𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬 [𝖍.𝖌]

seven | snitches and foxes

Oliver told the team to meet in a dingy classroom on the fourth floor of the Charms corridor. There was a quiet sort of desperation in his voice as he addressed his six fellow team members in the darkening room.

"This is our last chance—my last chance—to win the Quidditch Cup," he told them, pacing in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the the end of the year." He swallowed. "I'll never get another shot at it.

"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Yeah, we've had the absolute shittiest luck in the world—injuries, then the tournament getting called off last year..." Wood swallowed again. Dahlia raised an eyebrow. He was going to choke soon.

"But we also know we've got the best—ruddy—team—in—the—school," he said, punching his fist into his other hand, a manic glint in his eye.

"We've got three superb Chasers." Oliver pointed to Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Dahlia. Dahlia flicked a hand and looked away smiling, as if to say oh, stop.

"We've got two unbeatable Beaters."

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George together, pretending to blush.

"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" shouted Wood in Harry's face. Harry winced and shrunk back as some spittle threatened to hit him.

"And me," added Oliver as an afterthought, drawing back. Dahlia frowned.

"We think you're very good too, Oliver," said George.

"Spanking good Keeper," said Fred.

"Ollie, can I talk to you for a second?" she asked, as Fred and George offered more encouragements.

"Sure," shrugged Oliver, a lopsided smile on his freckled face. "What's wrong?" Dahlia grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him to the far corner of the classroom, away from the rest of the team, who were joking and laughing at Fred and George's antics. Dahlia turned and faced Oliver, folding her arms.

"Lily?" asked Oliver, his smile fading.

"You," said Dahlia shortly. "That's what's wrong."

"Okay..." shrugged Oliver again. "Care to elaborate or did you pull me aside for a guessing game?" He folded his arms too, mirroring Dahlia's prickly stance.

"'And me'," she mocked, glaring. "Is that how you really see yourself? 'And me'?"

Oliver stared uncomfortably at her. "What?"

She softened slightly, seeing the confused look in his dark brown eyes. "I know you're excited to win and that everyone around you is good at Quidditch and I know that you have the Chosen One on your Quidditch team, but that doesn't mean that everyone outshines you," explained Dahlia gently.

Oliver stopped, his eyes slightly shiny.

"You're captain for a reason. You're the backbone and the heart and the soul of this team, and to hell with anything that ever makes you feel less than that."

"I—"

"You compliment everyone else and focus on everyone else, gas yourself up for once," she continued, seeing Oliver's wide eyes. "You're going pro one day remember? Act like it, Ollie."

Oliver swallowed, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Thanks, Lil."

She punched him hard. "Anytime," she smirked as he yelled.

Dahlia scuffed her feet walking in the hall alongside Harry, swinging her messenger bag around her. Today, she had Lupin's class with the rest of her Gryffindor peers, and she was trying to ride the high of Potions yesterday. Well, that and the extra good garden sandwich she'd had at lunch.