Either/Or

Either/Or

Chapter 1: Of girls... and then some

Oliver Wood cleared his head to clear his thoughts--which was a first for him since his thoughts were on Quidditch. And the Gryffindor Quidditch captain was known for being a "bit" obsessive about the greatest sport in the universe.

But this was no the time to think about Quidditch and the truth was, he didn't know how to go about not thinking about the sport. Quidditch was constantly on his mind. During classes, his mind often wandered to how much harder he should be training the team. Sometime, while eating, he would move his food around, pretending that they were Quidditch players and the thought of actually eating his players--er, food--made him a tad queasy and hence the leftovers. Even when studying for the exams, there was always a piece of paper at hand waiting to be filled with ideas for improving the team's defense. Talking about defense...

Oliver shook his head again. It was obvious that he would just have to come to grips with the situation before he shook his head loose.

"The ball... the ball... the ball..."

He figured that if he would just chant the words over and over again, he could get himself into a kind of zone like he did before playing a match.

No go. It was useless. The moment he thought about the word ball, he had began to think about Quidditch again.

Oliver Wood: dateless for the Yule Ball.

Suddenly, Oliver wished that he had been a better boyfriend to Miranda, or Cynthia (his girlfriend before Miranda). Or Lisa. Or Jeanine (or was it Jasmine?)... and all of his other former girlfriends whose names he had... well, not really forgotten... he just sometimes forgot that he had actually went out with the girl.

They had all dumped him after complaining about him being too preoccupied with Quidditch. He wasn't sure if that was true, though. All he remembered was nodding distractedly while silently contemplating the best game strategies.

"Oi, Wood!"

Oliver looked up to see his friends Percy Weasley with brothers Fred and George, who were identical twins, as they came stomping into the Gryffindor common room.

Percy and Oliver were in the same year and had a number of classes together and Fred and George, the resident clowns, were both Beaters for the house Quidditch team.

Oliver liked the brothers because they were a little like him. They were all passionate about something. Oliver had Quidditch to fill his mind. The twins were hell-bent on wreaking havoc (or 'good entertainment' as they like to call it) wherever they went. And Percy... well, Percy wanted to be--anything that required him being a perfect student. Or not so perfect, as the twins would often point out.

George held out what looked like a small yellow and white striped candy which Oliver hastily declined. One could never be too sure where the Weasley twins were involved.

"Going home tomorrow for the Christmas holidays?" Percy asked, taking a seat across from Oliver.

Oliver sighed. "Nope. My parents are attending a summit in Altenaia. Something to do with international magic relations-something-or-other crap. Mum's delivering a speech on that." A disgruntled look came over his handsome face. "Really boring, I'll wager. I'd stay here at Hogwarts if my parents weren't so scared of Sirius Black being on the loose and all..."

What came out of the Gryffindor Head Boy were 'predictably Percy.' "What's wrong with going to the summit? I'd give an arm and a leg to be able to go to one of those."

George rolled his eyes. "Yes, Percy. Please do give your leg and arm and when you get to Altenaia, do us all a favor and never come back?"

"I know what you mean, though," Fred told Oliver, with a quick nod. "Mum's constantly writing--checking on us, you know. She's really fretting about Ron's wanting to stay here for the holidays."

"Why would Ron want to stay here?" Oliver couldn't help but be a bit perplexed. He was an only child and he always wished that he had other siblings that he could talk to or practice Quidditch with. It was lonely being an only child.

George grinned. "I'm surprised you haven't noticed that he and Harry are practically joined at the hip--kinda like Fred and me, really..." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Actually, I'm not surprised that you haven't noticed Mr.-Gryffindor-Quidditch-Captain-I-can't-see-anything-but-flying-balls."

"Don't worry," Oliver muttered under his breath. "No Quidditch this time."

He really hadn't meant for his friends to hear, but they did anyway.

"Hey! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

Fred ignored Oliver as he continued searching his head. "For bumps," he informed them. His eyes narrowed. "That's strange, there doesn't seem to be any..."

"And his reflexes aren't shot," George said, reporting the obvious when Oliver almost jumped out of his seat after being poked in the ribs. "One question though: What's the greatest thing in the world?"

"Quidditch!" Oliver replied automatically. "There is nothing wrong with me. I just began thinking that maybe I shouldn't always be so obsessed with the sport..." Oliver could feel himself faltering.

"Well, what else is there for you think about?" Percy prodded. This was definitely not the Oliver Wood that they knew. If the man started hyperventilating, they just have to say the word 'Quidditch' instead of a tyer root, to save him.

"There are a lot of things like... relationships, for instance..."

Oliver gave the twins a good glare when they burst into laughter. And even Percy looked like he was fighting back a smile. Good thing the common room was empty.

"You're joking, right?" George managed to ask between laughs.

"I'm serious."

"Wood," Fred said after sobering up a little. "You are the last person in the world I would think of who has problems with girls. You've had relationships--about a billion of them. You were even in relationships you didn't even know existed!"

Percy nodded in agreement. "He's right. You're swamped with girls wherever you go." He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You're the Gryffindor Quidditch captain! I can't see why you're so worried about girls."

"Look at Percy here." George was now preoccupied with emptying his pockets. Oliver never knew that their trouser pockets could hold so much. "Have you seen him in the mornings? A bloody mess, is what! But he has Penelope Clearwater."

"The poor old dear..." Fred remarked with a chuckle.

It was fate that had Katie Bell come through the portrait hole and into the common room. She was one of the Chasers on the house Quidditch team and therefore felt quite comfortable upon seeing the group of boys whom she knew well.

"A little boy talk?" Katie asked mischievously as she came closer. "Scared about the Yule Ball?"

Oliver gritted his teeth. She just had to say it.

"Sod off, Katie," George said in a teasingly. "We be talking about girls and I don't think that you'd appreciate the things that we have to say about your kind."

"Personally," Percy announced suddenly. Oliver recognized the tone of voice that his friend was using. It was the kind that Percy used when he was feeling somewhat superior. "I think that we could use a little feminine insight into Oliver's problem."

"Thank you kind sir," she said, bestowing him with a mock curtsey--before promptly stumbling and being caught by George. Blushing to her ears, she asked, "So what can I help you with?"

"Oliver can't find a girlfriend."

Oliver almost jumped out of his chair to strangle Fred. Seriously, his problem wasn't as simple as that. His problem was that he couldn't find a... Damn. It couldn't be as simple as that, could it?

Katie mused over the statement for a while before speaking up. "I don't think you have a problem with getting a girlfriend--"

"I told you so!" Fred exclaimed, impolitely interrupting Katie who was frowning at him.

"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," she continued, try to sound indignant, but ruining it anyway when she smiled. "I think your problem is actually staying in the relationship. It isn't just about finding the right girl, Oliver." She finished simply, feeling quite proud of herself indeed.

"It isn't?"

Katie sighed. Were boys really born with thicker heads than girls? "No, it isn't. You can find the girl whose perfect for you and all, but that doesn't mean that everything is smooth sailing from there." Great, they should have seminars about this, she thought. "A relationship is a two-way street. That's really cliché, but that's because it's true. You have to be the perfect boyfriend to your perfect girlfriend, if you want the perfect relationship... which is probably why there isn't such a thing as the perfect relationship."

"And I'm not the perfect boyfriend?" Oliver had intended that as a joke, but when he said it out loud, he knew that he was the joke. He was a bad boyfriend.

"Listen," Katie said, after a moment's silence. "Maybe things will work out for you when you find her. But you have to understand that if you have to work hard to get something, you have to work even harder to keep it."

Oliver knew that what Katie said was true. But later that nigh, as he stared up at the ceiling of his canopy bed, Oliver was still worried.

He had to admit that at first, he wasn't sure why getting a date for the Yule Ball was so important. Of course, it was understandable that it was the going to be the last formal that he would be attending at Hogwarts, but it can't be as important as, say, the next Quidditch match that was against Ravenclaw. Especially now that they lost against Hufflepuff, and...

Enough of that.

The thing is, Oliver realized something a few days ago. He was a stranger in his own school. It's absurd, but it was, unfortunately, true. These past seven years hadn't been much of a blur like it was for his classmates and friends. It was pretty much the same for him: Quidditch, classes, Quidditch, eat, Quidditch, sleep, Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch...

It seemed pitiful--no, actually, it really was pitiful. And Oliver somehow felt that finding a date to the ball, a date who might really meant something to him, could be his last stab at a meaningful relationship here in Hogwarts... a memory that he could reminisce and smile at in the future--something that had nothing to do whatsoever with Quidditch.

Suddenly, he remembered his team Seeker, the young Harry Potter. Harry was only in his third year and yet the young boy had seen more of Hogwarts than Oliver ever would. Could it really be true that there was something out there that's more important than Quidditch? Well, not more important--but as important, perhaps?

There had to be, else he wouldn't be feeling the ache that clenched at his heart. He knew the feeling, yet refused to say it out loud.

"I'm lonely," he whispered into the darkness.