Yes, Oliver Wood wear argyle!
Harry ran into the quidditch showers and frantically over to the wall. He looked all around and found what he was looking for, a small, eyeball sized hole next to the knob of the fourth shower. Damn, it was true; he had hoped George was lying. Now, there was some girl (or guy for that matter) who had probably gotten an eyeful of him and the rest of the guys on the Gryffindor quidditch team. He cringed at the thought. He curiously walked outside to get a 'peeping tom's' eye view from the outside. Next to the hole was a name. 'Roadblock Malloy.' He didn't know what that was about, but decided to inform his quidditch captain about the hole, surely Oliver would care about things like this; after all, someone was seeing more than just his broomstick. After thinking that, he immediately grimaced and continued walking.
When he came to the seventh year's door, he flung it open without thinking, he gasped. Oliver was standing still, leaning to one side, writing quidditch diagrams on a giant whiteboard by his window. There were little goalposts on either end of the board, and letters marking each member of the quidditch team. That wasn't what had startled him so.
Oliver scratched his head, and turned around and looked puzzled at Harry. He was naked.no, that wasn't quite right. He was naked except for a pair of knee high red and gold argyle socks. He seemed unmoved by his appearance, and the sudden entrance of his seeker. Instead, he opened his mouth and picked up a pointer off the ledge of the whiteboard.
"Harry, nice to see you," he looked back at the whiteboard, still confused. "Could you tell me what you think of this play?" He tapped the pointer on the board and the little letters began swarming, quaffle passing between them.
"Er."
"I don't know," he said, frowning. "Maybe Katie shouldn't swoop below Angelina; maybe she should fly over her and score the goal. This formation's all bungled."
"Oliver?"
"Not now, I'm thinking." He shifted his weight to his other foot as he presented Harry with a less than pleasant (for Harry) view of his backside.
"But, Oliver," he tried, sounding more uncomfortable by the second.
"What Harry," he said, exasperated.
"Why are you dressed.or, rather, undressed like that?" He looked Oliver squarely in his eyes.
"Oh, that," said Oliver, indifferently. "I think it opens up the air a bit. I like to feel free when I write my diagrams. You should try it some time."
"Er, I'll keep that in mind Oliver," Harry turned on his heel and walked quickly out of the dormitory.
Oliver on the other hand continued writing his diagrams, pausing ever so often to cross his arms and reflect about the formation of his players.
*****
"George?" Harry said, cautiously knocking on the door to the fifth year dormitory door.
"Huh," said the redhead as he popped his head out of the door. "Oh, Harry, come in you little bloke."
"George," he said quickly. "I saw-."
"You saw the peephole in the showers didn't you?!" He replied, grinning. "You'll be showering much quicker, and in your swim trunks, now that you saw that, eh?"
"No, that's not it. Well.I saw it, but it's not that."
"Not what?" came a voice from the door way. Fred Weasley strolled into the room, carrying his broomstick.
"Not the peephole in the quidditch showers, but I-," he was cut off again.
"So, you found that did you? I know who made it, it's that sixth year Slytherin girl.Malloy, her name is. If you ask me, I wouldn't mind her checking me out any day. As a matter of fact-," he too was stopped short at the entrance of three girls into the dormitory.
"What was that Fred Weasley?" Angelina Johnson asked in a stern voice.
"Er, what I mean is, um." he began turning red.
"Who cares," said Katie Bell. "Where's wood, aren't we due to have quidditch practice in three hours? He's not even on the quidditch pitch yet, knowing Wood, he would've been there since breakfast."
"Wood's.busy right now," Harry interjected quietly.
"It's a girl isn't it?!" George said smirking. "S'about time Wood got some action."
"Wood's got Malloy, doesn't he.darn, I-," he stopped after seeing the dangerous look on Angelina's face.
"No, it's just that I was in there before." Harry tried again. "Wood's going over some diagrams, but he didn't look like he wanted to be-."
"That settles it," said Alicia quickly. "Let's go, we're going to go look at them with him."
"No, wait!" but Harry was quickly shoved out of the way by the rest of the quidditch team. They all walked up to the seventh year dormitory and flung open the door.
There they stood, frozen in the doorway, all of them seeing the same view Harry was graced with just moments before. Angelina, Alicia and Katie's jaws dropped, while Fred and George had a different reaction.
"Alright, so we're going over plans different today?" They pulled off their robes and were left in knee high argyle socks themselves. George had orange and black, and Fred had blue and green. At the entrance of the team, wood turned slowly and folded his arms, glancing back quizzically every few seconds to eye his diagram. When he saw Fred and George's attire, he spoke.
"Er." he said, turning red. "This wasn't a team effort, but I don't mind." He turned and began sketching more players on the whiteboard until one of the chasers had something to say.
"Gee Fred," Angelina said, sniggering. "I knew Oliver was a better quidditch player, but I never would've dreamed he had a better broomstick."
Harry ran into the quidditch showers and frantically over to the wall. He looked all around and found what he was looking for, a small, eyeball sized hole next to the knob of the fourth shower. Damn, it was true; he had hoped George was lying. Now, there was some girl (or guy for that matter) who had probably gotten an eyeful of him and the rest of the guys on the Gryffindor quidditch team. He cringed at the thought. He curiously walked outside to get a 'peeping tom's' eye view from the outside. Next to the hole was a name. 'Roadblock Malloy.' He didn't know what that was about, but decided to inform his quidditch captain about the hole, surely Oliver would care about things like this; after all, someone was seeing more than just his broomstick. After thinking that, he immediately grimaced and continued walking.
When he came to the seventh year's door, he flung it open without thinking, he gasped. Oliver was standing still, leaning to one side, writing quidditch diagrams on a giant whiteboard by his window. There were little goalposts on either end of the board, and letters marking each member of the quidditch team. That wasn't what had startled him so.
Oliver scratched his head, and turned around and looked puzzled at Harry. He was naked.no, that wasn't quite right. He was naked except for a pair of knee high red and gold argyle socks. He seemed unmoved by his appearance, and the sudden entrance of his seeker. Instead, he opened his mouth and picked up a pointer off the ledge of the whiteboard.
"Harry, nice to see you," he looked back at the whiteboard, still confused. "Could you tell me what you think of this play?" He tapped the pointer on the board and the little letters began swarming, quaffle passing between them.
"Er."
"I don't know," he said, frowning. "Maybe Katie shouldn't swoop below Angelina; maybe she should fly over her and score the goal. This formation's all bungled."
"Oliver?"
"Not now, I'm thinking." He shifted his weight to his other foot as he presented Harry with a less than pleasant (for Harry) view of his backside.
"But, Oliver," he tried, sounding more uncomfortable by the second.
"What Harry," he said, exasperated.
"Why are you dressed.or, rather, undressed like that?" He looked Oliver squarely in his eyes.
"Oh, that," said Oliver, indifferently. "I think it opens up the air a bit. I like to feel free when I write my diagrams. You should try it some time."
"Er, I'll keep that in mind Oliver," Harry turned on his heel and walked quickly out of the dormitory.
Oliver on the other hand continued writing his diagrams, pausing ever so often to cross his arms and reflect about the formation of his players.
*****
"George?" Harry said, cautiously knocking on the door to the fifth year dormitory door.
"Huh," said the redhead as he popped his head out of the door. "Oh, Harry, come in you little bloke."
"George," he said quickly. "I saw-."
"You saw the peephole in the showers didn't you?!" He replied, grinning. "You'll be showering much quicker, and in your swim trunks, now that you saw that, eh?"
"No, that's not it. Well.I saw it, but it's not that."
"Not what?" came a voice from the door way. Fred Weasley strolled into the room, carrying his broomstick.
"Not the peephole in the quidditch showers, but I-," he was cut off again.
"So, you found that did you? I know who made it, it's that sixth year Slytherin girl.Malloy, her name is. If you ask me, I wouldn't mind her checking me out any day. As a matter of fact-," he too was stopped short at the entrance of three girls into the dormitory.
"What was that Fred Weasley?" Angelina Johnson asked in a stern voice.
"Er, what I mean is, um." he began turning red.
"Who cares," said Katie Bell. "Where's wood, aren't we due to have quidditch practice in three hours? He's not even on the quidditch pitch yet, knowing Wood, he would've been there since breakfast."
"Wood's.busy right now," Harry interjected quietly.
"It's a girl isn't it?!" George said smirking. "S'about time Wood got some action."
"Wood's got Malloy, doesn't he.darn, I-," he stopped after seeing the dangerous look on Angelina's face.
"No, it's just that I was in there before." Harry tried again. "Wood's going over some diagrams, but he didn't look like he wanted to be-."
"That settles it," said Alicia quickly. "Let's go, we're going to go look at them with him."
"No, wait!" but Harry was quickly shoved out of the way by the rest of the quidditch team. They all walked up to the seventh year dormitory and flung open the door.
There they stood, frozen in the doorway, all of them seeing the same view Harry was graced with just moments before. Angelina, Alicia and Katie's jaws dropped, while Fred and George had a different reaction.
"Alright, so we're going over plans different today?" They pulled off their robes and were left in knee high argyle socks themselves. George had orange and black, and Fred had blue and green. At the entrance of the team, wood turned slowly and folded his arms, glancing back quizzically every few seconds to eye his diagram. When he saw Fred and George's attire, he spoke.
"Er." he said, turning red. "This wasn't a team effort, but I don't mind." He turned and began sketching more players on the whiteboard until one of the chasers had something to say.
"Gee Fred," Angelina said, sniggering. "I knew Oliver was a better quidditch player, but I never would've dreamed he had a better broomstick."