Quills, Quidditch, and Percy Weasley

Chapter Two

Thunk.
Oliver slammed the door of his apartment behind him and tossed his key onto his table. He could've just done alohamora, but he liked something about carrying a key.

"No quidditch," he grumbled, marching into the kitchen and pulling the refrigerator open. He slammed it shut after not finding anything he fancied eating - and then pulled it back open. He simply stood there, staring, but not really looking.

Something heavy landed on his foot, and Oliver looked down to find his cat staring up at him.
"Hi, Snitches," he smiled, leaning down to ruffle the orange and white tabby's fur. "Looks like me and you are gonna be spending a lot of time together. I can't play quidditch."

The cat looked at him with big, sad eyes as if to say, "I'm sorry". Oliver laughed and scooped the cat up in his arms.

"It's okay, buddy." The cat meowed - cat speak for put put me down, Oliver before I... - and so Oliver set him on the floor. Right as he did, Wood noticed a tapping noise coming from the living room. "What the..." He muttered to himself, and jogged towards the source of the noise.

Of course, being a wizard, he should have known that it would be an owl delivering a letter. He pulled the window open and the small barn owl hopped inside. Oliver untied the scroll on his leg and unrolled it.

Oliver,

I was sorry to hear about your injury - I know how much quidditch means to you. I understand that at this point in time, you may be unoccupied. I thought if you weren't busy and were looking for something to do, perhaps, you'd be interested in helping me with the quidditch editorials in the Daily Prophet? I hardly have time to edit and review everything, and I reckon you know as much about quidditch as anyone.

Sincerely,

Percy Weasley

Oliver felt his face going red, even though the only person around was the cat, who was staring at him - again - with big eyes. He seemed to be smirking.

"Oh, shut up."