Chasing The Keeper

Gift Exchange

I felt myself practically dance around my house. My mood couldn't have been soiled, not even by the dirty looks I caught Oliver shooting me throughout the remainder of dinner. To my surprise, his mood, however, seemed to be more relaxed after Vincent's departure.

"Alright Y/n, go lead Oliver to his room." My mom said cheerily. "Adults have to talk about some adult things."

"Alright, mother dearest." I groaned, unable to keep a smile off my face.

I quickly bolted up the stairs, hearing Oliver fast behind me.

"Wait up!" He yelled as I slammed into the wall at the top of the stairs, pushing myself forward and towards his room.

"Never!" I heaved, bursting into the guest bedroom, that already had his things in it.

"Fuck you're fast." Oliver crashed into the room only moments later. "It would be so useful to have apparition to get to you quicker right about now."

"Well lucky for me," I giggled, "You haven't even started taking apparition lessons."

"That's because they haven't started." Oliver rolled his eyes. "And it's not like you've gotten any closer to learning it than I have."

"But that my dear," I beamed proudly, "Is why I'm also lucky to be faster than you."

"You're a little cheeky devil aren't ya Stone." Oliver chortled, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Only to you Woody." I snickered and walked over to the bedstand.

In the drawer was my gift for Oliver. I pulled out a small leather-bound notebook with gold leaf on the edge of its pages.

"That tattered old clipboard and shitty pieces of parchment that you take notes for quidditch while you spy on my team pisses me off." I snorted, handing him the notebook.

"Whatever works." Oliver shrugged, chuckling as he took his gift, inspecting it carefully.

"Clearly it hasn't, since Ravenclaw took the cup last year." My eyes couldn't help but be drawn to his long slender fingers, and how gently they handled the gift.

He stood silent for a bit, his soft eyes scanning through the empty pages of the journal, looking for nothing in particular.

"Hold on," I grinned harder. "When you're in Hogwarts, tap on the exterior with your wand and whisper practice is over for it to lock."

"And to unlock?" Oliver cocked his eyebrow.

"Quidditch calls. Enchanted it myself." I smirked. "But since we're not in school, I guess you can't really test it."

"Impressive." Oliver snickered, "well I've got a gift for you too."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, just barely smaller than his palm. He stretched out his hand, and I took the small parcel.

"What's this?" I looked up at Oliver, who was smiling excitedly.

The box initially looked like a jewellery box, but upon taking it into my hand, there was no rattle, and it seemed heavier than if it was a small necklace.

"Open it." Oliver stuffed his hands into both pockets in his jeans.I gently pulled on the string binding the lid to the box, and it came off with ease. I pulled off the lid and saw a white handkerchief neatly folded inside.

"Well go on," Oliver prodded, "Take it out."

"This better not have a booger hex on it." I laughed.

"Good idea, I'll save that for another time." Oliver smiled, his hazel eyes boring into my own.

I slowly took out the white handkerchief and straightened it out. It remained white, and I looked up at Oliver questioningly, to which he motioned me to wait. I focused my attention back to the handkerchief. Suddenly it began to lightly flutter in my grasp, and on came a small blue silhouette of a quidditch player, holding a large quaffle and speeding towards something. That something was revealed only moments later. It was a red goal post, guarded by a red silhouette. The blue expertly manoeuvred and threw a curveball at the little keeper, scoring a point.

"It's a mini quidditch game that you can watch at any moment if you're bored." He beamed. "Look!"

Another player came into view. Another blue silhouette, riding a slick-looking broomstick, with a large bat in their hands. A black bludger chased after them, and they swung at it very freely.

"Wow, this is so cool." I laughed, watching the tiny game.

"I had some help enhancing it, and had a second-year do some drawings for it while we were in school," Oliver stated proudly. "Before the attacks."

"That's actually..." I paused, feeling that familiar flutter. "Very thoughtful, thank you."

"Oh don't mention it." Oliver swatted the air, looking rather pleased with himself.

"So what did Ford get you anyway?"

"Oh," I said, my flutters disappearing just as quickly as they appeared. "Wouldn't you like to know Woody."

"Of course I wouldn't." He huffed. "I was just curious that's all."

"Right." I nodded, slowly walking towards the door. "Well, I'm feeling tired. Happy Christmas Wood."

"Happy Christmas Stone," Oliver said.

I lingered at the door for a moment, our eyes locked.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," I whispered, before exiting the room and walking to my own.

As soon as I closed my door I collapsed onto my bed and watched the little figures on my handkerchief move and compete. School would start soon, and my blooming relationship with Vincent Ford will be mainly through letters. And Oliver, our rivalry, would we continue the endless bickering. I used to hate it, but now, I don't even mind. His annoying Scottish voice has grown on me. Stockholm Syndrome perhaps? The little figures on the handkerchief continued to move, and I gingerly folded the small piece of cloth onto my bed stand. I was quite tired, and despite the excitement of the day, I couldn't help but want to fall into a deep sleep until the first rays of sunshine poured through my small window.I crept into some old pyjamas and crawled into my warm bed. My last thought before drifting off was what my father would think of Vincent. He would probably like him and chat him up about quidditch.