Oliver ran his fingers through his hair. Jason was pacing up and down in 
front of the team, mapping out the new strategies and even though Oliver was 
trying his level best to concentrate on what his captain was saying, he 
couldn't seem to rub the sleep from his eyes. Perhaps it had to do with the 
fact that he hadn't slept much the previous night. Indeed the thought of 
leaving Alison all alone that morning had been heart wrenching. But Oliver 
was determined to make a good impression and do well. He was finally where 
he had always wanted to be. Quidditch was his life…well, Quidditch and 
Alison.
For the next few hours, Jason Carlson worked his team harder than Oliver 
though was possible. He chuckled to himself as he imagined what Fred and 
George's face would look like were he to even suggest as rigorous a training 
program. As they were finishing up, Jason walked over to Oliver and after 
commending him on his excellent work that day, suggested that he join the 
team in the local pub. Secretly he had been hoping that Alison might want to 
do something else that night. Nevertheless, he promised Jason that he'd try 
his best to be there. At this, his captain gave him a knowing look, and 
said, 'I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't turn up after all!' Oliver 
could feel the blush creeping up his neck and for the hundredth time, cursed 
his fair skin.
When he got home from practice, his shirt was drenched in sweat. Alison was 
in the kitchen, and as Oliver entered through the door, enticing aromas 
shrouded him in their welcoming embrace. He closed the door as softly as he 
possibly could and made his way to the kitchen. To his delight, Alison was 
standing in front of the gas cooker, frying something in a saucepan. He slid 
behind her, and without warning, wrapped his arms around her. She shrieked 
in surprise and nearly knocked over the hot saucepan. She was about to turn 
on Oliver and tell him never to do that again, when he kissed her softly on 
the neck. As his lips brushed against her neck, she felt her insides melt 
and she turned to him, a big smile playing on her lips. Oliver pecked her on 
the neck and murmured, 'Jason was wondering if we would like to join the 
rest of the team at the pub today.' He prayed that Alison would decline but 
grinning, she replied, 'That sounds like fun! What time do we have to meet 
them there?'
Oliver gave her his best puppy dog smile and whispered, 'well…I was hoping 
we could do something else.' He pulled her closer to him and ran his fingers 
through her hair. Chuckling softly, she pulled away and replied, 'we'll have 
plenty of time for THAT when we get back.' Feeling slightly better, Oliver 
pulled off his sweaty shirt and tossed it into the washing pile, before 
strolling into the bathroom for a shower.
 
*****
An hour later, Oliver and Alison walked into 'The Silver Unicorn' pub just a 
couple of blocks away from their cottage. Immediately loud music assaulted 
their ears, and the smell of freshly brewed butterbeer assailed their 
nostrils. Slightly disorientated, Oliver looked around for Jason and the 
rest of the team. He finally spotted them at the other side of the pub, 
seated at a large table that Oliver suspected was reserved for them due to 
all the Puddlemere United paraphernalia that was draped along the wall 
behind it.
When he saw them, Jason stood up and shook Oliver's hand heartily before 
pecking Alison on the cheek. He then proceeded to introduce her to all the 
members of the team.
Chris Marshall and Stephen Cairns were the other two chasers on the team, 
apart from Jason himself. They were both tall men, lean and fit. But that 
was where the similarities ended. Chris had curly blonde hair, pale skin and 
bright blue eyes. Stephen, on the other hand, had raven black locks, was 
well-tanned and smoky gray eyes. Damien McGrath and Adam Pollock were the 
two beaters, and they were both stocky and well built with broad shoulders 
and incredibly muscular arms. Damien's nose was crooked probably from having 
been hit by a stray bludger. Apart from that, he was quite attractive with 
dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and clean-cut features. Adam was not 
particularly attractive, with his mousy brown hair falling in his eyes and a 
generous spattering of freckles all over his pale face, but Alison was to 
learn that what Adam lacked in appearance, he more than made up for in 
personality. The last member of the team, apart from Oliver was the seeker, 
Brett Lee. Built like a seeker, he was possibly the most attractive member 
of the team…until Oliver had arrived. With his short brown hair and 
smoldering eyes, he seemed like the kind of guy that fathers had nightmares 
about.
They all nodded in acknowledgement as Jason introduced Alison to them…all 
except for Adam, the beater who jumped out of his seat and began to pump her 
hand up and down. In a conspiratorial voice, just loud enough for the rest 
of the team to hear, he said, 'So you're the reason Oliver couldn't looked 
so unhappy to be at practice today!' Oliver blushed deeply but Alison just 
laughed. The two pulled up chairs and sat down with the rest of the team.
The weeks passed in a whirlwind of happiness and contentment. Her love for 
him grew with every second that they spent together. Oliver's life had never 
been better.  Both professionally and romantically, his future had never 
looked brighter. Alison loved Puddlemere and she got along well with 
Oliver's teammates, who in turn thought Alison was the best thing since 
sliced bread. Their girlfriends always complained about all the time they 
spent playing Quidditch…Alison on the other hand turned up at the practices 
every so often. Recently, on hearing from Oliver what a spectacular Chaser 
Alison had been, Jason had allowed her to join in during practice, and 
needless to say she had been an instant hit.
One Tuesday morning, Alison awoke to find Oliver shivering violently. 
Worried, she pressed her hand against her forehead. To her immense 
consternation, his skin was practically aflame. Oliver opened his eyes 
lethargically, and Alison could see that they were bloodshot. She jumped out 
of bed and ran into the kitchen. She pulled out a large steel container and 
poured some icy cold water into it. Once back in the bedroom, she dipped a 
small piece of cloth into the cold water, squeezed it and then placed it on 
his forehead. Oliver muttered incomprehensibly and Alison felt so helpless. 
She couldn't call anyone because there were no telephones. She couldn't owl 
anyone, as most people would be asleep at this hour. Once it seemed that 
Oliver had dozed off, she got up very slowly and tiptoed to the door. She 
pulled on Oliver's shoes and coat and then left the house. Once in the 
street, she broke into a run. She didn't want to leave Oliver alone for too 
long. She headed straight for the cottage next door…Brett's cottage.
Nobody answered when she knocked. In despair, she pulled out her wand and 
unlocked the door. She was sure Brett would understand. The house was 
silent. She thought she heard faint snoring in the bedroom, so she made her 
way there. She knocked on the wooden door, softly at first and then when she 
got no response, she knocked harder. Finally, she pushed open the door and 
peeked in. her eyes widened in horror when she saw a man lying in the bed, 
partially covered by the blankets but looking for all the world as naked as 
a new born baby. That, in itself, wasn't the problem though. Oliver, 
himself, had confessed to sleeping in the nude when he was a teenager. the 
problem was…the man wasn't Brett.
Alison's mind whirled with shock at this discovery. She tried to convince 
herself that perhaps Brett was in another room, that perhapsthis was his 
brother or best friend or…
But just when she was beginning to calm down, she heard the door of the 
bathroom opening. Before she had time to react, Brett was standing in front 
of her, a towel around his waist, a look of dismay on his normally handsome 
face. Trying to act as though it were commonplace for her to find out that 
her boyfriend's teammate was gay, she said, 'Oliver's sick…I need you to get 
Jason and a doctor as soon as possible.'
Brett made as if to stop her from leaving, and said, 'we need to talk about 
this…'. Turning her back on him, Alison replied ' not now…I have to go back 
to Oliver. Please go fetch Jason, and tell him to get a doctor. It's urgent. 
Please, Brett.'
When the doctor arrived, he quelled Alison's fears and told her that it was 
only a very serious form of the flu that had been going around. The doctor 
left after a few minutes and after ensuring that Alison was all right to 
stay alone, Jason left.
That night, Alison was sitting outside by the fence, when Brett approached 
her. his hair was tousled and he had huge bags under his eyes. he didn't 
look like he had slept too much after Alison had barged in on him and his 
*friend*. Without a word, he sat down next to her. after a few seconds, the 
silence grew unbearable, and he whispered, 'I'm not going to pretend to 
you…because there seems to be no point. All I ask is that you hear me out…'
Alison interrupted, 'you don't have to explain…you're a grown man…what and 
who you do in your spare time is entirely your business.'
'I just…I don't want anyone to know…the prejudice and the bigotry that I 
would have to face would be incredible…not just from the media, but from my 
teammates. And I honestly love Quidditch…'
'I know you do…I've watched you play. And I wont tell a soul…'
'Not even Oliver?'
'…not even Oliver.'
The vow of secrecy that Alison made hung in the air, and even though he said 
nothing, Alison could tell that Brett was tremendously grateful. After a few 
seconds, he said, 'do you hate me for it?'
Alison glanced at him and replied, 'No…I respect you for being strongenough 
to be different.'
'Thank you…I love him, you know. It's not just a fling in the park. I have 
loved him for the past three years.'
'whats his name?'
'Mark.'
For the first time since he had sat down, Alison looked Brett in the eye and 
said, 'He's very handsome!'
Brett burst out laughing, mostly with relief at the thought that Alison was 
being so supportive. Alison joined in, but beneath her laughter, she could 
feel a rush of anger at people who judged other people by their sexuality, 
and not their personality. *that's just as bad as racism, * she thought to 
herself.
               Over the next few weeks, Alison and Brett grew to become close friends and 
Alison began to realize that Brett was one of the best friends that she had. 
And even though she tried not to consciously think about it, she had to 
admit that gay men made the best friends.
*****