Pride and Prejudice

By The Bunnies Will Kill Us All

A/N: This story is set in an alternate universe in which Percy does not marry Audrey and Oliver is the starting Keeper for Puddlemere United. Further, Marcus Flint is related to Borgin of Borgin and Burke's. Roger Davies is a second string Quidditch player and he has a sister named Mircella. Likewise, Oliver has a sister named Maggie. There are other parallels to draw, but this is going to get too long if I continue.

Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged that a superstar Quidditch player in possession of a vast fortune must be in want of a wife. Much like it is a truth universally acknowledged that said wife should have a sister capable of driving said superstar's proud, stuffy best friend up the wall. PWOC. OWOC.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter. This story's title and the rough course of events are all appropriated from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. I do, however, own my original characters (Alexis, Bridget, the Somerleds, Mircella and Maggie).

Chapter One: Tolerable

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a superstar Quidditch player in possession of a vast fortune must be in want of a wife.

At least, that is what Mrs. Somerled incessantly drilled into her three unwed daughters.

The eldest, Bridget, was particularly beautiful. She had the loveliest features by far, and in that pretty face sat a pair of twinkling blue eyes – the only trait she had inherited from her mild, sombre father. Framing her face were long, curly gold locks.

Furthermore, Bridget Somerled was one of the most gentle-natured people you could ever have the pleasure of meeting.

Her sister, Alexis Somerled, consequently felt the compulsion to protect her lovely sister from all the evils of the world. She herself was similarly pretty, but where Bridget's eyes were blue hers were dark brown. And her hair, though identical to her sister's in colour, was relatively straight and fine.

Quinella, the youngest, was her mother all over. Compulsively silly and a notorious flirt, it took the combined efforts of both her sisters to restrain her. Like her sisters, she had gold hair.

"Oh, Simon, did you hear?" Mrs. Somerled asked excitedly of her husband, chopping onions with unusual vim and vigour for someone who so notoriously complained about having to do the task 'the muggle way'. "Did you hear the exciting news from town?"

"No, but I suspect I'm about to," Mr. Somerled said mildly, reluctantly setting his paper down.

"The estate next to ours and all its acreage has been sold," she paused for dramatic effect, "to a young man."

"Alert the press, they're going to want to run that on the front page." Was Mr. Somerled's wry response.

Mrs. Somerled swatted her husband with a dishcloth. "Oh, Simon, don't tease, you know it vexes me!"

"All too well, my dear," he said with twinkling eyes, "all too well."

His daughter, Alexis, stifled a knowing grin.

"The estate hasn't just been bought by any young man," Mrs. Somerled explained. "Our new neighbour is none other than Oliver Wood!"

"The captain of Puddlemere United?" Quinella asked, her eyes as round as galleons. "The handsome, Scottish one?"

Alexis rolled her eyes at her sister's amazement, eliciting a smile from her like-minded father, who took every available opportunity to disdain his wife and youngest daughter.

Simon Somerled had married Natalie Stallet, as she had been then, when they were both rather young. He himself was generally known as a witty, mild kind of man – but his youthful shallowness had doomed him to a marriage bereft of respect.

"The very same, child!" Mrs. Somerled confirmed. "And its rumoured that he's been scouted to play for Scotland in the Quidditch World Cup! Imagine, one of my daughters married to an internationally ranked Quidditch player!"

Even the ever-kind Bridget had trouble hiding her exasperation at these words. "Mother, I don't think-"

"I'll hear no negativity!" Mrs. Somerled said threateningly. "You'll never get a husband if you insist on being a nay-sayer!"

"Says the woman who predicted I would die a lonely spinster on the day I was born," Alexis muttered, drawing the disapproving gaze of her mother.

"Don't be smart, Alexis," her mother chided, "it's rude."

"Yes, Alexis, farbeit for you to point out empirical facts." Said Mr. Somerled, resuming his reading. "You should know better by now."

Alexis stifled another smirk. Bridget shook her head hopelessly, glancing between her father and her mother, not wanting to offend either party.

"The point is," Mrs. Somerled said, "that a famous, handsome, rich Quidditch player has moved to Christchurch, and I want him for one of our girls."

"Hear that, girls? Your mother is content to sell you off like cattle for a bit of fame." Mr. Somerled said. "Alexis, darling, do you feel the keen sting of your mothers betrayal?"

"All too well," Alexis replied wryly, her brown eyes alight with mirth.

"I imagine you shall bear it with the utmost grace." He smiled.

"Naturally." She grinned. "It is, of course, the primary skill I learnt from said mother."

Mrs. Somerled beamed at this, having no notion that she had just been soundly insulted. Her oblivion made the joke all the more enjoyable to her husband, who chuckled and refolded his paper, resigning himself to the fact that, yes, they were having this conversation.

"The fact, remains, my dear," Mr. Somerled explained slowly, "that you are not capable of forcing two young people who have never met to marry against their will."

"Well, you'll have to pay the young man a visit and introduce us, of course," Mrs. Somerled said dismissively. "And then he shall fall madly in love with one of our girls."

Mr. Somerled raised an eyebrow. "I have to call on this young man?"

"Of course!"

"I'll not do it."

And with those four words, Mr. Somerled condemned his household to a solid week of misery.

It was not that Alexis did not love her mother, she did. It was just that ones nerves tended to fray after five days of hearing about how she and her sisters would die maids. Bridget felt it would not have been helpful to point out that Quinella at least was certainly not a maid, and dutifully prevented Alexis from letting that particular fact slip.

It was all because Mr. Somerled would not go and visit Oliver Wood, and Alexis found herself wishing that the superstar had never even dreamt of moving to Christchurch. Bridget, of course, duly reminded Alexis that Oliver Wood hadn't actually done anything to warrant her bad opinion.

The two elder sisters had taken refuge from their mother in the upstairs drawing room.

Though the rest of their house was relatively small, that particular room managed to feel spacious somehow. Wide windows gave a sweeping view of the property's acreage, including the little stream that eventually ran down to the sea. The walls were lined with books and a fire always roared merrily at the hearth. It was easily Alexis' favourite place.

"You'd think I was finger painting, the way she disregards it," she complained sourly, "I'm writing a resume for the job of my dreams, and all she can talk about is Oliver Wood."

"She grew up differently to us," Bridget said gently, "it's strange for her to think about us having careers of our own."

"Still," Alexis stressed, "this apprenticeship with Ollivander is my one shot to become a wand-maker. Which, y'know, is just my life's ambition."

"You'll be fantastic," Bridget smiled reassuringly, all dimples, "you've worked so hard, you just have to have a little faith."

"And a little quiet," Alexis muttered mutinously. The parchment in front of her was possibly the most beautifully written document she'd ever produced. I just hope it's enough, she thought.

Bridget had an article to write for The Christchurch Chronicle, where she worked as an editorial journalist, and thus the two sisters descended into companionable silence.

Nothing but the scratching of quills punctuated the silence, that was, until a shrill shriek of glee startled the two girls from their productive reverie.

"Mum..." Alexis said darkly. "I swear, if she's done anything-"

Quinella burst into the room, all excitement. "Oh, Lexy, Bridget, you'll never guess!"

Bridget smiled at her youngest sister. "What is it, Quin?"

Quinella flung her arms around a reluctant Alexis, giggling gleefully as she did. "Dad went to see Oliver Wood!"

Alexis struggled from her sister's vice-like grip. "Oh, good, maybe we'll finally get some peace."

"That isn't all!" Quinella said. "He's invited us to his house-warming party!"

Alexis blinked. "I can barely contain my joy."

"That was very gracious of him," Bridget said. "When is it?"

"Tonight!"

"Better and better," Alexis muttered.

"We should make the best of this," Bridget said, sensing her sister's reluctance, "if nothing else, it can't hurt to be on good terms with our neighbours."

Alexis accepted the wisdom of her sisters words. The next few hours were spent watching in quiet disapproval as Quinella traipsed around the house raiding their respective closets for something to wear to the party.

"This is not going to end well," she said, mostly to herself.

Alexis didn't dislike parties as a rule.

But she certainly disliked parties which implied a dress code more exacting than jeans and a cute top.

"It's just a dress, it's not going to kill you," Bridget said, smoothing the creases of her own outfit, which was a pretty floral frock with a low back.

"I know it's not going to kill me." Alexis said impatiently. "What a stupid thing to say. I just don't want to go."

"Yet here we are." Bridget said simply, walking over to her reluctant sister and adjusting the strap of her dress, which was dark red and knee-length. "So try and make the best of things."

"That's your thing," Alexis said dismissively. "I'm the brooder."

"Naya will be there, and Axelle," Bridget said, "it won't be so bad."

Alexis nodded. That she was glad of. Naya Asad had been her best friend all through Hogwarts, and Axelle was an exuberant French girl who worked with Bridget at the Chronicle. Their company, at least, would be more than welcome.

"Girls!" Came the shrill cry of their mother. "Hurry, girls! We must be off!"

"Yes, come!" Mr. Somerled called out. "Run towards the sound of wedding bells and general misery! Destiny awaits, my dear daughters! Run into its perilous arms!"

Alexis sighed, and squeezed he sister's hand. In just a few hours, the entire ordeal would be over and life would resume its usual meandering course.

Oliver Wood's newly-purchased estate was a sight to behold, that Alexis could not deny. The exterior was built entirely out of sandstone, and the house itself stood four stories high. She could not help but be impressed as she climbed the estate steps and knocked on the solid mahogany door (few people could have told you it was mahogany, but Alexis intended to be a wand-maker, and thus knew how to distinguish between every kind of wood imaginable).

They were greeted warmly at the door by what she grudgingly admitted was a dutiful and attentive host. Oliver Wood wasn't exactly chattery, but he had an easy way of speaking which one couldn't help but like.

He was certainly an attractive young man, and it was to Mrs. Somerled's delight that Oliver seemed to take an immediate liking to Bridget. She was in turn so taken aback by his attentiveness that she blushed bright red. Alexis grinned at that.

It seemed that almost every magical family in Christchurch had made a point of coming to the party. Her parents quickly found their peers, and her mother immediately began swapping gossip with the other witches. Her father, as usual, took a back seat to the whole production, settling down with a glass of firewhiskey and an old classic. Alexis ached to join him, but she knew her mother would scold her for such behaviour.

Oliver had Bridget firmly engaged in conversation, so Alexis went in search of other acquaintances. She soon found Naya Asad, a pretty girl with skin like cinnamon and raven hair.

"That was quick," said she, gesturing towards Bridget and Oliver, "I've been here for twenty minutes and all I got was 'hello' and 'how are you?'"

"Such is life," Alexis said, "plus, you know how it is with Bridget. She's gorgeous and lovely and unlike us, she doesn't hate the world."

"It seems Oliver is similarly optimistic." Naya observed. "Perhaps we'll get along better with the other one."

Alexis raised her eyebrows. "The other one?"

"Yeah, you know, the house-mate." Naya said. "He's the youngest ever Minister for Magical Transportation. Percy something."

Alexis shook her head. "Mum's going to freak."

"Oliver's sister is living here too." Naya supplied. "Her name is Maggie. She's the one talking with your sister and Oliver, see?"

Alexis nodded, observing the waif-like brunette in question coolly. She didn't know why, but she immediately disliked the girl.

There was much cheering and enthusiasm when the music started, and a great number of couples took it upon themselves to dance. Alexis and Naya opted to watch, greatly enjoying the view they had of Bridget and Oliver's slow waltz.

"I hope I get to be maid of honour," Alexis said mildly. "I totally deserve to after I got that bug out of her room the other day."

Naya laughed. "Oh look," she said, "there's the other one now."

The 'other one', also known as 'Percy something', was a tall red-headed man with a stern expression. Yet somehow, in spite of the horn rimmed glasses and the flaming hair, Alexis did observe that he was an attractive sort of man.

Percy was approached by Oliver, who still held Bridget's hand in his. They were both flushed from dancing, Alexis noted satisfactorially.

The trio approached them, surprisingly, and Alexis found herself growing nervous for some reason.

Bridget beamed at her, and embraced Naya by way of greeting.

"I fear I've been monopolising your sister's attention," Oliver said with a smile, "you will have to forgive me."

"Will I?" Alexis said with humour. "We shall see."

If Oliver was at all put off by this remark he certainly didn't let it show. He laughed easily and turned to Bridget. "I think I shall have to brave your derision, Alexis, but only because the reward is so great."

Alexis was thrilled at what she was seeing. Oliver clearly fancied her sister, and judging by the way Bridget lit up, she was likewise infatuated.

"You've not introduced us to your friend," Naya said pointedly, glancing at Percy no-last-name.

"Of course," Oliver said, "this is my friend and house-mate, Percy Weasley. My co-host for tonight, as it were."

"I am most certainly not your co-host." Percy Weasley said bitterly. "I told you I hate parties."

Oliver did a good job of pretending not to have heard the interjection, but Alexis couldn't help the glint of amusement that found its way into her own gaze. "You've just met Bee," god, Alexis thought, not adorable nicknames already... "well, this is her sister, Alexis. And this is Naya."

Percy nodded curtly. Alexis raised her eyebrow as Naya assured the sullen man that it was a pleasure to meet him.

It certainly is not a pleasure, Alexis thought mutinously to herself. Another person now approached the group, and Alexis recognised her as the girl that Naya had pointed out as being Maggie.

"You must be Bee's sister," Maggie said to Alexis, who nodded, "I'm Maggie, Oliver's sister. It's so nice to meet you."

"And you," Alexis replied somewhat awkwardly, "you have a lovely home."

"Oh, I'm not living her," she said dismissively, "not permanently, anway. I just love spending time with my older brother."

"Of course."

She, Naya, Bridget and Maggie began to converse. Alexis remained aware of Oliver and Percy, however, who stood but a meter away. She overheard snatches of their own hushed conversation.

"... at least try and enjoy yourself," Oliver pleaded.

"I will not," Percy replied resolutely, "I have work to do."

"Look, have a bit of a dance. Alexis is very pretty, ask her."

Percy snorted, as if Oliver had suggested something ridiculous. "She is tolerable, I suppose, but not pretty enough by half to tempt me."

Alexis couldn't help the chuckle of mirth that escaped her lips. Percy, immediately aware that she had heard him, looked puzzled by this response.

Naya had also been listening in, and the two of the walked a short distance, before dissolving into uncontrollable laughter.

Alexis clutched her side and began to tear up, she laughed so hard. Naya was similarly diverted.

"Oh, not pretty enough by half to tempt me," Alexis said, dissolving into giggles halfway through the impersonation.

"She is tolerable, I suppose," Naya said through her own laughter, scrunching up her face in a crude imitation of Percy's.

"Oh stop! I can't feel my face!" Alexis begged, tears streaming down her face now, "so... funny!"

It was then that Axelle Delacour appeared, clearly amused by their antics, and motioned for them to come and sit with her on the lounge. The two semi-hysterical girls complied.

"I demand to know vat iz so funny!" Axelle said good-naturedly in her thick French accent.

"Percy Weasley refused to dance with Alexis," Naya explained, calming down a little, "I mean, maybe you had to be there to get it, but it was funny."

"So funny," Alexis agreed.

"Ah," Axelle smiled, "zat is why he is looking at you with zose confused eyes."

Alexis glanced across the room and saw that Percy Weasley was, in fact, looking at her.

"What a prat," she remarked, silently hoping that he could read lips. "It's a shame he's so horrible when Oliver's so lovely. I would've liked to have spent some time here, otherwise."

"You never know," Naya shrugged, "if Bridget lands herself a certain Quidditch star, you might find yourself spending more time here than you'd think."

"Oh goodie," Alexis grinned, "more heart-wrenching rejections from our good Minister for Magical Transportation. How shall I go on?"

A/N: Review, my lovelies!