Antics

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You smacked your alarm clock, trying to stop it from cracking open your skull.

You lifted your head and squinted to read the bright green numbers.

'Shit, practice! Twenty minutes!'

You ran through the shower. Seven minutes.

Ate some dry cereal. Three minutes.

Tripped up the stairs. Fell asleep on said stairs. Woke up frantic. Four minutes.

Scrounged room for clothes. Got dressed for practice. Two minutes.

Grabbed broom. Found hangover potion. Apparated to stadium. Four minutes.

"Late again?" you heard as you downed the awful liquid.

You looked at your watch, just to see it changing to 9:01.

"Sorry, I'm really sorry I'm a while thirty seconds late."

"Look, I ask for everybody on the field. At nine. Not show up and laze around at nine."

"I had to take some potion... for healing. I had a rough night." you forged.

"You're still hungover, aren't you?" he asked. You nodded.

"I'll be fine in about five minutes." you said.

"Well... five laps for being unfit to play quiditch."

You were about to mount your broom.

"Nonono. Run them."

"But... I'm never going to have to run in quidditch. That's pointless."

"Do I hear eight laps coming?"

"Fine, fine." you said as you broke out into a jog.

"No. NO! When you aim the ball, aim it at the middle hoop for this play. It has to be the middle!" Oliver screamed at you.

"Why? As long as it goes in!" you screamed, defensively.

"But he'll be expecting the top one because he's the furthest from it. But, if you for the middle, then he'll over-estimate the distance and miss it."

"Yessir, captain obsessive."

You ran the play again. The dummies hung in their proper place, where the players would usually be.

"Okay, Stanley. See the player covering Marcus? That's who I want you to shoot the bludger at. Distraction, right? Okay, that's the first play. Signaled by the words, play one."

"Original Oliver." Pele cut in.

"Run it once more." he said. And we did so. It was actually a fabulous play. Undoubtedly, it would be used later. Named after him. What a boring name for a play. Wood. I'll have to talk to him about that.

"Okay, Play 2 will be done exactly the same. This time, when you pass the quaffle, Pele, pass it to Marcus, instead of Chris. We'll do this after we've stumped them about three times."

"Well, well, well. Looks like Oliver Wood. Oh, and I believe we will also be graced with the precense of the beautiful Christina Applegate!"

"Marcus Flint, is that you?" you spat.

"In the flesh darling. Where's your cheerleading costumes? This is the cheer team, right?" he asked, stupidly.

"That's pathetic. You come all the way out here to make fu of us, and you didn't even come up with a decent insult?" you said, feigning dissaproval.

"Oh, shut up Applegate." Marcus' team stood behind him.

"Ouch. That's a stinger." You're team all snickered.

"Stop thinking you can outwit me. Because, newsflash, Barbie, you can't."

You stared at him in disbelief for five seconds. "Burning me deep." your team all let out another chuckle.

"Yeah, it should. Hope you some aloe for that burn."

*crickets*

"Are... are you serious?" you asked, not joking.

"STOP TRYING TO INSULT ME!" He screamed, and tried to slap you. Bewildered, you punched him in the face.

"It's on." you said, and cracked your neck. You didn't really need to. It was for [[dramatic effect]]

Right jab. Back duck. Left uppercut. Pause. Left duck. Right duck. Right duck. 'Tire him out.' Shuffle right. Advance. Retract. Left jab. Left duck. Shuffle right.

After two more minutes, Marcus got tired. With one last swing, he was out.

His team of goons proceeded to drag him away until they remembered they could just apparate out.

"Yeah... So, back to practice!" Oliver shouted. Everyone groaned.

Oliver introduced another play, he cleverly named Play 4. Skipped three for some odd reason. You went through that play, and many others. At the end of practice, he handed you a playbook.

"Now, I want you guys to really study this. These plays are bound to work. Memorize them, okay?"

"Yeah." you all replied.

"Chris, I'd like to see you in my office."

You groaned inwardly. 'This can't be good' you thought to yourself.

"Sit down. Let's clean you up." he said.

"What?" you stopped in your tracks.

"Your knuckles. I didn't want to stop practice. But they still need to be cleaned. And knowing you, it's not likely to happen any time soon." he shot.

"Fine." you said, sitting on top of his desk.

"You know, there's a perfectly comfortable seat right there." he said, glancing up at you. "Brace yourself."

You winced. "I like the feel of hardwook." you smiled.

He started wrapping up your knuckles. "Promise me, no more fights at practice, right?"

"Yeah yeah" you said before walking out of his office.

You apparated home and started getting ready for work. You put on tight black pants [waitress pants] and a buttom up white shirt. It was kind of tight because all of your other ones were dirty. You hadn't had much time to do laundry. You grabbed your black apron thing and tied it around your waste.

You were leaving your appartment, about to go down to the owlery. You opened your door and saw Oliver.

"Well, hello Wood."

"Oh, you forgot this. I was just bringing it to you before I went home." he said.

"Thanks."

"So... nice clothes?" he said akwardly.

"I have to go to work, if you wouldn't mind." you replied, equally as akward.

"Oh, yeah. Sure, I'll get out of your way." he said. You started walking down to the owlery.

"Wait, where do you work?"

"I work at O'Leary's. The pub on 4th street. Right near Diagon Alley. Literally behind it."

"Oh, I know where you're talking about. I was actually planning on going there soon." he said

"Cool. I'll see you later."

As you were walking down to the owlery, it dawned on you. That was the first real decent conversation you had ever had with Oliver. Ever. Except for your first, which shouldn't count. Because you didn't know what an ass he was then.

"Hey babe, what time do you get off tonight?"

"I close."

"Damn. I wanted to meet up. Well, I'm gonna wait for you okay. We'll go see a late night movie, or something."

"No. no. Just go to my appartment. Here's the key." you said, drawing one out of your back pocket. "Don't wait up for me."

"Alright. See ya later." he said. He kissed you on the cheek, and was off.

You picked up his tip and the Check book. You entered it into the computer and went off to the hostess table.

"Do I have any tables?" you asked her. Tonight you were working half the bar section an a couple tables on the floor.

"Yeah. Table 13." she said.

"The romance table." you mumbled

"Sorry! If you need any help, just holla!" you laughed. Must be an American thing.

"Thanks." you smiled at her and went off.

"Oh Christ." you said, rolling your eyes. "Hi! My name is Christina, I'll be waitress tonight. Is there anything I can start you off with? Drinks?" you said.

"Oh, hi Chris! What a coincidence!" Oliver said, cheerfully. He really must be enjoying this.

"Yeah." you mumbled. "What a suprise!" you said flatly.

"This is my date, Amy. Amy, this is my star chaser, Chris Applegate."

"Oh, hi! You know, Oliver just raves about the team all the time! He gives you such high praise! But I must be honest with you, I thought you were a boy!" She giggled. No one else did. "I mean, the name Chris and all..."

"Yeah. So, drinks?"

"I'll have a pineapple daquiri." She said, cheerfully.

"Club soda." he said.

"Sparkling water okay?" you asked.

"Sure."

"I'll be right back with those." you said.

An hour later, they were still sitting there. I swear, they refused to leave.

"Jeez! They just won't leave!" you cried to Samantha.

"Hmm?" she said, looking up from her drawing.

"The couple. That came in an hour ago. 'Romance Table' couple. Yeah. I need help."

"Oh, okay. I'll see what I can do." she said, leaving the hostess podium.

"So, will that be all?" you went up to Oliver's table. His girlfriend had a very odd look on her face. Samantha had most likely just made things a little awkward between them. LIVESAVER!

"Yes." Amy snapped.

"Baby, I have no idea what she was talking about!" he said, innocently.

"Check please." Amy smiled at me brightly.

"Okay. I actually have it on me. Here you go. Enjoy the rest of your night, guys." you said.

"Bye Chris!" Oliver said, then continued his speech to his apparently pissed off girlfriend. No worries though. When walking out, Samantha will say, 'So glad to have seen you again, Reginold.' and then the anger will be settled.

You rushed through closing today, and offered one of the teenagers there 30 knuts to help you clean up. May not be much, compared to the tip money you got, but teenagers will do anything for money.

You stumbled through the door, so tired your vision was going, and noticed Brendon asleep on the couch.

"Hey babe. Wake up. Come to bed with me."

He followed you through the dark to your bed, where he just went back to sleep. You tok off your shirt. You changed into some pajama pants, then crashed onto the bed next to him. Tomorrow was Saturday. You were going to need all the sleep you could get for your next game.