H/C: Nachsitzen
Sep. 19th, 2019 11:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
der_jemand posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
120_minutenTeam: Schwarz
Challenge: H/C: Nachsitzen [fürs Team]
Fandom: Harry Potter
Charaktere: Oliver Wood, Charlie Weasley
Wörter: 564
A/N: Hurt, ja. Comfort, vielleicht. Nachsitzen in der Zukunft.
Oliver Wood hat sich mit einem Mitschüler angelegt. Charlie is not amused.
Wäre es besser, wäre es für![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nyx_chan, die die beiden für die Challenge vorgeschlagen hat.
"Do I want to know?"
The voice making its way through the hazy fog in Oliver's head was deeper than Madam Pomfrey's but just as stern. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, concern or anger, but calm contempt hadn't even crossed his mind. So he just shook his head.
"That's what I thought." A heavy sigh and Oliver pressed his eyes shut just so that he didn't have to see the look of disappointment going along with it. He had already dealt with a stern talking to from Madam Pomfrey and a vicious reprimand from Professor McGonagall including the promise that he would spent the rest of the year in detention. -- There was no way he wouldn't break down crying when Weasley, his team captain, the guy who'd taken a chance on the overeager second year, also told him off.
Weasley’s voice was cold but not exactly unkind. "Tell me anyway."
Oliver shook his head again, almost violently, and immediately felt sick. Whether that was from the concussion or the panic, he couldn't say.
"Wood, you got into a fight with another student that got both of you into the hospital wing. You could've died. You could've killed Flint."
"That wasn't--!" Oliver turned around, finally looking at his team captain. He would have never--"I wouldn't! He hexed me, I had a cushioning spell ready!" He might have tackled the shit-talking Slytherin mid-air, sure, but he wasn't stupid!
"A cushioning spell that helped neither you, nor him", Weasley pointed out. "Merlin's pants, Wood, that was incredibly stupid!"
"But--" Weasley’s glare didn't allow protest and Oliver felt himself dissolve into the soft pillows of his sick bed. "Are you throwing me off the team? I have detention until Christmas already, so I won't be good for anything either way…"
"That depends entirely on why you did it."
Oliver shook his head vehemently. "I can't tell you. That's… He said… things."
"Oh, things. I understand." Weasley carded a hand through his shaggy red hair and sighed. “Wood, they’ll always say things about you, you have to be better than that.”
Oliver blinked. “But it wasn’t about me, it was about you!” he exclaimed before he could remind himself why he really shouldn’t. “I mean-- Not that...”
“What did he say?”
“I can’t tell you.”
That earned him a chuckle. “You almost killed Marcus Flint to defend my honour but I can’t know what it was about?”
Oliver closed his eyes again. That did sound weird.
“Was it about me snogging dudes? Or sucking cock or whatever?”
“Maybe?” Oliver’s face was burning. That was a string of words he really hadn’t needed to hear in Charlie Weasley’s slow drawl… Really. He swallowed.
With a groan, Weasley leaned back in his chair. “That’s really not something that warrants attempted murder. One, because it’s not even an insult and, two, because it’s true. Also, I can fight my own battles, thank you very much.”
“But I--”
“You need to shut up and rest. Don’t think for a second that something like detention will get you out of morning practice!”
Oliver could hardly believe what he heard. “I’m still on the team?!”
“For now. -- I the future, I expect better of you. Next time you throw yourself off a broom, better make sure you have the cushion spell cast already.”
Challenge: H/C: Nachsitzen [fürs Team]
Fandom: Harry Potter
Charaktere: Oliver Wood, Charlie Weasley
Wörter: 564
A/N: Hurt, ja. Comfort, vielleicht. Nachsitzen in der Zukunft.
Oliver Wood hat sich mit einem Mitschüler angelegt. Charlie is not amused.
Wäre es besser, wäre es für
nyx_chan, die die beiden für die Challenge vorgeschlagen hat."Do I want to know?"
The voice making its way through the hazy fog in Oliver's head was deeper than Madam Pomfrey's but just as stern. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, concern or anger, but calm contempt hadn't even crossed his mind. So he just shook his head.
"That's what I thought." A heavy sigh and Oliver pressed his eyes shut just so that he didn't have to see the look of disappointment going along with it. He had already dealt with a stern talking to from Madam Pomfrey and a vicious reprimand from Professor McGonagall including the promise that he would spent the rest of the year in detention. -- There was no way he wouldn't break down crying when Weasley, his team captain, the guy who'd taken a chance on the overeager second year, also told him off.
Weasley’s voice was cold but not exactly unkind. "Tell me anyway."
Oliver shook his head again, almost violently, and immediately felt sick. Whether that was from the concussion or the panic, he couldn't say.
"Wood, you got into a fight with another student that got both of you into the hospital wing. You could've died. You could've killed Flint."
"That wasn't--!" Oliver turned around, finally looking at his team captain. He would have never--"I wouldn't! He hexed me, I had a cushioning spell ready!" He might have tackled the shit-talking Slytherin mid-air, sure, but he wasn't stupid!
"A cushioning spell that helped neither you, nor him", Weasley pointed out. "Merlin's pants, Wood, that was incredibly stupid!"
"But--" Weasley’s glare didn't allow protest and Oliver felt himself dissolve into the soft pillows of his sick bed. "Are you throwing me off the team? I have detention until Christmas already, so I won't be good for anything either way…"
"That depends entirely on why you did it."
Oliver shook his head vehemently. "I can't tell you. That's… He said… things."
"Oh, things. I understand." Weasley carded a hand through his shaggy red hair and sighed. “Wood, they’ll always say things about you, you have to be better than that.”
Oliver blinked. “But it wasn’t about me, it was about you!” he exclaimed before he could remind himself why he really shouldn’t. “I mean-- Not that...”
“What did he say?”
“I can’t tell you.”
That earned him a chuckle. “You almost killed Marcus Flint to defend my honour but I can’t know what it was about?”
Oliver closed his eyes again. That did sound weird.
“Was it about me snogging dudes? Or sucking cock or whatever?”
“Maybe?” Oliver’s face was burning. That was a string of words he really hadn’t needed to hear in Charlie Weasley’s slow drawl… Really. He swallowed.
With a groan, Weasley leaned back in his chair. “That’s really not something that warrants attempted murder. One, because it’s not even an insult and, two, because it’s true. Also, I can fight my own battles, thank you very much.”
“But I--”
“You need to shut up and rest. Don’t think for a second that something like detention will get you out of morning practice!”
Oliver could hardly believe what he heard. “I’m still on the team?!”
“For now. -- I the future, I expect better of you. Next time you throw yourself off a broom, better make sure you have the cushion spell cast already.”
no subject
Date: 2019-10-17 10:13 am (UTC)"Next time you throw yourself off a broom, better make sure you have the cushion spell cast already." <3
Gott, ich könnte dir den ganzen Dialog zurückzitieren, sie sind so adorable! Und ich mag, wie matter-of-fact Charlie die ganze Sache abhandelt. Ich vergesse immer, dass Oliver ja doch um einiges jünger ist als Charlie... Und das Ganze hat Potential für jahrelange Angst, bis Oliver sich eingesteht, dass er auf Charlie steht.
Danke auf jeden Fall hierfür. <3