Would You Rather?

"Scared, Harry?" I asked Harry. He was gripping his Nimbus 2000 so hard that by the looks of it, he was about to pass out.

"A little," he said.

"It's all right. I felt the same way before my first game," I said, trying to reassure the nervous first-year seeker.

"What happened?" He squeaked back in response.

I swallowed and took a deep breath. "Er," I hesitated. "I don't really remember. I took a bludger to the head two minutes in. Woke up in the hospital a week later."

At least it wasn't a total lie.

I scanned the multitudes of students who adorned the seats of the giant stadium. They were dressed largely in scarlet red and gold with a minority section of emerald green and silver. The cheers were loud as the game was nearing its beginning. I saw Fred and George pulling pranks, as always, and Lee in the commentator booth. I saw McGonagall scolding unruly students, and then I saw a group of girls dressed in red and gold ascend the stadium stairs.

Marie Amoretti was her name. The girl that made me so distracted during my first game of Quidditch that I neglected to dodge a bloody Bludger. She was in the center of her circle of friends, probably talking about which 6th year they'd be snogging after the match.

*** Oliver Wood's Third Year ***

"I think I've heard every Wood related joke ever since I've been here," I complained at breakfast, while I stacked my plate with pancakes and muffins. I finished fastening my keeper's gloves onto my hands and placed my hand on my nervous stomach.

"I don't know about that, mate. Seems like your secret admirer can pull a few more out from up her sleeves, if you know what I mean," Fred said boisterously, laughing up a storm with Lee joining in soon after.

"What's the matter, Oliver? Nervous for your very first game?" George seemed to genuinely ask.

"I don't think so, Georgie. Just hungry," I said, before taking a bite from a blueberry scone that was on my plate. "As for you, Fred, I don't even know who my secret admirer is, so I don't want to know what she has up her sleeves."

"What if it's Georgina Livingston?" Lee asked excitedly, looking over at the gorgeous blonde seventh year student.

"I highly doubt it," I said, frowning as she stuck her tongue down some guy's throat. Lucky bastard...

"What about Slimy Stella?" Fred asked, looking over at the runny-nosed girl from Ravenclaw. After a few moments of stunned silence, we all burst out laughing.

"No," I answered, hoping to Merlin that she wasn't the secret admirer I've been receiving perfumed letters and notes with lipstick kisses on them from. "It can't be her, she's not wearing lipstick, and if she wore perfume, she'd never stop sneezing."

"True," they all agreed, before busting out laughing again.

"It could be someone in our house and in our year," George pointed out, "like Marie or Bekah."

"Face it, I'm never gonna find out who this girl is," I said, cutting into my pancakes.

"If it even is a girl," Lee whispered to George, snickering under his breath.

"Hey Oliver, can I steal you away for a while," I heard a voice say from behind me.

I turned around to come face to face with Marie Amoretti, a brunette Gryffindor in our year. She looked at me for a second and when I said yes, she turned to George, whom she made a face at, returning the gesture the red-headed twin probably started. She was a cool girl.

As we made our way out of the Great Hall, she started asking me questions about school and the quidditch team. She was such a laid-back and comfortable person that it was easy for me to lose myself to her. In fact, as I was answering her, I forgot to pay attention to where she was taking me and soon, we were in an abandoned classroom that had cobbwebs and dusty chairs scattered all over the place. I gulped as I came to realize that it was this very classroom older couples came to snog in.

"So," I said, hoping I was mistaken. Or was I hoping that I wasn't mistaken? I could never tell what I felt for girls at that age.

"So," she said, cornering me up against the wall. "I'm guessing George told you."

It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Told me what?" I asked, my back now against the wall. She had me pinned up against the wall with her small frame pushing against mine. It made me slightly uncomfortable.

"That I'm your secret admirer," she whispered into my ear.

Our bodies were so close together that I could recognize the perfume she was wearing. Oh, Merlin... why did my secret admirer have to be an amazing person?

"No, he didn't tell me," I said feebly, noticing how near her lips were to mine.

"Oh... Well then, I guess I just told you," she smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"I guess so," I whispered, inching towards her to close the gap, then pulling away at the last minute because of nerves. Her soft hands found their way to rest on my broad shoulders; I felt my spine stiffen.

"Why are you so... tense? Do I make the amazing Oliver Wood nervous?"

I gulped... again. "A little."

She smiled and backed off a little, though her hands remained on my shoulders. Not for long, though. Moments after she backed her full body off of my own, she began to run her hands slowly down my chest. For a newly-13 year old girl, she sure seemed like she knew what she was doing.

"Look, Oliver, I think you are extremely attractive. And I want this to go somewhere. But, you can't be nervous around me," she said. "Unless it's just because you don't want to be with me."

After that realization, she removed her hands from my torso and ran them through her hair. Eventually, they came to cover her face in shame.

"Hey," I said, softly. She continued standing still, her hands over her face.

Think, Oliver!

Then I thought, instead of her embracing me like she was just minutes ago, I should embrace her! Yes, that's what I should do!

I walked quietly over to her and wrapped her in my arms... Now what?

Thinking of all the muggle movies I've heard much about, I bent down to whisper in her ear: "Wanna know a secret?"

Smooth, Oliver. What 'secret' were you going to tell her, exactly?

Shit.

Before I could scan my adolescent mind for a smooth response, her light brown eyes looked up at mine. Suddenly, I knew.

"I think you're extremely attractive, too," I whispered into her ear. Immediately after, I felt the breath of her sigh of relief hit the bare skin of my neck. I backed off from our embrace just enough to see her smile, and I smiled at the sight. We were close again.

"So," I said, starting this off again, whatever it was. "My quidditch game starts in five minutes, but what are you doing afterward?"

"I'll be with the Slytherins, I suppose," Marie said, the flirtatious glint reappearing in her eyes and a smirk resting on her lips.

"Sounds good," I said, returning the smirk.

We stood there together, with my young arms wrapped around her waist, and just stared into each other's eyes. Her hands had moved from her face back to my shoulders. It was comfortable, to say the least.

"Ok, but really... what are we doing afterwards? Want to sneak into the kitchens with me?"

I faked a laugh and teased, "I'd rather get hit in the head by a bludger."

With the full return of her confidence, she stood on her tippytoes and whispered in my ear, "Well that's just too bad."

Before she fully got down from being on the tip of her toes, she ran her hands through my hair until they were slightly pulling the hair at the back of my neck. Then, she lightly pushed her lips against mine.

At first, it caught me by surprise. But then, my lips started moving against hers and I hoped it wouldn't end anytime soon. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

"You should get going," she murmured as she rested her forehead against mine. A sea of thousands of people were heard rushing down the corridor, probably heading toward the Quidditch pitch.

"Yeah," I agreed, taking deep breaths as my forehead rested against hers.

With a final kiss, she walked past me briskly. When she reached the doorway, she turned her head and said, "Do me a favor, yeah? Don't get hit in the head by a bludger."

With that last statement and a final smile, she walked out of the room. Ten minutes later, the match started. Two minutes in, I got hit in the head by a bludger.

****

Everytime I see Marie with her group of friends, I can't help but wonder what would have happened had I not been cruelly attacked by a Slytherin Beater. Now it's just awkward between her group of friends and mine. Whenever we see each other in the halls, I try to smile and I make every attempt to reconcile with her, but I honestly think she thinks I chose getting hit in the head by a bludger over her. Silly girl.

"But seriously, Harry. Don't worry about it, can't get any worse than my first game," I told Harry, as we flew out over the stadium and the crowd.