From the sky to the sea (Oliver Wood fan fiction)

Being Poorly

Occasionally, when you've been wet and cold for a longer amount of time, it can happen that you get sick. During and after the last Quidditch game I was wet and con't for a pretty extended amount of time which lead to me being sick. 

It's never fun when a fever decided to posses your body, it's even less fun when all you can think about during the days in which you're bedridden is Oliver Wood. I'm being a little dramatic, considering that I was only actually so sick that I could get out of bed for two days but that doesn't mean I haven't had a cold for the past week. 

Tossing yet another snot filled wad of tissue into the fire in the common room I groan and let myself fall over so I'm laying on the floor. 

"Whoa now." Frank materialises next to me and lifts my head into her lap. For a second, but only a second I let myself imagine that it's Wood in her place. Then I groan again because ever since the game day preposterous thoughts like that have popped into my head.

"Do you want another cup of tea?" Frank runs her fingers though my hair in the most soothing kind of way. 

"No thank you." 

"Is there anything else I can get you?" 

"My health." I make an attempt at a joke but fail miserably considering that I don't look at all like I'm joking. My eyes are all watery and my nose is read and my hair hasn't been brushed in days and in comparison Frank looks like an angel watching over me. 

"You'll be better soon. Just you wait." Frank reassures me  helping me up and into our dorm room. 

Classes the next day are hell. Or at least more so then they usually. My head is pounding and all I really want to do is lie down on something or lean my head against a wall. 

In potions Snape comes up to me to harries me about one thing or another but I'm not really sure what exactly it is. To be honest I just don't really care. I just nod at him over and over until he goes away, which eventually he does. 

Transfiguration is worse. That class actually requires thinking and thinking is not something I'm in the state to do. 

"Still ill, Waters? Wood?" McGonigal asks. Wood? Is Oliver sick too? I look around the classroom. And sure enough, way in the back, sits Oliver Wood with a red nose and watery eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Professor." We both say at the same time. We don't say it in unison or whatever, because that doesn't actually ever happen but we do start the sentence in the same moment. 

After the class I wait at the door for Oliver. 

"You're in quite a state, aren't you?" He asks me, expression black and completely deadpan. 

"Again with the kettle and the pot." I try to sound smart. 

He just gives me a blank face and then proceeds to walk out there door. Oh no he doesn't. I grab hold of his arm. 

"What do you want, Waters?" He sounds almost hostile. I don't like it much. 

"I just thought we would talk about what happened." 

"What happened?" 

"I don't know. That's why I want to talk about it." I explain. "I mean one minute something was defiantly going on and the next you walked out into the pouring rain in a towel. Ring any bells?" 

"We don't need to talk. I already know what you're going to say." Wood grumbles. 

"And what's that?" 

"You're going so say we should just forget it happened. And you'll say please because you think adding a 'please' makes it all okay." 

"What?" I don't know why he's being like this, all rude and bad tempered but it's defiantly not doing anything for my mood. I remind myself to say calm about it and not get mad or annoyed. 

"It's forgotten, oaky? Happy now?" Then we yanks his arm free and walks out.  At this point I'm more then a little confused. I've no idea what to make of Oliver's mood but I can't help feeling responsible. I'm not sure what exactly I did to piss him off but I know that it was me. 

"I don't understand." I tell Frank and Cedric later that day. "He lean his face in to me. All I did was- well noting really, I did nothing." 

"How do you mean you did nothing?" Cedric asks. 

"I mean I did nothing. I just sat there frozen into place. In fact I was rather occupied with how uncomfortable I felt being frozen into place." 

"You mean to tell me that Oliver Wood tried to kiss you and you where thinking about how uncomfortable it was?" Cedric pulled an outraged face. "Penny Waters, you're quite something." 

"I'm sorry." When Cedric put's it that way I feel really bad about the whole thing. Should I have done something? Moved or something? "It was cold and wet and the floor was really hard and my shoulder hurt- Wait. No. He wasn't trying to kiss me." 

"Yes he was." Cedric argued. "Believe me okay, he was." 

"But why would he do that?" I start and then I'm reminded of the talk I had with Frank about Wood and I being 'compatible'. 

"Pen, I know that you know that you're a looker." Cedric is right. I am pretty and I know it. I know it sounds horrible and vain and connected but it's true. I like the way I look. I like my tanned skin and think eyebrows and unreasonably long eyelashes. And sure every now and then I'll have a spot or two, because who doesn't, but I'v never felt the need to cover it up or magically remove it.  Is that so wrong of me? Especially since it's one the few things I'm actually really happy about.

No matter how vain though I'm not to fond of the thought that someone would just like me because of the way I look so I completely disregard that as a valid reason why Wood would try and kiss me. 

"So?" 

"So, you're quite nice to look at, you both have this love passionate love for the same sport and you're a fantastic person all in all. "Frank takes over. "Maybe he fancies you." 

"No." I don't even take a moment to consider the possibility. It's just: No.  Neither of my friends argue but Cedric roles his eyes more then once. 

That night in bed that's all I can think about. Only in the dead of night when everyone else is asleep do I allow myself to believe that there's a possibility that maybe Oliver might like me, a little. But that wouldn't explain why he was so grumpy today. 

Should I have kissed him? But where would that have brought us? The last time we did that we stopped talking to each other. Unfortunately this time I feel like we'll stop talking even with out having locked lips.