I do not own Harry Potter or any of that other fun stuff.
Okay, some of you have probably already seen this under a different name. I removed that story, made some changes to the four chapters that were already up, added some more, and changed the title to one that actually had relevance to the story.
"Mr. Wood," Professor McGonagall glared at the offending student over her wire-rim glasses. She placed her hands on her desk and sighed in exasperation. "Mr. Wood, I simply do not know what to do with you. For five years you have done nothing but stare out the window and daydream during your classes. The only thing you take an interest in here at Hogwart's is Quidditch. Tell me, Mr. Wood, what do you plan to do when you graduate?"
Oliver squirmed in his seat. "Uh, play Quidditch," he mumbled. He wanted to disappear into thin air, but he must have been daydreaming when that was covered. He glanced out the window, where there was blue sky, green grass, and freedom. He couldn't understand McGonagall's obsession with academics when there was a chance to play Quidditch. Suddenly he realized that he was staring out the window again, and turned to face the Professor, who was becoming irate.
"Mr. Wood, I will make this short. If you do not improve your marks by the next term, you will be removed from the Quidditch team. Do you understand?"
Oliver Wood jumped in his seat, not expecting such a severe ultimatum. "But...but Professor." he stammered. "You can't do that. I mean, who will be the captain? Who will be the Keeper?"
Professor McGonagall sighed again. "Angelina Johnson will become the captain, and Andrew Graeme from the reserve team will become the new Keeper." She looked him straight in the eye, her voice firm. "I don't want to see that happen, Mr. Wood. You're the best Keeper we've had in years. I know what it's like to live and breathe Quidditch, so I hope you'll find a way to improve this term." She turned around and opened the door for him. He thanked her and left.
Inside his head, he was reeling. He couldn't imagine life without Quidditch, without the early practices, the rainy games, and the thrill of competition. And he certainly couldn't imagine Angelina Johnson as the new captain. Oliver remembered the fight they'd had two weeks ago; the one that started in the Grand Hall and ended when Angelina slammed the door to her dormitory in his face. The kind of fight that everyone didn't hear about, they actually heard. Even though they hadn't formally broken up with each other, he had enough sense to know the relationship was over. If Angelina became the Griffindor captain, he would never live it down.
At the bottom of the stairs he met George and Fred, who had been waiting for him. One of them, Fred maybe, came over and wrapped his arm over Oliver's shoulders. "Jeez, Oliver, you look like McGonagall just ran you through the wringer. Was she mad about you running through the school in a towel?"
"Not that it was your fault, though," George added. "It was pretty mean of Angelina to steal your clothes from the shower." Fred and George sniggered at the memory of Oliver dashing through the halls, leaving a wake of very startled students and teachers behind him. "I mean, who knew that she had a vengeful streak in her?"
Oliver sighed and slumped his shoulders. Angelina's thirst for petty revenge was the least of his worries. "If I don't improve my grades, I get cut from the team," he said. The twins stared at him in shock. Then they both wrapped their arms around him and clucked in sympathy. Muttering apologies, they led him to the Great Hall, where lunch was waiting.
Okay, some of you have probably already seen this under a different name. I removed that story, made some changes to the four chapters that were already up, added some more, and changed the title to one that actually had relevance to the story.
"Mr. Wood," Professor McGonagall glared at the offending student over her wire-rim glasses. She placed her hands on her desk and sighed in exasperation. "Mr. Wood, I simply do not know what to do with you. For five years you have done nothing but stare out the window and daydream during your classes. The only thing you take an interest in here at Hogwart's is Quidditch. Tell me, Mr. Wood, what do you plan to do when you graduate?"
Oliver squirmed in his seat. "Uh, play Quidditch," he mumbled. He wanted to disappear into thin air, but he must have been daydreaming when that was covered. He glanced out the window, where there was blue sky, green grass, and freedom. He couldn't understand McGonagall's obsession with academics when there was a chance to play Quidditch. Suddenly he realized that he was staring out the window again, and turned to face the Professor, who was becoming irate.
"Mr. Wood, I will make this short. If you do not improve your marks by the next term, you will be removed from the Quidditch team. Do you understand?"
Oliver Wood jumped in his seat, not expecting such a severe ultimatum. "But...but Professor." he stammered. "You can't do that. I mean, who will be the captain? Who will be the Keeper?"
Professor McGonagall sighed again. "Angelina Johnson will become the captain, and Andrew Graeme from the reserve team will become the new Keeper." She looked him straight in the eye, her voice firm. "I don't want to see that happen, Mr. Wood. You're the best Keeper we've had in years. I know what it's like to live and breathe Quidditch, so I hope you'll find a way to improve this term." She turned around and opened the door for him. He thanked her and left.
Inside his head, he was reeling. He couldn't imagine life without Quidditch, without the early practices, the rainy games, and the thrill of competition. And he certainly couldn't imagine Angelina Johnson as the new captain. Oliver remembered the fight they'd had two weeks ago; the one that started in the Grand Hall and ended when Angelina slammed the door to her dormitory in his face. The kind of fight that everyone didn't hear about, they actually heard. Even though they hadn't formally broken up with each other, he had enough sense to know the relationship was over. If Angelina became the Griffindor captain, he would never live it down.
At the bottom of the stairs he met George and Fred, who had been waiting for him. One of them, Fred maybe, came over and wrapped his arm over Oliver's shoulders. "Jeez, Oliver, you look like McGonagall just ran you through the wringer. Was she mad about you running through the school in a towel?"
"Not that it was your fault, though," George added. "It was pretty mean of Angelina to steal your clothes from the shower." Fred and George sniggered at the memory of Oliver dashing through the halls, leaving a wake of very startled students and teachers behind him. "I mean, who knew that she had a vengeful streak in her?"
Oliver sighed and slumped his shoulders. Angelina's thirst for petty revenge was the least of his worries. "If I don't improve my grades, I get cut from the team," he said. The twins stared at him in shock. Then they both wrapped their arms around him and clucked in sympathy. Muttering apologies, they led him to the Great Hall, where lunch was waiting.