Chapter 8 : Piper loves Musicals
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Oliver Wood stepped out of Piper’s House, chuckling about her apparent fascination with cupcakes. How can a girl like cupcakes so much and still look as fit as Piper? Damn. It was bloody mystifying.
“Wood!” Coach caught Oliver off guard, grabbing him by the arm, and looked around before lowering his voice. “Is she alright?” His eyes shifted stealthily from side-to-side while he steered Oliver towards the bleachers lining the Scrimmage Field. “I don’t exactly know how close you two are, but you seem to get along alright.” At Oliver’s nod, he continued. “I’m worried about my girl. Can I trust you to see that nothing bad or unseemly happens to her? Maybe talk her into a suitable profession?” He leveled Oliver with a trusting glance.
Oliver found himself at a loss for words, so he just nodded dumbly. Coach wants me to ‘watch over’ his daughter? To watch over Sexy Piper James? It was a good thing she would probably be ‘Prewett’ when school started back up. “Suitable profession?”
Thomas turned serious as he started to talk again. “When PJ was about twelve or thirteen, we were having a rough year. Long story short; we got in a fight, she took off and fell from her broom from sixty feet up. Threw her back out. Ever since then, I’ve been trying to protect her, keep her from getting hurt again.”
Oliver looked out at the ongoing scrimmage. Screwing up his face in thought, he asked him a question. “So you want me to talk her out of being a Quidditch player? I don’t think I’m comfortable with that.” Not in this lifetime, anyways.
Coach shook his head. “No. Yes. I don’t really know.” He blew out a weary breath. “I just want her to be happy. If she wants to be a pro, we can’t stop her.” Coach clamped a companionable hand onto Oliver’s shoulder. “Just watch out for her at school and that kind of crap. Keep the boys at bay.”
Oliver sat alone for a couple minutes after Coach left. What the Hell was that all about? He stood, rolled the kinks out of his shoulders and started towards the Scrimmage Field. He shook out his hands, trying to shake off the imprinted memory of Piper’s body against his.
Around seven in the evening, Oliver found himself outside of Piper’s door. Holding a plate of lemon cupcakes and a peach smoothie. The bloody house elf Bompski had about cursed him to oblivion when he’d asked him for the food. When he mentioned it was for Piper, she cheered up marginally and piled the plate high of goodies.
Which led him to where he was now; listening to the incompetent Healer detail Piper’s injury. Which, of course, he had seen. Oliver mumbled his agreement to the Healer and moved briskly passed him to open the door. The sounds of an old muggle musical filtered throughout the Sitting Room as he walked towards the occupied couch. He sat the plate down and stood up, scratching the back of his neck in deep thought. What does one say to a girl you hardly know, but are going to be basically attached to for the rest of the school year? And are starting to fancy the piss out of? “Um…Hey.” Smooth.
A wand was waved threateningly over the top of the couch. “Jason, if you are back in here, I’m gonna hex you into next Thursday.” Piper paused. “If it isn’t Jason, you’d better have some damn cupcakes.”
Oliver laughed heartily and grabbed a cupcake, crossing the room to the couch. “Glad I’m not Jason then.” Smiling, he passed Piper the cupcake and lifted her feet to sit down on the couch. “How’re you feeling?”
Piper smiled, still delirious from the Healing draughts. “Like I’ve been cracked upside the head by a Bludger and am pumped full of Healing draughts.”
“Wonder why? Cheeky twit.” He grinned toothily, and gestured towards the closed door. “You missed out on a good Scrimmage.”
Piper feigned disinterest. “Oh, really?” She picked at an imaginary hangnail. Raising an eyebrow, she spoke. “What happened?”
Oliver assumed the same disinterested tone. “Not too much. Flanagan beat your brother to the snitch six times, Seidel scored twelve times and I shut out your team.” He shrugged. “Nothing exciting.”
Piper crooked an eyebrow. “Well, damn. I leave and all of the fun begins.” She peeled away the wrapper of the cupcake. “Ooh! Lemon! My favorite! Too bad you didn’t win.” She sent him a teasing grin before turning back to her movie.
“We did.” He likewise turned to the movie, but unlike Piper’s shocked face, his wore a devilish smirk.
“Huh? How did you manage that?”
“Jason stopped playing. And the other Chasers, Grundy and Johns? Totally blitzed Sullivan. I felt a little sorry for him. A little. Not really, though.”
Piper’s eyes widened, as she sat up, pulling her legs underneath her. “Freaking. Awesome.” She peeked around his rather imposing body to the end table. “A peach smoothie? Hells yeah!” Piper crawled somewhat drunkenly towards him, ending with her knees on his right side, her body in front of his face and her arms perched on the armrest. Sensing Oliver’s perusal, Piper reached for the smoothie and smirked. “Say hello to the twins, Oliver.”
The twins? Why the bloody hell would the twins be here? Oh, yeah…they’re cousins or some rot. Oliver peeled his eyes away from her lovely form to ask her when the twins came over. The bemused smirk playing at her lips told him that those weren’t the twins she had been talking about. “Why PJ, that’s awfully cheeky of you. What would your dad think if he heard you talking like that?”
Piper sat back onto her heels and giggled. “He’d probably give me some rot about how he brought me up better than that.”
Oliver nodded and agreed. “Exactly.” He reached for a cupcake.
“Then he would tell me to stop being so pansy-assed and call them what they are called. Tits!” Piper cheerfully smiled at Oliver’s reaction to her comment.
He coughed a couple times to clear his throat of crumbly lemon cupcakes and admonished her. “PJ!”
She affixed an innocent face upon her mug. “What?”
“You are terrible,“ Oliver scolded. How the ruddy hell am I going to stay around her for the rest of the semester with her talking like that?
Piper playfully stuck her tongue out at Oliver and pushed him with her feet. “Move it or lose it, bro. I’m tired, and I want to watch the rest of my movie.”
Oliver looked about quickly for a place to sit.
“Oh for crying out loud, Oliver. Just lay down behind me and watch the movie.”
He settled in behind her, propping his head up with a fluffy pillow. “You call this load of rubbish a movie? ‘Singing in the Rain’? Sheesh, Pipe.” He tucked his head behind her shoulder to shield his head from her wrath. Damn fists. “Now, ‘Highlander’, that’s a movie.” He nodded into her head.
“Shut it.” Piper snuggled down into the couch and the warmth that Oliver’s body provided. “I love this-yawn-movie.” She rolled over and snuggled into his chest. “Be nice. Or I’ll make you go hang out with the boys.”
“I’ll be nice. The ‘boys’ don’t smell as nice as you.”
She smacked his chest and giggled. “Damn right. And their boobs aren’t as nice as mine.”
Oliver laughed heartily and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t think your father wants me thinking or commenting about that kind of stuff.”
His comment was met with silence.
Oliver fell asleep thinking about how right Piper was.
Piper reached out and shoved his solid shoulder.
“Dammit Wood! Wake the hell up!” Piper stood up and yelled, pulling of the blanket that had been covering them up.
“Huh?” He lifted his head groggily and looked at her. “What time is it?”
“Hmm?” Piper stopped sleepily fiddling around with the VCR. “Oh, um, about two-thirty.”
“Oh, alright. Night.” Oliver rolled over and settled into the pillow again, intent on falling asleep again. “I thought you just said that it was two-thirty in the morning.”
“I did. Now get up.”
“Why?” Oliver was testy.
“You can’t sleep down here; you’ll be so sore tomorrow.” She grabbed an arm and tugged fruitlessly. “Get up Lazyarse. There’s a nice warm bed with your name on it upstairs.”
Oliver’s head popped up. “A warm bed? Me like-y!” He popped up off the ground and pulled Piper towards the stairwell.
AN: Okay...so this chapter kind of blows. I think. You should leave a review and help me improve it. Next chapter will be longer. Most def. Thanks!
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