A/N: I do not own HP or any of the characters from the books. I own Bryony, her family, and any other characters that you don't recognize. I will not be re-posting this for every chapter.

I hate Oliver Wood. That's the first thing that I tell anyone who asks me if I know him. He's a pompous ass and completely obsessed with Quidditch. He's also a Gryffindor. I am, naturally, a Ravenclaw. By the way, my name is Bryony Martin. I've known Oliver since we were small children. Our dads played quidditch together and then bought houses very near each other, so we've been thrown together a lot. It also helps that we're the same age. He's only a couple months older than I am, so we did a lot of things together, like homeschooling when we were small and going to Hogwarts.

We were best friends as children, playing around often. He taught me how to fly, though I avoid broomsticks for the most part now. I took a nasty fall and haven't really wanted to get on one since then. Then, we went to Hogwarts and got separated, but I really started to hate him when he forgot about me to play quidditch in second year. I've spent the last four years trying to forget that we were ever friends. Now, when we pass in the hall, we don't even acknowledge each other, which is a step up from hexing each other.

So, the summer before our sixth year was almost unbearable. He was strutting around like a peacock and telling everyone who would listen that he was sure to win the Quidditch cup thanks to his new star seeker, Harry Potter. I wanted to beat him over the head with a beater's bat. My Mum yelled at me when she found me searching for my dad's old bat in the attic, especially after she forced me to tell her why I wanted the thing in the first place.

My sister, Amy, got married at the end of the summer. She is six years older than I am and we really have nothing in common. She's perfect and I'm not. She finished healer training; I don't really want to be a healer, but it's what my parents have planned for me. She married the person that my parents wanted her to. I hate the guy they keep trying to set me up with. So, when Oliver and his parents, Stella and Duncan, arrived for the wedding, my parents, Leona and William, thrust us together. "Bryony, dear," said my mum, "you know Oliver Wood." I rolled my eyes at her. She knew we knew each other.

"Wood," I said, through gritted teeth.

"Martin," he replied, also sounding annoyed, and also rolling his eyes.

"Good, you're friends," Stella said, hopefully. Bless her; she had no idea that we really couldn't stand each other.

Oliver started to say something, but I cut him off. "That's right, Mrs. Wood," I said. "We'll be fine. Have a good evening."

I led him away from our beaming parents. "Why did you let them think that we like each other?" he asked when we were out of earshot.

"Because, my parents don't need to worry about us causing a scene today," I answered. "I'll agree to a truce for now and I promise not to hex you today. Tomorrow, I may try to kick your arse, but at least for a few hours, you're safe."

"Fine," he huffed. "But remember that I'm only doing this as a favor to our parents."

"Fair enough," I replied. "We should find our table." We glanced at the list and found our table. We both groaned when we realized that we were stuck at the children's table.

"Do you think they'll ever realize that we're not 6 anymore?" Oliver joked.

"Probably not," I groaned. "We should get this over with." I strode off toward our table and didn't notice that Oliver hadn't followed until he set two glasses down in front of me.

"Care to make the evening more interesting?" he offered. He had somehow procured a bottle of whiskey.

"Where did you get that?" I asked.

"From the bar," he answered. "Do you want a drink?" I was torn. I wanted a drink, but I also didn't want to drink with Oliver and his really gorgeous eyes. Damn, I shouldn't be thinking about his eyes. I have a boyfriend, who hasn't really written me all summer, but still…

"If I drink with you, will I still be allowed to hate you again later?" I asked.

"Hate me all you want, love," he answered. He poured us each a fair measure of whiskey and raised a glass, saying, "Cheers." He drank his entire glass in one shot. I started coughing. "It's a little strong if you're not used to it."

"Shut up," I ordered. We finished the bottle just as the dancing started. I was surprised when Oliver stood and offered me a hand.

"Come and dance," he ordered, but with the hint of asking. I didn't want to leave him standing, especially when a couple of the girls at the table were making eyes at him, so I took his outstretched hand and followed him to the dance floor.

We danced for an hour before we took a break to get another drink. "A toast to O.W.L. results," he offered; I agreed and we drank.

"How many O.W.L.s did you get?" I asked.

"Six," he answered. "You?"

"I'm impressed," I replied. "I got 8. I didn't pass Divination, thank Merlin. What did you get your O.W.L.s in?"

"Potions, Transfiguration, Defense, Charms, Astronomy, and Arithmancy," he answered. "Are you going to be in all of those classes?"

"Yeah," I answered. "I'm dropping Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and History of Magic." We stopped talking about classes and resumed dancing. The band had started to play a slow song and I started to leave, but Oliver grabbed my hand and pulled me in for another dance.

"You really look beautiful today," he said. "I'm sorry I've been a prat this summer."

"I've ignored you," I answered. "And thank you for the compliment." He was staring at my lips and started to pull me in closer. I suddenly remembered I had a boyfriend and pulled away quickly. In the process, I tripped over my dress and twisted my ankle.

"Let me help you out of here before our parents find out we're wasted," he offered. He picked me up and carried me to my bedroom. He sat on my bed with me, massaging my ankle. Again, our heads were very close together and he leaned in to kiss me.

"I need you to stop," I ordered. "You know I have a boyfriend." We sat in silence for a few moments, while he continued to rub my sore ankle. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I feel responsible for getting you drunk," he slurred.

"That's not it," I reasoned. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because I should be," he spat. "You could have just said 'Thank you, Oliver' and let it go." He shoved my feet out of his lap and stood quickly. "You'll want to ice that ankle."

"What would you know?" I asked, sarcastically.

"I know that I'm an athlete and have injured myself more than once," he answered. "But don't take my word for it." With that, he left me sitting on my bed, drunk and confused. He had been acting like he wanted to kiss me all day, but when I wouldn't let him do it, he got all mad and stormed out. I managed to wiggle out of my dress without assistance, so I changed into my pajamas and went to bed.

I woke the next morning, far too early for my liking, to my mother pounding on the door. "Where did you run off to last night?" she asked, barging in. It's nice that she waits for me to invite her.

"I twisted my ankle and came back here," I answered, trying to hide under my pillow. Damn the sun and its exceeding brightness.

"Oliver came with you," she stated. She had seen him carrying me out of the party.

"He carried me up here and left," I answered. "Now, for the love of Merlin, decent people are not up at this ungodly hour. Let me get back to sleep."

"Bryony, it's nearly noon," she said. "It's time to get up." I managed to pull myself out of my covers before she added, "And Oliver's here to see you." She smirked and left my room. There are times when I actually hate my mother.

I had just finished putting my bra on when Oliver let himself into my room. "Bloody hell, doesn't anybody wait for an invitation?" I shouted. "Get out!"

"Oh, sweet Merlin," he stammered. "I'm sorry." He was backing away, but very slowly.

I threw a stuffed bear at him and shouted again, "Get the bloody hell out of my room." My head was pounding and I suddenly wanted to throw up. I ran out of my room and shoved Oliver out of my way before reaching the bathroom and vomiting. Oliver followed and held my hair back.

"I came by to give you this," he said, sheepishly, handing me a vial.

"What is it?" I asked, my throat all scratchy.

"It's a hangover cure," he answered. "Drink it and stop the pounding in your head."

"Thanks," I said, downing the potion in one drink. It tasted mildly of strawberries. "Is there strawberry in this?" I asked, as the hives started forming all over me.

"It makes it taste better," he said.

"I'm allergic to strawberries, you ass!" I shouted, though my head had stopped pounding. I ran past him again to get an allergy potion before my throat closed. Meanwhile, my ankle felt like it was going to burst from all the running and I hadn't iced it.

"I'm so sorry," he called, following me to the kitchen.

"Just go away," I begged. "Every time you come near me, I seem to get sick somehow. So, please, just stay away from me."

"Sorry," he muttered before sadly walking out the door.

I almost felt guilty, but in the span of just over five minutes, he had seen me in just my bra and shorts, he had seen me vomit and then, he had given me a potion to which I was allergic. To top it off, my ankle still hadn't been iced from when I twisted it and I was in a lot of pain. My mother burst into my room. "What is going on?" she demanded.

"Well, Mum, Oliver doesn't knock or wait for a response before entering a room either," I said, seething with anger. "He barged in here and saw me in just my bra. Then, he followed me to the bathroom while I vomited and handed me a potion laced with strawberries. The hives had started to break out before I could get to the allergy potion."

"You lot are going to have to learn to get along," she said.

"Would you just go away?" I asked. "The day has gone from bad to worse and my ankle needs ice." I iced my ankle for a bit before finally venturing out of the sanctuary of my room. When I got downstairs, there was a note from Amy, scolding me for leaving her wedding early. Leave it to my sister to make my personal hell all about her.

My dad was waiting in the sitting room for me. "Dear, you should go and apologize to Oliver for being so rude earlier."

"Dad, did Mum tell you everything?" I asked. "I don't think I was rude in demanding that he get out of my room when I was practically naked. And I don't think I was being rude when I asked him to leave after he nearly poisoned me."

"Well, dear, you're not in trouble for throwing him out of your room, but he didn't know about your strawberry allergy," he said. "You are to go and apologize before you do anything else today."

In a huff, I walked over to the Wood's house and asked to see Oliver. He joined me in the sitting room a few moments after I arrived. "I'm sorry about yelling at you earlier," I said. "You didn't know about my strawberry allergy."

"That's it?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm not sorry for throwing you out of my room while I was changing," I reasoned. "You should have knocked and waited for a response." He started to retort, but I cut him off. "Look, I was ordered to come and apologize and I've done it. I'll see you at school." Then, I went home.