Summary:
Everyone knows that Oliver Wood has his eye on the prize, seeing that it's his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. They just never specified what prize: Ravenclaw Chaser, Roselyn Lane, or the Quidditch Cup.
Roselyn Lane always thought her seventh year would include winning the Quidditch Cup. She never thought it would include sneaking around with the Gryffindor Keeper.
"Eye on the prize, Lane!" Roselyn was constantly told by her father. He never said that the prize couldn't be a certain Scottish boy.
This Quidditch season is definitely going to be like no other.
Chapter One:
With the seventh and final year finally starting for Roselyn Lane she was more determined than ever to win the Quidditch Cup once more before she left. After the win of the cup in fifth year, when Potter was stuck in the hospital wing during the match against Gryffindor, it had given Rose the drive to want it even more now that she had gone crazy with the drive and determination that pushed her to go off the edge when it came to quidditch. The only thing standing in her way was the equally determined Gryffindor captain, Oliver Wood.
Oh, how that boy made her blood boil.
During her fourth year at Hogwarts he was the only one that had enough nerve to make fun of her being the only American in the school. Ever since that day Oliver's and Rose's relationship had been one of much discontent with the other. If you couldn't find the two duking it out on the quidditch pitch you could find them arguing in the various hallways throughout the large school.
Currently, Rose was situated at the middle of quidditch pitch, staring into the clear, blue sky when she heard a familiar chuckle come from behind her, and multiple pairs of feet marching up to her.
"What do you think you're doing here, Lane?" Oliver Wood asked when he and his team stood right in front of Rose.
"Well, Wood, I could ask you the same thing," Rose replied smartly.
"I asked first, Lane," Oliver hissed.
"I'm here waiting for my team, Wood. Going over some strategies until our practice." She glared at him, waiting for him to speak. When he made no attempt to reply she decided it would be best for her to speak instead. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get to the Ravenclaw locker room."
"Your strategies won't work, Lane. You know damn well that Gryffindor'll be winning the cup this year," Wood called after her as she pushed through the Gryffindor team.
Rose spun on her heels, and a wicked look crossed her face as she glared at the Gryffindor keeper. "That was almost funny, Wood," she spat. "If you think that Ravenclaw is just going to hand the cup to you then you're dead wrong. But then again, you've never been very bright, have you,Ollykins?" she taunted.
"Rosie, must you always pick on me?" he taunted in return.
"Don't be a prat, Wood," she replied, continuing to walk towards the Ravenclaw locker room where her team awaited her.
"You always want the last word, don't you, Lane?"
"Twat!" she called out, flicking her wrist back at him as if to shake off his previous comment.
Rose marched triumphantly away from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, glancing at the third year who had always treated her with kindness. As she walked past him he quickly mouthed, "Sorry". It had been such a quick movement of his lips that his team failed to notice.
"Thanks, Harry," she whispered back in response. She gave him a quick smile and continued to walk towards the large room where her team was waiting for her.
Rose was horrified when she walked into the room. The boys were jumping around, Cho was sitting in the corner staring dreamily at nothing, and Roger Davies, the boy that Rose thought fit of being assistant Captain, was doing nothing to stop the chaos that was happening around him.
"Hey!" Rose shouted, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and stare up at her. "What the hell are you guys doing? We're supposed to be putting everything into this season, not screwing around!"
"Just because you want to spite Wood," Andrew, a sixth year Chaser, muttered under his breath. He probably didn't mean for Rose to hear it, but she had picked up on it.
"Really Andrew? Do you not want to win the cup? Because I'm pretty sure the rest of the team does," Rose spat. "Plus for us seventh years," Rose began, looking in the direction of Jeremy and Jonathan, "it's our last chance to win the cup. You, Andrew, have another year to do that."
Andrew snorted in response, and Rose rolled her eyes before turning to the board in the front of the room. She began drawing out flight patterns for the chasers, describing in great detail of where to go and how to do it.
"What if someone gets in our way?" Jonathan asked. "It just seems like it's a lot of ducking and diving."
"That's the point, Jonathan. What house are we in?" she asked rhetorically.
"Ravenclaw," they all responded in unison.
"Exactly. Ravenclaw: house of the intelligent. That intelligence includes making some of the best strategies in the school. We would've won the cup last year if it hadn't been for the season getting cancelled," she said with a scowl forming on her face.
"Quidditch is basically your life," Cho stated. "What did you do without it?"
"I moped around, verbally abused some Slytherins... and Wood... and I concentrated on school, like any good Ravenclaw would," I answered her question.
"Leave it to Lane to scare some little kids with her words," Jeremy laughed.
"Shut up, Jeremy. For your information, they were fourth years, making them fifth years now. That's only a two year age difference," I stated.
"Whatever, Lane," he replied, rolling his eyes playfully. "So, do ya think Wood and his team are off the pitch yet?"
"Knowing him we'll have to kick him off the pitch," Rose replied, grabbing her broom from her locker and leading her team to the pitch.
Rose had been right. Even though it was well into their time on the pitch the Gryffindor team continued to fly around on their brooms, chasing after the snitch, throwing the quaffle around, and hitting the bludgers away from their teammates.
"Your times up, Wood!" Rose called to the boy that was guarding the hoops. Even though he was high up in the sky, Rose could still make out the movement his eyes made as he rolled them at her. "Seriously, Wood! We need to practice!"
Oliver rolled his eyes once more before he began to glide through the air down towards her. When his feet hit the ground he waved down his own team. "Your right, Lane. You do need to practice if you plan on beating us."
"Just get out of here, Wood. We can argue in Potions tomorrow, maybe even D.A.D.A, just to humor Lupin," I offered.
"Why not here, Lane? That way our teams can see what it's like to be in the middle of this little rivalry you've made up inside of your head," he argued.
"Made up, Oliver? Really? I'm pretty sure when you mocked me three years ago it wasn't just my imagination! Get off the pitch before I have to force you," Rose spat. She was just aching to hit him. If he didn't leave she would finally have a reason to.
"Three years ago, Roselyn. Get over it," he hissed.
That's it, Rose thought. She swung her arms back, ready to punch him, but when she tried he caught her fist before it could connect with his jaw.
Oliver pulled her into him with the hand that he had his own wrapped around. "Nice try, Rose, but you're going to have to do better than that," Oliver whispered into her ear. He threw her hand down and stalked off, leaving Rose stunned with what had just happened.
