Drawing Places (Oliver Wood x reader)

Decem

It was the first day back. The morning bustle hit me hard, when I woke up with a headache, and already being swamped by the chatter of the three girls I shared a dorm with. These were most definitely not the kind of people that would give me a DIY piercing.
I barely acknowledged them, as I shuffled my way into the bathroom.
After I'd showered, and brushed my teeth, I got dressed, acutely aware that my uniform did not fit as well as it had the previous year. I pushed my hair out of my face, staring at myself in the mirror for a long while.
I couldn't understand why I had to have dark eyebrows, and dark hair, and eyes that looked like that, and not enough lash to disguise it. I fiddled with my lip, before finally deciding to put makeup on.

At breakfast, the twins showed me a spell they had been working on, hoping I would help them perfect it. I told them I would, in a free period, at some point during the week.
McGonagall came around, and handed out timetables. She gave me a knowing smile, when she handed me mine.
"What have you got first?" Oliver asked me, trying to lean across the table to see.
"Muggle studies. Then we both have History of Magic." I put a teaspoon of honey over my cereal. "I'm guessing you have a free period?"
"Yeah, I was going to go hassle Madame Hooch."
"About Quidditch?" He didn't have to say anything for me to know his answer. I rolled my eyes.

At lunch, I got a head start on my History homework. Oliver babbled on about his morning with Hooch, while all I wanted to do was write about Salem. I turned away from him, to flip through my book, still hearing him muttering in my ear about how he'd booked the pitch for tomorrow, and the two days following.

I zoned out to his dribble, as I started reading, not getting very far before Oliver slammed my book shut, trying to get my attention. I looked up with a scowl, and he pointed down the length of the table to where Ron Weasley was holding up a red envelope. A Howler. I shuffled forward in my seat, readying myself for the boom of Molly's voice.
"RONALD WEASLEY!" The Howler roared, causing the hall to go silent. I instinctively grabbed Oliver's hand.
"STEALING THE CAR?! I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU! YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU!! I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE!

"WHEN WE GOT THE LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, YOUR FATHER ALMOST DIED OF SHAME! WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS! YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED!!" The Howler took a breath.

"I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED BY YOUR BEHAVIOUR!! - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK NOW AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT, AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME YOUNG MAN!"
I let out a breath that I didn't realise I had been holding, as the chatter in the hall went back to normal. I slipped my hand out of Oliver's grasp before he could settle, and notice it.
Instinctively, I went to stand up, but Percy grabbed my arm, trying to pull me back down. I looked at him, with a scowl. "Don't go over there."
"Show some compassion, Percy," I spat, wrenching my arm free, and grabbing my homework.

I slipped into the seat next to Ron. "You know, I got a Howler once," I said, earning his attention. "In fourth year, when Alex Montgomery broke his leg because he told me that Quidditch was a boy's sport, so I pushed him out of the classroom window." Ron gawked at me. "I was about the same age as you, give or take. -Look, my point is, it's ok. It's a little bit embarrassing, and yucky, but it's ok. People move on, and life keeps going. Don't worry about it."
He smiled at little, but nothing lasting.
I looked across the table, to a few other second-years, who had grown to like me after last year. (well, at least a little bit.)
"Just, try not to misbehave too much while you're mum's still angry."
With that, I stood up, shot Oliver a look to get him to follow, and we left the hall together.

"What did you say?" Oliver asked, as we took a seat out in the east courtyard.
"Told him about Alex Montgomery," I said, leaning down on the grass.
Oliver chucked, "I remember that."
I smiled, looking up at him.
"Fourteen-year-old me thought that made you to coolest person," he admitted, "'cause you were a girl, and you were the only girl on the Gryffindor team. And you pushed him out the window. That bit was my favourite."
I scoffed, "you put me on the team."
"Details."
I looked up at the clouds, letting a pink blush creep on to my cheeks.

~

"I've spent the summer devising a whole new Quidditch program," Oliver said to the group as we walked along the corridor. "We are gonna train earlier, harder and longer."
"Said the actress to the bishop," I mumbled, walking in line with Alicia and Angelina.
"Shut up! -oh, I don't believe it!"
We followed Oliver down the stairs and into the east courtyard. "Where do you think you're goin', Flint?"
The Slytherin Quidditch team were decked out in their stunningly green uniforms, each holding a broom.
"Quidditch practice," said Marcus Flint, the team captain. He was in the year above Oliver and I, and had a great distaste for me in particular.
"I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today!" Oliver was getting increasingly upset. I shuffled into line with him.
"Easy, Wood. I've got a note." I was shocked at how calm he was.

Oliver took the note from the seventh-year, unrolling it. I read it over his shoulder.

I, Professor Snape, hear-by give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new seeker.

"You've got a new seeker?" I asked. "Who?"
The older students stepped aside to let a blond boy forward. He was approximately my height, and everything about him seemed too crisp and new to be natural.
"Malfoy?" mumbled Harry, going exactly to the same thought I had.
"That's right!" He spat, "and that's not all that's new."

The Slytherin team held out their brooms to us. I scowled, reading the silver font on the handle of Marcus's.
"Those are Nimbus 2001's," Ron remarked, seeming to come out of nowhere. "How'd you get those?"
"A gift. From Draco's father." I rolled my eyes.
"See unlike you, Weasley, my father can afford the best."
I was getting angrier and angrier the more the blond spoke.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," stated Hermione, who was standing next to Ron.
"Nobody asked for your opinion... You filthy little mudblood!"
A very audible gasp left my lips, and Oliver had to grab my forearm to stop me from smacking a twelve-year-old.

"You'll pay for that, Malfoy!" Ron raised his want towards the skinny blond. "Eat slugs!"
Ron was thrown backwards onto the grass, sending the Slytherin team into a fit of laughter. I, along with the rest of the Gryffindors, ran to make sure he was ok. He sat up, gagged a little, and spat out a large black slug. I recoiled.
Harry and Hermione grabbed him. "We better take him to Hagrid's."
Hermione nodded.
"Harry, turn him around!" shouted a first-year. Collin Creevy, resident Harry Potter photographer.
"No, Collin, get out of the way!"
The two of them dragged the red head onto his feet (all while he still gagged and spat) and out of the courtyard. Oliver looked bewildered.

Before anyone could walk away, I let out a small growl, spun on my heels and marched myself right up to Malfoy.
"Fifteen points from Slytherin for that disgusting use of language!" I fumed, pointing a finger into his chest and trying to appear taller. "So help me, If I ever hear you use that word again, you will have another thing coming... Do I make myself clear?"
He laughed in my face. "And what are you gonna do? nip at my ankles?"
"Five more points," I said, crossing my arms across my chest. "For disrespecting a school Prefect. Would you like to keep going? Maybe shout a few insults at me, while you're at it?"
Before he could keep going, though, Marcus has steered him away, in the direction of the Quidditch pitch.

Collin, still hovering, held up his camera to me. "Collin, go find Lockhart. I'm sure he'd be happy to have his photo taken."
And with that, I turned away from the group, and headed inside.