Author's Note: I apologize for not having updated in a long time but I've been pretty swamped with school work. Here's the best I could come up with for now. :) Reviews are always welcome.

Chapter 4
Dreams and the Quidditch Captain

He was sitting in his armchair by the fireplace, a glass of hot butterbeer in his left hand while his right rubbed at his throbbing temples. It had been a hard day on the field and he wasn't exactly top on his coach's list at the moment.

He tensed when he felt a figure take position behind him and the glass of amber liquid was taken out of his hands and a moment later, two familiar hands came down upon his shoulders, gently gripping them and slowly began massaging the sore muscles. He was surprised at first but it just felt so good and relaxing that he immediately sank into her touch and relaxed.

"Oliver," she whispered huskily in his ear as she went on with her ministrations.

"Why are you here?" he asked in a whisper, his eyes closing at the pleasure of the little massage he was getting.

She stopped and he felt her slowly walk around his chair to stand before him. He looked up at her. Her red see-through nightgown was short and he could see her red bra and barely there knickers through them. She was smirking at him; her too red lips teasing him and daunting him.

He was filled with anger with her but he couldn't help the erection that strained in his pants. He looked at her with angry eyes and he swore her smirk got even wider. He growled and made a move to pull her to him when she quickly stepped back and avoided his grasp.

He looked at her questioningly and was furious at the mocking smirk that adorned her eyes.

"You're not the one I want anymore, Oliver," she said.

Oliver's eyes snapped open. He was breathing heavily and sweat was covering his forehead. He was immediately filled with frustration when he realized that the stupid dream had given him a rather hard problem. "To hell with that bitch," he thought as he looked out of his window and saw that the sun was beginning to rise. He got out of bed and stepped into the shower. His muscles tensed and he shivered at the cold water. He seriously needed to get rid of her and those damned memories.

He was walking to the Great Hall when he realized that it was a Saturday and with his hands tucked into his pockets, he changed route and decided to take a walk to the Black Lake instead. Upon reaching the edge, he looked out onto the gleaming surface of the lake and the tranquil silence that greeted him. He realized at once that this was a bad idea: standing alone in silence brought nothing into his mind than the memories and the feelings that had been plaguing him for the past few weeks.

He was brought out of his reverie when a group of loud and boisterous boys passed by him.

"The Gryffs are training this morning!" said one of the boys excitedly and the other boys exclaimed in excitement and cheered.

"Wouldn't want to miss it now, would we?" exclaimed a blonde who was grinning widely.

"That captain of theirs is a wicked one to watch!" cried another.

And that caught Oliver's attention. He looked at the excited and cheering group of boys walking towards the direction of the Quidditch pitch and was immediately curious. The rush that only anything Quidditch could give him came rushing through his veins and he realized suddenly that he was walking the same way the boys had just gone; excitement and curiosity growing inside of him.

He had quite a number of questions in his mind. First, how was the team faring without any of the old players? Second, who were on the team? He began making in his mind a list of the quidditch players that he knew and then remembered that it had been more than three years since he graduated and he was pretty sure that most of his teammates that had made up his team in his time had as well graduated. It seems that this would be a whole new Gryffindor Quidditch team and the most important question in his mind, how was Ginny Weasley doing as captain?

He picked up pace, more eager than ever to get to the pitch. Once he had found a good view of the pitch and began watching, he couldn't help the twitch of a grin that formed on his lips.

The energy was intense. The flurry of red and golden robes flying in the air moved with both agility and grace.

And the voice, oh yes, it was that voice that had caught his attention.

"Lewis, pick up speed- there you go! Hartworth, fly a little higher now, you're flying for the Quidditch team and not for some flying lesson!" commanded the strong but smooth voice.

He looked at the girl standing at the highest level of the stands, her stance authoritative with both one hand propped on her waist as the other held on to a broom- a Firebolt, he recognized- and her face serious as she shouted orders and drill patterns at her team. He recognized the drill patterns. They were his creation. He decided that she must have picked it up from one of her brothers or maybe even Potter. Never did Oliver expect that this girl would be holding captaincy of the Gryffindor team but he realized he should have known better. After all, this girl came from a family of quidditch players. He had had most of his brothers on his team in his own captaincy and they were definitely more than great players.

Oliver looked at her with curiosity.

Ginny Weasley, what else is there to you?