Okay guys, this is the home-straight, the final stretch, the last innings: all those sports metaphors you know Oliver would love to use.
Again, many thanks to my reviewers:
MelodyPond77 – Where am I going to go from this?Apart from a huge congratulatory glass (bottle) of wine because I FINALLY FINISHED SOMETHING, it's funny you should ask – see the bottom of the chapter for more Where To From Here.
Gurl5678 and kiririri – your wish is granted ;P
Rae-rae89 – yay a new reviewer!I have a magpie-like tendency to collect shiny things – reviewers included.
EPILOGUE
Name: Oliver James Wood
Age: Glorious
Hair: Glorious
Current Location: My room, at home, because I've graduated and it's the holidays and it's-
Current Mood: Glorious
"Wake up Bell. Practice is on."
"Noooo Oliver," Katie moaned.
I pulled back my hangings sharply so the rungs make a shart 'shhhk' noise and the fabric swayed violently.
Bell rolled over, trying to turn away from my hand shaking her shoulder. The monster duvet swallowed up her form and most of my arm.
I fought through the blobby mass of feather-down duvet until I touched her arm. You think I'd have learnt by now: that's why I usually prod Bell with a broom instead of my precious limbs.
Because as soon as I made contact with her skin, Bell immediately seized my whole arm and twisted, throwing me.
I flew through the air faster than the Nimbus' acceleration speed, I swear.
But that's Bell. From dead asleep to homicidal in split seconds. She fires up like that on the Quidditch Pitch too.
I landed across the bed, bouncing slightly. I think I bumped Bell's legs with my own, because a slight 'oof' sound emanated from beside me. Once the after-shocks of my landing subsided, a muffled voice spoke from Within the Depths of the Duvet.
"If I let you stay, will you promise to shut up so I can sleep?"
"...Hmmmm..." I considered, making my hum as obnoxiously loud as possible. I probably sounded like a colony of Fizzing Whizzbees passing overhead.
That was when the duvet attacked me.
There was some grappling, a fair bit of smothering, a little rolling around and then somehow I was on flat on my back with most of the duvet bunched under me, and Bell was free above me, her wrists trapping mine. Her hair strands caressed my face, causing shivers down my spine.
"If I kiss you," she tried again, voice husky with sleep, "will you promise to shut up then?"
"Hmmm..." I said, softer this time. "...Temptin-"
I didn't finish because she'd already swooped in, her lips feather-soft. I could feel the teasing curl of her smile through the press of her lips. The duvet slid off her and to the floor as I reached up and wrapped my arm around her, crushing her close to my body.
"Good practice," I managed between kisses.
"You promised to shut up," she growled back.
Later, when the sun was properly up, Bell threw an arm over her face to shield her eyes and muttered, "There was no practice this morning, was there?"
"Nope," I grinned.
"It's the holidays, isn't it?"
"Yep," I grinned.
That didn't stop us from eventually heading out to the field behind my house just before lunch, brooms in hand, grass swishing around our knees. "Oh, Bell," I added as an afterthought before we took off.
"What?"
"I've decided to make you Quidditch Captain next year." I looked at her shocked face. "Now we're even."
END
OMFG TYPING THAT LAST WORD –
SUCH SATISFACTION
MUCH SADNESS
SO HAPPINESS.
If you enjoyed Wood and Bell's rocky/flirty banter, or if you're in the midst of a full-blown withdrawal attack (maybe that's just me), kindly allow me to soften the cruel blow of "No I in Team's" ending and point you in the direction of my rebound FF, "Once Bitten; Twice Shy". What new FF?The one where I take antagonism to new heights with a Draco/Hermione relationship. Oh, and (spoiler alert) Draco's a vampire.But he definitely doesn't sparkle. SORRY NOT SORRY. If this is making your buttons go muttons, here's a sneak-peek of an excerpt from the first chappie:
The room was brightly lit. So bright, she blinked several times to clear the shadows away.
On the bed sat Draco Malfoy.
OhMerlinhe'shere.
Just sitting there with the same sense of entitlement as a king on a throne.
Malfoy cast a baleful glare at her wand. "If you're here for revenge, Granger, I'm already dead, so put the fucking wand away."
Kill him?
Malfoy's alabaster brows slid together in a scowl. "Why are you here, Granger?"
Hermione sunk into a visitor's chair beside his bed, ankles crossed, wicker basket clasped in her lap. "I'm here to help you."
"You're fucking late to that party as well, Granger. I'm already dead. Shouldn't you have tried to make yourself useful and tried to prevent that?"
Hermione tightened her grip on the basket handle and gritted through her teeth, "Admittedly, I am rather behind on that front, but if you tell me who killed you, I'll be the first to-"
"-Launch an official investigation?" Malfoy interrupted with a scornful snort. "Remedy the situation?"
She plonked the hamper on the foot of his bed. "-Send them this Honeydukes hamper and a thank-you card."
Or, if you're a selective die-hard Katie-Oliver fan only, I do have an unofficial sort-of sequel rattling around in my head, which will pick up a few years after Hogwarts. Maybe drop me a review and let me know if that's something you could dig?