Chapter 2 : No, This Is Not About Quidditch!
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Chapter 2: No, This Is Not About Quidditch!
“So you saw him kissing Betsy ‘Loosey- Goosey’ Walters?”
“Yes,” I stared down at my plate expressionlessly. My face was blank, yet my bright blue eyes held a bit of anger.
“Did he see you?”
“No,” I replied once more, too mentally and physically exhausted to reply with more than an one-worded answer. I had spent the whole previous night awake in my bed, tossing and turning.
“So you just attacked him, right out of the blue?”
“Yes,” I said once more.
“I told you I saw him running around with that little slag, Lindsey Brooks.”
“Cass, you sure do know how to make a girl feel better,” I said, finally looking up into the curious light brown eyes of my best friend Cassandra Whitehorn. I often found myself envying my friend. While I was not exactly anything to sneer at, I felt that Cass’s features were much more beautiful than my own. She was of a very slender and petite build. While I was much taller and a bit more muscular, my friend maintained a very dainty feminine physique. I suppose my figure was due to all the Quidditch. While Cassandra was extremely beautiful with her long, flowing dark-brown hair that always managed to be straight, no matter the weather, and her gorgeous doe shaped light brown eyes, she was never gifted when it came to the art of flying… or rather in her case, falling.
She had never attended the lessons in our first year. She had always had her father send in various letters, describing the girl’s frail condition. Which was all a load of bollocks really… While the girl was the size and shape of a twig, I have seen her in a catfight or two, and believe me she is anything but fragile.
Perhaps it was the fact that Cass was so much shorter than my 5’10” stature at only 5’4”, but I couldn’t help the envious glare that erupted on my face. Maybe that’s why that bastard cheated on me… I’m too bloody tall! I’ve heard that creeps some guys out. Well, if I was a guy, I’d definitely go for a short, skinny, dainty girl like my best friend.
I was stopped from my inner ranting of my own insecurities as Cass said, “Will you stop staring at me like that! You know you are gorgeous, and so does every other male in this school so do not try to pretend otherwise.”
I stared at her with a slightly shocked expression. Was I really that transparent?
“Yes, you are,” Cass replied with an eye roll, “Maybe it’s just the fact that I’ve known you for six years, but you’re like an open book Alex.”
I frowned at that. Deciding not to comment in my own mind, unless I wished to be figured out once more. This did not seem to get passed my overly sarcastic and extremely honest best friend, who decided it was better to just ignore me. I watched as she rolled her eyes once more, then redirecting her gaze to travel around the room, perhaps in a search for any more interesting gossip. Oh gossip, it was the one thing Cass, and I must admit that even I, lived for, a momentary lapse from the otherwise dull evening.
I watched as a single lock fell from her otherwise perfect arrangement of hair, landing on one of her high cheekbones. Cass always seemed to have the rather pompous air that comes with wealth. And she had every right to; her father was after all Devlin Whitehorn, the founder of the Nimbus broom company. This was another thing that astounded me. Quidditch ran through the Whitehorn’s almost as much as the Parkin’s, yet Cass was quite inept not only in the art of flying, but in Quidditch as well. I had to practically force her to go to see the matches with me in my first year. And I’m quite sure she lies to me when I ask if she went to see me play.
I watched as Cass’s eyes finally lit up with excitement. I turned, following her gaze, trying to see who was the target of today’s scandal. I groaned at the site of Roger. He was chatting up a rather young looking Ravenclaw, whose name I did not know. However, if I cared enough I would have asked Cass, she knew the low down of practically every person in this castle, including a few rather awkward rumors about Snape that I pray to Merlin were not true.
“Can we just pretend that Roger does not exist, or better yet, that he is dead!” I said moodily, turning back to my plate of untouched food.
“No, I can’t let this one go, “ she said, turning back to look at me with a mix of anger and mischievousness.
“Oh no, if you’re planning something, count me out, I’m not going to partake in anything that involves that slime bag,” I said with a mutinous look.
She rolled her eyes at me, a smile tugging at her lips, “We both know that Davies thinks that this is just going to be like last time. He thinks you two will make up and move on, well on your way again to becoming the most adored Quidditch couple of the century. Hell, he probably even thinks that you’ll both eventually end up on that team of your, the Wigton Walkers, and live happily ever after.”
“The Wigtown Wanderers,” I said, slightly exasperated at my friends obvious indifference for my favorite sport. “And I seriously doubt Davies wants to play for the Wanderers. He always struck me as a Tornadoes guy…”
In all honesty, I knew that this was a total lie. Davies had talked about the possibility of being on the same team on more than a few occasions, with not only me but my dad as well. My parents absolutely adored Roger and they were always upset to hear if we got into a tussle. They would say stuff like ‘Oh, I hope things work out, he’s such a pleasant lad that Roger.’ I suspected that both Roger’s parents and mine had already started organizing the wedding.
“Whatever you say…” Cass said with a smirk and then added, “but really, I think we should let Roger know that you’re no longer his for the taking.”
I raised an eyebrow at that, curiosity getting the best of me. “And how do you suppose we do that?”
A grin flitted across her face as she said, “We find you a man of course.”
I rolled my eyes at that, “I’ve done that before you know, every other time Roger and I have gotten in a fight.
“Yes, but you were only trying to make him jealous, and he was well aware of that fact. We need to find you a guy that’s just as, if not more, popular than Roger; someone that he would hate to see you with… someone like…” Her eyes roamed around the room, searching for her possible victim. “Marcus Flint.”
If I had decided to be less moody and eat my dinner I surely would have had quite a large amount of food ricocheting out of my mouth. However, I settled for a bit more subtle choking and sputtering sound.
“Fl-Flint?” I asked with a mingled look of disgust and disbelief.
“Well… he hates Flint, and he’s popular… at least everyone knows him. And best of all, he’s a Quidditch captain! Which will lead to possible match drama, at least something that will add to that otherwise dull sport.”
“Flint? As in that bloke over there,” I pointed wildly towards the Slytherin table, “the one that looks like he’s been hit one time too many with a beater’s bat? You don’t think that me going after Flint would be like me shouting, ‘Oh, Davies I wanted to make you jealous, but all I could find was this guy who looks a bit like a troll’?”
“Well, do you have any other suggestions?” She asked me seriously, crossing her arms and surveying me moodily, knowing I was entirely correct.
My eyes scanned around the room, taking in all the various students. I had no desire to pick any. This plan sounded a bit cliché really, but just as I was about to turn in the towel and tell Cass to just get over it already, my eyes landed on a tall, lean figure that had just entered the Great Hall.
I turned back to Cass with a smile, “I think I know the perfect person.”
“And the new seeker will be…” I paused a moment, staring at the nine hopeful Hufflepuffs,
There was a couple of cheers here and there, and a few disappointed grunts. I smiled happily at my tall, blonde friend, who grinned back with much enthusiasm, his eyes shining in happiness. My fellow teammates went over and clapped him on the back happily. After a few minutes, I signaled for the rest of the team to huddle around me.
“Alright, let’s get down to business. First off, welcome to the team Cedric!” A few more cheers of agreement followed, “And second, we need to discuss good practice days. So if you will each write on this sheet of parchment if you have any known events such as Gobstone Club or whatnot, and the days for them. After evaluating the sheet I’ll post the first practice date in the Common Room in the next couple of days. Any question?”
I was greeted by six shaking heads of ‘no’.
“Right, well,” I said grinning, clapping my hands together excitedly, “I was thinking we should get in a couple basic exercises, you know a few reverse passes, some Woollongong Shimmies… and of course a few Parkin’s pincers to start off the chasers.”
There were a few collective groans at this, but I ignored them.
“Oh and of course I need to make sure our new seeker has a descent enough Wronski Feint, have you ever tried?” I asked, addressing the attractive teen that was still wearing a yellow try-out kit.
“Uh, no I never tried it… but I’ve seen it done,” Cedric said slowly.
“Right,” I said contemplating this, after a moment I nodded and said, “well, you’ll get the hang of it after a few goes… don’t be discouraged if you hit the ground a couple of times, it happens to the best of us…”
Cedric’s face paled slightly at this.
“Alright, now let’s start will some basic warm-ups,” I said turning back to address the whole team, “Let’s start with ten laps around the pitch, you have to go around the goal posts, so don’t try any shortcuts or I’ll make you run on foot! Understand?”
My fellow teammates nodded, perhaps a bit grudgingly, but beggars can’t be choosers.
“Right, well get to it!” I said enthusiastically. They grabbed their brooms and pushed off, starting their laps. I stared at them for a few moments, making sure no one was cheating and then turned to grab my clipboard.
However, I was greeted with the sight of seven scarlet clad figures heading straight for me. I raised my eyebrow at the approaching group.
“Sorry Parkin, but I reserved the pitch from seven until nine tonight.” It was Oliver Wood who had spoken. He was a very attractive Gryffindor seventh year with a Scottish accent that I’ve heard has made many other girls swoon. Why am I not affected? I’m a Scot too. Though, I don’t have a Scottish accent. I moved to England when I was little so I had plenty of time to wheedle it out. However, I’ve been told that you can hear it still when I get angry. Anyway, Oliver Wood had short dark brown hair. He had a slightly burly, muscular build and he had very deep brown eyes. His face was currently set with determination. I can’t say that I knew much about Wood, true we had once been friends long before our Hogwarts years, but we had never rekindled any sort of relationship… well, we tried in my first year, but we gave up a few months in, eventually losing contact all together.
I smiled up at Wood, trying to look as if this bit of information was new to me; in fact I had checked the schedule to see when the Gryffindor’s first practice was. Why you might ask? Well let’s just say I needed an excuse to talk to Wood, who Cass and I determined was indeed the perfect candidate for my wooing. I mean he’s a Quidditch captain, and Roger was never exactly his number one fan. Plus he’s popular, and best of all he’s attractive, something that our dear Flint was extremely lacking.
“Oh really?” I asked trying my best to show an astonished expression. “I completely forgot our try-outs were to end at seven. Silly me,” I said sending him a sincere smile.
His lips twitched in a polite, yet forced smile. His team looked at me with interest, and in the middle I spotted Harry Potter. The rather skinny famous boy.
Forgetting my mission I said with a smirk, “You better be training Potter hard this year, Wood. We've got ourselves a new seeker. And he's bloody brilliant.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow at that, deciding whether to take than as an insult or just friendly banter. He appeared to suspect the former as he replied, “Our team members and their abilities really is no concern of yours Parkin. We will find out who's the best come Game Day.”
I tried very hard not to glare; deciding a full out argument really wouldn’t bode well with any possible future relationships.
“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean it like that Oliver,” I said plastering on my most seductive smile. His expression didn’t change. I frowned. “Right, well I’ll let you get to it then…” I turned back to my team, surprised to see them all hovering a few meters up, “Uh, right then team, I guess you heard the man, to the showers! Good job all of you! I’ll post the next practice up by tomorrow.”
They all turned and headed off towards the changing rooms. Satisfied, I twisted back around to talk to Oliver once more. But I found that he had already walked off. Damn! This was going to be harder than I thought.
“Wait, did you smile or did you smile at him?” I was sitting in my dormitory, chatting with Cass. We were both perched on top of my bed, discussing my disastrous first encounter with Wood.
“I smiled at him, hell I practically threw myself at him with that smile! I didn’t know how to make it more apparent!” I sighed, “Oh, this is stupid, it’s obvious he doesn’t like me!”
Cass frowned at that, “Of course he likes you! Every guy likes you! But really, in all honesty, he probably thought you were trying to weasel your way into knowing his Quidditch plans or something, you know how obsessive he is when it comes to that game. Even more than you are, and that's saying something!”
I contemplated this; it actually made a lot of sense.
“Fine, what do I do then?” I asked, giving in once more.
“Well, he’s a bit oblivious to tell you the truth,” Cass bit her lip, pondering the situation, “I think you should ask him to Hogsmeade, flirting alone won’t get you a date with this one. So just cut the bullshit and ask him yourself.”
I really did love her bluntness sometimes. I smiled and nodded, “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”
I stared determinedly at the Gryffindor table. Oliver was there; hunched over some papers I assumed were game plans. I looked at Cass who sent me a “just get the hell over there and ask already!” expression. I stood up from the bench, beginning to make my way towards the Gryffindor Table. However, my plan was thwarted as I passed the Ravenclaws and my arm was grabbed.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
I already knew who it was before I turned to face him.
“What do you want Davies?” I asked, my face hardening dangerously.
He rolled his eyes at me, marking my expression as ‘typical Alex behavior’. “I just want to talk to you about what happened, and that Betty girl.”
My expression turned from anger to pure disbelief.
“Betsy! Her name is Betsy! It’s sad that I can remember the name of the girl my boyfriend snogged better than he can!”
Roger smiled, a rather odd reaction. “So we’re still dating then?”
I stared at him, utterly confused for a moment, then realization hit me and I rolled my eyes angrily. “You were my boyfriend at the time, but I was telling the truth that morning in the Great Hall, it’s over! And there is no way in hell that I’ll come ‘crawling back to you’ again!” I turned and stalked away, now aware that half the Hall was staring at me, trying to find some more gossip no doubt.
I searched the Gryffindor table and was relieved to see that Wood had remained oblivious to everything that had just happened. I continued towards him. He didn’t look up as I approached him, so gathering my courage I took the seat across from him, before addressing him, a figure caught my attention in the corner of my eye. It was Roger, he was still standing there, staring furiously at my new position at the Gryffindor Table. This was too priceless; I had to make sure that Wood said yes no matter what. I smirked at him and then turned my gaze back to Wood. I jumped. He had apparently, woken from his mini-coma long enough to notice that he was not alone.
“What are you doing here?” He asked curiously.
“I- I uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday?” I took Cass’s advice and got straight to the point. Wood’s face was a mixture of shock and confusion. His right eyebrow rose extremely high.
I stared at him, confused, “What do you mean why?”
“Why would you want to go with me?” His expression then changed to suspicion as he added, “Is this about Quidditch?”
I tried very hard not to roll my eyes. Cass really was right; he’s more obsessed than I am.
“No,” I said with a smile, “I actually… well, we used to be really good mates before we came here… I wanted to… to catch up.”
His left eyebrow slide up joining his other, his suspicious expression was still there as he parroted, “Catch up?”
“Yeah… you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I glanced away from him, starting to feel both embarrassed and stupid. My cheeks were starting to feel a bit hot, but I tried to hold back my blush. Mustering up a bit more courage I added, “But I promise you this has nothing to do with Quidditch.”
“Um, alright then.”
I had been staring at a distant corner when he had said it. I quickly turned back to stare at him. He was smiled lightly at me, “I mean it would be nice to catch up.”
I smiled brightly at him, “Brilliant! See you Saturday?”
His smile grew as well, “See you Saturday.” He agreed.
A/N: Ok… so I have technically had this chapter written for about 3 weeks now… I have no idea why I didn’t post it. I think I thought I wasn’t finished or something. Anyway here it is! Please leave a review as I get moving on chapter 3!
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