Disclamer: I owe Harry Potte nose becomes about 6 m long Really I do! And I'm a real boy too!!! nose becomes so big it pokes your eye

This is the story about two people coming together because one of them believed in fate and because the other one was a bit too stubborn. Romance, humour & Quidditch guaranteed! (Hr/OW)

Every thing had happened because of her stubbornness.

Not true!

She always denies it, but it is true.

Shut UP Oliver! If you want to tell our so called story, do it at least properly! And besides . . . Don't BLAME ME!!!

Hello! I am Oliver Wood.

It had all begun in September 1999.

I graduated from Hogwarts five years ago. As soon as I was out from school, I started searching for a job as Keeper in a professional Quidditch League.

I was offered cheap places to crap teams. I knew I was known to be a good Keeper. My dad (working at the Ministry of Magic) had convinced the coach of Puddelmere United to watch my skills.

The coached –Mr. Robinson- saw and admitted I had talent. He asked me to go to a special Quidditch university for a year, and then he would come and see me again.

I worked hard at the Freedom Fly's Special Quidditch University. One year later, Mr. Robinson came back…

… And made me reserve keeper for Puddelmere United.

I was crazy with joy. The pressure on me was great, but I didn't mind one single bit! I lived up to my dreams!

I stayed at Freedom Fly's and continued studying between training and more training. I graduated two years ago from there.

During my time as a reserve, I had played during these two years three times: once for ten minutes, the second time an hour, during the British Inter Coup, the third time for three hours in the European semi-final Championship in Barcelona. Puddlemere won the semi-final, but was crushed by Germany during the final. But this gave me the first real opportunity to show my skills as a flyer.

The following season, I was made the Keeper –not reserve anymore- of Puddlemere United. The others in the team were…

Boooooo-riiiing! You are supposed to tell a love story, not about Quidditch! What is it with guys and Quidditch and guys anyways?

ANYWAYS, I was made Keeper. I received more money. A lot more money.

I had been living in a lousy one-room-with-kitchen-incorporated-and-one-bath-room apartment just above the Magic Menagerie in Diagon Alley. An error I'll never do again. One must have been used to the perpetual noise made by those damned animals, but I was definitely NOT.

And with me being a good deal richer, I decided to go and search myself a better apartment. I hadn't spent my pay during my first year as an official Keeper at all. I had a great deal of money, but I was saving it.

I was saving my money to be able to afford an apartment WHERE I WOULDN'T BE WAKEN UP EVEY MORNING BY HOOTS, MEOWS and/or other bizarre noises. (Sorry, animals are just so noisy.)

The prizes in Diagon Alley were way too high. My mum- a muggle-born witch, asked me to consider the option of taking an apartment in the muggle part of London.

My dad was a half-Purebred. I have muggle relatives, but my every day life didn't have much from the muggle world in it. I liked the muggle world; it was funny, and a bit exotic. But I could use devices such as television (which I actually was fond of), the telephone or the microwave (the best invention on earth after Quidditch).

So, off I went to Muggle London. I bought the news papers with the small 'search/sale' ads and sat down in a pub. September was warm this year. Outside, the sun was shining through the leaves, casting orange light on the newspaper.

I decided to close my eyes and pick any apartment that was on sale in the newspaper. Soon enough, I realized, after had pointed eight times in a row on the same apartment, that it was a questionable method.

In the end, I decided it was fate. Because no matter now many times I pointed at the news paper, it always landed on the same spot. As if there was an attraction charm on the bloody thing.

I read and re-read the little ad several times.

The apartment seemed to be nice enough: three rooms, one (according tot the ad 'spacious') kitchen, a toilet, a bathroom with an actual bath, a balcony. 145 000 pounds for 133 m². Not bad, not bad at all!

Expensive, but not too much so. I searched for a phone booth and contacted the phone number under the ad. The same day, I had an appointment to visit the apartment.

Outside the phone booth, the wind played with orange-red leafs, and I remember I smiled and watched the sky for a long time that day, full of hopes and awaiting towards the future.

Oliver has the bad habit of making things sound poetic and pretty. Not that it's a bad thing in it's self. Sometimes life is easier when it's pretty. But this has nothing to do with our story.

During my Sixth year at Hogwarts, I made my "fashion coming-out". During summer vacation I had got my under lip and nose pierced. I had a stud in my belly button already in the beginning of Fifth Year, but no one ever noticed it (well, of course not, it was hidden under my robes). During the same year, just at the start of Christmas holidays, I got my first tattoo.

Due to a strict ''tattoo-relieving' campaign against eventual hidden Death eater's marks in school, my tattoo was discovered. It was printed on the inner arm of my wand hand. It's a self designed pattern; it's a phoenix, surrounded by strange flowers, which actually are spirals. When my muscles move under my skin, those spirals create a hypnotic movement, making it look like the phoenix is flapping its wings. Very chic and dead cool.

Of course, every one was dead-shocked by this. Who could have waited such behaviour from me?

After my phoenix tattoo, I got myself an eye-brow piercing, and got also a swarm of bats with each a rune inscription on them on my right tight.

Teachers suffocated as they saw my new style.

My school uniform was radically changed. Spikes ornated the plain grey plaited skirt we were forced to use (I also charmed it to be very short amongst students, and longer during class). My blouse's buttons were small skulls or hearts with a satanic cross in it. My robes were covered in patches and made out of leftovers of others cloths I designed. I wore the tie of whichever boyfriend I had at the moment (boys liked my freak style. Especially a couple of Slytherins). I wore heavy, leather black combat boots with bright coloured shoelaces and chains.

After a while, people got used to my style, and soon enough everything was back to normal again. Except for my annoying dorm mates. They never recovered from the shock.

I had kept all my creative and musical talents hidden during my five first school years. I have no idea why. Maybe because I thought my muggle musical background was so different from the wizarding one. Or so I thought. In school, I formed a band.

Our band became famous within the school and Hogsmade.

And after I graduated, I was dropping (or rather, pushing a bit aside) the opportunity to go to University, and decided to continue doing music.

Luckily, all band members graduated the same year expect one member (sniff…It was horrible to see her go all alone to Hogwarts…). We installed ourselves in a cottage too small for five people to live in.

Officially I moved away from Hogmade so we could be near London, where we performed more and more often. It would only be practical to have a place to stay there.

I also did courses in muggle art and design. My cloths were a mix between muggle and wizarding clothing. I knew the chances of being a real designer were slim, but that was no excuse not to try. Besides, the courses were fun, and I truly missed the school atmosphere during my sabbatical year.

But the true reason why I left was quite personal.

If it was too small for five persons, imagine six! Our second guitarist had moved out temporally to his girlfriend's (that was six months ago, and he still lives there). Our drummer had also a sweetheart. Our first guitarist and synthesizer/mixer were obviously so much in love they didn't see it.

As they finally (FINALLY!!!) saw that they were meant to be together and have big fat babies, my life became quite lonely in our cottage. It wouldn't have mattered if the whole place would have reeked of pheromones and disgusting über-tacky love if Junior (stuck in school) had been there.

So sometimes, I felt so alone in our mini cottage.

To my horror, even Junior found love, and I was all by my self. With junior graduating and staying at the cottage, the drummer and Guitarist n°1 behaving sickly in love, and the two other members cooling with their sweethearts, I decided to move out. Move out to not feel so abandoned in my own house.

That was why I searched for an apartment.

Oh yeah, by the way, my name is Hermione Granger.