CHAPTER ELEVEN
The walk was brisk and cold as Oliver made his way through the hallway. It was five to eleven now meaning the person would probably be waiting by now. But who was it?
It was strange how eerie the castle walls seemed at night time. During the day they were warm and alive but now Oliver felt more lonely than ever before and a little part of him hoped that the letter writer had been Hermione yet he still wondered to himself 'why?'
As he passed one of the silver knights Oliver nearly had a heart attack. He could see Snape coming around the corner and ducked behind a cupboard. Then he realised how stupid he was being. He was no longer a student, there were no night time rules any more. Chuckling to himself, he stood up straight and determined to walk right past Snape.
"Oliver Wood..." Snape muttered to himself as he saw the boy coming towards him.
"Snape," Oliver nodded his head, maturely acknowledging the nasty professor.
"Wood," Snape nodded his head in return and continued on his way, looking for naughty little boys and girls obviously.
Oliver nervously approached the Fat Lady portrait and stood there, his hands behind his back, waiting. There wasn't a sign of any living soul, not even any mischievous students who fancied a late night walk.
"Hello darl," greeted the portrait. Oliver tried to think of a reason why he was standing there and prayed to the Great Wizards above that the Fat Lady didn't want to have a never ending conversation again.
"Hi," he said shortly.
"She's over there," the Fat Lady said, boredly, pointing towards a strategically placed trophy cabinet. "Snape walked past so she ducked and hid."
"Ah," Oliver replied. "Um... would you mind telling me who she is?" His heart was racing by now.
"Nu-uh," the portrait tut-tutted. "Love to dear but that's not my place. Just walk on up and find out."
Every bit of Oliver wanted to say bye to the Fat Lady and run back to his guest room but for some reason he didn't. Perhaps it was because he was dying for it to be Hermione. He began smiling as he worked out in his head what he would say when he walked over. The angle he'd tilt his head, the tone of voice, the words that would come out of his mouth.
"Well?" interrupted the Fat Lady. "Get moving!"
So Oliver did get moving. He strode confidently over to the trophy cabinet and a certain Gryffindor came jumping out from behind, startling him.
"OLIVER!" she cried, a big happy grin evident on her face.
He stood there in shock, unable to move. It wasn't Hermione at all. Infact, he didn't even know this girl's name! What on earth was going on? How did this girl know which owl was his? How did she send the note with Snow White?
"Uhh....hi," he said slowly.
"Hi!" she cried, then hushed herself so she didn't wake up the whole castle. "Hi," she repeated a bit quieter. "My name's Lavender Brown!"
He recognised the name and realised it was one of the other seventh year girls. Perhaps one of Hermione's friends?
"I'm Oliver," he said, knowing he sounded very dumb.
She grinned even more though, ignoring his words. "Oliver Wood, I love you so much!"
"Wow, oh wow, umm.. thanks," he stuttered not knowing how to take it. What was he meant to say?
He managed to keep a straight face for another five minutes of conversation with this 'Lavender' girl while she bumbled on about how much she loved him and how she was the biggest fan. And that she so sorry she hadn't introduced herself earlier as she knew she'd get along quite merrily with him. Oliver meanwhile stood there dumbfounded and realised he had begun to dream about Hermione again.
"Oliver? Oliver?" Lavender said.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Are you listening?"
"Sure I am. Hey Lavender, you said in your note you were sorry for being cold to me?" he asked.
"Oh yes," she thought outloud. "This morning, I bumped into you and never apologised. I was just late for Potions and I didn't want Snape to take house points away from Gryffindor."
"Oh okay," he said.
"Well, do you want to date me?" Lavender said, alarming the off-guard Oliver. He liked her... sort of, but only as a friend.
"Umm... Lavender, I don't like you that way. I barely know you."
"FINE!" she cried loudly and stormed into the common room, tears brimming in her eyes.
"Whoah," muttered Oliver as he returned back in the direction he'd come, wondering who Lavender actually was and wishing it had been Hermione who had sent the note. Then we wondered why he wished it had been Hermione.
Author's Note: Woohooo! I have a new story on the go. I think it might be my best ever (it's not so romance orientated, more of an adventure and something that delves into Hermione's character quite deeply). I have posted the first chapter up so you MUST MUST MUST go and check out 'The Saving of Harry' and leave me a review telling me what you think! Please! *Gets down knees and begs*
The walk was brisk and cold as Oliver made his way through the hallway. It was five to eleven now meaning the person would probably be waiting by now. But who was it?
It was strange how eerie the castle walls seemed at night time. During the day they were warm and alive but now Oliver felt more lonely than ever before and a little part of him hoped that the letter writer had been Hermione yet he still wondered to himself 'why?'
As he passed one of the silver knights Oliver nearly had a heart attack. He could see Snape coming around the corner and ducked behind a cupboard. Then he realised how stupid he was being. He was no longer a student, there were no night time rules any more. Chuckling to himself, he stood up straight and determined to walk right past Snape.
"Oliver Wood..." Snape muttered to himself as he saw the boy coming towards him.
"Snape," Oliver nodded his head, maturely acknowledging the nasty professor.
"Wood," Snape nodded his head in return and continued on his way, looking for naughty little boys and girls obviously.
Oliver nervously approached the Fat Lady portrait and stood there, his hands behind his back, waiting. There wasn't a sign of any living soul, not even any mischievous students who fancied a late night walk.
"Hello darl," greeted the portrait. Oliver tried to think of a reason why he was standing there and prayed to the Great Wizards above that the Fat Lady didn't want to have a never ending conversation again.
"Hi," he said shortly.
"She's over there," the Fat Lady said, boredly, pointing towards a strategically placed trophy cabinet. "Snape walked past so she ducked and hid."
"Ah," Oliver replied. "Um... would you mind telling me who she is?" His heart was racing by now.
"Nu-uh," the portrait tut-tutted. "Love to dear but that's not my place. Just walk on up and find out."
Every bit of Oliver wanted to say bye to the Fat Lady and run back to his guest room but for some reason he didn't. Perhaps it was because he was dying for it to be Hermione. He began smiling as he worked out in his head what he would say when he walked over. The angle he'd tilt his head, the tone of voice, the words that would come out of his mouth.
"Well?" interrupted the Fat Lady. "Get moving!"
So Oliver did get moving. He strode confidently over to the trophy cabinet and a certain Gryffindor came jumping out from behind, startling him.
"OLIVER!" she cried, a big happy grin evident on her face.
He stood there in shock, unable to move. It wasn't Hermione at all. Infact, he didn't even know this girl's name! What on earth was going on? How did this girl know which owl was his? How did she send the note with Snow White?
"Uhh....hi," he said slowly.
"Hi!" she cried, then hushed herself so she didn't wake up the whole castle. "Hi," she repeated a bit quieter. "My name's Lavender Brown!"
He recognised the name and realised it was one of the other seventh year girls. Perhaps one of Hermione's friends?
"I'm Oliver," he said, knowing he sounded very dumb.
She grinned even more though, ignoring his words. "Oliver Wood, I love you so much!"
"Wow, oh wow, umm.. thanks," he stuttered not knowing how to take it. What was he meant to say?
He managed to keep a straight face for another five minutes of conversation with this 'Lavender' girl while she bumbled on about how much she loved him and how she was the biggest fan. And that she so sorry she hadn't introduced herself earlier as she knew she'd get along quite merrily with him. Oliver meanwhile stood there dumbfounded and realised he had begun to dream about Hermione again.
"Oliver? Oliver?" Lavender said.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Are you listening?"
"Sure I am. Hey Lavender, you said in your note you were sorry for being cold to me?" he asked.
"Oh yes," she thought outloud. "This morning, I bumped into you and never apologised. I was just late for Potions and I didn't want Snape to take house points away from Gryffindor."
"Oh okay," he said.
"Well, do you want to date me?" Lavender said, alarming the off-guard Oliver. He liked her... sort of, but only as a friend.
"Umm... Lavender, I don't like you that way. I barely know you."
"FINE!" she cried loudly and stormed into the common room, tears brimming in her eyes.
"Whoah," muttered Oliver as he returned back in the direction he'd come, wondering who Lavender actually was and wishing it had been Hermione who had sent the note. Then we wondered why he wished it had been Hermione.
Author's Note: Woohooo! I have a new story on the go. I think it might be my best ever (it's not so romance orientated, more of an adventure and something that delves into Hermione's character quite deeply). I have posted the first chapter up so you MUST MUST MUST go and check out 'The Saving of Harry' and leave me a review telling me what you think! Please! *Gets down knees and begs*