After Dinner

With Oliver

The students were making their way toward their respective common rooms, the hallways echoing with the sounds of their footsteps.

"Gryffindors, follow me, please!" Percy called, his voice firm but friendly. "Keep up now, thank you."

As they moved forward, Oliver heard another voice calling out from behind. "Ravenclaw, follow me. This way." The group of Ravenclaw students veered off to the right, heading down another corridor.

Percy glanced back to make sure the Gryffindors were staying together. "This is the most direct path to the dormitories. Oh, and a word of warning," he said, his voice lowering slightly. "Keep an eye on the staircases—they like to change without warning."

Oliver followed closely behind Percy, noticing the staircases ahead shifting positions. Some students ahead of them stepped carefully as a flight of stairs moved, blocking their path. The Gryffindors exchanged curious looks as they passed by, trying to get used to the unpredictable nature of Hogwarts.

"Come on now, keep up," Percy urged, leading them further up the stairs. "Quickly now, let's go."

As they walked, Ron's voice came up from behind. "Woah, that picture's moving!" he exclaimed, pointing to a painting that seemed to come to life, the subjects within it shifting positions. "Look at that one!" He pointed at another moving painting.

Harry smirked. "I think she fancies you," he teased, referring to one of the painted women who was smiling warmly at Ron.

Oliver chuckled at the comment, shaking his head as he caught snippets of conversation from the other students. A mix of awe and excitement filled the air as they all tried to take in the wonders of Hogwarts.

Finally, they reached the entrance to the Gryffindor dormitory. A woman's face appeared in the portrait on the wall, her eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded them.

"Password?" she asked, her voice demanding.

"Caput Draconis," Percy answered confidently.

The portrait swung open, revealing the entrance to the common room beyond. Students gasped in awe as they stepped inside, the space warm and cozy with its deep red furnishings and roaring fireplace.

"Follow me, everyone," Percy called as he led the group inside. "Keep up, quickly now."

The first years followed closely, their eyes wide as they took in the comfortable surroundings. The Gryffindor common room had a homely, inviting atmosphere—plenty of armchairs and sofas scattered around, with shelves full of books and magical artifacts.

"Gather around here," Percy said, once everyone had entered. "Welcome to the Gryffindor common room! The boys' dormitory is upstairs to the left, and the girls' dormitory is on your right. You'll find your belongings have already been brought up, so feel free to head up and get settled in."

The students began to scatter in groups, eager to explore their new home for the year. Oliver looked around at his new surroundings, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. This was just the beginning of what promised to be an incredible journey.

Later

In the Boys' Dorm

Oliver stood by the window, his gaze drifting out over the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts, the moonlight casting a soft glow across the landscape. Harry sat beside him, his pet owl perched on the windowsill. It was a quiet moment—one of peace amidst all the chaos that had unfolded since their arrival at the castle.

"You okay, Harry?" Oliver asked gently, his voice low.

Harry gave a small nod, his eyes distant but softened by something Oliver couldn't quite place. "Yeah. It's just... it's nice to feel wanted," Harry admitted, the words carrying a weight of meaning that hung in the air.

Oliver's heart softened. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Harry in a tight, reassuring hug. "I'll always want you around, Harry. You're my cousin. And I promised my dad I'd look out for you. Always."

Harry's arms slowly found their way around Oliver, his voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you," he murmured, the words barely above a whisper.

Minutes passed in silence, and Oliver felt Harry's breathing slow, his weight becoming heavier against him. His cousin, once so uncertain and alone, had finally found a place where he could rest. A gentle weight settled in Oliver's chest as he watched Harry drift into a peaceful sleep, safe and secure in his arms.

Oliver felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness. His mind wandered to the adventure ahead—the school year would be full of challenges, mysteries, and a thousand unpredictable moments. But it was worth it. Keeping Harry safe, watching over him, was the promise Oliver had made. And he would keep it.

After a while, Oliver carefully lifted his cousin, cradling him gently in his arms. He walked over to Harry's bed, tucking him in with tender care, making sure his owl was nestled by his side. The soft rustle of feathers seemed to reassure both of them.

With one last glance to make sure Harry was comfortable, Oliver stood back. He hesitated at the door but turned back to look at his cousin one more time, making sure he was truly at peace.

Then, Oliver moved back to the window, leaning against the cool glass. He stared out into the dark, keeping watch over his cousin, his thoughts filled with determination. There was no turning back now. They were in this together. And no matter what lay ahead, Oliver would be there for Harry, watching over him every step of the way.

He stayed there, vigilant, through the quiet hours of the night.

In the Morning

The next morning, Oliver, Ron, and Harry sprinted through the hallways, dodging students as they made their way to class. They burst into the room just as the bell rang, breathless and out of breath.

Ron let out a relieved laugh. "Made it! Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if we'd been late?"

No sooner had the words left Ron's mouth than the cat sitting at the desk leapt off and transformed into Professor McGonagall. The class fell silent in astonishment.

Ron's eyes widened. "That was bloody brilliant!"

McGonagall fixed them with a sharp gaze, clearly unfazed. "Oh, thank you for your kind assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps it would be more useful if I transfigured Mr. Potter, Mr. Queen, and yourself into pocket watches. That way, one of you might actually be on time."

Harry, ever quick on his feet, tried to cover. "We got lost," he said, offering a sheepish smile.

Oliver, however, cleared his throat and gave a small shake of his head. "Actually, it's my fault, Professor. I overslept. I'm sorry."

McGonagall regarded him with a pointed look, then nodded curtly. "Then I'll accept your apology. I trust you don't need a map to find your seats?"

Oliver nodded quickly, not daring to speak again, and took his place alongside Ron and Harry. As they settled into their seats, the trio shared a quiet chuckle. Oliver couldn't help but smile, even if his stomach was still buzzing from the near-miss.

Later

In Potions class

Oliver, Ron, and Harry sat in class, the atmosphere thick with anticipation. Hermione sat beside Oliver, her eyes darting between her notes and the professor. Then, with a dramatic swish of his robes, Professor Snape entered the room. The class fell silent as he spoke in a low, drawling voice.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," Snape began. "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few... who possess the proper predisposition... I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."

Oliver scribbled down the words, his focus sharpened by Snape's gravely tone. Beside him, Harry was doing the same, clearly trying to keep up with the professor's intensity.

"Then again," Snape continued, pacing before the class, "maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts with abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough not to pay attention." His cold gaze swept across the room.

Hermione nudged Oliver with her elbow, and he turned to meet her glance just as Snape stopped in front of Harry and Oliver.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Queen," Snape said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Our new celebrities. Tell me, what would I get if I added Pouter root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up immediately, eager to answer, but the boys exchanged a glance and shook their heads.

Snape's lips curled into a smirk. "You two don't know? Let's try again. Where would you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Queen, look if I asked you to find a bezoar?"

Once again, Hermione's hand shot up, but the boys, in perfect unison, said, "We don't know, sir."

Snape's expression grew colder, his eyes flicking toward Hermione, who had not yet lowered her hand. "And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?"

Oliver noticed Hermione's hand was still raised, and he quietly reached up to gently pull it down. "He's only doing this to make us look like idiots," Oliver murmured. "It's better if just Harry and I take the heat for now, okay?"

Hermione nodded and, with a reluctant sigh, kept her hand down.

The boys answered together, "We don't know, sir."

Snape's gaze lingered on them for a moment, his sneer widening. "Pity," he said, his voice laced with mock sympathy. "Clearly, fame isn't everything... is it, Mr. Potter, Mr. Queen?"

Later

At Lunch

The Great Hall was filled with the sounds of students eating and chatting. Oliver was halfway through his meal when he heard a boy's voice nearby. "Eye of rabbit, harp string hum. Turn this water into rum." The boy muttered it again, his face scrunching in concentration as he glared at his glass of water.

Harry leaned over to Oliver, eyebrows raised. "What's Seamus trying to do to that glass of water?"

Ron, munching on a piece of bread, glanced over. "Turn it into rum. Managed to make weak tea yesterday, before—"

There was a sudden loud bang, followed by a burst of smoke. The entire table turned to see Seamus with his hair standing on end, his face covered in black soot and small, singed spots.

The room erupted into laughter, and Oliver couldn't help but chuckle along. Hermione, sitting next to him, waved her hand in front of her face as the pungent odor of smoke hit them. Oliver quickly followed suit, the smell almost making him gag.

"Ah, mail's here," Ron said, looking up as a flurry of owls swooped down into the hall, delivering letters and parcels to the students.

Oliver looked around the room as owls dropped letters for nearly everyone—except for him and Harry.

Harry noticed a newspaper being passed around and leaned over. "Can I borrow that?"

"Sure," Ron nodded.

"Thanks," Harry said, already unfolding the paper.

"Hey, look, Neville's got a Remembrall!" someone said from across the hall. The group turned to see Neville holding up a small glass ball that was glowing faintly in his hands.

"I've read about those," Hermione said. "When the smoke turns red, it means you've forgotten something."

Neville frowned. "The only problem is, I can't remember what I've forgotten."

Just as Oliver was about to reply, Harry suddenly said, "Hey, Ron, Ollie. Someone broke into Gringotts. Listen to this."

Both Oliver and Ron turned to see Harry reading the article aloud. "'Believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown... Gringotts goblins acknowledge the breach but insist nothing was taken. The vault in question, number 713, had been emptied earlier that same day.'"

Harry's voice trailed off as the four of them exchanged a meaningful look.

"That's odd," Harry murmured, his brow furrowing. "That's the same vault Hagrid and I went to."

Ron frowned. "I don't like this. Something doesn't add up."

Hermione nodded, her expression serious. "We should find out more about this."

The tension in the air was palpable as all four of them sat in silence, the strange coincidence hanging heavily between them.

Later

Outside

The students stood outside, lined up beside their brooms, when Madam Hooch appeared, her sharp gaze sweeping over them.

"Good afternoon, class," she said briskly.

"Good afternoon, Madam Hooch," the students responded in unison.

"Good afternoon, Amanda," Hooch added, nodding to one of the students.

"Good afternoon," Amanda said, her voice small.

Hooch walked to the front of the group and turned to face them. "Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone, step up to the left side of your broomstick."

The students did as instructed, their eyes wide with excitement.

"Come on now, hurry up. Stick your right hand over your broom and say 'Up'."

Oliver and Harry did as told, placing their right hands over their brooms and saying firmly, "Up!" Their brooms shot into their hands with a satisfying thud.

Hermione, who was standing nearby, glanced at them, eyes wide in shock as she tried the same. She muttered "Up!" several times, but her broom didn't respond.

"Wow," Harry said, grinning as the rest of the students struggled to get their brooms to obey.

Oliver noticed Malfoy, who had managed to get his broom to fly into his hand with a smirk on his face.

Meanwhile, Ron was getting frustrated. "Up! Up!" he muttered, his voice rising with annoyance.

Hooch stepped forward, a hint of a smile on her lips. "With feeling, Mr. Weasley."

The others continued to try, but the brooms remained stubbornly on the ground. Oliver shared a look with Harry, both amused by the scene unfolding before them.

Oliver smiled at Hermione, who was clearly getting frustrated with her broom. He held his broom with one hand, then placed his right hand over it and said, "Up!" The broom immediately jumped into his hand.

Hermione frowned, looking a little put out. "Hey! That's mine!"

"I know," Oliver said with a grin, handing it to her. "But you've got to get it to work yourself."

Hermione took the broom, still looking irritated. "But I wanted to get it up myself."

Oliver chuckled and shrugged. "Okay. Put it on the ground, and talk to it like it's a person with feelings. Say, 'Up.'"

Hermione gave him a dubious look but followed his advice. "Up!" she said, and this time, the broom shot into her hand.

"Nice! Good job, Mia," Oliver said, nodding approvingly.

"Mia?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing.

"Yeah, it's a nickname. For your name. Do you not like it?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, then smiled slightly. "No, it's okay. But I'll only allow you to call me that."

Oliver smiled back. "No problem."

Just as the tension seemed to ease, Ron yelled, "Up!" His broom shot into the air, and it immediately smacked him square in the forehead, sending him stumbling backward.

Harry snorted with laughter, but Ron was not amused. "Shut up, Harry."

Madam Hooch took a step forward and clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Now that you've all got your brooms, I want you to mount them. Grip them tight, you don't want to be sliding off the end."

The students mounted their brooms, some awkwardly, others more confidently.

"When I blow my whistle, I want you to kick off from the ground, hard. Hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my whistle. Three, two..."

She blew her whistle. At the same time, Neville's broom shot up into the air, and he started floating higher than the others, kicking his legs in a panic.

"Mr. Longbottom!" Hooch called, rushing toward him.

The students around Neville began shouting, "Down, down!"

"Neville!" Harry shouted, looking up with concern.

"Help!" Neville called, his voice full of panic as he swayed, unable to control his broom.

Oliver, seeing the situation escalate, quickly mounted his broom. "I'm going after him. Make sure he doesn't hurt himself," he said as he kicked off the ground.

Hooch shouted after him, "Mr. Queen, where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going after Neville!" Oliver called back, flying toward the struggling boy.

"Come back down this instant, Mr. Queen! Mr. Longbottom!" Hooch ordered, but Oliver ignored her.

He soared through the air, reaching Neville just as he began to spin out of control. Neville was clearly having a hard time, his broom jerking from side to side, about to crash into the ground.

Oliver pushed himself forward, speeding up until he collided with Neville. Both of them slammed into a nearby wall, and Neville continued to float away from him.

Hermione screamed, "Ollie!" as she watched the crash, but Hooch quickly pulled her back to prevent her from getting too close.

Oliver groaned as he struggled to get to his feet, looking up to see Neville dangling helplessly from his broom, his robe caught on a nearby torch.

"No!" Oliver shouted, rushing to help.

He got to Neville just as he was hanging by his robe, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he conjured a bow from his wand. Drawing the bowstring back, an arrow appeared in the air.

"Net arrow! Fire!" Oliver shouted. The arrow shot toward Neville and wrapped around him just as his robe could no longer hold him. He crashed into the soft net below, letting out a small cry of relief.

Sighing in relief, Oliver flicked his wrist again, folding the bow back into his wand as he stood up.

Hooch, looking furious, marched over to him. "Mr. Queen! I don't remember anyone authorizing you to bring a bow to class!"

Oliver shrugged nonchalantly. "Come on, Professor, I just saved him. points at Neville Doesn't that count for something?"

Hooch's stern expression softened slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. "Mr. Queen... never mind. We'll finish this conversation later." She turned to Neville, who was holding his arm in pain. "Accio, net!"

The net flew toward her and Neville landed gently on the ground, wincing. "Ow..."

"Oh dear, it's a broken wrist," Hooch said sympathetically. "Come on now, up you get."

She helped Neville to his feet, then turned to address the rest of the class. "Everyone is to keep their feet on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. Understand? If I see a single broom in the air... the one riding it will be out of Hogwarts before they can say Quidditch."

As Hooch helped Neville away, Oliver walked back to the group, his broom in hand. Malfoy was standing off to the side, holding Neville's Remembrall.

"Did you see his face?" Malfoy sneered. "Maybe if the fat lard had given this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to fall on his fat arse."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Give it here, Malfoy."

Malfoy smirked. "No. I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find."

He nonchalantly dropped it onto the ground, then mounted his broom and shot into the air. "How about the roof?" he taunted, flying upward.

Harry and Oliver exchanged a quick glance. "What's the matter, Potter, Queen?" Malfoy called from above. "Bit beyond your two's reach?"

Hermione's voice rang out from the side. "Harry, Ollie, no way! You heard what Madam Hooch said. Besides, you don't even know how to fly yet!"

"Sorry, darling, needs to be down for Neville," Oliver said with a grin, already kicking off the ground.

Hermione groaned in exasperation. "What idiots."

Oliver followed Harry as they flew up to confront Malfoy. Malfoy was busy tossing the Remembrall in the air, catching it with a smug look on his face.

"Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll knock you off your broom!" Harry shouted.

Malfoy grinned. "Is that so?"

Harry lunged forward to grab it, but Malfoy spun around and narrowly avoided him. As he did, he tossed the Remembrall into the air.

"Go after it, Harry. I'll deal with him," Oliver said, his voice cold as he pulled out his wand.

He conjured a bow with a flick of his wrist and, pulling back the bowstring, fired a magic arrow. "Bombarda!" he shouted as the arrow shot toward Malfoy. It hit him squarely, knocking him off his broom, and he landed hard on the ground with a groan. The arrow vanished once it struck its target.

Malfoy groaned from the ground. "I'll get you back for that, Queen!"

Oliver hovered above him with a smirk. "You will? I can't wait. It'll be a date then. See ya later, buddy." He turned and flew back to the group, where Harry had caught the Remembrall.

The students cheered as Harry landed, waving the Remembrall triumphantly.

As Oliver dismounted, he saw McGonagall marching toward them, looking furious.

"Harry Potter! Oliver Queen!" she shouted.

The boys turned to her, and she said firmly, "Follow me."

Reluctantly, the two boys followed her toward the castle.

A little bit later

In a hallway

After getting to their destination, McGonagall says "You two wait here."

Oliver heard McGonagall ask if she could borrow someone named Wood.

After Wood came out, McGonagall said, "Potter, Queen, this is Oliver Wood. Wood, I have found you a seeker, and another brute for you to add to your ranks.

To be continued...