Oliver Wood and the Heritage Curse

Over the following week, Emma, Oliver and Katie spent all their time between Quidditch Practice and classes discussing the mystery. For Katie and Emma their time together was awkward, but they gradually bonded together as they realized that Oliver was completely oblivious. There wasn't much to do without Emma's parent's diaries, so they hashed and rehashed the only facts they had.

"It still comes down to Davies," Oliver said, burying his face in his arms on the table and coughing. Oliver had developed a violent cold. Although it was most likely a product of his time outside without a cloak, the Weasley twins found it a very funny coincidence that Emma had a cold too. When their teasing about how he may have obtained the cold from Emma was actually possible as truth, Oliver found it much harder to defend himself.

It was after dinner and a tough Quidditch practice for all three a week after Emma and Katie's talk. Oliver had talked to Cedric about why he had been practicing as a Keeper and found out that Cedric trained all his players in every position so they were better prepared. Oliver, always looking for new Quidditch tactics, fully took on Cedric's idea, much to the chagrin of the Gryffindor team. So Katie and Oliver were exhausted and drained from their stressful practice and Emma was fed up with dealing with Davies. All three were on the verge of giving up on solving the mystery.

Katie beat her head against the table while saying, "For the last time, Davies is okay. He's just hard to reach."

"Why do you always defend him?" Emma asked, climbing onto the table and stretching out on her back. She'd been reprimanded only two days before by Professor Sprout for the same thing, but was too tired to care.

Before Katie could defend herself and enormous barn owl flew through a window, staggering under the weight of a huge package. The owl dropped the parcel on Emma's stomach and left haughtily.

Emma gasped under the weight of the package and Katie quickly charmed it to float. Emma sat up and carefully guided the package back down to the table.

"This is it!" Emma exclaimed. "The diaries!"

For the first time in hours Oliver looked interested - not enthusiastic or alert, but interested at least. Katie helped Emma pull the strings off the package, letting the cloth fall open. Inside were two dozen thick leather volumes.

"Oh my word . . ." Oliver's mouth dropped open. "Your parents wrote all of this?"

Emma grinned. "Yes they did. My parents' romance was something special. These aren't just ordinary diaries - they're letters they wrote to each other bound into books.

"That's so romantic!" Katie squealed. She picked u p one of the books and flipped it open. "Except that there's no writing."

"Of course not, they're wizard journals. We have to figure out how to read them."

Oliver and Katie stared at her, shocked. Emma smiled and handed Oliver a diary. "Let's get to work."

Almost a month after the diaries first arrived, Katie limped back from Quidditch practice thinking that they were never going to figure them out. Oliver, still convinced that Cedric's training technique was brilliant, had kept Harry and Katie late at practice training as beaters and Katie was bruised in a million places. Her abused heart, however, kept her distracted from the painful marks left by savage bludgers. It wasn't just the fact that Oliver's affections were still doggedly attached to Emma, but the mystery itself tore at Katie's being. She had spent hours alone and with Emma and Oliver paging through the blank books, mind numb after classes, body throbbing from practice, eyes aching from the glaring diary pages. But worst of all were the visions.

As Katie sank down on her bed in the Gryffindor tower her tired eyes yielded to the pressure of sleep and she experienced another of the brief but troubling visions. Strong arms enveloped her and cradled her against a warm chest, a tender voice whispered caring words, her mouth met sweet, affectionate lips - and then she jolted awake.

Katie sighed as she glanced around her dormitory, one hand clutching her broom handle expectantly. It always ended there. She never saw a face or understood the voice or felt the kiss returned. She knew the vision was connected to the night she used the Intoxicating Charm, and she had a sick feeling that it was connected to Davies. Katie winced at the thought - that infernal captain with his obsessive cleanliness and gorgeous eyes and mysterious personality. He was leaking into her mind like poisonous gas. He has kissed me twice . . . Katie thought. But that doesn't explain it because I never kissed him back, she decided. She dropped her broom and fell backwards onto her bed. "I didn't ask for this," she muttered.

"Mmm?" Angelina replied from across the dark room.

"Nothing, go back to sleep," Katie whispered and a not-quite-awake Angelina did. Angelina was angry with Katie because she had been spending so much time with Oliver and Emma and wouldn't explain why. Just that morning Angelina had yelled at Katie about it and now Katie was even sorrier because she desperately needed someone to talk to.

I am not, not, not, falling for Davies because of some stupid vision, Katie determined, temporarily convinced. She felt behind her head, picking up the diary she had landed on when she fell backwards. She knew without looking at it that it was the plain black leather one with the broken lock. She set that diary on her stomach and reached back for another. This one was covered with music notes that played when whistled at. The next was deep blue, and another gold with the Hogwarts crest, and the last - Katie sat up rapidly, sending the four diaries on her stomach thudding to the floor. She felt around her bed frantically then leaned over the edge feeling across the cold floor. Panicked, Katie conjured a small flame of fire and searched the room as it hovered above her.

"What're you doing?" her roommate, Sarah, mumbled.

"I lost something," Katie told her.

"Okay." Sarah sighed and fell asleep again.

Katie knew the diary wasn't in the room. She ran out of the dormitory and clattered down the stairs to the common room.

Oliver, alone and still muddy and almost disgusting from practice (he could never really be disgusting), looked up startled as Katie fell down the last couple stairs into the room. He sat in a corner practicing plays with his mini-Quidditch set (Sammy Sosa had ousted Davies from the Ravenclaw team and the tiny Davies now skulked around the baseball field looking bitter and dejected. "Serves him right," Emma had said when he first got kicked off the team, but Katie still felt a strong desire to bring him up to her room).

"One of the diaries is missing," Katie exclaimed without even getting up from the floor where she had fallen.

Oliver's dark eyes flashed with a malice usually reserved for Slytherin Quidditch players. "Bloody hell. We're in trouble."

"How . . ?" Emma sputtered. "How could this happen?" She and Oliver, both cold-free for the first time since Emma's accident, were looking pale again.

Katie shook her head, a dead expression on her face as she slid into the seat across from Oliver. It was just before breakfast the next morning and the three of them sat conspicuously at the end of the Ravenclaw table. "I don't know. I hid them with a spell, no one should have found them . . ."

"Bloody hell," Emma muttered. The expression came more and more easily from all of them as the days passed. Emma's eyes darted down the almost empty table, nconsciously searching for Davies.

"He's not here," Katie said irritably. "For goodness' sake leave the poor guy alone."

Emma slammed her fist down on the table. "Poor guy! Do you know what I put up with at practice? He benches me for no apparent reason, he ignores me, he mocks my flying even though I'm as good as the rest of the team now - and he treats the rest of the team really well! I don't understand it. That guy is demon! Why am I cursed with him? Just tell me that and I will stop despising his existence!"

Luckily for Emma the Great Hall was almost empty. A few professors at the front of the hall appeared to have a debate over who should handle the situation, and although Professor McGonnagall was glaring it was Professor Lupin that turned up at the Ravenclaw table. He gave Emma a potion that she drank without even looking at and then disappeared. Katie and Oliver hardly noticed him. Oliver put his arm around Emma and Katie stared down at the table feeling defeated.

"Katie, I'm sorry," Emma said, much to the surprise of both Oliver and Katie. "I just don't know what to do anymore.

Katie nodded, knowing they were about to give up. Then, just like a month before when all had seemed lost, an owl staggered through the window bearing a large package.

"I know what this is!" Oliver exclaimed, leaning over Emma, his chin resting on her shoulder and one arm still wrapped snugly around her. Oliver sometimes seemed to forget that he and Emma were supposed to be just friends. Although she liked his cuddliness Emma tried to stop him when Katie was with them. This time, however, they were all too distracted to notice the placement of Oliver's arm.

Face glowing, Oliver squirmed excitedly as he watched Emma carefully unwrap the package. He pulled at the paper impatiently but Emma smacked his arm and he pulled away.

"This must be related to quidditch," Katie said, leaning over the table to watch the unveiling more closely. "Oliver turns into a two year-old when Quidditch equipment is involved."

Oliver stuck his tongue out at Katie but she only grinned. "I told you," she said gleefully.

Oliver, however, was distracted because Emma was now pulling something from inside the thick layers of wrapping. It was a long white box with a strange symbol imprinted on the top. The symbol was a serious of royal blue lines zig-zagging across each other in a pattern that seemed much to complicated for anyone to copy.

"What is that?" Katie asked.

Emma, dark eyes distant, shook her head rapidly and looked at Katie. "It's the symbol of my family's broom-maker - and also the symbol of traditions in my family. It's a long story." She ran her fingers over the lines, tracing them in a well-known pattern.

"Does that mean this is your new broom?" Oliver asked excitedly.

Emma nodded slowly. "Yes, it is. It's been four generations since we had a new broom in the family. The one with the spell was repaired numerous times, but no one ever even considered getting a new one. I wonder if that was because they knew it had special powers or because they simply though it was lucky or if it's really just about tradition." Emma seemed to be calmly wondering these things out loud but both Oliver and Katie were on alert since it was the type of situation where her temper normally would have flared. This time however she simply shrugged and sighed.

A question suddenly popped into Oliver's head as he watched Emma running her fingers over the symbol again. Why was she calm now? This has happened before, Oliver realized. There must be some reason but he couldn't figure out what it was.

"Well I suppose I should open it," Emma said and the nagging question slipped out of Oliver's mind.

Emma hesitantly pulled off the top of the box and lifted the broom out cautiously. It was very much like her first only perfectly smooth and straight. The royal blue symbol was etched on the bottom of the broom handle, almost too tiny to see, but that was the only marking. Emma turned it over and over in her hands, her face blank, and finally handed it to a fidgety Oliver.

"This is amazing," Oliver commented, carefully inspecting every part of the broom.

"I should give it to Professor Lupin," Emma replied. She took the broom back almost forcefully and dropped it in the box as if it were a rather large unwanted insect. "Who knows what spells or curses it might have."

"And Davies shouldn't see it," Katie added, surprising Oliver and Emma. Students now filled the Great Hall and many peered curiously at the long white box.

"We'll go talk to Professor Lupin now," Oliver said, standing up while he glanced around casually for Davies. There was no sign of the Ravenclaw captain (who had spent the night sleeping in the trophy room) and Oliver was relieved.

"No, I should go alone." Emma disentangled herself from the bench and Oliver, whose hands rested on her shoulders. "I will talk to you both later."

"Okay . . ." Oliver trailed off as Emma walked away. "What was that all about?" he asked Katie, but she only shrugged.

"You knew my parents, didn't you Professor?" Emma asked a few minutes later. She was in the Professor's office, sitting on the floor with both brooms lying before her. The first broom, though weathered and rough, obviously matched the new one.

"I knew your father well," Professor Lupin replied, pacing in front of the two brooms.

"And I knew your mother well in a different sense. Although I only met her a few times while I was at Hogwarts, your father never stopped talking about her. They care about you very much you know."

Emma traced the blue symbol again and again at a dizzying speed. "Did you know about the spell on my family's broom?" she questioned.

"I can honestly say that I didn't. Your father was a great Quidditch player, with or without that broom."

Emma, fingers shaking, ran her hand through her hair nervously. The tears will not come, the tears will not come, she repeated over and over trying to control the turmoil of emotions in her mind. "What did they tell you about me?" she asked then added slowly, "About my condition."

Professor Lupin knelt in front of her and set a potion bottle on the floor. "Only to give you this if you got particularly emotional. And I have, several times. But you've done very well this year. I think your friendships with Oliver Wood and Katie Bell have been a big help."

Emma smiled faintly. "They've been everything. But tell me this. How is it that I've been able to keep control around Roger Davies?"

"Cho Chang," the professor replied. "She's been slipping you this potion any way possible before and during practice."

Emma shook her head. "I understand now. But I think that I'll just take the potion on my own now. I can't deny anymore that I have a problem."

"Good for you." Professor Lupin carefully packed up the new broom and set it on his desk. "I will examine it thoroughly for you but I think that we'll find out it's fine."

"Thank you." Emma was half-way through the door when she turned around and said,

"By the way, do you have any hypotheses about what my condition is?"

Professor Lupin smiled looking a little embarrassed. "Yes actually, I think you might be part werewolf."

"Part werewolf," Emma said out loud to herself, struggling to stop the tears backed up behind her eyes from spilling over. Late in the afternoon, after wandering through her classes, she sat outside in a corner, shivering. Although she had a blanket wrapped tightly around her it was not enough to fight the cold and light snow.

"I'll be sick again," Emma mumbled. But there was nowhere else to go where she could be sure to be alone. Emma held a tiny glass bottle in one gloved-hand and with the other drew the family symbol with her finger on the cover of the diary in her lap. It was her favorite diary because it had a picture of her mother on the front. It was a muggle picture so her mother remained frozen, but she still smiled as if she could see Emma.

"Why did I shut you out?" Emma asked the picture, and suddenly the symbol formed on the cover of the journal, glaring brightly. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't I think of it before?"

She flipped open the book and traced the symbol on the first page. Tiny, neat words in deep red ink erupted onto the page.

"January 3 - I couldn't miss you more," Emma read. "What happened over vacation made me feel like it was safe to say those words to you." Emma read voraciously, turning page after page until the sun disappeared and she had to read by the light of her wand. It was the last of her mother's diaries, written while she was studying abroad in her last year of high school. Each letter described her adventures and studies and how much she missed Emma's father. When Emma finished the diary, she dropped the book on the ground, keeling over under the weight of her tears.

That was how Oliver found her after three hours of searching. When he gathered her tightly into his arms she pressed the glass bottle into his hand and, gasping, said "Make me drink this."

Oliver kissed her gently and when he pulled away her mouth was slightly open and he eased the contents of the bottle between her lips.

"Sorry," he told her when her eyes opened. "But it seemed like the best way."

"That's okay," Emma replied. "I didn't mind. But I need to tell you something."

Oliver was kissing her cold cheeks and nose but pulled away to look into her serious eyes. "You had me worried out of my mind. I didn't know what had happened with your broom yesterday or where you'd gone. Katie hadn't seen you all day. I talked to everyone and no one knew where you were. I care about you so much and all I could see was you crashing on your broom again or worse."

Emma pressed her fingers to his lips. "Don't. Please. It hasn't been long enough since I took the potion and you don't know what you're dealing with. You may not want to say those things after I explain it."

Oliver's eyes crinkled and his forehead tensed. "What is it? What is that potion?"

Emma took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I've never been particularly well-known around Hogwarts but it used to be because I was shy. Two years ago, however, I had this horrible temper tantrum when I was with my cousins in the summer. One of them made me angry and I yelled so loudly - it felt like an explosion in my body. I can't remember exactly what I did but my cousins were scared. My parents were worried because I had a few other similar episodes. They sent me to American doctors first and even a psychologist. When the doctors didn't find anything I started to see wizard authorities. Although they suggested a lot of things no one could say exactly what it was. I started to notice that when I got upset or overly emotional it felt like the emotion was magnified a hundred times. I would lie in bed for days because of the unbearable pain in my head. I didn't want to acknowledge my problem or for anyone to know, so last year I avoided people completely. So long as I didn't have contact with anyone my emotions stayed balanced and I didn't have to take anything. But then you came along. I knew a relationship would bring out the worst of my condition. But I liked being with you and you made me feel safe." Emma stopped suddenly, afraid to look at Oliver.

"I understand now," Oliver said, resting his face on the top of her head. "Professor Lupin, and why you ran away when I kissed you. I understand," he said again, and that was all for several moments. Emma sat frozen in his arms, breathing in and out carefully, until she was sure the potion was working.

"No one knows if it will get worse. And this potion works now but it might not always." She burrowed even closer to Oliver and he held her more tightly. "Professor Lupin says that I may be part werewolf and I am so scared. I don't want it to be something like that." She started to cry again, her body shaking uncontrollably.

"Whatever it is, I'm not going to abandon you," Oliver promised.

"I know," Emma replied. They sat for a long time until Emma stopped crying. "I don't want anyone to know about this," she said, picking up the little glass bottle lying on the ground.

"No, of course not."

Emma sighed. "I can just imagine ten thousand owls showing up with hate mail. I'd be kicked out of Hogwarts for sure."

"No, no," Oliver told her, taking the bottle from her hand and throwing it against the ground. Cushioned by snow, it didn't break, but it was quickly buried by the increasingly strong flurries. "Dumbledore would never let you be kicked out."

Emma didn't reply to this but said instead, "I don't think people should know about us either. It will be better for you that way. We'll just go on like we have been." She was mainly thinking of Katie, but also confused and unsure about this new turn in their relationship.

"Okay," Oliver said hesitantly. "I guess if you really think that would be best. But I'm not afraid of what could happen to me."

"I know," Emma replied. "But please just trust me about this."

"Of course." Oliver kissed the end of her nose and then scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to the hospital wing to sleep. After leaving her with a very aggravated Madam Pomfrey, he went to talk to Professor Lupin.

"It's a very unusual condition," the Professor told him. "I've been doing research ever since her parents told me a little bit about it. I can see in her a possible middle stage between normal human and werewolf. There have been a few cases of it before and they showed signs very similar to Emma's."

Oliver, who had been pacing back and forth while the professor spoke, now sank down on the edge of the professor's desk. This was insane. How could I have gone from such a straight-forward and uncomplicated life to this tumultuous existence in so short a time? he wondered. He knew though, that whatever he felt must be nothing compared to the horrifying degree of emotion that Emma felt.

"What happened in those other cases?" Oliver asked, not sure that he wanted to know.

Professor Lupin sighed deeply. "In one case the young woman became a full-fledged werewolf and lived a life much like I do. In another the young man had symptoms like Emma's for the rest of his life but lived quite happily. But there was one instance when a woman with these symptoms married and it didn't turn out well. One day she suddenly became a werewolf and her husband wasn't prepared. He was horribly wounded." The professor squeezed his eyes shut when he saw the flash of sorrow and terror on Oliver's face.

Oliver, who just a few months before had no real friends, now realized that he may have to put his life on the line for the girl he was falling in love with. His life had changed in overwhelming ways that he had never anticipated, and he could never go back again. "Well, we'll just have to solve the mystery first," he said out loud but to himself not the professor. Oliver jumped off the desk and marched towards the door without another word to Professor Lupin.

"Oliver!" the professor called after him. "Remember that we don't even know if Emma is part werewolf!" But Oliver was already gone. "It may just be the ramblings of a lonely man," Professor Lupin added quietly and picked up Emma's new broom. So far he hadn't found a single trace of curse or spell on the broom. "One lonely, lonely man," he said again.

Davies took the stolen diary to "his" bathroom late that night and huddled in a corner, shaking slightly from the cold as he flipped through the pages. He had known before he had stolen the diary how to unlock the words. Emma, Katie, and Oliver were not very subtle detectives and Davies had more information to work with than they did. So far, however, the diary hurt him more than it helped him. Reading Emma's parents' intense and romantic letters didn't make it easy to maintain his hatred towards them and their daughter.

Davies dropped the diary on the floor and shoved his fingers through his hair, disheveling the impeccably controlled curls. He dropped his forehead against his knees, trying to beat out the thoughts of Katie that warred against him. Whenever he stopped concentrating, even for a second, she was suddenly there. And what weapons she had to win this battle: that beautiful hair, those understanding eyes, and, most of all, that dedicated heart.

"It's such a terrible waste," he bemoaned to the poster of himself on the wall. His image nodded as if to say, "Yeah, that Wood's a moron," and Davies growled. He got up to look in the mirror so he could fix his tousled hair and the twenty-three pictures of him watched.

"Do you think you guys could do something useful for once?" Davies asked the photos and all twenty-three started combing their hair. Davies sighed. "Nevermind. I'll figure this out on my own."

He glanced around the bathroom, reading the graffiti his friends jokingly etched on the walls. "Davies is a stud," "I love you Roger Davies!" "Call me," and hundreds of other similar phrases crowded the stone surfaces. And suddenly Davies had an idea.

"No way! I am not that kind of guy!" he exclaimed, but the images of him were all nodding emphatically.

"No, no, no. Besides, Emma would never fall for it. She hates me. And she likes Wood. And if Wood found out . . . well, I could kick his butt so I don't have to worry about that. But still." The images stared at him intently, confirming his plan.

"And what about Katie?" Twenty-three blank expressions forcing him to acknowledge the truth. She didn't want him and he had no other choice.

"So I'm really sorry," Katie told Angelina, flopping down next to her friend in the dressing room before Quidditch practice the next afternoon. "Emma needed help - stuff about her broom - and that's why I've been hanging out with Oliver and her so much. But you're my best friend and I didn't mean to ignore you."

"Is Wood being any better to you?" Angelina asked, yanking on her knee-pads.

"Well I don't think you would think he was," Katie replied, forcing her hair into a messy braid.

"Let me do that," Angelina said, combing out Katie's hair and starting a new braid.

"How do you feel about him now?"

"I don't know." Katie picked at the mud on her shoes, trying to form the words to explain what she really wanted to say. "So, yeah, Roger Davies," was all that came out.

"What? Did you run into that wacko in a dark corridor again? What's his problem?"

Katie winced as Angelina, distracted by her comment about Davies, tugged her hair forcefully. "Well, there's a little more to it than that," Katie explained, bracing one hand against her head to protect her scalp from possible tugs.

"What are you talking about?" Angelina asked.

"Well . . . you remember that night about a month ago when I was . . . well no, I guess you wouldn't."

"I remember that night that you were acting really strangely. Is that what you're talking about?" Angelina asked.

"Probably. I can't remember it too well because I used and Intoxicating Charm."

Angelina dropped the braid and Katie's hair billowed over her shoulders. "Oh my word, I can't believe I didn't see it. Of course. That's why you were acting so silly. What happened? Did it hurt as much as they always tell you it does?" She sat down on the bench, facing Katie who was pushing her thick hair back over her shoulders.

"It hurts more than you want to know. But listen, that's not what's important. I think something may have happened with Davies that night but I can't remember it well."

Angelina's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean, something may have happened?"

Katie pressed her hand against her forehead and peered through her fingers at Angelina.

"I think I may have kissed him. Several times."

Angelina stared at her, completely dumbstruck. Finally she said slowly, "Can we start over? It's just not registering. Did you say that you kissed Roger Davies?"

"I think I kissed him," Katie corrected her. "But I'm absolutely positive that he kissed me. Not that night, but twice before." She explained about the two kisses and the visions she kept having since the night she used the Intoxicating Charm. Angelina slowly shook her head through the entire explanation.

"I cannot believe that you didn't tell me about all of this before," Angelina said when Katie finished.

Katie sighed. "I was trying to ignore the kisses just like I always tried to block out those encounters with him. You were the one that suggested I should do that. And I kept hoping that one day I'd wake up and I'd realize that the visions were not what actually happened and that I wasn't getting a crush on Roger Davies."

"Who has a crush on Roger Davies?" someone asked from the doorway and a startled Katie hurtled an elbow-pad at the intruder.

Angelina fell off the bench, laughing uncontrollably, while a stunned Alicia stood frozen in the doorway, the elbow-pad at her feet.

"The whole world has a crush on Roger Davies!" Katie yelled. Angelina controlled her laughter and climbed back onto the bench. Alicia, still baffled, walked slowly across the room and sat on Katie's other side, while she babbled about Davies. "All those high-and-mighty sixth years with their crushes on him would run away if they were ever trapped against the wall by his arm. They couldn't handle being that close to him - his smell invading their senses, his eyes driving into them, his lips just inches from theirs'. The whole world has a crush on Roger Davies but no one really wants him."

Alicia peered at Angelina hoping for some explanation but Angelina only shrugged.

"Are you feeling okay?" Alicia asked Katie.

"I feel like some little evil creature is inside of me mixing up the pieces of my heart and brain so that I can't think with either one. I've spent four and a half years hoping Oliver would suddenly notice me. It seemed to make sense - patient shy girl gets the guy in the end. And now Davies. I'm falling for a guy who looks like a pirate - a darn sexy pirate, but a pirate nonetheless - and who I only know from mysterious encounters in dark corridors. What does that say about me?" Katie looked first at Angelina who was trying not to laugh again and then at Alicia who looked even more confused.

"I don't really know what's going on," Alicia said, "but I do know that you don't have any obligation to pursue Oliver."

Angelina nodded. "Alicia is right. And it doesn't say anything about you except that you're normal. Put aside your feelings for a moment and think carefully about the two guys. Whom would you more like to be with? Which guy is better for you? What do you like about each of them? Think about those sorts of things and maybe you can get your mind and your heart sorted out again."

"And after you do that," Alicia added, "please tell me what is going on!"

Near the end of practice, the three chasers and Harry floated on their brooms just above several inches of snow while Oliver worked with the Weasley Twins. Katie watched Oliver intently, but Alicia drifted closer to Angelina and whispered, "What's a pirate?"

Angelina laughed. "You'll learn about it in Muggle Studies later this year, when you read Treasure Island. When you do, ask your class if they think Roger Davies looks like a pirate. Last year the vote was unanimous."

"You're right," Harry commented. "He does look like a pirate. I think it's the earrings. Pirates are supposed to be scruffy though and I don't think Davies would ever look like he'd been out at sea for weeks."

"But he's intimidating. And he must be dirty sometimes. Like after Quidditch practice or a game," Angelina suggested, but none of them could ever remember Davies being the slightest bit dirty.

"You should ask Emma about it," Angelina said to Katie, but Katie didn't respond. She examined Oliver's serious handsome face as he talked emphatically to the Weasley twins, his voice stern but his accent enchanting, and hints of his captivating smile reflected in the crinkles around his eyes. Attentiveness and concern intensified his eyes, echoes of something drastically different in his countenance than four months before.

"He's older," Katie whispered. Not just older, she realized, but mature. A change that left Katie behind. Katie felt intense pressure behind her eyes and gasped, the flood of tears restrained for the moment. Oliver sent the Weasley twins back to the ground and returned to the rest of the team, his eyes narrowing slightly when he caught Katie's gaze.

"You lot are done for the day," he said. "But I need to talk to you for a minute, Katie."

Katie nodded slowly, afraid the tears would come if she had to be with him alone. She drifted the few feet to the ground with the others, heart pounding in her head.

"Oliver, do you think Roger Davies looks like a pirate?" Angelina asked, jumping off her broom. A low rumble began in Oliver's chest and Angelina quickly held up her hands saying "Nevermind, forget I asked." She left with Harry and Alicia, waving at Katie over her shoulder. Katie watched them leave, wishing she was with them.

"He does look like a pirate and has the same personality," Oliver commented to Katie.

Katie winced and some of her nervousness melted away, replaced by defensiveness. "What did you want to talk to me about?" she asked sharply.

"Are you doing okay?" Oliver asked, touching her shoulder.

"I'm fine," Katie replied hesitantly, staring down at the bright snow to avoid looking in his eyes. She blinked rapidly several times and barred the tears for another moment.

"There was something in your face . . ." he explained, taking his hand awkwardly off her shoulder. "I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciate your help this year. You have level-headedness and stability that neither Emma nor I have and it was you that kept us on track. I know that you didn't really choose to get involved in this but I'm really glad you did."

Katie, focused on the impending tears and overwhelmed by the pulsing in her head, almost couldn't hear him. "I am not what you think I am," she stuttered as the first tear slipped down her cheek. "How I wanted you. I've done nothing but hope that you would want me and now all I wish is that I could walk away from this unharmed. Walk away and start over." She spoke calmly, tears streaming down her face as steadily as snowflakes gathered on her hair and cloak. Cavernous silence followed Katie's confession, worsened by the deadness of winter. Katie felt like her voice had been sucked out into the universe with the rest of the sounds, and although she longed to take back her words she could only stand frozen like an ice sculpture.

Finally, nervously brushing the snowflakes out of his hair, Oliver slowly said, "I had no idea. I can't believe I was such an idiot. I'm so sorry."

Hearing his stricken voice, Katie snapped out of her frozen state, roughly rubbing the tears from her face. His face was constricted, weighted by stress, and it scared her. "It doesn't matter now. You didn't try to do anything. I don't want things to be awkward. I said it because I wanted it to be out in the open so I could move on. Emma knows about it and I don't want to inhibit your relationship anymore. I care about you both too much and I can't do this to myself for another day."

Oliver pulled Katie into a tight hug, startling her. "I don't even know what to say. You give so much of yourself and you really deserve to have somebody giving back for once."

"Thank you," Katie replied sincerely, straining to free herself from his embrace. "This is really not a good idea. The number of people who could see you hugging me and start a rumor or be very hurt or want to beat you up is pretty high."

Oliver quickly released her. "Sorry, you're right. These last few days have just been so stressful. I didn't know what I was doing."

"It's okay." Katie searched around the Quidditch pitch, certain that someone would appear at any moment. It didn't matter who it was, the consequences would be horrible. There were a hundred complications involved if simply Davies happened to be there. But Katie saw no one and there was no one watching. "You should get back to Emma."

"Oh, that reminds me. She wants to meet with us later tonight. She said that she found out something very important."

"Great. I will catch up with you after dinner."

"You're not going back now?" Oliver asked. He looked much calmer now, staring at the castle longingly, obviously wanting to be with Emma.

"I have some thinking to do," she answered.

"Okay. We'll talk more later." Oliver smiled at her, then mounted his broom and sailed off towards Hogwarts.

Katie fell backwards into the snow, weighted by her Quidditch uniform and heavy cloak. She felt free and contently saturated by her crush on Davies. Oliver still owned a part of her, but she would slowly win herself back.