It was her fifth year at Hogwarts. Angelina Johnson was excited. This would be Oliver Wood's final year as Captain and Keeper for the Gryffindor team. This would be their year. Angelina had always dreamed of winning the Quidditch Cup. Ever since she first joined the team.
She remembered that day well. It was during her first Flying class.
On Madam Hooch's whistle, Angelina said, "Up!" to her broom. Dutifully, it flew into her hand, fitting perfectly as she wrapped her fingers around the smooth handle. Mounting her broom, she kicked off and took to the skies.
It felt so good to be in the air - she felt so free. Years of worry and stress seemed to fall away as she flew laps around the pitch.
He watched her.
She knew he was watching.
He loved her smile.
She grinned and became even more of a dare-devil, dodging the bludgers someone had released. She looped around the goal posts, other students and, playfully, she dove towards him, only to shoot under and up around him.
He blushed, eyes shining, as he watched her fly away. She turned to stick her tongue out at him, and that's when it all went downhill.
Two bludgers someone had stupidly released decided to hone in on her as their target.
He saw it as if it were in slow-motion. Horror-struck, his face went pale as he turned his broom to dive straight at her.
She only knew two things: she was sticking her tongue out at him, and then he tackled her.
His broom collided with hers as he tackled her to the ground. He was tall and muscular, easily able to push her broom down with his weight.
She gasped when she realized he was on her broom. Then she felt pain as they hit the ground.
She was shorter than him and so thin. It was easy to get to her and push her down. The tricky part had been to get on her broom so she would roll over and no longer be the target of the bludgers. He forced his weight to point the broom to the grass, hoping for a safe landing. If he timed it right he could flip them over so she would land on him and the bludgers would go after the broom.
It had worked. Ignoring the bludgers colliding with the broom she had used, he focused on her.
He looked at her, lying on top of him. And he smiled.
He had met her on the train, but they hadn't talked for long. She was so pretty and she had smiled up at him. At him, of all people! He often wondered if she had known what she was doing.
He brushed away the hair from her face and cradled her body against his chest. Gently picking her up, he walked to the Hospital Wing, forgetting the rest of class and the sleeping Hooch.
It was her first in a string of seemingly never-ending visits to Madam Pomfrey.
And she never forgot any of them. No matter what, he always found her.
And each night, he would sit with her. Just Mont. Just Johnson.
But when everyone else left, they would be Graham and Ange.
He would hold her hand as she fell asleep. Smiling and peaceful.
Because of him.
