"You look tired Oliver," Hermione observed as she poured herself a glass of
orange juice. "Hermione, did I ever seem like I was on a high horse?"
Oliver asked. Hermione looked a bit uncomfortable in answering the
question. "You can be truthful Hermione, I won't bite your head off or go
ballistic," Oliver said in a flat tone. "Alright then," Hermione said a
little more brightly, "it had seemed like you were on a high horse since
the day I met you. You cared of nothing but Quidditch, you held this kind
of superior aura to you, and in some cases you kind of shunt girls aside.
If only you knew the waiting line for your affection," Hermione said in one
huge breath. Oliver opened his mouth to speak but then Katie Bell beat him
to it by jumping in on the conversation. "That's why I gave up," she said
simply. Oliver looked surprised and seemed speechless for a moment. "You
wanted the truth Oliver, and to be honest, the truth is quite brutal,"
Hermione shrugged before taking a sip of her orange juice. Oliver's mouth
opened and closed for a moment, he resembled a fish out of water.
Hermione watched him with a big smile on her face. Oliver frowned at
her but decided to pretend to be deeply interested in his toast. "Hey
Oliver, is the meet with Slytherin going to be wicked or what? I can't wait
to push them to the ground!" Fred Weasley said excitedly. "Too bad that
won't be occurring in a bit," Angelina piped up, "but when it will," she
added harshly, grinding her teeth. "Didn't you hear?" said a glum voice
beside Oliver. Oliver looked over to his right to see an extremely anxious
Harry Potter. "What is it, Potter?" Oliver asked interestedly. Hermione
suddenly seemed deeply immersed in her own breakfast, but Oliver could see
that she was turning an angry shade of red all of a sudden. "Malfoy,
conniving git he is, decided to play melodramatically with er... an
incident with Care of Magical Creatures," Ron spoke up, he too looked glum.
"Did something happen?" George asked, though he didn't sound worried. "You
know you're not supposed to insult a hippogriff right?" Harry began. "Don't
tell me any further, he insulted a hippogriff?" George guessed grudgingly.
"Right on the mark," Harry sighed. "That's not the worse part," Hermione
said in a vicious tone. Oliver gave her a surprised look. That was one of
the odd things about Hermione, she could be bubbly and exciting one second,
and then suddenly turns around to be vicious like a wolverine.
"The worst part is," Hermione began briskly, "Is that when Malfoy got
injured for his stupidity he made it seem like he was going to die or
something. He got Hagrid all worried and all. Hagrid's not even here now;
and I don't know where Hagrid is," she added knowingly to Ron and Harry.
Suddenly Malfoy limped into the room, grimacing with pain as he supported
his bandaged arm. "How can I play with this thing during the Quidditch
matches? I simply can't!" he said in a loud mocking tone. The Slytherin's
grinned evilly at the Gryffindor's. "Looks like it's going to cost me,
Wood," Flint laughed evilly, "but hey since Malfoy can't play with his arm
in the storm I hear that's coming for the first match, I guess you'll have
to play Hufflepuff," the Slytherin's all burst out laughing and Flint
turned his back on Wood, giving his best friend a high five. Aryianna
didn't even turn to face and look at him. Oliver sighed heavily and
continued to pick at his food.
His hands shook, and they didn't seem to stop shaking. No matter how hard he clenched his fist, Oliver couldn't seem to stop the shaking. Flint was right, a storm had managed to brew up right before the first Quidditch match, and it didn't seem like it was going to stop, not for another few days. The Gryffindor team gave apprehensive looks to the gale outside. The rain beat heavily against the windows and the day was extremely dark. It was as if the sun hadn't decided to come out for the day. "Okay team," Oliver croaked, "just remember we're doing this for the Quidditch cup. This is my last chance to see our name on that thing," he spoke dejectedly. Katie Bell smiled at him reassuringly and Angelina along with Alicia gave him a firm nod. Oliver tried to make his pre-match speech but it never came. What came instead was the insistent gulping noise that issued from his mouth. He glanced down at his watch and took a deep breath. "Okay people, let's move out," he ordered gruffly and then shouldered his broom. Oliver nearly got blown off of his feet as he tried to make his way across the pitch. He squinted through the gale and could barely make out the stands, nevertheless the crowd. It was useless trying to search for Aryianna. He saw the Hufflepuff team make their way across the pitch in robes of canary yellow. Oliver gritted his teeth in anger, this is exactly what the Slytherin's wanted and he wanted to make damn sure they wouldn't get it. Madam Hooch scrambled onto the field, clutching her hat firmly to her head. She opened her mouth, and started to scream the rules. Though she was screaming, Oliver could barely hear here. She gave Oliver the signal to shake hands with Seeker and Captain, Cedric Diggory, and he did so grudgingly. Madam Hooch then raised her hands into the air, after she placed her whistle into her mouth, and blew hard as she brought her hands down. All fourteen broomsticks rose slowly into the air, Oliver could see Harry rise faster than anyone else, but get battered about by the harsh wind. Oliver sped off towards his respectable position and waited for the game to begin. He let out a cry of frustration as random team mates and foes swept past him. He barely had time to register a quaffle zooming his way. With great effort, Oliver threw himself forward and managed to capture the quaffle before it was out of reach. If the crowd was cheering, Oliver could barely hear it. He threw the Quaffle to who he thought was Katie Bell, at least he or she was wearing red robes and that's all that mattered. Katie managed to capture the ball she was sure Oliver was passing to her, and zoomed off towards the opposite side of the pitch. She glanced desperately around for Angelina or Alicia. A bludger came pelting out of no where and Katie was forced to dive-bomb out of its way. Managing to regain control over the situation, Katie once again looked around for any sign of her team mates. Suddenly Alicia zoomed in beside Katie and frantically motioned for the quaffle to be passed towards her. Katie threw the quaffle with all her might, but it might as well have been throwing pieces of paper, for the wind picked the Quaffle up and managed to blow it out of Alicia's reach. Alicia pulled her broom up and turned swiftly towards the Quaffle, but was too little too late. A Hufflepuff Chaser, uneasy to identify, picked up the Quaffle and began to speed towards the Gryffindor goal posts. A bludger was sent his way by one of the Weasley Twins, but the chaser was agile enough to avoid it. A distant (clang) rang through the air, and Katie felt her heart drop, Hufflepuff had managed to put one past Oliver. Suddenly the shrill whistle of Madam Hooch came bursting through the air, as feeble as it was, all the players managed to hear it. Katie, Angelina, Alicia, Fred, George, and Harry came pelting down to the ground towards their expectant captain. "We're a couple of points up," Oliver bellowed, his hands cupped over his mouth like a megaphone. "Harry, can you spot the snitch, I prefer to end this as soon as possible," Oliver hollered fretfully. "I can't do anything with these," Harry hollered back in a disgruntled tone. Suddenly Katie saw Hermione dart out of the gloom and rush up to Harry. "Harry I just had an idea," Hermione shrieked excitedly. She grabbed Harry's glasses and whatever incantation she did, Katie never knew, but then Hermione explained. "They'll repel water," Hermione said, grinning broadly. Oliver looked as though he was about to kiss Hermione, and for a second, Katie felt a pang of jealousy. Where had that come from? She wondered mildly. Soon enough, the rest of the team were zooming back into the air, with higher hopes of Harry's better Snitch-seeking capabilities. The game continued to become brutal as Katie, Angelina, and Alicia rammed into various players by accident. Katie watched with horror as one bludger came pelting up, smashing itself against Angelina's elbow. Angelina shrieked with pain and lost grip of her broom for a bit. Katie and Alicia came up on both sides of Angelina to slow the girl down and support her. Angelina leaned heavily on Katie; her breathing labored. Suddenly things got extremely cold despite her rain-drenched robes, and Katie glanced below her. At least a hundred dementors were situated below them, all of them looking upwards. Katie felt sick to her stomach as every sad feeling invaded her. She barely had time to feel sorry for herself when something heavy whooshed past the trio of girls. A boy, an unconscious boy with jet-black hair and red rain-drenched robes came plummeting to the ground. "Harry!" Angelina, Alicia and Katie screamed in unison. Katie turned her head away from scene, expecting the worst. "Thank god, thank god," Angelina repeated breathlessly. "What happened?" Katie asked; her eyes squeezed shut. "It looks like Harry slowed down, it looks like Dumbledore managed to slow Harry down," Alicia said keenly, though sounding relieved. Katie glanced down, and managed to get a glimpse of the dementors retreating from the Quidditch pitch. "Absolute terrors," she grumbled. But even though she was relieved that Harry was safe, the way some of the Slytherins were going on about by their cheering, it seemed as though Gryffindor had lost its first match of the year. Katie squinted towards the Gryffindor goal-posts and saw Oliver's form floating in mid-air, motionless.
Oliver stood, frozen, in the luke-warm temperature of the shower. How he managed to make it to the showers, he didn't know. But all he knew was they had lost; they had lost the very first match of the Quidditch season. Did this mean that they were out of running for the Quidditch Cup and Final? Of course they weren't, but the thought of actually getting back onto the same track as the Quidditch Cup was unthinkable. He sighed as he finally reached over to shut the shower off. Oliver fumbled around, mind blank and uncooperative to work, for his towel. He managed to wrap it around himself after a few tries. "I can't believe we lost," Oliver grumbled, it felt like the end of the world for him. He knew that he should have rushed right away to the hospital wing; he knew he should have checked to see if Harry was alright. But he was just feeling so bummed out; he was also feeling selfish. Oliver made a promise to visit Harry the next day, but right now he felt like brooding by himself. Oliver managed to dress himself with numb fingers and just about stepped out of the Gryffindor shower room when he nearly had a heart attack. "Hello Oliver," a small, tentative voice murmured. Oliver didn't need to face who had spoken to know who it was. "Hello Aryianna," he answered back. "I wanted to say...," Aryianna began. "I don't really want to hear it," Oliver snapped, wincing at the tone his voice took. "You don't want to hear sympathy," Aryianna questioned in a flat tone. "I don't need it, we win or we lose. Either way, I don't want to hear anything right now," Oliver sighed as he started to stalk off. He heard Aryianna's footsteps behind him and he rolled his eyes. "You can go back to your common room," he spat out, "I'll be alright." "Don't shunt me aside Oliver," Aryianna hissed, a slight side of Slytherin attitude shining through. "Like the way you shunted me aside a few days ago, the way you've been avoiding me?" Oliver demanded, now stopping in his tracks and turning to fully face Aryianna. It had been true, ever since that night in the Great Hall, Aryianna had been avoiding Oliver. She never had been able to look him in the eye. "Look, I just came to say I'm sorry that Gryffindor lost and I hope that Harry would be alright," Aryianna pointed out, getting a bit annoyed. "Why are you sorry, aren't you happy that this boosts up Slytherin's chances at winning the house cup?" Oliver hissed. "This isn't about Slytherin, I came here to see you," Aryianna said in a would-be-calm voice, she wasn't about to erupt in front of Oliver. "Where's Marcus, is he off celebrating with his friends?" Oliver asked snidely. "I don't care where Marcus is right now," Aryianna muttered. "Why, is he off lolly-gagging with another girl? You aren't enough for him so he shoots you aside for a Gryffindor? What are you, a sloppy second or something?" as soon as the words had left his mouth, Oliver instantly wished he could have taken them back. Aryianna seemed to be boiling with suppressed rage. She took a few angry steps towards Oliver so that she was nearly in his face. What came next, Oliver least expected. The slap rang through the empty corridor; the sound deafening to match that of the friction. "Don't you dare insult me or my boyfriend," Aryianna growled. "Don't go rubbing salt into open wounds. That's so typical of Gryffindor's: finding opponents weak spot and attacking it," Aryianna said in a low, trembling voice. "You know nothing about me Oliver Wood, and therefore you have no right to criticize me or my relationship. I came here to give you sympathy and all you do is take it, throw it to the ground, and trample all over it," Aryianna was breathing heavily now, "it appears you haven't gotten off of your high horse, and that's quite disappointing," she then stalked off, leaving Oliver alone to ponder over what was said. Again.
His hands shook, and they didn't seem to stop shaking. No matter how hard he clenched his fist, Oliver couldn't seem to stop the shaking. Flint was right, a storm had managed to brew up right before the first Quidditch match, and it didn't seem like it was going to stop, not for another few days. The Gryffindor team gave apprehensive looks to the gale outside. The rain beat heavily against the windows and the day was extremely dark. It was as if the sun hadn't decided to come out for the day. "Okay team," Oliver croaked, "just remember we're doing this for the Quidditch cup. This is my last chance to see our name on that thing," he spoke dejectedly. Katie Bell smiled at him reassuringly and Angelina along with Alicia gave him a firm nod. Oliver tried to make his pre-match speech but it never came. What came instead was the insistent gulping noise that issued from his mouth. He glanced down at his watch and took a deep breath. "Okay people, let's move out," he ordered gruffly and then shouldered his broom. Oliver nearly got blown off of his feet as he tried to make his way across the pitch. He squinted through the gale and could barely make out the stands, nevertheless the crowd. It was useless trying to search for Aryianna. He saw the Hufflepuff team make their way across the pitch in robes of canary yellow. Oliver gritted his teeth in anger, this is exactly what the Slytherin's wanted and he wanted to make damn sure they wouldn't get it. Madam Hooch scrambled onto the field, clutching her hat firmly to her head. She opened her mouth, and started to scream the rules. Though she was screaming, Oliver could barely hear here. She gave Oliver the signal to shake hands with Seeker and Captain, Cedric Diggory, and he did so grudgingly. Madam Hooch then raised her hands into the air, after she placed her whistle into her mouth, and blew hard as she brought her hands down. All fourteen broomsticks rose slowly into the air, Oliver could see Harry rise faster than anyone else, but get battered about by the harsh wind. Oliver sped off towards his respectable position and waited for the game to begin. He let out a cry of frustration as random team mates and foes swept past him. He barely had time to register a quaffle zooming his way. With great effort, Oliver threw himself forward and managed to capture the quaffle before it was out of reach. If the crowd was cheering, Oliver could barely hear it. He threw the Quaffle to who he thought was Katie Bell, at least he or she was wearing red robes and that's all that mattered. Katie managed to capture the ball she was sure Oliver was passing to her, and zoomed off towards the opposite side of the pitch. She glanced desperately around for Angelina or Alicia. A bludger came pelting out of no where and Katie was forced to dive-bomb out of its way. Managing to regain control over the situation, Katie once again looked around for any sign of her team mates. Suddenly Alicia zoomed in beside Katie and frantically motioned for the quaffle to be passed towards her. Katie threw the quaffle with all her might, but it might as well have been throwing pieces of paper, for the wind picked the Quaffle up and managed to blow it out of Alicia's reach. Alicia pulled her broom up and turned swiftly towards the Quaffle, but was too little too late. A Hufflepuff Chaser, uneasy to identify, picked up the Quaffle and began to speed towards the Gryffindor goal posts. A bludger was sent his way by one of the Weasley Twins, but the chaser was agile enough to avoid it. A distant (clang) rang through the air, and Katie felt her heart drop, Hufflepuff had managed to put one past Oliver. Suddenly the shrill whistle of Madam Hooch came bursting through the air, as feeble as it was, all the players managed to hear it. Katie, Angelina, Alicia, Fred, George, and Harry came pelting down to the ground towards their expectant captain. "We're a couple of points up," Oliver bellowed, his hands cupped over his mouth like a megaphone. "Harry, can you spot the snitch, I prefer to end this as soon as possible," Oliver hollered fretfully. "I can't do anything with these," Harry hollered back in a disgruntled tone. Suddenly Katie saw Hermione dart out of the gloom and rush up to Harry. "Harry I just had an idea," Hermione shrieked excitedly. She grabbed Harry's glasses and whatever incantation she did, Katie never knew, but then Hermione explained. "They'll repel water," Hermione said, grinning broadly. Oliver looked as though he was about to kiss Hermione, and for a second, Katie felt a pang of jealousy. Where had that come from? She wondered mildly. Soon enough, the rest of the team were zooming back into the air, with higher hopes of Harry's better Snitch-seeking capabilities. The game continued to become brutal as Katie, Angelina, and Alicia rammed into various players by accident. Katie watched with horror as one bludger came pelting up, smashing itself against Angelina's elbow. Angelina shrieked with pain and lost grip of her broom for a bit. Katie and Alicia came up on both sides of Angelina to slow the girl down and support her. Angelina leaned heavily on Katie; her breathing labored. Suddenly things got extremely cold despite her rain-drenched robes, and Katie glanced below her. At least a hundred dementors were situated below them, all of them looking upwards. Katie felt sick to her stomach as every sad feeling invaded her. She barely had time to feel sorry for herself when something heavy whooshed past the trio of girls. A boy, an unconscious boy with jet-black hair and red rain-drenched robes came plummeting to the ground. "Harry!" Angelina, Alicia and Katie screamed in unison. Katie turned her head away from scene, expecting the worst. "Thank god, thank god," Angelina repeated breathlessly. "What happened?" Katie asked; her eyes squeezed shut. "It looks like Harry slowed down, it looks like Dumbledore managed to slow Harry down," Alicia said keenly, though sounding relieved. Katie glanced down, and managed to get a glimpse of the dementors retreating from the Quidditch pitch. "Absolute terrors," she grumbled. But even though she was relieved that Harry was safe, the way some of the Slytherins were going on about by their cheering, it seemed as though Gryffindor had lost its first match of the year. Katie squinted towards the Gryffindor goal-posts and saw Oliver's form floating in mid-air, motionless.
Oliver stood, frozen, in the luke-warm temperature of the shower. How he managed to make it to the showers, he didn't know. But all he knew was they had lost; they had lost the very first match of the Quidditch season. Did this mean that they were out of running for the Quidditch Cup and Final? Of course they weren't, but the thought of actually getting back onto the same track as the Quidditch Cup was unthinkable. He sighed as he finally reached over to shut the shower off. Oliver fumbled around, mind blank and uncooperative to work, for his towel. He managed to wrap it around himself after a few tries. "I can't believe we lost," Oliver grumbled, it felt like the end of the world for him. He knew that he should have rushed right away to the hospital wing; he knew he should have checked to see if Harry was alright. But he was just feeling so bummed out; he was also feeling selfish. Oliver made a promise to visit Harry the next day, but right now he felt like brooding by himself. Oliver managed to dress himself with numb fingers and just about stepped out of the Gryffindor shower room when he nearly had a heart attack. "Hello Oliver," a small, tentative voice murmured. Oliver didn't need to face who had spoken to know who it was. "Hello Aryianna," he answered back. "I wanted to say...," Aryianna began. "I don't really want to hear it," Oliver snapped, wincing at the tone his voice took. "You don't want to hear sympathy," Aryianna questioned in a flat tone. "I don't need it, we win or we lose. Either way, I don't want to hear anything right now," Oliver sighed as he started to stalk off. He heard Aryianna's footsteps behind him and he rolled his eyes. "You can go back to your common room," he spat out, "I'll be alright." "Don't shunt me aside Oliver," Aryianna hissed, a slight side of Slytherin attitude shining through. "Like the way you shunted me aside a few days ago, the way you've been avoiding me?" Oliver demanded, now stopping in his tracks and turning to fully face Aryianna. It had been true, ever since that night in the Great Hall, Aryianna had been avoiding Oliver. She never had been able to look him in the eye. "Look, I just came to say I'm sorry that Gryffindor lost and I hope that Harry would be alright," Aryianna pointed out, getting a bit annoyed. "Why are you sorry, aren't you happy that this boosts up Slytherin's chances at winning the house cup?" Oliver hissed. "This isn't about Slytherin, I came here to see you," Aryianna said in a would-be-calm voice, she wasn't about to erupt in front of Oliver. "Where's Marcus, is he off celebrating with his friends?" Oliver asked snidely. "I don't care where Marcus is right now," Aryianna muttered. "Why, is he off lolly-gagging with another girl? You aren't enough for him so he shoots you aside for a Gryffindor? What are you, a sloppy second or something?" as soon as the words had left his mouth, Oliver instantly wished he could have taken them back. Aryianna seemed to be boiling with suppressed rage. She took a few angry steps towards Oliver so that she was nearly in his face. What came next, Oliver least expected. The slap rang through the empty corridor; the sound deafening to match that of the friction. "Don't you dare insult me or my boyfriend," Aryianna growled. "Don't go rubbing salt into open wounds. That's so typical of Gryffindor's: finding opponents weak spot and attacking it," Aryianna said in a low, trembling voice. "You know nothing about me Oliver Wood, and therefore you have no right to criticize me or my relationship. I came here to give you sympathy and all you do is take it, throw it to the ground, and trample all over it," Aryianna was breathing heavily now, "it appears you haven't gotten off of your high horse, and that's quite disappointing," she then stalked off, leaving Oliver alone to ponder over what was said. Again.