That works.Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter, blah, blah, blah, you
get the idea. But if you don't know characters, creatures, or big plot
ideas from the books, the movies, or common Harry Potter grapevines, they
are ours and please do not touch.
I'm writing this story with krenyaalenak.
Chapter 4
From a Good to a Bad Quidditch Start
Chapter 4
Oliver went down into the changing room and looked around. It was a beautiful day to start practicing. He would for sure beat Flint this year. Flint, he wasn't going to get the cup this year, Oliver was going to keep it away from him. He turned around at the noise behind him. It was Angelina, Alicia and Katie. He smiled. "Good you're up. That's wonderful."
They smiled, and Katie spoke. "Did we have to do this so early in the morning?"
"It's not early. We're getting off to a late start. Where are Fred, George and Harry."
"We are present and accounted for, sir." Fred and George stood at the door, saluting him.
"Great, have a seat." The twins sat down. Finally Harry came into the changing room. For some reason everyone looked tired. Oliver wasn't sure why. Oh well, they'd be all right as soon as they got into the spirit of things. "There you are, Harry, what kept you?" He had assumed Harry would have been down right away; surely his Seeker was excited. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make all the difference." Oliver held up a diagram of a Quidditch field. He was very proud of this diagram; it had taken him three days to perfect it. He took out his wand and tapped the board, and he waited until the arrows started moving around. He explained the diagram, his words coming more quickly as he continued. Now everyone would be excited. He pulled another board out and started on that one. Too soon that was done, and now here was the exciting part, the third board. He finished explaining that one. Everyone should be very excited now. "So, is that clear? Any questions?"
"I've got a question, Oliver," George said. "Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"
Awake? They weren't awake. That meant they hadn't listened. "Now, listen here, you lot. We should have won the Quidditch cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately-owing to circumstances beyond our control-" Oliver paused. He hadn't quite gotten over that. His family kept telling him that it didn't matter, but they just didn't understand. Why did Harry have to choose to be a hero then? Why couldn't Quirrell have picked the summer to get the stone for You-Know-Who? And didn't You-Know- Who understand that he couldn't just go and decide to try to come back at just any time? They should have been more considerate. Oh well, gotta focus on the here and now. "So this year, we train harder than ever before. Okay, let's go and put our new theories into practice!" he shouted.
He grabbed his broomstick and headed out of the locker rooms.
------------------------------------------------
He breathed in the wonderful, warming air on the pitch. The team got on their brooms and started flying. Then Oliver saw a small boy taking pictures. "What's going on?" He frowned and headed towards Harry, Fred, and George. "Why's that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training program."
"He's in Gryffindor," Harry quickly told him.
"And the Slytherins don't need a spy, Oliver," said George.
Of course Flint needed a spy. Why wouldn't he? The slimy Slytherin was trying to ruin Oliver's life. "What makes you say that?"
"Because they're here in person." George pointed down to a group of guys in green robes walking onto the field with broomsticks.
"I don't believe it! I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"
He zoomed down to the ground. He landed a little hard, but he wasn't going to let Flint see that, so he walked, staggering a bit. Harry, Fred and George were behind him. "Flint! This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!" What was he going to say to that?
Flint continued walking, smirking. "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."
Oliver's Chasers came over too. "But I booked the field!" Oliver snapped. "I booked it!"
"Ah." Flint smirked again. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"
What? "You're got a new Seeker? Where?" Oliver started looking at all the players. However, he recognized all of them. Then a smaller boy came out from behind the other players.
"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred said, looking at Malfoy with dislike.
Flint stood up a little taller. "Funny you should mention Draco's father." He smiled. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team." The team held out seven brand-new brooms, the seven highly-polished handles ornamented by fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One on it. Oliver had dreamt of having that broom. Last night, he actually had it in his hands until Flint came and yanked it away; that was when he had woken up. And now Flint was talking again, his misshapen teeth flashing in a sneer. "Very latest model. Only came out last month." Flint flicked a speck of dust from the end of the broomstick that should have been Oliver's. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps-" He looked at Fred and George, who owned and held such brooms. "-sweeps the board with them." Flint smirked. Oliver could have wiped that smile off the lousy troll's face. Flint glanced past him. "Oh, look, a field invasion."
Ron and Hermione came over. "What's happening? Why aren't you playing?
And what's he doing here?" Ron said, looking at Malfoy.
Malfoy looked at him smugly, and said, "I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team." The Slytherins' smirks couldn't have been any bigger. "Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them." The Slytherins started laughing.
Hermione spoke up. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent." Well, everyone was right, this girl was smart.
Malfoy stared at her. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."
He couldn't believe what Malfoy had just said. Flint dived in front of Malfoy to protect the little wimp, who probably couldn't play Quidditch, from Fred and George. Oliver heard Alicia shriek, "How dare you!" And Ron took his wand out, pointed it under Flint's arm, and yelled, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Suddenly, green light shot at Ron and sent sprawling him backwards on the grass.
Hermione ran to him. "Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" Ron opened his mouth to speak; instead, slugs slid out. The Slytherins started laughing. Flint, the jerk, was holding onto his broom for support. Malfoy was on the ground like the dog he was. How dare the Slytherins interrupt his practice.
Then Harry spoke. "We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's the nearest." And with that, Hermione and Harry took Ron and headed off.
Oliver stared. How could Harry have just left practice? Ron and Hermione could've very easily managed to get to Hagrid's by themselves. He couldn't believe it.
Then Flint stood up. "Well, thanks for the entertainment, Wood."
"Flint," Oliver growled, stepping forward, his hand curling into a fist.
"I'd save myself if I were you, Wood. You're going to need all your strength at the game, especially since we're going to beat you."
"Ha. In your lifetime. Now excuse us, but we have to practice."
"After us, of course. Don't forget Professor Snape gave us permission."
Oliver gritted his teeth. "Fine. Besides, we don't obviously need as much practice as you do."
"You're right. You need more."
Oliver started forward again, but Katie grabbed his arm. "Oliver, let's just go." She said. "We can't beat a note from Snape. You know that."
"Yes, Wood. Go listen to your little girls."
"Shut up Flint," Alicia snapped.
"Now everyone's helping. Can't stand up for yourself, can you?"
Oliver breathed deeply. "Flint, I'd be careful if I were you. We're going to beat you at the next game."
"If you say so."
"Considering our seeker is much better than your new one, I do say so. Besides, you against my chasers? I don't think so."
Flint shrugged. "Whatever you say." With that, he and the rest of the Slytherin team took off into the air.
Oliver spun and stomped away. "Oliver, we can practice another time," Angelina said.
Fred elbowed her, "Way to go, Ang. Give him more ideas."
"Oh, shut up, Fred."
"Oliver-"
"I think we need to go over strategy again."
I'm writing this story with krenyaalenak.
Chapter 4
From a Good to a Bad Quidditch Start
Chapter 4
Oliver went down into the changing room and looked around. It was a beautiful day to start practicing. He would for sure beat Flint this year. Flint, he wasn't going to get the cup this year, Oliver was going to keep it away from him. He turned around at the noise behind him. It was Angelina, Alicia and Katie. He smiled. "Good you're up. That's wonderful."
They smiled, and Katie spoke. "Did we have to do this so early in the morning?"
"It's not early. We're getting off to a late start. Where are Fred, George and Harry."
"We are present and accounted for, sir." Fred and George stood at the door, saluting him.
"Great, have a seat." The twins sat down. Finally Harry came into the changing room. For some reason everyone looked tired. Oliver wasn't sure why. Oh well, they'd be all right as soon as they got into the spirit of things. "There you are, Harry, what kept you?" He had assumed Harry would have been down right away; surely his Seeker was excited. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make all the difference." Oliver held up a diagram of a Quidditch field. He was very proud of this diagram; it had taken him three days to perfect it. He took out his wand and tapped the board, and he waited until the arrows started moving around. He explained the diagram, his words coming more quickly as he continued. Now everyone would be excited. He pulled another board out and started on that one. Too soon that was done, and now here was the exciting part, the third board. He finished explaining that one. Everyone should be very excited now. "So, is that clear? Any questions?"
"I've got a question, Oliver," George said. "Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"
Awake? They weren't awake. That meant they hadn't listened. "Now, listen here, you lot. We should have won the Quidditch cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately-owing to circumstances beyond our control-" Oliver paused. He hadn't quite gotten over that. His family kept telling him that it didn't matter, but they just didn't understand. Why did Harry have to choose to be a hero then? Why couldn't Quirrell have picked the summer to get the stone for You-Know-Who? And didn't You-Know- Who understand that he couldn't just go and decide to try to come back at just any time? They should have been more considerate. Oh well, gotta focus on the here and now. "So this year, we train harder than ever before. Okay, let's go and put our new theories into practice!" he shouted.
He grabbed his broomstick and headed out of the locker rooms.
------------------------------------------------
He breathed in the wonderful, warming air on the pitch. The team got on their brooms and started flying. Then Oliver saw a small boy taking pictures. "What's going on?" He frowned and headed towards Harry, Fred, and George. "Why's that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training program."
"He's in Gryffindor," Harry quickly told him.
"And the Slytherins don't need a spy, Oliver," said George.
Of course Flint needed a spy. Why wouldn't he? The slimy Slytherin was trying to ruin Oliver's life. "What makes you say that?"
"Because they're here in person." George pointed down to a group of guys in green robes walking onto the field with broomsticks.
"I don't believe it! I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"
He zoomed down to the ground. He landed a little hard, but he wasn't going to let Flint see that, so he walked, staggering a bit. Harry, Fred and George were behind him. "Flint! This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!" What was he going to say to that?
Flint continued walking, smirking. "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."
Oliver's Chasers came over too. "But I booked the field!" Oliver snapped. "I booked it!"
"Ah." Flint smirked again. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"
What? "You're got a new Seeker? Where?" Oliver started looking at all the players. However, he recognized all of them. Then a smaller boy came out from behind the other players.
"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred said, looking at Malfoy with dislike.
Flint stood up a little taller. "Funny you should mention Draco's father." He smiled. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team." The team held out seven brand-new brooms, the seven highly-polished handles ornamented by fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One on it. Oliver had dreamt of having that broom. Last night, he actually had it in his hands until Flint came and yanked it away; that was when he had woken up. And now Flint was talking again, his misshapen teeth flashing in a sneer. "Very latest model. Only came out last month." Flint flicked a speck of dust from the end of the broomstick that should have been Oliver's. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps-" He looked at Fred and George, who owned and held such brooms. "-sweeps the board with them." Flint smirked. Oliver could have wiped that smile off the lousy troll's face. Flint glanced past him. "Oh, look, a field invasion."
Ron and Hermione came over. "What's happening? Why aren't you playing?
And what's he doing here?" Ron said, looking at Malfoy.
Malfoy looked at him smugly, and said, "I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team." The Slytherins' smirks couldn't have been any bigger. "Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them." The Slytherins started laughing.
Hermione spoke up. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent." Well, everyone was right, this girl was smart.
Malfoy stared at her. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."
He couldn't believe what Malfoy had just said. Flint dived in front of Malfoy to protect the little wimp, who probably couldn't play Quidditch, from Fred and George. Oliver heard Alicia shriek, "How dare you!" And Ron took his wand out, pointed it under Flint's arm, and yelled, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Suddenly, green light shot at Ron and sent sprawling him backwards on the grass.
Hermione ran to him. "Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" Ron opened his mouth to speak; instead, slugs slid out. The Slytherins started laughing. Flint, the jerk, was holding onto his broom for support. Malfoy was on the ground like the dog he was. How dare the Slytherins interrupt his practice.
Then Harry spoke. "We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's the nearest." And with that, Hermione and Harry took Ron and headed off.
Oliver stared. How could Harry have just left practice? Ron and Hermione could've very easily managed to get to Hagrid's by themselves. He couldn't believe it.
Then Flint stood up. "Well, thanks for the entertainment, Wood."
"Flint," Oliver growled, stepping forward, his hand curling into a fist.
"I'd save myself if I were you, Wood. You're going to need all your strength at the game, especially since we're going to beat you."
"Ha. In your lifetime. Now excuse us, but we have to practice."
"After us, of course. Don't forget Professor Snape gave us permission."
Oliver gritted his teeth. "Fine. Besides, we don't obviously need as much practice as you do."
"You're right. You need more."
Oliver started forward again, but Katie grabbed his arm. "Oliver, let's just go." She said. "We can't beat a note from Snape. You know that."
"Yes, Wood. Go listen to your little girls."
"Shut up Flint," Alicia snapped.
"Now everyone's helping. Can't stand up for yourself, can you?"
Oliver breathed deeply. "Flint, I'd be careful if I were you. We're going to beat you at the next game."
"If you say so."
"Considering our seeker is much better than your new one, I do say so. Besides, you against my chasers? I don't think so."
Flint shrugged. "Whatever you say." With that, he and the rest of the Slytherin team took off into the air.
Oliver spun and stomped away. "Oliver, we can practice another time," Angelina said.
Fred elbowed her, "Way to go, Ang. Give him more ideas."
"Oh, shut up, Fred."
"Oliver-"
"I think we need to go over strategy again."