The Perks of Captainship (An Oliver Wood Love Story) (FF, Harry Potter Series)

Chapter 8

Who Am I Anymore?

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Disclaimer: See Prologue

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This chapter is all about Claire and Oliver! Enjoy! :D

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I sighed. I had been sitting in the library doing work with Wood in silence for a long time. I was getting exhausted. I rubbed my eyes, trying to get rid of the tiredness that was in them.

"Do you remember your first time at Hogwarts?" my head shot up and I stared at Wood, slightly taken aback by his seemingly random question.

A surge of distaste come to my mouth and I grimaced, "Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" he asked me incredulously. "Isn't it supposed to be one of the most memorable moments of your life?"

"Yes, and I still stick with my statement about it being rather un-bloody-fortunate," I sneered at him.

He looked confused. "What about when you got you letter of acceptance? Or when you were getting your wand, feeling what it was like for the first time? And the train ride here? And the boat ride to the castle? When you rode your first broom? What about when you were sorted into your house? Weren't you excited? Happy? Proud?"

I him down.

"When I got my letter, my parents told me they had been lying to me my entire life and said they couldn't hide the fact that I was the lost 'Potter child' any longer. When I first got my wand, I was told the core of my wand was only one-half of a phoenix feather, because the other half was in Voldemort's wand," he flinched slightly when I said the name but I didn't care. "I can't even have a wand that isn't connected to the darkest wizard ever to exist. I was too shy, not to mention pretty rude, on the train ride here because all I could think about the entire time was what people were going to say, what they were going to think, when they found out I was who I was. I knew no one was going to treat me like a real person anymore. When I was on the boat, Hagrid kept asking me questions I didn't know the answer to, like how I got out of the ruins of my home back all those years ago even though I was only three. When I rode my first broom, I was told how like my father I was. That would have been brilliant if it weren't for the fact that I began to remember something about my parents, like a distant memory that I couldn't quite hold onto, and it kept running through my mind until it consumed me to the point where my body was trying so hard to extract the memory, my head hurt so bad I was having sever migranes that got worse and worse until I passed out. When I was getting sorted, I didn't know if I should go into Slytherin, because I'd be closer to Voldemort's Death Eaters and their families. I knew - even at that age - that I had a brilliant brother who was so like me, but I couldn't help wondering if he would be as proud of me as the Malfoys would have been. I knew that if I went into Slytherin, there was a possibility Harry could die and the fate of the world would rest on the shoulders of a Slytherin girl like me who may have been too far gone onto Voldemort's side to even care because there was a possibility that by being put into Slytherin, the 'Dark Lord' could mess with my head and turn me into a follower. I may be a Slytherin, Wood, but I'm not always proud of it."

He looked shocked. I was just as shocked, but I refused to show it, holding my glare firm.

"I-"

"Just drop it, Wood. You probably have something barely more intelligible than what I just said," I mumbled, grabbing my things and shoving them into my bag as I walked out of the library. It was time for dinner, anyway.

"Claire, wait!" I heard him call. I froze. Did... He just... Use my first name again? "I'm sorry."

I whirled around to him, dropping my bag in the process from the shock.