That Fan Fiction With No Name

Chapter Four

Chapter Four: I woke up an hour early the next day. It was the first day of term, but I couldn't think about classes. I was weighing up asking Oliver to take the polyjuice for me. I knew he would say yes, but it would mean he would have to miss coming along to the trials, and I really wanted him to see me play. I got out of bed and dressed, deciding to go to breakfast early. I was usually late for nearly all of my classes, but considering my first lesson of the day was double potions I decided it was better not to risk another lecture on tardiness. When I got down to the common room I was surprised to see Cedric in the corner reading Advanced Potion Making.

“Cedric?” I said, slightly shocked.

He looked up at me surprised, it was as if he had thought no one else could get in. “Cedric, you didn't happen to take a knock to the head when you were on the quidditch pitch the other day did you?” I asked cautiously.

He shook his head. “No, I've decided I'm gonna help you.”

I grinned and ran towards him, jumping on him and hugging him tight.

“Thank you so much Ced, but how are you gonna watch the try-outs?” I asked, pulling my head away to look at him.

His face suddenly changed into a frown.

“Sorry Lex, not with that. You're still gonna have to go to the detention,” he said slowly, watching me. “But, if it makes you feel better, I'm gonna help you with potions.”

I frowned and slid off of him onto the floor.

“Uh, why?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Well, since I failed, Snape already hates anyone with the last name Diggory, and considering Snape has an aptitude for scheduling detentions when you have something important on, I figure it's best you get on his good side.” he shrugged as he finished the sentence.

I stood out and held my hand out. “Are you coming for breakfast, or are you just going to stay and read a book that you don't understand?” he looked at my hand, then at the book then at me.

“Oi, come on, let's go. I'm starving.” I said, reaching out and pulling him up.

We made our way down to breakfast in silence. There were a few people at the other tables already. Cedric and I sat down at the empty Hufflepuff table and I grabbed a slice of toast. Cedric simply sat there with his arms crossed like a stubborn three year old.

“Are you ignoring me?” I asked him curiously.

“Nope.” he lied.

I sighed. A few more people had made their way into the great hall for breakfast including Oliver and Hermione who were grinning at each other as they made their way towards our table.

“I have a solution.” said Oliver, grinning at me as he sat down.

“Oh hello darling. I love you too.” I smiled, taking his hand.

Sometimes it amazed me how he could get so ahead of himself.

“Oh, yes. Good morning. I love you.” he said, kissing me softly whilst Hermione and Cedric shifted uncomfortably.

“Okay, so Hermione is gonna go to your detention for you. And she'll even supply the polyjuice, since we don't have time to make it before Friday.” he said.

He looked like he was expecting me to jump up and down, instead I sat there with scepticism plastered across my face.

“Why? What does she gain?” I asked, pointing to Hermione. “Well, all she asks is,” Oliver bit his lip, uncertainly before finishing. “That you teach her how to play quidditch and help her with her, uh, “guy” troubles I suppose you can call them.”

I looked over at Cedric who was practically choking on his pumpkin juice.

“Will you help me with my guy troubles?” he asked with a serious face.

I couldn't help it, I had to laugh. Hermione however didn't find it funny, in fact, she was furious.

“FINE! IF YOU DON'T WANT MY HELP,” she yelled as she stood up.

“Wait, no, I'm sorry.” I pleaded.

“Okay, I'll help you. But only because Oliver wanted to watch you make the team.” She looked rather angry. I was so tempted to tell her she can shove her help where the sun don't shine, but when I looked at Oliver's face it was impossible.

“Fine. Now, when do you want me to teach you quidditch? Do you even have a broom?” I asked uncertainly.

Now that I think of it, I had never even seen her near the quidditch pitch.

“That's the bit where I come in,” said Oliver. “I'm going to lend her mine until she can get a new one.”

There was definitely no way out of it now.

“Okay then. Saturday. Eleven O' Clock. On the quidditch pitch.”

In the whole time we had been talking, almost everyone had come in for their breakfast, and most of the Hufflepuff's were looking at Hermione strangely.

“Anyways, we better go. I love you.” he said as he stood up.

He kissed me softly, then he walked over to the Gryffindor table with Hermione following closely behind him.

There was still twenty minutes until classes started but by the time I went and got my books and my bag, Snape would already be there. I was the first one in the hallway outside the potion's classroom, and after a few minutes Oliver came along looking shocked.

“Am I imagining things, or are you really early for class?” he seemed genuinely surprised.

We stood there for about five more minutes, chatting away, Oliver's hands around my waist until Snape came along.

“No physical contact in my class please. And I don't appreciate your showing of cheek by coming to class fifteen minutes early. Ten points from Hufflepuff.”

Oliver went to argue but there was no point, I'd just get in even more trouble. Snape went into the classroom, slamming the door harshly in our faces.

“Uh, Al?” Oliver said slowly.

I looked into his eyes, smiling brightly.

“Yeah?”

His hand found it's way back onto my waist, holding on slightly tighter than before. “Tonight. Eight thirty. Meet me in the Entrance Hall?” he asked, his words slow and cautious, making me suspicious.

“Why?” I asked. “You'll see.” he said simply.

Other people had started to turn up, so Snape had to let us in. Oliver and I took seats up in the back, and soon we were joined by Seamus and Dean. For the whole of the rest lesson Snape just droned on about how the following year would be one of the most vital in our whole lives. I wasn't listening and I didn't take in a word he said. My mind was too busy, thinking about Oliver to care anyway.