Oliver Wood is stubborn, confident, and brave... or at least that's the façade he wishes to show. Lying is easy for Oliver, but living is harder when a white-haired girl crashes into him by chance. It's too bad she's the younger sister of his quiddi...
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NO ONES POV
"Not so fast, Wood" Professor Snape held out his pale, lanky arm to prohibit Oliver from entering the potions class, seething down at the boy in pure disgust.
Oliver held his breath, looking up at the Slytherin, desperately trying to keep his disrespectful thoughts from escaping his mouth.
"Is there something I can help you with professor?"
"You are failing potions, Wood. Now usually I wouldn't care of your incompetence. But professor Macgonnagall has insisted that you have a private tutor" The man in black drawled.
Oliver's face fell, posture deflating. Snape continued, not carrying a single care in the world that his student was upset.
"Maybe, if you weren't so focused on that irritating ball game-"
"Quidditch" Oliver interrupted, his mouth running faster than his mind. Snape raised one eyebrow and scowled at the boy.
"Quidditch" Snape corrected, Oliver cringed at the poisonous way it rolled off his tongue.
"Then you wouldn't be so behind in potions, and any other subject for that matter... Now, your tutor has been informed and is waiting for you. I trust you know where the library is, Wood? It's a wonderful place where people read. I trust you know what reading is-"
Oliver nodded. "Yes, of course professor".
"On your way then Wood, wouldn't want to keep her waiting." He dragged, and with a billow of his cape he had disappeared into the booming potions class.
Oliver was left to sulk in the empty school hallway. He didn't particularly care that he was failing Potions... or any of his classes for that matter. All that mattered was quidditch. However Oliver knew Snape had the power to take his captaincy away from him if he continued to fail (which would destroy Oliver's entire hopes and dreams). So in an effort to cooperate, he picked up his feet and dragged himself to the dreaded library.
LARISSA'S POV
It was just before my first class of the day, Herbology, when Mcgonnagall found me and told me I had to tutor potions instead.
Now sat on a far table in the library, my eyes scanned over all my potions work. Tonnes of "A*" were written on the pages in big green hand writing. I suspired, setting my elbow on the dark oak table and my head in my hand. I bounced my knee, surveying the library entrance for my new "student" to arrive.
