Who: Mandy and Oliver Where: Hogsmeade When: Saturday, after the Mandy and Wayne log What: As promised, Oliver finds her in Hogsmeade Rating: a VERY hard G. It's hardcore! Hardcore cute!
It's easy to lose one's self in a bookshop, especially one of the wizarding variety. It was even easier to forget that one was in a bookshop when a book was pulled from the shelf and immediately engaged the reader. Thus it was that Mandy was found, her cloak, scarf, and gloves in a pool of winter fabric over her trainers. She leaned against the bookshelf, unmindful of the time. Fingers ghosted over pages, turning them with only a whisper to break the silence.
Oliver had only to stand in the street at Hogsmeade to divine what might first tempt a Ravenclaw. The book shop of course. So, with leaving two brooms parked against the outer stone wall (in a bank of brooms belonging to others), he entered the warm little hovel and immediately unwound his scarf.
The small bell over the door jingled, remaining but a part of the background noises and raising not a questioning glance from Mandy. She simply turned another page, at the same time turning so that she was facing the front of the shop and relieving the arm that had been pressed against the bookshelf.
Palms together for warmth and eyes narrowed for sight, he quickly espied Mandy. A wry smile on his lips and a slow movement brought him forward until he stood opposite her and cleared his throat.
"You," her smile was hidden by her head, still bent over the book, "are blocking my light." Slowly, a finger tapped on the spine of the book.
And in tandem, his index finger shook at the volume in her hand. "I've come all the way from Ireland and that's all you're going to say?"
Book closed, she hugged it to her chest for a moment, then: "Hm. Last night I dreamt that I had a house at the bottom of the lake, and the Giant Squid and I had tea. He tried to tell my fortune, but the tea leaves floated out into the water, and the lake turned into tea. Then the school came down and had a tea party and I was bereft of a home." She paused. "Hello."
"What sort of tea? I hope a good make from a good company," he said, pausing as she paused. "Hullo."
Her jaw dropped as she thought. "I've no idea, actually." Still a little shy, she glanced down at her feet, noticing only then that if she'd taken a step forward, it would have been disastrous. She would have tripped over her cloak, and her imagination immediately supplied a long list of embarrassing outcomes. She looked back up at him quickly. "You're looking well."
His grin was complete. "You think so? Oh, it's bloody good to be on a broom ... that helps more than anything."
His enthusiasm was catching. She reached out to clutch his arm, beaming. "I still think I may burst from joy, for you." The bookshop had no charm for her anymore, not with talk of flying, short though the talk had been. She swept her outer wear over her arm, hooked her arm with his, and started toward the front of the shop, there to buy her chosen book.
"I'd be thinking you had better not take to bursting. It'd just make a terrible mess." His elbow lightly jabbed her rib as they walked their way to the front of the store.
Mandy swerved slightly, out of the reach of his elbow. "Then I suppose I won't." Books paid for, she draped her cloak over her shoulders, and headed out. "I think... perhaps Michael should have called for practise today, instead of coming to Hogsmeade." It would have been an ideal day for it. "You'll come for the match next week? We're up against Slytherin."
Rewinding his scarf and slipping a pair of gloves over his hands, he followed Mandy and nodded as she spoke. "It'll be tough with Slytherin. But you lot have always had a good team." Pause. He jerked his thumb toward a pub. "Buy you a firewhiskey? We'll call it butterbeer, for good measure."
Pursing her lips, she thought for a moment, then nodded. "All right." She drew her gloves on and then wrapped her scarf around her neck, and started in the direction he'd indicated. "To be honest, I don't care what it's called as long as McGonagall or Flitwick don't find out." Or a prefect, for that matter.
He followed her with slow, measured steps, carefully picking his way through the film of snow that lay upon the ground. "It's alright, we'll sit in the back. I mean -- or -- whatever you want. My Mum complains that I'll never get well if I don't drink cranberry juice constantly."
"You do realise how you get around that, right?" She tossed the question over her shoulder, smirking. Stopping, she waited until he was even with her before continuing. "Add a shot of... whatever you want to the juice. Of course, she'll probably catch on, I know my mum would. But how is your leg?"
"You've met her, Mandy, she's got a sixth sense for these things. And whatever she is doing works, so I can't say much of anything about it." Shrug. Finally at the door of the pub, he swung it open and motioned her inside with his hand. "M'lady."
She pressed a brief kiss to his cheek as she walked past him into the pub. "Thank you, sir." She pulled her scarf away from her face, protest against the intense warmth of the room. She made a direct line towards a table near the back, flushed from the heat (or so she told herself). When he joined her, she conceded the point, grinning. "Then... continue with her treatment, and soon you'll be flying full-time."
Signing to the barkeeper for two of the usual, he made his way between the tables and upturned faces to seat himself next to her. "We'll see -- " There was more than one variable to consider in the healing of his legs; but he grinned, all the same.
"What are your Healers saying?" She pulled her gloves off, stuffing them within the pockets of her cloak. Then, realising how very personal a question it was, stuttered out a slight retraction. "Only if you... well." Foot-in-mouth, indeed.
"I've one. And, well, she's quite hopeful. In order to fly on a team, I need to regain full mobility in my joints. She says it can happen -- " He shook his head. " -- listen, Mandy. We're friends. I don't care answering those kinds of questions."
She rested her head in a hand, listening to him. She smiled at his assertion, and nodded. "Then, have they changed their prognosis. Mum says -- did I tell you she's a Healer at St Mungo's? The ward they put Lockhart, I think, last I knew. Anyway, she told me that it might change, especially if things are going well."
"It was touch and go for a while. But, it really is fascinating that I started healing quicker when I went home." Two hands slid two drinks over the table toward them. He nodded his thanks and returned his attention to Mandy. "Your mother! But what a talented woman, indeed, is she."
She smiled slightly, hands closing around her glass. "That's not unexpected. She's always bringing home stories of people who heal quickly when surrounded by loved ones or is in a beloved place." She bent over the liquor, watching as it moved slightly, reflecting light. Fascinated, she brought a finger to its surface, breaking it and watching the concentric circles before bringing her fingertip to her mouth. "There's got to be a connection there..."
"Home?" he mused, chin now cradled in his palm as he watched her speak. "I don't rightly know. But I appreciate it, all the same."
"Home, comfort, security," she listed the first, immediate words that came to mind when thinking of home, or of any place that she truly loved. "Appreciation. Thankful. ... Laughter. Love. Something psychological, though." She paused, shaking her head and shaking herself free from the tangle of thoughts she'd found herself.
His own house in England, filled with memories he cared not to revisit. There was a nod of agreement as the glass met his lips and he took a swallow. "There's a great deal of comfort in safety."
Their conversation had taken a sombre turn, one she was slightly uncomfortable with for reasons she didn't understand. She lifted her glass and studied the liquid within from a different angle. "You know, I've not had Firewhiskey. My brother wouldn't allow me to." But he'd allowed her any of the Muggle drinks she'd wanted. Shrugging, she mirrored Oliver, although with a smaller sip. The result of which left her coughing and her eyes watering.
Immediately slapping her back, he shook his head and tried rather valiantly to contain his laughter. It didn't work. "He should have! What a poor excuse for a brother."
The offending glass is set on the table, victim of her glare. Batting away his slapping hand, she shook her head. "Stop, that makes it worse. Oh, that is foul." Her words notwithstanding, she couldn't resist trying it again, her mouth working against a smile of her own.
He shook his head, placing both palms between them while sitting back. "I guess you have to get used to it!"
She pushes the glass towards him. "I... I think I'll stick with Muggle drinks. Thank you, though." Unconsciously mirroring him, she folded herself into her chair, bringing a knee to her chest and resting her chin there. "I'm glad you came to Hogsmeade, today."
"Well, why is that?"
Her eyes darted to the surface of the table, the grain of the wood covered by a darkened finish. Various reasons to give him fluttered through her head, some of them complete truths, others only partial. A slight blush found her cheeks, as the one she wouldn't give was pushed firmly away. "Oh, uh. Sometimes it's nice to see a friendly face that one doesn't see every day."
His smile warmed as he, completely oblivious to her discomfort, sat back and finished his glass of firewhiskey with a flourish. "Grand!"
She grinned with him, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Quite." She paused, only now wondering why he would even be in Hogsmeade when it was inundated with so many younger than he. "Why did you come today? It's mad out there." She gestured towards the outdoors, where even then a horde of Fourth Years scrambled by, looking in the windows curiously.
Only, he did not seem to notice them. Watching Mandy, he raised a shoulder and spun the empty glass upon the wooden table top. "Well, I've still got my friends, here. You, and Hannah Abbott, I've promised try giving her a flying lesson."
She gave him a wry grin. "Try? Is she that bad? Granted, I've not seen her fly since First Year and I was too busy laughing at Lisa." She grinned a bit more widely. "Don't let her fall, please."
"To hear her tell it. And I don't particularly think that she's the type to be falsely modest," he said, snorting. "She won't fall -- " he promised, only raising his brows to perhaps indicate the level of horror that would be indicatory of Abbott's body prone upon the ground.
"Well. I'm sure you'll teach her well." She eyed the rest of her glass, then reached out to pull it towards her once again. She sniffed it, then laid it back down. She could only forsee disastrous results if she attempted it again. "Have to learn to drink that." Then, eyes wide, she slumped down in her seat. It was Sinistra.
Quickly, he snatched the glass from her hands and swiftly downed the liquor with a simple flex of his arm. "She didn't see you."
"She's probably in getting her month's supply for herself." Her tone low, she watched in amusement as her favourite professor accepted a brown sack. "She's not as bad as Trelawney by a long shot, but there are nights I wouldn't trust her to check my work for anything in the world." Eyes sparkling, she gave a wave when Sinistra spotted her.
Oliver smirked, however, as he observed Sinistra to be seemingly repelled by his own presence. " ... she didn't like me, and I stayed out of the Astronomy Tower unless I was doing something slightly -- " shrug. "But you've got one of 'em in your corner, and that counts for quite a bit."
A laugh was covered in a cough. "She's not a bad sort. Just a bit... fanatical. More than me, if you can believe it." Her laughter only grew when Sinistra's eyes moved back toward her, and she frowned at Mandy. "I shall tell her you are corrupting me. Perhaps you wished to ravish me." Then, she pressed her face into her hand, unable to believe that her foot had found its way into her mouth, even the slightest bit.
" ... ravish?" With a quirked brow, his own laughter filled their corner of the bar. "Oh Lord, if I had been wanting to ravish you a whole passel of Hogwarts professors in a bar and a river of firewhiskey would not have stood between it and me."
"Hush." She hissed the word, doing her best to hide her face, red as it was. "Do you know, I've decided I'm going to not speak again. Ever." Her shoulders shook in silent laughter and she wished for the glass of Firewhiskey that he'd downed. "I'm just going to keep my mouth shut. And take my N.E.W.T.s."
"So be it!" he declared, leaning forward to place a kiss on both of her burning cheeks. Then, with his lower lip bitten in concentration, he mustered the blood in his legs to flow as he stood. "And I've got to meet Hannah, post haste."
Promise broken seconds after it was made, as she couldn't help but speak. "I'll see you, Oliver." Impulsively, she pulled him into a hug. "Teach her well." As for her, another hour in the pub wouldn't go amiss, not with the company of her new book. And the chance to fully get over her innate idiocy.
Oliver wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed tightly. "I'll be seeing you," he murmured, lips moments from her before pulling away. A big brotherly grin crossed his lips as he threw up a hand and was summarily gone from sight.