Yeah, yeah, I know. It's too damn short. But what am I to do? This is all I could fit into a single chapter. I'll try and write longer chapters, but I'm not promising anything. Thanks to all my reviewers - you are the ones that keep me writing. A special thanks to my new beta, Isabella Jinx, for helping me fix this thing. I know I don't take most of your advice, but its good to debate it. And it'll sink in… maybe in the future chapters.
Anyway, here it is. Another one coming soon.
Chapter 3: Oliver
Oliver Wood was flustered. He had just had, or at least tried to have, a conversation with Harry Potter, his former house member from Gryffindor. Harry had been very unresponsive, his answers evasive and stupid, his eyes wide open and his face red all through the conversation. He hadn't been able to form sentences correctly, and when Wood asked what was wrong, Harry had quickly fled, claiming a forgotten book in the dorm as an excuse.
A frown settled over Oliver's troubled face as he walked back to his private rooms. They were located in a discreet place on the ground floor. As he entered his sleeping chambers, he was greeted by the large posters of his favorite Quidditch teams, and the pictures he had plastered on the walls. He walked over to one of them and saw himself, along with the rest of the team laughing and cheering after a Gryffindor victory over Slytherin. Harry looked perfectly well in the picture, his eyes shining brightly and his hair ruffled.
Wood sat down on the bed and took an album out of his bedside drawer. He flipped through the pictures, seeing the people in the pictures wave and cheer. At last he found the picture he was looking for. He was hugging Harry, and the two of them were laughing madly after Harry had made a spectacular catch of the snitch. He could see himself and Harry dancing and laughing in the picture. Harry eyes shone with happiness, his face drenched with sweat, his broad shoulders and chest heaving with the excitement as he danced a little victory dance. He had a good figure, Oliver thought, and a nice ass…
Oliver caught himself, and shut the album quickly. He shook his head, snorting slightly. 'Checking a student out, really!' he admonished himself. 'It isn't proper at all. Besides, Harry isn't gay, right?' Oliver paused a minute. 'Well, he might be. And he's not bad looking. And he's nice, not to mention and a damn fine Quidditch player. Not a bad catch.' Oliver walked towards his shower, getting prepared to shower and get to bad.
'Too bad he's underage and a student!' a little voice in his mind shouted at him, as he got ready to shower. As he stepped into the water stream he found himself dismissing any chance of a relationship with the dark-haired boy. 'He's still in school,' he told himself. 'Still,' came the afterthought, 'there's nothing wrong in daydreaming.'
Oliver Wood grinned and reached for the soap.
*************
Hermione sat close to Harry that morning in the feast, waiting to see his reaction to the first step of her plan. She ate sparingly and talked about nothing important. Just as she was discussing the quality of today's pancakes over with Ron, a great deal of noise erupted into the Great Hall, as owls poured in by the dozens.
Hermione felt herself tense as a large school owl swept over to Harry's table. Harry looked surprised to see it, and stopped his meal to take the note from the owl's leg. He read the note a few times and then looked up to them, a slightly panicked look in his eyes. 'Oliver Wood wants to meet me after Quidditch practice today,' he said frantically, 'what am I going to do?'
'Don't get your knickers in a knot,' Ron replied, 'its just Oliver.'
'Just - Oliver,' Harry murmured incredulously.
'Yes Harry, just Oliver,' Hermione jumped in urgently. 'No need to get a panic attack over it. Right?'
Harry saw the urgent look Hermione was giving him and caught himself before he revealed to everyone seated on the table that he had a crush over the handsome, tall, Flying Teacher. 'Yeah, right,' he mumbled, 'just Oliver.' Chills swept through him as he thought of the two of them meeting after practice, all alone outside on the Quidditch field. He imagined himself after practice, tired and sweaty, and a handsome Oliver smiling at him.
Hermione looked at her dazed friend and smiled to herself. As she turned back to talking to Ron, a little voice inside her head said: 'First step – accomplished!'
