Disclaimer: I asked Santa to make me J. K. Rowling for Christmas. I guess we'll see if I've been naughty or nice.
The Sleeping Bag Incident:::
The lights had been turned out many minutes ago and I was still wide awake—and still next to Oliver. Imagine that. I wonder if he's mad at me. I'd be mad if I'd seen him kissing another girl.
God, this whole thing's caused more problems than it's fixed. Now I'm just deeply confused. You know, in some ways it's worse when you actually have a chance with a guy but nothing happens. I mean think about it. I've gone through the years thinking I had absolutely no chance with Oliver. That way, when he leaves at the end of the year it won't be such a let down. Now I'll forever be wondering if it could really happen between us.
Should I tell Oliver how I feel? That'd be awkward. Plus, isn't it a guy's job to make the first move? Call me old fashioned, but I think that he should take the initiative. Especially since he's my Quidditch captain. If I ask him out, it'd be like sexual harassment or something. Damn! Why is my life never self-explanatory?
"Katie, are you okay?" he asked from next to me.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I whispered back. And then I noticed that I was shivering. Why the hell am I shivering?
"You don't look fine." Thanks.
"I'm just a little freaked I guess," I admitted. Freaked and confused, that's about right.
"Here," he said, shrugging out of his jacket and handing it to me. I thanked him and pulled it on. Oh, sweet warmth. I had to physically restrain myself from pulling it up to my nose and smelling it.
It took me at least another hour to calm down enough to fall asleep. I was almost there when…
"Katie?" Oliver asked tentatively next to me, trying to see if I was awake.
"Hmm," I groaned. Why do people insist on interrupting my sleep? Don't they know that I can't form coherent sentences past like eleven?
"Are you and Fred—together?" he asked after a while. I groaned in response. It made sense in my head, I swear. Give me a break; it's like two in the morning.
"What?" he asked after a minute of silence. Pity he can't read my mind because I really don't feel like talking right now—not even to him.
"No we're not," I clarified.
"So that kiss was…?" he trailed off. He's so cute when he's jealous! Well, actually I wouldn't know because my back is to him and my eyes are closed, but he sounds cute… Did I really just say that?
"That kiss was just Fred being Fred," I said. Another minute of silence.
"Um, Katie. What does that mean?" I turned over to face him. Apparently I'm not going to get any sleep tonight.
"Oliver, what do you want me to say?" He stared at me hard for a few seconds and I didn't expect him to answer. But he did.
"I want you to say that you don't like him like that. Fred has a different girl in his bed every damn night. You don't deserve that. You don't deserve just being one of the many."
"I don't like him in that way and we haven't done anything but that one kiss—I swear." He visibly relaxed. "Oliver, why does it even matter?"
He shifted uncomfortably for a minute, but then his eyes found mine.
"Because I'm in love with you, Katie." I just kept staring at him, trying to figure out if I had heard right. Damn it, Bell, say something.
"Oliver I… "
"What don't you two understand about no talking," Percy Weasley interrupted, lowering his head between Oliver's and mine. "Across the hall, Wood—now!" Oliver rolled his eyes but moved anyway. He was probably happy to get away from me.
So sweet dreams. Yeah right.
OoO
The next few days flew past in a rush filled with rain. The weather was worse than I'd ever seen it at Hogwarts. My study sessions with Oliver had once again been put on hold. Whether this was due to the fact that I still hadn't said a word to him about us, or the fact that our first Quidditch match against Slytherin was drawing nearer, I don't know.
So why haven't I talked to Oliver? Yeah, that's a very good question and honestly I don't know. He likes me; it's been confirmed. So why the hell am I not making any moves to get together with him? Suddenly all of the doubts that I've been repressing have come to the surface.
He's a seventh year! That means he's leaving at the end of the year and there is a very good chance that he'll be moving away to play Quidditch in the god forsaken corners of the Earth. So where would that leave me? In my fifth year at Hogwarts, that's where. Do I really want that? Sure we could have a great year and I have no doubt that it would be the best year of my life, but what would happen after that? I don't think I could handle watching him walk away and knowing that I might not see him for years at a time.
On a different note, Harry's latest brush with death is presenting itself in the form of Sirius Black. Poor boy. Well, as long as he catches the snitch first… Madam Hooch is now overseeing all of our practices and I have no doubt that Oliver has pushed me to the back of his mind. Quidditch is his first love, hands down.
At our final practice before our first match I walked into the changing room to see a distraught Wood. I looked around and found that I was the only team member currently present. Great, I get to calm him down. I might like Oliver but calming him down before a match is next to impossible.
"Oliver," I said, coming up behind him, "I know you won't believe it but we really are ready for this match. We're going to kill Slytherin!"
"That's just the problem—Slytherin!" he shouted and then refused to say another word until the rest of the team arrived. Finally they did and we all sat, waiting for the verdict.
"We're not playing Slytherin! Flint's just been to see me," he started. "We're playing Hufflepuff instead."
"Why?" we all chorused.
"Flint's excuse is that their Seeker's arm's still injured, but it's obvious why their doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances…." The rumble of thunder sounded in the background—good timing.
"There's nothing wrong with Malfoy's arm!" Harry shouted. "He's faking it!"
"I know that, but we can't prove it," Wood said angrily. "And we've been practicing all those moves assuming that we're playing Slytherin and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their style's quite different. They've got a new captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory--," he cut off as Alicia, Angelina, and I giggled.
Giggling is not at all like me but I couldn't help it. Diggory is hot.
"What?" Oliver asked, frowning.
"He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" Angelina asked. As if she doesn't know every little detail about his life.
"Strong and silent," I agreed.
"He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together," Fred said impatiently, staring directly at me. Okay, odd… "I don't know why you're worried, Oliver," he continued, "Hufflepuff is a pushover. Last time we played them, Harry caught the snitch in about five minutes, remember?"
"We were playing in completely different conditions!" Oliver shouted. God, what is he so mad at? Oh, right. Me for not responding to his declaration of love, Flint for canceling the match, Diggory for being Diggory, me again for acknowledging that Diggory is pretty good at being Diggory, and Fred for staring at me like that. Why the hell is he doing that anyway? Oliver then went into a rant about Diggory which I didn't pay all that much attention to. If we don't win this cup, Oliver's probably going to commit suicide.
He dismissed us about five minutes later; must have forgotten that we haven't had practice yet…
"Oliver?" I asked hesitantly when everyone else had left.
"What?" he asked, turning to me. Have I ever mentioned his eyes? They're this perfect shade of—right, not the right time.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"No, not really." Short, sweet, and to the point.
"We can handle Hufflepuff," I assured him. "Harry's the best Seeker Gyffindor has ever seen and--"
"Katie, I really don't want to talk about this right now."
"Well, okay, but I really don't think that you need to stress out about this. You need to calm down or you're going to make everybody else nervous."
"You want me to calm down?" he asked stiffly, taking a step nearer. The anger had completely left his voice. Oh please God let me not be imagining this. He placed his hands on my waist and I began to feel all coherent thoughts slip away. "You're the only one who knows how to calm me down, Katie." True.
He pulled me closer and brushed a stray hair behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine. God, this is so much better than Fred. Our lips were only centimeters apart when the perfect moment was interrupted.
"Katie?!" a voice called from outside. Fred. Oliver closed his eyes in frustration but quickly recovered and pulled away from be before Fred barged in. I'm going to have to talk to him about his timing. "There you are," he said, locating me. "Come on; Ange, Alicia, Lee, George, and I are going to raid the kitchens."
I threw one last glance at Oliver and then followed Fred outside into the rain.
OoO
The day of our match against Hufflepuff dawned bright and sunny. Not. It's the worst day of the year so far! Slytherin's a load of wankers—smart wankers, but wankers nonetheless.
Wood didn't even bother giving us a pep talk when we arrived; there is no possible 'pep' in this weather. He just gestured us onto the field.
When I walked onto the pitch, I was almost knocked off of my feet by the power of the wind. Fred, who was behind me, grabbed my waist to keep me grounded. I faintly saw Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and I rose into the air. I just saw Angelina get the quaffle when the rain picked up and my visibility was diminished.
If the Quaffle came my way, I grabbed it and did my best to get it through a hoop. Who knows if I succeeded or not. I can't see a damn thing. I almost flew into another player about five times and I'm pretty sure George hit a bludger at me, thinking I was a member of the opposing team.
My favorite part, however, would have to be when one of the Hufflepuff chasers got confused and scored a goal for us. How sweet is that?
Oliver called a timeout about two hours into the game, though I have no idea what he said. I did notice a fork of lightning though. I'm going to die out here aren't I?
Shortly after we returned to the air I felt a shiver rock my body and I froze where I was (holding the quaffle, too). An intense cold I'd only experienced once before came over me and I knew without looking that there were a few extra guests at today's match. Dementors. Before that realization had fully penetrated my head, Madam Hooch's whistle was blowing as a silver figure issued across the field at the creatures.
The match is over? And then I got close enough to see it. Cedric Diggory clutching the snitch and Harry lying lifeless on the ground.
OoO
"Lucky the ground was so soft," George said staring down at Harry's unconscious form. We were still soaking wet and in our muddy uniforms. I was shivering but it didn't matter. As long as Harry's okay…Oliver's not here. I think he's too upset. Even I can't believe that we lost.
"I thought he was dead for sure," Fred said. Well, that's one way to think positive.
"But he didn't even break his glasses," I noted. Christ, he's the luckiest boy in the world.
"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life," Angelina said. I don't think I've ever seen her this solemn.
"Harry! How're you feeling?" Fred asked suddenly and I turned to find our Seeker awake. It's a miracle, I tell you.
"What happened?" he said, sitting up in a flash.
"You fell off," Fred continued. "Must've been—what—fifty feet?" It felt more like 2000…
"We thought you'd died," Alicia said, shaking.
"We didn't—lose?" Harry asked worriedly. Kid, you really need to sort out your priorities. You almost died! This is Oliver's fault.
"Diggory got the snitch just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square…even Wood admits it," George explained.
"Where is Wood?"
"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself." Committing suicide—just like I said he would. The boys then started talking about our chances at the Cup, but I wasn't listening. It came as a relief when Madam Pomfrey finally kicked us out. Then, without thinking, I headed straight to where I knew Oliver would still be—the showers.
I ran through the rain as fast as I could but I was once again soaking when I entered the Gryffindor changing rooms. The sound of a shower reached me from the boy's side and it was apparent that Oliver didn't plan on coming out any time soon.
The first thing I did was strip out of my wet Quidditch robes and change into a track suit that I keep in my locker. Much better. Sure, a shower would be nice but I'm cold and the rain's washed me off enough anyways. Plus, I think Oliver's more important right now.
I waited almost ten minutes, until I just didn't feel like waiting anymore. "Oliver Wood, get out here now," I cried, opening the door to the boy's showers. There was a loud thump and a muffled 'damn', then the water turned off. I shut the door and then went back and sat on the bench in the center of the room, waiting for him to come out. He finally emerged a few minutes later in jeans and a T-shirt. His hair was wet and he looked absolutely adorable.
"So," he said, not really making eye contact with me. Things have been so awkward between us lately and I honestly have no clue where we stand.
"So," I agreed.
"We lost," he said softly and I could tell just how depressed he was.
"It's not the end of the world, Oliver," I said encouragingly. "We can still win the Cup. As long as Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw."
"I don't want to talk about this right now." Silence.
"Harry's fine by the way," I said rather coldly.
"That's good. I'll go see him tomorrow. I think I owe him an apology." Smart Boy. "What are you doing here, Katie?" Now would be a perfect time to tell him how I feel, right? So why is that so much easier said than done?
"I honestly don't know," I said. And I really don't. I don't know why it's as if I'm magnetically attracted to him.
Ok, so I'm not really being fair am I? Oliver told me how he feels so I should do the same to him, right?
"Oliver?" I said warily. He just looked at me expectantly. Maybe he can read minds after all. "I like you too. I was too scared to say it before, but there it is. I like you."
"I shouldn't have told you like that, Katie," he said after a while and my heart fell. What is he getting at? "I like you Katie--a lot. But I don't know if I can be with you. Quidditch—I need to concentrate on Quidditch right now. Scouts are going to start coming to the games and I need to be in top shape. I've just got some thinking to do."
"Yeah, okay," I said. And as much as it hurt to hear him say that, I knew that it was for the best. I don't want to rush into a relationship that he's going to regret later.
And then for the first time since before Halloween, we talked. Really talked. Not about us, not about Quidditch, just talked. And when we finally left the changing rooms, the rain had stopped and night had fallen.
OoO
Don't get mad at me just yet. They get together soon, I promise. I don't know how long it'll take me to update again; the holidays are kind of busy. Hopefully, it won't take longer than a week. So, Happy Holidays, y'all.
Next time on Love and Quidditch
"Well then, what if I asked you?" I stood there stunned for several seconds. No way is Fred seriously asking me out. He's like my brother. Granted, a brother that can kiss very well, but still…
"What?" I said, barely louder than a whisper.
"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?" Oh-my-God! He's serious.