Misperception by Equinox Chick
Summary: Because Angelina Weasley had an irritating tendency to match-make, Oliver Wood had made excuses the last few times he'd been invited to to one of her parties. But after the revelations in the Daily Prophet about his personal life, he rather hoped he'd be safe this year.

But he'd reckoned without her determination that everyone needs some festive joy at Christmas.

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, despite the spaghetti bologneise.

Thank you very much to Natalie (hestiajones) for beta'ing this and for being supportive. Thanks also to my flist who have put up with a lot of wangst from me recently. Thanks also to Maple for an interesting point she made in an SBBC discussion about Oliver ...

This is Equinox Chick from Hufflepuff , writing for the Great Hall-iday Challenge - prompt 3 Operation:Mistletoe.

IT WON!!!!!!!!!!

Due to an extremely prudish glitch affecting the boards, stories rated 6th-7th or Professors cannot be read, at the moment. For this reason I have temporarily lowered the rating, although this is really 6th-7th. You have been warned.
Categories: Other Pairing Characters: None
Warnings: Mild Profanity, Sexual Situations
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 9127 Read: 2280 Published: 12/21/11 Updated: 12/21/11

1. Misperception. by Equinox Chick

Misperception. by Equinox Chick
As the snow fell, the man stood with his thick cloak wrapped firmly around him, outside the gate of the house. Hearing several voices already rich with Christmas spirit singing loudly from the well-lit house, he felt again the strong need to turn sharply and Apparate away. But something made him hesitate. This was the fourth time he’d been invited to their house. The first three times he’d cited work pressures as the reason he couldn’t attend, but no one, absolutely no one, would believe he had to work tomorrow - not on Christmas Day.

With a sigh, he pushed open the gate and approached the door, his heavy steps leaving footprints in the dusting of snow on the gravel path. And then, before he had the chance to run away, the door sprang open and a flurry of small children ran out of the house.

–It’s snowing!” the tallest boy cried, and charged off the other way towards what the man presumed was the back garden.

With the door wide open, he walked into the bright hallway and peered around for a familiar face.

–Are you invited?” a shill little voice said. Looking down, he saw a small hand tugging on his cloak. A girl was glaring up at him. Probably about four, she looked as fierce as any Beater he’d ever faced.

–I am,” he murmured and grinned at her, resisting the urge to ruffle the dark curls framing her not-so-angelic face.

Clearly that wasn’t good enough because she scowled at him and placed her hands on her hips, an action so reminiscent of her mother that he had to bite his lip hard not to laugh.

–You must be Roseanne,” he said, and held out his hand. –I’m-”

–Roxanne!” she corrected sharply.

He apologised and then crouched down to her level. –Your mum and dad invited me. Are they around?”

–No idea,” she replied, seemingly losing interest in him as she hopped across to the door.

–You’ll need a cloak if you want to play in the snow,” he cautioned.

–I’m not going anywhere,” she replied. –My mummy and daddy know a very famous person and he’s coming tonight.”

–Who’s that then?” he asked idly as he prepared to take off his cloak.

–Oliver Wood,” she replied. –The Keeper for Puddlemere. Daddy said he knew him from school.” She turned towards the man and rolled her eyes. –Daddy even said he used to play with him at Hogwarts, but sometimes my daddy tells big fibs.”

–He did, and your mum, too.” The man grinned at her, crouched down and held out his hand. –I’m Oliver Wood. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Roxanne Weasley.”

Expecting a giggle or a grin, he was totally floored when she shot him a withering look. –I may only be five, but I’m not stupid. Oliver Wood wears Quidditch robes and rides a broomstick.” She looked him up and down. –And his hair’s longer. And you have don’t have a beard.”

Oliver smiled ruefully and rubbed his bare face. With the Christmas break, he’d shaved off his trademark stubble that he grew in the week before for luck. –Not a fan of my new look, then,” he said, and sighed. –And I’m sorry, but I only wear my Puddlemere robes when I’m playing.”

She narrowed her eyes, and he could see he hadn’t convinced her. –How many saves did you make last week against the Harpies?”

He considered carefully. –Well, I saved three from Flo Baldwin, four from Jill Fellows, and two from the new player but there was ...” He frowned, noting with grim pleasure that she was watching him astutely. She might be young, but she obviously thought she could trap him. –Okay, there was another save, but I’m not sure it was actually down to me, because the Quaffle rebounded off a Bludger and straight into my arms.”

Her brown eyes widened incredulously. –You really are him, aren’t you?”

–Uh...” He made a show of looking into the hall mirror, ruffling his hair and grimacing at the spikes his barber had gelled into his hair. –I think so.”

Roxanne gulped and then she took his hand. –Are you really going to move to Chudley Cannons? Only, my Uncle Ron swears it’s true, and ...” her face fell. –I don’t want to support the Cannons, and I asked Father Christmas for Puddlemere robes for Christmas, but if you leave ...”She trailed off and he could see her bottom lip trembling.

–Your Uncle Ron has a strange sense of humour,” he whispered and squeezed her hand. –I’m not going anywhere, Roxanne. Puddlemere are my team, I’ll be flying for them until ...” He stopped. His usual answer when asked this question by the press was ‘I get sick of the splinters in my arse from sitting on my broom.’, but he didn’t think Angelina would appreciate his language. –...Until they throw me on the scrap heap,” he amended.

Smiling beatifically, Roxanne stood up, still holding his hand and said, –I have a scrapbook upstairs in my bedroom. Would you like to see it?”

–I’d love to, but I think I’m expected at your parents’ party.”

–Too right he is. Roxy, stop monopolising our guest.” Oliver looked up to see George grinning at him. –Glad you could make it, mate. Angelina thought you were going to cry off again.”

Pulling a face, Oliver stood up and relinquished Roxanne’s hand as he stepped towards George. –She’s not going to try to fix me up with her sister, is she?” he muttered.

George chuckled. –Ah, is that why you’ve been avoiding us? Good Godric, Oliver, you should have just told us instead of blabbing to the Prophet.”

–Just thought it was about time I set the record straight.” Oliver smiled, a shade ruefully.

There was a pause. Oliver looked down at his feet, wondering if George felt uncomfortable- or even worse had felt obliged to invite him since the revelations about his sexuality in the Prophet. Yet, when he looked up, George was still grinning, the frank expression in his eyes warm and disarming.

–Come and get a drink, Oliver. Ron and I have had a bloody good year in the shop, so we’ve splashed out. Finest Firewhisky, Champagne or some rather expensive plonk.” He paused and then switched his attention to Roxanne, who was staring up at the pair of them. –Roxy, why don’t you wrap yourself up warm and go and play with the others. I’m sure Oliver will look at your scrapbook later, and if you’re lucky, he might even sign that poster you have in your room.”

–Sure,” Oliver agreed and flashed a smile at Roxanne. For a second she looked mutinous, but as he winked at her, she smiled again and pulled her cloak off the banister.

George chuckled indulgently as they watched her go. –I swear her first word was Quidditch.”

–Then what - Beater or Chaser?” Oliver queried. –Which one of you does she want to follow?”

–Neither. Rox is determined to be a Keeper. I just hope she doesn’t inherit my height. She’ll be gutted if she has to be Seeker,” replied George as he ushered Oliver towards the lounge. –Okay, we have a bar set up on the table, and all the food is laid out in the kitchen. You know most of the people here, but shout if you want an intro. There’re one or two wizards dying to meet you ...” George winked at him and then laughed at Oliver’s pained expression. –Kidding, I promise you. I’m not my wife!”

–Good,” Oliver growled. But as he looked around the room, his heart sank. There was a wizard in the corner, listening to Ginny Potter, who gave him a very definitely ‘look’. Grabbing a Butterbeer from the counter, he avoided looking their way, and instead wandered over to where Harry was chatting with Hermione. Both looked pleased to see him, Hermione going so far as to kiss him on the cheek, whilst Harry chinked his glass to Oliver’s bottle and asked him about England’s chances in January’s international.

–It’ll be tough,” Oliver replied. –The Bulgarians always play very well, but Krum’s injured, so we have a chance, at least. Is Ginny covering the match?”

–Yep,” Harry said, grimacing. –Leaving me in charge of the kids.”

–You love spending time with them,” Hermione retorted, –and you’ll no doubt do what Ron does and leave them with Molly during the day.”

Harry shook his head. –Not this time. I promised Ginny I’d actually take the days off.”

–Can’t you all come to the match?” Oliver suggested. –I could get you tickets?”

–Tickets aren’t the problem. Three very excited kids harassing their mother while she tries to work is, however. Plus, I’m still on call, just staying at home.”

–Well, anytime, Harry. I always have comps.” He meant it sincerely; he had no one to give his tickets to - not now.

–Oliver!”

He turned to see who was hailing him from across the room. Bearing down on him holding a glass in one hand was his hostess. She was, he could see, in roaring spirits and had a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

–Angelina, thank you for inviting me,” he said as he bent down to kiss her. –I had a great chat with your daughter on the stairs. She reminds me a lot of you.”

–Oh, she’s your biggest fan, Oliver,” Angelina replied, –but not your only one.” She frowned slightly at him. –Didn’t George show you where the proper drinks are?”

–Yeah, don’t worry,” Oliver began to say, but he was too late. Angelina had whipped his Butterbeer away and was summoning a bottle of Firewhisky and a glass for him.

–Top up, Harry,” she offered, and refilled his glass when he nodded. –And you, Hermione?”

Hermione shook her head and sipped at her almost full glass of wine. Looking closely at Angelina, Oliver realised she was already tipsy, and wouldn’t listen to his objections. He accepted the shot of Firewhisky and raised it to his lips, pretending to take a sip.

–That’s better,” Angelina said and smiled at him. –You don’t have a game tomorrow and training has closed for the winter break. So you, my brooding Keeper, are going to loosen up and enjoy yourself for once.”

–I am enjoying myself,” he protested, but now Angelina had taken his arm and was leading him away to another room. He turned his head back and mouthed ‘sorry’ to Harry and Hermione, but they were drifting off to talk to other people.

–Well, I’m going to make sure you have a really good time,” Angelina said, giggling at him. –Now, I do realise what a horrendous mistake it was when I kept trying to fix you up with Chantelle - my sister is gutted, by the way, but at least she knows it’s not her fault -”

–Angelina, I -” he tried to interrupt. But Angelina wasn’t listening. The grip on his arm tightened and, with all the force of a Bludger, she propelled him forwards.

–Oliver Wood, you spent years at Hogwarts telling me what to do.”

–I was your captain, I was supposed to -”

She waved away his words, her lips curving into a smile. –Now, I’m going to tell you what to do.” She stopped walking, bringing him to an abrupt halt at the door of the room. –You need some fun, Oliver,” she murmured. –You need to stop thinking that Quidditch is the answer to everything. You need ...” She smiled at him. –A distraction.”

–Oh, Merlin,” he groaned. –What have you got in mind?”

–You’ll see,” she said lightly and loosened her grip slightly.

–Angelina ...”

–Oliver, just go with the flow, will you? Open up a little and you might find you enjoy yourself.” Then she cocked her head to the side and smiled wanly. –Listen to your Auntie Angelina. Living only for Quidditch is not going to do you a damn thing when it all comes crashing down.” He grunted something unintelligible; she sighed at him. –Don’t look at me like that. I’m not expecting you to meet the love of your life tonight, but give yourself a chance, okay? It’s Christmas, Oliver. Everyone should have fun at Christmas.”

She stopped speaking and steered him towards another room. Inside this room, a far cosier and more family- friendly room with a Christmas tree by the window and a roaring fire in the hearth, there were more people. Some he recognised. Lee was talking to Alicia, and the former Ravenclaw captain, Roger Davies, now playing for the Kestrals, was chatting up an intense-looking witch sporting an elaborate hairstyle. Hoping for a chat with Lee and Alicia, Oliver was thwarted when Angelina halted by the window and introduced him to an immaculately dressed wizard with smooth glossy blonde hair tied back in a black bow.

–Oliver, this is Jerome. He has just started working at Quality Quidditch Supplies as a broom designer. So that’s two things you have in common.”

–What...” Oliver looked askance as Angelina gabbled away to the man in French, then smiled at them both. –Bonne chance and have fun,” she said, and slipped away.

–You’re French, then?” Oliver said.

–Corsican,” the man replied in flawless English, with only the merest hint of an accent. –But I ‘ave lived here for a few years now and my mother is English.”

–Do you know George and Angelina well?”Oliver asked, awkwardly making small talk. He tried not to stare at the man, but his eyes were a curious pale shade of blue that were both intriguing and faintly disturbing.

–A leetle,” Jerome replied. –Angelina came into the shop to buy two brooms for her children.” He leaned closer to Oliver, whispering scornfully, –Children’s brooms are not my area of expertise, you understand, but I ‘ave to help out in the shop.”

–What is your area of expertise?” Oliver asked.

Jerome shrugged. –I like to design racing brooms. Probably not your thing at all.”

–I appreciate the sport,” Oliver replied, –but give me a good balanced Quidditch broom and I’m happy.”

–That is an entirely different specification,” Jerome insisted. He raised his glass to his lips and took a slow steady sip, his pale eyes never leaving Oliver’s face. –I could design something for you, Oliver. It would be so sleek you would barely feel you were flying at all.”

–But I play Keeper, so a racing broom would not suit me,” Oliver replied.

–It does not ‘ave to be for Quidditch,” Jerome said and smirked up at him. –For fun, perhaps?”

Oliver looked away, not really liking the predatory glimmer in Jerome’s eyes, and found himself watching Roger who was now touching the witch lightly on the hand and laughing at something. She edged back slightly and didn’t join in the laughter.

–You don’t like fun, then, Oliver?” Jerome murmured.

Oliver dragged himself back to the conversation. –I like to feel the currents as I ride the wind, that’s all.” He shrugged. –I find that fun, I suppose.”

–Is it always about Quidditch for you?” Jerome asked. –Zat sounds ... limiting.”

–So people say,” Oliver replied politely. He was feeling hot now and rued his decision to wear his blue sweater with no shirt underneath. –Merlin, I could do with a drink.”

–You already ‘ave one,” Jerome pointed out.

–Yeah, it’s Firewhisky, though, and I don’t like the stuff.” Placing the glass on the window ledge, he took a step away. –Nice chatting to you, Jerome. Maybe see you -”

–Non, I need a refill, too, so I shall accompany you to the bar.”

Damn! –Sure,” Oliver replied. He wondered whether to offer to get the guy a drink, but that would mean he’d have to return. At least if they walked into the other room together there was a strong chance he could find some other people to talk to. Or Jerome would find someone else to bore.

As they headed towards the door, Jerome placed a hand on Oliver’s shoulder blade. Perhaps the gesture was a friendly one. Perhaps Jerome was merely guiding him through the melée of people, but to Oliver it felt intrusive. He lurched sideways and into the back of the woman talking to Roger, propelling her forwards and sending her drink crashing into Roger’s rather lurid shirt.

–Oh My Salazar! Can’t you bloody look where you’re going?” she spat and whipped around to face him.

Close up, despite the fury on her face, the witch was attractive in an intriguing way, her black velvet dress emphasizing her slimness. Not that he noticed that sort of thing, he told himself, but her eyes - also blue - flashed ice whereas Jerome’s were insipid.

–Sorry,” he muttered, then turned to Roger. –Mate, I was clumsy. Look, I’m sure George has a spare shirt somewhere. Why don’t I go and find one, and then you can get changed.”

–Trying to get my clothes off, are we, Wood?” Roger replied, smiling nastily. –Won’t work. I’m one hundred percent man.”

Oliver flinched as if he’d been hexed. Before the interview with the Prophet, he’d liked Roger. They played for different teams, and Roger was not in Oliver’s league talent-wise, but they’d always got on when they’d bumped into each other, sharing reminiscences about school, or anecdotes about other players.

–I haven’t suddenly sprouted tits and a -” He stopped himself from uttering the profanity in front of the witch, but inside he could feel his stomach churning with rage. Leaning forwards, he fixed a sneer on his face and slowly perused Roger, looking him up and down. –Had better, seen worse, Davies. Don’t worry, you’re very, very safe from me.”

There was a silence. Roger began to splutter something and stepped right up to Oliver, who stood firm using his height and bulk to his advantage. Aware this spat was now the focus for the room, Oliver was loathe to give ground, but did not want this turning into a fight.

–That told you,” Roger’s companion said briskly. Taking out her wand, she siphoned off the rest of the wine, and calmly cast a drying spell. –Your shirt isn’t totally ruined, which is a shame as it really is ghastly. But perhaps you should run along and find a clean one.” Then, as Roger left the room, she turned to Oliver. –I hope you’re not that clumsy in the air, Mr Wood. You never seemed to be at Hogwarts.”

Creasing his brow, he tried to place her but was coming up blank. –Sorry, do we know each other?”

–I was in Potter’s year,” she replied smoothly. –But I never played Quidditch and I was a Slytherin, so I very much doubt I’d have caught your attention.”

–Zis is all very interesting,” Jerome interrupted. He tugged on Oliver’s arm, drawing him towards the door. –But I thought we were going to get a drink.”

–Ah, sorry to have disturbed you. I had no idea,” she replied, and turned away.

–No, I’ll fetch you a drink, Miss ... uh ... sorry, I really don’t know who you are. The only Slytherin girl I remember from that year is Parkinson, and I know you’re not her.”

She smiled at him and held out her hand. –No, I’m certainly not. It’s Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, and I’d love Butterbeer.”

–Not more wine, then?” he queried, gesturing to her empty glass.

–No, that was fruit punch, but it wasn’t very nice. Non-alcoholic drinks are always too sweet, I find.”

–Oliver,” Jerome drawled. –I am thirsty.”

–Don’t let me keep you then,” Oliver replied. He was aware he sounded rude, but good Godric the man was a bore and Oliver really didn’t want to spend more time with him.

–How ungallant, of you,” Daphne remarked in a whisper. A sly grin appeared on her face as she watched Jerome flounce off. –Was that a lover’s tiff?”

–Merlin, no!” Oliver said, raising his eyebrows. –Angelina introduced us. She always used to devise these awkward nights out when her sister would be the lone witch. Now she seems to think that I’ll be interested in anyone just because they’re gay.”

–And you’re not,” Daphne stated.

He quirked one eyebrow. –Are you interested in every man you meet, Daphne?”

–Touché! I take your point. I’m certainly not interested in idiots like Davies.” She paused and then leant across and touched him on the forearm. –I am sorry about him. He was extremely rude to you.”

–Not your fault,” Oliver replied bleakly. –And not altogether unsurprising. One or two of my teammates can’t look me in the eye.”

She squeezed his arm again, the light touch of her fingers comforting through his sleeve. She had elegant hands, he noticed, with long fingers and unvarnished, neat nails.

–I’m supposed to be getting you a drink, aren’t I?”

–Mmm,” she agreed, but as he stepped away, she followed him. –It’s very hot in here, so I think I’ll take mine outside and escape the crowd.”

–There’s an assortment of Weasley kids out there, you’ll be hit by snowballs,” Oliver said, and laughed as just at that moment a bombardment of snow hit the window in the lounge, causing the guests to flinch.

–Front garden?” Daphne suggested.

Surprised that she seemed to be inviting him outside with her, Oliver nodded. Then, grabbing two bottles of Butterbeer from the table, he followed her to the hallway where she was rummaging through an assortment of cloaks.

–At last,” he heard her mutter as she retrieved her cloak and swung it around her shoulders. He coughed. She turned around to face him and smiled. –That was quick. Now, where is your cloak, Oliver? I won’t be forgiven by your fans if I drag you outside and you catch pneumonia.”

Handing her both drinks, he plucked his cloak from the pile, and wrapped himself up. –Lead on, Miss Greengrass. And don’t worry, Keepers never have a lot of fans. We let the Seekers take the glory.”

It was colder outside than when he’d arrived, the snow falling thicker now, pelting onto the frozen ground like a feather quilt. Daphne, taking the lead, trod softly upon the snow, wending her way across the front lawn, until she found a snow clad bench. She brushed the snow off with her hands and sat, beckoning him to join her. –We can huddle up and defy the cold together. Unless you object to sitting with a Slytherin. We’re few and far between tonight, I can tell you.”

–I don’t mind at all,” he replied. –Although ...” He trailed off as he wondered how to phrase the next question. Daphne stared at him, the smile on her lips slightly mocking.

–You’re wondering why I’ve been invited, aren’t you?”

–I did wonder,” he admitted. –I thought you came with Roger.”

–No, I’ve barely met him before tonight,” she replied and sipped at her Butterbeer. –I have a shop in Diagon Alley ... Well, I say that, it’s actually nearer Knockturn Alley.”

–What do you sell?”

–Beauty potions,” she said succinctly. –Creams, lotions, oils, etcetera etcetera.”

–Sounds ... interesting.”

She laughed. Not the polite laugh of before, but a glorious chuckle, turning around to face him, her mouth breaking into a full beam. –Don’t lie. You no doubt think it’s pointless and superficial.”

–Well ... I can’t see me buying anything. But I can see there’s a market.”

–I’m not doing badly,” she murmured, then she smiled. –I don’t think Angelina expected me to turn up. She invited me out of politeness as a fellow shop owner. I very nearly didn’t turn up.”

Remembering his own reluctance to be here, Oliver gulped at his drink before replying. –Why did you, then?”

Daphne shrugged. –I don’t have that many social occasions this time of year. I’m no longer in touch with friends from school, and my sister is playing happy families with the Malfoys.” She stopped speaking and for a long while, Oliver thought she’d finished, but then she continued. –Shouldn’t you be somewhere more exciting than here? You can’t be short of invitations.”

–They’re not that exciting. And after a while it’s the same old faces, drinking more and telling the same old jokes.”

–You don’t drink,” she observed. –Are you an alcoholic?”

–No,” he said calmly. He’d heard this several times before and wasn’t offended by her frankness. –But I grew up with one. Why don’t you drink, Daphne?”

–Ah ...”She trailed off and with her free hand began to scoop some of the powdery snow up with her fingertips. –Let’s just say that I found alcohol very useful for a while.”

–And now?”

–Now I’d rather remember what I got up to when I go out instead of it all remaining a blur,” she replied. She swigged again at her Butterbeer, and as she did so, the sleeve of her robe rode down her arm. In the moonlight, Oliver could see a scar latticing across her skin.

–Nasty wound,” he murmured.

She followed his gaze, pulled a face, but didn’t cover her arm. –From the Battle,” she said. –I was one of the Slytherins who came back. I ended up getting badly hexed.”

–I doubt I could tell you which of my scars are from the Battle and which are from Quidditch,” Oliver mused.

–Well, aren’t we both heroes then,” she said, sounding bitter.

–We fought for something that mattered,” he replied. –Surely that counts for something.”

–Back in the day,” she murmured, –perhaps it did. But no one cares now, and battle scarred heroes are ten a Knut.”

–Cynical, Miss Greengrass.”

–Practical, Mr Wood. Although you don’t do too badly out of it. Every interview with you manages to bring up your ties with Potter or your participation in the Battle.”

–That was only because they couldn’t find anything else,” he muttered ruefully. –I think now they have another story to write about me.”

–That was your choice, though, surely,” she retorted. –You can’t complain when you basically outed yourself.”

–I’m not complaining,” Oliver said. –I knew what I was doing when I talked to her. She was asking about my love life. I’d been getting sick of fending off that question with tales about how I was too busy and focused on my career, so I told her the truth.”

–Which is?”

Oliver paused. Putting his bottle down on the bench, he leant back and stared at the snow-encrusted tree overhead. –I told her I’d been in love - very powerfully in love - and that it had ended badly. When she asked who the girl was who ‘broke my heart’, I asked her why she assumed it was a girl. She deduced the rest.”

–Not a hard deduction,” Daphne stated. –You must have known what they’d print.”

He nodded. –At the time I thought it was a good idea. I certainly hoped it would get the groupies off my back, but, if anything, it’s now far worse.”

Daphne started to giggle and tilted her head back to stare at the sky. –I suspect the witches see you as a challenge, and now you’ve a whole gay cohort after you. Really, Oliver, you didn’t think this through at all, did you?”

–Nope,” he agreed ruefully. –I have a streak of recklessness in me that can get me into trouble.”

–Recklessness?” she said, smiling. –I’d call it stupidity.”

–You’re a Slytherin,” he argued. –Of course you’d say that.”

For a second, he wondered if he’d insulted her because her eyes clouded at that moment, but then she turned to look at him and he saw the clouds were unshed tears. –It always comes back to our bloody Houses, doesn’t it?” she murmured. –A decision made by a tatty hat when I was eleven has affected my whole life - and other’s perceptions.”

–Sorry,” he muttered. Taking a gulp of his Butterbeer and feeling it warm him, he thought about leaving her alone. But there was something about her, this sudden rush of vulnerability, that kept him seated next to her. –I’m a bit touchy about it myself, to tell you the truth.”

–Why?” she asked, turning her face towards him.

–Well, that ‘tatty hat’ considered me for Slytherin. Said I was cunning and ambitious and would do well there, but ... I have this streak of recklessness.” He smiled at her. –Or stupidity as you call it.”

She laughed and chinked her bottle to his. –If you’d been a Slytherin, then I could have had a proper crush on you, instead of admiring you in secret.”

–Really?”

–Oh yes,” she replied, sighing. Then she smirked, and nudged him with her elbow.–Only lasted a term, though. I soon forgot you when Gilderoy Lockhart turned up.”

–Merlin, I lost out to that prat!”exclaimed Oliver with mock indignation.

–There was also the fact that I was terrified of flying, so the practical side of me decided you were too far out of reach. Even at the age of twelve, I was a pragmatist.”

–Are you still?”

–A pragmatist - mmm, I think so -”

–No, I meant, are you still terrified of flying?”

–I don’t like heights,” she said defensively, and huddled further into her cloak. –I expect you think that’s ridiculous.”

–A little,” he teased. –But most people are scared of something.”

–Even the brave and fearless Keeper for Puddlemere,” she jeered.

–Ah, well, I’m the exception,” he replied, and then seeing disbelief wrought on her face, he changed tack. –Growing up, I was shit-scared of my dad. Later I was more frightened I’d turn into him. Realising that nothing was set in stone, and that I was the one with control over my life, stopped the terror.”

She didn’t speak, but the silence wasn’t awkward. Oliver stared at the sky, watching as the still-falling snowflakes whirled in the air, and suddenly wanted to be up there with them.

–Is your dad an alcoholic?” she asked gently.

–He was,” Oliver replied wearily and rubbed his hand across his face.

–Alcoholics don’t get better,” she warned.

–I know that, but he died last year, so I can speak of him in the past tense,” he said wryly. Draining his drink, Oliver stood up. –Come on, Miss Greengrass, finish your drink.”

–Why?” she asked, yet still complied.

–Because I’m taking you flying.”

–Oh no, no, no.” She shook her head and didn’t move from the bench. –I told you, I’m not a flyer and I’m scared of heights.”

–Excuses, excuses, Daphne. You’ll be perfectly safe with me and I won’t go high,” he promised as he reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. –I’m the safest pair of hands in Quidditch, so trust me.”

–Trust a man I only met an hour ago,” she shouted. –That’s crazy!”

–Angelina told me to loosen up,” he said, laughing. –Perhaps you should, too. Besides, you’ve known me for years. I was your first love.” He grinned as she pursed her lips. –Come on, I promise we won’t go higher than the fence, and I’ll hold on to you all the time.”

–Why, though?”

–Because ... because ...” Oliver burst out laughing. –Merlin, I have no idea. But why the hell not?”

–You’re mad!” she called, but now she was running with him, her soft footsteps pattering up the path as she tried not to slip on the ice. Then she stopped and pulled on his arm. Oliver turned and wondered why she was smiling slyly. –You don’t have a broom. No one - not even the great Oliver Wood - brings their broom to a party.”

–They do if they fly here,” he murmured, enjoying the shock in her eyes. –You’re right. I didn’t bring my broom, but this is a house where Quidditch is talked about continually, games are discussed over breakfast, and replica robes are given as Christmas gifts. There will be a broom shed.”

She gulped a bit but walked with him, gripping his hand firmly with her own. Treading carefully down a sloped walkway and into the back garden, Oliver scanned the expanse of white in front of him. Ahead various Weasley cousins had tired of their snowball fight and were laughing as they built snowmen. He watched, amused, as Roxanne struggled to fix a carrot on one snowman’s face, leaping up and down in the attempt, then slipping over to land with a bump on the ground.

–Brave girl and very determined,” he murmured as she got back up and had another go.

–Is that supposed to shame me?” Daphne muttered through chattering teeth.

Oliver stopped walking. Very carefully, he lifted his hand to her cheek and wiped away a snowflake from under her eyes. –Sorry, I get carried away with my own ideas and don’t think of the other people who get swept along in my wake. Simple fact is, Daphne, I really want to fly, but if you don’t want to, then that’s fine by me.”

She stared at him and he noticed the blue eyes - the ones he’d thought so icy when she’d first spoken to him - were sparkling and warm. –Show me why you love it so, Oliver,” she whispered.

Heartened and unable to stop the beaming smile erupting on his face, Oliver broke into a run, pulling her with him, and together they half-slid across to the broom shed at the side of the path. Within a matter of minutes he’d selected a sturdy broom (a Cleansweep seven, he noticed) and had mounted.

–Front or back,” he said, holding out his hand.

She hesitated, but after a glance at Roxanne who had now attached the carrot nose to her snowman and was whooping triumphantly, she clutched his hand and got on. –Front,” she replied. –I want to see where I’m about to crash, but you’d better hold on to me tight, Wood, or I’ll hex your balls Slytherin green!”

–We won’t crash,” he assured her. Then, winding one arm around her waist and sliding the other one in front of her to steady the broom, Oliver pushed off with his foot and hovered three inches from the ground.

–Not too high for you?”

–Ha-bloody- ha,” she replied. –I’m not that bad.”

As she looked over her shoulder, he found himself admiring her smile and noticing a small scar just above her eyebrow. He wasn’t usually this observant about people, and for some reason he felt a lurch in the pit of his stomach.

–Take me higher then, Oliver,” Daphne urged.

Automatically, he kicked off, and the broom hovered to the height of the fence. She wasn’t shaking now, but leaning forwards, giggling as the snow fell twirled around them. Without asking, he kicked out with his leg and began to fly with her, steering the broom smoothly but listening intently in case she became scared.

And all the while his heart was thumping hard in his chest, a sound so loud he wondered why she didn’t cover her ears.

For all her earlier protestations, Daphne was now shrieking with delight and exhorting him to speed up, to take her higher. ‘To the trees,” she yelled and waved to the children as they gazed upwards.

The tallest boy, standing between Roxanne and a lad who could only be Harry’s son, so striking was the resemblance, bent to the ground and packed some snow between his gloves.

–Merlin, watch out!” Oliver shouted, leaning over Daphne to shield her. –We’re about to be hit.”

–Little gits!” she exclaimed, then laughed as one snowball landed square in Oliver’s face and several others whipped past them in quick succession. –Shall we get our own back?”

–What do you have in mind?”

–A levitating snowman landing on them would be amusing.”

–Mmm, okay, but not Roxanne’s.” He saw her bemused expression and added, –Hers is the one with the carrot.”

–Fine by me. Besides, the other one is much bigger!” Then, clutching his arm with one hand, she surreptitiously brought out her wand with the other. –Wingardiam Leviosa!”

The snowman rose in the air, but Daphne was now laughing so hard, that her aim wasn’t steady and the head fell off. The movement caught Roxanne’s attention. Raising her hand to Oliver, she grinned at him, waved and then stepped to the side, deliberately not warning her cousins.

–Ha ha, I like that girl!” Daphne crowed when the large ball of snow landed with a splat over the ringleader and his assembled gang.

Their yells and howls of indignation rent the air, but the ringleader, his hair a curious shade of blue, picked off the head of Roxanne’s snowman and propelled it with all the force he could muster at Daphne. She shrieked as Oliver swerved the broom away just in time, but the large snowball caught the broom tail and sent it spiralling to the ground. To the cheers of the children, Oliver steered it towards a soft landing slap bang in the middle of Roxanne’s headless snowman.

–Merlin, it’s freezing,” Daphne shrieked. –And you swore to me we wouldn’t crash!”

–I landed us safely!” Oliver protested. –You can’t blame me for the fact that your levitating snowman caused them to retaliate!”

–I’ve got snow inside my robes,” she cried, trying to get up but slipping back on her bottom. –I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold. This is all your bloody fault, Wood!”

About to defend himself from the hex or punch he was sure would follow, Oliver tried to stand, but he, too, slipped, landing inelegantly on top of her. Daphne didn’t move, made no attempt to push him off. He stared at her, watching as the outrage seeped from her face, and a hunger ventured in her eyes. Wordlessly, she entwined her hands around his neck and pulled him down to her, touching his mouth with her lips, curious for more.

Amidst the disgusted cries of the children surrounding them, he closed his eyes and gave in as her insistent mouth plied his lips apart. Her hand slid from his neck and down his back, resting on his waist, gently massaging with her fingers through his cloak.

This can’t be happening, he thought. But Daphne Greengrass was here; she was real and alive, and she stirred feelings inside of him he’d thought had died long ago. He responded, his hand travelling down to her hip, delighting in the unfamiliarity.

–No,” she whispered.

He pulled away, her words delivering the wake up call, he should have heeded before. He wrenched away, pulling back until he was rocking on his heels at her side.

–S-Sorry,” he stuttered, and got to his feet, desperate to get away. But she sat up sharply and grabbed his hand.

–I meant not here,” she said.

–I can’t do this,” he said, staring aghast at her. He jerked his hand away from hers and strode back to the house intent on saying his goodbyes to George and Angelina, so he could leave.

–You’re a coward, Wood,” she called out. –Do you know that? You enjoyed kissing me just then. Just as you’ve enjoyed spending time with me tonight.”

He hesitated a moment too long, giving her the chance to catch up to him and finish her diatribe. –You haven’t faced your fears at all,” she stated. –All that crap about your dad, but you’re still living in the past, aren’t you? Living in a loveless existence because some bloke dumped you! Well, listen up, arsehole. We all get dumped. It’s a part of life. So what makes you so much more special than the rest of us?”

His shoulders slumped; he closed his eyes, hoping to shut out the images swimming before him of a golden boy cut down in his prime. –I wasn’t dumped! Merlin, that would be easy!”

–What then?” she demanded.

He grabbed her hand, saying nothing but marching her out of the front gate.

–Where are we going?”

–You’ll see,” he snapped, pulling her along the pavement and across the road.

–Can we at least Apparate there? I’m bloody freezing!”

–I hate Apparition and don’t have a licence, anymore,” he muttered. –It’s not far.”

She said no more, apart from a few muffled complaints about her cold feet, yet when he tried to drop her hand, she held on tighter. For quarter of an hour, they trod the street in silence, the snow still falling but in softer flurries now.

–We’re here,” he murmured, peering through the wrought iron gate.

–What, we’re about to go and confront this git, are we? Is he married or a Muggle?”

Puzzled, Oliver looked down at Daphne, and then he sighed. She was looking in the wrong direction, studying a house opposite, festooned with garish Christmas lights and a tacking looking Santa sitting on the roof. With one hand under her chin, he turned her face the other way, and pointed through the gates of the cemetery.

–Oh.” Daphne squeezed his hand tighter, then let go and shoved her hands deep inside her pockets. –I’ll wait here for you, if you’d like.”

–No,” he replied. –I’d like to show you who he was.”

Carefully, he picked his way through the graves aware that behind him Daphne was holding her breath as if she feared the dead would wake at the noise. He stopped at a gravestone apart from the rest. It was reasonably well kept, and there were three sets of fresh flowers adorning the grave.

–These,” he began, picking up a wreath of yellow roses and shaking off the snow, –are from his parents. Hufflepuff yellow, you see. The lilies are from Katie Bell, I think. She was one of his childhood friends.”

–And the red rose?” Daphne asked when he didn’t pick it up. –Is that from you?”

–No, I’m not a flower man and anything from me will only cause a stain on his memory.” He paused as he stared at the tight red bud. –That will be from Cho Chang. She’s married now, but she’s never forgotten him.”

–Oh my ...” Daphne blinked. –This is Diggory’s grave, isn’t it? You mean you and he were ... together. Gods, I had no idea!”

–No one did. It was a secret, private thing. Snatched moments and me pushing him away because I didn’t think he knew what he was getting into. ” Oliver mumbled. He gulped at the cold air, feeling it hurting his lungs. –I thought we had all the time in the world, but he died. That’s why it ended, and that’s why I haven’t felt anything - anything at all - for such a bloody long time.”

There was a pain somewhere inside him, an ache waving through his body, a hurt he’d tried to suppress for far too long, fearing it would break him. He started to shiver then felt a glow of warmth. Glancing at the girl by his side, he realised she’d cast a Warming Charm, but it wasn’t the cold causing him to shake.

–Come on,” she said. –You can’t stay here.”

–I need to -” He broke off, and hearing the sob catching in his throat, he pulled away from her. –I need to do something for him.”

–Freezing by his grave won’t bring him back, Oliver,” she murmured. –Unless your plan is to join him?”

–What?” He shook his head, bemused, then realised what she meant. –No, no, I wouldn’t do that.”

Daphne stepped closer, not touching him, but close enough that he could smell her scent and hear her take a breath. –Leaving flowers on a grave is a lovely idea,” she mused, –but it’s not the only way to honour someone. I think your tears after all this time say far more than a rose, Oliver.”

–I’m not crying,” he murmured.

She smiled sadly and lifted her hand to his cheek. –Not on the outside, perhaps.”

And then it happened. A single hot tear prickled in his eye and slid down his cheek, followed by another, then another. He didn’t dash them away, but let them spill onto his cloak not caring that Daphne, a woman he’d barely spoken to before, was standing with him, stroking his hair.

–Come on,” she whispered at last as she linked her arm in his. –I think we should leave.”

–I’m not going back to the party.”

–I know,” she said, –because you’re coming with me. But we’re Apparating.”

–I haven’t got a licence-–

–Side-Along, Oliver. I am licensed, and I also passed first time, so ...” She patted his side. –You have your wand and if you hold on to me tight, you won’t get Splinched.”

He shuddered, the last of his sobs leaving his throat, and then nodded. Wrapping her arm around his waist and pulling him so close his chin rested on the top of her piled up hair, Daphne turned sharply. Although the crushing sensation was constricting his lungs, Oliver didn’t feel the usual panic. He could hear Daphne murmuring to him, whispering his name, and as they span he felt curiously calm.

–Your place, I presume,” he said when they landed. They stood on a cobbled pavement facing a pink and green candy-striped shop front. –It’s striking.”

–For here, yes,” she agreed. –If I’d been in the main drag of Diagon Alley, then I’d have had to think of something different, but amongst this row of shops, I stand out.”

–Is your trade good?” he asked politely, still wondering what on earth he was doing here.

–Extremely,” she replied. –But we’re not here to discuss my balance sheet.”

As she opened the door, he was assailed by the scent of fresh lemon, and something else he couldn’t identify.

–Sorry,” she said, noticing him flinch. –I’m brewing something and in the early stages patchouli is overpowering. Go through that door and up the stairs if you really can’t bear the smell. I need to check this, though.”

He didn’t move, but watched as she removed her cloak, and rolled up the sleeves of her dress, revealing again the livid scar. She took a glass ladle from above the fireplace and after swirling the brew, lifted a sample out and examined it under the light. –Not clear enough,” he heard her mutter. Then, after stirring again, she turned back to him. –I can leave it a while longer. Let’s go upstairs.”

–Why have you brought me to your shop?”

–It’s not just my shop. I live here,” she replied. –And quite frankly, I wasn’t about to leave you alone. I don’t think you’ve cried in years, have you?” He shook his head. –Mmm, I thought not. Right, I’m going to make us both a cup of tea - unless you want something stronger, and then we can talk.”

–I don’t need to talk.”

–Well, we’ll play Exploding Snap, or you can sit and listen to me rambling on about profit margins, or ...” She smirked. –I could give you a facial.”

His lips twitched. –Tea and Exploding Snap would be great.”

Her lounge wasn’t a bit like the shop below. Where she’d used pastel shades to create a calm environment for her customers, her own private space was stark white, apart from a red fringed throw across her sofa and some scarlet cushions on a pair of armchairs.

–Could you get the fire going while I make a pot of tea?”

He nodded and crouched down by the hearth. When she returned a few minutes later, he was still there, watching as the flames licked around the coals. She handed him a mug, Summoned a couple of large cushions and sank to the floor opposite him. He sipped at the hot tea, not looking at her, but aware she was peeping at him from under her lashes.

–I’m really not going to make you talk,” she said at last. –You can relax.”

–I’m not sure there’s much to say,” he said bleakly. –I loved him. He died and no one else has come close.”

–Have you given anyone a chance?” She stopped speaking and took a sip of her tea, then ran her fingers through her hair. –Have you actually been with anyone since he died?”

He flushed and looked away, feeling awkward but not annoyed at her question. He could speak to her, and after all those years, it was a relief to unburden his soul. –Uh .... well ... I did try and screw my way out of it. Anything to stop the pain, and I figured that was better than turning to booze.”

–Really!” She raised her eyebrows. –I would have thought stories about you would have surfaced long before now, in that case.”

Pulling a face, Oliver looked directly at her, at last meeting her gaze. –They were girls,” he replied. –It was ... easier, that way.” He laughed bitterly. –Nothing stopped the pain, whichever girl I was with merely dulled it for a while. Pretty sordid, don’t you think?”

–Understandably human,” Daphne replied softly. –Don’t be so hard on yourself. We all have different ways of coping with loss.”

By the firelight, her hair seemed red rather than light brown. She’d unpinned it now, and it fell to her shoulders, not in sleek waves but a mass of unruly curls, so at odds with her cool persona.

–Who did you lose, Daphne?” he asked gently.

–Myself, for a while,” she murmured, then smiled sadly. –I was a Slytherin under the Carrows, Oliver. Sometimes I find that too much to bear.”

He reached across, taking her arm and exposing the scar to the light. –You fought at the Battle.”

–A few hours parrying curses can’t make up for the year I spent doing nothing,” she replied. –Sometimes I wonder how people can bear to be in the same room as me.”

He raised her hand to his mouth, dropping a kiss onto her fingers. –No one was screaming at you to leave tonight.”

–Apart from Roger, no one was exactly falling over themselves to speak to me, either,” she said archly.

He grinned at her. –I think you’ll find that I literally did fall into you.”

–You’re different,” she said, returning his smile.

–Am I?”

–You were trying to get away from that ghastly Frenchman. You’d have latched onto Sybil Trelawney if you’d had to.”

He finished the rest of his tea and the stretched out. Lying alongside her propped up on his elbow, he slowly reached across and tweaked one of her curls. –I wouldn’t have taken Trelawney on a broom,” he said, his thumb now caressing her cheek.

As she lay alongside him, the skirt of her dress rucked up. He spied her stocking top, glimpsing the ivory smooth skin of her thigh. His eyes travelled upwards, appraising her and the promise she held, until he reached her face and her all too knowing eyes.

–What are you thinking about?” she murmured.

Pulling her towards him, he laid her flat on the red rug. Then he bent his head down and touched his lips to her brow, his fingertips travelling lightly up her arm, skating over the scar to stop on her collarbone. He heard a soft moan in her throat, her small pink tongue darting out involuntarily wetting her full lower lip.

–You said you were gay?”

–The Prophet said I was gay.” he muttered. –I’m .. discerning.” He stopped kissing her, giving her the chance to push him away.

And then she responded. Not the gentle kiss of before in the snow. This time her teeth nipped his lower lip, her fingers dug into his shoulders and she pressed her body up close, imploring, exhorting, demanding. He groaned and kissed her back. Fervour matched fervour as he sought to assuage the hunger tearing through him.

–I thought this was wrong,” chided Daphne when at last she surfaced for air.

–I don’t care,” he muttered. He crooked his head towards her, wanting to nuzzle her neck and breathe in the sharp tangy scent of her skin. Then he groaned as her hand slid under his jumper, her nails scratching lightly up and down his back. –It feels bloody good.”

She laughed throatily, continuing the caress, whilst her other hand pulled his jumper up and over his head. He felt her mouth rippling kisses across his chest, and then his mouth was on her neck, his hands tugging at the zip of her dress until it slid down her shoulders leaving her breasts exposed.

–Merlin, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, hardly daring to touch her.

As she reached up for him, drawing his head down to her breasts, a clock chimed twelve. –Merry Christmas,” she murmured.

–Hush,” Oliver breathed into her skin. His hand slipped lower until he was tracing her stocking top. –I want to open my present.”
End Notes:
Reviews are lovely, and make all your wishes come true. (I might have lied about that last bit).

Over at the MNFF beta boards, Maple made the point that Oliver could have been a Slytherin. Whilst at the time I disagreed, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to fit - apart from that strong streak of recklessness. Thank you MAPF!
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