Author's Note: I didn't realize that the previous chapter was number ten, so HURRAY WE DID IT! WOO. To celebrate, I've written a three-part Christmas special, who doesn't love Christmas in August...(?)

Thanks for the reviews and hits so far! Enjoy the story :D

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own nor do I profit off anything of the Harry Potter universe that rightfully belong to the amazing J.K. Rowling.

Venom of a Snake

Either war is obsolete or men are

It's been a couple of weeks since the nude run fiasco, or what students now called "The Slytherin Strip". When I finally made it to the Common Room, I found Adrian fully clothed sitting on the couch casually talking to Julie. I never understood how that boy was able to get away with bloody murder.

Miles on the other hand, was a completely different story. Apparently when everyone was escaping from the Astronomy Tower he to tried to make a run for it. But it wasn't too hard for McGonogall to track someone in their birthday suit down.

He said it was the most awkward moment of his life when she dragged him by the ear and threw him into Professor Snape's office. He only made things worse for himself when he decided to sit down in Snape's chair because he was exhausted from all the running.

He said it really damaged him and Minerva's 'relationship'. But at least he'll get to spend some quality time with her in his six month detention. I've noticed in Potions that Snape can no longer look Miles in the eye.

And where was I during all this chaos? Stuck in a room with Wood. But obviously I never told them that.

Because of the famous Slytherin Strip that was the constant talk of the school, it had lifted a lot of the embarrassment from the last Quidditch game. Of course Prat-chard would laugh in my face every single chance she got. I still hadn't spoken to Flint. Merlin, the sick twisted barbaric inhuman things I had installed for him next practice. Since it was now Christmas holidays Quidditch training was off, since most of the students went home for the holidays including myself.

I was immensely joyous to be back home on the wealthy Parker estate. I missed my bedrooms, especially the one I called "Audrey's Haven", since it had the best view of rest the estate. On the balcony I could see the beautiful gardens covered in a layer of snow being tended by the gardeners and the sparkling crystal pool. I walked back into my room that was decorated with olive green and silver drapes and satin king size covers for my four poster bed. Whoever said money can't bring happiness just obviously didn't know how to spend it right.

I checked that I had everything needed, packed and zipped up my bags. It's the first time in four years since I spent Christmas at home because every year my parents were awfully busy with work. The two both came very prominent prestigious families. My dad was a Curse-Breaker who would constantly be back and forth from Egypt and England.

And mum inherited her family's Owl Post Office and Christmas was the busiest time of the year, with Christmas letters and presents that needed delivery and what not, so she too was constantly busy. Rather an odd couple the two were since my father was more of a thrill seeker whereas my mother was conservative. But somehow, they made it work.

Because it's been years that we all shared Christmas, my parents decided we all go on a trip to celebrate. I was hoping for a tropical Christmas like Hawaii, Fiji or somewhere in the Caribbean. But somewhere like the Greek Islands would also do as fine.

The house elves took my bags and followed me down the marble staircase, through the lobby into the living room. My parents stood by the fire place, seemingly giddy about our trip. My mother analyzed me from head to toe, probably wondering if my long beige pants tucked into my brown leather laced up boots and white button up collared shirt was appropriate for the Caribbean.

"Don't you think you should put on a coat?" She asked.

I see what she was planning. Merlin, they were bad at surprises. They might as well just tell me where I was going to spend my Christmas. I imagined myself on a tropical beach, gently rocking in a banana hammock watching the soothing waves crash upon the shore whilst I sip out of a coconut. I let out a little giggle and grabbed my turquoise coat from the coat rack in the corner.

"So which is it? Hawaii or Fiji?" I asked.

"Not telling," Mother sung in a gleeful tune.

The elves had disappeared, apparating our bags to the hotel we were staying at. It was a pity though that I only just got home no less then two hours ago and have to already leave. But then I remembered I was going to a tropical island. Hell yeah, screw home.

I walked out into the back yard with my parents to an old lamp that was created into a Portkey. We all took hold and launched up into the sky, spinning hysterically around like a tree caught in a hurricane. I clenched my eyelids shut to avoid getting dizzy. Soon enough, I landed on the ground with a heavy thud.

I rolled onto ground, tumbling onto the floor landing on my rear end that now ached. I tried to prevent myself from gagging, I was never good with transportation. I felt the moist ground beneath me and opened my eyes to see nothing but infinite hills of grass. I brushed myself off of dirt and twigs, slightly irritated by the annoying aftermaths of Portkey transportation.

But that didn't matter because I was in... somebody else's back yard?

I stood up and looked around. I gasped looking up to see a grey clouded, dull sky.

"This isn't the Greek Islands!" I cried.

"Surprise!" My parents chorused.

I whipped my head around to the quaint two story house, disenchanted by my parents to see them standing next to two strangers and-. GOOD MOTHER OF MERLIN NO.

"I believe attend school with Oliver Wood dear," Mother grinned, lost in her own carefree optimism.

Both of our eyes nearly popped out of our skulls, staring at each other in utter horror. We'd only just saw each other leave the train station no less than two hours ago. This had to be a nightmare. This was a nightmare.

The adults blatantly watched us two with fat grins on their faces, whilst we thought of the monstrosity of the situation.

Merry bloody Christmas.

Where was my tropical paradise?

Where was my banana hammock?

Where was my damn coconut?

Instead I was given wintry Scotland and a bloody cretin.

"These are Oliver's parents," dad introduced.

Mr Wood was a sturdy tall man with brown hair that had a few grey roots and blue eyes. Mrs Wood was a petite woman with auburn hair and chestnut eyes, Wood looked very much like her.

"I've been working with his father for years now and we've always thought of doing something like this," dad informed.

Out of all the friends he had at work, he had to be best friends with the man who fathered Wood.

"It's very nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Wood," I greeted courteously, giving them both a small bow with my head.

"No need for that formality here dear," Mr Wood smiled, he had a deep voice and had an even thicker Scottish accent then Wood's. "We've actually known you since you were a toddler, but you probably don't remember us."

"Why what a fine young lady you've grown into!" Mrs Wood exclaimed and embraced me into a back crunching hug. She too had the traditional Scottish accent like the rest of the family. "Oliver don't be so rude and just stand there! Come give Audrey a hug."

Wood and I both stood in front of each other, exchanging glances of horror. Before I could do anything, a wild black beast leaped and tackled me onto ground. A slobbery wet tongue licked my entire face.

"Bad boy! Get off!" Wood ordered, pulling it away by the collar.

The dog was massive and looked a lot similar to the one the Gamekeeper - Hagrid, had. I menacingly stared at the dog's slaggy face, where strings of spit hung from it's mouth.

"Sorry 'bout that, Wrinkles can't help himself sometimes," Wood apologized, but I could tell by the look on his face he was trying hard not to laugh.

"He's a big dog," my mother said.

"Actually he was the runt of his litter," Wood replied.

"I can see why," I grumbled, heaving myself off the ground. "Excuse me, but could I please use your bathroom," I asked.

I needed to get all this dog slobber off of me badly.

"Upstairs and two doors down your left. Oliver take her bags and show her where her room is," Mrs Wood insisted.

The house was much smaller then mine, probably because it was only two story and well, not a mansion. It was a decent size for the family of three. I followed Wood into the lobby as both our parents chattered away. I was still in shock of the whole ordeal that I had to pinch myself to check. It hurt. It really hurt.

I've never seen Wood in casual attire, since he'd always wear either his Quidditch robes or school uniform but he dressed exactly how I imagined. Wearing a plain white t-shirt and loose fitted jeans which I judged as being lazy.

"How many bags did you bring?" He asked, looking at the brown bags by the umbrella rack.

"Those are my parents," I pointed out. "Those are mine," I said blatantly, nodding him into direction of the staircase where about over ten bags sat.

"That's that's twice as much as your parents brought," He scoffed dubiously. "Are you planning on staying or moving in?"

"Trust me, I want to do neither," I said sadistically.

I marched half way up the staircase, waiting impatiently for Wood to haul up my bags. He struggled to lug the first one up the stairs, carelessly bumping it hard against every step.

"Careful!" I scowled. "This will probably be the only time you'll ever get close to the most expensive thing you've handled in your life. But that's unless you don't end up as a bell boy," I scolded crudely.

"Your parents are nice," He said, trying to heave up the bag up a step.

"I know," I groused, rolling my eyes to the ceiling.

"Makes me wonder how they gave birth to the anti-christ," He mumbled incoherently, making another loud bang with my bag.

I was too irritated over how my luggage was being handled to care for his immature insults. For a Quidditch player, he didn't seem all that fit as he should be.

"I SAID careful!" I snapped.

"I don't see you helping! Did you pack bricks in here?" He asked.

"Don't you have house elves to do this sort of stuff?" I asked in bewilderment.

"No, my parents don't believe in slavery," He answered.

"Oh, you're one of those peope. It doesn't count if they like it."

"Besides, they never thought they'd have a guest with bags weighing two bloody hundred kilograms."

"They probably expected their son to a bit more stronger," I replied, displaying a small gape between my index finger and thumb.

"Well why don't you just carry your own damn luggage?" He protested stubbornly, coming to a halt on the middle of the staircase and folding his arms.

"I would just hate to offend your mother's hostess capability by lifting my own bags when she already offered someone else to do the job," I said pretending to sound empathetic

With a reluctant grouchy sigh, he picked up the bag once again, grumbling gibberish incoherently. Once we reached the top of the stairs, he led me down the left hallway. As we past a few doors, I couldn't help but stick my head in the room that was covered in Quidditch posters of famous players. Someone was obviously a big fan of Puddlemere United.

I heard Wood clear his throat from behind.

"May I help you with something?" He asked lewdly.

"Oh, just looking," I hummed candidly.

"As you can see, this is my room," He said.

"And that your Puddlemere partisan," I replied.

"Of course. They are the best team in the league," He pointed coarsely, like I was some sort of idiot.

"PFFT," I spat like a child. "Everybody knows the Falmouth Falcons kick ass," I scoffed with enthusiasm.

"Trust you to favor that team. They're the most violent team in the league," He jeered.

"That's because they're not full with a bunch of pansies like Puddlemere," I exclaimed.

"What did you say?" He said in a low and dangerous tone, narrowing his eyes sharply.

"Did I stutter?" I snarled, matching the intensity of his eyes with mine.

"That teams full of lousy cheaters!" He bellowed.

"Just cause we kicked your ass in '86-!"

"-Right after we kicked yours in '85-!"

"-Oh please! Everybody knows Benjy Williams was totally out of the boundary lines-!"

"-He was just lucky he didn't get hit by the Broadmoor brothers-!"

"-There Beater skills are legendary-!"

"-By legendary you mean bloody psychotic!"

"They've got guts compared to those Puddlemere pansies!"

He shot me a dark look, one that I hard never seen before.

"I dare you to repeat that," He tested menacingly.

"Pud-dle-mere pansies!" I baited.

His face turned into the matching color of his House. He looked like he was a brewing kettle ready to burst, or more like a volcano about to erupt. Sure, I shouldn't of egged him on so much and I'd probably regret it, but it was totally worth it to see a show like this.

"Is everything alright up there?" Mrs Wood called out from the bottom of the staircase.

Wood snapped out of his psychotic schizophrenic out burst, returning to the tanned face he had before and replied, "Yes mum!"

He dragged my bag further down the hallway and carelessly tossed it into an open room.

"This is your room," He said candidly.

"What did I say about handling my bags?" I scowled, rushing into the room to check my bag for any damages.

It appeared that I was only two room down from his.

"Look, I'm going to simple and straightforward now. This is my house meaning your in my territory. I don't like you and you don't like me - fine. I only ask that you respect it and me, since it looks like we're stuck with each other for the rest of the Christmas holidays I'm willing to offer you a truce," He declared.

"A truce?" I repeated impudently.

"Yes, where we both put our differences aside and try to behave more civilized," He stated.

I thought about it for a moment. It sounded like the most reasonable thing to do, but something was holding me back. My honor. I couldn't risk showing weakness in front of the enemy, even for only a little bit. I wasn't even suppose to be here! I felt like I was stuck on a deserted island and not even a tropical island either. I was stuck in sodding Scotland with sodding Wood. For once in my life, I was desperately dying to be back at school already.

"Where are my coconuts?" I out bursted like a madman.

He stared blankly at me, blinking only twice. He's probably thinking that there lost with my marbles. I quickly cleared my throat and placed my hand on my hip.

"Truce?" I scoffed. "Never. Now fetch the rest of my things before I grow anymore impatient," I ordered churlishly, whipping my hair around.

"I thought you'd say something like that. Which is why I prepared an offer you couldn't refuse," He smirked, crossing his arms leaning against the doorway.

I turned around and I could tell he was feeling deviously smug by the way he was trying to act cool. I let out cackle of amusement.

"That being?" I chortled.

"If you don't agree to a truce, I'll tell all your friends where you spent your Christmas holidays," He smiled smugly.

My eyes widened in horror imagining the damage it would do to my social life. I would be the laughing stock of the Slytherin House and everyone would think I've gotten chummy with the enemy. Adrian, Miles and Julie would disown me as a friend in a heart beat.

"You wouldn't dare," I gasped dramatically.

"That's the thing - I would," He smiled. "I'd simply tell one of my friends and wait until it spread around the whole school. I would make it humiliating as possible for you. I'd wave to you from across the Great Hall during lunch time, save you a seat in classes and tell you that my mother sends you her regards every day."

"You have no shame do you?" I questioned.

"Not at all," He answered.

With the last ounce of dignity I had left, I mustered the strength to step forward and offer my hand.

"But this is only a temporary truce," I outlined clearly. "Meaning as soon as we get back to school, we pretend that his dreadful ordeal never happened."

"Of course," He agreed.

He slapped his hand with mine, shaking it vigorously. I could feel a spark of intensity rise up my arm like electricity and quickly withdrew my hand. Before sending me one last smirk, he left for the rest of my things and I explored my room. I found a door and opened it, leading me into a bathroom. Looking around, I noticed that the toilet seat was up. I poked my head out of the corrider to see Wood come up the stairs with another bag.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat and pointed my finger at him, signalling him to come.

He rolled his eyes and followed.

"What?" He spat, standing at the door way.

Without even speaking, I pointed at the toilet.

"If I'm expected to stay here, then you're expected to show some bathroom etiquette," I said.

He let an irritated sigh and slammed the seat down.

"Happy your majesty?" He asked sarcastically.

"Somewhat content," I replied.

After all the bags had been taken to it's rooms, Wood and I went back down stairs to find our parents laughing in the living room over a glass of red wine. The room was decorated with oatmeal floral wall paper with matching coffee drapes. Furnished with old maroon leather couches that had colorful crocheted blankets draped over. It was thoroughly decorated with persian rugs. Small ornaments of dwarfs and lovable animals such as ducks, puppies and kittens were found on every table. All I could hear was the endless ticking of about ten cuckoo clocks that all ticked a different time.

"How adorable!" Mum exclaimed.

Mrs Wood noticed our presence and hastily grabbed my arm, squishing on the couch in between my parents.

"Come take a look at our Ollie when he was a baby!" She cheerfully.

Ollie? Baby photos? Maybe this stay wouldn't be as bad as I thought.

"Mum is it really necessary?" Wood asked hastily.

I could sense the panic in his voice and smiled deviously.

"What? I want to show her what I handsome boy you were," she said innocently.

I lightly chuckled at the word 'were'. Even his own mum thinks he's ugly now.

My mother flicked through the photos of the album and stopped at a page filled with pictures of a toddler. It was the younger version of Wood where he was running around joyously. In one them, he wore a red cape holding a broomstick twice his height, posing like a superhero.

"I remember those days!" Mrs Wood reminisced, pointing at the current photo I was looking at. "He would spend hours in the backyard pretending to play Quidditch with his imaginary friend Brutus."

"Mum!" Wood hissed.

"What? Everyone has an imaginary friend at that age!" She explained.

"How precious," I grinned, sending him a sadistic smile.

"You had an imaginary friend once too Audrey?" Mrs Wood asked.

"Well I don't ever recall having one," I smirked.

"That's because you were too busy eating half the time," dad laughed, giving Mr Wood a high five for his joke.

You see, my dad thought he was hilariously funny with his cheesy jokes. Let's just hope he doesn't whip out his famous camel joke.

"Look, here's a photo of my Audrey when she was younger," dad said, pulling out a photograph from his wallet. My eyes bulged out of my sockets as I looked in horror. "Chubby one she was," He said, showing Mr Wood.

"Dad!" I cried.

"Aw, you were our little pumpkin," mum cooed, kissing my forehead.

"Little?" Dad scoffed and I gaped my mouth feeling higly offended. "Take a look for yourself," He said, handing over the photo to Mrs Wood and her son.

"Dad no!" I begged, launching on top of him to stop.

But Mrs Wood already grabbed the photo, talking about how cute I was whilst Wood's cheeks inflated, turning red as he tried to contain his laughter. I burnt holes through him with my eyes, but it didn't scare him the least bit.

When I was younger, I had a bit of baby fat - like every other child. Okay maybe not a bit, maybe quite a lot.

"That girl couldn't keep her hands off the Chocolate Frogs," dad continued.

I shot him a glare, but he was too busy laughing about my weight problem to Mr Wood.

"To the point where we started to get worried. So we started getting her into Quidditch to lose the weight and now she's the fittest we've ever seen her!" Mum said, giving me a tight squeeze.

"Breakfast was the most important meal of the day for her. And obviously lunch and dinner too," Father joked again.

Deep down I was fuming with rage. Is it bad to want to hex your father?

"I know what you mean," Mrs Wood empathized with my mother. "When Ollie was born, the Healers said he had the most remarkable size head for his age."

It wasn't until now that I noticed "Ollie" did have quite an abnormally large head in comparison to his body. His face had turned from cheeky amusement to sour.

"I'll show you a photo of him in the bath tub," Mrs Wood insisted.

I grinned maliciously from ear to ear and Wood quickly jumped in front of his mother.

"Didn't you tell me this morning that you had to go grocery shopping?" He asked hastily.

"Oh right," she remembered. "Such a good boy I have!" She exclaimed with puckered lips, pinching his cheeks. "Audrey, would you mind helping us with the shopping?"

"No problem," I answered, standing up and walking over to the fireplace.

"Oh no, we're taking the car dear," she said, walking to the front door.

"Car?" I repeated, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.

I followed Mrs Wood and her son out the front door onto there front yard. The two both approached large oddly shaped piece of metal, that rested upon four wheels. I remember Professor Quirrell showed us a few slides of these in Muggle Studies once.

"Oh, an au-to-mo-bile," I said profoundly.

Wood gave me a strange look and nodded his head.

"Mum's a Muggle born and she likes stay true to her Muggle roots," He explained.

He held out the door and I slid onto the leather seat. After slamming the door shut, he entered through the other side.

"Don't forget to do up your seat belts," Mrs Wood reminded, fidgeting with a small mirror that hung from the roof in front of her.

Seat belts? I never knew how dangerous these automobiles were for it to have belts, even the train never had belts. It took me a while to find where the seat belts where and figure out how to buckle them. The car began to reverse out of the drive way and onto the seat.

A big difference between muggles and wizards, was that out transportation was fast. This "automobile" however, was dreadfully slow. I felt light headed and dizzy. Looking out through the window only made me feel more queazy.

"You're green Audrey, you must get car sick easily. Ollie, roll down her window will you?" His mother asked.

Wood leaned towards me, reaching his hand out to me. I instantly slapped it away.

"Keep your hands to yourself," I snapped, shooting him a deadly glance.

He rolled his eyes to the roof.

"I'm trying to give you some fresh air," he sighed.

"Right," I cleared my throat and allowed him to roll down my window.

Once we arrived at the shops, one by one, we hopped out of the car towards the entrance. I had never been to a Muggle supermarket before and the whole concept of electric doors opening when a person stood in front of them baffled me.

"Come on, hurry up," Wood said, because I wouldn't move from the doorway.

"To make things quicker I've divided the shopping list, you and Audrey go together," his mother said, handing him a list.

"I'll teach you a few things about Muggle grocery stores, this is what you call a 'trolley'," he said, pulling out a trolley from the wall.

"I know what a trolley is twat, they have them at the train station," I said bitterly, with my arms crossed and a unamused expression on my face.

"Look, you're already learning," he boyishly grinned and pushed the trolley down an aisle.

Light music and out of rhythm beeps rang in my ears. I craned my neck, curiously mystified by the abundance of cans and boxes. Everything appeared so brightly colored my eyes needed to adjust.

Soon after, I grew incredibly bored waiting for Wood taking ten minutes to pick something off the shelf every three steps, repeating the same time consuming process. I was bored out of my bloody mind, I was growing insane. I rubbed my face muscles to keep them awake and active.

"Are we done yet?" I groaned. "I'm already tired of standing up."

"Then wait in here for the mean time," he said nonchalantly, patting the trolley but keeping his eyes remained on the shopping list.

I let out a long and heavy sigh to show how miserably bored I was, but he took no notice as he walked over to the opposite shelf. Hesitantly, I walked over beside the trolley and knitted my eyebrows down together, confused how I was going to approach this.

For a while, I awkwardly lifted my legs and arms without doing anything with them, trying to figure out a way to get in . I finally swung a leg over into the trolley, gripping the sides and lifted my body off the ground.

By the time I realized the trolley was tipping, it was too late for me to let go. I ended up falling hard on my back with the trolley collapsing over me, with half my body still in it. Wood turned around and rushed over to me. I didn't even bother to attempt to get up, I was too lazy and in pain.

"Careful," he said, getting ready to pick me up.

"Don't!" I snapped, slapping his hand away. "Touch me, I can get up by myself, thank you very much."

He held up his hands defensively and stood up. I threw the trolley off me and lifted it up straight along with my body.

"Here," he said, holding down the trolley for me to get in safely.

After climbing in, I brought my knees up to my chin and sat with a pout on my face.

"Haven't you ever been grocery shopping before?" He asked.

"No, we have servants to do that," I answered, staring down the long and daunting aisle.

"Of course," he mumbled, as he searched for something on one of the shelves.

I picked up a few cans from one of the shelves, reading the colorfully decorated labels.

"Why do Muggles feel the need to package everything in a can?" I asked.

"It's more efficient for them," he answered.

"Beans in can. Corn in a can. Chicken in a can? Ew," I grimaced, carelessly letting the can fall to the ground.

Wood snatched the can off the ground and shoved it into my face.

"You're acting like a child! You can't just walk in here and do whatever you like," he scowled, stacking the can back onto the shelf.

"It's not like I had much of a choice," I sulked, folding my arms over my chest. "I'm suppose to be on the back of a jet ski with a cute foreign guy who hardly knows any English, making him all the more cuter. This place is soooooooo boring," I whined, slinging my arms over the railings, pretending to be dead.

"You want fun? Fine," Wood said, he shoved the list into the front pocket of his jeans.

Gripping both hands on the handle bar, he pushed with light jog that gradually turned into a sprint. He spun it around a couple time and it became just as nauseating as the Portkey and car ride here. The childish side of me escaped and I couldn't help but laugh and throw my hands up in the air. I shifted around to face him and he stared back down at me with a sincere smile.

"Supermarkets can be fun," I said. "You're not so bad once you get that broomstick out of your ass Oliver."

I slammed my mouth shut as if I had just said a bad word to my parents. Did I just call Wood - Oliver? He stared at me dumbfound, gaping his mouth like a fish.

"Keep your eyes forward!" I ordered, quickly changing the subject to end the awkwardness.

He looked back up and his eyes widened. I turned back around and realized we were about to crash into tower of cereal boxes. I shielded my head with my arms. The trolley came to an abrupt halt, launching me forward and I felt the boxes bounce off my head.

I shoved the boxes aside and popped my head up for air, meeting the unhappy glares of Wood's mother and a store clerk.

Wood's mother dropped us both back to their house after we were kicked out of the store. As soon as we got through the door, I ran up to my room and didn't come out until dinner. I was trying to avoid Wood as much as possible after that small mishap of words. Obviously it was an "all-in-the-moment" kind of thing, but I didn't want Wood thinking that we were actually friends.

At the dinner table, I kept my head down low and silent at all times. I could feel his stare burning the top of my head, but I did my best to ignore it.

"We've got a traditional Scottish meal for you," Mr. Wood exclaimed, as Mrs Wood planted a plate packed with food.

"Smells delicious," my mother said.

"Well, my wife is famous for her amazing haggis," Mr. Wood replied.

"Oh, stop it," Mrs. Wood giggled.

"And what's haggis?" Dad asked.

"Sheep stomach," Mr. Wood answered.

"Pardon, what-what was that?" Dad stammered.

"You've never had Haggis before, eh? It's made with the finest sheep heart, liver and lungs," Mr. Wood explained.

I darted my eyes at dad, who was smiling wearily. I picked at the food and tried to eat around the... sheep parts. It's not that I was trying to offend Mrs. Wood or anything, she was a great cook - she knew how to boil the hell out the vegetables, but I couldn't bring myself to eat the haggis.

My dad and I were the last two at the table, only a clump of haggis on our plates. Mum was in the kitchen helping the Woods clean up. Both dad and I exchanged glances.

I noticed Wrinkles casually walk into the room. I called him over as quietly as I could, reluctantly patting the dog to stay. I hated animals, particularly this one. But at this moment, he was useful to me. I picked up my plate and allowed the dog to eat off it. Soon enough, the plate was wiped clean.

"I taught you better Audrey," Dad expressed disappointment.

We both quietened down to hear someone coming. Dad suddenly picked up his plate and switched it with mine.

"That's cheating!" I hissed.

Merlin, he could be a bloody baby sometimes.

"Audrey dear, you've barely touched your meal," Mr. Wood said.

"Just... savoring every moment," I said, picking a fork full of haggis and drawing it near my mouth.

"That was delicious!" Dad exclaimed, over exaggerating with his belly rubbing.

I stared at him coldly and furiously. Then a sadistic smile creeped upon my lips. I picked up dad's plate and handed it to Mr. Wood.

"Dad's too embarrassed to ask for seconds," I smiled innocently.

"Lucky for you, we have plenty left over," Mr. Wood grinned at dad.

"You do?" Dad said, dropping his face and his hand.

Mr. Wood nodded and headed back into the kitchen.

"I don't know where I went wrong with you," he said bitterly, sending me glares.

"Here Wrinkles," I whispered and called him over once more.

Once the plate was empty, I took no chances this time and walked to the kitchen, just as Mr. Wood was bringing dad a fresh plate full of haggis. As I walked back out of the kitchen, I saw dad sitting all by himself staring sadly down at the food.

"Enjoy your meal," I smirked and went upstairs.

Reaching the top of the staircase, I found Wood standing in the hallway. I pretended not to see him as I walked past into my room.

"Hey, about today-," he began.

I completely ignored him and slammed the door in his face. That was a whole can of worms I did not, under any circumstance, want to open.

I rolled over uncomfortably in my bed. My eyes flickered opened to the clock on the bed side table, it was three o'clock in the morning. I was caught between my heavenly comfort and my bursting bladder. Reluctantly, I sat up and wearily made my way to the bathroom.

I didn't want to awaken myself completely so when I got back to my bed it would be easy to fall back asleep. Incredibly tired and half asleep, I flickered the blinding light on and stumbled over to the toilet - barely noticing the items I had wiped off the sink to retain my balance.

"What the-?" I mumbled.

I fell into the toilet.

A certain twat must have forgotten to put the seat down.

Extremely pissed off and sleep deprived I howled, "WOOD!"

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A silence broke out in between us, as we were too busy gazing up at the stars. We both turned and glanced at each other at the same time. I followed his eyes up to the ceiling to find a small branch of mistletoe hanging right above our heads. Our eyes met again and both snapped to opposite sides like two positive ends of a magnet meeting, looking away meekly.

I am not, under any circumstance, snogging Oli-WOOD, I mean Wood. I'd rather be struck by lightening.

"Haha, mistletoe," Wood laughed inwardly.

"I know right, so stupid," I replied.

"Like we would ever-,"

"-not in a million years."

"Even if we were the last people on earth-,"

"-it would never happen."

"It's just plain wrong."

"Reprehensible."

"Completely."

It quickly fell into a deep silence once again.

"Mum told me it was bad luck if two people didn't, you know, under the mistletoe," I laughed, thinking the best way to end the awkwardness was with a fun fact - the more you know.

"Really?" He asked.

We both laughed and turned to each other.

"We wouldn't want that to happen..." he said.

Was he trying to-? Before I could think straight, my mouth was already moving.

"That would be terrible for the Quidditch season," I blurted out.

"Do you think we should? Incase?" He asked.

"I-I don't think it could hurt," I stammered.

I looked into his starry chestnut eyes and immediately felt the heat rush to my cheeks. The more we leaned in closer, the heavier his breathing got as they gently brushed against my lips. My heart was thumping so hard, I heard the sound of a drum beat in my ears. Our lips were only an inch apart, both hesitating to move any closer.