The last one is because of my latest Jigsaw Piece, if anyone was wondering. I haven't even decided who to write next, so it may be a few days before I update again. Who knew it'd get harder to write these things?

Anyone who reads The Sorting, I'll get that updated at some point, soon, but I'm blocked there right now, so it might be a couple of days.

55. Oliver

1. The first time he sat on his first toy broomstick, and felt his feet leave the ground, he cried. He was terrified. It took a whole three weeks before his dad could persuade him to get back on it, and another four days after that before he'd lift his tiptoes up.

And then, somewhere between the ages of three and five, he started to like the feeling of hovering in the air.

2. He was eight when he first sat on a real broomstick. He rose only three feet into the air, moved only four or five feet forward, but he was hooked.

He was one of the few first years to try sneaking a broomstick into Hogwarts. (He failed.) He was one of the first years to try out for the Quidditch team. (The captain said he was good, for an eleven year old, but not good enough.)

3. The fact that they hadn't managed to win the cup was something that tormented him. He thought they had a strong team, but still they didn't manage it. And then they got Harry, and he thought...

By his last year he was panicking. His last chance to win. If he left Hogwarts without ever captaining the team to victory, he might just die of disappointment. He had to win, had to.

So he ignored his teams complaints, ignored it when his own muscles screamed in protest. They were going to win, he'd make sure of it.

So losing that first match...he felt all hope was lost. Felt that his life was over. And for a couple of days, he hated Harry a little bit. Because they should have won.

4. Words can't describe how amazing it was to finally win. To finally hold that cup, to hear the cheers of his team – his team – the roaring of the crowd. They'd done it, they'd won, and he felt like he'd never stop smiling.

It was months before he actually did stop smiling almost consistently. But even now, all these years later, he still smiles occasionally when he remembers that victory. It is one of the best moments of his life, right up there with his wedding day and his kids' births. Not, of course, that he'd ever admit that to Katie; something tells him she wouldn't be all that pleased.

5. Leaving Hogwarts was terrifying. While his grades weren't bad, he'd put too much time into Quidditch for them to be better than average. So while all he wanted to do – all he thought he could do – was play Quidditch, he was faced with the very real possibility that he'd have to take a "real" job, a low-paying, soul-destroying, kind of job.

It took weeks and weeks and weeks to finally get a place – a reserve was the best he could have hoped for, being just out of school – weeks and weeks of nerves and despair. It was so thrilling to be able to see people he knew at the World Cup and tell them he was on a real team. He didn't, of course, mention that he'd been on that team for a total of three days.

6. Even though he'd known Harry, liked Harry, when the Daily Prophet began making out that he was slowly losing it, he believed it a little. Because everyone knew what had happened to Harry as a baby, and something – something weird, something bad – must have occurred as a result of it, right? So if Harry's grip on reality was slipping a little, well, it wasn't exactly unexpected, was it?

7. Still, when he read Harry's Quibbler interview, he believed it. Because this was Harry, the kid he'd known for years, his star seeker. And the Harry he knew wasn't stupid, wasn't an attention-seeking liar.

Insanity was one thing, but lies? Nah, not Harry.

8. And then, suddenly, the world had deteriorated. Dumbledore was dead, and Voldemort was in power. Death Eaters were everywhere, muggle-borns were fleeing, Harry was on the run with a bounty on his head, and no one was safe, no one could be trusted. For him, it had happened so quickly, so out of the blue, and he didn't know how to handle it. Death. Destruction. Despair. He wasn't used to them.

And then it was all happening, at Hogwarts of all places. He thought, at first, like the others, that they'd be just fighting the Death Eaters, taking the school back.

And then Voldemort was on his way? They were fighting You-Know-Who himself? He wasn't prepared for this, he couldn't...

Only, he didn't have a choice, did he?

9. He and Katie, they'd known each other for years. Since her first year. So why, suddenly, was she stood at this memorial, looking so grown up, so...pretty? Why was she no longer that kid with all the Quidditch talent, or the teenager who'd fought beside him, her voice shaking and her hand trembling as she cast jinxes and curses?

And why on earth was he slightly nervous as he walked over to her? Why was he a little edgy when started talking to her? And why was it she who had to suggest they meet up for a drink, because he couldn't work up the nerve?

10. His granddad's name was Humphrey. It was some kind of emotional blackmail on his father's part that caused Oliver to name his son it, too. Katie was adamant they wouldn't, but they'd already agreed he could name this one, because she'd named their daughter. And so, with a large amount of pressure from his father, he named his first-born son "Humphrey".

Unsurprisingly, Humphrey goes by the name Wood. Even he and Katie call him it. Also unsurprisingly, his son is planning to change his first name the second he's of age.

Still, Oliver reasons, it could be worse. There are names that are worse than his. (Somehow, though, he never can think of any when he tries to tell his son this.)