Like a Slap in the Face

Oliver Wood is an insufferable good-for-nothing twit.
All he does is swagger around, flaunting his Quiddich title and show off his godly good-looks. Wood is the sort of person who is bloody gorgeous and knows it. He isn't afraid to show it off either. And boy does he make an effort of strutting around, sending his petty fan girls winks. He can't keep his self-obsorbed, nosy attitude to himself, either. And the toerag can go die in a hole full of nagging, strict Percy Weasleys and sharp basilisk fangs for all I care.
But don't get me wrong, I love the guy.


3. I'm Tired and Cranky so Dont Touch Me

My sixth year twits kept me up half the night, gossiping and giggling. I swear at some point I heard my name.
The morning was just as brutal. Angie was a major morning person. Just jumping around, singing and smiling. Where as Alicia and I had literally hissed at the crazy wench. 
"C'mon guys! Get dressed! We have practice in an hour!" She said, tying her wicked black locks into a pony. 
I groaned, remembering our six o'clock practice. It was inhuman to have one this early. With a sigh, I pulled myself out of bed, nearly falling ontop of my baby, Aeron. 
I lazily pulled my Quiddich robes on. Looking in the mirror, I saw that my hair was dark purple. Cool beans. 
"Who else is ready? I want to eat before practice." I sighed. Angie jumped up, smiling and Katie lamely dragged herself out. Leesh hadnt moved from her bed. 
There were very few students up at this time. There wasn't a single Slytherin seated at their table, and only Fred, George and Oliver were at ours. Well, Raquel was too but I don't like her face so I didn't say her. 
"Good morning, ladies. You all look especially beautiful this morning." Grinned Fred. 
"Except you Katie. You look like you got run over by one of Hagrid's beasts." George added, only smiling wider as Kat flipped him the bird. 
I watched quietly as the blonde bint hung onto Oliver's arm as he tried to eat. I would've laughed if it weren't for the lost look on his face. 
Still without a word, I looked down at my plate, piling pancakes into my mouth. My pumpkin juice looked unusually good this morning. So instead of drinking I stared at it. 
"My, my!" Said George, looking at me curiously. "I don't think I've ever heard you go so long without speaking." I shrugged, pushing the plate away and setting my face on the table. 
"Well it's actually a miracle, I think." Said a discustingly sweet voice.
"You're the only one, twat." Said Alicia's voice. I felt the bench next to me dip as she sat down. Leesh was the only person beside myself that would talk to Raquel like that. We both are quite outspoken. Except for this morning. I'm too tired. 
"Twat? You can't talk to me like that!" 
"Watch me." 
"The only thing I'll be watching you do is fail in life."
"At least I don't wear two pounds of makeup to look halfway decent. "
"Trust me, you do."
"Why would I trust something like you?"
"Stop!" All went quiet at the sound of Oliver's exasperated voice. "Just...stop." 
Even then I hadnt moved my head from the table. I'm not sure why I'm so moody. I just feel like crap. 
So, to avoid anymore contact, I got up and left the Great Hall. Practice was soon so I decided to go the the Pitch. I went to our teams' broom cuboard and took out my fancy Nimbus 2000.  I admit, it was a bit out of date, but it's more than I could ever afford. Oliver had gotten it for me on Christmas a few years back. He had saved up for months. I think it was the best present I had ever gotten. Scratch that, know. My foster parents didn't care for me. In fact, I have never once gotten a present from them. The Nimbus was the third best broom out there, and that was good. Honestly, I'm still guilty for accepting it. 
I mounted my broom, kicking off with ease and just floated upward. Simply sitting in the broom above the field made me feel better. I even threw a few rocks at the tiny little Slytherin firsties who thought it was cool to attempt a broom closet break-in. 
Eventually, my dear Alicia had made her way to the field and hovered by my side.
"Hey babe."
"Sup hot stuff." I said. The two of us shared silly smiles. 
"So why was my ickle Strange so quiet at breakfast?" She asked. 
"It's morning and I'm tired. Wood is bloody mad for scheduleing practice this early." I sighed, handing her a stone from my pocket. Without hesitation, Leesh chucked it at one of the last Slytherins. 
"Yeah I'd say something, but I don't fancy laps all that much." She snorted, holding her hand out for another stone. This one was directed at a rather ugly crow. 
"And nor do I." 
I looked at my friend, only to look back as the sound of an angry bird screeched in air. We screamed as the ugly crow returned, flailing it's claws madly at Leesh. 
"Fly woman!" I yelled, jumping off my broom as the thing came near me. I wasn't that far from the ground, so I landed lightly. By lightly, I mean on my butt in the grass. 
The cursed bird chased after Alicia and I as we sprinted off the feild and toward our team, who just so happened to be on their way to the pitch. It didn't even ouccur to us that we were indeed witches, and could zap the thing with our wands. I literally jumped on Fred as we came near. 
"Save us!" 
The twins were flat on their backs with two crazy girl on top of them, screaming bloody murder. 
The screeching crow was shot out of air by Angie, while Fred managed to get up, although I still cowered behind him. 
"What did you do to it?" Katie asked, picking up the stunned bird by the wing. 
"Alicia did it!" I said automatically, pointing to Leesh. 
"All I did was throw a rock at it."
" can't do that." Katie said softly, talking to her as you would a three-year old. 
Alicia looked at her feet in mock guilt. I walked beside my team, quite a bit more cheerful than earlier. I think the Slytherin children had something to do with it. 
We proceeded to the feild, where Leesh and I pick up our fallen brooms. We hovered above the pitch, waiting for the rest to show up. When they did, Fred and George were sharing equally smug looks. 
"What's up with you two?" I asked. 
"Nothing." They chimed in unison. 
Dropping the subject, I looked to our Captin, whose cheeks were now a blazing red. What did the twins say...?
"Alright, so today our lovely chasers–" cue giggles from Ang, Leesh and Kat. "–Are going to work on their defensive plays. I want my amazing beaters–" cue giggles from Fred and George. "–and the seeker are going to play against them. Meanwhile, I'll...y'know be at the hoops." 
Gee. I'm so flattered.
Note the sarcasm. 
We got into positions as Wood brought out the Quaffle. 
Game on. 

As expected, our little scrimmage was a failure. Ang, Kat, and Leesh are pros compared to us. Wood got one bloody fine laugh outta that. But our practice was ruined when the Slimey Slytherin team showed up. 
"Aye scraggle tooth!" I called. "What are you doing on our pitch?!" The rest of the team followed my eyes down to Marcus Flint. (He was a supposed to have graduated, but had to repeat his last year.) His nostrils flared, glaring up at me. 
"We have the pitch." He said, deep voice threatening. By now Wood had flown down to talk to him. 
"No you don't. I scheduled the pitch from six, to eight, Flint." Oliver spat, staring down at the absolutely revolting Slytgerin. 
I had long since took Oliver's side, along with the rest of our team. George had placed a hand on my shoulder, knowing of my very short temper. 
"Professor Snape reserved the pitch from seven to eight-thirty. Looks like your time is up." Flint smirked, holding up a paper. I had to jump in order to read it, but it was indeed signed by Snape. That greasy haired tosser...
The rest of the Slytherin slime laughed as Oliver dismissed us. I turned to Flint, livid. 
"You insufferable, slimey, crooked-tooth, washed out, vile, disgusting creature!" I fumed. 
Flint merely cackled down at me. "What are you going to do about it?" He snarled. If it weren't for George, I might of socked him one. Fred stood firmly behind his brother, glaring. 
As we turned to walk off, I felt a hand swat at my backside. That set me off.
"WHO IN THE NAME OF MERLIN—" I screamed, jumping at the nearest Slytherin, clawing at him. George grabbed me around the abdomen as Fred took my feet. They carried me off as I shrieked insults at the sick round of boys. 
"Shame you're a Gryffindor!" One called. "Bet you would've been fun." 

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