Doesn't It Say Characters Lastingly Are Inaccurately Mine, Ever Rowlings'?

I'm sure you've guessed by now that italics are Oliver's thoughts/musings, but just to remind you if you've forgotten.

Red – The Senses

See Thursday

Oliver opened his eyes to see sunlight pouring in through the window. He edged it opened to feel very cool air brushing past him despite the bright sunlight. After closing the window, he wondered back to lie on his bed, picking up the piece of paper on his nightstand that contained his pre-match speech he had written the previous year. Maybe Fred and George will know it by now. He ran through it a couple of times, before it came back to be fixed in his memory, before dressing and heading down to breakfast.

Walking into the aroma of delicious food the house elves had been slaving over, Oliver went to sit with the twins and the girls. He joined in picking pieces of toast to pieces, reducing them to crumbs while scoffing an odd mouthful when they were staring at him to set an example. Every now and then, he looked down the table to see Harry with a slightly green-around-the-edges look about him whilst Hermione was coaxing him to eat some breakfast.

By eleven o'clock he could hear the school assemble in the stands and he felt that familiar soaring sensation he got right before a match. He paced up and down in front of his team clad in their Gryffindor robes, preparing them for the match.

"Ok, men." He said. Hmm, I sound rather like a warrior, leading my army into battle on the misty grounds of -.

"And women." Angelina interrupted his heroic delusions to remind him that his team did not just consist of males.

"And women," he agreed. Yes, my chasers are definitely female. "This is it."

"The big one." Damn it, they have memorised The Speech. Think quick, Oliver, think quick.

"The one we've all been waiting for." No, George was quicker.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Maybe Fred has got a little too used to stage whispering, "we were on the team last year." Oooh, feisty comeback time…

"Shut up you two," Oh well done, Oliver, "this is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it." Or else. Judging by the look on his seeker's face, he had either said that out loud, or was glaring death glares at his team. Judging by Angelina and Alicia's uninterrupted nattering about whether Cedric Diggory had a fitter body than their respective twin, Oliver guessed the latter possibility. Distract, Oliver, distract. "Right its time good luck, all of you."

His body was tingling all over, trying to push the dream out of his head. Don't worry about Katie, she's a big girl, she can take care of herself. He looked over at Katie with a look in his eyes and was rewarded by a winning, if not slightly nervous, smile. He flew out onto the pitch; his stomach gave a jolt as Lee Jordan's voice belted out "Wood," over the stands. Circling around the pitch and above the crowds, Oliver's spirits rose as he took in the sea of crimson and gold screaming at the tops of their voices, holding banners proudly aloft in the air.

He grinned as he caught sight of Potter for President with an excellent illustration of a lion beneath it. The paint flashed a rainbow of colours though mainly red and gold, but never green or silver. Miss Granger really was bright for a first year. Madame Hooch's whistle blew.

"Now I want a nice fair game, all of you." Her looks seemed to aim for the Slytherins, but Oliver nodded anyway before he and Flint tried to break each other's fingers. He smirked when he caught sight of Flint twitching. "Mount your brooms please." The whistle shrieked again as the quaffle rose in the air and Lee Jordan began his commentary.

"And the quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor, what an excellent chaser that girl is and rather attractive too –"

"JORDAN!" McGonagall's voice interjected.

"Sorry Professor," Oliver distinctly caught the smile in Lee's voice, but his eyes were fixed to the progress of his chasers – Chaser Formation 6 was working well. "And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Wood's, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the quaffle. Let's hope that entire interception practice paid off.

"Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there," Oliver's heart pelted against his rib cage as Flint drew nearer. It's not an owl; it's a quaffle. The image of Flint carrying a fluffy owl nearly made him laugh out loud.

"He's going to sc-no stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Oliver Wood." Haha, Lee, glad you weren't up in the Owlery yesterday morning. Oliver tossed the ball back to Katie and smirked the trademark oh-well-maybe-next-time smirk as Flint growled back at him.

"Gryffindor take the quaffle – that's chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off and up the field and – ouch that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a bludger –" Oliver's broom jumped forward a bit as he gestured one of the twins. Whether he wanted them to go after Katie or the bludger he wasn't quite sure.

"Quaffle taken by Slytherin, that's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goal posts but he's blocked by a second bludger sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which –" Oliver gave a thumbs up to the twin as Angelina caught the red ball. "Nice play by the Gryffindor beater anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the quaffle. A clear field ahead and off she goes – she's really flying –" Yes, Lees, she is. That's chaser tactic 3 in play – you watch that bludger –

"Dodges a speeding bludger – the goal posts are ahead – come on now Angelina, the Slytherin Keeper dives, misses GRYFFINDOR SCORE! Oliver looked around at the cheering Gryffindor supporters while the Slytherins moaned and booed. Hang on, was that Harry, moving over onto the main pitch? That's NOT what we agreed on, if I remember rightly, I told him to "keep out of the way until you catch sight of the snitch. We don't want you getting attacked before you have to be –

"Slytherin in possession, chaser Pucey ducks two between two Weasleys and chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the snitch? Oliver's frown lines smoothed out as he realised Harry had gone after the snitch. Hang on, Harry after the snitch? We're going to win! Harry was diving down, We're going to win, Pucey dropped the quaffle, Slytherin seeker Terrence Higgs following Harry while the chasers abandoned their competition and hovered in mid air to watch. We're going to win! We're going to –

"FOUL!" A roar erupted from the crowds as Flint blocked Harry on purpose, making hi broom spin of course. Madam Hooch flew over to Flint as Alicia readied for a free shot. Lee, however, was still howling.

"So – after that obvious and disgusting but of cheating,"

Jordan," Oliver could tell Professor McGonagall was secretly pleased with Lee.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul," Lee tried again.

Jordan I'm warning you," Secretly really deep down.

"All right, all right," Lee had given up, "Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor taken by Spinnet who puts it away no trouble and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession."

I'm going to win. Harry dodged a bludger. I mean, we're going to win. Oliver's attention was fixed on his seeker and had zoned out Lee's commentary. Harry's broom suddenly gave a lurch, no one else had noticed maybe it was just an accident.

"Slytherin in possession – Flint with the quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes

Bell – hit hard in the face by a bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking professor – Slytherin score – oh no…"

Cheering brought Oliver back to the game; he turned expecting to see his chasers high-fiving each other down the far end of the pitch, but mentally swore when Flint was smirking at him. By now, both spectators and players were pointing to Harry's broom rolling over and over. Maybe it wasn't an accident. He waved his hands at the Weasleys again and signalled them to fly up to Harry. The broom gave a sudden jolt and Harry flew up again, this time only managing to clutch at his Nimbus, dangling by one hand. No, definitely not an accident.

Fred and George flew up, trying to get Harry to safety, but every time they got near to him, the broom jumped up higher into the air. They circled underneath him hoping to catch him if he fell when there was a scuffle in the teacher's stands. Oliver, however, was paying attention to Harry. He suddenly swung his leg over his now stilled broom and dived towards the ground. He hit the pitch on his hands and knees, the girls flew down to him – he looked like he was going to be sick. He coughed and the snitch fell out of his mouth into his hands, Harry yelling that he'd caught the snitch.

"Gryffindor win!" Echoed around the grounds despite, Flint's protests that Harry had not caught the snitch, he'd swallowed it.

On their way back to lessons after lunch, the Weasley twins halted the Gryffindor table, passing on the message:

"Party – Gryffindor common room, tonight."

Oliver felt a swoop as Katie's hand brushed his as he passed the note onto her, Angelina passing an identical note on the other side of the table.

He looked away from Katie's blushing cheeks. Red really was a pretty colour.

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