A/N: Short one. I'm just jotting this down before class.

…………………

Confessions: Part 2

…………………

"Ah! You're hands are cold." Oliver yelped.

I smiled at his reaction. "And it's all your fault."

And it was. Just because Fred and I were bewitching bludgers to chase George, but not hit him, there was no reason for him to make us stay after practice and pick up the equipment. Isn't that what we have his little fan club for?

Fred had finished up his duties quickly, due to his longer legs and unexplainable energy. So I was left outside, in the cold, by myself.

So naturally, when I came in to find Oliver alone, just out of the shower, I instigated a little payback. After sneaking up behind him, I quickly slid my hands around his waist and under his shirt.

"Just warming them up." I said as I pulled them out.

Oliver turned, pouting at me slightly. "That wasn't very nice Katie."

"Oh, poor baby." I said sweetly, leaning up on my tiptoes to kiss him.

Somebody cleared their throat behind us. I turned and saw Harry walking toward us with one hand over his eyes and the other feeling the air in front of him. "I'm uh…coming out of the showers now. Not seeing anything. Just keep doing…whatever you were doing."

I collapsed in giggles at the look on Oliver's face. Burying my head against his chest, I heard him say, "It's okay Harry. Nothing's going on."

Harry stumbled out of the locker rooms, hand still over his eyes. Guess he didn't want to chance seeing something inappropriate. As if Oliver would do anything like that here. This is his holy ground, after all.

It's been almost a month since my strike outside of Oliver's door. And ever since then things have been going great. Who knew that underneath all of that obsessiveness there was such attentive boyfriend material?

That's right. I said boyfriend. Cause I guess that's what Oliver is now. My boyfriend. Wow. That sounds so weird. After all these years of wanting this, it's so strange to finally get it.

And I'm suddenly considered the enemy to nearly every girl in school. Like it's my fault that their epitome of manly Quidditch hotness is completely ga-ga over me. Well, technically it's not. I did try to get him interested, but I never thought he already was. Or to this extent.

He's just being so…sweet. I never knew a guy could be so, well, sweet. He's just too adorable for words. Like the way he's been carrying my backpack around for me. And how he always saves me seats at dinner-much to Dennis Creavy's annoyance. I know, I know. Most guys would do the same thing for their girlfriends. But it just seems cuter coming from Oliver.

I will admit that I may be a bit biased though.

And let me tell you, if I thought I was smitten with him before, it's ten times worse now. Every tiny little gesture is just turning me into a big pile of mush and driving me insane. I never thought I'd be the type of girl to fall victim to this type of gushy nonsense. I've always detested girls who act like simpering morons around guys. Now I'm one of them.

And my friends aren't making it any easier. That first night when I went back to the guys' room they proceeded to make kissy noise and bat their eyelashes at me until I hexed them all. And now that I'm back in my own room it's not much better. All Alicia and Angelina seem to want to talk about these days are the personal details of my relationship. And when I say personal, I mean personal.

So they're mad at me again. I'm sorry, but I don't think Oliver would appreciate me telling them what kind of underwear he wears.

Not that I know of course.

We left the locker room hand in hand. I don't think I've had my hand to myself in almost a month. Not that I'm complaining. Oliver is prattling on about our chances in the finals as usual. Typical.

"Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we please talk about something else?"

He looks confused. "Why?"

"We just came from practice. Enough Quidditch for tonight." I explain.

"Enough Quidditch?" he looks positively dumbfounded. "Nonsense."

I shake my head. "Not everyone is as…" This is where I'd usually say 'obsessed,' but I have a feeling that won't go over well. "…dedicated as you are." I finish.

"Pity." he remarks.

By now we're back in the Common Room. It's getting close to exams, so the activity rate is a little low. Most of the Gryffindors are either studying in the library or in their rooms. Which is where Oliver says he's heading off to.

Oh well. I'm sure I can find something to entertain me.

No sooner than Oliver's out the door, than the twins come bounding down the stairs.

"You guys not studying?" I ask.

They look at each other, and then at me, with incredulous looks on their faces.

"I know. Stupid question."

They settle around me, each with those nosy looks they're famous for.

"So Katie, we hear from Harry that you and Oliver were having a bit of fun in the locker room after we left." George said.

"No wonder you took so long cleaning up. Couldn't wait for me to leave, huh?" Fred waggled his eyebrows at me.

"You goof. We weren't doing anything."

"Ah, ah, ah." Fred shook his finger at me. "Lying is a very unattractive habit Katie. Harry distinctly heard Oliver say your hands were cold."

I felt myself flush. "You two…"

"It's alright." George put his arm around my shoulder. "Hormones. We completely understand."

"Personally," Fred said. "I'm amazed Oliver took it so well."

"Took what well?" I asked.

"You know, your plan." he said.

"Yeah. If a girl ever admitted she did that to me, I'd be furious." George added.

I kept my head down and tried not to look too guilty.

Tried and failed.

"You did tell him, didn't you?" Fred asked.

"Well…"

"Katie." George said. "You have to tell him."

"I can't. You just said yourself he'd be furious if he found out."

"No, I said I would be furious." he corrected.

"And Oliver wouldn't?"

"He's been nuts about you for six years. I think he'll forgive you." Fred told me.

I shook my head. "Maybe if I had told him right away. But now…it's too late."

They both tried again to convince me. But I remained adamant.

"Guys!" I yelled finally, glad we were the only ones in the common room for once. "I am not going to tell Oliver that I only went after him again so I could dump him. It won't do anybody any good."

"Well it would have saved me a lot of trouble." a voice said from the portrait hole.

A voice I know very well.

A Scottish voice.

I turned and, sure enough, there was Oliver. I have never seen him that look on his face before. It's scarier than the Quidditch face. And right about now, I'd actually prefer that look.

Uh-oh. Looks like I've done it now.

…………………