DISCLAIMER:
The Harry Potter Series was created by and belongs to the great J.K. Rowling. I created and therefore own only the original character Professor Darien Blaine. Give credit where credit is due, I always say. (
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I was inspired to finally write a Harry Potter fanfic after (at last!) reading the Order of the Phoenix (EXCELLENT piece of work, btw!). I'm new to the this fandom, so I'm not quite familiar with the tastes of the readers. But I assure you, I plan and work hard on my stories in order to give the best. I THRIVE on reviews! I'm open to corrections and constructive criticism though, but I cannot stand flames. So please. Just don't.
Anyway, here goes . . . hope you like! (
HAPPY READING!
* * *
WHO I AM
Chapter One - COMEBACKS
"Hogwarts Amateur Quidditch League." Ron Weasley read aloud from a brightly colored poster that hung on the notice board of the Gryffindor common room. "Improve your Quidditch game by mastering the basics and learning new tricks! Enjoy hours of playing and informal competition under the supervision and instruction of a professional player!"
The lanky redhead shook his head, his stare growing somewhat dazed as his mind formed visuals of what he had just recited. "That's bloody brilliant." he breathed, swiveling his head slightly to the two other people who were peering at the sign from over his shoulder. "Quidditch lessons! The school's been in need of something like this for ages! I wonder what took them so long to come up with that idea?"
Hermione Granger tossed her head, causing her long brown hair to swish smoothly across her shoulders. "They DID have an amateur Quidditch association in Hogwarts some decades ago." she told him simply, as though it were a bit of common knowledge rather than obscure trivia. "They were just forced to do away with it when an overly-eager instructor landed a group of students in St. Mungo's for multiple bone injuries. Caused big trouble between the school and the parents."
At this, Ron turned away from the announcement poster to face his friend. "Let me guess." he said with a wry smirk. "You read it in 'Hogwarts, a History'?"
Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, though in spite of herself she had to smile at the immaturity of this move. "Actually, for your information, it was from 'Quidditch Through the Ages'". she retorted.
Ron groaned and shook his head. "Honestly girl, one day you're going to read yourself to death!" he mumbled. "For once, can't you just pretend that you have a normal I.Q. like everyone else around here?" He cast an expectant sideway glance at his other friend, a tall boy with messy black hair and glasses, obviously waiting for back-up.
Harry Potter merely chucked and raised his hands palms up. "Hey, I'm not going to get involved in that age-old argument again!" he said firmly. Then, he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, focusing his green eyes back on the notice board. "Did you notice how suddenly there seem to be so many new organizations, clubs and extra-curricular activities sprouting up this year?"
Hermione shrugged. "I guess Dumbledore was serious about his promise to make this year more enjoyable to make up for what we had to suffer last term." she mused, referring to their terrible Fifth year experience under the despotic control of the sadistic Dolores Umbridge.
"A downright good chap, that Dumbledore!" Ron said cheerfully. "Now if there was ever more a Headmaster who really does care about the happiness of his students, it would definitely be him."
His excited gaze then drifted towards the sign up sheet that was posted next to the Quidditch League notice, where about a half dozen signatures were already marked. After a half minute of fruitless rummaging inside his book bag, he turned to Hermione.
"Mind if I borrow a quill?"
Hermione smiled. "Not at all." she responded nonchalantly. "But I don't think you can join Amateur Quidditch, Ron."
Ron raised his eyebrows. "And why is that?" he asked indignantly. "I won't be allowing it to interfere with my lessons and homework, if that's what you're so worried about. For gosh sakes Hermione, it would be nice if you stopped acting like my mother all the time. I get enough of that during the holidays!"
Hermione gave him a patient, patronizing smile and pointed a finger at the poster on the notice board. "Just take a look at the rest of the details." she said calmly.
Ron stared at the text he had failed to read at the bottom part of the announcement. "Open to Hogwarts students of all levels EXCEPT house players." he recited, then groaned in disappointment immediately after. "That's totally unfair!"
"No, it's sensible." Hermione said. "The good players will only overshadow the beginners, and that will defeat the League's purpose. Honestly, Ron. What do you need basic lessons for when you already play for Gryffindor? That's already professional level, in some sense."
"Well, extra Quidditch instruction never hurt anyone, right?" Ron answered defensively. "Free lessons from a pro! I'd get to learn a whole bunch of things that would help improve my game-and everyone knows I'm still in need of it."
"Well, you'll just have to settle for learning and practicing with the help of your teammates, then." Hermione said serenely, ignoring Ron's sulky scowl. "I'm sure Katie Bell will make a great coach. She's much more laid back than both Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson, anyway."
"Actually . . ." Harry spoke up, suddenly breaking back into the conversation. "There's been a change of plans. Katie's not going to be the Gryffindor captain this year." He paused and took a deep breath before going on. "I am."
"WHAT?!"
Harry cringed at the surprised cries of his two best friends. "Uh, yeah." he went on, rather uncomfortable under the shocked stares they were now throwing him. "She just informed me of her decision last night. She's chosen to pass on the captaincy to me, since she thinks she's not really cut out for the job, and because she's already got enough to think about and stress over. . . N.E.W.T.s and all that."
"Harry, that's fantastic!" Hermione exclaimed happily, throwing her arms around him and giving him a big hug. "Congratulations! You completely deserve it, and I'm sure you'll do a great job."
"What she said." Ron added with a smile, giving Harry a hearty thump on the back. "It'll be a relief to know the captain this year won't be such a tyrant, anyway."
Harry grinned back and nodded. "Thanks." he said gratefully.
Ron then sighed and cast a wistful look back at the Amateur Quidditch sign-up sheet. "What a waste." he muttered under his breath, as though speaking to himself. "A perfect opportunity for training and I can't even. . ."
His voice trailed off, and his face brightened as though an idea suddenly struck him. He turned to Hermione with a huge grin.
"Why don't YOU join, Mione?"
Hermione stared back at him as though he had just suggested she go kiss a troll. "What?! Me?!"
"Yeah, why not?" Ron said, his eyes sparkling. "Harry and I can't. You can. It would be a good experience for you. You're always asking us what we see in the game. Maybe taking lessons would finally give you clue and convince you of how brilliant it is!"
Hermione shook her head, looking absolutely flabbergasted at the idea. "M-me? P-play Quidditch?" she spluttered. "That's ridiculous! I can barely even fly a broomstick properly!"
"That's because you hardly ever get on one." Harry pointed out wisely. "Flying develops naturally with practice. I think you'll do great if you just exert more effort in learning. Besides, lord knows you've read enough books on Quidditch to know the rudiments of the game inside out, so no problems there."
"Reading about the sport is a completely different thing from actually playing it!" Hermione protested. "Anyway," she continued hastily, deciding to bring up a new argument seeing her current one was failing. "I've already got too much to take on for sixth year. Aside from the usual class load I still have my Ancient Runes, I'm moving on to Advanced Arithmancy, I'll be taking Magical Remedies and First Aid, and of course there's S.P.E.W. . . "
"We'll make you a deal." Harry interrupted. "You go and join the Amateur Quidditch League, and Ron and I will go back to helping you with your . . . er. . . .projects in S.P.E.W. Knitting new clothes and stuff. Whatever you need."
"We will?" Ron began, but shut his mouth when Harry glared at him pointedly. "Oh. Yeah. Sure!"
Hermione was totally silent for a long moment as she considered this tempting offer. At last, she sighed and shrugged her shoulders somewhat resignedly. "All right. Why not?" she mumbled.
"Wicked!" Ron said enthusiastically, as Hermione pulled out her quill and jotted down her name on the sign-up sheet. "You won't regret this. You're going to have so much fun and will end up loving Quidditch almost as much as Harry and I do!"
"I sure hope so." Hermione retorted, trying to give him a threatening glare in spite of the uncontrolled smile on her face. "Because if I end up in the hospital wing with a dozen shattered bones, I'll be blaming no one else but the two of you!"
"I don't think there's a need to worry about that." Harry assured her, as they finally began making their way out of the Gryffindor common room to proceed to their classes for that morning. "I'm sure the pro player Dumbledore's hired to coach the League is most qualified person he can find. He or she will be great, you'll see."
* * *
A pair of keen brown eyes gleamed as footsteps sounded along the relatively empty second floor corridor that fine morning at Hogwarts. Oliver Wood could not keep an excited smile from creeping across his handsome face as his gaze took in the sight of the school he had graduated from only three years ago. It was great to be back in this place he had always seen as his second home, though it was now under very different circumstances.
He had arrived just early that morning, and after going through a briefing session with Dumbledore regarding his duties and being shown to his new lodging quarters, he was now free to go around the school as he liked. His job was not to begin until two days from now, anyway. In the meantime, he was given the opportunity to catch up with old friends and re- familiarize himself with his former alma mater.
The first goal was not going to be achieved just yet anyway, since the empty corridors told him most of the students were still holed up in the classrooms attending to their respective lessons. He had already received a hearty welcome back greeting from Nearly-Headless Nick and the Fat Friar, a raspberry and a couple of rude faces from Peeves, and a grumpy scowl from Filch, but what Oliver really wanted to run into right then was the familiar face of one of his Gryffindor friends. Like Katie Bell maybe, or Harry Potter . . .
So lost in his thoughts was the former Quidditch captain that he did not even notice the presence of a person carrying an armful of books rounding the same corner he was about to turn. As a result, he collided straight on with something hard, and heard a scream of surprise that echoed his own as they both staggered back from the sudden impact. Oliver's remarkable reflexes kicked in quickly however, and his hands flew instinctively to the tower of books, keeping them from crashing to the ground.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" he apologized hastily, turning slightly red with embarrassment. "I wasn't looking where I was going! Here, let me help you with that . . . "
"No, it's all right, thank you." an equally harried female voice protested, slightly muffled behind the heavy stack of books. "I'm just glad you were able to grab a hold of them before they flew everywhere."
Oliver smiled, and took the upper half of the stack into his arms to allow himself a look at the mystery girl's face. "Now what kind of jerk would I be if just stood by and let a lady carry such a heavy load by herself?" he said lightly. "What are you doing with all this. . ."
The rest of the sentence faded from his lips as he finally laid eyes on her, though he didn't really know why. She certainly was very pretty, with her long silky brown hair, large cinnamon eyes, and sweet heart shaped face, but he had seen lots of other girls who were better looking. On the other hand, there just seemed to be something vaguely familiar about this one.
As he was trying to figure this out however, the girl surprised him by bursting him to a wide, rather stunning smile of surprise and recognition.
"Oliver Wood!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Oh my goodness, what are you doing here?!"
For a moment Oliver could only stare back her in embarrassment. This girl obviously knew him well enough to be happy to see him, while he didn't even have the faintest clue of who she was. "Uh . . ."
Luckily, the girl did not seem to notice or mind the fact that he could not recognize her. "It's me, Hermione Granger!" she prompted. "Remember? Harry's friend?"
The name instantly clicked in Oliver's mind, and drew back a memory of a rainy Quidditch match in his last year in Hogwarts when a witch-friend of Harry's charmed his glasses to make them water-repellant. But the girl he remembered from back then looked quite different from the one standing before him now. It was obvious that she had blossomed considerably since the last tine he had noticed her.
Nevertheless, Oliver threw her a sincerely bright grin. "Oh yeah, of course I remember!" he said enthusiastically. "So how are you doing, Hermione?"
"Just fine." Hermione replied, returning his smile. "And quite busy, as you can see."
Oliver chuckled and nodded. "Understandable. You and Harry are in sixth year now, right?"
"Yup." Hermione responded cheerfully, then looked up at him through eyes filled with curiosity. "What about you? What brings you back to Hogwarts?"
Oliver shrugged, his eyes twinkling mysteriously. "What, can't a former student just come back to visit his old school once in a while?" he teased.
Hermione grinned back and shook her head. "Not if they have a career as successful and hectic as yours." she responded, shifting the weight of the books in her arms. "Last I heard you've become quite a Quidditch legend in Puddlemere United. Youngest keeper to ever start for that team, or something like that."
"Really." Oliver said, crossing his arms over his chest in bemusement. "What else have you heard?"
"Not much." Hermione answered. "Or at least I don't really listen to the sports news the boys are always blabbering about. Quidditch doesn't really interest me. Sorry."
Oliver laughed. "Not at all. I appreciate your honesty. Not too many people would be brave enough to say that to my face." he joked.
"So let me get this straight." Hermione said, brushing her long hair away from her face in a manner that Oliver thought was really cute. "You're taking time off from all that excitement and athletic glory to come back to Hogwarts and visit?" She grinned. "Loyal as you may be to our school, I still find that hard to believe."
Oliver smiled and shook his head. "Guilty as charged." he admitted. "It's not as if I had a choice, though. I pretty much am nothing but dead weight to the team with my injury."
As he expected, surprise crossed Hermione's face when she heard this. She tilted her head to the side, giving him a careful one-over gaze. "Injury?" she repeated. "I don't see anything wrong with you. In fact, you're looking . . . great!"
Oliver's eyes twinkled. "Thanks for the compliment, but it's not quite true." He then pulled his wand out of his robes and lightly tapped the stack of books he was carrying. "Wingardium leviosa!"
As soon as the books were safely floating in the air and left his arm free for movement, he hiked up the sleeve of his turtleneck sweater.
"I got hit by a bludger at a big game against the Cannons last month." he explained, gesturing at the heavy bandage that was wrapped securely around his elbow. "Literally snapped my arm in two at the joint. It was pretty bad- I was lucky enough not to have lost my forearm altogether."
Hermione cringed. "That's terrible!" she agreed, shaking her head. "But weren't the healers able to do anything about it?'
Oliver nodded grimly. "Sure, they were able to get my arm back in one piece. But it's still going to need a whole lot of therapy and time off. Not all things can be magically fixed, I guess. At least, not completely."
"Gee, I'm sorry. That must really stink for you." Hermione said sympathetically. She then paused and looked apologetic. "That still doesn't quite explain what you're doing here, though . . . "
Oliver laughed. "Persistent, aren't we?" he said with a teasing wink. "Well, I'll make you a deal . . ."
He took back the floating books into his arms and grinned at her. "Let me walk you to your next class, and I'll tell you exactly why I'm here."
The girl seemed greatly taken aback by this rather forward invitation. For a moment she lowered her gaze to the ground, suddenly looking quite uncomfortable. "Uh . . . well . . ."
"Come on." Oliver wheedled "I don't think I'll be running into anyone else within the next hour anyway, and I would appreciate the company. You seem to be the only student who hasn't a class at the moment. "
"I WAS in class." Hermione said defensively. "Charms class. It's just that we're having a practical exam on disillusionment charms today, and Professor Flitwick gave me an exemption since I did really well during practice."
"Wow." Oliver said, looking sincerely impressed. "Disillusionment charms are very tricky. Up to now even I can't come up with one without breaking a huge sweat."
Hermione shrugged this comment off. "Yes, well, since I'm free for the next hour I just thought I'd go to the library and go through a few of the books I bought and borrowed for extra reading."
"Extra reading? A few?" Oliver snorted, eyeing the piles of books they both carried. "I doubt I touched this many books my entire seven years at Hogwarts!"
Hermione couldn't help but smile back. "Now that's an exaggeration."
Oliver grinned. "If you say so." He then threw her another imploring look. "Would you let me walk with you to the library then? It sure would beat wandering around these halls by myself getting glared at by Filch."
At last, Hermione shook her head and sighed. "All right." she consented, and smiled as Oliver beamed with gratitude and they began to continue down that corridor together.
"So what's the big secret?" the young witch asked again, giving the Quidditch player another curious gaze where he ambled along beside her. "What's brought you back to Hogwarts all of a sudden?"
Oliver shrugged casually, keeping his gaze steady in front of them as he spoke. "It's not a secret, really. Neither is it that big a mystery. I'm actually surprised you haven't figured it out yet. I mean, you have seen the posters Dumbledore's put up advertising the League, haven't you?"
"League?" Hermione echoed, staring at him blankly for a moment. Then, realization dawned on her face and she stopped abruptly in her tracks to gawk at him.
"YOU'RE the pro who's going to teach the Amateur Quidditch League?!"
* * *
Professor Albus Dumbledore stroked his long silver beard rather absent-mindedly as he stood by the gates of the castle, staring thoughtfully out into the darkness of Hogsmede Village as though waiting expectantly for someone to arrive. Beside him, Professor Minerva McGonagall studied the pocket watch in her hand and shook her head a moment later.
"He's late." the stern-faced witch muttered rather impatiently, casting a glance up the school headmaster's continually placid face. "It's nearly a half-hour past eleven."
Dumbledore smiled, causing his blue eyes to sparkle. "Patience, Minerva. He will be here shortly, don't you fret." he assured her calmly. "You really must understand that the past few weeks have not been very easy for him. He's got a lot more to worry about right now than arriving for his appointments exactly on the dot."
"Of course. I know that." McGonagall said quickly and almost guiltily. "I suppose I am just not used to him keeping his elders waiting. He always had such impeccable attendance when he was a student here ."
Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "Ah yes." he agreed wistfully. "Well, people do tend to change, my dear Professor, as has been proven in many past cases. Most especially in dark times such as these, when there seems to be no helping it."
"That poor lad." was all McGonagall could say. From the corner of his eye Dumbledore could see distress wrench her weathered face for a brief moment. "How much more suffering must be inflicted on him by those barbarians before he is finally left in peace?"
"The time for that will come soon enough." Dumbledore replied simply but wisely. "For now, it is fortunate enough that he has agreed to come and join us in Hogwarts. I am certain he shall be able to recover quite nicely in this environment, around young people who need him and will very likely look up to him. What he needs more than anything is a distraction, to take his mind off recent events before he even thinks of doing something rash."
"I certainly hope so . . ." McGonagall murmured, but before she could say more Dumbledore turned his gaze back the darkness beyond the gateway and let out an exclamation.
"Ah! At last . . ."
He raised his wand and pointed it at the heavy iron gates of Hogwarts Castle, and they immediately swung open. The two elderly teachers watched as a dark, hovering shape ended its gradual descent from the cloudy night sky until it landed back on solid ground almost noiselessly. The stranger then passed through the gates to come close to Dumbledore and McGonagall, his face still hidden and imperceptible in the unlit shadows.
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall." a deep, rather weary sounding voice spoke. "I'm very sorry I'm late."
"Not at all, my boy." Dumbledore assured him. "What matters is you have properly set your affairs in order, so that you can forget all about them in the meantime and just concentrate on getting settled into your new home here with us."
"Well, it took more work and time than I had anticipated Sir, but yes. I have finished tying up all the lose ends. There is nothing more really to worry about when it comes to those matters."
"Excellent!" Dumbledore said pleasantly. "You must be exhausted, then. Let us show you to your quarters now so you can get some rest. After all, you still have a class to attend to first thing tomorrow morning."
The headmaster then held up his wand, whose tip immediately lit up to emit a bright light that penetrated the evening's darkness and reveal the face of the newcomer. Dumbledore beamed as he gazed upon the familiar face of a young man in his early twenties. He clamped a gentle hand on the young wizard's shoulder to give it a hearty pat.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Darien." he greeted his former pupil warmly. "Or should I say, Professor Blaine?"
* * *
COMING UP . . . Chapter 2 - Defense
Pls. don't forget to review! Thanks for reading! See you again soon . . .
The Harry Potter Series was created by and belongs to the great J.K. Rowling. I created and therefore own only the original character Professor Darien Blaine. Give credit where credit is due, I always say. (
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I was inspired to finally write a Harry Potter fanfic after (at last!) reading the Order of the Phoenix (EXCELLENT piece of work, btw!). I'm new to the this fandom, so I'm not quite familiar with the tastes of the readers. But I assure you, I plan and work hard on my stories in order to give the best. I THRIVE on reviews! I'm open to corrections and constructive criticism though, but I cannot stand flames. So please. Just don't.
Anyway, here goes . . . hope you like! (
HAPPY READING!
* * *
WHO I AM
Chapter One - COMEBACKS
"Hogwarts Amateur Quidditch League." Ron Weasley read aloud from a brightly colored poster that hung on the notice board of the Gryffindor common room. "Improve your Quidditch game by mastering the basics and learning new tricks! Enjoy hours of playing and informal competition under the supervision and instruction of a professional player!"
The lanky redhead shook his head, his stare growing somewhat dazed as his mind formed visuals of what he had just recited. "That's bloody brilliant." he breathed, swiveling his head slightly to the two other people who were peering at the sign from over his shoulder. "Quidditch lessons! The school's been in need of something like this for ages! I wonder what took them so long to come up with that idea?"
Hermione Granger tossed her head, causing her long brown hair to swish smoothly across her shoulders. "They DID have an amateur Quidditch association in Hogwarts some decades ago." she told him simply, as though it were a bit of common knowledge rather than obscure trivia. "They were just forced to do away with it when an overly-eager instructor landed a group of students in St. Mungo's for multiple bone injuries. Caused big trouble between the school and the parents."
At this, Ron turned away from the announcement poster to face his friend. "Let me guess." he said with a wry smirk. "You read it in 'Hogwarts, a History'?"
Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, though in spite of herself she had to smile at the immaturity of this move. "Actually, for your information, it was from 'Quidditch Through the Ages'". she retorted.
Ron groaned and shook his head. "Honestly girl, one day you're going to read yourself to death!" he mumbled. "For once, can't you just pretend that you have a normal I.Q. like everyone else around here?" He cast an expectant sideway glance at his other friend, a tall boy with messy black hair and glasses, obviously waiting for back-up.
Harry Potter merely chucked and raised his hands palms up. "Hey, I'm not going to get involved in that age-old argument again!" he said firmly. Then, he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, focusing his green eyes back on the notice board. "Did you notice how suddenly there seem to be so many new organizations, clubs and extra-curricular activities sprouting up this year?"
Hermione shrugged. "I guess Dumbledore was serious about his promise to make this year more enjoyable to make up for what we had to suffer last term." she mused, referring to their terrible Fifth year experience under the despotic control of the sadistic Dolores Umbridge.
"A downright good chap, that Dumbledore!" Ron said cheerfully. "Now if there was ever more a Headmaster who really does care about the happiness of his students, it would definitely be him."
His excited gaze then drifted towards the sign up sheet that was posted next to the Quidditch League notice, where about a half dozen signatures were already marked. After a half minute of fruitless rummaging inside his book bag, he turned to Hermione.
"Mind if I borrow a quill?"
Hermione smiled. "Not at all." she responded nonchalantly. "But I don't think you can join Amateur Quidditch, Ron."
Ron raised his eyebrows. "And why is that?" he asked indignantly. "I won't be allowing it to interfere with my lessons and homework, if that's what you're so worried about. For gosh sakes Hermione, it would be nice if you stopped acting like my mother all the time. I get enough of that during the holidays!"
Hermione gave him a patient, patronizing smile and pointed a finger at the poster on the notice board. "Just take a look at the rest of the details." she said calmly.
Ron stared at the text he had failed to read at the bottom part of the announcement. "Open to Hogwarts students of all levels EXCEPT house players." he recited, then groaned in disappointment immediately after. "That's totally unfair!"
"No, it's sensible." Hermione said. "The good players will only overshadow the beginners, and that will defeat the League's purpose. Honestly, Ron. What do you need basic lessons for when you already play for Gryffindor? That's already professional level, in some sense."
"Well, extra Quidditch instruction never hurt anyone, right?" Ron answered defensively. "Free lessons from a pro! I'd get to learn a whole bunch of things that would help improve my game-and everyone knows I'm still in need of it."
"Well, you'll just have to settle for learning and practicing with the help of your teammates, then." Hermione said serenely, ignoring Ron's sulky scowl. "I'm sure Katie Bell will make a great coach. She's much more laid back than both Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson, anyway."
"Actually . . ." Harry spoke up, suddenly breaking back into the conversation. "There's been a change of plans. Katie's not going to be the Gryffindor captain this year." He paused and took a deep breath before going on. "I am."
"WHAT?!"
Harry cringed at the surprised cries of his two best friends. "Uh, yeah." he went on, rather uncomfortable under the shocked stares they were now throwing him. "She just informed me of her decision last night. She's chosen to pass on the captaincy to me, since she thinks she's not really cut out for the job, and because she's already got enough to think about and stress over. . . N.E.W.T.s and all that."
"Harry, that's fantastic!" Hermione exclaimed happily, throwing her arms around him and giving him a big hug. "Congratulations! You completely deserve it, and I'm sure you'll do a great job."
"What she said." Ron added with a smile, giving Harry a hearty thump on the back. "It'll be a relief to know the captain this year won't be such a tyrant, anyway."
Harry grinned back and nodded. "Thanks." he said gratefully.
Ron then sighed and cast a wistful look back at the Amateur Quidditch sign-up sheet. "What a waste." he muttered under his breath, as though speaking to himself. "A perfect opportunity for training and I can't even. . ."
His voice trailed off, and his face brightened as though an idea suddenly struck him. He turned to Hermione with a huge grin.
"Why don't YOU join, Mione?"
Hermione stared back at him as though he had just suggested she go kiss a troll. "What?! Me?!"
"Yeah, why not?" Ron said, his eyes sparkling. "Harry and I can't. You can. It would be a good experience for you. You're always asking us what we see in the game. Maybe taking lessons would finally give you clue and convince you of how brilliant it is!"
Hermione shook her head, looking absolutely flabbergasted at the idea. "M-me? P-play Quidditch?" she spluttered. "That's ridiculous! I can barely even fly a broomstick properly!"
"That's because you hardly ever get on one." Harry pointed out wisely. "Flying develops naturally with practice. I think you'll do great if you just exert more effort in learning. Besides, lord knows you've read enough books on Quidditch to know the rudiments of the game inside out, so no problems there."
"Reading about the sport is a completely different thing from actually playing it!" Hermione protested. "Anyway," she continued hastily, deciding to bring up a new argument seeing her current one was failing. "I've already got too much to take on for sixth year. Aside from the usual class load I still have my Ancient Runes, I'm moving on to Advanced Arithmancy, I'll be taking Magical Remedies and First Aid, and of course there's S.P.E.W. . . "
"We'll make you a deal." Harry interrupted. "You go and join the Amateur Quidditch League, and Ron and I will go back to helping you with your . . . er. . . .projects in S.P.E.W. Knitting new clothes and stuff. Whatever you need."
"We will?" Ron began, but shut his mouth when Harry glared at him pointedly. "Oh. Yeah. Sure!"
Hermione was totally silent for a long moment as she considered this tempting offer. At last, she sighed and shrugged her shoulders somewhat resignedly. "All right. Why not?" she mumbled.
"Wicked!" Ron said enthusiastically, as Hermione pulled out her quill and jotted down her name on the sign-up sheet. "You won't regret this. You're going to have so much fun and will end up loving Quidditch almost as much as Harry and I do!"
"I sure hope so." Hermione retorted, trying to give him a threatening glare in spite of the uncontrolled smile on her face. "Because if I end up in the hospital wing with a dozen shattered bones, I'll be blaming no one else but the two of you!"
"I don't think there's a need to worry about that." Harry assured her, as they finally began making their way out of the Gryffindor common room to proceed to their classes for that morning. "I'm sure the pro player Dumbledore's hired to coach the League is most qualified person he can find. He or she will be great, you'll see."
* * *
A pair of keen brown eyes gleamed as footsteps sounded along the relatively empty second floor corridor that fine morning at Hogwarts. Oliver Wood could not keep an excited smile from creeping across his handsome face as his gaze took in the sight of the school he had graduated from only three years ago. It was great to be back in this place he had always seen as his second home, though it was now under very different circumstances.
He had arrived just early that morning, and after going through a briefing session with Dumbledore regarding his duties and being shown to his new lodging quarters, he was now free to go around the school as he liked. His job was not to begin until two days from now, anyway. In the meantime, he was given the opportunity to catch up with old friends and re- familiarize himself with his former alma mater.
The first goal was not going to be achieved just yet anyway, since the empty corridors told him most of the students were still holed up in the classrooms attending to their respective lessons. He had already received a hearty welcome back greeting from Nearly-Headless Nick and the Fat Friar, a raspberry and a couple of rude faces from Peeves, and a grumpy scowl from Filch, but what Oliver really wanted to run into right then was the familiar face of one of his Gryffindor friends. Like Katie Bell maybe, or Harry Potter . . .
So lost in his thoughts was the former Quidditch captain that he did not even notice the presence of a person carrying an armful of books rounding the same corner he was about to turn. As a result, he collided straight on with something hard, and heard a scream of surprise that echoed his own as they both staggered back from the sudden impact. Oliver's remarkable reflexes kicked in quickly however, and his hands flew instinctively to the tower of books, keeping them from crashing to the ground.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" he apologized hastily, turning slightly red with embarrassment. "I wasn't looking where I was going! Here, let me help you with that . . . "
"No, it's all right, thank you." an equally harried female voice protested, slightly muffled behind the heavy stack of books. "I'm just glad you were able to grab a hold of them before they flew everywhere."
Oliver smiled, and took the upper half of the stack into his arms to allow himself a look at the mystery girl's face. "Now what kind of jerk would I be if just stood by and let a lady carry such a heavy load by herself?" he said lightly. "What are you doing with all this. . ."
The rest of the sentence faded from his lips as he finally laid eyes on her, though he didn't really know why. She certainly was very pretty, with her long silky brown hair, large cinnamon eyes, and sweet heart shaped face, but he had seen lots of other girls who were better looking. On the other hand, there just seemed to be something vaguely familiar about this one.
As he was trying to figure this out however, the girl surprised him by bursting him to a wide, rather stunning smile of surprise and recognition.
"Oliver Wood!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Oh my goodness, what are you doing here?!"
For a moment Oliver could only stare back her in embarrassment. This girl obviously knew him well enough to be happy to see him, while he didn't even have the faintest clue of who she was. "Uh . . ."
Luckily, the girl did not seem to notice or mind the fact that he could not recognize her. "It's me, Hermione Granger!" she prompted. "Remember? Harry's friend?"
The name instantly clicked in Oliver's mind, and drew back a memory of a rainy Quidditch match in his last year in Hogwarts when a witch-friend of Harry's charmed his glasses to make them water-repellant. But the girl he remembered from back then looked quite different from the one standing before him now. It was obvious that she had blossomed considerably since the last tine he had noticed her.
Nevertheless, Oliver threw her a sincerely bright grin. "Oh yeah, of course I remember!" he said enthusiastically. "So how are you doing, Hermione?"
"Just fine." Hermione replied, returning his smile. "And quite busy, as you can see."
Oliver chuckled and nodded. "Understandable. You and Harry are in sixth year now, right?"
"Yup." Hermione responded cheerfully, then looked up at him through eyes filled with curiosity. "What about you? What brings you back to Hogwarts?"
Oliver shrugged, his eyes twinkling mysteriously. "What, can't a former student just come back to visit his old school once in a while?" he teased.
Hermione grinned back and shook her head. "Not if they have a career as successful and hectic as yours." she responded, shifting the weight of the books in her arms. "Last I heard you've become quite a Quidditch legend in Puddlemere United. Youngest keeper to ever start for that team, or something like that."
"Really." Oliver said, crossing his arms over his chest in bemusement. "What else have you heard?"
"Not much." Hermione answered. "Or at least I don't really listen to the sports news the boys are always blabbering about. Quidditch doesn't really interest me. Sorry."
Oliver laughed. "Not at all. I appreciate your honesty. Not too many people would be brave enough to say that to my face." he joked.
"So let me get this straight." Hermione said, brushing her long hair away from her face in a manner that Oliver thought was really cute. "You're taking time off from all that excitement and athletic glory to come back to Hogwarts and visit?" She grinned. "Loyal as you may be to our school, I still find that hard to believe."
Oliver smiled and shook his head. "Guilty as charged." he admitted. "It's not as if I had a choice, though. I pretty much am nothing but dead weight to the team with my injury."
As he expected, surprise crossed Hermione's face when she heard this. She tilted her head to the side, giving him a careful one-over gaze. "Injury?" she repeated. "I don't see anything wrong with you. In fact, you're looking . . . great!"
Oliver's eyes twinkled. "Thanks for the compliment, but it's not quite true." He then pulled his wand out of his robes and lightly tapped the stack of books he was carrying. "Wingardium leviosa!"
As soon as the books were safely floating in the air and left his arm free for movement, he hiked up the sleeve of his turtleneck sweater.
"I got hit by a bludger at a big game against the Cannons last month." he explained, gesturing at the heavy bandage that was wrapped securely around his elbow. "Literally snapped my arm in two at the joint. It was pretty bad- I was lucky enough not to have lost my forearm altogether."
Hermione cringed. "That's terrible!" she agreed, shaking her head. "But weren't the healers able to do anything about it?'
Oliver nodded grimly. "Sure, they were able to get my arm back in one piece. But it's still going to need a whole lot of therapy and time off. Not all things can be magically fixed, I guess. At least, not completely."
"Gee, I'm sorry. That must really stink for you." Hermione said sympathetically. She then paused and looked apologetic. "That still doesn't quite explain what you're doing here, though . . . "
Oliver laughed. "Persistent, aren't we?" he said with a teasing wink. "Well, I'll make you a deal . . ."
He took back the floating books into his arms and grinned at her. "Let me walk you to your next class, and I'll tell you exactly why I'm here."
The girl seemed greatly taken aback by this rather forward invitation. For a moment she lowered her gaze to the ground, suddenly looking quite uncomfortable. "Uh . . . well . . ."
"Come on." Oliver wheedled "I don't think I'll be running into anyone else within the next hour anyway, and I would appreciate the company. You seem to be the only student who hasn't a class at the moment. "
"I WAS in class." Hermione said defensively. "Charms class. It's just that we're having a practical exam on disillusionment charms today, and Professor Flitwick gave me an exemption since I did really well during practice."
"Wow." Oliver said, looking sincerely impressed. "Disillusionment charms are very tricky. Up to now even I can't come up with one without breaking a huge sweat."
Hermione shrugged this comment off. "Yes, well, since I'm free for the next hour I just thought I'd go to the library and go through a few of the books I bought and borrowed for extra reading."
"Extra reading? A few?" Oliver snorted, eyeing the piles of books they both carried. "I doubt I touched this many books my entire seven years at Hogwarts!"
Hermione couldn't help but smile back. "Now that's an exaggeration."
Oliver grinned. "If you say so." He then threw her another imploring look. "Would you let me walk with you to the library then? It sure would beat wandering around these halls by myself getting glared at by Filch."
At last, Hermione shook her head and sighed. "All right." she consented, and smiled as Oliver beamed with gratitude and they began to continue down that corridor together.
"So what's the big secret?" the young witch asked again, giving the Quidditch player another curious gaze where he ambled along beside her. "What's brought you back to Hogwarts all of a sudden?"
Oliver shrugged casually, keeping his gaze steady in front of them as he spoke. "It's not a secret, really. Neither is it that big a mystery. I'm actually surprised you haven't figured it out yet. I mean, you have seen the posters Dumbledore's put up advertising the League, haven't you?"
"League?" Hermione echoed, staring at him blankly for a moment. Then, realization dawned on her face and she stopped abruptly in her tracks to gawk at him.
"YOU'RE the pro who's going to teach the Amateur Quidditch League?!"
* * *
Professor Albus Dumbledore stroked his long silver beard rather absent-mindedly as he stood by the gates of the castle, staring thoughtfully out into the darkness of Hogsmede Village as though waiting expectantly for someone to arrive. Beside him, Professor Minerva McGonagall studied the pocket watch in her hand and shook her head a moment later.
"He's late." the stern-faced witch muttered rather impatiently, casting a glance up the school headmaster's continually placid face. "It's nearly a half-hour past eleven."
Dumbledore smiled, causing his blue eyes to sparkle. "Patience, Minerva. He will be here shortly, don't you fret." he assured her calmly. "You really must understand that the past few weeks have not been very easy for him. He's got a lot more to worry about right now than arriving for his appointments exactly on the dot."
"Of course. I know that." McGonagall said quickly and almost guiltily. "I suppose I am just not used to him keeping his elders waiting. He always had such impeccable attendance when he was a student here ."
Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "Ah yes." he agreed wistfully. "Well, people do tend to change, my dear Professor, as has been proven in many past cases. Most especially in dark times such as these, when there seems to be no helping it."
"That poor lad." was all McGonagall could say. From the corner of his eye Dumbledore could see distress wrench her weathered face for a brief moment. "How much more suffering must be inflicted on him by those barbarians before he is finally left in peace?"
"The time for that will come soon enough." Dumbledore replied simply but wisely. "For now, it is fortunate enough that he has agreed to come and join us in Hogwarts. I am certain he shall be able to recover quite nicely in this environment, around young people who need him and will very likely look up to him. What he needs more than anything is a distraction, to take his mind off recent events before he even thinks of doing something rash."
"I certainly hope so . . ." McGonagall murmured, but before she could say more Dumbledore turned his gaze back the darkness beyond the gateway and let out an exclamation.
"Ah! At last . . ."
He raised his wand and pointed it at the heavy iron gates of Hogwarts Castle, and they immediately swung open. The two elderly teachers watched as a dark, hovering shape ended its gradual descent from the cloudy night sky until it landed back on solid ground almost noiselessly. The stranger then passed through the gates to come close to Dumbledore and McGonagall, his face still hidden and imperceptible in the unlit shadows.
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall." a deep, rather weary sounding voice spoke. "I'm very sorry I'm late."
"Not at all, my boy." Dumbledore assured him. "What matters is you have properly set your affairs in order, so that you can forget all about them in the meantime and just concentrate on getting settled into your new home here with us."
"Well, it took more work and time than I had anticipated Sir, but yes. I have finished tying up all the lose ends. There is nothing more really to worry about when it comes to those matters."
"Excellent!" Dumbledore said pleasantly. "You must be exhausted, then. Let us show you to your quarters now so you can get some rest. After all, you still have a class to attend to first thing tomorrow morning."
The headmaster then held up his wand, whose tip immediately lit up to emit a bright light that penetrated the evening's darkness and reveal the face of the newcomer. Dumbledore beamed as he gazed upon the familiar face of a young man in his early twenties. He clamped a gentle hand on the young wizard's shoulder to give it a hearty pat.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Darien." he greeted his former pupil warmly. "Or should I say, Professor Blaine?"
* * *
COMING UP . . . Chapter 2 - Defense
Pls. don't forget to review! Thanks for reading! See you again soon . . .