Search Home Read Write Forum Login Register


First of all, I want to thank all the fans who have left me messages and reviews. Because of you, I have found the joy of writing. The reason I've been on such a long break is because I wasn't into it anymore. I began to like to make graphics, hence why the story has a new banner. However, I got a really long email from a fan that brought me back.


I've decided that every Sunday, I am going to post a new chapter. I've also got a one shot in the works, so look out for that!!!!




“Alright Dunbar, I want you to do laps until I tell you to stop,” Fields said from under his stupid yellow shiny raincoat after he was sure that the press had left the stadium. It was beginning to rain more and more since the clouds were on a mission to dump all of their contents. 

“When will that be coach?” I gulped as I mounted my broom, ready to take off. I didn’t want to fly laps, I was tired and hurt. He had a right to be mad, but I on the other hand still had my pride. 

“When I see that I have broken into you,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, looking me up and down, his stare cold and hard. I’d never seen Fields this angry before and I knew that I’d been stupid taking on Rosenthal even though my coach said not to. But something inside of me said that I needed to show him that I wasn’t going down without a fight. I was Michelle Dunbar. 

A force to be reckoned with.  

“What sign would tell you I’m broken?” I said, returning the stare. I wasn’t going to show him that I was weak. I was determined. I made a decision and I was going to stick by it whether he liked it or not. I was used to being a captain on my old team; I guess the attitude stuck. 

“When you start to cry. That’s when I know I’ve broken your goddamn pride. Now get a move on.” I kicked off the ground and started out with slow laps for I was tired and hurt. If I kept at this speed, I could have been at it for a long time, showing him that I wasn’t weak. 

“Faster Dunbar!” 

I leaned into my broom but instantly winced for my ribs screamed with pain. I hadn’t had a chance to see the Medi-wizard yet for Fields had quite literally pulled me out of the locker room as soon as I had gotten in. I slowed down and clutched my ribs with my hands. I had to stay at this speed, I couldn’t go faster or something horrible would happen. I could get even more hurt then I was now.  

“Faster Dunbar!” 

“I’m doing what I can!” I screamed back at him, my temper flaring. He just smiled evilly back at me as he adjusted his rain hood. Damn him and that stupid raincoat. Did I get any protective gear? No. Stupid coach. I slowly began to increase my speed while still staying mainly upright. If he wanted to see my pride diminish, he would have to be telling me to get a move on the whole night. I wouldn’t give up that easy, no way. 

“Faster Dunbar, or we’ll move on to something else like sit ups.” Oh fine, play that card. I grimaced as I lowered my body closer to the broom. My speed increased instantly and I hoped that it was the fastest I would have to go that night.

“Faster Dunbar!” I bit my lower lip and lowered myself further. The stadium began to blur into many colors as my broom whipped around the pitch, faster and faster as Fields, the coach from hell, willed me on. The combination of the rain and my condition made my head spin. A coppery taste filled my mouth as I rounded my, what seemed like, hundredth lap. It was really probably my twentieth, but I was so out of it that I couldn’t tell one from five. As I went around in circles faster and faster, things seemed to go in and out of focus, but I would not give up. Not this early. 

“Ready to give up Dunbar?” 

The coppery taste became more pungent. 

“Fine,” he yelled, “I have all night. We won’t stop until you want to.” The coppery taste now increased, if that was possible. The rain pelted my face and the wind whipped through my hair. I felt and looked horrible. Seconds turned into minutes as I continued to race around the pitch, half-conscious. 

“Alright, Dunbar, get down here, you’ve had enough for the night.” 

“No!” I croaked as I whipped past him and continued to fly. The pain in my ribs had been numb for a while now because of the cold and because I was slowly getting used to it. 

“Dunbar that is an order.” 

“No! I haven’t sobbed yet! My pride isn’t broken!” 

“You will get down here. NOW!” 


“Dunbar! I’m warning you.” 

“No coach, I will not come down until I sob!” 

“Very well then. I must be going, but stop whenever you see it fit,” he yelled over the howling wind as he made his way back to the safe shelter of the locker rooms. He had put the ball in my court now. It wasn’t up to him to break my pride, it was up to me. I bit my lip harder as I rounded the next turn. I hadn’t really noticed the coppery taste but now it was more apparent. What was it? Quickly, I look my hand off the broom and swiped it paste my shivering lips. It was faintly red. I looked down at my mouth and saw that it was bleeding. I gasped but then looked up just in time to see that I was heading straight for the keeper’s post. I swerved out of the way at the last second and continued the laps. Soon, I couldn’t see much of what was in front of me, but that did not stop me. When I was training for nationals, I used to train in the rainy weather all the time. If I could take it then, I could take it now. 

“Merlin Michelle, you’re going to get sick,” Fields said from right next to me. I jumped. 

“Huh?” I said turning to my right. There he was still in his stupid shiny yellow plastic raingear and on a broom doing laps with me. 

“Watch out!” he said and I barely missed one of the keeper hoops. “I am ordering you to get off that damn broom! You’ve been up here for an hour now.” 

“I will not. Not until I cry! You said it yourself.” 

“You are already Michelle. Get down on the ground now!” he said as we rounded the next turn. 

“That’s the rain,” I said barely above a whisper, not wanting to admit. I had no idea if I was crying or not, but I was going to stick with myself and not give into him. 

“No its not. You’re crying,” he yelled as we rounded the keeper hoops again, me going along the outside and him cutting around the inside in order to try and stop me. 

“Am not!” 

“Are too! 

“Am no!” 

“Let’s not turn this into one of those sibling fights. I can see the tears Michelle, you’re only fooling yourself.” I brushed my hand over my cheek and I thought I felt one; yet it could have been the rain. I slowed down and began to sit upright. My ribs groaned in response and I muffled a yelp of pain, which was enough to bring more tears to my eyes. I had finally cracked. I was now in full on tears and I couldn’t stop them from sliding down my face. My pride was gone. Gone. Snatched from my body. Before it had acted like a wall, keeping my emotions out, but now it was breeched and the emotions pored out. I cried for my parents, my sickness, my wrecked childhood, my loneliness, my failure and lastly my stubbornness. Sobs wracked my body as I clutched onto my broom, my knuckles becoming white.

I hadn’t cried this much in a very long time. 

“Get in the damn locker room and take a hot shower. It’ll be the downfall of the team if you get sick,” Fields said harshly but I could hear in the way he said it that he was sad as well. Maybe he didn’t mean to crack me that hard. There was more to Michelle Dunbar then he thought and how little did he know. He’d just unleashed water from behind a dam. 

“Yes coach,” I said as my numb feet hit the ground. I dismounted as I clutched my stomach. My ribs were now swelling and protesting in pain and I knew that I needed something to help stop it. 

“You know your lesson now Michelle. Take some potions for your ribs and report to practice on Monday of next week,” he said over the rain as he put an arm around me. He even tried to give me the stupid yellow hat from his rainsuit. I protested but part of me wanted to reach out and grab the thing. 

Then it hit me. 

 “But I can’t skip a week of practice!” I retorted as I swatted away his hand. I didn’t need any help thank you very much. I still had some part of my pride intact even though most of it was broken. 

“You have my permission. Go take a hot shower. You need to rest.” 

I turned around and slowly made my way back to the locker room, clutching my ribs the whole way. I had a lot of things to think about that Fields had so subliminally implied. I had too much pride and I was so stubborn that I didn’t see the things that were good for me. Like that stupid hat. Sighing as I tugged at the doorknob, I knew it was all because of my parents leaving me and my brother alone at such a young age. He’d gotten over it, why couldn’t I? I guess I never really grieved; my head was always on Quidditch and not much else. As I entered, my mind began to spin. Quidditch, parents, brother, love, Oliver, friends, games, pride; things began to circle my head as I walked down to where I had put my stuff before the rain ordeal. Voices called out my name as I stuck my hand into my bag. 

I whipped my head around. 


“Michelle, Michelle, Michelle,” they began to chant and cackle as they pranced around my vision. 

“Stop it,” I said clutching my head in pain. I didn’t need this right now; I already had too much on my plate. 

“Michelle,” they all chanted at the same time as I fell to my knees before the bench and my stuff. 

“STOP!” I said as my shaky hands went through my bag, looking for my bottle of miracle pills. 

“They don’t like you. Nobody does. You’re different. You don’t fit in. And most of all, he doesn’t love you,” they screamed as they all danced and cackled with one another. My ears rang as I covered them. 

“Stop,” I whimpered as the tears began to flow again. No, I couldn’t cry, not now. Any other time but now. Finally, I saw the white plastic and found it. I pulled out the bottle and then poured two white pills into my hand. 

“Michelle?” a male voice said but I chose to ignore it. It was probably my mind making things up. I popped them into my mouth just before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I blacked out on the cold floor beneath me. 


When I woke up, I wasn’t in the locker room. I was in a huge navy blue four poster feather bed that wasn’t mine. Nor was it Mike’s. I stared at the new room that I had been put into. Besides the navy bed, the walls were a creamy white and there was a navy blue and white couch with a wooden table near it. On the table were many papers and a miniature Quidditch pitch. At least I was in good company. Next to me was a wooden night stand that had a clock on it and a picture of a family waving to me. I picked up the picture. My hands grazed against the frame as I studied it more. There were what seemed like a couple and their children all at a Quidditch game. The couple had brown hair and so did the rest of the children. 

One caught my eye. He seemed very familiar but I could not put a finger on who it was. 

I put the picture back on the bedside table and sat up in the bed. It was rude to snoop. But oddly, my ribs didn’t hurt. I looked down to see that I was not in my uniform. Someone had dressed me and a white shirt and red plaid boxer shorts and put me in this bed. I moved from side to side. No pain. 

“I see you’re awake now,” a voice said. I looked up to see Oliver leaning against the door frame with a boyish grin on his face. My eyes widened as I realized that I was in his house and not mine. I grabbed the sheets and pulled them up to my chin. 

“Why am I here?” I asked sharply. I couldn’t remember what happened; all I remembered was that I had been doing laps because of my – pride. The events flashed back to me as I closed my eyes. I sighed as leaned back against the wooden head rest and opened my eyes. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge timidly. 

“After the game, I left right away because I had to deal with some personal matters,” he said seriously as he looked me in the eyes for the first time in a while. 

“What were those?” I said barely above a whisper. I knew he was going to launch into something about Katie. But something was different this time. I actually wanted to know, even if it had to do with Katie or not. 

“Then Annabell burst into my flat and told me that Fields was going to work you for not listening to him about not guarding Rosenthal,” he continued, ignoring my question. 

“Why don’t my ribs hurt?” I blurted out, eager to know something and fast. “Why am I in these clothes?” 

“I’m getting to that,” he said  and a grin graced his face. I smiled in return. “When I got back to the pitch, Fields told me that you put up a huge fight.” 

“I didn’t fight him. I did laps,” I said as I tilted my head to the side, “Or that’s at least what I can remember.” 

“Some say that laps are worse,” he said grimacing and then looked back at me. “Well he told me that he wanted me to check up on you because he said you weren’t looking too good while you hobbled back to the locker rooms. I heard whimpering so I called your name.” 

“The voice was you,” I whispered, thinking back to the male voice that I had heard shout. Everything was coming back to me now. My mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, it was Oliver coming inside. 

“I found you on the floor passed out with a bottle of white pills in your left hand,” he said looking me in the eyes seriously while holding my left hand. “I thought I had lost you. I’ve never been more scared in my life. Please don’t tell me those were drugs, Michelle.” 

“Those white pills were painkillers,” I lied quickly. They were really my medicine I took to help cope with my sickness. I couldn’t tell him about my condition. If anyone found out, I would be on the chopping block. I'd lose everything.

“How many did you take?” he said squeezing my left hand. He probably thought I was addicted to pain killers. Great. But that was better then him knowing the real reason. 

“Only two,” I assured him, I said raising two fingers. 

“Are you sure?” he said raising a brow quizzically. “How often do you take them?”

“Positive – I only take them when I have pain. You still didn’t answer why I’m here,” I countered almost harshly. 

“I told Fields that I was taking you back to my place after he said that you weren’t going to die. I owled your brother and told him that you would be spending the night. I thought of giving you a shower,” he said breaking the tension with his hearty laugh, “But I thought you would be mad at me the morning after, so I just gave you my clothes after I gave you a painkilling potion. But I guess you didn’t need it.” 

“Why did you do it? Why me?” I said reaching out and putting my hand on his right cheek. I didn’t know what I was doing. For one thing, I didn't care that he was still with Katie Bell. It just seemed so natural to have his skin against mine. I was living in the moment. Besides, he was the one who took my hand; it's not like I'm going to sit there and pretend like it never happened. I could hear Annabell in my ear, urging me on. Something inside me told me that this was it. This was the moment where Oliver bloody Wood tells me that he is in love with me and wants to drop Katie to run away with me. I could see Oliver jumping on top of me, ignoring that my ribs were ever hurt and snog me senseless. After I had my way with him, he'd whisper into my ear that he already bought a house in our name and he wanted 3 children, Mitchell, Felicity and Beatrice. Of course, we would raise them to play quidditch, but that was besides the point.

"Wood, where the hell is my sister?"

The opposite of my dream occured - Oliver's expression changed in a split second. It was no longer full of concern; it was an expression of pure shock. Instantly he scooted away from me, making my hand that I had put on his cheek fall down to the bed spread below. It hit with a clunk. He was no longer relaxed; his muscles tensed as his hand let go of my own. Wood proceeded to root himself up from the bed and turn his back to me. My parted lips that were waiting a passionate kiss clamped together.

"It's what any person would have done," he muttered.

I tried not to cry as my brother burst into the room.


Well, not so yay.

At the last minute, I decided to change the ending. Trust me, it will make the next chapters even better.

Reviews would be nice!

Track This Story: Feed

Write a Review

out of 10


Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.

Register Today!