The Not Famous Potter

Chapter 9

Second Year

Harry Potter this and Harry Potter that. It was all Oliver heard on the way to the train station. His parents had allowed him to go back with the Weasley's, as long as he promised to behave and remember what they told him. Oliver had absolutely no intention of getting to know some first year annoyance.

He pushed his trolley in between the twins. Percy walked ahead of them, his nose to the sky. He had been made a Prefect this year and was becoming more snobbish. His remarks about Oliver's home life hadn't diminished over the summer either. How he managed to get Prefect, neither Oliver or the twins knew.

Behind them was the youngest, Ron, with their little sister Ginny. She was complaining about not getting to go to Hogwarts. The twins promised her a toilet seat and their mother, Molly Weasley, had smacked them both for it.

George followed Percy through the wall that would take them to Platform 9 3/4, who was then followed by Fred. Oliver was just getting ready to run when a small voice came from behind.

"Excuse me."

Oliver turned and immediately frowned. It was none other than the Potter brat himself. He had a snowy white owl on top of his trunk on his trolley. The boy was again dressed in clothes that look much too big on him and tattered. His hair was sticking up and his glasses were broken. He was too busy sizing him up to hear what he said.

"Oliver will show you how it's done, won't you dear?" Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly at Oliver.

Oliver groaned internally but nodded. He grabbed his trolley and broke into a run. Soon he was on the other side of the platform, greeted by the sights and sounds of his fellow classmates. He easily walked past his dorm mates and found the twins, who had already claimed their compartment.

Fred grabbed Oliver's trunk, "We saved you a spot, I'll grab this for ya," he vanished back on the train in a blink of an eye.

George waved to the rest of the family, who finally managed to cross over, "So what's your problem with that kid?"

"Hmm?" Oliver raised an eyebrow, "Who said I had a problem?"

"If looks could kill, he'd be dead twice over by your eyes."

"I don't have a problem with him," Oliver crossed his arms and huffed, "I don't have to like him."

George hummed, "Just don't forget how much it hurt when everyone bullied you last year. Who knows if they'll still bug you now too. He's going to have a hard time without you being mean to him."

Oliver's shoulders slightly fell from the tension leaving him. He hadn't thought about that. His own parents had adopted him after he had been abandoned, so that didn't make Potter any different. Sure, he was a scrawny kid, but that didn't mean he deserved to be treated so low, right?

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Oliver stormed into the boys bathroom and flung his glasses against the sink. This was the third time this week he had flunked a potion because Cormac thought it would be funny to throw unexpected ingredients into his cauldron.

Blue goo coated his hair and dripped down his face. Oliver turned the faucet on and tried to wash it off best he could. Professor Snape wasn't any help, he just took points away from Gryffindor from both of them and told Oliver to wash up.

He bit down on his lip as he tried to hold the tears back. He wished Charlie was still here to give him a hug and offer words of comfort. Cedric was busy in Herbology with the Ravenclaws so he couldn't ask him.

He sighed heavily as he watched the blue substance trickle down the drain. He was getting more and more frustrated that people wouldn't leave him alone. Even when he tried to ignore them, they'd go looking for him. He didn't understand why people hated the fact that his parents were two men.

It made him think more about Charlie. He was always sweet to Oliver and had a way of making him feel better. It made Oliver feel special in a way but they were just close friends, nothing more.

He loved his parents and everything they did for him. But he didn't want to be like them, he would just be bullied more for it, he was sure of it.

With all these thoughts in his mind, Oliver put his glasses back on and left the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and jumped slightly when he saw Professor McGonagall standing outside.

"Professor," he nodded.

"Mr. Lupin," she said, "I have been made aware that some of your peers are giving you a difficult time."

He shrugged, "Doesn't matter. I'll deal with it on my own."

She sighed, "Mr. Lupin as your Head of House-"

"You haven't been much help to me before," he put his hands on his hips and frowned, "I don't need your pity now."

Professor McGonagall watched him walk down the corridor, fascination all over her face. Last year he had reminded her of one of her students, now he so closely resembled another. She couldn't quite pinpoint who, but there was something about him that was so familiar. The way he carried himself and talked. He was a trouble maker like the Weasley twins for sure, but his personality ranged from sweetheart to a firecracker. She just had to get to the bottom of this.

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Oliver Wood was a fifth year Gryffindor who was Captain of the Quidditch team. He was one of the best Keepers and he was ready to find fresh new talent for his Seeker position. Fred and George were Beaters on the team and they had three girls as Chasers.

Oliver stood nervously with other Gryffindors from various years who all wanted to be Seeker. He watched as a few first years were turned away and a few of the older students ran off due to nerves. Oliver straightened his back, he was determined to do well.

"Oye, Oli," Fred came up beside Oliver on his broom, hovering a few feet over him, "Nervous?"

"Naw," Oliver smirked, "I'm so ready. I had Charlie as my teacher."

George flew next to his other side, "Really? As I recall you cried the first time you fell off your broom."

"Shut it," Oliver tried to smack him but missed when George flew a few feet higher, laughing as he did so.

The twins bade him good luck and flew to the other side of the pitch so they could practice. Wood began to instruct the students to do exercises and drills to test their skills. After an hour of practice, they were each given a turn in a scrimmage and their job was simple. Catch the Snitch as fast as possible.

Oliver touched down to the ground with the Snitch firmly his grasp. He had just finished his turn after having watched student after student catch the sneaky little ball. He breathed heavily as he raised his fist towards Wood, who smiled and scribbled on his parchment. Oliver felt confident with that run, it felt like he had been one of the faster students. Hopefully he could get the spot and tell Charlie how well he did.

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