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Of All the Faulty Bludgers by mayday
Chapter 13 : Doing Naughty, Naughty Things
 
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Snooping is very naughty.


Not Snoopy or Snoop Dog (who I heart), but the act of snooping is just a no-no. It’s one of the rules of society and niceity that I don’t follow because here I am snooping like the snoopy snooper that I am!


I blame Ian.


Damn him, trying to quench my curiosity.


He’s to bloody smart for his own good. This is why I can’t be around people who make Hermione look like Ron Weasley... if you know what I mean.


There I was innocently eating my cookies like I always do at lunch time and then Coach Edwin comes in, dragging Wood out like, like.... she’s building a fire out of.... Wood (hehe).... and it’s really cold and the heat isn’t working and she’s left her wand at the local feminist meeting...


Okay, ignore that.


Any who, I found another git-of-a-male to put on my men-are-the-sum-of-the-universe list.


And don’t you think it’s Oliver Wood, he’s the person who inspired me to make the bloody list. Two words. Ian Quaker.


URGH! He’s a liar too, he’s not even a QUAKER!


Or... is he?


Oh no, now it’s ON!


He’s a Quaker and I’m Catholic.... I think...


Whatever showdown on the Quidditch pitch tonight! BO-YAH!


You’ll know I’ll win, wink, wink. Now, back to snooping. Here I am in front of Coach’s office trying to listen to the conversation she’s having with my new best friend (snort) Oliver.


Not eavesdropping, listening.


Eavesdropping is rude and you all know that I’m the farthest thing from rude.


.......


...........


.................


HAHAHAHAHAHA!


“Umm.. excuse me, can I help you?”


“AHHH!”, I screamed turning around to see a large black man standing behind me.


Thank the lord, it’s only Paco.


“Quaking Quakers Paco! You scared the bejesus out of me!”, I breathed clutching my chest in relief.


“I apologize Miss,” he responded in a serious tone.


“You are forgiven Paco, now if you’ll excuse me,” I replied leaning my ear to the door once more.


“Ah, Miss?”


What are we in the 16th century! I have a name Paco! You should at least have the decency to remember it.


“Oi, James!”, a voice asked, the figure of Kenny Bryce coming down the hallway.


Great. Fabulous. Just what I need, witnesses.


Can’t a girl just listened into her frenemy’s conversation with his big cheese and just be done with it!


Giggle.


Do you know who has some really big cheese?


“James my man, haven’t seen you around!”


Well- wait....who the hell is James?


“What’s going on James?”


I looked at the repulsive face (humph!) of Kenny Bryce astounded. He sure as hell better not be calling ME James. I almost kissed him for goodness sake, he sould at least know my name!


I mean it’s not that hard: Ruthie.


R-U-T-H-I-E



I’ll even respond to nicknames like; Ruth, Rudy, Tia, Sparks, Sparky, Sparkles, Ru (only if you’re Roger or Katie), lass (if you’re Oliver Wood and you want to get your arse kicked), clumsy, crazy, insane.... adorable!


I’ll respond to anything, but NOT James


That’s just too far.


I’m a FEMALE gosh darn it!


“Oh hello Sparks, didn’t see ya there,” Kenny responded his eyes laughing at me.


Forget Ian and his Quakerness... I rather destroy Bryce. It will more fun to see his remains spread across the pitch than Ian’s... or hell even Wood’s!


And that mis amigos is really saying something.


“Nice to see you’ve finally learnt my name,” I chirped back narrowing my eyes.


Kenny gave me a confused look, “What?”


Oh, play the innocent little lamb. Well I have news for you Bryce, I like lamb chops!


MEDIUM RARE BABY!


BAHHHHHH!


“You know what!” I countered back smacking my lips together.


Kenny shared an exasperated look with Paco who just shrugged. Yeah well guess what Bryce, Paco isn’t going to be your shepherd so go wander well I come after you like a wolf!


Like a wolf!


HOWL!


“Actually I don’t.”


If it’s one thing I’ve learnt from my lengthy experience with men is, they’re all liars.


Every single one.


Except you Roger my love, you would never lie to me.


“Sparks! SPARKS!”


What? I was knocked out of my Roger daydream to see Kenny standing in front of me annoyed.


“Ruthie, I know you’re extremely ADD, but you never answered my question.”


“Well you never answered mine!” I replied back taking a predatory step towards him.


Ba dum, Ba dum, hungry like the wolf!



“You never asked me a question!”, Kenny said rolling his eyes.


“Yeah I did,” I replied slowly.


Jesus, see what I told you. Liars, the whole lot of them!


Tehe... I did ask a question... right?


“No, you didn’t!”


“Yes, I did!”


“No.”


“YES!”


“No.”


“YES!”


“No and why are you shouting?”, Kenny asked looking at me like I needed to be locked up.


Ha, you think that look my intimidate me or make me feel bad. Well, you’re so wrong Mr. Bryce, Fred Weasley has already claimed that look for years so there you... SQUARE!


“I AM NOT SHOUTING!”



Kenny took a dramatic step back from me colliding with Paco who looked terrified.


Like the wolf my friends, like the wolf!


“Okay, I’m going to go,” Kenny said speed walking out of the room, Paco following closely behind him.


“YEAH RUN AWAY YOU SQUARE LAMB!”
, I yelled (not shouted) after their retreating figures.


Cowards, that will teach Kenny-ba-ba-black-sheep-Bryce to call me James!


.....

I’m no man!

........

I’ve decided that due to this moment, I’m changing my name to Ima Wolf.

.............

 Mmmmm, lamb.

.........................


Bollocks, now I’m hungry.



Cookies really don’t satisfy the stomach of a wolf.


Where’s Paco! I want some lamb tacos!


AYE AYE AYE!


 * * * * * * * *




Oliver POV

So this is it, the end. It’s come to this. I don‘t care if I bloody adore her, I’m going to throttle that girl. If it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t have even been in this position in the first place.


Ruthie Sparks.


Damn her.


“I assume you know why you are here Mr. Wood,” Coach Edwin replied looking at me over her spectacles.


I shuddered, she’s always had a rather creepy resemblance to Professor McGonagall. That woman scared the hell out of me and only Coach Edwin frightens me even more.


“Yes, yes ma’am,” I replied rubbing my neck nervously.


Coach was about to reply, but first cast a quick silencing charm.


“You never know who might be listening,” she mused placing her wand back down on the desk.


I rolled my eyes thinking of my favorite brunette.


“I’ve just had a brief meeting with Mr. Piddle-”


My eyes widened, oh no.


The owner of Puddlemere United.


Damn.


“-and he has informed me of something quite important.-”


Yes, this was it. The end of my Keeping career.


No more long grueling practices. No more injuries.


Bruises.


Feeling like you’re going to throw up before each match.


No more sweaty afternoons or early mornings.


“-The head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports has decreed-”


No more annoying media.


Screaming fans.


Girls throwing themselves out of the stands.


Intense rivalries.


Wins. Losses. Scores. Saves.


No more.


I could just picture the look on my father’s face right now, he’d be so disappointed.


“-that we have a post season game.”


My head snapped up immediately.


“What?”, I asked fiercely.


Why?


The regular season was over and after Christmas the playoffs would begin for the European Cup. Actually, the entire Quidditch league stopped playing post season games since the the star seeker for the Cannons got pushed of his broom in 1896 when they played the Wasps.


xShudderx


The Christmas Curse of 1896.


That’s what the Cannons fans refer to it as because apparently since then, they haven’t won a single important game.


Sure, that’s the reason.


Everybody knows that post season Quidditch only means one thing: injuries. Lots and lots of injuries.


In fact in every single post season game ever on Christmas, there has been at least one player that has been forced to leave the game.


It’s always a bloody brawl.


And the stupid thing is, post season games don’t mean anything. It’s just a chance for each team to show off.


Coach Edwin rubbed her face looking more tired than I’ve ever seen her, “I know, I have talked to Mr. Piddle, but he will not see reason. We are playing Christmas day against the Cannons.”


Christmas Day.


Against the Cannons.


Bloody Hell.


“They are getting good too. Davies is on fire, I’ve never seen anything like it, he hits every single shot and if they win the Cannons go the the playoffs.”


I snorted, the Chudley Cannons haven’t been to the playoffs in over thirty  years! They’d need a miracle to win.


Wait a second, “I thought post season games aren’t suppose to count!”


Coach sighed, “They aren’t, but the Cannons threatened to relocate the team to the states if the league wouldn’t allow it. The fans would have gone nuts, and you know how they are.”


I have to give it to the Cannons, they have the most loyal fans in the entire league. Only they after over a century of not winning the cup would that team still  have screaming fans dressed in orange.


“Bloody hell,” I replied groaning.


“I know, but we’re lucky it’s a home game. Inform the team immediately, practice in an hour.”


I nodded and started to rise when Coach said, “And Wood, tell Miss Zane to suit up.”


I froze horror.


Maria Zane, the backup Keeper.


“Coach, I can explain-”


She quickly interrupted, “-I do not want to hear your excuses Mr. Wood. Puddlemere United does not tolerate the kind of behavior you have been exhibiting.-”


“-But Coach!”


She shot me a stern look, “You should consider yourself very lucky. I wanted to have you suspended for the rest of the season, but Mr. Piddle is a gracious man.”


“Coach I have to play, I have too! We’re playing the Cannons! There is no way in hell Zane can play against Davies, I know him. I’ve seen him play. I’m the only person who knows Davies’ strengths and weaknesses! Does Maria know about Davies’ weak double cross over, NO!”, I shouted breathing heavy.


I have to play, I have to.


Coach Edwin motioned for me to sit back down and a thoughtful look crossed over her face. She was silent was one long moment.


“Here’s the deal Wood. I’ll let you play-”


A huge grin stretched across my face. Perfect, now all I have to do is break out my old play book and-


“-if and only if Miss Sparks leaves the facility.”


My grin was gone in a flash.


“What?” I asked outraged.


“I have nothing against your girlfriend Mr. Wood, but you know the rules. Clear eyes on the pitch.”


“Clear eyes?”


“No distractions,” she replied sternly.


Distractions.


She had absolutely no bloody idea.


Ruthie Elizabeth Sparks was a lot more to me than a distraction.


“Mr. Wood?”


I’ll probably kick myself for this later, but....


“I’ll go tell Maria to suit up,” I replied in monotone rising from my seat.


Coach looked at me shocked, but not disappointed... like she expected me not to play all along.


I turned away from her knowing face and walked towards the door until her voice stopped me dead in my tracks.


“Mr. Wood, Being captain of this team it is your responsibility to set an example for everyone else. You are a leader Mr. Wood, start acting like one.”


I turned the knob of the door, “Oh one more thing. Do tell her Oliver, the suspense is killing me.”


Tell who what?


I shook my head at the thought and swung open the door-


THUD!


“Ophff!”



I honestly should have known.


There sat the girl I am in love with sitting on the ground rubbing her bottom muttering about lamb tacos.


Lamb what?


Honestly I worry about her. Sometimes I think Ruthie could give that Lovegood girl a run for her money.


“Eavesdropping?”, I asked amused.


She stuck her tongue out at me pushing her brown hair away from her face, “No, it’s not polite to eavesdrop!”


Because Ruthie is so polite.


“Curiosity killed the cat,” I replied in a singsong voice grabbing her arms pulling her up.
Once she was on her feet she stepped away from me and crossed her arms haughtily.


“I’m allergic to cats, so the curiosity can kill them for all I care,” she replied.


Only Ruthie would say that.


“Come on killer let’s go, I have to round up the team.”


“Why?”, she asked tilting her head to the side.


“We have a game next week against the Cannons,” I said a bit sadly.


Her eyes lit up and she starting doing that annoyingly adorable bouncing thing again. She bounced over to me and asked, “Really! Can I go?”


I frowned, “Sure if you want.”


Why is she so excited?


“Cool! It’s going to be just like the old matches at school! You against Roger,” she replied sighing out his name.


Oh that’s why.


Usually whenever she went into convulsions over his name, it would send me into a jealous frenzy, but since the guy is so obviously gay... I’ll cut him some slack.


“I’m not playing,” I responded almost painfully.


“Why?”, she asked shocked with her jaw dropped.


She honestly thought I lived and breathed Quidditch.


Well, I sort of do.


“Post season games don’t really matter, I thought it might be nice to give the back-up Keeper some playing time,” I lied easily. There is no need for Ru to know. She’d only feel guilty or in her case probably ecstatic that her evil plan worked.


“Oh,” Ruthie replied looking up at me almost disappointed, “that’s very sweet of you, I guess.”


Sweet?


Hardly.


“Come on lass, let’s go,” I said ushering her down the hallway to find the rest of the team.


This is not going to be pretty. They are going to freak, but I’d rather not play at all then play without Ruthie there.


As much as I love Quidditch at the end of the day, it’s just a game. I remember a time when it was my entire life. I looked down at Ruthie who at that exact moment walked straight into a wall.


“PICNICKING PROTESTANTS!”


I smiled and shook my head.


I must be crazy, hell I probably am.


* * * * * * *





That Night- Wood's Bedroom
(hehe)

Ruthie’s POV


“Oi, Oliver”, I whispered poking his sleeping figure to the side.


He groaned and rolled over.


Prat.


“Wood, wake up!”


I poked his harder in the back.


“WOOD!”


“Ruthie?”, he asked his voice groggy.


No, it’s Roger Davies.


Wouldn’t that be sweet!


“What is it lass,” he asked with his eyes still closed.


“Can I have a sleepover," I asked in my sweetest voice.


I’ve learned from men whenever you want something, you always ask when they are most vulnerable either when they are half asleep, during meals, or during... well when naughty things are occurring.


Not that I know about those things, I’m not a slag thank you very much!


“Sure, whatever you want,” he muttered before falling back into a deep slumber, snoring all the while.


Men! They’re all the same.


I snuggled back in the covers of Wood's bed (never thouught I'd say that) content.


Tommorow is going to be a good day.


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