Written: Sometime in 2019
Edited: July 2021
Y/H/H=Your Hogwarts house. (Won't come up much but it's still nice to choose.)
Prompt: Oliver and Harry Potter's secret elder sister meet at Hogwarts. She is brought up by the Weasley family.
Requested by becafoley
Your POV:
I was walking down the hallway to the pitch. I, personally, didn't care much for Quidditch, but my brothers did. George and Fred. I sighed as I walked to a seat. I noticed the keeper, a boy in my year, blocking the hoop thingies. I am a fourth year this year, my brothers Fred and George were in their first year. I don't exactly look like a Weasley to be honest. I have the red hair, but I have green eyes. Mrs. Weasley says that I was found on their door step with a worn note attached. I am a Potter and Mrs. Weasley is like an aunt/mother to me. I was also sorted into Y/H/H. I watched my brothers fly out waving their bats and yelling. I stifle a laugh and resume working on my History of Magic paper.
"Y/n!" Fed shrieked. My head snapped up.
"Look out!" The brown haired keeper yelled. I see a red ball come hurling towards me.
"Protego!" I yell but a little too late. The ball whams into my head and I'm out cold.
Oliver's POV:
I notice a red haired girl in the stands. I think I've seen her before but I can't figure out where. I probably have had classes with her since I think I'm in the same year as her. She looks nice.
"Yo, Wood!" My captain yelled at me. "Stop checking out the girl!" He barked.
"Hey! That's my sister you numb nut!" One of the red headed beater twins yelled.
"So a Weasley, hmm it seems like the clan is growing," the captain sneered. "I don't care if she's a Weasley or a muffin, we've got to win the damn house cup!" He barked. I snapped back into reality when I was hit in the gut with the Quaffle. I grunt and pay more attention. Until I see the bludger hurtling toward her.
"Y/n!" One of the beater twins yelped catching the girl's attention.
"Look out!" I informed. She tries to cast a spell but it's a little too late as the ball hits her in the head.
"Y/n!" One of the beater twins screams.
George's POV:
"Oh Merlin's beard! Mum is going to kill us!" I yelped at Fred.
"Ah well, we are definitely going to get a howler. It was you who hit the bludger in her direction," Fred accuses.
"It wasn't me, Fred. That was definitely on you," I retort. I notice Oliver had picked up our sister and was starting toward the castle.
"Hey! Oliver where are you going with my sister," Fred screams at our keeper.
"I'm taking her to the infirmary. It won't do her any good if she is left out here," Oliver explains shakily. Fred seems to relax a bit. He's always been the more protective one of us two.
"I think it's gonna be alright?" I try to soothe my brother.
"If she gets any more hurt, I will kill him. Say he's been checking her out a lot did you notice that?" Fred asks changing gears.
"Yeah, wonder if we made there fate intertwine," I joke back.
Oliver's POV:
'Oh no, oh no, oh no,' I frantically thought to myself. I was the captain's assistant and I was in charge of not letting people get hurt. I looked at the I unconscious Weasley and panic even more. I run into the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey starts tutting around and glaring at me.
"Mr. Wood, care to explain?" Pomfrey snaps at me.
"One of the Weasley twins hit her with a bludger," I say pacing.
"Put her here, I'll take care of her," Pomfrey says. I do as she says and scramble out of the hospital wing.
Your POV:
I woke up to a tutting of Madam Pomfrey. She was walking around my bed. She noticed I was away and beckoned someone who was hiding behind curtains.
"Mr. Wood, she won't bite," Madam says.
"Hey. Uh, hello. Uh, crap. Hi!," A thin boy, Mr. Wood, stutters out.
"Hey, Wood," I said smiling a bit. I know I am out of his league because there are a lot of girls already waiting in line.
"Hey, are you feeling alright?" Wood asks.
"I'm better. What happened?" I ask.
"One of the Weasley-er your brothers hit a bludger toward you and uh you took it to the head. It reminds me of my first game, ya know?" Wood says.
"Oh, well I'm glad I'm not dead. Mrs. Weasley would've killed them," I joke letting it slip.
"Wouldn't it be your mum?" Wood asks.
"Yeah, but-ah crap. Well, why not," I said realising I had let it slip.
"What?" Wood asks utterly confused.
"I'm adopted and my surname is Potter," I said proudly.
"Oh? Ok. Well, my name is Oliver," Wood says.
"Right the Gryffindor keeper," I said.
"Yeah, well I'll notify your brothers that you are awake," he says.
"Wait!" I called.
"Yes?" He asks.
"I hope we can get to know each other soon," I said.
"Definitely," he replies kissing my hand. I smile and lay back to prepare for the oncoming ambush of questions my brothers will give me.
Third POV:
"And that's how I met your mother," Oliver said. A brown haired teen sat crosslegged in front of him on the floor.
"So, that's how I get my crush to like me?" the teen asks. "First: play Quidditch. Second: send a bludger hurtling toward their head. Third: play they like me," the teen scribbles in to their notepad.
"No! That is how you kill someone!" Y/n yelled from the kitchen. She was making sandwiches for lunch. Oliver chuckles and walks toward the kitchen. The teen runs outside after they spotted their crush.
"I can help with food," Oliver suggests. Y/n shook her head.
"You'd find a way to turn it into food Quidditch," Y/n laughed. The Teenager ran quickly into the room.
"Dad, Dad! Your advice, it worked!" the teen yelled as another teen stumbled into the quaint house. Y/n whacked Oliver with a wooden spoon and quickly set to work on healing the poor unfortunate teen.
"You know, this takes me back," Oliver said as his teen began questioning if their crush liked them back. The person in question seemed a bit bewildered. "Hey, kid," Oliver called over to his teen. Oliver and Y/n's kid looked over, expectantly, pausing their barrage of questions.
"Yeah, dad?" The kid asked.
"You gotta hit 'em hard enough. really gotta knock 'em out. Like whacking a bludger!" Oliver yelled before Y/n chased him about the house, menacingly wielding her trusty wooden spoon. Oliver's laugh rumbled through the house. In the end, it did seem to do the trick. Though the poor teen needed a few days of rest.
