A/N: *sigh* And here it is, my friends :) The sixth and final chapter of For the Love of Quidditch...this is the first chapter fic I've actually completed! *dances around* Anyway, thank you all for the reviews. You guys are absolutely AWESOME :) Tragically, poor Oliver has been replaced in the heart of Rachel (the real one, my friend-BTW, she isn't at all like the Rachel in the story, so don't worry :) I've received a few reviews implying that they hoped she wasn't really like that *hehehe*) by Legolas the elf in Lord of the Rings. *sigh* Poor Oli.
All righty, I'll quit rambling...here it is, the final installment :) It's very short, I know, but live with it ;)
Once again, all you reader/reviewer peoples, YOU ARE THE BEST! Say it to yourself a few times. And then review again :) I love you guys!
~*~
Chapter Six
Surprisingly, when Oliver awoke the next morning, he felt somewhat...happy. Over the past month, the emotion had seemed to disappear from his life, but he actually smiled when Athena purred a good morning to him.
"Good morning to you too, Miss A," he grinned, practically hopping out of bed. He had absolutely no idea what had brought on this change of attitude...for some reason, he just had the feeling that something good was going to happen that day.
That 'something good' revealed itself at breakfast. He and Callen were sitting down to bowls of cornflakes and orange juice when an owl flew in through the open kitchen window.
"Oli, would you get that?" Callen, who was busy stuffing her face with cereal, asked.
"Sure," Oliver replied, rising from the table and going over to the owl, then detaching the envelope from its foot. To his surprise, it read his name across the front.
"I wonder what this is," he muttered, slitting open the envelope as the owl flew back out the window. He unfolded the letter, then let out a strangled sort of cry as he scanned the words.
'Dear Mr. Wood,
We at Puddlemere United realize now that we made a huge mistake when choosing a Keeper for our vacant position. Ms. Knight, who originally got the position, pointed out that you were much more talented at try-outs before resigning. We'd be incredibly grateful if you'd meet with us tomorrow morning to accept or decline the position. Would breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron at 9:30 be convenient for you?
I await your owl.
Bryan Schafer
Puddlemere United Captain'
"Cal...oh my God!" Oliver exclaimed, letting the letter fall to the floor and running over to his sister. He threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly, pulling away only when she said, "Oli, honey, I'm having some trouble BREATHING, so if you don't mind..."
"I got it, Cal, I got it!" Oliver shouted happily.
"What?" Callen asked.
"The Keeper position...Rachel resigned, and it's MINE!"
"Aaaah!" Callen shrieked in delight, throwing her arms around him. "Oooh, they probably kicked her right out when they realized how much better you were! Oli, you know you deserved it!"
"Well," Oliver said, eyeing the letter on the ground, "It said she resigned."
"Resigned?" Callen asked lightly. "Well, she probably just realized what a bitch she was being and that the position OBVIOUSLY belonged to you."
"I guess," Oliver shrugged. "But she REALLY wanted that position."
"Oli, who knows what she wanted?" Callen asked. "You knew her for forty-eight hours, and Rachel changes her mind a LOT."
Oliver nodded weakly. "Yeah, I suppose..."
He stared down at the letter once more, filled with confusion. For so long, he'd wanted this position more than anything, and he still did...
But why did Rachel give it up?
He had the feeling he needed some answers from her before accepting it.
And that meant finding her today.
~*~
"The French are glad to die for love," Rachel sang to herself as she placed a pink blouse into her suitcase. "They delight in fighting duels...but I prefer a man who lives and gives expensive jewels."
Marilyn Monroe knew what she was talking about, Rachel decided. Men were idiots. But rich ones COULD get you some nice jewelry.
"Diamonds are a girl's best friend," she proclaimed to the empty room, enjoying the feeling she got every time she was really belting out a song.
As Rachel put her final article of clothing, a pair of black jeans, into her suitcase and closed it, she sighed. Where she was going was a mystery to her, but she was sure she'd figure it out sometime. Maybe Paris to visit some of her Beauxbatons friends...her French had been getting a bit rusty, and it wouldn't hurt to brush up on it.
Or America, for no particular reason at all. She'd just like to get away from here.
And what her parents would say when they found out she'd given up the position. When she'd first gotten it, she'd owled them and told them so, and the day before she'd sent them another announcing that she'd resigned. Her father would be furious, no doubt about it-ever since he'd discovered that at age five Rachel could fly without falling off the broom, he'd been convinced his little girl would be a star Quidditch player.
He'd laughed when she'd told him she wanted to sing.
Rachel could still remember it perfectly...she'd been nine years old, clad in her mother's way-too-big dress robes and sporting bright red lipstick she'd found in her mum's drawer in the bathroom. Mrs. Knight had thought it adorable when Rachel danced around the house, singing Celestina Warbeck into a hairbrush.
But then, when she'd told her father...
'A singer? Why would you want to do something like that? You couldn't make it, Rachey...hardly anyone makes it in that business, and while you're talented, I'm not sure you're talented enough. Stick to something you're really good at, honey...like Quidditch!'
She'd always sort of hated him since.
It was stupid of her, and she knew it...her father hadn't been trying to be mean. He was just being his usual insensitive self.
"Square-cut or pear-shaped these rocks don't lose their shape," Rachel sang absently under her breath as she ran a brush through her hair. "Diamonds are a girl's-"
A knock on the door interrupted her.
"Miss Knight?"
"What is it?" Rachel called back, tossing the brush onto the bed and walking over to answer the door. When she swung it open, Tom was revealed, and someone was standing behind him...
Oliver.
"This young man came to see you," Tom said, giving her a wink before turning around and disappearing from sight.
"Uh...hey," Oliver greeted her lamely.
"Hi," Rachel replied, giving him a smile and ignoring the way her heart began to race. "Why're you here?"
"I need to talk to you," Oliver said seriously.
"Shoot," Rachel said.
However, he remained silent, and his eyes fell upon the suitcase on her bed.
"You're leaving?" Oliver asked.
"Yeah," Rachel replied. "Much as I'd love to live in a dingy old hotel room for the rest of my life, I think it's time to move on."
Oliver laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I guess...well..."
He fell silent again.
"Oli, I don't have all day," Rachel announced. "So can you just say what you wanna say and get it over with?"
"I was just wondering," Oliver replied, "Why you gave up the position...you seemed like you wanted it a lot."
Rachel shrugged. "It wasn't as great as I thought it would be. The guys were all jackasses and the manager kept ogling me."
"It's difficult not to," Oliver said teasingly.
"Oh, yes, I know," Rachel said airily, "I'm such the ravishing beauty."
Oliver nodded. "Completely and totally."
The joking air disappeared from his tone, and he asked slowly, "So you really don't mind giving me the position?"
Rachel shook her head.
"Nope," she said sincerely. "I'd rather sing or something...my parents would love that."
Oliver gave her a half smile. "Well, if you're sure..."
"I'm positive," Rachel said with a smile. "Now, much as I'd love to stick around and chat, I've gotta figure out where I'm going."
Oliver was quiet for a moment before replying. "You don't have to go, you know...you could come stay with me and Cal again."
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure Cal would love that," said Rachel sarcastically. "We're just on the best terms right now."
"She wouldn't mind," Oliver assured her. "It's just...do you really have to leave?"
"Why?" Rachel asked with a somewhat flirty smile. "Would you miss me?"
"Sort of," Oliver replied.
"What?" Rachel gasped. "Only sort of?"
"Well," Oliver said, "I'd miss what I know...but we don't really know one another that well. And I'd like you to stay so we could get to know each other."
Rachel felt herself wavering...maybe she COULD stay for just a while.
"You think you're so charming, don't you?" asked Rachel, grinning.
"That wasn't really what I was going for," replied Oliver, returning her smile. "But now that I think about it, of course I am."
"And oh so modest," Rachel added.
"Yup, modest," Oliver agreed. "Another one of my many great characteristics."
Rachel rolled her eyes at him.
"So, whaddya say?" Oliver asked. "Will you stay?"
Like I'd say no, Rachel thought to herself. But she decided it would be kinda fun to torture him for a while...
"Maybe," Rachel said. "Depends."
"On what?"
Rachel took a few steps closer. "On whether you'll take me downstairs and buy me another one of those lethal green drink thingies."
Oliver shook his head vigorously. "Nuh uh. No way. I am NOT letting you get completely trashed again."
Rachel smiled. "Good, 'cause I wouldn't have ever forgiven you if you did."
"Well, then, Miss Knight," Oliver said coyly, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Have I passed your little test?"
Rachel shook her head. "Nope, not yet. First you have to do two things."
"Name it."
"Okay, you must A, take me down to Fortescue's and buy me some ice cream."
"Will do," Oliver smiled.
"And B, you have to kiss me."
Oliver's smile turned into a full-out grin.
"With pleasure."
He pressed his lips to hers, and Rachel allowed herself to enjoy the ridiculously giddy, almost dizzying sensation. After a few moments, they pulled apart and a lazy smile formed on Rachel's face and she opened her lips to speak.
"And they lived happily ever after."
Oliver grinned, then added, "The end."
All righty, I'll quit rambling...here it is, the final installment :) It's very short, I know, but live with it ;)
Once again, all you reader/reviewer peoples, YOU ARE THE BEST! Say it to yourself a few times. And then review again :) I love you guys!
~*~
Chapter Six
Surprisingly, when Oliver awoke the next morning, he felt somewhat...happy. Over the past month, the emotion had seemed to disappear from his life, but he actually smiled when Athena purred a good morning to him.
"Good morning to you too, Miss A," he grinned, practically hopping out of bed. He had absolutely no idea what had brought on this change of attitude...for some reason, he just had the feeling that something good was going to happen that day.
That 'something good' revealed itself at breakfast. He and Callen were sitting down to bowls of cornflakes and orange juice when an owl flew in through the open kitchen window.
"Oli, would you get that?" Callen, who was busy stuffing her face with cereal, asked.
"Sure," Oliver replied, rising from the table and going over to the owl, then detaching the envelope from its foot. To his surprise, it read his name across the front.
"I wonder what this is," he muttered, slitting open the envelope as the owl flew back out the window. He unfolded the letter, then let out a strangled sort of cry as he scanned the words.
'Dear Mr. Wood,
We at Puddlemere United realize now that we made a huge mistake when choosing a Keeper for our vacant position. Ms. Knight, who originally got the position, pointed out that you were much more talented at try-outs before resigning. We'd be incredibly grateful if you'd meet with us tomorrow morning to accept or decline the position. Would breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron at 9:30 be convenient for you?
I await your owl.
Bryan Schafer
Puddlemere United Captain'
"Cal...oh my God!" Oliver exclaimed, letting the letter fall to the floor and running over to his sister. He threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly, pulling away only when she said, "Oli, honey, I'm having some trouble BREATHING, so if you don't mind..."
"I got it, Cal, I got it!" Oliver shouted happily.
"What?" Callen asked.
"The Keeper position...Rachel resigned, and it's MINE!"
"Aaaah!" Callen shrieked in delight, throwing her arms around him. "Oooh, they probably kicked her right out when they realized how much better you were! Oli, you know you deserved it!"
"Well," Oliver said, eyeing the letter on the ground, "It said she resigned."
"Resigned?" Callen asked lightly. "Well, she probably just realized what a bitch she was being and that the position OBVIOUSLY belonged to you."
"I guess," Oliver shrugged. "But she REALLY wanted that position."
"Oli, who knows what she wanted?" Callen asked. "You knew her for forty-eight hours, and Rachel changes her mind a LOT."
Oliver nodded weakly. "Yeah, I suppose..."
He stared down at the letter once more, filled with confusion. For so long, he'd wanted this position more than anything, and he still did...
But why did Rachel give it up?
He had the feeling he needed some answers from her before accepting it.
And that meant finding her today.
~*~
"The French are glad to die for love," Rachel sang to herself as she placed a pink blouse into her suitcase. "They delight in fighting duels...but I prefer a man who lives and gives expensive jewels."
Marilyn Monroe knew what she was talking about, Rachel decided. Men were idiots. But rich ones COULD get you some nice jewelry.
"Diamonds are a girl's best friend," she proclaimed to the empty room, enjoying the feeling she got every time she was really belting out a song.
As Rachel put her final article of clothing, a pair of black jeans, into her suitcase and closed it, she sighed. Where she was going was a mystery to her, but she was sure she'd figure it out sometime. Maybe Paris to visit some of her Beauxbatons friends...her French had been getting a bit rusty, and it wouldn't hurt to brush up on it.
Or America, for no particular reason at all. She'd just like to get away from here.
And what her parents would say when they found out she'd given up the position. When she'd first gotten it, she'd owled them and told them so, and the day before she'd sent them another announcing that she'd resigned. Her father would be furious, no doubt about it-ever since he'd discovered that at age five Rachel could fly without falling off the broom, he'd been convinced his little girl would be a star Quidditch player.
He'd laughed when she'd told him she wanted to sing.
Rachel could still remember it perfectly...she'd been nine years old, clad in her mother's way-too-big dress robes and sporting bright red lipstick she'd found in her mum's drawer in the bathroom. Mrs. Knight had thought it adorable when Rachel danced around the house, singing Celestina Warbeck into a hairbrush.
But then, when she'd told her father...
'A singer? Why would you want to do something like that? You couldn't make it, Rachey...hardly anyone makes it in that business, and while you're talented, I'm not sure you're talented enough. Stick to something you're really good at, honey...like Quidditch!'
She'd always sort of hated him since.
It was stupid of her, and she knew it...her father hadn't been trying to be mean. He was just being his usual insensitive self.
"Square-cut or pear-shaped these rocks don't lose their shape," Rachel sang absently under her breath as she ran a brush through her hair. "Diamonds are a girl's-"
A knock on the door interrupted her.
"Miss Knight?"
"What is it?" Rachel called back, tossing the brush onto the bed and walking over to answer the door. When she swung it open, Tom was revealed, and someone was standing behind him...
Oliver.
"This young man came to see you," Tom said, giving her a wink before turning around and disappearing from sight.
"Uh...hey," Oliver greeted her lamely.
"Hi," Rachel replied, giving him a smile and ignoring the way her heart began to race. "Why're you here?"
"I need to talk to you," Oliver said seriously.
"Shoot," Rachel said.
However, he remained silent, and his eyes fell upon the suitcase on her bed.
"You're leaving?" Oliver asked.
"Yeah," Rachel replied. "Much as I'd love to live in a dingy old hotel room for the rest of my life, I think it's time to move on."
Oliver laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I guess...well..."
He fell silent again.
"Oli, I don't have all day," Rachel announced. "So can you just say what you wanna say and get it over with?"
"I was just wondering," Oliver replied, "Why you gave up the position...you seemed like you wanted it a lot."
Rachel shrugged. "It wasn't as great as I thought it would be. The guys were all jackasses and the manager kept ogling me."
"It's difficult not to," Oliver said teasingly.
"Oh, yes, I know," Rachel said airily, "I'm such the ravishing beauty."
Oliver nodded. "Completely and totally."
The joking air disappeared from his tone, and he asked slowly, "So you really don't mind giving me the position?"
Rachel shook her head.
"Nope," she said sincerely. "I'd rather sing or something...my parents would love that."
Oliver gave her a half smile. "Well, if you're sure..."
"I'm positive," Rachel said with a smile. "Now, much as I'd love to stick around and chat, I've gotta figure out where I'm going."
Oliver was quiet for a moment before replying. "You don't have to go, you know...you could come stay with me and Cal again."
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure Cal would love that," said Rachel sarcastically. "We're just on the best terms right now."
"She wouldn't mind," Oliver assured her. "It's just...do you really have to leave?"
"Why?" Rachel asked with a somewhat flirty smile. "Would you miss me?"
"Sort of," Oliver replied.
"What?" Rachel gasped. "Only sort of?"
"Well," Oliver said, "I'd miss what I know...but we don't really know one another that well. And I'd like you to stay so we could get to know each other."
Rachel felt herself wavering...maybe she COULD stay for just a while.
"You think you're so charming, don't you?" asked Rachel, grinning.
"That wasn't really what I was going for," replied Oliver, returning her smile. "But now that I think about it, of course I am."
"And oh so modest," Rachel added.
"Yup, modest," Oliver agreed. "Another one of my many great characteristics."
Rachel rolled her eyes at him.
"So, whaddya say?" Oliver asked. "Will you stay?"
Like I'd say no, Rachel thought to herself. But she decided it would be kinda fun to torture him for a while...
"Maybe," Rachel said. "Depends."
"On what?"
Rachel took a few steps closer. "On whether you'll take me downstairs and buy me another one of those lethal green drink thingies."
Oliver shook his head vigorously. "Nuh uh. No way. I am NOT letting you get completely trashed again."
Rachel smiled. "Good, 'cause I wouldn't have ever forgiven you if you did."
"Well, then, Miss Knight," Oliver said coyly, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Have I passed your little test?"
Rachel shook her head. "Nope, not yet. First you have to do two things."
"Name it."
"Okay, you must A, take me down to Fortescue's and buy me some ice cream."
"Will do," Oliver smiled.
"And B, you have to kiss me."
Oliver's smile turned into a full-out grin.
"With pleasure."
He pressed his lips to hers, and Rachel allowed herself to enjoy the ridiculously giddy, almost dizzying sensation. After a few moments, they pulled apart and a lazy smile formed on Rachel's face and she opened her lips to speak.
"And they lived happily ever after."
Oliver grinned, then added, "The end."
