Saturday came and went with the Quidditch tryouts providing mixed results. On one hand they managed to find a replacement Chaser for Miro Franca: as predicted Katie Bell, who had almost made the team the previous year, proved to be the best person available for the task. She had managed to improve her game during the last twelve months, mainly down to lots of early morning practicing over the summer which impressed the Gryffindor Captain to no end. The downside however was the fact that the last remaining position of Seeker, which was arguably the one area in which no team could be lacking, was proving to be a difficult one to fill.

"How long has he been like that?" asked Angelina, whispering to George in the Common Room, Alicia, Fred and the newest addition to the team were also standing next to them in a quiet little huddle.

"About half an hour," replied George quickly looking up at the clock hung on the wall.

Oliver Wood was sitting in one of the large armchairs in the corner of the room, staring intensely at a piece of parchment attached to a clipboard. He had a look of pure concentration etched onto his face as he tapped his finger against the paper over and over.

"Should we check if he is okay?" wondered Katie in a concerned voice as she looked from one member of the team to another.

"Probably not," admitted Fred shaking his head, "you haven't dealt with Oliver much have you? How can I put this gently?"

"Oliver is crazy," ventured Alicia, the group still staring at the lone figure in the corner.

"Well everyone loves Quidditch," replied Katie, shrugging one of her shoulders.

"No, you don't seem to be getting this," said George shaking his head, "Oliver literally lives and breathes the game. I heard that on one History of Magic essay he wrote seventeen and a half feet on Quidditch."

"Nothing wrong with being knowledgeable about the game," said Katie.

"The essay subject wasn't even about Quidditch, it was about the formation of the Ministry of Magic," explained George.

"Okay I suppose that is a little…" Katie's face wrinkled under her frown.

"Crazy?" finished George.

"Yeah, with a capital 'K'," added Fred to looks that were equal measures of confusion and pity.

"There is one thing that you can't fault him on though," said George thoughtfully, looking back at their Captain.

"It's not his spelling that's for sure," muttered Angelina under her breath.

"Not Fred," replied George rolling his eyes, "I mean Oliver."

"Oh, what's that then?"

"This," George reached over to a table positioned under a window and picked up an apple that had been left there unwanted. He pulled his arm back and hurled it towards Oliver with deadly accuracy. There was a loud smacking sound as the fruit slammed into the fifth year's palm. His hand had snaked out in a blur and caught the apple in midair. Without taking his eyes off of the parchment, Oliver lifted the apple to his mouth and took a large bite out of the side of it.

"Okay, that was impressive," admitted Katie nodding her approval, "although, slightly unsettling."

"Wait for it," advised George still watching the Gryffindor Captain in the same way a cat does when it's fascinated by a piece of moving string.

There was the sound of crunching as Oliver began to chew his way through his mouthful of food. His face suddenly changed from an expression of concentration to one of confusion as he stopped chewing and looked down at the apple held in his hand. He glanced to his left, then his right before looking up and seeing the rest of the team for the first time.

"You alright Oliver?" asked George, trying to pretend that they hadn't all been staring at him.

"Yeah," replied Oliver slowly, he looked down at the fruit in his hand, "I must just be tired, I don't even remember taking an apple from the table at dinner."

"Oh I get that all the time," admitted Fred as the group wandered over, "I'm always finding stuff in my pockets, and I have no idea how they got there in the first place."

"That's because you keep putting on my clothes," complained George, he leant on the armrest of the chair and looked over Oliver's shoulder at the clipboard, "so what's this then?"

"It's my notes from Saturday on the people that tried out for the Seeker position," admitted Oliver sighing and leaning back in the chair, "I've written down all their strengths and weaknesses."

"You have?" asked George taking a close look at the writing. "There doesn't seem to be a lot of strengths written down."

"There wasn't much to write down," replied Oliver looking dejected.

"'Has short hair, won't get in his eyes', and that's what you call a strength?" said George reading from the notes.

"Well I had to put at least one strength down," shrugged Oliver sounded a bit defeated.

"Can I see that?" asked Katie taking the clipboard from him.

"McGonagall wants to see me later to find out how the tryouts went," Oliver grumbled, "I still don't know what I am going to do about a Seeker."

"Oi Oliver, you're so mean," stated Katie who had flipped through the notes, she looked up at the rest of the team with an expression of annoyance, "he said I look liked Ursula Sarnia who plays for the Puddlemere United, she's got a face like a Ghoul."

"Does she?" asked Oliver frowning with genuine puzzlement, "never really noticed that, she flies like a dream though, that's what I meant."

"Really?" replied Katie sceptically.

"Actually I'd believe him on that," counselled Alicia, "watch this. Oliver, who was voted this year's most attractive witch in For Wizards' Magazine?"

"Erm… no idea."

"Aurora Adelphi," sighed the twins in unison.

"And who was Britain's entrant in last year's Witch World competition?"

"Sorry," shrugged Oliver, "haven't got a clue."

"Gillian Philexia," responded the twins.

"And what was the final score in the nineteen eighty five under nineteens' South England Regional Quidditch cup final?"

"One hundred and eighty to two hundred and forty, the Tiverton Dragons versus the Ashford Mongooses," Oliver said animatedly, "it was an amazing game, the Mongooses were on the back foot for most of it but they came through in the end. Superb game by Fertelli, scored seven goals in the first ten minutes, I think that still stands as a record…"

"I think I just proved my point," stated Angelina looking satisfied.

"Like we said…" Alicia whispered to Katie, leaving the last word unspoken.

"With a capital 'K'," added Fred leaning in between the two girls.

Oliver spent most of the next few days moping around the school, permanently referring to his notes from the tryouts which he kept on his person at all times. Under the pressure of trying to decide who to make the new Seeker, he had become rather irritable and tended to snap at people if they bothered him too much. At this point Angelina had decided to try and keep Fred and George away from the Quidditch Captain, who didn't seem to fully appreciate their efforts in trying to cheer him up.

"I don't see why we have to stay away from him," complained George as they waited down at the Quidditch pitch for their scheduled practice session.

"Because he'll end up killing one, if not both, of you," replied Angelina leaning on her broom.

"And you'll miss us?" asked Fred smiling. "You're so sweet."

"Nope that's not the reason I'm keeping you away from him," clarified the Chaser, "I actually I meant that he's having enough trouble finding a Seeker without having to worry about replacing you two."

"No-one can replace us," stated George puffing out his chest, "we're just too amazing."

"Yes, you've certainly amazed me a lot of the time," nodded Alicia, "although I'm thinking we're using slightly different meanings for the word."

"Where's Oliver?" wondered Fred turning Katie's wrist over to look at her watch, "it's not like him to be late. Has anyone got the time? I left my watch upstairs."

"It's quarter past seven," advised Alicia and Katie together.

"Half eleven," stated George before frowning. He tapped his watch a few times before holding it up to his ear.

"Idiot," muttered Angelina.

"There he is," said Katie pointing up towards the castle.

"Hang on," said Fred squinting as they watched the approaching figure, "it looks like he is smiling, so it certainly can't be Oliver."

"Smiling? It looks like he is about to start skipping. I wonder what has him so happy," said Angelina frowning.

"And you said we couldn't cheer him up," Fred scolded her.

"Who said that it was you?"

"We were the only ones trying," reasoned Fred shrugging.

"Good evening team," Oliver flashed them all a wide smile as he reached them. He dropped his broom down on the floor and flicked the Quaffle held in the other hand towards Angelina who caught it deftly in one hand.

"You're certainly in a better mood," noted Alicia.

"And why shouldn't I be?" queried Oliver, "it's a lovely evening, the Sun is shining, not a cloud in the sky, we've found our Seeker, the birds are singing…"

"You found a Seeker?" asked George. "Who is it? It's not Haddington is it?"

"Which one was Haddington?" asked Fred.

"The one that kept making dragon sounds as he flew around."

"Oh god yeah, not him."

"Er… I've heard you two growling like dragons during practice," Alicia pointed out, poking George in the chest with his finger.

"Yeah," admitted George rubbing the sore spot on his chest with his hand, "but it's funny when we do it."

"Do you want to hear who it is or not?" asked Oliver, there was an expectant pause as the group turned to look at their captain, "Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter?" replied Fred looking as surprised as the rest of the team, "but he's a first year."

"Yeah," agreed Alicia, "and I heard he grew up with muggles, he probably hasn't even flown a broom in his life."

"Ha, wrong," said Oliver still looking pleased with himself, "he has flown a broom, just once mind you, today in fact."

"Oh well that settles it then," admitted George, "if he's flown once then let's snatch him up quick before he is signed by a professional team."

"On his first ever try on a broom he went into a fifty foot dive and caught a Rememberall," explained Oliver smiling wide.

"That's actually pretty impressive," said George nodding along with the rest of the team.

"Pretty impressive? On his first try?" asked Oliver.

"All right Oliver, calm down," soothed George, "last thing we need is your head exploding from overexcitement."

"Or is it?" said Fred looking thoughtful for a few seconds before adding, "no, no, you're right. It is."

"McGonagall is trying to sort out a broom for him," Oliver informed the team, "but I want it to remain a secret, so no telling anyone."

"Why are you looking at us when you say that?" asked George looking hurt, he pointed at Angelina and Alicia, "they're the ones who gossip all the time."

"Not about important stuff like Quidditch," countered Oliver.

"Wait a minute," interjected Alicia, "since when have we been gossips?"

"Who was the person that reported back to the whole of Gryffindor House that they'd seen Clare Edgely snogging Peter Battersby behind Greenhouse Two?" asked George.

"That was you."

"Oh… yeah forgot about that," replied George scratching his chin. His eyes lit up for a second time, "ah, then how about the time that Wrafter from Ravenclaw split his trousers in the middle of the corridor, revealing his underwear with little baby ducks all over them, and before you could say 'quack' it was all over the school?"

"That would be you again," said Alicia folding her arms.

"Oh… damn," there was a slight pause as George tried to think of more examples, "how about when… oh hang on that was us as well. What about… no, no that was us too. Oh I know, the time that… wait no, that was dream…"

Deciding that George could probably continue like this for the rest of the night Fred turned to Oliver, "fair enough, don't worry we'll keep it to ourselves."

****

"That must make him the youngest Quidditch player in over a century," said Lee looking thoroughly impressed.

"I know," agreed Fred, "apparently he is a natural on a broom."

"Yeah," nodded George, "Oliver said that on his ever flight he dropped down into a two hundred foot dive and caught a marble with his eyes shut."

"Well it's to be expected I suppose," admitted Lee, "after all he managed to defeat You-Know-Who when he was just a baby, so he's bound to be naturally talented at all things magical."

The three boys were sat around one of the tables under a window in the Gryffindor Common Room, where they were writing out some letters. The twins had managed to last a whole twelve seconds before telling their friend about the new addition to the team. They were quite proud that they'd managed to last that long.

"That's what I figured," said George thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

"Plus it's a good move on the old mind games front," added Lee dipping a quill into an ink pot and scribbling away on a piece of parchment.

"Yes it is," agreed Fred, spoiling his look of serene wisdom by adding, "er… why?"

"Think about it," said Lee leaning forward, "not only do we already have some of the best players…"

"Some?" asked George looking up from writing his letter.

"Fine," said Lee rolling his eyes, "we already have all the best players, but on top of that, we've now added the one person who managed to defeat You-Know-Who to the line up. The other teams will be petrified of us."

"That's true," replied Fred tapping his quill on the page in front of him.

"Who'd have thought we'd have Harry Potter in our Quidditch team?" commented Lee shaking his head in wonder.

"This is keeping it to yourself?" asked Oliver tersely having approached the table.

"You didn't say we couldn't tell Lee," countered George shrugging.

"Keep it to yourself," repeated Oliver looking astounded, "what does that sound like to you?"

"If you had meant we couldn't tell Lee," Fred informed the fifth year, "then you should have specifically said 'and that includes Lee'."

"Yourself. Keep it to yourself," Oliver said slowly, "I shouldn't have to say 'and that includes Lee' because 'keep it to yourself' implies that already."

"But we tell Lee everything," replied George frowning, "he's like a third twin."

"That would make him a triplet," Fred corrected his brother.

"Yes, that's right," nodded George in agreement, "he's our black, dreadlocked haired triplet."

"He has our dad's eyes," added Fred.

"Do you two ever take things seriously?" sighed Oliver realising that the twins were completely oblivious to his annoyed state.

"Oh Merlin's Beard no," replied George shaking his head, "if we took things serious we'd be…"

"…idiots," Fred finished the sentence for him.

"I was gonna say Percy but it's basically the same thing," admitted George.

"Okay fine," said Oliver rubbing his forehead. He only seemed to get bad headaches when he had to deal with the twins. He turned to Lee, "don't tell anyone. And you two, don't tell anyone else. Okay?"

"Don't worry," advised George, "we'll keep it to ourselves."

Oliver left the three boys to write their letters and he headed off mumbling something about visiting Madam Pomfrey for his headache. For a few moments the only sound at the table was that of scribbling quills.

"Who are you writing to?" asked George looking up.

"Charlie," said Fred using his wand to clear up a few rogue droplets of ice that had spilled onto his parchment, "I figured he'd like to hear that Potter is our new Seeker. What about you?"

"I'm letting Enoch in on the good news too, what about you Lee?"

"I'm telling my mum about it, she's a big Quidditch fan," explained Lee, there was a slight awkward silence as the three boys looked at each other.

"If he hadn't wanted us to tell our family Oliver would have added 'and that includes anyone outside of Hogwarts'," reasoned Lee shrugging.

"Exactly Lee," agreed George.

"See," added Fred, "that's why your dad's favourite."