Born To Make Mistakes, Not Fake Perfection ( Oliver Wood ) Chapter 10, a harry potter fanfic

Oliver thought he would just get me stuck in detention for the next two nights like it was no big deal?

Like I would take it?

Oh, no. He's got another thing coming.

What am I going to do, you ask?

Well, I know for a fact that Oliver sleeps for an hour later than I usually do.

Why is that important?

I planted a card board cut out of myself inside of his shower.

That's gonna be the first thing he sees when he goes to brush his teeth and looks in the mirror.

I also took the liberty of charming his toilet paper to have the Gryffindor emblem on it with 'Gryffindor sucks' underneath.

There's some tacks on the toilet seat, as well. Just for good measure.

Just imagine when one of the boys sit their tushey upon this seat. Man, oh man.

I didn't even start my work out yet, just so I could ruin his day.

This is dedication, folks!

The sound of a yawn and shuffling around made my eyes go wide.

I scanned the room for a place to hide, settling for the tiny linen closet next to the tub.

I'm sure I'll end up getting caught some how but in the end it will be worth it.

Tossing a large towel and wash rag on the edge of the tub so the person didn't have to come in my area, I moved to the side so I could see what was going on.

The corner of one of the red towels found my mouth as I watched a shirtless Oliver Wood stroll into the bathroom, rubbing his eyes.

My eyes wandered down his thick neck, gnawing the cloth a little harder when I watched the vein pop as he yawned.

His bare broad shoulders flexed along with his wonderfully defined chest and toned stomach as he stretched himself out.

I felt the stupid muscle in my chest begin involuntarily thumping a mile a minute..

NO! NO! NO! Jessica Cesari! You stop that!

Stop that nonsense right now!

You absolutely will not allow yourself to even think of him like that.

Not again.

He turned to the mirror, but sadly my attention wasn't on his face.

Oh. My. Sweet. Salazar. Slytherin.

I tried to pry my eyes from his beautifully carved back that was bulging with muscles at every angle.

Merlin, help me. Why must he be so damned good looking?

Ugh! Stop. Stop right now.

He said he would never want you, remember?

Think Cedric!

Cedric. Cedric. Ced- oh dear God..

His arm flexed as he scrubbed his teeth clean, showing off an incredible cut..

That thought sort of flew out the window as a bit of drool found it's way down my lip from the way his muscles moved as he arched over the sink to spit out the excess tooth paste.

Gosh, I'm pathetic..

My heart was pounding to the point where I swore it was going to fly out of my chest at any given moment.

I didn't even notice he lifted his head until he screamed bloody murder - that's when I was snapped out of my trance.

"I'm going to kill her!" I heard him promise himself as he angrily snatched the cut out from the tub. "I swear it."

He moved the card board to the side and I watched as he looked it over.

I actually liked the photo that was on it. I was done up in a pair of athletic shorts and top, sitting my broom on my shoulders as my hands rested on either end.

Oliver mumbled something then sighed, turning back to the mirror.

He pulled out a can of shaving cream and got to work.

The three granola bars I had on the way here were wearing off and I knew my belly was bound to growl in the next few minutes.

Hiking up eight sets of stairs with supplies is no joke, my friends.

"Pleaseee, hurry up.." I whispered to myself feeling the sudden urge to pee.

Why must everything hit me at once?

He finished his face and let out a rather loud fart as he slapped on some after shave.

I internally chuckled at his act, because, well... we all know what's about to happen.

Oliver grabbed a copy of 'Quidditch Weekly' and stepped over to his toilet, without even so much as a second glance at what was waiting for him.

He turned about, holding his place in the magazine with his thumb and forefinger, about to rip down his trousers and get down to business.

"Wait! I'm about to explode!" One of Wood's roommates shoved him out of the way and pushed him out of the way and shoves his knickers down only to spring back up a second later, "What the fuck!" He shrieked.

I stuffed the towel in my mouth and held both hands over it to stifle the bursts that were coming out.

"I've got tacks in my bottom!"

That was it.

I lost my shit.

The towel dropped and I fell out of the linen closet on my knees with tears pouring down my face.

"YOU!" Oliver hissed, tossing his magazine to the side.

I sobered up real quick and made a break for it.

"You'll never catch me alive, Wood!" I shouted back at him as I ran out of the dormitory and down the closest set of stairs.

Times like this send me back to my child hood.

I remember when I was seven;

Oliver found this tiny toy cow in his mum's garden. He was convinced it was one of those 'I grow in water' things that the muggle children seem to be so fond of and we waited literally three weeks for this thing to sprout. One day, I was a little flustered about the whole situation and I let it slip that I didn't think that it was going to grow. Do you know what he did? He chased me for two hours. Hours. Throwing countless objects at me and rarely succeeding whilst shouting about how things take time and how I should have faith. Once his father caught him by the collar as we passed him in the living room, we called a truce. I even waited an extra seven months with him and I'm sure it's probably still behind the toilet in it's little bowl. Just hanging out.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" He threatened. I only laughed and carried on.

I went to hop onto the first set of moving stair cases but slipped, thus making me face plant a marble step and send me tumbling down to the bottom, holding onto the railing for dear life until I pulled myself back up.

Oliver hopped on too, unfortunately.

I really wish luck was on my side. You really cant have it all, huh?

I'm stuck- If i jump, I have my potential untimely death waiting for me if I miss and if I stay here, I also have a torturous and untimely death.

Decisions, decisions..

Oliver chuckled smugly as he inched his way toward me.

I giggled nervously against the railing, desperately searching for a potential safe exit.

I looked at him and the next set of stairs, estimating about a six foot difference..

Curse you bloody slow steps!

Taking a deep breath, I leapt across but two strong arms caught my waist, pulling me back down.

"Are you mad?" Concern was written all over Oliver's face.

I gulped, trying to squeeze out of his grip.

"Do you want to kill yourself?"

"I figured I'd do it before you did.." I trailed off, looking down.

And here goes luck being on my side again. Not.

Oliver was still shirtless.

I felt my breath get caught in my throat as my eyes ran up and down his body once more.

Don't do it. I reminded myself.

Don't look him in the eye and you'll be fine. just fine.

His hand moved to tilt my chin upward.

Avoiding eye contact is key. I looked everywhere but at him, until..

"Look at me." He said softly.

That alone was enough to make me melt.

I blew a slow breath through my lips and fixed my eyes on his..

So much for avoiding eye contact. My inner voice taunted.

I couldn't even begin to process a new coherent thought as he stared at me.

A wave of emotions began filling my body and it took every ounce of courage I had to tear my eyes from his.

I have no idea what he's feeling.

Why can't I be like those girls in the sappy romance novels who can tell what a mans feeling by looking into his eyes?

"Jess," He loosened his grip on my waist and I scurried away as soon as the stairs locked on the landing. "I-"

"I got to go." I said. I ran the rest of the way out of the castle wiping the single tear that slipped away.

And you swore you'd never cry over him again..

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I got to go." She said, tearing away from me then running the rest of the way down the stairs.

My eyes remained on her as she ran down the next six flights when I felt a pair of soft hands snaking around my waist along with a kiss on my shoulder blade.

I shrugged whoever it was off and moved to go up the stairs, but the girl caught my arm. "Oliver, wait."

I let out an audible sigh as I turned to face the girl, "What?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest.

I wasn't entirely sure what her name was but I do remember her head bobbing between my legs a few nights ago..

"I was just wondering if you wanted to have a little fun?" I shrugged, waving for her to follow me.

"Out." I growled, not wasting anytime waiting on my my roommates to head out before tossing the petite brunette onto my bed.

She giggled in reply as I climbed on top of her, shaking my pajama bottoms off on the way.

If there's one thing I DON'T do, it's kiss a girl.

I haven't had a kiss since Katie, honestly.

And the time before that, only Je- her.

The girl tried slowly unbuttoning her top in a seductive manner, but I ripped it off in seconds.

I had to rid her from my mind. Now.

What's her name was trailing sloppy kisses down my neck, but images of a certain chaser flooded my mind.

She's like a cock block sent from above to show how much the lord hates me..

The girl moved to try to kiss my lips.

Luckily, I moved my face just in time.

She sighed when she realized she wasn't going to be the one to change me like so many others like herself thought.

I smirked a bit. These broads really think I'd change my ways for one of them?

None have anything I want..

Small, tanned, dark hair, athletic, big round bum-

There goes another image of her.

I cringed. The girls lips encircled around my member but nothing she was doing was getting me anywhere but stiff.

I froze for a second, tight lipped.

Shaking my head, I pulled her shocked face away from my body and stood up, walking toward the showers.

"You can go." I said, loud enough for her to hear as I closed the bathroom door behind me.

Fucking Jessica Cesari..

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Do you have any three's?" I asked, a slight smile playing on my lips at my bluff as I sucked the gummy fang in my mouth free of the sour sugar

"Nope," My 'husband' pointed to the stack of cards between us, smirking. "Do YOU have any three's?"

Giving a slight shake of my head, I took my extra card. "Go fish."

"Wha-" His face fell, "No. NO! You can't lie in go fish. Were you raised in barn? What the fuck is wrong with you Jessica Bletchley? You're not the woman I married two weeks ago!"

I quietly giggled at his flabbergasted face as he threw his remaining four cards in my face, angrily rising to his feet.

I was undoubtedly feeling MUCH better after that whole run in with that... Gryffindor this morning.

And by much better, I mean I did my work out, had a lonely game of catch with my quaffle, hit a few bludgers, and ate my weight in snacks...again.

That is, until Miles woke up.

Somehow he managed to get up the girls stairs.

After numerous shrieks and squeals I thought I'd be brave and see what all the fuss was about and was pounced on the moment I peeked my head out my door.

Apparently Miles was beat with an assortment of items ranging from hair spray bottles to maxi pads.

I literally sat with him, for probably more than an hour, drowning his sorrows in my last packages of cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties.

We were still eating, actually.

Just playing a bit of Go Fish in the process, because- what else can you do with your hands when your mouth is full?

"Graham!" Miles whined, childishly stomping down the stairs only to slide down because of the charms that's supposed to keep boys out..

"No! Whatever Miles says is bullocks!" I shouted, hustling out behind him only to slide into his sprawled out mess

"No it isn't! You cheated!" Miles turned around quickly, making me roll onto the cold stone floor as he shot up.

Peeling myself up with my now aching arms, I poked him in his forehead harshly before turning my attention to Graham who was sitting in an arm chair with his arms crossed over his chest, "I won fair and square! I did NOT cheat in go fish!"

Graham pulled his fatherly face; meaning we were about to get a scolding.

His left eye brow rose slowly, his head cocked a bit to the left as well, along with his lips thinning.

Miles and I were facing each other, arms crossed but our noses pointed in the air toward our sensible friend.

"It. Is. A. Game." Graham said slowly. "You're practically adults. Fighting over a game. A game!"

Miles caved first, wildly throwing his arms in the air in protest. "No, it's life! She always cheats! She always some how beats me in EVERYTHING! We played go fish, the memory game, I spy, even tried to see who could build the tallest licorice wand cabin, and guess who won EVERYTIME?"

His arms pointed in my direction, "HER!"

A smile tugged at my lips. "I'm clearly the better spouse."

"NO!" Miles pointed at me, glaring at me with his beautiful baby blues. "You used your blue wands to kick over my pi-"

Cassius suddenly moved from whatever corner he was hiding in and tried to pull Miles away only to be shoved back onto the sofa. "Sit down, slut!"

"Your mum's a slut!" Cass pushed himself back up, shoving Miles to the ground in the process

"I gotta take a walk!" Miles shrieked. "I need to clear my head, maybe grab some fruit leather. I don't even know right now." His hands found the sides of his head as he used his hip to open the common room door

I giggled as Graham blew a sigh of relief, "Thank fucking God."

"Be at the pitch before half one! We have practice!"

Miles backtracked a few steps and spun around dramatically, shooting a rather rude hand gesture in my direction.

He held it up until he was no longer in our line of vision.

"Let's go fuck his day up even more," Marcus chuckled, clapping hands with Cassius.

"That's not a good idea, lads." Fucking Graham!

"Oi! Shut up, will you?" Cassius rolled his eyes before turning his attention to me. "Any suggestions, princess?"

I smirked, "Give me a moment. I was going to save this for when the Weasley's get snippy but duty calls."

My so called husband needed a bit of pay back for the new assortment of bruises I have from last nights drunken shenanigans, anyway.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Fuck... We've been all around the castle!" Marcus whined, slumping onto a bench right as we stepped off of the main stairway

We've had our search party out for Miles the past two hours, and guess what? He was no where to be found.

I've seriously wasted all that time doing sneaky ninja moves; like rolling to the other side of the hall, having Cassius levitate me into the air above all the students (I fell when I bumped my head on an archway and Cassius dropped his wand from laughing so much, so you can take off roughly twenty or so minutes from my Hospital Wing visit for a ice pack.) Needless to say, I didn't trust Cassius enough to levitate me again, so I moved into holding my wand like a gun and stealthily moved about through the corridors ahead of all the guys like a spy..

"I literally can not fathom why were still doing this." Graham grumbled, falling next to Marcus

"Then go snog Daphne!" My eyes remained peeled, peeking around the marble banister on the stairs

Cassius placed one of his cold hands on my shoulder and one on my waist to peek around me. "There he is!"

There Miles was indeed.

Chatting it up with a cute blonde in Hufflepuff robes.

"I'll pay you seven galleons to have a crush on me," Miles beamed, locking eyes with the female who was just under his height.

I heard Cassius snort from behind.

Slapping him lightly on the arm, I said. "Sometimes you have to risk it to get the biscuit!"

Upon hearing the low giggle and the click of footsteps retreating, I pointed my wand at Miles legs, binding them in place as soon as the girl was a safe distance away.

"Easy peasy, lemon squeezy boys!" I smirked, watching Miles and his failed attempts to move

"HOLY MOTHER OF FUUUUCK!" Miles shouted, throwing his head back with both hands on his face

Let's see if he leaves in a huff or ruins my night again!

Marc's booming laughter made my victim's face scrunch in realization.

He pointed at Marcus, "Your mum's a whore!"

Then to Graham, "Your mum's a whore!"

He pointed at me, "Your mum's a whore!"

And finally, Cassius. "And your mum's the biggest whore of them all!"

"Now, now, Bletchley." Cass smirked, knowing Miles was sure to leave his wand in his room - per usual. "Is that anyway to speak to the people who hold your life in their hands?"

"Why is my mum a whore? It's all his fault!" Graham slapped Cassius on his head.

"Fuck off, cunt." Holy guacamole, Cassius has a potty mouth.

"Wife!" Miles snapped, "I'm sensing some fucking favoritism right now and I'm not fucking happy about it in the slightest!"

Marcus didn't bother concealing the rumbles of laughter escaping his mouth

"The bloody hell you laughing at, Flint? Don't fucking laugh. I'll come over there and slap your lips right off your face!"

"I'd love to see you try," Marcus smirked, stepping just within Miles reach and stepping back quickly as soon as he tried to grab him

Oooo, if only Miles knew this wasn't the end.

I curtly nodded at Cassius who looked to me with mischievous eyes.

You could barely make out his low mumbles over Miles constant wailing until Miles just stopped.

Completely stopped.

I stifled my chortles of laughter as he reached around, patting his own bum lightly.

"Warrington! You put that patch of my trousers back on, NOW! Right now!"

Cassius smirked in reply, holding up a rather large portion of Mi's brown corduroys. "Thought you'd enjoy the breeze. Lord knows, those tiny ducks on your knickers probably do."

"That was a nice touch," Marcus applauded, nodding his head in admiration

"Yeah, I thought so too." I agreed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The boy's spartan training wasn't as eventful as usual.

POSSIBLY due to the fact that Miles was still pretty peeved at our, an I quote, 'fucking ruthless barn yard behavior' that was apparently caused by our 'whore mothers lack of discipline'..

I had my first stringers against my reserves. I've never been so proud to admit that the second strings were almost as good as the first with only a few weeks of constant drilling.

You just can't have rusty reserves who have no clue what's going on if something goes wrong..

I picked apart each player as I peered around the field.

My first stringers were looking decent, but Miles was a bit slow getting to the goals in time.

Chewing my lip, I blew the snitch shaped whistle that hung low around my neck and motioned for the guys to form a circle before me.

"So, here's what I'm thinking," I flipped through my pocket notebook until I found my diagram. "If one of the Gryffindors have the quaffle, say in quadrant four, I want any two of you chasers to get 'em in a Parkin's pincer trap.."

"Then I want my last chaser, say from quadrant two, acting as if they're going to ram right into their face, thus making the Gryffindor scared for it's safety and making them drop the quaffle into one of your arms because hopefully one of you would have enough sense to drop."

The guys nodded in agreement at our confirmed first play.

"That'd probably get us a foul if not done correctly, but you all looked good so far. Anyway, now stay with me on this," I began again, flipping to the next page and pulling out my oil pastel, scribbling away. "I want Lucian to always hit to the left and Bole to the right. I want full coverage of the field at ALL times. Understand? I don't care how tight a proper hitting spot may be, you make sure you hit it."

Tucking my book into the side of my shorts, I grasped the tin rubbish bin and pulled it over to my guys.

"Lucian, Bole," I pulled out two washable paint filled balloons. "I want you to replace the bouncy balls I gave you to hit with these. They're charmed, so they'll only burst when they make skin contact."

Placing a balloon in each of their hands gently, I continued. "Whoever has the least amount of paint on their body from successfully avoiding the balloons will play in the first game. I'll be doing this probably twice a week just to improve your dodging and what not."

"Right. Now chasers, I want one of you and I don't care who does it or if you switch up, but I need one of you to help protect the goals along with Miles, he can't do it on his own because of the blind spots. Got it? There's no such thing as too much protection! I already have my beater's on each side of the goals, one high and one a little lower for coverage."

I took an even amount of balloons, put them in a few sacks, and handed them to all of my beaters for faster reloading.

"Get to it. I want play number one and six perfected by three o'clock sharp, as well as formations four, twelve and...seven by half three. Keep one eye on the balloons. Multitasking is key, I have no room for the weak. If all goes well, we'll be done by four!"

"You ate my last taco!" Miles pointed his finger angrily, poking my nose.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You could say he's halfway forgiven me for binding him to the floor, but apparently I opened a new can of worms tonight.

"Did not! I just finished my own! You probably ate it but was too stupid to brace yourself for closure!"

Which was probably true considering I was sure to place eight fully stuffed tacos with the works on my own plate.

"NO!" He flung his arms in the air, "You ate my last taco and you will pay!"

Maybe we should stop eating the same thing as the other every sodding night, you loon.

"I swear on my unborn child that I didn't eat your last taco!" I shouted across the table at Miles.

I pursed my lips. That was too much.

Did I really just involve my innocent first born in a bloody taco deboggle?

"DO NOT bring our children into this!" He slammed his fists on the table.

Our friends were in hysterics around us, trying to choke out instigating remarks but failing epically.

I scooped a miniature mountain of food on my plate, balanced it on my arm and gripped my water goblet.

Flipping Miles the bird for good measure, I swaggered off to finish my meal in detention.

Sadly, the moment I got to the transfiguration room, it wasn't empty.

"Nice of you to join us, Cesari. Take a seat." McGongall gestured to the spot in front of Wood.

"You'll be grading my first and second years weekly exams with no magic."

She held out her hand as she walked over to my table, a slight smile on her face. "Your wands, please."

I rolled my eyes.

I didn't need that stupid wand anyway.

A fork is all I need.

I dug into the slop I called supper, barely paying attention to the stack that was dropped onto my desk.

It had to be about two feet high.

How many effing students do you have Minerva?

"Good luck." She smiled at me, her eyes twinkling.

I scoffed. And they say Gryffindor's are chivalrous.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Two hours later, Jessica and I finished grading all of McGonagall's tests.

She was completely engrossed in this weeks issue of 'Quiddich Weekly' and I kept busy perfecting Theresa's plays in my little black book.

"Oh my," She huffed dramatically. "Put the children down.."

I raised a brow as she turned the page. "I said down, you shit!" She said under her breath.

Another page was turned and she gasped. "DOWN!"

The magazine was launched into the air as she sprung to her feet. I smirked in amusement, snatching the issue from the floor and flipping to the page she was left on and I couldn't stop the chortles of laughter from escaping my lips.

The new seeker for the Vrasta Vultures, Viktor Krum, was photographed in Africa for a charity event and was holding a child in each picture on every page.

Jessica was pacing the front of the room, mumbling incoherent things to herself, until she leaned against McGonagall's desk holding her hand to her chin.

"He's out to get me." I heard her say. My laugh filled the classroom and she glared in my direction.

"Shut your mouth, Wood! At least nobody's after YOUR title!"

My laughter died down, but a smirk was still left on my lips. "Why are you so threatened by him anyway?"

You could see the rage in her eyes when I referred to Krum.

"He's after my spot. Little does he know, I get to play during the holidays! So ha! Stupid bloody Krum thinks he's soo smart, like he's better than me! He think's he's fast? We'll see who has the record for speed at the end of the season! It won't be him! Damned blockhead.."

Getting her all riled up was always a favorite pass time of mine.

"I mean, come on. He's a seeker! A seeker! Woo-hoo, you catch the bloody snitch! When I played the sodding Cannons they caught the snitch but we still won!"

I raised an amused eyebrow as I leaned back against the desk behind me, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Oi! Shut it already." I smirked at her gaping face.

Did I hit a nerve?

"You shut it!" She argued back. I chuckled, "Make me."

Both of her hands went behind her back and I thought she was going to push off of the desk, but instead she threw one of the professors books at my face.

I didn't even have time to dodge! She smirked smugly and raised her brows in triumph. "I believe I just did."

I scowled as I felt a bit of liquid run down my nose. Touching above my lip and glancing at my fingers I noticed the smear of blood.

"I think you better run." I warned, wiping the copper taste from my top lip.

"I do too," She giggled, running to the far side of the room. She pulled another book from a shelf and chucked it at me, hitting me square in the chest.

Pumping the air in victory, she tripped over a stray chair as she ran, landing on her belly with a yelp.

I gripped her by her legs and flung her body on top of a desk. "That wasn't very nice," I remarked.

She giggled nervously as she inched farther and further away on the table.

It won't be long before she- yep. She fell backward. I shook my head, not bothering to conceal the chuckle that left my mouth.

"Honestly, how thick could you get?"

She looked at me for what seemed like forever and I couldn't help but feel a sudden annoyance with myself.

Sitting on her bum before me was the girl who left me without another word.

Who never wrote back to any of my letters, only returned them. Completely unopened.

She couldn't even be bothered to read them?

Who avoided me like the plague when she knew she'd be anywhere around me for the last two years.

My so called 'best friend' who I've only seen on papers, magazines and posters.

Whose voice I've only heard on the radio until this September first.

The only person who I love more than quidditch. But just.

No! I should stop.

She left you, Wood. Remember?

No feelings.

You can't show her you still care.

It's obvious she doesn't.

"Wood? Cesari?" McGonagall's shrill voice interrupted our staring match

"What are you doing on the floor, Cesari? And Wood, why are you bleeding?" Her eyebrows rose.

"I tripped." Jessica said simply, pulling herself up and dusting her shorts off.

"Really?" She gave a doubtful look but didn't press the issue. "Here are your wands. You're free to go. Don't forget, 8 pm tomorrow evening."

"Yes, professor." She said, gathering her wand at the front then walking out the door without so much as a second glance in my direction.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"She made you bleed? I literally think i'm in love with her!" Rob laughed, falling back onto his pillows after I told him the night's events.

I glared up in his direction, finally peeling my eyes from my play book for the first time since I've arrived in the dorms. "You better watch your mouth, mate."

"Touchy?" He smirked. Rob pulled himself up from his cot and leaned against his bed post. "Let's have a bet."

I raised a brow, scribbled my last note down in my diagram and placed the book inside of my pillow case. "For what?"

His smirk grew, "I bet you can't make her fall back in love with you."

Although everything inside was screaming for me to decline, I stuck my hand out. "Who said she ever fell out?"

Rob made his way over and gripped my hand for a firm shake. "Twenty galleons for the winner, yeah?"

I nodded.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

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