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Raising the Stakes by ob sessed
Chapter 1 : Making Bets...
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 34


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A/N: Hey lovely readers, this Oliver/OC will go very AU as there will be no war. And the original Ravenclaw characters take a backseat... Hope that's not a problem for you. Oh, and I know I know... why is she starting ANOTHER novel when she is so horrible at updating her other ones?? I promise you I'm not abandoning the other ones... I just could not keep my love for Oliver/OCs a secret anymore... I had to write this and I sincerely hope you like it!! I can't promise you quick updates, but I can promise not to abandon it. Pleaaaase read and review... reviews make me happy and encourage me to write. ;-) 

EDIT: REVISED CHAPTER!!!




 



--- Chapter 1 - Making Bets... ---

featuring our heroine, keegan riddell... [by me]


 


And the Mighty Lions do it again! 


In a display of fierce determination and fervour, Gryffindor’s Quidditch team once again claims the House Cup for their own. It was no easy feat as their competition was the seemingly indestructible Ravenclaws led by Captain Keegan Riddell. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had been neck and neck at 100 points each when a Bludger knocked Ravenclaw’s seeker, Marcus Wainwright, clear off his broom, leaving Harry Potter to easily find the Snitch. The end score was 250 points to 100.

 

The Ravenclaws had watched on as the Gryffindors paraded around with the House Cup with solemn expressions, but none were as torn up about the loss as their captain, Riddel, who was seen arguing fervently after the match with Gryffindors’ captain, Oliver Wood. It comes as no surprise that the two headstrong captains despise each other, and although, some have put this hatred down to their incredible likeness and their fierce love for the game. Others, however, have put it down to romantic tension.

 

Either way, next year will be a very interesting year indeed as it will be the last and final year for these two captains to battle it out—whether it’s on the field or in a broom closet, we will see.

- Owen Clarke

I wanted to kill Owen Clarke. I swear when I get back to Hogwarts, I was going to wring his skinny little neck and throw him off the bloody Astronomy Tower.

 

The sodding git!

 

How in Merlin’s name was this even allowed to be published in the school newsletter?

 

It was bad enough we lost to Gryffindor! (I mean Gryffindor! Blegh! Even thinking their house name makes me want to vom all over.) I didn’t need the whole world to talk about my feud with Wood either let alone think that I find him physically attractive in any possible way! 

UGH!! 



That’s a gross thought…

“Keegan, that’s the fiftieth time you’ve read that bloody article,” my younger brother said, pulling me away from my inner tirade. “You need to let it go.”

“If their Beaters hadn’t knocked my Seeker out then we would have won!” I retorted angrily, crumpling up the article for the umpteenth time and throwing it against the wall. “Bloody Wood!”

 “It’s not his fault,” Edan smiled. He came over to sit beside me on my bed. “Look, you would have done the same thing—tactically.”

“I would not have tried to kill their Seeker!” I returned with a fierce-some glare—although Edan has become immune to my ‘glares’ over the years. But still, he was treading on shallow waters here.

“Marcus is fine, isn’t he? A few broken bones, nothing Skele-Gro can’t heal!” Edan said, trying to calm me down—which seems to be a reoccurring thing this summer. 

For a younger brother, he definitely was smarter than me. It was a surprise that he was sorted into Hufflepuff instead of Ravenclaw, but then again, the moment anyone started talking to Edan they’d realise exactly why he was. Edan was everything a Hufflepuff would be and everything I was not. He was calm and level headed. He was friendly and always saw the best in people, whereas I tended to be cynical about everyone.



A prat till proven otherwise. That was my motto.
 
“I hate when you make sense,” I glared at him but pulled him into a side-hug anyways. 

“You hate when anyone tells you what you don’t want to hear,” Edan told me and then smirked. “Which is pretty much all the time.”

“Alright, piss off!” I chuckled whilst shoving him off my bed and onto the floor. 

Edan may be a boy, but I was still stronger than him by far. Or I’d like to think so anyways.

 

I had a complex, you see? I was sort of petite and so I’ve always felt I had to compensate for that. It grated on me that I was constantly underestimated by every opponent I’ve ever had and even more so when I was made captain fifth year (youngest ever to make captain, mind you). I had to ‘man up’ especially because I knew the rest of the other teams thought that I wasn’t a worthy opponent and that because I’m a girl, I was inherently weaker than them. It took awhile but I eventually made up for it by being an utter and complete nutcase on and off the pitch. I guess it didn’t help that Keegan was actually a Scottish boy’s name… damn parents. 



“Bitch,” my brother mumbled from the floor. He quickly got up and tossed me a scowl. “I came here to tell you that we’re leaving in two hours so Dad wants you to start getting ready now.”

“Two hours? Why are you telling me now?” I arched an eyebrow. “I have loads of time left!”

“Keegs, you are the slowest person in the world when it comes to getting dressed so just start your weird girly routines now,” Edan told me pointedly before walking out of my room. 

Humph! I am greatly offended by this. I do not take that long… maybe a little.

 

Only a little though!  

But deciding to take my brother’s advice anyway, I quickly grabbed my towel and headed towards the bathroom.

 

Tonight was this big Quidditch Charity Ball and considering that Dad works for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, our entire family had been invited to the shindig and I was more than thrilled. Actually, I was bloody ecstatic! What Quidditch-obsessed girl wouldn’t be? I get to meet my heroes and rub shoulders with some of the fittest guys in the Quidditch world!

 

So come on, I had to look my absolute best! And not like “ooh, she’s cute” but like “OH MY GOD I WANT TO RAVISH HER” hot. So really, it’s not my fault if this getting ready business takes a tad longer than anticipated… 

---

“KEEGAN FOR MERLIN’S SAKE, WHAT IS TAKING YOU SO LONG?” bellowed my dad from downstairs.

 

Okay, I know I started getting ready two hours ago but as I said, I had to look my absolute best and sometimes that takes awhile… like maybe more than two hours.

“KEEGAN, THE WOODS ARE WAITING FOR US!” Edan added, now joining in on the bellowing. 

Oh yeah, Mr. Wood and my dad? They’re good mates. Work in the same department. Have known each other since they were in Hogwarts. Played Quidditch together on the Gryffindor team… blah blah blah.

 

Although, I suppose their friendship had not always been that ideal though. They lost touch with each other for quite awhile after Hogwarts but after my mum walked out on us, Mr. Wood stepped in to help out. He got Dad a job at the department and Mrs. Wood came round to help make us dinner sometimes. We owe the Woods everything. I don't know if my dad would have gotten through it as well if it weren’t for that old friendship.

 

Nevertheless, it did not mean I had to like their git of a son. I owe Mr. and Mrs. Wood, not Oliver Wood.

I took one final look in the mirror and decided I looked good… I looked damn good. Okay I’m not normally a very arrogant person (except when it comes to Quidditch because I’m flipping awesome) but I had to commend myself for tonight.

 

Seriously…

 

Sometimes a girl just has to take a step back and go “Sweet Merlin, I look good!” or else we’d go crazy with stupid teenage insecurities. 

My dark brown hair was still its normal wavy self but seemed a lot more elegant tonight thanks to a few hair products to keep it in place—by few, I mean my hair could go up in flames if someone lit a match within my vicinity. My hazel eyes were accentuated with goldish-brown smoky eye makeup (thanks to a tutorial in Witch Weekly) and I was wearing a shimmery black dress with gemstones outlining the halter neck. This little thing cost me a fortune, but was so worth its ridiculous price. 

 

I let out a happy sigh and began my making my way down the stairs. It took me a lot longer than normal to get down it in my incredibly high black-strapped heels to be honest but I made it eventually—to the relief of my brother and dad. 

“Hi Daddy, sorry,” I smiled innocently at him with my wide puppy dog eyes. I had the routine worked down to perfection—after many years of practice, of course. 

“Well I’m only forgiving you, because you look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he grinned back as he kissed me on the cheek.

“Yeah sis, you look good,” Edan said irritably. “But unfortunately, looking good does not get us to the ball on time!” 

“Oh pipe down, Edan, I’m only…” I check my watch. Blimey. “Thirty minutes late?”

“Yeah,” Edan rolled his eyes and walked over to the fireplace. 

“Wait, I thought the Woods were coming with us?” 



Edan grabbed a handful of Floo powder and then turned to me. “Since you were so late, we made them leave ten minutes ago. Now, come on, let’s freaking go!” 



With that, he stepped into the fireplace and yelled, “Clarendon Ballroom!” And in a flurry of green smoke, my brother was gone. 

“Impatient, isn’t he?” 

“He’s meeting a girl,” Dad said, winking, as realisation dawned on me.

 

Of course, Edan was! He never gets that testy with me unless there was a lass involved. 

Bloody git, choosing girls over his own family! I should have known!

Well, there’s my sub-mission for the night. Meet Edan’s newest girl… although, I might have to put that mission on hold if my other mission is going well: Meet Future Husband.  

---

I stumbled into the foyer—rather ungracefully I might add but luckily, no one but my dad was there to witness it. I tossed my dad a smile before I began making my way into the ballroom.

 

As soon as I entered, I was rendered incapable of speech by the grandeur of the place. The huge crystal chandelier in the middle of the ballroom lit every crevice and nook in the room, cascading a soft golden glow around the place, that made everything and everyone seem that much more elegant. It helped that almost every single person here was extremely good-looking. I mean it was a charity ball for Quidditch players and most of them had a taste for leggy models and the likes…

I felt a wave of inadequacy wash over me and just like that, I didn’t feel as beautiful and irresistible as I had initially thought. Actually, I felt bloody laughable compared to some of these girls—err, I mean women. They were all tall with legs that seemed to go on for miles and they all had perfect hair and perfect eyes and…

 

Ugh. I need to stop before I drive myself into a depression. 

I scanned the room in hopes for a familiar face and landed on my best mate. Miranda Richardson. She was a tall girl with auburn hair and small array of freckles on her nose. Her mother worked as a dietician for the Holyhead Harpies and her father worked as a general sports counsellor—handling in team disputes and personal problems. Or so I’m told.

“Miranda!”

 

A few of the ‘women’ shot me a disapproving look and I fought the urge to flip them off. I bet neither of them has ever even touched a broom. Probably too scared to break a nail or something. Stupid bints!

“Keegan!” Miranda cried out as she spotted me. I stopped my inner rant and quickly allowed the bouncy girl to embrace me in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you, little one!” 

I chuckled and pushed her off of me. “Missed you too, mate, even though I saw you a week ago. How’s the ball so far?”
 
“Ugh!” she groaned. “Too many fit models, my future husband is probably dating one of these bimbo-headed whores.”

And that’s why she’s my best friend. She’s just as horrible as me.

 

“Pretty much my thought as soon as I entered this place but hang on a tick, you have a boyfriend!”



“Minor detail,” Miranda chuckled and swung an arm around my shoulders. “Did I mention how hot you looked tonight?”

“No, but keep going and you might get to see me in my knickers,” I winked at her playfully.

“Oh please, Keegan, like I really need to witness that horrific sight again,” she scoffed before steering me towards the open bar. Yum. 



It was so easy to fall back into a comfortable conversation with Miranda. We could talk about anything and nothing and still have an amazing time doing it.  It was the way we’ve always been around each other, ever since I met the girl back in our first year at Hogwarts. She was the one that jumped into the Black Lake after me when I fell into it—I was trying to get a glimpse of the Giant Squid—just so I didn’t look foolish. I knew then and there she was a friend to keep for life. 

 

I mean who else would do that for a complete stranger?

Our conversation eventually landed back onto Miranda’s baby sisters (a topic we both loved to hate), who have been causing havoc on their father’s mental stability because of the numerous amounts of boys that would turn up at their house.

 

You see Miranda has two younger sisters who were twins, Millie and Mandy. They both have the same auburn hair that Miranda has, but with dark brown eyes. Miranda had bright blue ones. They were tall as well and slim, with an appetite for mischief. Needless to say, boys loved them and they loved boys.

 

Miranda was just about to relay to me the time Millie was caught snogging a Muggle boy when I heard a voice sound right beside my ear.

 

“Riddell, you are looking ravishing tonight,” his hot breath tickled the nape of my neck causing a shiver to run down my spine.

 

“Wood,” I said through gritted teeth. 



“Glad the animosity between us withstood the summer,” he commented.

“Oh, it would withstand quite a lot of things.”

“Now, now, let’s be civilised tonight,” he grinned at me. I hated his bloody grin; it made me feel like a stupid five-year-old child. “It is, after all, a very civilised party.”

“I didn’t think a Neanderthal like you would know how to be civilised,” I mocked, feeling quite proud of myself for the jibe. 

Oliver on the other hand just threw his head back and laughed. Totally not the reaction I was hoping for.

 

He turned his dark brown eyes onto me and I knew instantly what he was trying to do. This was his ‘I’m trying to be extremely charming and sultry’ look. I knew it all too bloody well for having known the boy since I was a baby.

 

He snaked his hand around my waist and pulled me towards him. The sudden jerk caused me to stumble into him and my hands to land flat on his chest. He leaned towards me till his lips grazed my ear. 

“I can be very civilised if you want, Riddell,” he whispered. 

 Unfortunately for him, his charm didn’t bloody work on me so I shoved him hard. “Do not touch me,” I glared.

“Chill out, Riddell!” he started to laugh again, taking a large step back. He had both his hands up in a surrender pose and the most obnoxious grin on his face that my hands itched to clock him over the head. “I was just messing with you! What? Are you still mad that I kicked your arse at Quidditch?”

“Oh no, he didn’t,” Miranda murmured from behind me.

I walked straight up to Oliver and although, I was shorter than he was I still managed to glare quite threateningly into his eyes (or so I’d like to believe).

 

“Listen, you prick! I lost because your Beaters took out my Seeker quite unfairly but,” and I inhaled a huge gulp of air, “the past is the past. Just bring your A-game this year and we’ll see who’s got the better team.”

“You mean who’s the better captain,” Oliver smirked. 

“Whatever,” I was getting bored of this conversation. I made to leave with Miranda when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. 

“Wait, Riddell, not just yet,” he was still smirking. You know how I hated his grin? Well I hated his smirk more. It was condescending and unbelievably annoying. “It will be our last year. I say we raise the stakes.”

I arched an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?” 

 “A bet.”

 “Yeah, moron, I gathered that!” I snapped. “What kind of bet?”

He ran a hand through his unruly brown hair before speaking again. “Well… I was thinking it has to be something we both treasure.”

I’m not sure I liked where he was going with this but I urged him on. 

“I mean we both love our brooms,” Oliver kept pondering to himself. Miranda sniggered. Dirty minded freak… “But it’s too small of a thing.”

This time, I had to hold back a snigger. I bet it was small. I snorted to myself. Boy, I am quite amusing I should be a comedian.  

“What about your prides?” Miranda cut in, having obviously listened to our entire exchange. “You two are the proudest people I know. Stubbornly so.”

“Pride?” Oliver and I said in unison.

Miranda had a glimmer in her eyes and that was never a good thing. Miranda’s glimmer usually meant me doing something ridiculous and embarrassing and possibly life-threatening.

 

She smiled mischievously. “Well… I was thinking the loser has to wear the other team’s robes and then get up in the middle of the Great Hall and make a toast to the other person. Praising him or her about how they’re the better captain, how much they adore the other person and well, you get the point.”

No way!” Oliver and I both exclaimed out in unison again. Eerie. And creepy. 

“No, no! I can’t bear to even utter the word ‘adore’ and ‘Wood’ in the same sentence,” I cried out. “That’s stupid!” 

“No, it’s not stupid, Keegan,” Miranda rolled her eyes at me. “It’s brilliant and it’s done. That’s your bet… and believe me, a lot can happen in a year. Maybe you’ll actually mean it.” She winked at us, which made me feel incredibly uncomfortable for some reason. 

 “So,” Oliver said, mulling over the idea in his head. “Is this if we win against you Ravenclaws in the match or if we win the House Cup?”

“I don’t know, moron, it was your idea!”

“I guess it should be the match, because you might not even get into the House Cup finals,” Oliver said innocently to me.

“We will get into the finals so don’t you worry your pretty little head,” I smiled back with false sweetness. 

“So it’ll be over the House Cup but you can have another bet over the match if you want,” Miranda suggested all too innocently. She was enjoying this way too much. I might have to just go through seventh year without a best friend.

 

I was thinking death by poison? Easy and simple. 

“What do you mean?” Oliver asked curiously and if I’m not mistaken a bit warily as well.

“Well… I was thinking the loser of the match has to be the winner’s slave for 24 hours,” Miranda exclaimed excitedly. Traitor. 

“24? Make it 48 hours,” Oliver winked seductively at me. I felt nauseous. 

“Do I literally have no say in this?” I asked feebly. I knew I didn’t and both of their nods confirmed this. I groaned. “Fine, fine! Whatever, I’m in. Just get ready to be my bitch, Wood because I don’t plan on losing to Gryffindor any time soon.” 

Oliver raised an eyebrow and then pulled me up against him again. He leaned forward till his lips were an inch away from mine. “Oh no, love, you get ready,” he told me arrogantly before stepping away. He then proceeded to burst into a fit of laughter while quickly strutting away from me and disappearing into the throng of people. 

“What. A. Prick!”

“An utterly delectable prick though,” Miranda amended, that glint in her eyes again. “What I wouldn’t do to get a piece of that!” 

“Eww, do not say that, that’s gross!” I reeled away from her and grabbed a bottle of Butterbeer from the bar. “For Merlin’s sake, come on, let’s go find me a future husband so I can stop thinking about how much I want to kill Wood.” 

 



 








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