I can honestly sum my life up in one word: quidditch. My life revolves around the sport. I'm a chaser for Slytherin, the only girl on the team, first in history actually. If that doesn't tell you I'm good, then I don't know what will. To make it even better, I'm captain now since Flint got suspended for nearly killing a Hufflepuff in our last match.
In three days it'll be the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match and if Slytherin doesn't win no one will want me to be captain. That would be why I schedule practice at any and every time possible for the past two weeks. I've worked the team nearly to death but it has been worth it. In a matter of days, after countless hours of work, I've seen improvement in every single player. Maybe I really can keep my captain position.
"Oi, Lindsay! Why do we have practice from five to eight tomorrow morning? Wait till my father hears this!" Draco Malfoy, second year and seeker, was the one I hated most on my team. He's only on the team because Snape made us put him on because his father bought the whole team Nimbus 2001's. They're wicked awesome brooms that I fell in love with once I rode one. Not worth putting up with the spoiled git though.
Turning around on my heal I faced Draco. My patience was shrinking for this boy, "Shut the bloody hell up! The only reason why I make the team practice so much is because you won't catch the golden snitch against Potter! Everyone else needs to pick their effort to make up for your lack of talent! To top it all off, Wood happens to be one of the best quidditch players I've ever seen! How am I going to score on him when he plays keeper?" What can I say? I can really be a true Slytherin at times.
Everyone, and I mean everyone, in the Great Hall was turned towards us. All the professors were evening watching me. My face turned red from embarrassment. I grabbed my books, and bolted out of the crowded room.
During the days after my explosion, everyone was nicer to me. Even the Gryffindors would hold a conversation without any insults with me! It seemed like everyone in the castle happy that someone finally told Draco Malfoy off. He might have only been here at Hogwarts for a short period of time but it didn't take long for people to start hating him.
I was walking down to the quidditch pitch three hours early to get ready for the match. Halfway there I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. When I looked to see who it was, I couldn't believe my eyes. It was the incredibly handsome Gryfindor captain and keeper, Oliver Wood! How could I not be shocked?
He looked awkward standing in front of me. So I gave him a smile to help lessen the awkwardness between us. Oliver shuffled his feet but spoke none the less, "I saw what you did to Malfoy the other day. I think it was bloody brilliant!" His face had a large grin plastered on it but it soon went away giving him a serious look. His chocolate brown eyes stared into my icy blue ones, "Did you really mean what you said about me? I was thinking the same about you; how will I keep you from scoring one me?"
I was astonished that Oliver Wood would ever think something like that about me. The Quidditch Gryffindor God even thinking about my quidditch skills were up to level with his? He must have been hit in the head with a bludger one too many times. I giggled and said, "I would never be as good as you are Oliver. You're going to become a professional, I just know it! Well anyway good luck during the match today!" Giving him one last smile, I started towards the Slytherin locker rooms again.
Not even getting twenty yards closer, Oliver yelled out, "Wait!" Letting out a sigh I waited for him to catch up so we could walk down together. I expected he simply wanted to continue on with our conversation. Well apparently Mr. Wood had something else in mind. He spun me around to face him, cupped my face in his hands, and kissed passionately. Pulling away he whispered, "I love you Lindsay. Will you fly with me today?"
I was shocked. My heart sped up and I felt as if I was going to faint. I had always had secret feelings for Oliver since fourth year and now in seventh I can tell him how I truly felt, "I love you too Oliver. And yes, I'll fly with you but I'm still going to kick your arse in the match today."
