A/N: okay, so after months of posting on here, I've just realised I need to
post a disclaimer, so here goes:
NONE of the characters depicted in my story belong to me: they're aaaall J.K. Rowling's, lucky her! Oh, except for Academeus Prune, but he's not all that important, I guess.
And I got reviewers! What a treat!:-D
Jenni - that's right, we never did settle that Bill matter, did we? Actually, I think by now I've forgotten what I told him, hehe. thanks for reviewing me!
Nancy - you do seem to have a certain affinity with pyjamas, don't you? ;) thanks for reeaaadiiing!!
Caketwins - aka Carrie and Marion - LOL! I'd forgotten just how fond of Oliver you were. ;) but really - Quidditch-freak Oliver is just as cute! And so sweet!
FaintAisling - lol! Another pyjama lover! Thanks for reviewing!!
The Freak of Redwall - well, the rest of it is posted! Glad you liked the beginning!
Mephistopheles - aww, that was nice to hear! I do try hard to describe Oliver the way I see him in the books; I thought he was too. 'cool' in the movie. not at all his delightfully funny Quidditch-obsessed self. Thanks for reviewing!
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Later that same night on which Oliver had exposed to his team his brilliant new ideas for training, after all the lights were out and everyone had since long gone to bed, a small group of people huddled in blankets by the dying fire was holding counsel. Two of those people were talking animatedly, and the girl next to them agreeing wholeheartedly. Another girl was arguing heatedly with them and constantly seeking for support from her neighbour, who was quite unable to provide her with any as she had been snoring for the past half hour. The last person, which appeared to be none other than Harry Potter, seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly: an amused smile danced on his lips, and his eyes had a bit of that mischievous sparkle in them the Weasley twins always had when they had just found a new victim to test their pranks on.
The whole Gryffindor Quidditch team, except for their captain, who was probably sound asleep by now, had been arguing ever since the Common Room had been deserted by the other Gryffindors. A couple of Fred and George's dungbombs had helped in this process, of course, but as it was well past midnight, they were quite certain no one would be spying on them anyway, dungbombs or not.
"Listen, we can't spend all year long waging war against our captain," was saying Alicia vehemently. "We'll never manage to play a decent game if we carry on like this!"
"We'll never manage to play decently if we don't get proper sleep, either," interjected George. "I mean, come on: until now, we've spent half of our time at practice dozing off, trying to make up for the sleep we didn't get the day before because of practice!"
"Exactly!" said Angelina fervently. "We haven't had a full night's sleep ever since school started."
"Yes, well, school only started two weeks ago," Alicia reminded them.
"Maybe, but two-week long sleep-deprivation isn't a good thing, especially for top-notch Quidditch players such as us," said Fred.
Harry and Angelina snorted.
"Well, we are on the House team." said Fred sheepishly.
"Anyway," continued George, "if you don't believe we need more rest, go on and take a look at Katie: she's been sound asleep ever since we started the meeting!"
"Meeting?" shrieked Alicia. "What meeting? This is no meeting, we don't need a meeting! All we need to do is talk with Oliver and come up with a solution!"
This statement was followed by much sniggering and sceptic sneers.
"Talk?" said Fred. "Like last Saturday, when we begged Oliver for a five- minute break in between two three-hours practice sessions and he refused?"
"Yes, well, maybe if you had actually asked him and not threatened to put his broomstick on fire."
"We didn't threaten him!" interrupted George indignantly.
"Yeah, we were doing him a favour! He'd been up in the air since early that morning! He had to come down eventually and actually eat and rest a bit - might've fallen off if he'd stayed up there any longer. And if making his broom crash was the only way to bring him down."
". we wouldn't have hesitated. You know how devoted we are to Oliver," finished George with a mock bow.
The murderous expression on Alicia's face would have been enough to silence the twins, had they paid any attention to her. But they continued their speech:
"No, this year he's really going too far."
"He's just trying to make us win the Cup!" hissed Alicia, although she did look a lot less confident ever since she had noticed Katie's obvious lack of support. "I agree we should be allowed some slack from time to time, but."
"Listen, all of you," said Harry, motioning for Alicia to stop talking and glaring at Fred who had already opened his mouth to retort. "I think both sides have a point: now, I know Oliver shouldn't be overworking us like this, but all he's really trying to do is help us win. And don't any of you tell me you don't want to finally beat Slytherin."
Angelina and Alicia groaned threateningly and both twins let out angry words their mother certainly wouldn't have approved of.
"I thought so," continued Harry. "So, why don't we work out a kind of compromise?"
"Compromise? With Oliver?" scoffed Fred.
"No, no, not with Oliver: between us!"
Everyone stared at Harry.
"What I mean," continued Harry, "is that we shouldn't actually. do anything to Oliver as long as he respects our need to be off the Quidditch field from time to time."
"But how can he know about what we need if we don't tell him first?" interrupted Angelina.
"He won't listen to us if we simply tell him," said Harry patiently. Boy these girls were complicated! "But after tonight's meeting with him, I think there's a very slight chance we may already have won our evenings. Now as to week-ends - well, as long as he's not too over-zealous, I think we should try and obey him as best we can. But," he continued, putting a hand up to keep an indignant George from interjecting, "if ever he starts getting carried away, I think we should - put him back in line. With a little help from our Beaters, that is."
Harry grinned mischievously, as did Fred and George, who both looked as though Christmas had come early for them. However, Alicia, it appeared, was not ready to accept this plan without a last fight, and even Angelina looked slightly sceptical.
"But how will it help?" she asked, frowning. "We've hexed him before, and it hasn't stopped him from being his usual Quidditch-obsessed self."
Fred and George looked absolutely delighted about their role, and weren't about to let anyone take the chance of thoroughly enjoying themselves away from them.
"Look," said Fred. "We're not going to seriously injure him or something."
"Yeah, it'll just be - a little reminder, that every time he shows a sign of wanting to go too far, we'll keep him from stepping out of line."
Alicia rolled her eyes. "You guys act like he's torturing us! Honestly!"
"And you," said George knowingly, "are giving yourself one heck of a time trying to defend darling Oliver. Might I enquire why that may be?"
A pillow fight of rather violent nature followed this exchange between Alicia and George; so violent, in fact, that we will not report it here in our chronicles. Meanwhile, the rest of the team, which was now only composed of Harry, Fred and Angelina (we see here how effective the Gryffindor team is when working as a whole) agreed that they would explain to Oliver first thing in the morning all about their new conditions: that they agreed to follow his new training program, but guaranteed obedience to his orders and his own safety only under the sole condition that he didn't get too extra-practice-happy.
The meeting ended as George, receiving full in the face a carefully aimed pillow, fell backwards and landed on Katie, who, needless to say, woke up at once and started hexing everything within wand reach. It was decided thereupon that the best thing yet to do was flee to the dormitories before Filch or McGonagall turned up.
But as each player regained their bed (in a more or less pitiful state: Katie's hexes had been most effective), no one, not even Alicia, could help a conniving grin from spreading on their face: whether it was the twins or Oliver who would most endure in the end from this due battle, this year promised to be most interesting.
A while later, a dark figure crept out of the fourth year boys' dormitory and headed up the stairs to the remaining dormitories of Gryffindor tower. Ten steps, a right turn, one door, two doors, and into the sixth year's dormitory. Fred Weasley entered the room noiselessly and deposited a small parcel by his captain's pillow, working hard to suppress his laughter as Wood muttered in his sleep something about Quidditch fouls, lack of cooperation, and Alicia (so there was something going on with her!). He exited the room, after having of course deposited a few toffees on random students' bedside table (never did any harm to seize an opportunity when it presented itself), and hurried back to his own dormitory, where his twin was waiting for him at the door, a malevolent grin from ear to ear. "So?" asked George, hardly containing his anticipation. "Mission accomplished," said Fred, with the air of someone who's just assured himself victory in advance over a particularly harsh battle, and a smile to match his brother's.
The Oliver Wood Conspiracy had officially begun.
NONE of the characters depicted in my story belong to me: they're aaaall J.K. Rowling's, lucky her! Oh, except for Academeus Prune, but he's not all that important, I guess.
And I got reviewers! What a treat!:-D
Jenni - that's right, we never did settle that Bill matter, did we? Actually, I think by now I've forgotten what I told him, hehe. thanks for reviewing me!
Nancy - you do seem to have a certain affinity with pyjamas, don't you? ;) thanks for reeaaadiiing!!
Caketwins - aka Carrie and Marion - LOL! I'd forgotten just how fond of Oliver you were. ;) but really - Quidditch-freak Oliver is just as cute! And so sweet!
FaintAisling - lol! Another pyjama lover! Thanks for reviewing!!
The Freak of Redwall - well, the rest of it is posted! Glad you liked the beginning!
Mephistopheles - aww, that was nice to hear! I do try hard to describe Oliver the way I see him in the books; I thought he was too. 'cool' in the movie. not at all his delightfully funny Quidditch-obsessed self. Thanks for reviewing!
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Later that same night on which Oliver had exposed to his team his brilliant new ideas for training, after all the lights were out and everyone had since long gone to bed, a small group of people huddled in blankets by the dying fire was holding counsel. Two of those people were talking animatedly, and the girl next to them agreeing wholeheartedly. Another girl was arguing heatedly with them and constantly seeking for support from her neighbour, who was quite unable to provide her with any as she had been snoring for the past half hour. The last person, which appeared to be none other than Harry Potter, seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly: an amused smile danced on his lips, and his eyes had a bit of that mischievous sparkle in them the Weasley twins always had when they had just found a new victim to test their pranks on.
The whole Gryffindor Quidditch team, except for their captain, who was probably sound asleep by now, had been arguing ever since the Common Room had been deserted by the other Gryffindors. A couple of Fred and George's dungbombs had helped in this process, of course, but as it was well past midnight, they were quite certain no one would be spying on them anyway, dungbombs or not.
"Listen, we can't spend all year long waging war against our captain," was saying Alicia vehemently. "We'll never manage to play a decent game if we carry on like this!"
"We'll never manage to play decently if we don't get proper sleep, either," interjected George. "I mean, come on: until now, we've spent half of our time at practice dozing off, trying to make up for the sleep we didn't get the day before because of practice!"
"Exactly!" said Angelina fervently. "We haven't had a full night's sleep ever since school started."
"Yes, well, school only started two weeks ago," Alicia reminded them.
"Maybe, but two-week long sleep-deprivation isn't a good thing, especially for top-notch Quidditch players such as us," said Fred.
Harry and Angelina snorted.
"Well, we are on the House team." said Fred sheepishly.
"Anyway," continued George, "if you don't believe we need more rest, go on and take a look at Katie: she's been sound asleep ever since we started the meeting!"
"Meeting?" shrieked Alicia. "What meeting? This is no meeting, we don't need a meeting! All we need to do is talk with Oliver and come up with a solution!"
This statement was followed by much sniggering and sceptic sneers.
"Talk?" said Fred. "Like last Saturday, when we begged Oliver for a five- minute break in between two three-hours practice sessions and he refused?"
"Yes, well, maybe if you had actually asked him and not threatened to put his broomstick on fire."
"We didn't threaten him!" interrupted George indignantly.
"Yeah, we were doing him a favour! He'd been up in the air since early that morning! He had to come down eventually and actually eat and rest a bit - might've fallen off if he'd stayed up there any longer. And if making his broom crash was the only way to bring him down."
". we wouldn't have hesitated. You know how devoted we are to Oliver," finished George with a mock bow.
The murderous expression on Alicia's face would have been enough to silence the twins, had they paid any attention to her. But they continued their speech:
"No, this year he's really going too far."
"He's just trying to make us win the Cup!" hissed Alicia, although she did look a lot less confident ever since she had noticed Katie's obvious lack of support. "I agree we should be allowed some slack from time to time, but."
"Listen, all of you," said Harry, motioning for Alicia to stop talking and glaring at Fred who had already opened his mouth to retort. "I think both sides have a point: now, I know Oliver shouldn't be overworking us like this, but all he's really trying to do is help us win. And don't any of you tell me you don't want to finally beat Slytherin."
Angelina and Alicia groaned threateningly and both twins let out angry words their mother certainly wouldn't have approved of.
"I thought so," continued Harry. "So, why don't we work out a kind of compromise?"
"Compromise? With Oliver?" scoffed Fred.
"No, no, not with Oliver: between us!"
Everyone stared at Harry.
"What I mean," continued Harry, "is that we shouldn't actually. do anything to Oliver as long as he respects our need to be off the Quidditch field from time to time."
"But how can he know about what we need if we don't tell him first?" interrupted Angelina.
"He won't listen to us if we simply tell him," said Harry patiently. Boy these girls were complicated! "But after tonight's meeting with him, I think there's a very slight chance we may already have won our evenings. Now as to week-ends - well, as long as he's not too over-zealous, I think we should try and obey him as best we can. But," he continued, putting a hand up to keep an indignant George from interjecting, "if ever he starts getting carried away, I think we should - put him back in line. With a little help from our Beaters, that is."
Harry grinned mischievously, as did Fred and George, who both looked as though Christmas had come early for them. However, Alicia, it appeared, was not ready to accept this plan without a last fight, and even Angelina looked slightly sceptical.
"But how will it help?" she asked, frowning. "We've hexed him before, and it hasn't stopped him from being his usual Quidditch-obsessed self."
Fred and George looked absolutely delighted about their role, and weren't about to let anyone take the chance of thoroughly enjoying themselves away from them.
"Look," said Fred. "We're not going to seriously injure him or something."
"Yeah, it'll just be - a little reminder, that every time he shows a sign of wanting to go too far, we'll keep him from stepping out of line."
Alicia rolled her eyes. "You guys act like he's torturing us! Honestly!"
"And you," said George knowingly, "are giving yourself one heck of a time trying to defend darling Oliver. Might I enquire why that may be?"
A pillow fight of rather violent nature followed this exchange between Alicia and George; so violent, in fact, that we will not report it here in our chronicles. Meanwhile, the rest of the team, which was now only composed of Harry, Fred and Angelina (we see here how effective the Gryffindor team is when working as a whole) agreed that they would explain to Oliver first thing in the morning all about their new conditions: that they agreed to follow his new training program, but guaranteed obedience to his orders and his own safety only under the sole condition that he didn't get too extra-practice-happy.
The meeting ended as George, receiving full in the face a carefully aimed pillow, fell backwards and landed on Katie, who, needless to say, woke up at once and started hexing everything within wand reach. It was decided thereupon that the best thing yet to do was flee to the dormitories before Filch or McGonagall turned up.
But as each player regained their bed (in a more or less pitiful state: Katie's hexes had been most effective), no one, not even Alicia, could help a conniving grin from spreading on their face: whether it was the twins or Oliver who would most endure in the end from this due battle, this year promised to be most interesting.
A while later, a dark figure crept out of the fourth year boys' dormitory and headed up the stairs to the remaining dormitories of Gryffindor tower. Ten steps, a right turn, one door, two doors, and into the sixth year's dormitory. Fred Weasley entered the room noiselessly and deposited a small parcel by his captain's pillow, working hard to suppress his laughter as Wood muttered in his sleep something about Quidditch fouls, lack of cooperation, and Alicia (so there was something going on with her!). He exited the room, after having of course deposited a few toffees on random students' bedside table (never did any harm to seize an opportunity when it presented itself), and hurried back to his own dormitory, where his twin was waiting for him at the door, a malevolent grin from ear to ear. "So?" asked George, hardly containing his anticipation. "Mission accomplished," said Fred, with the air of someone who's just assured himself victory in advance over a particularly harsh battle, and a smile to match his brother's.
The Oliver Wood Conspiracy had officially begun.