Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters mentioned in this fiction. However, Prissy Parkinson and the plot belong to me!
Prissy Parkinson had been making futile attempts to study for her midterms next week. What sort of young man had the audacity to reveal his feelings so passionately—other than Oliver Wood? He must have been jesting and perhaps the epistle had a hidden prank lurking within its diction. Prissy set her notes aside and picked up the cream-colored parchment lined with gold edges and perused:
To my Angel,
I apologize for being unable to speak with you in person. I do not wish to frighten you with what I am going to reveal for I have spent eternal days and nights thinking about you and your smile. I fear that when we graduate from Hogwarts, fate will tear us asunder forever. Do I dare defy fate? For your sake, yes, I will defy fate and I shall battle him until my soul leaves my body. I do not think there is any man on earth whose love for you can exceed mine. Everyday I love you as if I had loved you for millenniums. All the money in the world can never equal the amount of devotion have for you. I confess that I am a bit nervous as I write this and simultaneously I am quite thrilled to have my feelings known to you. I entreat you to tell me if you feel the same as I do for you. I shall, and continue to, wait for your response.
Love,
Oliver Wood
Prissy finished the letter with a sigh. There was no intended pun. Wood really was enamored. Oliver could not possibly have feelings for me after all the pain I've caused him. I do not understand how people have the heart to forgive, puh it's like he's a saint! Although she would not admit it, Oliver's letter was most certainly a pleasure to read unlike Marcus Flint's letter, which read:
Dear Prissy-Priss-Priss,
No youth can ever display such beauty as you Pansy. Unlike her, you are quite ostentatious—on the outside when you are with your filthy friends. You abhor Muggles in their presence, however when you are by yourself, you worship the Muggles. In fact, you even act like them! You belch louder than an elephant with serious gas problems. You also have gas problems and I suggest you get rid of them…oh boy the other day when we were at lunch I heard and smelled you (unintentionally) from afar, you created a stench that wreaks worse than the boys locker room. It's a pity you can't stop eating junk food. I am appalled to see you eating fatty foods because while you continue consuming chunks of chocolate cake, your bra size does not seem to increase. My advice to you is this, darling eat less oily foods that cause gas and get some surgery that will augment your COCOBONGOS! Bongo, bongo, bongo!!
Other than that, may the Almighty help you from any more mortifying situations than what you are in now. If you want to seek revenge against me, I suggest you tell the entire Slytherin house that I, Marcus Flint, do the Macarena in the shower and squeal like a little girl every time I do the dance sequence correctly. Smell you later!
Marcus "Troll-Boy" Flint
PS I've decided that when I leave Hogwarts and I am all by myself, I am going to become a troll because I can dance and prance in the moors and create planet-shattering earthquakes! La de da de daa!!!!
PPS Can I borrow your tutu when the time comes?
Yes, Marcus Flint knew how to make the most romantic statements. Ironically, had Fred and George not written this letter by themselves and sent this to Prissy, then Prissy would have been in the Slytherin common room helping Flint with his studies. But, my dear reader, Prissy was tricked into believing that this letter really was written by Marcus Flint. We shall wait and see what the future holds for the two fiends that turned two possible "star-crossed lovers" against each other.
In the mean time, Prissy pondered whether she ought to or not respond to Wood. It was impolite to receive a letter and not respond to it, especially if it was a love letter. On the other hand, the letter was not addressed to her but it simply floated towards her.
I might not be too familiar with Oliver, but he is always shy and quiet—that is when he is not with his Quidditch teammates—so maybe there is a possibility that he is very romantic unlike some Slytherin traitors I know!
So, the decision was made. Prissy will go speak to Oliver Wood the next day after herbology and from there on, she will decide if Wood really was the romantic Merlin that all girls secretly hoped their future husbands would be like.
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The Gryffindor Common Room:
"Wake up Fred!" Oliver anxiously shook Fred, who was asleep on the couch.
"No mother, I swear I never set the garden gnome on Mr.Fudge. It was in the mood to hug people and because we all love the filthy Fud—"
"Oh pull yourself together man! This is Wood you're speaking to, not yer mother!" Oliver shook Fred even harder to pull him out of his rest. "Did Angelina say anything to you about my letter?"
Fred's eyes flew open and he immediately fell off the couch and began to writhe in guilt and agony, "Ahhhh! The evil letter! Ahh! No…no more letters. Bloody epistles are coming from everywhere, take me away I tell you…ahhh!! Oh the horror, why not send me a house full of howlers why don't you. Ahhhh!" he squealed.
Oliver suddenly became frightened, "Are you alright? Oh my goodness," he panicked, "what have I done?"
Fred, realizing what he had just done was once again abashed and began to cover for himself, "Ollie—Ollie Wood my boy, I do not fear letters…no sir I most certainly do not! Why if there were a giant letter to march into the common room I'd," he searched in his pockets and randomly pulled out a toilet plunger, "I'd slay it with my trusted toilet plunger!"
"Eh, you can go back to sleep if you want." Oliver began nervously.
"Because I've never seen anyone carry a toilet plunger in his pocket and sleep peacefully with it in there." He continued.
"Wood, a man must know what to have with him at all times in case of any emergency. You never know when a toilet plunger will come in handy—so you must carry it with you always." Fred said paternally.
"Ahem. Right. Anyway, I—"
"Look," said Fred realizing that Wood wanted to talk about Angelina, "Angelina really likes you and she will definitely respond to your letter faster than you can say 'Die Slytherin! The Qudditch cup is miiiiine'!" Feeling reassured by this, Wood silently nodded feeling his pride swell inside his chest. Afterwards, the two friends sat down and began to work on their assignments quickly so they could get out and practice for their upcoming tournament.
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Qudditch field:
Angelina approached the beige rock as her letter instructed her to and waited. As the sun was setting, the weather seemed warmer than it was earlier during the day; it was the advent of spring and the warm gentle breeze teased her black curly hair. Her dark black eyes scanned the field in hopes of finding the person who admired her. Secretly she hoped it was Oliver Wood.
She was sure it was Oliver Wood. It had to be!
It was always Oliver Wood for her. Since the day she first boarded the Hogwarts Express, Oliver Wood, the boy in his second year at Hogwarts, had helped her adapt to this new environment that was miles away from home. Angelina had never lived far away from her parents; certainly, this new life at Hogwarts was troubling for her—at first.
Oh Oliver, if only I could tell what goes through that mind of yours! You are always tolerant of things and you never expose your feelings to anyone. If only I knew how you felt at this moment, then I would say I was the most erudite girl in the world. I hope you won't keep me waiting.
Then, Angelina spotted a tall figure sauntering its way towards her. She held her breath. This was it…the moment when all secrets will be revealed! As the figure moved closer, Angelina watched its movements. It seemed confident and was in no rush to get to its destination. Eventually the figure's features seemed to be noticeable; he had dark black hair and a well-built body.
Oh! I must know who this is. He might be very handsome if I could see him better and—oh no, no, no, no I think I am mistaken. He looks nothing like Oliver, I think I might have to wait a bit longer because this figure is none other than Marcus Flint!
Angelina was petrified. He could not write a note admiring her, for he always mocked her and never respected her, it was impossible to believe that he had a heart. What should she do? Running away was impossible because there was no place to hide that was less than fifteen meters away. She could move towards the game stands and hide, but he had already seen her.
"Oy! Look what we have here, a little Gryffindor bait!" he called after her.
Now that she was caught, Angelina had no choice but to stick her nose in the air and wait for Flint to instigate another quarrel. When my rescuer gets here, he will put Flint where he belongs…a goalpost surrounded by sharks swimming beneath it.