I have a surprise for you guys. At the end of the chapter. After the chapter, to be exact. You can't miss it. It's exciting.

Fun Fact: Aly's name is probably the most perfect name for a character that I've ever created.
Aletta - Winged One
Ashling - Dream, vision (Almost all the dreams in this story have symbolic meaning.)
Darling - After Wendy, Micheal, and Peter Darling from Peter Pan, the magical trio who learn to fly.

One week since I not-kissed Wood. One week, and that's all it took for me to vote myself, officially, the sorriest girl in existence. I get panic attacks every time Wood walks by, a fact that inevitably restarted rumors. I mean, just because Wood passed me in the hallway and I fainted at that moment doesn't mean he and I are dating! It means I'm allergic to Wood's cologne.

Yes, what was once physical repulsion is now an allergy. That's how desperate I am to deny that something as simple as a crush is happening. I mean, there is no transitory affection going on. How could there be - I still haven't bothered looking up what transitory means!

Of course, with the recent super-sized panic attacks, I've felt the never-ending urge to go flying. But there are only certain hours that I'm allowed to change, and even then I can't always do it because the students would start to notice.

So what option does that leave me? Either I deal with it, which is a fat chance, or I go flying on a broom. Not a problem, right? I can just stroll down to the Quidditch Pitch and ASK WOOD TO BORROW A FREAKIN BROOM!

To make matters worse, Siren's so close to getting with this guy it's driving me crazy, Willow somehow got involved in the Susan/Penny altercation, and Tom is slowly getting too friendly with me in the common room. And yes, for all of you who are wondering, I do still want to kiss Wood.

But I don't, cause it'd be completely and totally disgusting. I'd have to shower for a week, and then whoever I share my bathroom with would complain and bang on the door and be generally obnoxious.

No, no, kissing Wood is specifically out of the question. As is any other physical contact, aside from the occasional brush of hands when he gives me my broom and when he carried me to Pomfrey. I guess possibly saving my life gives him the right to... cradle me.

That came out so wrong. Not cradle me, but, you know... ugh, I give up. Nothing works anymore in my head, and I've got a continual migraine. Just leave me alone.

"Hey Tom," I groaned, dragging myself through the hallway and into our common room. I just want to die.

"Evening, Aletta," Tom replied, using my full name in a clipped, snippy tone, "You've forgotten our meeting?"

My brow furrowed - all I wanted to do was go to bed, a feat I was halfway through when Tom said the 'm' word, "We moved all meetings to Monday night for simplicity's sake."

"So?"

"Tom, isn't it Thursday?"

"Yes."

"Then how can we possibly have a Head's meeting?"

I seriously just wanted to go cry in my room. Call it hormones, being over-dramatic, but really, life isn't working out right now. I can feel the blood throbbing through every part of my body, and my eyes are burning just from the effort put forth in being open. Don't make me think in addition.

"Not a Head's meeting - remember? After Charms, I asked you to meet me here."

Tom slowly started to move towards my staircase, where I was leaning. I felt a tendon in my leg start to pull - a sure sign that I desperately need sleep. I didn't even have enough energy to be nervous enough to tug at my hair, much less actually get my hand up.

"You were serious?"

"Intensely," Tom replied, his voice deepening as he leaned his hand against the wall just in front of me, sticking his nose into my face, "This is your last chance. My revenge is in it's final stretch; I've all but caught the Snitch; I'm rounding third and-"

"Tom what are you talking about," I whined. Really, just stop, everyone.

"I told you Darling; you'd be sorry for leaving me the way you did."

"Not this again."

My head fell against the wall, but Tom grasped my chin and brought my face back up to his. "Of course this again, did you think I'd forget? No, no, I've been working too hard to make sure your life is a living hell."

I half-raised an eyebrow at him, "Do you start the rumors about me and Wood?"

"Not really, no."

"Do you assign me more homework than is humanly possibly for an exam that I don't even think matters all that much?"

"Well, no," Tom confessed.

I started to duck under his arm, my feet shuffling up the stairs, "Then you're losing the race."

It took Tom the entire stairway to come up with a response, "You will be sorry. Just because it hasn't taken affect, yet, doesn't mean it won't. I know you, Darling, I know just where you're weak, and you'll get it. You'll get it good! You'll never know what hit you!"

By the time I slammed my door shut behind me, I was awake. I wish I could brush his threats off as merely empty, but I've known Tom too long. He doesn't forget, and he's just spoiled enough to think that he can get everything he wants by throwing a big enough temper tantrum.

I also became acutely aware of the fact that I wouldn't be able to sleep as long as I had this pounding headache keeping me awake. What I really needed was to go for a nice long flight around the lake. While crying and eating chocolate ice cream. Now that sounds like a plan I could get amped about.

I wonder if Wood would let me have ice cream on a broom. Aw, who are we fooling, I'm the worst Head Girl ever - I don't care about rules.

I smiled to myself as I tromped down the hill, overcast clouds obscuring the sun beams. Sticking my tongue out, a giant drip of chocolate ice cream assaulted my taste buds. God, I love House Elves. Honestly, there is nothing better than getting House Elf, handmade ice cream. Plus, if you're polite, they'll give you a massage while you wait.

The Quidditch Pitch lay dead ahead of me, Wood's office fire flicking sporadically through the window. At least I won't have to go searching for him. I don't want to think about what will happen if I have to ask someone where Wood is. Of course, I don't want to think about it because thinking is painful. And evil, decidedly.

By the time I reached Wood' door, I was finished my ice cream cone and ready to fly or, conversely, faint. I was still swallowing the flavor when Wood opened the door, "Darling."

Wood's smile fell as I started, "Hey Wood, can I-"

"Dear Merlin, Darling, you look horrible. What's that all around your mouth?"

I galred at him, cursing him and his big mouth for the umpteenth time, "Chocolate ice cream."

"Chocolate ice cream? It's freezing out, and where are your robes?"

Alright, so I'm only in my vest and skirt and long-sleeved shirt - the robe is uncomfortable and trips me! "In my room, Wood. Can I borrow a broom?"

Wood leaned passed me out the office, "You aren't flying in this weather, Darling." I groaned, my mind already dreading the trudge up the hill. It'll probably start raining on my way up, too. Hell. "Darling, are you alright?"

The question almost physically threw me off balance. It was the first time someone had asked me that in, well, weeks. The last time was on the camping trip when I got angry at Wood. And for the first time in my life, well...

I kind of wanted to take Wood up on his unsaid offer to listen to my problems whenever I'm breaking down.

It was wrong, but I nodded anyway, Tom's threat coming foremost to my mind. Wood moved aside, "Well, come on in, I've got some tea on to boil."

I nodded again, moving passed him and towards the only thing to sit on that wasn't behind Wood's desk - a small, scarlet loveseat with golden tassels. No doubt homage to Wood's old house. Sighing, Wood closed the door behind me, turning his attention to the boiling kettle.

"Well, start from the beginning, then, Darling."

I sniffed, more from cold than actually behind upset as my hands finally found their way into my hair, "You don't mind?"

Wood looked over his shoulder, raising one bushy eyebrow at me and smiling gently, "If I didn't want to hear it, I wouldn't ask. Go on, the beginning, then."

I nodded, taking and trying to pinpoint where the beginning was. For a moment, I considered stating that it all started with elves, for amusement's sake, but decided against it. Joking seems so unnecessary right now.

I sighed contently as I strolled down the hill one week later, at a time when everything seemed more manageable. After confessing all my problems to Wood exactly seven days ago, I become so emotionally exhausted I fell asleep on the traitorous, Gryffindor-themed loveseat.

And ever since that day, I've been going down to get a broom and have a nice, casual conversation with Wood. If he weren't my professor, it would almost be like we were friends, or something. But it's not like that - I have these kinds of conversations with Flitwick, too. Wood is nothing more than a hot, Scottish Flitwick who I not-kissed a while ago. That's all.

But, secretly, I think I crave these times with Wood. He makes everything seem so simple, so casual, and yet so intense I wonder how he's the same person who cared about nothing outside of Quidditch so many years ago.

Knocking on the door, I smiled to myself. Today seemed like a nice day to fly - clear, sunny, and warm with that crisp-autumn feeling. "Who is it?"

I smirked, "The cutest Head Girl ever."

Alright, so maybe he and me are a little different than me and Flitwick. If Flitwick were younger, I would definitely joke like this with him, too. No doubt. But it'd be awkward to, because Flitwick is... married.

Before I could continue to muse in my head, Wood threw the door open, sucking in a breath as he caught sight of my face, "Oh, Darling."

"Uh, yeah, how many cute Head Girls do you have coming around here? I wanted to go flying," I finished, without bothering to hear Wood spit off tales about how many cute Head Girls come around here. We all know I'm the only one.

"Yes, well, er, I was hoping you could come in here. I have something I want to... talk about with you."

"Um, okay, Mr. I-had-some-bad-tea," I responded sarcastically, easily following him into his office. Strange, how having someone you can talk to easily changes how much better everything else seems. I closed the door behind me, turning back to Wood, "So, Wood, what's-"

And that's when Wood kissed me. Full on, pinning me to the door kissed me. It was more purposeful, more intense, and almost more fulfilling than I last remembered it. I should've pushed at his chest, or slapped his face, or told him to stop, or something.

But I was too shocked, too excited, too much lacking a heart beat and solider legs to fight back. Instead, all I could do was moan a little and run my hands up into his recently wind-blown hair. Had he been flying?

Oh, bloody hell, it doesn't matter, I decided as Oliver's lips found their way almost immediately to my neck, muttering obscenities the whole way down, which were jumbled by my scrambled brain and by Wood insistence on never taking his lips fully off me.

"Mucking bells, Darling, I grupping, Ferlin," I squirmed, and it was when I felt, of all things, the swoosh of my skirt at my thighs that I came to my senses. Here I was, in my school uniform, and I'd already been snogging a Professor for more than a few seconds!

I mean, I get it, I'm not the greatest Head Girl in the world, but this?! I read an announcement about this in the beginning of the year! It's completely, in every single solitary way, not allowed! Determined, finally, I started to push Wood off, ignoring the feeling of suction in my chest.

It didn't help at all that Wood was so determined, so single-mindedly sucking at my neck and gripping at my waist, that I'm pretty sure he didn't even feel me pushing at him. "Wood, Wood, we have to stop."

"Mike loody shell, we do," Wood slurred into my neck, his lips dancing their way across my collarbone.

"No, Wood, stop it, really," I could feel myself start to beg, mostly because this was so... hard. Strangely so. Of course, Wood didn't listen - he's got to win at everything. Absolutely everything. Freaking prat. "Wood," I finally screamed, beating against his chest.

Wood laid one final kiss on my lips before pulling back, barely far enough for it to constitute as actually moving away. His body still pressed me firmly into the door, leaving me no escape. Not that I needed one. Wood isn't dangerous, just single-minded. Besides, talking this out now might help this never happen again. At least not 'til I'm graduated.

I mean, I thought we had this straightened out before, but apparently not. Maybe I shouldn't introduce myself as the cutest Head Girl ever. That could give the wrong impression.

"Aly," I sucked in a breath at my first name, "Don't start lecturing me."

He whispered it against my lips, a distinct difference between my upset almost-squeal, "What do you want me to do, Wood? This is just plain wrong."

"Really? That's what you'll call this? Cause I've been thinking about it for four long months, and it isn't going away. Believe me, I want more than anything for this to go away. It complicates everything for me exponentially."

"And it doesn't for me? Wood, please, just... no. No, there isn't even anything I can say to justify it!"

"Aly, I crave you," Wood responded, like that was going to justify it.

I scoffed, trying to ignore the almost electric surge that the words, Wood's breath puffing against my face, sent through me, "Do you burn, pine, and perish too?"

Wood's brow furrowed, his eyes closing painfully at my mocking, "Aly-"

"Stop calling me that! I'm Darling, remember? Head Girl, really bitchy, hates Quidditch. I hate Quidditch, Wood! How does that make you feel?"

"Like kissing you again," Wood replied, his eyes opening and boring back down into mine.

I nearly choked before I could respond, "That's just... it's wrong, alright!"

"Why, because I'm your teacher? I teach First Years how to ride a broom and I referee the Quidditch Games; I'm hardly a part of the staff."

"No, no, you're a very big part of the staff, and a part of the staff that I shouldn't be snogging!"

Wood smirked, "Well, if you yell it any louder, I won't be a part of the staff, anymore. Then we'll have no more reasons against this, won't we?"

No, no we won't. "Yes, yes we will!"

Wood smirked down at me, one of his hands finally tearing itself away from my side and smacking into the door next to my head, "Oh? What?"

"Uh, you're disgustingly older than me?"

"Four years, plus an extra bit. We're not even in different generations."

"Well, there's the problem that I don't like you."

Wood arched an eyebrow at me, "You don't?"

"No," I responded, and that was all the time it took for Wood to swoop back down, ultimately proving his point.

Because I do like Wood. I like Wood a lot.

Oh, mucking bell.

I made you guys a surprise, in the way of a music video. For all of you who read my Supernatural Fanfics, you'll know that I've been making them videos for a while. Wordlessly, I've been searching around for a place to download clips of Harry Potter and John Tucker Must Die.

I never mentioned it because I thought it would never happen. But it did. Link is in my homepage, along with a link to another banner.