Either/Or

Chapter 2: The Age of the Not so Innocent

Oliver tried to stifle a yawn, but it came out anyway. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and now he was standing in the freezing cold with other Hogwarts students. They were all waiting for the carriages that would bring them to the Hogsmeade Station. And after that, Oliver would be on his way to Altenaia... wherever that was.

After expelling another yawn, Oliver collapsed onto a stone bench and watched as the Weasley twins, along with Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan, made their way towards him.

"Hi, Oliver," Angelina said cheerfully as she sat down beside him. Angelina was one of the team's chasers (along with Katie and Alicia Spinnet), and a very close friend of the twins as was Lee Jordan, who often did the commentary for the quidditch matches.

"Any secret strategies for the match with Ravenclaw?" Le inquired, all the while stuffing his pockets with what appeared to be stink pellets.

Before Oliver could answer, George suddenly pointed and said, "Speaking of Ravenclaw..."

The others turned to see Roger Davies, a Ravenclaw sixth year and captain of his house's quidditch team. Oliver watched as Davies approached Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff team captain.

Oliver's eyes widened. He could only think of what they were talking about. They were probably trading secrets about how the Gryffindor team had been playing so far. The next Gryffindor match would be with Ravenclaw and Davies was probably looking around for information.

Hufflepuff had beaten Gryffindor and team was still smarting from the defeat. Or at least the boys were. The girls all seemed to be tripping all over themselves at the mere sight of the two quidditch captains.

"They're so gorgeous!" Angelina clasped her hands together and gave a dreamy sigh. "Must be in their genes, you think?"

Fred almost immediately mocked the action. With his hands on his heart and batting his eyes he said in a high-pitched voice, "They're so gorgeous!"

But that wasn't what caught Oliver's attention (although, it did distract it a bit). "Genes?"

Angelina rolled her eyes. Oliver could really be exasperatingly thick sometimes. "Roger Davies and Cedric Diggory are cousins. Their mothers are sisters or cousins--or something like that..." She tilted her head slightly. "You really didn't know that, did you? My, my Oliver, where were you these past few years? Head buried in the quidditch pitch perhaps?" The smile on her face softened her reprimand. "You probably don't even know that Roger has a sister..."

Oliver's head snapped up in an instant. That was something he did know. "Arienne? Where is she?"

"She's right there! Can't you see her?"

No he couldn't. But he could still remember the last time they ever really talked to his childhood friend.

*****

It was the day of her father's funeral the year they turned thirteen. Her father had been suffering dreadfully from an incurable virus that he had contracted from a journey to the wild lands of Africa, before he passed on quietly. Oliver's father and Mr. Davies had been close friends since their days in Hogwarts, and the family had gone to the funeral where his father was one of the casket-levitators.

The funeral was over when Oliver had a chance to talk to Arienne. The funeral party had gone back to the Davies' house for a late luncheon and Oliver went out into the Davies' massive gardens. The Davies' were by no means rich--they were filthy rich. Roger and Arienne's mother was Athena Davies, a famous novelist in the wizard world for her Romance/Mystery books and their father, Robert Davies: explorer extraordinaire.

Oliver looked around the familiar grounds, inhaling the sweet smell of roses. He had spent most of his childhood there with Arienne and Roger--a result of his parents never being home, since they both held prominent positions in the Ministry of Magic. He knew the place like the back of his hand, almost as if he were in his own home.

Oliver stopped at the entrance of the giant shrub maze in the center of the gardens. He had been debating on whether or not to go for a quick look inside when he heard a noise that sounded almost like a sniffle. It was a sniffle.

He had only walked a few feet when he just barely caught himself from stumbling on a very familiar object.

"Arienne?"

They were both at Hogwarts now, and had just finished their second year. Oliver felt a bit guilty that he and Arienne weren't as close as they used to be. She had been sorted into Ravenclaw and he into Gryffindor. Although they were still close during their first year, it was this past year that caused them to grow apart. Because Oliver had finally gotten what he wished for even before he received his letter from Hogwarts. Oliver Wood was now apart of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Arienne was the first person he told and even though she claimed that she was happy for him, they both knew that things were going to have to change. And they did.

He had only found out about her father's illness that summer when his own father told him. Oliver always saw Arienne in school, but he never thought that something this bad was happening. He didn't know...

And neither did Oliver know what to do now. He could only watch the forlorn, bent and black-clad form of the person who knew him the most. But there was the sinking realization that perhaps, he didn't know her as well as he hoped.

He was lost... Oliver had never seen Arienne cry. For as long as he could remember, Arienne had always been brave, stubborn, headstrong, impatient and witty as hell. She had the amazing knack of getting herself into trouble and the even more amazing knack of getting herself out. But she had never cried. She didn't even cry during the funeral.

"Shouldn't you be comforting me right about now?"

Oliver sat down on the damp grass beside Arienne. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. What do you say to a person who just lost her father? Sorry for your loss? That's a given...

Arienne sighed. Then she sighed again.

"You don't have to say anything," she said, as if she had been reading his mind. Her head was still bent though, her long, curly brown hair a curtain that covered her face. "Just... stay with me?"

"Sure."

Silence.

Oliver fidgeted with his hands. He wasn't used to giving comfort any more than he was to receiving comfort. Whenever he was depressed, Oliver chose to deal with it by himself. Any disappointment, any failure... he bore them all alone. Even Arienne, who could always read everything about him, could never approach him during those times. That's just the way he had always been.

But now, circumstances made him feel that he should change. Just a little, perhaps.

Biting on his lower lip, Oliver raised his right hand. He had thought to give a tiny pat on the back--that's what people normally do... right? Intentions, however, are most of the time, quite different from the outcome. He pushed her.

Oliver hoped to Merlin that he could apparate somewhere, preferably Jupiter. But the good thing was that Arienne was looking at him now. And she wasn't mad--just a bit curious, but not mad.

Suddenly, he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach, almost like a balloon with all the air let out. It was the first time that Oliver Wood had been left breathless--and not by flying on his broom.

"Your eyes..." his whisper, barely audible.

"What about my eyes?" she asked, a tiny frown forming on her forehead. "You've seen them before, as you've seen other blue eyes, I'm thinking..."

Oliver shook his head. "No... they aren't so blue now... they're kind of... violet..."

"I've been crying, is all," Arienne stated simply with a tiny shrug of her shoulders. She was wiping the tears from her cheeks and eyes when she realized that Oliver was now staring at her. The look on his face suggested that he thought she would explode at any moment. She felt exasperated enough to actually want that to happen.

"I'm okay now, you know," she told him. "Honestly. I'm not going to blow up."

Oliver relaxed. Thank goodness... "So... what's up?"

Arienne could just stare.

"Real smooth, Oliver. I have to say those were the three most comforting words I have ever heard. I've been waiting for the whole entire day for someone to say those words, and now I feel great. Greater than I have felt my whole entire life!" To her great horrification, Arienne felt the tears as they splashed against her cheeks.

"But I thought you said..."

"I know what I said," Arienne whispered burying her face in her hands, yet again. "I don't want you to say anything. I don't need you to say anything. There aren't any words in the world, any... spell... that will bring my father back." A ragged sob was wrenched out of her before she could continue. "What about Alionna? On the day that she was born, our father was in the hospital. They've never seen each other--and they never will."

Before Oliver could even absorb what she said, Arienne had flung herself into his arms. Her tiny body, shuddering from her harsh sobs and he could feel a wet spot on his shirt increasing in size. This was very awkward indeed. Gingerly, he raised his hand again. Oliver was going to get this back-patting thing, even if it killed him.

"I'm such a bad daughter."

Oliver was shocked. "Arienne, don't say that." His lifted hand landed on his head and he scratched it in wonder. What else could he say? "You're a great daughter..." Oliver couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself.

"Do you know how long he was in the hospital?"

Six months, he thought grimly. The pride was now easing away. It was replaced by a dull ache, as if he were somehow connected to her and he could feel her pain.

"Six months!" She looked up at him then, her eyes now truly violet. "Six fucking months! And I couldn't even see him! I knew, Oliver. I knew that he was going to die. Even then... I had lost hope! To me... he died six months ago." Arienne bent her head again, her cheek pressed against his chest. "What kind of daughter thinks like that?"

Ever so gently, as if he were holding a brand-new broom, he laid his hand on her trembling back. Beneath his fingertips, he felt her momentarily stiffen before relaxing. "Things happen that you can't control. Even with magic. You can't escape death. It was your father's time and there was nothing you could do." He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face until she was looking at him eye to eye.

Oliver couldn't believe the things he was saying, never thought himself capable of such. "But you're here," he told her tenderly. "As much as you can't escape death, you can't escape life either..."

He couldn't go on. Arienne had pressed her lips against his own. Their first kiss... that thought had barely registered on his mind when Arienne's tongue slipped between his barely parted lips. And then he didn't think at all... couldn't think at all. He opened his mouth more, welcoming the gentle thrusting of her sweet tongue as it nudged against his playfully. But there was a sense of urgency--and they both felt it. It wasn't too long before clothes were shed and gasps were released and ecstasy was felt...

It was the day things changed all the more... the day they lost their virginity to each other.

That year, Oliver and Arienne entered their third year of Hogwarts. Oliver had his friends and quidditch and Arienne had... he didn't quite know. Things weren't quite the same as they were before. They could barely look each other in the eye. It was too complicated with every that had happened between them. Since then, they had begun to drift apart, and were now complete strangers. He probably wouldn't even be aware of Arienne if she were standing beside him. He didn't even realize that she standing in front of him, for heaven's sake.

Too much time had passed, and they were no longer a part of each other's lives. No more conversations, no more arguments, no more whacking each other's arm when someone said something totally idiotic...

Some friend he proved to be.

But it wasn't entirely his fault. It took two to tango, after all. Even though he was busy with quidditch, it wasn't like Arienne had ever approached him. That was a comforting thought... he wasn't the only one to blame.

"Right there, Oliver..."

Angelina's voice shook Oliver out of his stupor. He couldn't understand whom Angelina was pointing at. She seemed to be pointing at Cedric or at least the girl standing beside him. Oliver recognized her immediately as Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw fourth year and the seeker for her house team. He was also quick to notice Cho's arm. It was in a bandage due to an injury during the Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff match.

He had just barely thought of the implications of that when his attention was drawn to whom Cho was talking to.

It couldn't be...

Could it?

*****

Arienne tried to ignore the nagging feeling that someone was staring at her. But the feeling so intensified that the hair at the back of her neck started to stand. It was so eerie that she couldn't concentrate on what Cho was saying.

"Arienne?" Cho looked searchingly at her friend. "Is everything all right?"

Arienne flashed her an apologetic smile. "Yeah... at least, I think so." She pointed at Cho's bandaged arm. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you if you're fine?"

Arienne smiled when she saw Cho blush. She was there when the accident took place. Cho and Cedric, Arienne's cousin, were chasing after the golden snitch when, in effort to avoid a bludger, Cedric collided into Cho, his broom hitting Cho's arm. But the broken bones didn't stop her from eventually gaining the snitch.

Ironically enough, the accident brought the two quidditch players together. And Arienne couldn't be happier for the two of them.

"I'm all right," Cho assured her. "By the way, did you hear about the Yule Ball?"

Arienne knew that Cedric had wanted to ask Cho to the ball, but early that morning the Ball was canceled. Many students were already leaving for the holidays and weren't planning on coming back for the Ball, thus the school staff decided to cancel it. But rumors had been circulating that the Headmaster used the word "postponed." No one wanted to get their hopes up, however.

"Penny told me this morning in the common room," Arienne replied as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her tan leather jacket. "Marlena was so upset about the whole thing. Apparently she bought a new dress for the occasion and wanted to be able to 'use it at least once before it goes out of style.'"

Cho choked on a giggle at Arienne's perfect imitation of Marlena Saunders, a Ravenclaw sixth year. "Was it a nice dress? What color was it?"

"It was a nice dress." Arienne smiled when she added, "I told her that purple was a very nice color for the dress. She looked so terribly insulted at what I said. She told me that it wasn't purple. It was plum."

"I'll try to remember that when I see her." This time, Cho didn't hold back on the laughter.

Arienne was about to ask Cho about her plans for the holidays when she noticed her friend's eyes widen to the approximate of size of teacups and abrupt stop in her hilarity. She was about to turn to the direction of Cho's gaze when she felt Cho's uninjured hand clamp on her shoulder.

"Don't look now," she whispered to the bewildered Arienne. "But guess who's staring at you right this very moment."

"Staring?" Arienne repeated slowly. "At me?"

Cho nodded excitedly, a big grin on her pretty face.

Arienne shook her head in denial. She had a sinking feeling that she knew who it was and she hoped that she wasn't right. Fervently hoping...

It couldn't be...

"Oliver Wood!" Cho squealed.

"What?!"

If Cho was confused by Arienne's sudden outburst--she was really good at hiding it. "The Gryffindor quidditch captain?" She ventured slowly, as if uncertain. "The guy who practically eats, sleeps and breathes quidditch?"

"I know who he is..."

The problem was, she knew him too well. She wanted terribly to close her eyes from the anxiety creeping inside of her. But she didn't dare, for fear that if she did, she would remember all again. The first kiss that she had ever received--the first bliss that she had ever experienced.

Her first big mistake. Since then, Arienne had repeatedly scolded herself for what she did. It was her fault. But at that moment, everything seemed too surreal and Arienne wanted to feel alive. She wanted to be able to breathe again. She wanted Oliver...

What was wrong with her? She thought that she had gotten over her childish infatuation, her childhood fantasy that Oliver just might want her more than a friend. Love her, even. Later, she painfully realized that he loved quidditch and only liked her. Now, she wasn't sure if he still liked her. They were virtual strangers.

And it was all Arienne's doing. She was the one who avoided him like the plague. She was the one who insisted on eating with her back to him in the Great Hall. She was the one who always chose to sit in front of the classes they shared to refrain from seeing him. And it was all for the best.

Arienne knew what she wanted. She also knew what Oliver wanted. And they wanted different things. She wasn't stupid enough to push something she knew wouldn't work. But even that rationalizing didn't save her from hating all the girls who draped themselves all over him.

It hurt. But she couldn't help but look sometimes.

He probably doesn't even know who I am, Arienne viciously thought. Oh, Merlin, I hate quidditch... talk about ironic...

And she hated herself. She had long ago put away her dreams of someday marrying the boy she had grown up with, but somewhere in the depths of her heart, she knew that that's where she had hidden it. She hadn't completely thrown it away as she intended.

"Arienne?" It was obvious that Cho was still walking on eggshells. "Who did you think it was?"

"I thought..."

Arienne bit back a groan. Because the person whom she thought it was, was heading in her direction.