𝕄𝕆𝕆ℕℂℍ𝕀𝕃𝔻

𝟙𝟜 | 𝕎𝕆𝕆𝔻'𝕊 𝔽𝕀ℕ𝔸𝕃 𝔾𝔸𝕄𝔼

Jane had been under the false impression her training for the Ravenclaw match had been rough. Over the Easter holidays, she could've begged to get the old training regiment back. No class meant that Oliver would wake her up every day, at seven in the morning, long before the rest of the team, and have her throw hoops until it was time to go back to bed. He also had her learn all the difficult moves from Quidditch Through the Ages after her failed attempt at a Sloth Grip Roll during the last game.

Together with Alicia and Katie, she had to repeat the Porskoff Ploy, Parkin's Pincer and the Reverse Pass until they could play those formations in their sleep. With her, what was now widely known as the 'deadly aim', Oliver made it her responsibility to score as many points as possible, unless of course one of the other girls happened to hold the Quaffle in the scoring area. All the practice was rather unfortunate because Jane usually used her holidays to do her homework perfectly, to get her average up for the end of the year, but this time, there was barely enough time to sleep.

"You know, Oliver-" she had to lift her arm with the other "muscles need time to repair themselves, or-"

"You'll have time to repair yourself when we hold the Quidditch Cup in our hands." said Oliver "This isn't weight-lifting, I just need you to throw a ball. Can you do that? Can you throw a ball, Lupin?" he always became a little scary before a match. His eyes would almost pop out of their sockets, his pupils were dilated all of the time, the veins in his forehead and neck would be throbbing- it was not a good look on him.

"Yes, Wood, I can throw a ball. Not if my arms fall off though. I'm seriously beggi- just give me one day. You're harder on me than anybody else-"

"Because I am relying on you and Harry! I need Harry to catch the Snitch, and I need you to win us thirty points before he does, or we can forget the cup-"

"Wood, thirty points, that is nothing."

"You say now. Become too sure of yourself and lose."

"He's right Lupin." said Fred of all people "Get back on your broom and stop whining, come on."

"I swear to god Weasley." said Jane kicking off the ground "When the match is over and I can move my arms again-"

"For all, I care you can kill me after the match. There is no after the match. There's victory or shame."

"You're all on Steroids, aren't you," she said, when he looked at her with the same insane look, Oliver was carrying at all times.

"Don't know what the hell Steroids are." he said "Now, go and do what you were born for."

Was she crazy or was there something wildly attractive about this side of him? Tense, focused, bossy- he gave her more butterflies than usual.

"LUPIN FOCUS!" yelled Oliver when she let a Quaffle fly past her, and she quickly took her eyes off Fred and sped after it. That really was one step too far. She could crush on him all she wanted, but being distracted by him? Letting any boy distract her- that was really just pathetic. Blushing like an idiot, giggling about his jokes- they were trying to win the Quidditch cup and she was acting like one of those caricature versions of girls, she'd see in bad Muggle shows.

Three days before the match, Oliver agreed to give them two days off. Even he understood, that they needed a little time to rest before the match. They wanted to spend a nice, calm day together in the common room, play some games, but as soon as they sat down in the armchairs and sofas, the entire team was asleep. The day before the match they trained for three more hours, and the fresh energy mirrored itself in the best session they'd ever had, followed by an appropriately excited pep-talk from Oliver in the common room.