Happy New Year:::
I don't know if I've mentioned this before but I absolutely hate shopping. It somehow manages to combine my fears for salespeople, large bows, and shrilly girls all together in one event that never ends. Pure torture, I'm telling you.
And you know what's worse than shopping alone? Shopping with Leanne. Apparently, she attends the Wood's party every year and has agreed to help me pick out a dress—one that I will never wear again. The things we do for love…
Oh, and guess who Leanne's going with? Cullen! We totally swapped guys. Strange.
"Katie, come on," Leanne groans as we search through the third store today. "This dress is gorgeous!"
"It's got a bow on the back." I argue.
"Ugh! You're impossible!"
"No I'm not; I'm just not going to wear anything that looks too girly."
"Honey, we're looking for dresses. They all look girly!"
"Ugh!" I groan. It's been four hours since we started. I'm never going to get to go home am I?
"Ugh!" she groans right back. Needless to say, we're not making too much progress.
"Ok, let's just calm down," Leanne says for about the tenth time. "What color would you be comfortable wearing?"
"Not pink."
"Okay then, what about red? Red would look good on you."
"No way! The Wigtown Wanderers are red. I'm a harpies fan—I can't wear red."
"What does clothing have to do with Quidditch?"
"What about dark green—the Harpies are dark green?" I ask happily, thinking I've finally found a workable possibility.
"I'm wearing dark green!" Leanne moans.
"Black?" I suggest. Black's a nice, safe color.
"Black would wash you out. You want Oliver to actually notice you, right?"
"Well, yeah…"
"Then think about him rather than yourself for a second. Now, what color?" Even though it's hard to picture myself in a dress at all, I try.
"Light blue?" I suggest timidly.
"No conflicting Quidditch teams?"
"Well, the Tutshill Tornados. But I don't really care about them, so…"
"That might actually work, then," she muses and then runs to the rack, coming back with a stunning dress. Too stunning for me. I open my mouth to object, but Leanne covers it with her hand.
"No. Go try it on, then pass judgment." She jams me into a dressing room and it isn't long before curiosity gets the best of me. I slip the dress on and then stand back to see myself in the mirror.
The dress is beautiful—no doubt about it. It's a light blue, strapless, floor length gown. The top is fitted tightly and cinched in at the waist, while the bottom flares out all the way to the floor. It honestly makes me feel like a princess. For once in my life I actually feel beautiful.
I step out of the dressing room and Leanne's jaw drops.
"Oh my god, Katie! You look gorgeous. You have boobs!" Yes, it has been confirmed.
"I want this dress," I admit.
"It's about time." Yeah, rub in the fact that you found the perfect dress two stores ago.
So, all in all, I walked out of the store one dress up and 12 galleons down. And apparently that's a bargain.
OoO
When the doorbell rings on New Year's Eve, I rush to the door hoping to get there before my dad. The smallest amount of time my dad spends alone with Oliver, the better. I wrench the door open and there in front of me stands—Tyler?!
"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, surprised.
"You look nice tonight, Katie," he greets smoothly. I was about to respond with a very rude explicative when I feel my dad's hand on my shoulder.
"Tyler, m'boy," he greets.
"Hello, Mr. Bell."
"To what do we owe this pleasure?" my dad asks, all smiles.
"My mum sent me. She wants to know if you two want to come over for New Year's Eve dinner. Continue an old tradition, you know."
"We haven't done that in ages," my dad says happily. Yeah, not since I left for Hogwarts. "What about it, Katie."
"I have plans, Dad," I whisper harshly. Was the ball gown not enough of a tip off? He knows I have plans; he just doesn't approve. For some sick reason, he's always entertained the thought of Tyler and me together. And let me tell you right now that that would not work.
As if on cue, a car turns into the driveway. We must look like idiots gathered on the front porch.
"Dad, go have fun with the Wilsons. Oliver's bringing me home," I say, grabbing some sort of shawl thing that Leanne said would keep me warm. "I'll be home a little after midnight."
"Curfew's eleven."
"It's a New Year's Eve party, Dad!"
"Twelve thirty; no later." I start for the car but my dad stops me. "I wish to meet this boy, Katie." Damn. And Tyler's just standing there smugly. I watch as Oliver steps out of the car and comes over, hopping from foot to foot in the cold—it smells like snow.
"Hello, Mr. Bell," he greets, holding out his hand for my dad to shake. My dad shakes his hand stiffly and says nothing. Oliver looks at me, silently asking for help.
"So, we're going to go," I try.
"Wait, what's your name, son?"
"Oliver Wood," he replies confidently. Ha ha—he knew the answer to that one. If my dad starts asking Oliver about his intentions with Tyler here, I'm going to cry. Plus, the answer would have something to do with Quidditch rather than me, so we'd all be arrested for the Restriction of Something or Another since I doubt you're allowed to talk about bludgers in front of a muggle.
"And how old are you?" my dad asks with narrowed eyes.
"Seventeen."
"Are you aware that my daughter is only fifteen?"
"Dad, we have to go."
"Yes, I am aware of that, sir." They just stand there staring at each other for a while, neither making a move to speak.
"Ok, Dad, we're going," I interrupt. "Have fun at the Wilson's." I grab Oliver and pull him towards his car.
"I'll have her home shortly after midnight, Mr. Bell," Oliver calls, opening my car door for me. My father just gives him a curt nod.
"I'm sorry," I say as soon as we pull out of the driveway.
"Don't worry about it," Oliver says, turning to me with a smile. "You look beautiful, Katie."
"Thank you," I say shyly. "I didn't know you could drive."
"My parents say it's useless but Cullen taught me so I went ahead and got my license." It was quiet for a few seconds and I knew what was coming next. "So, who was that guy with your dad?"
"His name's Tyler. We're old friends." I answer with only a slight hesitation.
"Old friends or old friends?" he asks, glancing over at me. I don't respond. I don't really care if he knows; I just don't want to say it.
"We went out over the summer—nothing major, just a fling. But he was using me to cheat on his girlfriend so I broke up with him pretty fast. She still has no idea."
"Guys can be asses sometimes." I just rolled my eyes.
It didn't take us long before we arrived at his house. He pulled into the driveway and parked before walking around to let me out.
"Okay, just a few warnings," he starts, leading me towards the back door. "My mum is probably going to fawn over you for about ten minutes."
"Never brought a date home before?" I taunt.
"Actually, no. My Uncle Gary tends to get a little touchy-feely after about three drinks. I'll keep you away form him. We normally only have to suffer through the first hour downstairs. After that, everyone's too drunk to notice us missing."
He opened the back door and we stepped into the kitchen. A woman was already in there, looking frazzled in her ball gown and giving instructions to the servers. She looked up when we entered and her face immediately softened.
"You must be Katie!" she says, walking over to greet me.
"Mum, this is Katie Bell. Katie, this is my mother, Elizabeth Wood," Oliver introduces.
"Katie Bell," she says, scanning me all over with a wild glint in her eyes. "Ah, look at how much you've grown!" Where the hell does she know me from? "You look just like your mother."
My heart drops into my stomach. My mother? I faintly register Oliver glancing over at me. Did he know about this?
"You knew my mother?" I finally manage to choke out.
"Oh yes, very well," she says, ignoring my obvious discomfort. "We roomed together at Hogwarts—Ravenclaws. Caroline was my best friend. Such a tragedy. Muggle diseases shouldn't be able to kill us wizards."
I can't breathe. I can't think. My mother? No one's mentioned her in years—except me. But it's not a surprise if you're the one talking about it.
"Come on, Katie," Oliver says, taking my hand. "I want to show you off."
"It was nice meeting you, Katie."
"You too, Mrs. Wood."
Oliver takes me by the arm and leads me to the main room where happy couples are already twirling around on the dance floor.
"Katie, I'm sorry. My mum gets a little too friendly sometimes. I didn't know she knew your mum—I didn't," he apologizes.
"Katie!" Leanne calls to me before I can answer and engulfs me in a hug. "I told you you'd look gorgeous in that dress!"
"Yeah, you were right," I say, faking a smile.
Cullen walks over and places his hand on Leanne's back. "I think we're ahead of schedule," he announces happily. "Oliver, your dad's already broken into a dirty rendition of Jingle Bells and Uncle Gary's on his fourth firewhiskey. I'd say we have about thirty more minutes—max." And without further ado, Cullen swept Leanne off and onto the dance floor.
"Listen Katie, if you don't feel well, then we can go on upstairs." Oliver says once they're gone.
"I'm fine—really." I add when I see his look of disbelief. "Oliver, I swear. It just surprised me is all. I want to have fun. Let's dance."
"Really?" Oliver asks, a whole new expression of disbelief presenting itself on his face. "Last time I checked, you don't dance."
"It's the dress," I say simply, pulling him onto the dance floor. And I have to admit that Oliver's a good dancer. I really didn't expect it just from that one dance at my birthday party, but he makes me look like a dunce. Which I'm not denying that I am…
Finally, a slow song comes on and we're able to slow our pace a bit. He wraps his arms around me and I rest my head on his shoulder.
"Katie, are you sure you're okay?" he whispers into my ear.
"I'm fine," I insist.
"Okay," he says, gently kissing the top of my head. I glance across the room and see Cullen gesturing wildly over by the drinks.
"Oliver, Cullen's trying to get your attention," I say and Oliver turns to stare at him. When Cullen is sure Oliver has noticed him, he takes off upstairs with Leanne by his side.
"You want to join them?" Oliver asks. It's obvious he wants to get out of here; he's just being polite and asking me first.
"Sure," I say.
"Cullen has a bottle of firewhiskey up there," he says happily, leading me upstairs. "He also has a whole bunch of muggle crap. A television—stuff like that."
"Sounds good to me."
We join Cullen and Leanne in Cullen's room and I have to admit that it was much more fun than the party. We talked (and drank) as some old Beatles music played in the background. It was just four friends having a good time.
My mind, however, kept jumping back to the mention of my mother earlier. I don't know why it bothers me so much. It's just weird to hear about my mum's other life—the magical one. Dad never talks about what she did for a living or anything like that…
About two hours in, Cullen and Leanne start seriously making out on Cullen's bed, so Oliver and I head for his room. I bring the firewhiskey with me.
"You really don't need anymore," he says, taking the bottle from me.
"I'm not drunk," I argue.
"I know. And I want to keep it that way." I just roll my eyes even though I silently agree.
I then focus all of my attention on his room—Oliver Wood's bedroom. I never thought that I would be here. The walls are covered with pictures of Quidditch teams (big surprise, right), but there are so many different teams that I can't really tell who he supports. I notice that on his desk he keeps a picture of our Gryffindor house team. And there Oliver and I are, our arms wrapped around each other, waving animatedly.
"Why so many?" I ask, walking around and looking at all of the different teams.
"Just keeping my options open."
I stop my pacing in front of a poster for Puddlemere United—definitely the most represented poster in the room. "This is where you want to go," I state and he nods slowly.
"They're not great," he says, coming over to join me. "But they have potential and their keeper's bloody horrible." I laugh. "I mean, I couldn't play straight out of school or anything, but I could get on their reserve team and work my way up." It's nice seeing him this happy. Unable to resist, I reach down and grab his hand. He interlaces his fingers with mine.
Looking closer at the poster, I noticed that the only girl on their team, the Seeker, is actually quite gorgeous. Is she one of the reasons Oliver has chosen Puddlemere?
Maybe it was the alcohol or perhaps my unfounded jealousy of Oliver's poster, but before I could even comprehend what we were doing, Oliver and I were lying on his bed—him on top of me—and kissing as if our lives depended on it. As his lips moved from mine to my neck, I opened my eyes briefly and caught sight of the clock on Oliver's wall.
"Oliver, it's twelve thirty," I say, pushing him gently off of me.
"Damn it!" he exclaims. Laughing, we make our way through all of the drunken people present, and out into his car. "You're dad's going to kill me," he says as he backs up.
"He's probably not even home," I laugh. "It's New Year's Eve. Surely there's an American football game on."
We pull into my driveway a few minutes later and my dad, thankfully, isn't at home. He and Mr. Wilson have probably crashed watching taped Super Bowls or something.
"Thanks for tonight, Oliver."
"No; thank you," he says and gives me a soft kiss on the lips before I get out of the car and into my own home. Without showering, I change my clothes and get into bed. It's been one hell of a night. I look out my window and watch as snowflakes begin to fall on a new year.
OoO
Next time on Love and Quidditch: (they're back at Hogwarts)
"What does you going out with Oliver mean for the two of us?" Fred asked, slowly. Surprisingly, I understood that. Fred's like my best friend. I spend so much time with him and I'm so comfortable with him that I've never really thought about what our actions look like to an outsider. We're always flirting—always.
"I don't know," I say, confused. "Fred, can I ask you a question?" He nods. "Why did you ask me out before Christmas?"
Ooh, what will he say? Review to find out sooner.