Title: Accentuated


Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)


Rated: PG13


Pairing: W/Oliver


Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things HP belong to JK Rowling, et al.


Distribution: The normal places.


Summary: He just has that way about him. . . Short follow up to "The Forgotten One".


~*~*~


He just has that way about him. I think that's what caught my eye, two summers ago, when he first entered my life, running roughshod over everything I'd ever known and held dear. He turned my entire world upside down and I don't think he even knew he was doing it.


A world full of wizards? Not a world, world, mind you. It's not like another dimension or plane of existence, though it might as well be for all that they stay hidden. It's more like a secret society that you can't get into unless you know the password, speak the code and carry a big stick.


Or . . . a little stick. A wand, to be exact. I'd never had a wand, something about growing up on the Hellmouth I was told later. I didn't -need- a wand. Didn't stop me from getting one. It's a cute little thing - and I have to admit that using it -does- make some spells easier.


Anyway, back to Him, the one that changed my life.


He was just visiting his family for the summer. An aunt and uncle that had moved to the States and, for some odd reason, chose to make Sunnyhell their home.


We were attacked on one of our first dates. Not a big surprise, I know. I found out he was a wizard and he found out I was a witch.


It was him that arranged for me to get into a wizarding school. Him that took me in over the summer.


And him that broke my heart during the school year.


Oh, don't get me wrong. He made up for it later. I've never seen a boy so devoted to 'making things right'. Presents, romantic dinners and picnics. we got back together, much to my father's chagrin.


Yeah, my father. As in dad. As in - not Ira Rosenberg. Funny how that worked out. I go to school to learn to use magic and end up meeting my real dad. He's a wizard. And a sourpuss to the tenth degree.


But he's pretty cool.


Even Buffy likes him. In a sort of like-hate kind of way.


But - back to my Ollie.


Oliver Wood. Yes, -that- Oliver Wood. The professional Quidditch player. Star keeper for whatever team it is that's paying him right now. I don't honestly know, it's been hard to keep track of things like that these last few months. I mean, I'll be graduating soon.


You heard me right. A whole year after I should have graduated from high school, I'm finally graduating from Hogwarts. A good thing, really. And not just because I'm the oldest student here --


Okay, yes, its because I'm the oldest student here. The only thing that's kept me going is Oliver's owls, and sometimes visits. And dad's lectures on doing my best. Funny, a Professor lecturing a student on doing their best. . . not ironic at all that I get it outside of class, too, is it?


But all that's coming to an end. The late night studying. The feeling of being off I get from being the oldest Slytherin in the school. I'm hated by my own house for helping bring down that Voldemort guy. Of course, he shouldn't have touched my dad.


And there are still rumors that he's alive, somewhere. But who knows? I'll kick his scaley butt all over again if I need to.


Back to the point, though. Graduation. They don't call it that here. It's just another end of the year type thing, but this time we don't come back when the summer is over. No more school!


It should make me happy, I know. But I'm not. I'm scared. I don't have the slightest clue what I'm going to do now that I'm finished with school. The Headmaster assures me that the Ministry's entry level tests would be a snap for me to ace, but that's beside the point. Do I want to work for the Ministry for the rest of my life.


Dunno.


All I know is that this is going to be the first night in forever that I've seen Oliver. Nearly three months now, if I haven't miscalculated - which I haven't, I mark each and every day on my calendar. He's coming tonight for the Leaving Feast.


So maybe I look like a silly little girl waiting on the castle steps for him to arrive, who cares? I want to be the first to catch sight of him when he apparates way down the path, outside the gates.


And - oh! There he is!


A flash of dark brown hair, walking up the path. I don't run to him. That would seem. . .silly.


Alright, I'm running. Forget silly.


"I missed you," I giggle, throwing myself into his arms.


"How much?"


There it is. That accent. The one that haunts my dreams and fills me with such a deep, lasting sense of wonderful, tingling excitement. I loved it from the moment I first heard it, years ago. And still, even now, it turns my knees to jelly and sets the butterflies a-knockin'.


"A lot," I grin. "You're just in time - the Feast starts in ten minutes."


I grab his hand, tugging him along for five or six steps before he stops me, digging his heels in and sending me sliding back into his arms.


"Then we've got some time."


The world fades away as his lips touch mine. That first heavenly kiss, so like others we've shared over these last two years. But its something else. Something more. It's like a rekindling of that flame that burns between us, taking it from a slow burn to a roaring blaze in just seconds.


His mouth is sweet, like vanilla; and I fall into it with abandon.


"We'll. . miss the feast," I manage to breathe between kisses, taking great gasping breaths for air as he worked wholly to suck it from my lungs with his mouth and lips.


"So?"


I giggle, swatting his arm to break the kiss he'd only just re-initiated.


"My father will come looking for us."


That's the one thing that I've ever known to get Ollie moving. The idea that my father could very well be coming to get us. Helps to have your dad as one of the scariest Professors in Hogwarts history sometimes.


"One more thing, before we go," he glances behind me, towards the castle, as if to verify that my dad -isn't- coming.


He's got a little velvet box out as he goes down on one knee. And a part of me knows what's coming next, even as my heart and soul goes into overdrive, kicking up emotions into my body and making me dizzy.


"Willow - will you marry me?"


"Of course."


It's all I can manage, but he doesn't seem to mind. And the ring - wow. Definitely a sparkler. No, I mean that literally. There're these new wizarding diamonds that sparkle. And this one is sparkling like there's not going be a tomorrow. Gonna be hard to hide it in the Great Hall during dinner.


Not that I want to.


Willow Wood? What a laugh. Buffy and Xander are going to have a field day.


~*~End Fic~*~