The Closest Thing Of Quidditch and Forgotten Homework
"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?
OW/OC rated pg-13 for language and just to be safe.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything about this except for those characters, places, and themes not present in any of JKR's books
The rest of the week went by rather slowly as I grew accustomed to Ana's constant absence in most of my classes. Everyday we shared only one class together, the rest were spent otherwise separated by our different interests. By the time I knew it it was Friday morning. It was one of those days that I just knew was going to end up being a no good horrible very bad day so I thought I might as well hide out under the covers till the day blew over. Unfortunately for me though, Ana coaxed me out with the promise of food.To my dismay,by the time I had found a clean shirt that was only partial wrinkledand tied my tie on wrong I was already late for potions. Any thoughts of warm scones were smothered by the thoughts of Snape and the gruesome Oliver Wood.
I was the last one to arrive, luckily before Snape himself and i exhasted from runningall the was proceeded toalmost physically threw myself in my wooden chair, causing it to creak with a disagreeable shudder as if to break for my impertinence. I sighed and propped my uniformed school bag against the leg of the table. My so called partner was busy making some Hufflepuff slut behind me flush and giggle incessantly as he obviously skirted around asking her out.
After about a minute or so I began to grow agitated with this. High-pitched giggling is one of my biggest pet peeves on days when I don't have gigantic migraines that make me feel like I got really drunk and got ran over by a delivery trunk but somehow don't remember, so it was needless to say today I was on ready to kill with whatever was most readily available. For I split millisecond I considered my quill as a viable option, but on the point of discovering its remarkably dull point I simply turned around in my chair to face the two.
"Look," I said regularly in a calm deadly voice that properly showed my willingness to beat them to a pulp. "He likes you, you like him, so stop with the inane giggling and just bloody find a time to shag that works for both of you and be done for Merlin's sake because you are seriously not helping my migraine from hell and if it doesn't get better because of the two of you incessantly twittering I swear by all the stars in the sky you will not make it through this class period so please if you have any brain cells in your inflated brains refrain from whatever it was you were doing."
The two looked at me like I had three heads spluttering out of my head (which suddenly made me wish I had three heads to give each 1/3 of my migraine and cut the pain. but anyways..) Of course on cue Snape slunk into the room glaring his eyes of steels, unfortunately at me. "Ms. Martin ten points from Gryffindor for an unseemly interruption to the start of my class." I simply shut my eyes briefly, trying to gain control of my thoughts because I knew I had neither the energy nor the stature to argue with this man.
He seemed not to care at all about how I would react in any case and instead asked to take out our essays to pass in. I reached into my bag and easily found the smooth parchment paper with my half of the work. I turned towards Oliver completely unaffected by my long lengthy rant towards him, though it seemed like he still was as he had a blush that covered his face completely like a man that had been dipped in Pepto Bismol. "so…" I said tiredly trying to get him to come out of his embarrassment. "Where's your half?" he looked even more sheepish towards me. I groaned out loud realizing he wasn't embarrassed about my speech but because he didn't have his half. "You stupid insolent jock, all you had to do was write a foot, a foot! If you couldn't manage your brain around it you should had the decency to tell me you weren't going to do it so I could have!" I whispered angrily at him. "You can't just waltz in here and make me fail because you are incompetent! If you spent less time in the air on a stupid broomstick and more time in the library, maybe you wouldn't be in this position! How can we hand in half a paper? There isn't a point!" I didn't notice that as I went I had steadily gotten louder and was now standing bearing over Oliver like I could choke him until he looked like a blueberry.
Snape hovered next to me frowning more than usual. "I know your other teachers look favorably upon because you are Gryffindor's, but I will not stand for these disruptions in my class not matter the house. Detention for both of you, I will owl you the date on which you should arrive." he stated coldly. I sat down, to angry to be embarrassed and slumped in my chair. I sighed 'and my mother wonders why I hate jocks.' I thought as Snape continued on.
I was grateful for a split second after we were released to be out of the dense air in the potions classroom until I realized that I had muggle studies the next period and I remembered how horrible it had been Tuesday. It wasn't because the class was particularly hard. In fact it was my best class. In America instead of offering muggle studies we are required to take our year prior to our enrollment in a muggle high school environment. We learn basic muggle skills and objects while taking a more in depth look at the culture, such as music, art, style, traditions. The kind of things you couldn't learn in schools from textbooks. Unfortunately for me, since my parents regarded divination as a worthless class they required me to take the course offered at Hogwarts, assuming that English and Americans would still be seen as different from a magical standpoint. This was proven depressingly inaccurate when I meet Professor Arundel for the first time.
Gruesomely old, Professor Arundel's face looked like it was being pulled towards the ground by some burly magnetic power force and he was gifted with small blurryeyes that were clear and souless like. His hair and thin with the grandfather comb over look and he was as equally monotone as he was forgetful, the fact that he remembered where his classroom was a surprise to me. Everyday he had to ask us what we had gone over the last class period because he simply had no clue what was actually going over. Not to mention he barely knew the material himself, just Tuesday he had to ask if we knew what a Laptop was, claiming that it wasn't taught in his school. Well of course his schooling was outdated and he wasn't up to date with modern technology he probably went to school before cars even existed. Today was certain to ring true.
I walked into the small classroom and took a seat in the left of the two neatly divided rows. Unlike the potions room, we had actually desks, which opened upwards on creaky hinges for storage of various materials. The particular one I had claimed was engraved vigorously on the insides by some obvious starry-eyed teenager with the initials CD plastered all over inside rather quirkily drawn hearts. I threw my textbook and a few quills inside and let go of the top, allowing it to snap back down creating a resounding echo that swept through the empty room. I was sadly the first one in the room, due to my enormous amounts of pent up anger, so my frustrations weren't heard by any living soul.
I sat there tapping my hands on the desk impatiently, silently kicking my self for my failed theory that the faster I did things that the faster the time would go by. Finally students from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor started to trickle in slowly and loudly. I grabbed my head and wished for Tylenol, pure and easy relief, magic cures were all potions and I've always felt more sick after taking them from the pure disgusting taste and the feel of rubber cement sliding down my throat. I will take my chance with a migraine any day.
As I waited for class to start, I noted the absence of my now archenemy of death and smiled hoping he had meet by a particularly disagreeable spider and meet his very own untimely death. My evil thoughts were killed the moment he trudged through the door. To my dark sides content, he looked down and out, as he should, so my smile remained on my face until he sat behind me next to Landon Harris.
Fifteen minutes later I was still glaring at the wall and wondering how long it takes a 70 old man to walk up one flight of stairs when I finally heard the door open slowly. I turned to see the horror that was Professor Arundel and was confronted with a younger man in his early 30's. He wasn't much taller then myself, with wavy auburn hair and deep green eyes as green as a lime. His face had nothing else particularly noticeable yet his face seemed to remind of something or someone that I just couldn't but my finger on…..
Have the second half of this written but I am evilly holding it hostage until such time as three reviews are nicely stored in my e-mail. Thus meaning the more you review the more likely I am to post the next part ME