Conquering the Unconquerable
By: The Brat Prince
A/N: Moony: Slashy slashy slashy. Meaning Oliver Wood is passionately in love with Marcus Flint. Well, not now…but he will be! Please R+R, taking into consideration that new chapters are based on the responses of the reader, flames serve to amuse the author and her friends, and that Harry Potter does not and will never belong to Moony.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Have you ever been to the zoo? Hundreds of animals, locked into their respective environments. There's flamingos and fish, a snake house, panda bears, monkeys, and ferrets. All those creatures that are often considered cute or playful. But the main attractions are never cute or playful or harmless. The real moneymakers are the predators.
It's funny though. You can always tell the predators who have been raised in captivity apart from those who communed with nature early in life. Those predators that mother nature never intended to be trapped in a cage, even if the bars aren't as obvious as those of the snake house or the bird netting over tropical exhibits. Sleek, skillful hunters who know the feel of running with the wind or the taste of the first kill versus lazy capture and raw, dead meat. Hunters who know the taste of blood, and dream about tasting it again. You can tell the predators who captured from the wild apart from that spark in their eyes, reflecting the fire in their souls.
However, as time wears on and memories fade, the spark becomes an ember slowly dying, barely fueled by an image far back in their minds of an open field and the sounds of fearful prey. The alpha male wolf who used to pace wildly, snarling his warning to all who dared glance his way now obediently sits at the zookeeper's feet, eyes glazed over from lack of exercise and too much kibble. The falcon who soared the open skies, casting it's shadow over countless victims before mercilessly swooping in for the kill now dociley hops around on a trainer's arm, no longer incessently pecking at her gloves with his razor sharp beak. His only solace is a dream of wide, blue skies that is slowly drifting away.
People are like that sometimes. If you trap them in a cage, no matter how good your intentions are, that spark dies, that life you value becomes obsolete. Conquered.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Professor Sinistra was the one who had first shown him how beautiful the stars could be. Astronomy had always been his favorite class, second only to Quidditch in his life. Come midnight, his class would tread wearily up to the tower, exhausted from the day's work and the thought of more work lying ahead. Yet he would run, jump, even skip the 99 steps up to the tower, waving cheerily to the few paintings and photographs that were awake.
He had never skipped a class, never missed his homework, and never ever failed a test. Oliver Wood wasn't that kind of guy, especially not when it came to his favorite subject. The one thing he loved more than Astronomy and Quidditch put together was Astronomy and Quidditch put together. He loved nothing more in the world then to jump on his broomstick at an hour in which everyone else slept peacefully and the sky was alight with stars. He felt that he would fly forever over the beautful landscape, soring above the Forbidden Forest and circling the world if he could. But, alas, night always faded into the light of day, crushing his reverie.
And it was in Astronomy class that he first met his second love, Marcus Flint. Oliver had been a pretty naiive first year. He had watched house Quidditch games with unrestrained rapture, watching the moves of the players while creating his own plays in his minds. He had watched the tricks of the Slytherin team with delight, even making his own plays to counteract their every move. When the real game was over, he assumed their tricks were everything but malicious. How could players so great be all that bad?
He vowed to become Quidditch captain one day. To meet those Slytherins and show them how he could beat their tricks so that they could become even better players. Charlie Weasley let him on the Gryffindor house team second year. Oliver was in a state of nervous anticipation. And then their first Astronomy class arrived and introduced him to his very first real Slytherin.
His first game as official keeper was too soon. He'd only been a reserve player four weeks. But Slytherin had taken out Quay Martins, their keeper, as well as a beater and two chasers. Gryffindor had only taken out one of their chasers. Marcus was to replace him. Oliver had been trying to warm up to the second year Slytherin boy for weeks. After all, Professor Sinistra had made them partners. Percy Weasley had really been disappointed, but Oliver thought it was great. Marcus was on the Slytherin Quidditch team. He could show him his plays, his moves, etc. and they'd become great friends.
That had been his line of thought. But in his first game, the Slytherin captain fell off his broom. Marcus took charge of the team like a general leading an army. He had a beater take Oliver out with a bludger five minutes later. It was Marcus who taught him the tricks on the field were malicious. It was Marcus who taught him the world wasn't a happy place. It was Marcus who showed him his only escape could ever be flying through the stars. It was Marcus who showed him that love was war.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
In his third year, despite the fact that his opinion of Marcus had moved from 'cool, a new friend' to 'that sorry obnoxious prat, I'll kill him', Oliver found himself looking at the troll-like boy more often. Astronomy was the only class they shared, the class that kept them connected away from the field.
"And that constellation is thought by many to be a sign of great fortune. If you'll look in your books you'll see that the constellation Orion combined with a cluster of stars to his right creates the Hippogriff constellation. The reason you can't see the Hippogriff in the sky now is because it only appears in mid-summer…" Professor Sinistra's voice droned on and on. Oliver couldn't believe that he was zoning out in Astronomy, but the sound of her monotone voice was lulling him to a place where all he saw were stars and three golden hoops, the highest upon which Marcus Flint was seated.
What was it about him?
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++