Best In The League, a harry potter fanfic

Title: Best In The League

Category: Romance

Spoilers: POA, but nothing major

Rating: PG, it's mild, just some swear words, et.

Summary: Oliver Wood decides to fight mother nature in an attempt to hold a quidditch practice. When he loses that fight he has to clean up the mess, but Angelina Johnson decides to help him out. complete

Author's Note: This is just a one shot at a Oliver/Angelina pairing. Reviews are appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't the owns the rights to the Harry Potter series. Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnson, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team are not mine. This is just a story from my own imagination, it tends to run wild every now and then, and these stories are the product.

Setting: At the quidditch pitch on a rainy day.

The quidditch field was covered in mud. Not just your average mud, but oozy, step-in-it-and-begin-to-sink mud. And, of course the Gryffindor Quidditch Team was found at that moment to be walking, or at least trying to, across the field. Oliver Wood had been at an all time manic high since losing to Hufflepuff a month ago. Although he said that he didn't blame Harry for passing out and losing the snitch to Cedric Diggery, which in turn lost Gryffindor the game, Oliver did have a tough time showing it. He had been adding short practices into their already crammed schedule. He didn't seem to mind waking the rest of the team up at five in the morning to get in a few hours before breakfast, or pushing the team onto the field before they barely get a bite to eat at lunch. But today, he was downright insane.

While most of the professors seemed to think that the rain was coming down hard enough to cancel Herbology and Care Of Magical Creatures. Oliver viewed today as a chance to have one up on the rest of the quidditch teams. 'The rest of those buggers are wimps.' he had said, 'while they're fattening up in their common rooms, we'll be honing are abilities.' The team looked at him skeptically after he had said that. They were all think the same thing, how in the hell were they going to 'hone' their abilities in this weather. The rain was coming down so hard that they could barely walk, let alone fly, and visibility was nonexistent. Not to mention that the thought of catching a cold wouldn't help their flying.

These thoughts were reinforced as they struggled to get onto the field. The mud somehow caught hold of every part of their bodies with it's sticky fingers. By the time they had made it to the center of the field, everyone was covered in it from head to toe. George voiced out loud he's thoughts on it, "I believe my whole body is merging with the mud. Even my ears are packed with the shit.'

Oliver, who was the dirtiest of the group, his hair was dripping with the brown substance, ignored the comment, and shifted the box containing the balls from his hip to the ground. He opened the chest and stood up to look at the group. He seemed to be contemplating something, before he shook his head and began to talk.

"I think the best thing to do is to practice our teamwork and ball handling. It would be to dangerous to risk the bludger , and trying to find the snitch in this weather is impossible."

The team did a group sigh and nodded in agreement. Fred, George, and Harry appeared to be bobbing their heads more enthusiastic them the rest. Oliver oblivious to his teams happiness, picked up the quaffle and passed it to Angelina. She stared at the brilliant red ball in her hands and began to blush. This didn't go out of notice to the team, with the exception to Oliver, who only had quidditch on his mind.

"Well, what are you all waiting for? Lets get into the air." Oliver shouted to the team, with the usual mad gleam that sparked whenever quidditch was on his mind.

They all glanced fearfully at their captain before pushing off into the air. As predicted, this was not going to be an easy practice. The wind dramatically affected their flying, cause them to drift towards the left, especially when a gust would pass. And the rain was falling so hard their eyes were turning bloodshot from the drops and blinding them to where the rest of the team was.

After less then an hour of this, Oliver realized that they were getting no one. He was spending more time blowing his whistle to shout at a bad play or missed caught, then the team was practicing. He sighed in defeat and blew his whistle one last time. The team shot their heads towards him to see what they had done wrong. Oliver signed that it was time to land. The team flew to the ground; the force at which they landed sent mud everywhere.

"Well, I think its about time to call it quits. We're not getting anywhere and I don't want fatigue to lower your immune systems and make you more vulnerable to sickness. If we keep up this determination there's no way we won't win the cup this year!" Oliver said, giving the expected team speech. He added as an afterthought, "Of course there really was no reason why we haven't won it in the past two years either. We're the best sodding team in this school, and we're going to win! So everyone get a good night's sleep and we'll see if we can continue this tomorrow morning if the weather's better.'

Harry, Fred, and George took off immediately when Oliver was done. Alicia and Katie waited patiently as Angelina hovered near Oliver. She seemed to be considering something. She took a step forward and began to speak.

"Would you like some help with that?" Angelina asked Oliver, pointing to the chest.

"Huh?" Oliver responded glancing up to her. "Are you taking the Mickey? No one every helps me with this crap."

"I know. That's why I'm asking." Angelina answered.

"Okay then." Oliver said handing her his broom and picking up the chest with ease. Having both hands to do the work, instead of trying to balance it on one hip while holding his broom, was a major improvement.

Alicia and Katie seemed to get the vibe that it was time for them to leave, and they casually disappeared into the distance.

Oliver smiled at Angelina, and for the first time he took notice of her. Of course he wasn't unaware to her before. He just never took the time to observe how nicely her black hair fluttered in the wind, or that her eyes were just the right shade of brown. not too dark that they looked black and not too light that they looked faded, but just a pleasant medium.

They began to walk towards the locker rooms and Madam Hooch's office. The harsh sound of their shoes in the mud dominated the silence between them. Soon they were in the locker room and Oliver was fumbling with the keys to open Hooch's office. A soft click sounded, letting the two know that the door was open. Oliver gave the door a kick with his foot, shifted the chest slightly and walked in with Angelina following.

The room was shrewd in darkness until Oliver once again began to fumble in search of his wand.

"Lumos." he spoke, allowing lights to flood into the room. He dropped the chest near the base of an beaten up desk that was covered in fading stickers with names of countless quidditch teams. If a person bothered to look they could even notice a few of the lesser known teams from North America, like the Fitchburg Finches, who won the US cup seven times, or the Moosejaw Meteorites, who were from Canada. Oliver finished lighting up the lamps and the room and now filled with an subtle yellow light. Even the quidditch posters on the walls had an quixotic feeling to them.

Oliver took out a couple of rags from the battered broom closet and handled one to Angelina, who had placed their broomsticks up in the corner of the room to dry. They concentrated on cleaning the muddy chest and quaffle for the next ten minutes. The only gestures they made toward each other was when they hands would make contact while rubbing against the wooden trunk. Although it was quite odd that this happened much more then it normally would to two people. In fact, those short moments of contact became more and more frequent and for longer periods of time as they cleaned. It was becoming obvious that the chest was as clean as it has ever been. Oliver sighed was stopped wiping.

"I think that's 'bout it." he said reaching for Angelina's rag.

Their fingers connected, and a spark shot thru them. They made eye contact, and Angelina couldn't help but think of how brilliant Oliver's eyes were. They were a stunning brown, not like her own eyes, his were much darker, much deeper. And she couldn't help but be reminded of nature, in the purest sense of it. Digging thru rich, almost black soil, feeling the earthiness and sheer feeling of life. Angelina noticed that they bodies seemed to have a magnetic pull. She felt common sense lose the fight with her body as it leaned towards Oliver, and he felt the same battle raging on inside himself. Abruptly he felt himself lost what control he had, and he closed the distance between them. His lips straight away found hers and he showered gentle short kisses on them. Angelina's arms wrapped themselves around his neck and she felt his move from the sides of her face to her waist. The kisses slowly deepened and increased in length until they were practically on top of each on Madam Hooch's desk. When a cup containing pencils crashed to the floor, they were snapped out of their trance and separated immediately, both sporting the same shade of red.

Oliver quickly muttered 'repairo' and placed the cup back on the desk, while Angelina went to the corner and picked up the brooms. She crossed the room and handed Oliver his, while refraining from looking him in the eyes.

"All right then." Oliver said, giving the room a once over before taking Angelina's hand in his own and exiting the office. Angelina looked up at Oliver's face and he was smiling back down at her with his teeth showing in a huge smile. He locked the doors and they slowly made their way back up to the school. The End.