Title: All Bets
Author: Daeleniel Shadowphyre
Feedback: darkone2813 at mindspring dot com
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: General, Romance, Futurefic
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry Potter/Oliver Wood
Summary: After the game between Puddlemere United and the Ballycastle Bats, the Seeker for the Bats and the Keeper for United have some unfinished business.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and related characters and themes belong to JK Rowling. This is a non-profit work of fiction.
Notes: A cheer-up drabble for Nell-chan. Word count, 450. So I overshot the projected limit. I doubt she's complaining.
Dedication: To Nell-chan-- hope this brightens your day!
Distribution: Ask, and ye shall receive.
The game was over. Puddlemere United had won against the Ballycastle Bats, despite the Bat's Seeker having caught the Snitch. If anyone had questioned the game's attendees, there would have been a number of differing opinions on the actual catalyst of the win, but it would have been unanimously agreed that Puddlemere's Keeper, Oliver Wood, was to be commended (or cursed, depending on the person's team loyalty) for once again living up to his moniker of 'the Wall of Wood'.
The locker rooms for Puddlemere United were remarkably clear of post-game well-wishers. The few that did linger eyed the dark haired man with interest and vague suspicion as he strode purposefully down the hall. The black robes made him look imposing, piercing emerald eyes searching out his quarry yet remaining alert for potential threats. He'd not changed from his own robes, so the blood red bat adorning his chest was quite visible, garnering the suspicion from the fans and outright grins from the players he encountered.
A stray sound caught the man's attention, and he altered his course slightly, approaching the showers without hesitation. In the doorway, he paused, nodding absently to the two Chasers still changing into everyday robes, before turning his attention to the gloriously half-nude form of the Keeper. He watched the other man for a moment, eyes caressing the lines of his back and lingering over the fall of unbound brown hair in ways he could not have during the game.
'Congratulations on your team's win, Wood,' the man said after a moment. His quarry stiffened and abruptly turned to stare at him, startled brown eyes meeting amused green. The two Chasers glanced at each other, then gathered their equipment and scurried out, grinning widely.
'Thank you, Potter,' the Keeper said after a moment. His own eyes were drawn as always to the striking figure the other made in his Quidditch robes; pale, black hair pulled back from his face in a braid, eyes free of the glasses that had hidden them in school, and so very in control. 'And congratulations on your deft capture of the Snitch.'
'My thanks,' Harry said, inclining his head slightly. 'However, I believe in accordance to the terms of our bet, I now owe you dinner, do I not?'
'You do,' Oliver agreed. He shrugged into his everyday robes absently, drawing a flicker of green regard that made him shiver slightly. 'Although I have to wonder what you may have planned to do with me after dinner.' Harry smirked slightly at the hint of question in his friend and partner's voice.
'Oh, Oliver,' he purred, eliciting a stronger shiver from Oliver, 'when it comes to that, all bets are off.'