A Rather Unfortunate Event

Dear God, I hate him. I bloody hate him. Harlow, do this. Harlow, do that. I looked up and shot him a death glare while completing my seventy ninth push up. Standing in front of me was no other than my vile Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood. Needless to say, we did not get along very well. Actually "not getting along" might have been an understatement; we loathed one another. Truly and utterly loathed. He was a huge dick to me, so I returned the gesture by being a major bitch.

"Hurry up, Harlow," he muttered. Practice was just about over, but he couldn't leave until I finished with the one hundred push ups which he'd made me do. Fred and George peered over his shoulder from behind him and sighed before trying to reason with him.

"Wood—,"

"No one human can do one hundred push ups—,"

"Yeah, Fred and I can't do more than twenty… put together," the twins protested.

The attempts were all in vain as Wood simply shrugged them off and pointed to the changing rooms. The two twins looked at me with sympathy before walking off, but I really couldn't care less about their sympathy considering that I was attempting to finish my eighty first push up. Each time my arms extended and contracted I felt like collapsing on the ground and not getting up for a rather long period of time. I was fit, I mean, I have been one of the Gryffindor chasers since Alicia Spinnet quit the team, but one hundred push ups after an already exhausting practice was just a ridiculous request. Only natural that Wood was the one who had made such a request in the first place. A little more, Riley. A little more, Rye. A little more. I cheered myself on, but to no avail. Suddenly, my arms collapsed under me and I fell flat on my face. Slowly lifting myself off the mud I had found myself in, I looked up at Wood who was wearing a rather amused smirk on his face. I groaned and flicked him off before propping myself up and heading off for the changing rooms.

"That's not one hundred push ups, Harlow," he voiced sternly.

"Don't give a fuck, to be honest," I mumbled while walking away. I was almost at the door of the changing rooms when someone pulled me back. As I assumed, it was Wood, looking rather pissed off.

"That wasn't one hundred push ups, was it?" he questioned before shifting in front of me and blocking the entrance to the changing rooms.

"I'm not going to follow your ridiculous instructions, Wood," I spat. I attempted to shove him out of the way, but he didn't budge.

"If you don't go back and do the remaining seventeen push ups, you're off the team, Harlow," he explained, his expression somber. I snorted and shoved him out of the way once again, however this time he moved and let me pass through. He wouldn't actually kick me off the team, I know that. I mean, they need me, they really do.

"You know you need me, Wood. You need me on the team to win, you know that," I started. "The fact that you have to take all your bottled teen angst out on me will not jeopardize my position on this team. You can be a prick to me all you like, but you know that there's no way you're getting that cup without me."

"You're wrong, Harlow. Gryffindor is full of potential chasers. The fact that you got on the team doesn't mean you'll stay there. Now, do the bloody push ups or leave and don't bother showing up for practice tomorrow," he said, his Scottish accent sounding harsher and more prominent than usual. I scoffed before entering the changing room. There was no way he'd kick me off the team. It's just his usual bullshit. It really wasn't the first time he'd threatened to take me off the team, just that usually he didn't seem this serious about it. Most of the time he'd yell it in one of his usual fits, but this time he just stood there, his voice inflection not changing once.

Once in the changing rooms, I set my broom against the wall before grabbing some clean clothes and entering the shower rooms. Everyone else had already left and not a single sound resonated throughout the large room. I closed the door of the shower room behind me. Slowly, I stripped off my quidditch robes and turned the shower on. I just stood there attempting to relax as I let the warm water travel down my body. As I pulled the hair glued to my face back I heard that all too familiar voice behind me and the sound of the door knob turning.

"Harlow, are you still in he—," Wood started, but never got to finish his sentence as he found himself staring at a rather nude me. I quickly covered myself to the best of my ability considering that I had nothing to cover myself with other than my two hands. Wood didn't even attempt to hide the fact that he was gazing at my body.

"Obviously, I'm still here," I stated, trying to avert his attention from my lack of clothing and answering the question he had set previously.

He looked up at me, smirking, but instead of leaving the shower room he leaned against the door and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes never leaving mine. "Harlow, I don't know why you're bothering to cover up, it's not like there's much to see, anyway," he explained.

"Get out!" I yelled, my patience dissolving.

"No, I think I'll stay. I'm rather enjoying myself here," he smirked some more.

"I thought you said there was nothing to see, Wood. Get out, you sodding git." He didn't budge. I only then realized that my towel was right next to where he was standing. If he noticed it was there, there was no way he'd give it back. Cautiously, I started walking towards him and watched his eyes get wider with every step I took. Eventually, I found myself only inches away from him. His confused sea blue eyes were trying to read my unfazed greens. I put on my sexiest smirk right before quickly taking my hands off of parts of my anatomy I'd rather not let him see. By the time he had figured out that I was completely naked in front of him my now free hands had found their way to my towel which was now wrapped around me tightly. I turned on my heel, walked over to the shower and turned it off, the smirk never leaving my face.

"You ought to think about losing a few pounds, Harlow. Oh, and don't bother coming to practice, I was serious about kicking you off," Wood said before closing the shower room door shut behind him. The smirk immediately left my face. Being a normal, self-conscious sixteen year old girl, weight was always an issue, no matter how much I weighed. While weight was an issue, quidditch was my life. There is no way he could kick me off the team, is there? I sighed trying not to let Wood's words to get to me and then proceeded to get dressed.

I was rushing to make it to dinner in time, seeing as my post-practice shower encounter with Oliver had taken up a little more time than I had expected. I hurried down the many Hogwarts hallways before barging into the Great Hall. I ran to the Gryffindor bench and seated myself next to George, as I usually do.

"Bloody hell, we thought you had died on the field or something! Where were you?" George questioned. I stared down at the food on my plate while contemplating whether or not to tell the twins about my misfortunate encounter with Wood.

"We've been waiting for you for over an hour and a half," Fred continued.

"Yeah, why'd you take that long?"

"It's not like it takes you an hour and a half to do fifteen push ups."

"And while you do love taking rather long showers—,"

"An hour and a half in the changing rooms—,"

"Is just inexplicably long—,"

"Unless, of course, you had a bloke in there." The twins went on for quite some time, spitting out possible reasons for my tardiness, but my eyes stayed glued on the food which I had not touched yet.

"Wood saw me naked," I blurted out quietly. The pair immediately shut up and gawked at me. "He walked in on me in the shower…"

"Blimey, why don't I ever walk in on you in the shower?" Fred wondered while wearing his signature grin.

"We have to ask Wood for details later," George added in. This was one of the downsides of having male best friends. Especially ones like Fred and George. They never took anything seriously, and in my sixteen year old teen mind having the one person I truly loathe see me naked is pretty sodding important.

"Wait, how nude were you, Rye?" George piped up again.

"Very, George. Very," I rolled my eyes.

"Completely?" Fred interjected.

"Obviously. I was in the shower, after all." The two just looked at one another as if Christmas had come a little too early before looking for a familiar face at the table. I knew they were looking for Wood, and I also knew that they were going to ask him about it. While they were my best friends and they'd never let one of my secrets slip to anyone, this wasn't exactly a secret. Not to mention that they were pretty close with the sodding prick, too. Wood would probably tell every person he stumbled upon about the encounter, and Fred and George knew that. So, before he did so they figured they could exploit their rights as my best friends and could get the complete rundown of the event from someone else's point of view. Normally, I wouldn't really care, but tonight was different. I'm somewhat of a little child when it comes to my everyday needs and right now I was tired and hungry. A tired and hungry Riley Harlow results in major mood swings. I looked down at my plate of food which I still hadn't touched and was about to take a huge bite out of the chicken when I recalled Wood's words from earlier on in the evening. I dropped my fork, got up and headed back to the Gryffindor Tower. From the corner of my eye I could see George looking at me worriedly.

"Hey, you all right?" a voice from behind me asked. I was sitting on a sofa in the Common Room reading a book. I turned around and found Harry and Ron hovering over me. "Oh, hey Harry, hey Ron. Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all. I should be asking you the same thing, what with Black on the loose and all; all of Hogwarts seems to be in a state of frenzy," I replied. Harry had always been one of my favourite third years. Ron I knew well because he was Fred and George's little brother. I often stayed at the Burrow since I had nowhere else to go; in fact, I had spent all summer there. Ginny and I secretly practiced her Quidditch skills behind the orchard while the boys were away. She was actually much better than Fred and George were during their first year. Over time, the Weasleys have become a sort of second family to me much like they have to Harry. By the time I had shaken out of my thoughts I found George towering over me. He sighed and then proceeded to find a comfortable position on the sofa.

"Sorry about earlier, we didn't mean to offend you, Rye. I mean, we know that in your mind Oliver seeing you nude is the end of the world," George said.

I chuckled slightly before answering. "Nah, it's fine, really. I just didn't feel too well and was knackered after practice."

"Uh, yeah, about practice…" George started. "Uh, I went up to Oliver with the noble intention of pestering him to give details about your earlier incident, and he mentioned that you quit the team for real this time. Is that true?" I stared at him. Wood was actually serious about kicking me off. I didn't even bother replying before I set off to find him.

"Wood, you bloody wanker! Where the hell are you?" I yelled as I frantically searched for him amidst the many faces in the Gryffindor tower. I made my way all up to the boys' dormitories and burst through his door not bothering to knock. My stomach churned in an all too familiar manner when I found him on his bed with yet another Gryffindor girl. However, I didn't let my mind wander off too far from the reason I had initially come here to discuss.

"How could you tell Fred and George that I had quit? I had done no such thing," I demanded.

"You didn't do the one hundred push ups, either," he stated coolly.

"Because it was a ridiculous request, Wood!"

"I told you I'd take you off the team if you didn't do it, had I not?"

"Well, yes. But I didn't take you seriously. It was one hundred push ups, Wood!"

"Of course, you never take anything I say seriously. Don't worry, Harlow, I have already scheduled new try-outs."

"You need me on the team to win, Wood. You know that."

"I happen to think that there are other capable chasers here in Gryffindor."

"Capable, maybe. You need a little more than capable to win. Oh, for fuck's sake, Wood, drop the act; you might not like me, but you love quidditch and it's your last chance to win the cup." My voice was loud and full of anger while his remained collected throughout the entire conversation. We were obviously in rather different states of mind. Neither of us, however, seemed to have noticed that the girl he was with had silently slipped out of his bed and left the room.

"You've been on the team for a few years now, Harlow, and we still haven't won the cup. Obviously you're not quite as good as you seem to think you are. In fact, recently I've noticed that your flying is a tad bit insecure." Now, this just made me fume. I had my faults all right, but quidditch was not one of them. My flying was not one of them. Biting back on every remark I had mentally prepared about his inability to be a good captain, as well as the mistakes he makes in the position of keeper, I stormed out of the room.

I ran down the stairs, past the majority of Gryffindors in the Common Room, and made my way up to my dormitory. I thought I heard one of the twins calling my name, but I really didn't pay much attention to the utter pandemonium around me as I ran for the stairs. The room was thankfully empty, so I was free to collapse on my bed and start sobbing like a two year old that was denied ice cream. In only minutes my pillow was soaked with tears and Angelina exploded through the door, obviously sent by Fred to find out what was wrong with me.

"What'd that prick do now?" She asked, knowing that Wood was responsible for whatever sudden mood change I had.

"He took me off the team," I choked out between sobs. Angelina's face immediately went from mildly annoyed to a shade of blood red. She knew how much of a deal quidditch was to me.

"HE DID WHAT!" she exclaimed. I just nodded to confirm that she heard right, not really feeling like repeating the sentence. She left the room knowing that I hate to be comforted while I'm crying. It was a habit I formed when I was little, being around boys all the time while playing quidditch and all, crying immediately made you weak. And being the only girl in the group, I couldn't exactly allow myself the luxury of being weak.

By the time all the other girls started pouring into the dormitory I had already calmed down quite a bit, though my puffy eyes were clearly evident. By midnight everyone was more or less in bed and sleeping except me; I kept tossing and turning in my bed not being able to really fall asleep. I decided that I wouldn't get any sleep if I kept this up, so I silently got out of bed, and headed for the boys' dormitories. I thought how I had to thank Hogwarts one day for being somewhat sexist and trusting girls more than boys, therefore not putting a charm on the staircase leading to the boys' dormitories.

I walked over to George's bed and shook him gently.

"George, George, scoot over," I whispered into his ear. Reluctantly, he slightly opened one eye to make sure that it was me standing in front of him before sighing and making space for me in the bed. It wasn't unusual for me to sleep with the twins in their bed. I did it quite often when I was scared or something was bothering me. Nobody seemed to think much of it. The rest of the boys in the dormitory were rather taken aback by the random girl in the bed of one of the two Weasley twins the first few times, but then seemed to have figured out that it was just one of those things we'd do. The twins were only a few months younger than me, but were a whole year below me in school much to my dismay.

"Everything all right?" George mumbled. I merely gave him a little nod before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.