Author's Note: Well, hello again!! I'm sorry that this chapter wasn't out as quickly as I'd hoped it would be. I'm also sorry that it's not nearly as long as the last couple of chapters, but I sort of ran out of plot bunnies for this chapter and didn't want to make it endless and boring and pointless. So, it's a little shorter than I'd like, but hey, we get to hear more of Ollie's side of the story, so that's good, right? Anywho, thanks for reading, and leave a comment or two when you're through!! Enjoy!
I learned one thing very quickly as I was pinned up against that tree. And that was that Oliver Ewan Wood kisses like he sodding means it.
One would think that I would already know this. After all, I had the bad taste to date him once upon a time, and it wasn’t like we were just a couple of innocent second years at the time. Although, come to think of it, I know I wasn’t all that innocent when I was twelve, and I don’t think Oliver’s been innocent since he first discovered he had the power to melt females of all ages with his smile. I like to believe that he discovered this little tidbit the moment his mummy first held him in her arms.
So, like I said, one would think that my lips and Ollie’s would have been reasonably well-acquainted by the time he pinned me up against that tree, causing me to lose my hold on all my bags of sweets, not to mention the Quidditch kit (I don’t know what he did with his stuff).
If one thought that, one would be very, very wrong. My lips were not acquainted with his in the slightest, since he’d never really shown enough interest (not to mention we didn’t have the time to fool around because of Quidditch) in my person while we were dating that anything actually happened.
I tried to protest. No, really I did.
"Geroff me." I tried to shove him back so that I could make my escape. Oliver lifted his head from mine for a moment, and there was a hard, steely look in his eye that I was completely unaccustomed to.
"No." he said shortly. I tried to wiggle out of his hold, but he had me bloody flattened against that tree with his stupid manly body. I told myself that I wanted to hurl. It wasn’t working.
"No?" I asked incredulously. "No???"
His lips curved in a wry smile, but those eyes of his remained hard. "No." he repeated, grabbing my face in both hands this time. "I’ve bloody well waited long enough to do this, and I’m not waiting any longer, so fucking deal with it."
"Fucking get your hands off me, you pr—" I started, but he just covered my mouth roughly with his own.
To my credit, I resisted. I didn’t want to be pinned up against a tree; I didn’t want Oliver Sodding Wood kissing me like it was his only purpose in life. And I definitely didn’t want to be sucked into another emotional vortex with him. I didn’t want to stand there, helpless to do anything but submit.
But in the end, I ended up not getting anything I really wanted.
Unless you count the strange thrill of finding Oliver’s lips racing over mine. Then, I suppose, I not only got what I wanted, though it was about six months too late, but far more than I’d bargained for.
I’m not exactly a pristine white princess. I mean, yes, I’ve been snogged before. Yes, I’ve gotten caught at it, not nearly as often as Alicia, but often enough for my tastes.
But I’d never been snogged by Wood before. Even though I was furious with him for stringing me along, even though I wanted to be anywhere but with him, he was...enthralling. And somehow, I ended up kissing him just as eagerly as he was kissing me. I don’t know how long we stood there playing tonsil hockey, and I’m not bloody liable to ever ask (Oh, what an ego trip that would send him on). All I know is that his hands were steadily making their way down to my waist, then all the way up to my shoulders, and my hands were tangled in his hair. He made a low sound of appreciation, but we were both slightly too preoccupied to bother with forming words. Or thoughts, for that matter.
I’m pretty sure I still have bark imprinted on my backside, Oliver was pressing me so hard into that damn tree. But that’s just one of those hindsight things. At the time, I didn’t really care that trees are highly uncomfortable. I was just mindlessly snogging. And boy, did it feel good.
I mean, Oliver clearly knew what he was doing (guess all those fan girls of his are worth something after all), and he really seemed to enjoy being in charge for once. As I said, I don’t know how long we stood there, but we were most definitely interrupted, and quite rudely, I might add.
"Hey!" an irate voice shouted from somewhere behind me. With a great deal of reluctance, Oliver lifted his head from mine.
"We’re not done, Kenna." he muttered firmly. I glared at him. Just because I’d caved and let him kiss me, and just because the only reason I was still upright was because his body was supporting mine by pinning me in place, did not mean he got to call the shots from now on. Apparently, he could tell what I was thinking, because he just cocked one eyebrow and bent as if to snog me again. Fortunately for my state of mind, the voice got closer.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor." That same cool, annoyed voice came from over Oliver’s shoulder. I opened one eyelid, and the sight that met my poor vision was not one I ever care to see again.
"Oh for the love of Quidditch!" I yelped. Oliver turned around and immediately began cursing. Percy Weasley was standing in front of him, glaring at the two of us like the cocky prick he is. It was just like him to try and take points away for something like that.
"Percy." Oliver inclined his head, looking for all the world like he was calm and rational. I knew better. It seemed Ollie disliked being interrupted almost as much as I did. "What seems to be the problem?"
"It’s against school rules to engage in public displays of affection." Percy sniffed. I peeked out from behind Oliver’s shoulder, which was no small feat, I’ll add, because he’s so bloody huge.
"Oh, really?" I asked, giving the whole one eyebrow-cocked thing a try. I think it works on me. "Care to explain why it is that you and your little girlfriend didn’t get points taken away the other day when I walked in on the two of you in the Prefect’s bathroom?"
"What? You’re not a Prefect!" Percy sputtered. "How did you—"
Wow. So my random guess had been correct. Go figure.
"I gave her the password." Oliver announced. I stared at him. Mostly because I’d completely forgotten he was a Prefect this year. Which wasn’t all that surprising, seeing as he’d only been made Prefect after Percy got Head Boy.
Percy sneered. And then I realized he was just mad because it appeared he’d be losing another bet because of me. I couldn’t help it; I laughed in his face. "Get over yourself, Perce." I told him, grabbing my purchases before I patted him on the shoulder. "Come on, Oliver." I tugged on his hand and sent him a deliberately flirtatious glance from under my eyelashes, just because I knew it would annoy Percy even more. He followed behind me, grabbing his own things before catching up to me and throwing an arm around my shoulders. As we walked up to the castle, I looked back. Percy was still standing in the exact same spot, looking completely irate, not to mention dumbfounded. It was the single most wonderful moment of my life.
The moment we were out of sight, I stepped away from Oliver. His arm fell limply to his side, and he made no attempt to pull me back to him. Not that I would have welcomed the overture in any case, but I was more than a bit miffed that he didn’t even care to make one. I hurried my steps so that we were no longer walking together. I didn’t want to be around Oliver. I didn’t want to even think about him. Because if I did, I’d be forced to re-evaluate my feelings for him. Something I’d been avoiding since May. Something I intended to continue avoiding for a long time to come.
But Oliver being Oliver, he didn’t let me get away from him for very long. The stupid sodding arse. He barely changed his pace, and he’d already caught up with me. Damn him and those long legs of his. Or I guess just damn my short ones. "Hey. What’s your problem?" he asked.
"Nothing." I lied, speeding up again. Oliver didn’t even have to do anything except lengthen his stride and he caught up with me again. "Go away, Oliver."
"Why?"
"I don’t want to talk to you."
"Well, I sure as hell want to talk to you." The outburst was a little surprising, especially coming from Oliver. He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him. I shoved him backwards. And of course, seeing as he’s absolutely massive in comparison to me, this didn’t really have an effect. But it was the principle of the thing.
"Let me go, Oliver." I hissed. He shook his head.
"No. Kenna, can’t you just admit that I’m not such a bad bloke?" I didn’t answer. "Come on. You have to know by now that I’m serious. I’m not messing with you."
"I don’t know anything, Oliver." I lied. His grip tightened on my arm, and his face darkened in anger. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so livid.
"I fucking fancy you, you twit." he erupted. "I have for months. Ever since last term, when we—"
"I don’t want to hear it!" I smacked him. "I already know your motivation for asking me out the last time. I don’t need to hear it in confession form now." Oliver looked confused. That made me seethe even more. What, did he expect me to be happy, knowing the bloke I’d fancied for more than a year had only dated me because the Weasley twins made a bet about it? "Don’t you stand there and lie to me. Don’t try and tell me differently than what I already know."
I’m pretty sure I’ll have bruises in the morning, he was gripping my forearms so tightly. "Obviously you don’t know anything." he tossed out. "But fine, you don’t want to talk about last year? Then let’s talk about what just happened between the two of us."
"I. Don’t. Want. To talk. About. It." I grimaced. "I’m hungry, my arms hurt, and I have homework to do. Not to mention the fact that I need to get away from you so I’m not tempted to slap you for leading me on all day."
"Leading you on?" I have to give him credit. Oliver truly sounded lost. "What in hell are you on about?"
"I’m talking about the fact that you knew Angelina and Alicia blackmailed me into coming with you by telling me I was supposed to distract you. And yet you knew the entire time exactly what they were up to!"
"Kenna." Oliver’s tone gentled. "I’m sorry. But you didn’t really give me any other options."
I jerked my arm away from him bad-naturedly. "Yeah, well right now, the only option I’m giving you is to let the fuck go of me so I can fucking go inside."
He stood there for a minute. I suppose he was pondering the merit of my statement. Suddenly, he crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at me. "You know, I should probably start taking points away from you for being so foul-mouthed." My response was both pithy and foul. He just grinned wider. "But I’ll just leave you alone and do as you ask." I sighed in relief. Until he finished his statement. "For now, that is." My eyes locked with his. "I meant what I said earlier, Kenna." His expression hardened into one of fierce determination. "We’re not finished yet. Not by a long shot."
For some reason, his statement sounded suspiciously like a threat.
I swear to Merlin, that girl is going to be the death of me. Really, she is. I’m bloody nuts about her, and she’s apparently laboring under the delusion that I’m still playing some sick joke on her. I don’t know how she makes that compute; I mean, there aren’t an awful lot of blokes out there who are willing to chase after a girl they don’t really want for more than a short while. And bloody hell, I’ve been trying to figure her out for six sodding months. You’d think she’d have gotten a clearer picture by now. But no. She’s being completely irrational, as usual. I mean, all I did was kiss her.
Granted, I sort of coerced her into going to Hogsmeade with me, and I knew about her friends’ little plot to get the two of us together from almost the moment of its conception. Okay, she doesn’t know that last part. But she does know that I somehow ‘figured it all out’ and I plan to let her keep her delusions for a day. And yes, I may have acted a little more proprietary than necessary when that blasted Montgomery git tried to set up a study date with her. But I’m pretty sure that Kenna understood that, even if she understands nothing else.
What she doesn’t seem to understand is the root of the problem. I’ve said it before, and I’ll probably say it many times more: I really do fancy her, for reasons I will most likely never comprehend. And yet she insists that I can’t possibly be genuine, and that I only want her because I can’t have her. This logic doesn’t precisely work, though, because hell, I haven’t had any of her friends, so it can’t be because she’s the only one I haven’t dated. Well, that and the fact that I have dated her. Kenna seems to conveniently forget this every time I mention it, but she magically seems to remember it every time I try to ask her out.
I hate women. They’re just a load of trouble, and it’s complete bollocks. I’m Oliver Wood, for Merlin’s sake!! Prepubescent boys long to be me. Girls want me. I’m the sodding Quidditch Captain, for the love of God. I can have any girl that I want. So why does Kenna seem to think I like chasing irritable, short, freckled girls with foul mouths and vicious tempers? If I could choose what I who to fancy, it would most definitely not be her. I should have better things to do than follow some crazy woman around the castle, hoping that she will eventually succumb to my charms and I will be able to shut her up by snogging her face off. But no. I am the one who has succumbed to madness, and I insist on being the bloody stubborn arse that Kenna thinks I am. After all, we all deserve life’s little pleasures, don’t we?
The only problem with this seems to be that when I’m not an arse, Kenna thinks I’m not being genuine, and when I purposely say or do things I know will rile her up, she thinks I’m a prat and starts throwing things at me. Lucky me that I’m such a bloody brilliant Keeper, or one of these days her aim would actually be correct and I’d end up missing a very important part of my anatomy.
Bollocks. You’d think that a bloke who’s so excellent at team strategy could manage to get the girl he fancies to at least give him a sodding chance, but no. Honestly, I’m so fed up with her right now that I’ve contemplated just telling her "Oh, Kenna. You were right. I don’t fancy you. Pardon me while I go find my fan club and let them try to rape me. Because we both know that’s all I’m capable of, meaningless cavorting in a sodding broom closet."
And then I remember that she seemed to be more than enjoying herself when I had her up against that tree this afternoon. Hell, I know she enjoyed it, just like I know I did.
If it weren’t for that, I probably would have shot her by now.
And if it weren’t for Percy Weasley, it’s entirely possible that I could have seduced her into capitulating, and this headache would be over, and I could finally concentrate on something other than my irritating, highly bitchy and completely insane basket case of a Seeker. Something like, oh, Quidditch perhaps?? Damn. I am going to bloody murder Percy. This is his fault. Oh, aye, Oliver, put the blame squarely on the right doorstep for once!!
And I swear to Merlin, if Kenna doesn’t give in soon, I’m going to give in and do what I really want. Meaning that I will either strangle her, shove a Snitch down her throat, or tie her up and lock her in a broom closet with me for twenty four hours straight. Then I will alert her parents that her, erm, virtue has been compromised, and they will force her to give into me.
Oh, wait. Wrong century again. Note to self: when Mum leaves those weird Muggle novels of hers out in the open, it is not a good idea to try and read them. This only leads to problems in asserting my masculinity.
Damn it, I shouldn’t have to assert my damn masculinity. I’m the sodding Quidditch Captain. I am a Hogwarts god, and I’m pretty sure that there’s a group of Slytherins who have hired mercenaries to assassinate me.
It wouldn’t surprise me if Kenna had hired a couple herself. Or really, if she was an assassin. She’s odd enough to do it.
Bloody hell. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Really, I did. What I’m about to do basically undermines my position with my team, my status as Big Man at Camping (isn’t that what the Muggles call it?? I’ve never understood why popularity has anything to do with camping.) and again, my masculinity. But I have to do it. If I don’t figure something out soon, I’m not going to be able to concentrate on Quidditch. And if I don’t start concentrating, there’s a definite possibility that we’ll lose the first match to Hufflepuff in two weeks. And if we lose to Hufflepuff, there’s a definite possibility that the scouts from Puddlemere United won’t be willing to take me on. And if I don’t make the Puddlemere team, I’m going to kill Kenna. So really, I have to do this; it’s for the greater good.
I’m going to have to ask a couple of girls for advice. Excuse me while I go drown myself at the humiliation.
According to Alicia and Angelina, I have approached this entire situation in the wrong way. They agree that it might be a good idea for me to lock myself in a small, confined area with Kenna, but only if we run out of other options.
I feel like a sad excuse for a man. I’m taking advice from a couple of girls, for Merlin’s sake. That goes against every man rule there is. And to make it even worse, I’m taking relationship advice. If it were anybody else, I’d accuse him of being a flaming fairy. But it’s me, and I have no idea what made me think this was a good idea. I mean, I’m pretty sure if Kenna was asked who the biggest slag in Hogwarts was, and who was the absolute worst at relationships, the only person she would find worse than me would be Alicia Spinnet. And for the love of Quidditch, those two girls fancy the Weasley twins. Obviously Johnson and Spinnet aren’t exactly the fastest brooms in the shed, if you know what I mean.
Okay, actually, they are two of the fastest fliers in the school, so perhaps that isn’t the best metaphor to choose.
Still. They are obviously lacking brain cells if Fred and George are who they want.
And I had to ask them for advice. Though in my defense, they do know Kenna better than anyone, with the exception of Riley, I guess.
Still. What possessed me to think that the two of them could possibly have anything useful to say?
Okay. So it was useful when they told me that the phrase is Big Man On Campus, not Big Man At Camping. Now Muggles make a little bit more sense. And aye, it was useful when they told me that girls like Kenna expect more than just...erm, physical demonstrations of affection. Apparently, she’s going to need proof that I mean what I’m saying. I don’t know why she needs anything more than I’ve already given, but I have never pretended to understand females, most especially Kenna herself, so I’m really not sure why I’m so surprised.
Still. If this plan of theirs works, I am completely willing to be a very grateful, yet completely emasculated man.
"Seriously, Oliver." Angelina told me after I had finished ranting. "For someone who’s as charming as you sometimes choose to be, you really don’t know how to handle Kenna."
"Oi!" I stopped pacing the Common Room to glare angrily at her. "I’m aware of that. Which is why, you’ll recall, I came to you lot in the first place."
Angelina looked at Alicia, who was humming rather menacingly while observing her manicure. "We’ve already discussed it." Al said smugly. "She’s always going on about how she’ll kill you if you try to ravish her or something. Honestly, sometimes I think she’s deluded herself into believing you’re a pirate."
"Get to the point, Spinnet." I grumbled.
"Fine. We think it would be excellent if you did ravish Kenna. At least then she’d shut up about you."
I think I blushed. "Does pinning her up against a tree and having my way with her count as ‘ravishing?’" I asked as innocently as possible. A whoop of glee went up.
"Yes, it most definitely counts." Angelina assured me. "So, why do you need our help then? She obviously didn’t get you in the bollocks, so it must have worked."
"Er..." I stared at the ground. "I suppose it’s possible that we may have argued and she may have stormed off in a huff. And I may have called her a twit. Oh, and Percy Weasley might have caught us. So I might need your help."
Alicia rolled her eyes at me. "For such a gorgeous, intelligent bloke, you really are a dumb arse, aren’t you, Ollie?"
"That wasn't a compliment, was it?" I asked with a sigh. "The gorgeous and intelligent part, I mean."
The discussion only went downhill from there.
"...So you see, it’s bound to work." Angelina finished. "All we have to do is ask her."
"Are you two sure this is going to work?" I hesitated.
"Excuse me, who has snogged every bloke in this school?" Alicia asked, her grey eyes gleaming.
"Hey, you didn’t bag old Percy." Angelina teased. "Or that prat, Paul. Or even Wood, for that matter."
Again, I found myself flushing, as did Alicia. Angelina looked at us with a strange mix of horror and amusement on her face. "No. You didn’t." she gasped. Alicia turned away.
"It was only once." I mumbled, kicking at the floor uncomfortably. "And it was third year, for the love of Quidditch! And I swear to Merlin, if Kenna finds out, I will personally kill you both."
"Oh, don’t worry, Ollie." Angelina told me between laughs. "We won’t tell her. After all, we have a vested interest in your relationship with her. Meaning, if you don’t put her out of her sexually frustrated misery, we’re going to put you out of yours."
Strangely, this was a comforting thought.
Author's Note: Well? What did you think? I particularly enjoyed the little insight we got about Oliver and Alicia at the very end. It's slightly pointless, but it makes for some interesting reading and writing. And who knows, maybe Angelina will try to blackmail them over it!!! =] Anyways, I just thought I'd let you all know, I have the next nine chapters planned out and I've got plot bunnies for even more. So this story will probably continue for a while. And also, I thought I should tell you all that I'll probably have at least a week between all my updates from here on out. Sad, but that's the way it has to be. Anyways, I'd love to hear what you all think, so leave me a review at the bottom of the page! Cheers!
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