Pranking Hearts

Fifth year V.

It was already the beginning of October which meant the Quidditch season would be starting soon. That was the reason why the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team was called to a meeting on a Thursday night. Packed up in the chilly locker rooms, tired and practically freezing. Rhea was practically sure that it was once again going to be about Oliver blabbering about how they needed to step up their game this year. It was in his great interest to win this year since it was his last year at Hogwarts.

"This is our last chance...my last chance...to win the Quidditch Cup," he told them, striding up and down in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it."

"I'm so glad you are not making this about yourself," Rhea said sarcastically with an eye roll. Oliver managed to ignore her, too invested in getting the not-so-encouraging pep talk to the team.

"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world, injuries, then the tournament getting called off last year." Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. And Rhea was sure that it was pretty much killing him on the inside. "But we also know we've got the best ruddy team in the school," he said, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye.

"Oliver's gone proper mad, didn't he? He's gonna hurt himself." Rhea whispered to Fred who gave out a quiet laugh.

"Then I'm glad I got the first-row seats," Fred whispered back a cheeky smile replacing his previously tired expression. Rhea pushed him lightly for his messed up sense of humour but couldn't help but laugh softly herself.

"We've got three superb Chasers." Rhea jumped slightly when Wood pointed at Alicia, Angelina, and herself. The three looked at each other, nodding gently to appear professional but on the inside, they were all high-fiving and jumping around.

"We've got two unbeatable Beaters." Oliver continued pointing to the twins.

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," Fred and George Weasley chorused together, pretending to blush. Rhea rolled her eyes.

"At least you finally match your hair." She teased. Fred pretended to be offended, bumping into Rhea with his shoulder.

"Oi, rude Black."

"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Wood rumbled, ignoring the two arguing fifth years, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. "And me," he added as an afterthought. It was somewhat unenthusiastic. As if he didn't consider himself that much of a help to the team.

"We think you're very good too, Oliver," said George for the first time not trying to joke about, but sincerely giving some encouragement to his Captain.

"Spanking good Keeper," Fred couldn't help but add in.

"The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, the team was surprised there yet wasn't a hole in the ground, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..." Wood spoke so dejectedly. He so wanted it. It was his big dream. The only big thing for him besides becoming a professional Quidditch player. Even Fred and George looked sympathetic, wanting to grant their friend the one thing that he always wanted. He has been trying so hard to win the cup and this was it.

"Oliver, this year's our year," said Fred encouragingly.

"Yeah, the Cup is already sitting in our common room," Rhea said happily. Giving Oliver an award-winning smile.

"We'll do it, Oliver!" Angelina also cheered. Even if she was now a Prefect there was nothing more important for her now than winning the Quidditch Cup.