He was running. Running towards a laugh that could make him whole, a laugh
that could save him. A tallish girl, clad in robes of translucent lilac,
was running through a forest and all Oliver knew was that he had to follow
her because his life depended on it. Because he thought he'd seen the girl
somewhere before. She kept stopping, waiting for him to catch up and
carried on laughing more as she skipped in and out of the emerald trees.
Sunlight was streaming though the branches and everything glowed bright.
Eventually he lost sight of her and could only hear her laugh. Oliver
started to walk and as he walked more, the light grew less and the
vegetation became thick, binding and rough. He still could not see her, but
followed the voice that he listened so intently for. Finally he saw her
properly, resting against a tree trunk, and a smile appeared on his face.
It was Angelina; his angel had come back to him. She smiled at him, as her
robes blew in the breeze and she laughed that angelic laugh of hers. Then
suddenly, she began to run again and she was too nimble for Oliver. He lost
her. After a few minutes of searching, he found her again, sitting on a
tree stump with her back facing him. All of a sudden it became very dark
and the wind whipped Oliver's cape behind him. He walked up to Angelina and
put a hand on her shoulder. She turned her face, but as Oliver looked at
her again he felt his stomach churn and his breath quicken. His angel had
vanished and in her place was a sickly pretty girl whose black hair rippled
behind her and as Oliver looked into her menacing dark eyes he shivered.
"What's the matter Wood? Not what you expected?" she said in an sugary voice, that was followed by a cruel laugh which crackled in the air and resounded with thunder and lightening, lightening…
Oliver Wood woke with a start. The sound of lightening outside made him flinch; thunderstorms had never been his strong point, although he loved the rain. He ran a hand through his hair, as he pulled back the blanket and stood up. Pacing around his room at the Leaky Cauldron he began to think, about the dream. It had been so vivid, so real. At first he had not recognised the devilish girl, but now, it couldn't have been clearer. It was Faith. She had haunted his dreams for a long time now, but this had defiantly been the worst of them. She had used Angelina against him, the one thing he considered to be pure and good in his life and she had managed, even in his sub-consciousness to invade that private memory he had of her. He condemned her for that. For everything she'd put him through. He stopped pacing and silently agreed with Harry. He was not going to let some girl come in the way of him and his dream. Quidditch was his life and the Puddlemere United team was what he now lived for. Starting tomorrow, he would reclaim his life, and nothing would stop him, not even Faith.
"Morning Oliver," Hermione said as Oliver ambled into the dining room. He immediately smelt bacon and eggs and asked the waiter to bring him whatever smelt so good. The waiter looked confused at him and then hurried off to make an order based on his senses.
"Sleep well?" Hermione asked.
"You can say that," he said a little disbelievingly.
"So," Harry said, leaning in towards Oliver. "You ready to began plan A." Oliver smiled and leaned in closer to Harry.
"We're not on a spy mission you know," he said in a whisper and Harry laughed.
"So I've been thinking-"
"So have I," Oliver cut Harry off. "Today the team has practice from 2 until 8. I was thinking Ron and Hermione could go and do some snooping; see what they can find out. Then you and I can go to my flat and pack up my things. The flat came with the job and well, I need to be out by today so that Marcus can move in." There was a long silence at the table, broken by Ron who plopped himself down at the table with a big thud. Hermione frowned.
"Honestly Ron, couldn't you be more-"
"Ladylike?" he chortled in a girlish voice. They all laughed and it was followed by Oliver getting a serious look on his face.
"I think I'm going to stay here until I can find another place, and no I won't stay with any of you-" he said sternly, looking at the expressions on Ron and Hermione's faces.
"I have more than enough money for me to get through okay."
"Well, that plan sounds better than mine," Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"So I guess we start after breakfast then," Ron said.
"Only after breakfast," Oliver said hungrily as he stared longingly at Hermione's bacon sandwich.
"Can you hurry with that order?" Hermione called across the room, carefully moving her plate away from Oliver's salivating mouth.
After breakfast, Oliver showered and put on a pair of old tatty jeans and a brown polar neck, the same clothes he had been wearing the night that he got completely plastered in an attempt to drink everything away. Thinking about it now, when he woke up the next morning, his problems were still there and they had been accompanied with a really big headache. Damn Faith, this was all her fault. She was the one who introduced me to drinking in the first place, Oliver thought bitterly. But when it touched his tongue he felt so alive, and it buzzed as it flowed through his veins. But no more, he'd seen his errors and the tone that Harry had used on him last night was enough to keep him away from licker forever. He'd sounded so disappointed, his former captain had been reduced to something that was beyond his fresh imagination, and he wasn't going to disappoint one of his good friends ever again. Oliver picked up his long trench coat and swung it over his shoulders. Never again, he thought as he stepped out the room.
"You three ready?" Oliver asked as he met Harry, Ron and Hermione at the nearest fireplace.
"Are we doing floo powder?" Harry asked a little squeamishly.
"Yes we are."
"I'm ready," Harry squeaked.
"Okay so Ron, Hermione you'll go first." Oliver took a silky pouch out from one of his trench coat pockets and threw a little bit of floo powder into the fire. The flames immediately rose and changed colour.
"Step in and say PU Head office, it'll get you there. I trust you can find you're way around," he said looking at Hermione.
"Harry and I will meet you at 2:30," Oliver said before Ron and Hermione disappeared into the flames. Then Oliver turned to look at Harry.
"Step in and say, the love shack," Harry stared incredulously at Oliver, who blushed.
"It's just a name," he said, before stepping inside the grate and being whisked away. The next thing he knew, he was in his semi-bare apartment, exactly the way he had left it. Harry joined him a few seconds later. He fell to the ground and Oliver helped him up.
"Not my favourite way to travel either," he winked at Harry.
"So where do we start?" Harry asked, dusting soot off his robes.
"Well, there's a suitcase in my bedroom, can you go and get that?" Oliver asked.
"Sure."
"Oh and whatever else I've left in that room." Harry smiled and walked off in the direction Oliver pointed him in. As Harry entered his eyes scanned the room and settled upon a very old, tatty looking suitcase resting on the floor. Harry picked it up and saw that it had writing all over it. When he looked closer, he realised that everyone who had singed it had been in Oliver's year at Hogwarts. Harry studied it and saw a message written in very small neat writing by Percy Weasely in red- which Harry thought was very ironic.
Good luck for the future Oliver.
You were a great friend and I don't think I'll forget that.
I don't need to tell you that your destiny is Quidditch.
We all know it. Keep in touch,
Percy
Harry continued to read the good luck messages and saw that, every single one of them included the word Quidditch. He flipped the case over and one particular message caught his eye. It was written in loopy, blue writing and Harry was sure he could guess whom this was from.
I know I'm not in your year, and Percy is eying me funny,
so I have to write quickly.
I want to say that in all the time I've known you,
you've been the sweetest friend.
You've always been there for me,
I seriously don't know what I'm going to do without you Oliver.
I know you'll make something great of your life,
Whether it's Quidditch or not, I know what you're capable of.
So I want to say that…
I believe friends are quiet angels,
That lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly
Thank you for being my angel.
Angelina
Harry smiled to himself. He'd always thought Angelina was a very sweet girl, attractive too, but he'd always thought of her as a friend. If Oliver had had feelings for her, he'd kept them very well guarded because Harry hadn't guessed she was more than a friend to him. It sounded as if they had a very close relationship though, Harry thought glancing at the letter again. He felt very sorry for Oliver when he thought about Angelina and Fred. Ron always told him how happy Fred was. It must really kill Oliver, even thinking about it. Harry picked up the empty case and was about to walk out when a few pieces of parchment caught his eye. He strolled over to a desk propped up against the side of the wall and picked the wad of parchment up. He sifted through it and found that the first piece was an official letter from the Puddlemere Untied Board of Officials telling him he'd been 'forcibly dismissed', Harry didn't bother to read that. Then the next piece was a letter that looked as if it was from Angelina, Harry didn't want to read that because he felt he knew more than enough already. The next was a big envelop, Harry opened it and pulled out a handful of photos. The first one was of Oliver in his Puddlemere United robes. The blood red uniforms stood out against the green pitch and Harry laughed as the Oliver in the photo flexed his muscles. The next few ones were of the whole team and they all seemed to be puling funny faces, there were also a few individual photos of people Harry thought were his friends and teammates. The next one Harry found strange, it was as if it didn't belong with the others, but was there all the same. It was of him and Angelina. He was giving her a piggyback and kept threatening to drop her, and Harry thought the scenery looked very familiar. It was only when a tentacle flopped lazily out of the water in the background, did he realise it was Hogwarts. The photo had obviously been taken when they were both still there. He turned it over and it read.
To the best Quidditch mate ever,
never forget me!
Angelina
"That's all I was to her, a Quidditch mate." Oliver's voice made Harry jump and he suddenly became aware that he was going through Oliver's personal things.
"I'm so sorry, I never meant to-"
"Don't worry Harry, curiosity is a good thing. Plus it never killed anyone, least of all a cat, those Muggles, you wonder where they get those sayings from." Harry forced a smile and handed everything to Oliver.
"Anyway, there just some stuff in the lounge, books mainly, I think that's all and then I can leave here for good," Oliver sighed, walking out of his room. Harry couldn't help but feel bad for Oliver; he looked down and saw that he'd dropped a photo.
"Oliver you-" but Harry stopped talking when he looked at the photo. It was of Oliver and a girl. She had her arms draped around his neck and her black silky hair flopped over his shoulder. They were both wearing blood red Puddlemere United robes and the girl in the picture was trying to kiss him on the cheek. Oliver kept protesting, trying to pull her off, but she wouldn't let go.
"Not long ago in that photo, I kissed her back," Oliver had returned and he now looked a little menacing with a rolling pin in his hands. Harry looked, confused at it.
"Found it in the kitchen," he said, noticing Harry's expression. "Used to make cakes in my spare time." He smiled and Harry handed the photo back to him.
"Is that, Faith?"
"Unfortunately," Oliver stated. "Even my photo image wants nothing to do with her."
"Oliver, what exactly happened? What did she do to you?" It happened so quickly and Harry was sure he saw Oliver cringe, but he turned to him and smiled.
"I have a weakness, that you are fully aware of. It wasn't until a few months ago that I discovered it myself."
"What?"
"Common Harry, bright little spark like you, you gotta know."
"Drinking," he said quietly and Oliver nodded his head.
"Exactly. I never knew how much I liked it, until we got drunk out of our minds one night and well-" he stared at Harry from head to toe, as if wondering whether to continue.
"I had a very nice night." Oliver smiled slyly and then shook his head.
"But that's not the point, ever since that night, I thought drinking and getting drunk was the only way I could have a good time. And I admit that it started to get to me, but it never interfered with my Quidditch, never Harry." He seemed to want to make a point and Harry waited.
"One night, before a match, we stayed at home and got so wasted. She drugged me Harry. I never made it to the match, so we had to forfeit. She also said I'd been fixing matches and she had evidence to prove it. We hadn't won many matches, so you know whom they believed. Plus the fact I didn't turn up didn't make it any better." Harry's mouth had opened a little, but Oliver hadn't finished.
"She also said I'd- I'd threatened her, because she wouldn't accept what I was doing, she wouldn't help me fix matches. Oh and she cried for the Board of Officials, did a good job too, I didn't stand a chance."
"She sounds like a maniac," Harry said quietly. He couldn't believe it. That innocent looking girl in the picture had framed one of his friends and it just didn't seem possible.
"More than a maniac Harry, much more," Oliver tossed the picture into the waste bin as he walked out his room, this time for good. Harry followed him and then he was suddenly full of questions.
"How do you know she drugged you?"
"She told me, right after I was 'dismissed' she pulled me aside and told me about Marcus and how Flints look out for each other and how she had me wrapped around her finger. She told me everything."
"Did you even fight, argue and say she was lying?"
"What good would it do, only make me look more guilty," Oliver sighed.
"You admitted to it?" Harry gasped in disbelief.
"No, I did neither. Didn't say a word through the whole hearing."
"Did- did you love her?" Harry last words were chocked out, but Oliver heard them and he turned to face Harry.
"No, and that's the truth. I've never loved anybody," he said as he packed a few books into his suitcase. Harry knew this was a complete lie and it had Angelina written all over it. He walked over to Oliver and picked up 'Conjuring cakes- the easy way' and handed it to him.
"And no, she didn't love me. She was conspiring with Marcus right from the beginning." Oliver breathed deeply as he zipped up his suitcase and smiled at Harry.
"Well, this is the last time I ever see this place," he said, beaming round at his almost-old apartment.
"Bye bye," he said, as he jabbed his wand into his back pocket. He took some floo powder out and threw it into the flames again and after two whooshes, they were both gone.
*Author's Note* Well, another chapter finished and I think this is going to turn out to be a very interesting story :) I own nothing. JK owns everything. Read and review it's the right thing to do, meanwhile I'll go work on the next chapter! :) Oliver rules!!!
"What's the matter Wood? Not what you expected?" she said in an sugary voice, that was followed by a cruel laugh which crackled in the air and resounded with thunder and lightening, lightening…
Oliver Wood woke with a start. The sound of lightening outside made him flinch; thunderstorms had never been his strong point, although he loved the rain. He ran a hand through his hair, as he pulled back the blanket and stood up. Pacing around his room at the Leaky Cauldron he began to think, about the dream. It had been so vivid, so real. At first he had not recognised the devilish girl, but now, it couldn't have been clearer. It was Faith. She had haunted his dreams for a long time now, but this had defiantly been the worst of them. She had used Angelina against him, the one thing he considered to be pure and good in his life and she had managed, even in his sub-consciousness to invade that private memory he had of her. He condemned her for that. For everything she'd put him through. He stopped pacing and silently agreed with Harry. He was not going to let some girl come in the way of him and his dream. Quidditch was his life and the Puddlemere United team was what he now lived for. Starting tomorrow, he would reclaim his life, and nothing would stop him, not even Faith.
"Morning Oliver," Hermione said as Oliver ambled into the dining room. He immediately smelt bacon and eggs and asked the waiter to bring him whatever smelt so good. The waiter looked confused at him and then hurried off to make an order based on his senses.
"Sleep well?" Hermione asked.
"You can say that," he said a little disbelievingly.
"So," Harry said, leaning in towards Oliver. "You ready to began plan A." Oliver smiled and leaned in closer to Harry.
"We're not on a spy mission you know," he said in a whisper and Harry laughed.
"So I've been thinking-"
"So have I," Oliver cut Harry off. "Today the team has practice from 2 until 8. I was thinking Ron and Hermione could go and do some snooping; see what they can find out. Then you and I can go to my flat and pack up my things. The flat came with the job and well, I need to be out by today so that Marcus can move in." There was a long silence at the table, broken by Ron who plopped himself down at the table with a big thud. Hermione frowned.
"Honestly Ron, couldn't you be more-"
"Ladylike?" he chortled in a girlish voice. They all laughed and it was followed by Oliver getting a serious look on his face.
"I think I'm going to stay here until I can find another place, and no I won't stay with any of you-" he said sternly, looking at the expressions on Ron and Hermione's faces.
"I have more than enough money for me to get through okay."
"Well, that plan sounds better than mine," Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"So I guess we start after breakfast then," Ron said.
"Only after breakfast," Oliver said hungrily as he stared longingly at Hermione's bacon sandwich.
"Can you hurry with that order?" Hermione called across the room, carefully moving her plate away from Oliver's salivating mouth.
After breakfast, Oliver showered and put on a pair of old tatty jeans and a brown polar neck, the same clothes he had been wearing the night that he got completely plastered in an attempt to drink everything away. Thinking about it now, when he woke up the next morning, his problems were still there and they had been accompanied with a really big headache. Damn Faith, this was all her fault. She was the one who introduced me to drinking in the first place, Oliver thought bitterly. But when it touched his tongue he felt so alive, and it buzzed as it flowed through his veins. But no more, he'd seen his errors and the tone that Harry had used on him last night was enough to keep him away from licker forever. He'd sounded so disappointed, his former captain had been reduced to something that was beyond his fresh imagination, and he wasn't going to disappoint one of his good friends ever again. Oliver picked up his long trench coat and swung it over his shoulders. Never again, he thought as he stepped out the room.
"You three ready?" Oliver asked as he met Harry, Ron and Hermione at the nearest fireplace.
"Are we doing floo powder?" Harry asked a little squeamishly.
"Yes we are."
"I'm ready," Harry squeaked.
"Okay so Ron, Hermione you'll go first." Oliver took a silky pouch out from one of his trench coat pockets and threw a little bit of floo powder into the fire. The flames immediately rose and changed colour.
"Step in and say PU Head office, it'll get you there. I trust you can find you're way around," he said looking at Hermione.
"Harry and I will meet you at 2:30," Oliver said before Ron and Hermione disappeared into the flames. Then Oliver turned to look at Harry.
"Step in and say, the love shack," Harry stared incredulously at Oliver, who blushed.
"It's just a name," he said, before stepping inside the grate and being whisked away. The next thing he knew, he was in his semi-bare apartment, exactly the way he had left it. Harry joined him a few seconds later. He fell to the ground and Oliver helped him up.
"Not my favourite way to travel either," he winked at Harry.
"So where do we start?" Harry asked, dusting soot off his robes.
"Well, there's a suitcase in my bedroom, can you go and get that?" Oliver asked.
"Sure."
"Oh and whatever else I've left in that room." Harry smiled and walked off in the direction Oliver pointed him in. As Harry entered his eyes scanned the room and settled upon a very old, tatty looking suitcase resting on the floor. Harry picked it up and saw that it had writing all over it. When he looked closer, he realised that everyone who had singed it had been in Oliver's year at Hogwarts. Harry studied it and saw a message written in very small neat writing by Percy Weasely in red- which Harry thought was very ironic.
Good luck for the future Oliver.
You were a great friend and I don't think I'll forget that.
I don't need to tell you that your destiny is Quidditch.
We all know it. Keep in touch,
Percy
Harry continued to read the good luck messages and saw that, every single one of them included the word Quidditch. He flipped the case over and one particular message caught his eye. It was written in loopy, blue writing and Harry was sure he could guess whom this was from.
I know I'm not in your year, and Percy is eying me funny,
so I have to write quickly.
I want to say that in all the time I've known you,
you've been the sweetest friend.
You've always been there for me,
I seriously don't know what I'm going to do without you Oliver.
I know you'll make something great of your life,
Whether it's Quidditch or not, I know what you're capable of.
So I want to say that…
I believe friends are quiet angels,
That lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly
Thank you for being my angel.
Angelina
Harry smiled to himself. He'd always thought Angelina was a very sweet girl, attractive too, but he'd always thought of her as a friend. If Oliver had had feelings for her, he'd kept them very well guarded because Harry hadn't guessed she was more than a friend to him. It sounded as if they had a very close relationship though, Harry thought glancing at the letter again. He felt very sorry for Oliver when he thought about Angelina and Fred. Ron always told him how happy Fred was. It must really kill Oliver, even thinking about it. Harry picked up the empty case and was about to walk out when a few pieces of parchment caught his eye. He strolled over to a desk propped up against the side of the wall and picked the wad of parchment up. He sifted through it and found that the first piece was an official letter from the Puddlemere Untied Board of Officials telling him he'd been 'forcibly dismissed', Harry didn't bother to read that. Then the next piece was a letter that looked as if it was from Angelina, Harry didn't want to read that because he felt he knew more than enough already. The next was a big envelop, Harry opened it and pulled out a handful of photos. The first one was of Oliver in his Puddlemere United robes. The blood red uniforms stood out against the green pitch and Harry laughed as the Oliver in the photo flexed his muscles. The next few ones were of the whole team and they all seemed to be puling funny faces, there were also a few individual photos of people Harry thought were his friends and teammates. The next one Harry found strange, it was as if it didn't belong with the others, but was there all the same. It was of him and Angelina. He was giving her a piggyback and kept threatening to drop her, and Harry thought the scenery looked very familiar. It was only when a tentacle flopped lazily out of the water in the background, did he realise it was Hogwarts. The photo had obviously been taken when they were both still there. He turned it over and it read.
To the best Quidditch mate ever,
never forget me!
Angelina
"That's all I was to her, a Quidditch mate." Oliver's voice made Harry jump and he suddenly became aware that he was going through Oliver's personal things.
"I'm so sorry, I never meant to-"
"Don't worry Harry, curiosity is a good thing. Plus it never killed anyone, least of all a cat, those Muggles, you wonder where they get those sayings from." Harry forced a smile and handed everything to Oliver.
"Anyway, there just some stuff in the lounge, books mainly, I think that's all and then I can leave here for good," Oliver sighed, walking out of his room. Harry couldn't help but feel bad for Oliver; he looked down and saw that he'd dropped a photo.
"Oliver you-" but Harry stopped talking when he looked at the photo. It was of Oliver and a girl. She had her arms draped around his neck and her black silky hair flopped over his shoulder. They were both wearing blood red Puddlemere United robes and the girl in the picture was trying to kiss him on the cheek. Oliver kept protesting, trying to pull her off, but she wouldn't let go.
"Not long ago in that photo, I kissed her back," Oliver had returned and he now looked a little menacing with a rolling pin in his hands. Harry looked, confused at it.
"Found it in the kitchen," he said, noticing Harry's expression. "Used to make cakes in my spare time." He smiled and Harry handed the photo back to him.
"Is that, Faith?"
"Unfortunately," Oliver stated. "Even my photo image wants nothing to do with her."
"Oliver, what exactly happened? What did she do to you?" It happened so quickly and Harry was sure he saw Oliver cringe, but he turned to him and smiled.
"I have a weakness, that you are fully aware of. It wasn't until a few months ago that I discovered it myself."
"What?"
"Common Harry, bright little spark like you, you gotta know."
"Drinking," he said quietly and Oliver nodded his head.
"Exactly. I never knew how much I liked it, until we got drunk out of our minds one night and well-" he stared at Harry from head to toe, as if wondering whether to continue.
"I had a very nice night." Oliver smiled slyly and then shook his head.
"But that's not the point, ever since that night, I thought drinking and getting drunk was the only way I could have a good time. And I admit that it started to get to me, but it never interfered with my Quidditch, never Harry." He seemed to want to make a point and Harry waited.
"One night, before a match, we stayed at home and got so wasted. She drugged me Harry. I never made it to the match, so we had to forfeit. She also said I'd been fixing matches and she had evidence to prove it. We hadn't won many matches, so you know whom they believed. Plus the fact I didn't turn up didn't make it any better." Harry's mouth had opened a little, but Oliver hadn't finished.
"She also said I'd- I'd threatened her, because she wouldn't accept what I was doing, she wouldn't help me fix matches. Oh and she cried for the Board of Officials, did a good job too, I didn't stand a chance."
"She sounds like a maniac," Harry said quietly. He couldn't believe it. That innocent looking girl in the picture had framed one of his friends and it just didn't seem possible.
"More than a maniac Harry, much more," Oliver tossed the picture into the waste bin as he walked out his room, this time for good. Harry followed him and then he was suddenly full of questions.
"How do you know she drugged you?"
"She told me, right after I was 'dismissed' she pulled me aside and told me about Marcus and how Flints look out for each other and how she had me wrapped around her finger. She told me everything."
"Did you even fight, argue and say she was lying?"
"What good would it do, only make me look more guilty," Oliver sighed.
"You admitted to it?" Harry gasped in disbelief.
"No, I did neither. Didn't say a word through the whole hearing."
"Did- did you love her?" Harry last words were chocked out, but Oliver heard them and he turned to face Harry.
"No, and that's the truth. I've never loved anybody," he said as he packed a few books into his suitcase. Harry knew this was a complete lie and it had Angelina written all over it. He walked over to Oliver and picked up 'Conjuring cakes- the easy way' and handed it to him.
"And no, she didn't love me. She was conspiring with Marcus right from the beginning." Oliver breathed deeply as he zipped up his suitcase and smiled at Harry.
"Well, this is the last time I ever see this place," he said, beaming round at his almost-old apartment.
"Bye bye," he said, as he jabbed his wand into his back pocket. He took some floo powder out and threw it into the flames again and after two whooshes, they were both gone.
*Author's Note* Well, another chapter finished and I think this is going to turn out to be a very interesting story :) I own nothing. JK owns everything. Read and review it's the right thing to do, meanwhile I'll go work on the next chapter! :) Oliver rules!!!