Quidditch - There Is Nothing More Important
Another Girlfriend, More Training, and Who's A Good Captain
Everything you recognise belongs to JKR. Unfortunately.
Beta'd by Dorothea Greengrass and Thundercracker-TC much appreciated.
—Quidditch—
Lightning streaked across the iron grey sky, fat water leaden cumulonimbus clouds threatened overhead, and the air hung with violent potential.
Oliver gazed up at the tableau above him and cursed. He would have to cut the session short. Through the dim light he could barely see the end of his broom.
The sudden appearance of the quaffle just below and to the right of him almost took him by surprise. Oliver performed a sloth roll to snag the ball, then transitioned into a Bolivian Descent to put space between him and the attacking chasers.
"To the bleachers!" he called over his shoulder.
"Ollie! What the—" Angie screamed, apparently not impressed with his flying prowess.
The Bolivian Descent was an uncontrolled fall where you stopped flying but kept hold of your broom. At some point you 'hopefully' re-engage with your broom and level out. It was a difficult trick to master and allowed failure only once.
The team joined him when he had come to a halt under the Hufflepuff stands and Angelina, who had been closest to him at the time of his sloth roll, let her feelings known.
"Ollie! Don't do that! You scared the hell out of me! It's bad enough when Harry does it, but you aren't built like him. He's small enough that he might bounce, you definitely won't!"
Harry looked confused. "Hey! what do you mean by that?"
"Don't worry, Harry." Katie soothed him and rubbed his arm. "It just means that we're not fat."
Harry and the twins burst out in laughter, the rest gave Katie an affronted glare. She showed her maturity by sticking her tongue out at them.
Oliver pointedly ignored a fuming Angelina and a very smug looking Katie, and cleared his throat. "The heavens are about to open. I'm calling it, we can do some core work at the castle."
He received muttered praise and there was thanks to various gods, which he also ignored, re-mounted his broom and headed through the misty drifting rain to the quidditch locker rooms to dump his gear.
—Quidditch—
The change in weather conditions in the five minutes it took to stow their quidditch pads and brooms was stark; the heavens did indeed open. The team cast umbrella charms and water repelling charms to protect themselves from the worst of it, but even with these precautions there was a sizable puddle that pooled around their feet as they squelched inside.
"Bugger, it's as bad as it was before Christmas," Fred complained as he bent over and vigorously scrubbed his hair.
"Oi, Fred!" Angelina exclaimed as the spray hit her.
"Why do you care? you're already a big drip anyway. Also, how did you know I was Fred? I still don't know how you do it, even we get confused sometimes," Fred said with an amused glint in his eye.
"Keep your dirty boy water to yourself and I might tell you." Angelina smirked at him. She flicked her wand and all the excess water on her hair and soaked into her clothes was banished onto Fred.
Fred shrieked and jumped back. "Argh! that's bloody cold!" He drew his own wand, but George caught his wrist.
"Hey, spray your own girlfriend." George jabbed his twin in the ribs with a stiff finger.
"You better not spray me, that's definitely not my thing," Angelina said, "but I bet if you ask nicely, Allie might let you."
Alicia shoved her friend in the shoulder. "Angie, don't give him ideas. You know what these two are like, they'd think it's a good idea to team up."
Fred's face lit up with glee. "What a good idea!"
George clamped a hand over his twins mouth. "Later, Freddy, the kids are too innocent for this kind of banter," he warned his brother.
The eyes of the twins swivelled to the youngest two of the group.
Harry stared at them suspiciously, but Katie had narrowed her eyes dangerously, her hand inched towards her wand pocket.
"Right," Oliver said loudly. "Here and now is definitely not the place for this conversation, possibly nowhere and never is the place to finish it. Let's go to our room and get this over with. Dry yourself off, Fred, you look a bit damp."
Fred threw his captain a dirty look.
The hike through the corridors and up the stairs had entertainment in the form of bickering between Angelina and Fred. It wore on Oliver's nerves the longer it went on. Clearly, Harry and Katie had thought so too. When Oliver turned around to tell Angie and Fred to cut it out, the young couple had disappeared from their position at the back of the group.
He almost went back to search for the wayward pair, but George stopped him and muttered to him that Harry and Katie would be there first.
"How do you know that?" Oliver asked him over the noise of a full blown argument.
George's eyebrows shot up in astonishment. "You've been in this castle for six and a half years and you haven't accidentally stumbled on any shortcuts or passageways that weren't there before?"
"Not really, although I haven't been looking. Why, are there a few?" Oliver replied with a shrug.
"Harry has known about most of them since first year. For God sake! Oi, Fred didn't you show Ollie some passageways a few years ago?" George turned to his brother, interrupting Angelina mid-tirade.
"I tried but he got lost in the same tunnel twice, so I gave up. Pretty crap sense of direction our fearless leader has." Fred said, a slight frown on his face. Apparently he didn't like the interruption of his dispute with Angelina and turned back to her immediately. "Listen, Angie darling, I know that you don't find me funny all the time, but that does mean that you do at least some of the time, yeah?"
Ollie winced. That sounded very condescending. He got ready to draw his wand and cast a shield charm, just in case mount Angelina erupted.
Angelina threw her arm into the air and stomped off.
Oliver let his guard down and relaxed.
Fred chuckled to himself and moved into the space that Angelina had vacated, he slid an arm across Alicia's shoulders.
"Allie, when we're done, how about we go find that broom closet on the seventh floor that Kennedy was telling me about?" Fred murmured into her ear just loud enough for Oliver to hear.
Alicia shoved his hand away and took a step to the side.
"Don't come creeping over to me after your entertainment has gone. You caused that argument, Fred, I didn't think you were that funny either. Go find that broom closet and play with yourself, they're cramped and uncomfortable anyway."
Alicia stomped after Angelina and Fred kept pace with her, his features uncharacteristically serious.
"Hang on, Allie, what's this about? We were just joking. She knows I'm not being serious," Fred said.
"Just leave it, Fred. I don't want to talk about it. You keep pushing buttons until someone explodes and gives you the reaction you're looking for." Alicia glared at him and increased her pace.
"Fred!" George called.
"Eh?" Fred twisted to look at his twin.
"Leave it, mate, you know it's not worth it when their knickers are in a twist." George said.
"Hey, she started it, was I supposed to back down?" Fred defended himself with an expression of mock-offence.
"Yeah, you were." George muttered quietly.
Oliver remained silent. He knew from long experience that it wasn't wise to interfere with one of the rare disagreements between the twins, and that it was futile to make Fred see reason when he was in this mood. While he agreed with his chasers and should reign Fred in to prevent trouble for the team, he'd let George handle his twin for the time being.
—Quidditch—
Oliver rounded the final corner to the abandoned classroom he had claimed in first year for anything that involved quidditch and almost ran into the backs of Alicia and Angelina, who had stopped in their tracks and giggled at the scene in front of them.
Harry sat on the floor, leant against the door, with his legs splayed out in front of him, and Katie sat in his lap. They were far too busy making out to notice the rest of the team's arrival.
Alicia sighed. It sounded wistful, and Angelina put her hand on her friend's shoulder in a consoling gesture, while the corners of her mouth twitched.
Oliver cleared his throat. "How the hell did you two beat us here?" he called loudly.
The lovebirds jumped apart. The back of Harry's head hit the door with a sound that resounded through the hallway, while Katie jumped back so hard she landed flat on her back and gaped at him like a fish. Those two were so sweet together that you could get a sugar high just by watching them.
Fred and George sniggered.
Katie had recovered enough to glare at him, although her cheeks pinked. "Ollie! Don't scare me like that! Where the hell did you get to? We've been here for ages and I got bored."
Angelina huffed. It sounded very close to a snort, and she offered her friend a hand up. Harry had rolled to his side while clutching the back of his head, he gave his head one final rub then pushed himself to his feet.
"You have the attention span of a bored gnat, Katie," Angelina said and hauled her friend up. "You're like me and Allie, no patience, all action. I bet you were kissing him before you even got here."
Harry blushed, and the team laughed. Oliver flicked his wand to open the door.
Alicia glanced at Oliver and grinned.
He braced himself for the quip that was going to come if he knew anything about the girl.
"Keepers are patient, they can wait. I hate keeping, keepers are boring." Alicia said in a loud stage-whisper.
Oliver stared at her with narrowed eyes. Now she's done it. Insult Oliver Wood all you like, but stay away from quidditch in general and keepers in particular, and he would exact his revenge.
"You might want to tuck your skirts into your socks there, Allie. You get to do the exercises upside down," he told his chaser in his best impersonation of Professor McGonagall when she handed out detentions, thick Scottish burr included.
Angelina and Katie sniggered. They'd been the last one to suffer his preferred punishment and now knew better than to provoke him. For now.
Alicia groaned.
"Damn it, I forgot about that." She made a motion across her mouth as if zipping it shut.
Satisfied with his demonstration of authority, Oliver pushed open the door and entered the classroom, the team behind him. With another flick of his wand the furniture scattered around the room slid against a wall and left a big space in the centre.
The team knew the drill by now, they had already pulled their robes off and chose their preferred patch of stone.
Oliver shrugged out of his robes and pointed his wand towards the far corner.
Music reverberated throughout the room, a driving beat which had Katie twitch in time and George to nod like a chicken on drugs. Harry bounced on his toes, and Fred flicked his forefingers. Angelina stood with her head bowed and eyes closed.
"I love this song, how did you get a CD player to work, Ollie?" she asked.
Oliver was the last to join the circle of teenagers who bopped in place.
"Ah, Quidditch captains' trade secret. It's part of the charter." He smirked at her. "Are we all ready?"
He received six nods in return. At least Oliver assumed that George was nodding, it was hard to tell, he still bopped his head. He flicked his wand one last time and the entire team found themselves with their feet firmly planted on the ceiling. Arms and hair dangled straight down.
" Hey! Ollie, you prat!"
"Argh…"
"What the fuck—"
A chorus of yells, grunts, curses and insults were voiced from everyone, apart from Angelina, who settled for a solid glare.
"Bloody hell, I thought you were joking!" Alica exclaimed, her glare matched Angelina's.
"It was too good an idea to pass up." He smirked. Sometimes, it felt really good to be the quidditch captain. "Let's get to work! Make sure you touch your toes. Let's start with a hundred. The first one finished will get a longer recovery." Oliver smirked again and reached for his laces.
"One."
—Quidditch—
"Ten more!" Oliver panted some minutes later.
Groans and moans greeted his pronouncement and the team lurched into motion again.
What Oliver had mislabelled as a core work had turned into a full set of callisthenics.
The one hundred upside down sit ups was the beginning of the torture.
The gasps and red faces reflected the effort it took to defy gravity.
"Twenty Russian Twists," Oliver panted, while he held a hand to his side.
With a collective grunt, motion began. Sweat streaked up their bodies, darkened quidditch jerseys stuck to backs, matted hair clung to faces and got tangled in fingers.
"Enough, Ollie, I've got to sort my hair out." Katie gasped. "Can we move on?"
"Yeah, you're not meant to be upside down for long, anyway." Oliver agreed.
Each player pulled their wand and adopted different tactics to get down.
"Hold my leg, Harry." Katie said.
Harry reached up and grasped her thigh. She freed his feet, and he lowered himself to the ground. He readjusted his hold on her, and she released her own feet. Harry twisted her around until she was the right way up again.
Alicia watched them and glanced at Fred.
Oliver and Angelina used Wingardium Leviosa on each other. They each spun like a top and were down safely. George took the athletic route. He released the magic and tried to flip onto his feet.
He almost managed it, too. However, he wasn't a cat. Landing on his feet proved more difficult than he had considered.
"Ow!" he called from the floor, face down.
Fred couldn't do anything, he was laughing so hard. He swayed and rocked so hard that he almost head butted Alicia.
"Watch it, Fred!" she exclaimed with a glare.
George half rolled over, an annoyed look on his face. He flicked his wand, and Fred almost landed on his head. He got his arms in position at the last moment and balanced in a perfect handstand for a second.
Then he toppled over backward and landed across George.
"Ow." Fred said.
"Yeah," Greorge agreed.
"Katie?" Alicia pleaded to her friend.
Katie tugged on Harry's sleeve and they stood on either side of her and eased her to the ground.
"You two okay?" Oliver asked the two clowns on the ground, his voice unamused.
"Yeah," George sighed as he tried to push himself up.
"No," Oliver said. "Stay there, we've got push ups next anyway."
When the players had all adopted the plank position Oliver didn't say anything.
A minute passed, everyone held the position, and no one spoke.
Alicia and Angelina looked at Oliver.
George and Fred gasped and wheezed.
Katie's gaze flicked up and down again.
Oliver watched Harry, he forced stillness as his limbs trembled.
It was only when Harry looked up, did Oliver speak.
"Twenty, then twenty wides."
Alicia huffed. Oliver knew she really hated push ups. It was only Harry who claimed to like them.
"Twenty archers, then diamonds, and we're done."
The room stunk of sweat and effort by now. Oliver felt his nose crinkle at his own musk.
George flipped onto his back and they were all done.
The team lay still and recovered.
"Ten burpees, ten mountain climbers. We're doing a pyramid." Oliver said.
He was surprised there were no comments. No one liked burpees.
"Ten."
—Quidditch—
"Angie?" Harry groaned as he shuffled through the portrait tunnel.
"Hmmm?" She grunted from ahead.
"Can you tell Ollie that I think he's trying to kill me," Harry said.
Angelina glanced over her shoulder. "Why can't you tell him yourself?"
"Because we're not on speaking terms anymore," Harry said.
Sniggers and muttered "too right," from the rest of his team greeted his seekers announcement. Oliver, who was just behind Angelina, smirked at them over his shoulder.
"Yeah, tell him I'm committing mutiny the next time we go to that bloody room." George collapsed on to the nearest sofa. It hadn't been unoccupied, and the putout second years complained bitterly as they were bounced up.
"Sorry, kiddies but my needs are greater than yours," George said, his voice muffled as he slumped sideways and buried his face into a pillow.
"Move, or I'll sit on your head," Fred said to his brother. When there was no response he jabbed a finger into George's ribs, who shot up with a cry of pain.
Angelina and Alicia quickly sat on either side of George before Fred could move and smirked up at him.
Fred gaped down at them, for once without a witty remark.
"If you're not fast you're last, Freddy boy." Alicia's smirk became wider as she looked up at him.
With a pained humph, Fred folded like a wet flag and sat on the floor.
"Was all that necessary, Ollie?" Harry asked from his chosen position. He had sat at a homework table, face planted on the desk, and stared blankly at Katie's leg after she hoisted herself up to sit on the desk beside him.
"Of course it was, you'll thank me tomorrow," Oliver said. He patted Harry on the side of his head and made his painful way to the staircase. He doubted that anyone would thank him the next morning, he was already stiff and sore all over, and tomorrow would be even worse.
Ron wandered down the stairs from the boys' dorms and noticed Harry on the table. He walked over and regarded the scene.
"Ollie is sat on the stairs laughing, or maybe he was crying. Did he make you jump around again?" he asked.
The entire team nodded as one.
"Pain." Fred said from the floor.
"I hurt," Harry said from the tabletop.
"Chess?" Ron asked him.
"Okay, but you'll have to get Katie to move and put the pieces in my mouth," Harry said.
"No." Katie groaned. She had laid back on the table, an arm across her face.
"Sorry, Ron," Harry muttered as his eyes closed.
"Maybe Seamus wants to play. By the way Harry, have you seen Scabbers? I can't find him anywhere," Ron asked, concern written on his face.
—Quidditch—
"Ollie?" Harry called to his captain from across the table the next morning at breakfast.
"Yes Harry?" Oliver scrunched up his face and held a hand against his stomach. Maybe he should just whisper today.
"I hate you," Harry told him and turned back to his breakfast.
"Hate's a strong word," Hermione said. She sounded like a chiding older sister.
"No, it isn't," George muttered, and slowly lowered himself onto the bench beside her.
—Quidditch—
Fred and George were sat at one of the large study tables in the Gryffindor common room, hunched over a piece of parchment and were deep in conversation when Oliver approached.
"...if we put the illusion here—" Fred cut himself off and looked up. "Hi Ollie, you need something?"
"Another prank? Who's your target this time?" Oliver asked. He shouldn't encourage them, but he could feel the corners of his mouth twitch.
"Ask us no questions—" Fred began..
"—and we will tell you no lies." George finished his brother's sentence. "Plus, we won't have to tell you that we found out the rest of the scum who cursed Freddy. He's still complaining that his left leg hurts."
"Ah, need any help?" Oliver asked. Scratch the part about not encouraging the twins. This was payback for an attack on the team, he would help wherever he could.
"Not this time, we've already asked Lee. It's more his thing than the upstanding-pillar-of-the-community Quidditch Captain." George grinned up at his captain. "We won't forget your kind offer, however. What did you need?"
"Couldn't get the pitch booked for this week. Block booked by the Slytherins. McG is going to speak to the other heads. It's the third time they've done it. So she's given me permission for something special. Five thirty tomorrow morning in the common room. Wear warm clothes."
"Five!" Fred exclaimed.
"Are you trying to make us quit?" George complained.
"Man up, buttercup, it'll be fun." Oliver grinned at his aghast beaters and moved away to find his seeker.
—Quidditch—
"I quit Ollie," Alicia said when Oliver climbed through the portrait hole the next morning and approached the fireplace where his chasers were huddled for warmth.
"It'll be fun, you'll see," Oliver said and rubbed his cold hands together.
"You've said that twice now, Ollie. I fail to see the fun." An uncharacteristically grumpy George loomed in the dark of the common room. He looked massive in the dim light with the extra layers that Oliver had advised. "Let's go, I'm boiling."
"Just waiting for—" Oliver cut himself off as he glanced around and saw Harry laid stretched out on a nearby sofa. "Alright, Harry?"
Fred flicked his wand to raise the light level, and Harry snatched off his glasses and threw an arm over his face. "If this is more burpees, I'm quitting too, Ollie." Harry grumped from under his arm. His glasses slipped off his chest to the floor. He groped for them unsuccessfully while he hid under his elbow, until Katie took pity on him.
"Let's go," Oliver ordered, "Astronomy tower."
"What! Why?" Katie squarked, suddenly awake. "Don't we need our brooms first?"
"You'll see," Oliver replied.
"Mysterious does not suit you, Ollie. We've had this conversation before," Angelina told him flatly.
—Quidditch—
Once the still sleepy team made it to the Astronomy tower they found their brooms lined up neatly against the turret. Oliver strode over to his broom and inspected it, just as he always did before a flight. Next to each broom was a metal tube with a screw top lid.
"Ollie?" Fred raised an eyebrow. "No chest?"
"No mate, flying only today," Oliver told his beater. "I've been thinking about how hard we've been working. All those intense training sessions we've had since September coupled with that truly horrific game against the 'Puffs. I didn't want us to fall out of love with flying or just burn out."
He brandished his broom.
"It's just you and your broom this morning. We're going to fly up and watch the sunrise. Then I'm going to race you all to the lake, twice around, then back for breakfast."
The team were all smiles, and Oliver felt his shoulders relax.
Harry picked up the metal tube and unscrewed the lid.
"Hot chocolate?" he asked.
"Yeah, I asked McGonagall last night if an elf could bring some and put our brooms up here," Oliver replied.
Harry chuckled. "Don't tell Hermione, she'll lecture you about house elf rights. I've had it twice already, it's long and boring."
"I've heard about this, is she really hot about it? Has she actually asked an elf? Anyway I'll make sure I don't." Oliver said and slung his flask strap across his chest and slid the flask into place at the small of his back.
"Oh God! Don't suggest that to her, I think she's going to be worse next year." Harry groaned.
Oliver took off while his players inspected their broom and filled his lungs with fresh Scottish air. He contemplated the thin strip of light on the horizon and floated in place until everyone had joined him.
"Cast warming on yourselves now, it'll be cold up there. We'll go up until we see the sun, then we're going to have some fun. I want to try out that firebolt, Harry."
"I might take back wanting to quit." Harry grinned.
—Quidditch—
At this time of the morning the elevation they had to reach to see the sun made the castle look like a childs toy. Light cloud cover reflected the rays of light, and their faces lit up like the glory of God.
Oliver flew in the middle of their formation, Harry, Katie and Alicia on his left, George, Angelina and Fred on the right. At some point Harry and Katie had drifted together and may as well have been on the same broom. Oliver felt his muscles relax at the sound of light chatter and the occasional banter of his team enjoying themselves.
After ten minutes they descended below into the dark and waited for the sunrise again.
"Can you cast another warming charm on me please," Katie asked Harry. The sound of her teeth chatter reached Oliver over the gusting wind.
"Let's all reapply it and move onto the fun part." Oliver decided. "It's too bloody cold for much more of this."
A flurry of charms followed, and Alicia banished the empty flasks.
"The first one to find the squid is the winner," Oliver announced, then he accelerated and shouted, "Go!" over his shoulder.
He laughed at the good natured insults and cries of outrage that were snatched by the wind.
—Quidditch—
Oliver heaved a contented sigh as he floated above a tree on a small island and watched his team relax and unwind. The madcap racing had lasted an hour and they were near the lake's edge.
There had been a close call when a lazy tentacle had almost swiped Angelina from the air, but she had deftly avoided it.
Harry had the toes of his quidditch boots trailing through the water. Small waves spread out in overlapping v's behind him.
Oliver had heard that Harry's childhood hadn't been the best so he was glad to be able to give him some fun and happy memories.
George and Alicia were locked in fierce competition to see who could perform a tighter loop-de-loop. Alicia had won by a country mile, but George refused to concede and repeated the same thing each time.
"Best out of three, Allie. I'll have you this time."
Alicia smiled indulgently each time like she might to a small child who was determined to walk.
"Come on, team," Oliver called. "I'm starving."
They arched over to the quidditch pitch and headed for the changing rooms.
High overhead, green figures chased and zoomed between the hoops.
"What are they doing?" Alicia asked as she landed.
"Is that meant to be Pork?" Harry asked quizzically.
"No, it's not," Katie said. "I don't know what it is, but they're sloppy."
Katie had slung her arms around Harry's neck from behind and wrapped her legs around his waist. Harry didn't stop walking, just slid his hands under her thighs and turned his head towards her.
Her broom floated beside her like a loyal labrador. Harry's broom joined it.
"It's so cute that it makes me want to be sick." Angelina sniggered to Alicia.
"Oh I don't know. My legs are pretty tired." Alicia replied as she glanced at Fred.
"Are your legs tired?" Harry asked Katie.
"No, not especially," she replied.
"I could tow your broom along," Harry offered.
"Are you complaining?" She nudged his cheek with her nose.
"No, just making an observation," Harry said with a put-upon sigh.
High overhead a green dot detached itself from a larger green mass and streaked towards them as they neared the locker rooms.
"You can't be here, Wood! I've got the pitch booked today." Marcus Flint snarled at him once he had landed.
Harry let Katie slide to her feet and stood in a line with his teammates.
The rest of the Slytherin team had followed their captain and were arrayed behind him.
"We're done, Flint, we're just getting showered," Oliver replied.
"Done what? What have you done? You can't train without the pitch." Flint scoffed.
Poor unfortunate soul. No imagination.
"Never you mind, Flint, your tiny brain couldn't possibly understand outside the box thinking," Oliver said. It felt good to patronise the oaf.
"You can't train without the pitch and quidditch chest," Flint bit back, there was a trace of unease on his face.
Oliver could see the cogs whirring behind Flint's eyes and braced himself for some Slytherin snideness.
Flint's face brightened. Apparently he has an imagination after all.
"Let's play now," Flint suggested. "Show us how good this outside the box thinking is."
"Ollie," Angelina warned.
Oliver half turned towards her and raised a hand to quell further comment.
"You must think I was born yesterday. You're bad enough with Hooch refereeing, I'm not going to put my players in harm's way so you can roll out the dirty tricks goon squad."
"Who are you calling a goon, you flea bitten, scabby pussycat," Bole said and squared his shoulders in a way he probably thought was menacing.
"If you're too stupid to understand simple words you shouldn't really be flying, Bole," George shot back. "Although you do look like a Cornish pixie buzzing around up there."
The two stepped forward into each other's space. The Weasley twin had a size advantage but Bole was bulkier. Neither backed down.
Montague and Warrington moved to stand behind Bole.
"Scared, Weasley?" Montague smirked.
"It's easy to beat the 'Puffs. You won't find us so easy," Warrington said.
Warrington and Montague both had bright purple dyed skin; it clashed horribly with their green uniforms. It seemed the twins already had put their mysterious plan to action.
"We'll always find you, Warrington, you stand out in the crowd. That looks painful, by the way. Were you attacked by doxies? Pomfrey might have an ointment for it."
Fred's innocent look didn't deceive Oliver for one second. Warrington and Montague, eh? Looked like they got their just desserts.
The Slytherin chaser's eyes widened in horror. Apparently, they weren't as thick as they looked and had caught on to the hidden meaning of Fred's not so innocent question., So had Flint. He had the good sense to silence the goons with a glare.
It was time for him to step in, too. He didn't want this to descend into a fight.
"There's no need for that, George, Fred," Oliver calmed his players. "They might be on their last strike with Hooch, but we're not. We know we can still play them fair and square and beat them like a drum." He raised his chin and looked at the Slytherin captain down his nose. "I don't need to prove anything to you, Flint."
Flint's certain expression wavered.
Oliver permitted himself a smirk. He loved to win.
"Have fun training for the next week. It won't affect us though, I've got your number, Flint." With a friendly nod Oliver turned away and casually led his players toward the changing rooms, fully aware of the glowering goons in green the entire way. His back itched from the glares they sent after him.
The girls followed them into the boys changing room, and they formed a circle in the between the lockers
"Well, there goes my happy buzz," Alicia commented and slumped on to a bench.
"Yeah, I really enjoyed this morning. Thanks for waking me up before I went to bed, Ollie," Angelina said.
"It wasn't ideal, I know, but it was useful. I've really gotten under Flint's skin. He's still on the outs with Pince for losing that book, and McG is furious with Snape for taking advantage of Hooch being away on international duty to give us no training time," Oliver told his players.
"Where is she? In the States again?" asked Harry.
Between Katie and Ron, Harry had become obsessed with the quidditch section of the Daily Prophet and any magazines he could get his hands on. These days he was well informed about the events in the international Quidditch scene.
"Finland, it's the Fins against the States, it's a World Cup qualifier," Katie told him.
Katie's dad was a coach for the England abreast of the international scene helped her to connect with him while he travelled the world, she had told Oliver.
"Did your dad say if he could get us tickets, Belly?" Fred asked.
Katie glared at him and poked a finger in his ribs.
"I've asked you not to call me that! He said 'we'll see', so I don't know. If mum says it, it's a no. With dad it means if he remembers," she said.
"Ollie, how is it useful that your fat head's up Flints nose?" George asked Oliver, his thoughts obviously still on the encounter with the Slytherins.
Oliver smirked again. "He doesn't think straight when he's angry and frustrated. You saw that play they were running?"
"Some weird version of Pork, wasn't it?" Harry asked. Trust him to pick up the formations at a glance. That one was much like Oliver at that age.
"Yeah, probably closer to Broccoli." Oliver gave Harry a nod of recognition, while his smirk became broader, "it's not going to work. They're making it too complicated. It's easy to counteract and throw them off balance. We'll practice a few shutdown moves where one of our chasers flies underneath to catch the drop pass and send a bludger their way every time they try it," he said and nodded at Angelina. "As I said Angie, variation on variation."
The team snickered and nodded in approval.
"Okay, Ollie, we'll see you outside in fifteen minutes,"Alicia said moved toward the door.
"Hang on, there's something else." Oliver scratched his head and shifted from foot to foot.
The team turned back and stared at him expectantly.
"This is my last year. I want to start training up my replacement. Decide between you who should do it, if you want to or not, and I'll talk to McG."
The team exchanged wide-eyed glances, but they all nodded in silent agreement.
—Quidditch—
"What do you think? Who should become captain next year? Any volunteers?" Alicia asked.
The girls changing room was empty except for the three of them. The showers were on and warming up, and the laundry hampers were full.
Katie shook her head. "It's going to be so difficult to follow Ollie, I definitely don't want to."
"Allie? What about you?" Angelina asked her friend while she tugged down the leggings she'd worn under her robes.
Alicia huffed and rocked her head from side to side.
"I don't think so. Timekeeping has always been a problem for me, plus trying to keep the twins in line?" Alicia shuddered. "Thank you, but no. I'm not a masochist."
The other two sniggered at that.
"Angie?" Katie asked.
Angelina made a reached behind her neck, pulled her braid forward and loosened it.
"I love playing and I wouldn't mind being captain but—" She paused, deft fingers working at knots as she reached a complicated part of her braid.
Once her hair was loose, she continued.
"But, while I could do a decent job next year, seventh is going to be manic. I really don't know how Ollie has managed it. Between classes, homework and training I barely have enough time now. How the hell does he manage the captain's duties on top?" Angelina sighed. "I was thinking about it out there. Watching him against Flint just now? I could barely hold my temper, and he only thought about us."
"Harry, then," Katie said contemplatively.
"Harry?" Alicia asked, shocked.
"Yeah, Harry," Angelina agreed. "Think about it, Allie. Would either of you follow Fred or George? I love them both to bits, but they're not leaders."
"No," Alicia agreed.
"Harry's becoming obsessed with the game like Ollie was. He's got three years to grow into the shoes Ollie leaves. More importantly he's got a presence, even at his age. I would follow him and he's not given a 'this is it…' speech yet," Angelina said.
Katie nodded. "My thoughts exactly. Come on, I'm freezing, let's talk to Fred and George at breakfast, then tell Harry he's going to be Captain next year," she said, then hurried to the shower, arms pulled tight across her ribs.
—Quidditch—
The chasers watched Harry wander over to his friends further down the Gryffindor table. They glanced at each other and shared a nod. Katie took George's elbow, and Angelina steered Fred toward the end of the table closest to the massive wooden doors.
"Sit down, boys, we need to talk," Angelina told the beaters.
"Honestly, Angie, I thought you were Allie." Fred pleaded with hands held out to the side.
"Not that, this is about Harry being captain," Alicia told her boyfriend.
"Harry? Did I miss a conversation, George?" Fred asked.
"Can you honestly tell us that you want to be captain for the next two years, thinking about all the work that Ollie has put in?" Angelina said.
"Well, when you put it that way—" George replied. He shared a look with his brother.
"No," both twins said together.
"Why not one of you, though? Harry's only a third year," George asked.
Alicia and Katie exchanged a look.
"We talked about it this morning. It's going to take someone special to follow Ollie. I know I don't have it in me. I love flying and chasing, but—" Katie trailed off.
"I could do it next year, but not in the seventh year. I don't think that would help the house. Harry and Katie will have to rebuild the team apart from a keeper when we've gone."
"But—" Fred started.
George placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "They're right, Freddy. It won't be us, and Allie and Katie aren't forceful enough to make us train in a thunderstorm. Harry already has the enthusiasm to carry him through the bitching that Angie will do."
Angelina opened her mouth to retort. The good-natured sniggers of her teammates stopped her. She nodded thoughtfully.
"So we're in agreement, then?" Angelina asked.
The others all nodded.
"So, who gets to tell Harry?" George asked with a pointed look at Katie.
The rest shifted their gazes to her, too.
Katie sighed. "Why me?"
"You're the natural choice, you're his girlfriend. You might know a—eh—way to lessen the shock," Fred said with a suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows.
That got him an elbow in the side from his girlfriend. He yelped and rubbed his side.
Katie ignored him and sighed again. "Fine, you can tell Ollie then," she said.
—Quidditch—
"You don't need to be an Ollie clone, Harry, you decide how to run the team. It will be a collective effort to begin with, anyway. After the others leave, it will be you and me training a new team. We will know what we're doing by then. We could even pick a fourth year to train as captain for after you graduate," Katie told Harry.
They were in 'their chair' in the common room. She'd grabbed him by the hand as soon as they had entered the common room, led him there and placed herself firmly in his lap so he couldn't run away while she convinced him of the merits of the captaincy and how he was the only choice.
"But— I don't know enough, Katie! How will anyone respect me or listen to me?" Harry replied quietly, his voice laced with doubt.
His modesty was an endearing trait, but sometimes he went too far. It was time for a pep talk.
"Do you think Oliver is right all the time? How many times has Angie, Allie or I told him off? How many times did you correct him on a point? You pick out plays quicker than I or any of the others do. We call them on the fly, but only because Ollie drilled them into us for months. He's been leaning on you for that in training, too. Didn't you notice? We did."
"Yeah, but not for this, though," Harry replied.
"Not consciously, no, at least I don't think so. We've discussed it as a chaser group and we think Ollie's been leaning this way for a while and wants us to catch up and agree with him." Katie said.
"Angie's older and has been with the team for longer," Harry argued.
Katie nodded. "She has, and I think she'd make a good captain. But she had a point about seventh year being ridiculously busy. I don't know how Ollie has managed it. Very few players, especially in Gryffindor, stay as captain the entire seventh year. Usually they are replaced by McGonagall because of grades."
"Can I think about it?" Harry asked and interlaced his fingers with hers.
Was he looking for reassurance from her? The thought warmed her heart. She smiled at him. "Course you can. Just expect Ollie to drag you into meetings with Hooch and discussions about tactics. I think you're getting a head for them. Just seek this year and decide if McGonagall offers you the badge in the summer. She might want an older student." Katie said, she kept her gaze on their interlaced fingers.
Harry took a breath as if he had come to a decision and nodded resolutely. "Have you spoken to Oliver about this yet?"
"The others are with him now. I don't think it will take much convincing." Katie said.
Harry tried to let go of her hand to stand but she refused to let his hand go and get off him, so he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her up with him.
"Going to see Ollie, were you?" she asked him.
"Yeah, I am." Harry nodded.
"Good boy." She smirked, reached up, and gave his head a pat.
—Quidditch—
"Harry, can I have a word?" Ron asked Harry when they were getting ready for bed that night.
"You know you can ask me anything." Harry sat on his trunk, pyjamas in hand, and gave his best friend an expectant look.
"Have you noticed Ginny acting really weird lately? All giggly and, I dunno, just weird," Ron said glumly.
Harry winced. "I did. I was talking to 'Mione about it the other day. She says Ginny has a crush on me. I don't like it. It makes me feel weird when she and her friends stare at me, like an animal at the zoo. They could at least blink." Harry shuddered.
"Fancy you? Why?" A frown marred Ron's features. It seemed he hadn't thought of that possibility.
"Oh thanks!" Harry quipped back, sarcastically. "I dunno. The boy-who-lived-thing, I guess. I thought she knew me better than that." Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair.
Ron sat down beside him on the trunk. "Bugger!"
"Yeah," replied Harry.
The boys sat on their trunks for a while and listened to Seamus and Dean argue good naturedly in the showers.
"Have you seen Nev?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, he'd forgotten to return a book to the library, so he was going before Pince closed up."
"Ah!" The next moment, Harry blanched. "Oh no, I have a book to go back today, too." Harry groaned. "She'll just stare at me when I do, too. Bloody creepy woman."
"That's why Nev was running. He really doesn't like her." Ron chuckled.
"Did you find Scabbers?" Harry asked.
"No. Well, yes. I think I saw him under that massive sideboard in the entrance hall, but I couldn't reach him and he wouldn't come out." Ron said dejectedly.
"Maybe it wasn't Scabbers. This is a castle. There are lots of rats here." Harry offered.
"Yeah, maybe." Ron sighed.
—Quidditch—
"Hey Rommy, there he is!" Ginny Weasley elbowed her best friend in the side to get her attention and giggled. "Hmmm, just look at that arse!" She craned to get a better look.
"Are you two going to start giggling again?" Brian Chinderford, their classmate who sat with them doing transfiguration homework, complained. The two girls promptly broke out into giggles and put their heads together. He sighed in disgust and got up from his armchair in front of the banked fire.
"I'm going to play gobstones. Come find me when you've finished being silly and girly." He realised he was being completely ignored and wandered off.
Romilda raised her head, a confused expression on her face. "What did he say?" she asked belatedly. Her concentration returned as Harry sat in a wingback chair and was lost from view.
"Something about girls, gobstones?" Ginny asked with a dismissive gesture. "He is obsessed, he's probably gone to find Ollie and Alicia." She didn't look at her friend but pondered the back of the red chair Harry had disappeared behind. "Do you think he would mind if I accidently fell into his lap and accidentally kissed him?"
"I think he would be surprised. We don't exactly talk to him, do we? At least you've got an in with your bro being his friend. I don't even have that," Romilda said.
"Hmmm." Ginny pulled a face. "The last time I tried, I put my elbow in the butter dish. God, I was so embarrassed."
Romilda burst out in laughter. She snorted like a piglet and held her hand over her nose. "That was so funny, and he was so confused! You squeaked, went bright red, then hid behind me!"
"Why do you still find that funny? It was ages ago." Ginny glared at her friend. The next moment, she slumped back into the cushions and huffed. "We've got no chance now though. Bell slithered in there like a snake in a skirt."
"Like a snake in a quidditch uniform. Bitch!" Romilda said with emphasis.
"Bitch!" Ginny said solemnly.
Katie entered the common room and looked around. When her eyes fell on the wingback chair and its occupant, her eyes lit up and she went straight towards him. The next second she disappeared from view, and a soft giggle reached the ears of the two girls.
Romilda looked at the back of the chair with narrowed eyes. "We should do something about it."
"Yeah, we should, but what?" Ginny agreed. "Plus, I don't want to be caught either."
"Send her a warning. Stay away from the Boy-Who-Is-Hot, he's too good for you." Romilda's voice rose in her excitement.
"Shh, not so loud." Ginny leaned forward and pressed her hand on Romilda's mouth. Her eyes sparkled with the excitement of an epiphany. "You remember that potion we made a few weeks ago, the red dye?"
"Oh yeah, the sticky stuff? Didn't some Slytherins have dyed skin a few weeks ago? We could give some to Peeves and bribe him to throw them at Bell. Stay away from Potty, he's too good for you!" Romilda smiled dreamily and closed her eyes.
"On a string charmed to the ceiling. We put a proxi— proximi— It goes off when shes's nearby." Ginny stuttered.
"You can't even say it, and I don't know how to do it." Romilda said in a dejected tone and scratched her nose. "There goes our big plan."
Both girls slumped. The silence stretched.
Romilda sucked in a sudden breath. "I have an idea! How's your switching?"
"Not great." Ginny shrugged. "I don't really understand it. We could ask Hermione, she knows everything."
"Let's go find Hermione! Carmen, she should be done with her detention by now."
—Quidditch—
"Hi, Hermione!"
The voice called from behind Hermione as she walked out of the library, two books clutched to her chest. She turned her head.
"Oh, hi Ginny, Romilda. No Brian today?"
Ginny shook her head. "No, he's playing gobstones somewhere, I think. Hermione, we need some help," she added in a casual tone.
"What's up?" Hermione gave her an assessing glance. Something in that question was just too casual.
Ginny glanced at Romilda and nodded slightly.
"We want to learn the switching spell, I want to get better and understand it before we learn it in class. Can you teach us?" Romilda said.
"You want help learning a spell that you'll be taught in fourth year from a third year who hasn't been taught it herself yet?" Hermione asked and wrinkled her nose. The switching spell was one of the most used prank spells. What mischief were those girls brewing?
"Exactly. Wait, what?" Ginny frowned.
"Can you help us learn the switching spell or not?" Romilda said quietly, but with a discernable trace of impatience in her voice.
Hermione gave the two younger girls another probing look and got innocent looks back. What if they really wanted to learn ahead? Who was she to deny anyone a learning experience? She nodded.
"Yes, it's simple enough. You just need a clear picture in your mind of what's being switched and to where, and then it is practice, practice, practice. Same as with each spell. The people who say they struggle and can't do it don't lift their wand outside of the classroom."
She placed her two books on the bench that Ginny and Romilda had vacated, pulled her wand and gave it a jab and a twist.
"Verto Permuto." She muttered.
The books instantly swapped places.
"See? It's easy enough." She stashed her wand away and gave the two girls an encouraging nod. "Try it!"
Ginny tried first, but her jab was weak and ineffectual. Nothing happened.
Romilda went next. While her jab was better, her incantation was not.
"Verty permission," she said confidently. One of the books actually moved slightly, even though she'd used the wrong incantation. That wasn't meant to happen at all. Her visualisation of the outcome and her determination had to be strong.
"That was in English." Hermione sighed. There was a lot of work and practice left to do. "There's a classroom up on the second floor that is unlocked. Let's take this there and we can find something less valuable than my books to practice on."
—Quidditch—
"Hi, Anita, could I have a word?" Oliver jogged up behind the girl, stopped, then spun around.
"Sure, what do you need?" Anita slowed and fell behind her friends.
Oliver didn't react. He froze and just stared, his head tilting to one side.
"Er, what's up?" she asked the back of his head.
He slowly turned around, features screwed up.
"De-ja-vu, sorry, 'Nita. I Thought I just saw Hermione twice." Oliver shook his head. "Nevermind. Are you thinking about putting a team out every Sunday?"
"Most weekends, sure. I might have to stop in the run up to NEWTS though. Why?" she asked.
"I'm thinking about the future. We have the regular pick-up matches for the student body, but no regular training or exposure to tactics unless they're on the team or watching from the stands. I'm thinking that whoever the regular Sunday captains are, I can give pointers and expose the players to techniques and plays to make the Gryffindor team better in the future. If we can put a process in place this could set us up for years," Oliver told her, passion and excitement coloured his voice.
"Well, okay Ollie, instead of random kids dropping in and out we have a session with you the day before? I'm guessing that this isn't during the workshop?" Anita asked.
"Yes, that's what I'm thinking. Maybe half an hour with the captain on suggested plays to try and how to conduct the team, and another with the team you pick to show them what to expect. They won't have the accuracy or teamwork of my Lions, but they don't need to. This is a long term project;" Oliver said and stepped towards the wall to allow a couple of sixth year Hufflepuffs to pass.
"Miles Templeton has been putting out a younger years team. This might have a bigger effect with them. You could guide that team to be a reserve team of sorts. Use them if a player is injured or bring them to your training once or twice a week," Anita said, her face brightening as she warmed to the subject.
"You're just full of good ideas, I'll have to pick your brain more often." Oliver smiled at her.
"Well," Anita paused and glanced down. "There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. Could you spare an hour or two? We could discuss it over a firewhiskey?"
"Yeah, of course we can-" Oliver paused. "I hadn't wanted to date at all this year, nothing but quidditch."
Anita's shoulders slumped, and Oliver's eyes grew as large as saucers.
"No! Sorry Anita, I didn't mean it to come out like that. Yes, I would love to go to Hogsmeade with you!"
Anita brightened like the sun and bounced on her toes once or twice.
"Oh, great! Common room before breakfast?" She beamed.
"Yes, of course." Oliver grinned. "We might even talk about things not quidditch."
"Oliver Wood, don't you promise a girl things that you can't follow through on!" Anita smirked at him.
"Just promise me that Puddifoot's will be nowhere near your plans. You do remember Melissa Carruthers and the vanishing clothes, don't you?" Oliver asked with a shudder.
Anita's eyes grew wide, and she burst into laughter.
"I was right behind you when she spilt tea on you and vanished your clothes. We really weren't expecting you to bend over and pick up your wand." Anita snorted.
"Ha, laugh it up! How she got the vanishing charm confused with the cleaning charm I still don't know. I wasn't even on a date with her. I saw her the other day and she blushed bright red." Oliver groused.
Anita giggled and an attractive dusting of colour made her freckles stand out on her cheeks.
"So you won't go to Madam Puddifoots even if I asked nicely?" Anita asked.
She stepped into his personal space and batted her very long eyelashes up at him.
Oliver gulped. She really didn't leave him much of an option, didn't she?
T.B.C
—