There's no 'I' in Team

by Elinai

Katie Bell and Oliver Wood: they make a formidable pair on the Quidditch pitch, but it'll take some convincing by the Weasley's, Angelina and Alicia to prove they make an excellent pair off the Quidditch pitch as well. Hum, Rom, action. Longish story. COMPLETE (finally!)

41. Found Out

Name: Oliver Wood.
Age: 18. Happy birthday me.
Hair: Celebratory
Current Location: In my bed, trying to make an extraction plan
Current Mood: Amused

"Ah-hem," came a florid cough from the foot of my bed. I flicked my eyes over the source of the noise.

"Weasley," I growled.

Why is one of them always in my business? If it's not Percy ignoring the 7th Years' free-pass policy, it's Fred driving a flying Ford Angela into a Quidditch practice (excuse: 'It is ours, Oliver.Might as well get some use out of it'*), or George throwing my wand into a pile of Whomping Willow cuttings. Whomping Willow off-cuts still have a potent kick to them, by the way: more of a sharp sting than a solid wallop.

Bell let out a similar groan of disappoint, but I'm assuming her disappointment was due to yet another person lining up in the parade that was interrupting her sleep in.

"Students at Hogwarts," Percy began nasally, "are not permitted to share beds."

"Fine," Bell said, and literally shoved me out of my own bed.

Percy gaped at me, in my tracksuit trousers and raggety t-shirt (told you Weasley, nothing to see here. Get your mind out of the gutter), and then over at the bunched up blanket that now encased Katie Bell.

"Students," Percy resumed, "are only allowed to sleep in their allocated bed."

I raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed. It took a certain sort of person who could be confronted with any obscure or bizarre sight and, without a beat of hesitation, effortlessly quoted the rules being flouted. It also took a certain kind of bravery to stand in front of a pissed-off Bell and still keep talking.

There was no sound from the blanket on the bed. There was a little opening, but nothing could be seen in the darkness. No face, no eyes, nothing. Just a silent, black void that emanated silent, black hostility.

Percy called on the well-used defence he often hid behind when confronted with livid rule-breakers. "You need to be back to your area in five seconds, Miss Bell, or it's five points from Gryffindor."

Without once glimpsing a limb or any part that indicated Bell was underneath powering it, the entire blanket slithered off the bed and disappeared around the door.

* A/N: should you wish to capture your own flying car from the wild, successful traps are baited with high-octane fuel and those little spigot cans of oil.