Oliver mounted his broom, eyes dutifully assessing the other team. Slytherin. His lip almost curled, but at the last minute he stopped himself. It wasn't good sportsmanship to glare at the enemy. the girl across from him didn't seem to care. She shot him a smirk, which he returned, causing her to raise her eyebrows.
"Captains, shake hands," Madam Hooch ordered.
Charlie Weasley stepped forward and grasped the hand of the Slytherin captain. They seemed to be doing their best to break the other's fingers to no avail.
"To your marks."
She tossed the Quaffle in the air, and Oliver had just enough time to see the Slytherin girl grab it before he darted for the goalposts. They were neck and neck, and Oliver knew he wouldn't beat her to the goals, so he made a wild jab at the Quaffle. So intent on beating him, the girl wasn't focusing. Miraculously, it worked. It was his turn to smirk as one of his teammates scooped it up.
"Better luck next time, love," he called.
She glowered at him before speeding away.
The rest of the game passed without incident. The score, gleefully broadcasted by Lee Jordan was steadily tilting in Gryffindor's direction, and Oliver had only let in a few goals. The Slytherin girl had the Quaffle high above him. Oliver waited for her to make her move. She raised her arm to throw it at the same time a bludger hurled by George Weasley came hurtling towards her. She must have seen it out of the corner of her eye because she fell off before it hit her, probably more instinct than anything.
It seemed to happen in slow motion. Oliver forgot that he was in a game and that twenty teachers in the crowd would save her. He positioned himself directly underneath her. Oliver thought he saw Dumbledore smile right before she dropped into his arms.
"What did you eat this morning, a ton of bricks?" he asked, readjusting her so they wouldn't both topple off.
"Just a bit of Felix Felicis."
He stared at her. "That's-"
"-a joke, Gryffy, but then I shouldn't have expected you to get it."
Instead of being annoyed, he had to conceal a grin at her humor. There was something about the dry way she said 'Gryffy' that made it impossible for him to hate her.
"Wood, what are you doing?" bellowed Fred Weasley, streaking past him.
"What am I supposed to do with her/"
It was then that he realized that the Marcus Flint had been continuously scoring for the past few minutes while he...
"You distracted me!" he accused her.
He could have sworn there was a twinkle in her eyes as she launched herself out of his arms on to her own broom, which had drifted closer.
"Better luck next time, Gryffy!" she called, heaving herself on to the broom.
Even with Charlie snatching the Snitch right from under the Slytherin Seeker's nose, he couldn't make up for the sixteen goals that Flint had made. Both Fred and George hadn't said a word and left for the showers, walking in time.
"Not your fault," Charlie said reassuringly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing-you haven't learned any spells to slow down gravity yet, have you?"
He shook his head mutely, doing the math. If Ravenclaw lost the next match to Hufflepuff and then Hufflepuff lost to Slytherin and Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw, they would have a chance at the championship.
"Well, then, you shouldn't feel bad."
He slumped dejectedly towards the castle, not bothering with a shower. What was the point if he wasn't going to leave his dorm for the next week?
"Hey, Gryffy!"
It was the Slytherin girl again. She smiled at him.
"I didn't get your name, before."
"Oliver. And you are?"
"Brook."
They stood in silence for a few seconds. Oliver scuffed the ground with his boot and Brook looked over her shoulder.
"Look, you know the Halloween Ball?"she asked.
Oliver nodded, not sure where this was going.
"You're supposed to come in costume,"she said.
He nodded again.
"Meet the phoenix in the Entrance Hall at six, got it, Gryffy?"
~o0o~
Oliver pulled the mask over his face and walked into the Entrance Hall, looking around a little suspiciously. He didn't know if the girl would keep her word, but there was a girl dressed in a phoenix costume, complete with fiery feathers and a beak over her face.
He strode up, as confident as he could and offered her his arm. She took it.
"So, Brook, got a last name?"
"Parkinson," she said, "but not for long if things keep going like they are."
He sent her a quizzical look, but realizing she couldn't see him, he asked, "Why?"
"My mum and dad are very into pureblood ideals. Not Death Eaters, no, they aren't brave enough for that. See, they've been trying to marry me off since I was about…erm, maybe eight? I can't really remember. They haven't been successful, of course. All my 'suitors' have come to the conclusion that I'm completely insane. I have absolutely nothing to do with that."
"Likely story," he snorted.
"As I said, it was not my fault they all ran screaming from the house. Anyway, ever since then, I've been at odds with my parents. They'll disown me eventually."
He smiled. "I'd rather be disowned then…"
"Yeah," she agreed. "Still, they're family."
Oliver had a surprisingly fun time dancing that night. Neither of them were particularly good at it: Quidditch didn't make one very quick on their feet. Still, they laughed as they stepped on each other's toes. Finally, the last song played and they headed for the Entrance Hall.
"Night," he said.
And to his complete shock, she pulled her mask off in full view of everyone and snatched his from his face before leaning and kissing him gently on the lips.
"See you around, Gryffy," she said, skipping off.
Oliver went bright red and fled for his dorm before the Slytherin boys standing near him could murder him for stealing one of their own.
He'd found himself a very dangerous girlfriend indeed.
On the Halloween Ball, it is my personal headcanon that there was a ball, yearly, at Hogwarts that students above fourth year could attend, much like the Yule Ball. Harry was not allowed to go his first, second or third years, and he didn't hear anything about it because it was cancelled due to troll attack, baskillisk attack and an escaped convict respectively. In his fourth year, it was replaced by the Yule Ball and Dumbledore didn't hold it in years five and six becuase of the brewing war, and I don't think it likely that Snape reinstated the tradition.