Saturday 9th October 1993
The Quidditch changing room showers were not exactly glamorous, but Liv chose every Saturday to shower here rather than back at her dorm for the simple reason that she had the whole place to herself. The dorm that Liv and four other Ravenclaw girls shared had two showers to exclusively use, which meant that if you were first in in a morning, you were most likely holding up a queue, and if you were last in, you were most likely not going to be able to make breakfast.
These concerns did not exist in the Quidditch showers on a Saturday morning. At least, they hadn't - until today.
Wanting to go straight to breakfast to meet Holly, Liv showered here as normal, but this time she was conscious of the argument outside, and so was rushing.
The Quidditch changing rooms were split into two. On match days, each team would occupy one – there were never more than two teams on the pitch at any given time, so no need for more. When Liv had arrived this morning, she chose one changing room at random – them both being empty – and left her change of clothes and towel there. Returning now, her stomach had flipped upon realising that the Gryffindor team had chosen the same changing room for themselves – presumably, Slytherin had the other one. As the teams argued outside, Liv knew that eventually one of them would return, surrendering the pitch time to the other, and if that team was Gryffindor she didn't want to be caught awkwardly trying to change while they huddled to discuss tactics.
Unfortunately for Liv, while she was still washing out her conditioner, a door slammed, and angry voices rang through.
"I can't believe it! I booked it! I booked the pitch! Why the hell does Snape have authority over Quidditch suddenly?" Liv recognised the voice as belonging to Oliver Wood, as she had heard him yell many times before during games.
"Surely there's got to be some regulation against Malfoy buying the whole team Nimbus 2001's like that." A female voice this time, one Liv didn't recognise. "It's absolutely not fair."
"Yeah," another female voice, "Quidditch should be about skill, not how much money you have."
"That's lucky for us, else we'd be off the team in no time."
"Not to be dramatic, but I think I'd probably kill myself if I couldn't play Quidditch."
These last two voices belonged undeniably to the Weasley twins, though Liv wasn't sure which twin had said what.
Liv was experiencing a very familiar wave of emotion right now as she stood naked and frozen in the still running shower, her conditioner long washed off. First, she was nervous to be found in case allegations of spying were levied against her. However, she rationalised, surely they wouldn't think she would go to the trouble of stripping off and showering just to eavesdrop on tactics. Additionally, Fred, at least, had seen her running outside; he could be an eyewitness to her innocence. Second, she was nervous and confused about what her next move would be. Her towel was – thankfully – just the other side of the shower curtain, but her clothes were still in the main changing room, where the Gryffindors now stood talking. She would undoubtedly soon have to emerge in nothing but a towel in front of practically strangers, awkwardly explain why she was there, and try to get dressed as discreetly as possible. The other option was to wait it out, but if the Gryffindors wanted to shower, she didn't think she could manage that.
With a deep breath, Liv turned the shower off, knowing the change in noise would alert them – and she was right. As she reached outside the curtain for her towel, she heard the conversation stop suddenly, and one Weasley twin remark, "Bloody hell wazzat?"
Gingerly, Liv crept out of the showers and around the corner into the main changing area and was greeted by six shocked expressions. Four of them – Oliver Wood and the three female Chasers – looked shocked and confused. However, two faces, framed by ginger hair and freckles, looked bemused. The sound of Liv's wet feet slapping the stone floor was deafening. George Weasley gave out a whistle, while Fred laughed.
Oliver Wood, however, was not amused.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" he demanded sharply.
Something changed in Liv then. Just a moment before, she had felt awkward, embarrassed, and shy – the rude greeting from Wood turned those feelings into anger.
"Excuse me?" she replied, finally straightening her back (while keeping one arm gripped firmly at the top of her towel), "What am I doing here? I'm showering in the changing rooms that we Ravenclaw players have just as much access to as you do. I cut my run short this morning upon your unexpected arrival, by the way, and now I'd like to get changed." Liv pointed to where she had left her things. "And I'd also like to not be spoken to in that tone, if you don't mind."
An awkward silence fell upon the changing room. The Gryffindor team looked between Liv and her adversary like they were watching a tennis match. Wood was staring at Liv with wide eyes, and Liv – after her expulsion of anger – began to feel sorry for being so harsh. She took a breath.
"Sorry", she said, her voice softer now. "I was - just a bit annoyed my run got cut short. I'm just gonna-" and she motioned towards her clothes, beginning to step awkwardly towards them through the circle of Gryffindors. As she was, Wood began to speak too.
"No, it's okay – sorry for being rude. I was just pissed off because..." he trailed off, nodding in the direction of the Quidditch pitch.
"Right, yeah," Liv offered, feeling her face become hot. "Well, I'll just go..." she didn't bother finishing her sentence before heading back round the corner to the shower block and beginning to change in one of the shower cubicles, ignoring the fact her socks were getting wet from the floor. She took her time changing, hoping that the Gryffindor team would all leave before she had to emerge again. Finally, voices drifted away, and a door slammed shut – it sounded as though everyone had left.
Liv immediately relaxed and began to leave – then immediately tensed up again as she saw Fred Weasley leaning by the door, grinning.
"Well, that was bloody brilliant," he said casually.
"God," Liv groaned, "I'm so sorry – I hope you don't think Ravenclaw is spying on you or anything."
"Well, if you were to, I'm sure you would have figured out a more clandestine way to do it. Your particular method of spying I would expect from Hufflepuff, not Ravenclaw." He had changed into a T-shirt and jeans, the weather outside remaining fair for this time of year, and hoisting his kit bag over his shoulder, held the changing room door open for Liv to walk through. "Anyway," he continued, "I meant more the telling off thing. Wood needed taking down a peg or two." They began to walk back up to the castle.
"Well, I hope he doesn't think I'm horrible," Liv said with genuine worry in her voice.
"Why?" Fred asked bluntly.
"What do you mean why? I wouldn't want anyone to think I'm horrible."
"Hmm," Fred thought a moment. Without saying anything, he took the kit bag from Liv's shoulder and threw it over his own back. "I just don't get that way of thinking. Like, let's say you're horrible – if someone thinks you are, then well, they just know the truth. If you're not horrible but someone thinks you are, it'll only take them interacting with you again, or seeing you do something nice, to realise they were wrong. Either way, not much use in worrying about it."
Live turned to face him, frowning in bewilderment, but Fred stared ahead, humming to himself. To live that way, Liv thought, to be so carefree... Liv was sure this boy had never had an anxious thought in his life.
When they reached the entrance to the castle, Liv stopped and said, "Hey - why haven't you bothered finding out my name yet?"
Fred finally turned to face her, and he laughed. "I know your name, stupid. Here – take this," he said, giving her the kit bag back, "I don't want people thinking I've gone soft. See you, Liv."
With a wink, he entered the castle.
