CHAPTER 7
(Day 11 - Friday, Eve of the Big Date)

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Snippets of various conversations involving my current Object of Scorn (Cho Chang) in the past days, mostly with Angelina giving unsolicited and exasperating comments just to spite me. I never thought I'd say this but thank Merlin for Alicia.

Wednesday, Library
Angelina: Cho borrowed a pencil from me in Charms and kept thanking me like I saved her life or something.
(Short pause)
Angelina: And the strange thing about it is she seemed so sincere. She had the mildest, softest Scottish accent that's quite endearing.
Me: (rolls eyes) Well whatever. I just don't know if she's good enough for George…
Alicia: She looks way better than Greta, I'll give her that.
Me: That's true, but, I don't know, doesn't Chang seem needy? Emotionally, I mean.
Angelina: You are just being mean to her.
Alicia: Chang asked for it, Angie.
Me: (puts arm around Alicia) Thank you.
Me: She always gets the great guys.
Alicia: Yeah.
Me: I mean, Cedric, then Harry, then Davies. Now George.
Angelina: You could've had George, you know.
Me: Shut it, Johnson. Oliver might hear.

Wednesday, Dorm
Angelina: If I didn't know better, I'd think you have a huge girl crush on her.
Me: (incredulous) What!
Angelina: You talk about her all the time. I really don't get why you're so angry at her.
Me: I'm not angry. I'm just annoyed. Besides, Alicia doesn't like her either.
Angelina: Alicia dislikes her. You, my friend, HATE her with the capital H. There's a massive difference.
Me: Pfft.

Thursday, Potions
Alicia: She was glancing at George during Astronomy.
Me: I know.
Angelina: Did you tell George?
Me: He didn't ask.
Angelina: (rolls eyes)

Thursday, Dorm
Angelina: Y'know what Kates, you've been acting like a jeal—
Me: (chokes her with a pillow) Don't you dare!
Alicia: Aw go to sleep both of you! We have Quidditch practice in the morning.

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It was 3:45 in the morning. While majority of the Hogwarts population slept soundly, their bodies wrapped around warm comforters and their faces melting into their soft feather pillows, we were out in the pitch, enduring the chilly, October morning air as we strapped on our gear.

"Why do we have dawn practices?" Angelina grumbled.

"Because it's Oliver, love, and there's no known cure," Fred replied, placing a comforting arm around his girlfriend.

I let out a groggy laugh, my uncombed, unwashed blonde hair spilling over my shoulders as I bent over and buckled on my shinguards. I was wearing the regulation trousers and a random T-shirt I pulled out from my dresser.

Fred was right. It was distinctly Oliver to schedule a Quidditch practice at the crack of dawn, despite the fact that our next match wasn't in three weeks. No other captain was this serious or obsessive, whichever word was more appropriate. He believed practicing in the dark would vastly improve our accuracy. (Eye strain, notwithstanding.)

The high-power stadium lights that illuminated the entire pitch made it apparent that everyone, still sleepy and groggy from being yanked out of their comfortable sleep, looked so irked to the core. Even Potter was swearing under his breath.

Obviously, holding training at this lowly hour was rather inconvenient for those of us who wanted rest, but I was never bothered with it. Sure I issued complaints here and there, but I treated like any other training we have. In fact, I even prefered it to the practices scheduled immediately after classes because I was always too drained to attend those.

I collapsed on the freshly mowed grass, spreading my legs in a V as I began to stretch.

Not long after, Oliver walked out from the locker areas, wearing a faded purple shirt with the Tutshill Tornados emblem in the middle and black work-out trousers. He looked rough as usual, brown hair all over his head and his eyes tired from sleep as he dragged the trunk of equipment across the grassy field.

As I got up from the ground, it suddenly hit me that this was our first practice session since he asked me out. Knowing Oliver, however, there wouldn't be any preferential treatment. Besides, I wouldn't want it any other way. Compared with Angelina and Alicia, who initially tried out for the team just to meet boys, I was really deadset in being an athlete. Still am.

He stood a couple of paces away from me, writing something on the clipboard he was holding then began the rollcall, "Bell, Johnson…"

"Why do you have to be first?" Alicia whispered in my ear.

"It's in alphabetical order," I gave Alicia a playful push with my hip as I pulled my hair up in a messy pony tail and Oliver ended the attendance check with, "Weasley."

"Right, everyone. I'm pleased to see you all here. We're playing Ravenclaw next and I don't want anyone half-hearting training for any reason." At this, Oliver shot George a look that clearly told everyone what he meant. "Ravenclaw is a strong team..."

After a short spiel on Oliver's occular inspection of "the opponent," he instructed us to mount our brooms and proceed with our drills.

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The scent of fresh grass as morning dew rose from the ground teemed the morning air. After an hour or so, the sun has risen sufficiently to see that everyone was exhausted from rigorous training. After Alicia's successful left goal post shot, which Oliver had described as "flawlessly executed," he blew his whistle to signal the end of the training. Finally.

As we all descended the ground, Harry tapped me on the shoulder. "Wood said it's your turn to fix up the equipment."

"Oh, right. Let me just get my towel. I'm kind of sweaty."

Far off in the field Oliver was already gathering some of the remembralls he and Harry used for catching and speed drills.

"I'm dying for a shower!" Alicia exclaimed, grabbing her bag hastily and zooming inside the castle on her broom.

Angelina jerked her thumb towards the direction Alicia headed to. "I'm heading inside as well. I'm famished and dirty."

"Right, I'll see you later," I nodded, noting everyone's looks of exhaustion. Fred lifted a hand and followed his girlfriend out the gates.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my palm and unzipped my gym bag. As I parted the closure of my bag, I found the most beautiful long-stemmed rose resting daintily on top of my towel. A note was attached to it in a red ribbon: Are we still on for tomorrow? P.S. I'm not taking no for an answer. –O. Wood

I giggled slightly at the way he signed his name: O. Wood. Like Oliver won't suffice. Even Ol would work. The boy is just too ridiculously formal sometimes that he sounds silly.

"Want me to wait for you?" George offered.

"No," I declined, still smiling at the lovely flower inside my bag. "Go on. I'll meet you at breakfast."

"Well alright." I could sense the reluctance in his voice but I knew he'd understand.

As soon as the others were out of the pitch, I jogged towards Oliver, a goofy grin plastered on my face. He was kneeling on the grass, locking the big trunk of equipment with his wand. The faded purple shirt he was wearing was a deeper shade of violet now from his sweat, the fabric clinging tightly to his muscular arms. Very nice indeed.

"Hey," he greeted as I approached.

"I thought I was supposed to be cleaning up," I noted.

"Well you can help me lug this in," he said with a smile, getting up from the ground and shoving his wand inside his pocket.

"Ok," I agreed, walking over to the other side of the trunk, and we lifted it by the handle simultaneously.

"You hadn't forgotten about tomorrow, I hope?"

I shook my head no as we walked towards the locker areas. "Of course not. Thanks for the lovely flower, by the way."

"I wasn't sure if you liked flowers so I just gave you just one in case you didn't like it. I'd feel bad if you binned an entire bouquet," he explained sheepishly.

"All girls like flowers, Oliver," I said matter-of-factly. And in a stroke of momentary boldness, I added, "Especially when they come from cute lads." Oh Merlin! I just came on to him in my sticky and sweat-drenched glory. Gutsy.

His mouth made an 'oh,' before breaking into a grin. "Thanks," he laughed a bit, casting a side-long glance at me. "You're cute, too," he added as an afterthought.

We stashed the trunk beside the other similar crates of equipment inside a stuffy room at the back of the dugout.

"I didn't know you're a Tutshill fan," I said, pointing at his shirt as we walked out the archway towards the stands were we left our brooms and things.

"I'm not," he said, looking down on the TT logo. "I just like the shirt. It's quite comfortable."

"Wouldn't hold up well with the Puddlemere scouts if they saw you in that though."

He shrugged. "I'd rather be with the Magpies to be quite honest."

"I'm rooting for the Magpies, too!" I exclaimed. "Rundale and Shevchenko are brilliant!"

"Ruddybrilliant, those Magpies chasers," he agreed, glancing at me as he bent over and seized his knapsack and broom.

I swung my gym bag over my shoulder, smiling at him, and grabbed my Comet Two Sixty by the handle.

It was an unspoken agreement that we walked together towards the common room, whisked by casual conversation about the Montrose Magpies, which turned out to be our favourite team.

We reached the commons still gushing about the Magpies' recent rout of the Cannons two days ago, before the conversation died a natural death and the matter of saying goodbye was presented before us.

"Well, I suppose I'll see you later."

"Sure."

I moved closer, tiptoeing slightly to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. (I was entitled to, after all, since we were going out!)

But without forewarning, Oliver deliberately turned his face to the left and my lips pressed against his with momentary hesitation. He smiled against my mouth as it hung stupidly in surprise. His soft lips grazed mine in languid pace, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. I closed my eyes, a feeling of light-headedness taking over my system.

I pulled away after a couple of seconds, a minute perhaps (but who's really counting?), feeling a bit out of breath.

"Bye," I said, turning on my heel and suppressing the need to squee loudly in his presence. After disappearing behind the door to the girls' dorms, I leaned on the nearest wall, sliding down and melting into a puddle of goo on the cemented floor.

I knew there was a reason why I loved dawn practices!

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Like all Friday evenings, my friends and I were lounging in the common room like a pride of lazy lions soaking the heat of the fire. Angelina had her legs stretched out on the floor, with Fred lying on her lap. Alicia and Lee were cuddled up in one of the sofas, while George and I shared the long couch.

To my dismay and discomfort, the main topic of discussion was my foiled 28-day plan. Like great supportive girl friends, Angelina and Alicia both came to my rescue. Fred, George and Lee, meanwhile, teased me for being such a pushover.

But is it my fault, really? Is it my fault that Oliver is so bloody gorgeous? I don't think so. Is it my fault that he suddenly fancies me? Absolutely not.

I was a victim. A victim of a cruel twist of fate stuck in existential funk. Err.. right.

Besides, would I pass up on an opportunity to go out with him? Honestly!

For several minutes I endured teasing and taunting from my friends regarding my failure to keep The Plan, before everybody wisely decided to mind their own damn business. Angelina and Fred were now snogging on one of the couches, while Alicia and Lee were having a healthy argument about whatever it was that they always argued about. I was just glad the heat was no longer on me.

I lifted my legs and stretched them across George's lap as I read a magazine.

"Woah, Kates," George blurted out.

I looked up quickly, hearing the surprise in his voice.

"I never noticed it before, but you've got ugly toes," George seized my ankle and lifted it for closer inspection.

"No I don't."

"Yeah, you do. They're practically like fingers."

"Well then, just focus on the middle one," I snarled, pulling my unpedicured foot away and drawing my feet underneath me as I looked at him with despair.

"Edgy," he grinned.

"That was totally uncalled for," I shot back, shifting in my seat.

After a minute of his cooing and mild grovelling, my legs were back on his lap and we resumed casual and irrelevant blabber as I flipped through the fashion magazine I borrowed from Alicia to get ideas on what to wear for tomorrow.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you think I should go out with her?"

I closed the magazine and tossed it on the coffee table.

"Having second thoughts now, are we?" I asked, scolding myself inwardly for feeling a sudden gush of satisfaction.

"Cho's a lovely girl…"

"Mhmm…"

"and she's gorgeous, really…"

"Mhmm…"

"and a fantastic flyer…"

"I know she's 'all that' but listing her qualities is not getting us anywhere." I reasoned impatiently.

"I know."

"The question is not really whether you should, it's more of, do you really want to?"

"I don't know. She seems a bit high-maintenance."

"Couldn't argue with that."

He fidgeted in his seat. "What do I do if she suggests that we eat in that fancy restaurant in Hogsmeade?" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'll break the bank."

George really hated talking about his financial woes. And when he did, I always struggled to find the right words to say to him.

"I can lend you a couple of Galleons, if you want?" I suggested tentatively. "You know, just in case."

"No," he declined stiffly. "I can manage."

As I looked at him absent-mindedly twisting the string of his pajama pants, I realized that despite the apprehensions I had with his date, I should be a friend and hope for the best for him as all good friends do. I wanted him to feel better and if I gave him my 'blessing,' maybe he would.

"Give it a chance. I'm sure it will work out," I patted his knee, hoping I sounded more convinced than I actually was. "Besides if she tries to do anything funny, she'll have me to answer to."

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A/N: GAH! I don't understand why the line breaks won't work right now! Stupid ff. -scoffs- Anyway...

Thanks for reading! Special thanks to those who reviewed the last chappie: Kit Merlot, twisted little sister, sumdea, Just-Katie-Jane12, Meshugenah, one, snowgem, xtotallyatpeacex, The Painted Lady, lachesis02, RoxieWeasley, Iamcarterman, Celi, abercrombie 18, rubber ducky 9, mirfain251, nickyfox13 and Sarah (Thanks for pointing that out!). Hope to hear from you all, again. HINTHINT.

MY BETAS ARE THE BESTEST! Christine (FizzingWhizbeez) and Jaice (Semma), I love you both tons! XD Thanks for everything!

Reference: Toes dialogue shamelessly stolen from One Tree Hill.

Next: The 1st Hogsmeade weekend. Flirting, squirrels and, of course, more snogging.

But before anything else, please REVIEW. And if you have time make it a long one. I would love to hear more constructive criticism from y'all. Oh, and 100+ reviews sounds great. Help me:D