Disclaimer: I only own Morgana and the stuff I make up about the Montague family. Though I really wouldn't care if someone used it
Author's Note: hugs reviewers I am glad people like my work. I really really appreciate it. Um, I hope that my OC is turning out okay. The DADA teacher doesn't really play a role in this story so I am not going to specify on the details. Onward!
Chapter Four: The First Day Part 2
Charms class went smoothing, mainly because Wood wasn't daft in that class like he had been in potions. We did well on that potion by the way. I won't lie and say I did all of it . . . he added two ingredients! That was sarcastic, I hope you caught that.
Anyway, Wood and I were still on our way to Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I don't know what happened to Wood. After he came back from talking to his quidditch friends at lunch, he just couldn't stop talking. I said I liked quidditch and I triggered some psycho gene. He started ranting. I was still eating but it wasn't hard to answer with 'mhm' and 'really?'
"So Montague, do you have a boyfriend?" I nearly chocked on my pumpkin juice.
"Excuse me?" I said looking over at him. He really surprised me on that one. It came out of a conversation about Puddlemere United.
"All slytherin girls have boyfriends," he said with a shrug of his left shoulder as though his statement was perfectly justified.
"You shouldn't assume or generalize," I said cooly.
"That doesn't answer the question."
I rolled my eyes, "Come on. We need to go to DADA."
"That still doesn't answer the question!" he was getting irritated as we made are way down the corridor.
"Fine!" I said. Not only did I not want to answer his stupid questions like he was trying to get to know me, but also the issue of men was not something I was too comfortable with. Long story I guess . . . though its kinda short. "I don't have a boyfriend," I said stretching out my words with a sour expression. "There are you happy?"
"Is that why you're such a bitch?" it wasn't Wood who said that one. I looked over to the stairs and saw Graham and his buddies (those who weren't on the quidditch team) all snickering.
I sneered at him, "I won't hesitate to re-break your arm, oh dear brother." For some reason, having my brother call me what so many have before, really stung this time. So I shot back with the first comment I could think of. "Don't be bitter just because you don't have a team to come back and play on once that arm heals." I stormed away, not obviously but fast enough that Wood had to jog to catch up.
"Wait a minute!" he called. I stopped and turned around.
"Yes?" I said sourly.
Wood looked as though he was thinking of just how to phrase what I knew he was thinking. He was trying to get all personal and ask how I felt about what my brother said or something along those lines. He looked back at Graham and his friends and then at me. Just when he opened his mouth to say something, I cut him off.
"Yes, that happens a lot and I am not a "bitch" because of boys."
He frowned. I don't think I gave him the answer he was looking for. "Well . . . maybe if you were a bit nicer people wouldn't be so inclined to call you names."
I rolled my eyes, what was this he was trying to pull. He couldn't seriously be trying to get on good terms with me. Gryffindors hate Slytherins and visa versa. That is how it is. They don't help us or want to be our friends. That is exactly what I told him.
Wood gave me a cheeky Scottish grin. "You shouldn't assume or generalize." He got me there. "So since we are stuck together for a while. I can't get out of it any faster than you so how about we start over."
"We are on opposing quidditch teams."
"Not until my shoulder heals," he said with a grin. He held out his hand, "Hello. My name is Oliver Wood. You may call me Oliver. I'm in Gryffindor, captain of the quidditch team. I play keeper. I have no siblings. My mum works at Gringotts and my dad at the ministry of magic. Who are you?"
I raised an eyebrow, he was quite specific with this introduction stuff. I decided to humor him. I took his hand. "Hello. My name is Morgana Montague. I am in Slytherin. I am a beater on the quidditch team. I have a two older brothers and a twin brother. My mother works for the Ministry and my father is a lawyer."
He looked at me like I left out something. "What may I call you Miss?" I internally cringed at his tone.
"Montague," I replied. He gave me an eye saying if that he gave up his first name to me so I better do the same. "I mean, you may call me . . ."I clenched my teeth like it pained me, "Morgana."
"Nice to meet. I thought I heard Derek Bole calling you Morgan though?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"So I will call you Morgan."
"What!" I was surprised again by Wood, or should I say Oliver. Why was he so intent on being all buddy-buddy with me?
"You can call me Oliver," he said trying to get me not to shout.
"But that doesn't mean I want to," I hissed.
Wood sighed, "What does it take for you to be nice to me?"
"Why do you want me to be nice to you!?" I shouted. This guy had me sincerely puzzled. I just couldn't get over the fact that a Gryffindor wanted to be friends with a Slytherin. It seemed so . . . surreal? Impossible. Not to mention the slytherin was a girl who had broken his shoulder, punched him and knocked him off his broom with a bludger twice? I knew I was taking a risk here but in truth, I was getting tired of his pestering. Maybe it would get him off my back, besides, being nice didn't mean I had to like him . . . right? But that was also the problem. If you are nice to someone in the slytherin world. It means you are either good friends or together or want to be together on one end or the other. There was hateful and spiteful attitude if you didn't like someone, cold if you thought they were okay, then cool if you had them on your good side. I hate to say it but nice in the way he was saying was so foreign. Nice in the terms I am used to (which is guys talking about quidditch) involves no trying to kill someone, purposefully or accidental . . . maybe that definition could work here.
"Because you are interesting," he said with a Scottish grin. "You are different from other Slytherin girls."
"Oh ho?" I said with a raised eyebrow as we walked. "Before you said all Slytherin girls are the same."
"Did you tell me not to generalize," he said and I wanted to slap that cheeky grin off of his face. "You are different, in an interesting way." This felt like it was getting weird for some reason. Thank god we (finally) made it to DADA.
As for the class, it was alright. Wood just had to point out that I was just as unskilled as I said I was. I am not good with spells for evil. I mean I am a beater! I like to hit things! The spells are alright, I could use some more study time and then I would be fine but I am not terrible to begin with. Oh who cares about how the class went. The good thing was Wood dropped the buddy-buddy stuff when other gryffindors were around.
DADA ended though, it was a different story. He started chattering away again. Not boyishly but . . . I don't know how to describe it except to say that it was extremely annoying. "So what do slytherins do in there spare time?"
I rolled my eyes, I couldn't figure out why he was so intent on conversation. "Probably the same stuff you do."
"Like what?" I don't think he realized that we were walking up to Gryffindor tower.
"Parties, we play wizard chess, make fun of other houses, play quidditch yada yada," I said. I was getting sick of this fast.
"Really?" he sounded as though he expected me to say, kiss ass to the dark lord and sacrifice small animals.
"Yeah really," I said sharply.
"Come on now," he said with another fucking grin. "I thought we were going to be friends."
"You thought that," I replied. Almost there, almost there, I kept chanting in my head as we climbed the stairs.
"Well I need help on my homework tonight, can we meet in the library?" he asked out of no where.
"Excuse me?" I said looking at him. "I don't believe I was inclined to do your homework for you when I got this punishment."
"You aren't doing it for me," he said like I was an idiot, heh look in the mirror buddy. "I just need your help. To write and stuff."
"I have quidditch practice," I growled.
"Then come after!" he said.
"Fine. In the library at six." I left before he could say anything more. I hustled down to the dungeons to grab my quidditch stuff. Wood had been acting so weird . . . I just couldn't get it out of my mind, no matter how much I wanted to just let it go. I better be on my guard but . . . who knows, maybe it is normal for him. I mean, Gryffindors aren't like Slytherins when they act weird are they? When slytherins act weird something is up or there is an alternative motive. Is it the same for Gryffindors? Or does it mean something else? God, this is giving me a headache.
As I was walking down the dungeon corridor when I saw Graham. I was about to call out to him when I realized he was talking to someone else . . . talking and laughing . . . and it wasn't the type of laugh he would give his friends. Thinking that it might be a girl who I would once again have to threaten to stay away from my brother, I crept behind a statue.
Are you looking at me strangely for the statement about threatening? Well let me explain, I like to think it my responsibility both as a sibling and a responsibility to all females to keep my brothers hormones under control. How that figures into scaring away all potential girlfriends whom I don't like . . . I don't know. I guess it has something to do with looking out for my twin brother . . . and getting him back for calling me a bitch.
But I was surprised when I saw, no not a slytherin girl but Katie Bell. My jaw dropped. She was flirting with him. How I wish I didn't have to say it but it was true! She was giving him a giggle, smile and making him laugh. What was wrong with the world? Was it just me or was the entire world completely backwards? If anything Graham should be the one flirting with Bell. I couldn't take it anymore, I had to break it up.
"Hey Graham!" I said coming towards him.
The two practically jumped apart. "What do you want, Morgan?"
"Have the guys left for practice yet?"
"No. In a few minutes."
"How are you and wood getting along?" Katie asked with a smirk. It was odd. I didn't expect a smirk, I expected a glare, like the one she gave me on the field the other day. This was . . . odd.
"We aren't as close as you and my brother," I said with a glare. I think Graham blanched but I didn't see him too well.
"Are you coming to practice, Graham?" I asked as I walked to the portal.
"No," was all he said.
Quidditch practice was a nightmare. Not because of how I played, thank god. It was the weather and . . . intensity. Marcus or should I say Flint (my colder way of referring to him) is suddenly re-inspired to make us the best and toughest team in the whole fucking school. There are only four houses! How tough do you need to be? Not that I don't like to work at quidditch. I love it! But you would think Marcus would have called it off when the thunder and lightning came.
But noooooo . . . Flint went on and on about how Gryffindor practiced like this and did we want some do-gooding losers to show us up etc. To Flint's credit though, he didn't go overtime. But he did make all of us keep playing when we fell off our brooms. Yes, you heard me right, we fell off the fucking brooms. It was hard not to! There was wind, lightning, thunder and rain. Everyone of us, including Flint, took at least one tumble down into the mud. I took three. Twice because I reached too far out to smack a bludger and after hitting it, slid off my broom. The other time was because Adrian Pucey was flying and talking to Derek at the same time, needless to say the dumbass and I collided and knocked off our brooms. I was quite pleased when Flint completely bitched him out.
Now however, I am trudging up the stairs to the library to meet Wood. I was still caked with mud because guess who didnt' have time to change. I hadn't seen a mirror but I bet you ten galleons I looked like hell.
When I got to the library, I saw a very clean Oliver Wood sitting down at a table flirting with some girls. By the looks of it . . . hufflepuff fifth years. How can I tell? When you watch people as much as I did for five years, you get to identify who comes from where. It really isn't that difficult though sometimes you get stumped. Liked that Granger girl could have gone in any direction. Typically the people who are hard to place are Gryffindors. Wow, I am like human sorting hat.
Anyway when Wood saw me, his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He quickly said goodbye to the girls as I came over. I flopped down into a chair with a pissed-off expression.
"What in bloody hell happened to you?" Wood exclaimed.
"Have you looked outside?" I said running a hand over my head, feeling the filth. Wood did so and if possible, his eyes widened even more. "Yeah. We played quidditch in that shit." Some more people came into the library behind me but I didn't see who. They were whispering though, I guessed it had to be about how I looked.
"You look terrible," Wood said cringing and shaking his head.
"I was knocked off my broom three times," I explained as I attempted to run a hand through my ponytail . . . it wasn't possible.
Wood didn't say anything for a moment, as though he was debating.
"So what did you want to work on?" I asked.
He sighed, "Forget it. I will get one of the Gryffindors to help me. You can leave."
"Are you saying I am incapable of helping you?"
"No!" he shouted. I was surprised. I hadn't pestered him to the point of yelling. That comment deserved a roll of the eyes. "I am saying that you look like hell and you should go clean up because you are really pretty when you do!"
I was once again surprised. I stared at him for a moment before gathering my things. I stood up to leave. I hadn't even contemplated leaving to take a bath, much less him letting me. You would think he would get some sort of sick pleasure out of it. Before I could stop myself, I looked him in the face and said, "Thank you, Oliver."
He looked just as shocked as I was. "You're welcome, Morgan," he said with a smile.
I realized what I had just said and how kindly I had said it. I nearly sprinted out of the library. I almost collided with Alicia Spinnett and Angelina Johnson. I didn't stick around long enough to see their faces.
----Narrator POV-----
Angelina and Alicia entered the library and walked over to Oliver. "So how'd it go?" Alicia asked with sinister anticipation.
Oliver sighed, "I couldn't do it. She looked too wretched that I felt sorry for her."
Alicia and Angelina glared at him. "Are you backing out?" Angelina asked.
Oliver looked up at them. "No, of course not. I'll do it tomorrow. Don't want her to get too suspicious right?"
Author's Note: ooooo what do the Gryffindors have up their sleeve? Well, please R&R! I really appreciate it.