The Closest Thing Chapter 4: Death to teenyboppers
"You're the beauty that is deeper, than eyes can merely see. The closest thing to perfect, but the farthest thing from me." The great Oliver Wood finds the girl of his dreams the only problem is she despises him. Can he win her over or will she forever judge him by his faults instead of the beauty the lies beneath?
Disclaimer: I do not own anything about this except for those characters, places, and themes not present in any of JKR's books
I arrived at charms pretty late, due to the fact that it was located on the utterly opposite side of the school. Luckily though, Ana was able to secure our normal seats that we've had every year since…. forever. The rest of my class ushered in quickly behind me and we were silent as Flitwick began the lesson.
Being a single, as us upper classes call it, I was looking forward to getting out of there quickly. Once you reach 6th year, you are required to take three classes of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, and History. One day you had it singularly, which was a lecture day, the next time class meet it was back to back and was a learning day, where they taught new spells, charms, potions which were always hands on.
Since Charms was the one exception to this rule, we always had singles, which I don't believe to be too awfully bad, as it wasn't that interesting of a class. Sure we got to learn new spells and charms, but the reports that came afterwards were taxing and dreadfully boring. Today's class was simply a review of last year's material. "Class please summon one of these quills," professor Flitwick said in his normal squeaky mousy voice as he set out a set of quills on his oversized desk.
I sighed and looked at Ana and rolled my eyes upward and quickly did the charm. In true slacker fashion, the rest of the class had troubles doing the wand work so Ana and me started to talk. I told her how I was stuck with loser boy in potions.
"And to add insult to injury he said he doesn't know me, even though was complete ass to me when I transferred. How can you not remember someone you tortured relentlessly for 2 months?" I ranted. "I think the question is more how can you remember one person you tortured relentlessly for 2 months from the 200 you tortured adamantly for years? Isn't it better that he forgot about you and then play stupid pranks on you for the last year and half?" "Yeah, I suppose, but that still doesn't make me not want to bash his head in with a broom." I said sarcastically as Flitwick began to start something new. I slouched back in my chair somewhat angry that Ana had come out right once again and I waited boredly for the end of charms.
After we had finally been given the signal to leave, I was finally able to pack up my stuff, and set off to lunch. Lunch was notoriously the hour of the forgotten homework. We'd grab quick something from the great hall and then head for the library. As we got to the library, we noticed a bunch of first years in our seat, and after considering our rights and responsibilities as the seventh years, we decided not to force them out like the rest of the haughty kids in our year, and instead chose a small table between the W and X section.
I was just about to start in my potions essay when the jerk of the hour started walking towards me. "Martin." He said nodding in my direction like the over confident 1950's greaser wanna be that I knew deep inside he wanted to be. It was of course the quote on quote-great Oliver Wood, in case it was that hard to forget his name. I looked at Ana, and she just raised her eyebrows and stared back down at her arithmetic book.
He smiled this smirky half grin, down at me and said hello. I just stared out at him like he was insane. He seemed nervous as he started to speak in his rustic Scottish voice. "Umm…sorry to bother you …but..um.. I was wondering what you want to do about the potions essay?" I was very confused at this moment and it wasn't till he tried to explain that it was a partner essay did I realize how awful Snape was. "Didn't you hear him say that you have to work with your partner?" he said questioning me, I nodded my head slowly. No wanting to admit that a quidditch player, a jock no less, was smarter than me and or even knew something that I didn't. "I just thought I'd do the first foot of parchment, from about 1682-1880 and that you'd do from 1880 to now." I stated evenly and somewhat coldly, smiling wickedly inside my brain at my quick thinking. 'Ten points for not seeming like an idiot in front of the king of the morons!' "You can do that can't you?" I said asking in a way that perhaps might have sounded like I was saying his competency level was comparative to... say ...an ant. "aye.. that's fine…just wasn't sure at first…well see you later I suppose." He simply said as he turned and headed out the door.
Ana and I both stared after him in shock. "See you later?" I asked Ana. "Did he not guess through my irritated tone, my horrible body language, and overall demeanor that I despise him to the depths of his overly quiddtch obsessed soul?" "I thought you were quite cool, boarding on the realm of ice queen." She said matter of factly. "If I was him I certainly would be running off somewhere to hide from él Martín." She said saying my name with a Spanish flare. I laughed out right, earning a glance from Madam Pince.
It wasn't a scowl that most students received; Madam Pince wasn't mean as most students actually thought. She is quite pleasant actually; we had joined her for tea on several occasions when I first arrived and she always offers us sweets when we go to see her on the weekends. She merely keeps up the stern librarian façade for the purpose of getting her books back on time. A clever disguise if I ever saw one.
The bell prevented us from getting into any more trouble so we both scattered out though the wide stone archways towards the first floor. We walked quickly down the marble steps and ran the extra bit into McGonagall's classroom luckily right before she herself walked in.
The afternoon passed quickly through Transfiguration and Ancient Runes, both with whom I noticed with displeasure with Wood and his cronies. The Fab 5 the called themselves, which reminded me more of a bunch of screaming teenyboppers, then the pack of jocks and pranksters they were.
The group consisted of Percy Weasley, the resident nerd to most, but to my over observant self it was clear that he was the mastermind behind his ghoulish troops. Aldan Bishop and Gavin Randall, the original pranksters and slacker members of the five, were the head of the Gryffindor prank squad (my wording, of course there is no such thing) with such known admirers as George and Fred Weasley, who adamantly tried, with out succession, to claim the role as king of the prank. After those notorious swindlers came Landon Harris, the one and the only Gryffindor man-whore, with his pretty boy face, wavy locks and I admit totally ripped abs he was a one-man party (that is of course if you didn't mind his level 2 IQ). Lastly of course was Oliver Wood himself, the big dumb jock plain and simple. For years they had indulged in the life of the great as Gryffindor's 'nice guys.' Now in there last year I couldn't wait to see what these five were going to lynch off others in the real world. I personally knew that they wouldn't amount to more than hobos so I was content in my status below them on the Hogwarts totem pole. Not a loser, but not a slime bucket, chalks one up to being average.
Regardless of the jocks that encompassed my class I was quite glad with my Monday. It ended with a remarkable meal of roast beef and potatoes, a far cry from easy mac. (Since we had moved to England, we have yet to buy new cookware, my mother seemed to think that the pots and pans that got lost in route to London would turn up any day so Easy mac was pretty much the only thing we could make.)
The rest of the night was spent working on my half of the aforementioned potions essay and other assorted homework at my desk in the dormitory. Ana was off in the library so I really didn't have anyone to talk to. The rest of the girls in my year were downstairs in the common room. They asked me to come study with them, like they have every year since I got here, but I politely declined like always. The common room is far to busy and noisy for homework and more accustomed to socialization. It was nice and cozy with my small candle alight on my small desk area and I found the silence somewhat comforting as I slowly and carefully completed everyone piece of homework, a definite first. By the time it was nine I was changed into a pair of sweats and a tee and curled up with my copy of Catcher in the Rye in my feather bed where I slowly drifted off to sleep…
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A/N: not sure if they have easy mac in England and the scheduling of classes at Hogwarts so I sort of made up my based on many theories created my own idea of what it might have been like. I know it might not be exactly correct so please forgive me ahead of time.. o ya and this paragraph form is really odd but my computer sucks and can't fix it so i guess you all are stuck with it