Hermione's Twin ⇒ Fred Weasley

Ch. 24: Oliver Wood Is A Hunk

Ch. 24: Oliver Wood Is A Hunk

     It was a lazy sort of afternoon, and the cold drift of rain outside the Gryffindor Tower only aided the draft coming from the stone corridors. I sat, bundled, on my bed and pondered life's choices.

      "Oliver Wood." I snapped my fingers, a grin plastered on my face. "I've got it." Lana looked at me over her book titled: Beautiful Creatures and rose a brow.

     "What are you talking about?"

      I jumped off my bed and threw on a long overcoat that reached the lower parts of my thighs and the rubber boots that I'd had to special order through the Post. Turns out, all of the shoes  I'd brought from home couldn't keep the wet from seeping into the soles. "I'm going to the Gryffindor Quidditch practice." 

       Lana chuckled, setting the book down and watching me carefully. "What're you blubbering on about? It's been pouring outside for the last four days. The mud is knee-deep and you're wearing shorts. Are you insane?" She rolled off her bed, setting the book aside. "What is so important that you don't even have time for proper pants?"

      "Your date to the Yule Ball," I said. "I hate that you're just moping around up here. So, I'll set something up for you." I threw on a scarf as well, hoping it would make up for wearing shorts.

      "No," Lana groaned. "No blind date." She said flinging herself back onto her mattress with a scowl, dramatically. 

"He's attractive." I assured her. "Plus, he's Scottish-which is better than Irish anyway." With out asking her permission, I just walked out-she was going to thank me for it anyway.

      As I made my way out the door, she called out to me. "Bring me some hot chocolate when you get back, Liza!" I flipped her off behind my back and kept going, a smile playing on my lips.

      Lana was right...like she always is when it comes to weather. I took my wand out of my rubber boot and flicked it, muttering: Umbrellè. Slowly, the wand grew into a big, red umbrella. It was big enough for two people to fit comfortably, just the way I liked it. I could see the Quidditch Pitch from where I was walking. It was a tiny dot on the horizon, and the mud was already sucking at my boots. 

      Trudging on, I battled back the elements. I could hear shouts and cheers from the Quidditch team as they hollered back and forth at each other. Even though there were technically no Quidditch Matches this year, Oliver Wood couldn't go a year without at least some Quidditch.

      'He'd go completely mental,' Fred had told me. 'Wood's in line for Puddlemere, can't have him going rusty on us.'

        The Gryffindor players were still in the air, extremely drenched but determined. Looking around, I noticed that no one else was there outside of the team (except for me, no surprise there).

       Shrugging, I climbed up the slippery, wooden steps and sat down on the drenched bench, shivering as the water soaked through the seat of my pants. I brushed it off, preparing to wait for them to finish, listening to the rain patter against my umbrella.

Fred's PoV:

       'Oliver's completely mental, making us run drills in this weather.' I steered the handle of my broom through the blistering wind and sailed toward my brother, slowing down beside him as the pellets of water rained down against our uniforms.