Not Your Average Quidditch Player

Chapter 1

It was a summer day like any other north of Essex, hot and humid. Yet there was one boy still inside, sitting at a table with books sprawled all over, writing even on this July day, when no homework was done. For hours the boy searched, writing and reading, strategizing in the heat with no air conditioning available.

At a knock on the door, Oliver looked up.

"It's dinnertime," said his father, turning to leave. Mr. Wood never did like how much his son was involved with his sport and his school. "And that league of yours, their bird left a note for you."

Oliver resigned and ordered his papers up and put them in a drawer under the light on his desk. He had gotten a very good idea for the chasers to try out, all he needed was to test out the speed... But then he remembered what his father said. Hoping for something good, he trotted downstairs.

-x-

"Yes mom, I'll work on it," he said as he raced up the stairs, tearing the seal of his letter and hoping.

"Dear Mr. Wood,

We are delighted to inform you that you have entered the Young Tri-National Quidditch League as a Reserve Keeper on the Wessex Werewolves team. Your first team meeting will be on July 23rd at the Nottingham Dome. If you transport yourself to the train station, you will be greeted by your captain and relocated in the Dome. We hope to see you there.

The Young Tri-national Quidditch League Committee Secretary, Alrich Aldethimer.

"Reserve Keeper?" Oliver exclaimed. "Reserve!?!?" There was no way he was going to incorporate any of his ideas now. He might as well burn them all now, before he got his hopes up. Even Hogwarts...

Hogwarts. Charlie Weasley, the captain of the Gryffindor team, had graduated. So had most of the rest of the team. All he had was Angelina Johnson and Charlie's brothers, the Weasley twins, all going to be third-years, on the team. McGonagall HAD to make him captain, she just had to. He got out his broom, admired it as usual, and went to bed filled with mixed feelings.

-x-

"No, you may NOT go to that quiffle meeting. On your birthday, we spend it as a FAMILY" Mr. Wood barked.

"Quidditch, But dad, it's my own birthday. I'm fifteen tomorrow! When do I get to make my own decisions on what I-" Oliver started, before his father cut him off.

"This is MY house, and you are MY child, you listen to what I say and obey it. And I say you don't go."

"Dear, it may be time to let him make-" started Mrs. Wood.

"No! I will not let him fly around on a piece of magicked splinters in some loony game called quillich."

"Quidditch," Oliver muttered.

"Your sister, now, she had the right of it, playing football and softball like a good girl but still spending time with the family on her birthday!" Oliver groaned. His sister, Willow, was always the perfect child, for she was talented in Muggle sports.

"Dear, maybe he will-"

"I won't allow it!"

Suddenly, his mother's owl, Wey, flew in a dropped a very strange object in her lap.

- - -

"Why can't you keep that bloody thing inside? She can't keep flying in here, some day the neighbors will see it and think we own a menagerie." Mr. Wood exclaimed. "Now as I was saying..."

"The neighbors live a mile away. And if this is what I think it is, you won't need to remember." His mother stated quietly. Oliver was so surprised that she cut him off he almost didn't hear the Message's first words.

"Mrs. Wood, we are pleased to inform you that you have been elected for the International Confederation of Wizards vacated British Seat, congratulations. We wish that you depart immediately, as there is an international breach on law that requires all seats to be filled. We thank you in advance for your consideration and cooperation."

It was signed by about a dozen or so wizards and witches. Oliver looked over and saw his father's mouth agape.

"You're going to thing? In London?"

"Yes."

"Son...go to your meeting. Go!"

Oliver, quite confused, got his broom and his robes, and left with his mother.

-x-

Oliver stood on the field, eyes wide. An international Quidditch field. And he would play on it.

"Oi! Watch your head" shouted a girl zooming around with a club in hand. "You can't get unconscious before the game!" She whacked the Bludger to the other side of the field, where there were two other Beaters practicing. He thanked the girl and walked over to the rings nearest him, where some chasers and keepers were strategizing.

"Hey, I'm Oliver Wood. What are you doing?"

A girl glanced up. "We're working on some moves. What position do you play?"

"Keeper."

"Oh, the reserve. Well, look. We have this new play we want to try where the chasers can dive here," she pointed to a diagram, "and than swerve here, and finally slide over and switch over the Quaffle, flying over each other and turning. The middle one would shoot. You can try it with us, after Burt here works his magic." She pointed to a boy even bigger than him, with muscles everywhere. he figured this was the first string Keeper.

She flew up with two others, a guy and another girl, and warmed up a little before trying. Faster and faster they zoomed, making him dizzy, until she shot, but Burt caught it. Then he yelped.

"That thing nearly broke my arm off!"

"Well, that's kind of the plan, I just didn't think you would catch it. Fine, we'll break his instead." Oliver guessed she meant him, but he wasn't feeling the most comfortable with it. He flew up, jerked around a few times, and positioned himself before the middle ring. The trio flew again, speed increasing, until they threw it. Oliver tried to get it and missed by inches, letting it sail in the left ring.

"Hey, it worked!" shouted the other girl Chaser.

"Let's try it again, I don't think the captain would enjoy any flukes," the lead chaser said.

Again and again they tried. On his fifth time, determined to catch one, he watched them carefully, knowing when to blink. He saw where the aim was and dived just as the Quaffle left her hand. He turned and smacked it a little with his broom tail and caught it as it jumped up.

"Nice edge work, Wood. I see our fault."

His curiosity got the better of him. "What's your name?"

"What? Oh, sorry. You can call me Mel."

"And I'm Relona."

"I'm Nate." This one Oliver recognized as a Ravenclaw boy in his year, Relona looked familiar as well.

"Hi-"

"DUCK!!!" yelled Mel.

- - -

The four of them dropped instantly twenty feet, their reflexes sharp after their play. A Bludger swung by before being jabbed in the other direction. Then a whistle sounded.

"Team! Down! Now!" the captain screamed. When they had landed safely, the captain continued.

"Welcome to the Werewolves, I am Tony, your captain, as you know. This is a high-ranking team, and I don't want our reputation demoralized. Therefore, we will play hard and win. We have nine matches this year- five seasonal, plus playoffs, quarterfinals, semi-finals, and the Cup of the year. We WILL get to the Cup this year. I did not pick a superb team for nothing. And even if you're a reserve, you will play, sometime. We have some new plans, and they need to be done efficiently and menacingly. First-strings, get up there now and work on this plan," he took out a piece of parchment and gave it to a large boy, "and let's see how it works." The boy with the parchment, Burt, Mel, a boy holding two bats, and two others lifted off the ground. "You guys, I need you to give us feedback. But stay fit and alert, if someone is injured you will be expected to know the drills and take over. I want three at a time practicing on the side, work on agility. Okay?" There was a chorus of agreements. "Then MOVE."

Oliver, Nate, and Relona were left to stare after, and decided to practice.

"He's a good captain," Oliver said, enjoying the order in which the labor was applied.

"He's a bit too organized for me," mentioned Nate.

"Organized? But that's basically key to winning! Can you imagine what would happen if we weren't? There'd be chaos everywhere!" Oliver exclaimed, the excitement of handling the ball again getting to him.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," muttered Relona. Oliver widened his eyes. "I wouldn't say that in front of Mel, or you would not be able to fly anymore when she got through with you." Oliver raised his eyebrows.

"You should have seen what she did to that Bird kid." Nate muttered, smiling in memory. Oliver suddenly remembered that boy, a recently graduated 7th year who was in the hospital wing the last three weeks right before exams.

"That was her?" They nodded. "I didn't know she went to Hogwarts."

"She likes to keep it that way. Snape almost forgot her last year, because she didn't go to Potions once in a while, and stays out of the limelight. It's surprising she plays Quidditch, really. But then she is one of Ravenclaw's best chasers." This time it was Relona's time to smile at the memory. Oliver suddenly remembered a chaser who he never got a good look of, but was able to score on him, much to his dislike.

"Do you play on the team, Relona?" he asked.

"No, my sister used to go out with the old Ravenclaw captain, so he hated me. Davies doesn't like me either, and he had an influence on most of the team. I'm too busy with my other school activities anyway. I'm only here because these two forced me to apply," she answered.

"I see," said Oliver, noticing her smile and wishing slightly, to his embarrassment, that he was the cause of it.

-x-

Oliver sat on his seat, waiting anxiously as Mel and Relona worked past the French team to the rings. It was the Championship Cup, and there he was, sitting out like usual. He had only played in one game, the whole time but the captain had caught the snitch very early, so it didn't really count. Burt was a genius on the broom, never losing. Suddenly there was cheering, and he looked up from his thoughts- Relona had scored! He stood up and hollered. He and Relona had gotten pretty close this summer, not playing much but still chatting it up. It surprised Oliver, actually, he didn't have many friends as he was always obsessed with Quidditch, and no one else in his year in Gryffindor cared much for it.

The Fantôms had the Quaffle again, trying to force their way over to Burt. Burt was looking a bit tired, it was a long game and the French team was pretty good. One of their chasers took a shot- Burt caught it. Suddenly, a Bludger came out of nowhere and hit him squarely in the head. He and his broom sailed down about fifty feet before Mel, amazingly enough, caught him. The Quaffle also fell and Relona caught that and threw it to the other chaser to fly off. Then she too went to Mel and took his broom, where they landed on the field as the referee blew the whistle.

"No knocking the Seeker off its broom! Penalty to Werewolves" he said, ignoring the fact that Burt was unconscious. Tony spoke to Relona, who would take the shot, and she waited.

"Wood! Get up here!" Tony called. Oliver jumped on his broom towards them, Mel had left Burt in Nate's attendance, so Relona took the shot with success. Tony was gasping. "Get . . . those . . . rings . . . covered!" And left with a whirl to find the snitch. Oliver flew speedily over to the goals and waited, watching the Quaffle switch hands, back and forth, back and forth, until a Chaser from the other team was only yards in front of him, and shot. Oliver dove-he had shot towards the lower left ring, and reached out and caught it. He threw it to Mel, who disappeared again to the other side. She scored again, making the score about 100 to 60, their lead. Again the Quaffle came back, its possessor weaving in and out of their players. He shot, and this time from half the field away. Oliver saw it fly in a curved pattern, got his knees on the broom and darted, watching it swing, until it was close, he dove in and grabbed it, his feet curved around his broom. He got back up and threw it to Relona, who immediately threw it over to the other chaser, when suddenly the Whistle had blown. Tony had caught the Snitch! They had won!

- - -

"Good job Oli," yelled Mel. "Good job to you too." He replied.

Nate came up to them and started hollering. "You guys were AMAZING! It was spectacular! It was like a weave- everything was so quick it was hard to see until it the Quaffle was shot, it was so awesome." They laughed. Relona flew in and Nate jumped up and hugged her. "Great job, Rel!" "Thanks, you guys were all great." She replied. Oliver watched as Nate let go of her and hugged Mel, feeling as if his warm brown eyes had suddenly gone green. He didn't know how Nate did it, but it seemed all the pretty ones liked him-especially Relona. He couldn't tell what Mel thought, though if he did it would have been shocking. Behind Mel's implausible beauty there was a mind so mysterious it almost covered her outer features.

"So let's go see the Man Of The Hour in his victory speech," Oliver said. Mel raised an eyebrow. "What are YOU giving a speech for?" she asked. Oliver widened his eyes. "I meant Tony." "Ah," she replied, in an unconvincing way. But then again, you could never tell with Mel.

-x-