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Oliver stared at her indignantly. "And keep McGonagall waiting? Have you lost your marbles?" From experience, McGonagall was not someone anyone should keep waiting. Professor aside, though, Wood had to admit that the prospecting of confirming Potter for the team was much more exciting than diving headfirst into a shelf of dusty books.
"What is a Seeker?" Maddelynn asked. Oliver nearly spit out his pumpkin juice in surprise. He stared at her in disbelief, bewildered beyond all recognition. Did this girl not have an inkling of Quidditch whatsoever? "What's a Seeker?" he repeated to make sure he didn't misunderstand her. "Are you pulling my leg right now? How do you not even know the basics of the best sport ever to ever be created? Were you born in a Muggle family? Did you not learn anything when we had Flying 101 during our first year here?" Oliver bombarded the girl with questions, desperate to make sense of the current situation. |
Maddelynn's aquamarine eyes rolled at the mention of her being crazy. Though, she would admit, keeping Professor McGonagall waiting was never wise, even over something as trivial as a game.
His reaction to her question, though, surprised her. She nodded when he confirmed her question and rolled her eyes again at his disbelief. She huffed and crossed her arms,"If it's so great, it wouldn't have been forbidden to me as a child. And no, I was not born in a Muggle family. I'm a pure blood, thank you very much." When he asked about the flying lesson, her arms loosened and slowly fell into her lap. Her face colored a deep shade of red and she glanced around. She gave a sigh and lowered her voice, "I didn't attend flying lessons. As if it were any business of yours, I have a debilitating fear of heights. My Grandmother wrote to Professor McGonagall and after a few heated meetings, I was excused from them." The color in her cheeks deepened some. She had just admitted that she was a witch who couldn't fly a broom. |
Oliver's eyes widened upon learning that the witch in front of him had never stepped on a broom before in her life. She had never experienced the wonderful soaring sensation of zooming around on a broom, had never felt the wind mess up her hair or get caught round her robes. Maddelynn had never watched as the people below grew fainter and fainter as she gathered more height on the broom, until eventually they were nothing put points on a map, infinitesimally small and nigh unnoticeable.
To say the least, Oliver was speechless. He tried imagining what his own life would be if his parents had forbade him from flying or watching Quidditch. No, he thought as he shook his head. That was unimaginable. He went through life living and breathing Quidditch; cutting that off from him was like cutting off a limb without Skele-Gro to grow his bones back. Painful. Crippling. "A fear of heights?" Oliver said, his voice softening considerably. "Why are you scared? You're a witch, after all, and flying's one of the best experiences there is in life." |
Maddelynn shook her head lightly, "Not for me."
She sighed and took a few bites of her soup and a sip of juice, "Listen, when I was five, my cousin was visiting. He's much older than I am. He was practically born on a broom and wanted to take me for a ride. He went much higher than I had expected, had no care for speed, and several times thought it would be a good idea to roll. Ever since then, I can't be up high without thinking about how frightened I was." Maddelynn's face slowly lost some of the color, returning to a normal shade of pale cream. She sipped her juice and avoided his eyes. It was a secret she wasn't fond of sharing. She was odd enough for her sense of propriety and traditional values. She didn't need to be viewed as a broom-less witch on top of it all. |
Oliver listened to Maddelynn's story intently. He was giving her the attention that he usually reserved for Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration lessons and the announcers for the Quidditch Cup. Hers was a sad one. Because of one misjudged incident, she had grown up shunning something that was, to say the least, wonderful.
Oliver decided right there and then that he'd change things. He wolfed down the rest of his sandwich and washed it down with another cup of Pumpkin juice. Gathering his belongings, he swung one leg over the bench and looked at Maddelynn. "Come on," he said as he gestured for Maddelynn to clean up. "I want to show you someplace. We'll do Quirrell's stuff after, I promise." He smiled what he hoped was his most dashing smile and cocked his head a bit, hoping to persuade her. |
Maddelynn sat quietly and finished her soup while Oliver wolfed down his lunch. She thought to comment on his rudeness, but she kept her mouth shut. It was a shared dining hall and she really couldn't tell anyone else how to eat. She moved her empty soup bowl away and gently dabbed her mouth with her napkin.
When he told her to come with him, she furrowed her brow. She looked up to him, about to scold him for putting off their work twice in a day, but she couldn't bring herself to say not to that smile. She pursed her lips and got up from her seat. She picked up her bag and smoothed over her skirt, "We shouldn't be too long. We really should go over the basics of our topic together." |
Oliver rolled his eyes in reply, hoping she didn't notice. "We'll work soon," he said as he hopped off the bench, slightly giddy with excitement. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed Maddelynn's hand and dashed out the doors of the Great Hall. Half leading, half dragging, Oliver and Maddelynn wound through surprised students and angry professors as they jogged down the corridors. Oliver led Maddelynn into the courtyard, where the cloudless blue sky was there to greet them. The sun warmed their faces as they slowed their pace down to a steady walk. Oliver smiled as the scent of fresh grass filled the air.
They made their way to the Quidditch field, where streaks of blue and silver were flitting across the pitch. "Ravenclaw's practicing right now," Oliver told Maddelynn as they found empty benches in the seating area. "The guy up there, by the goal posts, that's the Keeper." Oliver pointed at a lanky Ravenclaw guarding the three gold hoops off at the far end of the field. "He makes sure the opposing team doesn't score by keeping the Quaffle, that's the red ball there, from going into the hoops. In Gryffindor, I play Keeper." Oliver proudly thrust out his chest so Maddelynn could see the Captain badge gleaming off the sun. "Aside from the Keeper, there are six other players in a Quidditch team," Oliver continued as he started counting off his fingers. "There are three Chasers, they're called that cause they chase the Quaffle and try to shoot it into the other team's goal posts. Then there's two Bludgers per team, those are the blokes with the bats. In Gryffindor, we have the Weasley twins. Their job is to hit the Bludger, those small nasty buggers over there, at the opposing team to try to knock them off balance and stuff. And finally, we have the Seeker, whose job is to catch the Golden Snitch, a small gold ball. Whichever team's Seeker catches the Snitch first ends the game, and earns another hundred fifty points for their team." Oliver was talking more animatedly right now and his eyes almost seemed to glow from excitement. He stopped to catch his breath and realized he had just thrown a lot of information at Maddelynn. "Sorry," he said sheepishly as he tried to restrain more information from pouring out. "But yeah, that's the basics of Quidditch. McGonagall called me out in class because she had found Gryffindor another Seeker. You know, ever since Charlie Weasley left there's a big hole that needed to be filled. He's only a first year, but McGonagall swears he's a natural on the broom." Oliver grinned broadly as he looked straight into Maddelynn's bright aquamarine eyes. "One of these days, we're going to get you on a broom. You shouldn't let your prat of a cousin stop you from enjoying one of the best things in life." He sighed as he continued watching Ravenclaw practice, lost in thought once more over Potter, Quidditch, and the freedom of flying on a broom. |
Maddelynn was taken off guard when he grabbed her hand and started pulling her along. She tried her best to keep up with him, muttering apologies and 'pardon me's to the teachers and students she passed.
When they made to the courtyard, a small smile broke out on her face when she felt the sun. She was grateful when he slowed down. She walked with him toward the pitch, her stomach twisting up. She wasn't sure what he was up to. It was then that she noticed they were still holding hands. Her stomach dropped and she felt heat rise in her face. She figured it was probably as red as could be. She followed him into the pitch and took a seat next to him in the stands. She watched the players zoom back and forth on the pitch. It looked like a cluster of confusion up there. She didn't know who in their right mind could find this sort of thing entertaining. When Oliver began to explain the game, she tried to follow as best she could. "The Keeper protects the goal posts," she repeated, just so that he'd know she was paying attention. She looked to him and then to the badge on his chest, "And you are a Keeper." She followed him around the pitch, repeating snippets of his explanation. It seemed simple enough, but she wasn't following as well as she thought she would. When he finished and apologized for bombarding her brain with facts, she leaned back in the seat and listened to him explain about his meeting with McGonagall. She nodded lightly, but shook her head when he mentioned putting her on a broomstick. "Absolutely not, Oliver Wood. I'm not doing it. I refuse to ride a broom," her voice was forceful, but it held a twinge of fear and nervousness. The thought made her sick to her stomach. |
Oliver frowned at Maddelynn's blatant refusal to try flying. For Quaffle's sake, she was a witch. There must be a potion or something to cure acrophobia. He made a mental note to check for that when they were at the library. Challenge accepted, he thought to himself. I'll get Miss Scared of Heights on a broom if it's the last thing I do.
"How about a compromise?" he told her instead, leaning back against the bench with his hands behind his head as he watched the Ravenclaw team slowly dismount and leave the pitch. He lazily kicked his feet up onto the bottom bench and soaked in the autumn sun. "Come to our game for once. It's borderline blasphemous that you've gone to Hogwarts for four years and haven't cheered me on for three of those. Gryffindor versus Slytherin is in three weeks, and you can't miss our famous new Seeker." He grinned and leaned towards her. "Can you keep a secret?" |
Maddelynn sat in silence while she watched the Ravenclaw team finish their practice and head inside. She turned to him when he mentioned a compromise. When he asked her to come to the game, she frowned, "I don't know, Oliver. I'm not sure I'd enjoy myself."
She squirmed in her seat when he leaned in and asked if she could keep a secret. She raised a thin eyebrow and nodded lightly, "What sort of secret?" |
"I don't know, Oliver. I'm not sure I'd enjoy myself," Maddelynn said as she frowned. Oliver resisted the urge to launch into another rant about she shouldn't base the rest of her life off of one bad experience. Was one supposed to hate Chocolate Cauldrons for the rest of their life after tasting one stale one? He tried imagining what his life would have been if he had quit Quidditch after breaking his nose during his second-year. Shaking his head inwardly, he couldn't imagine it. You don't cry and run away after a bad experience. You suck it up, go back on your broom, and get even.
Looking at Maddelynn, Oliver knew she was different. They were very different people, he mused. What on Earth had possessed him to sit in that seat during class, and why was he trying so hard to prove to her that flying was an enjoyable experience. Was he-- "I'll tell you if you promise to come to the next game," Oliver said as he grinned slyly. "I'm not asking you to fly, just to watch. The entire school comes out for the Quidditch matches anyways. How you escaped them for four years is beyond my understanding." |
Maddelynn squirmed and crossed her arms. She noticed his grin. 'He thinks he's so clever,' she thought. She smirked, "Now why would I sacrifice a whole Saturday for a secret about Quidditch..when I don't like Quidditch?"
She looked around the pitch. She could definitely imagine all the seats full of screaming students. She crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt over. She brushed her bangs aside and looked to him, "Why do you insist that I go to this game?" |
"Now why would I sacrifice a whole Saturday for a secret about Quidditch..when I don't like Quidditch? Why do you insist that I go to this game?"
Oliver shook his head, slightly exasperated. "How can you not like Quidditch when you haven't even seen a game?" he asked. "It's like me saying I don't like Chocolate Cauldrons because I've never had them. Just doesn't make sense. Live a little, girl. It's not fun to be all strict and book-nosing all the time. But I can't make you come if you really don't want to. You're just missing what may be the best game ever." Oliver shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. He could hear the warning bell ring from the distance. "Anyways, I'd like you to come, not just for me but because I think it'd do you some good," he said as he started making his way down the stadium. "But come on, we're going to be late for class." |
Maddelynn sighed and brushed her bangs aside irritably. The wind put them back in their annoying place, however.
Maddelynn rolled her eyes while he made his case, "Did you happen to think that maybe I don't want to give it a try? Sitting here right now is fine. It's quiet. I like quiet. Sitting here watching a game I don't even begin to understand, squashed between screaming students I barely know, does not sound like fun to me. And for your information, my life is fun. I may live life very differently than you do, but I enjoy my life the way it is." Maddelynn followed him out of the stands, but the moment they made it to the field leading up to the castle, she over took him. This was why she distanced herself from her peers. When she reached out to them, they either shunned her or tried to change her to suit their needs and likes. |
Oliver shook his head as he walked down from the stands and made his way to Transfiguration with McGonagall. This girl was stubborn, he'd give her that, but she was also so different. Students she barely knew? They were her classmates, for Snitch's sake. It's a wonder he hadn't recognized her as part of Gryffindor until today.
Ambling into class, he took a seat towards the front and looked up at McGonagall. The head of Gryffindor house was the same as always, dressed to a tee in robes and an off-center witch's hat, staring sternly at the students making their way into class. She commanded respect without the yelling and hoo-ha's of other teachers. No one dared to cross her, and even Oliver, who considered himself closer to McGonagall than others because of their Quidditch background, kept his mouth shut and posture straight as he sat in his class. McGonagall started class with a reiteration of how the class was going to be much harder than what they had experienced during their fourth year, as this was the year where they would be taking the dreaded Ordinary Wizarding Level classes. Oliver's heart sank as she went into a tangent about O.W.L.s; he was an average student, neither excellent nor dreadful. His true talent lay on the Quidditch field, but he knew McGonagall would show no preferential treatment in class. Sighing, he took out his books and tried understanding the fundamentals behind transforming the rat in front of him to a deck of playing cards. Every so often, he'd glance at Maddelynn, and rolled his eyes as she appeared to be getting much farther in her transfiguration than him. "This girl," he muttered underneath his breath as he jabbed at the rat once more. |
Maddelynn huffed as she reached the castle. She wasted no time in getting herself upstairs for class. She couldn't understand him. He had just met her officially and already he was trying to force something that sounded awful down her throat.
Hurrying into class, she claimed a seat in the front and waited patiently for class to start. While Professor McGonagall explained, in great detail, the nature of their O.W.L.'s, Maddelynn took notes on the subject. She could better prepare herself if she could look back later at what was expected when the exam began. Of course, she was sure that every teacher would soon be spewing information about O.W.L's at every given chance. When their actual lesson began, Maddelynn slid her notes aside to dry and began practicing. Spending her weekends inside was certainly paying off. She was having little trouble with the task at hand. She gave, what she thought, was a subtle glance to Oliver while he worked. She frowned, watching him struggle. After successfully performing the spell multiple times, McGonagall gave her the okay to stop and sit quietly until the rest of the class was on the same page. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and watched Oliver for a while, trying to subtle and failing miserably. |
Oliver still hadn't gotten the hang of it. Maddelynn had been praised and told to stop ten minutes ago, and here Oliver was, still jabbing and waving his wand, attempting to transfigure his rat. It scuttled towards the end of the table and Oliver had to grab it to keep it from running away from him. Clenching his teeth together, he concentrated as hard as he could and muttered the incantation again. He let out a gasp of glee as the rat changed into a deck of cards, albeit a furry one and the tail was still dangling out from the end.
"More practice, Wood," Professor McGonagall said as she walked by. Oliver nodded his head, "Yes, Professor," but he was picking up his furry cards happily. This was progress, no doubt about it. The bell signaling the end of class rang soon afterwards and McGonagall dismissed them all with a paper and a warning to practice more. Oliver grinned sheepishly as she gave him a pointed look; obviously he needed a lot of practicing. As the rest of the class poured out of the classroom, Oliver stayed behind. He had some Quidditch discussions to speak to McGonagall about. "Professor McGonagall?" he started as the class soon became relatively empty. "Do you think I book the Quidditch field tomorrow night, not for practice, but just to show Potter the ropes? We don't need tryouts as my team is pretty set. We were only missing a Seeker, and well, you solved that for us. So instead of the tryouts time, I'd like to change it to training Potter time." McGonagall quickly gave him her assent, and Wood exclaimed his quick thanks. He couldn't wait to go tell Potter the news. |
Maddelynn watched Wood for a while longer, but looked away when she realized she was staring too long. She dug through her bag and got out a book to pass the time for the remainder of the class.
When the bell rang, she cleaned up her things and left the class room. Potions with the Slytherins. She wasn't looking forward to it. It wasn't just because she disliked the Slytherins, but Professor Snape made her uncomfortable. She started the long trek to the dungeons. As she walked, she thought about what she had said to Oliver. She felt guilty. She didn't understand why, but there it was, weighing heavily in her gut. Huffing quietly, she decided to check the library later for a book on Quidditch. Perhaps if she understood it a little better, she could work up a bit of excitement and go see the game he was so excited about. |
His talk with McGonagall had cut into his travelling time for his next class, which was unfortunately Potions with Professor Snape. Oliver would have had no beef with the head of Slytherin house had Snape not interfered so much with Quidditch practices. Oliver could not even count the number of times the Gryffindor team had booked the field only to find out that Snape had somehow slithered his team through.
He rushed in just as class was starting, in the nick of time, and made his way towards a seat. As luck would have it, he was sitting next to none other than Maddelynn. For some reason he as seeing quite a lot of her lately. "Hey," he said quickly in greeting before Snape hushed the entire class and had them all start brewing the Draught of Living Death. Pulling out his book, he sighed in anticipated frustration as he looked through the steps. No doubt this was O.W.L. level work. |
Maddelynn had chosen a seat in the middle of the room. In her experience, Snape generally left the students in the middle of the room alone. It was the front and the back he picked on. The front was convenient and the back was full of students hoping to hide from him. She got out her supplies without a word and waited for class to begin.
When Oliver sat beside her, she was a little surprised. She had expected him to seat himself as far away from her as possible. She put no stock in it due to the fact that there were no seats left around them. He had been one of the last to arrive, if not the very last. It was coincidence. She gave him a polite smile and muttered, "Hello." When Snape told them to begin, Maddelynn took a deep breath and looked over the directions. It seemed manageable. ..Perhaps. Her stomach knotted and she took another breath. 'One step at a time,' she told herself. She glanced over to Oliver, wondering, briefly, how good he was at Potions. |
Oliver lit a fire under his cauldron as he started gathering all the ingredients. Like Transfiguration, Potions was not his strong suit. It was too methodical, too exact a subject for Oliver to give much credit to it. That said, he had to try his hardest because Professor Snape was not someone you wanted to cross. "Three clockwise stirs," he muttered feverishly under his breath. "Or was it three counter-clockwise?" Frustration rising in his head, he turned to his book and quickly flipped through the pages to the potion. Why had all the words seemed to turn into mush whenever he tried reading them in class? He squinted his eyes as he peered at the page of instructions, hoping the letters would make some vague sense in his head. Oliver was so concentrated in reading the instructions that he hadn't noticed his cauldron had been set aflame. |
Maddelynn gathered her materials and carried them to her work station. She lit a fire under her cauldron and took a deep breath.
Maddelynn worked quietly and took care in reading each of the directions. Sometimes, though, she had to read through them twice. The language in these books could be tricky sometimes. She breathed a small sigh and moved on to the next step. Or she would have had Oliver's cauldron not caught on fire. In a moment of panic, she let out a noise almost similar to a duck quack, albiet quite a girly duck. She slapped Oliver's shoulder to get his attention, a bit too hard, but it was unintentional. She snatched up her wand and squawked out a charm to spray water on it. ~: Sorry it took so long! I planned to reply when the site came back on, but it wouldn't let me for some reason :\ :~ |
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