This is the second chapter of my story Like Beaters Bats to Bludgers. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just a Slytherin Quidditch Jumper. I do however own The Burrtown Badgers, so if you want to use them, PM me and you will probably get my permeation to use them. As always, read and review. Enjoy!

-LINE BREAK-

It takes half an hour before James quits muttering under his breath and begins to calm down. He is still furious, but at least that is an improvement over murderous. But all the problems are Wood's fault. Yes, Puddlemere is down a keeper, but it wouldn't have happened if Wood had just sucked up his pride and lied. Although, in retrospect, Bernaw can see how Wood might have taken offence to that idea. Or any of the insults that followed. Did I really call him a bent bowtruckle that couldn't tell its ass from a quaffle? With an internal cringe that may have made its way onto his face, James Bernaw leaps from his chair and grabs up a blank roll of parchment. Hurrying out of his office, Bernaw jumps into the nearest available floo that he can find.

The rehearsed apology that Bernaw had planned in the thirty seconds it took to get to Woods house dies on his lips upon entering Woods kitchen and is quickly drowned out by the sound of laughter coming from Helga and the snorting laugh that Oliver makes into his tea cup.

"Too late, love," Helga manages to choke out in between laughs "Afraid he has already signed with me."

The choked sound that emanates from Bernaw's throat only serves to make the pair laugh harder.

OWMFOWMFOWMF

It was decided by Helga that Oliver would meet the team that night to celebrate his signing at a little pub called Orion's around seven. Oliver was familiar with the place, good food, not too loud, although Helga assured him that once the team got there the noise level would change.

Seven o'clock rolls around too soon for Oliver's liking, and he finds himself standing just inside the door of the pub, scanning the crowd.

"Ollie!" Cries Helga when Oliver spots her and another witch sitting in the far corner booth, waving him over.

"Good to see you again Helga,"

"Back at you, Wood." Helga greets with a smile.

"Bugger me, Helga. You told me you got a replacement Keeper, you didn't say you were replacing me with Oliver Wood!" The other woman exclaims as Oliver takes a seat on the other side of the booth.

"You must be Alice Wildman than," Oliver says, extending a hand over the table.

"In the flesh," Alice grins.

"Helga tells me you are expecting. How far along are you?"

"I am, yes. Twins. About a month and a half. My husband is so excited." And Alice was off telling pregnancy stories and talking about the joys of being first time expecting parents.

"You know I always thought nesting was something the mother did, but with the way my husband is acting-"

"Butterfingers!" Helga shouts, arms waving over her head, effectively cutting Alice off mid sentence.

Butterfingers, it turns out is another member of the team. A small Irish Woman with short blonde hair, Oliver finds her sliding into the booth next to him.

"Lee Anne Conners," the blonde says shaking Oliver's hand, "But call me Butterfingers, everyone does."

Soon enough the rest of the team arrives, Joing Au from London, Mally Jones from America, Jean Oget a burly frenchman from Normandy, Catherine McDonnell from Glasgow, and Louise Maxwell from Liverpool.

"Andy and Matt say hello and sorry that they can't be here, but that they will see us on the pitch next practice." Mally says to the table at large, and upon seeing Oliver's face she adds "Andrew Johnson and Matthew Hayes, our reserve Chasers."

"What position do you play Mally?"

The American grins, "Au, Oget and I are chasers." The Frenchman nods around his Butterbeer.

"What about you Lou?"

"Cath and I are beaters. You already know our reserve beater Helga."

Talk dies down once the food came out, but not for long.

"I've been meaning to ask," Oliver says around a mouthful of fish and chips, nudging Butterfingers with his elbow, "How did you get to be a seeker with a name of Butterfingers?"

"Easy," the blonde responds, "I got the job before the name."

"You know better than most that many people didn't get through the war unscathed," Helga jumps in. "About three months into the New regime she was cornered by a group of Snatchers. Had to fight her way out."

"All things considered, I was lucky. The only thing I was hit with was a modified Digitorum Cadnut. Its not a nice jinks, makes your fingers fall off, but it could have been worse." Butterfingers continues. "Lucky or not, I still needed a place to stay while my fingers grew back, hurt like a bitch let me tell you, so I crashed at Helga's."

"One night over dinner after my fingers had grown back, we learned what Digitorum had been crossed with. I swear to Merlin and Morgana, I don't know how these two spells were mixed, but it turns out Digitorum was crossed with Sternumenta." Oliver chokes on his drink.

"It was mixed with the sneezing hex?" He asks incredulously once he can breath again.

"Aye," laughs Lee Ann, "You can see where this is going, can't you? So we were sitting there at the dinner table and as I reach over to grab a plate of something, I sneeze, and my fingers - my pointer and middle fingers on both hands - fall off and into the butter dish. Hence Butterfingers."

The night ends around eleven, and the group begins to split up each with a designated apparatior (because apparating while drunk is like begging to be splinched). Alice grabs hold of Mally and Oget says her goodbyes and disappears with a POP. Joing gives Oliver a hug before taking Catherine and Louise by the elbows and turns on the spot. Helga and Butterfingers are standing by the floo ready to leave.

"Remember, Butterfingers will be flooing into your kitchen around twelve tomorrow to take you to get fit for your Quidditch robes." Helga says with a quick hug.

"I will also be getting your official statement for the press while we are out. Do you have any requests as to which paper you want the statement to go to or who you want to do the interview?" Lee Anne asks from where she is leaning on the fireplace mantle.

"Anyone other than The Profit and Skeeter," Oliver responds.

Lee Anne snorts, "Aye, I think I can manage that. How do you feel about The Morning Scry?"

Oliver considers for a moment, The Morning Scry is not a very large paper, but then again every other paper is small in comparison to The Profit.

"I don't really read The Scry, but from what I have read it seems to be reputable."

"The Scry it is then," Butterfingers says, clapping her hands together.

"Alright you two, I'm off." Helga interjects, giving the keeper and seeker one last hug before stepping into the floo and vanishing in a rush of green fire.

"I know Helga said to expect me around twelve, but I will probably be at your house around ten to discuss how the interview will go." Butterfingers says as she backs into the fireplace, and with a two finger salute she disappears.

As Oliver stumbles out of his kitchen fireplace seconds later and to his bedroom, he has one thought on his mind. Not how I thought my day would go at all.