Hey everyone. Sorry this took a while, but it was kind of hard to write. It's my first time ever writing something like this, so I hope you enjoy it. Happy Reading. Remember to review! Thanks!

Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter and all it's characters do not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The glazed cherry wood of the Gryffindor changing room glistened in the light of the torches. Rows of lockers lined the room parallel to matching benches. To the left of the large room towards the back where the shower stalls were, I heard a steady stream of water and saw steam rise above the frosted door.

Slowly, my feet silent against the hardwood floor, I made my way over to the pane of glass covered in steam. On the front was a large Gryffindor crest. I could barely make out an unmoving silhouette within the stall.

Turning, I looked around the room carefully. It was completely empty. Everyone must have been in the hospital wing with Harry. From the way lockers had been thrown open and emptied, it looked as if none of them were planning on returning. On the bench in front of Oliver's closed locker, someone had lain out his drenched cloak, caked in mud. Sighing, I sat next to it, running my fingers over the soiled ruby fabric.

Oliver must be heartbroken. He was probably drowning away his sorrows in the shower. My entire body ached thinking about his sadness. Slowly, I slipped off my cloak and let it lay on the bench next to his.

Standing up, I began to undo my tie. I let my clothes fall to the floor and wrapped a thick ruby towel around my body. My feet bare against the cool floor, I made my way to the stall door. Silently, I pulled it open.

Oliver didn't move. His palms were flat against the wall before him, his back to me. The water fell over his head. His breathing was slow and heavy as I watched his back arch up and down. His toned body was tense, yet his head fell limply under the stream in defeat.

My heart fluttered in anticipation. I wasn't exactly sure what to do. Percy and I had never gotten this far, and Oliver didn't even know I was there thinking of what I wanted to do. So I stood there, clutching the towel, just watching his every move. Finally, I let the door close behind me with a snap.

His head lifted slowly, as if in disbelief, then cautiously, he turned. The shock in his face made me look away, but my eyes lifted again to his. He didn't try to hide himself, and neither of us seemed ashamed or embarrassed. It was merely the surprise of my appearance and in the manner in which I went about it that shocked him.

"Penelope, what are you doing here?" He stammered, looking me over from top to bottom. Then his eyes unclouded and softened. His beautiful lips curved down and caused his face to wrinkle. Tears swelled as he swallowed deeply and sucked in his breath.

"Oliver..." I knew it wasn't the disappointment of losing. I knew him too well. That was the last thing on his mind.

"I let him fall. I let him drop, Penelope. He was my responsibility. I was too busy with my own worries. I let him fall. I should have been there. I let him fall! I couldn't save him!" His face contorted and he choked on his words. His tears mixed with water and he shook his head roughly.

I went to him, embraced him and buried my face in his neck. Feeling him so closely to me, with only a towel between us, sent a rush of heat through my body. His arms wrapped themselves strongly around me, holding me as if I could make the pain go away. The water splashed over both of us now, the warmth mixing with our bodies.

"Oliver, I'm so sorry. It's not your fault. You were the only one who tried. You tried. It's not your fault. Harry will be alright." I whispered urgently, trying to make him understand. The longer he was in pain, the longer I was. I could never live with him in sorrow.

He shook his head and his cheek rubbed against mine. My fingers traced his back as water ran over them. I slowly started to kiss his shoulder as his arms tightened.

"Penelope, I love you so much," He whispered into my hair. I could only nod as I pushed myself against him harder. His head bent down and our lips found each other. I pushed myself up on the balls of my feet to lean into his lips and make our kiss deeper. Slowly, the towel fell from around me and slipped to the tiles below us. Nothing separated us as our skin met, water flowing around us and over our bodies.

We kissed feverishly, as if we would never hold each other again. He ran his fingers through my hair as water soaked it. It reminded me of our first real kiss in the alley behind Honeydukes. I completely let myself go, giving myself completely to him. I let the rain wash away all doubts and troubles. All I needed at that moment was him, and all I needed at this moment was him again. I was ready and willing to give myself to him with no second thoughts or worries. I needed to follow my heart. It was the only thing I owed responsibility to.

He pushed me against the wall, warmed by the steam. Still, the tiles and his touch sent shivers through my spine. His hand cupped my face as we continued to kiss passionately, and his other hand explored my body. He softly caressed me in ways Percy had never dared. It wasn't forward; it was loving and warm. My own hands glided over his body, trying to touch every inch of him in attempts to bring him closer to me.

I was losing myself in his deep kisses, when suddenly he pulled away. I tried to push my head up and forward to find his lips again, but he held back. My eyes opened to see his straining face and troubled eyes.

"Penelope, are you sure you want to do this? I don't want to do anything you don't want to do." He swallowed deeply, his breath hard.

I couldn't understand how he would even think that after coming this far I would want to stop. Did he want to stop? I looked into his eyes and saw the desire building behind them. It was driving me mad just to be waiting these few seconds. How could he possibly be waiting so calmly? I was about to ask him what he wanted, when I felt him rub against my leg, answering my question. His body quivered and the heat within mine rose. I slung my arms around his neck, bringing him down to me and began again to kiss him feverishly.

He moaned into my mouth but we both refused to pull away. Firmly, he lifted me up against the wall the same way he had done in the alleyway, our lips never parting. One hand cupped my breast, massaging it fiercely, as his other continued to graze my body. He positioned himself between my legs, the tips of his fingers running up my thigh. It sent chills through my body which burst into flames of passion. I craved his touch, I needed to be as close to him as possible.

Finally our mouths parted as he brought his lips to my chest, gently sucking and nibbling. My soft moans forced my lips to part into groans. My fingers ran through his hair and over his shoulders as he continued, the water lapping over our bodies in a warm blanket.

"Oliver...I need you." I panted between my groans of desire. His nibbling ceased as his kisses rose from my chest, over my neck and back to my lips. My hands cupped his face as I hungrily attacked his lips. The fire within me was building to a point where I no longer could stand it. "Oliver!" I moaned during breaths between our kiss.

Just when it seemed I wouldn't be able to stand it anymore, I felt him push against me. In one smooth motion, his hips pushed forward and we became one. Our heads were thrown back as we both moaned. My muscles tightened around him and relaxed as he began to pull out slowly. Gingerly he began moving in and out as we both moaned in ecstacy.

Between our moans we would chant each others names as Oliver's thrusts became faster. His hands were placed firmly on my hips, then rose over my chest and glided over my arms to entwine his fingers within mine. Pressing his palms to mine, the back of my hands pressed against the tiles above my head.

Oliver pushed harder and deeper, and as he became faster it seemed the water fell quicker. The stall seemed to spin as my moans became screams of passion. I would either yell his name or scream in the inability to do anything else.

The pleasure of him inside me drove me to near madness, which I was sure would overtake me if it wasn't for the delicious feeling of passion. My fingers tightened around his as the feeling inside me rose to new heights.

The rhythm of our movement surprised me, as we moved with expertise. I had no idea how many times Oliver had done this before, but for me it was a first. Yet I seemed to be moving as if I had done this hundreds of times with other lovers. My body moved atop him in ways that made us both gasp and groan.

Our kisses were short, unable to go long without panting and taking deep breaths. Instead Oliver nibbled at my body, sucking and licking in desirable places, learning what spots would make me quiver. There wasn't much I could do with my hands, him keeping them pinned above me, and my mouth was above his. Still, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, I managed to slip them between his legs and stroke his thigh. It made him groan and his legs buckle slightly, but that only made him push harder in pleasure.

Soon, our moans and screams grew, rising above the stall door and echoing into the changing room. Our ecstacy rose and climbed to its highest peak and Oliver thrust deeper into me. I screamed enjoyably, clenching against him as he called out my name and collapsed against me. A warmth filled within me as our breathing slowed.

His head rested against my chest and his eyes closed, a soft smile on his lips. I let my cheek fall to the top of his head, the way he always held me. Our arms fell and he wrapped his around me tightly, still holding me up. He reached out and finally turned off the shower.

We stood that way until our breathing became normal again. The feeling of our fiery passion still within me, I kissed the top of his head gently. His face rose to mine and his eyes opened, the same soft smile on his lips. Our lips met tenderly as he slowly lowered me to my feet. I wobbled slightly, still trembling from the immense pleasure.

Softly, we both lowered ourselves to the floor, him embracing me strongly. I rested my head against his toned chest, listening to his heart beat. My arm made its way across his torso and we held each other.

"Penelope, I love you." He whispered.

"Oliver, if you never said the words again for as long as we lived, I would still know that you loved me by the way you hold me." I smiled and stroked his chest, placing a soft kiss on it.

"Penelope..."

"Yes, Oliver?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

He nuzzled his cheek into my hair and we sat that way, just holding each other tenderly. I gazed at his strong hands around me. Finally, I noticed the gold band around his finger.

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?" he moaned gently into my hair.

"What's that?"

"What's what?" he murmured sleepily.

"The ring, around your finger. What is it?"

He picked up his hand and examined it as if he had to see the band to remember what it was.

"Oh, my ring. Right. My father gave it to me. It was his, and his father's before that, and so on. It has a special charm that has it resize to whoever's finger it truly belongs to. You see, it's a family tradition. When the time is right, the one who has the ring places it on the finger of the one the ring is going to. If it's truly meant to belong to that person, the ring will size itself to fit that person's finger. It's almost like a right-of-passage. I got it when I was four years old and I flew my first broomstick. Father was so proud." He chuckled at the memory and I smiled. He spoke so fondly of the ring, it was obviously something that meant a lot to him.

"There's more. Watch." He positioned his hand in front of my face to see the ring. I lifted myself and watched closely. He swiped his thumb over the band. I thought he was trying to wipe the water off of it, so I waited for him to do something, but when he didn't make a move, I turned to look at him. He merely nodded at the ring, "Watch." To my surprise, an engraved ruby form appeared on the band. It took the perfect shape of a broomstick, then glided around the ring.

"Oliver, that's amazing! I've never seen anything like that." I looked again to the ring and saw thin strips begin to form, spelling out in beautiful calligraphy, "Oliver Wood."

"It's wonderful, Oliver. Really remarkable." I settled myself again against his chest and his arms wrapped themselves again around me.

"Yeah, they don't make these types of things anymore. It's been in my family for generations...Penelope, did you hear anything about Harry before you came here?" He asked slowly, almost afraid of the answer.

"Yes, Oliver. He'll be fine," I answered, glad to be able to comfort him. "The ground was soft from the rain. He's probably already awake and being healed."

"Thank Merlin. I don't know what I would have done if...I should have been there. I should have been on the field watching. Every player wearing the Gryffindor badge is my responsibility. I have to be sure they're alright at all times."

"Oliver, you know that's not true. Quidditch is a dangerous sport and you know that! Everyone on that field, yourself included, knows the danger when they put on their uniform. It's not up to you to be sure that everyone is always safe. You can't always keep your eye on everyone. And don't tell me that you always have before. People are constantly injured and you can't beat yourself up about it every time."

"I know, but...I wasn't on the field when it happened," he moaned sorrowfully, then, his voice darkened, "Penelope, seeing him looking at you like that...if it wasn't for what happened with Harry, I honestly might have killed him."

"Don't say that. You know it isn't true." The fact was, I wasn't even sure it wasn't true.

"Still...I should have been there for Harry. If I was on the field and watching the game, I would have made it to him in time," He sucked in his breath and rub his cheek against my hair again, "I could have helped him."

I didn't know what to say. Any comfort I could try to give him would just keep his mind on it more.

I entwined my fingers in his again and sat silently, thinking of the way our paths had crossed. I had never thought that after that first time on the staircase, I would again be in Oliver Wood's arms. He had somehow saved me and brought me to life with his kisses and his love. I could hardly even remember why I had constantly pushed him away. Still, he always forgave me and ran after me. I couldn't remember any other time a person had run after me. It was always me who had to sulk back and apologize. How could I ever show him as much love as he showed me? Could I ever be as understanding? If he were to ever scream and storm away, I don't know if I would even have the strength to run after him; I would be too heartbroken. How many times had I crushed this boy's heart, and still he had the will to try again?

I clutched to him and he instinctively tightened his grip. Looking at his ring, I ran my finger over it, wanting to see his name again, to be sure this was real, and I was really with this amazing boy. But nothing happened. I almost would have panicked if I hadn't been laying in his arms.

"It only works when I do it," he whispered. "It only works for the one the ring belongs to." I smiled as I watched the broom shoot around the band.

"Oliver, will you come to my room tonight? And spend the night with me?" I turned my head to gaze at him. He tucked in the corner of his mouth and his brow tightened.

"What about-"

"I don't care. I don't care about anything but you. I love you, Oliver, and I need you. I want you to come tonight. Please." I bit my bottom lip, anticipating his answer. If he didn't come, I'd be alone with the thought of Percy sleeping in the next room. I needed Oliver's touch and warmth.

"Hey, what did I tell you? Your lips are too pretty for you to be chewing on them. Put them here instead." He bent down and placed his lips on mine, gently kissing my worries away. "Of course I'll come."

"Oh, Oliver." My hand rose to his cheek and his eyes closed. He turned his head and kissed my hand, then tilted his head back against the wall, a content smile on his lips.

Nothing, not a single person or thing, could take away the moments of love we shared when we were in each other's arms.