Disclaimer: Don't own HP never will. Tis all JKR's.

The rain drummed against the windows, and thunder rolled in the distance. I looked up towards the window; all I could see was darkness and the rain pelting against the glass of the window. I was definitely glad I wasn't outside; no, being up in the Gryffindor common room, playing a game of Wizard chess was more logical and drier option.

Pushing my hair out of my face, I contemplated my next move. I glanced quickly up at my opponent, one of my best friends, Sara. She was grinning at me with an air of smugness, her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for me to make my move. So far, out of the three games that we had played, she'd won two of them. I had been lucky and won one – it was partly the distraction of George and Fred running around screaming hysterically that had caused her to lose.

The two of them were just trying to attract attention, which they had obviously done, along with a few laughs. I shook my head, amused. The twins were great, and a lot of fun to be around, there was never a dull moment when you were with them.

Opening my mouth to order my knight to another square, I looked up sharply as the portrait hole swung open, and to my immense relief, Oliver Wood tramped through it, looking as though he'd just gone out and rolled in the mud.

I fought a giggle as I abandoned the chess game and went over to him. "Hey, Wood," I greeted him casually, eyeing his appearance. "Thought you'd drowned yourself out there, the rest of the team's been up here for ages."

Oliver scowled at me, rolling his eyes. "I was going over plays," he retorted defensively, running a hand through his hair, water droplets flying and landing on my face. I wiped them away with a hint of irritation, though he didn't seem to notice. His lips were barely moving and a concentrated frown had set on his face.

I slapped his arm lightly. He jumped, his eyes widening, and he looked at me. "Wood," I started, pursing my lips, "you scare me when you talk to yourself."

"Oh, shut up, Locke," he told me lightly, reaching a hand out to swat me gently on the hand, but I backed away automatically, in no mood to get all dirty.

"Go take a shower!" I urged him, wanting to give him a small push in the direction of the dormitory, but deciding against it. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I surveyed the back of his robes, which were absolutely filthy, and positively drenched.

Looking at me reproachfully, he then headed up to the boys' dormitory, and I sighed, resuming my seat across from Sara, who was now staring off in space, a glazed look coming across her face.

He had prepared long and hard for this Quidditch match, and though I didn't care for the sport, he was my best friend, and on the morning of the match, I was as anxious and nervous as he was.

"Eat something," I urged him the next morning at breakfast, while he kept annoying his fellow teammates to get some food into their stomachs. I looked at him before glancing back at my plate of untouched food. We seemed to be doing the same thing.

"Wood," I said sternly and he turned to me.

"No, Eloise," he said firmly, and I didn't say anything else; he hardly ever used my first name, and when he did, it meant something. I knew not to bother him any more.

Wood and I had been friends since first year, and we were very, very close. I could confide in him for anything, as he could for me. He had started to get very overprotective, I thought; the few recent boyfriends I'd had he'd glared at almost all the time and muttered stupid things about them under his breath. Still, we remained the best of friends.

After another painful fifteen minutes of pushing my food around on my plate, I bid him good luck, and with Sara, made my way out onto the pitch and headed for the stands. I was shivering within minutes from the cold; the wind howled as it blew forcefully and the rain lashed out harshly. I was terribly anxious now; I hoped that the Gryffindor team would be able to fly in this weather.

Sara and I found our seats, and we huddled together, waiting for the match to start. We were playing against Hufflepuff, and as the Gryffindor players made their way onto the pitch, I screamed so loudly that I was afraid I'd render myself hoarse. I joined along in the booing from our end as the Hufflepuff's came out, and heard Sara doing the same beside me.

Soon, they were off, soaring high up in the air. It was hard to see them, and I was squinting the whole time. I wondered vaguely how Harry was going to see the Snitch in this weather.

Sara and I watched in silence, now frozen to the bone. I clamped my mouth shut to keep from shivering uncontrollably. A sudden flash of lightening appeared in the sky and my friend and I both jumped, letting out small screams of fright. I saw Wood call for a time out, and then a small figure slip onto the pitch and join them. I leaned out of my seat even further and recognized the girl as Hermione Granger, one of Harry's good friends.

Soon, they were up and flying again, and I was biting my lip, a small frown on my face as I watched the two teams play. No one had caught the Snitch yet; it was between Harry and Cedric Diggory.

I was watching Wood, who, being Keeper, was guarding the hoops, when Sara let out a shriek and nudged me so that I would look in a certain direction. I followed her gaze only to make out Harry falling swiftly through the sky.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, horrified. My eyes wide, I looked around quickly, and felt relief wash over me as I saw Professor Dumbledore point his wand up to Harry so that the boy fell down less quickly. He was standing on the pitch, and from what I could make out, had a furious expression on my face.

All around me girls were screaming, some almost crying, and boys were looking dumbstruck. Sara was whimpering beside me, biting her nails; a bad habit that she had never been able to break.

Merlin, I hoped that he would be okay.

To my immense relief (and to others, too), Harry was just fine. Dumbledore was terribly angry with the Dementors, I had never seen him as mad as he was now. Harry was taken to the Hospital Wing, and the rest of the team trudged after him, admitting defeat. Cedric had caught the Snitch right before Harry had fallen.

As we followed the crowd that was getting up from the stands, I couldn't help but notice (though it was hard to with all the rain) that Oliver seemed to be walking towards the changing rooms. I rolled my eyes, and told Sara that I'd catch up with her later. Ignoring her questioning look, I wormed my way around students and made off towards the changing rooms, grateful that no one had seen me slip away.

I was even more soaked than before, and I was positive that I had gotten frostbite. My hands were purple from the cold, my feet numb, and my teeth chattering incessantly. Still, I ploughed on, trying to see through the sheet of rain, and the occasional claps of thunder and lightening.

Finally I reached the changing rooms, and I quickly walked in. Immediately I began to feel warmer, and as I looked around, I heard the sound of a shower running. I walked over to the source of the noise.

"Not trying to drown yourself in there, are you?" I asked dryly. I obtained no response, but waited patiently outside the shower, waiting for him to finish. I waited there for ten minutes, now positively sure that he was attempting to commit suicide by drowning himself. Right as I opened my mouth to snap at him, though, the water turned off, and out came Wood, a towel around his waist, his hair wet, glaring at me.

I tried not to focus on the fact that he was half naked, and that years of Quidditch had obviously done him good. He was toned, and definitely looked very strong. He was my best friend, though, I reminded myself as I ducked so that he wouldn't see me blushing. I wasn't supposed to think of my best friend that way.

"We lost," he said heavily after a moment, just staring at me. I stared back at him, the blush from my cheeks gone.

"I've realized," I retorted, but seeing the look on his face, softened my tone. "Listen, Wood, you did great out there – those stupid Dementors were trying to hurt Harry, nothing can be done. It's not your fault. And plus, you'll have another shot at the Quidditch Cup, you're not out of the running yet." I gave him a comforting smile. It was weird for me to act so worried and comforting, but at times like these, I couldn't help it.

Oliver looked at me like I'd just sprouted an extra head, and my expression changed to one of annoyance. "Get your bloody clothes on, Wood," I growled. "We're going to see how Mr. Potter's doing."

I walked around the changing rooms while he changed, giving him his privacy. When he had put on his school robes I sidled back up to him, noticing that he hadn't bothered to come his hair.

"Thanks, Locke," he said, and I looked at him with surprise, not having expected him to say any words of thanks. I nodded wordlessly. "You head up to the common room, okay? I'm going to go visit Harry." A grin spread across my face, and I muttered, "That's my boy." Rolling his eyes at me, he bent down and kissed me on the cheek, ignoring his red cheeks as he did so.

With that, he walked out of the changing rooms, and I stared after him, dumbstruck and confused, touching the spot on my cheek where he had kissed me, and wondering exactly what was going on.

A/N: My first attempt at Oliver/OC : Hope you liked it! It's just the beginning, there'll be more soon. Please remember to review, too, I love feedback.

xo Forgotten Angel4