Immortal Magic (Book 1)

Chapter Twelve

Allison's Point of View.

Two weeks had passed since Hermione's birthday, and Hogwarts life had settled back into its usual chaos.

Classes were becoming harder, homework piles were growing taller, and Quidditch season was fast approaching, which meant my schedule was becoming a complete nightmare.

Thankfully, Hermione and I had already planned around Gryffindor practices after I cornered Oliver Wood and demanded an exact training timetable. Hermione had practically created a military-grade study schedule afterwards to make sure I didn't fall behind.

At the moment, though, I was sitting beside Ginny in the common room, helping her and a few of her friends with their homework. "No, see?" I explained patiently while pointing at her parchment. "You have to explain why the potion reacts that way, not just say that it does."

Ginny nodded thoughtfully and scribbled something down. Before I could continue, a familiar voice sounded behind me. "Allison, we have to go. Team meeting."

I looked up to see Harry standing there, already dressed in Quidditch robes. I smiled and got to my feet. "Coming." I glanced back at Ginny.

"If you still need help later, go find Hermione. She'll happily explain everything in painful detail." Ginny laughed softly. "I will." Harry and I headed down through the castle corridors toward the pitch.

"Hey, Harry," I said sweetly. He immediately sighed. That sigh told me he already knew exactly what I wanted. Without another word, he crouched slightly. "Hop on." I laughed brightly before jumping onto his back. "Thank you."

"No problem," he muttered, though I could hear the amusement in his voice. By the time we reached the changing rooms, the rest of the team had already gathered.

Oliver Wood was pacing back and forth like a man preparing for war. I slid off Harry's back and moved to stand beside Angelina and Katie, both of whom looked equally concerned. The moment everyone arrived, Oliver stopped pacing dramatically.

"This," he announced seriously, "is our last chance." The room immediately fell silent. "My last chance," he corrected quietly. "I'm leaving at the end of the year. If we don't win the Quidditch Cup now, I'll never get another shot."

I exchanged a look with Angelina and Katie. We all knew how much this meant to him.

"Gryffindor hasn't won the Cup in seven years," Oliver continued passionately. "We've had the worst luck imaginable, injuries, cancelled matches, last year's disaster."

He visibly swallowed at the memory of the Chamber. "But this year," he said firmly, "we have the best team in the school." He pointed dramatically toward us.

"We have three brilliant Chasers." Katie grinned. Angelina saluted sarcastically. I bowed from the waist.

Oliver ignored us and pointed toward Fred and George. "Two unbeatable Beaters."

"You're embarrassing us, Oliver," Fred said solemnly. George nodded. "It's hard being this admired." Oliver rolled his eyes before turning toward Harry. "And we have the best Seeker Hogwarts has seen in years."

Harry immediately turned red. "And," Oliver added after a pause, "me." George patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Don't worry, Oliver."

"You're decent too," Fred added kindly. "Cracking Keeper." Oliver looked deeply touched despite himself.

"The point is," he continued, regaining focus, "the Cup should've been ours the last two years. Ever since Harry and Allison joined the team, I honestly thought we had it."