The plot belongs to me, Kayah Devine. All characters that are not already mentioned in J K Rowling's books also belong to me. But everything else belongs to her...Hogwarts, Oliver Wood *drools*, Quidditch, etc etc. Veneficus Academia is all mine as well. It's an Australian Academy of Magick. Please read and review, tell me your thoughts on how I can improve my fic.
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Chapter One · Quidditch Talent
He stared at her from below the seats in the stands; his golden brown eyes following her every outstanding move.
She was dressed in casual clothes, so it was impossible to know what house she was from.
He, as the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, was, as always, dressed in his Gryffindor Quidditch robes, his gloved hands tightening around his broom as he continued to watch her daring plays.
She looked new, he hadn't seen her around before, and he was in his sixth year. After that long he practically knew everyone, by face at least.
She looked like she belonged in fifth or sixth year; maybe even seventh…but he still couldn't remember her from anywhere.
Her perfectly straight black hair was pulled back into a simple plait, and it flew behind her as she weaved in between the hoops at the opposite end, sharply.
He gasped slightly as she separated herself from the goalposts, and pulled into a perfect dive, at an extreme speed.
"Wronski Feint…" Oliver thought automatically, cringing slightly as she dove towards the ground at an alarming speed.
She pulled the Feint off perfectly, nearly as well as Krum could ever perform it.
'Please be in Gryffindor…' He wished. 'We could really use someone like you…' he continued watching her. 'Hell…I could use something like you…'
Her perfect Quidditch skills…her slender, lithe, Quidditch trained body, clothed in a velvety looking jumper with long black pants and a ripped looking ankle length skirt, with black boots for good measure.
'Very interesting indeed…'
She was now throwing a bewitched ball through the air now, aiming at the hoops with deadly accuracy, the ball flying back to her hands with a simple Accio charm every time she missed.
He left the box of Quidditch equipment at his feet, the Golden Snitch safely enclosed in his fingers, as he steadied his broom with his other hand.
He rose into the air, and was within talking distance with her in seconds. She casted him a careful glance before turning back to her practising.
"Her there." He greeted, intercepting the black ball she was using. "Want to use a Quaffle instead? I have one down there…"
She didn't even consider it. "Thanks, but no thanks…" she replied, a hard edge on her tone as she murmured something and her black ball zoomed out of his hold and into her own hands.
"You're fantastic at Quidditch by the way…not many your age have your skills." Oliver complimented, not fazed at all by her actions.
She paused, as if contemplating whether to spin off another rude remark or just accept it.
"…Thanks…" she replied after a while.
He watched her practise for a while, giving a few pointers every now and then which she accepted either silently or with a nod.
They worked together for nearly three hours, Oliver releasing the Golden Snitch halfway through, finding out that she also had a good eye for the small golden flicker while she flew over and around the grounds.
'She might even be able to fake as a Chaser, without touching the Quaffle of course, while she actually had the title of the Seeker or something…keep her a secret until it's needed…' Oliver thought to himself, the Quidditch Captain gleam back in his eyes.
As the afternoon light dimmed, and evening started to set in, rain started to drizzle down. But not even the lack in light or the fact they were getting freezing wet could make the two Quidditch fanatics want to turn back into the castle.
'·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·' '·.·.·.·.·'
"Here…" Oliver offered, holding out his cloak. It was black and looked as if he hadn't worn it yet, since it was still warm and dry.
He held it out to her, a warm smile on his face, even though he was soaked to the bone.
She hesitantly accepted it.
"Uhhh…I probably don't want to know the answer, but where were you keeping this if it's all dry?" she asked, wrapping it around her shoulders.
He grinned. "It's been clipped under my other cloak all this time." He replied, indicating his Gryffindor Quidditch robes. "So it's totally safe…"
She actually half smiled in return.
"We'd better get back to our dorms to get ready…dinner will be ready soon…" Oliver noted, not sounding too happy about leaving his beloved sport.
"I guess so…" she didn't look any more ready then he was to leave the pitch.
They stayed in silence for a while before Oliver broke the peace. "Give you a race for the snitch." Oliver grinned, and released the winged golden orb. It darted around her head, her eyes following it carefully and then continued following it as it circled Oliver and darted off.
"It's darker, so it'll have shadows to hide in." Oliver warned, coaching his opponent.
"Start the race already." She urged, a determined grin on her face.
Oliver chuckled to himself. The love for Quidditch, The Quidditch Flame, he liked to call it, burnt strongly in this lass.
"No cheating, no holding onto brooms, hexing, none of that." He added.
"I don't need to cheat." She smirked. "Just start the race already or I'll start it myself."
Oliver liked her already.
"Three…Two…One…GO!!!"
They both zoomed away, neck and neck, side-by-side.
They completed a lap of the pitch together, before she suddenly changed direction and headed upwards.
'I've really got to learn her name…' Oliver thought to himself, as his eyes scanned the air for any sign of the snitch.
He saw none, and by the way she was heading down again, meant that she must've just wanted to vent energy.
"Wronski Feint…" he murmured to himself as he watched her aim her broom directly for the ground.
She was heading straight towards him from above, but he could tell she knew what she was doing.
Her face was held in calm concentration with a slice of contentment as well, as she dove down past him, just centimetres away.
She completed her perfect Wronski Feint, and met his deep golden brown-eyed gaze with her own cool and calm blue eyes. They almost looked green, like the sea he had visited with his family in the summer vacation.
They were outlined deeply in black, which stood out greatly against her pale white skin.
'She's almost gothic…' he thought to himself, feeling fond of her already.
He flew in the opposite direction as she did same.
'She needs a gothic name then…something bold and strong. Not girly or soft or sweet…something like…Darikka…'
As they passed each other again, both still gazing into the night, hungry for the snitch, Oliver called out, "My name's Oliver Wood."
"Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, sixth year, full blood." Darikka retorted.
Oliver nearly lost grip on his broom. "How'd you know that?" he asked, amazed. She couldn't possibly be new if she knew all that, as if she knew him…
"When I joined I requested all the students names and information. Just basic information. I have a good memory, and because of my special reasons for joining so late, and also me being who I am, they gave it to me."
Oliver took this information in, nodding in interest. He'd have to ask about that more later. "So what house are you in then?" he asked, pleading to whoever was out there that she was to become a Gryffindor.
"None of them."
"What…?" Oliver asked, now thoroughly confused. Maybe she was just a teacher's niece or someone visiting for a while…
"…It's too hard to explain right now. Maybe I will later if I see you again…" Darikka paused, looking as if something very deep was bothering her.
"I live here now…I arrived here yesterday. This is my first time outside though…" she continued, slightly changing the subject.
During this conversation they had drifted closer, so they could talk and didn't have to yell.
"Interesting…" Oliver replied. "Can you tell me about it during dinner? Do you eat with us?"
She paused again, but only slightly. "…I'm allowed…and I will tonight…but I don't know about telling you. Depends on who's around. I don't want just anyone listening in. In fact…-" She flew away without another word, and it took Oliver a few short moments to realise that she'd spotted the snitch!
Oliver urged his broom, and he dashed after her, chasing for the snitch desperately. After all this, he couldn't let her win just because he'd lost his concentration in simple chitchat.
Darikka slowed down slightly, grinning, at him as he pulled up even with beside her. She looped him with excellent control, then she sped off again, leaving him slightly dazed at her near-perfect Quidditch skills and her hidden, but alluring manner.
He quickly caught up to her again, just as she raised herself to kneel on her broomstick.
"Careful there Rikka…" he shot her a half encouraging look, half worried, using her nickname he'd given her without her knowing without even thinking.
She seemed to ignore him and her new nickname, all her concentration on the snitch and her surroundings.
Then, with a slightly off-balanced leap, she pounced towards the snitch, just catching it as she tumbled to the meter drop to the ground, and rolled to a stop.
Oliver halted sharply over her on his broom and fell to the ground next to her, mentally signing her up as a Gryffindor reserve.
She was laughing as he reached her, the golden snitch fluttering lightly in her hold.
"You okay?" he asked, making sure as he pulled him broom from the air to the ground.
She looked so alive, energy was surrounding her totally. Her once icy green blue eyes were sparkling, and she suddenly looked younger, a fifth year maybe, as troubles and duties lifted from her features. She was beautiful.
He could see all this now that she didn't have a guarded expression covering her feelings.
He was rewarded with a smile for his troubles of asking his simple question.
"Beat ya!" she exclaimed happily, her accent coating her words thickly.
He nodded thoughtfully, scratching the back of his head.
"Sure did. Superbly as well. You wouldn't, by any chance, wish to join Gryffindor's Quidditch Team…?" he asked, carefully hiding his eager and hopeful tone as if the idea had just come to him. She was already shaking her head though.
"I'm not allowed to join any team fully. Headmaster Dumbledore has already spoked to me about that subject. If I choose to play, and if I get chosen, then I play on a rota basis. Say, Ravenclaw one week, then Hufflepuff, then Slytherin, then Gryffindor. But only if they choose me. Ravenclaw mightn't, and I might only play for Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Slytherin…" She trailed off. "But thanks for the offer."
She stood up. Her black leggings were ruffled, just like her top and her hair, even though the skirt she wore still hung down around her calves nicely.
She swung her broom over her shoulder and watched him with a small smile.
"Nice playing against yeh Wood. Nice match, fair opponent. Talk to you at dinner maybe." She looked as if she wanted to say something else. Oliver hoped that she did say what was in her mind, but when she did, it only confused her more.
"And thanks for not treating me like a freak…" She started to walk away, leaving Oliver silent as her last comment stumped him.
She turned back and looked at him again, her head slightly tilted as she cocked her gaze at him.
"By the way…I'm Tayska. Tayska-Salvi De'Blair." And with that extra mouthful of a name, she sauntered away; carrying her gothic self back into the castle and leaving him to pack up the equipment.
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Not great, I know. But I'm still working on it, lol. Please review and tell me how to fix it up!
Chapter One · Quidditch Talent
He stared at her from below the seats in the stands; his golden brown eyes following her every outstanding move.
She was dressed in casual clothes, so it was impossible to know what house she was from.
He, as the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, was, as always, dressed in his Gryffindor Quidditch robes, his gloved hands tightening around his broom as he continued to watch her daring plays.
She looked new, he hadn't seen her around before, and he was in his sixth year. After that long he practically knew everyone, by face at least.
She looked like she belonged in fifth or sixth year; maybe even seventh…but he still couldn't remember her from anywhere.
Her perfectly straight black hair was pulled back into a simple plait, and it flew behind her as she weaved in between the hoops at the opposite end, sharply.
He gasped slightly as she separated herself from the goalposts, and pulled into a perfect dive, at an extreme speed.
"Wronski Feint…" Oliver thought automatically, cringing slightly as she dove towards the ground at an alarming speed.
She pulled the Feint off perfectly, nearly as well as Krum could ever perform it.
'Please be in Gryffindor…' He wished. 'We could really use someone like you…' he continued watching her. 'Hell…I could use something like you…'
Her perfect Quidditch skills…her slender, lithe, Quidditch trained body, clothed in a velvety looking jumper with long black pants and a ripped looking ankle length skirt, with black boots for good measure.
'Very interesting indeed…'
She was now throwing a bewitched ball through the air now, aiming at the hoops with deadly accuracy, the ball flying back to her hands with a simple Accio charm every time she missed.
He left the box of Quidditch equipment at his feet, the Golden Snitch safely enclosed in his fingers, as he steadied his broom with his other hand.
He rose into the air, and was within talking distance with her in seconds. She casted him a careful glance before turning back to her practising.
"Her there." He greeted, intercepting the black ball she was using. "Want to use a Quaffle instead? I have one down there…"
She didn't even consider it. "Thanks, but no thanks…" she replied, a hard edge on her tone as she murmured something and her black ball zoomed out of his hold and into her own hands.
"You're fantastic at Quidditch by the way…not many your age have your skills." Oliver complimented, not fazed at all by her actions.
She paused, as if contemplating whether to spin off another rude remark or just accept it.
"…Thanks…" she replied after a while.
He watched her practise for a while, giving a few pointers every now and then which she accepted either silently or with a nod.
They worked together for nearly three hours, Oliver releasing the Golden Snitch halfway through, finding out that she also had a good eye for the small golden flicker while she flew over and around the grounds.
'She might even be able to fake as a Chaser, without touching the Quaffle of course, while she actually had the title of the Seeker or something…keep her a secret until it's needed…' Oliver thought to himself, the Quidditch Captain gleam back in his eyes.
As the afternoon light dimmed, and evening started to set in, rain started to drizzle down. But not even the lack in light or the fact they were getting freezing wet could make the two Quidditch fanatics want to turn back into the castle.
"Here…" Oliver offered, holding out his cloak. It was black and looked as if he hadn't worn it yet, since it was still warm and dry.
He held it out to her, a warm smile on his face, even though he was soaked to the bone.
She hesitantly accepted it.
"Uhhh…I probably don't want to know the answer, but where were you keeping this if it's all dry?" she asked, wrapping it around her shoulders.
He grinned. "It's been clipped under my other cloak all this time." He replied, indicating his Gryffindor Quidditch robes. "So it's totally safe…"
She actually half smiled in return.
"We'd better get back to our dorms to get ready…dinner will be ready soon…" Oliver noted, not sounding too happy about leaving his beloved sport.
"I guess so…" she didn't look any more ready then he was to leave the pitch.
They stayed in silence for a while before Oliver broke the peace. "Give you a race for the snitch." Oliver grinned, and released the winged golden orb. It darted around her head, her eyes following it carefully and then continued following it as it circled Oliver and darted off.
"It's darker, so it'll have shadows to hide in." Oliver warned, coaching his opponent.
"Start the race already." She urged, a determined grin on her face.
Oliver chuckled to himself. The love for Quidditch, The Quidditch Flame, he liked to call it, burnt strongly in this lass.
"No cheating, no holding onto brooms, hexing, none of that." He added.
"I don't need to cheat." She smirked. "Just start the race already or I'll start it myself."
Oliver liked her already.
"Three…Two…One…GO!!!"
They both zoomed away, neck and neck, side-by-side.
They completed a lap of the pitch together, before she suddenly changed direction and headed upwards.
'I've really got to learn her name…' Oliver thought to himself, as his eyes scanned the air for any sign of the snitch.
He saw none, and by the way she was heading down again, meant that she must've just wanted to vent energy.
"Wronski Feint…" he murmured to himself as he watched her aim her broom directly for the ground.
She was heading straight towards him from above, but he could tell she knew what she was doing.
Her face was held in calm concentration with a slice of contentment as well, as she dove down past him, just centimetres away.
She completed her perfect Wronski Feint, and met his deep golden brown-eyed gaze with her own cool and calm blue eyes. They almost looked green, like the sea he had visited with his family in the summer vacation.
They were outlined deeply in black, which stood out greatly against her pale white skin.
'She's almost gothic…' he thought to himself, feeling fond of her already.
He flew in the opposite direction as she did same.
'She needs a gothic name then…something bold and strong. Not girly or soft or sweet…something like…Darikka…'
As they passed each other again, both still gazing into the night, hungry for the snitch, Oliver called out, "My name's Oliver Wood."
"Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, sixth year, full blood." Darikka retorted.
Oliver nearly lost grip on his broom. "How'd you know that?" he asked, amazed. She couldn't possibly be new if she knew all that, as if she knew him…
"When I joined I requested all the students names and information. Just basic information. I have a good memory, and because of my special reasons for joining so late, and also me being who I am, they gave it to me."
Oliver took this information in, nodding in interest. He'd have to ask about that more later. "So what house are you in then?" he asked, pleading to whoever was out there that she was to become a Gryffindor.
"None of them."
"What…?" Oliver asked, now thoroughly confused. Maybe she was just a teacher's niece or someone visiting for a while…
"…It's too hard to explain right now. Maybe I will later if I see you again…" Darikka paused, looking as if something very deep was bothering her.
"I live here now…I arrived here yesterday. This is my first time outside though…" she continued, slightly changing the subject.
During this conversation they had drifted closer, so they could talk and didn't have to yell.
"Interesting…" Oliver replied. "Can you tell me about it during dinner? Do you eat with us?"
She paused again, but only slightly. "…I'm allowed…and I will tonight…but I don't know about telling you. Depends on who's around. I don't want just anyone listening in. In fact…-" She flew away without another word, and it took Oliver a few short moments to realise that she'd spotted the snitch!
Oliver urged his broom, and he dashed after her, chasing for the snitch desperately. After all this, he couldn't let her win just because he'd lost his concentration in simple chitchat.
Darikka slowed down slightly, grinning, at him as he pulled up even with beside her. She looped him with excellent control, then she sped off again, leaving him slightly dazed at her near-perfect Quidditch skills and her hidden, but alluring manner.
He quickly caught up to her again, just as she raised herself to kneel on her broomstick.
"Careful there Rikka…" he shot her a half encouraging look, half worried, using her nickname he'd given her without her knowing without even thinking.
She seemed to ignore him and her new nickname, all her concentration on the snitch and her surroundings.
Then, with a slightly off-balanced leap, she pounced towards the snitch, just catching it as she tumbled to the meter drop to the ground, and rolled to a stop.
Oliver halted sharply over her on his broom and fell to the ground next to her, mentally signing her up as a Gryffindor reserve.
She was laughing as he reached her, the golden snitch fluttering lightly in her hold.
"You okay?" he asked, making sure as he pulled him broom from the air to the ground.
She looked so alive, energy was surrounding her totally. Her once icy green blue eyes were sparkling, and she suddenly looked younger, a fifth year maybe, as troubles and duties lifted from her features. She was beautiful.
He could see all this now that she didn't have a guarded expression covering her feelings.
He was rewarded with a smile for his troubles of asking his simple question.
"Beat ya!" she exclaimed happily, her accent coating her words thickly.
He nodded thoughtfully, scratching the back of his head.
"Sure did. Superbly as well. You wouldn't, by any chance, wish to join Gryffindor's Quidditch Team…?" he asked, carefully hiding his eager and hopeful tone as if the idea had just come to him. She was already shaking her head though.
"I'm not allowed to join any team fully. Headmaster Dumbledore has already spoked to me about that subject. If I choose to play, and if I get chosen, then I play on a rota basis. Say, Ravenclaw one week, then Hufflepuff, then Slytherin, then Gryffindor. But only if they choose me. Ravenclaw mightn't, and I might only play for Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Slytherin…" She trailed off. "But thanks for the offer."
She stood up. Her black leggings were ruffled, just like her top and her hair, even though the skirt she wore still hung down around her calves nicely.
She swung her broom over her shoulder and watched him with a small smile.
"Nice playing against yeh Wood. Nice match, fair opponent. Talk to you at dinner maybe." She looked as if she wanted to say something else. Oliver hoped that she did say what was in her mind, but when she did, it only confused her more.
"And thanks for not treating me like a freak…" She started to walk away, leaving Oliver silent as her last comment stumped him.
She turned back and looked at him again, her head slightly tilted as she cocked her gaze at him.
"By the way…I'm Tayska. Tayska-Salvi De'Blair." And with that extra mouthful of a name, she sauntered away; carrying her gothic self back into the castle and leaving him to pack up the equipment.
Not great, I know. But I'm still working on it, lol. Please review and tell me how to fix it up!