ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ,
Stories with you and your favourite Harry Potter characters cause we all know we have one or more Harry Potter characters we're hopelessly in love with. I wrote the first few ones when I was bored AKA when I was...
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"Hey, L/n," said Oliver Wood with a goofy smirk on his face. I knew he was going to comment on our lost match last Friday. We lost by 180 points to Hufflepuff all because our seeker, Cho, took a bludger to the head at the beginning of the match. It was the worst game we'd ever had.
"What is it, Wood?" I asked, already imagining all the taunts that were going to come my way. My friends immediately left my side knowing how annoying our competitiveness could get. I shot them a look. Those traitors.
"I heard how your match had gone. I wanted to say I'm sorry about that." I looked at him surprised. Where was the insult?
He continued, looking solemn," I was worried your poor huge ego wouldn't be able to take it. Is your ego fine?" Ah, there the insult was.
I ignored him, walking forward. Don't let your temper get the best of you, Y/n, I told myself. The last time that had happened, I'd gotten a week's worth of detentions with Wood from Snape.
"I suppose I could teach you some Quidditch myself for the next match, L/n."
3
"You definitely need all the training you can get."
2
"Although, no amount of training could help your mediocre team."
1
"That's it, Wood." I turned around. "You insult me, I'll take it. Don't you bloody say anything about my team! Not when you didn't win one match before Wonder-boy Potter joined your team! You lost every. single. match!"
"We won the last two years, L/n. You weren't even in the running! Your team will never win a match. Against us or anyone else. Your team is full of wannabes who don't know how to pla-"
That's it. He'd gone too far.
I grabbed his collar and turned his face towards mine. "Look, here, Wood, we're going to win the next match. Just you watch. I bet you, we will."
"Bet? Fine. What do you wager?"
"If we win, you have to be my man-servant for a week. You have to do anything I want. Got it?"
"If I win, the same goes to you." I left his collar and stepped back.
"Where are you going?" he asked," It's not an actual bet unless we shake on it."
"Fine," I said, turning back. He spat on his hand and extended it towards me. "There's no way in hell I'm shaking that."
"You have to!"
"You spit on it, that's disgusting!"
"Fine! But don't forget about the bet."
"How could I forget about getting a servant for a week?"
