Harry Potter 1. Prologue

A/N: I'm planning that this fic will be about 15 chapters long. It concerns many pairings, but basically it's a Katie Bell/Oliver Wood fic. There aren't enough of them out there! Thanks to other writers of Katie/Olivers and to all fan fiction authors - you guys are the ones that inspired me. I hope you like this! Oh, and I'm a sucker for reviews, so the more reviews I get, the faster I'll update. Constructive criticism welcomed. Questions appreciated. Flames accepted too. Love you guys! On with the fic!  
  
Disclaimer: The plot's mine, as are the referre relatus spell and the powers of Relating. Other than that, pretty much all of it belongs to the lovely and talented JKR. Please don't sue me! *begs* (Really, I don't have anything you would want, except maybe my stereo system. but that was a birthday present. you wouldn't take that, would you?) =-P  
  
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Relating Relations ~ Prologue  
  
Relating. n. The ability to see into, understand, and, when activated by the referre relatus curse, manipulate relationships even when not physically present. Believed to originate from the Dark witch Moira Shanaghan (1921-1956) during the rise of Grindelwald. Used by Shanaghan to aid Grindelwald by causing dissention among their opposition, Relating became a powerful tool in the hands of the Dark side. After the defeat of Grindelwald, Shanaghan was captured. Mediwizards very nearly destroyed the Relating power by rendering it impossible for Shanaghan to wield. It survived only in Shanaghan's daughter (Catherine Nolan) and granddaughter (Catherine Bell). Mediwizards have assured authorities that it is impossible for Catherine Bell (the only living Relator) to activate the referre relatus curse for good or evil, although she possesses the other powers of Relating.  
  
Shanaghan, Moira. 1921-1956. Born in Dublin, Ireland. One of Grindelwald's chief supporters, Shanaghan acquired (or perhaps created) the power of Relating through Dark magic. This power was used for evil (destroying relationships among those who opposed Grindelwald) using the powerful referre relatus curse, which is also believed to have been invented by Shanaghan. When Grindelwald was defeated by Albus Dumbledore in 1945, Shanaghan was captured and sentenced to 10 years in Azkaban (this was the subject of considerable controversy at the time, as many felt this was too short a period). After considerable study by mediwizards and acclaimed curse specialists from around the world, it was concluded that the power of Relating was present in Shanaghan's veins. As the Ministry of Magic had abolished capital punishment in 1934, there was no way to completely destroy Shanaghan's powers. However, shortly before Shanaghan was released after serving 8 years (early release for good behaviour), an antidote was discovered. This enabled mediwizards to significantly decrease the power's evil potency and render it impossible for Shanaghan to use the referre relatus curse without using all the power in her blood and thereby forfeiting her life. The small residual powers of Relating would be counteracted by the power of any wizard's magic, so it was assumed that Shanaghan's powers could not be passed on to any offspring. Using the Hera vs. Echo precedent, they were also able to perform the spell that would disable Shanaghan from using her powers in her own relationships, dooming her to understand others but not herself. Following her release from Azkaban, Shanaghan disappeared from the wizarding world. When she appeared again, two years later, it was with a Muggle husband, Peter Nolan, and a newborn baby, Catherine. Authorities quickly realized their error: Peter Nolan did not have any magic to counteract Shanaghan's, and therefore the powers of Relating must have been passed on to the child. After an analysis of the little girl, mediwizards confirmed this. Shanaghan died shortly afterwards, when she attempted to perform the referre relatus curse on her Muggle in-laws. The Muggles were not hurt, but Shanaghan bled to death.  
  
Nolan, Catherine. (1955-1986) Born in Ireland (exact location unknown). Daughter of Dark witch Moira Shanaghan, one of Grindelwald's supporters, and Muggle Peter Nolan. Nolan inherited Relating powers from her mother. After her mother' death attempting to use the referre relatus curse, Nolan was raised by her Muggle father until she began attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In this time, unattended by any magic presence, it is believed that the Relating powers grew more potent even than in her mother. Nolan was very different from her mother, however, and, with support from her father and the aid of the Hogwarts staff, she made good progress in harnessing and controlling her powers. In 1978 she became a certified mediwizard. In 1980 Nolan married Nathan Bell. Nolan continued to refine and strengthen her powers, using them for good in St. Mungo's. In 1981, Nolan fought off a pack of Voldemort's death eaters, who had come to bring her into the Dark Lord's service to follow her mother's footsteps. Thus newly purged of evil, Nolan and Bell conceived a child. Catherine Bell (called Katie to distinguish her from her mother) was born in 1982, with strengthened and purified Relating powers. Nolan was killed by Voldemort in May 1987, only two months before Voldemort met his downfall in the baby Harry Potter.  
  
Bell, Catherine. (1982- ) Born in Cork, Ireland. Daughter of Nathan Bell and Catherine Nolan, distinguished fighters against the Dark forces. Granddaughter of Moira Shanaghan, Dark witch and supporter of Grindelwald. Bell is the only living Relator, a power passed down from her mother and grandmother, now in a purified form. Mediwizards have assured authorities that although Bell possesses the powers of a Relator she does not have the ability to activate the referre relatus curse. Bell currently attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
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A/N: How do you like my idea? I know there is no romance in this chapter, but I promise there is a lot to come. Especially if you review. Pretty please?  
  
Elephants are not afraid of mice. Really they aren't. I'm sure of it. Need documentation? Oh. Well, um, library? Anyway they aren't. I know. *nods* 


	2. Welcome To My World

A/N: Welcome back! Aren't I a good lil doggie to update again so soon? Thanks to my one reviewer lol *sniffles* Nobody loves me hehe. Anyway. enjoy the fic! (Why can't I do "."s or rather "dot dot dot"s? They just don't show up - help? Also, does anyone know how to do i Italics? i)  
  
Disclaimer: The plot's mine, as are the referre relatus spell and the powers of Relating. Other than that, pretty much all of it belongs to the lovely and talented JKR. Please don't sue me! Yes, I realize that I my last disclaimer I splinched my face --- so sad. I'm telling you, the plastic surgery was NOT fun.  
  
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Relating Relations ~ Chapter One: Welcome To My World  
  
Now you know what most here at Hogwarts don't. My grandmother was a Dark witch and a supporter of Grindelwald. My mother was practically a saint, very brave and strong. And now there's me. It's hard to live up to, and right now it's especially hard.  
I'm a Relator, so I can see into my friends' relationships, even if I'm still too young to have reached the peak state of absolute clarity yet. They don't know about it, though, not even my very best friends Lish and Ange. I think it would make them uncomfortable. Anyway, it wouldn't be very fun if they found out about Grandmother Shanaghan. But the point is that ever since last year it seems as though all my friends are getting together and going out with each other and settling down to have reasonably happy romances - not perfect, of course, but happy in general. I know their problems and I can try to help, but of course I can't be too obvious about it.  
I just wonder when it will be my turn, you know? I'm not really ugly or anything. I mean my chest is pretty flat and I'm convinced my nose is too big, but I'm pretty enough. I have a good slim fit body from Quidditch, and thick wavy auburn hair, clear skin and long-lashed blue-grey eyes. I like to think I have a good sense of humour and everything, even if I am a bit sarcastic. I'm smart, too - not a genius, but intelligent enough to get good marks without really trying too hard. I'm a Chaser on the best team Hogwarts has seen in years. So what is wrong with me?  
Not that I haven't been out with guys - I have. Just none of them were really guys I liked. I mean sure they are attractive and funny and all - they just weren't the ones I had a crush on. They weren't the ones I loved. In short, they weren't Oliver.  
Yes, I admit it. You have my complete confession. I, Katie Bell, have a very large humungous apparently incurable crush on my Quidditch captain and year-mate. And have had for about five or six years. You would have thought I would have mentioned something to him by now. But no, sadly I haven't. Apparently I don't share my mother's courage or my grandmother's cunning. And now I'm running out of time.  
Sometimes I think he likes me. We flirt a lot - nothing serious, just silly suggestive comments at Quidditch practice or a little game of footsie under the table at dinner. And we've kissed before and everything. But it wasn't serious either - just part of a game of Spin the Bottle. It was bloody nice though. Damnit, good thing nobody's here to see me blush. Why do I blush so easily? There's one thing that's wrong with me.  
I can't even see into his other relationships anymore. I used to be able to see his feelings and know what he was up to with other girls, but now he must be too close to me for me to be able to see into his heart. That's what they did to my grandmother. Doom her to understand others, but not herself. Apparently that got passed on as well. Thank you so very much Grandma.  
God that boy drives me crazy. And I don't know what I can do. There are only four months left until we graduate from Hogwarts and possibly never see each other again. I can't let that happen. I just can't.  
Lish and Ange are coming up from the common room now, so I'd better stop dreaming. They'll want to talk all about the twins, I suppose. They've never dreamt how left out I feel. Brave face, Katie, brave face.  
I'll chat to them for as long as I can stand and then finish my Transfiguration assignment and head to bed. To dream of Oliver. Damn him. I love him. Do I? Am I sure? Oh who the hell am I kidding? Damn.  
  
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A/N: *sniffles* Poor Katie. Don't worry it gets better. I promise. But I don't really like this chapter. Oh well - it serves its purpose - sorry it's a little short. When I get three reviews I'll post the next chapter. Is that too many to ask for? I'm impatient I guess. I want lots of reviews the first day I post things. . . Ooooooh! *squeals in delight* Look, look! My "dot dot dot" worked. =-)  
  
Did you know it is a really bad idea to type "fluff" into the fanficion.net search engine? You could be scarred for life. I don't recommend it. Of course, now many of you will go off and do it - don't say I didn't warn you. Oh, and if you are under 18, please get your parent/guardian to sign below to say that it's not my fault if your feet stink. Thanks. =-)  
  
NOTES TO MY WONDERFUL FAnTAbULOuS REVIEWER: specs-88 - I haven't done any beta work, but I'll think of it. I'm pretty busy, but soon school will be out and I'll have a little more free time anyway. Sorry! I'll get more O/K action soon. Please don't hurt me! *hides behind Sean Biggerstaff* hmm - I should come back here more often. Do I have to up the rating for that comment? 'Cuz I'm thinking it might not be appropriate for all ages. On the other hand I could just delete it. But that wouldn't be any fun. =-( Hehehe I know I ramble a lot - it's one of my specialties. 


	3. The Bighead and the Charmer

A/N: OMG I love you guys! I get so impatient waiting for reviews. . . I swear I checked for new ones ten times during like one hour. But I got my three in two hours, so I'm review happy! Just keep reviewing, ok? Oh all right, fine - you can read it first. But that's my final offer. =-P (Seriously, you should see how happy I get when I get reviews. . . I think my family think I'm cracking up. . .) Anyway I feel very special because I'm posting the third chapter in two days!!! (Shouldn't I study for exams? Nah. I've got another day and a half for that.) Enough of my prattle. . . On with the fic!  
  
Disclaimer: The plot's mine, as are the referre relatus spell and the powers of Relating. Other than that, pretty much all of it belongs to the lovely and talented JKR. Please don't sue me! I just like to play in my little sandbox of the world of Harry Potter.  
  
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Relating Relations ~ Chapter Two: The Bighead and the Charmer  
  
Percy and Penelope got together last year. They were really sweet about it all, even if only I knew just how sweet.  
Everybody knows Percy is a pompous prat, or at least they think they know he's like that. From what I can see, he's just sensitive. I think I can give you a pretty good idea of his emotional profile:  
As the third child, he probably never really got as much attention as he wanted or needed. Then the twins came along, and he got even less of his parents' time. Those two are *such* a handful. He probably thought that if he was serious and worked hard his parents would pay more attention and give him more love, although Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are some of the most loving people I know. And I guess it worked. I mean, when he was made a Prefect he got an owl to replace his rat and his parents, especially his mother, were very proud. When he got Head Boy I was really happy for him. Fred and George bugged him about talking about it all the time, but I guess Percy just wanted to hear how good he was more often. Diagnosis: he has self-esteem problems.  
I think it's sad. I don't think he's really very intelligent, just about average. He's had to work really hard to get good grades and it's taken most of the fun and mischief out of him. You know what they say about all work and no play. . .  
I don't know Penelope that well, since she's a Ravenclaw. I do know that she's an intelligent girl, especially at Charms, like many of the girls in her house. She's really very pretty too. I think I'm a little jealous. Anyway, one day in my sixth year she found Percy out by the lake, crying about some of the things Fred and George had said. Honestly, I wish I could tell those two how much their teasing hurts their brother. But I don't think they would listen - anyway, it would probably only make it worse for poor Percy. Anyway, Penelope asked him what was wrong and he told her - finally he let himself go. Penelope said all the right things and made all the right noises and then she held him for a long, long time. For once, Percy was outdoors after curfew. And he didn't care.  
Now they're always so sweet together. Penelope understands him, and he needs that kind of nurturing. She partly acts as his mother and partly as his girlfriend, but I'm happy to say that love has replaced pity in her heart. He loves her more all the time - even takes time off from his Head Boy position to see her.  
They cuddle all the time, but more in a comforting way than a passionate way. They never make you feel uncomfortable by making out in front of you, no matter how much Ron and the twins may object to the fact that their brother has a girlfriend. They're very romantic in the classical way - roses, chocolates, honourable intentions and all that. They haven't slept together yet. (Yes, that's one of the things my glorious powers let me see. Aren't I lucky? I really wanted to know what all those Slytherins do in their spare time. See, told you I am sarcastic. . .) It isn't because it's against the rules however. It's just because Percy is so old- fashionedly chivalrous that he wants to marry her first. I hope he works up the nerve to propose soon. I've felt him make several plans in his heart, but none of them seem quite right for him and Penelope.  
That's their story anyway. . . Back to mine.  
  
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Hmmm. What is there to tell? Oh I know. I was in Divination with Oliver today, and we were sitting across the room from each other, reviewing scrying and dowsing techniques.  
"Remember class," Trelawney whispered in what we have dubbed her "smoky" voice, not to be confused with the "hazy" or "foggy" variations. "Your dowsing instrument will only react to water if you hold it between your palms - the exact center of the palms. You know you have the correct spot when. . . Miss Bell?"  
I don't know why I put my hand up, but I did, and I knew the answer so it didn't really matter.  
"When you can't feel anything between your palms at all, Professor." I addressed the gauzy figure over by the fire. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Oliver hold his hands up to his either side of his head as though it were a dowsing instrument and then point at Trelawney.  
I don't know why I found it so funny - everyone knows Trelawney has nothing between her ears - but I did. I burst out into giggles.  
Trelawney immediately fixed her humungous eyes on me. I turned my giggles into sobs.  
"Miss Bell, you are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations. If you continue I will have to dismiss the class." I saw the class perk at the thought of escaping the soporific room.  
"So. . . sorry, Professor. . . Don't know what's. . . come over me. . .," I said between increasingly fake sobs. Trelawney didn't seem to notice that my acting wasn't up to my usual standard. "It's just . . . poor little . . . Harry Potter . . . no parents . . . and now doomed . . . to die so young . . ." I collapsed forwards on a padded pink footstool, shoulders shaking with barely concealed laughter.  
Once I had myself under a little more control, I glanced up at Trelawney. Her eyes were reflecting more than normal, filled with tears.  
"I know, my dear," she cooed silkily, "That poor boy bears a heavy burden."  
As if this wasn't enough to send me back into spasms of mirth, Oliver chose this moment to make emphatic gagging motions behind Trelawney's back. I collapsed forwards on the footstool once more, burying my face it its musty lace cover. This time Trelawney couldn't possibly mistake it for crying.  
She sighed. "Five points from Gryffindor for the five minutes you and the rest of your class will have to miss of my teaching, Miss Bell. The vibrations have been too much affected to go on . . . Class dismissed."  
We scrambled gratefully down through the trapdoor. Oliver came up behind me as we walked along to Transfiguration.  
"Five points, Miss Bell?" He can do an uncanny impression of McGonagall when inspired. "How do you ever expect Gryffindor to win the House Cup if you will insist on throwing away points in Divination? To Sybil Trelawney? I will die of shame. . ." Oliver dropped off into chuckles. I stopped in the hall, turning to face him.  
"Well it's all your fault, anyway. You made me laugh. And don't complain - I got you out of Hogwarts' most pointless class early. You should be thanking me on bended knee."  
"My fault? Never!" He feigned innocence. Then bending down on one knee, he announced to me and our entire year, "Fair lady - I owe you my most solemn allegiance 'til the day death claims me for the service you have his day rendered me." The term "services rendered" passed through my mind, and I wrinkled my nose, feeling myself begin to blush. "If there is anything I may do to return the favour of releasing you from the power of a glittery grasshopper - " Here I burst into giggles. Being in a very Over- The-Top-Oliver mood (must have been spending too much time with Fred and George again), he bent down to kiss my feet, causing me to trip over him as I tried to move away before he embarrassed me further. I fell right on top of him. Smooth, Katie, real smooth, I thought to myself. But he was laughing, so I figured it was OK. I rolled off him with a grunt and he got up, pulling me up after him. He started to feel my hips and ribs -  
"Ah - can't feel anything broken," he joked. "But perhaps this merits closer inspection. . ." He continued suggestively, a faint smirk fluttering around the corners of his mouth. He made as though to untuck my shirt. Jeez, Oliver, slow down. He wasn't serious - just joking around - and I felt a bit uncomfortable, so I did what all girls should do in such situations: pushed him back, stuck out my tongue at him to show I wasn't really mad, kicked him in the shin, and ran off down the hallway.  
When I saw him this afternoon at practice he called over to me, "No broken bones, Bell? No bruises?"  
I just rolled my eyes at him and went to change in to my practice robes. But there wasn't any awkwardness so I guess it's all good. Even if I am just a little kinda sorta really confused.  
He is one silly guy. Too bad he isn't *my* silly guy. Oh well. Soon, Bell, soon.  
  
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A/N: I hope that bit about Percy and Penelope wasn't too boring for you guys. I have a question for you guys: Do u want me to include all the - uh - passionate details? Of both the Katie/Oliver and the other 'ships that Katie will tell us about? That might be a bit difficult to tell from Katie's POV without making her sound perverted is all. . . Let me know what you think. . . Also, do I need to up the rating to "R"? I mean I don't think I would have had a problem with anything in here when I was thirteen, but I don't want to scar any tender souls out there. . .  
  
NOTES TO MY MarVeLOuS WONDERFUL FAnTAbULOuS REVIEWERS:  
  
KAT - Aww you make me feel loved. Can't wait for you to write a fic yourself! =-) Thanks for your review!  
  
AllyCat - Thanks for so much your encouragement! And yes, you're welcome to come back here behind Sean with me anytime you like, as long as you agree to split the rent. =-)~  
  
Elbereth - OMG! I feel like a first year talking to one in seventh. You're such an awesome author! Thanks for reviewing! I hope I can meet all my reviewers' expectations. *bites nails* lol  
  
OK, I'll update after I get . . . hmm . . . 5 reviews. (I know, don't people just get more demanding all the time?)  
  
Right. This is where I'm supposed to say something witty or hysterical or something, isn't it? Well, normally I'd be happy to oblige, but I've got a cold and hay fever is just making it worse. So I'll just leave you with one of my favourite quotes:  
  
"Tell a man there are 300 billion stars in the universe and he'll believe you. Tell him a bench has wet paint on it and he'll have to touch to be sure."  
  
Speaking of wet paint - no, on second thoughts, we won't go there. Let's just say I now have a very artistic version of a pair of white capris.  
  
Remember - 5 reviews! Love you! Toodleoo. 


	4. Truth or Dare

A/N: Here you go! You reviewed, I've updated. . . And there's another chapter ready to go pretty much as soon as you want it. . . =-)  
  
NOTES TO MY AbSoLUteLy SPIFFING FAnTAbULOuS REVIEWERS:  
  
Elle-poohbear - 'Elo. =-) Sorry! I'll try to make my chapters a bit longer. . . (This one is 190 words longer than the last one. . .) Just remember I have exams! Grrrr! So I have to study. . . Double grrrrrrr!!!!! (Oh, and "unique" is a compliment, right? lol)  
  
kazza - Thanks! I always thought that Percy was just misunderstood. =-*( Even if he does act like a prat sometimes. . . Someday I will write a fic about Percy. This summer. Maybe. If I EVER get past all these blankety- blank blanking exams.  
  
aubiecat - So glad you like it! I got my reviews, you guys got your update! Dance and jump and revel in it! (sorry that's one of my favourite sayings. . . =-)  
  
AllyCat - Thanks so much for reviewing again for me! I love reviewers who say what they like, not just "This is great! Write more soon!" (no offense to those of you that did that. . . lol)  
  
Silver - I'm not good at writing long chapters!!! But I'll try. . . Glad you liked it. =-)  
  
Jennifer - Glad you like it! There are nowhere near the number of O/K fics that those two wonderful characters deserve!  
  
I hope all of you guys are glad to get more O/K in here!!! =-) Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: The plot's mine, as are the referre relatus spell and the powers of Relating. Other than that, pretty much all of it belongs to the lovely and talented JKR. Please don't sue me!  
  
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Relating Relations ~ Chapter Three: Truth or Dare  
  
I don't know if I've introduced you to Angelina Johnson. She's also a Chaser on our Mighty Team (in the words of Fred and George) and one of my best friends.  
She's very easy-going and self-confident. She's as comfortable in trackies as she is in dress robes, and she's probably the most attractive of all the girls in Gyffindor. She used to go out with Lee Jordan, but then he put his giant tarantula in her bed and she called it off. Even a tarantula that has had its poison removed can make you jump so high you hit your head on the canopy of a Hogwarts bed - and that's saying something. Ange had nightmares for ages after that. I was surprised she hadn't formed a Society for the Abhorrence of Eight-Legged Creatures with Ron Weasley. Honestly - some boys just take things way too far! Not that the boy Ange has been with for the past year is much better - in fact, he's probably worse.  
Fred Weasley is the slightly more adventurous and rambunctious twin, although that doesn't really mean much, seeing as they are both so incredibly OTT. It was obvious to most of their friends that they liked each other for quite a while before they finally got together (you didn't need to be a Relator to figure it out).  
I am happy to say that Alicia (my usual partner in crime) and I were largely the instigators of their happy union (do I sound pompous enough yet?). Ange had been mooning over him all day, even during Quidditch practice. When a girl takes it so far that it affects her game, her friends have to take action for the good of the team.  
In her distracted state, it was easy to convince Ange to play a game of Truth or Dare with us. After lulling her into a false sense of security by admitting such embarrassing things as "Yes, I had a crush on Lockhart" -Don't look at me! That was all Lish- and "I kissed Marcus Flint in third year" -No comment- (we save up some of our juicy secrets for just these occasions), it was her turn.  
"Truth or Dare?" I asked.  
"Hmm?" Angelina came back to our world. "Oh, um, dare."  
Lish and I shared an evil grin.  
"OK, I dare you to . . .," I paused as though thinking (it doesn't to be *too* obvious), "kiss Fred during breakfast tomorrow."  
Angelina's mouth dropped open and her eyebrows shot up. She looked at us for a moment and then buried her face in her hands, collapsing forward on the bed.  
"Katieeeeeeeeeee. . ." Her whine was muffled by the bedclothes. I looked at Alicia. She rolled her eyes and drew he finger across her neck. I nodded in agreement. Ange was definitely a goner.  
"So, Angie, how are you going to do it?" I prodded.  
"May I suggest the halter top, milady?" Lish announced in her best bored valet voice before falling back on the bed, giggling maniacally. Sometimes I could swear that girl is mentally imbalanced. But then, I probably am too.  
"And perhaps that charming little pink thong?" I added. The "charming little pink thong" is a joke that goes back to fifth year, when the boys managed to plant some - uh - interesting objects in our dormitories.  
Angelina sat up with a groan. "I'm glad you two find this funny. This happens to be the my entire future love life that you are about to make me ruin."  
How could she not see. . .? "Ange, if you think that. . ." I paused and tried again. "Ange, the boy is head over heels for you. The least you can do is put him out of his misery." I rubbed her back reassuringly.  
She looked at me, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. "Do you really think he likes me?"  
Lish sat up and looked at me earnestly. "By George, I think she's got it! I think she's got it!"  
"By *George*, huh?" Ange couldn't resist teasing. It was Alicia's turn to hide her face in her hands.  
"Aww, it's OK, Lish, you can come out. We know you're blushing."  
"Well we know how to make you blush don't we?" She responded. "Oli-"  
She didn't get any farther than that, because I launched my pillow at her, and pretty soon the dormitory had erupted in an explosive pillow fight.  
  
.-- * --.  
  
The next morning we woke Ange up early so she could get ready. Looking back, I'm not sure if that was such a great idea - she fussed and fretted until eventually we shoved her in the closet so that we could get dressed ourselves without tripping over her all the time. When we let her out she fretted a little longer, retying her halter and brushing through her already perfect hair.  
Lish and I rolled our eyes at each other for the umpteenth time that morning, and hustled her out the door and down to breakfast.  
Just before we entered the Great Hall, Ange paused and glanced nervously at us. We smiled encouragingly, and she set her shoulders and walked confidently into the Hall and over to the Gryffindor table.  
"And how's our star Chaser this fine morning?" I excused the implication that Ange was a better player than me on the grounds that Fred was clearly biased.  
Angelina answered in the most seductive voice I had ever heard her use, "I don't know - I'm hoping you can make me feel," she paused to run her tongue over her lower lip, "much better. . ."  
And with that she climbed into his lap and swallowed his surprise in what looked like a very intense snog. They kept it up for a good two minutes, by which time most of Gryffindor and even some of the other students were applauding or catcalling.  
At this point, Lish and I remembered that one of our main duties as best friends was to embarrass Ange as much as possible.  
I poked her. "Ange. . . Calling Angelina. . . You can stop now. . ."  
She opened her eyes grumpily, pulling briefly away from Fred. "G'way Katie."  
Lish and I just went away as requested and found ourselves seats. We were extraordinarily nice to everyone for the rest of the day - a mission well accomplished is bound to have that effect.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
That was Ange and Fred fixed up. They're still together - he drives her crazy, she drives him mad. It isn't the most placid relaxing sort of relationship, but they're ecstatically happy more often than they're raging against each other, so all in all it worked out.  
  
Now for today's news on Oliver. . . Guess what? I don't know. That boy has me all confused. When I saw him this morning, he winged at me about having a big bruise on his shin where I kicked him when he - um - did whatever he did -which I totally, completely, utterly do not UNDERSTAND! I was cool though.  
I just gave him an innocent whisper in his ear, "Well I could have kicked you somewhere else if you preferred, but I thought perhaps you might want to ride your broom in the next couple weeks." And then I walked off. I am good.  
Only then he avoided me for the rest of the day - what did I do wrong? Boys. Drive. Me. Crazy. Well, one particular boy, anyway. But I guess I can be just as confusing.  
I'd better get some sleep. Ange and Lish have been asleep for ages.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
Something poked me.  
What the . . .? It is not - possibly - time - to - get - up. I rolled over and looked at my watch, only to realize it was too dark to see it. Fumbling for my wand, I came in contact with something soft. Silky. Hair? What?  
"Oliver!" I shot straight up in bed. "What the hell are you doing here?"  
His eyes traveled from my face down a little and stuck, his cheeks flushing. I looked down and promptly shot back underneath the covers. Oh Lord, take me now.  
OK, Katie, calm down, stop blushing. Surprisingly enough, it seemed to work. When I raised my hands to my face it felt cool.  
I poked my head out from under my covers. "So, Oliver, what was it you wanted? . . . Oliver?" He was staring at me blankly, his mouth hanging slightly open, the red shade of his cheeks gradually returning to normal. "Oliver - now is normally when you explain what the hell you are doing in a girl's dormitory at - what time is it, anyway?"  
Oliver stopped gaping like a guppy and held his watch close to the window and the first morning light that was beginning to creep in. "Five- thirty."  
"And . . .?"  
"And what?"  
"Why are you here?"  
"Quidditch." He answered as though it was obvious.  
I rolled over, turning my back to him. I should have known.  
"And just what gave you the impression that any of us would want to get out of a nice warm bed and go outside at 5:30 on a cold morning in March?"  
"Because, Miss Catherine Bell, in not too long we will be playing in the crucial match which will decide whether or not we make the finals. Or had you forgotten?"  
"So your theory is that if we are all exhausted we will play better? Try again . . ."  
"Just get your ass out there in fifteen minutes, OK?"  
I rolled onto my stomach, looking up in order to give him the benefit of an evil smirk. "Oh, so now you want to see my ass as well, do you? I think you've seen quite enough for one day, Captain."  
"Ka-Katie, I - I didn't mean that to happen - I mean I - um . . ." He fidgeted.  
He looks so cute when he's embarrassed. However, it *is* 5:30 and he's probably tired too, so I guess I can let him off easy just this once.  
"Oliver, shut up. I know you didn't mean to. Now get out of here so I can get up. I'll wake up Ange and Lish. Go. Shoo. Buzz off."  
He got the point and left. Why do I feel disappointed?  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
A/N: Hehehe! *jumps around, clapping hands* That was sooooooooooooooooo much fun to write!!!! (Hope it was as fun to read. . .) Just to clear this up - this story is told as a sort of transcript of Katie's thoughts. So it's sort of like a diary but easier to relate and not so easy for others to read (Can you imagine Katie writing down anything down about her Grandmother? What if somebody found it?) Oh, and sorry the O/K bit was a bit short, but I'm going away tomorrow and I still need to pack before I go to bed. . . If enough of you guys want it, maybe I will rewrite a longer version of this chapter. =-)  
  
You know the drill - 10 reviews (on to bigger and better things - in this case, numbers of reviews) and I'll update. =-)  
Next chapter: Ron & Hermione, and Oliver in swimming trunks.  
But only if you review! (How's that for bribery? lol)  
Btw, I'll be moving the story around after each chapter depending on the featured pairing, but I hope that the fanfiction.net search engine will always find this in a search for Oliver and Katie.  
  
Do owls have paws?  
  
10 REVIEWS!!!!! Love you guys. 


	5. More Than One Kind of Genius

A/N: Soooooooooooo sorry this wasn't up earlier - ff.net was having server issues . . . and document-loading issues. . . grrr to it!!! Thanks to the 1983 Edition of the Chambers dictionary. Dictionaries are my friends!!! (hope that doesn't make me sound like too much of a nerd =-P )  
  
Disclaimer: The plot's mine, as are the referre relatus spell and the powers of Relating. Other than that, pretty much all of it belongs to the lovely and talented JKR. Please don't sue me! Oh, and I don't own the dictionary either.  
  
Rating Warning (as suggested by reviewer "I fling poo"): This is rated PG13 since I think that most thirteen year olds will have no problem with it. However, tender souls be warned that sexuality and heavy flirtation are rampant! (Not to mention Oliver in swim trunks, as promised.) =-)  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
Relating Relations ~ Chapter Four: More Than One Kind of Genius  
  
Genius. n. the special inborn faculty of any individual: special taste or natural disposition: consummate intellectual, creative or other power. . .  
Okay, you get the idea. Only if I were a genius I would know that already off by heart instead of having to look it up in a dictionary.  
I bet when you hear the word "genius" you immediate think of Hermione Granger. But there is more than one kind of genius.  
Remember what Ron, Hermione and Harry did in their first year? That took more than one kind of genius. Ron may be dumb at a lot of things, but when it comes to chess I have no doubt he is a genius. Hermione has to this date only beaten him once, despite her better-than-perfect grades and extensive store of chess books. That one time Ron was so far past blotto it's a miracle he could see well enough to move his pieces.  
It is also said that geniuses (genii?) are impossible to live with. If that is truly the case, it would explain a great deal about Ron and Hermione's relationship. They still constantly bicker, although their major rows are now down to once a week and I haven't heard them utter death threats against each other for going on four weeks now.  
The way they got together proved Hermione's genius in practicality once again.  
After one of their more violent rows (which took place over a game of chess, as it happened), Hermione stalked out of the common room and didn't return at all that evening, although upon investigation on the part of Harry it was discovered that some of her homework had also disappeared. Ron, who was in one of his more gittish (A/N: hehe isn't that a great word?) moods, refused to go after her. Harry knew from bitter experience not to get involved.  
The next day was Saturday, enabling Hermione to keep up her absence without endangering her precious percentages. By lunchtime, Harry was rather worried and so was Ron, although he adamantly denied it. Harry made a brief search of her usual haunts (one word: library), but found her (or rather didn't) absent.  
By Saturday evening, even Ron was beginning to show signs of anxiety: he refused to play chess (the board was still in the position it had been at the time of the row) or Exploding Snap, opting instead to gaze absently at the glimmering coals of the common room fire. He went to bed only when Harry reappeared in his PJs and began to physically drag him up the stairs to the boys' dorms.  
  
.-- * --.  
  
Hermione apparently entered the Tower during the night, however, because when Ron emerged the next morning (almost afternoon, really) he found a note by the abandoned chess set, written in Hermione's neat, precise hand:  
"To capture the queen, move your rook twelve spaces forwards to h1."  
It took a moment for it to sink in. His first emotion was confusion. There was no tactical advantage he could see from the suggested move - it didn't remotely affect Hermione's queen. And twelve spaces? Surely even Hermione knew that the dimensions of a chessboard were 8x8.  
His second emotion was curiosity. He gave into it, moving his rook to the corner space, h1. And then his jaw dropped. The chessboard had transformed into something similar to the Marauders' Map. There on the corner square the Astronomy Tower was represented, and a little figure marked "H. Granger" was sitting in one of the viewing alcoves reading. A clock on the diagram pointed to midday.  
Ron checked his watch: 11:52am. He swore and rushed out of the common room, nearly bowling over the habitually unfortunate Neville.  
He reached the Astronomy Tower some seven and a half minutes later, considerably out of breath. Sure enough, Hermione was there, sitting reading about the seventeen variations of the "ox" rune used in the fifth century B.C.  
Upon Ron's arrival, however, she laid aside the book and stood up.  
Ron, figuring it was now or never (and perhaps suffering from deranged judgment - after all, he had only been awake for approximately fifteen minutes), gathered Hermione into his arms and kissed her - tentatively at first, and then more and more confidently.  
When he drew back it was to mutter, "I love you, Hermione."  
"Of course you do, you great eejit." Hermione remarked fondly when they next came up for air. "And I love you too."  
Ron smiled with relief and sat down in the alcove, drawing Hermione into his lap for another kiss.  
  
.~*~.  
  
Those two are really very sweet, at least when they aren't fighting. In the mornings, when he's still a bleary-eyed, tousle-haired sleepyhead, she calls him her "marmalade bear." It's the most adorable nickname I've heard any of the couples in Hogwarts use.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
The boy is completely obsessed! Completely, utterly, entirely. I am surprised he has ever had any time for any relationships at all. You know who I'm talking about.  
The early morning practice yesterday was both exhausting and exhilarating. The news at the end of practice was neither. It was just plain depressing.  
Oliver has got it into his head that our stamina needs to be improved, just incase Harry doesn't get the snitch as fast as usual. He has therefore devised a training schedule involving swimming in the lake, running around the castle (no mean feat!), and tree climbing (I have no idea how he got permission to enter the Forest).  
It's not that I particularly mind the extra exercise or hardship, or even that I grudge him my homework time. My main problem just at the moment is that I've got thirteen minutes to get down to the lake and I can't find my swimsuit. I mean, I found my bikini, but that's not exactly ideal for length swimming and such. Besides, I think Oliver has seen quite enough of my chest for now. (Damn, I thought I decided I wasn't going to think about that just now?)  
Where the hell is my one-piece? I have nine minutes!  
With seven minutes to go, I grabbed an old blue tankini that is now too tight for Alicia but for some reason is still residing in a corner of her part of the closet. Slipping it on and grabbing my goggles which, luckily, had not gone AWAL along with my swimsuit, I scurried down the staircases (they always seem to multiply whenever I am in a hurry) and out onto the Hogwarts grounds.  
I arrived rather out of breath, smiling slightly at the thought of Ron's similar dash last October.  
Harry, apparently the only other member of the team to be there on time (don't you hate it when you run your ass off and then others are late?), looked at me quizzically.  
"What's funny?"  
"Oh, just . . . uh, nothing." I trailed off as I remembered I was not supposed to know about Ron and Hermione's rendezvous in the Astronomy Tower.  
Harry just shrugged. I guess he's learned that asking too many questions doesn't help.  
I was saved from further attempts at conversation by the arrival of the twins and my two best friends. Alicia, I noticed, was wearing my bathing suit.  
"Where were you guys this morning?" I asked. "I woke up this morning and you guys weren't there. . . And Lish, why are you wearing my swimsuit? Do you know that I went nearly frantic trying to find it just now?"  
Lish looked at me with an air of martyred patience, waiting for me to finish.  
"It doesn't seem to have done you any harm. Besides, that tankini of mine looks rather good on you. . ." She leaned forward to whisper in my ear, "Someone had to give you an excuse to show off your flat stomach to Oliver."  
I blushed and gave her a blazing glare, warning her to shut up before I "accidentally" spilled something about Lockhart. I didn't get the chance to push her in the lake, though, because at that moment our revered captain arrived.  
"Right, team. Warm-up: six lengths between that tree and that big boulder," - he indicated the landmarks - "front crawl, please."  
I slipped on my goggles, dived in, and set off, the others close behind me, trying to ignore the chilliness of the lake and the tickling brush of aquatic plants against my bare midriff.  
I arrived back at the tree after completing my warm-up a good half- length before anyone else. I used to compete in summer competitions, but now I concentrate so much on Quidditch I don't really have time.  
For better or for worse, this gave me time to admire Oliver's backside as he bent over his training box, digging around for who knows what implements of training-torture. He turned around suddenly, and I realized I'd been caught staring. Damn. I winked, falling back on Alicia's favourite piece of advice: "When in doubt, wink."  
I didn't get a chance to gauge Oliver's reaction, however, because the Weasley twins chose that moment to arrive in a very splashy dead-heat finish. I was saved from further sparring with Oliver. For the moment.  
I reached for my towel to dry off a little - the cold wind on my wet skin was making me feel as though my temperature had dropped down past the bottom of the lake. The next thing I new, I was wet all over again, and so was my towel.  
I looked around, feeling the beginnings of outrage forming on my face. Oliver bubbled up from his cannonball entrance and gave me a Weasley grin. I was about to launch into a tirade about wet towels and such, but he mouthed "payback" at me. I flushed and quickly looked away.  
  
.~*~.  
  
Oliver tortured us with various training activities, including more lengths, some easy water polo, and diving for objects on the lake floor.  
"OK, team, that's about it," he stood up in the shallow water, water dripping from his hair into his eyes. "Just a little lung-capacity exercise and then you can go back to your homework or whatever it is you people do when ignoring The Sport." - told you he's obsessed - "I want you to do a couple of handstands and see if you can improve your underwater time."  
Damn him. Summersaults I can do. Stride dives, surface dives, and pikes I can do. But I was never able to do an underwater handstand. Damn.  
The twins went first, followed by Angelina and then Lish. They all did it right, even if they didn't set world records.  
"Your turn, Katie."  
Oh well, guess I've got to try.  
I did a neat surface dive to reach down to the sandy lake bottom, but before I could fully straighten my legs, I lost my balance and toppled over. I surfaced, and smiled ruefully at Oliver.  
"Sorry - I was never any good at those."  
"You'll be good at them yet, Bell. Try again."  
I tried a second and a third time with even less success, much to my embarrassment.  
"Alright then, Bell, just let Harry do his, and then stay behind and I'll help you." Oliver glared Alicia's giggles into silence.  
"Fine. Just no tickling, or I might have to kick you again." I frowned at him and sat discontentedly on a rock.  
  
Harry surprised us all by staying under the longest, despite the fact that the twins kept poking his knees, which are, by the way, still rather knobbly.  
Oliver dispatched the rest of the team to dry off and get back to the Tower.  
"Alright, Katie, your turn." I *love* the way he says "alright" - he makes it sound like "a'richt". Heehee.  
"Katie? Here, I'll help you. . ."  
I dived down, and felt his hands gently guide my hips up. I straightened my legs, pointing my toes in the direction I hoped was straight up. I stayed down for quite a while - I think the sensation of Oliver's hands on my bare stomach made me forget I needed oxygen.  
Eventually I bucked free of his hands and came up, spluttering.  
"Not bad - you only missed Harry by seven seconds. Give it one more go."  
Sure. Anything to have your hands on my hips again.  
Mentally cursing myself as pathetic, I took a deep breath and made my second attempt. Once more I felt him steadying my hips. . . Were his hands creeping down - or rather up - a little? Maybe it was just some waterweed or something that was brushing against my behind???  
Whatever it was, I wasn't going to let it mess up my chance at beating Harry, so I concentrated on letting my breath out slowly. When I came up, I had beaten Harry by 1.2 seconds. I am good - have I told you that before? You may have noticed I don't have too many self-esteem issues.  
"Good work. See if you can improve next time, alright?"  
I rolled my eyes. "Never satisfied, huh, Wood?" Ooh. Bad choice of words, Bell. Let's hope he doesn't notice.  
Damn. I think that smirk meant he did. Uh oh.  
To avoid having to look at him, I pulled myself out onto the bank, and reached for my towel. Ick - I remembered it was still wet from Oliver's cannonball. Ah hah. Oliver's not the only one that knows the meaning of payback.  
I grabbed his towel, and, wrapping it around me, began to run up the grounds to the castle.  
Behind me I heard him curse and heave out of the water. Looking back, I saw him running after me. I quickened my pace, but the fact that I was giggling madly meant he was gaining on me rapidly. Shit.  
If you can't win by brawn, win by brains.  
I stopped and, wrapping his towel around my lower half, I reached under and quickly pulled off my tankini bottom.  
I turned around, holding the towel in place with one hand and my bottoms in the other, an evil smirk fighting for control of my face.  
Oliver ran up, and stopped, clearly surprised at my tactics.  
"You wouldn't be so rude as to demand your towel now, would you, Mr. Wood?"  
He shook his head ruefully, as one who knows he's been outwitted. Victory to Katie Bell of Gryffindor!  
Apparently Oliver wasn't finished with me yet, though. "Well, how am I going to dry off then - I can't use your towel, can I?"  
I shrugged. "It's your fault it's wet."  
"That's beside the point. The fact remains that I need to get dry - I guess you'll just have to share the towel."  
What the hell? He thinks I'm going to take off the towel in front of him? Ya, right. Whatever, Wood.  
"You wish. There is no way I am taking this towel off."  
"I didn't mean you to." He untucked the towel from around my waist as I stood in shock, wondering where this was leading and wishing more than ever that my mother had lived for me to be able to talk these things over with her.  
Oliver did not seem to have designs on my chastity, however. He gently slid the towel up my body, carefully keeping his eyes trained on my face.  
He stood there for a moment, holding me at arm's length, little rivulets of water still running down his well-defined chest. The he closed the towel behind me and stepped in so that his chest was up against the towel, which was up against me.  
Oh. My. God. I am standing on the grounds of my school, in full view of anyone and everyone, chest to chest with a wet, half-dressed (or half- naked - whichever you prefer), super-sexy Oliver Wood.  
He rubbed against the towel slightly, crushing my chest a little. I guess guys don't know that hurts. That thought brought me back from Oliver- induced heaven.  
"Oliver, as much as I love sharing a towel with you, maybe the front lawn of Hogwarts isn't quite the place. . ." I smirked.  
He jerked back - out of Katie-induced heaven? Ya right - I wish!  
"Find your own towel." I stuck out my tongue and, wrapping the towel firmly around my hips, I bent down and retrieved my bottoms, which had fallen in the dirt. Then I turned around and walked determinedly back to the castle. Halfway there, I heard him call out after me that it *was* his bloody towel, but I pretended I hadn't heard.  
I made it up to Gryffindor Tower without running into Peeves, Filch, Mrs. Norris, or the Bloody Baron, making myself feel very lucky indeed.  
When I entered my dorm my good luck deserted me. Ange and Lish sat on their respective beds, waiting for me.  
"So, Katie . . ." Lish began. Uh oh. This can't be good.  
Ange continued, "You said something back there about kicking him "again" . . . When did you kick him the first time?"  
"And why are you wrapped in a towel and holding my bottoms in your hand?" Lish chimed in.  
Ange giggled. "That's not her towel, Lish. Hmm, whose do you think it could be . . .?"  
"Wrapped in Oliver's towel, not wearing swimsuit bottoms, and took abnormally long to get back up here. I'd say our little Katie's been a naughty girl . . ." Lish summed up. Put it that way, and it did sound pretty bad.  
I just groaned and went to shower.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
A/N: Hehehe! I swear it's possible to get high on fluff! Oh, and in case any of you think it's really weird how fast these couples move from one stage to the next, I just thought I would mention that a large degree of flirtation is assumed beforehand (except perhaps in the case of Percy and Penelope). If I was going to write about all of that this wouldn't be a K/O fic, now would it? Therefore, to any and all protective, clucking mother hens, please note that I am not encouraging indiscriminate sexual activity and that anyway this is rated PG13. *wipes remnants of steam condensation from around ears* OK, now that I got through that, on to my beloved reviewers!!!!!!!!!! 


	6. Notes To Reviewers

Sorry, I couldn't put this at the end of the last chapter 'cuz it wouldn't upload properly that way (don't ask me why. . .).  
  
NOTES TO MY SIMPLY FAnTAbULOuS REVIEWERS (after the chapter Truth or Dare):  
  
Elle-poohbear - Alright, alright - here's your next chapter already!  
  
jillian - Ya, more for you too. Hope you liked all the O/K.  
  
Jennifer - Of course Oliver in trunks is a tease - I have to amuse myself (and all of you) somehow. =-P  
  
Saoirse the Irish Colleen - FA - that's Fiction Alley, right? Snazzy. Hope you didn't mind the R/Hr too much.  
  
Pris - Yep, gotta love O/K.  
  
Tawny - Awww! I love you! You make me feel awesome! =-) Yes, it is definitely easier for me to write about Oliver and Katie than about Ron or Harry or Hermione - I'm always afraid I'll contradict something in the books when I write about the star threesome.  
  
Ican'tthinkofanything - Hehe, nice name. Hope you like the longer chapter. I tried to put in some extra dialogue just for you. =-)  
  
moanda - Tell your friend that we all (well, all us gals, anyway) can be Katie when we read fanfiction . . . Why do you think I write from Katie's POV? lol Oh, and about the broom line, just substitute "bike" and it works just as well in real life. ;-)  
  
Jon - Glad you like it. =-)  
  
Quidditch - Great screen name!!! Yep, O/K rules!  
  
kally - Hope this update was soon enough for ya. =-)~  
  
SarkChik88 - Ok, Ok, you got more Oliver. Happy now? =-P  
  
Wes - Aww! Glad you think this is well written. I always knew English class would come in handy some day. . .  
  
mitz - Hehe - awesome and spiffy are two of my fave words too. . . =-p  
  
Jenny - Thanks for your detailed review! It's longer, OK? I'm doing my best to sate my readers' appetites. =-)  
  
Sugary-Sweet*Pear - Sweet name. (Sorry, couldn't help myself. . .) Thanks for the review!  
  
May Oak - I know there was only a little taste of Harry in this one, but I promise he's coming up soon. . . I know a lot of people think of Katie as blonde, but I guess we should give Oliver credit for liking her even if she isn't typically gorgeous. (lol - no offense to all the blondes out there =- )~)  
  
dancing naked - (Hey - I do that all the time . . . lol j/k) Too cute? Uh oh . . . Lol don't worry I know what you mean.  
  
AllyCat - Ahh yes, truth or dare can make or break relationships. . . as can spin the bottle and several other seemingly harmless party games. . . Swimsuited!Oliver served up just for you . . . well, and all the other raving heterosexual females out there, including myself . . .  
  
muffhead - Which bits of background? Let me know! I love constructive criticism! If I've got ya hooked, I guess I must be doing something right . . . =-)  
  
itefaq/KAP - Well, I've got past one round of exams. Hope you enjoyed your update. =-)  
  
i fling poo - Thanks for your reviews! Hope you got a big enough dose of O?K in this chappie.  
  
swimgirl - Thanks! Don't worry, I got my reviews!  
  
Ill in the head/umm. . ./band_freak714 - Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Lol, don't worry, we all have days like that. ;-) (Some more than others. . . I'm definitely on the "more" side of things. . .)  
  
Whew! That was A LOT of reviews to reply to. . . Aren't I virtuous? Anyway, keep them coming and I'll keep updating! You know the drill - 15 reviews and I'll update. =-)  
Next chapter: Ginny/Harry, Lish and Ange interrogate Katie, and lots more O/K (I promise, really I do!)  
But only if you review! So hurry up!  
  
I need to have this sign in my house: WARNING: HARDHATS MANDATORY HEAVY HINTS DROPPED HERE  
  
15 REVIEWS!!!!! Love you all. 


	7. The Boy Who Finally Clued In

A/N: Ok, I didn't actually get the number of reviews I asked for, but then OotP came out and everything . . . (which you should all read, by the way, even if it means you need to come and read fluffy fanfiction like this to cheer yourself up afterwards). And anyway I'm not sure I can wait to hear what you guys have to say about this chappie so I thought I'd just post it now anyway . . .  
I've done my best at keeping this contemporary with the third book (apart from the fact that none of our featured couples are evident there and that Katie and Oliver are not actually in the same year. . . but that's just fine . . . it's called . . . what was it? Oh ya . . . artistic license. . . Hehe, I hope that'll cover it). Anyway, it is kinda hard since I began writing this before the 5th book came out and now I've read the fifth book and it's hard to keep track of it all . . . Anyway, before my rambling makes your minds as muddled as mine, I think I'll send you on to the rest of the story (Notes to Reviewers at end).  
  
Disclaimer: The plot's mine, as are the referre relatus spell and the powers of Relating. Other than that, pretty much all of it belongs to the lovely and talented JKR. Please don't sue me! (as mentioned before . . . I - DON'T - HAVE - ANYTHING - YOU - WOULD - WANT!!!!)  
  
Rating Warning (as suggested by reviewer "I fling poo"): This is rated PG13 since I think that most thirteen year olds will have no problem with it. However, tender souls be warned that sexuality and heavy flirtation are rampant! =-)  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
Relating Relations ~ Chapter Five: The Boy-Who-Finally-Clued-In  
  
The Boy-Who-Finally-Clued-In - that's what we call Harry. It's provided a lot of amusement over the three months since he *finally* got together with Ginny. Ok, Ok, I'll tell you the whole thing.  
  
.~*~.  
  
Well, it's no mystery to anyone that Ginny's liked Harry from the very start. Even he knew that. For a while I wondered if he would notice - sometimes I think he's so busy being troubled about You-Know-Who he doesn't really notice that much. Well, at least he notices the snitch, so I'm not complaining.  
Eventually she managed to get over her blushing every time he talked to her, and started behaving like a normal girl instead of one who's got a bad case of Rudolphitis. They started hanging out a bit more when Ron and Hermione got together - can't blame them really - I wouldn't want to be stuck in a room with two people who are liable to break out into passionate fighting or passionate snogging at any time either. Their relationship runs deeper than many around here - they've both seen You-Know-Who and I guess what happened down there last year created a sort of bond between them.  
As I suspected, Ginny ended up being the one to make the first move.  
You know how boys are supposed to start it all by asking girls out? Well, as Hermione says, that's total rubbish since boys are, well, not generally as emotionally mature as girls. (A/N: Too bad this is set before the fifth book - I would just *love* to go through some of what Hermione had to say on this subject!!!)  
Anyway, Ginny came to watch Harry and the twins at practice one day, under the pretense of wanting to do some research on the aerodynamics of Quaffles (in order to be able to spot a bewitched or transfigured one from the real thing). After practice was over, she waited for Harry to come out of the changing rooms (luckily he's always out before Fred and George, who take inordinately long due to their inability to do anything the simple way).  
Harry was a little shocked to see her there.  
"G-Ginny? Why are you here?"  
"Oh, just to do some research into the aerodynamics of official Quaffles as compared to those transfigured, bewitched, or otherwise altered." She smiled at his slightly glazed expression. "Actually, I'm here to talk to you."  
Harry gave her a questioning look. "What about?"  
Ginny gave a quick glance at the changing rooms and was reassured by a loud explosion that the twins were still inside. "Not here." She led him around the corner of the castle and into a little grove of trees. She settled herself on a tree stump and motioned Harry to do the same, which he did, although he still looked confused.  
Ginny took a deep breath. "Ok, I've got two things to say to you. The first one is I-think-I-still-have-a-crush-on-you-and-I-think-you-might-have- one-on-me-too-so-can-we-go-out-together-maybe?" Seeing Harry's confused look, she added, "Of course, it's fine if you don't want to or whatever. . ."  
"Ginny? I didn't understand anything you said there . . . But I was wondering . . ." - it was Harry's turn to take a deep breath - "Will-you-go- out-with-me-sometime?"  
At the time I was open to this conversation, I was still in the shower back in the changing rooms, but this particular exchange struck me as so funny I let out a great snort of laughter. I made up an excuse ("Sorry, just swallowed a bunch of water. . ."), but I don't think Ange and Lish were convinced. Anyway, it's at times like this I wish I could reveal my ability and just put people out of their misery.  
But to get back to the story. . .  
Fortunately Ginny seemed to have a better capacity for understanding high-speed talk (probably due to being housed in a girls' dorm rather than a boys'), and so flushed and said, "Of course I will! That's what I just asked you . . ."  
"Oh." Harry looked a little foolish for a moment (although not to Ginny's eyes), then continued. "Well, I'm not allowed to go to Hogsmead, but then neither are you, right? But I guess that would be the best time, since Ron and Hermione will be gone-" He paused and then said quietly, "Ginny - what are we going to tell your brothers?"  
  
.-- * --.  
  
In the end they got all that sorted out - partly through Wood's insistence that the twins not injure their Seeker, it must be admitted - and now they've been added to the list of Hogwarts' Official Couples. Which I am not on, I might mention. *sigh*  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
When I got back, clean and fresh, my hair wrapped up in a fresh towel, Ange and Lish were still waiting for me.  
I rolled my eyes and walked past them over to my closet, where I proceeded to dig around for something to throw on. I felt their eyes following me.  
"Don't you two have homework or studying or *something* you should be doing?" I asked, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice.  
"Oh come on, Katie, you know we'll get it out of you eventually. . ." Angelina was always an excellent wheedler. And she was right. Eventually I would tell them.  
I turned around, holding my hands up in defeat. "Ok, ok, what do you want to know?"  
I pulled a black pair of jeans and a green alpaca-wool sweater (jumper) out of my closet and tossed them on the bed.  
"When did you kick Oliver before?"  
Shirt, I need a shirt . . .  
"On the way back from Divination on Tuesday." I excavated a white top, only partially wrinkled, from behind my dress robes.  
"Why?"  
"'Cuz he asked for it - why d'you think? I don't go kicking guys for no reason, you know." There was a silence which I felt was meant to hint that I probably did. "I do not!" I insisted.  
"Suuuure you don't, Katie," Lish teased. "What did he do to deserve it then?"  
"Oh, you know, he was being silly and I sort of fell on him, and then he kinda - um - checked I was okay . . ."  
"Ooooh! He kissed you! I knew he had! I knew it!" Ange squealed.  
I sighed. Trust Ange to jump to conclusions. "No, he didn't. He just made sure I didn't have any broken bones or anything . . . And then he said maybe it needed closer inspection, and started to untuck my shirt, so I kicked him." I tried to be matter-of-fact about it, but I don't think they were convinced. I slipped into my jeans and reached for my top.  
"Oh my God! Oliver started to strip you in the middle of the hallway! He must really like you, huh, Katie?"  
I pulled my top over my head and turned to face them. "Give it a rest, will you - he's an eighteen-year-old guy, OK? - It probably doesn't mean anything."  
"Alright, alright, grumpy. But I bet he likes you." Lish gave me an infuriating grin and pulled her bed curtains shut.  
I groaned in frustration and shrugged into my sweater. "I'm heading down to the common room to study, 'k guys?"  
Two indeterminate grunts were my only answer. I gathered my Herbology notes together and headed down the stairs.  
The Weasley twins were making a lot of noise even by their standards, but I managed to secure a table in one of the more secluded corners. I drew out my notes and, with a sigh, began to review magical plants.  
Abyssinian shrivelfig - that's that Potions ingredient with an annoyingly tough skin. Alihotsy - that's the one that gives you hysteria if you eat its leaves. Isn't that what happened to that Hufflepuff girl last year? Bubotubers - eww those things are SO disgusting. Dittany . . .  
I continued to scan down the list of magical plants Professor Sprout had told us to review for a quiz tomorrow. Why do they make us review all this stuff? I mean, I know we have our NEWTs coming up and everything, but do we really have to know all that stuff that we learnt back in, like, fourth year?  
"I expect so . . . it'll probably be on the exams and everything."  
Uh oh. Was I talking out loud?  
Oliver flopped down in the chair next to me.  
"Uh - hi. Was I talking to myself?"  
"Yep, sure sign of insanity." He said, giving me a cheery smile.  
"What are you so happy about?" I was embarrassed and desperately trying to bury it in a pit of grumpiness.  
"Well I love you too." Oliver can be just as sarcastic as I can when he wants. Too bad he was being sarcastic there. Sigh.  
"Katie?"  
"What?" I snapped. Then I sighed and, thumping my binder shut, slumped back in my chair. "Sorry - too much to study, too little time. Which is mainly *your* fault, I might add." I poked him playfully in the chest.  
"So I make you come outside. It's good for you."  
"Ya, and you make me lose precious hours of sleep." I yawned to emphasize my point.  
"Oh - up all night pining after me, are you?" He smirked.  
Well duh. Of course I am.  
"That is *not* what I meant, you great prat." Even if it's true, I thought. I yawned again.  
"Alright, come on, time for bed young lady. Can't have my team collapsing from exhaustion, now, can I?"  
I contemplated pointing out that his training techniques were likely to make us do just that, but I knew I would just be wasting my breath, so I just sank further into my chair and raised my eyebrows at him.  
"Make me."  
"Is that a challenge, Miss Bell?" Oooh how many times do I have to say I loooove his accent. Just a few more million.  
"Very possibly." I stifled another yawn.  
He smirked at me and bent down over my chair. Damn it, Oliver, don't look at me like that. I put my head on one side, doing my best to look unimpressed.  
He just laughed at me and scooped me up in his arms - which feel very strong, by the way. . .  
"Oi! Put me down." I giggled, flapping feebly at his encircling arms. He just chuckled softly in my ear, making me want to wriggle in his arms. I think it's time for good ol' payback to come out and play.  
He started to move towards the stairway to the boys' dorms.  
"Never knew you moved so fast . . ." I let my words hang between us. He flushed and mumbled something.  
"Sorry, didn't quite catch that. . . If you want me to hear what you're saying, I suggest you stop talking to my chest." Hehe I'm having fun now.  
"Katieee . . . Stop it."  
"Stop what?" I gave him the full benefit of my dazzlingly innocent smile. He gulped.  
"You know . . ."  
"I know what, Oliver?" Sometimes I'm just evil.  
"Nevermind."  
I just shrugged.  
We stood still for a moment, while I reveled in the warmth that was Oliver and he drifted in his own daydreams.  
"Oliver . . .?" I began tentatively after several minutes. He started, nearly dropping me, making me throw my arms around his neck to save myself from a fall.  
Suddenly I was face to face with him, and neither of us was joking now. He stared into my eyes for a moment, searching for something, and then began to lean in -  
"WOOD! BELL!"  
This time Oliver really did drop me.  
I looked up from the floor to see Fred grinning at us from the opposite sofa.  
"What the hell do you want, Weasley?" I looked up at Oliver, surprised by the amount of emotion in his voice.  
"Please, sir, I was just wondering if you would sign my chocolate frog, sir," Fred simpered. I snorted.  
"Glad you think it's funny. You have no idea." Oliver muttered.  
"TEAM! BED!" Crazy-Quidditch-obsessed Wood was back. Great Fred, thanks for ruining my moment.  
  
I grabbed Oliver's arm and pulled myself up from the floor. He gave me a brief searching glance before letting go of my arm. We stood together for a moment, neither looking at the other, before he muttered "'Night" and headed off up the stairs to his dorm.  
As I stared after him a hand waved in front of my face. I spun 'round to see Fred grinning infuriatingly at me again, holding.  
"You had better be really really glad Ange likes you, Fred Weasley!" Whoa. I think my grumpiness just came back.  
Fred seemed to notice too. "Ok, ok, Katie, I'm sorry I broke up your little "moment"." He snickered.  
God he is *such* a prat.  
"Stuff it, Weasley." I grabbed a canary cream from the desk behind me and shoved it in his face, and then Summoned my Herbology binder and stormed up the stairs.  
When I reached my dorm I slammed the door behind me and threw my binder in a corner, ignoring its protests. I threw myself onto the bed and punched my pillow a couple of times.  
I lay in fuming silence for about a minute before I heard a tentative, "Katie. . .?" from Lish's bed. I remained silent.  
"Want to talk about it, hun?" That was Ange.  
"No." I grumbled.  
"You sure?"  
"Go ask your boyfriend."  
"What? What did he do?" Ange actually sounded anxious now.  
"Well it's not really that big a deal . . ." I relented a little.  
She came and sat on my bed. "Tell me."  
"Well he kind of - um - interrupted Oliver and my - uh - "moment" . . . ." I hid my face in my pillow as Ange burst into relieved laughter.  
"Oh Katie," she giggled. "You have really got it bad, haven't you?"  
"Duh." Lish threw herself on my bed, making it creak.  
I smiled at them ruefully. "Ya, well, I'm not the only one, am I?" Lish and Ange just looked at each other and smiled happily.  
I sighed. Not my fault that they're with the guys they like. Well, it kinda is, partly, but you know what I mean.  
"Don't worry, Katie," Alicia reassured me. "Your turn'll come soon. I'm positive Oliver likes you - enough for you guys to have a "moment" anyway. . ." She trailed off, looking at me amusedly. Sigh.  
"Ya, well, nothing happened." I furrowed my brow. "Thanks to Fred." I glared at Ange.  
"Don't worry, I'll get revenge on him for you." I smiled at the thought of what Ange could do if she wanted, and I felt pity for him.  
"It's ok, I already shoved a canary cream in him face." I cracked up at the thought of it.  
"Haha. You go girl." Lish gave me a high-five. Ange just shook her head at me, smirking.  
"Ok girls, I'm gonna call it a night." I delved under my pile of pillows for my pjs.  
"Yep, gotta get your beauty sleep . . . Never know what might show up in your dorm at 5:30, do you?" Lish laughed and ducked out of sight before I could throw anything at her.  
  
When I snuggled under my quilt a few minutes later, it was with pleasant thoughts of Oliver dancing around my brain. Nevermind the confusing bit. I was now almost positive that he liked me. I couldn't be happier. Well, maybe one or two things?  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
A/N: OK, now that I got through that, on to my lil shouts to my reviewers. . .  
  
NOTES TO MY SiMPLy DahLiNG REVIEWERS:  
  
Purple Spotted Hedwig - So glad you liked it! Sorry, I'll try not to get your hopes up by putting any more chapters of only notes to reviewers.  
  
pixydust - Yay! Thank you so much for your kind review. Sorry if the towel thing was a little tricky . . . It's kinda hard to explain in words (just an image in my mind, ya know?). Anyway, for those of you who were confused, let's try again . . . Katie had her top on but not her bottoms, and she had the towel wrapped around her waist, right? So Oliver untucked the towel and moved it up so it covered her chest - so basically he slid it up her. And naturally it's a big towel (probably with a picture of something Quidditch-related, knowing Oliver) so it still covered her bottom half. Hope that helps clear this up!  
  
The Mighty Quin - Love to yourself and all the dedicated O/K shippers . . . Of course, who wouldn't be . . . I mean, HELLO!, this is OLIVER we're talking about. ;-)  
  
itefaq - Of course! The more intense the better hehe. What would you say the score is now? Lol  
  
AllyCat - I know! FF.net's problems were so oh-my-God frustrating!!!! How's a little session of being in Sean's arms? Let's face it, all us girls out here picture ourselves as Katie . . .  
  
kat6528 - Hope this chapter's up to expectations. =-) (And hurry up and update your story again too, would ya?)  
  
swimgirl - No problem! 15 hours??? Eek, that's harsh. Hope you've made a full recovery.  
  
Jessica - Thanks for the review! Here's your update as requested - hope you liked it. =-)  
  
Elle-poohbear - Yay! People think I'm funny! (wait . . . that's a compliment, right? lol j/k)  
  
OK, peeps, that's all for this time - 15 reviews and I'll update . . . Is this asking too much?  
  
Next Chapter: George/Alicia, Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw, and Confused!Katie and equally Confused!Oliver!!!! Hehehe.. (is that enough to get you to review? Lol I hope so)  
  
15 REVIEWS!!!  
  
Toodleoo.  
  
.-MadMadamMim--. 


	8. Unexpected Kisses

A/N: Yay! Sorry it took me so long to post again. Yes I feel guilty. Leave me alone. I'm making up for it by writing a nice long chappie for you all. (that means I would also like a lot of reviews.please? pretty please?)  
  
Disclaimer: The plot's mine, as are the referre relatus spell and the powers of Relating. Other than that, pretty much all of it belongs to the lovely and talented JKR. Some of this chapter comes directly from the book, but please don't sue me! Basically, none of this is mine, but I love it anyway.  
  
Rating Warning: This is rated PG13 since I think that most thirteen year olds will have no problem with it. However, tender souls be warned that sexuality and heavy flirtation (and mild swearing) are rampant! =-)  
  
NOTES TO MY BeLOvEd REVIEWERS:  
  
Random Person - Thanks for your great review! There may just be an unruined moment in here somewhere for you . . . or maybe not . . . *evil author cackles*  
  
Silver - Double meanings are my specialty. As I mentioned up there (*points*), a "moment" will be shortly upcoming (did that make sense? sure . . .) Maybe not this chapter, but soon . . .. pwomise. =-)  
  
Bell - Hey, History isn't Hogwarts best class either . . . Thanks for reviewing. =-)  
  
kat6528 - I know, I'm evil (or rather Fred is . . .). Keep updating your story!  
  
AllyCat - Your review made me smile . . .grin . . .well, ok, laugh insanely (but in a happy way . . . lol) I hope you'll get your prescribed dose of Oliver/Sean in this chappie. =-)  
  
itefaq - What? Oliver winning? Hmm . . . I guess I might have to do something about that . . . *remembers that she is an unbaised author, not Katie* or maybe not . . . Anyway . . . keep reviewing! Glad you understand the psychology behind Oliver's actions (very reassuring to authors).  
  
swimgirl - Hehehe.. I take all the publicity I can get. That would be fabulous. =-) Glad I don't have to pay you, as I have no money . . . Well, a lil bit, but not enough to buy advertising space . . . *sigh*  
  
Professional Scatterbrain - Yay! I'm amazing! *does happy dance* Yes, reviews make me VERY happy (hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge to all of you out there hehe)  
  
Kat - Glad u r enjoying my versions of Katie and Oliver so much . . . Who doesn't love Ollie? (eewww that nickname is just wrong . . . in my opinion)  
  
loyalreader - Sorry I couldn't update sooner . . . I have a busy summer schedule. *sigh* U r right - Oliver is damn hot - ppl don't advise falling in love with your own creation (*looks around for disclaimer police* alright, alright, JKR's creation . . .) - hmm . . .there's an old Greek myth about that . . ..  
  
Ican'tthinkofanything - Oooooh..! You wouldn't change anything . . . that means it's good, right? *scratches head* Sorry, it's obscenely early here . . . Here's your update, complete with dialogue . . . =-)  
  
elvencherry07 - Quality fluff sold here! Well, given, actually, since I'm not making any money, but you know what I mean . . .  
  
Dazlgall86 - So glad I've got you into O/K! Check my favourite stories list from my author page for some good ones . . . =-)  
  
Queen Anne - Wow! Thanks for that long review. I promise to try and make it more interesting . . . It is hard to make Katie hear/feel things at random as she walks down the hall, because I don't want to confuse my readers too much! But I will see what I can do . . .  
  
BoPeep - Hope you haven't died yet cuz I didn't post right away . . . Hopefully this chapter (which is on the long side for this story, btw) will keep you alive for a little while longer.  
  
Jen - Awwwww!!! Your review made me squeal (what? U got a problem with that? Lol) Glad u r liking it. =-)  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
Relating Relations ~ Chapter Six: Unexpected Kisses  
  
When I first met Alicia Spinnet she was a cunning but deceivingly quiet little girl. We didn't get along at first; it all started with an ugly incident concerning a pumpkin pastie on the Hogwarts Express on the way to school for the first time. Basically, I said I thought this popular group of Muggle girl singers sucked, and she disagreed. So she threw her pumpkin pastie at me, splattering all over my new Hogwarts robes (which is perfectly reasonable, really . . .). I was livid, of course, but she avoided my clutches (by playing the lost-little-girl-who-just-happened-to- find-the-Prefect-carriage). I got my own back, though. On the way across the lake with Hagrid, she was in the boat just to the right of me. As we got out on the Hogwarts side, I managed to push her in - without being caught! And this was even before I met the Weasley twins (see? Some of the credit belongs to me . . .).  
  
Our rivalry lasted even after she got over her liking for this particular group (A/N: which shall remain nameless so we don't have fights breaking out in the review folder). Quidditch was at its centre in our fourth year: while I made the team, Alicia was listed only as a reserve.  
  
I suppose I can thank Wood for ending our feud. When he brought Alicia onto the team in our fifth year, he made it plain that it was essential for the Chasers o work effectively as a team. Angelina had always somehow managed to be friends with us both, and was often the mediating force in our dormitory. It was also our fifth year when Harry joined the team. For the first time, I felt like we truly had a shot at winning the cup - and I wasn't going to let some silly schoolgirl fight get in the way of my (and Oliver's) goal.  
  
So we made up. It was remarkably easy once we both agreed. We got to know each other and often laugh now about how stupid we were to have missed out on years of friendship. Now we're great friends, although we still have different taste in music.  
  
Alicia has always been a little shy around boys, unlike Angelina and myself. Still, she's a good lookin' girl and she's had her fair share of dates. But she didn't get together with George until about a month after Harry and Ginny.  
  
I can't remember exactly what the disagreement was about, but I think it had something to do with George flipping Alicia's broom over to make her miss the Quaffle. You know that the Weasley twins find it hard to be serious for longer than thirty seconds.  
  
At the end of practice Alicia was still fuming and George was beginning to get mad that she was taking a little joke so seriously (Can you tell he likes her? Not like he normally cares what his victims think of his pranks . . .). They yelled at each other on the way off the pitch and then made such a row inside the locker rooms that Wood emerged from the Captain's office.  
  
"What's the trouble?" He asked, exchanging a knowing glance with Angelina, Fred, who were standing behind the angry pair, fighting to keep their composure.  
  
I was over by my locker. "Oh, they just had a little fight." I told Oliver. "Honestly, it's like they're married or something." I added in a not-so-quiet mutter.  
  
This was too much for Fred and Ange, who burst in to giggles. Oliver made no attempt to disguise his smirk. He took a couple of steps towards George and Alicia, and placed his left hand on Alicia's shoulder and his right on George's.  
  
"Now, you two. You know I can't tolerate fights between teammates." He paused. "Well, go on, then, kiss and make up." George and Alicia darted nervous galnces at each other, looking away when the other caught them. They were both rather red.  
  
Oliver cleared his throat, waiting and prompting.  
  
Alicia glared at him, but slowly turned her face up, and rose on her toes to kiss George's freckled cheek. George decided it was now or never, and, as Alicia closed her eyes, turned his head so that he caught her lips with his. Alicia pulled back in shock, but then laughed and pulled his head down to hers again. The locker room echoed with our applause and laughter.  
  
George and Alicia didn't even stop when a locker door slammed. I jumped, and, looking beside me, saw Harry glaring at the snogging couple.  
  
"Something the matter, Harry?" asked Wood lightly.  
  
Harry muttered something.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Snogging, snogging, snogging.. snogging in the common room, snogging in the stair wells, and now snogging in the bloody locker room!" Harry continued to mutter.  
  
"Having girl trouble, Harry?" Wood smirked.  
  
Harry glanced nervously at the Weasley twins. Fortunately, Fred had followed his twin's example and there were now two snogging couples. "Ginny.snogging." Harry mumbled.  
  
"You mean you haven't yet?" Wood sounded incredulous.  
  
"Well, it's only been a month." Harry sounded defensive. "Not that we don't want to.just that we can't get away from that troupe of baboons she has for brothers." He glared even more at the twins. "But ya, I'm a little nervous." He confessed.  
  
Wood seemed to find playing the older-and-more-experienced-guy highly amusing. "Harry, it's quite simple. Just like this."  
  
All of a sudden he grabbed my arm and swung me up against him. Suddenly his lips were bearing down in my face. I couldn't resist. I turned my head so that his lips reached my cheek instead. I winked at Harry. How could I miss such an opportunity to poke fun at Oliver?  
  
Speaking of Oliver, he was looking embarrassed but was laughing it off well.  
  
"Right, Oliver, I'll keep that in mind." Harry chuckled and disappeared into the boys' showers.  
  
"Very funny, Bell."  
  
"I thought so." I said brightly and matched past him. He would never know how much I wanted him to kiss me.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
I woke up refreshed and happy. Why am I so happy? Maybe it's because it's Saturday. No classes.  
  
Wait, I remember! I think Oliver likes me!!!  
  
I took forever dressing (hey, I know he's supposed to like me for my inside not my outside and all that, but I figure looking good never hurts.), much to my best friends' amusement.  
  
When I reached the common room, I spotted Oliver sitting in a corner, brooding over a pile of Quidditch books and magazines. I walked over, and perched on the arm of his chair. When he made no acknowledgement of my presence, I grabbed The Quidditch Compendium from him and tossed it on a table.  
  
"Morning, Oliver." I said, smiling.  
  
He just frowned at me, and reached for the Compendium again. I sat in silence for a moment or two, in shock. When he continued to ignore me, I waved my hand in front of his face.  
  
"What?" He looked at me. Finally.  
  
"Um . . . hi?"  
  
"Hi." He went back to his book.  
  
I waved my hand in front of him again.  
  
"Oh, get out of it, Katie!" He said irritably.  
  
What the hell?  
  
I got up and walked over to the portrait hole. I looked back and saw Oliver still with his nose in his book. Why do I get the feeling he's concentrating really hard on ignoring me?  
  
By the time I reached the Great Hall and breakfast, I had worked myself into a horrible mood. I mean, talk about a slap in the face. First, the guy practically strips you in the hallway, then he sees too much at 5:30 in the morning, then flirts with you in the water AND when you're half- naked. And finally he almost kisses you. And then he won't even TALK TO YOU????? I do not understand. Bloody hell. I smacked a piece of toast down violently, causing crumbs to spray all over myself and Percy, who happened to be sitting next to me.  
  
"Really, Katie." He said in a reproachful voice.  
  
"Stuff it, Weasley!" I yelled for the second time in under twelve hours. Percy looked taken aback, but said nothing. I stood up, and, grabbing my toast, stalked out of the Hall again.  
  
I stopped by the window next to the portrait of Sir Sylvester the Silly to calm down. I have really got to get these moods under control. But Oliver is SO -- urgh, I don't know what to call it. God. But it wasn't Percy's fault . . . Ya, well, maybe the Weasleys should just keep their freckles out of my life. I don't really mean that. No, but I just wish-  
  
I took a deep breath, gazing at the bright blue sky. Why did it have to be so nice out? It didn't match my mood at all. Grrrr.  
  
Eventually I trudged back to my dorm to start on my homework.  
  
.~*~.  
  
I was in a bad mood all day. I managed to avoid everyone by hiding in my dorm all morning - Ange and Lish must have been with the twins or outside or something. I skipped lunch, merely snacking on some Chocolate Frogs I found under my desk. I was forced to emerge to check some dates for Professor Binns in the library. On my way back, I ran into Oliver. Fabulous.  
  
"Katie!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"We need to talk!"  
  
I'll say. But not now, thanks. "Leave me alone."  
  
"But . . . What? Why?" He looked completely bewildered.  
  
"Just leave me alone, okay?" I turned my back on him and walked away. He didn't come after me.  
  
When I was almost around the corner I heard him yell, "See you at practice - four o'clock!"  
  
.~*~.  
  
Back in my dorm I sank down on my bed. I wiped tears away, mad at myself for being so weak. I hate it when I'm like this. I scribbled in the dates I had looked up and set my History of Magic assignment aside.  
  
Still supressing sobs, I took out my Potions homework and began to slog through it. Luckily, I remembered the charm that Granger girl did on Harry's glasses. I wouldn't want Snape to think I'd been shedding tears over his essay, now, would I?  
  
I worked steadily, progressing to my Transfiguration assignment and then to my Charms work. I didn't notice the time fly by.  
  
Eventually Lish came to get me.  
  
"Katie? Where the hell have you been? You didn't show up for-" She stopped when she saw my tear-stained face. "Katie? What's up?"  
  
I shook my head. "Nothing. I'm fine."  
  
Lish didn't look convinced, but obviously decided to let it go because all she said was, "Well, you won't be if you don't hurry up. practice started twenty minutes ago!"  
  
"What? Oh . . . shit!" I scrambled to my feet, trying not to cry again. This is not what I need right now!  
  
.~*~.  
  
With Lish's help, I was only 20 minutes late for practice. Fortunately, Madame Hooch was talking to the team about something, so practice hadn't really started yet. Then I realized something - Madame Hooch was holding a Firebolt - Harry must have finally got it back from McGonagall! I grinned maniacally at Alicia, who was jumping up and down so she could get a closer look at it over George's shoulder.  
  
I glanced sheepishly at Oliver, and mouthed "Sorry I'm late." He just shrugged and smiled at me.  
  
Eventually Oliver managed to reclaim the Firebolt from Madame Hooch, who waxes rather lyrical when confronted by such wonderful specimens.  
  
Harry flew more fantastically than ever. Maybe some day I'll be able to afford a Firebolt . . . He caught the Snitch easily over and over - one time looping me before catching it next to my knee. It was amazing. The rest of us were spurred on to the closest to perfection we've ever been. Lish, Ange, and I performed our most complicated moves smoothly over and over.  
  
When Wood blew his whistle to signal the end of practice, we were pumped and reluctant to stop.  
  
"I can't see what's going to stop us tomorrow!" I agreed with Oliver completely. How could we lose? We had a FIREBOLT!  
  
"Not unless - Harry, you've sorted out your Dementor problem, haven't you?" Wood asked.  
  
But Harry assured us that he would be fine. Our whole team spent the rest of the evening in a kind of euphoria that could only be excelled by a win the next day.  
  
.~*~.  
  
Breakfast the next morning was one to be remembered. All of Gryffindor was nervous and excited, while the Slytherins were in shock. The Firebolt was placed in the middle of the table. Even that nasty little Malfoy couldn't get the better of us this morning - which is good, because our normally-so-polite Seeker just sees red when he's around sometimes . . .  
  
At 10:45, we went down to the pitch. The conditions were practically perfect. We changed in an excited silence. I felt the familiar butterflies that heralded an important match. Wood did too, apparently, because he didn't even give us his usual pep talk.  
  
We walked out onto the pitch. It seemed like the whole school was there, screaming their heads off.  
  
Wood and the Ravenclaw captain, Davies, shook hands. Madame Hooch blew her whistle, and we were off! This was it . . . We just HAD to win . . .  
  
Alicia took immediate possession of the Quaffle, and flew with it a short way before passing to Angelina. I flew above Ange, waiting, and received her pass crisply when Davies flew out to tackle her.  
  
I soared towards the Ravenclaw hoops, smiling at Harry as he streaked past. Alicia was flying below to the left, drawing the Keeper over . . . With a final burst of speed, I came within scoring range. I faked a quick pass to Alicia, then buried the Quaffle in the right hoop.  
  
"Yes!" I screamed as Alicia and I punched the air.  
  
I heard a roar of disappointment from the crowd. I looked around. Harry had clearly just seen the snitch but had missed it. A Bludger forced a Ravenclaw Beater to roll over in mid-air. Ahh. Now I understand.  
  
Angelina, Alicia and I worked flawlessly together. We built up an 80- nil lead before Ravenclaw scored - a new record for our trio.  
  
The score was 80-30 when Harry flew in pursuit of the Snitch for the second time. Yes! We were going to win! Suddenly he veered off course. Cho Chang, the little Ravenclaw Seeker, had blocked him. Remind me to make sure she gets injured again . . .  
  
Alicia had just scored when I heard Harry scream "Expecto patronum!" Turning, I saw a great, silvery stag shoot towards three dark figures on the ground below. Then Harry reached out and grabbed the Snitch. The boy never ceases to amaze me.  
  
Lish, Ange, and I flew over to Harry and each gave him a kiss, making him blush. The rest of the team joined us, and we sank to the ground, hugging each other and hollering.  
  
When we got back to Gryffindor Tower, a party was already in full swing. I was half way through my second Butterbeer when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to find Oliver only a few inches from me. I took a step backwards and looked up at him questioningly.  
  
He said something, but I couldn't hear it over the incredible noise of the party.  
  
"What?" I yelled.  
  
He pulled me out of the centre of the crowd. "Katie, we still need to talk . . ."  
  
I bit my lip. "'K. Where? We can't talk in here." I rolled my eyes towards the group of screaming, jumping people.  
  
Wood didn't say anything, but took my hand and led me towards the stairs to the boys' dorms.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
A/N: Yay! Another chappie done. Sorry for the slight cliffhanger there . . . *evil grin*  
  
I would like 20 reviews before I update again (please? It'll only take a minute . . . a minute to make my day . . . sounds like a pretty good deal . . . so please review. =-) As you know, the sooner you review, the sooner you'll find out what happens in Oliver's dorm . . . (more bribery and corruption).  
  
Toodles!  
  
Wait, don't go! Have you reviewed?  
  
There we go . . .  
  
Thanks.  
  
*author laughs her lil @$$ off at herself* 


	9. Unfinished Business

A/N: So sorry I didn't update soon. However, it wasn't my fault . . . The day before I went away I got up early, packed, and then spent the rest of the day writing this chappie. After proofing and everything, I was ready to post it, and then . . . FF.net broke. When I got up the next morning (at stupid o'clock - before five - ick!) I tried again . . . but to no avail. I got back from my trip late last night. Thanks to all my reviewers - you guys were great and you reviewed quickly! I love you all! To prove it, I've been good and updated! I feel so virtuous. ;-) Anyway, I won't be able to update for a little while - first of all because I'm going away for a bit, and secondly because the next chapter is going to be a fairly long one and I'll need to get it just right. Love you all - please keep the reviews coming! =-) We've reached the end of our "featured couples" segment, so from now on it's just Katie and Oliver. =-)  
  
Disclaimer: The plot's mine, as are the referre relatus spell and the powers of Relating. Other than that, pretty much all of it belongs to the lovely and talented JKR. Please don't sue me! If it were mine, I would be rich. Duh.  
  
Rating Warning: This is rated PG13 since I think that most thirteen year olds will have no problem with it. However, tender souls be warned that sexuality and heavy flirtation are rampant! =-)  
  
NOTES TO MY TReS TReS FOrMidABLe REVIEWERS:  
  
pixydust - Aww! I know - as I said up there somewhere (*gestures vaguely*), I'm going to be away for a little while, so you'll just have to live without me. *sniffles* I'll expect lots of reviews when you get back from whatever u r doing . . . With any luck there'll be more than one or two chappies waiting for you . . .  
  
kat6528 - Yay! Glad you liked it. =-) Keep updating your story.  
  
lillove - *sniffles* Thanks for your kind review. Glad you like my idea . . . It gets more . . . um . . . intense in this chappie. =-)  
  
Professional Scatterbrain - I think your hint might have worked . . . a second chapter only (*counts on fingers*) three days after my last one. I feel so virtuous. I'll just give you another hint that you should review . . . ***HINT*** Ahh, there we go, that feels better. (Yes, I know I'm strange . . . )  
  
Kruemel - There! I updated! Be happy!  
  
AllyCat - Yes, boys are . . . well, let's just leave it to Hermione in the 5th book. Glad you liked Harry's little piece there . . . I mean this is to be a HP fic, so it would be sad if he didn't come in somewhere . . . lol.  
  
elvencherry07 - Hmm. . . You like cliffies? OK, I'm sure I can manage another one in this chappie . . . *evil cackle*  
  
BoPeep - Yay! Glad I'm improving as I go along . . . I hope you still like it after the next couple chapters . . . I'm afraid it will get a little less fluffy and a little more angst-y (let's face it - you can't really write a *really* good story out of pure fluff . . . the more's the pity)  
  
itefaq - Hehe - thanks for keeping score. Please let me know the total after this chappie . . .  
  
Team Fresh - Glad you liked it & thanks for the review!!  
  
jen - Hope you like what Oliver has to say, even if it won't . . . perhaps . . . be the most eloquent thing you ever heard . . . not really up to Shakespeare's standards or what have you . . .  
  
QueenAnne - O/K FOREVER! Thanks for the review.  
  
Kat - What? Who said Ol & Kate are going to get together? *looks innocent* lmao j/k It is very hard to find the right balance re including stuff about Relating. There won't be much on the side of looking into relationships . . . but you will get some very interesting issues around Katie's powers. That's all I'm saying! *zips mouth shut* I have the whole story plotted out and everything . . . (these hints will make anyone who DIDN'T READ THIS sorry . . . *more evil cackles*)  
  
baby-grassie - Glad you have been introduced to good ol' O/K. For some good O/K fics, check my favourite stories list. BoPeep and swimgirl also have extensive listings . . . =-)  
  
Elle-poohbear - Uh-oh . . . Didn't mean to kill ya, hun! Hope you aren't so far gone that you can't be resurrected. =-)  
  
Ican'tthinkofanything - Yay! I can survive without criticism, don't worry. . . lol.  
  
J-chan - Of course it wasn't nice! I wouldn't be a good author if I was nice all the time, would I? (don't answer that)  
  
SkySearcher - Hehe. Maybe sometime I'll include a Shirtless!Oliver scene for you. Hey, maybe even this chappie . . . MAYBE. Yes, I'm evil. I know. =- )  
  
Allie-Marina - Wow! First things first: you are such a FABULOUS author. =-) (everyone go and read her stuff!) Thanks so much for your review. However, I do have a bone to pick with you . . . I'm updating . . . why aren't you? I really want to read the next installment of your fic from Oliver's POV (I am thinking of copying you (a form of flattery, of course *looks nervously for approval*) by doing an Oliver POV companion fic . . .)  
  
swimgirl - Congratulations! You are my 20th reviewer! What do you mean I might not get 20? Huh! LMAO j/k Anyway, you should all be thankful to my faithful reviewers that have made this update possible (yes, that's hint to all those of you out there who haven't reviewed yet lol)  
  
*** - Yay! It always makes me feel great to get more than I ask for! =-) So far I have not got an update email group that I send alerts out to, but if you all give me your email addies and ask nicely, I might be persuaded. (lol)  
  
May Oak/Katie Mae - Mmmmm. Thanks for the cookies . . . I have to admit that, being relatively new to the world of fanfiction, I don't know exactly what a pickle is . . . not that I can't guess . . . but if you let me know maybe I'll be able to fit something in for ya. But no promises. =-)P  
  
Amy - glad you like my idea. Yes - starting in this chapter, the Relating power will come to the forefront and will begin to effect her life in cataclysmic ways. Oops . . . did I say too much? lol wait and see . . .  
  
emmy - Thanks for your review! Enjoy. =-)  
  
The Mighty Quinn - I hope you haven't died of suspense since Saturday . . . And, just in case, I will put an Unbreakable charm on my windows. =-P  
  
Little House Girl - Which bit of your review should I believe? The "Really" bit, or the "j/k" bit? lol Hope you like this chappie.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
RECAP OF LAST CHAPTER: He pulled me out of the centre of the crowd. "Katie, we still need to talk . . ."  
I bit my lip. "'K. Where? We can't talk in here." I rolled my eyes towards the group of screaming, jumping people.  
Wood didn't say anything, but took my hand and led me towards the stairs to the boys' dorms.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
A/N: And now, without further ado, may I present . . .  
  
Relating Relations ~ Chapter Seven: Unfinished Business  
  
Recap of last chapter: He pulled me out of the centre of the crowd. "Katie, we still need to talk . . ."  
I bit my lip. "'K. Where? We can't talk in here." I rolled my eyes towards the group of screaming, jumping people.  
Wood didn't say anything, but took my hand and led me towards the stairs to the boys' dorms.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
Oliver lead me up the stairs to the boys' dorms. I'd never been up here before. Well, once, but that was when Fred and George kidnapped me in third year. I don't even remember why, first years' dorm, then the second years, and so on, up and up the spiral staircase until we reached the last door: SEVENTH YEARS. Oliver poked his head around the door.  
  
"Nobody around. We'll have it all to ourselves." He said, smirking. Uh oh . . . why does that sound creepy? I just smiled and followed him into the dorm. It was messy, as I had expected, but at least it was the easy to tell which bed belonged to Oliver. In the corner by the open window was a bed on whose curtains danced images of Quaffles, broomsticks, and various famous players' faces. I went over to it and, shoving the curtains aside, sat down on Oliver's bed.  
  
I looked at Oliver. He was still standing by the door, gazing at me. "Well?" I prompted. "What did you want to talk about?" I was still too happy about the match to bring up the previous morning's upset.  
  
Oliver walked over to the window, which overlooked (imagine that) the Quidditch pitch. "I still can't believe we won!" he said, still looking out at the window.  
  
"Oh come on, Oliver - that wasn't what you dragged me up here to tell me, is it?" I managed to keep my slight frustration out of my voice. I think.  
  
Oliver turned around and glanced at me quickly before leaning against the window sill and looking down at his feet. I shifted on the bed, waiting and thinking of the party I was missing downstairs. Oliver came and sat down beside me. He took a deep breath ---  
  
And blew it out again. Standing up again, he went to a chest-of- drawers on the other side of the window and fumbled around in the top drawer.  
  
He turned around. "Here." He handed me a small red box, loosely wrapped in white tissue paper.  
  
"What--?" I asked.  
  
"It's your birthday present . . . I thought I'd give it to you a little early. . ." he said gruffly.  
  
"Oliver, my birthday isn't for another two weeks - are you sure you want to give it to me now?"  
  
He shrugged. "Yep."  
  
I looked back at the box in my hands. I untied the gold ribbon, and slipped off the lid.  
  
"Oliver! These are gorgeous!" On a bed of red velvet lay two golden earrings, each with a tiny red Quaffle suspended from it. As I looked closer, I saw that a miniscule "K" was emblazoned on each in Gryffindor gold.  
  
"Glad you like them." He looked a little embarrassed, but very pleased. "The Quaffles will light up whenever you fly - and they'll applaud when you shoot a regulation-sized Quaffle through a hoop." He beamed proudly. "Of course, you'll have to find someone else to Keep for you if you want to test them," he added.  
  
"Oliver Wood! You know perfectly well I score on you all the time." I punched him lightly in the stomach, and felt his muscles tense under my touch. Whoa, girl, keep yourself under control.  
  
I gazed at the earrings again. "These must have cost a fortune, though - you really shouldn't have--"  
  
"They don't when you do the spell work yourself," he said, beaming at my look of awe.  
  
"You made them *yourself*?"  
  
"Sadly, no. I haven't yet added goldsmith to my list of talents." I rolled my eyes and play-punched him again. Oops, bad idea. Why does his stomach have to be so . . . so . . . *sigh*  
  
Oliver continued, seemingly oblivious to my inner turmoil. "I put the spells that make them glow and applaud, though." I must have looked impressed, because he blushed and looked away. "It wasn't hard, really. . ." he muttered.  
  
We sat in silence for a little while. I was lost in thought about him . . . so sweet, so hot, so damn sexy . . . I felt myself blush at this last thought, and stood up abruptly.  
  
"Well, I guess I'd better head off . . . Thank you SO much." I hugged him briefly. When he remained silent, I just walked away, stumbling over a pile of textbooks someone had left on the floor on my way to the door. I thought I heard Oliver chuckle, but when I reached the door and turned around, he was just staring at me.  
  
"'Night." I waved a little, then started back down the stairs. God, I must have looked so stupid stumbling like that . . . Why didn't he say good night? Why doesn't he talk to me?  
  
"KATIE!" I was passing the third years' dorm when a voice broke in on my depressing thoughts. I turned to see Oliver emerge around the corner curve of the staircase.  
  
"What?" I asked. This boy is definitely a little weird . . . Does he have a five minute reaction time for saying goodbye?  
  
"Wait . . . I . . . There - there's something else I wanted to say. Can you come back up for a sec?" He squinted at me, looking nervous.  
  
Right. I'm going to agree to go somewhere with an insane guy who is retarded in the field of social niceties, including saying goodnight. Alone. "Sure," I said.  
  
We reached his dorm again and once more I sat down on his bed. Talk about real-life deja vu. I waited for him to speak.  
  
"Oh, just spit it out, will you Oliver? It isn't that terrible, is it?" I was obviously going to have to help him him here.  
  
"I don't know." He said earnestly.  
  
"Well tell me and then I'll let you know if it's terrible or not." I said as though explaining something to a three-year-old.  
  
He looked away. "Fine."  
  
He sat down on the bed next to me. Right next to me. As in legs- touching-each-other next to me.  
  
I looked up into his face, surprised to find that his eyes were deep brown - almost black. He gulped.  
  
Then he leaned forward and, pushing back my hair, leaned in to whisper in my ear. "I like you."  
  
"What?" I said, startled. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that. "What sort of "like"?" I added cautiously. Please, please, please, let it be the right answer . . .  
  
"As in crush-like, love-like, -- you know - *like*-like." He blushed and looked away again.  
  
Yes! That is the correct answer!  
  
Oh.  
  
My.  
  
God.  
  
Oliver Wood likes me!  
  
In an attempt at resuming normal human functions, I laughed at his terminology. "'*Like*-like?' How eloquent."  
  
"Ya, well . . . " he trailed off.  
  
OLIVER likes me! Oliver LIKES me! Oliver likes ME!  
  
"Why do you like me?" I asked. I may as well prolong the moment . . . after all, he put me through hell yesterday. Too bad he's looking at me. I can't indulge in an evil grin.  
  
Oliver looked down at his feet.  
  
"I love your sense of humour; I love the way you laugh; I love how you always poke fun at me - it keeps me on my toes," - I chuckled - "I love the way you fly, the way you . . . ." Words failed him. He looked straight into my eyes. "I just love you, Katie. If I couldn't wake up in the morning and know that I'd see you soon, I don't know what I'd do."  
  
Awww! The boy is so sweet!  
  
"Why did you tell me this, Oliver?" Another minute of suspense won't kill him.  
  
"Oh . . . um . . . I dunno . . .," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I hoped maybe you might - uh - like me too." He grinned apologetically at me.  
  
"You mean, like, *like*-like?" I asked, fighting the losing battle of keeping a straight face.  
  
He smiled. "Yes, *like*-like."  
  
"Well, in that case, Mr. Wood, you might just be in business." I batted my eyelashes and smiled.  
  
"W-What? You mean you - you . . .?"  
  
"I don't know why you're so surprised. I mean, honestly - I've only liked you for . . . hmm, let's see . . . five years? Six years?" His eyebrows shot up. I sighed. "You never noticed? You can be a great clod, you know that, don't you."  
  
"Doesn't stop you from loving me, though, does it?" He smirked.  
  
"Yes, I love you. Don't make me change my mind." I snuggled closer to him on the bed, where we were still sitting side-by-side.  
  
"Well, I'd say we have some unfinished business to attend to, then . . ."  
  
Before my love-drunk brain could figure out what he meant, his lips were on mine. I closed my eyes, reveling in the shivers running down my spine. I felt his hand cup my face, his callused thumb tracing my jaw. Setting down the little red box I still held, I entwined my arms around his neck and swung one leg over his so that I was sitting on his lap. I felt him groan softly against my lips. Pushing his other hand into the small of my back, he urged me closer. I wriggled a little, drawing another groan. He pushed his tongue against my lips, demanding entrance. I yielded, melting as his tongue glided over mine. He wrapped his hand in my hair, cradling my head as he twisted, gently laying me down on his bed.  
  
Wait a second. His BED??  
  
Oliver must have felt me tense, because he pulled away and looked at me, his deep brown eyes full of concern.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, sounding extremely Scottish.  
  
I nodded mutely.  
  
"Sorry . . . guess I got a little carried away."  
  
How could I be mad at him when he looked so repentant and concerned? "You know your puppy eyes will get you out of anything, don't you?" I asked, and chuckled at the look of intense relief that crossed over his face. "It's OK, I'm fine." It should have been clear that I was fine, since I was grinning like an idiot. I wriggled all the way onto his bed, stretching out and folding my hands behind my head. He stretched out on his stomach beside me.  
  
"Don't get any ideas," I warned him. He smiled sheepishly.  
  
We lay in silence for a moment or two.  
  
"Why wouldn't you talk to me yesterday morning?" I asked him at last.  
  
"Oh . . . that." He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you know . . . I mean I almost kissed you the night before . . . and then we were interrupted - "  
  
"I know - I could have KILLED Fred."  
  
"But then you looked so annoyed - "  
  
"-try disappointed-"  
  
"What? . . . Oh. Well, anyway, I thought you were mad at me. And then the next day, I saw you come down the stairs, and you looked so . . . um . . . gorgeous" - we both blushed - "that I didn't think I'd be able to stop myself kissing you . . . and I couldn't stand to make you mad."  
  
Idiot boy. I cuffed him lightly on the head. "Well you did a pretty damn good job - I thought you didn't really like me . . . That's why I wouldn't talk to you in the hall . . . I'm sorry."  
  
He sighed, and snaked an arm under and around my hips. "I guess we're both hopeless."  
  
"Speak for yourself." I giggled as he trailed his fingers up and down my side, tickling me. "Oi, stop that!" I slapped his hand as he continued to tease me.  
  
"Why? Do I have to?" He whined, looking at me with laughter twinkling in those incredible eyes. He rolled gently on top of me, smirking. Huh. Two can play at that.  
  
I slowly pushed my hips upwards, flashing a smirk of my own. He looked surprised, and I took advantage of his momentary discomposure to push him off me.  
  
He raised himself on one elbow.  
  
"Oh no you don't," I teased, tackling him so that he fell back, flat on his back, with me stretched out on top of him.  
  
"Fine, fine, I surrender. I'll be good." Oliver chuckled, or rather rumbled, as I was lying on his chest.  
  
"That'll be the day." I paused, catching his eyes with mine. I scooted up him a little, so that our faces were level. God he has *such* gorgeous eyes.  
  
"No getting carried away," I warned, tapping him lightly on the nose. He nodded slightly, and I leant down to kiss him again. He was gentler this time, less demanding - though, since he was pinned under me, he didn't really have the upper hand. I don't think.  
  
When I rolled off him, several minutes later, both of us were flushed and a little breathless.  
  
"I guess I should go . . ." I said tentatively.  
  
"Aww . . . ya, I guess . . ." he reluctantly agreed.  
  
I clambered over Oliver and off the bed. "Thanks again for the earrings," I said, picking up the little box, which had at some point fallen on the floor. When Oliver just smiled, I cast around for something else to say.  
  
"Umm. . . Does this mean we're a couple now?" I ventured.  
  
"As long as you want to be," Oliver smiled and stood up, enfolding me in his arms. I think I like it when we're both lying down better - Oliver is at least half a foot taller than me.  
  
He released me from his hug. "'Night," I whispered.  
  
"'Night. And be careful . . . don't get caught - we couldn't win the final without you."  
  
"Everything with you is Quidditch isn't it?" I rolled my eyes.  
  
"Everything except you," he answered, giving me a last peck on the cheek.  
  
.~*~.  
  
I was almost at the common room when I heard voices.  
  
"It's not fair," one voice whined. "Just because we're first years . . . I don't see why he had to make us go to bed."  
  
I froze.  
  
"I know. Perfect Prefect Percy is such a pain," said another voice.  
  
Shit. I turned around and ran back up the stairs. If Percy was already sending people to bed, there was no way I was going to be able to get back to my dorm without being seen. Nothing for it, then. I trudged back up to Oliver's dorm, and knocked.  
  
"Come in . . . oh, it's you." Oliver was lying on his back in his pajama bottoms. Let me rephrase that. ONLY in his pj bottoms. In other words, SHIRTLESS. Fine, just ignore it. You'll be fine, girl, you will.  
  
"Umm . . . Looks like I'm staying the night," I said. Seeing the look on his face, I added, "No, not like that. Just that Percy's started sending people to bed - I won't be able to get out without being seen."  
  
"Ahh." He nodded. "Well then, here. . ." He foraged for a moment, then threw me a large T-shirt.  
  
"Uh - thanks. Don't look." He turned away and I quickly changed.  
  
"You sure you don't want me to sleep somewhere else, Katie?" Oliver asked when I was done. Aww. The boy is too sweet for words.  
  
"Don't worry, Oliver. I trust you, really I do." I reassured him with a kiss.  
  
.~*~.  
  
I don't know how long I had been sleeping when I began to dream.  
  
I dreamed I saw a dark-haired woman with high cheekbones and cold, blue-grey eyes. She was stirring a cauldron of something - something a deep, dark red. I felt myself recoil.  
  
Then I realized the woman was talking - or moving her lips, at least - I couldn't hear a sound. She added various ingredients to the bubbling mess - some which I recognized, and some that I did not.  
  
My dream self seemed to be drawing closer to the cauldron and the dark-haired witch. The dark-haired witch beckoned me closer. I went, though every muscle in me ached. I wanted to scream, to get away, but I couldn't speak . . .  
  
The witch opened her mouth. Then ---  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHHH! NOOO---"  
  
I shot straight up in bed, trembling. But the scream went on.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
A/N: Oooh! So sorry to end it there . . . hehe no I'm not I'm forever unrepentant *evil cackle* lol  
  
10 house points for whoever can tell me who screamed. (shouldn't be that hard to guess, should it?)  
  
I hope the little kissing bit in there was alright lol. I'm a little (well, OK, *really*) insecure about it . . . Since almost of the creative writing I've done has been for school, I haven't written anything like that before - I don't really think my teacher would appreciate it, ya know?  
  
OK, peeps, that's all for now - 25 reviews and I'll update . . . Is this asking too much? Possibly, but I'm a demanding sort o gal . . . Anyway, if you review, here's what I can promise you - - - (********HINT, HINT, WINK, WINK, NUDGE, NUDGE********) *sigh* OMG I am pathetic.  
  
Next Chapter: Oliver comforts Katie, Katie turns 18, Katie has another dream, and Oliver and Katie go for a fly together at an odd hour . . .  
  
25 REVIEWS!!!  
  
Pretty please?  
  
Toodleoo.  
  
.-MadMadamMim--. 


	10. Just A Dream

A/N:  
  
Disclaimer: The plot's mine, as are the referre relatus spell and the powers of Relating. Other than that, pretty much all of it belongs to the lovely and talented JKR. Please don't sue me!  
  
Rating Warning: This is rated PG13 since I think that most thirteen year olds will have no problem with it. However, tender souls be warned that sexuality and heavy flirtation are rampant! =-)  
  
NOTES TO MY PrECiOUs (insert Gollum here) REVIEWERS:  
  
Little House Girl - No, I'm not easy to please . . . much to the annoyance of anyone I beta for hehe. Thanks for your great review. =-)  
  
Bell - I'll take that as a compliment . . . I take all that I can get when it comes to improving my stats.  
  
meg - Yay! I loved your review. It's pretty easy to write from someone's POV when you imagine yourself as that person. I often find myself acting out some of my characters actions as I sit at my computer to see if they seem natural. I don't know if it helps or not, but it makes it work better for me. (even if I do look like a total idiot)  
  
litzy bitzy - Thanks so much for your long review. I'm sure most of us wish we could go to sleep next to a shirtless Sean Biggerstaff . . . well at least most of us girls . . . *sigh* All your praise made me blush . . . let's not go there. ;-)  
  
InsearchofmyJames - First of all, I love your name!!! I know . . . that's the problem . . . I want to make it have a happy ending . . . but don't worry, there will be a few bumps (some a lot bigger than others) in Oliver and Katie's relationship. I'm not saying any more. (for now)  
  
*** - Thanks for your review. I hope you got my email letting you know that I updated!  
  
Dragon Scales - 2.5 house points to you! One of your guesses as to who screamed was correct . . .  
  
tje-82871 - Wow! Thanks for reviewing chapter by chapter! And CONGRATULATIONS for being my 100th reviewer! 20 house points to you just for that.  
  
Jen - Read on and see what I did with Percy . . . Oh, and the bed hangings were shut, so he wouldn't have seen them (*author drags curtains across plot hole*) lol No it's true . . . I'm just not sure if I remembered to put that in the last chappie . . . ah well. I hope this update was soon enough for you. I'm planning either 14 or 15 chapters in total, plus an Epilogue. =-)  
  
I can'tthinkofanything - Whew hope this chappie is long enough . . . It's at least **********three thousand words**************, I think . . . I dunno that's the last word count I remember. What's the ideal length?  
  
Lunatic - Let me know what your email addy is and I will add you to my update alert list. Thanks for your "enthusiatic" review. =-P  
  
lilducky18 - Wow . . . you made me blush too . . . I think I do that too easily. Thanks for your review.  
  
Kitsune - Congratulations - a full 10 house points to you! Thanks for your AWESOME review. I loved every word . . . can't wait for you to write your own fic. =-)  
  
Lady Mione - Yay! Glad I've got you to appreciate Katie. Hope you enjoyed the bit about Alicia too. =-)  
  
kat6528 - Well you didn't have to wait for very long, so be happy!  
  
BoPeep - I hope you have been resussitated or are able to read this from beyond the grave. As yet the law has not found me - I have a friend who leant me a hyppogriff. I take comfort in the fact that *you* were saying you would die, instead of threatening to kill *me* . . . always appreciated. =-)  
  
zingy - Yay! Thanks for your heartwarming review. =-) (eww . . . doesn't that sound mushy?)  
  
Fairuz - Hmm . . . R rated scenes, huh? I might be able to manage that eventually . . . but no promises for at least the next couple chappies . . . I can promise lots of fluff, however. *grins endearingly*  
  
sammy - There! I updated! Be happy!  
  
J - Tsk, tsk . . . more people dying of suspense. What's the world coming to? Hope this caught you before you passed across the River Styx (sorry, I'm in love with Greek Mythology).  
  
itefaq - lol, no I can't blame you for being biased. Hell, so am I. Hope you appreciated my review. =-)  
  
Lollipoppgirl - Whoa there, girl - don't get yourself too worked up! *throws cold water on you and watches it sizzle* lol *wink* I will try to include some higher-rating Oliver . . . but there will be some less fluffy things happening that might take precedence.  
  
Elbereth - UPDATE AGAIN, damnit! Um, other than that, thanks a lot for all your reviews. =-) No, *I* know that owls don't have paws . . . just I saw it in a fic somewhere. Luvya.  
  
little_rose - Ah yes, the wonderful world of fanfiction! Happy reading!  
  
AllyCat - *hands you kleenex* Jeez - can't you get your own? Are you staying back there forever??? Lol Glad u still likin' Oliver. Correction: loving. And yes, you get your full 10 house points.  
  
Allie-Marina - I sympathize you when it comes to relationship problems. Mine are mostly of the non-existent sort. Relationships, that is, not problems. Update soon! Glad you're enjoying my fic!  
  
Katie-Mae - *looks sheepish* I think you caught me with my mind in the gutter. Hehe see if you can spot the pickle in this chapter (shouldn't be too hard lmao)  
  
Cho-Look-Alike - WOW! Thanks for all your reviews! =-) I hope to drop you a review soon . . . but I thought I should concentrate on getting this chappie posted first. Enjoy!  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
RECAP OF LAST CHAPTER: The dark-haired witch beckoned me closer. I went, though every muscle in me ached. I wanted to scream, to get away, but I couldn't speak . . . The witch opened her mouth. Then --- "AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHHH! NOOO---" I shot straight up in bed, trembling. But the scream went on.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
A/N:  
  
Relating Relations ~ Chapter Eight: Just A Dream  
  
My heart raced. Surely this was just a continuation of the dream . . . ? But no, I felt completely awake.  
  
Beside me, I felt Oliver prop himself up on one elbow.  
  
"Whassa matter?" he asked groggily, not bothering to keep his voice down.  
  
"Did you hear that?" I whispered.  
  
Before he could reply, however, I heard movement across the room.  
  
"I don't know what it was, Oliver . . . I'm just going to find out, alright?" Percy sounded very irritable.  
  
"I'll be right down." Oliver seemed to have woken up and realized something important was happening. "Stay here." He whispered in my ear, "I'll be back in a couple minutes."  
  
"I'm not staying here - I'm coming too." I whispered back furiously. I was not going to be left out, no matter how scared I felt.  
  
We heard Percy pull the door closed behind himself and start shuffling down the corridor in his carpet slippers.  
  
"You have to stay here, Katie. Percy would flip if he saw you coming out of here . . . and I'm sure McGonagall will have heard whatever it was and be storming in at any moment. I'll be right back. Promise."  
  
Damn. He's right. I slumped down in bed as he clambered over me and through the bed hangings  
  
"Love you." I whispered as he felt his way across the dark room.  
  
He opened the door and turned to look at me. Silhouetted against the light from the outside landing, he whispered back, "I love you too."  
  
.~*~.  
  
I don't know how long Oliver was gone, but I know it seemed much longer than two minutes.  
  
Who was the strange woman in my dream? She was evil, I knew, but . . . who? And what potion was she making with the bubbling blood? What was its purpose? Should I talk to McGonagall? Dumbledore?  
  
I took a deep breath and hid my face in my hands. It was only a dream. I'd been over imaginative. I had just had two exciting things happen to me and I was very, very happy when I went to bed.  
  
But shouldn't that have made me have good dreams? I shifted uneasily.  
  
What if there was something important in the dream? What if it actually meant something real? Or what if I were going mad? I attempted to shut out this thought as I heard footsteps outside. Peeking through a small gap in the hangings, I saw Oliver enter the room.  
  
I was about to speak when I heard a sleepy grunt from one of the other beds in the room. Ooops . . . I guess I forgot about Oliver's other roommates. Good thing Oliver's bed hangings had been pulled to.  
  
Oliver was apparently capable of interpreting the grunt, because he said, "Sirius Black again. McGonagall wants as many seventh years as possible down there to help keep an eye on the younger ones."  
  
An inarticulate curse issued from the bed. Oliver continued, "He was seen standing over Ron Weasley's bed with a knife, but Ron screamed and he scarpered - it's assumed he was trying to kill Harry."  
  
The boy in the bed uttered another grunt and heaved himself out of bed. He crossed the room to the two beds still occupied and quickly explained the situation. Soon all three had left to help impose order on what was bound to be a chaotic common room.  
  
When their footsteps had faded down the stairs, I whispered into the silence, "Is it true - about Sirius Black?"  
  
I was relieved when Oliver replied that it was. If it was true, it must have been Ron's scream I had heard . . . so I wasn't going insane after all. I'd just been having a dream and noise from the dorm somewhere below me had filtered into it. It's happened before . . . you know, when you think your alarm clock is a fire alarm or so on and wake up and tumble out of bed, reaching for your broom, before remembering that you don't need to fly to safety.  
  
It was just a dream. Just a silly old dream.  
  
I climbed out of bed, realizing I was still in my jeans and the tank top I had changed into after the match. Oliver hugged me close.  
  
"It's OK, Kitten," he whispered into my hair.  
  
Oh. Right. I guess I'm supposed to be worrying about Black. But compared to my possible lack of sanity, he just doesn't scare me . . .  
  
Wait a second . . . hang on . . .  
  
"Kitten?" I looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow. Even in the darkness I saw him flush. "Pet names, huh, Ollie?"  
  
I squealed as he pinched my side, tickling me.  
  
"Oi - you know I hate that name." He sighed. "Kitten is a little Over- The-Top, isn't it? What about "Kat"?"  
  
Awwwwww. The boy is so cute. If sometimes a little OTT.  
  
"Kat will be fine." I reached up and pulled his head down to mine.  
  
.~*~.  
  
By merit of Oliver's apparent need to take his blanket downstairs with him, I was successfully smuggled back to the common room. It's not an experience I would care to repeat - the stuffiness and lack of oxygen mixed with the smell of Oliver does not make it easy to remain as still as a blanket ought.  
  
Once I had extricated myself in an unoccupied corner, I looked around for Lish and Ange. They were huddled in their dressing gowns near one of the fireplaces. As I approached them, I heard Angelina say, "D'you think we should tell someone? I mean, she's been gone all night --- what if Black . . . ?"  
  
Oops . . . I guess I should notify my friends when I . . . yes, well . . .  
  
"It's OK, I'm fine," I said, making them both jump.  
  
"Oh my God, Katie - we were getting worried! What happened? Where were you? Are you OK?" asked Lish in one burst.  
  
I smiled sheepishly. "Careful - you're sounding like my Dad."  
  
"C'mon Katie, be serious. Where the hell were you?" Ange wasn't going to be thrown off. Sigh. I guess I'll have to fess up.  
  
Looking around to make sure nobody would overhear, I said, "I was in Oliver's dorm." When Lish shrieked I added, "Shush . . . not like we *did* anything . . . jeez . . . Oh, stop looking so pleased with yourselves." My request didn't have any effect on either of them, however: apparently forgetting that there was a mass murderer on the loose, they were grinning from ear to ear.  
  
I sighed and gave in, telling them all about it.  
  
Only when Professor McGonagall came back and told us that Sirius Black had escaped again did we remember that we were supposed to have been worrying ourselves sick.  
  
.~*~.  
  
The next two weeks flew by in a whirl of schoolwork, Quidditch practice, and Oliver. While there were no more late-night visits to his dorm, we snatched the occasional kiss between classes or after practice. It is amazing to me how fast we fell into this comfortable sort of relationship. Perhaps because we'd always been good friends, it was easy for us to take the extra step.  
  
Gradually, it became common knowledge throughout the school that we were a couple, and, though there were some initial grumblings from Oliver's "fangirls", we soon became accepted.  
  
With everything going so well in my life, I wasn't surprised when my eighteenth birthday dawned bright and clear. At breakfast I received cards from various friends and relations. I was just ripping open a potpourri- scented envelope doomed to be from my Great-Aunt Anemone when a pair of barn owls dropped a large package on my head. After extracting Great-Aunt Anemone's greeting from my cornflakes and setting it to one side, I picked up the package and undid the string that held it together. Out fell a set of dark blue robes bearing a sky blue badge emblazoned with a double gold "T".  
  
"Yes!" I practically screamed. "Then, seeing the looks I was getting, I lowered my voice and spoke only to my friends.  
  
"Look! Dad's sent my Chang robes! He's great, you know . . . he just hasn't been able to put together quite the right team to--"  
  
"Chang?" asked Angelina, interrupting my ecstatic rambling, "You mean as in Cho Chang?"  
  
"As in her father - he's played for the Tornadoes for the past eight years. They almost made it to the quarterfinals last year, but--"  
  
"But Puddlemere United beat them." Oliver hugged me from behind. What is it with my friends interrupting me this morning?  
  
"No need to look so pleased with yourself," I chided, looking up at him. "It's not like you're on the team or anything." I stuck my tongue out at him.  
  
He gave me a strange look, like he wanted to tell me something, but at that moment Alicia insisted that I try on my new robes. The Weasley twins were not incredibly helpful in this endeavor, but I did eventually succeed in getting the Tornadoes emblem on the front and "CHANG" on the back.  
  
My day continued happily. I was sitting at my favourite table in the common room after classes were finished for the day when Lish and Ange seized me and dragged me upstairs.  
  
Ange closed the dorm door behind us.  
  
"What the--?" I began.  
  
"We're going to celebrate in Fred 'n George's dorm - thought you might want some time to change first."  
  
"Celebrate what?" Did I miss something here?  
  
"Your eighteenth, dufus." Oh. Right. Duh.  
  
"Why Fred and George's dorm?" I asked.  
  
"'Cuz our room's a mess and 'cuz their dormmates generally know to stay away - they're so often "inventing" in there." Lish explained. "Why?" she added. "Would you prefer to celebrate in *someone else's* dorm?"  
  
They still haven't given up on teasing Oliver and me about that. *sigh* But on to more pressing matters . . .  
  
"And when does this party start?"  
  
Ange checked her watch. "About twenty minutes."  
  
"What?!?!!" I freaked. "You give me twenty minutes morning for my own eighteenth birthday party? What the hell am I going to wear?"  
  
At Alicia's quirked eyebrow I realized that I was sounding like the girl-girl I usually strive not to be. I pulled a sheepish face.  
  
"Seriously, though - what *am* I going to wear?"  
  
.~*~.  
  
Despite Lish and Ange's chivvying, it was more than half an hour later when we emerged from out dorm, which was now in ruins. Practically every piece of clothing I owned was strewn across my bed, desk, or floor, and my drawers were pulled out and upended.  
  
I had finally decided on a simple pair of dark blue jeans, a white halter top, and a black chenille sweater. My hair I left loose and I hadn't bothered with makeup.  
  
Checking around the common room for McGonagall, Percy, and other members of authority, the three of us made our way up the boys' stairs. We met only little Colin Creevey (who squeaked and ran back into his dorm) before reaching the fifth year boys' dorm.  
  
Fred, George, Lee, and Oliver were already there. Lee and the twins were engaged in an enthusiastic game of Exploding Snap, while Oliver sat back and nursed a Butterbeer, watching with an amused expression. He was looking particularly gorgeous in beige trousers and a black turtleneck, lounging on one of the beds with panther-like grace.  
  
Lee got up from the game just in time to avoid having his nose hairs singed and passed out Butterbeer. Ange and Lish sat down to join in the game, but I wandered over to Oliver and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. I don't want to give my fellow Chasers too much ammunition for teasing me. Uncorking my Butterbeer, I lay down beside him.  
  
We lay in companionable silence for a while, watching Alicia get progressively sillier as she worked her way through three Butterbeers in quick succession.  
  
At length, Oliver turned to me, whispering "Happy Birthday" in my ear. And, judging by his smirk, I think he knows what that whisper does to me. Damnit - he's too hard to resist.  
  
I glanced towards the others. They were laughing merrily, completely engrossed in their game. Setting my Butterbeer down on the floor, I turned and, tracing Oliver's jaw with one finger, pressed my mouth to his.  
  
It was several minutes later when a prudish cough startled us apart.  
  
"So sorry, Prof-" I began, and then remembered we were in Fred and George's dorm.  
  
"George!" I yelled. George is famous for his impersonations. I turned back to Oliver. "I guess we're just destined to be interrupted by Weasleys." He just grinned ruefully.  
  
"Well," said Angelina. "now that Katie's wiped Oliver off her face" -I glared at her good-naturedly- "we can do presents."  
  
Receiving presents from Fred and George should always be undertaken with caution. However, Lish and Ange's restraining influence was evident: their brightly-wrapped packages contained nothing more harmful than an extra-large bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, three dungbombs (clearly labelled in Alicia's hand), and a pickle. I didn't ask.  
  
I unwrapped Lee's present next - three bars of Honeyduke's best chocolate. I thanked him profusely and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, grinning in response to Oliver's scowl.  
  
"Oh, alright, you big baby," I told him, and gave him a brief but intense kiss. When I broke the kiss, he shook his head, smiling, and whistled. "Whoa."  
  
I shoved him playfully in the chest.  
  
Alicia and Angelina had teemed up to get me an elegant black one- strapper and matching capris. When Ange tapped the shirt, silver words glittered across the chest: "Quidditch . . . is my life". I gave Oliver a brief sideways smirk. Someday I'll get him into that shirt . . . hehe.  
  
When I had thanked Lish and Ange, Lee asked, " What about Oliver's gift?" Then, with mock horror, "Don't tell me he forgot his girlfriend's birthday?"  
  
Naturally I couldn't let Oliver look bad, so I brushed back my hair and showed off my earrings. They oohed and ahhed, and then Ange glanced at her watch.  
  
"Bloody hell! It's almost two!" She turned to the twins, "Where on earth are your yearmates?"  
  
Fred and George grinned at each other. "We told them we would be experimenting with Blast-Ended Skrewts and Stinksap," George explained. "Curiously enough, they didn't seem to want to know any more. I expect they've made other sleeping arrnagements."  
  
Angelina did attempt to discipline them ("Really! You two are *awful* . . ."), but they just grinned endearingly up at her. Besides, it is rather hard to take her seriously when she's doubled over in hysterics. Soon we were all giggling more than could be justified - especially Alicia, who was rather the worse for wear after downing all that Butterbeer.  
  
.~*~.  
  
Ange and I helped Lish back to our dorm.  
  
"She's going to regret this in the morning," Ange chuckled, and I agreed.  
  
All the partying and, perhaps, kissing, must have worn me out, because I was dead to the world mere seconds after tumbling into bed.  
  
.~*~.  
  
I was walking down a path, lined on either side with towering trees. It was a dark night - no moon- or star-light filtered through the branches. I was afraid.  
  
Suddenly I stumbled out into a clearing. There was the dark-haired witch, bent over her bubbling cauldron. Her gaunt face was lit only by the glowing coals, her cheekbones throwing her glittery eyes into deep shadow.  
  
She raised those cold, hard eyes to mine, and I stood still, transfixed. She began to speak.  
  
"The power is in your blood. The power is in your blood . . . your blood . . . in your blood . . . your blood . . . your blood . . . blood . . . ."  
  
I opened my mouth in a silent scream and woke with a start, the woman's words still echoing around me.  
  
I sat up in bed, staring unthinkingly out the window at the small square of light that was the early morning sky, while my heart rate gradually slowed. At length, I slumped back against my pillows, trying to go back to sleep. It was just a dream, just a silly dream.  
  
I jumped when an owl hooted outside. I sat up again, biting back a cry of frustration. Giving up on rest, I heaved out of bed and pulled on the nearest trackies. I grabbed my broom, opened the window, and took flight.  
  
With the wind cooling my face, I soon began to feel calmer. Brains do strange things when they sleep. It was just a dream.  
  
I swooped down to the Quidditch pitch and picked up an abandoned Quaffle (left over from Slytherin practice - they're always very shoddy about care of equipment) and began to shoot.  
  
I had worked up a sweat when I realized I had an audience. Looking up, I saw Oliver hovering on his broom just outside his window.  
  
"Mind if I stop you from scoring?" he called.  
  
"As if!" I shouted back, laughing.  
  
He flew to his position by the goalposts and proceeded to make my life difficult.  
  
When we descended a little while later, he turned to me and asked, "So why are you up so early? I seem to remember having to drag you out of bed on several occasions . . . Not that I don't appreciate your dedication," he added.  
  
I shrugged. "I had a dream and couldn't get back to sleep," I said, hoping I sounded nonchalant. I don't want to think about the dream. Not sure that he was satisfied with my excuse, I asked him, "What about you? What are you doing up at this God-forsaken hour?"  
  
Suddenly, Oliver looked embarrassed. "You know those earrings I gave you? Well, I have a - a matching - uh - charm, same spells and everything," he stuttered. "It woke me up with its applause - you must have been doing a lot of scoring." He smiled.  
  
Hang on . . . it woke him up?  
  
"Oliver? Where *exactly* do you keep this 'charm'?"  
  
He muttered something.  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
"Under my pillow," he said again. He squinted at me anxiously at me. "You don't mind, do you?"  
  
I tried to keep a straight face, but failed dismally. The boy was so genuinely worried. "Not at all," I assured him, "I think that it's very -" I paused, licking my lips, "-sweet."  
  
He looked down at me for a moment and then fulfilled my silent request.  
  
When we came up for air there was a rosiness in our cheeks that had nothing to do with the morning air.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
A/N: There you go - awwwww!!! That chapter took a long time to write. I suffered from writer's block and URS (Unending Revision Syndrome - a. k. a. Perfectionism). I apologize for the delay. To make up for it, I was kind and didn't leave you with a cliffhanger (even though I thought of a really good one . . . *evil cackles*). Can anyone guess who the dark-haired witch is? I don't think it should be hard, but then it's hard to be objective when you're the author. I won't tell you if you're right or wrong (wouldn't do to spoil the suspense, you know), but some of you may wish to record your thoughts for the sake of posterity.  
In other words, please REVIEW! I am happy to announce that I have received almost 50 reviews since my last update. =-) As some of you have noticed, I keep on getting more and more demanding - when it comes to reviews, at least. I'll ask for . . . hmmm . . . THIRTY-FIVE REVIEWS before I update again. (That should give me enough time to write the next chappie . . . and that way I can blame you guys if I don't update soon *more evil author cackles*)  
  
Next Chapter:  
Entitled, "A Spanner In The Works". The dark-haired witch's identity is revealed, a confrontation with Malfoy causes Katie to reconsider her relationship with Oliver, and another dream plunges Katie into depression.  
  
On a brighter note, I'm waiting for my 35 REVIEWS!!!  
  
If you want to know, don't be slow! Review! (OK, now you know why I'm no good at writing poetry . . . how embarrassing lol)  
  
Toodleoo. .-MadMadamMim-.  
  
P. S. Did you review? I didn't think so. Tsk, tsk. Bad! What? Oh. You did? You sure? Promise? Oh, alright - dismissed. 


	11. A Spanner In The Works

A/N: So here we go again . . . another chappie up! I won't say any more than that, 'cuz I'll get too depressed. Shoutouts at end.  
  
Disclaimer: It's not mine, alright? I would think that by this time you would all understand that. =-P  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
Relating Relations ~ Chapter Nine: A Spanner In the Works  
  
Over the next few weeks, I forgot all about my dream. Well, at least I pushed it to the back of my mind to where it troubled me little.  
  
I was kept very busy. Oliver had us practicing every other night for four hours straight. The teachers weren't giving us any breaks, either. With N.E.W.T.s coming up the first week of June, the seventh years were existing in various states of sleep-deprived hysteria. Compared to many of our year-mates, Ange, Lish and I were doing quite well - probably because we were forced to go outside and work out some of the tension.  
  
The last day of classes before Easter holidays found me cheerful. I love Easter. While the holidays would not be exactly relaxing, they would at least represent some sort of break. And of course there would be no classes, so there would be a chance to catch up on sleep.  
  
I stopped to talk to Professor Flitwick after class about the effect of British vs. American pronunciation on some of the more advanced charms we were learning (he said it might be on the exam . . .), and consequently was running late for Potions.  
  
I made it down the last flight of stairs to the dungeon just in time to see Draco Malfoy pull his wand and point it at Harry's back.  
  
In an instant my wand was in my hand.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" I cried, and Malfoy's wand soared in a graceful arc to plonk satisfyingly into my hand. He should know not to mess with Harry when there's a class of seventh year Gryffindors arriving.  
  
I smiled at Harry, who had whirled around at my scream, and then turned back to Malfoy. "You're a disgusting, cowardly, little . . . ." Words failed me. "Just go." I told him.  
  
"Thanks, Katie."  
  
"No problem, Harry - you know Wood would kill us all if anything happened to you before the match," I joked. (Well, half-joked, anyway . . .)  
  
Then I realized Malfoy was still standing there. "Still here?" I asked.  
  
"I take no pleasure in conversing with Muggles and half-bloods," he spat. "See you on the pitch, Potter." He tipped an invisible hat to me, "Goodday, Miss Shanaghan."  
  
My breath caught. Did he say Miss ---  
  
"Shanaghan?" whispered Ron. "I thought her name was "Bell" . . ."  
  
Harry didn't seem to notice that I was white as a sheet. "Don't ask me," he shrugged. "Malfoy's always been a bit off his rocker, in my opinion. See ya later, Katie."  
  
The two boys turned away and I was about to, too, when I noticed Hermione Granger staring at me oddly. When I looked at her, hoever, she quickly set off down the hall.  
  
I stared numbly after her. Did she know? Could she guess?  
  
I drifted dazedly into Snape's dungeon, now full of my classmates, and settled into the closest seat, ignoring Snape's vindictive snarl and deduction of points for tardiness.  
  
I fumbled through the lesson, nearly scorching myself when I added porcupine quills before cremated knarl powder. When the lesson ended, I was the first to leave, making my way quickly up to my dorm before any of my friends could waylay me. I needed time to think.  
  
Lying on my bed, I let my mind drift aimlessly.  
  
Hermione . . . did she know? That look - what did it mean? She could find out . . . she wasn't stupid. She could figure it out . . . anybody could.  
  
How did Malfoy know?  
  
Of course. His father was a Death Eater. Likely his grandfather was or had been a supporter of Grindelwald.  
  
I shuddered at the name.  
  
I should never have come to Hogwarts. I thought of all my friends, of Oliver. How would they react when they found out? I couldn't bear to lose them all.  
  
I drifted into an uneasy sleep. I saw Alicia's face, fearful. Angelina's face, disdainful. The twins, turning their backs. My entire class pointing, jeering. And Oliver at the back, saying nothing, but gazing back at me with eyes full of hurt. Then Oliver walking away, his arm around a Ravenclaw girl, looking back at me over his shoulder.  
  
I woke, tears running down my face. I sobbed into my pillow, wretched in despair. I stripped off my school uniform, hoping I would find comfort in my pajamas, and pulled my covers over my head.  
  
When I slept, it was fitfully. I was plagued by faces, voices - all condemning, rejecting, abhorring.  
  
At last I dreamt again of the dark-haired witch. I was in the clearing again, as the sun bled slowly below the horizon. I walked to the black cauldron as the witch lit the fire beneath. She turned to me and I was struck with horror-filled realization as her blue-grey eyes bored into my own identical eyes.  
  
This was my grandmother, Moira Shanaghan. Dark witch, supporter of Grindelwald, and creator of the Relating power.  
  
She smiled a twisted sneer and spoke.  
  
"Yes, Catherine, I am your grandmother. I wondered how long it would be before I had the pleasure of speaking with my only living descendant. You are the bearer of my blood - the carrier of my power. Surely you did not think I would abandon you?" She cackled. "The power is in your blood, you see. I told you before, but you were too stupid to understand."  
  
I might be stupid, but she was downright insane. Her eyes glinted with the fierce indifference of a madwoman.  
  
"Now pay attention, girl! This is important," she barked. "I will show you how to make the Semeninsis ab Animositas Potion. Here, give me your arm."  
  
I tried to hold back, but my arm seemed to have a life of its own as it reached out towards her. She held a glinting dagger up, then quickly slashed down the inside of my forearm, opening the main vein. Pain shot through me and the blood pounded in my ears. Then my grandmother touched my temples and muttered something and the pain vanished.  
  
She led me to the cauldron. Over it was suspended a measure. She made me stand there, dripping my blood through the measure into the smoking cauldron. When at last she let me stop, I was faint and dizzy. She withdrew a hot poker from the fire and I watched as she branded my wound closed. I felt no pain, but merely a frightened fascination as I watched my skin smolder.  
  
As I looked on, my grandmother added various ingredients and stirred varying numbers of times, all the while instructing me to pay close attention. In truth, however, all I could think about was my blood . . . my blood, a base for a potion . . . my blood with the power to . . . what?  
  
"Grandmother?" I dared to speak for the first time. "What does this potion . . . DO?"  
  
She cackled again. "Why, my dear, it spreads animosity among people - semeninsis ab animositas - latin for seed of animosity. A couple of drops of this, and best friends can become mortal enemies. Brilliant, is it not? My own invention, you know . . ." She went back to her cauldron. I felt sick. I wanted to get away, wanted to expunge the memory of my dripping blood forever . . .  
  
"Katie! Katie! Wake up!"  
  
Lish's eyes, large with worry, loomed into sight. I turned over pressing my face into my pillows. I was panting, and my sheets were wet with my sweat.  
  
"What d'you want?"  
  
"You weren't at dinner . . . and then we came to bed and then . . . and then you were tossing and turning . . . muttering about--" she took a deep breath "-blood . . . and - and other things. . ."  
  
I jerked, and glanced down at my right forearm. It was unsullied. To Lish I said only, "It's nothing. I'm just tired, stressed out. Just a dream." I attempted a smile, then pulled my bed curtains closed, shutting out my friend's concern.  
  
I heard Alicia sigh and then cross the room to Ange's bed. They conferred in low murmurs. I caught only a few of Angelina's words: "Give her some time . . ."  
  
Did they know already? Were they afraid of me? They have every reason to be. Imagine what Voldemort could do if he got a hold of me. Just a few drops of the potion . . . he could wreak havoc, unravelling all that's been done to hold him off over the past decade.  
  
The Death Eaters could come for me. Malfoy knows. They all must know. Voldemort must know.  
  
I can't stay here. I bring too much danger on my friends. But where can I go? To run away from school would be delivering myself into Voldemort's hands.  
  
But I CAN'T stay here. I just CAN'T. What if something happened to Alicia, to Angelina, to OLIVER? It would be all my fault. Even if someone just found out - it would bring such shame on them all. I'll have to cut myself off from them all. That's all there is for it.  
  
But still . . . they could find me here.  
  
I listened for a moment and was relieved to hear only the deep breathing of my dormmates. I rose silently, needing to get out of bed, away from everything so familiar and precious. Away from my dream.  
  
A piece of parchment fluttered to the ground, shaken from my bed by my movement. I picked it up and held it up to the window, where the moon was casting beams of light. The curled piece of parchment inscribed with red ink:  
  
Semeninsis ab Animositas Potion  
  
Into an iron cauldron, pour one quart blood taken from a human Relator. Stir five times clockwise with a willow branch over low heat. Bring to a boil, then let simmer for two and a half minutes. Add three ounces shredded Jobberknoll feathers, stirring constantly. Raise heat to a medium level, and return to the boil for seven minutes. Meanwhile, combine asphodel in an infusion of wormwood with frozen Ashwinder eggs. Enclose in a block of ice. Return to your cauldron and add three drops Erumpent fluid and two julienned rats' tails. Then add two cups armadillo bile. Stir seventeen times anti-clockwise with a pewter ladle. Stoke the fire as high as possible, and let sit for four minutes. Then immediately quench flames and plunge block of ice into the center of the cauldron. Do not stir. When the ice is entirely melted, the concoction is ready.  
  
I felt sick again, and couldn't stop myself rubbing my forearm. If this potion ever came into being . . . I couldn't bear to think about it. I stuffed the piece of parchment underneath my mattress, relieved that its horrible words were out of sight  
  
Taking only my wand, I tiptoed out of the dorm, down the stairs, and out through the portrait hole. I headed straight to the Owlery. Standing by the paneless window, I felt the cool night air rush over me, too cold for late Spring.  
  
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I leant against the windowsill, the stone chilling my bare arms.  
  
I would have to give it all up. I was a danger to my friends - just by living. I climbed onto the windowsill, dangling my legs into the empty space. I looked down.  
  
If I was a danger while I lived . . . Just let go. That's all I would have to do. Just one long drop. I was sure I would die as soon as I hit the ground - and as I died so would the Relating power. One simple action to rid the world of so much evil possibility.  
  
But . . . my blood would survive.  
  
If I jumped now, how was I to know who would find my body?  
  
I silently swung my legs back over the sill and slid back to the floor. First light was beginning to filter through the windows, and many of the owls were returning to their roosts.  
  
I wandered out of the Owlery. I don't know where I went. I wandered aimlessly through the cold corridors, my bare feet numb from the stone.  
  
All I knew was that I was trapped. I couldn't live, and I couldn't die.  
  
Unless . . .  
  
.~*~.  
  
I made my way back to the common room, and stole furtively up to my dorm. I thought everyone was asleep - it was the first day of Easter holidays, after all - but then I heard Alicia's voice from the bathroom, inquiring who was moving about at such an early hour.  
  
"Katie?"  
  
I froze.  
  
"Ange?"  
  
I remained silent. I heard her turn the shower on. Must have been her turn to get up early - all three of us Chasers have to share one shower.  
  
I gathered up a few school texts and notes - I needed a plausible excuse to be in the library, after all.  
  
I thought I had made it safely through the common room (the few people there all seemed to be either too tired to notice or already immersed in their studies) when I heard Oliver call to me across the room. Putting on a falsely bright smile, I turned and joined him by the fire.  
  
"Guess what?" He was really excited about something.  
  
"What?" I did my best to sound interested.  
  
"Well, you know how I applied to Puddlemere United for a training position?"  
  
I nodded absently.  
  
"Well, I just got an owl - Kat, they want me as a RESERVE!"  
  
Wow! I was impressed despite my state of mental turmoil. "That's great - I'm so happy for you!" I said with a genuine smile, giving him a quick hug.  
  
"And you know their Keeper . . . well, he's thirty-three, and he's had some injury problems - back last year, and recurring knee injuries . . ."  
  
As Oliver drifted away into Quidditch-land I stared into the fire, sinking back into my depression.  
  
" . . . so, I reckon I could be playing full-time professional in, say, two years? Maybe only one? It's so exciting!"  
  
No. God no.  
  
"That's great, Oliver. I'm really happy!" I lied. "I gotta go, though - gotta talk to McGonagall." I waved absently at my Transfiguration text.  
  
I scare myself how good a liar I am.  
  
I stumbled out of the portrait hole. Now I really had to get away from Oliver. If Puddlemere United saw him associated with a dark witch --- well, let's just say it wouldn't do him any favours. They're very conscious of how bad press could turn their fans against them.  
  
I was wandering down the Transfiguration corridor when I remembered that my original intention had nothing to do with McGonagall. Doubling back, I entered Madam Pince's domain and went straight to the section on elements.  
  
Earth . . . Air . . . Water . . . Fire. There we go. I pulled out a fat volume entitled "One Thousand Ways To Burn A Witch", and sat down at one of the study tables.  
  
.~*~.  
  
A coupe of hours I emerged, the necessary spell copied out at the back of my Transfiguration text.  
  
When I entered my dorm I found it mercifully empty. Carefully setting my text book down, I drew out a fresh piece of parchment and a new quill.  
  
I would have to break it off with Oliver - make it so that he would be glad when I was gone. Make him . . . hate me. I couldn't bear to think of him mourning my loss. I brushed a tear away.  
  
I would write to Oliver, and at the next full moon I would write to Alicia and Angelina. And then I would burn for my Grandmother's sins.  
  
"Imperius," I muttered to the parchment as I sat down at my desk. I sucked the end of my quill. Then, sobbing, I sat down to write.  
  
"Dear Oliver . . . "  
  
.- ~*~ - .  
  
*author bursts into sobs*  
  
A/N: Oh my God. That was SO depressing to write. I hope it conveyed the mood correctly and didn't just sound dull and flat and boring. If it did, please let me know. If it didn't, please let me know. You know what I'm saying . . . REVIEW, PEOPLE! I'm not going to set a number of reviews this time around . . . as long as I get at least fifty or so I'll be happy. LMAO.  
  
NOTES TO MY WiTH-anY-LucK-nOT-ScaRreD-FoR-LifE REVIEWERS:  
  
Little House Girl - Sure, 200 reviews per chapter would be nice . . . =-) And of course I'm continuing it! How could I stop? I'm a dic, I'm addicted to . . . this story. Argh, gotta get that song out of my head.  
  
kat6528 - Yay! Thanks for updating your story. Hey - Oliver is like the perfect guy, right? Don't worry, none of us have perfect boyfriends. It's clinically impossible. ;-)  
  
SkysTheLimit - I know! Geez - how come no guy has ever given me earrings as cool as that? Honestly . . .  
  
Cho-Look-Alike - There! There! I updated! Be happy! Oh, and I reviewed. =-) I'll catch up with all your chappies asap . . . there are so many, it's almost overwhelming!  
  
TheOneAndOnlyElbereth - Yay! Thank you SO much for your review. It means a lot to me. =-) Were you over-reacting? I dunno . . . maybe not. *sob*  
  
zingy - Thanks so much for your review! And update your story again soon!  
  
itefaq - Well, I hope you enjoyed this now that you're back from your vacation. I agree with your entire review! Oliver rocks, Oliver is sweet, Oliver is perfected by his imperfections. Yep. Oh, and I'm still waiting for your update . . .  
  
jen - Wait no longer! Lol Well, actually, I guess you have to start waiting for the next chappie now, but that's beside the point. Glad you like my other stuff!  
  
ktluv - It's hard to reply to your review cuz everything that comes into my mind is either dirty or something that makes me sound like I'm high. Thanks for the review anyways, though. =-P  
  
sammy17 - Hint taken, received, and noted down. And acted upon! Wow! What a monster of efficiency I am . . . =-P  
  
Mione Weasley the original - Well, you got your answer to your question in this chappie. As for the Catherine vs. Katherine debate - I once knew a Katherine who I didn't care for much, so therefore out heroine is Catherine. *puts on Hermione voice* Besides, I looked up the possible derivative forms of "Catherine" and Katie with a K was there . . . lol sorry about that little outburst. Hope you liked this chappie. =-)  
  
Professional scatterbrain - Hope this was soon enough for you. I hate Malfoy! Well, in this story anyways, and in JKR's work.  
  
AllyCat - *phony New York accent* Balance, yes, balance! *returns to normal voice* OK, I really hope you've seen the Disney Aladdin, cuz otherwise that won't make any sense. Mind you, it prolly doesn't make sense anyway. Just think Iago the parrot and a little line envolving "merrit".  
  
elvencherry07 - I apologize for the shocking lack of fluff in this chapter . . . I hope to be able to get it back to its previous fluffy state a.s.a.p.!  
  
IEatGlue17 - What can I say that I haven't already mentioned in an email? I love ya, girl! Thanks for all your support and encouragement towards getting this posted!  
  
Ican'tthinkofanything - *looks proud* I have written large chunks of the next few chappies . . . I feel so virtuous! Yay! Thanks for the review!  
  
javadebater - So glad you like this one! Check my faves for good O/K fics!  
  
swimgirl - This is OFFICIALLY A SHOUT OUT - can't have you being sad and lonely, you know. There was a good reason for my omission last chappie, however: you didn't review it! =-( So now who's sad and neglected, huh? Lol j/k  
  
Katie Mae - Yes, the cookies helped a lot! I would like weekly shipments, please. =-) Were you right about the dark-haired witch? Three thousand pickles to you. =-)  
  
thatgirlfromcamp - lol Stop making me blush! There's a letter in the mail . . . Luvya, girl.  
  
pixydust3 - Hmmm . . . so you mean you want me to put my mind back in the gutter . . . well it might be managed eventually, you never know! Don't tell my parents! Lol  
  
InsearchofmyJames - Ooops . . .the charm wasn't supposed to be creepy . . . just cute. Ah well, you can't succeed all the time. Hope you enjoyed this chapter - well, hope you read it, anyway.  
  
Valerie Wood - Oh! My! God! You compared me to Elbereth! *does happy dance* That is a very big compliment! Thanks so much . . . Luv 4eva.  
  
Eowyn-Faith - Hehe your review made me blush. *sigh* I do that too easily. =-P  
  
Amanda - I hope you can help me get 50 for this one! Glad you appreciate my efforts!  
  
FicWriter1 - No commment. (There - happy?) What do you win . . . hmm . . . *digs in prize bag. AHAH! A white hedgehog grasping a papaya! Congratulations! Thank you, thank you, ladies and gentlemen . . . (OK, just don't ask . . .)  
  
Cindy - There you go! You got more! Happy? =-P  
  
sportzjunkie - Thank you! I can't really take credit for the Relating idea though - it just "came" to me all of a sudden. Remind me to give my muse a large box of chocolates.  
  
dormatt44 - Katie, Malfoy . . . all very sad . . . *sob* Review to make me feel better? *smiles winningly* C'mon . . . please?  
  
*author wipes brow* Whew . . . what a lot of work! I should really employ Lockhart to help me out. Then again, his ego might rub off on me . . . Perhaps I'd better stay away. I love you all and can faithfully promise to reply to everyone who reviews! Love ya'll.  
  
Next Chapter:  
  
Part I: Katie's letter to Oliver and Oliver's reaction, during which Katie has to rely heavily on her acting talents.  
  
Part II: Katie being depressive (and making yours truly sad too!), QuidditchObsessed!Oliver, and a forbidden kiss.  
  
Part III: Author's friends and relations yelling at Katie, telling her to cheer up 'cuz she's making MadMadamMim cry.  
  
(lol)  
  
Well, I'm leaving to go on my last holiday of the summer soon, so I'd better wrap it up.  
  
I love you all! I'm not setting a number, but just remember I want 50! (lol go me) The more you review, the quicker you get more (OK, maybe that isn't the best incentive - how about giant chocolate chips? OK, a giant chocolate chip to anyone who reviews.).  
  
Toodleoo.  
  
.-MadMadamMim-. 


	12. Are You Happy Now?

A/N: Sorry I took so long to update! New school, new responsibilities, crazy busy life! Another downer of a chappie I'm afraid . . . well, most of it anyways. Don't hurt me too much, please. Just remember - JKR gave us 766 pages of angst and anger. This is much shorter! Sorry for the bits that are over-the-top melodramatic. Shoutouts, and then more of my scribblings . . .  
  
NOTES TO MY BeLOvEd REVIEWERS and GIANT CHOCOLATE CHIP RECIPIENTS:  
  
Cho-Look-Alike - Yay! Thanks for reviewing once again! That quilt sounds pretty awesome. Yes, Katie is JUST a LITTLE bit taking things to the extreme. But then, she's afraid of what's inside as well as out, so that could make anyone act a little strange . . .  
  
pixydust3 - *reads through author contract* Hmm . . . nowhere in this does it say that I must provide my stories with happy endings . . . However, I'm not sure I would be able to live with myself if I killed *all* my characters off, so I suppose I'll just have to leave one or two breathing at the end. Thanks for the review!  
  
InsearchofmyJames - Awww . . . *sniffles* Sorry this wasn't up sooner! Maybe Oliver will just have to give Katie a dog . . . Orlando Bloom 4eva!  
  
elvencherry07 - Basically, Malfoy sucks. What more can one say? Enjoy.  
  
Professional scatterbrain - Yay! You liked the dream! (sorry . . . I was rather worried about that bit, you see) It's Oliver's job to save Katie - let's just hope he isn't too wrapped up in Quidditch to notice what's happening . . .  
  
SkysTheLimit - Hmmm - would you tell the guy that you love all that? Especially as, seeing that he's impossibly sweet Oliver, he would probably just convince you that he loved you anyway and that it was no big deal. But would he see it the same way when the Quidditch Federation or what-have-you shunned him? Well, I think that's where Katie's coming from. Or maybe she's just too scared to tell him. Wait, I'm the author. Right. So, um, I'm supposed to know what's going on in my characters' minds. Hmmm . . . can I get back to you on that one?  
  
IEatGlue17 - In no sense of the word was this "soon" - sorry! And for some reason I can't email you any more. Don't ask me why. . . Luvya! Keep on writing!  
  
zingy - Sorry you found Katie a little OTT dramatic . . . it's really hard to find that fine realistic line between dull and ridiculous. Keep reading/reviewing!  
  
swimgirl - My sympathies. I've been having my own computer problems . . . *sigh* Sorry I haven't been checking your fics recently . . . I'm ridiculously busy, which is why I only just updated. Thanks for the free advertisement lol  
  
Ashley - I hope you haven't abandoned me! Sorry you had to wait so long . . .  
  
ktluv - An extra giant chocolate chip to you! Your review made me laugh! =- P (and we all know I needed it after writing that chappie lol) Thanks so much! Hope you enjoy this update!  
  
Little House Girl - read on and see what happens . . . And yes, of course everything is Voldemort's fault - well, with the possible exception of everything that's Barney's fault. Enjoy!  
  
Sunnyflower2005 - Sorry it took me so long . . . I hope it's worth waiting for!  
  
Ican'tthinkofanything/Sugarhigh - As always, love the name (both of them, that is). I hope I can keep you interested and keep the reviews coming in!  
  
alenchic - I don't think I deserved such praise, but everybody loves to be flattered some of the time . . . Thanks for making me blush, even if it did make my friend think I was having a secret online relationship . . . (don't ask)  
  
Cynth - Well I'm not ignoring you . . . I really should mail my letter soon though lol  
  
hopelessromantic - Thanks for boosting my self-esteem! Maybe you'll get a lil more of the "scottie hottie" soon. =-)  
  
pere falc - *tear* I know! Bad Author! *slaps self* Thanks for the review!  
  
FicWriter1 - Well, there are a number of reasons I didn't update sooner, but most of them are stupid and all of them are boring, so we won't go there. So glad this took you where I hoped it would. May this chappie do the same!  
  
Itefaq - Re the burning thing . . . don't worry, I've thought of that . . . =-P (but thanks for looking out for plot holes - you never know when I might need to pull out the old duct tape). And of course "Oliver is . . ." =-)  
  
Katie Mae - Mmmmmm cookies! Yes, please! I seem to have got over my trauma, don't worry! =-)  
  
Babi - And I say you shall have it!  
  
Cindy - 50? I dunno, I've stopped counting. I have over 200 reviews now, anyways, so it's all good. Not to say that that's sated me . . . I still want MORE REVIEWS! Lol *evil laugh* Enjoy this chapter!  
  
Woody'sWickedWitch - *shrugs* Save the originality for your stories! Much more important than reviews! Lol But still, please R/R!  
  
lisa - Awww! Your review was so sweet! Luv 'n' hugs!!!!  
  
Cindy - Here we get to see just how many guts Katie has. Don't worry, I didn't mean literally. . .  
  
colorado-chick - Yay! Happy review! lol *does happy dance* *ahem* Sorry 'bout that . . . Let's just get on with the fic, shall we?  
  
Stephanie - Gotta luv being original! And hip hip hooray for having an Oliver Wood section now! =-)  
  
MysticTraveler - Thanks! Sometime (if I ever have any time ever again . . . ) I will read your fic. Its summary certainly looks interesting . . .  
  
icegirl-kat - Thanks for the awesome review! Glad you like it!  
  
Amanda - I said sorry, already, all right? lol I hope you haven't entirely given up on me . . . luv 'n hugs!  
  
*  
  
ON WITH THE FIC!!!  
  
*  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
Disclaimer: Guess what? It's STILL not mine! Imagine that . . . Thanks as always to JKR. Thanks also to the lovely and talented Michelle Branch, who's latest single has provided the title and some of the dialogue for this chapter.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
Relating Relations ~ Chapter Ten: Part One: Are You Happy Now?  
  
Dear Oliver,  
I must thank you for your friendship and your company for the past years. I regret that I will no longer be able to spend time with you - not alone, at any rate.  
If you are wondering at this, you have undoubtedly been taken in by me. Perhaps you are unaware of my Slytherin ancestry. As is Slytherin custom, I have been promised to another man for many years. Also according to custom, I have never thought much of this. Indeed, it has always added the spark of danger to my romances. My betrothed is, after all, far away - being several years my senior and already in the working world.  
However, today I had a warning from a friend: my fiancé will shortly be sending someone to watch me. Perhaps he lacks your trusting nature. But he is rich, which ought to make up for some minor faults. I am sorry to include you in this little game of mine - but I am sure you can understand what a great lark I thought it to snare the up-and-coming Quidditch sensation from under so many fangirls' noses. I couldn't resist - I'm sure I should act the same again.  
I will henceforth be forced to absent myself from your presence, excepting Quidditch practice (an innocent enough activity). I cannot afford to endanger so advantageous a match.  
Sincerely,  
Catherine Bell  
  
.~*~.  
  
I borrowed Alicia's owl to deliver the letter. I couldn't face him myself.  
  
He would hate me now, I realized as I watched Thales swoop lazily out of the window.  
  
Which is what you intended, my cold reasonable side repeated to me over and over. It was best this way. He would get over me when the truth came out, and be glad for his escape. I would not allow him to be tarred with the same brush, and I was sure that *I* would not be the one to ruin his career.  
  
Once more I lay down on the bed and cried myself to sleep.  
  
.~*~.  
  
While I was not visited by my grandmother again, my mind tortured me with cruel images. I saw my arm gushing with blood, Oliver's face deathly pale, newspaper headlines declaring my ancestry, and, over and over, the path towards that hateful clearing.  
  
I woke, drenched with sweat, to the sound of Angelina's voice.  
  
"Katie? Are you in here?"  
  
The door opened.  
  
"Oh - there you are. We're just heading to dinner . . . " she trailed off. "Are you OK, Katie? You look flushed."  
  
I found my voice. "It-It's OK," I croaked. "I'm not really hungry. Maybe I'll come down a little later, alright?"  
  
Ange surveyed my twisted sheets, and reached forward, feeling my forehead.  
  
"Katie!" she exclaimed. "You're burning up! Do you want me to fetch Madam Pomfrey?"  
  
I smiled weakly. "It's OK, really. I'll just sleep for a little bit. I'm just tired - maybe I'll feel better."  
  
Ange looked unconvinced, but she left again anyways.  
  
"Burning up," I thought. What a repulsive choice of words.  
  
I heaved myself out of bed minutes later. I showered, trying to wash away my dreams as well as my sweat.  
  
I couldn't settle at anything. I didn't want to sleep anymore - I could hardly keep the horrors waiting in my subconscious at bay when I was awake! I stared out the window at the darkening drizzle.  
  
.~*~.  
  
I was attempting to distract myself with some DADA study when furious knocking beat suddenly upon the dorm door and, before I could respond, the door burst open.  
  
There Oliver stood, wet and windblown in his practice robes, a piece of parchment in his hand.  
  
"What's this?" he asked, waving the parchment. "What the hell is this, Kat? It's not April Fool's, for Devil's sake!" His voice and gestures were wild.  
  
My letter.  
  
"I'm sorry Oliver." I turned back to my text, afraid he would see the tears threatening to overflow.  
  
"You mean this is serious. You're serious. You're calling it all off."  
  
His deadened voice cut into me. How could I do this to him? I bit my tongue. I had to stay strong, to save him. I was doing this for him, I reminded myself forcefully.  
  
"I said I'm sorry." I still couldn't face him.  
  
"Sorry? SORRY! All we've had together - our friendship, Quidditch, our relationship. All a game? A charade? I don't believe it. I don't, I can't. I won't believe it."  
  
He sounded ready to punch something. With any luck not me, I thought. Although in some ways it would make it easier . . . at least then I would have a reason and a grievance to justify my actions.  
  
"I would have thought you had more faith in my acting abilities," I said, keeping my voice light and tight.  
  
"Katie . . . Kat." He ran a hand through his hair. "Why are you doing this to me?"  
  
If only he knew. If only I could tell him.  
  
At my silence, he gave a shuddering sigh.  
  
"Kat - look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me, and I'll go. Just tell me to my face." His voice was full of hopeful trust.  
  
If ever there was a time for acting, this was it. Images flashed through my mind. Oliver grinning with success at making the team; Oliver greeting my at platform 9¾ after a long summer's separation; Oliver rejoicing over Harry's skill; Oliver relieved at the end of OWLs; Oliver in Divination; Oliver sharing a towel with me; Oliver in his dorm; Oliver presenting me with the earrings; Oliver kissing me. And the radically different Oliver that had just barged into my room.  
  
I took a deep breath, and blinked back tears. He was worth too much. I had to be able to do this.  
  
I turned slowly to face him, gradually lifting my eyes to his face.  
  
"Just tell me," he whispered, "Just look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me, and I'll go."  
  
I swallowed and took another deep breath. Then, meeting his gaze, I spoke, clear and strong.  
  
"I don't love you. I'm sorry."  
  
He trembled for a moment, fighting for control. Then slowly, deliberately, he ripped my letter in half and crumpled it, then threw it to my feet.  
  
"I hope you're happy now."  
  
He stormed out of the room, slamming the door, leaving me in sudden deafening silence.  
  
.- ~*~ -. A/N: Ooooooh . . . poetic ending I know! lmao I apologize to all of you that actually read all of that. I really don't like this *sigh* - too OTT. Nevermind. Oh, and sorry it's rather short, but it is only the first part of chapter ten. Please review! I'm crazily busy, so unless I see there's the demand, I might not be able to manage another chappie for at least another month and a half. *sigh*  
  
More reviews! Faster! lol  
  
Toodleoo. .-MadMadamMim--. 


	13. All You Wanted

A/N: Here you go! Only a week between updates. Are you happy now? No, that was last chapter. (sorry, in a really weird Socials homework-induced mood) Thanks again to Michelle Branch, who has once again provided the chapter title. Thanks also to Pirates of the Caribbean, who provided one little snippet in this story (see if you can spot it . . . there's a jellybean in it for you =-) This is the second part of chapter ten - there is one more part to come. Since I can't spend the same amount of time every day or week working on this as I did during the summer, I'm going to publish some of my chapters in sections, just so you don't have to wait for a month again!  
  
NOTES TO MY ChERisHed REVIEWERS:  
  
You guys are what keep me going! =-)  
  
pixydust3 - Really? Promise? Lol Here's your update! Get all your friends to review hehe.  
  
IEatGlue17 - Don't worry, it's all planned out. I know how it's going to end. Well, actually there are two different versions, but I think I might go with the happy ending. (Unless you're mean to me lmao) Thanks for updated DiftF@3! =-)  
  
Cho-Look-Alike - lol Keep your hat on - you got your update! (and you only had to wait a week . . . can you see my halo yet?)  
  
kat6528 - No I didn't HAVE to do that. But it makes it more interesting, don't you think? Stories all fluff and no conflict get boring after a bit . . . Besides, I'm writing to get better at writing as well as just to amuse myself.  
  
Professional scatterbrain - I know . . . I have to admit I've cried over this myself . . . *sniffles*  
  
AllyCat13 - *sighs and casts quick shield charm to protect herself from AllyCat's missiles* My apologies lol I can promise some stuff that's a little happier next chappie . . . or perhaps the chapter after that. No eviction notices! Lol I'd just become a squatter . . . (couldn't desert Sean lmao)  
  
zingy - I'm glad you liked this one better. Yep, that'll have to be the eventual moral of the story, won't it? Lol Keep on R&Rin'! =-)  
  
Little House Girl - This soon enough for you?  
  
Sunnyflower2005 - That letter was really hard for me to write, actually. I just couldn't imagine Katie saying anything like that . . . *sniffles* Now I'm all depressed . . . lol  
  
ktluv - Homework, just gets in the way all the time, doesn't it? lmao Hooray for cookies! I think they're the only think that gets me through my homework, actually lol  
  
itefaq - Yay! You're the only reviewer who's told me it would be OK if I didn't use a classic "happy ending". I always love to hear from you. Good luck with Chemistry!  
  
Marissa - Thanks so much. Believe me, making a reader cry makes authors very happy. That sounds really bizarre, now that I think about it, but it's a compliment to the writing, I guess . . . Enjoy this chappie.  
  
Koala Tangerine - How could I stop? I think I'm addicted . . .  
  
mione1031 - They will, eventually, I think . . . Hang in there . . .  
  
icegirl-kat - Aye, aye, ma'am! Here's your update, SIR!  
  
SkysTheLimit - Well let's just hope it all gets better lol  
  
thatgirlfromcamp . . . I feel like a horrible friend! I STILL haven't mailed that letter. *cloud of guilt* I will try to mail it this weekend . . . Luv n hugs!  
  
TheOneandOnlyElbereth - *sigh* I know - what's with reviewers and only reviewing happy things? Lol Oh well, it'll get happier sumtime I guess and then they'll review some more! =-)  
  
colorado-chick - I know, I know, sometimes life just sucks . . .  
  
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ON WITH THE FIC!!!  
  
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Disclaimer: I'm sure you get the point by now. If not, well, I won't be rude.  
  
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Relating Relations ~ Chapter Ten: Part Two: All You Wanted  
  
I passed numbly through my Easter holidays. My days fell into a grim routine. I rose early, though rarely refreshed. Dreams continued to torment me, visiting me nearly every night. I breakfasted by myself before escaping with my texts and NEWT notes to the library or a secluded area of the grounds. I studied for hours on end, rarely stopping even for lunch.  
  
Mid-afternoon I met the rest of the Quidditch practice. Oliver was driving us harder than ever, forcing us out in all weather six days a week. He spoke to me only at practice, and then rarely to praise.  
  
I ate supper quietly, letting the babble and excited chatter of the Great Hall wash over me. I said as little as possible, ignoring any hurt looks and concerned whispers my friends shot my way. At first Lish and Ange had tried to talk to me about Oliver (it was, by now, common knowledge throughout the school that we had broken up), but I had told them I needed time, and they had proven themselves true friends by giving it to me.  
  
The evening found me studying again. I went to bed before my dormmates, only to rise again a few hours later when my dreams drove me out of bed. I wandered the corridors, not caring how cold I got. It was during these midnight excursions that I began to work on the lamia deflagratio potion that would solve all my problems.  
  
Many of the ingredients were hard to find. I pillaged Snape's stores several times as I began to gather my materials. A sterling silver ladle and cup were obtained at great expense by OwlOrder, upsetting my normally conservative bank book, but, as I reminded myself, you can't take money with you. I would begin the potion soon, but I had to wait for the next full moon, which, I discovered after consulting the almanac at the back of my astronomy text, was to be on April 9th.  
  
Meanwhile, I led a desperately lonely existence, but it was the one I had to live out until I could end it. The only bright spots were Quidditch and the occasional minute spent with Oliver, which were few and far between as I was forced to snatch them when I thought nobody, including Oliver, was watching.  
  
Once I stopped him in the hall, where he was badgering Harry about the Quidditch final AGAIN.  
  
"Only if we're MORE than 50 points up, Harry! Only THEN! More than 50 points, all right? Got that?"  
  
"YES OLIVER!" Harry shouted in exasperation. "I KNOW!!!"  
  
I had fears for Oliver's reproductive health if he continued to pester Harry like this. Not that I had any particular interest in Oliver's reproductive health - I just wanted to make sure we had a functional Keeper for the final. Yep, that's it.  
  
"Oliver!" I called across the hall. He snapped around at the sound of my voice - I hadn't spoken to him in days. I crossed the hallway.  
  
"Oliver, Harry knows, all right? We all know . . . it'll be fine." Harry had already made his escape. "I mean, the boy has fought off You-Know- Who twice - I think he can handle the concept of point differentials . . . "  
  
I rubbed his back reassuringly and turned to go.  
  
"Katie?" he rasped, grabbing my arm. "Are you sure? About us? I mean . . ." He trailed off, suddenly very close.  
  
"Oliver . . .," I let out a warning whisper. He paid no heed but encircled my waist with one arm pulling he roughly against him.  
  
My heart raced. I missed this SO much. My eyes fluttered closed. I felt Oliver's breath on my cheek, and then-  
  
NO!! What the hell was I doing? How could I?  
  
My eyes jerked open. I pressed two fingers over Oliver's lips, stopping him, although the sensations running up my arm made my heart beat even faster.  
  
"No, Oliver. I'm sorry-we can't, w-we mustn't."  
  
I shoved him off me and ran, not daring to look back.  
  
.~*~.  
  
The Saturday a week before the Quidditch match I began to make my potion. I had found the perfect place to brew my potion without the danger of discovery: tucked away on a little island in the middle of the lake, protected by a powerful warding charm which made my cauldron impossible for anyone to find save those who knew where it was. I tended the cauldron every second night, using a little rowboat I had transfigured from a boulder to get out to the island. Sometimes I took scraps of bread or banana to feed the Giant Squid.  
  
I paid dearly for my moment back in Oliver's arms. He refused to speak to me, but I felt his eyes following me. Whether they glared hatred or exuded sympathy I couldn't tell.  
  
I remained distant from Ange and Lish, simply telling them that I was tired and stressed out - a good excuse as NEWTs loomed only a dwindling two months away - whenever they questioned me. I doubted that they were fooled, but they left me alone, which was, after all, what I wanted.  
  
When classes resumed in the week preceding the Final, Oliver finally began talking to me again. However, I didn't really see this as a perk as it meant I had to dodge Oliver as well as numerous lurking Slytherins on my way to class - either party was bound to make you late.  
  
.~*~.  
  
The day of the match found me excited and nervous. I hadn't slept at all, but I had restricted my wanderings to my dorm, as rumor had it Oliver was prowling the common room to make sure his players were in bed.  
  
He fluttered over us during breakfast, forcing us to eat while touching nothing himself. Things were still stressed between us. This would never do.  
  
"Oliver-can I talk to you outside for a minute?" I asked, and cut Lish off mid-giggle with a well-placed glare.  
  
Oliver didn't look at me, but walked out to the entrance hall. I sighed, grabbed a piece of toast, and followed.  
  
Out in the relative quiet of the entrance hall, Oliver turned and looked somewhere above my head. "Yes?"  
  
"Oliver, look at me."  
  
He complied for a moment, gave me a sarcastic smile, and looked away again.  
  
"Oliver, I can't play like this, if we're still fighting."  
  
"Who says we're fighting?"  
  
"Well the fact that you hardly talk to me might give me some sort of clue that you're not happy." I couldn't keep the sting out of my voice.  
  
He took a deep breath, and looked straight at me. "Katie, all I've ever wanted is to be with you. But there are some things I won't take. It's not just Slytherins that have their pride, you know. May I remind you that you told me you can't be with me because you're betrothed to some Slytherin lout and that you were just playing with me? I fail to see how you can be the victim in this."  
  
I looked away from his intense gaze.  
  
"Look, can we just be friends for the rest of the year?"  
  
"Friends? After that letter? You're nuts, Kat. Just be happy I don't hate you." He turned on his heel and headed back to the Great Hall.  
  
I held back tears. No. I was not going to do this to him just before the match of his life.  
  
"Oliver!" I ran to catch up to him. "I'm sorry. Really I am. Perhaps someday you'll understand," I looked at my feet.  
  
"I understand that you treated me like scum and now you want to pretend everything's hunky-dory."  
  
"Fine! Don't try to work with me! That's just fine!" I yelled. "But it works both ways, Wood! Try finding another Chaser in the next two hours!"  
  
I ran up the stairs that led to Gryffindor Tower, and I didn't hear him follow.  
  
.- ~*~ -. A/N: There you go! Another chappie! Be happy! lol  
  
There has been a decline in reviews . . . I know you're busy, but so am I. If you guys don't want it, I don't have to post it . . . OK, I would never actually be that mean, but my poor little author ego's suffering. Reviews cheer me up when I'm waking up at six after five and a half hours of sleep. Reviews and caffeine, that's all *I* want . . .  
  
Toodles. .-MadMadamMim--. 


	14. The AllImportant Game

A/N: I guess I should start with my ritual apology for the fact it takes me so damn long to write these chapters. The truth is I have several chapters written - they're just not revised or typed up yet. And believe me, it's hard getting time on the computer in my house. I regret to announce that I simply don't have time to send shoutouts to every single reviewer. =-( Well, I mean I do, only then it would take me two months between chapters instead of one . . . Anyways, if you particularly want to talk to me (can't think why you would, but crazier things have been done . . .), feel free to read my bio and email me. Anyways, here's the concluding section of chapter ten.  
  
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ON WITH THE FIC!!!  
  
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Disclaimer: Is this actually a legal requirement? Or do people just put disclaimers in to make themselves look cool?  
  
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Relating Relations ~ Chapter Ten: Part Three: The All-Important Game  
  
In the end it was Alicia who convinced me to come down to the locker rooms. I changed in sulky silence, wondering why it couldn't have been Oliver.  
  
I felt guilty though. I mean, he had a point - I had been really mean to him. And apparently I hadn't even succeeded in my purpose - he didn't hate me! How could he not? I mean I still wanted him to talk to me, I just wanted him to leave me alone. No, wait . . . I mean I still wanted to be civil acquaintances, but not anything closer. So I should have been glad he didn't come to coerce me out of my dorm. Right?  
  
I sighed, and rested my head against the cool locker.  
  
A hand rubbed my back. "Are you OK?"  
  
I turned around to face him. "As if you really cared," I said with an attempt at distant nonchalance.  
  
Oliver just looked at me and slowly raised an eyebrow. I broke into a smile. Yeah, he saw right through me. He always does.  
  
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," I mumbled.  
  
"Well whenever you feel you can tell me what's going on, let me know, alright? This isn't like you, and we both know it." What was that about him seeing through me? What about the letter? What if he didn't believe it? I felt strangely happy for a moment before reminding myself that that was a bad thing. Shit. All that emotional uproar for nothing.  
  
I remembered that Oliver was still standing there. I slipped on my gauntlets and smiled at him.  
  
"Let's go pound them."  
  
My problems could wait until *after* the game.  
  
Oliver gave me a smile and then snapped back to captain mode. Gathering the team about him, he led us out onto the pitch.  
  
I saw rather than heard the crowd yelling. I walked in my own world, concentrating on the new play Wood had taught us last practice. Feint down, then up, then spin and layback for the give-n-go. I touched the turf, scooping a little of the muddy grass up to stuff under my sock for good luck.  
  
"Captains, shake hands."  
  
I sent calming vibes to Oliver, but they didn't seem to soften the murderous glare he was giving Flint.  
  
"Mount your brooms."  
  
I clambered onto my Cleansweep Seven, stroking its handle soothingly as I felt it quiver with excitement. Finicky things, broomsticks.  
  
"Three . . . two . . . one . . ."  
  
We were off. Alicia took immediate possession of the Quaffle, and I fell into formation. Soaring along I cared only about the Cup.  
  
I swerved to avoid a Bludger just as Alicia passed me the Quaffle, and Warrington intercepted. I tore back after him.  
  
CRUNCH.  
  
George Weasley got him first. Let's hope he broke something.  
  
Ange grabbed the Quaffle and sped away. I kept Warrington at bay, crossing my broom in front of his. Ange deked Montague, and-  
  
"Ange! Duck!" I yelled.  
  
She ducked and rolled to avoid the Bludger, and buried the Quaffle in the right hoop.  
  
"Yes!" I screamed with the crowd. Ange and I exchanged grins, and then she was spiralling out of control dangerously close to the ground.  
  
"Sorry!" called Flint. "Sorry, didn't see her."  
  
Like hell he didn't.  
  
I saw a scarlet movement out of the corner of my eye and then Flint's nose was gushing courtesy of Fred Weasley's bat. I sighed. Honestly. Couldn't he just leave it at increasing our lead? Why waste it?  
  
Sure enough, Madam Hooch awarded a penalty to the Slytherins as well as to us. Testosterone. I ask you.  
  
Alicia put the Quaffle away no problem. Then it was Flint's turn.  
  
"Come on, come on . . . you can do it Oliver," I muttered.  
  
Flint flew forward. He aimed left, feinted right, and shot to the left. The Quaffle spiralled towards the hoop . . . and straight into Oliver's outstretched hands.  
  
I let out a proud whoop. Oliver gave me an infectious grin as he threw me the Quaffle. I feinted down, then up, and spun away from Montague's clutching hands to toss it back to Alicia. I received the give-n- go and we were off again.  
  
A few minutes later, I dodged Warrington and pelted forwards to find only Montague between myself and a thirty-nil lead. I came level with him, then quickly stopped and reversed, letting him soar out over the crowd. I lay against my broom, urging it forwards.  
  
Then suddenly my neck jerked and I was cartwheeling through the air. A lucky grab found my broomstick again as Madam hooch blew her whistle. I clambered back on, moved my neck to assure myself of no serious damage, and shot Montague a contemptuous look. Cheater.  
  
Madam Hooch sent him away with a flea in his ear, and I got my thirty- nil lead.  
  
The next piece of excitement came as I circled, marking Flint. I saw Harry go into a dive, and for a moment I doubted the boy's mental arithmetic. Then I saw Oliver determinedly not looking at his right goal post, where I glimpsed a shimmer of gold.  
  
I sneered at Flint as Harry's quick maneuvering sent the two Slytherin Beaters crashing into each other, and hurtled down to complete the Barkov Bend. Angelina streaked up the pitch neck and neck with Flint, and lost possession as a Bludger sped past her right ear. Flint caught it and sped away towards Oliver, who looked very small from my distance.  
  
Flint shot high, with so much force that Oliver's hand was pushed back through the hoop. I swore in unison with Lee up in the commentator's box. The Slytherins cheered. Oliver sent me an apologetic look and I shrugged.  
  
We'd get it back.  
  
.~*~.  
  
Half an hour later we were leading 70-20 thanks to two more ridiculous fouls, a spectacular save by Oliver, and a goal apiece for Lish and I. We also had an injured Keeper - two Bludgers to the stomach will do that.  
  
Anytime now, Harry.  
  
As if he'd heard me, Harry suddenly shot upwards, his hand outstretched. Before he could clinch the victory, however, his broom slowed down and stopped.  
  
That rotten, stinky, slimy, good-for-nothing, blankety-blankety-blank- blanking MALFOY!!! He had grabbed the tail of Harry's Firebolt and was hanging on for dear life.  
  
Madam Hooch's whistle sounded again, and she screeched at Malfoy for a good five minutes. It wouldn't be her fault it the bastard could still hear this evening.  
  
Alicia took the penalty, but threw it well wide in her anger. I chanced a look back at Oliver. I had thought his stare murderous before, but that look paled in comparison to the daggers he was now glaring at Malfoy. It would almost be worth losing the match to watch Wood kill Malfoy. At least Oliver could put it towards his community service credits.  
  
We struggled to regain our composure as the Slytherins continued to foul us left, right, and centre. I really need to look up a jinx against Slytherin gropers. Yech.  
  
Oliver got control of himself, and quickly restored our calm by yelling at us in his most customary drill sergeant's voice.  
  
"Smooth swing, Fred! Tighten up-crisp passes, girls!"  
  
"Ladies!" I yelled back at him, pulling a face.  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Harry - HURRY UP!!!"  
  
I snatched the Quaffle from Flint and hurtled straight at Warrington, who quickly got out of the way. I passed to Alicia, who quickly passed to Angelina below her. Suddenly my check had disappeared. I looked around to see six green players converging on Angelina. I froze. She'd be smashed to smithereens!  
  
Before I could do anything a red blur zoomed towards the group. Harry. The Slytherins scattered. Ange soared to the undefended hoops as the crowd took a collective breath. Despite Wood's lectures on concentration, I glanced over my shoulder.  
  
Shit. Malfoy was diving, miles ahead of Harry.  
  
"GO, HARRY!" I heard Wood roar.  
  
As Harry dove I heard Lee proclaim, "SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor lead by eighty points to twenty!"  
  
Good girl, Angelina.  
  
Keeper Bletchley didn't even bother to throw the Quaffle back to centre field. He just tossed it idly from hand to hand, a satisfied smirk on his ugly face. Ooooh I think I just found my inner testosterone . . .  
  
I snapped my attention back to Malfoy to avoid attacking Bletchley. I almost did a double take-Harry was drawing level!  
  
Maybe we had a chance?  
  
Only 30 feet to go . . .  
  
Harry threw himself forwards, grabbing with both hands, and pulled out of his dive. For a split second there was silence, and then the stadium erupted.  
  
We had won.  
  
.~*~.  
  
Fifteen minutes later I was still sobbing uncontrollably and hugging everyone at random. I couldn't compete with Oliver, though,-he was sobbing so profusely he could have filled the Cup in ten seconds flat. He lifted the Cup high above his head, and I beamed through my tears even as the crowd did the impossible and increased in volume.  
  
We were borne away on the shoulders of the red-and-gold crowd. Only when Oliver insisted that no, people not registered on the team were definitely not allowed in the locker rooms did they let us down.  
  
Oliver hugged each of his players before dismissing them to the showers, saving me for last. Pulling me into a bear hug, Oliver whispered ecstatically into my ear.  
  
"We won it, Kat! We finally won it!"  
  
"Was there ever any doubt?" I asked teasingly.  
  
"Not once you said it would happen." He grinned cheekily. I rolled my eyes. Shameless flatterer. Gotta love him.  
  
"Mmm, I love you Oliver," I whispered to his neck, and pulled his mouth down to mine. It took him a moment or two to recover from shock and kiss me back. As his tongue pressed insistently against my lips I regained my senses. My euphoria dropped away as quickly as it had arrived with Harry's superb capture.  
  
I did the only sensible thing: I ran.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
THAT'S ALL, FOLKS!  
  
Toodleoo.  
.-MadMadamMim--. 


	15. Butterbeer Confessions

Relating Relations ~ Chapter Eleven: Butterbeer Confessions  
  
"How, how, how could I have been so stupid?" I asked myself for the thousandth time in the last ten minutes. The answer seemed to be getting farther and farther away - banging my head on the shower wall probably wasn't helping. The jubilance of winning couldn't have entirely worn off yet, though, because I did not yet feel the outright despair I felt half an hour later.  
  
Sitting sideways in an armchair I surveyed the scene. Fred and George had of course put on a marvelous spread, including several dozen bottles of Butterbeer. People everywhere were going over and over every play of the match, while a number were dancing to let their excitement out so as not to explode.  
  
"Why so glum, Katie?" A voice behind me made me jump.  
  
"Oh - hey Lee!" I smiled and attempted to sound enthusiastic. "I just can't take it all in yet . . . imagine . . . WE WON! W ACTUALLY WON THE BLOODY CUP!"  
  
I stopped, doubting very much the credibility of my fake smile. However, at that point Lee's head bobbed back into view and I realized he was already way too far gone to notice. The joys of Butterbeer.  
  
He laughed, then whispered seductively in my ear, "Have a drink, Katie." I shivered despite myself. Shameless flirt.  
  
He tossed me a bottle, which I deftly uncapped and chugged. Lee whistled, impressed.  
  
OK, that was stupid . . . I feel sick. I smirked at Lee anyways.  
  
"Well," he said, "'fraid I can't stay around here all night . . . so many girls . . . so little time . . . ." He sighed dramatically and vanished back into the crowd of jumping, dancing people.  
  
People kept handing me Butterbeers, congratulating me on some play or other, and then disappearing back into the crowd. After my sixth bottle, I allowed a blushing fifth year to lead me into the mob of dancers. By the time I'd emptied me ninth, I was feeling much better about it all. I would deal with it all in the morning - or later, anyway. Sure. Sounds good. Drink up, Katie.  
  
Percy once again made the youngsters go to bed, and gradually the common room began to empty, although grumbles and protests could still be heard emanating from the two spiral staircases.  
  
When only fifth, sixth, and seventh years remained, Fred and George dimmed the candles. We lay on the floor in one huge snuggle pile. My head was on Lee's chest while the rest of me was lost in the warm tangle of bodies.  
  
Lee was attempting to pour the remains of his most recent Butterbeer down my throat - with little success. Not that I cared - I was giggling insanely. I nuzzled into Lee's chest, making him forget about other things and consequently empty Butterbeer all over my shirt.  
  
"Lee!" I tried to be mad, but it wasn't working. "Ah t' hell wid it . . . " I murmured, then burst into giggles.  
  
"Shorry, darlin'. . ." Lee slurred, sounding decidedly unrepentant.  
  
"No problem . . . no problem at all . . . jusht let me up sho'sh I can . . . um . . . uh . . . change, that'sh it. . ." I struggled out of the stupourous pile, stumbling as I tried to stand up.  
  
As quickly as I could, I stripped off my shirt, flinging it somewhere into the darkness. I heard a couple of murmurs from the pile; then Lee yelled, "Gonna strip for us, Katie? Or just gonna stand like that all night?"  
  
Well, I mean, I was fine like this, right? I mean I was wearing a bra and all . . . Strip? Me? Hey- why not?  
  
I grinned. "Get me another Butterbeer, then."  
  
I kicked off my shoes and someone handed me another bottle as music suddenly filled the room. I'm sure you know the song. I took a sip and began to move to the beat, swaying as I began to undo the top button of my jeans.  
  
Then I felt someone behind me and a blanket was wrapped around me.  
  
"Sorry boys, show's over!" A Scottish accent proclaimed.  
  
I heard Lee protest, "Ah, c'moffit, Oliver . . ."  
  
I struggled against my captor, but he just leaned down and whispered in my ear, "C'mon, Kat - we're going for a walk."  
  
"Oliver . . . ," I whined. "But I want to stay here . . . I'm not finished yet." I giggled.  
  
"C'mon Kat." He pulled me towards the door. When I resisted, he scooped me up and carried me, muttering under his breath.  
  
"What?" I asked him when he set me down outside the portrait hole. "Why will I thank you in the morning?"  
  
I was confused. He'd just spoiled my fun. I pouted. "Now what?"  
  
"Now," Oliver spoke slowly and sternly, "We are going to take a walk in the nice, cool air."  
  
Why was he talking to me like a small child? There's a word for that. . . starts with a "p" . . . Then again, who really cared? I was sneaking around a darkened castle with Oliver! I giggled and tried to take a step, but stumbled and tripped over the blanket.  
  
Oliver caught me, sighed, and picked me up again. I snuggled into him, sighing contentedly.  
  
.~*~.  
  
Outside, Oliver carried me down to the Quidditch pitch. Climbing into the stands, he gently set me down.  
  
"Are you okay?" He was so sweet, so concerned.  
  
I nodded happily. "Shure-why wouldn't I be?"  
  
He smiled, a little sadly perhaps. "Well," he said, "I'm not okay. I miss you."  
  
He looked away. "I miss you SO much. I just want you back, Kat."  
  
He turned back to me. "I love you." He drew me into a hug - a brotherly hug, but a reassuring, loving hug nonetheless. I shook my head, trying to clear it, and made the effort not to slur my words.  
  
"But Oliver - my letter . . . " I whispered, hardly daring to break the moment.  
  
He held me at arm's length. "Kat, that letter was total rot - we both know that. That's what hurts so much . . . why did you have to make up something to escape me? Am I really that horrible?" He gave a hollow little laugh.  
  
"No, Oliver, you're not," I reassured him. "In fact, you're the bes-" I stopped. Deep breath, Katie. "But I told you I didn't love you. Do you not believe me? I can tell you again, if need be." Through the alcohol- induced fog in my brain, I strengthened my resolve to rebuff him again.  
  
"Kat," he whispered, suddenly seductive.  
  
"Yes?" I asked nervously. Uh-oh . . .  
  
"This . . ." Oliver cupped my face with one hand and quickly joined our lips. I fought to remain passive, but it's just not possible when Oliver's kissing you. I wrapped my arms around his neck, not caring that the blanket had slipped from my shoulders.  
  
At last, Oliver broke the kiss. He was flushed and triumphant.  
  
"So you don't love me, huh, Kat? Not at all? Don't tell me that was all just lust . . . ."  
  
I blushed and giggled, a little embarassed. "Fine. I love you. There. Happy?" I sighed. "It doesn't change anything." I hate my grandmother! I hate her, I hate her, I hate her!  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"It doesn't change anything - we still can't get back together," I muttered miserably, and pulled the blanket back up around my shoulders.  
  
"Why the hell not?" Oliver shouted. I hate it when he's like this . . . I would have to tell him. Tell him the truth. If he hated me, so much the better.  
  
Gradually, haltingly, I spilled out my story - my grandmother, my power, Malfoy, the dreams, EVERYTHING. Throughout, Oliver showed no sign of emotion but simply listened.  
  
"So you see," I sniffled, wiping my eyes with a corner of the blanket, "I can't be associated with you - I could ruin your career, or worse! I'm dangerous. I have a Dark witch's blood in my veins . . . Don't you see? I love you too much to endanger you." I angrily brushed my tears away. I stood up "I'll go now. I understand you won't want to talk to me now that you don't have to for Quidditch and such. Goodbye, Oliver." I turned to go.  
  
"Kat!" Oliver rasped, grabbing my arm and pulling me down into his lap. "Do you really think I could ever hate you? I love you, remember?" He stroked my cheek. "I wouldn't care if Grindelwald himself was your blessed grandfather. I care about *you*. Do you really think I would place my Quidditch career ahead of you? I know that most people think that Quidditch is my number one priority, but you of all people should know that isn't true. I'll always be there for you, all right, Kat? I'll always love you."  
  
It was all too much. Tears bubbled up inside me and I sobbed into Oliver's chest while he stroked my hair and rocked me back and forth. When my sobs had subsided into sniffles and then into hiccoughs, I turned my face up to his.  
  
"I love you, Oliver Wood, - just don't let it go to your head!"  
  
He grinned, obviously relieved I was a little more my old self. He leant down, kissing the tears off my cheeks. I shuddered.  
  
"You're shivering - here, have my shirt." Oliver quickly stripped off his shirt and handed it to me.  
  
Which left me staring at his oh-so-close bare chest. I closed my eyes and swallowed. I heard him chuckle.  
  
"That irresistible, am I?"  
  
"Don't flatter yourself!" I grabbed the shirt and whacked him with it. Suddenly there was a breeze on my back and I looked down to find that only my bra protected me from the night air. Damn blanket.  
  
I glanced up at Oliver. His eyes were dark, seeming to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it.  
  
I raised my eyebrows.  
  
"That irresistible, huh?"  
  
Oliver didn't need to answer me. He kissed me forcefully, drawing me tight up against him. I melted into his kiss, and felt his fingers fiddle with my bra clasp.  
  
.- ~*~ -.  
  
A/N: Well, we'll just leave it there, don't you think? Sorry about all the sappy bits, but I'm not really sure how to avoid them so sometimes they just have to be there. Hope you enjoyed all the fun bits.  
  
MERRY CHRISTMAS!  
  
I hope Santa/St. Nick/Father Christmas/the fat old guy in the red suit is good to you all!  
  
Toodles. .--MadMadamMim--. 


End file.

Harry Potter, Drama, Romance