A/N: Thanks so much for reviews!! They make me smile =)
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"Right, is everyone present and correct? Excellent. Then I shall begin," Oliver Wood stood up straighter; the wild spark in his eye grew as he surveyed his carefully planned board of stationary lines. The aforementioned wildness in his eyes only occurred when he was about to go into depth on Quidditch strategies and plans. He tapped the board with his wand and at once the lines came to life and wriggled their way around the board like red and yellow worms.
Oliver studied the diagram carefully, tapping his chin with his finger. Something was wrong. Aha! He flicked his wand expertly and sent a yellow line curving in the other direction. With a nod, he was satisfied that his board was perfect. He set about explaining it to his team.
"Angelina, this is your line of defence," Oliver pointed to a red line swooshing across the board to where the Slytherin hoops were drawn, "If a Slytherin Chaser gets in your way I have located Alicia and Katie to either side of you for an easy pass."
Oliver looked up when he received no answer. Angelina, Alicia and Katie were sitting with their backs to each other, arms crossed and expressions sulky.
"For the love of Merlin, what on Earth is the problem women?! I am explaining very crucial plays here," Oliver said impatiently.
"Ask Angelina and Alicia, THEY are the ones with the problem," said Katie.
This invoked two gasps of fury and shouts of protest.
Oliver watched, shocked, as all three Chasers stood up and started shouting threats at each other.
Fred and George sat quietly, studying their hands, feeling ever so slightly guilty it was their fault that the Chasers were arguing. Harry just looked bored.
"SILENCE!" Boomed Oliver. All three girls stopped mid-yelling and looked at the Quidditch Captain.
"Would somebody mind telling me what is going on?" Oliver asked, his Scottish accent hinted an undertone of irritation.
"It's nothing, Oliver, really," George spoke up before the girls could start blaming each other again, "Why don't we just go and play out the new moves on the pitch?"
"Right," Oliver agreed immediately, twitching with anticipation and grabbing his broom. If there was one thing he loved more than explaining complicated Quidditch manoeuvres it was carrying them out up in the air.
"Onward, men!" he led the way out onto the pitch.
"And women!" cried Angelina, Alicia and Katie indignantly, before glaring at each other again and looking away.
"And women," sighed Oliver, then muttered, "bloody complicated species."
Soon, everyone had positioned themselves up on the pitch in the air. Everyone except Harry. He had spotted Draco coming towards him, with Crabbe and Goyle.
Oliver also spotted Draco, a dangerously dark look crossed his handsome features and he swooped down to the ground angrily.
"Potter! What are you doing with HIM?!" Oliver yelled furiously, "associating with the rival Seeker . . .why, it's . . .it's blasphemy!!"
Harry yawned, bored. "I'd watch the way you talk to me, Wood. You wouldn't want to lose your star Seeker now, would you?"
Oliver's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets with shock and rage. "What is wrong with you today, Potter? I want those Slytherins off the pitch NOW - I am not tolerating spies lurking around." He looked suspiciously at the smirking Slytherins.
"They'll go. But only when I've finished speaking to Malfoy," Harry crossed his arms, looking Oliver right in the eye.
Oliver, too stunned and angry to say anything he would regret later, kicked furiously at the ground with his heel and swooped back up into the air.
Fred and George flew across to him. "What happened?" Fred asked, looking nervously at Oliver's livid expression.
"Grrrrrrrrrr," was all Oliver could manage, his teeth clenched tightly.
"Oh dear," George stated, translating Oliver's response as not good. He exchanged looks with Fred and mouthed, "We've got to find the counter- curse." Fred nodded in reply, still looking at Oliver anxiously.
The sixth-year looked as though he was going to snap his broom in two. He suddenly exploded. "I'm not having this! The game with Slytherin is only a WEEK away! One bloody week!! How are we going to win if our Seeker is in league with their Seeker and all our Chasers have started a war with each other?!" He held his head in his hands and wailed, "once again - the Cup is going to be snatched cruelly out of my reach!"
Fred and George couldn't help but feel sorry for poor Wood. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup for seven (A/N: I'm not entirely sure this is right!) years running and Oliver had desperately wanted to be the one to break the unlucky streak and lead his team to victory.
Feeling very guilty, the twins watched helplessly, as their team Chasers refused to pass the Quaffle to each other while their Captain tried to hang himself from the Quidditch hoops.
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"Right, is everyone present and correct? Excellent. Then I shall begin," Oliver Wood stood up straighter; the wild spark in his eye grew as he surveyed his carefully planned board of stationary lines. The aforementioned wildness in his eyes only occurred when he was about to go into depth on Quidditch strategies and plans. He tapped the board with his wand and at once the lines came to life and wriggled their way around the board like red and yellow worms.
Oliver studied the diagram carefully, tapping his chin with his finger. Something was wrong. Aha! He flicked his wand expertly and sent a yellow line curving in the other direction. With a nod, he was satisfied that his board was perfect. He set about explaining it to his team.
"Angelina, this is your line of defence," Oliver pointed to a red line swooshing across the board to where the Slytherin hoops were drawn, "If a Slytherin Chaser gets in your way I have located Alicia and Katie to either side of you for an easy pass."
Oliver looked up when he received no answer. Angelina, Alicia and Katie were sitting with their backs to each other, arms crossed and expressions sulky.
"For the love of Merlin, what on Earth is the problem women?! I am explaining very crucial plays here," Oliver said impatiently.
"Ask Angelina and Alicia, THEY are the ones with the problem," said Katie.
This invoked two gasps of fury and shouts of protest.
Oliver watched, shocked, as all three Chasers stood up and started shouting threats at each other.
Fred and George sat quietly, studying their hands, feeling ever so slightly guilty it was their fault that the Chasers were arguing. Harry just looked bored.
"SILENCE!" Boomed Oliver. All three girls stopped mid-yelling and looked at the Quidditch Captain.
"Would somebody mind telling me what is going on?" Oliver asked, his Scottish accent hinted an undertone of irritation.
"It's nothing, Oliver, really," George spoke up before the girls could start blaming each other again, "Why don't we just go and play out the new moves on the pitch?"
"Right," Oliver agreed immediately, twitching with anticipation and grabbing his broom. If there was one thing he loved more than explaining complicated Quidditch manoeuvres it was carrying them out up in the air.
"Onward, men!" he led the way out onto the pitch.
"And women!" cried Angelina, Alicia and Katie indignantly, before glaring at each other again and looking away.
"And women," sighed Oliver, then muttered, "bloody complicated species."
Soon, everyone had positioned themselves up on the pitch in the air. Everyone except Harry. He had spotted Draco coming towards him, with Crabbe and Goyle.
Oliver also spotted Draco, a dangerously dark look crossed his handsome features and he swooped down to the ground angrily.
"Potter! What are you doing with HIM?!" Oliver yelled furiously, "associating with the rival Seeker . . .why, it's . . .it's blasphemy!!"
Harry yawned, bored. "I'd watch the way you talk to me, Wood. You wouldn't want to lose your star Seeker now, would you?"
Oliver's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets with shock and rage. "What is wrong with you today, Potter? I want those Slytherins off the pitch NOW - I am not tolerating spies lurking around." He looked suspiciously at the smirking Slytherins.
"They'll go. But only when I've finished speaking to Malfoy," Harry crossed his arms, looking Oliver right in the eye.
Oliver, too stunned and angry to say anything he would regret later, kicked furiously at the ground with his heel and swooped back up into the air.
Fred and George flew across to him. "What happened?" Fred asked, looking nervously at Oliver's livid expression.
"Grrrrrrrrrr," was all Oliver could manage, his teeth clenched tightly.
"Oh dear," George stated, translating Oliver's response as not good. He exchanged looks with Fred and mouthed, "We've got to find the counter- curse." Fred nodded in reply, still looking at Oliver anxiously.
The sixth-year looked as though he was going to snap his broom in two. He suddenly exploded. "I'm not having this! The game with Slytherin is only a WEEK away! One bloody week!! How are we going to win if our Seeker is in league with their Seeker and all our Chasers have started a war with each other?!" He held his head in his hands and wailed, "once again - the Cup is going to be snatched cruelly out of my reach!"
Fred and George couldn't help but feel sorry for poor Wood. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup for seven (A/N: I'm not entirely sure this is right!) years running and Oliver had desperately wanted to be the one to break the unlucky streak and lead his team to victory.
Feeling very guilty, the twins watched helplessly, as their team Chasers refused to pass the Quaffle to each other while their Captain tried to hang himself from the Quidditch hoops.
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