Together (A Harry Potter love story) 3

47

MILLIES POV

As soon as the portrait swung open, a great deal of noise met my ears. I climbed inside, my eyes instantly landing on Fred and George, who seemed to be dealing with the pressure of the match by being louder and more exuberant then ever. I spotted Oliver sitting in a corner alone, crouched over a model of a Quidditch pitch and prodding little figures across it with his wand, muttering to himself. I made my way over to him.

"Hello, captain," I said playfully, sliding into the chair next to his. Oliver jumped, sitting up so suddenly that he nearly fell off of his chair. I raised my eyebrows. "Well, I was about to ask you how you are feeling, but I think I can work that much out for myself..."

Oliver made a grunt sound, before croaking, "How're you feeling?"

"Erm..." I didn't want to stress him out even more by telling him the truth, so I settled with a small, unconvincing, "Fine."

The actual truth was that every time the match even entered my mind, I would get the horrible sensation that something very large was fighting to get out of my stomach.

"Millie," Oliver said, straightening up and taking a deep breath, swivelling himself round in his chair so that his full body was facing me.

"Erm...yes?"

He stared at me with his eyes narrowed for a few more seconds, before saying, 'How're you and Harry?"

I laughed, but quickly stopped when I saw his serious expression.

"Since when did you care about my social life?" I said suspiciously.

"Since it's been affecting both of your quidditch performances!" Oliver exclaimed, gaping at me. "I haven't said anything because Angelina and katie told me not to, but tomorrow's match is too important! All you two do is look at each other when we play, and then when you accidentally catch eyes you start insulting one another!"

There was a short pause, before I muttered, "I don't stare, Oliver, I glare-"

"SAME THING!"

I raised my eyebrows at his outburst, looking around as loads of people turned to look in our direction. Even Harry couldn't help but send us a quick glance from where he was seated with Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender, and upon seeing Oliver's exasperated expression, smirked.

"Sorry." Oliver sighed, but I quickly waved my hand dismissively, knowing how stressed he was. "Listen, I don't really like saying this to individuals, but you're one of the best players on the team. I need you fully concentrated tomorrow. No form of distraction."

"Have you spoken to Harry about this?" I asked, trying my best to look unbothered.

"Yes," he grumbled, rubbing his temples. "I went to him a couple of weeks ago. Did it make any difference? Nope. The boy can't control himself around you" - I smiled to myself at this - "Just, use the anger and put it into your playing. Leave the drama outside the quidditch stadium, got it?"

I stayed silent.

"Millie..." Oliver growled warningly.

I rolled my eyes, instead moving my gaze across the common room, to where Harry was sat. As if feeling someone watching him, he lazily turned his head and locked eyes with mine. I stared, transfixed, as he looked me up and down very slowly, keeping his face completely blank, before returning his attention to the others, discreetly wrapping his arm around the back of the sofa, right behind where Parvati was sitting.

"You're right, Oliver," I said, clenching my jaw. "Tomorrow is a perfect way to take my anger out."

Oliver took one look at my determined expression and beamed.