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booksmarts and broomsticks
act iii , turning tables
chapter forty-eight , firebolts and frostbite

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➖DRIA LOCKABY➖
february 1994

"SO IF I GET ALITA TO take this wing ..."

Dria blinked hard in effort to keep herself focused on the words Oliver was saying as he excitedly looked between her and the scribblings on the piece of parchment in his hands, which detailed — what the blonde estimated to be — around thirty separate Quidditch plays.

"Weasleys can target Davies, whether they admit it or not, their Chasers are not as good as ours and if we take out Davies, then Stretton and Burrow will be helpless." The Keeper went on, his elbows resting upon the table they sat at, in the corner of the common room. "Now Chang, she's tricky—"

"Oliver." Dria cut him off. "Please put the parchment down."

The pair has originally settled themselves at the table with the intention of revising for their Trasnfiguration exam, the following week, however after an hour of convincing themselves they were confident in casting the Vanishing Charm, both Gryffindors had descended into their independent ventures — one reading through a seemingly never-ending document on the Graduate Healer Scheme offered by St Mungo's, and the other obsessing over Quidditch plays.

"I'm fine." Oliver objected, always the hazy look in his eyes as they adjusted from the parchment to the dim light of the common room.

"You've torn through the parchment." The blonde pressed her lip together in a worried expression as she regarded the small holes in the parchment where the Quidditch Captain had scribbled so harshly that the quill had severed through.

"Look, I know you think I'm a nutter—"

"Uh-huh."

"But if I don't work out a new strategy ahead of Saturday, Ravenclaw will crush us just like they did Hufflepuff last term and I won't win the cup."

Dria gave another gentle sigh, and spared him a knowing look.

"Remember how we had that talk about the whole team mentality thing?"

"McGonagall's still got the Firebolt, so I'm having to account for Harry playing on a Cleansweep—" Oliver rambled on, but suddenly stopping and sinking back in his seat. "I feel sick."

The blonde offered him no more than a sympathetic pat on the head before turning her attention back to the document in her hands.

The first three weeks of their winter term had past in a blur of revision for, and taking of, their mock exams as well as Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin during which Slytherin had only very narrowly won, leaving the Gryffindor Captain overly anxious ahead Gryffindor's impending match against the eagles that weekend.

Even more so, with the consideration that his previous excitement over Harry's new acquisition of the Firebolt had been completely misplaced, in that it had been confiscated by McGonagall.

Dria had never seen him be so quick to his feet. Harry had barely even explained the situation before Oliver had arisen to his feet and was all but sprinting out of the common room, telling Harry he'd sort it.

After around fifteen minutes, he had returned to the common room, looking a great deal less excited than he had been when he'd left as he shot Dria, Tess, Heidi and the rest of his team awkward smiles.

"Bad news, guys. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the brooms and — er — she got a bit shirty with me."

     The Keeper had informed them as he stepped around his team, to settle himself on the sofa between Dria and Heidi.

      "Told me I had gotten my priorities wrong. Seemed to think that I cared more about winning the cup than I do about Harry staying alive." His attention turned to Harry, as he let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Just because I told her that I didn't care if it threw you off just as long as he caught the snitch on it first."

Harry had looked back at him with a speechless expression that was mirrored by the res of their company.

"Honestly, the way she screamed at me you would've thought I'd said something terrible—ow!"

He had been cut off by both Heidi and Dria elbowed him from either side, shooting him scolding looks as he looked perfectly gormless at their reaction.

"Hang on."

Dria tore her gaze once more from the document, turning to face the Keeper with a tired expression, leaning her head on her hand as she did.

"Didn't Penny say that Inglebee got hit in the head with a Quaffle during their practice a couple of days ago?" Oliver asked, his gaze staring ahead of him as his brain clearly started forming an idea.

"Been there." The blonde scoffed, before faltering slightly. "Since when do you and Penny talk?"

"If it's a bad enough injury, his hand-eye could be off." Oliver thumped the table in excitement, finally bringing his gaze back to the girl. "Wait, weren't you on duty?"

"Vix was on on Tuesday." Dria informed him, causing him to divert his attention towards the fireplace where Vixen was sat with Alita and Percy, laughing over something or other.

"Oi, Vix!"

"What?"

"Did Inglebee get a concussion on Tuesday?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Okay, so on a scale of 1-10—ow!"

Dria immediately rose up in alert, discarding her document as she shoved Oliver harshly in the side.

"Oh my God, that's enough." She told him, sharply, before waving across the common room in apology to the Heron girl. "Sorry, Vix!"

Oliver gave a defeated huff, slumping back in his seat once more.

"Please take a break, you're disrupting the peace." The blonde all but begged him.

"They flattened Hufflepuff."

"Please don't bring that up again." Dria winced.

In consequence of her loss of the Quidditch match the term before, Jackie had been all but inconsolable, refusing to talk to Penny for three days and employing Dria to go running with her for nearly a week after, she'd also been written up at Osh's for deliberately refusing Ravenclaws service.

In summary, Jackie O'Hare was not a good loser.

Oliver gave another defeated sigh.

"Am I really a Gryffindor if I don't win or die trying?"

"Oliver, that is not a good tagline for Gryffindor."

The Keeper looked at the blonde and cocked his head, pursing his lips in thought.

"What would you do?"

Dria faltered for a moment, before letting out a scoff.

"Merlin, you are desperate."

"No, I mean it. You were nearly Ravenclaw." Oliver shuffled in his seat, giving the girl his full attention as she shook her head in response.

"No, I wasn't."

"You were a hatstall."

"No, I wasn't."

"Fine, you were a minute off."

Dria grimaced at the memory of being sat at the front of the Great Hall for what felt like an eternity during her sorting, while the sorting hat argued with itself over putting her in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

"It was traumatising."

"Still, you've got big brains, you know how they think." Oliver attempted to reason, shuffling closer to her and resting his head on her shoulder. "Please. My tiny little brain's going to explode."

Dria gave a defeated sigh, shrugging the boy off as she grabbed for the parchment he'd been scribbling on.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." The boy gushed excitedly, pressing a light kiss to her hair as she swatted him away with a small smile on her face.

Her blue eyes screwed up in concentration as she looked over the messy parchment, trying to make sense of his scribbles and abbreviations, her face contorting in confusion as she read through one play.

"Why have you got both Weasleys on defence?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said Ravenclaw's Beaters don't play offence very often, so there's no point on having both the twins on defence. Surely it easier to have one on offence and one on defence?" The words came flying out before Dria could comprehend them, laying down the parchment in front of her with a sad groan. "What has happened to me?"

Oliver picked up the parchment, narrowing his eyes.

"That's actually not a bad call." He muttered, picking up his quill and recommencing his scribbling.

"You're the one who asked for my help."

"Do you want to come to practice tomorrow?" Oliver cocked his head with a knowing smirk, at which the blonde immediately let out a groan.

"Ol—"

"Please." He nudged her shoulder. "You can be my logistics man."

"I've got to get my application in." She nodded towards the documents on the table from where she sat slumped against the back of her seat.

"It's not for long!" The Captain persisted, his smirk never fading. "Plus I need the moral support."

"I don't like Quidditch." She grumbled.

"I'm not sure I believe that anymore, I think I'm converting you."

"Hmm." The ghost of a small smile threatening to spread across her face.

"Come?"

Dria gave a light chuckle, straightening up and fixing her gaze back on her work.

"I'll think about it." She spared him a small smile, however she found his focus had wandered once more, and the boy was looking awestruck, looking off in the direction of the Portrait Hole. "What?"

"It's back!"

Following his gaze, Dria spotted Harry and Ron walking across the common room, the former notably holding a very sleek-looking broomstick in hand.

"Is that it?" The blonde chuckled, as the pair strode over, their attention fixing on the girl who sat studying at the table between Dria and Oliver.

"See, Hermione, we told you there wasn't anything wrong with it?" Ron called, as Harry held up the Firebolt in victory, while the Granger girl gave a small huff of discontent.

"Well, there could have been!"

Dria sensed Oliver rise up from his seat, letting out a gleeful laugh and he made his way towards the boys.

"This changes everything!"

The blonde let out a defeated sigh, sparing a brief look at Hermione who was still surveying the pair with an unimpressed look.

"Remind me to get him tested."

***

"YOU'RE DOING GREAT!"

Dria was trying her best to maintain the smile of her face, clapping her cold hands together in applause as she cheered on Oliver and the Gryffindor team at their practice — despite them being so high up in the air, she doubted they could even hear her.

"Jackie, help." She sighed, shaking off a shiver as she sank back down on the bench and turned her attention the girl by her side, who was intently watching the practice. "He is doing great, right?"

"Dria, it's not hard." The Hufflepuff groaned, her focus not moving from the players on the pitch. "If he keeps them from scoring, good. If he doesn't, bad. Don't make me regret coming here with you."

"I didn't actually ask you—"

"So you want to be here alone?"

"Don't you dare leave."

"Thought so."

Jackie let out a cackle, giving her friend a light shove just as they caught sight of Alita zooming down the pitch in possession of the Quaffle and throwing expertly through the lower hoop whilst Oliver dodged a Bludger.

"Nice shot, Byrnes!"

Dria let out a loud whoop as the duo clapped in celebration at Alita's score.

"I'm a little surprised, you're being so encouraging especially to a rival team." The blonde hummed, raising an eyebrow at her friends

"You really think so little of me?"

"Well, excuse me if you don't have a great track record of doing the noble thing."

Jackie gave a light tsk before heaving a small sigh, and leaning back on the bench

"Yeah, you caught me out." She turned on the blonde girl. "Truth is, Dria, I've given up."

"What?"

"Our chances of winning the Cup are shot so I've decided to switch allegiances, and since the Slytherin team are royal wankers and Ravenclaw are little shits—"

"I thought you were past that?" Dria laughed, at which Jackie narrowed her eyes.

"Never." She replied. "Anyway, you should be happy, I'm supporting Gryffindor after all."

"Oh, Jackie I'm elated." The blonde shook her head, squinting as she turned her attention back to the practice.

Somewhere in the air, she could make out the blurry figure of Harry aboard his new broomstick, which even Dria had to say was a pretty impressive thing to see — she had half a mind to suspect that Jackie had come to the practice purely to see it in action.

"Have you heard from your Mum yet?"

Dria found her attention wandering back to her friend as she voiced her question, nodding slowly in response.

Jackie had asked the Lockaby girl whether she could reach out to her mother to see if there would be any chance of her being able to arrange a work placement for the Hufflepuff at the Ministry in her old department in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office — Jules having been promoted into the Department of International Cooperation the year before — as Jackie was predicted to get an O in her Muggle Studies NEWT and desired to pursue a career in Muggle Relations.

"Yes, I meant to tell you." The blonde replied, "She's coming up next weekend for lunch so if you want to pick her brain after then she's all yours."

"Aw, family lunch?" Jackie smirked, "Sounds healthy."

"Apparently Annie suggested it." Dria grimaced at the thought of her parents couples therapy extending into the wider family.

"Oh, you mean Mrs Wood?"

"Don't, it's so weird." The blonde winced, resting her head in cold hands at the thoughts of Oliver's mother knowing the ins and outs of her parents' relationship.

"Does she know about you two in the cloakroom?" A menacing look was glimmering in Jackie's eye.

"Nothing happened in the cloakroom!"

"Still, I bet she's think you're proper unstable." Jackie tutted, her smirk never fading as she threw an arm around her friend. "Gonna corrupt her son by shagging him in a broom cupboard."

"Well, you'd know all about shagging in broom cupboards wouldn't you, Jack?"

Dria smirked as she felt Jackie remove her arm from around her shoulders, chuckling as she shook her head and playfully narrowed her eyes at the blonde.

"Oof, well played, Lockaby, well played."

Her smirk soon morphed into a sympathetic smile.

As far as Dria knew there had no been no further development before Jackie and Lorcan since the night of Nate's party when she'd comforted the girl in the empty Muggle Studies classroom. Yet, it was extremely apparent that both of them were still hurting from the way things had ended between them.

"Saw him in the common room, today." The blonde muttered, trying to gauge the Hufflepuff's reaction as she tentatively approached the subject. "Looked pretty sorry for himself."

"Yeah, well—" Jackie cleared her throat a little, keeping her gaze firmly ahead of her. "Passing ships isn't it?"

"Hardly, Jacks." Dria objected, her eyebrow furrowed in concern as she surveyed her friend. "It's okay to like him, you know."

"DUCK!"

"Oh, fucking hell!"

Dria would have applauded Jackie's following actions as an A+ avoidance technique, however the Hufflepuff lunging towards the blonde at promptly tackling her to the ground had surprisingly little to do with subject that had been broached and more to do with the Bludger that George Weasley had sent on their direction to stop it from hitting Alicia Spinnet.

"Oi, watch it!" Jackie screeched at the red-head at the duo rose up to their feet once the Bludger had opted for a different course.

"Sorry!" A far off voice called back.

Dria let out a small hmph as she settled back into her seat, rubbing her hands together desperately trying to get some warmth back in them.

"I'm never coming to one of these again."

"The supportive girlfriend role not to your taste." Jackie chuckled as she reached over and sorted out Dria's parting.

"I am plenty supportive. I just figured that at Quidditch practice it would the players at risk of injury not the spectators!" Dria grumbled, letting out a huff and immediately feeling discouraged as she saw her breath condense before her in the cold air. "Also, we've been here for over an hour and I'm freezing!"

"You should have brought a thicker jumper." Jackie tutted, earning a scowl from Dria.

"Well, I didn't." The blonde snapped in response, before immediately settling into a happier move upon seeing the players beginning to descend. "Oh, thank Merlin, they're coming down. Let's go!"

Dria didn't waste any time in getting up from her seat — leaving a very amused Jackie having to jog in order to catch up with her — as she made long strides going down the stairs of the stands, across the pitch in the direction of the changing tents, propelled by her craving to get out of the cold air.

The change in temperature as Dria stepped through the canvas entrance was substantial, causing the blonde a small whimper of happiness as she felt the feeling slowly return to her fingertips.

"Hey!" The jovial tone and Scottish lilt of the team's Captain caused her eyes to open as he and the rest of team raised their hands in greeting.

"Thank fuck it's warm in here." The blonde gushed, earning a chuckle from the Keeper, who was in the middle of taking his worn gloves off his hands.

"Looking good out there, team." Jackie smirked, as she strode in, folding her arms over her chest, much to the confusion of the Gryffindor team.

"What you doing here, O'Hare?" One of the Weasley asked from across the room, where they were kicking off their boots.

"Oh, you didn't expect her to suffer out there by herself, did you?" Jackie nudged the blonde at her side.

"I had a great time!" Dria objected, wincing a little as she turned to Oliver who was already chuckling as he reached out an arm to throw across her shoulders, pulling her into a small embrace.

"You're not convincing anyone, love." He muttered, pressing his lips to her hair at which she gave a dejected hug, before grimacing a little.

"Ugh, you're all sweaty." She scrunched up her face into a disgusted expression which only made the Keeper pull her in closer.

"Yeah, aiming a Bludger straight at the Captain's girlfriend." Jackie smirked, her attention still addressing the team's Beaters. "Clever play that, boys."

Dria could feel Oliver tense a little at Jackie's word choice, and she couldn't say that she didn't feel a little uncomfortable as she shuffled out of his embrace a little, her attention back on her friend.

"Sorry about that again, Dria." George called over at which the blonde waved off his apology.

"It's fine."

Having dismissed the apology, the ambience resumed in the tent, the rest of the Quidditch players beginning to shed their uniform, their interest having wavered from the two girls that had barged in.

Dria felt a hand land upon her shoulder and found her attention settling back on Oliver, who shot her a small smile as she placed her hand on top of his.

"I'm gonna grab a shower." He told her, at which she gave a gentle chuckle.

"Yeah, you stink." Dria smirked, dropping his hand, at which the Keeper only rolled his eyes as he started making his way over towards the showers.

"I'll see you at dinner." He called, his voice muffled a little as he tugged his shirt over his head, sparing her a wave as he turned the corner.

Dria felt a small blush rise on her cheeks once he was out of view, a little flustered at the sight of the Keeper shirtless however her bashfulness quickly subsided at the remakes of her friend.

"Nice."

"Jackie!"

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖆 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘!
me & the chapter
hated each other

make this as the
start of the b&b
resurgence era x

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