People Like Us (Tag: Katie Bell)

[Oliver Wood]

Time Period: Last Day of School at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1994.

OOC: This is obviously what you might "term" a past thread, to play out events that have happened before the present time. As there's no board for this, it'll just be going here. Don't be concerned; it's hardly any different to threads set in the present.

Smoke hung in a hazy cloud above the station, a constant companion to the chugging hisses and the piercing toot-a-toot's of the gleaming red steam engine that was the Hogwart's Express. It was uncommonly warm with such a large crowd milling about - departing students and joyous parents and loud, rambunctious siblings not yet old enough to attend Hogwarts - the sort of crowd that could very well lead to fainting fancies if one was cooped up in there too long without the cooler air of Spring outside. Owls hooted, cats yowled, people chattered and children squealed in delight as they were reunited with their families, full to the brim with stories of their school year that would last well into the night, bubbling over at the prospect of the free Summer ahead of them. It was absolute pandomonium.

Oliver was going to miss it like crazy.

Graduation for this year's batch of Seventh Years had barely been a day and a half ago, and his head still spun at the prospect. Graduation. From Hogwarts. NEWTs done, of age, adulthood. The year had gone by so fast, and quite frankly, he could still barely imagine that he would not be returning again, with this same gaggle of students now buzzing about him. Not as a student, at any rate. It was a saddening thought even as it thrilled the senses, knowing that you no longer needed school, that you were a recognised adult, free to do as you pleased in the real world. But you were leaving Hogwarts, a place that had been one of security and protection and love and practically your home for the very important years of your life. The place where you found the deepest friendships, the kind you cherished all your life; you were leaving them, too. Friends. Family.

Nothing would ever be the same.

Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.

The Headmaster's simple words upon graduation echoed in his head, and Oliver chuckled huskily at his own sentimentality, swallowing hard the lump growing in his throat. Coughing slightly, he cleared his throat, looking over his shoulder to ensure his trunk had survived the jump between train and platform, before letting his gaze wander with an eagerness that had not abated in all his years as a student - the eagerness to see family once again. One simply had to find them in the cacophany and chaos.

Of course, his family weren't the only ones he was looking out for. Many of his Seventh Year friends he'd bid goodbye to yesterday, to make things easier (and less embarrassingly emotional on Platform 9 and 3/4), but there were others. Or an other, if you wanted to be pedantic. And he rather felt he needed to see them -- her. Partly because he wasn't sure if and when he'd see her next, partly because he needed to do it before his courage failed and he fled like the coward he was covertly.

"Uncle Olly! Uncle Olly!"

He might have winced horribly at the nickname, shrieked for the world to hear, if it had come from anyone else. But he had long since resigned himself to a complete and utter inability to refuse his niece and goddaughter anything, and thus, he rolled his eyes weakly before following the voice. With good timing, too, as young Evelyn Wood was likely to bounce right off someone with the speed in which she was running at him and tumble right off the platform.

Evie, as she was affectionately referred to, had the dark, dark Wood eyes, and they sparkled with childish delight and glee as she bolted between people, pigtails flying behind her. Not for the first time, Oliver marvelled and warmed his heart at the sheer, unconditional delight in which small children greeted you purely because they loved you, and despite his somewhat sombre thoughts mere moments ago, a wide grin split the young wizard's features as he took a few jogging steps to meet her halfway, scooping her up and swinging her about in the air, his playful, throatier laugh punctuating her higher pitched, excited shrieks.

"Hello there, possum. Did you miss me?"

"Mm, nup." Oliver pretended mock offence at the retort, which immediately prompted the little girl to grin cheekily before wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, planting a wet smooch that was more raspberry than kiss on her uncle's stubbly cheek, but still served to utterly melt his heart all the same. Then he shifted his arms, lifting Evie to settle on his shoulders, warning her to hold on tightly so he could pull his trunk along. Evie responded a little obediently, nearly gouging her Uncle's eyes out in her bid to find something to grab onto, before settling for wrapping her arms around his forehead. Ah, the joy of children.

Following where he'd seen his niece run from moments ago, Oliver weaved and wended his way through the crowd, listening with half an ear to Evie's excited chatter over what they'd do in the summer now he was home, and 'was he home for good?', and then promptly changing the subject in the space of a moment onto what she'd done during the year he'd been at school. Oliver did his damnest not to laugh, knowing it would offend her, though the grin returned in full force when he finally spotted his sister's deceptively slender form. Disappointment coloured his face momentarily as he took note of the very obvious absence of their mother, and Siobhan noticed, as she always did in that scary way she had, smiling with a mixture of sympathy and her usual warmth even as she squeezed his arm, standing on tip toe to kiss her taller baby brother's cheek.

"Gross, Oliver. When was the last time you had a shave?"

Oliver's response was to make a rude face, crinkling his nose at her even as he retorted, "I figured I'd try something new with the end of school coming up. The girls like it, but then, you wouldn't classify as a normal gir-ow!"

Evie laughed even as her Uncle glared reproachfully as he rubbed his abused arm, though he smirked at the way in which Siobhan did just the same with her hand, making the same rude face at the abuse handed to her fingers by her brother's strong arms even as her eyes still sparkled with affection and genuine pleasure at seeing him again. Before either of them could say another word, though, Evelyn was shrieking again in delight, bouncing madly on Oliver's shoulders and thoroughly abusing his chest with her heels even as she pointed and waved madly.

"KatieKatieKatie! I see a Katie! Over here, Katie! 'member me, Kat-oops!" Of course and predictably, Evelyn had ignored her mother's scolding attempts to quiet her and nearly fallen off Oliver's shoulders in her mad bid to be noticed as a result, saved only by aforementioned Uncle's Quidditch-quick reflexes when he grabbed for her ankles, holding tightly to them as Evelyn struggled to push her way up his back and once again onto his shoulders, even as he graced the aforementioned girl, wherever she was, with a smile that was equal parts amusement, the resignation that was almost that of a parent dealing with a child, and oddly enough, a mite of what could have been trepidation.

Trust Evelyn, of course, to be the one who both threw him in the deep and solved the issue of finding who he was looking for. Children were damn useful like that.

[Oliver Wood]

It was like an inbuilt homing signal based around the dawn of mankind, back in eons past when cavemen beat each other with giant sticks to see who'd win the prize or the spoils of the hunt. Sussing out the competition and reacting in that primal, wholly (in(appropriate) manner that was subtle yet not, noticeable to some but ignorant to others. For women, it seemed to be a matter of evolution; they stood taller and made themselves noticeable, but otherwise ignored jealously the rival. Men, however, had changed little.

Not that Oliver would go beating anybody with a stick. Contemplate a hex, maybe, with a much smaller, magical stick.

But then again, he'd been raised far better than that, and by none other than the sister beside him, who greeted Katie with a warm smile and an unabashed 'it's good to see, sweetie', but would undoubtably know far more than she let on. And probably beat him up herself if he reacted untowardly, literally. And yes, Oliver still feared those beatings - Siobhan was all pleasant smiles and good humour, but it took surprisingly little to turn her into a vicious attack cat. It was hard though, not to scowl even a little at the way the Paddock boy had his hand wrapped in Katie's, though Oliver still did his damned best to stand taller, more imposing, dark eyes perhaps not glaring but certainly fixed on the other young man even as he clung to the child dangling comically off his shoulders. Clinging like she was something to be possessed, he was.

Bloody git.

Upon reflection, Oliver had to laugh, even ironically, at his pure, utter hypocrisy. Berating another for acting possessive when he was acting nothing short of territorial himself. It was a curiously deflating feeling, though, just a little one, that took residence in his chest, and to one who knew him, the flicker of disappointment was evident in expressive black eyes before he forced a smile. That wasn't too hard, with Evie babbling away; she was a balm to her Uncle's somewhat fragile temper even when she was being annoying. Most of the time.

"It was *wicked*," Evie was chirping, grinning ebulliantly at Katie even as she struggled to right herself. Clearly, she'd inherited the family's predisposition for daring tricks at high altitudes, even if falling from Oliver's shoulders technically didn't qualify. For a four year old, though, it was nothing short of brilliant, though she huffed and puffed and waved her arms, grabbing one shoulder finally before waving her other arm imploringly. Oliver rolled his eyes but was quick to oblige, grabbing her arm and dragging her upright again. Taking Evie's tiny hands in his and holding her arms out like a bird, he wet his lips a little before nodding offhandedly at Katie and her..er, attachment. As if it didn't matter at all.

"She didn't interrupt something, did she?" The last part was cut off by a not-quite-oof from the now former Gryffindor Captain; Siobhan, unable to tred on her brother's instep when neither were in robes, had surreptiously elbowed him in the side, though for him it was in a very pointed fashion. Oliver pursed his lips in an effort not to snap at her in annoyance, though he barely suppressed an irritated sigh before gently lifting Evie off his shoulders and setting her gently on the ground. He then subtly squared his shoulders, turning back to the couple (or not? He hadn't had any idea that Katie was suddenly dating someone...not that he had a right to know everything she did), doing his best not to look too serious (and thus make anyone else too suspicious) but nonetheless attempting to communicate to Katie that...well, would she mind?

"Could I have a word with you, Katie?" Oliver paused, before nodding his head in some direction away from the crowd, towards the end of the platform where it broke off into the countryside that the Hogwarts Express would travel to to get back to Hogwarts.

"It's nothing terrible, I promise. I won't keep you away for too long."

[Oliver Wood]

Oliver didn't bother to hide his smirk when Noah's own furious look met his, smugly tallying it as score one to himself despite how...well, assholey it was to do so. He promptly wiped it from his face though when Katie turned back to him, knowing full well that it could either antagonise her thoroughly (which he didn't want, for once) or make her curious (which was embarrassing, and he'd rather not answer questions like that in this crowd, especially with his sister looking curiously on). The smug dance of male victory continued in his chest even as he moved aside for Katie to pass, though, holding up a hand but not quite touching the small of her back; he wouldn't intend it, but such a thing - guiding her - could come off just as patronising as a pat on the head could.

"Shut up," he mouthed silently over her head at his sister. All she did was smile with that deceptive serenity of hers, waving him off like she hadn't a care in the world or a notion of what was (and had) occurred before taking the handle of his trolley so she could take his trunk and his owl and wait outside the station. Stifling a sigh, Oliver turned his attention back to where he was walking and the girl he was leading away from the crowd, finally stopping at the very edge. Here, he knew from brief experience, was the sort of niche where you couldn't be seen unless someone walked directly in front of you, and he motioned to it before leaning his back against the stone wall on the concealed side of it, shoving his hands in his pocket.

"What?" Oliver quirked a brow at Katie's expression, then smiled despite himself. "Don't give me that look, kitten. I'm fully entitled to warn you of every depravity school-age lads are capable of. It's part of being your friend."

Ah yes, friend. Friend. That sticky, sticky word.

Teasing aside, Oliver immediately began to feel awkward, his fingers twitching uncomfortably in his pockets. He honestly didn't have a clue as to how one started this. Not even an inkling of what to say. He knew what he wanted to do, more so with the pup snarling and snapping like he had in the background moments prior, but even Oliver knew that might be a bit of an impolitic way to start off discussion. So after a few moments, he pursed his lips, taking the safer course for the time being. And the halfway honest one.

"Actually...I did kind of want to see you before I left. Seeing as I won't be, well, back next year, and I don't know when I'll be able to catch up with you next. I mean, I haven't gotten an owl back from Puddlemere yet, but it looked pretty promising, so..." He shrugged awkwardly, and for a moment, looked exactly like the schoolboy he still very much was. Another awkward pause, then he spoke again, softer this time. Almost, almost gentle, for Oliver.

"You said the other day, during my graduation...you had something for me?"

OOC: FORGIVE ME DEAR BUT I HAD TO GIVE YOU AN OPENING FOR THAT PRESENT SHE HAS FOR HIM. <3

[Oliver Wood]

It was better than standing there awkwardly, and thus, Oliver was quick to take the small box from her hands for as much as the fact that it gave him something to do than anything else. Well, apart from the obvious; it was rude to not accept a gift out of hand, especially from a friend. And he was curious. And it was Katie, so both friend and curiousity. And it also gave him a little time to order his thoughts and ponder on his next pla--

"Oh. Katie..."

His voice was far thicker now than it had been and than he'd intended, but amidst her much louder babbling, it was barely audible. Hands calloused with the many years already spent regularly on a broomstick ran with almost uncharacteristic gentleness over the polished surface of the semi-precious stone, the sort of gentleness that had, up to that point, only ever been noticeable in the way Oliver handled the things most precious to him. Such as his family. His little niece. People and things he honest to Merlin cared for enough to display such a show of vulnerability.

Compared to precious stones, it would not have been extremely expensive, though nor would it have been cheap. But that was hardly the principle of the matter, and quite frankly, it was very much up Oliver's alley, so to speak. Which said a great deal, as he did not wear jewellery of any kind - lest Evie was forcing dolly necklaces on him during her games - and...hell. He didn't know what to think. Not coherently, anyway. It was the little things that were sticking, if nothing else - the colour, the polished surface, the little bits of conversation he made out (brave, protective, strong), even the fact that it was tied to strong black cord, as opposed to metal, because his skin was allergic to cheap silver and she knew that, Katie knew that and it showed.

The little things. It...they were what counted, weren't they?

It was suddenly, painfully clear now. Despite being an utter, complete coward, knowing he'd probably kick himself a bit for this now, later on, it was...clear as a bloody windless day of Quidditch, really. And she was rambling, as Katie tended to do when she got particularly excited or angry or nervous -things he knew and didn't mind and knew how to deal with and generally let pass by with nary an amused look or a teasing elbow nudge, things that *boy* wouldn't know arse from end. And while he always enjoyed a good Katie ramble...

It wasn't really that unusual for him to move that much closer to her; he'd hugged Katie quite a few times before. Practically smothered her to death this year when Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, his last year. But this was somehow markedly unusual even if it seemed not so much on the surface, and perhaps she'd notice. And if she didn't notice it from the start, there was no mistaking the difference in the way the same calloused hands that had run over the pendant now touched a smooth cheek, fingers catching a wayward blonde tress to push it back behind her ear before settling in a manner that could only be deemed affectionate on her lips, effectively silencing Katie and her self-recriminations.

"Hush," Oliver said softly, almost huskily (or was it simply the way his Scottish accent played with his vocal tones?), soft, warm breath barely a ghost against the same hair he'd pushed back just a second ago. And the words might have been patronising, teasing, if it had been but for the look in dark eyes. "Hush now, Kitten..."

And then, before Gryffindor courage could fail him, Oliver kissed her. Soft at first, firm but just that little bit tentative. Letting her push away if she so wished. But he hoped she didn't.

[Oliver Wood]

He was a complete bastard; he knew that all too well. Acting like a bastard for every moment she'd ever had a boyfriend. Acting like a bastard for fooling himself. And definitely, utterly, completely acting like a bastard right now. A selfish, sodding bastard; she was meant to be his friend, and while he'd never ever willingly manipulate her, it was exactly what he was doing. She had a boy not even five hundred metres away in the crowd, a nice pansy-ass kid who'd run at the first sign of danger, probably do his best to look after her, who wasn't just old enough that he was about to leave school for good on this very day. Not to mention leave her.

Oliver wanted nothing but the best for her. Katie was his friend. He cared a great deal more for her than he did most people. But he was still a complete and utter bastard, in his books, and he would undoubtably kick himself for it...later.

Later. It was barely even a word formed in his mind when she kissed him back, rather than deck him like he probably deserved, and for a moment, the one who usually took control of a situation - Quidditch Captain indeed was caught wrong-footed, inhaling sharply at both the response and the ferocity of it. Instinct all but took over logic - Oliver's response, once he was back on the right foot, was immediate; he reciprocated in kind, deepening the kiss (but not quite enough for it to go entirely from sweet to passionate), hands sliding gently up her back and arms gathering her closer - though again, not pressing her so tightly to him that it overstepped the line of sweet to passionate and overzealous.

She was still kissing him back, though.

"Katie," he murmured against her lips before he could stop himself, voice low and just husky enough for it's Scottish brogue to be more pronounced than ever. The kiss broken, Oliver allowed himself the small reprieve of leaning one stubbly cheek - he'd forgotten to shave this morning and had avoided getting in trouble for doing so, a small mercy granted on one's last day at school - into the hand she placed there, rubbing against it gently. Closing his eyes momentarily, then reopening them - dark and black but entirely devoid of the hot emotion that usually rent them such a colour. They were warm and oddly soft despite the depthless colour, though there was a hint of playful heatedness when Oliver leant in again to bump his nose gently against hers, a calloused hand reaching up again to play with an errant strand of blonde hair on one cheek while his lips gently found the other, preferring this to words. Because he wasn't good with words, and he never really had been. Not in this sort of situation. Or when he did speak, he was rather too brutally honest, and people tended not to like it.

"Just so you don't forget me too quickly for that Paddock boy."

...even if he obviously couldn't help himself, even now. But then, Katie had never judged him harshly for his abrasive nature, either. And that smile...and someone had to say something...

[Oliver Wood]

Oliver couldn't help it. It made him a right git but he just...could not help it. Whether it was masculine pride or the warm bubble of delight swelling in his chest that made him do so, he didn't know. Regardless, Oliver couldn't help the smile that wasn't quite a smirk curling his mouth at her rather dazed admonition, smug playfulness glinting in his dark eyes even as his knuckles found gently her cheek. It was impossible to hate himself, not at this very moment in time, and she was just damned adorable. And for all he cared, someone, anyone could look in upon them and...well, he wouldn't *care*.

"I like the sound of that," he growled softly, playfully, thoroughly and obviously pleased at her breathlessness and her inability to remember who exactly he referred to for a moment. If the thought had crossed Katie's mind to scold him, though, he quickly avoided allowing her to do so, gathering her up again into his arms - tightly, close as concievably possible to him - and kissing her again, far more deeply this time. Fully intending, if for a moment, to have her - both of them - forget the rest of the world.

[Lakin!]

- Closed -
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