Chapter Thirteen

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"Mel, got detention! Mel, got detention!" Carter sang as he skipped around his sister.

"Will you shut up?" Melanie said as she glanced down at her brother after coming out of Transfiguration.

"Nope," Carter smiled. "I can't wait to tell Mum in my next letter."

"Really? Well, I guess since we're telling Mum stories, that I'll share with her the Christmas story."

Carter's face paled.

"Dear Mum, do you remember last Christmas, when you left to the store to pick up the eggnog? You were only gone for several minutes and I was in the shower. Somehow the carpet caught fire in the living room destroying your prized carpet... while Carter swears he was outside playing-"

"Okay, okay!" Carter said. "I won't tell. But you better not tell Mum that."

"What if I already have? Ooops."

"Shut up Mel," Carter grumbled as she waited for Andy to come out of the classroom.

"What are you doing here, anyways? I figured you'd be hanging around your ol' pal Wood?" she asked.

"Jealous?" Carter grinned.

"Oh yes, I'm very jealous of you and all the time you spend with him, plotting against me."

Carter remained quiet for a moment while she laughed leaning against the wall.

"Do you really think that I don't catch onto things, Carter?"

"No, I knew you knew, but I was hoping otherwise," Carter sighed.

"Dear brother, it'll be a rare day in history when you pull a fast one on me.. but I do appreciate the effort. Bonus points for trying and being quite direct about it too. "

"Do you actually like him, Mel?" Carter asked her curiously.

"What?"

"I'm asking if you actually like him or do you  just like bothering him?"

"A bit of both actually," she said before sticking her tongue out at him. Andy walked out of the classroom behind another student, and Melanie prepared to head back to the common room with her. "Good talk, Carter Farter," she patted him on the head.

"Don't call me that!"








On a cold morning in November, Oliver was up quite early. One of the few students in the Great Hall, he sat himself at the Gryffindor table and sipped on some coffee. He was nervous, it was Gryffindor's first quidditch match of the season and they were going up against Slytherin. He had a new Seeker on the team and while Harry did prove to be a natural, practices could only prepare the boy so much for the actual game. But Oliver did have confidence in his team, he knew they were all great players who played their hardest every game.

Still, there were always those nerves that kept him from sleeping well the night before any game. The new Slytherin capatin Marcus Flint was proving to be a pain in his arse as well. Unlike Melanie's playful banter during passing, Marcus said horrid things in order to intimidate him. Oliver wasn't intimidated by the boy's insults though. However, Marcus was a good player, he played as good as he was ugly if that counted for anything.

He was going over plays in his head as he kept a hard stare focused on the table before him. Not even noticing the person sitting across from him.

When he finally glanced up, he gasped and nearly fell off the bench to see Melanie sitting across him.

"Morning, Olive Juice."

Oliver collected himself and stared at her.

"Olive Juice?" he repeated.

"Olive juice you too," she winked at him.

Oliver made a face. "What are you doing over here?"

"Well, I was originally coming in here to eat, but I looked over here to see you staring down the table, it looked interesting enough."

"I was thinking."

"I know, you're in your pre-match ritual, staring at tables."

"What do you want?"

"How about some company?" she grinned.

"Don't you have friends?"

"Yes, and they are asleep, like normal people at this hour."

"So what are you doing awake?"

"I don't know. I just found myself awake and here I am. "

"Yes here you are," Oliver grumbled but the smile didn't fade from her face.

"You seem quite nervous about the game."

"I'm not."

"Right, you're not. That's why your legs have been shaking for the last ten minutes. It's okay to have pre-game jitters, Oliver. Everyone has them. Even the professionals."

"I'm not nervous."

"Alright, alright. Touchy," She examined a roll resting in one of the bread baskets before picking it up and biting into it.

"You're just going to sit here with me?" he asked.

"I don't see anyone else here volunteering to keep you company. But if you don't want me around, I'll take the hint and go-" she went to rise but Oliver shook his head.

"No...you can stay, I suppose."

"Are you sure, I wouldn't want to interrupt your praying time to the Quidditch Gods."

"Shut up and sit down," he said with a small smile.

"Well if you insist."

Oliver watched as she continued to eat her roll contently.

"Aren't you going to tease me about the upcoming match? Tell me how bad the Gryffindors are going to lose to Slytherin?" he asked confused.

"No," Melanie replied. "I'm actually hoping you guys win. Knock on, Wood," she said before leaning across and knocking on his forehead.

"Hey!" he laughed. "Wait...you want us to win?"

"Yes, I do," Melanie said.

"But why?"

"So Ravenclaw can kick your arses for the cup," she smiled at him.

"We'll see about that, Anderson."

"We certainly will."

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