Hey, apparantly I was on a role, forget my still unfished essay. This has kept me busy till 5am. If there are any horrible mistakes let me know, it's late, I'm tired. Poor excuse but it will have to do. Thanks for reading!
I wish I owned Harry Potter but I don't.
Chapter 2
The start of term passed in the blink of an eye, every professor kept reminding us of the importance of our N.E.W.T's. It certainly didn't help that's for sure. I'd spent many a late evening in the library with other seventh years scribbling away on parchment, three feet of parchment for potions, two for defence against the dark arts. Even herbology was being demanding but if I wanted to be a healer it was necessary.
It was on such a night that I was tackling a particularly nasty essay for Snape, students had long since gone to bed except for the handful of us seventh years. "Ellie!" I looked up as I heard my name called. Brilliant, just brilliant, I was trying to work and Oliver and Matt decided to grace the library with their presence. With a disapproving look from madam Pince they sat themselves down either side of me. I ignored them hoping they'd get the message, I was on a role here. "Oi Ellie," Matt tried to get my attention. I lifted my quill up, better make them think I was stopping, before dipping it in my ink and starting to write again. What can I say? I was on a mission.
"I think she's ignoring us," Oliver said to his annoying friend.
"You're her friend get her to help," Matt answered Oliver, was I missing something here, I was friends with Matt.
A hand closed over mine and yanked the quill from my grasp, "oi sod off will you, I'm busy," I tried to make a quick grab for the pen.
"Such language," Matt laughed.
"Not very lady like," Oliver grinned, seriously if these two didn't pack it in we'd get thrown out of the library.
"Fine, what do you want?" I hissed.
Oliver handed me back my quill, "help with Snape's essay, I've got Quidditch practice the rest of the week and Quidditch at the weekend, tonight is the only night I've got."
"What's your exscuse Matt?" it was inevitable that I was going to help them.
"Amelia wouldn't help, something about I wouldn't actually learn anything," I rolled my eyes.
"So you thought you'd ask the prefect?" I sighed, not even surprised.
"Well you are the cleverest," Matt tried to butter me up.
"Alright I'll let you look at my notes but that's it, I'm not showing you my essay," I folded my almost finished essay away, leaving my notes on the table.
"Oh come on, one little look," I didn't blame Amelia for not helping Matt.
"Hey Matt come on, ever heard of don't look a gift horse in the mouth," thankfully Oliver came to the rescue.
I was in the library later than usual that night, Matt had rushed through his essay saying he didn't care if Snape failed him, he left muttering something about Slytherin lovers. Oliver on the other hand took his time; I could hardly say that I was too tired to continue though. When I asked him where his notes were he pulled them from his bag and handed them to me.
"Really Oliver, you doodled for the whole two hours?" was I the only one who paid any sort of attention in potions.
Oliver looked outraged, "Doodles? Merlin Ellie, how can you not know what they are when you live with your brother."
"Quidditch doodles?" honestly.
"Quidditch plays," he corrected, "we've got to win this match. I've had the team practicing since the start of October."
"Right," I answered as if I completely understood, Oliver raised an eyebrow. I had the feeling that saying it was just a game wouldn't go down too well. Instead I went for a different tact, "who are you playing?"
"Hufflepuff, with any luck we'll win, so long as Harry catches that snitch," to watch him explain was entertaining, he was so passionate about it. To think, after this year, when we would all be working he probably won't have much chance to play.
"I'll have my fingers crossed then," I tried to show enthusiasm, I honestly did, "now come on then, are you nearly finished? I'm practically dead on my feet."
"Nearly, you can go if you want," he suggested.
I looked around at the nearly deserted library, "nah, I'll wait for you, I've got some runes work to do anyway."
A short while later and we're strolling through the cold dark corridors back to the Gryffindor tower, "crap, it's passed curfew. If we get caught, well doesn't look good does it," I honestly hadn't looked at my watch, how could I be so stupid?
"Relax, it's not like we'll get caught," Oliver shrugged it off. Nonetheless we still walked faster, "you're a prefect so it doesn't matter."
"It does matter; I wouldn't put it past McGonagall to take away my prefects' badge, how embarrassing would that be?" Oliver just looked at me; I could see he was trying not to smile. Well, I'd show him, "she may even take away your captaincy."
"She wouldn't?" I raised my eyebrows daring him to argue, "She would," he sighed and all but ran back to the common room. Whispering the password we scrambled through into the common room.
We were greeted with a low whistle and obnoxious shout from the other seventh year boys, "way to go Oliver!" I hadn't realised how bad this looked, we both return at the same time, slightly out of breath. Well, I was, Mr Quidditch Captain wasn't. Apparently he wasn't easily defeated by four flights of stairs.
"Oh grow up Andrews," I stalked past them all and up to the girls' dormitory, were they really that immature? Next time I'd abuse my prefect powers and take points maybe even give a detention, that'll show them.
The following morning at breakfast and my brother sits down opposite me. He wanted something, it was the only time he did it, "So," he began. Really could he not just spit it out, "you and Oliver?"
Lauren chocked on her pumpkin juice, "you what? First I've heard."
I ignored her and frowned at my darling brother, not quite following, "get to the point."
"You and him were pretty close last night?" Now I was confused, William never set a foot in the library so where was he getting this from; all I'd done was help Oliver with his essay.
I could tell that Lauren was hanging on every word of this exchange. "I helped him with his potions essay," I explained, looking around for the culprit of this little rumour, it had to be Andrews or maybe Matt, although he'd have Amelia to answer to.
William laughed, "Is that what you kids are calling it?"
That was it, I'd had enough, I didn't care if he were in the great hall with plenty of witnesses. I would kill him. I pulled out my wand, ready to hex him. We we're getting funny looks from a few around us, all I was going to do was cause he's tongue to swell. That way he'd have to wait for someone to reverse it that would teach him. By our standards that was actually quite mild, three weeks ago he'd made me grow a beard. The clearing of a throat made me think twice about hexing him, "Morning Professor McGonagall," William greeted.
"Good Morning Mr Newham, girls," she replied, thankfully I hadn't actually hexed him, that wouldn't have been good.
"Morning," we mumbled in response.
"Miss Newham are you still wishing to become a healer?" her question caught me off guard; I was expecting a telling off or at least a warning, some form of reprimand.
"Err yeah," I replied, still cautious.
"Good, I spoke to Madam Pomfrey, she is willing to let you spent one of your free lessons in the hospital wing, for some experience," I was amazed, no reprimand, although there was still time.
"Really? Well, that's brilliant," my disagreement with William was momentarily forgotten.
"She would like to arrange a time with you later today," at least something was going well today.
With McGonagall gone I turned my attention back to William who had moved further up the table to his friends leaving Lauren and I alone, "so Oliver?" Figures that would be the first thing she said.
"So nothing," I replied, "we just had a light night in the library."
"Oh yeah," she grinned.
"Aaah you're as bad as the boys, it wasn't like that. I helped him with his potions essay, that's all," I was getting fed up with this now. Why couldn't people just believe it was as innocent as it was.
"I doubt he thought that," Lauren replied. I couldn't believe her; even my best friend was against me.
"What do you mean?" I pressed her to elaborate.
She gave me a 'are you serious' expression, "oh dear. You can be so dense sometimes." Dense? Come on I had the highest marks in our year in charms.
"I'm not having this conversation," I stood up, leaving my breakfast half finished. Lauren yanked on my arm pulling me down next to her.
"You must have seen the way he looks at you?" was she for real? I loved my best friend, I did, but right now she was not one of my favourite people.
"Your making something out of nothing, it was just a potions essay," I tried to fight my corner.
"Oh Els lighten up, you can't stay single forever, there is more to life than being a prefect," she looked down the table, "besides Oliver isn't that bad on the eyes."
I wanted to bash my head against the table, "Lauren you're being ridiculous, I've got something to do so I'll see you in transfiguration." This time she let me leave. I didn't really have anywhere else to be but right not anywhere away from Lauren was good. Did she really think that Oliver had a thing for me? She was just seeing things where she wanted to see them. Now fully annoyed, I trudged up to the hospital wing, may as well use my little bit of spare time wisely.
Sat in transfiguration I found that I couldn't concentrate, I was still thinking over what Lauren said over breakfast. I was trying not to, it wasn't really worth the brain space but something was interfering so instead of diligently listening as I was supposed to I found myself stealing glancing across the room at Oliver. He never looked my way once that had to prove Lauren wrong. There was only one thing that boy thought about and it was Quidditch. Happier than I was previously, I attempted to tune back into the class but my attention had been lost instead I settled for doodling on my scrap of parchment. This would mean extra work in the library tonight and here was me thinking I could have a night off. This was bloody Oliver Wood's fault.
The end of class couldn't come quick enough, I didn't waste any time in leaving the room with Lauren who, like me, had no idea what had just been taught in the class. Guess that meant two of us in the library later. "Hey Ellie, wait up!" it was Oliver; I waited for him to catch up.
"I'll see you later," Lauren said with a smirk before heading down the corridor, my friend was cruel. If only that was good enough reason to take points away, even if it was my own house.
"Hi Oliver," I said none too enthusiastically.
"Oh bad day?" he asked. He couldn't be more right.
"Something like that," I answered. He didn't need to know why my day was bad, that information was better left a secret.
"I won't keep you then, I just wanted to say thanks for last night and Matt says thanks as well," he explained. Matt wasn't passing on his thanks, the thought probably hadn't even crossed his mind but I appreciated the effort.
"That's okay, maybe you could tell me what McGonagall was rambling on about in that class in return," it was worth a shot. Someone must have played attention.
Oliver laughed, "Sorry, my mind was on Quidditch." I rolled my eyes. See Lauren, Oliver only thinks about Quidditch.
"So, are you coming to the match on Saturday?" he asked. I could hardly say no, I didn't fancy a Quidditch rant. Again with the Quidditch thinking.
"Yeah, go Gryffindor!" I cheered, all be it in a rather lame fashion.
Oliver's face lit up, "great, what class have you got now?"
"Ancient Runes," I replied, not one of my favourite class but it was useful. Or so I kept telling myself, surely as healer I might to have to decipher some old text to find an old spell, you never know what might happen. Of course the likelihood of that actually happening was pretty low but it got me through the class I thought was a good idea at the time.
Oliver grimaced, "could be worse, could be history of magic." He had a point there.
I left Oliver on the stairway, he was heading down to the Quidditch pitch to spend his free lesson there, I on the other hand, headed up to the fourth floor for the dingy little ancient runes room.
"What did Oliver have to say?" Lauren jumped on me as soon as I sat next to her in the library. It was my only free lesson of the day; I didn't exactly want to spend it talking about a non-existent situation.
"Just thanked me for the help last night," I explained.
She narrowed her eyes at me, "and, what else did he have to say?"
I dropped my book on the table with some force, "nothing much, just wanted to know if I was going to the match at the weekend, I said I was we always go."
Lauren all but squealed in delight, "I was right," she whispered, "he wants you to watch him."
Seriously, I was getting sick of this, "no he doesn't it was just polite conversation. Now none of this matter so are we going to work on this herbology project or what?"
Lauren took the hint and picked up the book she had in front of her, glad she had dropped the subject I opened up my own book, "I saw the way you were looking at him transfiguration."
"Lauren!" I dropped the book again.
"Girls, quiet," Madam Pince barked.
In a hushed voice, "it was your fault anyway; I wanted to see if he really was looking at me so I could prove you wrong."
Lauren looked smug, "was he?"
"No, now let's discuss this project instead of something so trivial," my patience was getting the better of me.
"That proves nothing," I glared at her; she returned it with a smile and picked her book up. I knew I hadn't heard the last of it but was grateful that at least for the time being she had dropped the matter. Not that there was one in the first place.
For the remainder of the week Lauren bugged me about Oliver at every chance she had, I kept telling her that she was making a big deal about nothing. She disagreed, so did William for that matter. He took great pleasure in making my life difficult; he even had his friends in on it. Regrettably I took points from my house for it. He walked away mumbling that I was uncool, he'd get over. Maybe next time he'd learn not to wind me up so much, then again that never stopped him before.
By Friday night the common was a buzz of activity, the upcoming Quidditch match was all that we talked about. For someone who had very little interest in Quidditch, I certainly willing to have a conversation with anyone who'd listen. I was very pro Gryffindor. The only person I didn't mention the word Quidditch to was Oliver, only for my own sake. I didn't need the obsessed Scotsman to explain something I didn't understand, or so I kept telling Lauren, I was just avoiding him so she wouldn't be right. "Is he really that bad?" she asked for the tenth time that day.
"I haven't got anything against him, you're just seeing something where there is nothing," my protests, it seems, kept falling on deaf ears.
Mid-morning on Saturday and we all wrapped up in coats in the stands, all wearing our team colours. The banners that our house had made over the course of the week were draped across the stands and waving in the air. Everyone was excited for the first game of the season. "Did you give Oliver a good luck kiss?" Lauren teased on our way up into the stands.
"Sod off," I answered back. When would they get it into their heads, I did not, do not and never will like Oliver in that way. Okay sure he was easy on the eyes and we got along fine but that was all there was to it. According to Lauren he spent more time talking to me than the other girls in our year, I didn't think so but then again up until now I hadn't paid much attention to it.
The rain, that had started as drizzle was now pelting us with full force. If it wasn't for the brightly coloured blurs that occasionally passed by our stand, you wouldn't know why we were out there.
Cold and shivering I was desperate for the game to end, then again at least huddled together we were better off than the team, who were completely exposed to the elements. Just when I thought the clouds were brightening and the rain letting up the seemed to darken rapidly. "There's something up there," Lauren muttered, squinting through the rain.
"Yeah more rain," I replied, trying to work out who had possession of the Quaffle.
"No, I mean something," muttering broke out among us and one girl screamed. Lauren was right, something was up there.
It happened so quickly, as we were trying to determine the alien object a blurry red object crashed to the ground. There were more screams from some of the younger girls breaking the silence, the cheers long since died out. "Is that Harry?" I asked Lauren.
"Yeah," none of us could believe what we were seeing, Dementors, hundreds of them, had bombarded the pitch. Automatically the temperature plumeted to freezing, instinctively we all huddled closer. Players were landing and Dumbledore had appeared on the pitch.
My eyes were darting this way and that, I wanted to keep an eye on the Dementors, but William was at the edge of the pitch and we all wanted to see if Harry was alright. I even spared a glance at Oliver.
The professors were conjuring patronouses left right and centre, keeping the Dementors away. Dumbledore looked furious. William stuck his thumb up, or at least that's what it looked like from this distance so I assumed he was okay. He joined the rest of the team now crowding round Harry, who had yet to move.
Back in the common room that night the mood was down. We had lost to Hufflepuff. Although, their seeker and captain wanted a rematch, I certainly wouldn't argue with that, but it just wasn't possible. No matter how hard Oliver tried to convince McGonagall. Speaking of Oliver, he was now sulking in the corner of the common room staring intently at the flames of the fire. I know he wanted to win but this was just a bit ridiculous. No one had spoken to him, they were too afraid to have their heads bitten off. "Go and talk to him," Lauren prompted, for once she wasn't teasing.
"Hey," I said, sitting down in the chair opposite.
"Hey," he muttered back, his arms were folded and his head down, if the flames weren't already lit I'd swear he was trying to start a fire with that look.
"Sorry about the game," maybe not the best conversation starter.
"Hmm," he replied, clearly not wanting conversation. Taking the hint I got ready to stand up. Screw him; I was only trying to be nice.
"Look at this way; you still have two games you are still in with a chance. You just have to play better and practice more," I was going for the optimism approach.
Oliver looked up, "we should have one that game though."
"I know," I didn't, I had no clue how good Hufflepuff were but Oliver needn't know that, "but events were out of your hands so don't blame yourself."
He sighed, "I know, it's just this is my last year to win the cup, I need to win it. If I don't then what chance to have a team signing me?"
I couldn't answer that but what he said grabbed my attention, "you want to play professionally?"
Oliver cheered up a bit as I asked that, "it's all I've ever thought about," okay not surprised by that, "since I first sat on a broomstick as a child it was the only thing I wanted to do."
"Wow," the image of a tiny Oliver on a broom made me want to laugh. I was bought up as a muggle, we would ride bikes or use rollerblades, I couldn't imagine ever riding a broom. During the first year I was appalling at it, it seemed William was graced with that talent.
We sat in silence, I was still trying to imagine my parents allowing me on a broom at the age of five, I just couldn't see it and Oliver it seemed had returned to his sulking. I thought it best to leave him to it so I made a move to get up again. "Do you have to go?"
I felt like a dear caught in the headlights, "Errr no but I'll get my book." Lauren was grinning like Cheshire cat as I walked back over and explained I was grabbing my book. I picked up my copy of healing charms for beginners and sat back down with Oliver.
One particular charm for curing a blocked nose caught my eye, after a day spent in the cold rain that seemed like a useful spell to know. If I wasn't sniffling then someone else would be. "Healing charms?" Oliver asked I hadn't expected him to say anything. I just assumed he'd go back to his brooding.
"Yeah, kind of useful if I want to be a healer," I replied. I was determined to get a head start and with the chance of experience in the hospital wing I was surely going to stand out above the rest.
"You want to be a healer?" he leaned forward, his arms now unfolded.
I nodded, "it's a lot of effort but it'll be worth it in the end." By the sounds of things we both had high ambitions. Oliver wanted to know more about being a healer so I rambled on for what felt like ages. I had a lot to say on the subject it was something I cared for quite a bit. Nearly as much as Oliver and his Quidditch although I wasn't that obsessed.
The common room emptied gradually and before I knew it we were the only ones in there. Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, I closed the open book on my lap; I hadn't actually looked at it in ages. "Can you believe how late it is? We ought to get some sleep," I stood up and collected my things.
"Hmm yeah," Oliver replied, "listen thanks for," Oliver shifted uncomfortably, "you know cheering me up."
I smiled, "you don't need to think me, just glad I could help."
Oliver looked like he wanted to say more but he didn't instead he settled for a quick good night before heading to the boys dormitories. I was left stood there a little confused, for the first time all week I was beginning to think Lauren was right. Discarding that thought quickly I blamed it on my tired brain and made my own way to bed.
