Chapter 6 : To Scrimmage, or Not to Scrimmage?
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else JK Rowling has written. I own all the OCs including Alex, though I don't own her surname, Parkin.
Ch 6: To Scrimmage, or Not to Scrimmage?
“Why does Professor Snape always insist on giving up such long and boring essays to write?” I asked to no one in particular as the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw sixth years exited the dungeons.
“Because he’s Snape,” said Karen Quinby, a Hufflepuff girl that I shared my dorm with. She was nice, and we got along fine, but she was no Cass.
“Right,” I replied. After all there was no other explanation needed for that man, he was bloody Snape after all. He was expected to be an arse.
“Cass, what do we have next?” I asked in a groan.
She scoffed at me. “ I have Arithmancy next as you well know. And you don’t have anything. Are you trying to shove it in my face?”
Oh no, bad topic! Must change subject.
“Did you hear that Percy Weasley is going out with Penelope Clearwater?” She glared at me… oops. Of course she knew that, it happened LAST YEAR! She then rolled her eyes and stalked off to her next class, nose in the air. You see Arithmancy was something that I decided in fourth year was better not mentioned in her presence. Her dad had made her take it, instead of the cop out subject, Divinations, like I took. Apparently, the Whitehorn’s actually want a smart daughter, while mine just want a Quidditch fanatic. The world is an interesting place.
I waved goodbye to my fellow Hufflepuffs and a few of the Ravenclaws as I headed towards the common room, glad to be done for the day. I walked across the Entrance Hall, not really paying attention to any of the scurrying students, as I made my way down the adjoining corridor and passed the kitchens. At least, I would have walked passed the kitchens, if the portrait leading into it had not swung open and knock me off my feet.
I let out a loud “oomph” as I fell to the ground and landed on my bum. I heard the sound of scurrying footsteps, as whoever accidently winded me approached.
“Oh Merlin, I am so sorry! I didn’t know that anyone would be standing there. I- oh! Alex!”
I rubbed my head tenderly as I sat up, trying to figure out who had said my name. The person, either a guy or a girl with a very masculine voice, knelt down and helped me sit up.
I opened my eyes, still holding my head, and tried to not gasp. “Wood! What are you doing down here?”
He looked at me, from his crouching position with concern written all over his face. “I missed lunch because I was in the common room working on my plans for the Slytherin match and I lost track of time. I just came down to get some food. What are you doing here?”
“The Hufflepuff common room is just down the corridor…”
Oliver smacked his head in understanding, “Right, I’m an idiot. It’s not like I didn’t watch you walk this way after Hogsmeade.”
I smiled at him, and after smiling back he seemed to remember that we were both on the floor. He stood up, offering me his hand, which I gladly took. It was very warm, and I got the same feeling of familiarity and comfort as I did on our date... uh re-acquaintance?
“Do you not have class?” He asked curiously.
“Nope, I’m done for the day. What about you?” I asked, still wearing my trademark ‘Alex Parkin’ smile. Apparently, it’s the smile that says, ‘I’m friendly and approachable, so you’ve just got to love me!’ At least that’s what Cass had told me rather sarcastically one day, but I think she’s just full of angst because of all her Arithmancy lessons.
He smiled back enthusiastically, hell maybe Cass was right about my smile. “Nope, I had Defense Against the Dark Arts before lunch, but I’ve been free ever since.”
“Oh, well that’s nice. What are you plans for the rest of the day?” I asked with genuine interest. I hadn’t even thought that far. I guess I might just go back to the common room and work on more Diggory plays. He had managed to get the Wronski Feint down, even if it took him another practice. But now I was moving on to bigger and better things, like the Plumpton Pass.
“Well,” he said, mulling it over. “I don’t know, I was just going to work more on my strategies, but… uh, would you like to do something?”
I was slightly surprised, but very excited at the idea. After all, I have been putting off step one, for a while now, and one really did need to hang out with a boy in order to procure a boyfriend.
“I’d love to!” I said with a wide smile.
“Great, uh, what would you like to do? Go by the lake?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to think.
I sneered at the idea. That just sounded so dull. He caught the sneer and laughed.
“Right, well do you have a better idea?”
I thought for a moment and then grinned, “Well, I would say we should scrimmage like we used to when we were little, but then you would claim I was trying to still your moves or something equally ridiculous. But it’s all right; I understand that you are trying your best to improve until you have to face me in the Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor game. After all it must be a huge ego-kicker to be friends with a girl who can kick your arse in Quidditch. So I understand if you are too afra-“
“Go grab your broom Parkin, I’ll meet you at the Pitch in ten minutes.” He said with narrowed eyes, as he turned away from me and headed in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. I grinned as he walked off; I had watched his eyes narrowing throughout my whole speech. I don’t know what my brother was saying about manipulating Hufflepuffs. It was even easier with a Gryffindor, just insult their honor once and it was on. I turned and headed back to the common room, excited to play my favorite sport against some actually competition.
“So what are the rules exactly?” I asked with mild interest as I held the Quaffle. Wood was in his usually position, hovering in front of the goalposts.
“Same as in Quidditch,” He said as he sat nimbly on his broom.
“Right, well then, shall we begin?” I asked with a quick smile, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through my body.
“After you, milady,” He said with a bow, a cute smile inching onto his face.
I grinned in return, my eyes narrowing in concentration. Oh it was so on. I pushed forward hard on my broom and shot off like a rocket, right towards Wood, who was currently shifting back and forth on his broom, trying to figure out what goalpost I was going for.
I readied my arm, pulling back with the Quaffle held firmly in my grasp, my other hand clutched tightly around my broom handle. I aimed for the left hoop, watching as Wood started for that one, and at the last second hurled it at the far right one. I smirked as I watched it fly, Wood was definitely too far over. He seemed to notice this too, and tried desperately to swerve back, but it was too late. I watched the ball fly effortlessly through the golden ring. My smirk then turned into a kind smile as I watched Wood curse as he went to retrieve the Quaffle.
“Oi Ollie, no worries mate, I’ll just consider that a warm-up throw!” I said as he came back, the bright red ball tucked firmly under his arm. His eyes were narrowed in heat of the competition.
“No it counted and we both bloody know it, so just take the damn ball and go again, but I warn you Parkin I’m not going to go easy on you. “
“I would never dream of you going easy on me Ollie,” I caught the Quaffle easily when he threw it at me and headed back, halfway down the Pitch.
I leaned heavily onto my Nimbus, trying to catch my breath. Wood wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t going to go easy on me. I suddenly felt very sorry for the Gryffindor Team if this was the menace they had to put up with all the time. I mean, I was pretty brutal, but I was never this bad. I had only managed to get thirteen of the twenty-seven shots that I had thrown at him, including the first.
Not to mention, this cute, little, friendly scrimmage had managed to turn into an all out Quidditch war. Wood was even nursing an injury, because on one of my throws, my hand had gotten a bit too sweaty, and the Quaffle had flown out of my grasp, completely missing the goalposts. Well, good ol’ Ollie thought it was the right time to tutor me on the basics of throwing a Quaffle, and let’s just say I got a bit more than pissed after my Chaser lesson, and I hurled the Quaffle rather violently at his head after he had tossed it back to me. Yeah, well if we both weren’t fully committed before we definitely were now.
Our game had gotten so intense that we even had a bloody audience! There were currently about fifty students, including half my team, who were all sitting on the bleachers, huddled together in the cold as they watched with fascination. I wasn’t exactly surprised; we Quidditch Captains took this sport seriously, even going so far as to practice in the dead of night so that no other teams could figure out our plays. Us playing together outside of a traditional match like now was like blasphemy.
I steadied my broomstick once more, holding the Quaffle delicately under my right arm. Both Wood and I were sweating profusely and looked extremely worn out, but neither of us seemed to want to quit.
I leaned forward, making an uneven zig-zagging motion in order to try to throw Wood off, but he followed my every move perfectly. I glared at him, determined not to lose. I swung to the right, aiming with an overhand for the middle hoop, but at the last second I switched to an underhand and flung the ball towards the left. It seemed to do the trick. The Quaffle was moving too far for him to catch, or maybe he was just too tired. Either way the score was now 14 to 14 or rather 140 to 140, whichever way you wished to look at it. I heard much applause from below, and I smiled triumphantly, doing a rather tacky victory dance in return.
I heard Wood groan and chuck the Quaffle back at me. I turned just in time to catch it, and sent Oliver a cheeky smile, which he did not return. I was circling back in order to get into my original starting position when I heard a shout.
“Oi! Wood, Parkin! Get down here!” I turned to see Roger Davies standing at the base of the Pitch with his entire team flanked behind him, brooms in hand. What the hell? Did the Ravenclaws have practice? What time was it? Practices did not usually start till after dinner. Oliver seemed to be wondering the same thing, because he looked down at his watch and gasped.
“Merlin’s beard, it’s already a quarter till seven!” He exclaimed as he flew towards me, “We’ve been at this for four hours!”
I shared the same shocked expression. There was no way we had played for four hours, was there? I was about to ask this rather pointless question when another shout from Roger brought my thoughts back to earth… er air, technically I was still flying.
I sighed in defeat and headed back to the ground, Oliver following closely behind me. I was met by a pair of glaring brown eyes as my feet hit the ground and I dismounted.
“What is it Davies?” I asked with a bitter tone evident in my voice. No one seemed to miss it.
If possible, Roger’s eyes narrowed even more than they already were as he said, “I am sorry to break up your… rendezvous, but the Pitch is mine until nine o’clock, so if you could pack up and leave, along with your fans it would be much appreciated.”
I really felt like arguing, but I knew that I was technically in the wrong, so I decided to be nice. “Right, will do, come on Ollie let’s go.”
I turned to Oliver, gesturing for us to make our escape before I did something stupid, but I was stopped by a scoff from Roger.
“Ollie? You’re calling Wood Ollie now? Oh that’s just bloody brilliant Alex, you couldn’t have been more apparent if you just shagged him right here in front of me. At least try to be a little less obvious in the future when you try to make me jealous. I am a Ravenclaw after all.”
I could feel Oliver tense up beside me, ready to come to my defense, but I was already way ahead of him.
“Yeah, and you are a damn thick one at that, you tosser. Like I would even waste my time trying to make a scumbag like you jealous. Now why don’t you do all of us a favor and go contract a disease from one of your whores and just die already, you bloody wanker!”
I stalked off before Ro- no! Davies could even respond, not even caring to see what his reaction was. A few seconds later, I heard Oliver hurrying to catch up.
“That was bloody brilliant by the way,” I heard him say, a smile clearly evident in his overly cheerful voice.
I couldn’t help a small smile from slipping onto my face at that voice, no matter how bad my temper was at the moment. I turned my head to the side and took in Oliver, really looking at him. He had changed so much from the chubby boy that I had once knew, but I couldn’t help but like this new Oliver. Even if I barely knew anything about him anymore, in some ways he was still my Ollie.
A/N: Who’s amazing? I actually kept my promise for once! And I really do want to knock out a couple more chapters for this story before I start working on one of my others like President’s Daughter or something. So hopefully the wait won’t be so long. We shall see it definitely won’t be a month like before, yay summer!
Please review, and let me know what you think! More reviews equal me more willing to write. I am serious, I had three paragraphs of this story written, but then I stopped until I got my first review. Not to be mean or anything, but I really didn’t even feel like writing till I got it. I’m petty I know, but I’m human, so review!
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