Chapter 1

Dancing in Scarlet

A series of one-shots featuring my favorite couple and their communication woes. I wrote this almost a decade ago, before my frontal lobe was what it is today, so I'm in the process of an overhaul.

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine.


I knew it was Katie because of how she stood, sliding back behind the other girls in her year with her weight shifted onto one hip as though she was seeking the wall behind her. Her eyes flitted across the overzealous winter decorations with awe.

She was wearing a red dress.

My throat was dry. I swallowed.

Her dark hair was up off her neck, little pieces escaping the confines of her hair clips. She turned away from where I was standing uselessly next to the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan, and I felt my chest clench uncomfortably like she'd tugged on an invisible string as she walked away.

"...and that's why Oliver Wood is a stupid, stupid boy," I heard above the rushing in my ears. I blinked, spell broken, and glared at Fred.

Fred grinned impishly. "Tell us, dear Captain, were you ogling anyone in particular, or are our conversational skills lackluster?"

I muttered something about getting some punch and left the three idiots to their usual plotting. I had come to the Yule Ball alone by choice. Felicity Stokes, a Hufflepuff in my year, had made it clear with her unflinching attentiveness in Charms class the other week that an invitation from me to be her Yule Ball date would have been welcome. I couldn't understand what had spurred me to ignore her advances - she was very pretty and exceedingly kind.

I wandered toward the side of the hall, pulling my dress robes away from my neck as I was overcome by a rush of nausea. What in Merlin's name is going on?

I found solace in an old armchair that faced a roaring fireplace, stretching my legs under a low table covered in silver tinsel. Here, at least, I could escape from the chaos of the evening. My thoughts kept returning to Katie's exposed shoulders, the delicate curve of her neck, the calloused chaser's hands running absently over the bodice of her gown. I wasn't sure how long I was lost in this line of thought; my eyes traced the orange flames for long enough that the world around me went blue and white.

"Tired already?"

I sat up quickly, banging my knee against the leg of the table and swearing colorfully.

Katie Bell leaned against the wall. There she was, leaning again. Her grin was a little lopsided, "Don't worry, Captain, I won't tell."

"Hey Kates," I said casually, clearing my throat and sitting up so I didn't look like an absolute prick, "How's your evening?"

She shrugged, "I'm not the biggest fan of large social gatherings."

I nodded in understanding. I tried not to stare as the way that she crossed her arms pushed her chest up toward her collarbones. No, Oliver, I thought, mortified. I looked around for anything else to stare at, anything at all.

"Are you thinking through your Quidditch drills on a night like this, Captain?" I met her gaze, feeling my face warm. Her eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Yeah," I let out at last. A choked little word. Very smooth, Wood.

The look she gave me was pitying. Her Quidditch captain, so out of his depth at a school function that he couldn't even socialize without the crutch of the game. I wished that was the extent of it.

"Care for a dance?" She held out her hand.

I was nearly two years older than her. I was her Quidditch Captain. Inappropriate. I stammered these thoughts incomprehensibly, and she rolled her eyes.

"Come on," she grasped my hand, her small fingers wrapping around my wrist as she yanked me up from my chair, "You're making me sad, get your grumpy Scottish ass to the dance floor, Wood."

It wasn't an upbeat song that was playing as we stepped into the throng of couples spinning around in the middle of the hall. It was some kind of waltz, maybe. Wonderful. I ground my teeth as Katie placed my hand on her waist, catching my other hand in hers. If I looked over her head I could almost pretend she wasn't several centimeters from my chest, her body giving off a dizzying warmth.

"You have to move your feet," there was laughter in her voice, and a fondness, too. It was almost worse than indifference. I stepped to the left, following her lead.

"This is why I don't dance," I said gruffly, "Not a single broom in sight, no wings open for a quick pass on the diagonal." I tried to play it to my advantage that she was seeing me as an inept Quidditch fiend, rather than an extremely affected teenage wizard with minimal self control in the presence of extreme confusion.

Katie said nothing. She looked up at me with her head tilted a little to the side, eyes roaming my face curiously.

I had no idea what that meant, but I didn't get far into parsing it out before she spun herself out of my arms, stretching out until just our fingers entwined before spinning back into my chest. I gulped. Her entire body pressed against mine and it took all of my willpower to keep my feet moving in time with the music. The scarlet of her skirt moved gently in waves of red between us.

"Impressive," I managed, "where'd you learn to do that?"

Katie put distance back between us, and the cold was immediate.

"It's not that different from Quidditch," she admitted, "In a way I guess that makes you my dance instructor."

"If I'm your dance instructor, you must be a prodigy," I said brusquely, "No way that I taught you that."

The song ended abruptly, and the master of ceremonies' garbled voice echoed around the hall. We stepped off the dance floor, still arm in arm.

Katie looked up at me, a smile tugging on her lips, "You're a passable dancer, Wood."

She kissed my cheek. Time froze, her rose petal lips rested coolly against my face for a thousand years, and no time at all. I hoped I wasn't gaping like a fish.

Then she was waving at Alicia Spinnet, who was leaving the dance floor with her date. Katie turned to me before she wandered off, squeezing my arm gently.

"See you at practice, Captain!"

I watched her walk away, another piece of dark hair that I hadn't noticed earlier curling against the back of her neck. All at once, the last five minutes came roaring back with clarity. It was as if I'd been in a dream and only now woke up, heart hammering against my chest.

Ahhhh, bollocks.


This is a 2024 rewrite. Thanks for reading!