Chapter 8

Lying on the floor of the Stone Bridge Tower I looked up at the ceiling above me. It was late and I knew that I probably wouldn't be back before curfew, but I tried not to think about that, tried to live in the moment. I still felt very full from all the pastries I had had with Graham and sick enough to be unable to form a coherent thought anyhow.

I gazed up at the rounded ceiling in my gruesome stupor. Like many of the Hogwarts castle ceilings, this one had been embellished with an enormous illustration. I didn't believe many students of the school had even noticed it was there, mostly because people hardly ever went here. I didn't blame them, as it wasn't the most exciting of towers. I only went here because it was closest the tower to my dorm. With a school as grand as this one, it was easy to miss little gems like this one.

Because this was the Stone Bridge Tower, and it was closest to the greenhouses, the painting featured things that related to nature, in service to that. In its centre, taking up more space than anything else, was a thunderbird with its wings flaunted. Half of the background depicted a thunderstorm, gradually turning into serene weather conditions on the other half. There was a wide range of different creatures and plants spread out across the painting. Pomona once told me that there were over a hundred bowtruckles placed throughout the picture. Whenever I lay there, which I did from time to time, I would try and spot one I hadn't spotted before.

I lay there for I don't know how long until I heard footsteps coming toward me. Someone was walking up the staircase and I prayed to Merlin it wasn't Mr. Filch as it was probably nearing curfew now. I was sort of scared as I lay there, not daring to move. I then further prayed that it wasn't Oliver when I realised that that could be a plausible explanation as well. PJ had after all thought that he wanted to speak with me. I tried to calm myself, thinking that it was irrational to assume that Oliver would be out of his dorm this close to curfew anyway.

But his figure was still the one that appeared at the top of the stairs. Funnily enough, for the first time this week, he brought with him a wave of relief. As it turned out, no matter how annoying Oliver Wood could be, I would much rather take him than Mr. Filch.

Despite the relief, I hadn't forgotten who he was and I proceeded to turn my attention back to the painting. I focused what was now a glare on the thunderbird above me.

Curtly I said, "I thought you were seeking PJ?" I tried not to appear awkward, even though it felt odd lying down in the middle of a conversation.

Trying not to look at Oliver I listened to his voice as he spoke, "Jansson you mean? I wanted to talk to her as you are not… um… but she told me that I'd better take it with you, and she referred me to this place." His voice was soft as he moved around the tower, not quite familiar with it. I once again tried not to pay his movements any attention.

My eyebrows fell into a frown. How come PJ didn't have my back? I gave a sigh, mostly for show, "So what am I doing now that's troubling you, Oliver?"

He'd been looking out a window, but now he stopped and turned toward me, but I stayed put, "I'm just curious as to what you're trying to pull." Tone no longer soft.

"What ever do you mean?" I asked with half interest.

"You can't book all week." Oliver said simply. So that was why he'd come here, honestly I was disappointed. I'd thought at least he'd have an acceptable reason for hunting me down.

My eyebrows were raised, "If that is the sole reason you came down here, then you need to sort out your priorities."

"It is the reason." He declared, and I might have detected a little bit of uncertainty in his voice.

I wasn't upset, I only felt tired. Tired by the fact that his plan didn't cut any deeper than yet again involving an attempt at antagonizing me. I just wanted it all to be over, this whole conversation. "I didn't mean to, okay?" I said calmly. "I booked loads of practises in stages and abruptly it came to my attention that I had unknowingly booked a greater percentage of the week than a single team is allowed to." I finally sat up and raised a finger, "However." I met Oliver's appearance and registered briefly that his clothes were as unkempt as usual, "I wasn't aware of this rule. So there you go, I didn't try and sabotage anything for you, I know you have an upcoming match and I wish you the best of luck. Case settled." I said and lay down again, expecting him to leave.

I stayed like that for a while, waiting for the sound of footsteps. But they never came. I waited a while longer, now feeling quite awkward again. Just leave, I thought. Then came a few cautious footsteps toward me. I heard him sit down.

"You know they tell you that." He said matter-of-factly. "Before you start, they tell you about the practise percentage."

I was taken with how not accusatory he was sounding, he still had that superior essence to him as he spoke, but there was something else to it, amusement maybe? "Yeah well, maybe I wasn't listening as usual." I said bitterly.

"Don't you care?" he asked curiously.

I sat up, giving him a view of only my back, "It's not really a choice that I have, whether or not I'm going to listen to someone."

"Concentration problem, huh?" Now he was even sounding compassionate, what was going on?

"Yeah. You could say that." I answered sarcastically while drawing my nail against the wooden floor, the Stone Bridge Tower was one of the few places that didn't have a stone cold floor and one of the reasons I liked it.

"Anyway." He said from behind me. "I don't think you should get yourself too down about it… anyone could make that mistake."

I turned around and faced him, "I'm not down about it. You're the one making a fuss."

"Right. All I'm saying is anyone could make that mistake." Oliver trained his eyes on mine.

"Stop making a fuss!" I made sure to say the words clearly so that he would understand each and every one of them. Who was the one with a concentration problem now?

Oliver tore his eyes from he for a second. He looked up at the painting and seemed to realise why I'd been staring at that it ceiling for such a great percentage of our interaction. He breathed in deeply, "I've made that mistake."

I finally understood what was being said, what was being admitted to me. He was admitting fault, and possibly trying to bond with me? It was one of those times when I got a glimpse of a genuine side of him that wasn't cold and analytical and aware of patterns and trends.

I almost smiled, but thought better of it. One wouldn't want to go too far. I decided to tease him instead, "Oh. Well… that's okay Oliver, like you said, it can happen to anyone." I threw his words back at him sarcastically.

Oliver smiled, and I noted that smiling was an okay thing to do. "Yes. I know. I've done it several times." He said proudly. I wasn't surprised by this fact, instead a smile spread across my lips when I pictured Madam Hooch confronting Oliver about it. When I turned my attention back to Oliver, he was looking insecure, "And… I also didn't realise I was doing it…"

Once again it seemed he was implying something, yet I wasn't sure as to what it was. "Like you said, it could happen to anyone." I repeated once more.

Oliver switched in his place, "Yeah… or I mean… I guess it could happen to anyone, but it doesn't really happen to most people. Although now, it's happened to you." He cleared his throat and focused on me entirely, trying to make sure I understood, "What I'm saying is—"

"We're both pretty intense." I finished for him, half joking. I had finally understood what he was saying, possibly even why he had come to meet me. I wondered if Oliver even realised this himself or if he kept telling himself the same old thing he'd told me when I'd been lying down before. Despite the side of him that desperately wanted to make me into an enemy of his, there was also a side that saw similarities between us, similarities others had had to point out to me.

"Well..." He said under his breath, switching between my eyes. He had that look that one usually catches Dumbledore wearing, like he is analysing one's every move. I almost regretted sitting up and facing him.

"And then again maybe not." I further contemplated. "I was at your practise, remember? It was planned out to the minute. You guys were as automatic as the brooms you sat upon. Didn't look like much fun to be honest, and it's hard to make Quidditch look not-fun."

He paused and looked at the floor. He'd been this way ever since he sat down. Deep in thought, like he wasn't really there. When he spoke, he did so quietly and thoughtfully. "Quidditch is fun, I love the sport. But I also love the competition, the strategic parts of the game, maybe even more. But you're right, it's been long since the last time I flew simply because it was fun. I sort of longed for that when I watched your practise…" He admitted, and with a glint in his eye added, "Although your team was a mess."

"That's not true!" I hit his shoulder, "Besides, you caught us on a bad day! It was pouring down!"

At that he sort of woke up a bit, "Yes, and that's the thing!" he exclaimed passionately. "It was a bad day, yet your team was having a blast. You made me long for playing Quidditch just because it's fun to fly on a broom, or to be up in the air and not have an end goal with it — a plan."

I considered what he was telling me for a second. He was opening up to me slightly, and I should return the favour. Slightly. "…And I guess I couldn't hurt me to focus on the competitive part of the game as well as the fun part. It would be a nice service to the Hufflepuff team if we actually won for once." I mumbled.

Oliver smiled. He looked kind for once. But the moment was completely destroyed by what came next out of his mouth. "I feel for you. I almost want to help you win. Now, I won't though. Would never." He emphasized.

I pushed his shoulder harshly again and he almost fell back. "You fucking asshole! Don't for a second think that I would need your help to win."

He was fighting back a smile, and this time it didn't make me happy. He seemed like he wasn't hearing a word I was saying, like he was thinking of something entirely different. "Why. Won't. You. Ever. Sodding. Listen!" I said whilst pushing his shoulder rigorously. He was full on grinning at me now. His manner had changed at the playful touch, as if he was having fun and I realised that what he'd said might just have been intended as banter. Just then something clicked for me. He was enjoying this. This might be what he had wanted all along. He liked the rivalry. It was his way of connecting. Maybe that was why he had been ragging off my team in detention, hoping I would fire back. Maybe that's why he'd still come to wish me luck. Maybe it had actually been genuine.

"Because! You're not saying anything of remote interest to me." He fired back with a wide smile.

I actually smiled back then, my hostile feelings had gone away. "No, because if it's about anything besides Quidditch, not a word enters your head does it?" I slapped his head lightly, which ruffled his hair up and his hand instinctively went up to straighten it out. He always seemed to be doing that, fixing his hair. It bothered me because I liked his hair better when it was wild, like it would be right after he left the pitch, the wind having done its job perfectly. "I take it your O.W.L.s went well?" I finished sarcastically, staring at him.

Oliver had an intense look about him, with a smile still plastered on his face heat was radiating of him. I didn't know what had stirred it, but I didn't want it to stop so I thought best to continue on.

"I mean you're a sodding menace," I began. He waited expectantly for what was about to come. "I mean look at you!" I continued, motioning at him.

And next my body acted on its own accord.

Surprisingly I moved closer and began to button his shirt, while freaking out inside as to what I was doing. I decided to try and focus on getting the buttons sorted instead of trying to figure out why I was doing it. I carefully buttoned two loose buttons on Oliver's shirt, leaving the last one open to give him some breathing room and catching a glimpse of some of his smooth skin underneath in the process.

Oliver had frozen at the sudden close proximity. I decided to meet Oliver's sensitive stare for a moment.

I then lifted my hands toward his tie and he inhaled deeply. I straightened the tie and he willingly let me, raising his chin to give me access to it. I made sure I kept my head low to not meet his eyes again as we were quite close and I knew that that could get awkward easily.

I was about to tuck his shirt in but I managed to just stop myself upon recognizing that we weren't that close. Figuratively speaking.

"I'll let you do that part." I said instead and moved back again across the floor, raising my knees and folding my arms around them.

He did tuck his shirt, to my gratification. Not particularly well however and I was itching to get back over there again and finish his job for him as he left some of it un-tucked. Everything had gone quiet. Oliver had switched from fiery to cautious. He even looked a little puzzled. His hand flew up to his hair again, to sort it out.

"It's late." I said. "Or it seems so a least. I mean, it's dark out, so it must be late." I paused. "It's probably late."

Stop talking, I told myself mentally while in the motion of standing up to leave. Upon standing I felt how cold I'd become during the hour spent here. I wanted to leave quickly, get back to my common room, where I hadn't set foot since this morning. The thunderbird still hung over us. Oliver was watching it, probably out of a lack of other options since he didn't want to meet my eye.

"Goodnight." Oliver said, not moving a muscle.

"Yeah, see you later." I said while backing away, before making the brave decision of leaving without him.

Out and about and inhaling the fresh air of the corridor again it felt like I'd been under water for some time and that I was finally allowed to breathe again. I felt tense as I walked, but gradually it ran off me and a smile began to form. I smiled the whole way back to the badger sett and the smile didn't falter once. As I got into bed and tried to relax, I felt a minor ache in my cheeks. I had been smiling a lot more during the course of the day than I'd realised.

12 September 2018

A/N: Did you like/dislike anything about this chapter? Please let me know!