CHAPTER FOUR
"Okay darling, tell me... how does it feel to be something of a sex symbol to all of those thousands of teenage witches out there?" asked the reporter from 'It's a Witchy World' magazine.
"Uhh..." Oliver looked down at his hands and tried not to stare at the woman's amazingly pointy nose.
"Yes?" she encouraged, her pen ready to write and her eyes looking eagerly at him with happiness. It wasn't hard to miss that she was a big fan. The fact she'd hounded him as soon as he had entered the room and begged for an autograph sort of showed this.
"Uhh, I don't know. I don't look at myself as a sex symbol. I like Quidditch and flying," he replied uneasily, still avoiding that IMPECCABLY pointy nose. Yeah, which is where I'd rather be right now, Oliver thought to himself. Flying on a broomstick. Not in here!
The reporter looked like she was going to faint. "Oh so, so, so modest!" she gushed dreamily. Oliver was saved from any further torment when Tom appeared in the room as if he had been reading Oliver's mind.
"Okay that's enough," Tom said, clapping his hands together.
The pointy-nosed reporter looked horrified for a moment but was quickly ushered out the door by Tom who looked at Oliver with gleaming eyes.
"Guess what my friend," he said, smile widening.
"What?" asked Oliver.
"We're going to Hogwarts! And the old fashioned way."
The steam train to Hogwarts left from Platform 9 3/4 early the next morning. It brought back many fond memories for Oliver who had spent his childhood painstakingly leading the Gryffindor Quidditch Team before Puddlemere picked him up for the reserve team (and eventually main team) as soon as he'd finished there. He remembered the team quite vividly and why he'd loved each individual member for different qualities.
There had been Alicia Spinnet, one of the Chasers. She'd been a wonderful player but most of all a wonderful friend to him and had always calmed him down when he got a little too... enthusiastic.
Katie Bell had also been a Chaser and one of the best he'd seen. But she too was more than just a player. She was a sensitive and caring girl who fixed any injuries that were often aquired during practise matches.
Angelina Johnson had been the third Chaser and was the most pumped up, energetic, outgoing and crazy people Oliver had ever known. She'd pepped up the team whenever they'd had enough of Oliver but always made everyone feel wanted and needed.
And who could ever forget the Weasley Twins? Not even someone who'd had a memory charm put on them. They were the hilarious pranksters who'd managed to get him on more than one occasion and caused fits of laughter from everyone... including Oliver himself.
Finally there was Harry Potter. The boy who lived. The boy who made Oliver's dreams of winning the Hogwarts Cup come true. Harry was special and was one of the reasons Oliver was keen to revisit Hogwarts. Harry was now a Seventh Year and there was no doubt in Oliver's mind that he was also Head Boy. And that bushy-haired friend of his... what was her name? Hermoin or something was probably the Head Girl.
Oliver's daydreams were called to a hault however when a loud toot sounded from the front of the train and they departed the station, on their way to Hogwarts!
"Okay darling, tell me... how does it feel to be something of a sex symbol to all of those thousands of teenage witches out there?" asked the reporter from 'It's a Witchy World' magazine.
"Uhh..." Oliver looked down at his hands and tried not to stare at the woman's amazingly pointy nose.
"Yes?" she encouraged, her pen ready to write and her eyes looking eagerly at him with happiness. It wasn't hard to miss that she was a big fan. The fact she'd hounded him as soon as he had entered the room and begged for an autograph sort of showed this.
"Uhh, I don't know. I don't look at myself as a sex symbol. I like Quidditch and flying," he replied uneasily, still avoiding that IMPECCABLY pointy nose. Yeah, which is where I'd rather be right now, Oliver thought to himself. Flying on a broomstick. Not in here!
The reporter looked like she was going to faint. "Oh so, so, so modest!" she gushed dreamily. Oliver was saved from any further torment when Tom appeared in the room as if he had been reading Oliver's mind.
"Okay that's enough," Tom said, clapping his hands together.
The pointy-nosed reporter looked horrified for a moment but was quickly ushered out the door by Tom who looked at Oliver with gleaming eyes.
"Guess what my friend," he said, smile widening.
"What?" asked Oliver.
"We're going to Hogwarts! And the old fashioned way."
The steam train to Hogwarts left from Platform 9 3/4 early the next morning. It brought back many fond memories for Oliver who had spent his childhood painstakingly leading the Gryffindor Quidditch Team before Puddlemere picked him up for the reserve team (and eventually main team) as soon as he'd finished there. He remembered the team quite vividly and why he'd loved each individual member for different qualities.
There had been Alicia Spinnet, one of the Chasers. She'd been a wonderful player but most of all a wonderful friend to him and had always calmed him down when he got a little too... enthusiastic.
Katie Bell had also been a Chaser and one of the best he'd seen. But she too was more than just a player. She was a sensitive and caring girl who fixed any injuries that were often aquired during practise matches.
Angelina Johnson had been the third Chaser and was the most pumped up, energetic, outgoing and crazy people Oliver had ever known. She'd pepped up the team whenever they'd had enough of Oliver but always made everyone feel wanted and needed.
And who could ever forget the Weasley Twins? Not even someone who'd had a memory charm put on them. They were the hilarious pranksters who'd managed to get him on more than one occasion and caused fits of laughter from everyone... including Oliver himself.
Finally there was Harry Potter. The boy who lived. The boy who made Oliver's dreams of winning the Hogwarts Cup come true. Harry was special and was one of the reasons Oliver was keen to revisit Hogwarts. Harry was now a Seventh Year and there was no doubt in Oliver's mind that he was also Head Boy. And that bushy-haired friend of his... what was her name? Hermoin or something was probably the Head Girl.
Oliver's daydreams were called to a hault however when a loud toot sounded from the front of the train and they departed the station, on their way to Hogwarts!