Chapter 1 : Chapter 1-This Means War
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"You have to know the past to understand the present."
chapter image by:Chella[thanks you so much!]
The demand “Somebody wake Allison up,” was made accompanied by an eye roll from the demander.
“Why? She looks in desperate need of a good snooze.” A brown haired young man chuckled not averting his attention from a pile of papers with chicken scratch from top to bottom.
“Because she’s having that same dream again. And last time we let her sleep through it she punched poor George here right square in the face,” Fred Weasley replied lightly patting his brother’s knee and releasing a barely audible laugh.
“And I personally would much rather share a compartment with the girly who practically flooded us out over the sight of you Oliver,” Turning to his twin and shaping his lips in a pout George continued, “ She punches really hard. It hurt a lot.”
“Just be thankful she didn’t break your nail you ninny!” Oliver teased kicking George’s shin.
“That bloody hurt you arse!” George said scolding Oliver and holding his shin.
“…Pureblood hierarchy…” Allison mumbled pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head against the window.
“I swear to Merlin if someone does not wake her up this instant I will quit the quidditch team and won’t talk to both of you mingers for the rest of the term.”
“That’s just pants, that is!” George exclaimed.
“Yeah, you would actually force me to find another beater after I’ve written all these plays with you in mind?” Oliver agreed, irately waving his clutter of papers at Fred.
“You shouldn’t be so gutted considering the fact that you wrote those plays two years ago.” Fred retorted, Oliver’s threat not even receiving a flinch.
George assessed his brother’s seriousness with a furrowed brow then shook the curled figure beside him. “Oy!” he bellowed, “wake up you.”
“Bugger off!” Allison muttered whilst swatting unknowingly near her and hitting George in the face. As if rehearsed, Fred and Oliver both broke out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
“Oh for Merlin’s sake!” George yelped and grabbed his injury. “I may be dim but I am definitely not stupid enough to try and wake her again.”
“The sad fact of the matter is,” Ronald Weasley began as he popped his head into the open compartment with a goofy grin plastered on his face, “that you are stupid enough to do that again.”
“Clear off you lot! Before we make you eat another nosebleed nougat.” Fred threatened turning Ronald’s smile upside down. Ronald then departed with a girlish shriek that made all the boys snicker.
“In all seriousness mate, just hit her,” Oliver offered with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I don’t know about you mate, but my mum taught me to never hit a girl. Let alone one that will hit back,” George declared with perfect honesty.
“The only thing that makes her a girl is she has all the girly bits. In every other sense, she’s a man.” Oliver alleged. “You might even check to see if she has… well, those things. On second thought, let me check,” Oliver observed with his perfected smirk forming on his face.
“You must have a death wish Wood,” Fred joked. “If Allison could hear what you’re saying and what you’re trying to do, she’d ‘Crucio’ you without a second thought towards her actions.”
“She would, wouldn’t she? Such a typical pureblood thing to do,” he said continuing his lean across the compartment.
“Then that’s that. I guess there really is no getting any shut eye with you chatty Cathy’s in the room,” Allison scolded sitting up and rolling her eyes. With a conspicuous and graceless jolt, Oliver threw himself against the seat and attempted to act as serene as possible.
“Were you listening the entire time?” George asked with a little fear in his voice and sweat on his forehead.
“No, should I have been?” Allison answered in a suspicious tone.
“No!” he exclaimed.
Ignoring the fact that George’s reply made her curious and apprehensive at the same time, Allison proceeded to ask the boys about the events of their vacation.
“My vacation was about as enjoyable as listening to you talk in your sleep,” Oliver said with a look of distaste and a raised eyebrow.
“What’s he got up his butt?” Allison asked jokingly.
“He spent the whole summer chasing after some girl, and now he has no new plays for the team to run.” Fred said matter of fact-ly.
“Wicked! That means I won’t be woken up by Katie when she leaves for morning practice.” Allison beamed.
“Morning practices will remain a daily event,” Oliver proclaimed when Allison’s excitement spread to Fred and George’s faces. “You look like you could use the morning exercise and then some Stapleton.”
“Perhaps you should stop gawking at the body of a fitty, and think of some new plays. The Slytherin’s have already memorized your plays from last year, you know that right?” she asked raising her eyebrows.
“Those slimy, scaly…”George started.
“No good, rotten vermin,” Fred finished. “I still can’t believe they stole your playbook last year.”
“And got away with it, none the less.” George added nodding in agreement with his brother.
“They stole Wood’s play book? How? When?”Allison inquired.
“That’s the thing, no one knows when or how it happened. Alls we know is his playbook disappeared and when it came time to beat those Nancy boys in quidditch, they were prepared for our every move,” George explained with a bit of excitement.
“Oy, shut your gab! Nosey over here needs to learn to mind her own. Even if she doesn’t understand a thing about quidditch, she has no business in my affairs.” Oliver pouted.
“Don’t be such an ass Wood,” Allison warned chucking a book at him.
“You don’t know one thing about quidditch love, and all of Hogwarts knows it.” Oliver retorted throwing it back with an extremely uncalled for force.
“Fortunately for me, I have the advantages that come with being wealthy. I don’t need to straddle a broom and savagely chase and hit balls around a field for the sake of entertainment.” Allison defended.
“Is that what your crazy mum described quidditch as? That sounds about accurate from the viewpoint of a simple-minded pureblood.” Oliver said adding a tone of repulsion on the word pureblood.
“Yes, actually, that is exactly where I learnt that description from,” Allison raised her voice and casting a glare to Oliver.
“With thoughts like that, it’s a wonder your father didn’t die from the embarrassment of having such a dim-wit wife,” Oliver bellowed. “And you’re so brainwashed into acting like a pureblood, it’s disgusting!”
“Offend me, I can easily forgive. A rude remark about my mother’s mental state is nothing I haven’t heard before. But when you ridicule my father, things get personal. Take it back Wood!” She demanded clenching her jaw.
“Not a chance in hell, I meant what I said.”
“Listen mate, maybe you should just take it back,” Fred reasoned.
“Yeah, just apologize Wood,” George recommended.
A long silence pierced the compartment as Oliver crossed his arms and refused to deliver any sort of apology. After Oliver had successfully riled Allison up by presenting numerous amounts of mocking faces, he found himself in an sudden predicament as she lunged towards him and wrapped her hands around his neck.