AN: Thanks again to all who've followed this story. If anyone could take the time to give me some feedback about what they like and what they don't. I would appreciate it very much. I sometimes think the story is going too slowly then I think it's going too fast.

Thanks again! x

The next few weeks of classes passed without mention. Oliver and I went between classes chatting about Quidditch and different teams in the Euro league. We talked mostly about Quidditch and how excited Oliver was about starting training. Our first training session was scheduled for Saturday morning and I couldn't be more excited. I had decided to get into my training regime a few days early and luckily on Thursdays our first lesson was a free period. After breakfast, I followed Oliver to the pitch.

"Hey Obi!" I called behind him as he walked down the hill to the pitch.

His head snapped up, "LJ!" he said happily, "What're you doing up this early?" he slowed his pace to the pitch so I could catch up.

"I thought I'd find you heading to the pitch. I wanted to come down to start conditioning before we trained on the weekend." I answered slowly.

Oliver laughed, "You'll need to be in shape once I take over your training." I looked at him with a laugh, "I'm not kidding. I'm a horrible person when I'm training my people."

I laughed again, "I doubt you'll be any worse than Nicholas, my captain at home. She was super tough on us. She takes a special interest in Chasers."

We arrived at the pitch and Oliver made for one of the cupboards near the entrance. There were four doors in a row; each a different colour. The one Oliver went to was red. I would say about 10 years ago it was bright red, but the years had weathered it. The others were yellow, blue and green respectively.

Oliver dragged out a box that he said was filled with Quaffles after returning to the cupboard for a few minutes, he looked up at me.

"Where's your broom? I thought McGonagall would have had it put in the cupboard with the rest of them." He squinted slightly as the sun shone over my shoulder.

I smiled knowingly, "It's in my room still. I wanted to keep it with me. Plus, I'm still in conditioning phase, not the flying phase of my training. I can't just get in the air and expect to be able to perform."

Oliver looked perplexed as I took off towards the inner oval that was the pitch. I was wearing my long track-pants and baggy sweatshirt with my training clothes on underneath. As I stood on the pitch, I quickly shed the long pants to reveal my tight knee-high exercise pants. Oliver had walked with his broom towards me as I began to warm up. I kept my sweat shirt on as I stood straight up, inching my neck further towards the sky. I then swept my upper body down to my toes, easily tucking my fingers under my toes without bending my knees. I stood up after a few minutes of dangling to see Oliver staring at me questioningly.

"Nicholas had a specific way to train us." I explained, stretching my arms around me, "The two days before our 'official' practice, we would all convene at the pitch for 'conditioning'. We started with 10 minutes of stretching, then a 5km jog followed by some gentle warm-down yoga."

Oliver was floored, "You weren't kidding when you said Nicholas was tough."

I nodded as I slipped my sweat shirt over my head. My exercise shirt was a black singlet that reached just below my belly button. I smiled at Oliver as he walked closer to me, stretching his arms as he walked.

"Aren't you getting up in the air?" I asked.

"Nope," he smiled softly, "You're going to teach me how to 'condition' myself."

I laughed, "Are you sure you're ready?"

He nodded and bent down to stretch his back just like I had minutes before. I stifled a laugh. Oliver was barely able to touch his shins. Clearly he had never stretched much before.

He glared at me, "Let's just jog." He conceded.

We began our jog around the oval. Oliver was a decent jogger, he kept pace well. Though, if I was honest with myself, I was going easy on him. I had yet to break a sweat or lose my breath, Oliver caught on with my charade quite quickly. Little bugger.

"If you can go faster, you should." He puffed, "don't let me interrupt your warm up."

I smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "Thanks Obi." I took off in a semi sprint. I wanted to push myself, prepare myself for the season. I needed to prove myself at Hogwarts; I was the best female athlete at Nimirix and I needed to be here too. I had met the rest of the team earlier in the week and they all looked like fit athletes, I needed to be the best.

I hadn't told Oliver or the Weasleys about what the entire conversation and agreement between my school and theirs had entailed. If I proved myself this year, kept to my classes and excelled at Quidditch, I would be allowed to study for a European and Australian Wizarding Dual Citizenship. I could stay at Hogwarts and complete schooling and then try out for the European Quidditch Team scouters that came at the end of the year. I needed this year to be great. Australia didn't have nearly as large a league as Europe did. Australia had a total of 5 teams and the only way to get on to one of those teams was an old member had to retire… or die. I wasn't looking forward to failing at Hogwarts this year and being sent home. My parents expected me to study to be a medi-witch like my mother and her mother and, more recently, my sister. I didn't want to heal people; my love was flying.

I soon found myself over-lapping Oliver, much to his dismay, and finishing my 5km run in just over my personal best of 17minutes. Oliver took an extra 15 minutes to finish which was still an excellent time for a person who isn't a regular runner.

I had lain down on the grass to cool myself off, roughly in the middle of the pitch. Oliver joined me once he had finished his laps and we let our breath settle down to a normal intake.

"That… sucks…" Oliver panted, "How often… did you … do that?"

"I'm not going to lie," I said, panting slightly, "It's usually double that distance." Oliver sounded shocked, "We only had to do it twice a week though." I added quickly.

"Oh," he sounded sarcastic, "Only twice a week? Lucky."

I laughed. Oliver and I sat in silence for a while, enjoying the cool breeze that the autumn air was bringing us. It was Oliver who spoke first.

"You and Fred seem to be getting to know each other." He said attempting to be casual.

I laughed, thinking of the nights Fred and I had spent over the past few days in the common room. Playing Wizard's chess and exploding snap. Fred was a lovely guy, fantastic to talk to and a really funny guy.

"Fred's very…" I thought for a moment, "cool." I ended, lamely, glad that my red face from running made the blush that was forming unnoticeable.

Oliver propped himself up on his elbow and turned his body to me, "Cool?" he said incredulously, "That's the best you can up with?"

I propped myself up as well, facing Oliver with a small and embarrassed smile, "Yes. He's cool. Like you're cool and George is cool and everyone I've met as of yet is cool…" I smiled, "aside from Lockhart." I added as an afterthought.

"There's a difference between a cool friend and a cool 'someone you hang out with every spare minute of your day'."

"I'm making friends Obi," I said, "That's what I'm here to do. I can't help it if everyone goes to their dormitories and Fred's the only one left to talk to." I was getting annoyed at the look that Oliver was giving me, "Besides, who's to say who I can and can't talk, hang out or be friends with?"

"No one," Oliver said, sounding annoyed, "It's just if you want to do well at Quidditch this year, you could pick a better person to befriend. He's not the most serious person when it comes to putting his mind to it."

I stood, walking to get my shirt and pants, "A better person?" I asked, "You mean a better person like you. Someone whose quidditch obsessive and talks about nothing other than it?" I turned to face him before I left, "I think I'd rather hang out with someone who I can laugh with than someone who thinks life has to be super serious all the time. At least Fred and George know how to hold a conversation about something that doesn't include Quaffles or Broom models." I stormed off towards to castle.

Oliver had been so rude, what was wrong with hanging out with Fred? He was lovely, kind and very attractive –

Oh no. I think I have a crush on Fred Weasley.