Chapter 4
Disclaimer: It's not mine, as I'm sure you're all aware.
I limped off the quidditch pitch after our last session of training before the game against Slytherin on Saturday morning. The twins appeared to already be overly enthusiast about crashing bludgers towards Malfoy and the rest of the team of 'slimy gits', mostly indicated by their wild swinging of the beaters' bats without much regard for whatever or whoever was in the way. As a result, I got hit. Twice.
Slumping down on the bench I unlaced my shin-guards, pulled off my boots and inspected the fast blossoming purple bruise on my leg. Sometimes I don't know why I played quidditch. I mean, I enjoyed the actual sport; I loved playing it, I loved watching it, I loved winning. I just didn't love training. Injuries, muddy socks that had to be washed 5 times a week and early morning starts were not on the list of things that I like. Especially the early morning starts. I will never understand how Wood got to be so fanatical about getting up at 5am to go for a run, especially if it was raining (which often it was).
We were standing out on the quidditch pitch watching Madame Hooch give her briefing before the game. Angelina and the big hulking Slytherin were eyeing each other off.
"Play fair. No direct hits from beaters bats, no meddling with the snitch or other people's brooms, or foul play of any other kind. Agreed?"
Angelina and the other bloke shook hands begrudgingly. Then Hooch released the Snitch and there was chaos. The Slytherins played dirty like they always did while the twins tried their hardest to knock them off their brooms with bludgers. Alicia, Angelina and I got to work on trying to score against the Slytherin keeper before Harry caught the snitch – that way our percentage would be high, and start us off at the top of the table for the season. And Ron did nothing but hover nervously in front of the three golden hoops looking like he'd rather be somewhere else.
Angelina threw me the quaffle, and I sped off toward the goal hoops. I focussed intently in the back of my mind on the centre one, but instead I flew in the in the direction of the one to the left. Once I was certain that their keeper was going to move and defend the left hoop, I took aim for the centre which he'd left wide open.
"Katie!"
Apparently the Slytherins had no intention of playing fair, because I woke up on the ground at the side of the pitch. I had been on the receiving end of a blow to the head from a beater's bat, but it wasn't serious enough to warrant needing to go to the hospital wing, so I was allowed to watch the rest of the game. My head hurt like hell though. I was probably going to have another bruise on my forehead to match the one on my leg that had now fully developed to be almost black in the middle.
I missed most of the victory celebrations in the Gryffindor common room, my head was still throbbing from the almighty whack I got during the game, so I opted to go straight to bed. At about 2am though, I heard scratching on my window. Of course, having just woken, I wasn't thinking right and automatically assumed that somebody was trying to break in to murder me.
Despite my paranoia, I managed to stop myself from screaming, and after several minutes of hiding underneath my doona cover, I mustered up the courage to investigate what the noise at my window was. I discovered that it was just an owl. Well, not just an owl, it was Wood's owl. Obviously he still hadn't managed to get mine to leave her comfy perch and actually do some exercise.
Katie,
I'm really sorry if my owl woke you up. I heard you guys won the match against Slytherin, and I thought that you might still be up partying... Anyway, I managed to get a few days off, and I'm staying in Hogsmeade for the weekend. I thought you might like to catch up tomorrow? (I'm pretty sure it's the first Hogsmeade trip for the year...)
If you're up for a couple of butterbeers and a chat, I'll see you at the three broomsticks at about 1.
xx Oliver
I hadn't even realised that tomorrow was the first Hogsmeade trip for the year, I'd been focussing on winning the game against Slytherin. Not that I had been much help in the end. Even though I hadn't paid much attention to when the Hogsmeade trips were this term, I always had my permission form ready, just in case.
I couldn't find anything to write on within reaching distance, getting out of bed to find some seemed like a lot of unnecessary effort, and in my opinion cold toes should be avoided when possible. So instead of creeping across the cold stone floor to rifle through my bag for a spare bit of parchment, I just scribbled 'yes' on the bottom of the bit that Oliver had sent me, and then sent it back to him. Hopefully he'd figure it out.
A/N: Not sure what I think about this chapter, please review, good or bad it's all appreciated.