Chapter Nine

The case of the Firebolt notwithstanding, the date carried on without a hitch.

Tucked underneath one of the countless pine trees that surrounded Hogwarts, Oliver and I built our own little world, sitting idly, my legs above his, as the cool breeze made us seek each other's warmth, and we kissed and kissed until our lips were the same shade of red, a mixture of friction and temperature.

"This is nice," he said, during one of the times we'd gasp for air.

"You're nice," I replied, inserting my arms around his waist and leaning on his chest.

"You're not so bad yourself, Kates," he smiled, dropping a kiss on top of my head. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mmhmm?" I responded dreamily, closing my eyes and savouring the moment.

"You and Weasley are pretty close, eh?"

My stomach did a little flip-flop. "Sure, why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering if he ever did, you know, make a move?"

I lifted my face towards his. "Me and George are like you and Cho, I suppose."

His face screwed up a little. Like I struck something.

"I mean we're close mates, practically like siblings," I qualified further.

"Oh." He shrugged and I saw an odd glint in his eyes like we weren't on the same page earlier. A look that made me think that maybe him and Cho aren't as platonic as he originally made it seem. However, it wasn't the time for me to start bringing those types of topics on the surface. Not when we're alone and, to be quite honest, I was really getting hot and bothered, what with my thigh grazing his crotch and, from what I felt, he was, too.

"Do you want to go inside?" I asked, more brazenly than I had ever anticipated. "I don't think I've given you a tour of my room."

A smirk formed on his lips, an affirmation to my taking charge. So there we were, running towards the castle like two children about to enter an amusement park for the very first time. And in many ways the experience was like that, as a 'first time' can come only once and I would do well to savor it all.

My four poster suddenly seemed bigger, even though it was occupied by two. He murmured a simple silencing charm setting his wand underneath my pillow. And as his god-like figure loomed over me, I thanked my lucky stars that my teenage dream was finally coming true.

Merlin. I felt reckless, and I felt good. So that was how it felt like, sex. Obviously, indulging in such is not how you get over a guy, but as I lay awake on my bed, replaying the afternoon's events in my head, my 28-day plan seemed like such a distant memory of decades past.

I didn't have to explain why I had that weird expression on my face when Angelina and Alicia entered the room. They knew. And as good friends, they let me enjoy my orgasmic trance, no questions asked for now, but a blow-by-blow was to be divulged later. Obviously.

Day 13

But the next day, Oliver whisked me out of my seat and brought me towards the other end of the Gryffindor table where he usually sat, even before I could recount any detail of our date. At Muggle Studies, I was too distracted in my reverie that I didn't even see the paper crane from Angelina that was conveniently stuck on the crook of my arm. At dinner, Oliver and I ate mashed potatoes so quick we were practically choking on spuds. Under the guise of calling it an early night (which I am sure fooled no one), we met on the quidditch lockers and, needless to say, reenacted another page off of 'Katie Bell's Fantasies featuring Oliver Wood.'

For the next 48 hours, Oliver was my crack, and I couldn't get enough. Naturally, the more I saw of him, the less I saw of my friends. But I think they understood. Everyone except George, who I would find frowning at my general direction when he knew I wasn't looking. But I knew.

On Tuesday, as I crept down the stairs from the male dorm after another rambunctious night with Oliver, I found George lazily flipping through a jokebook at the fireplace. I knew it wasn't a secret, what Oliver and I were doing, but for some reason, encountering George post-shag made me nervous and kind of icky. After a lame attempt to look semi-decent (charm to flatten my hair, charmed a lavender scent, wore the sandals I was holding) I descended further down until I was in his periphery.

"Hey stranger," he said, eyes still transfixed on his reading material.

"Hey," I said walking consciously towards the couch.

"You don't have to stay, if you're tired." He said, barely looking up then looking down, freckled cheeks flushed like he was embarrassed to imply something. If it was Alicia who saw me, she probably would have outright said, "Go shower. You smell like sex."

"No, I'm good," I said, stifling a yawn that almost escaped my mouth. "How have you been?"

"I'm fine, thanks. And you?"

"Great."

Merlin, this was more awkward than I had imagined. We were talking like we were acquaintances - not two people who knew each other since we we started school and practically spent each waking moment together.

"Umm so, what have you been upto these days?"

"Well, funny you ask that," he closed the book and tossed it on the table. "You might've forgotten Angelina's birthday. We've been organizing it."

"Fuck!" My hand flew to my mouth. "I completely forgot."

"I know. We're having the party tomorrow at the ROR, of course."

"Is there anything I can still do to help?" I offered, sheepishly. We still haven't made eye contact.

"We've got it covered. And you'd be happy to know that I did sort out your present for Angelina."

I lept forward and hugged him. His ears turned pink. "You're the best."

"I've been telling you that for years," he grinned, his eyes finally meeting mine.

"I sort of missed you, you know that?" I smushed his cheeks together and returned to my side.

"Sort of?" He clutched his heart, feigning dejection. "Well, I do miss you. And I'm quite positive about that."

I think it was my ears that turned pink this time.

"So." He stood up, smoothing his pajama bottoms down. "I'm hitting the hay. I'll save you your spot for breakfast."

I called out "okay," as I watched the fiery mess of hair disappear behind the staircase, smiling to myself.

Day 16 – Angelina's Birthday

I have to say it gave me sick pleasure that Angelina, usually all-knowing, was oblivious to the fact that she was having quite possibly the best birthday ever in a few hours time. At this very moment, we have completely deserted her in the common room, with an ally, Lee Jordan, talking her ear off about the next Quidditch match. Of course, my unavailability in recent past had rendered me gobshite useless during the pre-planning stage, but I am here now, and I am setting up Fred and George's own brand of party favors in a corner of the RoR – Magical Mustache Growers, Levitating Hats, Inflatable Tongue, and whatever else is in the other box I haven't even started yet. Still puzzled how the twins manage to create these things in their room. Usually it smells bad up in there anyway (typical teenage boys), so that should be due to all the chemicals, potions, and whatnot. Far be it from me to assume it's just their body odours. Hmm.

"Hey Kate," George hopped up and sat on the table I was setting up, causing some of the boxes to wiggle. He was looking dapper today, wearing a crisp white shirt with a kitcshy looking bow tie, but I was too worried he would ruin the table so compliments were not in order.

"Don't mess up the merchandise," I chastised, pushing him out of the way.

"Feeling blue?"

"Uh, no."

"You sure look it." He said cryptically and skipped away to the buffet spread which Alicia was organizing with some kitchen eleves. I knew I tend to have a scowl on my face when I am concentrating, but I was wondering why he said I looked blue of all things. Then, panic rose in me as I felt a cool sort of liquid on my hand and noticed the leak from a bungled box of Weasley's Skin Color Changer that I had just propped up.

I made a beeline to the water closet. True enough, my skin tingled as a troubling blue hue crept from my hand, up my arm and blue patches started appearing across my jaw.

"GEORGE WEASLEY!" I shrieked as I stormed out of the toilet and barreled into him with the force of a pack of centaurs.

"Shittt," he said, holding on to me as we both fell on one of the colourful bean bags, which exploded unexpectedly from our weight.

"Ow!" I hit my knee on the ground, while George seemed to have abosrbed majority of the pain on his back and elbow.

"BLOODY HELL!" Fred's voice boomed from one end of the room, tiny little beads from the bag rolling towards his shoes. George and I froze mid-struggle, as Fred walked up to us.

"In the name of Merlin, will you two bloody behave." It was the first time I've ever seen him this serious. I was quite impressed.

"Sorry Fred," I muttered, pushing myself up in a standing position.

"Crikey. I don't think I've heard that one before." George said with a snort. I extended a hand, which he took, and pulled him upright.

"Don't get used to it." Fred called back, pointing his wand forcefully towards the mess and the bean bags stitched themselves back up and into place.

I spent the entire party in my blue-skinned glory and I suppose it complimented the orange dress I chose to wear that night. Apparently, the tint will only dissipate after six hours and with a glass of water every hour.

"No sex for you tonight," Alicia teased.

"Obviously," I said, after which George came around with two bottles of butterbeer. One for me and him.

"None for me? Message received." Alicia left with a huff. I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Where's Cho, by the way?" I turned to George, who just took a swig of his drink, a bit of yellow fizz escaping the side of his lips. He wiped it with the back of his hand

"I don't know," he said, placing an arm over my shoulder.

"Oookay," I shot him a confused look. "I don't think she'll take it too kindly if she finds you with your arm around me like this."

"Highly doubt she'll be threatened by a pesky cornish pixie." He withdrew his arm and dodged the punch I threw at him. "And, we're no longer seeing each other."

"Oh really…" I said, a sick grin creeping on the side of my lips. "I mean, that's awful."

"Alright, don't pretend you're all heartbroken," he tickled the side of my ribs and I squirmed away from him, laughing, victorious.

"I don't think she's quite over someone else," he shrugged.

I looked at him, intently. Suddenly, Oliver's face flashed in my head.

"And I'm not sure I am either," he said slowly, waiting for my reaction, and took another swig from his bottle.

I bit my lip, looking out into the distance and spotted Oliver by the front door, craning his neck to find someone, me, I think.

"Stay," George said softly, refusing to meet my eye as though he felt guilty muttering his request.

"George, I…"

But before I could finish, Oliver has already arrived, stating, "You're blue!" before planting a firm kiss on my cheek, a gesture of affection, and quite possibly – because we're in the presence of George – ownership.