✧✦✧

SPARKS FLY

act one  ━  chapter fourteen

. . . . . .

━ MORGAN SAMUELS ━
november 1993

MORGAN HAD BECOME SO OBSESSED WITH THE IDEA THAT HERBERT FLEET knew she was Gryffindor's new Quidditch prodigy (not even remotely true) that she hadn't realised that, with the passing of Halloween, it was now November. And November meant the start of the season. She had enjoyed practices that seemed to have no end goal. Ignorance was bliss, after all. But that was over now and it was time to get serious.

Kidding!

Morgan was moderately good at Quidditch. No, she was no Alicia Spinnet or Angelina Johnson and she was certainly not as good as the Chasers on the other houses' teams but she was not terrible. She had had enough practices since her first one because the Gryffindor v Slytherin match was looming and that was terrifying but honestly? Not her problem. She was just a reserve and she had already done the most important thing: show Herbert that they were both good enough to represent their houses and that when Hufflepuff don't win the cup because Gryffindor do, he'll know that she was a part of it. And that was good enough for her.

As far as she was concerned, nothing about this year was weird. Apart from the Scottish seventh-year sitting opposite her in the library as the two of them completed their respective homework. That was weird.

Morgan didn't usually study with anyone. In fact, she had made sure to be in the library at different times to her friends so that they never bumped into each other and she would no longer have the solitude needed to study.

But she had never studied with Oliver before and she was willing to give him a chance when he asked her what she was doing the morning of the fifth of November. He had plans for them later in the day but there was something hidden inside of him that was nudging at his consciousness to spend time with Morgan alone before they were bombarded with the chaos of the Weasley twins and the rest of the Quidditch team in a non-sport setting later that day.

All was well as they studied (very, very quietly, he might add) until it wasn't when they were interrupted by Morgan's friends.

"What the fuck is this?"

Morgan felt herself freeze in her seat. Kira's voice was not only one she was very accustomed to hearing but it was also very loud and travelled quite far. There was no doubt who was now standing at the foot of her and Oliver's table.

She slowly turned her head to the right to see her entire friendship group (bar herself, of course) staring at her expectantly. Kira laid her freshly manicured fingertips on the table.

Morgan gulped but she didn't say anything, feeling too caught that her throat went tight.

"Am I not allowed to be in the library?"

Oliver's question reminded her of his existence and it made her being in the library look that much worse from the perspective of her friends.

"Do you seriously never come here?" Morgan asked, genuinely curious. It appeared, he knew very little about how the library operates because of course was allowed to be there, no matter how much Kira was making him feel unwelcome.

Oliver shook his head and he looked almost terrified.

"Never mind," Morgan said, redirecting her attention to her friends, "I think I know what they're getting at."

"Good," Kira said.

"Sorry, what's going on?" Oliver asked.

"Morgan never lets anyone study with her," Edie explained.

"She cares too much about the work she's doing and she thinks we're too much of a distraction," Casper added.

"Which you are."

"Which we're not."

"Morgan has chosen homework over us for years," Bea added, folding her arms across her chest as if sizing Morgan up. "But apparently, she has her favourites."

Morgan knew it made her look like a bitch and maybe she was one, but one quick look back at the times she did used to study with her friends, reminded her why she had put these rules in place. "If I was with you guys," she said, before picking them off one by one with a pointed finger, "Kira would be chewing her gum too loudly, Casper would be making parchment aeroplanes, Edie would be humming, and Bea would be drumming with her quill."

Greg poked his head through the gap between Casper and Bea to make himself known. "What about me?"

"You're actually a great person to study with, but I didn't want to choose you and then not them."

Greg smiled, mildly proud of himself before slunking back to where he was hidden at the back of the group.

Kira still didn't get what Morgan was saying and narrowed her eyes in the latter's direction. "What's your point?"

"Oliver hasn't said a single thing since we sat down."

Kira puckered her lips. "You trained your pet well then?"

"Kira!"

Oliver found it all somewhat amusing but Morgan clearly didn't, and so he decided to explain to the group why he indeed had not said a single thing since he and the Gryffindor had sat down in the library. "She just looks so focused, I'm almost scared."

"This is why we don't study with her anymore," Kira told him.

A crease formed between his brows. "I thought you said she wouldn't let you─"

"Can you go back to being quiet please, Wood?" Kira snapped, evidently feeling trapped that she had been proved wrong and opted to shut Oliver up so it wouldn't happen again.

Oliver's head snapped to Morgan. "She's scary," he mouthed.

Morgan was distraught that she didn't have the time nor space to properly laugh at the fact that Oliver Wood, leen Scottish Quidditch Captain, was scared of Kira Fleet ─ crafter, hamster mother, and Hufflepuff.

She quickly mouthed back: "You get used to it."

Taking a breath to gather her composure to make sure she was the mature one in this argument, Morgan folded her arms delicately over one another on the table and turned back to her friends. "I'm sorry, guys. I get lonely studying and thought I'd see if I could find a new silent study buddy."

Casper barked out a laugh. "And you landed on the Scot?"

"We're actually not all loud, that's a misconception," Oliver said. Morgan thought it was adorable how he looked so shy as he defended himself.

"You're a Quidditch Captain ─ I've heard your yelling from my dorm room," Casper counted. Pausing before then adding: "Under the Black Lake."

"That's the exception."

Sensing some tensions that would probably be best aired out, Morgan said with a forced smile. "You're welcome to sit with us if it means that much to you."

"Yes, it does, actually," Kira replied, wasting no time sliding into the seat next to Morgan, the rest of the group following suit, unloading their bags onto the desk.

Morgan was sort of hoping that her insulting choice of Oliver over them would mean they stormed off, cutting their noses off to spite their face, but apparently, not and now she would just have to put up with the consequences of her own actions, trying to focus on her assignment instead.

Bea had taken up the spot next to Oliver and was now saying to him, in sheer fascination: "I can't believe you study in silence too."

"It is a library, Fisher," Greg said to her over the table.

"Shut it, Roy, I'm talking to the newbie."

Creases broke out on Oliver's face. "I've been here longer than you?"

Bea had already forgotten what they were talking about and cocked her head and said: "What?"

Oliver looked at Morgan. She shrugged, telling him with her body language to just ignore them. And as much as he would like Bea to know that he was no newbie and was indeed a year older than all of them, he decided it best not to. He thought what she meant was that he was new to their friendship group if he was ever invited into it.

Instead, he addressed Bea's first query: "I actually haven't been studying," he said, earning him a confused look from Morgan. "I wanted to ask her a question about my History assignment but since Morgan gave a death stare to a first-year so scary he ran out, I've just been doodling."

"I was wondering why you were writing so big."

Casper's bottom lip enveloped his top and he held a playful hand to his chest. "Another hath fallen to Morgan Samuels' wrath."

Even when Morgan was rolling her eyes, only minutely embarrassed at her friend's comment, Oliver thought it was sweet. Because of the daggers she was shooting Casper, Morgan never did figure out why Oliver couldn't stop smiling at her.

❋❋❋

NOVEMBER FIFTH 1605 WAS A PINNACLE NIGHT IN BRITISH HISTORY. Fred and George Weasley had told Morgan that it was the most important night of the year. Not only because (if the school calendar worked out) it was usually only a couple of days before the first match of the season (Gryffindor V Slytherin) so they could kick off the Quidditch season in style but also because, in their own words, fireworks are Fred and George's thing. Clearly, it was a night made for them.

When Morgan asked them: "What's so special about bonfire night?"

Fred shrugged and said, "Things go boom," and that was pretty much the end of the conversation.

But Firework Night was a special day for Oliver Wood for a different reason. When he first made the team in his second year, his then-captain treated them all to a butterbeer in Hogsmeade as a final team meeting before the season began. Little him was terrified and was the youngest student on the team but that day in the Three Broomsticks solidified his love for being on a team and representing a house with a group of people who loved it all just as much as him.

Since then, he was appointed captain and adopted the tradition of taking his team out for butterbeer just like his old captain had. His funds may be low the majority of the year but he always put aside enough for November Fifth.

When he approached the new members of his team about this tradition he was met with grateful smiles and even some awhs. Until he told Morgan as they were walking back to their common room after their library study session.

"That's so sweet," she said, before surprising him with a chirpy: "Have fun!"

Oliver was so blinded by confusion that he almost missed her as she happily skipped to the dorm stairs. "No, Morgan," he called out, only just grabbing her attention before she disappeared up the spiral stairs, "you're coming too."

Her hair fell in front of her face as she stared down at him. He stood on the bottom step, craning his neck to look up at the girl a couple of steps above him. Her brows furrowed for just a second. "But I'm not on the team?"

Oliver's laugh travelled right up the echoey stairs. He scratched the nape of his neck. "Morgan, yes you are."

"I'm a reserve." And just by the scrape of her teeth, for that matter.

"A reserve for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I take the whole team out for butterbeer, not just the first players."

"Oh," she said, her eyes wandering as she pieced together this information as if it was the first time she was absorbing this fact. She descended the few stairs between them, underestimating how close this would make them by the time they were on the same narrow step.

Oliver could smell her coconut shampoo and the lavender perfume she dowsed herself in after practice. Her cheeks were flushed and she tucked the strands of hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear.

"You shouldn't have said anything," she told him.

"And why is that?" He asked.

Morgan shrugged. "It could have saved you a couple of galleons." She was almost surprised he didn't tell her ─ it was one less person to pay for, is the way she saw it.

"What if I said I wanted you there?"

Morgan bit her lip to suppress her smile. "In that case, I'll be there."

❋❋❋

"NINE."

"No, fucking way, dipshit."

"Sorry, I have a little faith in him."

The more time she spent with them, the more Morgan Samuels learnt about the Weasley twins. Their dynamic, their interests, and how many bets they placed.

Somehow, she found herself wedged in between them on the small booth Oliver had reserved for his team in the Three Broomsticks, as they debated how many pints of butterbeer the captain could carry in one journey. Morgan wanted to say they should offer him their help so that he didn't have to make multiple trips from their booth back to the bar and then back again. But she didn't think they'd appreciate her generosity, especially since their entire bet was reliant on Oliver getting the whole team their drinks alone.

"The answer is six, max," Fred asserted, scoffing at his twin's optimism.

Morgan was trying to listen in on the conversation Alicia and Angelina were having at the other end of the table (because, most likely, their conversation had a little more maturity to it) but they were too far away and she was quite literally sandwiched in between the brothers who made their conversation hers too. Even if she didn't want that. Or ask for it.

Evidently, Fred Wealsey didn't much care for what made Morgan uncomfortable because he turned to her, out of nowhere, and said, "What about you, Samuels? What do you think?"

Morgan had not thought about it. Even when they had been discussing this topic for the last fifteen minutes. To shut them up, she said, "Nineteen."

Both of them pinned her to her seat with a glare. Her eyes flicked from one to the other, and the more she did this, the more they appeared to be one person. She felt concussed.

Eventually, George shrugged. "So she doesn't want to play."

"Can you blame her?"

Morgan didn't even notice Oliver approaching the table. She was so distracted with differentiating which one was Fred and which one was George that she didn't even see him leave the bar.

Neither did the twins apparently, because their eyes widened at the sudden appearance of the Scot.

Morgan quickly learned that their shock wasn't at his arrival but at the number of pints, he had carried over to them.

Fred instantly ignored Oliver's comment and stared at where Oliver was placing the tankards of the foamy buttery substance on the table before them. "Mate, two pints? Just two? I thought you were supposed to be athletic?"

"Pathetic," George muttered. "And you call yourself our captain?"

Oliver's eyes quickly flew to find Morgan's. She shook her head to indicate it would be best if he just ignored everything that came out of their mouths. That was what she was learning to do at least.

"I'll be out with the rest in a sec," he told the table, as Fred and George claimed the two pints he had delivered as their own.

Once Oliver had collected the nine drinks from the bar he kindly paid for and they were now with those waiting in the booth, he stood at the edge of the table, glass in hand. He held his butterbeer up to his team, the golden liquid slushing about in foamy waves, before toasting. "To the new season. May it─"

"Be better than others?" Harry finished for Oliver. When the captain spared him a tired look, Harry backed down and mouthed his apology so Oliver could continue.

"Yes, thank you, Harry," Oliver sighed. "May it be better than others and be the best yet. Not to put any pressure on you guys but it is my last year at Hogwarts and therefore the last chance I will get at winning the Quidditch Cup. Again, no pressure but we have to win."

The team went silent. Fred was already sipping on his butterbeer and Morgan was pretty sure she saw Katie gulp from where she was barely sitting on the booth but rather clinging onto the edge. Morgan couldn't imagine what it would have been like for Oliver to confirm that his ex-girlfriend was still invited to his annual November Fifth get-togethers. Nor what it would have been like when she actually showed up.

After a very awkward pause, Oliver lifted his glass a little higher. "Cheers!" He exclaimed and the rest of the group followed suit.

"Isn't this just the sweetest tradition ever, Morgan?" Fred asked her after their first sip, while Oliver crammed himself on the end of the booth beside George.

Morgan's mouth opened instantly. The answer to that question came quickly but as she studied Fred's face more, the way his smile was not at all genuine and the way he scrunched his face up in fake delight, she realised he was being sarcastic.

But when Morgan looked over at Oliver who was currently immersed in a conversation with Angelina, despite the girl being right across the table ─ the lengths he goes to in order to avoid conversation with the Weasley twins ─ she saw how truly happy he was to be surrounded by people who shared the same passion as him.

He sipped his drink, leaving his upper lip foamy. There was something particularly sweet about the way he sheepishly wiped it away, thinking no one saw, and suddenly, Morgan cared less about what Fred and George thought, and more about how Oliver Wood deserved to know how appreciated his act of kindness was.

She turned to Fred, smiling wide and holding her pint up to cheers. "It certainly is."

❋❋❋

MORGAN IS PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE THAT FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY WERE NOT JOKING. November fifth was indeed quite the spectacle because their fireworks certainly did go boom.

The night was a big hit all around. While being so close to the Black Lake only made the chilly November air a little bit colder, the slow lapping of the waves made for a lovely backdrop against an atmospheric crowd. The fireworks didn't seem to stop ─ explosions of every colour imaginable, like paint splattering on a black canvas. Drinks were flowing, blankets softened the gravel bank, and one student had even organised with the elves in the kitchens to provide a churros stand, so there was even an unlimited supply of Spanish doughnuts.

It was nice for one night to just be kids and have an excuse to watch pretty fireworks and eat crappy food.

"So," Bea singsonged as she, Morgan and Casper went to get a churros from the stand. She was poking Casper in the shoulder intermittently, and he cringed, fearing what was coming next. "How's Edie?"

"She's right over there," Casper pointed to where the group had snagged a great spot right by the water. "Why don't you go and ask her yourself?"

"You know what she means," Morgan said as they moved one spot closer in the queue.

Casper cocked his head to the side. "Do I?"

Bea popped her hip and folded her arms over her chest. "I am more than willing to go right up to the girl and tell her that you're desperately in love with her─"

"And have been since you were pre-pubescent," Morgan added with a finger to the air.

"Exactly right," Bea nodded before continuing, "if you're not going to do it yourself."

Casper paused for a second, deliberating if it was worth lying, but ultimately concluded they would see right through him. Eventually, he slouched where he stood and ran a hand through his dark locks. "I can't tell her."

Morgan and Bea exchanged glances before the latter spoke up. "And why the fuck not?"

"It'd make things too complicated," he sighed.

Morgan had never seen Casper Romero so unspirited. He was brazenly cool all the time but she supposed, when it came to his potentially unrequited love for his childhood best friend, he couldn't keep up the act.

Bea wasn't as sympathetic. "So what you're just going to love her on the sidelines for the rest of your life? Watch her get married and have a family with someone else?"

"Beatrice, we're seventeen ─ maybe start spouting that shit if I'm still in love with her in ten years."

"I take love very seriously."

"You've never been in a relationship," Morgan pointed out.

"Did that do you any favours?" Bea asked with a quirked brow as they reached the front of the queue.

Morgan inhaled sharply. "Okay, so that's the end of that conversation." She clapped her hands together and willed herself to forget about the fact that Herbert Fleet was the one that made her love love and now he's the one that makes her hate it.

With the topic of romance off the table, to both Morgan and Casper's delight, Bea started talking about her unexpected love for the Weasley twins just as they were paying for the churros.

"What's Briar doing so close to the fireworks?" Bea asked as the three of them turned to return to their group. It was quite a nonchalant question since she was shovelling churos into her mouth but as the rest of the group started to investigate, it became more than nonchalant.

When Morgan looked over at where the Weasley twins were stocking crates of fireworks, Briar was sneaking around the back and wedging one of the crates open with a crowbar.

"Yeah, I swear only the twins are allowed to operate them?" Greg pointed out as he accepted his doughnut as if on auto-pilot, consumed by what could happen next.

They had all received letters about firework safety weeks ago because the school knew how seriously wizards took November fifth. It was specifically mentioned that unauthorised personnel were not to operate the unlit fireworks. How Fred and George counted as authorised personnel, Morgan did not know, but that's how it had always been, she supposed.

No matter if Fred and George were idiots, fireworks were just about the only thing they took seriously and they had done an amazing job of organising this night since they were second years. Briar Carmen should be nowhere near the store, especially since they had been stored so far away from the crowd for good reason.

Before anyone could ask her what she was doing, it was too late.

Her wand was lit, the flame glowing against a dark background, and the firework, once in her hand, was shooting low to the ground, right towards the crowd.

It was only small but it was flying at lethal speeds, sprouting sparks of red, spiralling way out of control. Even Briar looked panicked as it left her hands but it was just as little in her control as anyone else's.

Luckily, people were quick enough to disperse, darting as far as they could away from the firework's path of destruction. Unluckily, however, since everyone was so preoccupied with getting themselves to safety, no one thought to whip out their wands and interject the firework on its journey.

Right into Alicia Spinnet.

Despite her friends' best efforts to haul their group towards the gravelled floor, the firework still made contact, grazing her shoulder and sending her to the ground nonetheless. Once Alicia's body acted as an obstacle, the firework dwindled in power and crashed into the rocks on the bank of the lake. But the damage had already been done.

As Alicia's cries of pain shot through the now deathly silent wooded area, those who were too far to comfort her but had seen the culprit launch her weapon began scolding the Gryffindor for her out-of-pocket choice of actions.

A chorus of "woah" and "holy shit" and "what did Alicia do to you?" rang out across the lake until chaos ensued. Leo Raywood wasted no time picking his girlfriend up and carrying her back to the castle for medical attention and Fred and George didn't hesitate to make it clear to their audience that whatever the fuck just happened, wasn't their doing.

"Carmen, what the fuck?!" Fred chastised as he and his brother approached Briar who's cheeks had turned a shade of crimson as she held her hands up in surrender looking a lot like a deer in the headlights.

"I honestly did not mean to─"

But before Briar could plead her case, the approaching professors and the stern looks of the Weasley twins shut her up.

The unharmed students didn't quite know how to react. A shock wave had rattled them but the question of whether the festivities continued or not lingered in the air. Morgan's obvious thought was that they absolutely should not but since only half the students were packing up their things, the others hovering to see the delinquent get punished, it was clear to her that not everyone shared her views.

"Well I did not see that coming," Casper muttered before biting off the head of Edie's churros since he had rapidly eaten his own.

As the group descended into murmured gossip about the latest breaking news, Morgan watched the Gryffindor team follow their fallen soldier towards the help of Madam Pomfrey, under the impression that this had nothing to do with her and that it was best she hoped for Alicia's recovery from a safe distance.

But just as he was walking passed, Oliver's fingers folded around her upper arm and he said, concern furrowing his brows, "You better come with us."

❋❋❋

MORGAN'S IMPOSTER SYNDROME AS A MEMBER OF THE GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH TEAM reached a new high as they all waited to hear news of Alicia's condition. Only the team and Alicia's boyfriend, Leo, who had not stopped crying since she was admitted, were allowed inside the hospital wing and Morgan had never felt more out of place. Not only was she not very close with Alicia yet (a fact she planned to change) but everyone around her was very close to her and were seeking comfort in each other.

After ten minutes of chaos, Madam Pomfrey asked people to give her space all while Alicia yelled out in pain. Morgan thought it was all too much and excused herself, letting Oliver know of her absence.

When she exited the hospital wing, a rather large portion of the Gryffindor house was camped outside. All eyes jumped on Morgan as she quietly shut the door behind her. Since she didn't know much about Alicia's wounds, only that she was in a lot of pain, and because she didn't feel like it was her place to speak for the injured girl, Morgan just smiled sheepishly and hurried over to where her friends were huddled in a corner.

"So?" Bea asked hastily.

"I don't know but it doesn't sound good," Morgan responded, Alicia's wails were the only indication of her well-being.

"Well if she's not ready for tomorrow's game then what are you going to do?" Casper asked.

"What everyone else does," Morgan shrugs. "We have reserves for a reason."

"So you're completely fine with playing tomorrow?" Casper's brows knitted together. If he wasn't convinced, as the Quidditch prodigy in their group, the rest followed suit and all slowly turned to look at Morgan.

Morgan laughed out loud. "I'm second reserve, Casper. Briar will be playing, not me. I guess it's just the consequences of─"

"Briar just got suspended."

Edie's words made Morgan's world stop spinning.

"What?!"

If trying not to draw any more attention to herself was Morgan's main aim, she was failing rather abysmally.

"She wasn't supposed to touch the fireworks," Greg told her. "Fred and George have some license from the school or whatever. She confessed to deliberately messing with them. I don't know if she meant to cause harm to Alicia or someone else . . ."

But Greg's words were drowned out by reality kicking its way into Morgan's mind. Playing in a game wasn't just a concept anymore or a distant possibility ─ it was highly likely if Alicia wasn't fit enough.

After two minutes of staring into space as if she had just been told she has been given a life sentence (tomayto, tomahto), Edie jabbed her friend in the shoulder to point out where Oliver was now poking his head through the hospital wing doors.

Oliver ushered her over, and, trying desperately to pull together any semblance of composure, Morgan shuffled over to him where he held the door open for her and shut it once she was inside.

"How is she?" Morgan frantically asked.

Oliver ran a hand through his hair and right down his neck until it tugged on his shoulder. "Not great," he said on an exhale. "She's got some pretty bad burns on her arm. It's in a cast and she's struggling to lift it."

Morgan was internally cursing herself for her nonchalant approach to practice these past weeks. "And what does that mean for tomorrow's game?" Morgan asked worriedly. Although, she was pretty sure she knew the answer to the question already.

Oliver sighed. Despite his confidence in Morgan and maybe the soft spot he had developed for her, he was sort of relying on his first team to be able to play the first, and therefore, most important match of the season.

But alas, it was not looking good.

"You're in, Samuels."