Chapter 4: The Most Unoriginal Chapter Title Ever
Disclaimer: I don't own.
A/n: My comps been ditzy, sorry for the long wait.
"What's this?" I asked, taking the foot long piece of parchment tentatively. Fred and Geeorge stared solemnly ahead.
"This is a contract, binding you to your word," George explained.
I skimmed over the contents, scribed in large, calligraphy font:
I, The undersigned Oliver Wood, do hereby give my word in a solemn oath, that I will not mention, write, or repeat any knowledge dealing with or of quidditch.
X___________________
"What am I suppose to do with this?" I asked dumbly.
"You sign it, you nim- rod," Fred ordered.
"I can't sign this! I shouldn't need a contract to-"
"Wood, Wood, Wood. You may not believe that this is necessary, but Fred and I have decided that this is the only way to keep you under control. Now sign it!"
"Woah, woah, woah. I can't sign this, that's like signing away my soul!"
"Technically, it is signing away your soul-" George elbowed Fred sharply in the ribs. "Don't worry, Wood. It won't keep you from your precious quidditch. Its bewitched so that if you do break the contract, and we do know that this will happen, it will remind you of your word in a simple, painless way. You see, its more of a psychological thing."
"Yeah, a reinforcement," George agreed.
Skeptically, I looked over the parchment once more.
"Look, think about it this way. Do you want to get your girl Katie or not?"
"This has nothing to do with Katie," I lied, mentally kicking myself.
"Fred, remind me that the first thing that we teach him is how to lie," George muttered to his brother.
Glaring at the two of them, I picked up a nearby quill and signed away. The paper gave a satisfied buzz, and rolled itself up.
"I know that I'm going to regret this," I groaned.
"You probably will. See ya later!" And they were off without a word, carrying the paper with them. I have never seen them travel so fast. I sat on my bed, staring at a clock on the wall.
My broom was in my chest (LOCKBOX!) at the foot of the bed. All I had to do was reach for it, go for a couple of rounds on the field, and everything would be alright. I would be able to forget.
But then, now I couldn't even ride a broom. And this made me very nervous, very nervous indeed.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.
I reached for the book on my nightstand table. 'Everything You've ever wanted to know about quidditch.' Abandoning the thought, I left the book alone.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.
Maybe I could get some homework done. I hadn't even looked at the essay Professor Binns gave us in history class. I grabbed some parchment and the same quill I used to sign the contract. From my bag, I revealed another piece of parchment that had the instructions. Two scrolls of parchment, at least 3,000 words, Subject: Reah Tompson.
Reah Tompson, where had I heard that name before. Oh yes, wasn't she the first female to ever play quidditch professionally...
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.
"I can't take it anymore!" I shouted to the empty room. Oh, the irony. Only something like this would happen to me. "So this is how you end up, Oliver wood? A hopeless, overly obsessed fanatic who will never even get the chance to play professionally- and now can't even think about qui- that game- for who knows how long? Argh!"
"Talk to yourself much?"
"Katie!" How did she do that? It was as if every embarrassing moment in my life, she had to be present for. God knows what could happen next. "Wha- er what are you doing in the boys dormitories?"
"Actually McGonigall sent me to come fetch you. She said it was urgent."
"But why didn't she just send a- a boy?"
"Because I was in her office already. Why? Do you have a problem with me, Oliver Wood?" She pointedly asked.
"No, but- but these are the boys dormitories!"
"I know that. Look, I think that we're both mature enough to handle a girl in the boys' dormitories. Or at least, I thought we were both mature enough. Honestly, you'd think that you of all people would have a problem having me here, just one quidditch mate to another," she added, a frown settling on her face when she spoke the word quidditch.
"I've had girls in here before, that's not the problem-" Oh god, that was the wrong thing to say. The very wrong thing to say.
"Hm, well, you better get yourself over to McGonigall. No sense in wasting your time here with me," she said.
"Katie, I didn't mean that- what I said. What I meant was that Alicia and Angelina and them have all been up here before, don't go-"
"I know what you meant Oliver," she turned to leave.
"That's not it, I swear-"
"Oliver, don't start. I know that the only thing that matters to you, is you and your precious quidditch game. It doesn't come as a surprise that you would put it before friendship."
Helpless, I let my shoulders sag. "I don't know how to explain it to you, you're more than just a teamate, your my friend." Overlook the fact that I wished she were more than a friend...
"Then prove it. Tell me that I'm more than just a quidditch mate." She placed her hands on her hips, and gave me, a look. ~_~.
"I just did!"
"Say it." She obviously had a point to get across.
"Fine. You're more than just qui-" Wait. Hang on. I can't say quidditch. Truth be told, I didn't know what would happen to me yet. Anything could happen, or nothing. What if I turned inside out or some other awful, horrible, indescribable and unexplainable thing happened? What would Katie think?
"That's what I thought." She turned on her heel and left the room, her blond pony- tail bobbing behind her.
I'm going to kill them. I'm going to kill Fred and George. But first, I'm going to find McGonigall because Katie told me to. Warily I walked out of the room, hoping that I wouldn't walk into Katie. Stay away from the danger zone.
I brushed past students of all shapes and sizes, a determined look upon my face. A group of several fourth year girls moved to the side and began to whisper. One of them waved, but I kept traveling down the halls. Maybe I didn't need to change. Just everyone else. It would make things so much easier.
The Transfiguration classroom came into view. I entered and McGonigall was seated at her usual spot at her desk.
"Ah, Wood," she said primly. "I have a surprise for you, and I think that it will be most appreciated. Let me introduce you to Bob Harleton, scout for the American Quidditch League."
This day just kept getting better and better.
A man a foot taller than I stepped out from the shadows. He wore a cheesy hat on his head that reminded me of the detectives in old time movies and a brown suit. What was with the muggle clothes?
He came over and shook my hand. It seemed to take forever. "I've heard great things about you, and I think that I like what I saw the last time I watched a game. I'm here to offer you a position, its a once in a lifetime opportunity." He started to ramble, I watched with a dazed look. "Although, when I was sent, they told me that I was to get to know you first, make you feel welcome. So what do you say we take a walk around the school? I could get to know you better, and we can see if this is better for the both of our worlds. How about it?"
"Er, alright."
I led him outside. Well, inside the castle, but outside of the room. We walked at a moderately slow pace. More people began to whisper. It was making me nervous.
"I'm not saying that being in the league is easy. You could say that it would be more of a challenge than the rest. What other options have you been offered?" he asked me, suspiciously like a spy.
"Puddlemere United- OUCH!" My body was buzzing, Buzzing! I've never had that happened before. But the moment my lips finished pronouncing the word 'United,' there was a strange shock that traveled all through me. And let me tell you, it was not a pleasurable shock.
"You okay son?"
"Sure- There was a bee, yeah, a bee," I stumbled out.
"Puddlemere's a nice team. Although, I happened to fancy the Scottish team myself. They always have the fastest brooms. I wonder if they charm them. What kind of broom do you have? We're stock loaded with with the latest styles."
"A Nimbus 2000- Ooooooow!" I howled as another pain- filled shock shook through me.
"Boy, are you sure that you're okay?" He stopped.
"Yes," I said meekly, rubbing my arm. I gave him a small smile.
"Very well, then. Did you see our last match? Ha- ha! Yes, our man Miller pulled a-"
"A wronski Feint?" I said excitedly. "I know, it was absolutely fantastic, I can't believe that you pulled out of that seven match slump- Ow. Ow, ow, ouch!" I was out of control, spinning around the room, because I was in pain. Boy did it hurt! (A/n: Have y'all seen the Winter Guest with Sean Biggerstaff? If you have, just imagine Tom when he has, er, that problem and he's screaming bloody Mary. lol.)
That's when I let it slip. That's when I decided 'hey, this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and this great, respectable man is here to see me. It would be okay if I started dancing around wildly. And Cursing.'
"Oh flipping _________ oh _________, Aaaaaaaaaaah! ___________, __________, _____________!"
With a strange look from the scout, he spoke. "I don't understand what is going. But if you think this is a joke, it seems that I've just waited some valuable time." He left, his blind ponytail bobbing behind him. Wait- that was Katie. It didn't matter, I couldn't see straight anyway. The pain finally subsided.
They were dead. Gone. Deceased. if I ever got my quidditch- deficient hands on those scheming red- haired twins, I would kill them!
As if mocking me, another short spurt of shock buzzed me.
"__________!"
A/n: Again, sorry for the wait. Please r/r.
