Chapter Five
(Day 5 – P.M.)
My shoulder and arms graduated from excruciatingly painful to alarmingly numb. After downing an ample amount of Skele-fix aka the most vile liquid I've ever drank next to my dad's scotch, I settled myself in the farthest bed in the Hospital Wing, my back against a pillow and my legs covered by clinical white sheets as I waited for Madame Pomfrey with the bandages.
I gazed longingly outside the window, making out the Quidditch pitch from afar. The athletes were patches and blurs of red and yellow, hovering above the ground. Every once in a while the cheers from the crowd would get louder, which I understood as a successful goal attempt. I kept fidgeting in my mattress, the thought of being the potential cause of my team's loss was deeply unnerving.
"Miss Bell," the old nurse approached us with a small smile. "I took the liberty of owling your parents about your accident."
"Oh. Thank you," I said with a curt nod, holding out my arm as she had motioned.
"You're quite lucky that you didn't break your back," she said, taking my limb with her delicate hands. "I've seen worse accidents in my time."
I nodded simply, not quite sure what was the correct response. As she looped the gauze over and over while mumbling incoherent phrases about her apparent dislike for the sport, my mind wandered off to the pitch again. I'd most certainly be damned if they lost. I'm sure Oliver would drown himself in the showers if we surrendered our FIRST game of the season. Or he'd probably drown me. Then again, he wouldn't do that. He's been really friendly with me over the past days.
Save for the occasional flirting, there were no previous indications that Oliver wanted to develop a deeper relationship with me. It's quite strange that he suddenly wants to be around me more often and he gives me those weird looks I used to give him. He's been nice. Too nice, in fact, that it almost seemed like he knew I was trying to get over him.
Ok. Maybe I'm just paranoid. But if somebody did rat me out thinking it'd a great bet material or anice prank, expect cold-blooded murder. Definitely not by Avada Kedavra, but a slow painful death involving a rusty knife, sulfuric acid and…
"You're done," the mediwitch's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Huh?" I glanced at her then down at my perfectly mummified arm. Horrifying. And I was to thank her for this piece of art, I suppose. "Err… Thank you."
She nodded, stashing the gauze and things on her basket of supplies. "Now, Miss Bell, get some rest and finish that," she gazed pointing at the cup of Skele-fix sitting threateningly on the table beside me.
I swallowed hard, still feeling the bitterness from my dose earlier, but nodded anyway.
Later, a boisterous gang of students burst inside the Hospital Wing, much to the surprise of a very aggravated looking mediwitch. I bolted upright, straining my neck slightly to find Angie and Alicia, sweaty and dirty as ever, bearing similar expressions of glee.
"We won! 260-60!"
The hospital wing air was suddenly filled with the smell of grass and sweat.
"Only six visitors are allowed!" bellowed the irritable Madame Pomfrey, advancing in large strides and waving her index finger in the air.
"One… two…" Fred started bopping each person's heads as he counted out loud. "Yep, we are six." Fred, George, Oliver, Angelina, Alicia, and Harry.
Looking a bit dejected, Madame Pomfrey crossed her arms on her chest, her lips aquiver. "Well you lot best keep your voices down. This is an infirmary not your local pub. Merlin knows you're not even of age…" her voice trailed as she returned to her station.
"That's amazing!" I gushed, lifting my arms to hug my friends but decided against it, remembering I was half-paralyzed.
Alicia and Angelina beamed, giving me a happy sandwich hug anyway.
"So how are you feeling, Kates," George asked, sitting on the mattress next to me.
"Drugged. The medications are making me dizzy," I replied, noticing he had a bit of dirt on the side of his cheeks. I reached out to rub it off with my thumb.
"Er.. thanks," an odd pink tinge appeared on his cheeks.
"So Kate, how long do you reckon are you staying here?" Oliver, whose sweaty hair was more ruffled than usual, asked with a grin. His rugged look was very delicious, I must admit.
"Madame Pomfrey wants me to stay overnight, actually," I replied, frowning slightly.
"Well, we've decided to postpone the celebrations till tomorrow so you can join the festivities, right George?" Fred said, giving his twin a nudge. George nodded.
"Oh thanks guys."
After a few jolly minutes of conversing about the match, highlighted by Fred's tragi-comic reenactment of my accident, Madame Pomfrey decided to wow us with her amazing powers of alliteration, suggesting that my "filthy, flying friends" wash up before "infecting the infirmary." Several complaints were issued afterward but my team was sent off anyway. As they all filed out the door, I noticed somebody was going against the current.
George was explaining something to Madame Pomfrey, pointing to something in my general direction. I looked at the end table and found his tatty dragon-hyde gloves sitting beside my untouched glass of Skele-fix.
He ran hastily towards me, the layers of his fiery hair flapping up and down. "I…"
"Yeah, I know," I motioned to the gloves. "Oh, George, can you bring me a couple of sweets later? My taste buds are quite bitter from all the Skele-fix."
"You got it," he nodded, pocketing the gloves then leaning forward to kiss my forehead. "Get well Kates," he said and fled. What a sweetheart.
The infirmary smelled odd—like old canvass, medicine and loneliness. Shelves upon shelves of unidentified liquid gave out the extraordinary clinical scent pervading in the air. But the loneliness? It must be because it was dark and there were a lot of empty beds.
After eating a rather bland dinner, freshening up and changing into the pajamas Madame Pomfrey lent me, I was back on my bed, boredly observing a line of ants marching up the wall out of lack of better things to do as I downed another glass of Skele-fix. I've been waiting for my sweets but George hasn't arrived still.
"Kate?"
Well I'll be damned. "Oliver, hi!"
He came in wearing red pajama pants and a white wifebeater underneath his school coat, toting a bundle of assorted reading materials in his hands.
"I brought you some magazines. Maybe you were getting bored staring at the walls or something," Oliver smiled, placing a pile of quidditch-related magazines on my bed side.
"Oh." How nice. And predictable. But the gesture made me smile nonetheless. "Thank you."
He pulled up a chair and sat by my bedside, looking at me with a sort of shy smile playing in his lips. We held each other's gaze for a few seconds, and all the while, I was very much aware that my hair was a mess, my breath was probably as vile as the medicine I've been drinking and that he was, well, there… right in front of me. And we were alone.
"And..." he broke the silence. "I think you'd be quite pleased to know that Alicia and Angelina sent you your homework."
He pulled my Potions book from under the pile of magazines and presenting it to me with a flourish. I groaned.
"Those inconsiderate cows," I shook my head and sighed at the sodding book now on my bed. "I can't even write because of my arm." Seriously, they should have sent me something a little more thoughtful or compassionate, like my favorite Alice band or candies.
"Fear not," he said, extracting a pencil and rolled parchment from the inside of his coat. "If you didn't know, I'm quite the expert in Potions."
"Oh I highly doubt that," I smirked, noting the incident when I saw him skulking out of Snape's class for blowing up his cauldron which spewed its contents all over the Potions master's front. I heard he had to serve two weeks detention for that mess up.
"It was an accident," he laughed good-naturedly, ruffling his hair slightly so that some of it was sticking out. Cute. "I didn't know you were there though."
"Oh," I bit my lip guiltily. I had that habit of passing by his class on my way to the lavatories even if it was out of the way. He was looking at me expectantly.
"I was sent by er... Flitwick to give Snape err... something," I lied hastily, but he seemed to have bought it. I think.
"Well, seeing as you don't need my services…" he feigned dejection, sighing heavily and clutching his heart. "I best be off."
"Hang on. Don't go," I said a little too quickly as he got up from his chair. Merlin, I sounded bloody desperate!
He grinned, "So, are you enlisting my help with your homework?"
"Yes."
"Shall we crack on then?"
SKELE-FIX
From the makers of Skele-gro
Side effects: rashes, slight nausea, tingling of the skin
Excessive intake may cause: delusion, hyperactivity, insomnia
We had finished my homework over an hour ago but he insisted on accompanying me for a while. Madame Pomfrey, who seemed to a bit taken by Oliver's charm, simply approved. So there we were tucked in a dimly lit corner of the infirmary, swapping silly little anecdotes about life in general with the orange light from lamp on the end table serving as our only source of light.
It was mad. I was laughing like a hyena on helium and Oliver wasn't even being in the same level of hilarious as George or Fred during their bad days. Effects of the medication, I daresay. A potentially dangerous reaction, if I may add.
"I'm glad you like that joke," Oliver said, looking quite pleased with himself.
I giggled like there was a niffler inside my pajamas. "Sure I did. It was funny."
"Do you think I'm funny?"
I was severely drugged, but I still had some sense left in me. "Yeah, umm, sometimes. Then again, I'm best mates with quite possibly the biggest pranksters in Hogwarts so it's hard to, you know, compare and stuff."
"George..." he muttered under his breath. "You two are quite close, eh?"
"Yeah, we are."
"Are... you... dating?" he asked reluctantly, giving an awkward pause after each word.
"NO!" I couldn't quite remember why I said it with so much negation, but I did. "No. We're really not."
It seemed like the response Oliver wanted to hear because his lips curled to the sides as his gaze shifted downward, strands of piecey brown hair falling over his face. "That's good to hear."
GOOD TO HEAR HE SAYS! As I looked at him and he looked at me with his boyish grin, I suddenly felt tingles all over my body.
"It's quite late. I'm sure you're a bit keen to get some shut eye yourself," he got up, placing his hands inside his pockets and standing on the balls of his feet like a shy schoolboy. I found it quite amusing.
"Well, alright," I nodded. "Thanks for everything."
"Don't mention it," he leaned forward and just when I thought he was enveloping me in a nice bear hug, his hand was stroking my cheek and our faces were getting closer...
And in that sheltered part of the Hospital Wing, during a particularly late time in the night, Oliver Wood gave me my first kiss.
A/N: Like it? Hate it?
Just a note to all my readers, this story is a GW/KB/OW triangle (obviously, right?). Although it's sorted under the characters Katie B./Oliver W., it doesn't exactly mean they're going to end up together. But I'm not saying they're not either. You never know really… So for now, I suggest you keep an open mind and tell me what you think of this chapter.
The GO button is waiting to be clicked. :) So please, please, please ar ee vee aye ee dobolyu… REVIEW.