Shrinking Violet

Confession

"You could have just told us you know, it's not like either of us were about to prance of and tell Wood or anything." And despite himself George cracked a grin at that, the thought of his twin prancing was enough to send anyone into a fit of giggles, and then the added thought of the said person whispering a secret into Oliver Wood's ear like two teen girls was enough to make him die of laughter.

"I know, it's just that Cedric told me not to, and he wouldn't listen to anything else I said." She shrugged, ignoring George's snicker as they walked through Hogsmeade, it was still to warm outside to actually wear a coat so they strolled in casual clothes. "Besides, I'm still kind of mad that neither of you wrote to me from Egypt." Her cheeks puffed, Fred grinned and George laughed.

"What are you talking about, I sent you a letter for each day we were there!"

"That's impossible because I didn't get a single letter, I should know I sent my bird to The Leaky Cauldron everyday just like you said to." At that precise moment they both seemed to notice Fred taking a particular interest in all the windows hanging in front of every shop.

"Fred-"

"Oh is that Angelina? I haven't seen her since Quiditch practice this morning, sorry guys but I've got to go!" He yelled, running off. For a minute the two looked Fred's bright red hair zig zagging through the crowds and meeting up with mocha colored beauty herself. And then finally they both laughed, they laughed so hard that Cleary had bent over, her hand clasped around her knee.

"Well that explains why Fred never complained that my letters were weighing down our owl." He shook his head, becoming aware that he and Cleary were all alone now. They still walked side by side, both in matching pace. But something had shifted, there was a sort of tension that hung in the air drifting about aimlessly.

"You can't really blame him though, he has a way of making things more interesting don't you think?" George nodded, it was the very thing he was jealous of. It was always Fred and George. Never George and Fred. But his jealousy was short lived, for in that very moment the girl beside him had spread the softest of smiles upon her face.

"But really it's more important to be dependable than interesting, don't you think George?" And as he glanced over it struck him, quick like a lightening bolt.

Cleary was beautiful.

Her eyes were dark and sweet like melted choclate, her skin smooth and silky, her face just the right proportion, and her voice a melody of it's own.

"Y-yeah." He stammered, following her aimlessly as her laugh twinkled into the sky.

***

"This was a terrible idea." Cleary hissed at the two boys, her legs jammed into her chest as she sat at the bottom of the broom closet. Eyes narrowed at the two boys. Fred sat in between, some what comfortable in a cross legged position. But it was George who was the most miserable of the three, his long legs cramped as one crunched against his chest and the other lined against the side of the broom closet.

"No the idea was brilliant, the plan was terrible though." Fred declared, ending his statement with a pointed stare at a George.

"The plan was decent, it was your bloody let's rile Filch's cat while we're at it that ruined the whole thing." Each word brought a louder octaval in his voice, until he was just about yelling. He didn't know why he was so upset, or why it bothered him that if Fred wasn't here his feet could causally brush against Cleary's ever so slightly, or why the smell of Cleary's perfume seemed so sweet and alluring at this moment.

"Would you guys just shut up." Cleary hissed. "Fred overdid it with the damn cat, George forgot to add the possibility that Filch might actually still be awake, and I forgot how to let you guys know Filch was awake without making a lot of noise.

"How did you forget anyway?" Fred asked, a sincere question as it had been reviewed quite thoroughly. And in that minute George caught sight of Cleary's pink cheeks her head resting against her knees.

"I guess I got distracted."

***

"Wood!" She yelled, her voice firm and stern. They were the last two in the pitch, which Cleary had deliberately planned for. His head whipped around, his chestnut colored hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. But her eyes were too consumed with rage to notice anything else.

He had no right, no right at all.

His thick voice still wrung in her ears, she knew he hadn't meant for her to hear it. But she had, and it bothered her to no end.

"Maybe you should consider another keeper." He had told Cedric in a hushed whisper, Cedric shook it off with a smile and a joke about how Oliver Wood was just afraid he was going to lose. But the comment wrung through Cleary's head all day, until she could no longer bare it. It had been enough already that Oliver Wood seemed to despise her for no reason whatsoever, but this had crossed the line.

"Who do you think you are?" She growled, Oliver's face contorting into an expression of pure confusion. "I know you probably think that you're some sort of hot-shot quidditch captain, but don't you think it's a tad rude to advise others on their choice of team positions?" And suddenly realization blossomed on his face.

"Cleary, I didn't mean it like-"

"Oh,so now you're going to lie too? I heard you Oliver, honestly it's really none of your concern what position I'm in." In any other circumstance the two would have left it at that, but Oliver himself was in a rotten mood. Practice had been cut short due to Slytherin hogging the field, and his teammates had only given half hearted attempts at their drills.

In a swift move he pushed the sleeve of his robe up, revealing, not only several dark bruises as well as multiple cuts and scrapes, but also toned muscles all along his forearm and biceps.

"Do you see that? I get those everyday doing drills alone, what if you hurt your face?" His words came out in a rush, words veined with venom. The words flew into her ears, she barley processed them, her mind so filled with rage that all she could manage to say was:

"What business is it of yours if I hurt my face or not?" She was close to screaming now, her nostrils flaring.

"Because I'm in love with you!"

It took her several long seconds to truly process what he had just told her, and another several long seconds to think of something to say. Of course, it didn't really matter because within the next moment, Oliver Wood had grabbed her face. Her hands coated with a thin, dry layer of dirt, rough against her soft skin. His lips silencing her before she could even protest.