Wood & Wild

Chapter Nine: The First Match

A/N: Well, we've hit events in the book again, so if some dialogue sounds familiar, you know why! I've unashamedly stolen it! :D This took a long, torturous time to write, so I hope you like it.

~*~*~*~*~

The other three looked solemn. "I haven't a clue, to be honest," Fiona said.

"It's not as though he could have Apparated in," Oliver added. "The Wards would have splinched him."

"Maybe he flew in," Audrey ventured dubiously.

"For starters, where on earth would Sirius Black get a broom from?" Fiona asked. "And, somehow I think the Dementors would've thought of that."

Joe sat in silence for a moment, and then suggested, "Maybe he snuck in some other way. A secret passage, perhaps."

Oliver and Fiona shook their heads. "You're telling me that Dumbledore doesn't know about every secret passage in Hogwarts? That'd have been the first thing they thought of," Fiona said.

"Fiona's right, Dumbledore's not stupid. He would've checked them straight away," Oliver agreed.

"Maybe he got himself Transfigured into an animal of some sort," Joe said thoughtfully.

"Hey, that's an idea." Fiona sat up, ignoring a glare from Percy. "If he was an animal, the Wards wouldn't affect him at all."

"The only problem with that is that he would have to find someone to Transfigure him," Oliver said. "Also, once it wore off, how would he get out?"

Suddenly, Audrey's eyes lit up. "Maybe he's an Animagus. That would explain everything!"

"You're right, Audrey," Joe exclaimed. "Hey, who would have thought that you'd come up with the answer?"

Audrey grinned and stuck out her tongue. Then she frowned. "The only thing is, Dumbledore and the other Professors would have known that Black was an Animagus. Every Animagus is required by law to be registered."

"Well," Oliver sighed. "There's nothing we can do about it. Dumbledore will sort it out, I'm sure. We've got Quidditch to worry about."

"Let's hope they don't cancel it," Fiona added.

Audrey groaned. "Can we please stop talking about Quidditch? This is serious."

"We know, Audrey, but there's nothing we can do about it, so we're worrying about something we can do something about," Oliver said reasonably.

"And who says Quidditch isn't serious?" Fiona asked, mock-glaring at Audrey.

"Come on, it's late, and Percy's glowering at us again," Joe pointed out. "Let's try and get some sleep."

Audrey suddenly looked around them. "Somehow I don't think I'll be able to get much sleep while curled up in this corner."

The other three followed her gaze. Several members of Slytherin's seventh year had laid their sleeping bags next to the four of them. Flint looked up and saw them staring. "Hiya, darling," he said, grinning at Audrey.

The blonde shuddered, and shifted closer to Joe. "Please save me," she whispered.

Joe grinned, and Oliver laughed. "I don't think Margaret will be happy about that."

"I don't know, she's a girl, I think she would totally understand," Fiona disagreed. "Speaking of which, where is she?"

Joe pointed to another corner of the Great Hall, where Margaret's dark head could be seen bending over another girl. "She's sitting with her sister, Christine. She's just started Hogwarts, and is a little timid."

"Looks like you're all clear for a chivalrous rescue, then, Joe. Although, I think that Audrey harbours a secret lust for Flint," Fiona teased, a twinkle in her eyes.

Audrey just looked at her friend, aghast. "Please tell me you're joking." She glanced at Flint. He was the Slytherin closest to them. Audrey shivered. "I think I'm going to be sick."

They were interrupted by Percy shouting, "The lights are going out now! I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!" The candles all went out simultaneously, and the only light came from the ghosts, who were drifting about talking quietly to the Prefects, and the enchanted ceiling which showed the scattered stars of the outside sky.

"You'll be all right," Oliver whispered to Audrey, as he settled into his sleeping bag, his back against the stone wall.

"Yeah, you might not be the best student in our year, but I'm sure if he tries anything, you could hex him in the blink of an eye," Fiona added, drawing the purple bag up to her chin.

"Shove over, fatty," Joe said, pushing Fiona into Oliver. "Audrey wants to put some space between her and Flint."

"You expect me to move, now I'm in this thing?" Fiona asked incredulously.

"Here." Oliver, who had his arms outside the sleeping bag, grabbed a fold of Fiona's bag, and pulled her towards him.

She squealed as she skidded across the wooden floor. "Thanks," she said sarcastically. Fiona tried not to notice how close she now was to Oliver, and that his arm was somewhat around her.

"You're welcome," he answered, grinning at her.

"Okay, Joe, don't get all freaked out if I suddenly leap on you," Audrey warned him.

"I know you've been wanting to do that for years, Audrey, don't worry," Joe said, laughing.

Audrey gave him a shove. "Ha ha. I'll only leap onto you if I feel a hand on me."

Joe grinned. "All right. I'll protect you. Although, personally, I don't think that Flint will try anything. He knows that Oliver, Fiona, and I wouldn't need an excuse to curse him. Plus, he'll still be smarting from that chicken thing that Oliver and Fiona did to him."

Percy's face suddenly appeared out of the gloom, his glasses twinkling. "Will you lot shut up?" he hissed. "Some people are trying to get some sleep."

Joe turned over to say something to Fiona and Oliver, but they had fallen asleep, no doubt worn out from their antics in Hogsmeade. Oliver hadn't moved his hand, and it still rested near Fiona's hip, on top of the purple sleeping bag. Fiona had turned over in her sleep, and was somewhat facing Oliver. Joe grinned, and settled down close to Fiona, with Audrey curled up beside him, noticeably keeping her back towards Flint.

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, all four of them woke up early. Audrey glanced nervously over at Flint, who was fortunately still sleeping soundly. Fiona and Oliver decided to ignore that they had woken up curled around each other, and instead moaned about the fact that they had to go to lessons after the previous night's excitement.

"At least we have Professor Lupin first," Fiona said. "Maybe he can tell us something."

The four returned to the Tower post-haste, in an attempt to shower and get changed before it was time for breakfast. Upon reaching it, they discovered what had become of the portrait.

The Fat Lady had been replaced by one of Audrey's favourites, Sir Cadogan. The other three thought that the knight was funny, but didn't appreciate him being the portrait to which they had to give the password. For one, Sir Cadogan kept challenging anyone who tried to enter to a duel, and, as they would later discover, he was forever changing the password.

Unfortunately, no matter what they asked, Professor Lupin refused to tell them anything. He merely reassured them that Black was no longer in Hogwarts, and he was confident that he would be caught soon.

Audrey wanted to continue hypothesising about Black, but Oliver, Fiona, and Joe had other things on their minds. Their first Quidditch match was on Saturday. Three days before the match, Fiona and Oliver were down at the pitch, discussing tactics, when Marcus Flint found them.

"What do you want?" Oliver demanded.

Flint grinned horribly. "Just thought I'd let you know you aren't playing us, you're playing Hufflepuff. On account of our Seeker still being injured."

Oliver glared but there was nothing to be done. "You're nothing but a coward, Flint," he said, grinding his teeth.

Flint merely smiled and stepped out the door of the changing rooms. "He may be a coward," Fiona said, "but I don't blame him. I would leap at a chance to not play in this weather." She looked out the window. The rain was lashing down, and dark clouds were skidding across the sky.

Oliver grunted and tossed all his carefully noted strategies on the floor. He rested his head in his hands. "This is a disaster. We've been training to play against Slytherin, not Hufflepuff. And with Diggory as Seeker..." his voice trailed off.

Fiona frowned. "But I thought you weren't worried about Diggory."

"Of course I was, I just thought I'd have more time to prepare. To watch how he played and to determine how to beat him." Oliver looked distraught.

"Look, I'm sure it won't be that bad," Fiona said half-heartedly. "Potter will win the game for us, don't worry. You've got the best team at Hogwarts."

"Come on," Oliver said wearily. "Let's work on new tactics. You've got Hufflepuff to worry about yourself now."

"Yeah, I know," Fiona said dismally. "Peter Stebbins is a great Captain, and I hear he's got a new Seeker, a girl called Megan Jones."

They spent the next few hours devising new strategies, and then Fiona left, passing the First team on their way down to meet Oliver. "Good luck," she muttered to Alicia as she went by. She knew Oliver would have a go at them if they didn't take the news as seriously as he did.

For the next couple of days, Joe and Audrey found it hard to get a conversation out of either Oliver or Fiona. Both were forever pouring over Quidditch strategy books, and on the day before the match, Oliver took to running after Harry Potter, giving him advice.

"He's making the poor boy worse, harassing him all the time," Audrey commented once when she saw Oliver chasing Potter down a corridor. "I bet you aren't chasing Morna like that, are you, Fiona?"

"No, I cornered her yesterday afternoon," Fiona said. "She nearly bit my head off. I was only telling her to watch out for Jones, that she has a tendency to feint. Honestly."

Joe and Audrey rolled their eyes and said nothing.

The day of the matches dawned. The wind was howling, but everyone knew the matches wouldn't be called off.

Fiona joined Oliver as he and the rest of the First team trudged down to breakfast. No one was eating much.

"It's going to be a tough one," Oliver said gloomily.

"Stop worrying, Oliver," Alicia said soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain."

Fiona glanced up at the ceiling. It was certainly more than a bit of rain.

Joe and the rest of the Reserves met Fiona as she followed the Firsts out the Great Hall. They all looked grim. No one was looking forward to the impending match.

Fiona gathered her team by the changing rooms to watch the First's match. She always watched Oliver play from there. It meant less time was taken up with getting to the changing rooms once the match was finished. The wind was so strong that they ended up huddled against the wall.

Fiona could barely see Oliver and the other Gryffindor team members. As soon as the match started, all that could be seen of the players on the pitch was scarlet and yellow blurs.

After some time, she saw Oliver call a time-out, and someone rush out from the Gryffindor stands. Thunder rumbled and lightning threatened to fry the players. Soon, the players were back in the air, desperately clinging to their brooms.

Fiona was beginning to feel numb when she heard Oliver yell to Harry and saw the Gryffindor Seeker suddenly shoot forwards. Fiona felt a hand grip her arm and looked down to see Morna pointing up the pitch. Diggory, too, had clearly seen the Snitch, and was racing towards it.

Then something odd happened. A chill ran down Fiona's spine that had nothing to do with the rain, and she heard Morna gasp beside her. Squinting into the driving rain, Fiona could just see Potter tumbling off his broom to land heavily on the ground. Fiona would have sworn she heard a thud when he made contact.

Morna squeaked and Joe shouted, "Diggory's got the Snitch!"

Fiona felt her stomach drop. If Hufflepuff had beaten them, the odds were much greater on them once again losing to Slytherin.

"We must be able to have a rematch," Aidan Phillips, a Reserve Beater, said hopefully.

Fiona shook her head. "No, Hufflepuff won it fair and square," she said absently. She was watching the goings-on on the pitch with interest. Dumbledore was running onto the pitch, apparently having slowed Potter's fall. He shot a Patronus into the murk and Fiona realised with a jolt that at least a hundred Dementors were lurking by the side of the pitch. The Headmaster then conjured a stretcher. Soon, Potter was being floated up to the school, Dumbledore following.

Fiona and her teammates watched aghast as Diggory landed and walked towards Oliver. He was shaking his head. Madam Hooch joined the two captains and their teams, and soon a decision had clearly been made.

Oliver made his way gloomily towards the changing rooms, ignoring his teammates as they charged up the hill after Harry. He stopped briefly in front of Fiona to say in a quiet, deadened voice, "There's no rematch. Diggory wanted one, but they won, fair and square." He then walked off. The fact that he failed to wish her luck in her forthcoming match showed how shocked he was.

Fiona stared after him, wondering whether she should follow. Joe's voice brought her out of her debate. "Fiona, Professor McGonagall's coming this way." He needn't have added that she looked frightening; Fiona could see that for herself.

The Reserve team shrank away from Professor McGonagall as she approached them, leaving only Morna and Joe standing beside Fiona. "What's going on, Professor?" Fiona asked.

"Your match is cancelled, Wild," came the stern reply.

"What?" Fiona gasped. "You can't cancel it!"

"I most certainly can," Professor McGonagall snapped. "Even without the terrible accident, the weather is too bad for another match to be held today." She paused, and then continued in a softer voice, "The Reserve match has been rescheduled for tomorrow. I've already informed Stebbins and his team. I trust you'll take advantage of the extra time," she added, and turned away.

"Professor," Morna said, stepping forward, "what happened to Harry's broom?"

Professor McGonagall's face saddened. "I'm afraid it hit the Whomping Willow. Professor Flitwick is attempting to retrieve its remains." She looked over the team. "I suggest you make your way indoors, before you all catch hypothermia." Her tone brooked no argument, and the team turned to follow the Transfiguration Professor up the hill.

"Joe," Fiona said, stopping him. "I'm going to check on Oliver."

Joe nodded. "I'll find Audrey and let her know what's happening." Audrey, despite her complaints about Quidditch, always attended both Oliver and Fiona's matches. She was undoubtedly still huddled in the stands, waiting for the Reserve teams to make their appearance.

Fiona entered the changing rooms, expecting to see Oliver slumped on a seat. Instead, she came across a pile of Quidditch clothes, which surprised her. Oliver was always very careful with his uniform. He must have been worse than she thought.

She searched around, after having folded up his muddy uniform, and finally, over the noise of the torrential rain, heard a shower running. Fiona gingerly poked her head around the door of the shower room, her eyes tightly shut. Her imagination kept filling her head with visions of a naked Oliver, and eventually Fiona put a hand over her eyes to ensure she didn't peek.

"Oliver? It's me," she called.

"Fiona?" Oliver's voice was uncertain. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be playing?"

"My match's been postponed until tomorrow," she told him.

"Well, let's hope the weather's better for you," he responded. He sounded as though he was forcing the words out. "Merlin knows it'd do the House good for you to win."

"Oliver," Fiona began, but stopped when she heard the shower stop.

After a moment, Oliver called out, "You can come in now, if you want."

Fiona uncovered her eyes and entered the boys' shower room. She looked about her with interest, having never been in before. She didn't know what she was expecting, but whatever it was, she was disappointed. It looked exactly the same as the girls' shower room, with one notable exception. It was this exception that Fiona was now doing her best not to stare at.

Oliver was standing in the middle of the room, drying his hair slowly and dispassionately with a red towel. A similar towel was wrapped around his hips. That was all he was wearing.

Fiona swallowed and sat down. She had discovered that her knees had gone incredibly weak. Oliver, wallowing in moroseness, hadn't seemed to notice her reaction.

"Oliver," Fiona managed to get out, "it wasn't your fault. It was nobody's fault." As she spoke, the words came out easier. "It's just one of those things. As Quidditch Captain, you have to overcome it and face the challenge of the Cup head-on."

"Aren't I allowed to mope at all?" Oliver asked ruefully, hanging up the towel he'd used to dry his hair. "I feel I deserve that," he added, running a hand through his already mussed-up hair.

Fiona was having difficulty thinking coherently whilst being faced by a wet, almost naked, Oliver. She looked away from his hair, which made her want to run her hands through it, to become immediately absorbed in watching the path of a water drop as it made it's way down Oliver's tanned chest. "Umm, of course you do," Fiona said finally, having only a vague idea of what she was agreeing with.

Oliver suddenly seemed to realise the situation they were in. He swore. "If anyone finds us in here like this, we're done for. And look at the state of you. You need a shower."

Fiona tore her gaze away from Oliver and looked down. She did, indeed, need a shower. She was wet from head to toe, and covered in mud. "I hadn't even noticed." The import of what Oliver had said finally lodged itself into her brain. "So," she said, smiling wickedly, "are you saying that I should have a shower?"

Oliver nodded. "You might as well have one in here. The place is already warm."

Fiona's eyebrows rose. "You want me to have a shower in here, now? You do realise, Oliver, that that would involve taking my clothes off? And certainly wouldn't improve the situation if anyone found us." Fiona drew on all her years of training from her Grandma to school her face into impassiveness to refrain from blushing. She had a feeling that the tips of her ears were red, but fortunately her hair hung over them.

Oliver looked blank for a moment, and then his eyes widened in realisation. He blushed and stammered, "No, that's not what I meant. You stay in here while I go out and get changed." He dashed out so rapidly that his towel was in danger of slipping. Fiona caught herself wishing it did, so that she could see whether his posterior lived up to the imaginary one she had in her head.

"Here," Oliver shouted and the offending towel flew through the door and nearly hit Fiona in the face. "I don't think there are any others free. You'll have to use mine."

"Thanks," Fiona called. She certainly didn't mind using Oliver's towel. She quickly stripped and stepped under the warm water, letting it take away the numbness of her extremities.

Oliver dressed himself quickly, desperately trying not to think about what Fiona had suggested just before he fled. Oliver thought he had imagined Fiona looking him over, but he had to admit to himself that it wasn't likely to be him she was thinking about. After all, she was a seventeen year old girl who had been faced with a nearly naked, fit Quidditch player. Oliver was fairly sure any girl would get that look in her eyes that he'd seen in Fiona's.

I had better get back to thinking about Quidditch, Oliver thought to himself. I stand more chance of winning the Cup this year than winning Fiona. He had put his jeans on, with great difficulty, as they were soaked from his journey down from the castle, and was searching for his Quidditch uniform. He found it, neatly folded, on a bench. Oliver frowned at it, convinced that he had left them in a pile on the floor. He shook his head, thinking that he was losing his mind. The board where he and Fiona had worked out Quidditch tactics caught his eye, and he walked over to it.

He was still staring at it when Fiona emerged from the shower. Oliver turned to see her standing by the door, one red towel wrapped around her head, and the other around her body. Oliver goggled. The towel was small, barely reaching her mid-thigh, and, although Oliver knew that he had seen her in less, it made her seem somehow more feminine. Oliver couldn't quite understand how a towel could do things to his legs, and other parts of his body, that a bikini couldn't, but he supposed it had something to do with the fact that with just one tug, the towel would be off. Suddenly, Oliver's wet jeans seemed much more uncomfortable than they already were.

"I'll have to stay here until my clothes dry a bit," Fiona said, holding up a pair of dripping jeans. "I'm surprised you're wearing yours."

Oliver ran his hands through his hair, trying to resist the urge to leap across the room and pin Fiona against a wall. "I didn't have anything else to put on," he pointed out finally.

Fiona blushed. "I suppose you're right." She nodded at the board. "Still thinking about today?"

Oliver felt himself deflate as though someone had pricked him with a pin. "Yeah. Granger did a neat trick with Harry's glasses so he could see, and he was after the Snitch - we were going to win, Fiona - and then those bloody Dementors came along." His face furrowed into a frown. "I don't understand, though. The Dementors didn't affect the rest of us like they did Harry. The rest of us didn't go falling off our brooms, did we? Diggory didn't, he got the Snitch!" Oliver's voice was raised, and his face was flushed. His eyes were dark with anger.

"Oliver!" Fiona said sharply. "Stop it. It's nobody's fault, all right? Harry can't help how the Dementors affect him. We all know he's special, Merlin knows what happened to him when those things came close."

Oliver's face softened. "You're right, as usual. Harry's a brilliant flier, he wouldn't fall off unless he couldn't help it."

Fiona took the towel off her head and began to dry her hair. She had draped her wet clothes beside the rest of Oliver's on the benches, which in the winter were heated. She had thus far managed to avoid looking at Oliver's flat chest and perfectly defined abs. She had no need to; the image was burned on the inside of her eyelids. In his jeans, now tighter because they were wet, and nothing else, Oliver looked like some statue, carved out of wood and polished lovingly.

Joe and Audrey entered the changing rooms to see Fiona slowly drying her hair, wearing only a towel, and Oliver, also scantily-clad, staring gloomily at the strategy board. They exchanged glances with one another, and then Joe cleared his throat. "We brought you dry clothes," he explained, holding up a bag.

"Oliver, what are you doing wearing those wet jeans?" Audrey demanded, handing Fiona a bag. "You'll get ill."

"There were only two towels," he answered tersely, and, grabbing the bag Joe held out, disappeared into the shower room.

"He's in a bad mood," Fiona explained, shrugging.

"Please don't do that," Joe protested, holding his hands up to his eyes. "I don't see how he can be in a bad mood if you've been doing that whilst wearing that flannel."

"Flannel?" Fiona looked confused. "What the hell are you talking about, Joe?"

"He means the towel, which I think is perfectly respectable, by the way, and the shrugging," Audrey explained. "I can understand what Joe's talking about with the shrugging, though."

Realisation spread across Fiona's face. "Oh. Well, he's still preoccupied with the Quidditch. Speaking of which, Joe, are you cold? I don't want you getting ill. It's even more imperative we win now."

Oliver returned then, before Joe could say if he was cold or not. Fiona took her bag and changed quickly, all thoughts of Oliver now overtaken by Quidditch. Well, almost all thoughts.

~*~*~*~*~

The next day dawned much clearer. The howling winds had blown away most of the clouds. Fiona sat silent in breakfast, beside a moody Oliver, who looked as though he had had no sleep. Joe didn't look much better, and it transpired that he'd been kept awake half the night by Oliver tossing and turning in the bed next to him.

If anything, Fiona was more nervous than she had ever been as she stood in front of her team. She surveyed them. All of them, bar Morna, had several games under their belts, and she wasn't worried about that. She was worried that the nerves that gnawed at her stomach were affecting them.

"Right lads and lasses," Fiona finally said, trying to force cheer into her voice. She thought she sounded as though she was going to be sick. "Today's the big day. Our first match of the season. And after yesterday's disaster, we have to give Gryffindor something to cheer about. Remember what I've told you." She grabbed her broom and strode out onto the pitch.

The wind was still blowing, and there were clouds on the horizon, but thankfully overhead the sky was clear. Madam Hooch called, "Captains, shake hands."

Fiona walked up to Stebbins, who smiled sympathetically at her. She gave the tiniest smile back, and nodded slightly. The order to mount their brooms was given and soon they were sailing away from the muddy pitch.

As it happened, despite having not practised in such strong winds, Gryffindor won easily. Fiona had to make only one save, and Joe, Mary, and Patricia each had a hat trick of goals. Morna ignored the feints of Megan Jones, which got more and more desperate, and skilfully caught the Snitch as it hovered over Stebbins's head.

The team squelched down to the ground, pleased smiles on their faces. "Fantastic game, you lot," Fiona said, smiling a genuine smile. "I don't even have any criticism."

They all laughed and made their way up to the castle. Audrey and Oliver left the small crowd of onlookers, mainly family and friends of the Reserve team players, and joined Fiona and Joe. Audrey was smiling, but Oliver looked thoroughly miserable.

When Joe asked what was wrong, Oliver answered, "We should have played like that. I couldn't find fault with it."

Audrey opened her mouth, but Fiona waved her to be quiet. She knew it was best to leave Oliver in this mood. "Are you going to see Harry?" she asked instead. "He'll be feeling terribly guilty. Plus, he's lost his Nimbus."

Oliver's face dropped more. "Yeah, I'm going to see him with the rest of the team now. Guess I'd better go. There are the twins." He ran off towards them slowly. Then he stopped and turned. "Well done, by the way, Fiona. You were brilliant." He smiled an authentic smile before turning away.

Fiona blushed slightly, and sighed. "He'll get over it eventually," she said.

"Yeah, when he can start obsessing about the next match," Joe said, snorting.

"He'll be at the calculator, trying to figure out who'll have to win, and by what margin out of all the other matches," Audrey added, forgetting for a moment that she was the only one who was Muggle-born.

"Calculator?" Joe asked, confused.

"Oh, it's a Muggle device used to work out sums," Audrey explained. "I'm sure Oliver'd be at one if he had one," she continued.

"Don't have to. It's not hard at all. If Hufflepuff lose to Ravenclaw, and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin, then it'll be all right," Fiona said absently. "Of course, Hufflepuff will have to lose by two hundred points or more," she added. "It all depends. We're still in the running, though."

Audrey threw her arms up in the air. "I give up. You're totally obsessed!"

~*~*~*~*~

Monday morning came, and Oliver was still miserable. Fiona, Joe, and Audrey had given up trying to cheer him up. They knew he would eventually come out of the doldrums, and start harassing his team with more bad weather practises.

"I hope you're not going to take a leaf out of his book," Joe said, as they made their way down to the Great Hall.

"Me?" Fiona asked, in mock horror. "Would I do something like that?" She grinned at the look of surety on Joe's face. "No, don't worry, we don't have to practise that much. To be honest, the First team probably don't either, but Oliver won't realise that."

"It's true," Audrey said. "They just have terrible bad luck."

The three joined Oliver at the table, who was looking as glum as ever. They were halfway through breakfast when the post arrived. Audrey looked up. "Hey, look, it's an eagle of some sort." She pointed and several Gryffindors nearby stared as a huge eagle soared in with the owls.

Fiona's eyes widened apprehensively as she watched the familiar-looking eagle swoop down and fly over the heads of the Gryffindors. One wingtip touched Morna's head, and then the eagle settled gracefully on the table in front of Fiona. "Hello, Aquila," she said gently, as she stroked the eagle's dark brown feathers.

"What is it?" Audrey breathed as she gazed at it, awestruck.

"He's a Spanish Imperial Eagle," Fiona explained. "You can tell because of the extra pale feathers on his shoulders."

"But who does he belong to?" Oliver asked. Even he was brought out of his depression by the arrival of the magnificent creature.

"My grandmother," Fiona said shortly. "What do you want, Aquila?"

The eagle responded by holding out his right leg, and Fiona noticed a small package attached to it. "Thank you, darlin'," she said, carefully undoing the parcel. The eagle grabbed a sausage from Fiona's plate as she read the letter.

"What's it say?" Audrey asked, as Fiona's face went blank.

Fiona started, and looked up. "Oh, not much, just apologising for my present being late, and she hopes I like it." More like, I had better like it, otherwise I'm in trouble, she added to herself.

"So, what's the present?" Joe inquired.

"This." Fiona held up a silver ring. It was a snake, it's tail wrapped around its body, and its one visible eye glittering green with an emerald.

"Wow, that's pretty impressive," Audrey breathed.

"Very Slytherin-like," Oliver added, unhappily.

"Well, it is from my Grandma," Fiona said, not saying any more, merely staring down at the silver ring in her hand.

"Are you going to wear it?" Joe asked, watching Fiona carefully.

Fiona hesitated, but eventually slid it onto the middle finger of her left hand. "I have to." She looked around the Great Hall, and caught the eye of Draco Malfoy. Only she noticed the imperceptible nod he gave her.

"Well," Audrey said chirpily, "I guess it's time we went to Defence Against the Dark Arts." She got up.

"Are you coming, Fiona?" Oliver asked.

"What?" Fiona looked up from the ring. "Oh, yeah, sorry." She grabbed her bag and was about to leave the table when there was a loud bark. She turned back to see the Spanish Imperial Eagle standing on the table, looking somewhat put-out.

"Hmm, I'm guessing you don't want to go up to the Owlery. And, obviously you don't want to go home yet. All right, you can come, although I don't know what Professor Lupin is going to say." Fiona knelt down beside the table, and Aquila shuffled along onto her shoulder. The eagle towered over her, and she walked slowly behind her friends. "You had better appreciate this, Aquila, you realise how heavy you are," Fiona muttered to him. All she got in return was a friendly nibble on the ear.

"He's beautiful," Audrey murmured. Any animal fascinated her, although she tended to be more interested in magical animals than normal ones.

"He's a sweetie, I suppose," Fiona acquiesced. "Grandma doesn't use him much, which is why he wants to stay. Likes the change in scenery, I guess."

Oliver was ignoring them. Fiona knew he didn't particularly approve of her Grandma and her traditions, but before, it hadn't seemed to matter so much. This year, however, she was seventeen, and Fiona knew Oliver realised what receiving the ring meant. Joe, too, knew, probably even better than Oliver, whereas Audrey, being a Muggle-born, didn't have a clue. Which is why she asked, "What's up with Oliver? It's not just about Quidditch, is it?"

Fiona shook her head gently, taking care not to dislodge Aquila. "It's this ring. It means that I'm now officially my Grandma's heir."

Audrey frowned in confusion. "I don't get it. Which Grandma are we talking about?"

Fiona laughed hollowly. "The only one that counts. My mother's mother."

"You mean, a Morgan?" Audrey asked, her eyes wide. "Cool."

Fiona smiled, and shook her head. Her friends couldn't quite understand the significance of receiving the ring. It meant that her life would no longer be as simple as it had been, for she was now the official heir to one of the wizarding world's richest and most powerful families. "Well, it's not going to stop me winning the Cup for Gryffindor," she said finally, grinning. "Come on, let's introduce Aquila to everyone. He'll love the attention."

They arrived at the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom early, and soon the rest of their classmates were crowding round Fiona, all gently stroking the eagle's feathers. The only people who noticeably hung back were Oliver and Percy.

"You're going to have to talk to him, you know," Joe said softly to Fiona just before Professor Lupin walked in.

"I know, but there's not much I can say. All I can do is try and convince him I'm not going to betray all of Gryffindor and suddenly become a Slytherin," Fiona said, sighing.

"I don't think he's worried about all of Gryffindor," Joe added quietly.

"It's not him that should be worrying!" Fiona said fiercely. "Fair enough, Grandma doesn't know that I'm friends with a Wood and, more importantly, a Muggle-born, but if she finds out, I'm the one who's going to get into trouble."

"How can she not know you're friends with Oliver?" Joe asked, surprised.

"Well, she knows that I'm friends with him, she just doesn't know how friendly we are. Whenever she asks about boyfriends, I'm afraid I always mention you," Fiona said, grimacing slightly. "I don't want her trying to set me up with someone!"

"I suppose she doesn't mind that so much, given my family's background," Joe said thoughtfully.

"Just be thankful she's never wanted to meet you," Fiona added, laughing. "I think you might be out of your depth."

"Yeah, probably." He looked past Fiona and Audrey to where Oliver was sitting. "So, you're going to reassure him, right?" Joe asked quietly. "The last thing he needs at the moment is to think you're not going to be talking to him any more."

"Yes, I'll talk to him, don't worry, Joe. Right now, I have to worry about what I'm going to do with this great feathery lump while Lupin's teaching." Aquila barked in annoyance, but hopped onto the back of her chair. Professor Lupin did not comment on the unusual addition to the classroom, and fortunately, Aquila made no noise, merely gazing round the room with his dark eyes.

Fiona sent the eagle away later in the day, with a thank you note penned in her best hand. She added that Aquila's arrival had caused quite a stir amongst the students, as she knew that was what her Grandma had intended.

She was quiet for the rest of the day, constantly fingering the ring on her finger, and trying to catch Oliver's eye. Fiona knew that she had to approach Oliver to discuss this new development, but he didn't seem to be approachable. She eventually gave up on him for the day, and instead concentrated on doing her homework, ignoring the hubbub of the Gryffindor Common Room.

Going to bed that night was a trail, as Audrey was full of questions that Fiona had either no intention of answering or actually couldn't answer. Finally, Audrey got the idea, and left Fiona alone with her thoughts of castles and secrets.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Well, that was an interesting chapter to write. I hope it was just as interesting to read! What's the real deal with Fiona's ring, and why is Oliver so upset? And what's this about Joe's family background? Will we see more "unrequited" lust from both Oliver and Fiona? (I'll see if I can get more shirtless Oliver for you!) Some of the answers will be in the next chapter. (I hope, unless some other plot bunny hops into my head!)

As for Aquila, as Fiona says, he's a Spanish Imperial Eagle, which are really rare. Keep an eye out in the Photo section of the Yahoo Group, as I'm trying to get pictures of all the animals mentioned in Wood & Wild and its sequels.