*Chapter Two*
"...so beat back those Bludgers, boys, and chuck that Quaffle here!" Rachel sang
under her breath, then groaned. How one song could be so annoyingly catchy? She
nervously rocked back and forth, alternately placing all her weight on her right foot, then
left. This Oliver Wood was a hell of a good Keeper, she'd give him that. As the Quidditch
officials chucked Quaffles at him, he never let a single one enter the goal posts, and even
flew perfectly.
That boy had talent.
"But I can do just as good," she murmured to herself. "No...I can do BETTER."
Well....maybe.
"No, definitely," she said aloud. The other person trying out, a burly man in his
forties, looked curiously at her. She gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, then scowled
and stared at her shoes.
Great, Knight, now you're holding conversations with yourself, she thought
bitterly. You can get this position. You just HAVE to do your VERY best.
"All right, Wood, we've seen enough," Bryan Schafer said, grinning broadly.
Oliver came back down and got off his broom, and Schafer patted him on the back.
"Excellent work, son. Excellent."
"Thank you, Mr. Schafer," Oliver said with a charming smile. Rachel couldn't
help smiling as well...he was cute, too.
Very cute.
"All right...Mr. Haliwell," Schafer said. The forty-something guy who had
witnessed her fight with herself walked over, and Oliver came to stand next to Rachel.
"So..." Oliver said.
"So..." Rachel repeated, putting her hands on her hips.
He looked at her expectantly.
"If you think I'm going to compliment you, Wood, you're wrong on a million
different levels," Rachel said, smirking at him.
"Well, ex-cu-se me," Oliver said, dragging out the syllables. "I am so sorry to have
ever expected a compliment from someone of your high status, Queen Rachel."
"I MIGHT be able to forgive you," Rachel said nonchalantly, then smiled as
Haliwell allowed two Quaffles to enter the goal posts in a row.
"He's out," she murmured.
"Unless you do worse," Oliver reminded her with a cocky grin.
"As if," she shot back.
"Nice comeback," Oliver said sarcastically.
"Why are you being so sassy, Mr. Wood?" Rachel asked, immediately changing
her annoyed expression to one of complete and total innocence. "Don't you know how to
treat a lady?"
Oliver rolled his eyes at her and then fixed his eyes back on Haliwell.
Since when is HE so sarcastic? Rachel thought. That's MY department...he's
supposed to gawk at the perfect body and shimmering hair so I can make him feel like a
complete idiot.
At first, he'd been under her spell, no problem, but now he seemed to have fallen
out of it. It was like flying gave him some sort of intolerable confidence, and he no
longer lost the ability to speak coherently when around her.
Well, Oliver, she thought, glancing at him. This ought to be interesting...
~*~
"Oli! How did it go?!" Callen exclaimed, jumping up from the easy chair where
she was reading as soon as he Apparated into their living room. "You got it, didn't you?
Oh, of course you did..."
"I don't know," Oliver said, patting Callen lightly on the back as she threw her
arms around him. "Rachel was just as good as I was...maybe better."
"Rachel?! Rachel Knight Rachel?" Callen asked, confused.
"That's the one," Oliver said a bit bitterly. That position had been his, HIS! Why
had Rachel had to show up?? Haliwell had been no match against him...he'd have it now
if it wasn't for her.
"Oh goodness...yes, she was quite the Quidditch player, from what she told me in
her letters," Callen said, looking uncomfortable.
"Well, if you want to, go right ahead and hope she gets it," Oliver said bitterly. He
knew he was being childish, but at the moment he really didn't care. The Keeper position
was EVERYTHING to him, and now there was only a fifty percent chance that he'd get
it.
"Oh, Oli, you know I want you to get it," Callen said, smiling at him. "There's no
one I'd want to be a famous Quidditch player more than my baby brother." She hugged
him again. "I know you'll get it-you're the best Keeper in the world."
Normally, Oliver would have listed all the popular pro Keepers and scolded his
sister for her lack of Quidditch knowledge, but instead he just forced a smile and hugged
her back.
After all, he COULD get it.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
And if he didn't, it wasn't the end of the world...
Well....
Yes it was.
Perhaps he could attempt to drown himself in the shower again.
~*~
"Hey, Cal," Rachel sang out as she Apparated into the living room, then dropped
the six-pack of butterbeer she'd just purchased onto the couch.
"Want one?" she asked, taking one for herself.
Callen shook her head, and Rachel shrugged, then opened her own and took a sip.
"Not very talkative," Rachel commented as she picked up an old issue of Witch
Weekly from the coffee table and began to flip through it.
"Sorry," Callen said softly.
"It's not a crime."
Callen was silent again for a moment.
"Callen, what is it?" Rachel finally asked.
"It's...Oliver," Callen finally said.
"Dear old Oli? What about 'im?"
"And you...and Puddlemere United."
"Ahhh, I see," Rachel said. "I'm kind of worried about that...neither of us let any
Quaffles through the goal posts, and so I really have no clue who's gonna get it."
"Yeah, that's it," Callen said. "Oliver tends to get very...obsessive."
"Oh?" Rachel asked, amused.
Callen laughed. "When it comes to Quidditch, oh yeah. He's TOTALLY
obsessed...he was made captain in his third year for the Gryffindor house team at
Hogwarts, and they actually won the cup-Harry Potter was on his team, I swear he was
his pride and joy. Quidditch and how Harry Potter was his Seeker was all he spoke of at
holidays. And since he graduated and got accepted as a reserve for Puddlemere United,
that's been everything. And he wants this Keeper position SO badly..."
"Well, if I get it, he's just going to have to deal," Rachel said, shrugging. "He's a
big boy, I'm sure he'll survive."
"Well, the thing is I don't know about that," Callen said, biting her lip nervously.
"When they lost a match in his seventh year, one of his friends told me he tried to drown
himself in the showers..."
"Whoa," Rachel said, laughing shortly. "Now, that's just a bit TOO obsessive."
"Tell me about it," Callen sighed. "But that's just the way Oliver is. And...I was
wondering if you could...for me...just maybe..."
"Drop it?" Rachel asked shortly.
"Yes," Callen said, her tone full of relief. "Oh, thank you, Rach-"
"Forget it," Rachel said flatly. "I've wanted to play pro Quidditch for a while now,
and I'm not gonna give up my chance just because your baby brother's lifelong hopes and
dreams may be crushed."
Behind her glasses, Callen's eyes lit up in anger.
"Fine," she said, then stood up and stomped out of the living room, but not before
taking one of the butterbeers.
Rachel felt her heart drop, then began to lecture herself.
"Ugh, I'm NOT going to feel bad about this...it's not my fault that her somewhat
attractive brother's life might be ruined if I get this position. It's just some twisted
working of fate, and I'm not going to let it ruin my career."
"Just SOMEWHAT attractive?" an oh-too-familiar male voice asked behind her,
full of amusement.
Damn! Rachel thought fiercely, clenching her hands into fists so tightly that her
fingernails dug into her skin.
"I prefer devilishly good looking...AND single," Oliver said, coming over and
sitting down on the sofa next to her.
"Don't try your lame pick-up lines on me," Rachel advised. "I may not be able to
resist the urge to-"
"Kiss me passionately?" Oliver asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"-Punch you," Rachel finished crossly.
"I was close," Oliver said, grinning.
"Why so cheerful?" Rachel asked. "From what I heard from your sister, you're
seriously considering suicide at the moment."
"Nah," Oliver said brightly. "I just...realized something that brightened my mood
a lot."
"And that is...?"
"I-"
"PLEASE don't let the next words out of your mouth be 'love' and 'you'," Rachel
said dryly.
"Don't worry," Oliver said. "I just remembered that all Puddlemere United players
happen to be men."
"So?"
"So they would most likely accept a male player over a female, and the other
male was awful," Oliver said, grinning. "And that leaves...who was it again? Oh yes-me!"
"You are SO annoying," Rachel scowled. "And you don't KNOW that they won't
accept a woman. I mean, it's about time to change if they have some sexist rule like that."
"Maybe," Oliver said, still smiling so wide that it was downright frightening.
Rachel currently wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face at the
moment-maybe that'd wipe the smile off. "Ooh, butterbeer."
He took one of them, opened it, and took a long swig.
"Did I SAY you could take that?" Rachel asked. "Honestly, Oli, you need to work
on some manners."
Oliver ignored her and held up his butterbeer. "To the future Keeper for
Puddlemere United."
Rachel clinked her bottle to his. "Cheers...may the best WOman win."
~*~
Try as he might, Oliver couldn't wipe the giddy smile from his face for the rest of
the day. He was going to get that position, he was sure of it! Puddlemere United had
never had a female player...it was unheard of, practically a sin! Rachel would never get
the position, no matter how good she was.
I hope she's not too brokenhearted, he thought happily as he stared out his
bedroom window. The sun was just setting, painting brilliant oranges and reds across the
sky, and he suddenly had the urge to grab his Nimbus 2001 and take a quick ride before
he went to sleep.
The perfect way to end the perfect day, he thought as he put on a flannel
long-sleeved shirt over his gray T-shirt, grabbed his broom from the corner where he kept
it, and walked down the stairs and out the door. He took a deep breath of the slightly
brisk air, then got on his broom and pushed off. Up he soared, the wind blowing across
his face and through his hair.
This, he thought happily, Is the life.
The wind seemed to be almost singing to him, softly and sweetly. Oliver closed
his eyes to listen, then realized that the song had actual words-it definitely wasn't the
wind.
Even though he'd only heard her sing once before, he recognized the voice.
Rachel.
"Love lifts us up where we belong," she sang, her voice growing more loud and
confident with each note. "Where eagles fly on a mountain high..."
She really did have a gift.
"Hey, Celestina," Oliver yelled at her where she stood about fifteen feet below.
She looked up and gave him her signature smirk, though it seemed to be half
smile that time.
"Hey, Oli," she called back, smiling.
"Beautiful singing," Oliver complimented in a stuffy voice. "Simply splendid,
dahling."
"Yup, I'm the next Celestina Warbeck, all right," she said with a short laugh.
"Why don't you come join the rest of us down on solid ground?"
"But-" Oliver began to warble horribly off-key. "Love lifts us up where we
beeeelong!"
Rachel winced, then said, "I told you not to say you loved me or I'd punch you."
Oliver felt his cheeks heat up. "I...I wasn't talking about you, I-"
"Shut up, I know," Rachel said. "Now get down here."
"Yes, Ma'am!" he barked, then saluted and flew down to ground, still sitting on
his broom about three feet above the ground.
"So...whatcha doin' out here?" she asked. "Just-" she put on a dramatic tone.
"-letting yourself become one with nature and experience the beauty that is the setting of
the sun?"
"Pretty much," Oliver said with a laugh.
"Yeah," Rachel smiled. "Same here."
A silence filled the air between them. It wasn't awkward, or distant, or
unfriendly.
No, it was the good ol' pre-kiss silence.
Oliver knew how stupid it would be to kiss her-he'd only known her since that
morning, for one thing, and they would absolutely hate each other if one of them got the
Keeper position, for another.
But at that moment, with the sun setting and the brilliant oranges and yellows
dancing across Rachel's golden hair, and her staring at him expectantly, he really couldn't
help himself.
He pressed his lips to hers, and immediately felt...different. Content...complete,
somehow.
He'd kissed a few girls before, but it hadn't been like this...he didn't know it was
even supposed to be like this.
Bliss, sheer and total bliss, and then-
"Wait a sec," Rachel pulled away from him.
"What?" Oliver asked, wrapping his arms around her.
"You DO realize that one of us is gonna get the Keeper position, and then we'll
hate each other."
"Yup."
"And that there is about a thousandth of a chance that this will work out?"
"Yup."
"And that your sister is watching us right now from the window?"
"Yup."
Rachel smiled. "All right, then," she said, and leaned back in to kiss him again.
~*~
Disclaimer: Everything HP related that you recognize belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling. The song 'Up Where We Belong' belongs to...well, I don't know, but it isn't mine. And the "devilishly good-looking and single" thing belongs to Sean Biggerstaff, which he said about himself in an interview. :)
A/N: A bit fluffy, I agree, and it normally would seem OOC, but Oliver never really had a character in the books except for being Quidditch-obsessed, and Rachel's MY character! So *ha!* :) teehee :) Okey doke, wonderful readers, you know what your job is now...REVIEW! :D You guys are the best.
"...so beat back those Bludgers, boys, and chuck that Quaffle here!" Rachel sang
under her breath, then groaned. How one song could be so annoyingly catchy? She
nervously rocked back and forth, alternately placing all her weight on her right foot, then
left. This Oliver Wood was a hell of a good Keeper, she'd give him that. As the Quidditch
officials chucked Quaffles at him, he never let a single one enter the goal posts, and even
flew perfectly.
That boy had talent.
"But I can do just as good," she murmured to herself. "No...I can do BETTER."
Well....maybe.
"No, definitely," she said aloud. The other person trying out, a burly man in his
forties, looked curiously at her. She gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, then scowled
and stared at her shoes.
Great, Knight, now you're holding conversations with yourself, she thought
bitterly. You can get this position. You just HAVE to do your VERY best.
"All right, Wood, we've seen enough," Bryan Schafer said, grinning broadly.
Oliver came back down and got off his broom, and Schafer patted him on the back.
"Excellent work, son. Excellent."
"Thank you, Mr. Schafer," Oliver said with a charming smile. Rachel couldn't
help smiling as well...he was cute, too.
Very cute.
"All right...Mr. Haliwell," Schafer said. The forty-something guy who had
witnessed her fight with herself walked over, and Oliver came to stand next to Rachel.
"So..." Oliver said.
"So..." Rachel repeated, putting her hands on her hips.
He looked at her expectantly.
"If you think I'm going to compliment you, Wood, you're wrong on a million
different levels," Rachel said, smirking at him.
"Well, ex-cu-se me," Oliver said, dragging out the syllables. "I am so sorry to have
ever expected a compliment from someone of your high status, Queen Rachel."
"I MIGHT be able to forgive you," Rachel said nonchalantly, then smiled as
Haliwell allowed two Quaffles to enter the goal posts in a row.
"He's out," she murmured.
"Unless you do worse," Oliver reminded her with a cocky grin.
"As if," she shot back.
"Nice comeback," Oliver said sarcastically.
"Why are you being so sassy, Mr. Wood?" Rachel asked, immediately changing
her annoyed expression to one of complete and total innocence. "Don't you know how to
treat a lady?"
Oliver rolled his eyes at her and then fixed his eyes back on Haliwell.
Since when is HE so sarcastic? Rachel thought. That's MY department...he's
supposed to gawk at the perfect body and shimmering hair so I can make him feel like a
complete idiot.
At first, he'd been under her spell, no problem, but now he seemed to have fallen
out of it. It was like flying gave him some sort of intolerable confidence, and he no
longer lost the ability to speak coherently when around her.
Well, Oliver, she thought, glancing at him. This ought to be interesting...
~*~
"Oli! How did it go?!" Callen exclaimed, jumping up from the easy chair where
she was reading as soon as he Apparated into their living room. "You got it, didn't you?
Oh, of course you did..."
"I don't know," Oliver said, patting Callen lightly on the back as she threw her
arms around him. "Rachel was just as good as I was...maybe better."
"Rachel?! Rachel Knight Rachel?" Callen asked, confused.
"That's the one," Oliver said a bit bitterly. That position had been his, HIS! Why
had Rachel had to show up?? Haliwell had been no match against him...he'd have it now
if it wasn't for her.
"Oh goodness...yes, she was quite the Quidditch player, from what she told me in
her letters," Callen said, looking uncomfortable.
"Well, if you want to, go right ahead and hope she gets it," Oliver said bitterly. He
knew he was being childish, but at the moment he really didn't care. The Keeper position
was EVERYTHING to him, and now there was only a fifty percent chance that he'd get
it.
"Oh, Oli, you know I want you to get it," Callen said, smiling at him. "There's no
one I'd want to be a famous Quidditch player more than my baby brother." She hugged
him again. "I know you'll get it-you're the best Keeper in the world."
Normally, Oliver would have listed all the popular pro Keepers and scolded his
sister for her lack of Quidditch knowledge, but instead he just forced a smile and hugged
her back.
After all, he COULD get it.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
And if he didn't, it wasn't the end of the world...
Well....
Yes it was.
Perhaps he could attempt to drown himself in the shower again.
~*~
"Hey, Cal," Rachel sang out as she Apparated into the living room, then dropped
the six-pack of butterbeer she'd just purchased onto the couch.
"Want one?" she asked, taking one for herself.
Callen shook her head, and Rachel shrugged, then opened her own and took a sip.
"Not very talkative," Rachel commented as she picked up an old issue of Witch
Weekly from the coffee table and began to flip through it.
"Sorry," Callen said softly.
"It's not a crime."
Callen was silent again for a moment.
"Callen, what is it?" Rachel finally asked.
"It's...Oliver," Callen finally said.
"Dear old Oli? What about 'im?"
"And you...and Puddlemere United."
"Ahhh, I see," Rachel said. "I'm kind of worried about that...neither of us let any
Quaffles through the goal posts, and so I really have no clue who's gonna get it."
"Yeah, that's it," Callen said. "Oliver tends to get very...obsessive."
"Oh?" Rachel asked, amused.
Callen laughed. "When it comes to Quidditch, oh yeah. He's TOTALLY
obsessed...he was made captain in his third year for the Gryffindor house team at
Hogwarts, and they actually won the cup-Harry Potter was on his team, I swear he was
his pride and joy. Quidditch and how Harry Potter was his Seeker was all he spoke of at
holidays. And since he graduated and got accepted as a reserve for Puddlemere United,
that's been everything. And he wants this Keeper position SO badly..."
"Well, if I get it, he's just going to have to deal," Rachel said, shrugging. "He's a
big boy, I'm sure he'll survive."
"Well, the thing is I don't know about that," Callen said, biting her lip nervously.
"When they lost a match in his seventh year, one of his friends told me he tried to drown
himself in the showers..."
"Whoa," Rachel said, laughing shortly. "Now, that's just a bit TOO obsessive."
"Tell me about it," Callen sighed. "But that's just the way Oliver is. And...I was
wondering if you could...for me...just maybe..."
"Drop it?" Rachel asked shortly.
"Yes," Callen said, her tone full of relief. "Oh, thank you, Rach-"
"Forget it," Rachel said flatly. "I've wanted to play pro Quidditch for a while now,
and I'm not gonna give up my chance just because your baby brother's lifelong hopes and
dreams may be crushed."
Behind her glasses, Callen's eyes lit up in anger.
"Fine," she said, then stood up and stomped out of the living room, but not before
taking one of the butterbeers.
Rachel felt her heart drop, then began to lecture herself.
"Ugh, I'm NOT going to feel bad about this...it's not my fault that her somewhat
attractive brother's life might be ruined if I get this position. It's just some twisted
working of fate, and I'm not going to let it ruin my career."
"Just SOMEWHAT attractive?" an oh-too-familiar male voice asked behind her,
full of amusement.
Damn! Rachel thought fiercely, clenching her hands into fists so tightly that her
fingernails dug into her skin.
"I prefer devilishly good looking...AND single," Oliver said, coming over and
sitting down on the sofa next to her.
"Don't try your lame pick-up lines on me," Rachel advised. "I may not be able to
resist the urge to-"
"Kiss me passionately?" Oliver asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"-Punch you," Rachel finished crossly.
"I was close," Oliver said, grinning.
"Why so cheerful?" Rachel asked. "From what I heard from your sister, you're
seriously considering suicide at the moment."
"Nah," Oliver said brightly. "I just...realized something that brightened my mood
a lot."
"And that is...?"
"I-"
"PLEASE don't let the next words out of your mouth be 'love' and 'you'," Rachel
said dryly.
"Don't worry," Oliver said. "I just remembered that all Puddlemere United players
happen to be men."
"So?"
"So they would most likely accept a male player over a female, and the other
male was awful," Oliver said, grinning. "And that leaves...who was it again? Oh yes-me!"
"You are SO annoying," Rachel scowled. "And you don't KNOW that they won't
accept a woman. I mean, it's about time to change if they have some sexist rule like that."
"Maybe," Oliver said, still smiling so wide that it was downright frightening.
Rachel currently wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face at the
moment-maybe that'd wipe the smile off. "Ooh, butterbeer."
He took one of them, opened it, and took a long swig.
"Did I SAY you could take that?" Rachel asked. "Honestly, Oli, you need to work
on some manners."
Oliver ignored her and held up his butterbeer. "To the future Keeper for
Puddlemere United."
Rachel clinked her bottle to his. "Cheers...may the best WOman win."
~*~
Try as he might, Oliver couldn't wipe the giddy smile from his face for the rest of
the day. He was going to get that position, he was sure of it! Puddlemere United had
never had a female player...it was unheard of, practically a sin! Rachel would never get
the position, no matter how good she was.
I hope she's not too brokenhearted, he thought happily as he stared out his
bedroom window. The sun was just setting, painting brilliant oranges and reds across the
sky, and he suddenly had the urge to grab his Nimbus 2001 and take a quick ride before
he went to sleep.
The perfect way to end the perfect day, he thought as he put on a flannel
long-sleeved shirt over his gray T-shirt, grabbed his broom from the corner where he kept
it, and walked down the stairs and out the door. He took a deep breath of the slightly
brisk air, then got on his broom and pushed off. Up he soared, the wind blowing across
his face and through his hair.
This, he thought happily, Is the life.
The wind seemed to be almost singing to him, softly and sweetly. Oliver closed
his eyes to listen, then realized that the song had actual words-it definitely wasn't the
wind.
Even though he'd only heard her sing once before, he recognized the voice.
Rachel.
"Love lifts us up where we belong," she sang, her voice growing more loud and
confident with each note. "Where eagles fly on a mountain high..."
She really did have a gift.
"Hey, Celestina," Oliver yelled at her where she stood about fifteen feet below.
She looked up and gave him her signature smirk, though it seemed to be half
smile that time.
"Hey, Oli," she called back, smiling.
"Beautiful singing," Oliver complimented in a stuffy voice. "Simply splendid,
dahling."
"Yup, I'm the next Celestina Warbeck, all right," she said with a short laugh.
"Why don't you come join the rest of us down on solid ground?"
"But-" Oliver began to warble horribly off-key. "Love lifts us up where we
beeeelong!"
Rachel winced, then said, "I told you not to say you loved me or I'd punch you."
Oliver felt his cheeks heat up. "I...I wasn't talking about you, I-"
"Shut up, I know," Rachel said. "Now get down here."
"Yes, Ma'am!" he barked, then saluted and flew down to ground, still sitting on
his broom about three feet above the ground.
"So...whatcha doin' out here?" she asked. "Just-" she put on a dramatic tone.
"-letting yourself become one with nature and experience the beauty that is the setting of
the sun?"
"Pretty much," Oliver said with a laugh.
"Yeah," Rachel smiled. "Same here."
A silence filled the air between them. It wasn't awkward, or distant, or
unfriendly.
No, it was the good ol' pre-kiss silence.
Oliver knew how stupid it would be to kiss her-he'd only known her since that
morning, for one thing, and they would absolutely hate each other if one of them got the
Keeper position, for another.
But at that moment, with the sun setting and the brilliant oranges and yellows
dancing across Rachel's golden hair, and her staring at him expectantly, he really couldn't
help himself.
He pressed his lips to hers, and immediately felt...different. Content...complete,
somehow.
He'd kissed a few girls before, but it hadn't been like this...he didn't know it was
even supposed to be like this.
Bliss, sheer and total bliss, and then-
"Wait a sec," Rachel pulled away from him.
"What?" Oliver asked, wrapping his arms around her.
"You DO realize that one of us is gonna get the Keeper position, and then we'll
hate each other."
"Yup."
"And that there is about a thousandth of a chance that this will work out?"
"Yup."
"And that your sister is watching us right now from the window?"
"Yup."
Rachel smiled. "All right, then," she said, and leaned back in to kiss him again.
~*~
Disclaimer: Everything HP related that you recognize belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling. The song 'Up Where We Belong' belongs to...well, I don't know, but it isn't mine. And the "devilishly good-looking and single" thing belongs to Sean Biggerstaff, which he said about himself in an interview. :)
A/N: A bit fluffy, I agree, and it normally would seem OOC, but Oliver never really had a character in the books except for being Quidditch-obsessed, and Rachel's MY character! So *ha!* :) teehee :) Okey doke, wonderful readers, you know what your job is now...REVIEW! :D You guys are the best.
