Conflict of Interest (Oliver Wood)

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This one is about our favourite lovable, quidditch maniac ~

Professor Flitwick, as loveable as he was, had quickly become my least favourite teacher. Now that was saying something – especially because I had fallen in love with Charms since my first lesson and from first year onwards he had become my favourite Professor in the school. He even trumped my head of house. But Professor Sprout had no reason to know that.

It had taken one decision of his to suddenly make him my least favourite. And that one decision had been the person he'd assigned to be my Charms partner for the term. Now normally I had no issue with Professor Flitwick picking partners for us, but everyone knew that in seventh year, the partner you were given was the person you'd have to carry out your final year project with. And who had I been lumped with? Resident quidditch maniac Oliver Wood.

Helga help me, I'd never get the man to focus on the project when quidditch was occupying his mind. But I wasn't going to let him interfere with my grades – I was going to get an outstanding on the final exam and was going on to become a healer. I was going to break away from my surname and was going to become something more than a reflection of my brother and father.

With those words as my resolution, I waited until the lesson came to an end. When it did, I packed my things slowly and gestured for my friends to go ahead without me. Once they had left the room, I looked around the room in search of Wood. He was heading out of the classroom, chatting to Percy Weasley as he did so. Hurrying to pack the rest of my things, I quickened my steps, weaving my way through the crowd of students as I chased after him.

"Wood," I called out, making the two stop in their steps.

Wood looked over his shoulder, eyes falling onto my figure as I stood away from him. Without looking back to Percy, Wood gestured for him to leave without him. Closing the distance between us, he came to a stop a few feet away from me.

Looking down at me expectantly, he pushed his bag further up his shoulder, "Is there anything I can help you with, Vosper?"

"It's about the project," I explained, frowning a little when he chuckled after I had spoken. Was there something funny in what I had said?

"You don't mean that you want to start it now, do you?" He shook his head in disbelief, "Come on lass, take a moment to breath. We can start the project after the Easter holiday and still submit it in time."

"It's due in a week after the holiday!" I protested, "You can't rush the project and cram it into a week. We'll never get an O that way."

"No-one said that we need to get an O." I narrowed my eyes at him; maybe he didn't need to get an O, but I did. "You're beginning to sound like one of the Ravenclaws. We can still get an A and pass."

"I need to get an O," I said firmly, using the no nonsense voice I'd learnt from my dad. His eyebrows rose in surprise; but why shouldn't he be surprised? I was the sort of person that rarely spoke but he was pushing my buttons today. "I need to get an O to be able to join the career path that I want – so don't take that attitude. Not when the work you do will be directly linked to me."

"Fine, lass. Calm down." He raised his hands in surrender, the gesture was more patronising than it was calming.

"Look," I couldn't help but sigh. "All I'm asking is that we get the project started so we can get the grades we need."

"Well we can't start it now," he insisted, "We're at a crucial point in the quidditch season. The Gryffindor team took a battering during the Christmas term."

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