The Rain Does Funny Things:
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, if I did, I sure as Hell wouldn't be writing this here. But I do own Oliver…In my dreams, that is.
Summery: Oliver recounts the first game of his last Quidditch season. OWHG. One-shot
Note from the lovely authoress: I don't mind flames! Send them in! I need a laugh!
A man was sitting with his four-year-old son. He was telling his son about one incident in his days of playing Quidditch at Hogwarts. He was now the Keeper for the English National Quidditch team, but that's irrelevant. "It was the first Quidditch match of the season. My last season. In a nasty bit of craftiness by the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, asshole extraordinaire-"
"Oliver!" his wife said angrily, "don't use that language in front of Iphis!" The boy was named Iphis after someone who had discovered a certain theory in Arithmancy, which his wife was rather fond of.He remembered her saying, 'We are not naming him after a Quidditch player!' when he suggested they name him Phineus, who, according to Quidditch Through the Ages, had invented the fantastic sport.
"Sorry Hun. Anyway, Flint was able to postpone the Gryffindor/ Slytherin game. So instead we had to play Hufflepuff. They had a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory, so they were going to be a formidable match." His wife smiled and sat down with her two favorite men, she remembered that day perfectly.
"It was raining horribly, when the game started, both teams were sopping wet. After scoring only seventy points in first hour-and-a-half, I decided to call a time out.
" 'I called for a time out! Come on, under here-' I told my team. They crowded under a large, black umbrella. Harry removed his glasses and began wiping them on his robes, which had no effect because they were so wet.
" 'What's the score?' he had asked me.
" 'We're fifty points up, but unless we get the Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night.' I told him.
"Harry sighed heavily. 'I've got no chance with these!' he said waving his glasses angrily." The little boy stared intently up at his father. Though he had head this story many times, it was every bit as interesting each time his father told it.
"Next I saw someone run up to Harry. I recognized her as Hermione Granger, Harry's exceedingly intelligent friend who frequently watched us practice with Fred and George's little brother, Ron. She was beaming from ear to ear. 'I've had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!' she said excitedly.
"Harry handed her his glasses, she did a charm- imperius- and handed them back. 'There!' she said happily, 'they'll repel water!'
" 'Brilliant!' I said hoarsely, hugging her and giving her a kiss. When I looked at her, I saw that the front of her was muddied from me hugging her."
"Yea, it took forever to get that out of my robes! And my shirt was permanently stained!" his wife said, smiling as she remembered their first kiss.
The man gave his wife a puckish grin as he finished recounting his story. He remembered the excuse he had used as to why he had kissed the little Granger girl: the rain. 'The rain does funny things,' he had said.
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