The Last of the Mhyrriad

CHAPTER THE SEVENTH

Many Happy Returns

"Happy Birthday, gorgeous." Oliver woke to a long, passionate kiss. He reached around her waist, and pulled his 'assailant' down to him. She had already dressed. Untucking her shirttails, he slid a hand under it.

"Not now."

" 'Rise, it's my birthday," he teased as he smiled impishly. She kissed his neck, then his ear, then said, "I know. And that's why you have to open presents." She led him over to the couch, in front of which was a pile of wrapped boxes. She sat behind him, wrapped her legs and arms around his stomach and chest, and then rested her chin on his shoulder.

"Open mine last." He proceeded to carefully unwrap the first box and neatly fold the paper into a square.

"Oh, give it here." She chucked it into the fire.

"Honestly, 'Rise. So patient."

"You shut up." As a new set of Quidditch robes, and enchanted Quaffle for practice, and other presents piled up, a long thin golden box appeared.

"That's from me." Untying the scarlet ribbon (which Cerise then tied around his head) he turned around and said,

"You didn't just take the dress robes you gave me back and wrap them up again, did you?"

"Don't be silly. And leave that ribbon on." Oliver lifted the cover of the box to find the most spectacular broom he had ever seen. It was long and lithe, with a s-curve to the stick, and the entire thing was covered in a thin layer of frosted gold. Up by the handgrips at the top, swirling black letters read:

Firebird 3X

Oliver thought he had never seen a finer broom in his life. It was lighter than a feather and the aerodynamics was superb. His awe was interrupted by Cerise's clear voice saying,

"The Firebird 3X. Of American make. The best broom on the market, though not very well known."

"Flashy. I thought American brooms were built for distance, not for speed."

"This one has both. Only the industry types are just sturdy. And the gold is to reflect tampering."

"Cerise - I can't take this. I mean, it's too valuable."

"Don't be silly. I want you to have it. Besides, it'll be a good two years before these babies get on the market." At a suspicious look, she shrugged.

"I know the maker... connections." Oliver started again, but stopped at the look on her face, knowing that he wouldn't win this one.

"Thank you. I love it, it's beautiful. You're beautiful."

"So are you, Oliver Wood." He turned around then pulled her down on the couch with him and kissed her.

"Happy Birthday," she whispered against his mouth.

"I think I like this present best."

"Hm?"

"You. The best present. By Merlin, Cerise, I love you." He kissed her again as the snow danced outside.

Oliver scanned the staff table for Cerise as he sat down for lunch. Fleur noticed his searching eyes from across the table, and giggled, tossing her white-blonde hair.

"She ees not 'ere." Oliver stared.

"Well... where is she then?" Fleur shrugged.

"I do not know. I theenk she ees coming later. She has some, euh, work to take care of. Also, you 'ave a ribbon on your 'ead." Quickly, he ripped it off before anyone else noticed, but it seemed as though the entire table was already snickering. As he craned his neck to the side, still searching, Fleur giggled even harder.

"Really, what's this all about?" He was getting annoyed. Severus Snape, to his great displeasure, took Cerise's usual seat. In a low mutter, he said,

"Good God, Wood, if you're having rendezvous with her, that's one thing, even if it is against school policy. But advertising it..." He glanced at the right of his neck, then stood up and left, leaving Oliver even more bewildered and annoyed than before. Oliver noticed funny stares all throughout lunch. On the way to his classroom, he was affronted by Fleur, who was thankfully much more relaxed than she was at lunch.

" 'Ere." She handed him a small mirror and tilted it so he could see his neck. Right below his earlobe was a large purple blotch, surrounded by Cerise's trademark scarlet lipstick.

"And 'oo gave eet to you?" Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement and anticipation.

"Erm..."

"Oh, Gosh, did I do that?" Cerise's head was strained to see her handiwork. Fleur's jaw dropped in mock astonishment, though Oliver didn't pick up on the sarcastic manner.

"You? You and 'im? Ah, but you realize zat you are breaking about five 'undred rules, no? Does Dumblydorr know? Ees zat why you 'have adjoining bedroo -"

"Fleur, you can't tell anyone!" A mischievous smirk appeared as she rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't planning to. But be assured, I zeenk ze school ees aware already." And with a flip of her hair, she strode towards the Great Hall.

Oliver stood there for a few moments, open-mouthed, then heard a hysterical laughter from behind him. He twirled around to see Cerise doubled over, tears running down her face.

"What do you think is so funny? We could both be sacked for this!" Attempting to catch her breath, she gasped,

"Merlin, Oliver, you're so uptight." Frustrated, he went and leaned against a door. Cerise had finally managed to stop laughing, but was still was having difficulty breathing. She crossed the hallway and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing he body against his.

" 'Rise! We're right in the middle of the hallway!" He felt her left hand move, and the door suddenly opened behind him as she pushed him into a dark classroom. She kicked the door closed.

"Better?"

Oliver ran into his classroom to see the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff fourth years sitting in their seats. As he lectured the class on Dark Objects, he noticed Harry looking at him, rubbing the side of his own cheek. Absentmindedly, he rubbed the same spot on his, then noticed a red stain on his fingertip. Damn her lipstick! Turning to the chalkboard, her pointed his want at his face and said "Deletrius." Turning back to his class, Harry gave him the thumbs up.

"Alright. So the Headmaster would like me to inform you that the Christmas Ball is to be held in exactly one month from today, December 25^th. Now, only fourth years and above, you may invite a younger student. A Hogsmeade weekend will also occur next weekend so you may pick up any... er... last minute items and such. Lost me so far? Questions? Lavender?"

"Who are you going with?" As soon as she said this, she clapped a hand over her mouth, giggling. Regretting it even as he said it, Oliver replied,

"Er... if you must know, Cerise. Miss Volcane that is." Lavender giggled even harder. Now Parvati's hand shot up. He called on her.

"Do you like her? Like, really like her? Because Padma said..." To Oliver's great relief, the bell rang as her last word was said.

"Have a nice day!" He laughed, quite relieved not to find out what Padma said as the shuffled out of the room, Parvati looking severely disappointed, Lavender still giggling.