7 – Peace of Mind

It wasn't until some time had passed that it began to dawn on me what Wood wanted of me. At breakfast, a small note fluttered onto my plate clumsily. Dana and Leila looked at me questioningly, but I could only shake my head because I had no idea who this note was from.

Rigby,

Mind giving Potter some advice for his next game. I think your words really encourage him.

Thanks,

Wood

I passed the note to Leila, who was looking at me quite curiously, and caught Wood's eye further down the table. He looked at me questioningly with a small smile tugging at his lips. I nodded and gave him a thumbs up and a small smile. Dana also read the note and sighed.

"There's nothing but quidditch on that guy's mind. Is that why he's been getting on good terms with you? That's kind of strange."

Leila giggled. "I don't think that that's his only motivation. He really needed help on his essays because he always puts them off until the very last second."

Dana and I scoffed. I spoke up. "Well, I don't mind. Stranger things happen in the world of witchcraft and wizardry."

We all nodded in agreement.


A week passed, until I finally found some time to go to the Gryffindor quidditch practice. I walked down to the pitch and wrapped my gold and red Gryffindor scarf around my neck a bit tighter to keep in the warmth against the October air.

I waved at the team and sat on the bleachers. I watched Harry as he scanned the area for the practice snitch. He circled the pitch slowly several times until he swerved his broom around suddenly and angled it towards the ground to chase a speck of gold. The snitch zigzagged out of his reach and he nearly fell off his broom when he had to abruptly come to a halt before he flew straight into the bleachers. Several minutes of this cat and mouse game continued, but in the end he caught the snitch and Wood gave him new instructions. He came flying towards me and sat down next to me.

"Hey, Harry, nice catch." I greeted him.

"Hey, Rigby." He smiled shyly.

"You can call me Katrina." I offered, to which he nodded gladly.

"George and Fred keep telling me of all the great plays you can pull off. I think they would prefer you coming back very much." He said with a slight blush.

I frowned. "The twins are such a tease. Don't worry about them."

"But I haven't mastered any real quidditch plays. I don't think I can properly replace you." He cried.

"Oh, Harry." I patted his back. "You might not be able to pull off a Sloth Grip Roll yet, but that doesn't mean that you're a bad seeker. If you were in fact a bad seeker, you wouldn't have caught the snitch in your first game."

"So it's not about maneuvers?" He asked.

"No, they're helpful at times but they don't decide a game. It's your concentration and determination that makes you a brilliant player. Like with that Slytherin guy, he wasn't willing to take a risk to catch the snitch so they lost."

"Makes sense." He mused. "What else can you tell me?" He asked eagerly, his eyes alight with interest. He was a clever boy.

"Well, let me think." I said. Boy, he was so enthusiastic it was hard not to smile. "Too much concentration's a no-go. My first game I was so focused on finding the snitch that I was knocked out cold by a bludger." He looked up at me with shocked green eyes.

"Okay, so I still have to watch out for the bludgers. But don't the beaters take care of them."

"Yeah, that's right. But they can't be everywhere at once, right?"

He nodded. His list of questions still hadn't come to an end when Wood called it quits. I told Harry to run along and that he could ask me questions whenever he liked. He thanked me and ran off. I smiled at his retreating figure. He really was a nice kid. Before I knew it, Wood took a sit next to me.

"Harry seems to have enjoyed your conversation."

"Yes, he was very enthusiastic. A very inquisitive boy."

"Listen, Rigby." Oliver fuddled with the sleeve of his quidditch kit. "I just wanted to apologize for being such a prick the last time we spoke in our fourth year."

I blinked in astonishment, but then a grin spread over my face. "Why?"

He was taken aback by my rash repercussion. "Because I think that you really do love quidditch."

"So asking me to talk to Harry was some kind of test? Wood, you are just as quidditch obsessed as everyone thinks you are." I said, incredulous but the smile was still on my face.

He blushed. "Well, probably. I'm still sorry for telling you to sod off. It's just that I promised Charlie that I would do my best to win the house cup and shortly after that you tell me you quit. That was an option I hadn't taken into account and it just caught me off-guard."

"Okay." I said slowly. This was unexpected. I frowned at his earnest expression.

Wood extended his hand and said. "Oliver."

I shook his offered hand, shortly and said. "Katrina."

"Not Kat or Rina or Rin? So I have heard." He grinned.

"Yeah, I guess. Choose one of the following or something like that." I laughed.

He stood up and offered his hand to help me stand. I mumbled a quick thanks. We walked towards the changing rooms and I couldn't help but wonder how this had come about. Walking about with Oliver Wood, even though I wasn't a member of the quidditch team anymore, though I somehow still had a part in it.

"Hey, Katrina." Wood said, scratching his head and standing in the doorway to the captain's rooms. "Want to look at the plays I've made for this year's season?"

I smiled. "Sure, Oliver." He opened the door for me and let me step in. I stepped over to a chalkboard and studied the formations on it. On the side were a list of maneuvers, one of which caught my eye.

"The Wronski Feint?" I asked, astonished.

Oliver nodded. "What do you think?" He asked, crossing his arms and turning his stare onto the chalkboard.

"Well, it's risky. I'm not sure if Harry could pull it off just now, though what he did in the match against Slytherin was pretty darn close to the real thing. It's just…" I looked up at him with a hesitant smirk and continued. "…when you're the one to patch up the other poor seeker that's supposed to be crashed, it's not that enjoyable."

He frowned. "I guess I can understand that. But it's a great move, makes the game a lot less stressful."

"I can't argue against that. Have you ever considered integrating the Double Eight Loop into your keeping?"

A small crease formed between his brows as he thought about my question. "I have considered it, but I kind of think it's a sloppy move." He said as he pulled up two chairs. We sat down and I raised a questioning eyebrow at him, urging him to continue. "Well, you just fly around all three hoops and hope that the quaffle doesn't go in. Where's the fun in that?"

I chuckled. "Well, it doesn't have to be fun when it works."

"Point taken."

"Well, it's better than pulling off a starfish and stick. Hanging from your broom by a hand and a foot is just nonsense to make you look good."

He held up a finger. "It's not nonsense when you actually catch the quaffle, then you have enough time to get back on your broom."

I scoffed. "That's arrogant."

"It will only sound arrogant until I master the stunt." He said with a lopsided grin. He seemed to also like a good challenge.

"I won't hold you to it. People get hurt during quidditch because of those kind of stunts." I said with a worried frown. I was sounding more and more like Madame Pomfrey, but then again I could understand her point of view much better as well.


After another hour or so of talking about quidditch tactics, Oliver and I walked back to the common room still continuing our conversation. We separated at the bottom of the stairs leading to the boys' and girls' dormitories and wished each other a good night's sleep. As I climbed the stairs, I couldn't help but be shocked at this turn of events. It seemed that Oliver Wood and I could actually be becoming something like friends. Who would have thought that such a thing was possible?