A/n: I just found out Mr. Sean Biggerstaff / Oliver Wood will be appearing in Deathly Hallows, Part 2. Count me as overjoyed! :D Plus, the title of this chapter is a mini shout-out to one of my fav shows ever, Chuck. Watch it on Mondays and have your world rocked with awesomeness!
Chapter 26 - Oliver Vs. The Ravenclaws
As the weeks rolled by, Oliver's primary concern was Quidditch. Whether it be practice, training, learning or perfecting new moves, matches and so, his focus was quite centered on the sport, much to the dismay of Denise who seemed to grow increasingly less patient with the amount of time he was devoting to the sport. She complained that as his new girlfriend he should be spending more time with her than a Quaffle, but Oliver would brush her off with a smile. This was his life and she would get used to it.
Though he still remained hurt by Audrey's betrayal, he made no effort to reconcile and neither did she. During Potions she sometimes would try to catch his eye or would shoot him a mixed look of pleading and guilt but he forcibly ignored her. He didn't need her trying to manipulate his feelings anymore. She had Flint and he had Denise and that was that.
He was very good at pretending Audrey had meant as little to him as he appeared to mean to her. He did it so well most days that his friends began to forget entirely about his interest in Audrey, and he himself felt convinced he'd never actually been as into her as he'd felt at the time. Every once in a while, however, his eyes would stray at meal times or he would catch a glimpse of her in the hallways and with his stomach jumping in that familiar way, knew he hadn't gotten over her at all.
A few days before Gryffindor's match against Ravenclaw, Oliver was overjoyed upon entering the Common Room to find Harry Potter had finally received his Firebolt back from McGonagall.
"Just got it," Harry grinned and stroked the shining broom.
"She didn't wreck it," Oliver breathed. He knew Professor McGonagall wouldn't intentionally damage the broom during her examination of it, but he couldn't help be worried that such a work of art would suffer under the various magical tests it probably had been put through. "Oh, it's just brilliant, Harry."
"Isn't it just?" Ron, off to the side in a chair, sighed in awe as Harry turned the broom gently in his hands.
Oliver's eyes roamed endlessly over the flawless broom. What he wouldn't give to own such a magnificent broom. His features broke into a wide grin. "Ravenclaw will be no match for us now with you on that, my friend."
Harry grinned back.
They spent the next hour or two talking about Quidditch and the merits of the various brooms over the years. The twins joined them at one point, then gravitated off to play a few card games, which Oliver later joined. They went to bed late and Oliver had lovely dreams about Harry's wonderful broom.
At practice the following evening, Madame Hooch was supervising as usual but took several moments to admire the broom as well. Practice was excellent, thanks mostly in part to the way Harry's broom was incredibly fast and he was able to repeatedly catch the Snitch with ease. Everyone played hard and Oliver ended the practice feeling especially pleased with his team.
Back in the castle, he ran into Roger Davies who was on his way to his own team practice, and they traded several good natured barbs about each other and their teams before heading their separate ways. Oliver was in such a good mood in fact, that when he was passing the Library and Audrey came out, nearly knocking right into him, it didn't dampen his spirits save for a sudden pang of emotion which he quickly ignored. He politely excused himself as he swiftly side-stepped her and carried on his way.
She didn't call after him. He had half expected her to – almost wanted her to and had to fight the urge to turn around and say something. But what could he say? There was nothing to be said. Besides, he had a match tomorrow and that meant he didn't need anything else on his mind. It was time to focus.
The following morning, Oliver ate very little as a result of his usual pre-match nerves filling up his stomach. When Harry arrived in the Great Hall with his broom in tow, heads turned and Oliver noted with glee the look of shock on Flint's face at the sight. The noise level in the Hall rose considerably and people stood and peered trying to get a look at Gryffindor's Seeker and the Firebolt in his hands.
Oliver sat back and grinned like he'd won a hundred Galleons.
All through breakfast, various students approached the table for a closer look at the broom which they had laid in the middle, name facing up.
"That is brilliant, Harry," said Cedric enthusiastically when he came to see the broom. "A really excellent replacement for your Nimbus. You should no trouble winning today – don't tell Roger I said that." He chuckled.
"Said what?" Roger came up beside Cedric.
"That your shoddy team has no chance against us with this secret weapon of ours," Oliver joked with a wink.
Roger slapped his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. To Cedric, in a mock accusatory tone, he said, "How could you! After all we've been through."
The three Captains laughed.
As Roger inspected the broom over Harry's shoulder, he let out a low whistle of approval. "Bloody nice, I have to admit. What a dream to have that for your Seeker, right Wood?"
"You have no idea." Oliver answered.
Following breakfast, it was time for the match. Unlike the terrible match against Hufflepuff, the weather was very favourable: sunny and cloudless, though cool and breezy. This only added to the good feeling Oliver had as he prepared to step out onto the pitch with his team.
"You know what you've got to do," he addressed them. "If we lose this match, we're uh… we're out of the running. So…" he swallowed, nerves swirling in his stomach. "Look, let's just play the kind of game we played yesterday in practice and we'll be fine."
As they entered the pitch, the applause was deafening for both teams. They made their way to Madame Hooch, as did the blue-clad Ravenclaw players.
"Shake hands," Madame Hooch instructed once the Captains were beside her.
"Hope your Seeker is on top of things, mate," Oliver winked.
"Me too!" Roger joked.
They stepped away from each other and took their positions. A moment later, Madame Hooch's whistle sounded signalling the start of the match.
Oliver flew immediately to his place in front of the goal posts. He noted with amusement Lee's commentary as he prattled on about how amazing the Firebolt was, and then with even more amusement when Professor McGonagall repeatedly cut in to get him back on track with actual commentating.
He watched as Katie sped down the opposite end of the pitch, Quaffle in hand. She performed a complicated manoeuvre to avoid a couple of Ravenclaw Chasers attempting a steal and then flew high for a shot on goal.
"That's my girl," Oliver murmured. "Shoot it, come on…"
She gave the Quaffle a skilled toss down and to the right, sending the ball sailing through the goal hoop. Oliver pumped his fist in the air triumphantly.
He flicked his eyes briefly to his Seeker and his breath caught when he saw Harry abruptly dive. Had he really spotted it already? Cho Chang, Ravenclaw's Seeker, was too far away to intercept him, but one of the Bludgers was smashed Harry's way by a Ravenclaw Beater. Though Harry dodged it smoothly, it had done its job: Harry had lost sight of the Snitch.
Oliver slapped his broom in disappointment. Good move, Rog. He thought.
The game progressed and the Quaffle made its way from hand to hand, back and forth across the pitch, neither team seeming to be able to maintain possession for long. His team scored a few more times while some Ravenclaw Chasers managed to slip three goals past Oliver. After the third, Oliver's eyes sought Harry, his face burning with frustration at having let in a third goal.
At that moment, his Seeker was racing unwaveringly towards the Gryffindor goalposts, flying low and his eyes fixed ahead. Chang swooped in to intercept him and Harry veered off course in order to avoid smashing head long into her. Oliver wished he'd have just ploughed on and knocked her off but simultaneously silently congratulated her. She knew she had the weaker broom, so she was playing smarter rather than faster.
A Ravenclaw Chaser was coming barrelling down the pitch straight for the Gryffindor goal posts and Oliver readied himself to make a save, reading any flicker of intention that the Chaser might give off. Then suddenly the Chaser was slowing, looking down, distracted and so were other players. Oliver looked too and saw three dark and hooded figures pointing and waving up at the players above.
He barely had the time to think they were Dementors like the Hufflepuff game, register fear (and confusion – where was the usual intense internal cold?) before a bright light was coming from his right. A massive white stag bore down on the figures; he recognized it as a Patronous charm, though he'd only begun learning about them this year as it was quite advanced magic. Then Madame Hooch's whistle blew and Oliver was turning to see Harry with his wand in one hand and his Snitch in the other. At that moment, he didn't have the presence of mind to be in awe that third year Harry Potter was casting a seventh year spell, only that the glint of the Golden Snitch was in his hand and that Gryffindor had therefore won the match.
Down below, the hooded figures weren't Dementors after all. He recognized the blonde head of Flint's Seeker, Draco Malfoy, and better yet, Flint himself, as they struggled to extricate themselves from their disguises. Seeing Professor McGonagall striding across the pitch in a towering rage to the startled boys below only made the match win feel even sweeter.
Once on the ground, Oliver was able to see Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall haul Flint and his cronies away before scores of students began closing in on the pitch to talk to and congratulate the various players. Oliver and Roger managed to find each other and congratulate one another on a good game. Oliver promised to buy Roger some soap for the smell and the Ravenclaw Captain laughed, slapping his friend's back.
"Congratulations on the win, Oliver," Denise found him in the crowd and shouted over the noise.
"Isn't it a conflict of interest for you to be in Ravenclaw but cheering for your Gryffindor boyfriend?"
"I was Switzerland," she laughed. "I cheered for both sides equally so I cancelled out my vote for who I wanted to see win."
Oliver chuckled and pulled her into a tight hug, his body buzzing with the excitement and adrenaline of the win. Denise pushed him away quicker than he'd have liked and wrinkled her nose.
"You are a wet, sweaty mess!" she exclaimed.
"That's what happens when I play Quidditch," he replied with another laugh.
She grimaced. "I wish you wouldn't."
He quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Oy!" George came jostling through the crowd and punched Oliver's shoulder. "Oh Captain my Captain, there is a big victory party awaiting us, let's go!"
"On my way!" He called to his friend then turned to Denise. "I'll see you soon." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried after the twins, excitedly recounting every moment of the match.
A/n: Reviews are wonderful things, their tops are made outta rubber, their bottoms are made outta springs! They're bouncy, bouncy, trouncy, bouncy, fun fun fun fun fun! The most wonderful things about reviews is they're not the only one. They're nooooooot the only one! (But Tiggers ARE the only one. Just sayin'.)