CHAPTER6
(Days six to eight)
The next day, my happiness was almost uncontainable that I thought I was going to spontaneously combust. I wasn't able to sleep properly, but, hey, Oliver kissed me! Who cared if I had massive bags under my eyes? I was in such a jovial mood throughout the day that Madame Pomfrey kept checking my temperature and muttering something about medicine-induced delirium. Whatever.
Around three o' clock in the afternoon, as the mediwitch disentangled the last bit of dressing from my arm, Angelina and Alicia arrived to fetch me.
"How's your arm, love?" Alicia asked, sitting on the bed next to me.
"Good as new," I beamed, stretching it out for them to see. There was still some sort of twinge when I twisted it a certain way, but it was nothing I couldn't manage.
"That's great!" Angelina gave me a hug, thrusting a pack of Bertie Botts in my hand afterwards.
"Aww, thanks. I've been wanting these since last night…" I said, remembering that George was supposed to come over, but that he could be quite forgetful sometimes.
"Actually, we just found that lying by the doorway," Alicia explained sheepishly, after which Angelina shot her a look.
"So much for your thoughtfulness." I rolled my eyes jokingly at the pair, pulling the package open. "But that's ok, because I feel uh-maze-ing." I said smugly, popping a red jelly bean in my mouth. Cherry. Mmm.
"I know that look," Angie said, sitting on the bed next to me, intrigued. And so, without further ado, I narrated the remarkable swing of things.
After a rouse of uncontrollable giddy laughter (Angelina actually tumbled backwards and fell flat on her arse), we were thrown out of the hospice, but not before hugging the uptight mediwitch who threatened to cut off my arm if I ever came back again. She meant it jokingly, of course. I think.
We spent the rest of the day getting ready for the celebration tonight. It wasn't a big bash, just a little soiree of sorts to celebrate Gryffindor winning the first match of the season, but it wouldn't hurt to look pretty any given day! Anything to increase the possibility of getting snogged again was always a good thing.
Gryffindor really throws the best parties.
We were dancing quite inebriatedly as music from the Wizarding Wireless blasted from every corner of the Gryffindor commons. I waved my hands in the air, enjoying the liberties of having feeling back in my limbs as Oliver, who hadn't left my company since the party started, bobbed his head coolly in front of me, a bottle of butterbeer laced in his fingers.
Angelina and Alicia were mingling with several fifth-years, shooting me and Oliver teasing looks every once in a while. Lee and George were working overtime, sneaking in grub after grub from the kitchens, while Fred negotiated with Percy to allow the extension of the celebrations past midnight. It was, after all, the first celebration of the year and the response from the lowerclassmen was overwhelming.
"...surely you don't want to hinder the enhancement of intra-house ties..." I heard Fred say as the arguing pair passed us, with Percy holding a cup of butterbeer himself, the filthy hypocrite. I never understood why Percy was so goddamn snooty for a Weasley. I'd met most of them from staying over at the Burrow last year, and Percy, among the lot, had no sense of humour whatsoever.
We were talking about professional Quidditch when all of a sudden, Oliver went incredibly off-topic and suggested that…
"We should go out, Kate," he said with a sly grin as he took my hand and twirled me about.
"We should?" I asked surprised, seeing the hopeful expression in his face. I was about to launch myself at him and say, "Take me, I'm yours," (scratch the last part), when suddenly, a certain black-haired Ravenclaw came to mind.
"But…" I bit my lip, stopping myself.
"But what?"
"Well, you're supposed to be going out with Cho Chang, right?"
"Oh," he laughed heartily, sniggering at my face as though I had said something silly.
"I'm glad that you find this incredibly hilarious," I said, feeling rather offended.
"Well, Katie Bell, I'm not supposed to be going out with her because she fancies another bloke," he explained simply, taking a swig of butterbeer.
"So you're saying... had she not fancied this other lad, you'd be dating her in a snap, yeah?" I tilted my head slightly, waiting for a response.
"No, no, no. I didn't say that," he recanted, looking at me, slightly panic-stricken. "Look, Cho is my neighbour and we've been friends for as long as I remember. But I don't fancy her. I can't when I'm smitten with somebody else…"
My heart raced. Oh Merlin! He's talking about me, right? Should I buy this? Come to think of it, his accent is quite similar to Cho's...
He looked so woebegone and so sincere that I couldn't force myself to be angry at him. Besides, Oliver Wood had just asked me out. Was I in the position to decline that invitation? I think not.
"Well?" he asked.
"Yeah, I do think we should."
Under the pretense of whispering something in my ear, he planted a discreet kiss on my cheek before dancing with me some more.
So there. I never thought I'd ever say this, but Oliver and I are going to Hosmeade together on Saturday. Yay? Most definitely!
DAY 7
"You are so lucky, Kates," Angelina said as she braided her hair in front of the mirror.
"You know what, I think I am quite lucky these days," I nodded with a grin, fixing my tie beside her. "Where do you think he'll take me?"
"Quality Quidditch Supplies," Alicia quipped.
I chucked the nearest item within my grasp at her. It happened to be a boar brush. She caught it (Damn chaser reflexes!) and used it to tame her wavy tresses.
"Thanks," she smirked.
I threw her a dirty look, resisting the urge to comment about Lee's lack of date-planning skills. Trust me, this was a topic she always dodged.
"Wherever it is, I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself, as long as he doesn't get date-planning tips from Lee," Angie said, coming to my defense.
"Thank you!" I clapped my hands appreciatively as Alicia did the mature and stuck her tongue out at us.
"I hope George doesn't mind…" I said, thinking aloud.
"Umm… why would he?" Angelina asked, fixing the contents of her bag.
"Well, it's always been me and him in Hogsmeade and now, he has to go with either of you guys because I'm going with Oliver."
Angelina suddenly had this awkward expression in her face. "Has he not told you?"
"Told me what?"
"Oh, so you still don't know yet…" Alicia grinned wickedly.
"That night you were in the Hospital Wing, he told me he would inform you about it," Angie said, completely ignoring the dazed look on my face.
"'It?' What's 'it'?" I was starting get panicky.
"I'm pretty sure he went up to see you; I saw him leave the portrait hole."
"Yeah, I saw him too," Alicia chimed in.
"Can anybody just bloody tell me what the fuss is about?" I was going spare for being dead clueless on the matter and for the two of them going on and on without giving me a proper reply.
"Maybe you should sit down."
"Don't be stupid Alicia, I don't need to sit down. What is it?"
"Somebody asked George out after we got back from visiting you…"
A breath caught in my throat. "Really?" I crossed my arms on my chest. "Who?"
"You wouldn't believe this, but…Cho Chang."
And suddenly something clicked. George was that bloke that Cho fancied. Why didn't I see this coming?
"Small sodding world, innit?" Alicia shrugged, getting up from her bed and marching to the loos.
"Yeah…" I nodded contemplatively, sitting on the foot of my bed. "Small world."
It's one thing for George to be dating Cho, but it's a completely different story if he dates Cho without telling me. He's not obligated to, I suppose, but I am, after all, his best mate. Plus, everybody already knew. He knows I hate being left in the dark.
Throughout Arithmancy, a class we shared with the Ravenclaws, I kept dropping hints to give him some some sort of opening to a discussion on the recent development in his erstwhile stagnant dating life. There was, "Cho curled her hair that morning," and "what's the name of that lad beside Cho?" and the worst and most obvious mention of all, "Ha-CHO!" when I sneezed. He didn't take the baits, though. In fact, he acted like he was deeply uninterested, steering the discussion on his and Fred's new inventions.
I even tried to catch him giving her his signature George Weasley grin when she passed. But surprisingly, while Cho beamed at him so cheerfully with her dimples in full display, George lifted a
In my mind, I set up an ultimatum. If he doesn't open up by dinner tomorrow, I was going to confront him.
DAY 8
And so I did.
As he had asked me after supper, I met him at the common room to do our homework. When I went down toting my books, quills, and parchment, he was already downstairs, poured over his Charms book, with his study materials sprawled all over the wooden study table by the window.
He lifted his head up, smiling when he saw me approach him. I sat across of him, stacking my books on the desk.
"So where are you taking Cho?" I asked, wasting no time, as I laid my Charms book open.
He looked up from writing in his notebook, a look of pure and utter shock etched across his face. "You know about it? Who told you?"
DUH. Angelina and Alicia are blabber-mouths, who else?
"I read it in the papers this morning," I rolled my eyes, extracting a pencil from my pocket. "I'm slightly hurt you didn't tell me."
"You are aware that I didn't—it was she who, you know, not me…" he stressed.
"Yes, yes, George," I said dismissively, laughing weakly at the flustered expression on his face. "What woman wouldn't want to sink their teeth into the delicious George Weasley?"
"Ehh… I don't know about that but you should have known it'd only be a matter of time till these babies reeled someone in," he replied jokingly, rolling up his sleeves and flexing his non-existent biceps—always his source of pride.
I gave him an 'are you for real?' look, seizing his arm and pushing it back down the table. I swear, you give this boy a slight push, and he gives back a mighty shove in return.
The light-hearted moment evaporated quickly, soon replaced by seriousness and urgency.
"Well, I was supposed to tell you, but I didn't know how to run it by you."
"That shouldn't have been hard, unless you didn't want me to know..." I reasoned.
He looked away, but not before I saw a flash of guilt in his eyes.
"I just can't understand why you kept it from me," I said diplomatically, reaching out to place my hand on his arm. "Just know that I'm happy for you."
He shrugged his shoulders, grinning crookedly. "It's, um, cool, I suppose. Thanks."
I can't believe this guy! A girl—a prominent and pretty (never mind my residual thought on the matter) girl, at that, asks him out and all he says is "cool"? It's not like he gets asked out everyday, you know. The last time he went on a date was… let's just say, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.
"So where are you taking her?" I just had to know.
"I was thinking of Zonko's, the Shrieking Shack…" he began, tracing the end of his quill along his jawline.
"You can't possibly be serious."
"What? We always go there."
"Exactly. You're going on a date, George," I pointed out.
"What constitutes a date anyway?"
"A nice stroll along the shops, a spot of tea or butterbeer, long conversations with a bit of flirting. You know, that nice, pleasant stuff."
"Ah, if that's the case then we've been dating for two years now," he noted, deliberately looking away just to intrigue me.
"No!" What the hell?
"But you said—"
"George…" I said his name in that motherly tone that always put him off.
"Oh come off it, Kates. You know I'm teasing," George gave me a wink before scratching another sentence on his parchment.
I shook my head, smiling a bit. "Going back, I'm not sure if that's Cho's speed. Those places aren't really for the faint-hearted, no offense to her, but she does seem a bit delicate for a joke shop."
"I suppose she is quite fragile," he speculated. "As opposed to you, Kates," he reached out, pinching my arm. "You're all burly and muscly and quite like an amazon, really."
"That's a horrible thing to say, George," I snapped, rubbing the area that he abused.
"How are things with Ollie-wollie-trollie-doily…" he asked casually, ignoring the death glare I was giving him.
"Quit calling him that," I chided.
"We'd used it before and you didn't seem to mind."
"Well I do now."
"Why?"
"How would you like it if I start calling Cho, Chobacca or something?" I cocked an eyebrow up at him.
He stared at me blankly, his brows furrowed.
"Never mind," I waved my hand airily, remembering that the Star Wars reference meant nothing to a wizard. "It's a muggle thing. Forget it. Just stop calling Oliver that."
After a couple more minutes chatting about unrelated gibberish, we were back on the same sodding topic.
"Where do you reckon should I bring her? Not that there's a wide array of choices," George asked, resting his chin on his palm.
"Madam Puddifoot's serves great espressos," I suggested, recalling one memorable incident. "Remember when we had to stay there because it was raining so hard and…"
"…the owner of that underpants shop chased us down the street because you nicked one of their leopard-print thongs…"
"I didn't nick it, you prat. I didn't realize it got stuck on my kitten-heel!" I stood up and whacked him so hard with my leather-bound notebook that some nearby students actually flinched.
"Just—ow!—admit it, Kates," his hand flew up his back, before wagging his eyebrows maniacally. "You're a right wildcat between the sheets. RAWR!"
And then came another mighty WHACK! before he yelped in pain and I had to chase him out the portrait hole, down the stairs, past many intrigued students, before I pinned him down, tired and panting, by the suit of armor in the third hall corridor.
I guess it's back to normal between me and George and it feels pretty good.
I never liked Cho Chang—let's get that fact out in the open before anything else. It's one of those aversions you can't explain. Maybe it's her pin-straight hair or that cloud of giggles she and her friends seem to always be surrounded with... who knows. I just don't like her. Period. But if George fancies her, I suppose I can live with it. He doesn't like Oliver for me either, so...
Touche.
A/N: Right. So I tallied all the votes. (Not that I asked for them, really, but some of you took it upon yourselves to review with your favoured eventual pairing.) I only counted those who literally begged me to pair them up. Lol.
Oliver/Katie – 8; George/Katie – 5 – Well, your votes do not have actual bearing on how I'm going to wrap this baby up, but it's quite interesting to know your specuations. I just hope you are reading this story because you like it overall (writing, humour, pairings, etc.) and not just because it's going to be OWKB or GWKB eventually. I hope you won't be dejected or disappointed in the end.
Thanks to ALL you guys who recentlyreviewed or added the story in their faves or alerts: Azareth Sakura, becca5w, Black Flaming Heart, Go your own way, Hey There Delilah, Icelandic Morning Glory, idioteque exits, Intoxicate-me, jimjenks, Meshugenah, Miss Anthrope, Miss Rix, Pissy Abyssinian, RoxieWeasley, snowgem, sweetblonde14, The Painted Lady, vballchick979, abercrombie 18, Ara7, DarkenedRoseThorn, EmilyDaniellePotter, FizzingWhizbeez, Higher than Hope, Intoxicate-me, Just-Katie-Jane12, mirfain251, Moonstone, QueenieKai, readswim04, Riana, sumdea, UnamedFreak, xtotallyatpeacex, anonymous, katdance666 I'm glad you like this so far.
A big HUG to my betas Christine and Jaice, who permitted me to invade their erstwhile peaceful existence. :)
This chapter may have bored you to tears, but it is necessary. You know how that goes. Don't forget to R E V I E W, please. :)