Chapter 2 ~ The Wizard
Oliver Wood, a burly young boy, opened his eyes. He had been asleep in his bedroom for several hours, but woke up once again to his parents fighting.
"Now isn't life perfect," he mumbled sarcastically as he twisted and turned in his bed. He glanced at his clock through his tired eyes. It was four in the morning. "How can my parents fight this long?" he wondered, trying without success to fall asleep once again. "Why can't I be where I belong?"
Where he felt he belonged was in Hogwarts, where he had just ended his second year. Hogwarts was a school for witchcraft and wizardry, and Oliver Wood, who had just turned thirteen in March, attended that school. Oliver Wood was a wizard, and was very popular in his school. Many young girls thought he was handsome, so they followed him around all the time. Many young boys thought that he was an excellent keeper, so they followed him around all the time.
He wanted to become captain for his school house, Gryffindor. He remembered, in his first year, when the sorting hat had been placed on his head and sorted him into Gryffindor. It was the house for the courageous and adventurous. When the sorting hat had been placed on his head, he was terrified. His parents told him he was a wizard when he was nine, but that he could only attend a wizard school when he was ten years of age.
He knew what was coming. Spells, enchantments, different sort of things than what he had experienced in his younger years. But, still, he couldn't help feeling terrified.
Now, as he came into the summer holidays after the second year of attending that school he wasn't terrified at all. He had learned fascinating things, and had made fascinating friends. He was amazed on how different things were than from his old elementary school.
His favourite thing since attending that school was Quidditch. It was an extraordinary game, played on broomsticks, and he was obsessed with it. His least favourite thing was attending Potions class, taught by greasy and mean Professor Snape, but besides that, going to Hogwarts was heaven.
And now he was in hell. Since he came back from Hogwarts he had been stuck with his parents, who had forbid him to ride on his broomstick because of all the "Muggles" that lived out there. "Muggles", as his parents explained, were non-magic folk, and even though they had no magical powers, they were evil, dangerous, and desperate people.
Oliver didn't see anything wrong with them. After all, he had spent most of his life with them before he had been accepted into Hogwarts. And even though he promised that he would only ride it in the backyard, they had still forbidden it.
Oliver's parents were nice and kind, but very strict. They had a wonderful yet small house, but Oliver longed for the wonderful and enormous Hogwarts castle, once again out of his parent's rules and commands.
"Get out, get out right now!" he heard his mother cry.
"But…but Janine, it's four in the morning!" his father protested.
"I don't care what time it is!" Janine bellowed. "Get out right now Paul! This has gone far enough!"
Oliver took off his bed covers and opened the door a tiny smidge so he could get a clear view of exactly what his parents were arguing about.
"You know that this means everything to him, Paul!" Janine hollered. "And yet, you still do silly things!" She pointed to a small piece of parchment, which was almost burnt to a crisp.
"I…I accidentally left my cigarette on top of it!" Paul insisted.
"This is his book lists for the next term!" Janine cried. "How is he supposed to get his supplies now?"
"He's not supposed to get his letter that early!" Paul told her. "He's supposed to get it on the thirty-first, isn't he?"
"Does it really matter what date it's sent on?" his mother snapped. "I'm going to have to write a letter to Dumbledore to get another one because of my stupid foolish husband who leaves his cigarette on top of it and burns his book supply list to a crisp!"
"Hey!" Paul exclaimed. "That rhymes!"
"GET OUT!" Janine shrieked.
Oliver closed the door and leaned against it. His mother was overreacting, he decided. It was a book list. He could get another one. And, like his father had said, he wasn't supposed to get it until the thirty-first of July. So, why did they decide to send it earlier?
He heard a door slam. His father was sent out of the house. "This is going way too far," Oliver thought. "It's a piece of parchment and my mother sends my father out of the house. I need to escape. To get away. To 'get out' as my mom puts it."
But when? Oliver was under surveillance twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week when his mom and dad were around. They always insisted that he come with them to their Uncle Randy's barbecue, and that he always came with them on little trips, such as the local shop to get some salt.
Oliver had to plan this out carefully. He decided that he would do it after he had received a brand-new, non-crispy book list so that he could get his supplies. Then, he would take all of his stuff and ride on his broomstick towards Diagon Alley to get all of his things. He just wanted to escape from his parents, whom, he felt, were better off without him. Whenever he was around they would argue twice as much.
On the last day of his second year, his train had arrived at platform nine- and-three-quarters in King's Cross. He looked out his window as the train was slowing down and saw his parents talking "mushy love stuff" as Oliver always said, and kissing each other soothingly and tenderly.
When they had got into their car, a small, black Ford Anglia, they had began to argue. And it was always the same topic – Oliver. He was always put in the center of things, and Oliver, quite frankly, was sick of it.
Oliver rustled around in his covers, making sure the plan would be perfect and feasible. He fell asleep easily after carefully working out the plan, and no yells could be heard the rest of the night. And soon, Oliver thought, he wouldn't be able to hear them at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oliver! Oliver? Wake up…please, wake up…"
Oliver slowly opened his right eye. His mother, Janine, was standing above him, holding a delicious plate of food.
"Here's your breakfast," she said, putting it on the table next to him. "Do you want to eat it here or in the kitchen?"
"In…in the kitchen," he replied sleepily. He threw the covers off of him and glanced around the room. It looked like an ordinary Muggle room, except for the many moving posters of Quidditch teams such as the Appleby Arrows, Puddlemere United, and England. There were stickers and signs of Quidditch and his pillows were also merchandise from Quidditch. He was a fanatic, and he was glad that his mom didn't stop him from being one. Not being able to fly his broomstick was worse enough. If he had to dispose of his favourite sport in the world…than he would be living a meaningless life.
"Bacon and eggs…did you want that this morning or do you want something else?" Janine asked.
"No…no…I'm fine, don't worry," Oliver told her. He dragged his feet towards the tile-floored kitchen wearing a Quidditch t-shirt and shorts as pajamas.
"Did you have a nice sleep?" his mother asked, handing over some utensils.
"Not really," Oliver admitted. "Your yells woke me up."
"It wasn't all of my yells," Janine said obstinately. "He did some too." She jerked her head towards the door.
Oliver put his fork down and looked through the small slot where the owls came through with mail. His father was asleep in an odd position. He was leaning against the door, and his left foot was positioned on the door knob. Oliver turned the doorknob from the inside and his father fell.
"Sorry dad!" Oliver apologized and his father got up.
"What'd you do that for?!" Paul cried.
"I don't want my own father to sleep outside the door when he's got a perfectly good bed inside!" Oliver exclaimed. "And besides, the mail's coming."
Two brown owls flew through the slot. One of the owls rested itself on Oliver's arm; one of them flew towards the kitchen counter, dropping a letter upon it.
"Oh, it's the book list!" his mother exclaimed, petting the owl before it flew away.
"Already?" Paul asked. "But just a few hours ago you were yelling to me about it, and now you already have a new copy?"
"Well, I told Dumbledore it was an emergency," Janine told him, flushing a little. "What does your letter say, Oliver?"
Oliver untied the piece of parchment from the other owl's leg. It hooted and flew off. Oliver read:
"Dear Oliver,
It's me, your mate Mark. You haven't forgotten about me yet, have you? I think this year at Hogwarts was great, but we should also try to get to together during this summer. My parents (I hate parents) have been kind enough to let you come over today. Hopefully, your parents will be kind enough to let you come over. You don't have to write me back, just try to be here in about fifth-teen minutes. If you don't show up, I know you're parents haven't let you. Hope you can!
See you, Mark"
A brilliant beyond brilliant idea had just struck Oliver. The missing pieces of the puzzle were all fitting together. The book list had come, only after a few hours. And now, he had gotten an invitation to his friend's house. He knew what he had to do.
"Can I go mum, please?" Oliver begged.
"Well, you're going to have to eat your breakfast first," Janine told him.
"But that always takes more than fifth-teen minutes – he'll think that you haven't let me come!" Oliver invented, trying to make sure everything would work.
"Oh…all right," his mother gave in. "But do try to get some food while your there, all right?"
"Can I sleep over there too?" Oliver asked.
"What? Are you a married couple?" his father joked.
"No, we're not…it's just that I haven't seen him for a while," Oliver pushed them.
"You saw him the whole entire year at Hogwarts!" Janine exclaimed.
"Please?" Oliver pleaded. "I promise I'll be good," he added.
"Fine," Janine finally said. "You may go."
Oliver felt like doing five back flips to express his emotions, but thought it was wiser not to. Instead, he said a small thank you and headed towards the bedroom.
"But you're not allowed to bring your broomstick!" Paul called after him.
"Too bad," Oliver thought as he closed his door to prepare himself. "I'm taking my broomstick. And a lot of other stuff with it."
Oliver opened his window before packing up his essentials – his wand, his key to his Gringotts vault, clothes, and other accessories. He put them all in a briefcase and then took a sleeping bag. He put his broomstick inside the sleeping bag and rolled it up so that the broomstick wasn't visible. "This plan will work," Oliver assured himself as he closed his door for the last day that year. "This plan has got to work."
He opened the door and said his goodbyes, telling them that he'll be back at around noon the next day so that Oliver had a good head start in front of him. He closed the door, but instead of turning right towards his friend Mark's house, he turned to go to his backyard.
In his backyard the window to his room, which was still open, was accessible. Oliver unraveled his sleeping bag and took out his broomstick. He mounted it and flew up to his window and jumped inside. Careful as to not to make any noise (he didn't want his parents to know he was there), he landed softly on the bed and gathered up the large briefcase that he had ready. If he took it with him before his parents would be suspicious of why he was taking a large briefcase with him. He tied the briefcase to his broomstick and flew off, closing the window, and escaped the hell that he was trapped in. Now, he was flying towards heaven, specifically Diagon Alley, and hoped that the rest of the plan would work out.
*********************************************************************
There's Chapter 2! How do you like it so far? As you can see, I entered Oliver, and he will be meet Victoria in the next chapter (I don't want to give away how, so I'll just tell you that much). Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. Here are the thanks:
Deanna Malfoy – Thanks for the compliments. I think that Oliver would be perfect for Victoria too. I can't really answer the first question (since it might give away the rest of the story, but then again, it might not) but I can answer the second question. Oliver is going to be going to his third year, so he's already thirteen (his birthday is March 15th, like Sean Biggerstaff's is. Sean Biggerstaff plays Oliver Wood in the movie, in case you didn't know. I think you do though.) So, Oliver Wood is two years older than Victoria. Not much of a difference, really, if you think of Oliver and Hermione being together. Okay, I talk too much. Thanks for your review!
gurl – Thank you!
Juvenus – I'm glad you like it. And don't worry, I'll be updating this much more frequently than other stories. It isn't priority number 1, but it just seems easier to write than my Oliver/Hermione story right now so I'm going to work on this just for a little bit. But thanks!
WeasleyTwinsLover1112 – I went and read and reviewed your stories, so I hope you appreciate it. I appreciated you reviewing! Thanks!
Oliver Lover – You always review my stories, so I thank you. Thanks for the "Victoria is not a Mary Sue" bit. I don't want her to be one. She's just a girl…I guess. Oliver Wood is in this chapter, as you see. The first one was dedicated to Victoria, the second one was dedicated to Oliver Wood, and the third chapter is dedicated to both of them! So I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 3 will be up soon! Thanks for reviewing!
Oliver Wood, a burly young boy, opened his eyes. He had been asleep in his bedroom for several hours, but woke up once again to his parents fighting.
"Now isn't life perfect," he mumbled sarcastically as he twisted and turned in his bed. He glanced at his clock through his tired eyes. It was four in the morning. "How can my parents fight this long?" he wondered, trying without success to fall asleep once again. "Why can't I be where I belong?"
Where he felt he belonged was in Hogwarts, where he had just ended his second year. Hogwarts was a school for witchcraft and wizardry, and Oliver Wood, who had just turned thirteen in March, attended that school. Oliver Wood was a wizard, and was very popular in his school. Many young girls thought he was handsome, so they followed him around all the time. Many young boys thought that he was an excellent keeper, so they followed him around all the time.
He wanted to become captain for his school house, Gryffindor. He remembered, in his first year, when the sorting hat had been placed on his head and sorted him into Gryffindor. It was the house for the courageous and adventurous. When the sorting hat had been placed on his head, he was terrified. His parents told him he was a wizard when he was nine, but that he could only attend a wizard school when he was ten years of age.
He knew what was coming. Spells, enchantments, different sort of things than what he had experienced in his younger years. But, still, he couldn't help feeling terrified.
Now, as he came into the summer holidays after the second year of attending that school he wasn't terrified at all. He had learned fascinating things, and had made fascinating friends. He was amazed on how different things were than from his old elementary school.
His favourite thing since attending that school was Quidditch. It was an extraordinary game, played on broomsticks, and he was obsessed with it. His least favourite thing was attending Potions class, taught by greasy and mean Professor Snape, but besides that, going to Hogwarts was heaven.
And now he was in hell. Since he came back from Hogwarts he had been stuck with his parents, who had forbid him to ride on his broomstick because of all the "Muggles" that lived out there. "Muggles", as his parents explained, were non-magic folk, and even though they had no magical powers, they were evil, dangerous, and desperate people.
Oliver didn't see anything wrong with them. After all, he had spent most of his life with them before he had been accepted into Hogwarts. And even though he promised that he would only ride it in the backyard, they had still forbidden it.
Oliver's parents were nice and kind, but very strict. They had a wonderful yet small house, but Oliver longed for the wonderful and enormous Hogwarts castle, once again out of his parent's rules and commands.
"Get out, get out right now!" he heard his mother cry.
"But…but Janine, it's four in the morning!" his father protested.
"I don't care what time it is!" Janine bellowed. "Get out right now Paul! This has gone far enough!"
Oliver took off his bed covers and opened the door a tiny smidge so he could get a clear view of exactly what his parents were arguing about.
"You know that this means everything to him, Paul!" Janine hollered. "And yet, you still do silly things!" She pointed to a small piece of parchment, which was almost burnt to a crisp.
"I…I accidentally left my cigarette on top of it!" Paul insisted.
"This is his book lists for the next term!" Janine cried. "How is he supposed to get his supplies now?"
"He's not supposed to get his letter that early!" Paul told her. "He's supposed to get it on the thirty-first, isn't he?"
"Does it really matter what date it's sent on?" his mother snapped. "I'm going to have to write a letter to Dumbledore to get another one because of my stupid foolish husband who leaves his cigarette on top of it and burns his book supply list to a crisp!"
"Hey!" Paul exclaimed. "That rhymes!"
"GET OUT!" Janine shrieked.
Oliver closed the door and leaned against it. His mother was overreacting, he decided. It was a book list. He could get another one. And, like his father had said, he wasn't supposed to get it until the thirty-first of July. So, why did they decide to send it earlier?
He heard a door slam. His father was sent out of the house. "This is going way too far," Oliver thought. "It's a piece of parchment and my mother sends my father out of the house. I need to escape. To get away. To 'get out' as my mom puts it."
But when? Oliver was under surveillance twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week when his mom and dad were around. They always insisted that he come with them to their Uncle Randy's barbecue, and that he always came with them on little trips, such as the local shop to get some salt.
Oliver had to plan this out carefully. He decided that he would do it after he had received a brand-new, non-crispy book list so that he could get his supplies. Then, he would take all of his stuff and ride on his broomstick towards Diagon Alley to get all of his things. He just wanted to escape from his parents, whom, he felt, were better off without him. Whenever he was around they would argue twice as much.
On the last day of his second year, his train had arrived at platform nine- and-three-quarters in King's Cross. He looked out his window as the train was slowing down and saw his parents talking "mushy love stuff" as Oliver always said, and kissing each other soothingly and tenderly.
When they had got into their car, a small, black Ford Anglia, they had began to argue. And it was always the same topic – Oliver. He was always put in the center of things, and Oliver, quite frankly, was sick of it.
Oliver rustled around in his covers, making sure the plan would be perfect and feasible. He fell asleep easily after carefully working out the plan, and no yells could be heard the rest of the night. And soon, Oliver thought, he wouldn't be able to hear them at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oliver! Oliver? Wake up…please, wake up…"
Oliver slowly opened his right eye. His mother, Janine, was standing above him, holding a delicious plate of food.
"Here's your breakfast," she said, putting it on the table next to him. "Do you want to eat it here or in the kitchen?"
"In…in the kitchen," he replied sleepily. He threw the covers off of him and glanced around the room. It looked like an ordinary Muggle room, except for the many moving posters of Quidditch teams such as the Appleby Arrows, Puddlemere United, and England. There were stickers and signs of Quidditch and his pillows were also merchandise from Quidditch. He was a fanatic, and he was glad that his mom didn't stop him from being one. Not being able to fly his broomstick was worse enough. If he had to dispose of his favourite sport in the world…than he would be living a meaningless life.
"Bacon and eggs…did you want that this morning or do you want something else?" Janine asked.
"No…no…I'm fine, don't worry," Oliver told her. He dragged his feet towards the tile-floored kitchen wearing a Quidditch t-shirt and shorts as pajamas.
"Did you have a nice sleep?" his mother asked, handing over some utensils.
"Not really," Oliver admitted. "Your yells woke me up."
"It wasn't all of my yells," Janine said obstinately. "He did some too." She jerked her head towards the door.
Oliver put his fork down and looked through the small slot where the owls came through with mail. His father was asleep in an odd position. He was leaning against the door, and his left foot was positioned on the door knob. Oliver turned the doorknob from the inside and his father fell.
"Sorry dad!" Oliver apologized and his father got up.
"What'd you do that for?!" Paul cried.
"I don't want my own father to sleep outside the door when he's got a perfectly good bed inside!" Oliver exclaimed. "And besides, the mail's coming."
Two brown owls flew through the slot. One of the owls rested itself on Oliver's arm; one of them flew towards the kitchen counter, dropping a letter upon it.
"Oh, it's the book list!" his mother exclaimed, petting the owl before it flew away.
"Already?" Paul asked. "But just a few hours ago you were yelling to me about it, and now you already have a new copy?"
"Well, I told Dumbledore it was an emergency," Janine told him, flushing a little. "What does your letter say, Oliver?"
Oliver untied the piece of parchment from the other owl's leg. It hooted and flew off. Oliver read:
"Dear Oliver,
It's me, your mate Mark. You haven't forgotten about me yet, have you? I think this year at Hogwarts was great, but we should also try to get to together during this summer. My parents (I hate parents) have been kind enough to let you come over today. Hopefully, your parents will be kind enough to let you come over. You don't have to write me back, just try to be here in about fifth-teen minutes. If you don't show up, I know you're parents haven't let you. Hope you can!
See you, Mark"
A brilliant beyond brilliant idea had just struck Oliver. The missing pieces of the puzzle were all fitting together. The book list had come, only after a few hours. And now, he had gotten an invitation to his friend's house. He knew what he had to do.
"Can I go mum, please?" Oliver begged.
"Well, you're going to have to eat your breakfast first," Janine told him.
"But that always takes more than fifth-teen minutes – he'll think that you haven't let me come!" Oliver invented, trying to make sure everything would work.
"Oh…all right," his mother gave in. "But do try to get some food while your there, all right?"
"Can I sleep over there too?" Oliver asked.
"What? Are you a married couple?" his father joked.
"No, we're not…it's just that I haven't seen him for a while," Oliver pushed them.
"You saw him the whole entire year at Hogwarts!" Janine exclaimed.
"Please?" Oliver pleaded. "I promise I'll be good," he added.
"Fine," Janine finally said. "You may go."
Oliver felt like doing five back flips to express his emotions, but thought it was wiser not to. Instead, he said a small thank you and headed towards the bedroom.
"But you're not allowed to bring your broomstick!" Paul called after him.
"Too bad," Oliver thought as he closed his door to prepare himself. "I'm taking my broomstick. And a lot of other stuff with it."
Oliver opened his window before packing up his essentials – his wand, his key to his Gringotts vault, clothes, and other accessories. He put them all in a briefcase and then took a sleeping bag. He put his broomstick inside the sleeping bag and rolled it up so that the broomstick wasn't visible. "This plan will work," Oliver assured himself as he closed his door for the last day that year. "This plan has got to work."
He opened the door and said his goodbyes, telling them that he'll be back at around noon the next day so that Oliver had a good head start in front of him. He closed the door, but instead of turning right towards his friend Mark's house, he turned to go to his backyard.
In his backyard the window to his room, which was still open, was accessible. Oliver unraveled his sleeping bag and took out his broomstick. He mounted it and flew up to his window and jumped inside. Careful as to not to make any noise (he didn't want his parents to know he was there), he landed softly on the bed and gathered up the large briefcase that he had ready. If he took it with him before his parents would be suspicious of why he was taking a large briefcase with him. He tied the briefcase to his broomstick and flew off, closing the window, and escaped the hell that he was trapped in. Now, he was flying towards heaven, specifically Diagon Alley, and hoped that the rest of the plan would work out.
*********************************************************************
There's Chapter 2! How do you like it so far? As you can see, I entered Oliver, and he will be meet Victoria in the next chapter (I don't want to give away how, so I'll just tell you that much). Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. Here are the thanks:
Deanna Malfoy – Thanks for the compliments. I think that Oliver would be perfect for Victoria too. I can't really answer the first question (since it might give away the rest of the story, but then again, it might not) but I can answer the second question. Oliver is going to be going to his third year, so he's already thirteen (his birthday is March 15th, like Sean Biggerstaff's is. Sean Biggerstaff plays Oliver Wood in the movie, in case you didn't know. I think you do though.) So, Oliver Wood is two years older than Victoria. Not much of a difference, really, if you think of Oliver and Hermione being together. Okay, I talk too much. Thanks for your review!
gurl – Thank you!
Juvenus – I'm glad you like it. And don't worry, I'll be updating this much more frequently than other stories. It isn't priority number 1, but it just seems easier to write than my Oliver/Hermione story right now so I'm going to work on this just for a little bit. But thanks!
WeasleyTwinsLover1112 – I went and read and reviewed your stories, so I hope you appreciate it. I appreciated you reviewing! Thanks!
Oliver Lover – You always review my stories, so I thank you. Thanks for the "Victoria is not a Mary Sue" bit. I don't want her to be one. She's just a girl…I guess. Oliver Wood is in this chapter, as you see. The first one was dedicated to Victoria, the second one was dedicated to Oliver Wood, and the third chapter is dedicated to both of them! So I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 3 will be up soon! Thanks for reviewing!