Chapter Twelve: Operation Obliterating Oliver (Part 2)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the HP universe. I do own the plot (of this story) though.

Notes: Thank you all for the reviews! 42 is a wonderful number – the answer to Life, the Universe and Everything. WARNING: this is a very short chapter.

Recap:

"Oliver Wood's here!"

I snapped my head back so fast I sprained my nose (exaggeration, really). And there he was, that bloody stupid prat / git / cad, strolling down the stands like he owned the Pitch. No one noticed him coming down, since they were all juniors (and hence hadn't seen him much before he left), except for Ron and Hermione, who greeted him.

I did. I noticed how his hair had grown out a bit. I saw how his nose had been sunburnt and how his elbows had been scratched due to Quidditch and skiing respectively. And I realized, in horror, that he was heading straight for me.

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I'm ashamed to say, I bolted. Braid flailing behind me, broomstick still in hand, I ran full-tilt towards the Gryffindor changing rooms. And it didn't take any superhero listening powers or any of the Weasley twins' contraptions to hear Oliver yelling my name from across the Pitch.

Needless to say, everyone heard and saw him charging towards poor old me.

"Get out of the way or I'll hex you to oblivion!" I snarled at some third-years as I pelted towards the rooms. "I mean it!" Merlin, those third-years were slow movers.

"Katie! Katie… BELL! Get your butt over here and stop running!"

Oh grow up, Oliver. Use the word 'ass' already. Or 'arse', it doesn't matter which you prefer.

The changing room loomed ahead and I headed straight for the safety it promised. I desperately tried to remember the old password.

"Uh... Firebolt? Snitch? Quaffle? McGonagall's knickers?" I pounded on the door in frustration and fell head-first onto the side of the nearest locker. "Bloody frogs!"

The door creaked back on its hinges and locked itself as I rubbed my scalp. My broom had apparently survived the metallic crash (a miracle!) and lay on the dusty floor next to me. Filch hadn't bothered to clean the rooms, it seemed.

"Katie? You in there?" Oliver's muffled voice wafted through the wooden planks.

I groaned. The bump on my head was throbbing. I crossed my fingers and toes. Hopefully, he hadn't heard me say the password.

"McGonagall's knickers."

No such luck; my voice had probably traveled all the way to said Professor's office.

Oliver stepped in and barely missed trudging on my broom. I glared at him. The sunlight hurt my eyes.

"What the hell happened?" He shut the door on the onlookers and crouched down beside me. I noticed that his Scottish accent had roughened. Focus, Katie.

"I ran into the damned locker." Crossing my arms, I winced as he tentatively poked the bump on my forehead.

"Nice bump."

"Thanks."

"Now," he said as he planted his arse on the bench closest to me, "what was that?"

"What was what?"

"The running. And also the, ah, mountain of unanswered mail I've sent you that's probably in your room right now?" He gave me the Pep-Talk Look again and my eyes rolled of their own accord.

"I didn't want to talk to you! You didn't tell me you were bloody getting engaged. I had to torture it out of Alicia! Three years of bloody correspondence and friendship and you don't tell me about your engagement? That's not fair!" I burst out in anger, probably spraying saliva all over him. He asked for it.

Oliver was surprised at my sudden outburst. "What? Alicia told you?"

I was nonplussed. "Yeah, why?"

He snorted, sounding like a horse that had crossbred with a pig. "Because I specifically told her not to."

Deadly silence ensued. Deadly, not dead. My eyes narrowed as I asked him for an explanation. I swear to Merlin's bleached toenails, my eyes could have rivaled Snape's at that moment.

"I wanted to tell you in person," he sighed, taking my hand. Oh mydear Merlin's yellow palm tree-patterned Bermuda shorts…

I squeaked the word 'why' out of my mouth.

"I want you to be our bridesmaid."

Chapter Twelve ends here. It's short, I know, but I wanted to get a taste of your responses to this. Part 3 of OOO will be up as soon as I get some reviews.

Cheers,

nothingville.