Run Hard, Fly High, Love Deep
Chapter 1
These are a few of her favorite things. An American transfer student captures Wood's heart with her daredevil stunts. But can he save her from the price on her head?
"It a personal honor to welcome you to Hogwarts, Emma. As you know your mother and I had been close even since she was a student of mine," Professor McGonagall said to the young lady sitting before her. Despite her odd dress, the American teen looked at home seated in the large red chair by the fire. Emma had always adjusted well. "I miss her very much," Minerva added sadly.
"So do I Aunt Minerva." Professor McGonagall smiled warmly at her. It felt as if her heart was being squeezed as she remembered how much the girl looked like her mother. The only difference was the color of her hair and eyes.
"Are you sure I'll be safe here?" Emma asked not being able to hide the concern.
"There is no place safer," the old witch assured her. She of course had to stop to consider. The safety of Hogwarts had waned since the arrival of Harry Potter. "But of course no where is absolute. You must always carry your wand and I have asked Professor Lupin, the defense against the dark arts Professor, to give you extra lessons after regular class times." Minerva paused and looked at Emma. She didn't even seem afraid. She was a born Griffindor.
"I understand," she answered politely.
"Good. Now I will take you to the common room and introduce you to your new roommates." She stood and enchanted Emma's things. In an unofficial sorting ceremony Emma had been of course been placed in Griffindor. It had hardly been a surprise even thought her parents had both been in Slytherin. Despite that Minerva had let out a sigh of relief when her house was called. With the arrival of a certain raven-haired boy they had grown accustomed to brushes with dark wizards. It would be safer for her. On the way out the door Emma grabbed her broom off the pile. She preferred to carry it.
As they walked down the halls and Emma could help but look around in awe. The cavernous hallways, though welcoming, were odd to her and made her feel like she had stepped into the medieval times. As they entered a stair way the paintings all around were trying to bid her welcome at once. She smiled at each of them and waved at the few that seemed desperate to get her attention. She even giggled and blushed at one who was making kissey faces at her.
Suddenly she pitched to the side as the staircase disconnected from the landing. As Emma clutched the railing uncertainly, Minerva stood calmly waiting for their path to resume.
"This school is much older than your previous one," said the professor as the staircase came to a rest. "Therefore you will find many surprises such as moving staircases and ghosts, for instance, but I'm sure you will adjust."
They arrived at a portrait of a fat pink lady and Minerva stopped giving Emma a quick appraising look.
"Must you wear that thing in your nose?" she sighed, her face scrunched up in disapproval. Emma could help but giggle as her hand went to the diamond stud.
"Mom always liked it." Minerva shook her head with a small smile. "She even took me to get it," Emma added.
"Yes, well your mother was always known for her odd tastes." Emma assumed this comment wasn't just about her fashion sense. "Quaffles and Snitches!" Minerva said to Emma's surprise, and the painting before her swung open. There were five girls sitting in the back of the room by a fire. They all looked up as the portrait open and a few jaws dropped in shock as Emma shyly stepped through.
"Thank you so much for waiting girls. This is Emma White. Emma this is Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, they are chasers for Griffindor, and this is Julia Thomas, and Lara Windit. I'll leave you to get acquainted." Minerva gave Emma a quick squeeze on the shoulder and left. Emma watched her exit through the portrait before turning to see excited faces.
"I've never heard of a transfer student before?"
"Do you play Quidditch?"
"Is that a Firebolt?" They questions were all coming at one and she held up her hand smiling.
"You'll have to slow down. I'm sorry I'm not use to your accents yet," she said trying to look more apologetic than amused. There was a second of stunned silence.
"Bloody hell! You're American!" said the girl she remember as Angelina.
"Yes, I am." She resisted replying with a cheeky comment.
"I don't think there's ever been an American at Hogwarts," Katie Bell said skeptically. "I've never even heard of a transfer student."
"Well I guess technically I'm neither. I'm still British but I grew up in America." Her accent wasn't completely American either, though they didn't notice; she had a slight tinge from her mother. "And I got my letter when I was eleven but it was . . . I couldn't come then. Aunt Minerva though it would be best if I came this year."
"Aunt Minerva?" came a snort.
"Well not an actually an aunt either," she said with a smile. She knew they must have only seen Professor McGonagall as a crotchety old teacher. "Just a close friend of my mother," she answered.
"As much as I'd like to stand here and learn more of your sordid past," said Angelina. "I do really, don't get me wrong," she said sincerely. "But I'm hungry so lets go to dinner, we can talk there just as well." The Griffindor sixth year girls waited as Katie showed Emma to their room and charmed her trunk to follow. A new bed had magically appeared and the girls scooted the trunk against it.
The pack giggled all the way down to the main hall and Emma was bombarded with questions about America, especially the boys. She was beginning to get overwhelmed and was glad when they reached the large golden doors signaling their arrival at the great hall.
The three chasers dramatically stepped forward and threw them open. Not thinking anything of it, Emma walked out from the group and instantly she wished she hadn't. A hush fell over the hall. At that moment she decided she probably should have changed. She was had worn her old school uniform which was completely muggle. It consisted of a white button up shirt with a black v-neck sweater decked with the school crest, black and purple plaid pleated skirt, white knee-highs, and chunky Mary Jane Doc Martins. With the nose stud and long white blond hair she must have looked like a Goth or at least that she belonged in Slytherin. After a moment of doing an impression of a deer in headlights, Katie proudly took her arm and led her to a table decked with maroon and gold students. Conversation had started again, though she could tell much of it was about her.
The five girls split into the respective clicks, saying their farewells, and Emma was lead to what she knew must be the Quidditch players. They were always the loudest group in any school. One of which was probably the only boy not to notice her arrival because he was huddled over parchment muttering fiercely to himself, "No that won't work," he said as he scribbled out a small drawing. Emma leaned over the table to see what he was sketching, but it all was a mass of unintelligible doodles. He unconsciously placed his arm in the way and pulled the paper closer to him. Kate leaned over and whispered in Emma's ear.
"Don't take it personally Emma. He doesn't even let us see his Quidditch notes." At the magic word Oliver's head popped up.
"What?" he said momentarily confused. He looked around to see who had uttered his middle name before setting on the person who was staring at him from directly across the table. Despite her doe eyed innocent expression, he frowned suspiciously and pulled his notes into his lap. "Who are you? A Slytherin spy?" Emma laughed delightedly at his fierceness.
"You'll have to forgive Wood," Angelina insisted as she threw a pea off her plate at him. "He has no manners. This is Emma. She's a transfer from American. She has a Firebolt." She said dramatically and with the magic word and his suspicion was replaced with interest.
"Ah a Firebolt. Really!" he exclaimed. "Do you play Quidditch?"
"Yes I was a Keeper back home," she said smiling. Wood was about to speak when suddenly a red head boy shouted.
"Hey you're an American!" There was suddenly silence in their part of the hall as several Griffindors waited for her to speak.
"Yes, very observant of you," she teased.
"He tries," came a response from next to him. There were two of them! The second red head stood up and held out a hand. "I'm Fred, this is my brother George. We're beaters on the team."
"And I'm guessing very good ones," Emma said as she shook their hands, sending them a killer smile, which turned them red enough to match their hair. "We had twin beaters on our team too. Girls named Helga and Ingrid. They had these massive biceps." She was holding up her hands in demonstration when she saw a peculiar look in Wood's eyes. "What is it?"
"Your hair and your eyes," he whispered but of course the whole team strained to hear him. Wood turned to look across the hall and the team followed his gaze. There at another table was a boy with the same steely grey eyes and fantastically white blond hair. Emma instantly started to choke on the pumpkin juice she was in the process of sipping. She received a few well meaning pounds on the back, that she was sure would leave bruises.
"Sorry I thought it was water," she explained when she got her breath back. They accepted it, however, there were two who saw the look of shock in Emma's eyes when she spotted Malfoy.
After an exhausting Q&A session in the common room where she artfully deflected questions, Emma excused herself just after dark to go to bed. But she had no intention of sleeping. She carefully listened for footsteps before closing the drapes to her bed and grabbing her broom and a Quidditch handkerchief, it had little crisscrossed brooms with her number and last name embroidered on it. It was a gift from her mom when she made the team.
She tiptoed to the window, even though stone floors made little noise, and opened it. She crouched down and sat on the edge. The wind was soft and cool as it blew the hair around her face. She closed her eyes and sighed. It was late into fall but the air was still warm. She tied the handkerchief over her hair and leapt from the window. As she fell, she brought her broom beneath her. She was flying.
'The stadium was a lot like the one at home,' she thought as she raced between the stands. The only difference being that the stadium at her old school was all purple and black. This had different colored stands for each house. Alicia explained earlier that each house had a team. They seemed shocked when she said her old team traveled to other wizarding schools to play. She made a few laps before settling into her drills, just because the Quidditch team was full here did mean she was going to let herself get rusty. It had been weeks since she had flown and with the light breeze and quickness of her broom she felt her worries floating away, at least for a while.
Fred and George were deep into a game of exploding snap, Oliver beside them with his miniature Quidditch field, of course muttering to himself, when Fred suddenly looked up and outside.
"Hey Wood I think there's somebody on the pitch."
"What?" the captain exclaimed. He leaped out of his chair to look. Sure enough in the moonlight he could see a figure darting around with a glowing ball. "Slytherins," he said with disgust. He pushed back his chair and stalked out of the common room. Fred and George just shrugged and went back to their game. Normally they wouldn't give up a chance to annoy their rivals but they were planning something for tomorrow night and they couldn't use the detention. It looked like one person after all; Wood could handle it. A few seconds later, a spark flew from the common room fire, igniting a card and the whole game exploded, scorching everything in the vicinity.
"Good thing I hadn't started on my potions essay!" Fred said grinning with singed piece of parchment in his hands.
"Fancy another game dear brother?" George asked cordially.
"But of course."
In the meanwhile Wood was huffing across the field ready to give Marcus Flint, or whoever it was a piece of his mind. He grabbed his broom out of the shed and was about to take flight when he noticed that not only was there only one person in the air but that person was too small to be Marcus Flint or any other Slytherin. Well Malfoy was smaller, he reasoned, but this looked like a girl and Slytherin didn't have any girl players. He took a seat in the stands and watched as the flyer zoomed around producing the most amazing aerials. They conjured a glowing orb and Wood watched as they practiced keeper drills. They weren't drills he knew but instantly he identified the mysterious flyer as Emma. She was frankly, amazing, but not as good as him, of course. She had a typical problem she was slower to turn left and sometimes simply turned completely the to avoid it. It was a balance issue that could be worked on but it impaired many amateur Quidditch players. After a time of watching he decided to join in. However, as he stood the little blue flame he had conjured in a jar for heat, fell out of his pocket and shattered. He looked out at Emma and saw her frozen in the air, letting the glowing Quaffle through the goal. The blue fire even gave her a location to stare at. She took off.
He quickly extinguished the fire and grabbed his broom. But she spotted him and when she reached the castle she darted around the turrets trying to loose him. She dropped into one of the courtyards and they were flying through an outdoor hallway. Sweat was starting to appear on Oliver's forehead. He was so nervous about being caught that he nearly missed her turn and the wall she was avoiding. He, at least, would be easily recognized even at the speed they were traveling. She suddenly turned off into the courtyard and zoomed high into the air. Over the lawn she sped and Wood couldn't help but think what a great seeker she would make. It was at the great lake that she suddenly dived. Oh no! He wasn't going to fall for that! Wronskei Fein. This dark it would be nearly impossible to judge the distance to the water. He stayed aloft as she stopped what looked like mere inches from the water and spiraled up. Her hand released the broom and his heart leapt. There was a terrifying moment when he thought she was going to fall. But she grabbed the broom and completed a loop de loop while he watched in awe. They only person he had seen attempt that had fallen. She turned suddenly and zooming off towards the castle. Wood dropped back as he realized how fast she was approaching a tower. Not just any tower, Griffindor tower. "Emma No!" he shouted and he turned at the last minute to circle around and loose speed.
Hermione let out a small squeak of surprise as a figure swept through the open window of the common room. The flyer echoed her squeal as she had touched down but her momentum was too great and she was sliding across the stone room despite her best efforts.
"Impedimenta!" Emma stopped suddenly just a few inches short of the wall. She let out a startled gasp of relief and was panting dramatically from the breath she had been holding. Hermione quickly released her from the spell and she dropped to the floor with the clatter of a broomstick. Fred and George, the only other inhabitants of the common room looked at Emma with awe and a not a little admiration. "Wicked!" they exclaimed together.
Emma got to her feet and mouthed thanks to Hermione and held a finger to her mouth, a shushing sign in front of her smirk, as darted she to the girl's stair well. She flattened herself against the wall as soon as she was out of sight. She heard a whoosh and the twin's cheers before they began to talk at once.
"Wood! You should had seen it."
"She almost hit the wall but Hermione stopped her." Emma's clasped a hand over to mouth to smother her giggle.
"Can we try it please!?" Wood hushed them as his eyes narrowed. He could have sworn he heard something.
"Thanks Hermione," Wood said sincerely. "Where did she go?"
"Out the portrait," Hermione said as she pointed to the stairs with a smile. Wood grinned.
"Bugger, well it's late so I'll just be off to bed. Good night then," he said as he gestured for the twins to head towards the boy's dormitory. They got the hint and smiled and pretended to be talking to him as they noisily climbed the stairs. In the meanwhile he tiptoed towards the girl's dormitory.
Emma, thinking she was safe, turned to go when suddenly she was grabbed from behind.
"Gotcha!" Wood exclaimed as he spun her, she let out a squeal and started to giggle with delight. He set her down and she turned to face him. "If we had been caught, I would have gotten in some major trouble," he said half seriously.
"Yes. Sorry captain," she said with a mock salute.
"Take this seriously," he laughed as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "I though you were going to kill yourself with that stunt."
"I nearly did," she said, her giggles calming. "I was this close to being plastering to the wall," she said with the appropriate hand gesture. "Lucky Hermione was there."
"Yes lucky," he said as he shuffled a little closer to her. She recognized the glint in his eyes and she could feel her insides fluttering. The adrenaline was still pounding in her ears from their flight turning her brains to fuzz and there he stood just mere inches away. She licked her lips as her breathing deepened in anticipation and he mirrored her. Emma couldn't stand it anymore and jumped him, wrapping her arms around him and enveloping him in a smoldering kiss. He was like a drug, like catnip, and she just couldn't stop kissing him. She found herself lying on the stairs with him on top and his hands tangled in her hair. For a second they pulled away and she looked deep into his eyes. She knew that haze, he was so gone. She kissed him again, with no less passion, as she slipped out from beneath him. She heard his groan of disappointment as she grabbed her broom and bounced up the stairs. "Goodnight Oliver," she practically sang. Calling him 'Wood' seemed a bit inappropriate at the time.
Oliver glided into the common in a daze. He still had her bandana clutched in his hand from when he had pulled it free. His hair was sticking on end and his mouth was a little pinker but the only one to notice was Hermione and she simply smiled and slouched down into her book to hide her blush.
These are a few of her favorite things. An American transfer student captures Wood's heart with her daredevil stunts. But can he save her from the price on her head?
"It a personal honor to welcome you to Hogwarts, Emma. As you know your mother and I had been close even since she was a student of mine," Professor McGonagall said to the young lady sitting before her. Despite her odd dress, the American teen looked at home seated in the large red chair by the fire. Emma had always adjusted well. "I miss her very much," Minerva added sadly.
"So do I Aunt Minerva." Professor McGonagall smiled warmly at her. It felt as if her heart was being squeezed as she remembered how much the girl looked like her mother. The only difference was the color of her hair and eyes.
"Are you sure I'll be safe here?" Emma asked not being able to hide the concern.
"There is no place safer," the old witch assured her. She of course had to stop to consider. The safety of Hogwarts had waned since the arrival of Harry Potter. "But of course no where is absolute. You must always carry your wand and I have asked Professor Lupin, the defense against the dark arts Professor, to give you extra lessons after regular class times." Minerva paused and looked at Emma. She didn't even seem afraid. She was a born Griffindor.
"I understand," she answered politely.
"Good. Now I will take you to the common room and introduce you to your new roommates." She stood and enchanted Emma's things. In an unofficial sorting ceremony Emma had been of course been placed in Griffindor. It had hardly been a surprise even thought her parents had both been in Slytherin. Despite that Minerva had let out a sigh of relief when her house was called. With the arrival of a certain raven-haired boy they had grown accustomed to brushes with dark wizards. It would be safer for her. On the way out the door Emma grabbed her broom off the pile. She preferred to carry it.
As they walked down the halls and Emma could help but look around in awe. The cavernous hallways, though welcoming, were odd to her and made her feel like she had stepped into the medieval times. As they entered a stair way the paintings all around were trying to bid her welcome at once. She smiled at each of them and waved at the few that seemed desperate to get her attention. She even giggled and blushed at one who was making kissey faces at her.
Suddenly she pitched to the side as the staircase disconnected from the landing. As Emma clutched the railing uncertainly, Minerva stood calmly waiting for their path to resume.
"This school is much older than your previous one," said the professor as the staircase came to a rest. "Therefore you will find many surprises such as moving staircases and ghosts, for instance, but I'm sure you will adjust."
They arrived at a portrait of a fat pink lady and Minerva stopped giving Emma a quick appraising look.
"Must you wear that thing in your nose?" she sighed, her face scrunched up in disapproval. Emma could help but giggle as her hand went to the diamond stud.
"Mom always liked it." Minerva shook her head with a small smile. "She even took me to get it," Emma added.
"Yes, well your mother was always known for her odd tastes." Emma assumed this comment wasn't just about her fashion sense. "Quaffles and Snitches!" Minerva said to Emma's surprise, and the painting before her swung open. There were five girls sitting in the back of the room by a fire. They all looked up as the portrait open and a few jaws dropped in shock as Emma shyly stepped through.
"Thank you so much for waiting girls. This is Emma White. Emma this is Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, they are chasers for Griffindor, and this is Julia Thomas, and Lara Windit. I'll leave you to get acquainted." Minerva gave Emma a quick squeeze on the shoulder and left. Emma watched her exit through the portrait before turning to see excited faces.
"I've never heard of a transfer student before?"
"Do you play Quidditch?"
"Is that a Firebolt?" They questions were all coming at one and she held up her hand smiling.
"You'll have to slow down. I'm sorry I'm not use to your accents yet," she said trying to look more apologetic than amused. There was a second of stunned silence.
"Bloody hell! You're American!" said the girl she remember as Angelina.
"Yes, I am." She resisted replying with a cheeky comment.
"I don't think there's ever been an American at Hogwarts," Katie Bell said skeptically. "I've never even heard of a transfer student."
"Well I guess technically I'm neither. I'm still British but I grew up in America." Her accent wasn't completely American either, though they didn't notice; she had a slight tinge from her mother. "And I got my letter when I was eleven but it was . . . I couldn't come then. Aunt Minerva though it would be best if I came this year."
"Aunt Minerva?" came a snort.
"Well not an actually an aunt either," she said with a smile. She knew they must have only seen Professor McGonagall as a crotchety old teacher. "Just a close friend of my mother," she answered.
"As much as I'd like to stand here and learn more of your sordid past," said Angelina. "I do really, don't get me wrong," she said sincerely. "But I'm hungry so lets go to dinner, we can talk there just as well." The Griffindor sixth year girls waited as Katie showed Emma to their room and charmed her trunk to follow. A new bed had magically appeared and the girls scooted the trunk against it.
The pack giggled all the way down to the main hall and Emma was bombarded with questions about America, especially the boys. She was beginning to get overwhelmed and was glad when they reached the large golden doors signaling their arrival at the great hall.
The three chasers dramatically stepped forward and threw them open. Not thinking anything of it, Emma walked out from the group and instantly she wished she hadn't. A hush fell over the hall. At that moment she decided she probably should have changed. She was had worn her old school uniform which was completely muggle. It consisted of a white button up shirt with a black v-neck sweater decked with the school crest, black and purple plaid pleated skirt, white knee-highs, and chunky Mary Jane Doc Martins. With the nose stud and long white blond hair she must have looked like a Goth or at least that she belonged in Slytherin. After a moment of doing an impression of a deer in headlights, Katie proudly took her arm and led her to a table decked with maroon and gold students. Conversation had started again, though she could tell much of it was about her.
The five girls split into the respective clicks, saying their farewells, and Emma was lead to what she knew must be the Quidditch players. They were always the loudest group in any school. One of which was probably the only boy not to notice her arrival because he was huddled over parchment muttering fiercely to himself, "No that won't work," he said as he scribbled out a small drawing. Emma leaned over the table to see what he was sketching, but it all was a mass of unintelligible doodles. He unconsciously placed his arm in the way and pulled the paper closer to him. Kate leaned over and whispered in Emma's ear.
"Don't take it personally Emma. He doesn't even let us see his Quidditch notes." At the magic word Oliver's head popped up.
"What?" he said momentarily confused. He looked around to see who had uttered his middle name before setting on the person who was staring at him from directly across the table. Despite her doe eyed innocent expression, he frowned suspiciously and pulled his notes into his lap. "Who are you? A Slytherin spy?" Emma laughed delightedly at his fierceness.
"You'll have to forgive Wood," Angelina insisted as she threw a pea off her plate at him. "He has no manners. This is Emma. She's a transfer from American. She has a Firebolt." She said dramatically and with the magic word and his suspicion was replaced with interest.
"Ah a Firebolt. Really!" he exclaimed. "Do you play Quidditch?"
"Yes I was a Keeper back home," she said smiling. Wood was about to speak when suddenly a red head boy shouted.
"Hey you're an American!" There was suddenly silence in their part of the hall as several Griffindors waited for her to speak.
"Yes, very observant of you," she teased.
"He tries," came a response from next to him. There were two of them! The second red head stood up and held out a hand. "I'm Fred, this is my brother George. We're beaters on the team."
"And I'm guessing very good ones," Emma said as she shook their hands, sending them a killer smile, which turned them red enough to match their hair. "We had twin beaters on our team too. Girls named Helga and Ingrid. They had these massive biceps." She was holding up her hands in demonstration when she saw a peculiar look in Wood's eyes. "What is it?"
"Your hair and your eyes," he whispered but of course the whole team strained to hear him. Wood turned to look across the hall and the team followed his gaze. There at another table was a boy with the same steely grey eyes and fantastically white blond hair. Emma instantly started to choke on the pumpkin juice she was in the process of sipping. She received a few well meaning pounds on the back, that she was sure would leave bruises.
"Sorry I thought it was water," she explained when she got her breath back. They accepted it, however, there were two who saw the look of shock in Emma's eyes when she spotted Malfoy.
After an exhausting Q&A session in the common room where she artfully deflected questions, Emma excused herself just after dark to go to bed. But she had no intention of sleeping. She carefully listened for footsteps before closing the drapes to her bed and grabbing her broom and a Quidditch handkerchief, it had little crisscrossed brooms with her number and last name embroidered on it. It was a gift from her mom when she made the team.
She tiptoed to the window, even though stone floors made little noise, and opened it. She crouched down and sat on the edge. The wind was soft and cool as it blew the hair around her face. She closed her eyes and sighed. It was late into fall but the air was still warm. She tied the handkerchief over her hair and leapt from the window. As she fell, she brought her broom beneath her. She was flying.
'The stadium was a lot like the one at home,' she thought as she raced between the stands. The only difference being that the stadium at her old school was all purple and black. This had different colored stands for each house. Alicia explained earlier that each house had a team. They seemed shocked when she said her old team traveled to other wizarding schools to play. She made a few laps before settling into her drills, just because the Quidditch team was full here did mean she was going to let herself get rusty. It had been weeks since she had flown and with the light breeze and quickness of her broom she felt her worries floating away, at least for a while.
Fred and George were deep into a game of exploding snap, Oliver beside them with his miniature Quidditch field, of course muttering to himself, when Fred suddenly looked up and outside.
"Hey Wood I think there's somebody on the pitch."
"What?" the captain exclaimed. He leaped out of his chair to look. Sure enough in the moonlight he could see a figure darting around with a glowing ball. "Slytherins," he said with disgust. He pushed back his chair and stalked out of the common room. Fred and George just shrugged and went back to their game. Normally they wouldn't give up a chance to annoy their rivals but they were planning something for tomorrow night and they couldn't use the detention. It looked like one person after all; Wood could handle it. A few seconds later, a spark flew from the common room fire, igniting a card and the whole game exploded, scorching everything in the vicinity.
"Good thing I hadn't started on my potions essay!" Fred said grinning with singed piece of parchment in his hands.
"Fancy another game dear brother?" George asked cordially.
"But of course."
In the meanwhile Wood was huffing across the field ready to give Marcus Flint, or whoever it was a piece of his mind. He grabbed his broom out of the shed and was about to take flight when he noticed that not only was there only one person in the air but that person was too small to be Marcus Flint or any other Slytherin. Well Malfoy was smaller, he reasoned, but this looked like a girl and Slytherin didn't have any girl players. He took a seat in the stands and watched as the flyer zoomed around producing the most amazing aerials. They conjured a glowing orb and Wood watched as they practiced keeper drills. They weren't drills he knew but instantly he identified the mysterious flyer as Emma. She was frankly, amazing, but not as good as him, of course. She had a typical problem she was slower to turn left and sometimes simply turned completely the to avoid it. It was a balance issue that could be worked on but it impaired many amateur Quidditch players. After a time of watching he decided to join in. However, as he stood the little blue flame he had conjured in a jar for heat, fell out of his pocket and shattered. He looked out at Emma and saw her frozen in the air, letting the glowing Quaffle through the goal. The blue fire even gave her a location to stare at. She took off.
He quickly extinguished the fire and grabbed his broom. But she spotted him and when she reached the castle she darted around the turrets trying to loose him. She dropped into one of the courtyards and they were flying through an outdoor hallway. Sweat was starting to appear on Oliver's forehead. He was so nervous about being caught that he nearly missed her turn and the wall she was avoiding. He, at least, would be easily recognized even at the speed they were traveling. She suddenly turned off into the courtyard and zoomed high into the air. Over the lawn she sped and Wood couldn't help but think what a great seeker she would make. It was at the great lake that she suddenly dived. Oh no! He wasn't going to fall for that! Wronskei Fein. This dark it would be nearly impossible to judge the distance to the water. He stayed aloft as she stopped what looked like mere inches from the water and spiraled up. Her hand released the broom and his heart leapt. There was a terrifying moment when he thought she was going to fall. But she grabbed the broom and completed a loop de loop while he watched in awe. They only person he had seen attempt that had fallen. She turned suddenly and zooming off towards the castle. Wood dropped back as he realized how fast she was approaching a tower. Not just any tower, Griffindor tower. "Emma No!" he shouted and he turned at the last minute to circle around and loose speed.
Hermione let out a small squeak of surprise as a figure swept through the open window of the common room. The flyer echoed her squeal as she had touched down but her momentum was too great and she was sliding across the stone room despite her best efforts.
"Impedimenta!" Emma stopped suddenly just a few inches short of the wall. She let out a startled gasp of relief and was panting dramatically from the breath she had been holding. Hermione quickly released her from the spell and she dropped to the floor with the clatter of a broomstick. Fred and George, the only other inhabitants of the common room looked at Emma with awe and a not a little admiration. "Wicked!" they exclaimed together.
Emma got to her feet and mouthed thanks to Hermione and held a finger to her mouth, a shushing sign in front of her smirk, as darted she to the girl's stair well. She flattened herself against the wall as soon as she was out of sight. She heard a whoosh and the twin's cheers before they began to talk at once.
"Wood! You should had seen it."
"She almost hit the wall but Hermione stopped her." Emma's clasped a hand over to mouth to smother her giggle.
"Can we try it please!?" Wood hushed them as his eyes narrowed. He could have sworn he heard something.
"Thanks Hermione," Wood said sincerely. "Where did she go?"
"Out the portrait," Hermione said as she pointed to the stairs with a smile. Wood grinned.
"Bugger, well it's late so I'll just be off to bed. Good night then," he said as he gestured for the twins to head towards the boy's dormitory. They got the hint and smiled and pretended to be talking to him as they noisily climbed the stairs. In the meanwhile he tiptoed towards the girl's dormitory.
Emma, thinking she was safe, turned to go when suddenly she was grabbed from behind.
"Gotcha!" Wood exclaimed as he spun her, she let out a squeal and started to giggle with delight. He set her down and she turned to face him. "If we had been caught, I would have gotten in some major trouble," he said half seriously.
"Yes. Sorry captain," she said with a mock salute.
"Take this seriously," he laughed as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "I though you were going to kill yourself with that stunt."
"I nearly did," she said, her giggles calming. "I was this close to being plastering to the wall," she said with the appropriate hand gesture. "Lucky Hermione was there."
"Yes lucky," he said as he shuffled a little closer to her. She recognized the glint in his eyes and she could feel her insides fluttering. The adrenaline was still pounding in her ears from their flight turning her brains to fuzz and there he stood just mere inches away. She licked her lips as her breathing deepened in anticipation and he mirrored her. Emma couldn't stand it anymore and jumped him, wrapping her arms around him and enveloping him in a smoldering kiss. He was like a drug, like catnip, and she just couldn't stop kissing him. She found herself lying on the stairs with him on top and his hands tangled in her hair. For a second they pulled away and she looked deep into his eyes. She knew that haze, he was so gone. She kissed him again, with no less passion, as she slipped out from beneath him. She heard his groan of disappointment as she grabbed her broom and bounced up the stairs. "Goodnight Oliver," she practically sang. Calling him 'Wood' seemed a bit inappropriate at the time.
Oliver glided into the common in a daze. He still had her bandana clutched in his hand from when he had pulled it free. His hair was sticking on end and his mouth was a little pinker but the only one to notice was Hermione and she simply smiled and slouched down into her book to hide her blush.