Captainship:
"Alright team, listen up," said Charlie Weasley from the back of the locker-room. Oliver looked up, from where he had been lovingly stowing his Keeper's gloves in the closet. Fred and George ceased their wrestling. Angelina carefully finished folding her uniform, keeping one eye on Charlie and one on Fred and George. Millie and Aiden listened with quiet courtesy.
Charlie cleared his throat and looked at his mud-spattered boots. To Oliver, Charlie appeared nervous. Charlie never looked nervous. It was enough for Oliver to quietly close the closet door and take a seat on the bench. An evident solemn aura penetrated the locker-room, smelling of sweat and dirt. Even Fred and George seemed to sense it and quieted their antics.
"What's up, Charlie?" said Aiden.
Charlie cleared his throat again. "I've – I've got something to tell you all."
"We guessed as much," muttered George to Fred, earning himself a cuff on the ear from Millie.
Charlie half-smiled. "I'm afraid you're not all going to like it." This, it seemed, sealed the deal. Oliver waited with bated breath.
"As some of you know," began Charlie again. His voice sounded funny. He kept clearing his throat, as though he was bothered by allergies. "I've been offered a place on England's reserve squad – after I've finished here." Charlie coughed again. No one said anything. The locker-room was as silent as Oliver had ever experienced it. "I – I've also been offered an internship. It's an affiliated branch of the Department of Magical Creatures it's – well, it's in Romania. At a Norwegian Richback reserve…."
Still no one spoke. Oliver felt something slide onto his chest, something that boded no good. Almost without realizing it, he felt his face fall into a frown and eyebrows furrow.
"Well you – you guys know how much I enjoy Care of Magical Creatures class," said Charlie, rather desperately.
"Yeah," whispered Fred, but there was no sign of the usual mockery in his voice.
"And I – this is something I've wanted for – for a long time," Charlie coughed and pulled at the collar of his robes. "I've been thinking it over for a while. I haven't wanted to say anything because I didn't want to get anyone worried. But – they – they expect my answer by next week and I can't put it off any longer…. I, well I've decided to take up the internship."
Apparently this was the climax. No one said anything. Oliver waited.
"Well, that's spanking, Charlie!" said George with a grin.
"Brilliant!" agreed Fred.
Millie shushed them viciously.
"I'll be leaving next Friday after the first," said Charlie.
It was as though someone had taken several dozen buckets of chilled acid and dumped them over their heads. The shock, the sting and disbelief, could not have been more pointed.
Millie gasped and then stifled herself. Fred and George exchanged wide-eyed glances. Aiden's shoulders slumped. Angelina, who always possessed a rock-solid resolve, seemed to go even stiffer then she usually was. Oliver felt as though he had been punched in his gut.
Charlie, now that he had gotten the worst over with, pressed on with hardly any notice to their reactions. "So, obviously that means I'll be missing the last match. Ravenclaw isn't that good so you still stand a decent chance…."
Either George or Fred scoffed. Charlie ignored them.
"It's too bad we couldn't pull off against Slytherin but – but we – we managed to beat Hufflepuff, which means we're tied in third –"
"Tied in fourth," corrected Millie gloomily.
"Even so," said Charlie, "you can't give up, not until that last Snitch is caught. Aiden, I've appointed you acting captain. We'll pull Alicia Spinnet up for Chaser and Millie – you'll be Seeker. Don't worry, you're more than decent.
"And listen – listen team – I – I'm sorry I'm pulling out on you like this but it isn't because I don't believe in you. It isn't because I'm disappointed with how hard you've worked. It's the opposite really -"
"Your pulling out on us because your proud of us?" said George. Millie hit him again.
Charlie pressed on, wearing an expression that suggested physical pain, "I trust you guys, and I'm impressed – truly impressed on how we've pulled together after that first match. So, so keep your heads up and keep going at it. I don't believe you've got it in you to start disappointing me now."
It was with a dejected atmosphere the practice was adjured. George and Fred left, muttering poisonously and shooting Charlie dark looks. No one else seemed upset with Charlie, just disappointed with the situation. Oliver put the rest of his gear away with care, feeling like he'd never been so let-down in his life.
"Hang on a minute, Oliver," said Charlie when Oliver prepared to leave. "I've got something I'd like to talk to you about." Charlie extinguished the light in the locker-room with his wand, and Oliver and he set off across the darkened grounds.
"With Aiden and Millie graduating this year," Charlie started, "you'll be the oldest one left."
Oliver didn't say anything. He was hardly listening. His kicked at a bit of dry grass while he walked.
"You know the graduating captain gets a say in who succeeds him, right?" Somewhere along the line, Charlie caught Oliver's attention. He stopped looking at the shadow bathed grass and glanced to Charlie, who was walking by his side and staring into the distance. "Well," continued Charlie, "I've had a chat with McGonagall – what with the internship and all. She asked if there was anyone on the team I thought should be considered for captain next year and I said that you were the most worthy on the team. She agreed."
Oliver stared at Charlie in amazement. He felt his mouth drop open as if preparing to say something, but he hadn't any idea what he was supposed to say. Finally Charlie looked over and flashed a mischievous grin, which immediately recalled Fred and George.
"I know it's against the rules to tell you beforehand, Oliver," said Charlie, "but let's just suggest you shouldn't be surprised if you get a badge in the mail over holidays."
Oliver felt his heart leap. Captain! Him? There must be some mistake. He was only – well, he would only be a fifth year. It wasn't unheard of, he supposed...but usually one didn't become a captain until sixth or seventh –
"I'm leaving you with a pretty decent lineup," Charlie was saying, "Fred and George are developing into a pair of – well, for lack of a better expression – smashing Beaters. Finally they seem to be interested in hitting something other than their little brother. You've got Angelina as a Chaser and, to tell you the truth, I would have moved Alicia up to Chaser for the full year if I hadn't felt like I owed it to Aiden – what with him being on the team for all those years –"
Captain. Oliver was going to be captain. Wait until he told his dad…!
"And I'm sure you'll be able to fill 'er out with another Chaser. We've got you for Keeper, obviously, and your solid, Oliver. More than solid. There's just well…just a Seeker after that. But I'm sure someone will turn up…."
"There won't be anyone near as good as you," said Oliver warmly, feeling that he had to say something. After all, captain….
Charlie coughed modestly in appreciation. "Well, all in all, I'd say you'll have a darn good chance at the Cup – darn good. I'll have to see if I can get away for the match…."
Oliver was going to be captain.
"Anyway," said Charlie, coughing again. They had reached the castle. Charlie and Oliver turned to face each other. For the first time, Oliver felt his sense of wonder, of admiration when he looked up to Charlie, overtaken by a feeling of companionship – as if he and Charlie were equals. After all, Charlie was a captain, Oliver would be a captain…. "I'll be around for a few weeks yet, Oliver. See you around…."
And then something extraordinary happened: Charlie stuck out his hand for Oliver to shake. It was as if Charlie, too, considered Oliver his equal.
Oliver smiled, "See you around," he said gruffly, adopting the most mature tone her could muster. He grasped Charlie's hand in his own, felt the heat and firmness of the handshake, and Charlie smiled grimly back. He nodded curtly, released Oliver's hand, and marched away without another word.
Oliver was left in the dimly lit entrance hall. He beamed to himself, feeling far superior to the boy who had gone out to practice earlier that afternoon.