for George's sake?" Fred asked.
"He's a big boy. If he can't handle me talking about Alicia then we're going to have problems. I don't plan on forgetting she exists."
"For my sake?"
"I don't like you enough."
"Is that so?" Fred said. "In that case I don't suppose you'll mind if I hire Amber. The tall woman with the curly black hair we saw just after lunch? She doesn't know a thing about our products but she seemed to want to know a lot about my personal life. I'm sure I'd get along very well with her."
Angelina hit his arm half-heartedly. "Don't tease me like that."
"Will you behave yourself?"
"No Amber?"
"She was rather pretty…" he answered thoughtfully.
"Fred."
He threw his arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her face. "You worry too much."
"I can't help it. I'd die if someone took you away from me." Looking a little embarrassed, Angelina ducked away from him and rushed upstairs.
Fred stared after her, amazed that she could still surprise him like that after so many years.
By the time dinner rolled around Angelina wasn't the only one on edge. Everyone except George sat nervously in the living of the twins' flat. Every so often someone would look to the door.
"What's taking so long?" Katie asked.
"Relax. He's only been gone for five minutes," Fred said. "He says she lives nearby so we shouldn't have to wait much longer."
"We probably shouldn't crowd her or stare at her a lot," Lee advised.
"Don't ask too many personal questions either," Katie added.
Angelina frowned, pretending to think. "Would it be too personal if I ask her how many sexual partners she's had?"
"Amber," Fred warned quietly.
"Fine." She folded her arms and glanced at the door. "If they don't hurry up the food will get cold."
As if on cue, the door swung open. Everyone jumped up. Katie grabbed Lee's arm in a vice-like grip and Angelina had to stop herself from swearing. The woman George entered with was vaguely familiar…
George beamed and put his arm around the woman's waist. "Hi, everyone. You guys remember Amy, don't you? She works in the Magical Menagerie. I knocked her over that day in the store."
"You didn't knock me over, George."
"Oh that's right. I swept you off your feet."
Amy giggled and poked George in the ribs playfully. "I'd been swept away long before that." She paused and smiled prettily at the stunned quartet. "It's great to finally meet you all properly. George never stops talking about you. He makes it sound like you're a make-shift family."
"Yeah, Lee's the annoying step-kid nobody likes," Fred joked.
"Fred's the creepy uncle who gets drunk at Christmas and passes out beneath the tree," Lee retorted.
Amy giggled some more and allowed George to draw her into the flat. Everyone went over to shake her hand and welcome her. That is, everyone except Angelina.
She stood back and watched, her stomach a knotted lump.
A/N: Finally. A chapter that didn't end in a cliffhanger. I could have let you guess who his girlfriend was, but I figured it was too obvious. I'm sorry the chapter turned out to be so…bland. Next chapter will be out…someday. Probably this century, though I won't make any promises. I can't even tell you what'll be in it, as I haven't planned it yet. Probably not a good sign. Keep visiting the forum and feel free to friend me over at LJ or just email/PM me.