It seemed like the most logical plan to pull the old family tent out of retirement for the world cup. Aquila smiled affectionately at the thing as she set it down on their allotted plot of grass. Oliver's parents had seemed so pleased when he told them the news that he was moving out. They told him time and again that he could come home at any time should anything go wrong. Aquila remembered very well the night he had apparated into their apartment, his belongings arrayed around him in trunks and bags. He stared at the place in amazement. It was big and fancy. But he had been so happy. They had spent the night putting their own collection of things into every room, making it theirs. It was scary. There was no doubt about it. It was a sudden change for them both. Probably foolishly sudden. But it was worth a try, she thought. They were all smiles now, as they set about putting up the tent. Oliver's parents had gone for a walk to locate water, and friends to talk to.
"So how big is this tent exactly?" Oliver asked, as he set about flattening it on the ground.
"You've been to my house, and you still feel the need to ask?" She was actually incredulous.
"Right. Outlandish and luxuriously large?" He had a sarcastic streak with her that he rarely showed to anyone else.
"Where was this sharp wit with the Weasley Twins?" she asked, as she set about driving the pegs into the ground at the corners of the large tent.
"It annoyed them more when I didn't rise to it." Oliver had a wicked grin, as he smoothed out the last of the tent. Aquila stepped back, and Oliver hurried to join her. She raised her wand, and silently cast the spell that made the tent rise and fill out. The word tent didn't do it justice. It was better described as a cloth palace. Beautiful bunting hung from the eaves of the round tent, a triangular flag rising from the peak with the Valentine crest on it. Aquila rolled her eyes.
"Better fix this up." Aquila said, as she waved her wand again, turning the bunting into green triangles with a golden harp on each, and the triangular flag into the Irish flag. The roof of the tent became a blanket of clover, with delicate white and purple blooms interspersed amongst the shamrock leaves.
"Has to be the classiest take on support." Oliver said, admiring her handiwork. Aquila clutched a hand to her chest.
"You flatter me!" He turned to face her and noticed that shamrocks and a few clover flowers had wound themselves into her mane of black hair. He grinned at her. "Do you like it? Am I classy?" she asked, sarcastically. He pushed her lightly and playfully. She pushed back, laughing. They toned down their physical contact and displays of affection when they were together in public. They weren't comfortable being under public speculation. Aquila was very glad that Oliver was of a similar mindset on the matter. She couldn't imagine the discomfort of someone kissing her, and touching her, and being mushy towards her in front of other people. Oliver had his own little ways of letting her know that he cared about her.
"Well well! If it isn't Mr. and Mrs. Wood!" Aquila shut her eyes and started to laugh.
"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!" she bellowed, before she ran at them, and tackled them both. Oliver came over to inspect the tangle that now lay on the ground, laughing.
"Fred. George." he said, curtly, nodding to each. "Good summer?"
"Not been bad, no." Aquila knew that tone of voice. Oliver was trying his best not to smile. Aquila managed to disentangle herself from the Weasley Twins, who were still chuckling at her sudden outburst.
"Not very fitting of a Valentine, Aquila, what would your family say." George said, as he rose, brushing himself off.
"Luckily for them, they'll never get to find out that I'm a person. I'm just the Halfblood. What would they expect anyways from a filthy halfbreed." She rolled her eyes.
Her more snobbish aunts, uncles, and cousins had called her that behind her back before. What had she expected from purebloods. Her grandmother despised that about them. That was why she doted on her. She saw Aquila to be her true legacy.
"Here with the rest of your clan, boys?" Aquila asked, delicately flattening the creases in her deep green jumper.
"Well Charlie came with us this time, at least. But also Percy. You win some, you lose some." Fred said with a shrug. Aquila supressed a shudder at the mention of Percy, but the topic of Charlie Weasley piqued her interest. Her grandmother had made mention of the Weasley family before. And of Charlie to be specific. Bill too. Aquila blushed at the thought. It had been suggested to her parents that they try to broker a marriage deal with the Weasleys, who weren't bad stock. Her parents had refused flat out. All the same she would like to meet Charlie, who Oliver spoke of in hushed, reverent tones.
"I hear Daisy and Charlie are coming along. I miss them already. You excited to see Daisy, George?" Aquila asked, pointedly, wanting to measure his answer very carefully. George avoided her eyes, and didn't answer for a time. She had a growing suspicion built on years of observation that the two were fond of each other. Aquila noticed that she had a talent for disarming the twins this way. She was pleased.
"It'll be great to see all the old gang back together again. It'll be like old times." Fred said, in his place, glancing in confusion to his brother. Aquila smiled gently.
"That it will."
The Quidditch final had been the most spectacular event that Oliver Wood had ever witnessed in his life. They weren't box seats like the Weasley's had managed to get their hands on, but the seats were high up enough, and the view was spectacular. The Diggorys had ended up next to them. Cedric was very reserved in his excitement, which Oliver didn't appreciate that much. He would clap and occasionally give a whoop. He thought that himself and Aquila really set a standard when the Irish mascots and team came out onto the pitch. They went wild. Aquila had chants, songs, she roared at the tops of her lungs. Oliver followed suit, so delighted that he got to be at the biggest Quidditch event of the year. It was almost as good as winning the Cup himself, but not quite. The Wood family had decked themselves out all in green to support their Celtic cousins. But Aquila was a true pro. Somehow she was exceptionally dignified and graceful in her colours, not looking the least bit gaudy. With the clover and flowers in her hair, and deep forest green she wore, he could definitely see the fairy in her. Her passion for Quidditch and her nation made him feel so proud. He was proud of himself for being there with her.
He was confused when the mascots for the Bulgarian team coming out. Aquila was rolling her eyes, and his father looked to be restraining himself with great effort. He looked around and saw that a lot of the men were acting strangely.
"Veela." Aquila said, in a disapproving tone. "They're like sirens. Don't you feel it?" she asked, curiously. Oliver looked at her, then to the Veela, then back again.
"I don't feel any different, no." She looked to be curious about that, but she soon forgot when the Bulgarian team came rocketing out. They were formidable. Oliver could hardly contain his excitement at seeing the two best teams in the world compete. Aquila grabbed his hand. He looked into her grinning face. He got to share this amazing experience with her. His favourite thing in the world, and he got to share it with his favourite person in the world. The roar of the crowd was too loud for him to say the words, but looking in her eyes, he knew she was thinking the same.
The skill displayed at this match swept Oliver up, and he felt a new determination. He would be as good as these players. The keepers had exceptional timing and skills. Their reflexes amazed him, and were something to be greatly admired. He watched the match very closely, trying to see if there was anything he could learn. When Ireland had won outright, and they were leaving the pitch in celebration, Oliver felt like he had seen Quidditch with new eyes. Oliver's parents were excitedly discussing how great that young Victor Krum was, while Aquila led a rousing chorus of 'You'll Never Beat the Irish'. He slung an arm around her shoulders, and joined in on the bits of the song he knew. He felt drunk on the atmosphere. He felt like he would never stop smiling. As they made their way back to the campsite they met some of their friends, and celebrated alongside them. They even had fun with some of the Bulgarian supporters, who weren't bad losers. Oliver had to admit that Krum had done the right thing. There had been no way for their team to come back. He ended the game honourably on Bulgarian terms. As they crashed into their very fancy tent, Oliver and Aquila were full of chat about Quidditch.
"I still say the save you made at the end of the Slytherin Game last season was much better, Oliver. You were born to be a professional." she insisted. Oliver's parents liked her very much, his mother having warmed to her in no time at all.
"She's not wrong son. You've got what it takes to be one of them." his father said. Oliver was all smiles, and he was feeling a little bit embarrassed, but their support made him feel good. He had been practicing on Aquila's old Nimbus 2500, and he was good. He had what it took for tryouts.
"I think I saw the Bones' tents down that way. We're just going to nip out to them and say hello. We'll be back in a jiff!" his mum said, waving. Oliver smiled and said his goodbyes, before turning back to Aquila.
"My country is now officially the best at Quidditch." she said, with a coy smile. Oliver played along, and made to look like he was thinking it over.
"I mean I guess. Maybe. I know this one Irish woman, she was an amazing chaser. So I suppose you'd be right." She looped her arms around his neck, as he pulled her close by the waist.
"You sound like you this Irish woman. What was she like?" she said, playing along, her fingers twisting into the hair on the back of his head. A shiver went up his spine.
"She was the most amazing woman. More intelligent than anyone I'd ever met. Better at Quidditch than most. She was so kind, and caring. Real tall too. Think I might have been in love with her." Aquila laughed that throaty laugh that he loved so much. But her laugh came up short, and her face slipped into a look of concentration.
"There's trouble out there." she said, quietly. She slipped out of his arms and made for the door of the tent, she came rushing back and snatched up her wand. "We need to get out of here." Her voice was thick with fear and worry. Oliver looked at her in confusion, but picked up his own wand and followed her.
"What's wrong, what's going on?" He stood mutely for a second when he came outside to the chaos and screaming. Fire and fear coloured the air. He took Aquila's hand and ran.