Author's Notes: Okay, I've had this idea for a story in the back of my mind
ever since I saw the Harry Potter movie. When Oliver tells Harry he was
knocked out in his very first Quidditch match, the gears in my head started
to crank and when he was knocked out by Marcus Flint in the match, they
just started spinning faster. And here came the idea! Now, what if Oliver
got amnesia from that hit to the head during Harry's first Quidditch match?
What if Oliver didn't know who he was or where he was? Now what if Fred and
George decided to take it upon themselves to "help" Oliver get his memory
back? I hope you all like this, and I'm glad I'm finally getting this fic
down. So enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling, and the events taking place in the Quidditch match are courtesy of the people at Warner Bros. Any "original" characters which may appear in this story as just random people in the background however, ARE my creations. Not that that's important though.
Nasty Little Buggers
Chapter One: Amnesia
Harry Potter clutched his broom nervously as he made his way towards the Quidditch pitch. He stood behind the gates, waiting for his very first Quidditch match against Slytherin to begin. He was deathly nervous. He had only just learned what Quidditch was a week ago and had been given the most crucial position on the team; the Seeker. What if he made a fool of himself? What if he fell of his broom? What if he was really bad? All this hype about his Seeker skills had spread across the school like wildfire. Harry wished people were a little better at keeping secrets…
Oliver Wood looked down at the small, quivering boy next to him. Harry looked like he was about to faint. Oliver had to do something to try and calm his nerves. He didn't want his new Seeker going out there terrified, how would he focus on catching the Snitch?
"Scared, Harry?" he asked.
"A little," came the response, as Harry shrugged, trying to mask his obvious terror.
"I felt the same way before my first game," Oliver said, hoping it would make the first year feel better. Harry looked a little calmer. Oliver smiled, maybe it had worked.
"What happened?" Oh no, thought Oliver. The question… He had hoped Harry wouldn't have asked him about it, but seeing as keeping silent wouldn't help the kid, Oliver complied.
"Uh… I don't really remember," admitted Oliver, trying to find some nice way of explaining his nasty run in with a bludger. "I took a bludger to the head two minutes in. Woke up in hospital a week later." Oliver grinned sheepishly. Harry looked downright horrified. That wasn't quite what he had expected him to say.
Then the doors opened. Before Harry could say anything, Oliver had mounted his broom and had flown out onto the pitch, followed by the rest of the team. Harry joined them and began a few warm up laps around the pitch. He was relieved the find that the sensation of flying seemed to calm his nerves. He felt a little less queasy as he hovered above Oliver and Angelina in the center circle waiting for Madam Hooch to release the balls.
Up went the Bludgers and the Snitch. Harry tried to mark the Snitch, but it hovered around his and the Slytherin Seeker's heads and then disappeared. Hooch blew her whistle and the Quaffle was tossed into the air. Harry shot up, as a mass of green and scarlet blurs all raced to get their hands on the round red ball.
Harry didn't know quite what to do. He thought it best to just hover around the pitch above everyone and look out for the Snitch. He couldn't help but watch the rest of the game at the same time too though.
"Angelina Johnson scores! Ten points for Gryffindor!" cheered Lee Jordan, the game's commentator.
Harry cheered along with the rest of the crowd but was nearly knocked off his broom as a Bludger came racing towards him. Harry rolled over and the Bludger missed him, with one of the Weasley twins in pursuit.
Harry watched as Marcus Flint came streaking up the pitch, the Quaffle tucked tightly under his arm. He was a rather foul player, sending a swift kick towards Alicia Spinnet as she tried to take the Quaffle away from him. But Wood was there to stop Flint and grinning mockingly at Flint, tossed the Quaffle to Katie Bell. Harry smirked, at the seething look on Flint's face. But still no Snitch.
The score was 20-0 for Gryffindor when Harry had to dodge out of Montague's way as he came racing towards the Gryffindor end. Wood was there just in time to catch the Quaffle and stop Slytherin from scoring. But Flint had had enough. He grabbed the Beater's bat from Derrick and cracked a bludger towards Oliver. Oliver wasn't paying attention to Marcus and didn't see the black orb until it was too late.
CRACK! The Bludger hit Oliver in the head, making him see stars. He tumbled backwards through the hoop he had been guarding and slumped forwards onto his broomstick. Harry saw it as if in slow motion, as Oliver fell to the ground landing sprawled out in the sandy border. The crowd gasped and booed as the Slytherins cheered and laughed. Harry glared at Flint, who sneered back before flying off in search of the Quaffle.
Hooch never called a foul for some reason. Harry didn't know why. Oliver had explained some of the fouls to Harry and Hermione had gotten him to read "Quidditch Through the Ages". Even with the odds against them with their goal hoops wide open, Gryffindor still managed to win.
The team basked in their victory for a short period of time before racing off to the hospital wing where their captain had been taken. It took much convincing for Madam Pomphrey to let them in, but they managed to push their way in and over to Oliver's bed.
He was out cold with a nasty looking bruise over his right eye. Harry seemed to be the only one who could feel the irony of this situation. The Chasers looked worried but Fred and George seemed to be acting like this was a weekly occurrence.
"He's going to be okay, right Madam?" asked Katie anxiously.
"Yes, yes, of course," replied the matron. "Just a little bump on the head. He should be up in about a week or so. This isn't the first time it's happened. When will that boy learn to keep himself out of trouble?"
The girls didn't look impressed. Fred and George were trying to suppress laughter. They obviously knew about Oliver's past experiences with Bludgers. Of course, then again, Fred and George never took anything seriously.
Days went by and Oliver still wasn't awake yet. Fred and George kept making cracks about how if this kept up, Oliver wouldn't have any brain cells left by the time he was twenty. Percy, who happened to be one of Oliver's best friends, kept telling them to shut up. Even Angelina and Alicia were beginning to tire of the twins' teasing.
"You know, you ought to be a little nicer to the guy," lectured Angelina to them at lunch one day. "What's he ever done to you?"
"He's a good captain and a nice guy," added Alicia. "And all you two ever do is put him down!"
"Wow, we're only kidding, girls!" protested Fred. "We don't actually mean anything we say!"
"Well you don't show it," sniffed Angelina.
"What do you thinks gotten into them?" asked George as the twins left the Great Hall.
"I dunno," shrugged Fred. "But maybe we should pay our 'dear' captain a visit."
The twins trekked up the staircase to the hospital wing. Madam Pomphrey looked a little suspicious about the two of them wanting to visit but allowed them in just the same.
"So, Oliver, how're you doing?" asked Fred.
"Smashing day, isn't it?" added George. No response. "Say, Fred, don't you think this is a bit pointless? I mean, it's not like we can carry on a conversation with him. He's out cold… still."
"So then why are we here?" asked Fred.
"Good point," said George. "I say we go. I'm sure the Slytherins could use a few dungbombs right about now."
They got up to leave but stopped when they heard Oliver give a low groan. The twins turned around and saw Oliver blink and stare up at them with blank brown eyes.
"Oliver, you're awake?"
"Welcome back, mate!"
"What…?" asked Oliver, confused.
"You'll be glad to know Gryffindor won the match," said George.
"Gryffindor…?"
"Yeah, Harry Potter's a really great Seeker," added Fred. "You made a great find."
"Harry…?"
"Yeah, is any of this registering inside that thick skull of yours?" teased Fred.
"Hold on, Fred," said George, peering at Oliver. Oliver stared blankly back. "What's my name?"
"I don't know…" answered Oliver. "Why? Am I supposed to?"
"He could never tell us apart anyways, George," said Fred.
"Fine, have it your way," said George. "Okay, new question. Who are you?"
Oliver sat up and thought for a minute… and another minute… Fred sighed exasperatedly. He knew Oliver wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but it wasn't THAT hard of a question. Finally, the feeble answer came. "I don't know… I can't remember it…"
The twins paused. Oliver had amnesia! He didn't remember a thing! They felt sorry at first but then… two equally sly grins crept across the Weasley twins' faces. This could work to their advantage…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
So what do you think for the first chapter? Let me know what you think about this story by leaving a review!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling, and the events taking place in the Quidditch match are courtesy of the people at Warner Bros. Any "original" characters which may appear in this story as just random people in the background however, ARE my creations. Not that that's important though.
Nasty Little Buggers
Chapter One: Amnesia
Harry Potter clutched his broom nervously as he made his way towards the Quidditch pitch. He stood behind the gates, waiting for his very first Quidditch match against Slytherin to begin. He was deathly nervous. He had only just learned what Quidditch was a week ago and had been given the most crucial position on the team; the Seeker. What if he made a fool of himself? What if he fell of his broom? What if he was really bad? All this hype about his Seeker skills had spread across the school like wildfire. Harry wished people were a little better at keeping secrets…
Oliver Wood looked down at the small, quivering boy next to him. Harry looked like he was about to faint. Oliver had to do something to try and calm his nerves. He didn't want his new Seeker going out there terrified, how would he focus on catching the Snitch?
"Scared, Harry?" he asked.
"A little," came the response, as Harry shrugged, trying to mask his obvious terror.
"I felt the same way before my first game," Oliver said, hoping it would make the first year feel better. Harry looked a little calmer. Oliver smiled, maybe it had worked.
"What happened?" Oh no, thought Oliver. The question… He had hoped Harry wouldn't have asked him about it, but seeing as keeping silent wouldn't help the kid, Oliver complied.
"Uh… I don't really remember," admitted Oliver, trying to find some nice way of explaining his nasty run in with a bludger. "I took a bludger to the head two minutes in. Woke up in hospital a week later." Oliver grinned sheepishly. Harry looked downright horrified. That wasn't quite what he had expected him to say.
Then the doors opened. Before Harry could say anything, Oliver had mounted his broom and had flown out onto the pitch, followed by the rest of the team. Harry joined them and began a few warm up laps around the pitch. He was relieved the find that the sensation of flying seemed to calm his nerves. He felt a little less queasy as he hovered above Oliver and Angelina in the center circle waiting for Madam Hooch to release the balls.
Up went the Bludgers and the Snitch. Harry tried to mark the Snitch, but it hovered around his and the Slytherin Seeker's heads and then disappeared. Hooch blew her whistle and the Quaffle was tossed into the air. Harry shot up, as a mass of green and scarlet blurs all raced to get their hands on the round red ball.
Harry didn't know quite what to do. He thought it best to just hover around the pitch above everyone and look out for the Snitch. He couldn't help but watch the rest of the game at the same time too though.
"Angelina Johnson scores! Ten points for Gryffindor!" cheered Lee Jordan, the game's commentator.
Harry cheered along with the rest of the crowd but was nearly knocked off his broom as a Bludger came racing towards him. Harry rolled over and the Bludger missed him, with one of the Weasley twins in pursuit.
Harry watched as Marcus Flint came streaking up the pitch, the Quaffle tucked tightly under his arm. He was a rather foul player, sending a swift kick towards Alicia Spinnet as she tried to take the Quaffle away from him. But Wood was there to stop Flint and grinning mockingly at Flint, tossed the Quaffle to Katie Bell. Harry smirked, at the seething look on Flint's face. But still no Snitch.
The score was 20-0 for Gryffindor when Harry had to dodge out of Montague's way as he came racing towards the Gryffindor end. Wood was there just in time to catch the Quaffle and stop Slytherin from scoring. But Flint had had enough. He grabbed the Beater's bat from Derrick and cracked a bludger towards Oliver. Oliver wasn't paying attention to Marcus and didn't see the black orb until it was too late.
CRACK! The Bludger hit Oliver in the head, making him see stars. He tumbled backwards through the hoop he had been guarding and slumped forwards onto his broomstick. Harry saw it as if in slow motion, as Oliver fell to the ground landing sprawled out in the sandy border. The crowd gasped and booed as the Slytherins cheered and laughed. Harry glared at Flint, who sneered back before flying off in search of the Quaffle.
Hooch never called a foul for some reason. Harry didn't know why. Oliver had explained some of the fouls to Harry and Hermione had gotten him to read "Quidditch Through the Ages". Even with the odds against them with their goal hoops wide open, Gryffindor still managed to win.
The team basked in their victory for a short period of time before racing off to the hospital wing where their captain had been taken. It took much convincing for Madam Pomphrey to let them in, but they managed to push their way in and over to Oliver's bed.
He was out cold with a nasty looking bruise over his right eye. Harry seemed to be the only one who could feel the irony of this situation. The Chasers looked worried but Fred and George seemed to be acting like this was a weekly occurrence.
"He's going to be okay, right Madam?" asked Katie anxiously.
"Yes, yes, of course," replied the matron. "Just a little bump on the head. He should be up in about a week or so. This isn't the first time it's happened. When will that boy learn to keep himself out of trouble?"
The girls didn't look impressed. Fred and George were trying to suppress laughter. They obviously knew about Oliver's past experiences with Bludgers. Of course, then again, Fred and George never took anything seriously.
Days went by and Oliver still wasn't awake yet. Fred and George kept making cracks about how if this kept up, Oliver wouldn't have any brain cells left by the time he was twenty. Percy, who happened to be one of Oliver's best friends, kept telling them to shut up. Even Angelina and Alicia were beginning to tire of the twins' teasing.
"You know, you ought to be a little nicer to the guy," lectured Angelina to them at lunch one day. "What's he ever done to you?"
"He's a good captain and a nice guy," added Alicia. "And all you two ever do is put him down!"
"Wow, we're only kidding, girls!" protested Fred. "We don't actually mean anything we say!"
"Well you don't show it," sniffed Angelina.
"What do you thinks gotten into them?" asked George as the twins left the Great Hall.
"I dunno," shrugged Fred. "But maybe we should pay our 'dear' captain a visit."
The twins trekked up the staircase to the hospital wing. Madam Pomphrey looked a little suspicious about the two of them wanting to visit but allowed them in just the same.
"So, Oliver, how're you doing?" asked Fred.
"Smashing day, isn't it?" added George. No response. "Say, Fred, don't you think this is a bit pointless? I mean, it's not like we can carry on a conversation with him. He's out cold… still."
"So then why are we here?" asked Fred.
"Good point," said George. "I say we go. I'm sure the Slytherins could use a few dungbombs right about now."
They got up to leave but stopped when they heard Oliver give a low groan. The twins turned around and saw Oliver blink and stare up at them with blank brown eyes.
"Oliver, you're awake?"
"Welcome back, mate!"
"What…?" asked Oliver, confused.
"You'll be glad to know Gryffindor won the match," said George.
"Gryffindor…?"
"Yeah, Harry Potter's a really great Seeker," added Fred. "You made a great find."
"Harry…?"
"Yeah, is any of this registering inside that thick skull of yours?" teased Fred.
"Hold on, Fred," said George, peering at Oliver. Oliver stared blankly back. "What's my name?"
"I don't know…" answered Oliver. "Why? Am I supposed to?"
"He could never tell us apart anyways, George," said Fred.
"Fine, have it your way," said George. "Okay, new question. Who are you?"
Oliver sat up and thought for a minute… and another minute… Fred sighed exasperatedly. He knew Oliver wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but it wasn't THAT hard of a question. Finally, the feeble answer came. "I don't know… I can't remember it…"
The twins paused. Oliver had amnesia! He didn't remember a thing! They felt sorry at first but then… two equally sly grins crept across the Weasley twins' faces. This could work to their advantage…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
So what do you think for the first chapter? Let me know what you think about this story by leaving a review!