For disclaimer please see prologue.
A/N and individual `Thank you's´ for the kind reviewers can be found at the end of the chapter. :)
The OC's:
1. Todd Garrett : owner of the pub and the inn called `The queasy
Bludger´, friend of Olivers'
1. Polly Graham : cook at `The queasy Bludger´
1. Don Halcombe : Chaser for Puddlemere United
1. Shauna, Lydia & Daphne : waitresses at `The queasy Bludger´
~*~*~*~ CHAPTER 03 ~*~*~*~
"That is your decision, Mr. Wood. I'm simply informing you that every time you climb broom, you're putting yourself in mortal danger."
Those dark words, spoken by Kingsley Shacklebolt, had kept Oliver Wood from playing Quidditch for about fifteen minutes, which was exactly the time it took the Keeper to get to the stadium where Puddlemere United was usually training. Of course - and maybe just to spite the older man - Oliver hadn't even bothered to Apparate from `The queasy Bludger´ but took off on his broom instead (deftly ignoring Hermione's protests).
It was now half an hour later and Oliver Wood was in his element, namely the sky. Wind rushed through his hair and teared at his clothes while fresh, vibrant air filled his lungs. This was life! A powerful surge of pure joy went through the Scotsman as he performed a playful loop on his broomstick before catching the Quaffle easily.
"Good catch, Wood!" Don Halcombe, Puddlemere United's most experienced chaser cheered. "One day we'll make a proper Keeper out of you!"
"Give me some challenges, then, Don!" Oliver laughed, feeling at ease with the whole world, "Try to score, why don't you?"
The wind carried Don's deep laughter over. "Insolent brat! Try to catch this!"
And with the astonishing speed that had made Don Halcombe a living legend, the Chaser took hold of the Quaffle and raced towards the goalposts. Oliver couldn't keep himself from grinning broadly. This was exactly what he had been dreaming of ever since the ripe age of three. Don came closer, apparently aiming for the left hoop and Oliver felt his muscles flex in anticipation. If he flew towards the left hoop now, Don would surely change his direction, so Oliver had no choice but stay put and ready himself for a fast sprint. Don raced closer, his face a mask of pure concentration. They were living the game. Oliver fixed his eyes on Don's right arm, knowing that its movement would tell him which hoop Don was actually aiming for. A drop of sweat made its way down Oliver's spine but the young man barely noticed it. There! The left - no! - Don was aiming for the right hoop! Throwing back his weight Oliver turned his broom around and reached out for the Quaffle. It brushed against the tips of his fingers.he almost.but no! A claxon announced Don's goal as the older man shot Oliver a smug look.
"Enough of a challenge, lad?" The Chaser grinned.
"That was mean, you know?" Oliver shot back as Don threw his head back in laughter.
"You look just like my two-year old son when I'm telling him that there will be no more candies for him!"
Wood sniffed in mock indignation. "Go ahead. Stomp on my fragile ego."
Don was about to reply as a voice drifted up to the two Quidditch players. "Wood! Come down here! Your girlfriend's here to see you!"
Don raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize you had time for a girlfriend, Wood. What happened to `I live for Quidditch´? "
Oliver frowned. "Nothing did. I didn't realize I even have a girlfriend!" With a final wave the Scotsman descended towards the ranks, where a small dark figure clad in a red and golden shawl was waiting for him.
~*~*~
"Hermione? What are you doing here?"
The petite bushy-haired woman looked sternly at the muscular Quidditch- player. "The real question is, what are you doing here?"
"Ummm.my job? I'm a Quidditch-player, you know? I play Quidditch." Oliver could swear he heard Hermione growl at him.
"You're not supposed to fly in your..." she lowered her voice, "in your condition." Hermione pushed her hair out of her face, reached for a bag next to her and pulled out a thick, dusty book. "I've been researching `eidetics´," she informed him crisply, "and there are some things we'll need to discuss."
"We do?" Oliver raised an eyebrow. He hadn't been aware that he had to discuss anything with Hermione. Obviously this was turning into a day of startling revelations, the Kepper thought wryly.
"Of course we do. Since you obviously have no idea of what you are capable of, I felt that it's of vital importance for you to know the risks of being an eidetic."
Oliver shook his head, torn between annoyance and a grudging admittance that the bushy- haired hellion in front of him was right. Sighing, he reached a decision. "Well, since last time we went out together turned out to be so fascinating, I guess we should give it another try, hm? How about `The Leaky Cauldron´ this time?"
"Sure," came the reply, "Let's just hope that everybody survives the experience."
~*~*~
"It's cold," Nymphadora Tonks muttered between chattering teeth. The young Auror had wrapped herself tightly in her robes and even added a few pounds of weight to her usually slim figure. Anything to keep out the cold.
Her partner, Kingsley Shacklebolt, did not spare her a glance. His lively brown eyes were fixed on the still form lying on the steel table and the small medi-wizard, who was examining it. A light prod with the wand here, another poke there, some quietly spoken incantations and the seemingly random use of potions had not brought forth any more information. The unfortunate victim, whose life had found an untimely ending in Tod Garrett's refrigerator, remained anonym. Tonks of course, being her usual resolute self, had decided to name the victim and thereby make him a person rather than an object of observation and investigation. Kingsley smiled despite the dire situation. He was very lucky to have Tonks as a partner after all, he mused. She brought just the right amount of compassion into the job to balance out his own cold professionalism. Even if she could be extremely irritating sometimes, Kingsley admitted as he watched her shift her weight from one foot to the other in order to gain some warmth.
"Why is it so cold here, anyway?" she whined, running cold hands up and down her arms.
"You know that they need to keep the temperature down, Tonks." Kingsley explained patiently. "I believe you'd rather deal with the cold than the smell."
Tonks sighed dramatically but any reply she would have made was lost as the medi- wizard finally straightened up and addressed the two Aurors.
"Well my dears," he squeaked in a voice remarkably like Professor Flitwick's, "Mr. Algernon's body - that's what you called him, wasn't it, Miss Tonks? - was frozen to the core. My examination indicates that this was done magically, so that we can't really pinpoint the time of death or even the time that poor Mr. Algernon has been frozen."
"So you mean that he could have been in the refrigerator for ten minutes as well as several hours according to the state his body was in?" Tonks asked, her quick mind working well despite the cold.
"Exactly, Miss Tonks." The medi-wizard replied. "Furthermore, I have run some checks on the blood that was found on the floor. It's pig's blood, apparently from some steaks they were storing in the fridge. However, you did make some photos of it, didn't you?"
Kingsley nodded solemnly. Of course they had. It was standard procedure, after all. If they were lucky their examinations of the photos might even lead to the discovery of a foot- or fingerprint, although that was more than improbable. "Anything else?" Kingsley asked, quietly fighting down the growing feeling of unease that had silently crept onto him ever since the case had started.
The small medi-wizard puffed, a sign of deep concentration on his part. "No," he finally squeaked, "there was no indication for the cause of Mr. Algernon's death. It is as if he has simply stopped living. We all know what that means in all likelihood," he finished mournfully. Of course he was referring to the unforgivable `Avada Kedavra´-curse. A tense silence descended on the group, each hanging on the threads of their own bitter thoughts.
"All right," Kingsley finally decided, "let's see if we find some more leads. Maybe I should return to `The queasy Bludger´ or question that Quidditch-player once more. Something about him is not like it should be."
"Wood, isn't it?" Tonks inquired thoughtfully. Then, suddenly her face lit up. "I think I remember him! He attended Hogwarts, right? I distinctly remember a small Quidditch-crazed Gryffindor."
The medi-wizard looked puzzled. "Why would you remember that particular boy? In my time we didn't know all the children beneath our year," he recalled with a warm sparkle in his eyes.
Tonks laughed. "I remember that there was this crazy first year, who would always follow us to the pitch to watch the training. He became something of a mascot, although we never told him that. I think Charley Weasley was always very amused."
"Really, but -" Kingsley started, but was interrupted by an amused voice.
"That he was, Nymphadora, that he was." Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as well as the only person allowed to call Tonks by her hated first name, entered the cold room, sporting a warm smile. "I'll have you know that little Oliver even became captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team. His smile was so broad that day that I feared the upper half of his head would fall off and we'd have to call for Madame Pomfrey."
"Albus! What a surprise!" the medi-wizard quickly waddled over to the headmaster and enveloped him in a hearty hug. "What brings you here?"
"This poor man, Frederick," Dumbledore nodded at the still form of `Algernon´. "I have been asked to take a look him while I'm around."
"So?" Kingsley prompted, getting back to the business at hand. "Do you recognize him?"
Dumbledore studied the body closely, bushy brows furrowed thoughtfully. Finally, he sighed regretfully. "I believe that there is nothing I can help you with right now." Having said that Dumbledore turned on his heels and made his way to the door. However, before leaving he secretly slipped a small parchment reading "Meet me for dinner at the Headquarter" into Kingsley's hand. Then, the headmaster left for real.
~*~*~*~*~
Please let me know if you want to be notified when I update :)
Next chapter: What is Dumbledore going to tell Kingsley and Tonks? What will happen, when Oliver and Hermione try to spend an eventless afternoon together? And who is `Mr. Algernon´? - Most of that will be answered. ;-)
Oh! And we're finally moving towards the romance-stuff!
Comments: Please forgive me my poor formatting. I STILL haven't figured out how to do that properly. Maybe that's something I can tackle this year. ;-)
I thank all my wonderful reviewers for bearing with me. Words can't describe my joy whenever I read one of your reviews. It really makes my day! :)
Blood 57: Ahem.unfortunately, I wasn't as fast with my updates this time. However, that's all Oliver's fault! I had to re-write the first part of this chapter three times until I felt that it was sufficient. Life's hard, isn't it? ;)
Woodelf193: Trust me, I will continue. I already have the plot for the next two chapters in head! The only thing that might stop me now are exams *shiver*
Queenofdiamonds1: Oliver's weird? How did you get that idea? ;-)
Hallie Walker: This chapter refused to turn out right, which is it took me so long to update. Sorry :)
Dyrim123: I hope you'll like the rest of it, too. Beginning with the next chapter the romance starts (slowly) and the investigation becomes more serious. :)
L'Eau Goddess: Awwww! You added me to your favourites! Hugs! Lots of virtual hugs to you! Thanks *blushes* :)
Laura Buzali: Why did everyone get the idea that Oliver would quit Quidditch? He SHOULD quit, but he won't! Nothing short of death could keep our favourite Keeper from a broomstick and I'm surely not going to change that! :)
A/N and individual `Thank you's´ for the kind reviewers can be found at the end of the chapter. :)
The OC's:
1. Todd Garrett : owner of the pub and the inn called `The queasy
Bludger´, friend of Olivers'
1. Polly Graham : cook at `The queasy Bludger´
1. Don Halcombe : Chaser for Puddlemere United
1. Shauna, Lydia & Daphne : waitresses at `The queasy Bludger´
~*~*~*~ CHAPTER 03 ~*~*~*~
"That is your decision, Mr. Wood. I'm simply informing you that every time you climb broom, you're putting yourself in mortal danger."
Those dark words, spoken by Kingsley Shacklebolt, had kept Oliver Wood from playing Quidditch for about fifteen minutes, which was exactly the time it took the Keeper to get to the stadium where Puddlemere United was usually training. Of course - and maybe just to spite the older man - Oliver hadn't even bothered to Apparate from `The queasy Bludger´ but took off on his broom instead (deftly ignoring Hermione's protests).
It was now half an hour later and Oliver Wood was in his element, namely the sky. Wind rushed through his hair and teared at his clothes while fresh, vibrant air filled his lungs. This was life! A powerful surge of pure joy went through the Scotsman as he performed a playful loop on his broomstick before catching the Quaffle easily.
"Good catch, Wood!" Don Halcombe, Puddlemere United's most experienced chaser cheered. "One day we'll make a proper Keeper out of you!"
"Give me some challenges, then, Don!" Oliver laughed, feeling at ease with the whole world, "Try to score, why don't you?"
The wind carried Don's deep laughter over. "Insolent brat! Try to catch this!"
And with the astonishing speed that had made Don Halcombe a living legend, the Chaser took hold of the Quaffle and raced towards the goalposts. Oliver couldn't keep himself from grinning broadly. This was exactly what he had been dreaming of ever since the ripe age of three. Don came closer, apparently aiming for the left hoop and Oliver felt his muscles flex in anticipation. If he flew towards the left hoop now, Don would surely change his direction, so Oliver had no choice but stay put and ready himself for a fast sprint. Don raced closer, his face a mask of pure concentration. They were living the game. Oliver fixed his eyes on Don's right arm, knowing that its movement would tell him which hoop Don was actually aiming for. A drop of sweat made its way down Oliver's spine but the young man barely noticed it. There! The left - no! - Don was aiming for the right hoop! Throwing back his weight Oliver turned his broom around and reached out for the Quaffle. It brushed against the tips of his fingers.he almost.but no! A claxon announced Don's goal as the older man shot Oliver a smug look.
"Enough of a challenge, lad?" The Chaser grinned.
"That was mean, you know?" Oliver shot back as Don threw his head back in laughter.
"You look just like my two-year old son when I'm telling him that there will be no more candies for him!"
Wood sniffed in mock indignation. "Go ahead. Stomp on my fragile ego."
Don was about to reply as a voice drifted up to the two Quidditch players. "Wood! Come down here! Your girlfriend's here to see you!"
Don raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize you had time for a girlfriend, Wood. What happened to `I live for Quidditch´? "
Oliver frowned. "Nothing did. I didn't realize I even have a girlfriend!" With a final wave the Scotsman descended towards the ranks, where a small dark figure clad in a red and golden shawl was waiting for him.
~*~*~
"Hermione? What are you doing here?"
The petite bushy-haired woman looked sternly at the muscular Quidditch- player. "The real question is, what are you doing here?"
"Ummm.my job? I'm a Quidditch-player, you know? I play Quidditch." Oliver could swear he heard Hermione growl at him.
"You're not supposed to fly in your..." she lowered her voice, "in your condition." Hermione pushed her hair out of her face, reached for a bag next to her and pulled out a thick, dusty book. "I've been researching `eidetics´," she informed him crisply, "and there are some things we'll need to discuss."
"We do?" Oliver raised an eyebrow. He hadn't been aware that he had to discuss anything with Hermione. Obviously this was turning into a day of startling revelations, the Kepper thought wryly.
"Of course we do. Since you obviously have no idea of what you are capable of, I felt that it's of vital importance for you to know the risks of being an eidetic."
Oliver shook his head, torn between annoyance and a grudging admittance that the bushy- haired hellion in front of him was right. Sighing, he reached a decision. "Well, since last time we went out together turned out to be so fascinating, I guess we should give it another try, hm? How about `The Leaky Cauldron´ this time?"
"Sure," came the reply, "Let's just hope that everybody survives the experience."
~*~*~
"It's cold," Nymphadora Tonks muttered between chattering teeth. The young Auror had wrapped herself tightly in her robes and even added a few pounds of weight to her usually slim figure. Anything to keep out the cold.
Her partner, Kingsley Shacklebolt, did not spare her a glance. His lively brown eyes were fixed on the still form lying on the steel table and the small medi-wizard, who was examining it. A light prod with the wand here, another poke there, some quietly spoken incantations and the seemingly random use of potions had not brought forth any more information. The unfortunate victim, whose life had found an untimely ending in Tod Garrett's refrigerator, remained anonym. Tonks of course, being her usual resolute self, had decided to name the victim and thereby make him a person rather than an object of observation and investigation. Kingsley smiled despite the dire situation. He was very lucky to have Tonks as a partner after all, he mused. She brought just the right amount of compassion into the job to balance out his own cold professionalism. Even if she could be extremely irritating sometimes, Kingsley admitted as he watched her shift her weight from one foot to the other in order to gain some warmth.
"Why is it so cold here, anyway?" she whined, running cold hands up and down her arms.
"You know that they need to keep the temperature down, Tonks." Kingsley explained patiently. "I believe you'd rather deal with the cold than the smell."
Tonks sighed dramatically but any reply she would have made was lost as the medi- wizard finally straightened up and addressed the two Aurors.
"Well my dears," he squeaked in a voice remarkably like Professor Flitwick's, "Mr. Algernon's body - that's what you called him, wasn't it, Miss Tonks? - was frozen to the core. My examination indicates that this was done magically, so that we can't really pinpoint the time of death or even the time that poor Mr. Algernon has been frozen."
"So you mean that he could have been in the refrigerator for ten minutes as well as several hours according to the state his body was in?" Tonks asked, her quick mind working well despite the cold.
"Exactly, Miss Tonks." The medi-wizard replied. "Furthermore, I have run some checks on the blood that was found on the floor. It's pig's blood, apparently from some steaks they were storing in the fridge. However, you did make some photos of it, didn't you?"
Kingsley nodded solemnly. Of course they had. It was standard procedure, after all. If they were lucky their examinations of the photos might even lead to the discovery of a foot- or fingerprint, although that was more than improbable. "Anything else?" Kingsley asked, quietly fighting down the growing feeling of unease that had silently crept onto him ever since the case had started.
The small medi-wizard puffed, a sign of deep concentration on his part. "No," he finally squeaked, "there was no indication for the cause of Mr. Algernon's death. It is as if he has simply stopped living. We all know what that means in all likelihood," he finished mournfully. Of course he was referring to the unforgivable `Avada Kedavra´-curse. A tense silence descended on the group, each hanging on the threads of their own bitter thoughts.
"All right," Kingsley finally decided, "let's see if we find some more leads. Maybe I should return to `The queasy Bludger´ or question that Quidditch-player once more. Something about him is not like it should be."
"Wood, isn't it?" Tonks inquired thoughtfully. Then, suddenly her face lit up. "I think I remember him! He attended Hogwarts, right? I distinctly remember a small Quidditch-crazed Gryffindor."
The medi-wizard looked puzzled. "Why would you remember that particular boy? In my time we didn't know all the children beneath our year," he recalled with a warm sparkle in his eyes.
Tonks laughed. "I remember that there was this crazy first year, who would always follow us to the pitch to watch the training. He became something of a mascot, although we never told him that. I think Charley Weasley was always very amused."
"Really, but -" Kingsley started, but was interrupted by an amused voice.
"That he was, Nymphadora, that he was." Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as well as the only person allowed to call Tonks by her hated first name, entered the cold room, sporting a warm smile. "I'll have you know that little Oliver even became captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team. His smile was so broad that day that I feared the upper half of his head would fall off and we'd have to call for Madame Pomfrey."
"Albus! What a surprise!" the medi-wizard quickly waddled over to the headmaster and enveloped him in a hearty hug. "What brings you here?"
"This poor man, Frederick," Dumbledore nodded at the still form of `Algernon´. "I have been asked to take a look him while I'm around."
"So?" Kingsley prompted, getting back to the business at hand. "Do you recognize him?"
Dumbledore studied the body closely, bushy brows furrowed thoughtfully. Finally, he sighed regretfully. "I believe that there is nothing I can help you with right now." Having said that Dumbledore turned on his heels and made his way to the door. However, before leaving he secretly slipped a small parchment reading "Meet me for dinner at the Headquarter" into Kingsley's hand. Then, the headmaster left for real.
~*~*~*~*~
Please let me know if you want to be notified when I update :)
Next chapter: What is Dumbledore going to tell Kingsley and Tonks? What will happen, when Oliver and Hermione try to spend an eventless afternoon together? And who is `Mr. Algernon´? - Most of that will be answered. ;-)
Oh! And we're finally moving towards the romance-stuff!
Comments: Please forgive me my poor formatting. I STILL haven't figured out how to do that properly. Maybe that's something I can tackle this year. ;-)
I thank all my wonderful reviewers for bearing with me. Words can't describe my joy whenever I read one of your reviews. It really makes my day! :)
Blood 57: Ahem.unfortunately, I wasn't as fast with my updates this time. However, that's all Oliver's fault! I had to re-write the first part of this chapter three times until I felt that it was sufficient. Life's hard, isn't it? ;)
Woodelf193: Trust me, I will continue. I already have the plot for the next two chapters in head! The only thing that might stop me now are exams *shiver*
Queenofdiamonds1: Oliver's weird? How did you get that idea? ;-)
Hallie Walker: This chapter refused to turn out right, which is it took me so long to update. Sorry :)
Dyrim123: I hope you'll like the rest of it, too. Beginning with the next chapter the romance starts (slowly) and the investigation becomes more serious. :)
L'Eau Goddess: Awwww! You added me to your favourites! Hugs! Lots of virtual hugs to you! Thanks *blushes* :)
Laura Buzali: Why did everyone get the idea that Oliver would quit Quidditch? He SHOULD quit, but he won't! Nothing short of death could keep our favourite Keeper from a broomstick and I'm surely not going to change that! :)